#the chapters where he just phones it in really suffer

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 13

Warnings: angst! mentions of sexual assault and talks of rape, alcohol and drug consumption, bad parenting, mentions of domestic abuse.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler , slight Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Steve promised to always be there for you when you were little kids and you find out that he had kept this promise.

Word count: 7k

A/N: The beginning of this chapter is heavily inspired by Seven by Taylor Swift, if you haven’t listened to it, go listen to it now! @mysticmunson thank you for the help as always, ilysm 🤍

series masterlist

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You have never been one to ask for help, whenever you struggled with something, you simply kept it to yourself and dealt with it alone, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. 

Even when you were scared, you didn’t tell anyone, you didn’t ask for comfort, you didn’t call for help, you simply learned how to deal with the fear alone. 

When your parents started fighting and you heard your dad yell at your mom, you hid in the closet, you put your hands over your ears and cried silently, hoping that they would just stop yelling at each other, hoping that he would stop being so mad all the time. 

You suffered, hearing your parents fight. You were scared – scared that something worse would happen, scared that their fights would turn into something more serious, scared that one of them would leave. 

You didn’t want them to fight, you didn’t want them to hate each other, you didn’t want one of them to leave. 

You just wanted your mom and your dad, you wanted your family. 

One night, when you were twelve years old, Steve had climbed up to your window, he sneaked into your room, excitedly. It was the night before your birthday and he got you an early present. The smile faded from his lips when for the first time, he had heard your dad’s angry voice and your mom’s nervous one, when he heard the quiet sniffles coming from your closet where he had found you rocking back and forth with your hands over your ears and tears rolling down your cheeks. His heart broke at the sight of you. 

He startled you when he reached his hand out to touch your shoulder, you flinched and looked up at him, your face scrunched up in confusion and your eyes widened, you stared at him with a quivering lip and glassy eyes that flashed with relief when you realized that it was really him in front of you. 

“Steve?” You whispered, shakily as you removed your hands from your ears, slowly. 

He stepped inside the closet and closed the door again, he sat down beside you and wrapped an arm around you. 

“I’m here, Dolly,” he had whispered, using the nickname that he jokingly gave you when you were both five years old and you went through an obsession with dolls. 

Steve didn’t know that your parents were fighting, no one knew. 

You cried into his shoulder and he held your hand. Even he flinched at the sound of your dad’s angry shouts. He felt so awful that night, he was so worried about you. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked when you started to calm down. 

You only shrugged in response. 

“You should come live with me, you won’t have to be scared. I’ll protect you.”

When you smiled at his words and looked at him through your glassy eyes, Steve had promised himself that he would always be there for you, that he would protect you and keep you safe. 

He thinks about that night a lot. 

He thinks about how much he failed you. 

He thinks about how he broke his own promise. 

He thinks about how he abandoned you. 

And he hates himself for it, especially when he hears your broken voice and your quiet sniffles on the phone. 

“Steve?”

He straightens his back, furrowing his brows. Chills run through him and an instant rush of worry floods through him when he hears you crying. 

“Y/n?” 

“I-I’m sorry, Steve. I d-didn’t know who else to call.” 

You could have called Eddie or Heather or Chrissy or even Robin, Steve thinks to himself. You are outside, he can hear the passing cars. He wonders if your voice is shaky because of the cold or because you are crying. 

“Where are you, y/n?” Steve asks as he already gets up to put on the sweater he had thrown over his chair earlier.

You sniffle again, it reminds him of the night he found you crying in the closet. 

“G-Gas station,” you mumble, “c-can you please pick me up?”

There is only one gas station in Hawkins, he knows exactly where you are.

“Yeah, of course,” he speaks into the receiver. Steve can feel his heart pounding in his chest, a glance into the mirror shows him that his face is etched with worry. 

“H-Hurry up.”

The sound of your scared and small voice almost sends him into a state of panic. 

What happened? 

How scared do you have to be to call him out of all people? 

“I’ll be right there, y/n. Just stay where you are, okay?” 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

Begrudgingly, he hangs up the phone, he then hurries out of his room, rushing down the stairs. He turns on the lights in the hallway, he quickly puts his Nike's on, he grabs his jacket and his bundle of keys before he leaves the house. 

Steve doesn’t know what to expect but the awful feeling in his chest tells him that you are in a bad state. 

You have never asked for help, not even when you were still together and he already knew about your fears and struggles, he had done his best to be there for you but you have never asked him to be there for you, you didn’t want to be a burden, you never could be. 

Steve keeps running his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit he can’t seem to get rid of. 

He goes over the speed limit, not caring about the risk of getting another ticket. The streets are empty anyways, no cops seem to be in sight. He feels anxious and on edge but he feels relieved, when he pulls up to the empty gas station and he sees you.

You are sitting on the concrete floor, your elbows are on your knees, your hands are over your ears, just like back then. He parks the car and turns it off, he opens the door and gets out, not wasting a single second to get to you. 

You keep your head down, rocking back and forth, you haven’t noticed him yet. Your body is shaking, you aren’t even wearing a jacket. Steve’s heart is still pounding, despite the relief he had felt in his body when he saw you, he still feels very anxious. He takes his jacket off and walks towards you, he crouches down in front of you.

“Y/n,” he whispers as he carefully lifts his hand, placing it on your shoulder as he whispers your name again. 

Your first instinct is to flinch at his touch and push his hand off as you scoot back quickly. 

Steve raises his hands in surrender, “hey! It’s me, it’s just me, y/n!” He rushes, staring at you with a startled look on his face, “it’s just Steve,” he whispers. 

Your eyes are wide and you instantly calm at the sound of his voice. For the first time that night, he sees your face. Your eyes are red rimmed and glassy but you aren’t crying. You got glitter on your cheeks and your forehead, your hair is a mess like you’ve spent tugging at it, all night. 

The look in your eyes can only be described as terrified. 

“Steve?” You whisper in relief. 

He nods with a confused and scared look on his face. 

What happened to you? 

The street light is shining down on you but he has yet to see the rest of your body. 

“You came,” you whisper with a quivering lip, staring at him as though you can’t believe that he is in front of you. 

His gaze softens and his heart hurts to see you like this. 

What happened?

You were doing so good, you looked so happy. 

“Of course I came,” he whispers and slowly inches closer to you, you don’t flinch this time, only staring at him with your wide eyes as though you can’t believe that he is actually here. He wraps his jacket around you, leaning closer to you. He smells your sweet perfume, your shampoo, your vanilla body wash but above the pleasant scents is a heavy smell of  whiskey, cigarettes, weed and the strong scent of cologne, it’s not the same one he smelled on you before, it’s not Eddie’s cologne. 

He swallows nervously. 

You weren’t with Eddie tonight, you wouldn’t be here if you were. Steve might not know him well but if there is something he learned about Eddie is the protectiveness he feels over you. You wouldn’t be alone at a gas station at 1 am if you had been with him tonight. 

He just knows it. 

When Steve lifts your hair up to pull them out from beneath the jacket, a cold shiver runs down his spine when he sees the bruises on the side of your neck, bite marks and hickeys litter your skin. He pulls away slowly, his breathing quickens, he blinks, staring at your face for a long second. You seem to be on the verge of tears but something inside of you keeps you from crying, you look frozen, your body is tense.

Steve pulls back, he looks down at you and his heart drops completely. His lips part, his eyes widen and all color drains from his face when he sees the bruises around your wrists and on your thighs. 

No, no, no, no…. God no… Please no.. 

He keeps staring at the bruises, frozen in place, heart racing and breaking each passing second. 

He whispers your name in shock. 

You raise your head to look at him and when you notice the look on his face, you start shaking your head and pulling at your dress to hide your thighs as though it will get rid of the marks he had left on you, you didn’t even realize how hard he grabbed you, how rough his hands were when he forced your legs apart or when he pinned your wrists against his car, you were too consumed with fear to feel anything. You are surprised that you even managed to fight back, that you got out of the situation before something much worse could happen. 

“D-Do you need a doctor? Should I drive you to the hospital?” Steve asks, shakily. 

You shake your head as the panic begins to settle back in, your throat feels tight and tears well up in your eyes, “n-no, I wanna go home,” you whisper as you look at him with pleading eyes, “please just drive me home, Steve. Please.” 

Steve doesn’t know how to handle the situation, he doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to help you. 

Who did this to you? 

His stomach churns, he feels sick, so sick. 

You flinch a little when he touches your shoulder again and Steve pulls his hand away immediately. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

Your eyes shift away from him, you look down and pull the jacket tighter around your body. 

Steve eyes you, watching the way you push yourself up to stand, he follows suit, standing up as well. 

Your knees buckle and you almost fall back to the ground but Steve catches you, carefully holding you by your waist. This time, you don’t flinch away from his touch, he keeps holding you, pulling you closer to him. 

“It’s okay, I got you,” he whispers softly, “I got you.”

His heart won’t stop hammering in his chest and he doesn’t know which emotion inside of him is stronger right now. 

The worry he feels for you or the anger he feels for the person who did this to you? 

A gust of wind makes you shiver, it blows through your hair and you shudder at the feeling of the coldness touching your exposed skin. The smell of gasoline is beginning to make you feel nauseous. 

“I wanna go home.”

Steve nods with a broken look in his eyes. 

He leads you back to his car and opens the door for you. You let go of him when you sit down in the passenger seat. Despite the whirlwind that is going on in your mind and the amount of alcohol and drugs you have in you, you still remember to put on the seatbelt. Your dress rides up in the process, you don’t notice it.

Steve sucks in a sharp breath and he clenches his jaw when he sees more bruises on your thighs, the ones that were hidden beneath your dress. He looks away and clenches his hand into a fist after he closes the door. 

He tries to take deep breaths to calm himself down as he walks around the car, he opens the door and gets inside. 

You are quiet, so very quiet, he can’t even hear you breathing. He glances at you, you pulled the sleeves of his jacket over your hands and you are looking at the window, facing away from him. 

“Are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor?” 

You shake your head, “I’m fine,” you mumble, without looking at him. 

He nods to himself, sighing deeply as he starts the car. 

When the music starts playing and David Bowie’s voice sounds through the car, Steve winces a little. On the drive here, he was so on edge and distracted by his thoughts, he wasn’t really paying attention to the music that was playing. He turns the volume down and he narrows his eyes, glancing at you. You don’t seem to pay attention to anything right now. 

You keep blinking rapidly, staring out the window. 

On the drive to your house, he keeps checking on you to make sure that you are okay. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, he is feeling too much right now. 

You are silent, so silent. 

It’s been a long time since you have sat in the passenger seat next to him. The last time you did, you were still together. He was yours, you were his, you were both okay and you were safe and happy. 

Now you sit here with tears in your eyes and bruises on your skin – you are not okay, you were not safe tonight and he doesn’t know if you will be happy again after whatever happened. 

Lost in his thoughts, Steve stares at the road ahead, swallowing the bitterness on his tongue and fighting the anger and the guilt he feels for himself. This shouldn’t have happened, this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been so stupid all these months ago. 

He was supposed to protect you, he was supposed to keep you safe. 

Steve doesn’t notice the way you look away from the window, the way you look down at yourself, the way your breathing quickens and your eyes widen. 

You stare at the bruises on your thighs, the ones beneath your dress. How rough had he been when he tried to force your legs apart? How strong did he grip your thighs when he tried to touch you where you didn’t want to be touched? 

You push the sleeves of Steve’s jacket up, frowning at the bruises on your wrists. Your heart begins to hammer in your chest, hot tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and you feel the panic rushing through you. The realization of what would have happened if you didn’t find the strength to fight back begins to sink in and the sudden nausea makes you want to throw up but the tightness in your throat makes you feel like you cannot breathe, yet, somehow, the sob that’s been rising up, falls from your lips and you break down in the passenger seat of your ex boyfriend’s car. 

Too many emotions run through you; shock, fear, sadness, pain, disgust and anger. 

Not only did he try to strip you of your powers, he also tore down walls that you have been slowly building up since Steve left you. You hear his voice, all the things he said to you repeat themselves over and over again, you feel his touch, his rough hands on your body. 

A man who has no meaning in your life took away so much from you tonight. 

Steve pulls the car off the road, he hits the brakes and unbuckles his seatbelt. He doesn’t know what to do when he sees you crying that way. The pain in your eyes, the tears streaming down your face and your broken sobs make him want to cry too. 

He whispers your name and he leans closer to you but he doesn’t touch you, knowing that this will only make things worse. 

“I-I didn’t want it,” you whimper as you stare at the bruises on your wrists, “I-I said no, I told him no, I told him t-that I didn’t want it, I said no, Steve.” You ramble as you turn to face him with big, glassy eyes. 

Steve’s eyes are filled with shock, a horrified expression takes over his face. 

“H-He said that I wanted it but I didn’t, I never wanted it, I didn’t– I just wanted someone to like me.” You cry as you pull at your dress and Steve finally notices your bruised knuckles, he hasn’t seen them before.

How often can a heart break in one night? 

Steve feels like his insides are being twisted, the gut wrenching sound of your cries make him feel so helpless and your words make him feel sick. His eyes are burning and his hands itch to hurt the man who hurt you. 

He says your name softly and he places his hand on top of yours, this time, you don’t flinch away from him and his touch. You turn to face him and he wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to wipe your tears and take your pain, but he can’t. 

He doesn’t know how to ask you this question, especially when you are looking at him like that. 

“Did… Did he –” Did he rape you? Is what he needs to know but he cannot utter these words, the thought of someone doing such a disgusting and vile thing to you makes him feel sick to his stomach.

Steve doesn’t have to finish the question, you know what he wants to know and you start shaking your head with wide eyes as your tears continue to roll down your cheeks. 

“I fought back a-and he let me go but he was so awful.”

“Who?” He finally asks.

“Ray.”

Steve is not surprised to hear his name, not after he watched you write your number on his hand at the bonfire, last week. He clenches his jaw and nods. 

Raymond Parker. 

Steve knows where he lives.

The haunted look in your eyes tells him that there is more. Things you don’t want to say out loud.

He watches the way your brows furrow, the way your eyes continue to well up with tears. You seem to think about something, something that hurts you, it’s so clear on your face. 

“Why does everyone hurt me?”

Steve’s face falls, his eyes flash with guilt. 

“Why does everyone leave me?” You whisper to yourself. 

Steve knows that you’d never say these things if you were sober and free from the hurt. 

Your dad left, Steve left, your friends are slipping through your fingers and now you are afraid that Eddie will leave too. You saw the anger in his eyes when he found you at Reefer Rick’s house, you didn’t listen to him, you broke a promise and now he is disappointed in you – will your best friend leave you just like they did? 

“And Eddie hates me now, h-he was so angry at me, I-I don’t, I didn’t want to disappoint him,” you mumble, causing him to frown. 

“I ran away from him.”

What could you have done to disappoint Eddie?

Suddenly, you turn around, reaching for the door handle. You want to leave, you need to get out of here but before you can even open the door, Steve locks the car, mumbling something under his breath. 

“You think I’ll let you leave right now?” Steve asks, confused. 

His action seems to wake the anger in you and you turn back around, glaring at him. You stare into his eyes for a long second before you open your mouth to speak.

“Oh so now you don’t want me to leave!?” 

He knows that your question is one out of anger but the sadness is rooted so deep inside of you. The pain in your eyes is so contagious, it makes him sad too. 

“Dolly,” he whispers, using the nickname that he gave you when you were children, that seems to worsen your pain. He sees your quivering lip, the tears that pool in your eyes and roll down your cheeks in an instant. 

Regret and guilt is something that he cannot deal with, to this day. It haunts him and this will haunt him even more. This shouldn’t have happened, none of this should’ve happened. He was supposed to keep you safe from all the horrors in this world but he failed you so strongly and he put you through horror himself. 

You slump back in the seat, sniffling quietly as you turn your face away from him. 

Steve stares at the back of your head for a long moment. 

This is so wrong. All of this is. 

You belong here, with him, but not like this, never like this. 

He takes a deep breath and he closes his eyes for a second before he turns back, gripping the steering wheel again as he restarts the car. 

The rest of the drive home is spent in silence, you continue to cry and it makes his heart ache. He focuses on you, rather than the anger that he feels for the man who hurt you – he will keep that for later.

When he pulls up to your house and he parks his car in your driveway, he notices that the lights are off and your mom’s car isn’t here. The thought of leaving you by yourself tonight, makes him feel uneasy. 

You both get out of the car and he rushes over to you to make sure that you won’t fall again but you hold your hand up, not wanting to be touched. He keeps his distance but watches you closely when you walk up the stairs. 

“Shit,” you mumble, bringing your hand up to your face, you pinch your nose, “I-I forgot my jacket and I don’t have my keys.”

“Oh,” Steve says as he looks at you, he then looks down at the bundle of keys in his hand. He swallows nervously, “I-I uh, I still got your keys.”

With furrowed brows and a confused look on your face, you look up at him. Steve eyes the puffiness in your eyes, the redness in them, the pouty lips that you never notice yourself doing. 

He scratches the back of his neck and his eyes shift away from you, “I forgot to take them off,” he mumbles, unable to look into your eyes. He turns away and walks towards the door to unlock it. 

You don’t say anything about it, you keep quiet and stare at his back before your eyes move down to the keys. 

Is the key to her house on his keychain as well? 

The sound of an approaching car causes the both of you to turn around, the bright headlights and the screeching sound of the tires against the ground makes you both wince. 

You straighten your back when you see him. 

He jumps out of his van. The door on the passenger side opens as well and you see Robin. You watch the way their eyes find you, the way they sigh in relief at the sight of you under your porch light. 

Eddie places his hands on his head and he exhales loudly, happy to see you here. Both he and Robin rush over to you. 

Eddie’s eyes are wide and filled with guilt and worry, his brown eyes take in the sight of you and he almost lets out a gasp when he finally notices what he hasn’t noticed before, the bruises on your thighs, the redness in your eyes, the state you are in. 

What happened?

You are wearing Steve’s jacket and he wonders how or why you are with him. 

Did you call him? Did he find you? Did you walk to his place? 

He whispers your name in shock, frozen in place, he can’t even move towards you. Your eyes lock for a moment and he can tell that you are about to burst into tears, again. He wants to pull you into his arms but he is scared to touch you. 

“Y/n?” Robin whispers as her eyes flash with a knowing look. She doesn’t have to ask to know what happened, if it wasn’t for the state you are in then she’d be able to tell by the haunted look in your eyes. 

You tear your eyes away from Eddie, startling all three of them when you suddenly throw yourself into Robin’s arms and start crying again. Without wasting a second, Robin wraps her arms around you and hugs you tightly, rubbing your back. 

Eddie and Steve watch you with broken looks in their eyes. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” Robin whispers as she lifts her head, glancing at Steve who stares at you, looking helpless. She then looks at Eddie, who looks just as helpless as Steve does but there is also guilt and regret in his eyes, she knows why, he kept beating himself up over appearing so angry to you when he found you at Rick’s house. 

When he called her, he sounded scared and panicked, he asked for you, hoping that you came over to her, you didn’t. He picked her up and they both drove around town, looking for you. Eddie kept chewing on his lip and bouncing his knee, tugging at his hair and mumbling curse words under his breath – Robin had never seen him so nervous and scared before.

Now he stands there like a kicked puppy, he stares at you, not knowing what to do. 

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” Robin says to you. 

You nod and pull away from her, looking down at the ground as you wipe your tears. Robin wraps her arm around your shoulder, glancing at Steve and Eddie as you both walk past them. 

Eddie and Steve share a look before they follow you both inside, watching you walk up the stairs. Robin turns her head, looking down at them, she shakes her head, ‘don’t’ she mouths. 

They listen to your sniffles and watch you until they can no longer see you. They hear your footsteps in the hallway upstairs and when the door to your room closes. Eddie slumps against the door, he presses his palm to his forehead, “shit,” he mumbles, “what the fuck happened, man?” 

Steve narrows his eyes, eyeing Eddie up and down. The worry and the panic on his face and in his eyes, isn’t very hard to miss. 

Looking down at the keys in his hands, Steve sighs before he throws them on the little table in the hallway. He turns on the light and sits down on the stairs.

“She called me from the payphone at the gas station.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, “what?” 

“She asked me to come pick her up,” he says, looking down, “and then uh, then she told me that you were angry at her and that she ran away from you, that's probably why she called me, anyway.” Steve knows that you wouldn't have called him if it wasn't for what happened with Eddie. He is the one you think of first, whenever you need someone, now.

Eddie shakes his head, his eyes flash with even more guilt. He feels ashamed, knowing that Steve knows that he was the reason why you ran. He keeps looking at the ground, continuing to beat himself up for the next several minutes before he hears the door to your room shutting again. He looks up, seeing Robin again. 

“I think you guys should leave,” she says as she walks down the stairs. 

“What?” Eddie asks, “I’m not leaving.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Steve says to the girl he never spoke to before. 

She sighs, rolling her eyes.

She doesn’t know Steve very well but she knows Eddie and she knows how stubborn he can be, he won’t leave. 

“Well, can you at least get her some painkillers and water?” Robin asks Steve with annoyance written all over her face, “you must know where it is, right?” 

She doesn’t like him – obviously. Steve nods, he turns away from her and walks down the hallway. He turns on the lights when he steps into the kitchen, the first thing he sees are the pink flowers on the counter, it’s your favorite ones. 

“C-Can I see her?” Eddie asks, “please?”

Robin’s eyes soften at the pleading look in his eyes. 

“She’s taking a shower right now, but Eddie,” she mumbles, pausing as she looks down with a horrified look on her face, “she has bruises on her thighs, wrists and neck.”

He saw the ones on your thighs, but not the ones on your wrists or your neck. 

“She said that nothing happened, that she got away before he could – you know..” She says, uncomfortably. She can't even finish the sentence but she doesn't have to. Eddie knows.

“Ray did this?” 

She nods and Eddie’s stomach drops.

He shouldn’t have been mad at you, he shouldn’t have scared you that way, he should’ve taken a closer look at you, at least he could’ve taken care of you, instead of scaring you away with his worry and his anger, making your night even worse.

He blinks when he feels hot tears in his eyes. He feels guilty, so guilty.

He encouraged you to go on that date.

“Eddie,” Robin whispers, stepping towards her friends, she knows exactly what he feels like, she feels the same. “It’s not your fault.”

“I-I told her to go on that date,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he looks down at the ground.

"So did I!" Robin says but Eddie ignores her words.

“And then, I got mad at her when I saw her at Rick’s but, I-I was just worried! I specifically told her never to go to his parties alone, Robin!” 

Eddie wanted to protect you but it wasn’t even that place or the people at Rick’s place that put you into danger.

“I know,” she sighs, “she said that Rick found her and the girls she was with were nice, nothing happened, Eddie.”

“Nothing happened,” he scoffs as the anger – an even worse kind of anger, takes over him when he thinks about the guy who did that to you, who would have done worse to you if you didn’t fight back. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Yeah, you and me both, buddy.”

The sound of Steve’s voice is irritating to Robin, every time she hears his voice, every time she looks at him, she gets reminded of how much she dislikes this guy but even through that, she has to admit that he cares about you – even if you don’t see it. 

She looks between Eddie and Steve, eyeing the looks on their faces as they seem to settle on a silent agreement. 

She quirks a brow, sighing in annoyance, she steps towards Steve and grabs the water bottle and the painkillers from his hands. 

“Okay cowboys, why don’t you let the cops handle it?” She asks as she turns around and begins to walk up the stairs, groaning in annoyance when they follow her. 

“Cops?” He scoffs, “they’re not gonna do shit, Robin.” 

Robin is surprised that he even knows her name. 

“Uncle Wayne is friends with Hopper, he won’t let him get away,” Eddie says.

“Yeah, Hopper won’t but Hopper can’t keep him in a cell in Hawkins for the rest of his life.” 

Eddie huffs. He knows he is right. 

Ray has wealthy parents, they will do anything to keep their son out of jail. 

“And what he did was bad enough but he won’t go to jail for that, you know how it is, guys,” Robin sighs, “men get away with worse, what makes you think that he will pay for this? A young college student, an athlete may I add? He has a bright future ahead of him, no judge will ruin that for him!” Robin mutters, angrily. 

“Yeah well, I can ruin his bright athlete future,” Eddie mumbles as he already thinks of the way he could hurt him. 

“Eddie,” Robin sighs, “she doesn’t want you getting into trouble–”

“No, he’s right,” Steve mumbles, “we can easily ruin his future.”

She looks between them, they are serious about this, she can tell that they are. 

“You aren’t doing anything, I don’t want you to.” 

Your voice startles the three of them and they all glance at you. They didn’t notice that you have opened your bedroom door or that you have been watching and listening to them talk. 

Eddie’s eyes widen again, when he finally sees the other bruises, he feels his heart clench in his chest. The bruises on your wrists will stay for a while. How roughly did he grab you? How much pain did he put you through? 

He feels the hot rage inside of him and the urge to hurt the man who did this to you is so very strong. 

But the urge to comfort you and pull you into his arms is so much stronger. 

Your hair is wet and your face looks clean again, the glitter and the mascara streaks are gone. You are wearing a big shirt, his shirt. 

“He didn’t r- assault me in that way. I-I'm not hurt, I was just upset about some shit he said to me, not what he did,” you mumble quietly, looking back down at the ground as you grip the doorknob tightly.

Never in a million years, would they believe your words. You are standing there with bruises on your body, lying about not hurting. This changes everything.

“A-And I’m okay, you guys don’t have to stay here and watch over me.”

All three of them know that you are lying, they can hear the shakiness in your voice and you are not exactly good at hiding the tears in your eyes.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie whispers. 

You lift your head slightly, looking into his eyes, “I’m okay, Eddie,” you whisper, trying to give him a smile. 

He feels helpless, just like Steve does, just like Robin does. 

“I’m not leaving,” he mumbles. 

“Yeah, me neither,” Steve says, “w-we can go downstairs if you’re more comfortable with that.” 

You look away from Eddie and meet his eyes, you eye the softness in them, the worry and you wonder, has it always been there since he left you? 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

But neither Steve or Eddie go downstairs when you walk back into your room. Robin follows and closes the door after giving them both a sad look. 

They settle on the ground, both leaning their backs against the wall on each side of your door and for the first ten minutes or so, it’s awkwardly silent between them. Only the sound of the ticking clock on the opposite wall sounds through the hallway. 

Eddie stares into blank space, twisting the rings on his fingers as he blinks rapidly, not noticing that Steve is watching him. 

“Stop beating yourself up, none of this is your fault.” He says, feeling just as guilty as Eddie does. 

“I should’ve protected her, I-I fucked up.”

“No, you didn’t,” Steve mumbles, “you didn’t fuck up. Her running away from you isn’t you fucking up, dude. She got scared that you were mad at her, she thought you were disappointed in her for whatever reason, that’s why she ran – she was too much in her head, on drugs and drunk.”

“I was mad and I wasn’t thinking straight, I just saw red when I saw her at Rick’s place, I shouldn’t have gotten so mad, I should’ve asked why she was there.” 

Steve had heard about Reefer Rick and the ‘wild’ parties he’s throwing. He heard about the drugs and other illegal shit that goes down at the boathouse. 

“You wanted to protect her, there’s a good reason why you didn’t want her there.” 

“Yeah but–”

“Stop it, Eddie.” Steve mumbles, rolling his eyes, “you aren’t the one who fucked up, you were there for her all this time and you were there to pull her out of the house before something else could happen.” 

He is right, Eddie knows he is but the guilt is still rooted deep inside of him. He should’ve told you to cancel the date, he shouldn’t have encouraged you to go. 

“I’m the one who fucked up,” Steve scoffs as he looks down at his hands, a look of hatred crosses his features, hatred for himself. 

Eddie frowns. 

“This isn’t your fault either, Steve.”

“Everything is my fault. This wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t break her heart, she would’ve never gone on that date.” 

Steve wasn’t even sure if it was a date, he figured it was. When he saw the flowers on your counter, he knew for certain. 

“This could have been prevented, I shouldn’t have encouraged her to go on that date,” Eddie admits in shame.

“It still isn’t your fault, Eddie.” 

“Well, it’s not yours either,” Eddie mumbles, “shit like that happens to girls all the time, even if you were still together, it could’ve happened.” 

Steve nods at his words, he is right, he knows he is but that still doesn’t take away the guilt. 

Both of them are trying to convince the other to stop taking the blame but it does little to make them feel any less guilty.

The silence takes over, once again and Steve is the first to break it, again. 

“I thought you were together.”

Eddie’s brows pull together, he looks confused when he turns to face Steve, who is already looking at him.

“Yeah, I uh, I thought you two were dating,” Steve adds as he looks away, nervously. “You seem pretty close, the way her and I were before we uh – before we started dating.” 

Eddie nods, “oh.” 

He looks at him, trying to figure out the look on his face. 

“We’re not, we’re friends.” 

“Are you?” Steve asks, “just friends?” 

Eddie nods, “yeah.”

He looks skeptic, unsure of whether he should believe him or not. He eyes the frown on his face, the sadness and the anger in Eddie’s brown eyes. 

“Do you love her?” Steve asks as his heart starts beating faster.

Eddie chuckles at the question, his eyes flash with something that Steve struggles to read. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, he just stares into nothing.

“Yeah, I do.”

Steve can’t describe the feelings inside of him, right now. Is he surprised to hear him say it? No. How could he not love you? 

Eddie would treat you better than he ever did.

As Eddie looks at him, he notices the sadness in his eyes – Steve wishes that things were different and he knows that you do too.

“But it’s not like that. I love her and I would do just about anything for her, she is my best friend,” he says to him as he continues to fidget with his rings, “she makes me happy and things are amazing the way they are. I never had someone like her in my life.”

Steve feels confused about his words, isn’t that how he felt about you once?

“You love her but you are just friends?” Steve mumbles. 

Eddie snorts, he leans his head against the wall and glances at him, “friends can love each other too, you know that right? It’s a different kind of love than how you would love a partner but it’s still love.” 

“I’m confused.”

“Platonic love, dude.” Eddie sighs, “do you know anything?”

Steve purses his lips, he shrugs, “well our platonic love turned into something else.”

“Then it was never platonic in the first place.”

Yeah, he might be right. Steve loved you, he always did, even when he was a kid and even when he said he didn’t. 

“You love her but you are not in love with her?” Steve asks, whispering the question this time when he remembers that you might be awake and listening in on their conversation. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, he bumps his head against the wall, his bangs fall in front of his eyes but he doesn’t bother to push them away. 

“We can be friends without being in love with each other, right?” 

Steve doesn’t know how to respond to that, he only shrugs. 

Just being friends, never worked out for you and him. 

“I fucking adore that girl, that’s all.” Eddie explains. 

The look on his face is genuine. 

“Things are good the way they are, between us, I mean.”

“Has it always been that way?” Steve asks, curiously. “I mean, from the start?” 

Steve notices the way he hesitates, the way his eyes don’t meet his anymore. Eddie knows exactly why he is asking, he is trying to find something out. He knows that you two have been friends for longer than he initially thought. 

The night at the dance, back in december, Steve remembered seeing you with Eddie at a party he threw back in august and it brought up questions, ones that he never dared to ask you after what he had done. 

He never remembered much from that night, just how drunk he was and how awful your fight had been, so awful that you didn't even spent the night at his place the way you usually did. No matter how bad a fight had been, you had never not stayed with him, except for that night.

“Uh, no..” Eddie mumbles, “we’ve only gotten this close after you two broke up.” 

Steve nods and decides to stop asking questions, it’s better that way. 

But now, Eddie takes his turn, he watches him with a questioning look in his eyes. 

“You love her, don’t you?” He asks, “you always did, right? All this, ‘I’m not in love with you anymore’ bullshit, was just bullshit, right?” He asks, chuckling.

Steve winces at that word, it takes him back to the night in your room, after he had tried to kiss you. 

‘That’s bullshit, Steve! Everything you do, everything you say is bullshit! Y-You’re bullshit!’

You were right about what you said, about what you called him and Eddie is right too. 

“Yeah,” he breathes, “it was just… bullshit. But, I’m with Nance now and things are great.”

Great. Just great.

Eddie raises his brows but he doesn’t say anything. There is more he’d like to say and know but, this isn’t the right time. 

A beat of silence brings back the awkwardness. They glance at each other, not knowing what else to say or do.

But both, get lost in their thoughts so easily. They both think about you, about what happened.

Wondering what Ray had said and done to you. It weren't just his actions that had hurt and upset you, it was something he said to you. Both, Eddie and Steve saw the look in your eyes, the haunted and deeply hurt one.

What words had he thrown at you?

“Hey Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“You know where Parker lives, right?” 

next chapter

tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @screammunson @hellfire--cult @taintedcigs @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfiregirlxx @take-everything-you-can @nemesis729 @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 11.2 (MBJ x Black OC)

A/N: Long awaited and well over due. This is basically chapter 12 but it really connects to 11.1. Nothing to say except enjoy!

“Michael, stop messing with the fuckin’ cuff links!” Alex called over to him from her spot on the couch. “I thought you weren’t nervous??” 

Michael cut his eyes toward his agent before forcing his fingers away from the gold cufflinks near his wrist. That had been his original claim when he arrived at his suite to get ready, proudly boosting that he did not feel nervous at all. And some part of him had believed that was true. But as makeup ended and he got dressed, the nerves started to settle in. Tonight was no longer some distant potential achievement. It was here and now. And his shoulders were starting to feel the weight of that pressure. He tried his best to remain excited and upbeat but there were some ticks he simply couldn’t hide. 

“Ha ha. I’m just… you know, already ready for it to be over. Gotta sit through 100 fuckin’ awards before they get to mine. Just gonna be a long night.” 

“Whatever you say,” she muttered, her face scrunching up at her phone for a minute. 

“Somethin’ wrong?” his antenna going up immediately, anxiety that something had already gone wrong seeping into his confident facade. “Fuck… You think we should’ve gone with the other suit, don’t you??” 

“Nigga… they’re both black tuxes, calm down. No one’s ever looked at you to be the pillar of fashion. You look great, that’s all that matters. Just taking care of some last minute details, boring shit you wouldn’t be interested in.” 

Michael knew not to press any farther as she immediately changed the subject, standing up and starting to walk over to him. He watched as she studied the time on her phone screen for a moment as his stylist’s assistant slid on the tailored jacket for his suite.

“Can someone check on his mom? Jason went to check out the space and it’s ready for photos. We gotta start in 10 though if we want to make it to the carpet.” 

“I’ll go.” 

He was thankful his mom agreed to accompany him on such a momentous occasion, she was the only date he could fathom taking as the woman he wanted was unavailable. 

Raven. 

Some fantasy that she would call or text him good luck drove him to check his phone every 20 minutes or so, praying for anything that signaled that she thought of him as he did her. She tortured his every waking thought, even after agreeing to give her the space she desperately wanted and needed. But his soul did not want space, his soul wanted their better half, the person who made all of this worth something. 

He shook his head for a moment and forced her to the back of his brain, where he knew she would only stay for a short while. No more than 10 minutes would go by before someone or something reminded him of her. But when he thought of her too long, the sparse stitches holding those wounds together tore open and blood flowed earnestly from them. And such emotional agony would not stand on the biggest night of his career. So he forced a smile onto his face and thoughts of a love he would likely never have again behind the barriers around his heart and knocked on the door to his mother’s room. 

However, he was not prepared to find her still clad in the lounging set Raven and he had bought her for Christmas, completely unprepared to attend the biggest night in Hollywood. 

“Ma, what’s wrong? We gotta leave soon. Why aren’t you dressed?” 

“Well I didn’t want to worry you while you were getting ready but I’m just not feeling well. I don’t think I can make it all evening. I’m sorry, baby.” 

Michael’s face fell ever so slightly at the disappointment, though he tried his hardest to hide it. It was not his mother’s fault that she was not feeling well and even he knew the rest of the day would be tiresome and exhausting for even those in good spirits. So he did not want her trying to suffer through on his account. However, he would not pretend that it did not sting, to know that he would not have anyone there to support him, hold his hand. That he would spend tonight… completely alone. 

Her renewed apologies made him fix his face immediately, knowing that she likely already felt badly for canceling on him. He had no interest in making her feel any worse. 

“I really am sorry, baby. But I wasn’t the date you wanted to take anyway,” she chuckled, her eyes filled with sympathy. 

Those makeshift barriers dissolved into nothing stronger than paper at her words. And as flimsy as they originally were, they were all he had to hold onto to get through tonight. 

“Don’t apologize, ma. Really no big deal at all. You should rest. And you know you’re always my favorite date. Besides, your love is the reason I’m here. You’ll always be my #1,” he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. When her eyes, unsurprisingly, filled with tears, Michael chuckled a bit. “Don’t cry on me. Alex will kill me for messin’ up this makeup.”  

She took a tissue and whisked away the pools of tears in her eyes before adjusting his bowtie.

“You know how proud I am of you? How lucky I am to be your mom? I thank God for you, your sister, and your brother every day. And all I’ve ever wanted for each of you is to live out your dreams and be happy. No matter what you do or who you’re with. Just that. Tonight you’re seeing God’s manifestation of your dreams and win or lose, I couldn’t be prouder of you. But even I know, only one person could make you truly happy tonight. That facade might fool the world but not me. I saw how happy she made you, Bakari. How she turned my scared little boy into a brave and vulnerable man without even trying. I may have gotten you here but her love and adoration and the love you have for her will keep you here. Will help you reach dreams I couldn’t even comprehend for you. And that’s a woman I’ll happily step into the #2 spot for any day.”

“Thanks ma… but I don’t think she wants that spot anymore… wants me anymore. Hell, I don’t even know where she is in the world.” The resigned smile on his face and the humorless laugh could not hide the depths of his sadness as he recalled the message he received from David letting him know that Raven boarded a flight to only God knows where. He had failed and even tonight could not take his mind off the 101 ways he failed the love of his life. “I screwed up. Gotta accept the consequences. I wanna be the man you raised and the man she thought she fell in love with. Even if I don’t get to be that for her.” 

“Give it time, Bakari. You know what I always reminded you three. Everything meant for you will come to you or find its way back to you. God never denies what he ordained as yours, sweetheart. Something to remember for more than one reason tonight.”

There was a certain mischievous glint in her eyes that did not match the typical motherly tone in her voice. “More than one reason” stuck out in his brain. 

What the fuck does that even mean? 

“What do you me-?” he started to ask when his mother cut him off. 

“Oh gosh, you know I didn’t even notice the time? You should go, dear. Don’t wanna get in trouble with that Alex, do we?” 

Realizing that it was almost showtime forced his confusion right out of his brain as he forced himself to focus on the moment, his moment. 

“Nah we don’t. She’s terrifyin’,” he admitted. “How about you lay down and rest for a while and Allen can take you home when you feel better? Or you can enjoy the suite for the night? Totally up to you.” 

“Thank you, baby. I’ll hang out here, let the traffic clear a bit then head to your sister’s. Everyone’s watching there. You look amazing. Can’t wait to see you shine tonight ” 

“Thanks, ma. Aight, I should head down to take pictures. Love you.”  

He squeezed her hand before she turned around and closed the door of her room behind her.  

He walked back to where his team was waiting. The lack of noise and hustle and bustle in the space caught him off guard as he expected to return to the same chaotic space with his team racing around him. However, only Alex stood waiting on him. 

“Where’d everybody go?” 

“Oh I sent them all downstairs. Figured you wouldn’t mind a couple minutes of peace before the longest night of your life.”  

And that was why, of everyone on his team, Alex was one of the few that stood the test of time. She knew him, truly knew him and what he needed. 

“Thanks.” He paused as he studied her. “You good?” 

Alex had been in the wings of every major career moment in Michael’s life and she typically brought an air of assurance and confidence that put Michael at ease. She was a staple calming force that kept his own anxiety in check. However, tonight? Everything about her seemed off, distracted and anxious in a way that made his empath sensors go haywire. She seemed utterly engrossed in her own phone, which was not unlike Alex but typically she cued Michael in, if nothing else. But tonight, she offered him no insight.  

“Yea… just a big night. Want to make sure everything’s perfect,” she muttered. “Come on… Jason says they’re ready for us.” 

Michael did not need to be the smartest person in the room to immediately recognize that she was hiding something from him. He knew he would never get it out of her as she was the world’s most secure vault for secrets. And there was a part of him that did not even want to know for fear that it would scare him into skipping the night altogether. What if she already found out that he lost? If anyone in his orbit was part of some dark Hollywood back channel, Alex would be it. Or something happened to Raven and she did not want him to lose his shit right before the event. Because they both knew he would drop all of this in a heartbeat for her. Foolish? Perhaps but that was how he knew he had found true love, his soul mate. Because nothing in this life was as important as her and he would drop all of it to rush to her side if she asked. But she would never ask, because she did not consider herself worthy of sacrifices, which only served as fuel to spend everyday proving to her that she was.

Why did he even try not to think of her? Somehow, every thought was merely the first step down a path that led right to Raven’s doorstep. 

He trailed slightly behind Alex as she led him to the elevator. However, before she hit the button, she stopped. 

“Oh shoot. I need to stop by my suite. Forgot somethin. It’s just down the hall, it’ll take two minutes. Got a gift for you for your big night. A little good luck charm.” 

“Alex, you know you didn’t need to get me shit.” And he truly meant that. He was just grateful to have Alex in his corner, her presence and commitment to his career was a gift in and of itself. “And send me the bill for your suite. Would’ve just gotten it for you.”

“Nah, it’s all good. It was last minute and I only got it for convenience, really.” She used her key to open the door and held it open so Michael could walk inside. 

However, as she opened the door, her usual resting bitch face (Alex’s words, not his) turned into a bright grin, one that she clearly tried desperately to minimize but couldn’t. And while Michael had expected flowers or a gift basket or even a bottle of his favorite rum, now he wondered if the gift was something far bigger than that. What he did not expect, when he turned the corner into her suite’s sitting area, was to find Raven awkwardly fidgeting with her gown as Jason made last-minute adjustments. 

“Wha…” His words died in his throat as she turned to face him, his stride stumbling backward in shock as he drank her in. 

He could have stood there and stared at her for the rest of the night and it would not have been enough time. Several lifetimes filled with millions of minutes and seconds would hardly scratch the surface of how much time he needed to simply consume her presence, to refill the parts of his soul that had depleted without her. 

Beautiful was a gross understatement for her. She was stunning, a goddess plucked from the heavens and placed among lesser men. Michael did not think he had ever laid eyes on a more radiant human being. But it was not her stunning beauty that caused tears to spring to his eyes. It was the look of renewed hope in hers, the smallest flame reignited after it had been utterly extinguished the last time he laid eyes on her. And fuck, that could’ve ended him right then and there. To see hope and light in her again, to see the Raven he had fallen so deeply for, she was all consuming. 

She had not even said a word yet but the impact of her choice to be there, to show up for him and choose him after everything conveyed a love words would not be sufficient enough to. The silence stretched on as he studied all the things that had made him fall in love. The soft expectant smile painted on her face as she stared at him that only solidified that she was willing and ready to rebuild with him. The anxious way her eyes glanced down at her own dress and her hands fidgeted that told him she was searching for his confirmation that he still wanted her here or that she looked beautiful, that reminded him of her awkwardness and endless humility that made him fall in love with her in the first place. The way her eyes, the most expressive aspect of her, somehow told him everything he needed to know without uttering a word. 

“I-I hope this is ok?” she asked quietly as she broke the silence and expectant tension that blanketed Alex’s suite, snapping Michael out of his speechless trance. “Admittedly, I only gave Alex and Jason like 24 hours notice. So our options were kind of limited b-but they said it would compliment yours a-and likely get me on a best dressed list, which d-doesn’t really matter but could be nice? I dunno though… think I’ve had enough publicity for a lifetime,” she laughed anxiously. “But I don’t know what’s appropriate to wear to the Oscars with the 2023 Best Actor and they do. But I know this probably isn’t what you envisioned when you invited me in January. But don’t blame them. It’s definitely my fault. Lost weight so my measurements weren’t quite right and the time thing. Honestly, give them a raise… well I can’t tell you what to do with your money. But you should…” she glanced over Michael’s shoulder at Alex who was staring at her with a look that simply said, ‘speed the reunion up, sis.’ So Raven cut herself off, her last rambling words falling off. “Consider it…” 

“You… you came?” 

“I heard you needed a date?” 

Michael rarely experienced true speechlessness, the right words rarely eluded him. He usually always knew what to say. His brain was on the verge of explosion with all the things he desperately wanted to say, his deepest proclamations of regret and love sat on his tongue but he just did not know where to start, could not find the place to start.

Meanwhile, Raven had an entire soliloquy of how she was ready to forgive and move forward because she loved him planned out in her mind. But every painstakingly chosen word evaporated from her mind as she looked at him, as she stared at the man her soul had come to recognize as her safest place to be. The one place that did not demand she provide her most perfect words or anything from her at all. It simply demanded, insisted, that she just be.

And now, the words that sprung to her mind were not perfect at all. They were raw, they were broken… they were her vulnerabilities, her fear, her pain, and they were her hope. Her wildest fantasies and her dreams. And she was no longer afraid to express them loudly here. Because he was the one place where she could. 

“You remember when I woke up in the hospital and the first thing I said to you was apologizing for not being the girl you wanted? For not being good enough? A-and you told me not to compare myself to h-her… or anyone else. B-”

“Because you’re one of a kind,” Michael finished simply.

“That was one of the nicest things a man… anyone had said to me in so long,” she admitted, her head bowing slightly. “And I didn’t believe it. I wanted to be loved by you so badly, Michael. B-But I couldn’t believe a man like you would ever think I was enough because I wasn’t enough for anyone. I wasn’t right for anyone. A-And I had internalized this narrative that I didn’t deserve love o-or to be happy. That I just deserved some second-rate, half life filled with disregard and pain because other people told me so. A-And when we s-started dating, I finally started to believe that all that hope had been worth something? That maybe I deserved something… better? A-And w-when I saw her, my heart immediately felt like… you were finally admitting it. I wasn’t enough for you either.”

Every punch and injury he sustained playing Adonis Creed paled in comparison to that. He did not know if it was possible to feel worse about what he had done.

“Rae… baby, you gotta know that-“ 

She held up her hand to stop him, Michael immediately falling silent. 

“I know… at the time though? It felt like God confirming everything everyone w-who knew me ever said, t-the fuel for that voice in my head that told me I would never b-be enough, w-was right. And all the ways you showed me I was enough, all the ways you showed up for me… didn’t seem real anymore. And that broke me. So I left, gave you the out I thought everyone who knew me wanted. T-this nuisance out of their lives. But you… you didn’t leave.”

Michael could hear the pure perplexity in her voice, as if the competing voices in her head could not square why he kept reaching out, kept showing up even as she pushed him away. 

“Because I love you.”

“Because you love me.” Raven repeated it but Michael could hear it, the recognition that his words were the truth.

“I… um. I don’t believe I deserve you,” Raven said simply. “But for the first time, I know that I want more than whatever life in the shadows I thought I had to have. I know that I don’t want to push away love a-and happiness anymore. A-and I don’t want to push you away anymore. B-Because you are love, safety, comfort… happiness. I want to believe I deserve better? I want… to believe I deserve you. Because when I’m with you…” 

Raven let out a shaky exhale that felt like her body starting to expel all those tormenting thoughts she internalized as she finally admitted out loud that this love was everything she always wanted. 

“When I’m with you, all I feel is joy. A joy so pure that only something hand crafted by God himself could feel so good. You’re every fantasy I dreamed of but never thought I could have. Since the moment I fell off that damn table like a clumsy fucking idiot, you’ve been my safest place, you’ve been home, and you’ve been one of the few people in my life who’ve loved me unapologetically and loudly.” 

She finally closed the space between them, putting herself within arm’s length of him. 

“And I owe you an apology for… letting my exhaustion and pent up pain blind me to all the ways you’ve loved me loudly since the day we met. Regardless of how tired a-and exhausted I am from falling and crashing into the rocks, you were always worth climbing back up that mountain. You were always worth a second chance. And I should’ve recognized that far earlier.”

A pressure valve Michael did not even know had formed in his body released at her words. It felt like being able to take a deep breath again.

“So I’m here and I’m still hurt a-and exhausted but I’m ready to do something different, ready to run toward the cliff and take the leap and fall again. And I want to do that with you… If I’m not too late?” 

Michael did not even command his legs to move as her confirmation hit his ears. Before either of them could utter another word, she was in his arms. A sweet giggle erupted as he pulled her unexpectedly toward him and crashed his lips against hers. And the peace that brought was unparalleled. 

Raven could have melted against him, her soul at ease for the first time in too long as he held her tightly. 

The rest of their small audience melted away as their hearts and souls sought to reclaim their other half, their kiss spelling out every ache and pain their brief separation caused. His lips felt so familiar, so much like home, that it almost hurt. Every second in his arms felt as if it mended the fissures of Raven’s heart one by one, stitching her back together intentionally and with such care that it made her want to sob. 

Her own foolishness baffled her. How could she have denied herself this? This ethereal, otherworldly type of love. She would never find something comparable with another living soul. Because this insanely perfect man in front of her was it for her. She had never had a real family but in his arms, she could see one and it was everything she had ever dreamed for herself. The emotions of finally accepting, even in objective disbelief, his love for her hit her in waves that gently crashed over her one by one. But she was not overwhelmed like before, drowning beneath them as she fought for air. 

This was serenity, gentle waves blanketing her in warmth and care. Such care that it was painful to pull away to catch her own breath. 

Was breathing really a necessity right now?? She demanded of herself as his touch set off heat and flames of desire as he touched her. Weeks and weeks of deprivation meant she needed this more than she could describe, needed the physical representation of his love. His touch, his kiss, his devotion to her needs.  

She did not even look away from him but her next words were for the pair awkwardly lingering in the room, long forgotten.  

“We need 10 minutes.” 

Alex groaned, breaking the sexual tension in the room with her annoyance, though she acquiesced far faster than Raven expected. Though she suspected his longtime agent could see a losing battle from a mile away. 

“Fine but you really only get 10 minutes. Fuckin’ Oscars not a goddamn industry party. Can’t just roll in whenever we feel like it. And I swear to God… if you fuck on my bed or fuck up your outfits and make up, I’ll spend the rest of my life breaking you two up again.” 

And with that, she grabbed Jason by his sleeve and marched out of the suite, leaving the two of them alone. Raven did not even wait for the click of the door to launch herself back into his arms, her fingers working faster than her mind could direct to undress him. 

If anyone could see them, she imagined their movements were feral, so frenzied with their carnal instincts that it looked purely chaotic. Raven’s dress was in a crumble at her feet, his suit jacket was somewhere Raven could not even see. Her fingers rushed to undo the buttons of his shirt before abandoning the task for his pants. 

“Fuck, why are there so many buttons??” She came up for air long enough to moan in frustration as Alex’s warning rang out in her head. 

Only ten minutes. How was that enough time? That was not even a fraction of the time she required to do all the things her brain demanded she do to feel all of him and ensure he felt all of her too. 

“Fuck I missed you,” he uttered between kisses as he tried to take her incredibly tight but effective spanx off. 

She prayed Alex’s threat was a joke because she did not need a mirror to know her makeup would indeed need more than a light retouch. His kisses were unyielding, sloppy and utterly unrestrained. Their need for each other simply fed off the others and she knew neither would be satiated in ten minutes.

We need to stop, she thought. It was the biggest night of his career. She should stop so he could focus on that, right? 

But she couldn’t, didn’t want to. 

“I need you,” she whimpered, her desire to be filled far louder than the time clock in her head. 

And her voice was so needy that Michael, whose self-control was hanging by a thread, almost gave in. 

The only thing that gave him the strength to stop them before neither of them would be able to stop was the knowledge that she deserved more than a 10-minute quickie. She deserved to be devoured with every ounce of his being devoted to and focused on her. No interruptions, no distractions. She was a goddess to be worshiped with every stroke in her heat and that was not a process that could be rushed.  

“Baby, baby, baby,” he gently cradled her neck, forcing her to slow down and look at him. His resolve was tested at the lust in her eyes, how her entire body was suddenly flushed with heat. “Fuck…” the words were agony to push out but necessary. “I want you so bad. But not like this.” 

Raven, still a work in progress, could not stop the immediate intrusive thought that he did not want her, that she had misread everything. Michael could see it, how her eyes flashed with that fear and insecurity. He would never not want her, he would happily remind her of that every day if necessary. But he knew himself too well. Once he found himself trapped inside her, he would not be able to stop himself. And he wanted to take his time. 

“It’s not you. It’s never you,” he brushed her hair behind her ear. “I just… I want more for this than a 10-minute quickie in a hotel room that isn’t even ours. You deserve more.” 

Her heart swelled at his words, realizing that he was not even thinking about the clock. He was merely thinking about her. That forced her to calm down a bit, her lust still red hot and flowing but the logical part of her brain was taking control again. 

The slight pout on her face made him chuckle and pull her in for another kiss. It was deeper and more sensual, a quiet plea to trust that he would always give her what she needed. Even if not in the exact timing her body desired it. 

“Every moment with you counts and I’m not lettin’ anymore pass that I don’t treat you like you deserve. Trust me, I’ll give you what you need, baby girl. It’ll be worth the wait.” 

Raven knew he was right. Despite the persistent ache in her core, she knew she could wait for what he planned. It would be far better than a rushed reunion on a couch anyway.

“I trust you. Just make sure your team knows to clear your very packed schedule for the next couple days,” she teased as she stole one last kiss before she tried to put some distance between them. Her body still wanted him desperately and while she trusted him, she was not sure she trusted herself. 

But Michael merely pulled her back in and held onto her tighter. 

“Oh the world ain’t gon’ see me or you for more than a couple days. I’m all yours.” He winked at her before helping her get her dress back on and his own suit back on. Once he opened the door to let Alex back in, both of them looked exactly as the two had left them, not a hair out of place. Save Raven’s lipstick, which was completely gone. 

“Damn… three minutes? Knew you couldn’t be worth the hype,” Alex immediately said as she breezed back into the suite, utterly unbothered by the idea that the two might have fucked just moments prior. 

“You always got jokes.” 

Alex immediately fired off last-minute directions to the makeup team to fix Raven’s before they prepared for photos and to leave.  Though Raven had endured the tedious process of getting ready for awards and premieres  before, today was the most hectic yet. But she was not panicked because she stuck close to Michael, who was the picture of ease and calm. He was the eye of this hurricane, the small world that was him purely at ease even when he should not be. 

“You nervous?” she asked as the photographer directed her to perch on Michael’s knee before going to switch out the lens on his camera.  

He offered her the most sincere smile, his eyes glimmering with all the love and adoration he felt toward her. 

“Nah. Why would I be? I already got the most important thing I needed today. Tonight’ll just be a cherry on top.” 

***

Raven was beginning to wonder if her return had turned Michael’s hands into magnets. He barely let her go since they walked out of Alex’s suite. She could not help but laugh when Michael only allowed the photographer two minutes of individual photos before he pulled Raven back into his arms. It was not as if she minded one bit, she had so missed this, missed his touch. It was addicting. 

“You stare at me any harder, I’m gonna combust,” she joked as they sat in the back of his limo, Raven leaning into his side as she had done so many times before. . 

“My bad, my bad. I’m just fuckin’ shocked you’re here.” He weaved his fingers among hers, bringing her hand into his lips. “You know I’m gonna spend everyday making all this shit up to you, right?” 

“I know and I also know it’s unnecessary. I won’t lie, I’m still hurt and confused by what happened. But I know we can fix it. I don’t need you to feel guilty for the rest of our relationship either.”  

“The rest of our lives,” he softly corrected with a playful shove to her shoulder that made her giggle. Fuck he missed that sound, missed her smile.

“The rest of our lives,” she repeated. “I just need you to love me. That’s it.” 

“That’s a given, baby girl.” 

She leaned over and pecked him softly on the lips before settling back in his arms. 

“So… Can I read your speech?” she asked sweetly, knowing there was a terribly crumbled piece of paper stuffed into his jacket pocket. 

“Nope.” 

Raven immediately pouted, putting on the playful sad puppy eyes that always got to him. 

“Those ain’t gon’ work today, baby. But only cause I can’t show you a speech I don’t have.” 

Raven’s eyebrows creased in confusion, immediately assuming that his lack of a prepared speech meant he did not think he would win. How could he think such a thing? 

“Michael… You know you’re gonna win. And you’ve scripted all the others. Why didn’t you write one for tonight? I can jot you something down real quick?” she immediately started to look around as if her cell-phone-sized clutch was big enough to secretly contain a pen and paper. “Allen!” She leaned toward the front. “Do you have any paper? Spare receipt?” 

“Baby, BABY!” Michael called, gripping her hips to guide her back to her seat and calm her panic. “I didn’t say I didn’t write one,” he clarified. “I said I don’t have it. I just realized that… the scripted speeches are not what I want tonight. Need a different direction. So I gave the speech to Alex before we left.” 

Though Raven could guess the reason for a sudden need for a new direction in the 11th hour. But she still found herself asking anyway. “Any reason for this different direction?” 

“Just think I should speak from the heart if I win, you know? Like I did in that interview. If I get to go on that stage tonight, wanna do it as the man I’ve become. Dunno if I have your way with words, though. Not nervous about losing but I’m nervous about fuckin’ up up there, not sayin’ the right thing, you know? Or everyone hating it?” 

Raven’s eyes softened a bit, always appreciating this vulnerable side of him. She knew how difficult and painful it had been to reveal that side to her and to the world. But she knew he was better for it. 

“You don’t need my way with words, baby. You just need yours and yours is poetic, it’s kind a-and loving and true. That isn’t a new direction o-or a new man, Michael. It’s just you. Every moment I’ve known you, that’s just you. You just let me see it and I’m so grateful for it. And you’ve let the world see glimpses of it in the last few months a-and if the response is any indication, the world is grateful too. You’re not nervous about saying the wrong thing. Going out there without the armor you’ve built to protect yourself is just scary. But it’s worth it. You taught me that. Don’t think about the right or wrong words. Just what you want to say about this moment. Whatever words you have will be right.” 

“Feel like you got more poetic on me since January.” 

Raven chuckled and shook her head. “Still only minimally poetic… and I can’t take credit for that one.” But she stopped herself before she said more. Now did not feel like the best moment to drop emotional bombs. 

“We’re here, Mr. Jordan. About three cars in front of us,” Allen called out from the front seat. 

He glanced at Raven, her eyes suddenly swimming with panic that he could tell she desperately wanted to swallow. He could almost see the realization hit her like a wall. She was about to walk out into the public eye for the first time in months at Hollywood’s most significant night of the year. And Michaell had been so elated to have her back that he had not considered how emotionally overwhelming that had to be. 

Raven was determined to hide it as best and long as she could. Tonight was all about Michael and his career. And she had accepted being in the public eye when she decided to go back to him. She knew it would be difficult but he was worth it. They were worth the sacrifice. But her brain assaulted her with every possible name she would be called, the headlines that would materialize tomorrow. And all of that would reflect poorly on him. What if she ruined his life… again?

“Hey, hey, Rae. Baby girl. Look at me,” his hands gently framed her face to force her eyes to him. “Don’t worry about them. It’s just you and me, aight? Tonight’s ours. The first night of the rest of our lives, showing up 100% in our truth. None of this other shit matters. So just focus on me. I won’t let you go, I promise.” 

“Just you and me,” she repeated, nodding slightly. 

And with that, he opened the limo door, standing tall as crowds shouted his name and the chaotic sounds of the carpet filled their ears. 

First night of the rest of our lives. And she was ready. 

***

Though she had not been to many award shows with Michael thus far, she learned one key thing. They were just as boring as they looked on tv except when you were the date of a popular nominee, you did not have the luxury of letting that boredom show. 

Will my jaw ever recover, she wondered as it ached from smiling through three hours of devastatingly mediocre jokes and long-winded speeches. At least the carpet was exciting and thrilling, as daunting as it was. In fact, the carpet was actually fun for the first time.

The chaotic jungle was its usual frantic chaotic place, not any different than she expected. But perhaps it merely felt different because she and Michael were so different from who they were the last time they were out together. They had stripped themselves bare and had shed their armor. They were standing decidedly in their truth and the immense love they shared. And that felt like a new world.

And she noticed so much more than her self-pitied colored glasses allowed her to see. Every protective touch, every studious glance to ensure she was still smiling and well, the well-timed playful remarks or jokes he whispered in her ear right when her nerves started to encroach, every gentle kiss that still held his endless passion for her. She finally saw it all and felt it. And it was everything. 

Michael straightened up next to her, pulling Raven out of her own daydreams. Robert Downey Jr. made his way to the middle of the stage, an envelope labeled Best Actor printed boldly across it. 

She tightened her grip on Michael’s hand. She had a good feeling about this. 

“A leading man is more than an attractive face, though I’m sure every woman would agree that all five men in this category have that quality in common as well. But what they also have in common is vulnerability, empathy, and the courage to search for the humanity and depth of their characters to embody their wants, their fears, their grief, their sorrow boldly and bravely. These five performances are exemplary and remind us all just what a leading man is. Here are the nominees for Best Actor in a Motion Picture.” 

The room dimmed ever so slightly as the reel started to play, the seconds that passed felt more like hours as they watched snippets of each performance. Michael’s was last, Raven’s free hand gently rubbing his arm as she felt his nerves finally kick in. She was impressed he only felt them now, she would have been an utter mess all evening.

“And the winner is…” the Marvel actor did a little fist pump that immediately gave the winner away, deafening applause almost drowning out his name. “Michael B. Jordan, Waves.” 

Michael’s head fell into his hand for a moment, genuine shock coursing through him. He had convinced himself that he would not win to minimize the disappointment. But he had not really considered how it would feel to actually win? To actually receive this honor. And it was more than he could have hoped it would be. 

Raven pulled him into her arms as they stood, tears swimming in her eyes. 

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered before he kissed her. 

He honestly would have been fine to simply revel in this moment in her arms but he knew the clock was ticking on his speech.

He finally let her go and jogged up the stairs, giving RDJ a hug before stepping in front of the mic. The entire theater was still on their feet applauding and cheering as he stared out into the crowd. 

“Wow. Thank you so much for this. As a kid from New Jersey, you just don't really ever expect your dreams to take off like this, to end up in a place like this. This is just… more than I could’ve ever dreamed for myself. So thank you. There are a million people for me to thank and not enough time before they play me off. My family and friends, my team and manager, the cast and crew who poured their hearts and souls into this film… Without all of you, I wouldn’t have made it here tonight and I’m grateful for your constant support.” 

He glanced down at the trophy in his hand before continuing. “Umm… But there’s one person I do want to thank though and that is the love of my life, Raven Turner. When I look at you, all I can think of is how rewarding it is to be loved by you, to be chosen by you. That makes every day feel like I’ve just won an Oscar. I feel so blessed to be given the opportunity to love you, to stand in your light, and to live everyday working to be the man worthy of your love. Getting to share this moment with you goes beyond anything I could’ve imagined. Thank you for seeing me for all that I am and loving me for it. Thank you for falling with me, baby and I hope I make every day of our lives together worth it.” 

She knew that the tears that streamed down her face were not attractive or good for the camera that was surely about to pan to her but she could not have hoped to care. 

“I love you,” she mouthed though she doubted he could even see her from up there. 

“I love you. Thank you!” He held the statue up in his hand before turning and walking off stage, his standing ovation renewing. 

***

Michael wanted to laugh at how Raven stretched her body like an adorable kitten after sleeping like the literal dead for most of the daylight hours. He did not blame her, they did not stumble back into his house until after 4 am. Once the show ended, the pair bounced from after party to after party drinking, smoking, and dancing the night away. He had not had that much fun at industry events and parties in so long. And it had been so much fun that he was *almost* sad it was over, a perfect final night of an insane run in his career. 

But then he remembered that closing that chapter meant he could focus his attention on the perfect and hopelessly exhausted woman rousing in his arms. They could heal without the distractions of events and the public eye. They could build their lives together officially. The joy of that instinctively caused him to pull her into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of her head. 

“Mornin’ baby,” he whispered, his gruff voice filling her ears as Raven slowly opened her eyes.  

Peace and contentment gently glided through her frame like a light summer’s breeze, easing all the aches and pains she had felt before. She had missed this… falling asleep snuggled in his arms, wrapped lovingly and tightly in his scent. She would have been inclined not to move until she caught a glimpse of the time on his iPad. 

She let out a soft gasp as she tried to shoot up, shocked at how late she slept. However, his tight grip stopped her from lifting much beyond her head and chest. 

“You gotta let me go, baby. We should get up. It’s almost 3 pm… sorry, don’t even know how I slept that fucking late. I know you got shit to do.” 

“We had a late night and there ain’t shit to do today. And if there had been, I would’ve told you. Rest.” 

She used the back of her hand to rub her eyes as she glanced at him, studying how his eyes returned to a script on his iPad that was highlighted to death. She merely rolled her eyes. Of course he would be working right after the biggest night of his career. 

“How long have you been up?” 

“Since 11 or so?” he shrugged. “Figured I’d relax and read some scripts my team pulled for Outliers. Been so crazy, they’ve just been piling up. Grabbed a snack bout an hour ago and made you some tea but it’s definitely cold. I can make you more if you want.” 

“Why didn’t you wake me??” 

He merely shrugged with his unbothered charm, his hand gently rubbing her back, which lulled her into laying her head down on his chest again despite her brain’s alarm bells to get up.

How am I so tired?? She wondered as her eyes threatened to fall shut again. All her body wanted to do was fall asleep in his arms.  

“When you didn’t even move when I got up, it seemed like you needed the rest. And still do.”  

“I’m good.” 

“Those bags under your eyes say otherwise.”

“I know you ain’t talking…” she offered back, glancing pointedly at the equally stark dark circles under his eyes. 

“Touche. But no actor gets enough sleep. Early call times, global press tours, events and after parties. It’s the name of the game. You haven’t been taking care of yourself?” His annotation was that of a question but they both knew the answer. “How much sleep you been getting since we-” Michael stopped himself, the words he held back still hanging heavily in the air. There was still so much they still had to discuss, wounds that were still unhealed and unresolved. 

While Michael thought Raven was always stunning, he could not ignore the obvious toll the events of late had taken on his girl. He thought it had just been emotional but he had not seen her long enough to notice the physical strain his actions had caused too. And while she had told him not to feel guilty, he did. So he was not going to wake her up or bother her when it was clear she required a reset. And while he would always adore her for rallying for him last night, today was a new day. And she deserved to be catered to and have someone take care of her for a change. 

“Couple hours a night… Between the break up and the paparazzi during the first couple weeks… and then all the shit on social media, I was just on edge 24/7, my brain couldn’t shut off long enough to sleep… or sleep well. I had some old sleeping pills I used some nights when I was desperate but… it was hard not to think about everything over and over and over again. And then wallow in it.” 

“You stopped eating too? You lost weight.” 

Raven chuckled. “You know most men wouldn’t have a problem with their girlfriend losing a couple pounds. Wasn’t like I didn’t need to.” 

“You’re fuckin’ sexy at any weight but I gotta problem with anything that means you ain’t taking care of yourself. Especially when it’s my fault.” 

“I didn’t do it on purpose and it’s no one’s fault. I just… didn’t really have an appetite a lot. But that’s starting to come back. I’m fine, Michael. Truly. We’re still celebrating you, can’t end that early just to fuss over little ole me.” 

Michael knew she wanted him to pretend he believed her for the sake of not discussing this right now. But what was the point in that? He would not pretend he had not been terrified for her. That he was not still terrified at how all of this had worn her down. And he knew it was not just what he did, it had just been the final straw in a life-long list of painful experiences. But one thing Raven had always had when he looked at her was hope, even if the flame was as small as a dying candle. There was always an air about her that let him know she genuinely believed things would get better one day. 

But when he saw her at her apartment, the night at that bar? That was gone, completely extinguished. Her eyes, his favorite part of her, held nothing but sorrow. He would not be able to live with himself if he ever saw that look in her eyes again. 

“You aren’t fine, Rae. I know that shit. And I’m allowed to worry about you. I mean shit, how you looked after that video was bad enough. Then the bar?? Not gon’ forget that shit happened just cause we’re back together. And I’m not gon’ pretend you’re fine when you aren’t either. You’re not gonna keep sweeping your needs under the rug. We can lay here all day and sleep if that’s what you need.”

“You have better things to do, Mr. Academy Award Winner then watch me sleep. I can take care of myself.” 

“What if I like watching you sleep??” 

“Then that would be kinda endearing and… kinda creepy?” she mused. “But mostly endearing.” Not that she would ever admit it but she enjoyed watching him sleep too. 

“Well I might be creepy then,” he admitted. He did genuinely love watching her sleep, when she was in his arms, there was just a rare peace about her that he loved to see. “The outside world has gotten too much of me lately. Now, the only thing I wanna do is take care of you. Not cause you can’t do that shit yourself but because you shouldn’t have to. Everyone needs to be taken care of and I’m not letting the next 30 years go by without you knowing what that feels like. Now you’re gonna feel it. Every single day. Rest, Raven.”

His words tumbled through her brain as she stared at him for a moment, her eyes brimming with tears. She was exhausted and not just physically. But of carrying the weight of every problem on her shoulders, of being alone in crafting solutions. She was so often consumed by pure survival and it had made her resourceful and smart. There was not a problem that life threw at her that Raven had not figured out a way through. She was stuck in survivor mode 24/7. But the problem with survival is that it was an all-consuming task. There’s no opportunity… no room to rest. And no one to take on the burdens for her so she could. 

“I just haven’t h-had anyone… who cared enough to worry… in a long time, no one willing to share the load,” she offered simply, sniffling lightly. “Until you hired David… I didn’t think you cared what happened to me after we… I ended things.” 

“I did. I do.” His hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb whisking away the tears that slowly fell. “Fuck, I thought about you every minute of the damn day, Rae. You had me over here losing my damn mind. I care… I love you so much, it fucking killed me. And scared me. And I deserved it, to worry and stress and flip shit because I fucked up… I hurt you.”

“You did. But it wasn’t just you. Life’s been shit before and I could always, you know, keep going? It was just the final blow to the little bit of hope I had? And I just didn’t see the point in getting back up again. That was my best… the bare minimum needed to keep breathing. The heartache… I knew I could get over that eventually. One day in the far fucking future, I could… would force myself to get over you. Or just accept that I could never have you. It was the ache of losing hope that killed me. It was like my soul ached? And there were moments, like the night of your premiere, that I just thought that would never heal?” 

“So you got wasted? To forget?” 

She chuckled. “Alcohol is a great temporary solution. When you’re that low… shit gets desperate,” she admitted. “Anything to numb the pain for a short while. But it always comes back.” 

“How often?” 

“Rarely and that was the worst night, I promise. Honestly, wasn’t sure I’d ever want to touch alcohol again after that.”  

“And now? How do you feel?” 

“The wounds in my heart still need mending but every second back with you has healed parts of my soul. I’m… not ok,” she admitted, Michael immediately empathizing with how difficult it was for her to say those words. “You’re right… it doesn’t just go away. But I will be ok.” 

He nodded. “I know you will be. I’m gonna make sure of it. Raven… look, I know this shit is scary, giving up control when you’ve been the one driving for so long, the one responsible for everything for so long. But I’m here, I’m not going anywhere and I’m not gonna let go again. It’s safe to let someone else behind the wheel for a while. Rest for me, baby girl. Please. 

As if she was light as a feather, he shifted her so her body laid on top of his chest, his strong arms anchoring her in that spot. She buried her face in the nape of his neck, breathing in the perfect scent that her heart recognized as him. 

Even as her body resumed its pliant posture in his arms, Raven realized she did not want rest. No, she wanted to feel him in the very depths of her. She knew they had to talk, knew there were conversations to be had. But fuck, she could not wait. She wanted to revel in this moment, of finally being with someone who genuinely loved her and cared. And she needed to feel it on a cellular level. 

Raven forced herself to sit up, quickly straddling his hips and giving him a quick but tantalizing grind against him. That turned his frown into a mischievous grin, though she could still see the concern in his eyes. 

“This is the opposite of rest, baby girl.” 

“I’ll rest as long as you want after. I need you.” 

“We still got a lot to talk about, Rae. I just don’t want you to get caught up in the moment ‘n not really want this yet. ‘N I…” Raven should have been put off the pure animalistic look simmering in his eyes. But instead it just made the desire grow stronger, long tentacles stretching out to every pleasure zone in her body. Demanding he touch, bite, slap, caress… literally do anything to satiate her. “I’m not sure what you need, what we both need.”  

Her palms cupped his face, guiding his eyes to hers. “Then don’t be sure. I love that you take care of me, Michael. But taking care of me isn’t having the perfect thing to say or do for me. Sometimes, it’s just being you and figuring it out as we go. I know I need you. And that’s what I want, to feel every part of you… whatever you have to give me. And everything we need to talk about will still be here when you’re done with me.”

And with her permission, the reins holding him back evaporated and he pounced. Raven was on her back before she could blink, Michael capturing her lips, reminding her of the dominance she missed. And desperately craved it.  

“Tell me what you need, baby,” he whispered in her ear.

“Everything. All of you.” 

Michael would happily oblige. He licked his lips as he stared down at her. Where would he even start? 

Some part of him wanted to render her utterly immobile as he usually did. But a more significant part of him just wanted to savor her. Wanted to feel everything she had to offer and bask in having her back with him. And while he loved the fast-paced dominant sex they were used to, it did not always allow for that. And he knew in his heart that they both needed more than fast and furious today.

His hands gently ran up the smooth skin of her thighs, gathering the oversized t-shirt on her frame in his hands and sliding it off. Her nipples pebbled slightly at the cold air against her warm skin. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. You know that shit right?” he asked as he pressed soft kisses against her neck. 

“Y-yes,” she whispered, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot before moving down to her collarbone. 

“You know how much I love you? What I’d do for you?” he continued a slow but intentional path down her body, lingering on her chest as he engulfed each of her nipples between his lips. He took his time there, remembering how much she enjoyed nipple play. His mind called back to the numerous times he put clamps on them. His tongue licked her nipples, Raven whimpering and squirming beneath his hot mouth.

Soon, they would reacquaint themselves with those roles, he thought. If she was up for it.

Her body was ablaze as his lips and tongue found their home on every inch of her skin he could get to. Down he trekked, only slowing when he got to the paradise between her thighs. He knew her inner thighs were a weak spot, something he learned long long ago. He knew it was the teasing that got to her, being so close to where she needed pleasure the most but not exactly there yet. 

“Fuck I missed this,” he whispered. “Those little moans you make, how I make you squirm and beg and plead. The taste of you on my tongue.” 

“Michael… please,” she whimpered. “I need…” the words were lost on her, her brain was no longer in the decision-making business. Her body, the pleasure sensors that lived beneath the surface of her skin guided every feeling, every filthy thought, every base desire and need. “C-Can’t wait.” 

He lifted his head from between her thighs, his breath teasing her core with heat that turned her into putty in his hands. She could not wait, she needed to be connected to him. To feel their bodies become one again in the most intimate and carnal way. 

“You trust me, baby?” 

“With my life,” she answered truthfully. 

While his actions had shaken that trust, when it boiled down to it, she would never trust her body with anyone as she did with Michael. She was his and he had never harmed her or made her regret handing over the reins to her pleasure to him. He had proven himself worthy of it tenfold. 

“Then trust that Imma take care of you, princess. Always.” 

Princess… fuck was it possible for her heart to literally explode? Or for her to be anymore wet than she already was? 

His poor sheets, she mused. 

He resituated her legs on his shoulders and grinned up at her as he continued nipping at her inner thighs, Raven’s soft moans only spurring him on. She was already a mess… a delicious, delectable mess to be sure, her juices glistening and begging him to lick, suck… devour her. 

“Fuck… all this for me, baby?” he smiled as his kisses and bites grew closer and closer to where she desired, where she needed his touch the most. 

“Y-yes…” Her body had missed him more than she realized. 

“I missed you.” And with that short statement, devour her, he did. 

Bliss. 

Ecstasy. 

Fucking nirvana. 

He made her feel all of it with one masterful flick of his tongue against her bud, her back arching off his mattress and a guttural moan rising from her belly. He proved within minutes that he had not forgotten, forgotten what buttons to push, what spots to focus his attention, how she liked to be pleasured. 

He did not let up or come up for air as  his mouth savored every inch of her that he could, spelling out his adoration and love for her - not with his words - but with his tongue and his two fingers buried in her heat. There was a sensual pace to it that she was not used to with him. Typically, sex was deliciously punishing and unyielding. It was rooted in his care and gentleness for her but the pace left no time to breathe. Not that she minded. 

But today? He took particular care, the march up to her peak was tantalizingly slow but perfect all the same. There was no rush between them, despite Raven’s original desire to fit almost 2 months of lost time into this one moment. But Michael understood that they had time. There was no invisible clock, nothing rushing them. He could savor the little gasps of pleasure when he sucked her clit gently, the way her legs clamped around his head when she was close, how her pussy clenched around his fingers as he increased his speed to exactly where she liked, how her hips rocked to meet every thrust. 

Every plea, every moan, every scream for more. He wanted to hear all of it. And he wanted her to savor the feeling of being taken care of, because she would need to learn to get used to it. He could do this every day, more than once a day to be honest. 

“So… close,” her moans grew louder and louder as he took her to the edge of the cliff of pleasure. 

She allowed herself to fall as she felt the pleasure in her belly snap. Her mouth simply remained agape with a breathless scream on her lips as she fell into the depths of ecstasy. The crash didn’t feel like one at all, but a soft landing as he continued his ministrations against her clit, drawing out her orgasm for as long as he could. And it was pure bliss, warm waves of pleasure continuing to crash over her until he finally extracted himself from between her legs. 

“That was…” Being at a loss for words was commonplace when they fucked. But Michael understood as he pressed his lips to hers, allowing her to taste herself briefly. 

“Fuck!” she cried out as he immediately started to sheathe himself inside her, a welcomed surprise. She tried to hide it as her face screwed for a split second, her body becoming reacquainted with his girth and size. The stretch he provided today in particular, given their stint apart, was a short-lived sting of pain that managed to take her breath away. 

He immediately stilled. 

“Talk to me, Rae. You good?” 

Her eyes were still shut tight as she waited for a moment for her to get used to him again. So she merely nodded. 

“Words, baby.” 

“Y-Yea I’m good. J-just been a minute a-and you surprised me.” She let out a content sigh as pain gave way to mind numbing pleasure, giving him the directive to move. “A-and t-that’s not… fair,” she moaned. “W-wanted… to taste… you too.” She wanted to force her lips into a playful pout but the only facial expressions her muscles could conjure up were those of passion and pleasure. 

“Next time, princess.” He sucked on the soft skin of her neck as he drove into her. 

Raven could only see the darkness of the back of her head as her eyes rolled back with every rock forward of his hips, sending his dick right into her g-spot. His thrusts were relentless, Raven’s nails digging into his back as she held onto him for dear life. 

“Fuck… I-I love you,” she panted, unable to form any other real sentences worth anything. That was all that needed to be said in her mind. 

“Say it again,” he demanded, gently biting her neck as her declaration of love only spurred him on. He grabbed her legs and pulled her ankles to his shoulders. 

“I love… FUCK! Fuckkkkk, j-just like that!” She cried out, abandoning the words originally on her lips for completely incoherent ramblings of a woman who was being split into two but loved every single second of it. 

Did he just kill me?? Am I dead?? Because this no longer felt of this world? No human being should be allowed to experience this sort of pleasure. Or be able to give it… was the man above her even human? 

“You feel so good, baby. You like how I’m fuckin’ this pussy??”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck I love it so much. Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” 

Stopping?? An utterly foreign concept to him at that moment. And he did not. Raven barely could breath as Michael moved her into position after position, fucking her into oblivion. 

Tears sprang to her eyes as he fucked her from behind, his teeth biting gently into the skin of her neck.

“Where you want it, princess??” he demanded as he felt himself getting close. 

“Cum inside me,” she gasped, not wanting their union to end any sooner than it needed to. This was as close as they could get and for some part of her, it still was not close enough. 

More, more, more, her soul seemed to demand. More of him. 

“Don’t say that shit to me if you don’t mean it?” he warned, those few words causing a fever to settle over him, his hips snapping forward into her ass with a force that jolted her further into his mattress. 

“Please, baby,” she whined desperately, unable to find any other words to assure him that was what she wanted. 

Euphoric was the only word that came to mind as he pulled her flush to his chest and emptied his cum inside her. 

“Thank you, thank you,” she panted, her pussy clenching around him as he pumped in and out of her slowly.

Michael gently let her body fall into the mattress, Raven’s eyes already starting to flutter closed as he went to grab a warm towel. Another whimper escaped her lips as he cleaned her up. 

“That was… whew. I missed you.”

Michael did not bother putting his own clothes back on but instead slid into bed with her, cuddling her body against his. 

Of course now, sleep was not something Rave could avoid, her body spent as it always was after their time together. 

“ Give me an hour and then my legs will work again. And then I’m taking over,” she muttered as she yawned. 

He merely laughed and nodded, pressing his lips to her forehead. 

“Wouldn’t bet on it. I only made you cum four times.” 

Raven lifted her head to look at him incrediously. “Only four??? I can’t feel my legs, babe.” Her jaw dropped at the slight frown creasing his lips. “Oh my God… you’re actually upset,” she laughed. “You’re insane.” 

“I have a reputation to uphold, babe. Six minimum every time.” 

“If you wanna kill me, just say so,” she joked.

“Just tryin’ to put you to sleep without a fight,” he offered with a smile. “I give it five minutes before you’re out like a light.” 

“Very mischievous but effective.” 

Raven did not understand how she could even require more sleep, even after a palty (as Michael would complain) four orgasms. But he had accomplished his goal, her entire body was boneless and pliant in his hands. Everything in her told her she was finally home and safe to let go of everything else for the first time in her life. So she welcomed the coming rest, allowing her eyes to drift closed. However, before she fully gave in, she whispered. 

“You should rest too… you’ve been going and going since the top of the year. You’ve earned it too.” 

“Deal.” 

The life of an actor was defined by sleep deprivation so Michael had learned the important trait of falling asleep literally anywhere and anytime. Because his body was on his press tour schedule, he had felt wide awake after a few hours of rest this morning. But he knew if he closed his eyes for 5 minutes, he would pass out again. 

“I love you,” he offered quietly as he shifted them both so he was laying down again. 

“Not as much… as I love you,” she mumbled back as her eyes fluttered closed.

Tag list: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @majesticbrown @roguekiki @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154 @munchsa

***

A/N: Whew ok y'all do not know how much I agonized over this chapter LOL but our babies are backkkkkk and we have maybe two chapters left and an epilogue. Thanks so much for sticking by my slow writing ass. Drop a comment and let me know what you thought!

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 018: Murphy's Law

You’re only against a handful of things. Of course, the one time you go to bed angry, shit hits the fan.

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters ** = smut chapters

author's note: 2/23/2024 — i don't want you guys to suffer too much, so the last two chapters will be released tomorrow 2/24/2024. i love you guys, thank you for tuning in ♥️

CW: i don't wanna spoil anything, so this whole chapter is a trigger warning. please be mindful of this before reading; ps thank you to @freckledjoes for letting me use this picture of barron/"steve"

word count: 1.3k words

♡

“I’m Natalia, who are you?”

“I’m...Shy Girl,” you narrow your eyes. “My boyfriend Eddie lives here.”

You've never been good at math. But it doesn't take putting 2 and 2 together to realize that — the car in Eddie's spot this morning — belongs to the Nancy look-alike in front of you.

And if you looked too fast, you would've thought that she WAS Nancy. But the strapless tube top, lettuce-trim booty shorts, and lacy black tights on a cold December morning rule out that possibility.

Your eyes trail over to Steve in the background, frantic and sweaty, hairy chest out on display as he shuffles around to find a shirt to throw on. You clear your throat, meeting Natalia’s blue eyes one more time before speaking again.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Oh no girl, you're fine!" the busty brunette chirps, when she realizes you're no longer a threat to her. "I was just heading out. I guess his roomie is going to be back any second now."

Doing your best to conceal your laughter, you step off to the side to allow Steve's booty call to get her things and scoot out the door. Steve watches awkwardly, leaning against the doorway and flashing Natalia a smile as he watches her get to her car safely.

You wait until she’s out of earshot to speak to him.

“Natalia.” you sing with a smirk. “Really?”

“Don’t make that face.”

“What face?”

“The one you’re making right now, Hargrove. Don’t start.”

Your eyes venture down to the faint bite marks on Steve’s neck. You turn around to look at the doppelgänger one last time, giving her a wave as she drives away.

“Not starting anything,” you insist. “I just think it’s funny.”

He knows what you’re thinking and it doesn’t help his case. Steve steps off to the side, inviting you in. After closing the door behind you, Harrington gestures towards the box in your hand.

“Whatchu got there?”

“Apology cupcakes for Eddie,” you explain. “I was a real bitch to him yesterday so I decided to bake him something to compensate.”

You spent all night guilt-baking, hoping to win Eddie back with the cute vanilla cupcakes topped with sad red frowns on them, followed by a homemade card that reads, "I'm sorry for pushing you against the wall". Expecting Steve to find it adorable, he offers you a rather confused reaction instead.

"…Eddie didn’t stay over last night?” he asks with a cocked brow.

Your heart sinks.

“No… I thought he came straight here after Wayne’s.”

“Well obviously he didn’t,” Steve says. “Hence why I had Nat spend the night.”

“Well do you think he’s at Dustin’s?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t spoken to the guy since yesterday morning.”

Something's off. Immediately rushing to the living room, you set the cupcakes down so you can call Wayne. It rings a few times but Eddie's uncle doesn’t pick up.

"Wayne's not picking up."

“That’s odd,” Steve gulps. “He almost always does.”

So you go to message Eddie. It's a simple text, Where are you? Straight to the point. To your complete shock, your usual blue text bubbles turn green. Eddie's phone is off. What the hell?

So you go to call him next. It doesn't hurt to try. But then your knees start to buckle when you're immediately directed to an automated voicemail box.

“We’re sorry. Your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please try again later.”

The room is as frostbitten as the air outside. Steve senses abrupt energy shift.

You scroll nervously through your phone. The next person to contact is Dustin. Outside of his friendship with Steve, he is the next person closest to Eddie. But Curly doesn't pick up either.

"Oh god," you feel the color rushing from your face.

"Hargrove, i-it's okay," Steve attempts. "He's probably with Jeff or Gareth or Grant or somethin', o-okay? Let's not jump to conclusions."

He rests a warm hand atop your arm, grounding you back down to earth. You turn to him with worry. He rubs your back to comfort you.

"Eddie would never do anything to hurt himself on purpose," Steve assures you. "I can promise you that much. Don't let your mind go there."

"Okay," you exhale.

"But he is stupid though," Steve adds. "So, to be safe, we should probably check the hospital. Or urgent care. Dude probably cucked his ankle again."

And with that, you two set off to Hawkins Memorial on the other side of town.

The icy roads seem to draw on for miles as Steve drives. And you had no desire to explore the vastness of Roane County, for as long as Eddie isn’t there waiting for you at whatever coordinate the wind blows you to next.

Tapping your feet anxiously on the floor, you click your phone on and off again to see whether or not a message from Eddie pops up. It’s the same outcome every time.

Steve’s gentle hand rests on top of your trembling ones once again. He gives you a soft pat.

“It’ll all be okay, Shy Girl,” he says to you. “Promise.”

Thankfully, hospital parking is almost immediate. Booking it to the emergency department now, you and Steve rush to get to the front of the line to speak to the receptionist. When it's finally your turn, she greets you rather stoically.

“Can I help you?”

Without violating HIPAA?

“I sure hope so,” you sigh. “This is a wellness check. Do you guys maybe have a Munson admitted here?”

“Munson…” the last name marinates on the lady’s tongue almost as if she’s familiar with it. You wouldn’t doubt it. Wayne’s a frequent flyer due to the cancer and Hawkins is quite literally a speck of dust on the map.

You try to help her. “Maybe an Eddie…Edward… or quite possibly a Wayne…”

“Quite possibly a Wayne?” the lukewarm secretary echos you.

“Yes!” you hiss urgently. “Or maybe a John Doe? A guy in his late twenties, early thirties... This person most likely came in yesterday afternoon, night, or maybe even this morning. He has brown hai-"

“Shy Girl…” comes a voice behind you.

It’s one of the Munsons you’re looking for. But to your surprise, not the one you were expecting.

"Wayne..." you breathe.

In front of you is Eddie's uncle, sitting in his wheelchair evidently a bawling mess. If he’s here and Eddie’s not, it can only mean one thing.

Your throat tightens and you struggle to speak. A thin veil of tears gloss over your eyes, your fingertips essentially frozen now as the sterile white building closes up around you.

“Wayne…” you say again. “What happened?”

His uncle sniffs, drawing out uneven breaths as he tries to calm down, nose an irritable red to match his glassy, sleep-deprived eyes.

“There’s... been an accident,” he chokes. “They T-boned him. Van is totaled.”

That van. That stupid fucking van you’ve told Eddie time and time again to get rid of.

“Wayne," Steve interrogates. "Who drove you here?”

“The Henderson boy.”

You can't take it anymore.

“Where is he?!” you demand. “And why aren’t you with him, Wayne?! WHERE IS EDDIE?”

“Doctors won’t tell me nothin'!” Wayne blubbers, his voice cracking like a helpless child. “But as someone whose second home is the hospital, I know what that means.”

The three of you take this time to cry. You instantly collapse into Steve's arms. He embraces you tight, dragging you off to the side so the people who were waiting behind you could be helped next.

Nothing matters anymore, you think to yourself. This is what you get for going to bed angry. The one time. The one time. And as the three of you start to gather yourselves again — rather slowly — Wayne speaks once more... uttering a belief that you've already come to terms with. Something that you already know.

“It’s not looking good for Eddie.”

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @mediocredreams @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay @xblueriddlex @maskofmirrors @babyloutattoo89 @queenofhawkins

oh yeah, song of the chapter is...

side note: s/o to DR. bridgit mendler, the irl barbie

[yellowbunnydreams]

Only Donors Left Alive [Vampire! Dave Miller x F! Reader] (Part 2)

~Glad that vampire Dave has made more people feral. He doesn't hang about so let's jump into a new chapter!~

Taglist: @ruh--roh-raggy @springlockedfool @brightcosmos

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI- Female Reader, legal age gap, older man/younger woman, graphic acts of violence, biting, knife-play, blood, blood-drinking/licking, unbalanced power dynamic, anaemia, possessive behaviour, partial nudity

You sighed as you made it to the landing of your floor and ran your fingers through your hair, the night-shift at the small town's diner was taking it's toll on you. Bleary eyes looked at the time on your phone and barely registered that it was three in the morning. Having to squeeze them shut before looking again to confirm the time. It had been the best paying position you could find locally, although you assumed some of that was hazard pay considering the disappearances that had occurred in Hurricane recently, but you were feeling exhausted. Whilst you weren't a morning person, you definitely were suffering not being able to sleep at your usual times.

"You look like shit." The raspy voice from behind you made you blink and turn your head, grunting slightly as you barely registered the gut twisting feeling that Dave always gave you as your body craved sleep and you could only think of a cool shower to ease off some of the already oppressive heat.

"Thanks Dave. Good morning to you too." You mumbled, hearing his footsteps approaching you as you fumbled with your keys. Yawning and feeling momentary confusion as you stared at you hands, keys absent from them before you blinked and looked up at Dave.

He was wearing his security uniform again, his hair even more tousled than you had seen it before, the bags under his blue eyes darker as he glanced at you. The usually lopsided, sharp smile gone and replaced with a furrowed brow as he expertly flicked through the ring of keys and found the correct one, letting you into the unit with your thanks being mumbled sleepily. A lazy smile creeping across his face as he leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Nights are really fucking you, and not in the fun way." Chuckling to himself as he handed you back your keys and watched you lean into the unit to place them on the little table in the hallway, where they usually lived.

"Yeah, I'm just too tired, and too hot. God I feel dizzy standing up sometimes." Laughing weakly before you felt Dave's cold, clammy hands against your cheeks and turning your head towards him. His eyes darting about your face as you felt your body relaxing slightly at the touch as much as it made your insides bristle at the touch. Slender fingers moving to just under your eye and pulling gently on the eyelid, finally focusing on you as he released the skin and took one of your hands, pressing on your nails and watching them with a growing concerned expression.

"Sugar, you're getting anaemic."

"No way, I'm fine. I just need-"

"No, you definitely are. I know one of myself when I see it." He chuckled again, a little more bitterly and in a way that made your tired brain want to reach out and comfort him. You could never figure out how to feel when Dave spoke to you, it was like your brain was being disconnected from part of itself, although you couldn't tell which part it was. "Let's get you inside, take a shower, you stink of people."

"Gee Dave, and you smell of roses." Rolling your eyes at him as you stepped into your apartment and felt a little sense of relief wash over you when you had the threshold between you, although you couldn't quite place why.

"I'll have you know I only save my best smelling stuff for special occasions."

"Like when, Christmas and your birthday?"

"Maybe yours too if you're lucky, pet." He chuckled, and you couldn't help but join in, shaking your head as you sighed and leaned against the cool wall. Sucking your teeth lightly before you grasped the door handle, looking at the sleazy, cock-sure smile on his gaunt, pale face. Watching it disappear behind your door before you heard his quiet footsteps moving off and the sound of his own door opening and closing left you with a strange discontent as you shuffled yourself off to bed.

You weren't sure what time you woke up next, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you padded into the kitchen wearing whatever you had thrown on for sleep. Hair messy and feeling groggy but at least more aware than you had before your shower and sleep. Passing the doorway into the main building and glancing over towards it naturally to see a little package sitting just inside the doorway, waiting to be collected.

You paused. You didn't remember bringing in any packages.

Cautiously, you made your way over to it and looked at the small tupper-ware container with a few items in it. Squatting down to pick it up, you gently rifled through the items and found there were iron supplements, some vitamin c tablets, a small bottle of orange juice and a bottle of melatonin. A paper note caught your attention as you picked it up gingerly between two fingers. Squinting as you tried to decipher the spidery handwriting that looked like it had been written in a hurry against a surface that wasn't quite flat to boot.

'Your door was unlocked, so I left it in the doorway. I thought we talked about locking out things that went bump in the night? Anyway, you need to take the iron twice daily, vitamin c in the morning and drink some orange juice. The melatonin should help with your transition to becoming nocturnal like me'

The smile spread on your face before you knew what was happening. Even if it was kinda creepy that Dave had opened your door, you found it sweet that he had left you things to help you out. After unscrewing the top of the iron and taking the box of things into the kitchen, popping the little terracotta coloured tablet into your mouth and swallowing it down with some orange juice, you had to admit after a few minutes that you felt a bit better. Maybe Dave had been right after all.

You'd have to thank him in some way, once you'd adjusted to your new routine and supplements.

Dave was shockingly elusive for most of the following week. You didn't even see a package arriving for him, and his mail piled up in his pigeon-hole. You began to find yourself growing more concerned for your strange landlord, wondering if you should go and check on him, you decided to wait until dusk. For some reason, that felt like the right time to try and summon the tall, gaunt man.

And so you found yourself at his door, noticing that the bulb in the little alcove around his door was out and shrouding it in darkness. You were dressed for your shift, a little earlier than usual but you figured that you needed time to make sure that Dave actually answered his door. Something whispered in the back of your mind that you should just leave it, but you raised your fist and knocked on the door. Listening intently to any sounds of movement inside.

The sudden cracking open of the door startled you, sending your pulse racing as you couldn't see anything inside, but the door closed again and you heard the sound of a chain being unlatched from the door. Opening it brought you a sense of relief as you saw Dave's scrawny build standing opposite you, opening your mouth to speak before you realised that he wasn't quite dressed.

He had a t-shirt on that looked like it hadn't been washed for a few days, a faded logo on it as you naturally glanced down his body and felt your cheeks heating up as your eyes naturally landed on what you had first assumed were shorts, but you quickly realised they were Dave's boxers, complete with little hearts printed all over them. You made some tiny squeak as you diverted your attention to his feet, feeling a little laugh bubbling up in your throat as you realised that the left one had a hole over the big toe, but it was quickly silenced in confusion as you realised that they were in fact Christmas socks. You mentally had to re-affirm to yourself that it was August as you blinked and stared at them, red and green stripes complete with the tiny, gaudy bells at the top.

"I must still be dreaming, finding such a present wrapped up on my doorstep." The raspy voice sounded gravellier than usual, snapping you out of your shock at his half-dressed state and looking up into his face. Watching Dave rub his eyes with the heel of his palm, his greasy dark hair messy and tousled, sticking up at various angles like he had just dragged himself from bed.

"Good evening Dave." You laughed softly as he grunted, eyes darting about as he blinked and clearly tried to focus. Yawning and developing that lazy, crooked smirk that made your chest tighten and stomach flip with uncertainty. "You...uh...appear to be slightly undressed...and in Christmas socks?"

"My evening is certainly off to a good start with you at my door, sugar." The lazy smile grew wider as his eyes fixated on you, seeming to take their time sleazily rolling over you and your work uniform like he was drinking in every detail. Your arms naturally raising up to cover across your stomach self-conciously.

"That doesn't answer the question about the socks."

"You never wear socks out of season?"

"They have a hole in them."

"Generally useful for putting my feet into, yes." That cocky smile as he tipped his head and leaned against his doorframe made you roll your eyes and sigh dramatically. "Any more questions, darling? I saw the little hearts in your eyes whilst you were admiring something else covered in hearts..." Tongue running over his teeth and chuckling as you visibly cringed back and your lip curled up in distaste even as your cheeks flushed.

"Says the man who answered his door in his boxers."

"Says the woman who was staring at me through them for longer than necessary."

"You caught me off guard."

"You were the one who knocked sugar, you're in my domain now." Dave's dark chuckle sent a few hairs on the back of your neck on end, feeling your pulse racing slightly as something in the way he said it made the words feel a little threatening to your primal brain.

Sighing, you knew you weren't going to get anywhere with him, and you knew you shouldn't have been worried about your sleazy landlord, especially as his gaze seemed to linger on your neck, just above the collar of your polo-shirt. Running your fingers over your hair and messing it up slightly, Dave's eyes resuming their usual darting as he seemed to scan the air behind you. Shrugging your shoulders as you shoved your hands into your pockets.

"Look, Dave, I just came to check you were alright. You haven't collected your mail in a few days and I wanted to make sure you hadn't fallen and died in the shower or something." Dave smirked at you, blue eyes returning to yours as you felt your heart pounding faster in your chest. Something behind his intense focus was something that made your brain scream to move away from him. You ignored it, brushing it off as Dave's usual weirdness.

"I'm touched by your concern, sugar. You look much better by the way. Been taking iron?"

"Yeah, thanks for the little gift basket by the way. Is there anything I can get you in return?"

"Oh it'll repay itself, don't you worry pet," his tongue running over his teeth again before he took a sharp, deep breath in. His nostrils flaring slightly as he stepped towards you, making you take a step back. "I'll be by at some point to collect the rent. You should get to work, shame you're not on the menu....there...."

The comment made you cringe again and wonder why he stipulated 'there', but before you could ask or answer. The gaunt man brought a white ceramic mug to his lips, one that you hadn't even noticed him holding, downing the contents and pulling a face like whatever was inside had been in distaste. You wondered if it was tea that had gone cold or something before he closed the door on you. Leaving you stood in his dark doorway and wondering what on earth you had just talked about with your landlord.

You headed to work, feeling like eyes were lingering on your back as you bounced down the stairs and out into the growing night air. Crickets and other bugs forming their dusk-song as you made the subconscious decision to stick to well-lit areas.

Knocking on your door woke you up on your day off from the diner. Grumbling as the knock grew a little more insistent and you pulled yourself from your couch where you had fallen asleep watching TV. The knock occured again.

"Jesus fucking Christ! Pack it in! I'm coming." Sighing as you rubbed your hand over your face and padded over to the door, dressed in sweatpants and t-shirt as you pulled open the door admittedly a little viciously. Scowl on your face as you blinked at the chest in front of you, tilting your head up slightly to see Dave's lazy smile spreading across his sallow face.

"Now now sugar, I've told you that you can always scream my name." Your scowl deepened as you tried to process what Miller wanted, wondering why he was knocking on your door well past midnight on your days off. The dull buzz of unease was ignored as you crossed your arms across your stomach.

"What do you fucking want Dave? I was asleep." You sighed, irritated as you seriously contemplated moving for a moment as you watched the lanky man hold up a mug with something printed on it that you took a moment to decipher in your half-awake state. 'Abnormally large dick'. You mentally sighed, of course Dave would have a mug that said something like that.

"I need to borrow a cup of blood." He smiled, making you pause and blink as you laughed a little.

"Sorry, it sounded for a moment like you said 'blood'" Chuckling as you blinked the sleep from your eyes, watching him tilt his head to one side and hum like he was contemplating something.

"Nope. That is what I said."

Hair began to stand up on the back of your neck, feeling your half-aware state becoming more lucid as all those uneasy feelings piled back onto you all at once. Swallowing thickly, you laughed, your knuckles turning white on the edge of the door.

"I...Dave what the actual FUCK? I'm not giving you anything, I'm calling the cops." Realising only after you said it that you didn't have your phone on you and you would have to leave Dave at your door. His smile falling and his expression serious as he set his face into a grim expression.

"Wow, how very undeadist of you, I feel offended you would even say that. I'll have to put your rent up by ten dollars for emotional damages."

"WHAT?!"

"I have been emotionally compromised and I demand satisfaction." Shaking the mug at you, still with that serious expression as you realised that he was totally serious. No wonder the rent was cheap, you thought to yourself, they didn't disclose that the landlord was fucking insane.

"Come on," he cooed your name, raising a thin eyebrow at you. "just a quick little slice to that juicy vein in your left wrist and we're both happy." Your blood felt like it was running cold in your veins, heart pounding wildly in your chest as you tried to think of any reason to stall him so you could get your phone and call for help.

"And why would I be happy, Dave?"

"I'll reduce your rent for repairing your cold-hearted emotional damage by supporting my condition, of course." That lazy smile creeping back onto his face as he leaned against your door-frame, your mind racing at a million miles an hour as you tried to think of anything. If Dave really believed he was a vampire, and watching the way his eyes ferally flickered around, the mild tremor in his hand, the unkemptness of his appearance, then you tried to dredge up any knowledge you had of the supernatural to play against him.

"Well... I feel like I could just...not? If you're really a vampire, you can't come in without permission."

"Oh sugar, you think I didn't think of that? It's in your contract, silly goose, I can come in any time I like." The almost chipper tone with which he said it made your stomach turn uneasily. Had he let himself into your apartment before? He must have done, he'd left you gifts. Something whispered in the back of your mind that it was making sure the cattle were healthy.

"Sugar, you're so lucky I'm asking nicely." His eyes focused on yours with that ensnaring intensity that made you feel hot and cold at the same time. They looked dark, like there was nothing alive behind them except something that really wanted to see what colour crimson lived inside you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you felt your skin crawling into goosebumps, swearing you heard a low growl under that familiar rasp. His long, thin fingers curled around the edge of the door and pressed it open all the way even as you pressed against it to try and resist it.

Once the door was wide, Dave took a deliberate step inside, it was in some form of breathless horror that your mind realised that he was still dressed the same as earlier. You were about to be killed by a man in fucking Christmas socks with bells on and heart-boxers.

Before you could even think about running, Dave's thin arm wrapped around your waist and hoisted you over his shoulder in a semi-fluid movement. Making you gasp as you held onto his t-shirt, the sudden movement making your head spin as he simply turned and headed further into your apartment, dumping you unceremoniously onto the couch. Your heart pounding as he dissapeared and you heard the sound of the door locking before you lost track of where he was again. The tall, lanky figure that was shockingly strong for his build reappearing as he sat opposite you ontop of your sturdy coffee table, holding one of the knives from your kitchen block.

"Now, this one is nice and sharp, so you won't have to cut deep. In fact, please don't, I don't want to lose such a good tenant this way." The way he spoke was so natural, but you were just left with dread and unease as your fingers automatically wrapped around the black handle.

"Why?"

"Why? Sugar, we'll have time for 'why' after you've been a good neighbour." There was a spark of guilt that wormed it's way into your mind, making you wonder if you were really being unreasonable. The knife shifted in your hand, raising it slightly before common sense took ahold again and you lowered it, much to Dave's mild scowl of disapproval. "Come on, don't be a baby, it's just a little cut. You've probably done worse cutting vegetables for dinner, and this is my dinner."

"I can't..I can't.."

Dave tutted and rolled his eyes, which would have made you laugh given the absurdity of the situation if your mind wasn't reeling with the possibility that he really might be what he claimed to be. Holding out his slender hand, he raised a dark eyebrow at you.

"May I?"

Nodding, he took the knife from you and laid your arm across his knee, scowling as he looked for a sensible place to put his mug before holding it between his bruised, boney looking knees. Carefully running the knife against your skin without breaking it and making you shiver, watching the predatory and precise way he moved that seemed so out of place on Dave's wiry, tired body.

You were so focused on him that you barely noticed the bite of metal into your flesh. Your eyes darting wildly as you clocked that your arm felt cold suddenly, watching with wide eyes as crimson spilt over your skin and began a somewhat steady stream into his mug, splashing over parts of his pale thigh that were exposed by the way he was sitting. Breathing harder and faster as adrenaline kicked in, Dave looking up and giving you that same coy, lazy smile that he always did as he held onto your wrist. Swearing slightly as you moved and you spilt some of yourself onto your floor, Dave frowned and mopped it up with his sock whilst trying to hold you still.

You brain decided it couldn't handle any more as he lifted your arm and your felt his cold, wet tongue drag up the skin and chase any rivulets that had escaped, and mercifully; everything went black as you passed out.

[ashensgrotto]

Never Had a Friend (like Me) - Part 1

Original art piece by pfbatakopd on twitter (Used only for Header. Do NOT REPOST ORIGINAL ART)

Part 1 (You Are Here) Part 2 Part 3

YandereSoulmate! AU:

Part 1 (Am I Feeling Love?)

Part 2 (Protective)

Part 3A & Part 3B (Poor Unfortunate Souls)

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto X F!Reader

Word Count: 9,105

Synopsis: A chance for redemption comes in the form of a wish…

Author’s Notes: Ok, here we go. I received an anonymous message in my inbox for the next part of the Yandere!Soulmate series and I was actually going to work on it - but with the arrival of GloMas, working on the next part of ‘Raison D’être,’ wanting to finish “Weren’t You Aware, Angelfish?”, AND the holidays, time got away from me and I forgot about Scarabia’s segment for a short while. 

However, because you all seem to enjoy this and want to know if the tako has redeemed himself - I figured I would work to get this part done. Now, warning - Pompefiore’s part is going to take a bit of time to complete because I will have to wiggle my way through my memory bank and replay a few parts of it (which is approx 76 chapters in length for those players who haven’t made it that far into the game yet) since I’m working so deep into Ignihyde’s chapter right now (which is a doozy - I’m still in chapter 67-tower 1, oof help).

This one is also going to be split into three parts - I promise it will not be a long wait for the second & third parts as this is my Christmas gift to all of my readers <3

Thank you all for your continued support!

Warnings are as follows: yandere behaviors, manipulation, imprisonment, & hypnosis

***

I’m in the mood, to help you dude

You ain’t never had a friend like me.

***

It had been weeks since the last overblot incident… and just as long since Azul last saw you.

He sat in his office, looking over paperwork for the last quarter and rubbing his brow with worry.

The profits had started to steadily decrease following his overblot, causing the Monstro Lounge to slowly suffer the loss, like an infection slowly eating away a mer’s life. He had no one really to blame but himself for that… Azul had lost control, let his obsession get out of hand and had hurt the people closest to him.

Jade… Floyd… you.

Azul let out another large sigh and set the report down, taking his glasses off and rubbing his face. He had considered going back to the Coral Sea for holiday, but was unable to due to two reasons; one, the ice floes would’ve made the journey too dangerous to travel alone - especially since Jade and Floyd had already prepared to stay at NRC for the holidays, and two… you were still here.

Not in Octavinelle where Azul had wanted you to be, but in a rundown shack on the school property.

The building had been a dorm, once upon a time, but ghosts had moved in and scared the students to the point that the building was deemed ‘unsafe.’ However, with your charms and personality, the ghosts were easily persuaded and welcomed you in with open arms - though Azul had a sneaky suspicion that both the headwardens of Savanaclaw and Heartslabyul had likely persuaded the otherworldly spirits in exchange for access to both of their dorms. Regardless, with you no longer in Octavinelle and now at the mercy of the headmage’s “generous” nature, Azul could only watch from the shadows as you now tended to the school property in a janitorial role.

Azul leaned back in his chair, his thoughts plagued by you before an obnoxious ringing noise filled the office.

He grumbled, picking the phone up, “Monstor Lounge, this is Azul speaking.”

“Hello baby, how are you?” the familiar voice of his mother on the other end made Azul jump in surprise.

“Mother,” Azul coughed, “Hello - I apologize I hadn’t had a chance to call you. We’ve been busy lately.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” his mother answered, “It’s been busy here too… but everything’s been calming down since the ice floes came - though I was surprised to see your letter that you were considering coming home for the holidays.”

‘Shit…’ Azul had completely forgotten about that - when (Y/N) had lived in the Octavinelle at the beginning of the year, Azul had entertained the idea of potentially inviting her to his home for the holiday, slowly and suringly getting her accustomed to the idea of staying with him - although it would prove to be a difficult task, especially now.

“However, I’m assuming that you changed plans at the last minute,” his mother continued.

“Y-yes, I was indeed planning on coming… however, Jade and Floyd both decided to stay behind so I chose to stay as well,” Azul answered, the lie slipping easily off his silver tongue, “Someone has to keep those two in line, after all.”

His mother snickered, “Don’t be saying that in front of their father though. Sevens knows what the moray will do if you say anything like that.”

Azul nodded, clearing his throat, “Um, well… What's going on with you, then? The restaurant still alright? How’s Finn?”

“Finn’s well - busy as always,” his mother answered, “Business has been getting better - hired several new staff members as well… a few sweet mers around your age, Zully.”

Azul rolled his eyes, “Mother… we’ve had this talk. I’m… not interested.”

“You might not be, but it will happen one day,” his mother’s voice was calm and soothing before she sighed on the end of the phone, “However… I have a sneaky feeling that you’re still upset about what I told you all those years ago.”

Azul bit his lip, answering, “Of course not… Soulmates? That’s ridiculous.”

“Azul…” his mother’s voice turned into a scolding tone, “There are plenty of fish out there - I know you’re still pretty young to be thinking about it, considering a mer’s life is longer than most, but shorter than a fae’s… but I only want you to be happy.”

“I am, mother,” Azul tried to smile, “I’m content where I am - I’ve gotten stronger, my business is growing, and… I’ve learned so much.”

“Perhaps, but allow me to give you a little insight - it’s something I learned long ago,” his mother prompted, “Happiness, though may be defined as ‘the state of joy or contentment,’ is typically filled by three main parts of life; success, dedication, and personal. Dedication and success go hand in hand with each other - if you work hard and are dedicated, you achieve success - even if the tasks prove to be difficult to the point that you might fail over and over again. Personal can mean time for yourself - spending time with your hobbies or doing what you love… spending time with those you care about even.”

Azul listened to his mother’s words, thinking.

“I know that you are successful and you’re dedicated,” his mother continued, “But you won’t achieve happiness if you just focus on those two things - take time for yourself now and again, look for stronger connections within your friendships… and look for someone that will want to support you and you support them.”

“I… I think I understand…” Azul answered, “I’ll… take your words into consideration.”

“I hope so - your grandmother taught me that when I was still a little octo fry many years ago,” his mother answered, a teasing tone caught in her voice.

Azul couldn’t help but smile, “Yes… Nanna always did know what was best.”

“Yes, she did, still does even… Well, I should probably let you go, then - you have a lot of stuff going on there,” his mother let out a sigh, “Just remember… I love you, baby. Merry Christmas.”

“I love you too… momma. Merry Christmas and I’ll see you at the end of the year.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Zully. Stay safe.”

Azul smiled and hung the phone up, sitting back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling. 

“Finding that so-called ‘other half’ is like - well - like the story of the mermaid princess and her longing to be with a human. It’s a rare occurrence that only happens once in a millennium if not longer. Anyone can be happy with or without their soulmate, Azul. There’s no reason you should go to such lengths to be with someone who may not even exist…”

Azul shook his head at the memory of that day years ago - he wanted to forget… but sevens knows he couldn’t forget you.

A sudden loud crash had Azul bolting upright, his features twisting in annoyance. As far as he knew, the only ones in the lounge were Jade and Floyd… which could only mean one thing. 

Trouble.

“Those two morons…” Azul gritted his teeth, standing from his chair, “If I catch the lounge in a disarray again…”

He grabbed his jacket, tossing it over his shoulders, before placing his hat upon his head, the magestone pen morphing into the headwarden’s silver octopus topped cane. He hurried from his office and headed into the lounge.

Entering the lounge, Azul’s eyes widened at the sight.

The lounge was damaged - several tables and chairs were overturned, marred by huge cracks and scratches while lamps lay in pieces on the floor, the glass orbs scattered into a thousand fragments on the carpeted flooring and the magestones cracked and shattered as well. Azul’s eyes narrowed on Jade and Floyd’s figures, but realized they weren’t alone after all. Several students from the Scarabia dorm were there as well, their wands out and at the ready - pointing them at Jade and Floyd, who seemed to be guarding something on the floor.

Azul’s eyes widened in surprise at seeing Kalim’s magic carpet as well as Grim hiding behind the remaining two members of Octavinelle - and they weren’t alone.

You were there as well, cowering behind Jade and Floyd’s intimidating heights as the Scarabia students glared daggers at you.

“There’s no escape for you now, thieves!” 

“Surrender quietly!”

“Mrow?!” Grim held his paws up, “You chased us all the way here?! You guys are seriously stubborn, you know that?”

Azul remained quiet for a moment, his eyes shifting to look you over - noticing how you had one arm close to your body. Were you hurt?

Azul’s eyes narrowed as he approached, his shoes echoing in the lounge as his stern voice addressed the situation, “What is all the commotion at this late hour?”

The students turned to look at Azul, one of them speaking quietly, “Y-you’re… Azul Ashengrotto, the housewarden of Octavinelle!”

“Would you care to explain what is going on?” Azul asked calmly, moving to stand in front of you with Jade and Floyd behind him.

“It’s none of Octavinelle’s business,” another student tsked, “Just hand over the two of them quietly.”

Azul crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head as he eyed you and Grim out of the corner of his eye, “Now that I’m looking closer at it - it appears to be (Y/N) and Grim sprawled out on our floor, quivering and covered in dust. Heh - I almost thought they were a pair of dust cloths.”

“Azul, please,” Azul met your gaze, “save us with your spirit of benevolence.”

“Hmm…” Azul turned back to the group of Scarabia before him.

“If you refuse to hand them over, you’ll be blamed for their wrongdoings as well,” the student warned.

“Hey - are ya yankin’ my tail here?!” Floyd’s eyes widened dangerously, his teeth peering out from behind his lips, “Who do ya think yer talkin’ to?!”

“No fighting of any kind is permitted in the Monstro Lounge,” Azul kept his arms crossed over his chest, his focus reshifting to address the situation at hand, “This is a place for gentlemen.”

“What was that? Are you interfering?” one of the students asked, “Fine, we’ll just do this the hard way.”

“Hmph, I think it’s time we asked these ill-mannered patrons to leave,” Azul growled, clicking his tongue in annoyance, “Jade. Floyd. Show them the door.”

The eel twins grinned as they moved quickly, going after the Scarabia students like the set of predators that they were. Azul was quick to move and cover (Y/N), his overcoat covering your form to protect you from the fighting, “Don’t look, my dear, I do not wish for you to see such behavior.”

“Azul - I’ve seen worse,” your voice rattled him to the core as he huffed.

“I... don’t need the reminder.”

It didn’t take long for the Scarabia students to fall back, Jade and Floyd repocketing their pens.

“Go on an’ scatter, ya bunch of minnows!” Floyd laughed eagerly.

“We’ll be eagerly awaiting your next visit to our lounge,” Jade smiled.

As the last of the students disappeared, Grim jumped for joy, “Mya-haha! We did it! You see that?! That’s what you get, you bunch of jerks!”

“We, Grim? I think you mean they - Floyd and Jade - did it,” you ask before shaking your head and turning toward the trio, “Thank you, all three of you - I don’t want to think what they would’ve done if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“Thanks are unneeded, my dear,” Azul answered, standing and offering his hand, “However, I’m afraid we’ll have to bill you for repair fees for the tables and chairs - not to mention the lamps and assorted dishwear that was damaged in that fight. Not to mention our own labor rates, since we were dragged into this affair.”

“WHAT?! You’re charging us for that?!” Grim asked, throwing his paws up in the air.

“Surely it’s a small price to pay for us rescuing the both of you from the inky depths of peril? After all, (Y/N) did ask for my spirit of benevolence.”

“Azul, please,” you asked quietly, “There’s a reason that the Scarabia students were after us.”

“I’m assuming it has something to do with Kalim’s magic carpet.”

“... Not really,” you answer, “We were being held hostage.”

Azul frowned, not liking the word one bit, “Explain, (Y/N).”

***

Azul muddled over what you had just told him, Grim piping up every so often to include details about the Scarabia situation to add more information as the cunning octopus thought deeply. As Azul thought, his eyes kept shifting to you, his thoughts going deeper into self-loathing; if you had remained in Octavinelle, none of this would have happened - you would’ve been safe, not having to walk to an oasis down and back again every morning before even eating, or sleeping in a closet under lock and key, or even doing battles with other students of magic when you couldn’t even cast a spell yourself.

His poor little angelfish…

Azul’s eyes widened, an idea appearing in his mind… a chance of a lifetime had just been given to him and he would be damned to let it go to waste.

A knowning smile spread across his features, “...It sounds like we should go to their aid.”

“Myra?! Did you hit your head or something when I wasn’t looking?!” Grim asked.

“Of course not!” Azul feigned harm, lifting his gloved hand to his chest, “I’ll have you know, my dear Grimmy, that the last incident forced me to reflect on my greed. I came out a changed man!”

“Oh, really?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest, “Care to explain?”

“I decided to contribute to the school as a whole, in honor of the Sea Witch’s spirit of benevolence,” Azul explained, his features turning coy, “It’s common knowledge that the housewardens are typically the ones their students go to in times of need or struggle - even the vice wardens are responsible for that as well. However, the power has to be shared equally between both the house and vice wardens - and Scarabia’s all over the place. It’s faced with a crisis now and my own classmate is in need of help - I can hardly ignore them in their time of need.”

You watched Jade and Floyd give each other knowing smiles before the twins looked at Azul, Jade asking, “What is the plan?”

“Here’s my idea,” Azul proposed, “The five of us head to Scarabia tomorrow - we’ll go under the guise that we are returning Kalim’s carpet as well as offering assistance with the dorm’s studies, this will ensure our stay especially since Octavinelle did overwhelmingly well on their finals before break…”

“No thanks to your study guides,” Grim huffed.

“Grim,” You warned.

Azul coughed and continued, “Once we’ve secured our spot within Scarabia, we’ll be able to do a bit of sneaking around to figure out what’s really going on.”

“And I’m assuming you have an idea on how to do so?” Jade asked.

“Let’s get to that point before we make any rash decisions,” Azul answered.

“I think that is a wonderful idea,” you agreed.

“(Y/N)?! Are you crazy?!” Grim asked, “We can’t go back there!”

“Grim, we really have no other options,” you turned to the feline demon, “We’ve tried contacting the Headmage, the other students can’t get into the school because the dark mirror is closed off, we have no way of contacting Riddle or Leona either… Azul’s plan is the best we have right now. Personally, I’d rather not go back, but with the way things are looking for Kalim…”

“You’re afraid there’s going to be another overblot, aren’t you, pearl?” Jade asked.

Azul blinked, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Yes, Kalim’s behavior was erratic, but it couldn’t be enough for the headwarden to go into an overblot… would it?

“I’m afraid so,” you admit, looking over at Azul, “I noticed that… when things got a little out of control, someone overblotted. I can’t bare to see another student go through that, much less a housewarden again. I’d like to try and prevent it from happening again, if possible.”

Azul nodded, “No worries, angelfish - I’ll make sure mine was the last one you saw.”

You give the housewarden a small smile of relief - thankful that he seemed to understand.

Azul remembered during his blot how the memories of his childhood came forward; the root cause of his pain and suffering that eventually became his thirst for power that festered and grew until it snapped - and you had seen it all. Whatever this strange magical gift was and how you received it, Azul was certain that it was your own form of unique magic - one that was so powerful that it may even make Malleus Draconia afraid if he knew about it; the power to look into one’s past and see everything that shaped them into who they eventually became was strong powerful magic indeed - but, of course, Azul didn’t want anyone else to know about it, considering he was victim number three to the overblot crisis that appeared to be happening this year.

Azul reaches out, offering his hand to you, “(Y/N), as headwarden of Octavinelle - allow myself and Jade and Floyd to help you and Grim solve the mystery of Kalim’s strange behavior. I’m certain the five of us plus Jamil will be able to ease Kalim’s troubles and bring back the peace Scarabia so desperately needs. Do we have a deal?”

You look at his hand, the memory of the first day you met him and the day you lost your legs both playing in your mind - but what choice did you have? You look at him and take his hand, squeezing it.

“Promise - this will make us even?”

“Indeed. I promise.”

[flowerandblood]

Glass Cuts Deepest (12)

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ warnings: oral sex, fingering, smut, kissing, fluff, angst, trauma, mention of rape, indecent student-teacher relationship ]

[ description: A female painting student is finally able to choose the specialisation she has dreamt of - stained glass. She wants to become a student of the best specialist in this field, but he, for some reason, refuses to accept female students into his workshop. She finds out that he once slapped a female student of one of the other professors. Nevertheless, she makes an attempt to find out what happened then and to convince him to teach her. Slow burn, sexual tension, dark, agressive Aemond, great childhood traumas. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He fully realised how involved he already was in this relationship when he had to fall asleep alone in his bedroom after he returned home. His flat had never seemed so empty, so cold, so alien to him before − he realised that it didn't even have anyone's photos in it, no memorabilia − it was a place where he existed between work and nothing else.

He tried to do what he always did, made himself a cup of tea and turned on the TV to watch the news, read a book on catacomb painting he'd borrowed from Cregan, but still all he did, all he focused on, was glancing at his phone screen.

She hadn't texted him, nor had he texted her even though they had each other's phone numbers.

He himself didn't know how he felt about it, at the same time raging with desperation, opening the new message window several times to write her anything, to apologise for the scene he had done to her the day before or to wish her a good night, but each time he deleted everything, throwing the phone somewhere in a corner, heartbroken.

Perhaps she needed time to herself to think things through.

He had cornered her and not given her time to think, and she might not have really wanted that.

She might not have wanted to take on the kind of baggage he was carrying.

He went to bed with this thought and turned off the lamp, but he felt restless and uncomfortable. He got up twice and checked that the front door was locked, just in case, and then went back and laid under his duvet, but the feeling remained in him.

The feeling that something was going to happen, that he would hear the sound of the door opening, as it did then, and see her on the doorstep.

He shuddered at the thought, clenching his eyes shut, dreaming only of Wright calling him, of telling him she missed him and wanted to see him, of coming to him and falling asleep beside him, making him feel safe.

She didn't call and he wriggled through the night, panicked, sad and tired. He gave up at four in the morning and took a shower, made himself a quick coffee in a thermos and drove to the university, deciding that he would rather use this time in some meaningful way.

He turned on all the lights and took a sheet of clear glass from his compartment, intending to cut it for his personal project, wanting to create a stained glass window for himself with Adam and Eve motif.

He wished to model himself on Dürer's copperplate, but changing it a little, softening the proportions of the figures, painting them in a slightly more mannerist form. He had no intention of giving the figures their faces, of course, however he found the work itself meaningful.

He shuddered when he heard someone come inside, despite the fact that there was still an hour left before classes started, and froze completely when he saw her standing in the aisle.

"Good morning." She said softly, warmth and happiness in her eyes at the sight of him from which he felt heat in his chest − he couldn't stop the shy smile that forced itself onto his lips.

He couldn't stop himself from kissing her as soon as she let him get close.

He found to his despair that her scent was enough to make him completely hard and he suffered through the day, watching her from the sidelines, witnessing the way she talked to her year mates, being able to get close to anyone but him.

As he spoke and noticed her gaze, he would lose the thread and have to quickly return his thoughts to what he had just talked about, embarrassed and ashamed that he had acted like a child.

The only thing that kept him sane was that she had agreed to come to him in the evening.

Despite the fact that he usually worked after hours, that afternoon he returned to his flat immediately after class, doing his shopping beforehand, recognising that he had to host her somehow and prepare something to eat.

He was also embarrassed to find that he should change the bedding for a clean one.

While doing this, all he could think about was what they were going to do on his bed when she came to him and he had a feeling his cock would just explode with arousal.

He didn't want to touch himself before she came though; he wanted to be desperate and on the edge of his endurance − he hoped that this would make him finally get over himself, that the lust would completely stupefy him and make him think of nothing else but fulfilment.

When at last she knocked on his door, when at last she stood on his threshold he felt apprehensive, realising that he had never invited anyone there before.

He let her in without a word, feeling his throat tighten. She was wearing a dress and nice long, white socks that he couldn't stop looking at, thinking only of the fact that he wanted to press her against the wall and slip his hand under her underwear, wondering if she was in the same state as him.

"If there's something wrong, I'll change. I took my things." Her worried voice snapped him out of his reverie and he looked at her surprised, not understanding what she was talking about, only realising after a moment that she thought he was looking at her like this because he found her outfit inappropriate.

"What? No, no. Come in. Are you hungry? I'm just heating up dinner." He said embarrassed at the direction his thoughts were running off in, deciding that she should at least eat something before he touched her, heading towards the kitchenette.

"Yeah, I'd love to." She said softly as she followed him, sitting down on the other side of the kitchen counter, looking intently at what he was doing.

He felt strangely tense; he'd never seen another human being in this space, much less a woman − he recognised that he hadn't spoken to one in so many years that he wasn't even sure how he should refer to her, not wanting to come across as a buffoon or a simpleton.

He knew he hadn't shown his best side to her before and he wanted to change that, but it only made him stress even more and say very little.

He almost choked, pulled out of his reverie when he heard her question while they ate.

"Where am I going to sleep?"

He looked at her in shock, thinking quickly about what he should answer, recognising that if he told her he wanted her to sleep in his bed it would immediately give away what he desired, perhaps putting her in an awkward position. He decided to get out of it somehow.

"…it's up to you. I can sleep on the couch." He said cautiously, watching her reaction, wanting to make sure she didn't think he was just a pervert who was only hoping for his student's young body to make his night more pleasant.

She meant so much more to him.

"What if I don't want you to sleep on the couch?" She asked quietly, looking up at him with her big, warm eyes.

God.

He reached quickly for his wine glass, taking a sip from it, feeling her question in his trousers. He set it down, looking at her intensely, wondering if she really wanted an answer to that question or was just teasing him.

Then we'll fuck, he thought.

"Will you show me your bedroom?" She asked softly, lightly, non-committally, and he swallowed loudly, wondering if she was doing it on purpose or if in her mind it was really just an innocent question that wasn't going to lead to anything more.

"Are you sure you want this?" He asked carefully, looking at her face, and she nodded. He pressed his lips together, gazing at her bare shoulders, the shape of her breasts outlining under her dress, and thought he couldn't take it anymore.

He stood up and glanced at her, waiting for her to move behind him.

He led her to one of the rooms to which the door was on the corridor and stepped inside, lighting the lamp standing by his bedside table, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, feeling his heart pounding hard, his hands clenched into fists.

He felt his manhood pulsate painfully hard in his trousers as she unhurriedly laid on his bed with her stomach down, placing her cheek on his pillow, playing with the fabric of his sheets, not even looking at him. He looked down at her long legs and swallowed loudly, thinking that if he didn't touch her soon he would probably die.

He circled his bed, climbing onto it and kneeling behind her, having her legs between his thighs. He lifted the material of her dress up and exposed to him the bare, glistening skin of her buttocks, which were framed by pretty white lace panties. He placed his large hand on one of them and stroked it, feeling how soft and firm her skin was, her whole body tensing under his touch.

There was no turning back now, he thought.

He'd been thinking about it all night.

About how he wanted to do this.

He placed one hand next to her head while sliding the other across her stomach and squeezed her with his body, sighing along with her as he pressed his length hidden under the material of his trousers between her buttocks, rubbing against her, feeling a wonderful pulsing, his free hand brushing away her hair, kissing her neck with his warm lips.

They both drew in a loud breath as his hand under her belly slid lower, pulling up her dress, picking at the material of her panties, slipping his fingers underneath. He heard her moan helplessly, writhing beneath him as he touched her moisture, her slick folds − he involuntarily licked his lower lip, feeling how hard he was.

"− have you been this wet since you came in here? − or maybe since this morning? −" He gasped delightedly, trailing his lips along her soft skin, listening to her accelerated, erratic breathing, rubbing with the movements of his hips against her buttocks, making shivers come over him, her wonderful scent filling his nostrils.

"− it's your fault, Professor −" She mumbled regretfully, and he felt her words between his thighs, his cock pulsed hard when she called him that, shamelessly using his academic title in such a situation − his fingers began to massage her puffy clit in circular, sure motions, making her moans of pleasure grow louder and louder.

"− mine? − because I take care of my student's needs like any good Professor in my position? −" He breathed out in her ear and smirked mischievously feeling how his strokes were accompanied by a sticky click of her wetness, both of them panting and moaning, her thighs involuntarily parting beneath him, allowing him better access.

"− I need this − please −" She mumbled with difficulty, clenching her hands on the fabric of his pillow. He groaned low, rubbing himself against her, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen at the thought of what he wanted to do.

"− I know −" He hummed, then slid the tip of his middle finger gently inside her − her walls were hot, fleshy and sticky, tight, resisting him with his every gentle push. He felt a powerful shudder pass through her, she cried out beneath him in pleasure, parting her lips, her body trembling under him, sucking his finger deep inside her.

"− shhh −" He hushed her, not letting her move, delighted that she was at his mercy, that he was touching her in such a way and it felt wonderful, not a trace of discomfort or bad memories in his mind.

"− please − ah − please − please −" She mewled pleadingly; he thought with tenderness that she was on the verge of orgasm, unable to get anything more out of herself, and he merely teased her, sliding his finger in and out of her, returning to her clit again after a while, not giving her what she needed.

"− please, what? − don't be disrespectful, title me properly −" He growled warningly, recognising that she had wanted this herself − she had wanted to play like this and now she had to suffer the consequences.

He heard her moan loudly at his words, her thighs trembling under his hand, his fingers all sticky from her moisture massaging her with a loud, lewd click.

"− please, Professor − please, I've been waiting for this all day −" She mumbled, and he chuckled low, taking pity on her at last, seeing the state she was in, and slid his whole finger inside her, feeling how wonderfully hot and rough she was inside, her muscles clenched against him greedily.

He heard her gasp loudly, pressing her face against his pillow, her hips struggling to rock into the rhythm with his movements as he kissed her neck, her jaw, her cheek, her temple.

"− soaking wet for her Professor − fuck − you're a very dedicated student, aren't you? −" He gasped in delight, literally fucking her with his finger, searching for the spongy bud inside her that he had read so much about on the internet, knowing that it should be somewhere above her entrance. He realised that he had found it between her slick muscles when he heard her loud, surprised moan of pleasure, her lips parted wide, her eyes clenched as if in surprise and disbelief.

"− yes − God − yes, yes, please! −" She cried out pathetically, and a few of his movements were enough for her to cum on his fingers, her warm moisture spilling over his hand.

"− fuck − what a little mess you are −" He muttered with delight at her state, feeling how hard she came, fascinated with what he could do with her.

He groaned lowly feeling that he couldn't take it any more, that after what he had seen and felt he needed to finally relieve himself with his hand.

"− don't move − okay? −" He asked quickly, panting loudly along with her, lifting himself up and resting his body weight on his knees. He unbuttoned his trousers and put his hand under his boxers, with quick sure movements starting to jerk himself off, looking at her bare buttocks, at her wet underwear, at her face, at her trembling body.

Fuck, she was so pretty.

He knew he was going to cum soon, he could feel it.

"Can I kiss you there?" She asked softly, and he froze in mid-motion, panting heavily, thinking he'd overheard himself.

"What?"

He saw her open her eyes and press her lips together, playing with the fabric of his pillow, breathing unevenly.

"You could lie on your back and massage yourself, and I would kiss you there. I wouldn't touch you with my hands, just my lips and tongue. I've never done that before, so it would be our first time."

He stared at her in disbelief, breathing loudly, feeling his manhood pulsate hard in his hand at her words, at the thought that her sweet lips could touch him there, give him pleasure in such an intimate place. He thought, however, that he might inadvertently hurt her, and he would not forgive himself for that.

"− I − God - I don't know − I wouldn't want to hurt you − force you to do things like that, humiliate you −" He mumbled out struggling to put into words what he was feeling − he saw her move, shaking her head quickly, still not looking at him.

"− I want to try it − I'll tell you if it feels uncomfortable and you can do exactly the same − you don't feel bad when I kiss you, just when I touch you with my hands − I thought maybe this is our way to your fulfilment together −" She said softly, tenderly, and he felt he could come from just those words, from just imagining what she was talking about.

He felt horror and hope at the same time − he wanted her to do it, he wanted it to work, but he was afraid it would end up like the last time.

If she couldn't even touch his cheek, how could she touch him down there?

On the other hand, he realised that she was right, that they had kissed many times, but it was the touch of her hand that scared him.

Alys had never kissed him.

He swallowed loudly, looking at her uncertainly.

"−… will you tell me if there is something wrong? −" He asked in a voice trembling with emotion, and she nodded quickly.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He let out a loud breath, burying his manhood in his boxers, laying down next to her on his back, leaning partially against the backrest, breathing loudly.

He swallowed hard, horrified when he saw her rise and move towards him, laying between his thighs − she didn't touch him, but just looked at him expectantly.

"So?" She asked softly and he felt his cock pulsate impatiently, demanding at last the relief he craved − he was terrified and aroused, curious and uncertain, he felt his lips get dry from exertion and licked them involuntarily with his tongue.

"If it goes wrong − what do I say?" He asked uncertainly, wanting to know how he was supposed to act if it was unpleasant after all, not wanting to hurt her with his sudden, aggressive response. She considered his words for a moment, lowering her gaze.

"− say slower if you feel it's right but things are happening too fast, or faster if it's too slow. If you feel bad say stop and I'll pull away immediately −" She said calmly, and he felt relieved, sticking to these rules as something that could actually work, giving him a sense of security.

He thought that it might have gone too well for them.

"− and if I − you know −" He mumbled, and she smiled slightly, warmly, embarrassing him completely.

"− well − Eve was the first to taste the forbidden fruit, wasn't she? −" She asked softly, and he thought it was over, that with or without her mouth he had to come right now, because his cock would just explode in his boxers.

"− touch yourself as you always do and just say if what I'm going to do makes you uncomfortable − remember this is time for you and your pleasure −" She said calmly and he needed no more encouragement, on the verge of despair, slipping his hand back under the material of his boxers, tightening his fingers on his hard manhood, clenching his eyes in pleasure, jerking himself with sure up and down strokes.

When he felt her lips on his sensitive skin he gasped and moaned, but thought with surprise that it was not unpleasant, more like a gentle tickle.

However, when after a moment he felt her lips and her tongue licking upwards to the head of his cock he groaned louder, feeling a shiver of pleasure − her tongue was moist and rough, teasing him in a way that the touch of his own hand had never given him.

"− fuck −" He muttered, tilting his head back, panting heavily, massaging himself with increasing speed.

He stared at her in disbelief, seeing her leaning towards him with her eyes closed, brushing the pink tip of his cock with her lips, licking it with her tongue faster and more intensely, making him feel like he was just about to come on her face, his cock pulsing greedily in his hand.

He wasn't sure he'd ever seen a more perverted sight than her lips pressed to his swollen cock, leaking with his precum.

He parted his lips wider and gasped, surprised when she suddenly lifted higher and slid the fat head of his cock between her lips, teasing and licking it with her tongue. He clenched his eyes shut, tilting his head back, feeling this incredibly gentle yet intense sensation, with an involuntary rocking of his hips he pushed his length deeper into her throat, shuddering with arousal.

"− oh, God − please −" He mumbled out, horrified at how pleasurable this was and clenched his free hand in her hair, moving deep inside her mouth, feeling his whole body quiver in pleasure, just thinking about how warm and wet her throat was, how soft her lips were sucking him so intensely.

He thought that deep inside her he felt safe, he felt good, so wonderfully good.

"− faster − ah, fuck, squeeze me here −" He exhaled, grabbing her wrist quickly, tightening his hand with her fingers on his hard cock, showing her how she was supposed to squeeze him − her hand was wonderfully soft and warm, giving him a much more pleasurable sensation than his own, jerking him with a sure, intense motion harmonising with the smooth movements of her lips, loud from the click of her saliva.

"− forgive me − fuck, 'm gonna cum −" He mumbled out surprised that his fulfilment was approaching so quickly − he felt it in his lower abdomen, and then he just cum in her mouth, panting heavily with pleasure, leaning forward, surprised at how hard he throbbed inside her, how his orgasm shook his body.

He had never experienced anything like it before, and he felt completely stupefied by this wonderful, hot pleasure.

"− fuck − fuck, baby − oh my God −" He babbled with difficulty, clenching his eyes shut, breathing loudly, unable to stop himself from throbbing, listening as she bravely swallowed everything that came out of him.

He let go of her hand and hair, looking at her, and she immediately pulled away from him, sliding him out of her mouth with loud plop, breathing hard as he did, looking at him in disbelief.

He didn't know how any girl could look so innocent after sucking someone's cock.

He thought perhaps she was just a saint.

"− you are indeed my revelation −" He whispered embarrassedly, smiling involuntarily, feeling relieved, feeling free, because they had done it, succeeded, found a way for him to experience fulfilment with her, some point from which they could start.

He pulled her to him by the material of her dress, wanting to feel her close, now, immediately, and embraced her tightly, kissing the top of her head, feeling boundless gratitude for her sacrifice, that for her, too, this was the first time, and she was so brave, so good.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, and she nodded quickly, snuggling into him tighter.

They talked for a while longer, considering what to do next, whether she should move in with him. He respected her wishes and the fact that she felt joy and peace when she said that she would be coming to stay with him overnight.

That she would be there for him.

Just as he had promised, he let her study. After they both dressed in their pyjamas and lay down on his bed he snuggled into her, nuzzling his cheek against her soft breast hidden under the material of her t-shirt, her free hand combing through his hair as the other held the book she had just read, resting it on her raised thighs.

He muttered under his breath seeing what she was reading about, that she was preparing for an exam on the history of Renaissance art.

"Dürer?" He asked, running his pointing finger over her bare arm, and she nodded, turning the page, then went back to stroking his head.

"I'm working on a stained glass window right now, the design of which is based on his copperplate." He said softly, concentrating on how soft her skin felt under his fingers. He heard her move in curiosity, glancing up at him.

"What theme are you based on?" She asked excitedly, and he swallowed loudly, feeling embarrassed at how obvious his choice was.

"Adam and Eve." He whispered, pressing his lips together, waiting with a pounding heart for her reaction, wondering if she would see him as a desperate idiot.

He felt her hand freeze in the air only to surprise him as she hugged him tighter to her chest, placing her book on her stomach, embracing him with her other arm as well, leaning over him and kissing his hair. He murmured low, feeling hot in his heart at her reaction, her acceptance of how involved he was.

"They won't have our faces." He added lowly, and she giggled slightly, heartily − he felt butterflies in his stomach at that wonderful sound, at the thought that she was laughing because of him.

"Thank God my Professor is so smart." She said with amusement, both mocking and praising him at the same time, and he snorted at her words, cuddling his face into her firm, soft breast, wonderfully warm, adjusting to the shape of his cheek.

He murmured quietly, turning his face and grasped her nipple hidden under the material of her shirt with his lips, sucking on it in a light, unhurried rhythm.

He heard her moan quietly, surprised, involuntarily pressing his head closer to her chest, clenching her thighs in a sudden surge of pleasure, stroking his hair.

"You promised." She muttered regretfully, alluding to the fact that he was going to let her study for her exam which was to take place in a few days. He hummed under his breath, rubbing her nipple with the tip of his nose.

"I promised I'd let you study when we were done."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

[faebaex]

Tangled in Wonderland - Three's a Crowd, Four is a Party

author note: Eee Scarabia chapter! I really enjoyed writing this one, I never get an opportunity to write Kalim and Jamil and they were interesting and fun to write. Also, chapters are taking slightly longer as I thought of an interesting twist halfway through and now I’m working up to implementing it!! Floyd up next! (๑>◡<๑)

characters: Kalim Al Asim x GN!Reader, Jamil Viper x GN!Reader

You were unnerved.

Today, you saw Crowley. But not because it was you chasing him down, hurling abuse at him and whatnot. No, this time he came to you. And he didn’t come empty handed. He brought you a phone.

It wasn’t book four yet. Winter holidays were nowhere near. You hadn’t asked for a phone, but Crowley had insisted that you take it, in case you needed it for an emergency or whatnot. He just wanted you to have it, just in case.

You felt on edge. You had no idea what was happening. Since you had been transported to Twisted Wonderland, the story had proceeded as planned no matter how much you had tried to avoid it. At this point, you were still in the fray of book three, so why was Crowley giving you a phone now? That wasn’t supposed to happen until everyone was leaving for the winter holidays! So why now was the story veering off path?

It was all you had been fretting over for days. On top of avoiding Azul and the Leech twins, you were now worried about your future, and the little electronic device in your hands. You stared at the black screen, your perturbed expression reflected back at you as you walked back towards Ramshackle dorm. You wondered what this would mean, getting the phone a whole book early. Perhaps you were overthinking it? It was just a phone, after all. It hardly played a part in book four, only used as a brief plot device before disappearing completely. Maybe you were worrying over nothing…

You didn’t get any longer to dwell on it before you walked straight into someone. Or more accurately, they crashed into you.

You fell backwards from the impact, right onto your ass with the current object of your misery going flying out of your hand. “Ouch…” You groaned, checking your palms for grazes, and hoping your uniform trousers didn’t get damaged in the fall.

“Sorry, so sorry! Hey, are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

You froze when you heard that voice, not daring to look up. Oh no, oh no.

“Ahahaha… Jamil was right, I really should look where I’m going…”

Kalim Al Asim. The game’s local ball of sunshine and housewarden for Scarabia. Victim of book four, whatever way you look at it. Usually often chased after by the ever suffering—

“Kalim!!”

Jamil. Vice housewarden of Scarabia and perpetrator of book four. And another person that you certainly didn’t want to get mixed up with.

You quickly scrambled to your feet, dusting yourself off and looking around wildly for your tote bag so you could quickly take your leave. You found your bag sprawled across the path a few feet away, quickly grabbing it and throwing it over your shoulder, trying to make your getaway before Kalim could rope you into anything.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kalim asked again, having gotten back to his own feet. You waved him off quickly, a tight smile plastered on your face that you hoped would placate him enough to get him to leave you alone, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it! I’ve got to go, I’ve got an appointment…” You quickly rushed out an excuse, turning to walk away, even though that was the opposite direction to Ramshackle. You’d only taken a few steps when you felt a hand grip your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

“You forgot this.” Jamil said, holding out your phone, the cursed little object that was apparently finding new ways to bring you misery. You plastered your fake smile back on as you turned around, but it was quickly wiped away when your phone screen flashed on… And both you and Jamil looked down to see your phone screen had several cracks spread across it.

“Ah.” Jamil exhaled, and Kalim was quick to bound to his side, his face falling when he saw the ruined screen. “Oh no, I’m so sorry Y/N! Was that my fault? I’ll buy you a new one!”

“Oh no no! It’s all good!” You quickly said, grabbing your phone out of Jamil’s hand and shoving it in your tote bag, “It’s just some random dud that Crowley gave me, he probably found it in the 90% off sale basket at Sam’s!” You faked a small laugh before you waved and quickly rushed off in the opposite direction before they could stop you.

This was the last thing you needed. You were already up to your eyeballs dealing with the events of book three, you didn’t need book four to start early! You ducked down into the courtyard, sitting behind a bush and flopping your bag down beside you. You dug inside and pulled out your now cracked new phone, fiddling around with the buttons. It seemed to work fine, just the cracked screen making the interface look a little funky, but it was still useable. You sighed as you settled behind the bush for the long haul, hoping that fate would give you a small break for once.

Fate did not give you a small break.

It had been a couple of days since your little bump with Kalim, but thankfully you didn’t have any further run ins with either Kalim or Jamil. You did have a run in with a couple of mischievous eel twins, but otherwise you’d call yourself unscathed.

Of course, that was until Kalim came bounding towards you as you left the school building, giving you no hope of escape as he called your name and waved his arms at you exuberantly. So exuberantly, in fact, that he almost toppled over as he ran up the stairs, and you had to grab him by his upper arms in order to steady him. Kalim laughed, his usual carefree laugh as he fell into you, clutching your arms as he beamed at you.

“I’m sorry, I keep falling into you lately!” He commented, keeping his grip on your arms as he righted himself, still not letting go once he was solid on his feet, “I was looking for you! I wanted to invite you to a party!”

Oh no.

Kalim continued on, completely oblivious to the strained smile on your face. “I have been thinking of a way to make it up to you for breaking your phone, but Jamil told me I couldn’t buy you a new one. So I thought, why don’t I host a party with you as the guest of honour!”

Oh no.

You opened your mouth to try and stop this tragedy in motion but Kalim continued, unfettered.

“And then I thought, why not invite all the other housewardens too, and we can have a little housewarden party!”

Oh no oh no oh no.

“So come to the dorm tomorrow evening for the party!” Kalim exclaimed, bright smile on his face as he let go of you and span on his heel, bounding down the stairs with the same exuberance with which he came, “I’m going to invite the rest of the housewardens now, so I can’t stay. Bye!”

“Kalim, wait!!” You shouted after him, but he was already long gone, off to invite whatever housewarden he ran into first. This situation was worse than what you ever could have imagined – not only were you now the guest of honour at a party that you didn’t ask for and certainly didn’t want to attend, now all the other guests were all the people you had been trying to avoid! Whilst your relationship with Riddle had bloomed into something pleasant, and Leona gave you no trouble when you passed him in the hallway, you certainly didn’t want to be stuck in a semi-formal setting with Azul, considering all the issues you have been having with him lately. On top of that, you did not want to run into all the housewardens you had successfully avoided thus far.

You had to think of a way to get out of this.

You sighed as you slowly trudged into the hall of mirrors, heading for the Scarabia mirror.

Despite how hard you tried, you weren’t able to convince Kalim that you couldn’t attend his party. He was surprisingly hard to pin down, and when you finally managed to catch him, he batted off all your excuses like they were flies.

Nothing to wear? “Just come in your uniform! I’ll wear mine too, we’ll match!” Kalim assured with his sunny smile.

Got a detention? “Don’t worry, I’ll move the party back an hour!” Kalim exclaimed sympathetically.

Sudden homework to finish? “Bring it with you, Jamil can help! He’s great!” Kalim beamed, nodding enthusiastically.

Poor Jamil, as if he didn’t have enough to do.

You dragged your feet as you walked through the portal into the Scarabia dorm, not wanting to get to this party any faster than necessary. You realised that it would be more suspicious if you just didn’t turn up at all, so you hoped that if you showed your face for at least an hour, you could find an excuse to leave quickly with minimal damage incurred. Perhaps Riddle could help, he was a stickler for rules. Now you just had to remember one of the Queen of Hearts’ rules to quote.

The hallways of Scarabia were eerily quiet as you walked through them, incredibly conscious of the sound of your footsteps, as soft as they were, as you tried to figure out where to go. Even though you had played the game, you still had no idea of the layout of the dorms. You figured the party would be in the lounge, but where was the lounge?

You heard footsteps approaching and you looked up to see Jamil rounding the corner. He was distracted, looking down and typing on his phone. You opened your mouth to get his attention but he suddenly looked up, sensing someone ahead of him. His face immediately dropped when he saw you, a panicked expression overtaking his features as he froze in place before speeding towards you. Your eyes widened at the display, and you held your hands up to defend yourself but it didn’t stop Jamil as he grabbed hold of your wrist and yanked you towards him, clasping hold of the tops of your arms. Oddly, it reminded you of Kalim.

“What are you doing here?!” Jamil hissed at you in a whisper, almost looking like he wanted to shake you, his expression severe. “I-I came… For the party?” You stuttered out, confused and a little startled with the way that Jamil was acting. An uneasy feeling swept over you. Had book four actually started early and Jamil was already on his rampage? A thousand thoughts ran through your head a once, your expression looking akin to a deer in the headlights when both you and Jamil were abruptly brought back to reality by a voice.

“Jamiiiiil!”

Said voice trilled through the dorm, sounding faintly like it was coming from the entrance of the dorm. Unmistakably Kalim’s. Jamil’s expression turned more panic as his grip tightened on your arm and suddenly he was dragging you along the corridor, yanking open one of the doors and pushing you inside, quickly slamming the door shut.

The room that Jamil had shoved you both into was pitch black and very small, and you blinked several times in an attempt to help your eyes adjust. When your eyes finally adjusted, you saw that you were in some sort of cleaning closet, and you were very close to Jamil. You took a quick step back, not realising just how small the cupboard was as you bumped your head on one of the shelves.

“Ouch.” You hissed, Jamil immediately turning to shush you. “Be quiet, he’ll hear us!” Jamil scolded quietly, and you glared at him, disgruntled, opening your mouth and retort when—

“Jamiiil! Where are you?” Kalim called, his voice so close to the door that it made both you and Jamil freeze. You slowly closed your mouth, holding your breath as you listened to Kalim’s footsteps walk down the corridor, his voice slowly fading as he walked further into the dorm in his search for Jamil. Jamil pressed his ear to the door, making sure that the corridor was indeed silent before he turned back to you, the panic gone from his face but now replaced with an unimpressed expression as he folded his arms across his chest.

“I got Kalim to cancel the party, didn’t he tell you? I sent him off to tell all the housewardens not to come.” Jamil whispered, and your expression turned surprised as you shook your head quickly. Jamil sighed heavily, his hands massaging his temples. “Of course he didn’t…” He muttered under his breath, and you swear you could detect a hint of bitterness in his tone. Jamil closed his eyes as he continued to rub his temples, and you stood awkwardly, wondering what to say when Jamil suddenly opened his eyes and held out his hand.

“Give me your phone.”

“What?” You blurted out, leading to Jamil shushing you again. “Give me your phone. If Kalim sees you here, he’ll insist on having a mini party. I’ll go and distract Kalim, and I’ll message you when the coast is clear so you can leave.”

Oh… That was actually a pretty good idea. Scarabian foresight, you supposed. You reached into your blazer pocket and pulled out your phone, handing it to Jamil and he pressed the start button, clicking his tongue when he saw it light up instantly.

“You should really lock this,” he remarked as he began tapping away on your broken screen, “Azul would have a field day if he got hold of this.”

That he would.

Jamil tapped away silently on your phone for a little bit longer before handing it back to you. “Stay here and keep an eye on your phone. I’ll message you when you can leave. Make sure your quick.” Jamil said curtly, opening the door and stepping out. He turned to look at you right before he closed it, a hint of a sly smile tugging up his lips, “and you should really get your phone screen fixed.”

Ouch.

You stood awkwardly as you waited in the cramped closet, thinking over everything that had happened. Jamil had arranged for the party to be cancelled… You knew that Jamil usually got the bad end of the deal when it came to Kalim’s parties, always having to cook and arrange for things on top of all the other things that he had to do when he wasn’t wrangling Kalim. He could just be doing this for his own reasons, to lighten the load on his own shoulders. Or… Book four could have indeed started early and he cancelled the party so that he didn’t have all the housewardens sniffing around when he was coiling his grip around Scarabia.

You sighed as you crouched down and got a little more comfortable. Perhaps you were overreacting, and Jamil had no motive for doing this, it was just another way of keeping his head down and keeping his carefully crafted exterior looking ordinary and un-astounding.

… But you had seen the aftermath of book four, and Jamil certainly wasn’t the type to stick his neck out for anyone else, let alone you. So you really didn’t know what to think, and you just hoped with all your might that whatever it was, it wouldn’t cause you any more trouble.

Your phone vibrated in your hand, a message from Jamil popping up.

‘Go. Now.’ The message read, and you quickly shuffled to your feet and slowly opened the door, peaking out to make sure no one else was in the hallway before you quickly skuttled out of the closet, closing the door quietly and running as quietly as you could as you quickly made yourself out of the Scarabia dorm and towards the mirror portal.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you crossed over the threshold into the hall of mirrors, feeling a weight leaving your shoulders. You stopped for a moment at the entrance as you typed a quick message to Jamil to let him know you had gotten out undetected, and to thank him as well. You know, just in case it went a long way in the event that when he did eventually overblot, he might not throw you to the edge of the dorm along with the rest of the cast. Small victories, and all that.

As you hit send on the message, you got a peculiar feeling. The same feeling you got sometimes when fate decided that it wasn’t done messing with you yet. Or when someone was watching you.

You shouldn’t have stopped outside the hall of mirrors.

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 8, Unexpected - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, poorly translated Russian, bad jokes all around, Jade Carthage (she's a warning at this point), mentions of Bucky's sad past.

Word Count: 851

Previously On...: You and Bucky were enjoying some Thai makeout takeout in the common room, but you were rudely interrupted. Now you have to deliver Jade to her new room. And why is Steve acting like such a dick?

A/N: A short Part 2 for your 2sday! Feeling generous; might post Part 3 later today; idk. Just kidding; I'm going to do it, either on one of my breaks or when I get home from work, lol.

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows

You were leaning against a couch and mindlessly scrolling through your social media feed when Jade walked back into the common room about twenty minutes later.

"Where's Sergeant Barnes?" she asked by way of greeting.

"Bathroom," you said, slipping your phone into your pocket. "Should be back in a minute."

Jade sighed and walked closer to you, her stiletto heels sending her towering above your head. "You know, you really don't have to come with us," she drawled, as if offering you a way out was doing you some kind of favor. "I'm sure Bucky can show me to my room all by himself. There's no need for you to inconvenience yourself to babysit him. Unless, of course, you don't trust him around me." She smirked at you, emerald eyes hard and cutting.

You chuckled, moving away from the couch and standing up straight, though you couldn't hope to match her height. "It's no trouble at all," you replied, your tone sickeningly saccharine. "I'd hardly call it an inconvenience to take a nanosecond to point to your door while my boyfriend and I are already on our way back to my room to fuck."

"You're a real bitch, you know that?" Jade seethed at you. Well. That took you aback.

"Excuse me?" you countered. "I'm a bitch?"

"It wasn't enough for you to humiliate me in front of Stark and Rogers during my interview, but you had to go and make a play for Bucky once you knew I was interested in him," Jade scoffed. "That was a real mature stunt you pulled at dinner, by the way, storming off like a baby, hoping he'd follow you."

You stared at her, at a loss for words. She couldn't be serious; no one suffered this heavily from Main Character Syndrome. "Look," you said after staring at her for a moment, "you're free to think whatever you want, but Bucky and I--"

"You and I what, Sweets?" Bucky returned from the bathroom, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to your temple. "Hey, Vixen; ready to see your new home away from home?"

Jade battered her lashes up at him. "I can't wait, Sergeant," she purred at him.

"Uh, Bucky's just fine," he said, a slight blush creeping up the side of his neck. You couldn't help but wonder what that was all about. No, you reminded yourself. You two were in a good place. It wouldn't do you any good working yourself up over something that was most likely nothing. Instead, you took Bucky's hand.

"Ready to go, then?" you asked him. "The sooner we show Jade here her room, the sooner you and I can take advantage of my impromptu half day."

It was a tense trip from the common room down to your floor, though Bucky was doing his best to keep up a casual and friendly conversation.

Exiting the elevator onto your floor, Jade said: "Sorry if this is overstepping but, they kept you at the facility in Siberia, didn't they?" You froze in your steps, immediately squeezing Bucky's hand as you felt his entire body go rigid alongside you.

"Jade," you said, your voice almost pleading, "he doesn't really like to talk--"

"Yes," said Bucky, stiffly, as though his voice was coming on autopilot. "Yes, they did."

"They kept me there for a little while in the early 2000s," she said. "I wonder if our time there ever overlapped."

Bucky coughed into his hand. "I, uh... I wouldn't really be able to tell you. I was on cryo most of the time."

Jade gave a soft laugh. "Nu, dazhe ne nakhodyas' na l'du, etogo mesta bylo dostatochno, chtoby zastavit' menya nenavidet' kholod do kontsa moyey grebanoy zhizni." Well, even without being on ice, that place was enough to make me hate the cold for the rest of my fucking life.

Bucky's barked a short but genuine laugh, startling you. "Kholodneye, chem ved'minskaya sis'ka, ya prav?" Colder than a witch's tit, am I right?

"Vo vsyakom sluchaye, kholodneye, chem moi sis'ki." She said to him with a wink. Colder than my tits, anyway.

Bucky threw his head back and laughed aloud at that, and Jade shot you a side smirk. You rolled your eyes.

"If you want to stand here all day and make jokes about tits, Bucky, I may as well go back to work." Your voice was annoyed as you made to extract your hand from his and move away, but Bucky's grip on you tightened.

"What? No! You are not going back to work, Doll," he said as he pulled you into him, letting his arms envelop you. "Vix, your door's right over there," he pointed down the hall, "and please feel free to let us know if you need anything. But for now, if you'll excuse us," without warning, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder like a goddamn caveman, "I have to fix it so work's the last thing on this one's mind." With a grin, he carried your shrieking self down the hall and into your room.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[bunnliix]

The Invisible Strings that Bind Us - Chapter Five

word count: 3.2k

masterlist

warnings: ANGST, anxiety, dissassociation? kinda?, y/n is suffering in this chapter

The next morning, the nine people sprawled across the living room are shocked awake by the sounds of multiple alarms going off. Chan picked up his phone, as did Seungmin, to see what time it was and realized that they were on the verge of being late for their photoshoot.

“EVERYBODY UP NOW! WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE!” He shouted out, shaking out of their shock. Everyone but y/n threw themselves out of bed, heading for either the front door on their way to the other dorm, or to their respective bedrooms in this dorm. Y/n sat on the mattresses still, unsure of what to do. That was until Felix came back into the room, his eyes going right to her and her frozen state. 

On a whim, he decided to step over to her, and picked her up bridal style, carrying her into his room and depositing her on his bed, where he decided to pick out some of his own clothes to fit her. He picked out something similar to what he was wearing, and left it on the bed for her, at which point she shook off the shock, and quickly dressed in his clothing, doing her best to alter it for her height, since she was a couple of inches shorter. 

By the time she reentered the living room, the four who lived here were out there and ready. Felix smiled at seeing her in his clothing, they looked good on her. 

“You look so cute, sunshine.” He said, smiling at her. His smile grew at seeing her blush at the compliment.

“Felix, did you dress her in your clothes?” Seungmin asked, recognizing pieces of her outfit from his Australian soulmate’s closet. He received a nod as a response, and internally pouted. He pulled one of his bracelets off, walking over to her and grabbed her hand, slipping it onto her wrist. He smiled as she now had a piece of him as a part of her outfit now. 

Y/n looked like sunshine as Felix said she was, dressed in a yellow top, a white jacket and cargo pants, looking both cute and comfy. She walked over to the three of them, grabbing Seungmin’s hand as she did, bringing him over as well, and to which his ears turned the slightest bit red.

“So why is everyone up? Where are you all going?” She asked, looking towards Minho for answers.

“Photoshoot this morning.” “You’re coming with us, unless you really want to stay here by yourself.” Felix and Minho answered her at the same time, y/n just barely able to distinguish what each of them was saying.

“Oh, okay. I’d like to come with you, it beats sitting around here until you’re all finished.” She told them, absentmindedly starting to swing her and Seungmin’s intertwined hands. The other maknae line members silently giggled at his expression, while Minho just smirked. He wasn’t expecting it, but he was okay with letting her do whatever she wanted. Her being happy made him happy, and the slightly lovesick smile appearing on his face made that clear to everyone. 

The banging on the door to the dorm cut off their sweet moment, Chan’s voice being heard from the other side. “LET’S GO GUYS, WE’RE ALMOST LATE!” To which everyone gathered their bags, Jeongin letting y/n put her things in his bag, since they didn’t have time to grab one for her. They excited the apartment, Lino being the last one out, to ensure that everyone did indeed make it out of the dorm. They met up with the others and the large group headed downstairs and out to the vans. This time, y/n elected to go with the hyung line, promising the maknaes that she’d ride with them on the way back.

The ride to the photoshoot location wasn’t that far, thankfully. She sat in the back between Hyunjin and Changbin, the former taking one of his rings and slipping it onto one of her fingers after he saw his member’s bracelet. He then played with her hand until they arrived, which helped her anxiety. This was the first schedule of theirs she would be a part of, and every aspect of this was unknown to her, causing her anxiety. She was nervous about getting in the way, and Hyunjin could sense the anxiety, which is why he was so insistent on keeping her occupied with his actions. Unbeknownst to them all, the soulmate bond was slowly strengthening, allowing them awareness of each other's emotions. Before they arrived, Chan realized that none of them had her phone number, and so Chan quickly added his number into her phone, messaged himself so he had her number. He also added her to their group chat, so that she had access to everyone else as well.

As the car pulled up to the location, Chan turned to look at her, smiling at her to try and ease the nervousness he saw on her face. “So Minho and Changbin are going to get out first, then you, and then Hyunjin and I, okay? The others are already waiting for us outside the car, and we’ll walk in together, with you at the center okay?” He laid it all out for her, hoping knowing the plan would put her at ease. She nodded, and he handed her his hat and a mask to obscure her face. 

They all followed the plan as they exited the van, and y/n stayed in between everyone, Lino and Changbin staying on either side of her, while the others stayed in front, with the exception of Chan who was behind everyone else as he always was. Thankfully, there weren’t many people waiting for them at the building the boys’ photoshoot was in, and she stayed hidden until they were inside and out of the public eye. They were ushered upstairs to where they were set up, where the boys were quickly rushed into the dressing room to change and have their hair and makeup done. Han grabbed her hand, dragging her along with them. 

Thankfully, there was a couch inside the room, and y/n sat down to watch the organized chaos that was Stray Kids. Half of the boys were getting their makeup and hair styled, while the other half dressed in the first outfits for the shoot. They were all somewhat matchy, while still maintaining each boy’s unique style. The room was a cacophony of noise, which was, once again, the norm for anywhere the group of boys were. Once one boy was free of hair and makeup, another took his place, and this continued until all the boys were finished. They were definitely going for a very streetwear themed photo shoot, and y/n loved the looks on them. They really could pull off almost anything, and she admired that. The boys were ushered out of the room by one of their managers, who shut the door behind them, leaving y/n in the room with the group's stylists. 

One of the stylists, Yoona, spoke English thankfully, and she came over and talked with y/n, and they discussed the boys among other things. Y/n was asked, or slightly begged, by the stylists to let them style her at least once, as well as give her a little makeover. Since they were assigned to only Stray Kids, they never were able to work with female idols, and they missed it very much. She agreed, making the other women clap excitedly, and that started a discussion amongst the staff about how they wanted to style y/n and what they would put her in. All of this was in Korean, so the subject of their discussions was only able to distinguish a couple words she knew out of their conversation, but it was enough to give her an idea of what they were saying. She blushed at hearing just how excited they were to dress her up and to give her that little makeover. 

Though it wasn’t long until that same manager that ushered the boys out of the room, came back in, looking annoyed at the women’s conversation. By his tone and how the women reacted, she caught on that they were being admonished and then they left alongside the manager, presumably to touch up the boys’ appearances. This left y/n in the room by herself, and so she decided to venture out into the rest of the studio space. She quickly found herself in the middle of chaos, people walking everywhere, and more than once she had to move out of the way of someone. It only took a bit of maneuvering to find herself near the actual space where the boys were taking photos. The set was very grungy, but it accentuated the outfits further, and damn did her soulmates look good enough to eat. She stopped and stared at them, but got pushed around as others bustled around her, doing their jobs. She got dirty looks from a lot of the jyp staff, she was unsure of why, until that same manager came up to her, looking very pissed off. 

“Why did you come out of the room? You should have stayed in there so you’re not in the way. All you’ll be out here is a distraction. You distract them regardless, because of you we had to cancel their schedules yesterday. Do you know how much work that is, rescheduling everything, over a single girl? Over you?” He talked down to her, face almost purple with rage as he whisper-screamed. 

She shrunk into herself, unsure of what she could do here. She didn’t want to distract her soulmates from their work, but she also felt uncomfortable making a scene with a manager. She had already done that yesterday, and she didn’t want to make them fall further behind. The manager seemed almost gleeful to see how she withdrew into herself over his words. He continued on with his rant.

“You don’t even belong here, there’s no proof that you’re their soulmate. For all we know, you’re just tricking them, and are here for their fame and money. Look at you, dressed up in their clothes, with their jewelry on you. You’re just fame and money hungry, and you thought they’d be easy targets. They’re not, so just go somewhere else, far away from here and the boys. They don’t need you distracting them while they’re growing so rapidly, and you don’t need to be here. So disappear from here and do us all a favor.”

Every word hit her like a stab in the heart. She shrunk so far into herself, and though she couldn’t see it, the manager looked so proud of himself for how much he affected her. He could see sadness, insecurity, and every negative emotion written clearly on her face. She pulled away from the man, and quickly navigated her way back to the dressing room, where thankfully the stylists hadn’t returned. She went through Jeongin’s bag, pulling out what she had stored inside, and left the room in a daze. She rushed out of the studio and then out of the building, ignoring anyone still outside. 

Y/n walked down the street, unaware of her surroundings, and got many dirty looks from passersby as they had to jump out her way. She got yelled at a time or two, but those fell on deaf ears. She was so checked out, that all she heard was static, and she felt a million miles away from her body. Eventually, she ran into what felt like a big wall, and felt someone touch her arms.

She looked up to see a tall man, and she blinked, trying to come back to herself. She could see that he was saying something, but she couldn’t make it out, for she still couldn’t hear anything besides static. She felt her hand being grabbed and placed on someone’s chest, but it wasn’t the chest of the man in front of her. She felt his heartbeat through his chest, and felt the big breaths he was doing, and slowly she did the same, the world coming back to life around her, and she looked up at the two tall men surrounding her, as they looked down at her with concern in their eyes.

“Are you okay?” One of them asked, but her eyesight was still blurry, so she nodded at both of them. 

“Would you like a hug?” The other man asked, and while they were complete strangers, they had just helped her come back from wherever she was, so she quickly nodded. The one who still had her hand on his chest moved in to hug her, while the other came to her side and rubbed her back, before joining in and hugging her from behind. She was trapped between these two mountains of men, and honestly all she could feel was comfort. After a couple minutes, they stepped back, and she was able to get a better look at them. Their eyes met, and despite her eyes being a bit blurry because she forgot her glasses back at the studio, the men looked familiar. One of them coughed, getting her attention. 

“Would you want to stay with us for a while? Not like coming back to our place, just walking around with us for a while, hmm?” The pink haired man asked her. 

“Oh, I’m Yunho, and this is Mingi. We should have introduced ourselves before asking that.” The dark haired man said, pointing at himself and then the other man indicating who’s who. Y/n nods, thinking that the names are familiar.

She could say no, and continue wandering by herself in a place she doesn’t know, or she could stay with these two really nice guys, and it wasn’t like they were going somewhere private, she’d still be in public if she needed help. She’d text the boys later, she really didn’t want to return to the studio and face that manager again.

“If you don’t mind me tagging along?” She said, voice raising in a questioning tone at the end of her sentence. 

The boys nodded, confirming that they don’t mind her joining them. Yunho offered her his hand which she took. He did it both as a comfort, but also to ensure they didn’t lose her in the bustling sidewalk. They mainly walked down the road, making small talk, as her Korean was limited, but their English was enough to continue the conversation. The boys brought her with them into a couple stores, including her in their shopping by asking her opinion on pieces they found interesting. She helped to the best of her ability, but she wasn’t really a fashion person, so she felt she wasn’t as helpful as she could be. 

Eventually, Yunho gets a call, and once it ends, he turns to her and Mingi, telling both of them that it was their friends who they planned to meet up with for lunch. Mingi makes a sound in remembrance of that, while y/n figured that meant their time together was coming to an end. 

“Ah, okay. Well it was nice hanging out with you both.” She told them.

“Why are you sounding like you’re leaving?” Yunho questioned the girl.

“Well, you’re going to meet up with your friends, so I assumed I wasn’t invited along.” 

“No, I was just going to ask you if you wanted to join all of us, I asked them and they didn’t mind an addition. Come with us, please?” Yunho said to her, pleading at the end.

She weighed her options once again. Did she really want to spend more time by herself again, or spend it with the two boys and their friends? She chose the second option, agreeing to join them. It was at this time that her phone started vibrating like crazy. All the buzzing attracted the attention of the boys, and honestly it was overwhelming how much it was buzzing, which made her unlikely to answer the phone. She wanted to hope it was the boys, but it could very well just be her parents. If it was the latter, she didn’t want to even look at her phone.

The boys, noticing her reluctance to answer her phone, decided it was better not to ask. They distracted her instead, as they all walked to the cafe where they were all meeting up. Thankfully for the boys, it had a private room, so they didn’t have to sit out in the main area and attract attention. Y/n still hadn’t quite pieced together who these men were, but she can’t be blamed, she’s had a bit of a rough day so far. She just kept focusing on the mens’ conversation, until they arrived at the cafe. This was one they frequented, so the staff knew them very well, directing the three of them to the back room right away, taking their orders as they did so. Y/n just copied one of the guy’s orders, not sure if she’d like it or not. 

The two men greeted their friends and introduced y/n, the girl bowing to them as she said hello. They sit down, leaving a space in between them for her to sit, which she does. She was quickly pulled into conversation by the group and the duo explained how they met her. It takes a couple minutes, but she realizes by San’s voice, exactly who these boys were. While she tried to hide her reaction to the realization, it was pretty clear to the others exactly what just happened in her head. They didn’t want to embarrass her, so no one commented on her reaction, and just continued to include her in the conversations between them all, telling her stories that were funny or just plain embarrassing.

This was except for one member, who was sitting quietly, which wasn’t like him at all. He became enamored with his phone, ignoring the others, except for moments where he was mentioned or brought into conversations shortly. The reason for being so obsessed with his phone? Well, Changbin had managed to tell Wooyoung and Yeonjun about their newest soulmate last night, sending a picture of her that she didn’t know that he took. This was why he was so shocked, because he knew that they had a photoshoot right now, and Changbin had said she would be going along. So, how did Yunho and Mingi find her on the streets, by herself nonetheless. The ‘99 liner texted his friend, asking why their soulmate wasn’t with them. 

‘How do you know that?’ Changbin texted back.

‘Because she’s here with the entirety of Ateez. And Yunho and Mingi found her on the streets of Seoul by herself, and had to help her out of some sort of panic attack or something.’ Wooyoung texted back.  

“Fuck. Where are you? We’ve been trying to reach her, but she hasn’t answered.’ He received back from his friend, to which he sent the address of the cafe.

He heard his name called, and he looked up to see everyone looking at him. 

“Why are you so attached to your phone today?” Mingi teased.

“I’m trying to figure out why Stray Kids’ soulmate is here with us.” Wooyoung replied, but he wasn’t looking at Mingi as he said that. He looked at y/n instead, silently asking her why she was here with them. 

Everyone turned to look at her instead. She looked down, her anxiety returning.

“I had to get away from the studio, I felt that I was out of place there, so I left.” She said, really not wanting to get into the details of what the manager had said to her, she felt it would make those words real. She felt that they would also find her reason for leaving stupid, and so she clammed up after she finished talking.

Yunho rubbed her back, leaning in close to whisper that it was okay, among other comforting words. Mingi reached for her hand, grabbing it and caressing the back of it with his thumb, also trying to help her calm down. Now that the boys knew where she was, it was only a matter of time before they showed up.

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Taglist: @queen-thiccness@k-k-kn1v3s @ihrtlix

[chahnniesroom]

tenderness | chapter 9: a time to learn

[noun] /ˈtendərnəs/

1. the quality of being gentle, kind, or loving

2. the feeling of pain, aching, or soreness

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in a world where soulmates are rare and precious, you don’t know why the universe has decided to give you one. you never could have imagined that they would be an idol, and one that you worked with at that, or the challenges that would arise from your bond.

chapter word count: 6.8k

chapter warnings: injury recovery, lots of emotions happening

a/n: no words can describe how difficult this chapter was to write haha i apologise for some of the transitions between scenes and also for the fact that i did not proofread more than a cursory skim.

i am not a doctor and i did minimal research on anything medical related

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter | read it on ao3

Chan’s not a doctor and he’s never wanted to be one. But the longer that he spends in the hospital, the more he wishes there was something he could do to help. He knows that in a way, his presence is helping. The doctor tells him that for injuries, a soulmate bond is actually beneficial because sufficient Charge can increase healing times. 

The doctor also explains that the more serious injury is the initial stab wound. The blade had damaged Y/n’s liver, which had required surgery and now demands constant monitoring. It was the main reason that Y/n would have to stay in the hospital for an extended period of time. While the second wound was larger and required more stitches, it was fairly shallow and was expected to heal without any issues. 

As expected, there’s various bruises from the fall, but what surprises Chan is that he’s told Y/n is suffering from a mild concussion. When he had watched the footage that he had saved from social media, he could see that Y/n may have hit her head, but it hadn’t seemed that hard.

It means that Chan hasn’t left the hospital yet. It doesn’t really help that Y/n was specifically brought to the hospital that her father owns and that she’s situated in one of the nicest rooms available. With a large private bathroom, a separate room that has a few couches and low tables to entertain guests, and a large bed that’s almost more comfortable than the one Chan has at home, there’s no reason to leave. Yonghwan has been going back to the dorms to collect clothes and other personal items, like Chan’s laptop and some equipment. After a few days, the boys are allowed to visit too, although only in small groups and for short periods of time. 

Chan kind of hates the medications that Y/n is put on. He knows that she needs them to deal with the pain, to protect her from infection, it's just difficult to witness how they make her woozy and extremely tired, drifting in and out of consciousness. When she is awake, her thoughts are scattered, she can’t concentrate for long periods of time, and she spends most of the time watching Chan as he works or dozing.

It's a relief when she's finally weaned off of the ones that have the worst side effects. 

Although she gets her phone back pretty soon after waking, Y/n doesn’t really touch it until her doctor lets her know that her concussion has healed and she’s been cleared to look at screens without any limitations. Chan has helped her with messaging some of her friends and family, but she seems pleased to have full access to her phone again. Chan leaves her to catch up on everything, taking out his laptop and opening up a track that he’s been trying half-heartedly to finish a first draft of. 

He gets pulled away from his work a couple hours later when Y/n calls his name. She’s biting at her lip and staring with a furrowed brow at something on her phone. He immediately sets aside his laptop and turns to face her, trying not to worry.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Did you- I saw-” Y/n takes a second to gather herself and then flips her phone to show him what she’s looking at. It’s a Twitter fanpage, dedicated to Chan’s Bubble subscription. The last tweets are the updates to his profile picture, background photo, name, and status.

He did it in a fit of anger, knowing it was about as much as he could do without getting in trouble with the company. He wouldn’t dare send any messages about the incident, especially ones that could be twisted the wrong way and end up hurting Y/n, but he couldn’t just sit and pretend everything was okay.

So he deleted it all. Or, rather as much as he could. Replacing the pictures with solid black, leaving the status line empty. He didn’t have as much freedom with his name, but left it as “찬“ and nothing more. He hadn’t sent anything since then, either.

The other members hadn’t changed anything on their profile, but they too had been subdued in their messaging. The first couple of days, they did nothing. After that, Changbin, Jisung, and Felix joined Chan in the continued radio silence. Hyunjin had sent pictures of the sunset, when it was Y/n’s favourite time of the day and the clouds were painted pink against the blue background of the sky. Minho, Seungmin, and Jeongin had messaged only a couple times since then, reminders for Stays to eat well, get lots of rest, and stay safe.

There hadn’t been an official statement released by the company, but news of the incident had spread like wildfire.

“And yesterday was Sunday,” Y/n says slowly. “You were here the whole time, what about Channie’s Room?”

“What about it?”

“You didn’t do it?” When Chan just shrugs in response, Y/n’s brow creases like she’s trying to figure out some sort of puzzle. “What? But you… You always do it. Did the company tell you that you can't?”

“No, they didn't have to. I already let them know I wasn't going to."

"Then why?"

“I didn’t want to. I don’t want to,” Chan says sullenly, even though the explanation makes him feel like a toddler who doesn’t want to share their toys.

“What do you mean? It’s- You promised Stays! Here you can go now, just go to your studio and do a short live. If this is some sort of roundabout punishment for what happened-”

“I don’t want to,” Chan repeats. “All they’re going to do is spam the chat with questions about what happened. I don’t want to deal with that and honestly I don’t know if I can go through that without blowing up on them.”

"But-"

"Is it really so hard to believe that I have had other priorities the past few days? That I don't want to have to pretend that everything is okay?"

Y/n seems to soften at that. Chan reaches out and he catches her hand in his, mindful of the tape and IV that’s attached to it. The Charge warms between them.

“No, no, I’m sorry. It’s-” she hesitates for a moment. “I’m glad that you’re taking a break. Sorry if it felt like I was pressuring you.”

“You weren’t. Everything that I’m doing, it’s my decision. I know everything has been pretty overwhelming lately, but you’re-”

Before he can finish, the door to their room slides open and a nurse steps in to serve them dinner. 

“What were you going to say?” Y/n asks once they’re alone again.

“I don’t remember anymore,” Chan lies. “So it probably wasn’t that important. Let’s eat.”

Chan’s almost glad for the interruption. The moment is gone now and Chan’s just now realising that he has no idea how Y/n would react if he had said what he wanted. That she was his biggest priority right now. That he cares about her. That he would do anything for her. 

He’ll do that later, when they’re at home. When everything has calmed down.

—

Chan wakes to the loud smack of someone’s hand against a table. His face is burrowed into the soft fabric covering Y/n’s shoulder, his arm is wrapped around her waist, and the whole length of his body relaxed by the warm thrum of the Charge. He cracks open one eye and, after seeing that neither Y/n nor Eunsung, who was the source of the noise, have seemed to notice, quickly closes it to feign sleep. 

When Eunsung speaks, his tone is exasperated, like he’s had this conversation multiple times before.

“Are you even listening to yourself? You can’t keep doing this. You have to talk to him about it,” he insists. “The doctor said you have acute fatigue and the only reason it’s getting better is because the two of you are practically glued together right now. The second that he starts going back to schedules, it’s going to be the same as it was before.”

“I was doing fine before,” Y/n defends herself. “Things just got so busy with all the concerts, I forgot to eat enough. As long as I make sure that I’m getting enough calories, it makes up for the Charge. I promise, I'll make sure to take better care of myself."

Chan has no clue what they’re talking about. Acute fatigue? Y/n not eating enough? Chan hasn’t heard anything on these before.

"I don't think you understand. It's not about you doing things to take better care of yourself, it's about him not letting you take care of yourself. If you Charged for at least 6 hours a day then you wouldn't have to worry about eating more than you used to. You shouldn't have to be making up for anything," Eunsung argues.

"Listen, Eunsung-oppa," she says. "I know you're saying this because you're concerned, but I know what I'm doing. This is… This is bigger than just Chan-ssi and I. He's not just my soulmate, he's the leader of Stray Kids, a producer for 3RACHA. It's- The work that he does- What I see on Twitter, the comments on Youtube, the posts on community. He has the power to reach so many people and make lives better. And he does. He’s such a good person. How can I do anything but support him in any way I can? Even if that means letting him push himself without stepping in, then I'll do it. I trust that he knows his own limits."

“And if that means him ignoring your limits?”

“Eunsung-oppa-” Y/n protests.

"You've talked to him about it," Eunsung interrupts her, clearly able to read something in her tone of voice.

"Yeah, I- I understand how you feel, being on that side of it. I thought that I could convince him, but it turns out that he convinced me instead."

"But the conversation you were having, it was about him taking care of himself instead of you prioritising your needs, wasn't it?" he presses. Y/n confirms, but it sounds reluctant. 

“He didn’t want to hear it. He was… I don’t know. I don’t want to say what he said to me.”

“And he never brought it up again?”

“He did, kind of. He said sorry the next day. And I know he’s sorry. I know some of the things that he said were just in the heat of the moment. I get it, I really do. He was stressed, tired, we probably weren’t getting enough Charge, even then. But… It hurt. What he said,” Y/n says, her voice small. “What he really meant. It still hurts a little, every time I think about it. Every time I see him.”

"Sometimes you two are too similar. You’re both just pretending you’re fine, but you’re not. I know Chan, maybe not as well as you, but in a different way. He’s not the type to just let this type of thing slide. As much as I hate him right now for making you hurt, if he doesn’t know that you’re hurting, then there’s no way that things will be fixed. I think you need to talk again, if he cares about you at all then he wouldn't just let this go."

"I think you're overestimating our relationship a bit."

"What? Even after the past few months, you guys aren't close?"

“I’m not delusional, I never had fantasies of us immediately falling in love like in the movies or shows, I just,” she shrugs with the shoulder the Chan wasn’t curled up against. “I don’t know, I just thought that we could be friends or something.”

“You wouldn't even consider yourself to be friends?” Eunsung says in a low voice.

“Actually, at one point I did think we were friends… or maybe more,” Y/n admits with a hollow laugh. “I was wrong. His attitude keeps changing, I can’t keep track of it. One second he’s annoyed at me for nagging him and the next he’s carrying me to bed because I fell asleep on the couch. But wherever we’re arguing, it feels like it’s always my fault. And I know, I know that I’m hard to be around. It’s just hard. The moments of… care, they were an illusion. It was all fake, like kids playing house. He can tolerate me of course, but in the end, I'm just someone he works with.”

"You don't think that if he were to hear what you're saying, he would be sad?" Eunsung asks. Y/n stays silent for a while.

“I don't know. What he said to me. I thought a lot about it. I- I want to make his life better, but I think… I think I make it worse. I don’t understand why we’re soulmates, I can think of a million people who would be better for him than me,” she finally confesses, voice sounding wet.

Eunsung shifts forward, but before he can speak, a nurse knocks on the door and lets herself in. It’s enough noise that Chan takes it as an opportunity to pretend to wake up. When Y/n notices, she looks back towards the nurse and quickly sits up straighter so that Chan's arm naturally falls away from where it’s wrapped around her.

“I think you should go to the company, Chan-ssi,” Y/n suggests after the nurse has finished redressing her wound and has left. Her voice is back to normal, upbeat even, and if Chan hadn't been awake then he wouldn't have been able to tell she had just been in a heavy conversation. It’s scary how easily she can mask her emotions. “I don’t want you to fall behind because of all the time you’ve been spending here. Eunsung is already heading there, he can give you a ride.”

“What am I, a chauffeur?” Eunsung mutters, but he stands up and gathers his things without waiting for an answer. “Come on, let’s go.”

Normally, Chan would protest being ordered around, but at this point he’s just grateful to have some space to process what he just heard. He knows that Minho and Jisung were planning to visit soon and that Felix would be dropping by shortly after, so at least he feels somewhat comfortable leaving Y/n alone. He feels lightheaded and… bad in a way that he can’t describe. It's different than when he first found out that Y/n was hurt. Now it's almost like he’s dissociating, but worse because having an out-of-body experience would be better than the heavy press of emotions that he feels now. It’s clogging up his airways and all he can do is focus on following Eunsung out of the room.

Chan hasn’t had many opportunities to interact with Eunsung, but he knows for sure that they were never as tense as they are right now. It’s understandable though, after what he just heard. When Chan starts toward the lane where he usually gets picked up and dropped off, Eunsung instead steers him toward the parkade. 

“This way, superstar. Unlike you, I actually have the freedom to drive myself.” Chan barely notices the thinly veiled jab, he’s still reeling from the conversation. He can’t think of a comeback and really, doesn’t feel like he deserves to give a rebuttal.

When they finally stop in front of a car, Chan catches himself right before reaching for the back car door instead of the one to sit shotgun. 

The pair sit in silence for the first half of the ride, until Eunsung finally speaks up.

“You know, you don’t deserve her,” Eunsung says, eyes trained on the road ahead.

“And you do?” Chan fires back, thinking of all the rumours he’s heard from the rest of the staff, the giggles he hears whenever Eunsung interacts with Y/n. Although his guilt is creeping up and clouding his thoughts, his first instincts are to feel defensive.

Y/n is his soulmate, not Eunsung’s.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, I’ve seen how close the two of you are.” He tries hard to not sound too accusatory, but instead his words come out as overly bitter.

"Yeah, we're friends."

"And is that all you want to be?"

In response, Eunsung just laughs incredulously. “What? Even you thought- You think that I like Y/n? I’m-” He can’t even finish his thoughts before he starts to laugh again. “Of course I like her, but she’s like a sister to me.” 

“Of course you would say that-”

“I’m married, Chan."

"What?" Chan exclaims. "But, but everyone was saying you- I thought- Who are you married to?"

"Saerom. I've definitely mentioned her before, I know for sure that Y/n has too."

“Oh,” he says dumbly, “I thought- I thought Saerom was the name of your dog.”

"What?!" Eunsung turns to gape at Chan.

“How was I supposed to know? You said you have to take her on walks otherwise she gets too restless, you talk about buying her treats! You said she doesn’t like it when you’re travelling for too long, it sounds like how Berry gets when the family goes on vacation. Just because she has a human name doesn't mean she is a human. I've never seen a picture of her either."

“Oh, I cannot wait to tell Y/n about this.” Eunsung continues to laugh while Chan hides his face in his hands. His cheeks feel like they’re on fire. He’s relieved that Eunsung isn’t secretly in love with Y/n but also mortified that he thought his wife was a dog. At this point, opening the car door and flinging himself out doesn’t sound like a bad idea to get himself out of this conversation.

“You don’t wear a ring,” he says, probably digging himself further into the hole he’s currently in.

In response, Eunsung hooks a finger under the collar of his shirt and pulls out a chain, a ring dangling on the end of it. They turn into the company parking lot and Eunsung kills the engine, turning to face Chan directly.

“Chan-ssi,” he says seriously. “I know that there are rumours about a relationship between Y/n and I. She knows about them too. I’m not deaf to the chatter or the way they react when we’re together. Just, is it really so bad if people suspect that the two of us are soulmates? And I’m not saying this because I enjoy all the rumours. It’s because I know that they mask any sort of interactions that you have with her. If any other staff finds out that you’ve been visiting her in the hospital, they wouldn’t think anything of it other than you being concerned because she’s a manager and you were right there when it happened.”

Even though Chan doesn’t like the idea, he knows that Eunsung is right. It’s safer this way. He just has to get used to swallowing the possessive part of him that wants to publicly declare his soulmate bond. He can do this if it means protecting Y/n.

“You’re right,” Chan says quietly.

“I know all of this must be hard for you and even harder if you didn’t know about Saerom. Just know, we’d never do anything outside of being friends, I promise. If you don’t trust me, then at least trust Y/n. And,” he hesitates for a moment. “I know you heard our conversation earlier.”

“What?”

“I saw when you woke up. You’re not as good of an actor as you think you are, but luckily for you, I don’t think Y/n noticed.”

“I- I really messed things up, didn’t I?” Chan says, feeling defeated.

“I’ll be honest, it’s going to be difficult, fixing your relationship. Y/n is very independent. It’s definitely one of her strengths, but it’s also a big weakness. She doesn’t ask for help, even if she needs it and she’s very hard on herself. You know her family, she’s used to doing things on her own. She’s trying her best with this whole soulmate situation and she was really opening up. She trusted you.”

The past tense in his sentence shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

“You hurt her,” Eunsung continues. “But I know Y/n will forgive you. She cares about you, a lot. If it wasn’t obvious by… everything that has happened so far. You just have to talk to her.”

“I- Thank you, Eunsung,” Chan finally says. “Thank you for being there for her, for helping with all of… this. I’m sorry.”

“You’re a good person, Chan-ssi. I want things to work out between the two of you.” Abruptly, Eunsung’s tone hardens. “But if you make a habit of hurting her, just know that sasaengs will be the least of your worries.”

—

Chan forces himself to try and be productive for at least an hour in his studio before resigning himself to the reality that he wouldn’t be able to get anything done with how distracted he is. He spends the whole time wishing that he was back at the hospital. 

Right as he’s about to call it a day, Jisung- who has just arrived after visiting Y/n and assures him that she’s still doing okay- and Changbin join him. They’ve actually been getting work done in the past few days and quickly run through the progress that they’ve made. Even with their presence, Chan’s attention span is practically non-existent. Everything seems to remind him of Y/n.

He ends up staying until the sun starts to set. When Changbin and Jisung start to discuss dinner options, he takes the opportunity to pack up his things.

“Hyung, are you not joining us?” Changbin asks.

“Sorry-” Chan starts saying.

“Hyung just wants to go and see Y/n again. He doesn’t care about us anymore,” Jisung whines playfully. 

“That’s not true!” Chan says indignantly.

“You don’t have to lie, just make it up to us.”

“Anything,” Chan agrees.

“Have dinner back at the dorms with us tomorrow,” Jisung says instantly. “You need to bring new clothes to the hospital anyway, you can save Yonghwan-hyung a trip this way.”

Chan realises this was his plan all along and reluctantly agrees. Logically, he knows that nothing will happen to Y/n while he’s away, he just feels better being able to see it with his own eyes.

—

When he gets back to the hospital, he’s surprised to find Y/n just staring blankly at the wall in front of her. She doesn’t react to the sound of the door opening or Chan’s greeting while he had closed it again. He approaches her cautiously, afraid of startling her, but still manages to make her jump when he gets into her field of vision.

“Oh!” she says breathlessly, putting a hand to her chest. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were back.” She automatically smiles at him.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, just had a weird day,” she says in that same strange voice she had back in Japan. Chan is starting to realise it means that she’s hiding something.

“Y/n-”

“Maybe it’s just because you were gone. Not to be clingy or anything, I’m glad that you were finally able to go to the company and get some real work done, but I’ve gotten used to having you attached to my side,” she jokes. It’d be convincing if her voice was more steady, if her smile reached her eyes.

“Uhm,” Chan says, not quite sure if he should pursue the topic further or go along with Y/n’s attempt to gloss over it. “I’m sorry, I promised that I’d go back for dinner tomorrow.”

Y/n rolls her eyes at that. “You don’t have to apologise for that! I’m glad that you’re finally getting to see them after being cooped up here. They're your family, you have to spend time with them.”

“I wasn’t forced to stay here though! I want to be here, I want to be with you. You're my family too,” Chan says earnestly. 

Y/n's lips press tightly together at that and she breaks eye contact.

“How about this, Eunsung-oppa was planning to come by tomorrow sometime anyway. He said that he’d bring me some non-hospital food and I couldn’t say no,” she says instead of responding to Chan’s comment. “Felix wanted to come by again too, so you can go home at the same time as him. I’ll tell Eunsung-oppa to come by around dinnertime so you don’t feel like you’re leaving me behind, is that okay?”

“Okay, but promise me that if anything happens then just call me and I’ll come back.”

“I promise.”

—

Dinner with the members is rowdy as usual, maybe even moreso. Chan doesn’t think much of it, happy to have a distraction from his thoughts, until he takes a second too long to respond to someone and catches a couple of concerned glances. He realises that the boys are being overly rambunctious to keep him present. It warms his heart and makes him feel guilty at the same time.

After eating, Jisung slumps onto the couch, stretching out so that his feet hang over the side. Chan joins him, smothering him in affection before he leaves for the night. He knows that Jisung has been more anxious than usual these past few days and although he wishes he could do more to help him, his biggest priority at the moment is Y/n.

“Minho-hyung and I met Y/n’s family yesterday,” Jisung says, voice muffled from being pressed against Chan.

Chan bolts upright, accidentally elbowing Jisung in the process, forcing a groan out of him.

“What? When?” he demands. His mind is racing, finally able to sort out Y/n’s strange behaviour when he had last seen her.

“I forgot to mention it at the studio, but when I was visiting, they also showed up. I don’t really know what I was expecting, but they seemed alright.”

“Just alright?” Chan prompts him, trying to calm his heart rate which has spiked.

“Uhm, I mean her parents were very… polite. They spoke to Y/n privately so I just met them briefly.”

“Where did you go?”

“Her brother, Siwon, I forgot he’s a doctor too. He took me to a private lounge they had, there weren’t any people around which was good. He seemed nice, concerned about Y/n.”

“Well not that concerned,” Chan mutters darkly, “since he didn’t even bother to visit until yesterday.”

Jisung stares at him, clearly shocked by the sudden vitriol.

“Sorry,” Chan says, running a hand through his hair and making it stick up wildly. “It’s just been a lot these days, my emotions are everywhere.”

“It’s okay, hyung,” Jisung says cautiously. “It’s been a lot for all of us, but mostly you and Y/n.”

Chan hums in agreement, but still feels bad.

“You can go back now if you want,” Jisung prompts him.

“What? No, I-”

“I can tell you’re distracted,” he says. “Go, we’ll still be here when she’s better.”

Chan goes.

—

The route to the hospital and through the back entrance is becoming more familiar by now. Chan accidentally startles Y/n when he opens the door to her room, but her expression quickly settles to one of relief upon seeing him. Now that he’s looking closely, he can recognize the same, strained smile that he first saw at Chuseok. 

She shuffles to the side of the bed and lifts the blankets so that Chan can sit beside her. He wraps an arm around her and pulls her closer.

“The boys all missed you,” he says in greeting. “Dinner wasn’t the same with just the eight of us.”

“Oh come on-”

“You’re part of us, now. I told you before. And-” Chan hesitates for a moment. “I heard that your parents visited.” Y/n stiffens for a second, before relaxing again.

“Ah, Jisungie, the little snitch,” she says, the fondness in her voice opposing her words. “Yes, they dropped by while you were away.”

“And?”

“Well, my eomoni was telling me that it was a sign that I should quit my job, get out of the industry, said I was stupid for getting between the sasaeng on you, the usual. But I got my abeoji to look over my files, when I asked he said that I can be released tomorrow!” she says excitedly, smiling so much that her eyes curve into crescents. “I get to go home!”

It’s clear that things with her parents didn’t go as well as Y/n is projecting, but Chan is too much of a coward to push more. Somehow that righteous anger that had filled him when he had talked to Jisung has been replaced with uncertainty. He doesn’t want to get into yet another disagreement with Y/n now that he knows what she truly thinks of him. Or rather, what she thinks that he thinks of her. He needs to focus on bringing them together instead of allowing them to drift further apart. He vows to bring this topic up another time, when things are better between them.

“That’s great!” he replies, but even as he says it, he can’t help the nervousness that starts to form in his stomach at the thought. He is happy that she’s been healing well and will definitely be reassured to have her back home, but until now, the hospital has served as a sort of protective bubble for Y/n, shielding her from the outside world. He has the irrational sense that keeping her here longer is the same as keeping her safe for longer.

—

“Bang Chan-nim?” The doctor that has been in charge of Y/n’s care steps into the room and glances at Y/n, who is busy packing away her things. All morning she’s been in a good mood, enthusiastically talking about what she plans to do once she’s back at the dorms. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course!” he replies. He tells himself that everything is alright, but can't stop himself from running his hands through his mess of hair, palms prickling with nerves.

The doctor leads Chan to his office and smiles at him gently, like he’s about to break some bad news and needs to make sure that Chan doesn’t also break. It makes things worse, Chan’s stomach starts to churn, his mind racing.

“This might be a difficult conversation, but you may already be aware.” The doctor starts slowly. “Y/n-nim works with idols, right? In the entertainment industry?”

“Yes,” Chan agrees, but he’s confused. Did someone leak the news of Y/n’s injuries? Is there a sasaeng that’s been visiting the hospital? He wants to pull out his phone and immediately call the company and force them to do more damage control, but the doctor continues.

“These days, there is a lot of pressure for young women, especially those who work with or follow idols, to fit into certain beauty standards.” Chan nods. He’s seen countless people destroy their bodies to try and lose more and more weight and knows how devastating it is, but he still doesn’t understand the point of this conversation.

“I’m concerned about Y/n-nim”-the doctor interrupts Chan’s thoughts-“When she came to the hospital, we were focused only on her injuries, but throughout her treatment, we have noticed that she is underweight. The testing that we’ve done tells us she has not been getting enough of what her body needs. Not getting enough food, not enough charge, and not enough rest. She's showing signs that she was becoming malnourished.

“It’s not uncommon to see those with soulmates, especially young women, take advantage of the bond, reducing charging time and saying that they will eat more instead. They often eat a normal amount so that it doesn’t concern anyone, but it’s not nearly enough to make up for the missing charge. Both of you have probably been more sensitive lately. It wouldn’t surprise me if you’ve also noticed yourself being irritable or having rapid mood changes these past few days."

Chan can't do anything but stare as the doctor pulls out a small packet of paper. His pulse roars in his ears and all he can feel is guilt, pooling in his stomach and creeping towards his extremities. He feels nauseous. This is his fault.

He thinks back to all the nights where he stayed in the studio, just a little bit longer to finish a track, sliding into bed to charge for only a few hours before they had to wake up. Of the extra meals, protein drinks, snacks he had consumed that he thought nothing of, too used to the varying diets of the rest of the members depending on their schedules and the ups and downs of bulking up or cutting calories. He’s used to the heaviness of his eyelids, the pounding headaches, and occasional dizziness that were the result of sleepless nights.

All these things he had taken in stride, forgetting that Y/n had been dealing with too. He had the luxury of being an idol, during schedules and tour, there was always breaks for food. But he had seen the way the managers and coordis had to run around, only eating when they had a couple minutes to spare.

He knows that he’s snapped at Y/n more than a few times, patience worn thin enough that at the end of the day he doesn’t have it in him for niceties. Of course, he had felt bad about it after the fact, but Y/n hadn’t seemed very phased by it and he had forgotten about it until the next time. It wouldn’t be the first time that stress made him more easily annoyed and ill-tempered, but now he realises why he seemed quicker to get caught up in his emotions.

The doctor continues talking, but Chan feels like he's underwater, the sound is muffled. This is his fault. 

"Bang Chan-nim!" The doctor clasps one of Chan's hands in his and finally pulls his attention away from his self-loathing thoughts. "Are you okay? I know it can be a shock to find out, but don't feel bad. It's very common to be surprised, people are good at hiding things like this, even if you're close to them and I know that your bond is still relatively new. Luckily there are a lot of strategies we have to help your soulmate get more Charge, even if you both have busy schedules. Okay?"

"Okay," Chan replies weakly, he can barely focus on what’s being said, all he can think of is that he's the reason his soulmate is malnourished. And he didn't notice. That they think Y/n has an eating disorder, when it's him that has dictated the amount of charge that she gets. The doctor flips open the packet of papers and starts to highlight it.

"The most important thing right now is increasing Charging time. With Y/n-nim's injuries, her bedrest and all the time you two have spent charging have already been helping a lot. Take this recovery period as a time to build new habits and establish a routine that involves more skinship. I understand you two are busy, but I expect you try for at least 6 or 7 hours of sleep while charging, but more if possible. If you're both doing work on the computer, watching a show or movie, or eating, then sitting close enough to touch will help recharge without taking away from your regular activities. As you may already know, for the most efficient charging more skin-to-skin contact is recommended." He flips the front page back over and places the packet onto another, larger, stack of papers. "More details can be found here and this is the rest of Y/n-ssi's care instructions, prescriptions, and other information on soulmate bonds."

"Thank you so much," Chan says, automatically reaching out to accept all the papers.

"You're welcome. This must be very overwhelming, but Y/n-nim is healing quickly. Your bond is helping her recover much faster. We caught her malnutrition fairly early and expect that she'll be at normal energy levels within a few weeks. Don't feel guilty and try not to worry too much, Bang Chan-nim. Your bond is a good thing, not a bad one." The doctor smiles warmly, checking his watch and standing up. "Y/n-nim should be ready to be discharged now, let's go back to the room so that we don’t keep her waiting."

Chan follows the doctor back in a daze. Y/n is sitting on one of the chairs in her room, scrolling on her phone when they arrive. She brightens when they enter.

“Can we leave now?” she asks eagerly. Chan beelines to her side, reaching to hold her hand.

“Yes, everything has been sorted out now and Bang Chan-nim has all your care instructions. Please give us a call or come to visit if you have any questions or concerns at all,” the doctor says.

“Of course.”

“Looks like everything is ready to go. It was very nice to meet you both, although I wish it could have been under better circumstances. I hope that the rest of your recovery goes well, Y/n-nim, and please do not hesitate to contact us for anything.” With that, the doctor bows and leaves the room.

At the same moment, a nurse knocks on the doorframe as a greeting, pushing a wheelchair through the open door. Y/n’s smile fades when she sees it.

“Oh, no,” she says quickly. “I can walk, there’s no need for one of those.”

She turns to look at Chan for support, but he just shrugs helplessly. Secretly, he would feel better if she used it. After only a week in the hospital, she isn’t close to being fully recovered, even if she hides it well. He’s seen the slight grimaces when Y/n tries to shift positions and the way her face is lined with pain when she walks or has to stand straight for longer than a few minutes. If she pushes herself too much now, it’ll just extend the overall healing process.

“Really, I don’t need it,” she insists. “What was the point in all the walking practise? Besides, Chan-ssi and Yonghwan-ssi will be beside me, they won't let anything happen to me.”

The nurse looks sceptical, but agrees. Before they leave the room, Y/n twists her hand trying to break Chan’s grip. 

“It’s too public,” she murmurs when he tightens his hold instead. “Just in case, I don’t want anyone to see anything that can be misinterpreted.”

Unable to think up an argument against that, Chan reluctantly lets go. Y/n hooks her arm with Yonghwan’s instead and they make their way out, Chan hovering behind them anxiously. They’re all wearing masks and hats and the car that’s going to pick them up is waiting at a private exit, but there’s a shared urgency in their movement. By now, the media has turned their attention to other stories, but with the radio silence from Stray Kids since the incident, fans have had nothing to do except theorise and wonder what’s happening behind the scenes. 

He knows that it’s making him paranoid. He finds that he’s constantly looking over his shoulder when he’s in the hallways of the hospital. He’s never been more careful trying to cover up his appearance and avoid anybody who looks like they might recognise him. 

They can’t risk the chance of a sighting of Y/n, especially now that her face was captured and shared on social media by fans before JYPE’s legal team was able to step in, and pictures of Chan with Y/n would make things much worse. There have already been rumours about how close Y/n is with all the members and who she is, using pictures from other schedules and events, somehow identifying her in blurred out clips from vlogs that have been posted, and even old footage from when she worked with Xdinary Heroes as evidence. 

It scares Chan. Scares him so much that he can’t talk about it to anybody.

Although Y/n’s time in the hospital was fairly short, all things considered, Chan feels like he’s the one that has changed during this stay. Everything he has learned has made him feel like his chest has been opened up and his insides have been scooped out, leaving him hollowed out and unsteady. 

When they finally get home safely, it feels like Chan can breathe easily for the first time in days.

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[jasntodds]

Penance Chapter 2 Teaser - Full Chapter coming 6/12

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader Teaser Words: 1,716 Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, mentions of injuries, mentions of canon violence Summary: ❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞ It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right? Right? A/N: I'm having problems with my taglist?? I'm trying desperately to get it to work properly so please bear with me lol I'm always going to post some sort of update when this fic will be posted just in case so you can search my blog under "penance" if you haven't been tagged in anything in a week!! A teaser or chapter will be posted every week!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

Jason heads out to find Tim, daunting his Red Hood gear and helmet. The drive isn’t too far from his safe house but it is raining tonight, on and off. Yesterday was nice, warm and no rain. It's a bit of a depressing contrast between the two days. The street lights reflect off the wet pavement and Jason isn't entirely sure what he's going to do when he gets there. All he knows is Tim will probably need help and he'll just take it from there. It's not exactly how he wants to approach any situation but he's not sure what Tim will even be doing.

Jason pulls up to a building across the street from an alley where some, surely, illegal deal of sorts is going down. Apparently, Tim is supposed to be here eventually so Jason parks the bike in the dark of his alley before he uses a grappling hook to get to the roof of the building just so he can see better. And then he waits.

Meanwhile, you've made your place on the roof overlooking the alley with the van, knowing this is where Tim will be. And you can’t help but feel excited to see him. You miss him a lot even if it is a little hard to be happy it's under the circumstances of Robin. There's also the bit of dread and excitement over seeing Jason, working with Jason.

Seeing him means there's going to have to be some sort of conversation over the two of you being unable to pick up a phone and call each other. There's going to be some sort of conversation about everything that happened. It's going to bring back all of the pain all over again. Will you even be able to pick up where you left off? Or will you fall into an awkward dance where you both just fumble over each other until Tim leaves? Or will it be worse? But, seeing him, being around him, always felt the most like home and you really hope he's okay and happy. You're excited just to see how he's doing.

You're laying on your stomach to take cover while you watch over the ledge but your fingers tap wildly against the pavement at the thought. It’s the hope this goes okay, that he doesn’t hate you. That Tim is happy to see you both. That Tim doesn’t get killed in the first five minutes of being Robin. Excitement, dread, and anxiety flood your system. Why did you agree to this?

Commotion starts from below you and you see Tim on the top of a car while the goons are loading their van. Even in the low light, you can tell the suit is a little different than Jason's and Dick's. The cape definitely is with its jagged edges and it's longer. It fits him actually. You stand on the edge of the roof, grappling hook in hand and knife in the other, ready to slide down the second things get out of hand. 

Tim handles himself okay at first but then they outnumber him and they’re faster than he is and better. You know Tim has had a few training sessions but by the looks of it, they could not have been very long or helpful. Things start looking pretty bad for him so you use the grappling hook to lower yourself down but before your feet even hit solid ground, shots ring through the alley, taking out one of the men and then the other. Just as your feet hit the ground, you nail the last one with a knife, turning to face down the alley with your arms crossed. And there he is, walking confidently with a gun in hand.

Of course, he beat you to it.

Jason's eyes widen behind his helmet. He did not expect to see you tonight. Kind of like last night, seeing you throws him off. It's a bit jarring somehow. Gotham might be a big city but you travel in the same circles, it was bound to happen. Just...two nights in a row seems...odd.

“I had that covered.” You state through your mask.

Jason can taste his heartbeat in his throat as he keeps closing the distance between you. Your mask always muffled your voice a little but it's still his favorite sound. He can feel his cheeks burning and a smile desperate to cross his lips. Jason bites it back, trying to keep his composure.

“Where the fuck did you even come from?” Jason quips back.

You point to the roof. “Clearly. And you?” You question, keeping your voice flat and curious, trying to conceal your own nerves.

Jason points a thumb over his shoulder. “Clearly.” He echoes as he stands next to you.

It all clicks then, this was definitely a setup by Dick. Of all fucking people, Dick Grayson is doing this shit? Jason swears up and down this is getting ridiculous. Bruce, Molly, Gar, Dick? They are all trying to get them to communicate and...maybe they have a point even if Jason never wants to admit it. Not when two of those people are Bruce and Dick. But, he can’t focus on that or how this is sending his head into a tailspin.

He needs to help Tim which means he can't let his feelings for you get in the way even if ignoring them is one of the hardest things he's ever done. He has to act normal and like being next to you doesn't make him want to explode. He needs to keep his cool, keep the smile from ripping apart his lips because even if this is a setup and he should be mad, he misses you so fucking much it physically pains him. He can't find himself to be mad because you'll never abandon Tim so even if you don't speak to Jason while you help him, at least he gets to see you as you. Like old times even if it doesn’t last and for that, Jason is happy.

Jason reaches behind his head, releasing the helmet before he takes it off and you swear you swallowed your heart. He looks so good. “Who the fuck are you supposed to be?” Jason calls, eyes locked on Tim and you think you've melted at the sound of his voice.

His voice is somehow better than you remember it. A little calloused, a little rough, but not too deep. It always fit him so well and you've never been so thankful to have a mask that covers the lower half of your mouth because your lips are curling into the most uncontrollable smile. Every piece of reservation you had about seeing him completely flies out of the window.

Jason Todd has always had his type of gravitation pull like a planet lost in the universe and you've just been sucked right back into it.

You miss him so fucking much.

Tim looks down to his chest, right at the R symbol before he looks back to Jason. “I’m Robin.” Tim states as if Jason should have known.

The subtle hint of a smile comes over Jason’s lips seeing someone else in the Robin suit. It’s weird because it almost feels…hurtful. It hurts a little seeing someone else in a position where he was, not in a jealous way but in a way that he is reminded that was him. He was Robin and he fucked up and now he’s not. It hurts in the way he’s reminded of it being ripped away from his bloody hands. The suit is different, Jason clocks almost every difference in the first few seconds but it is similar. Jason was beaten to death in something similar with the same mantle. There’s almost this part of him that even worries about it. Robin didn’t work for Dick. He didn’t die as Robin but it didn’t work for him. Jason was killed. Where’s that going to leave Tim?

On the other hand though, there is something about someone else taking up Robin that feels good. Jason died but Robin didn’t. Robin never had to die with Jason and he shouldn’t. The people need a Robin and he doesn’t really know Tim but you do and Gar does. He trusts you both and Tim looks thrilled to be here. It’s a mix but there is something kind of nice seeing the resurrection of Robin.

“Hey.” You chime as you walk closer to him.

Tim’s smile splits his face. “Hey, how’d you know I’d be here?”

“Molly tracked you the second a Robin showed up. Knew it was you.” You laugh softly before you pull him into a gentle hug. “You should have told me.” You say as you pull away, your hands coming to his shoulders as you look over the suit, noticing all the difference between this one and Jason’s.

“Yeah, I thought I could handle this.” Tim chuckles sheepishly, realizing he was a little in over his head tonight but not lacking in any of his confidence to do this job. 

“Clearly, you were wrong.” Jason closes the distance between you. “You’re lucky we showed up when we did.” Jason stands right beside you as you drop your hands from his shoulders, maybe you looking over the suit makes him want to chew his tongue out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I got that.” Tim nods his head. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The smile reaches your eyes as you beam back at Tim.

Jason’s eyes narrow at you slightly. You seem awfully happy. He knows Tim is your friend but you just seem overly happy or maybe he’s in his own head about it. He just remembers that day picking you up from Titans Tower and it was...similar. It's like he's getting stabbed in the chest and the base of his throat knowing you were not happy to see him tonight. The very thought of your feelings disappearing makes him feel like his rib cage might collapse on itself. So, he pushes it away as far as he possibly can and bites back his own words, trying to just be relieved you look happy instead of pissed off Dick set you up. He’s just thankful you haven’t run away. Yet.

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[reptilian-angel]

The Cafe' Prince & The Killer Cook Pt. 1:

Chapter One - "Egg on your Face" Mega-Omelet

ME: Blitzø, having suffered a the worst day of his life, finds an unexpected silver lining when he awakens inside some random cafe hosted by a sweet (if oddly articulate) little girl, Via and her chef daddy, Stolas (Who looks like Hell on Wheels and cooks just as good, but who gave a shit.)

Later on after this chance encounter, a completely unanticipated offer might just be what Blitzø needs to turn his trashfire of an existence into a lifetime of amazing food, exciting moments and maybe even . . . Love?

Stolitz fluff, food chain puns, good food and healthy doses of angst await you at the Stars & Stir-Ups Cafe’!!! (Yet to be named)

Inspired by Pink Lomito’s ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE Stolitz Cafe’ AU fanart and written with their blessing, so I can only hope this will live up to the hype! (Displayed Below)

Full disclosure, I DO bake as a hobby, but I am NOT a career baker so most of descriptions of any foods mentioned, cooking and otherwise, will totally be written by an author completely in the dark, so please be gentle with any criticisms regarding any of the cooking displayed here. (Also see the end of the chapters for the recipes used, or at least the closest comparisions.)

Get Your knives and forks ready, you sinners & saints, and please enjoy!! I owe nothing!!!

Normal P.O.V.

When Blitzø woke up, he was automatically confused.

He had expected to be face flat, ass up on the shitty, grime covered flour of the bar he had trudged into last night like he had only hours to live. It had been a record-breaking shitty-ass day for him and he decided, like the many, many bitchy broke losers out there who had had their dreams squashed and trampled on like gnats in Hell, to drown his sorrows. Burning $ouls like tissue paper, he had began going for broke, mooching off other patrons and drunkards, earning petty shots in impromptu contests and maybe even performed a small strip tease for a gaggle of succubi and incubi.

He wasn’t a hundred percent sure how it ended, although he did have a vague recollection of plowing his dick into one of the incubi in one of the nasty as fuck bathroom stalls and wondering if the greasy pump soap could be used as lube before fading to black.

Christ on a Pogo stick he had REALLY gotten fucked up, didn’t he?

That said, he wouldn’t have been shocked in the slightest if he had found himself upside down, half- naked and definitely robbed of his wallet and phone in some shady alley at the crack of dawn. Yeah, that would have been normal for him.

Waking up in a plush, fancy-pants booth with a soft, comfortable quilt thrown on top of him was not.

He began leaning up to try and get some sense of where the fuck he was, but everything between his ears immediately started to bitch at him with an acute, relentless thrum that felt even worse than the headaches Moxxie gave him while bitching at him. On a good day.

He gave a low groan, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes in a sorry attempt to dull the throb. He swore everything was hurting, his horns were hurting, his scars were hurting, fuck, even his brand was hurting -

“Fudge.”

That innocent correction almost made him tumble out of the booth. He barely smacked his palms against the floor to keep him from actually falling face flat on its surface. Points for highly trained trapeze instincts. Centering himself, he found a pair of big, bright pink, and admittingly cute eyes of a little owl demon looking right at his.

Even with him being upside-down, he could tell they were a girl; maybe four or six, with a messy nest of long dark hair let loose save a small ponytail tied up on the side of her head with a scrunchie covered with moons and stars and a simple pink jumper with white stars of various sizes printed all over it.

It had taken a second for his hungover brain to figure out she was an owl, the white heart-shaped frame of her face like that of an owl’s a dead giveaway. The way she blinked at him only cemented that conclusion. She blinked calmly at him, despite how fucking weird he was sure he must’ve looked as a middle-aged, hungover, hot mess sleeping in what he just know fully realized was a restaurant booth.

Feeling caught off guard for a number of reasons, he could only respond with, “Sorry?”

The Little owl gave him a reproaching look, or at least as close to one as a toddler could manage. “‘Fudge’. You said it wrong.” She stated in all seriousness. “You’re supposed to say ‘fudge’ when you say the ‘F’ Word. Otherwise, it’s not polite.”

“Says who?” He asked.

“Says my daddy.” She said proudly as if she was referring to Lucifer himself. “He says ‘Politeness is the-” She paused, her face scrunching up in concentration, “- ‘Per-Ah-Get-Ive’ of sensible young demons’.”

He gave her a small smirk. “Oh yeah? And what is that?”

“What’s what?”

“Whatcha just said – Know what it means?”

He had expected her to respond with a "yes" as all little hellspawn do to prove they were just as smart as their parents who most of the time are dumber than the garbage man, and of course be all snooty and snobby about it too.

But, amazingly, she shook her head so much her hair flew in both directions. "Nope! But my daddy taught me that word. Which means it must be a smart grown-up thing to say. My daddy's all grown up and smart so it makes sense to try and apply it to my everyday 'Wing-guess-tics'."

"Uh, 'wing-guess-tics'?" He repeated with a smile.

The little owl nodded. "You know, the way you talk and how you sound to other people. Don't you ever take pride in how you sound towards others less proud of themselves?"

Blitzø sure as hell didn't. In fact, good mood or bad, he couldn't give two shits in a Gluttony Ring brand crapper what every other piece of shit thought about him or the way he talked. Which is exactly what he should tell to this innocent, sassy, too precious for words little oh satan's taint, he was too hungover for this.

Getting up at an old man's pace, he grunted, "I don't really have an answer to that, ow."

Okay, sitting up straight didn't quite stop the ache, but it wasn't harping so badly now.

The little owl made a sad sound. "That's too bad. Everything needs an answer."

"Does it?" He asked while once again pressing into his eyes to try and settle his headache. She gave an affirmative hum.

"They do. Sometimes."

Blitzø gave up trying to squeeze his eyeballs back into his brains and gave a slow roll of his neck, breathing with the small audible stream of cracks that followed. "Yeah, well, sometimes is better than no times I guess." Once his neck didn't feel so stiff, he looked down at the little owl who still was blinking up at him. "Hey kiddo?"

"Yes?"

"Can you, uh . . . Can you tell me where we are right now?" Geez, Blitzø, you need a little kid to tell your dumb, hungover ass where you crashed? Talk about hitting rock bottom.

She giggled like he had just told a funny joke. He admitted, even with a headache, the sound was nice to hear. "You're in our cafe, sir. Mine and Daddy's cafe. You've been here ever since last night."

He felt embarrassment collide with exasperation in a wave that only incensed the pounding in his skull. Grreeeaaat. Now he had to deal with a bitchy dad that could probably make a Karen more bearable. And considering his crappy luck, he could probably give Moxxie a run for his money when it came to whining and botching. Like he didn't have enough of a migraine already.

To distract himself from the imminent ass-chewing, Blitzø decided it was a good time as any to take a quick peek around. In case, things went tits up, he should know how much he could tag with horses and dongs later.

Look all over, he had to admit . . . He was pleasantly surprised.

The cafe was definitely a little ritzier than almost every other diner or bistro in Pride, at least the ones run by imps or sinners. It wasn't an 'in-your-face-so-suck-it-bitches' bourgeois nightmare that you found on the cover of rich people magazines, but it was still easy to smell the $oils that had been burned to buy the number of furniture and appliances that filled it. Pristine designer steel tables, floors tiles so clean you could eat off of them, cushy warm booths like the one he was sitting in that felt comfy enough to be small bed; yeah, this place made the local Hellbucks look like a gas station men's room (Which was also, coincidentally, one of the many places he would periodically wind up in after a bender).

He could probably make off with one of the tablecloths - Made with actual fucking linen, not rag or crappy burlap - And the money he would get for it would easily pay off his non-existent mortgage.

The walls, covered in perfectly intact, shiny wallpaper that was neither covered in mildew nor aged and peeling, colored the interior with a tasteful cream and vanilla striped pattern. Each dark strip of cream had subtle motifs of shooting stars, little crescent moons and cheery spiraling suns. The cushions seated on each chair and the fabrics of the booths were royal blue and spotted with muted violet stars, all differing sizes, each cleaner than the back seat of an Imp City taxi cab. Plus, no springs popping up to try and fuck him in his little red hole.

He then noticed the bar. A quaint but spacious counter as long as Blitzø's body and tail combined, a simple but pricey cash register at one end, with matching leather stools lined up perfectly beneath it. A large glass case half the size of his van sat at the other end, the inside holding shelves of numerous plates of decadent-looking desserts and pastries that drew an expectant grumble from his stomach.

It wasn't his fault, the last thing Blitzø remembered having that was even close to food was some outdated peanuts and the olives he wiped from some douche who had ordered nothing but martinis that were drier than Wraith in a heatwave.

And he normally hated olives, Christ, he must've been fucked up to devour those things, pit and all. Fuck, did I bang the guy who ordered then too?

Okay, not the priority right now, Blitzø. Especially with the cute little kid in front of you whose dad is definitely gonna throw you out on your ass the minute he sees you -

"Oh! Daddy's awake! Good morning, daddy!"

Fuck.

Blitzø jerked his head up at her cheerful greeting, opening his mouth if only to curse at how his head throbbed in response -

— Only for it to immediately die when he caught sight of "Daddy" coming into the cafe'.

Fuck him twice.

The demon that had stepped into his view was, hands down and pants down if his belt was loosened, one of the most gorgeous demons he had seen.

And the tallest, Jesus Christ.

The owl demon was as tall as a tree, with legs for days ending in jet black talons that clicked delicately against the immaculately clean tiles as he strode over. His body was much, much thinner than Blitzø had expected, delicate and lithe with sinfully svelte curves around his well-rounded hips that he felt an instant, barely concealed urge to wrap his legs around and squeeze. His upper body was just as long, lengthy frail arms that grew like willow branches from his shoulders with dainty but large hands and fingers that reminded him of spider legs as they moved and were just as dark as his feet. They were probably as soft as that little fluff of feathers that peeked out on his chest.

Looking at his face, he was slightly taken aback at the sight of not one but two pairs of eyes peering back, although the second pair were smaller and placed higher on his forehead, just as wide and bright as Via's, but instead of pink they shone with crimson and were as opaque as a ruby. It was obvious who this little girl got her looks from the most; the same dark spot at the tip of his beak, and the same shade of grey blue feathers, only his grew darker in hue as they climbed up his very lean throat, combed into a neat and very trim style that clearly was given a lot of attention. The only blemish to it would be the bold streak of grey that cut through the feathers which easily gave away his age, but somehow that had actually improved his looks as it contrasted the young (and pretty) features of his face.

His outfit wasn’t too extraordinary but still, Blitzø felt himself growing warm at the sight of the white button up dress shirt and the open cranberry pink waistcoat the owl was currently snapping shut dexterously and simple dark slacks that hugged his legs perfectly.

Fuck. I was once woken up with V wearing lingerie that was made pretty much just string but this guy is dressed like a fucking waiter and I wanna lay him flat on the counter.

Blitzø was suddenly that much more thankful for the blanket covering his lap, because he was sure feeling the telltale signs of a growing boner.

Oh well, he was sure it would go away once this guy started to whine about having to deal with a drunken piece of shit first thing in the morning -

The tall owl, even with the slightest of sleep still clinging to it, smiled warmly and brightly at his daughter. “Good morning, my Owlette.” Blitzø felt himself once again be knocked off guard by his chocolaty, silky tenor voice, the sound of it sending pleasant shivers down his spine.

Fuckhim three times, he sounded hot too. Satan, this sucked.

The owl’s pleasant chuckle only added to Blitzø;s horny chagrin. “I see you beat me down to the cafe’ today. I hope you slept well, my Starfire.”

The little “Starfire” nodded happily. “I slept good, Daddy! And so did our guest!” She gestured innocently at the imp, who then tensed at being put on the spot by a kid. “When I came down to check on him, he was snoozing like a kitten!”

Blitzø, of course, made a face. A kitten?

It went unnoticed by the little owl, but not by her father who gave her a stern, but still soft look. “Via,” He started. “You didn’t disturb our guest while he was sleeping, did you?”

“Via” quickly shook her head, he feathers swinging side to side in a flurry. “Mh-mm! No, Daddy, I promise I didn’t! I was real quiet until he woke up and said the bad thing wrong.”

He blinked at her. “The ‘bad’ word?”

“One of the words that Mummy used to -” He explanation was abruptly cut off by her father’s wincing and his hands waving the universal sign for stop. “O-oh, alright, alright, sweetie, I understand, no need to go further!”

Blitzø watched them quietly.

Huh. So pretty boy had post-marital troubles with the little former wifey, huh?

Yeah, that made sense. Aside from his friend’s, Blitzø had yet to see any marriage that wasn’t one step away to instating the “death do us part” vow.

This guy must have gotten out while the getting was still good. But not without a few licks dealt, judging by the signs of wariness on his face.

He mentally sighed. Alright the hottie daddy knows you’re here and first impression has clearly gone to shit so, get ready for take two, dumbass.

Blitzø, deciding that jokes was the way to go in a pinch, then said casually. “I guess ‘Mummy’ wasn’t a ‘fudge’ kinda girl.” He then put on his best smile as he looked straight on at the pretty owl. “Me, personally, always liked the mine with plenty of nuts.”

As smooth as it sounded, he still cringed on the inside. Oof, Blitzø, how lame do you sound right now?

However, to Blitzø’s surprise and relief, the innuendo did not go unnoticed by the only other adult in the cafe’. Both sets of eyes went wide and the haggardness on his face was instantly washed away with a swift, prominent pink flush that Blitzø definitely liked seeing. Next to Via, it was probably the cutest thing he saw this morning. It certainly took the edge off the ass-chewing he was sure to get.

Usually, anytime he cracked any sex jokes around others, he was almost immediately told off by whatever prude or asshole or Karen was in the vicinity (i.e. Moxxie) and who clearly had no sense of good humor. (Like they didn’t start humping on each other’s earlobes the second every one’s back was turned like the hypocrites they were.)

Anybody else who didn’t was either not giving two shits or just as eager to talk dirty after a line up of shots.

But this bird seem reasonably sober. But then again, judging by his frame, he was probably the type of demon to go for light drinks like martinis or cocktails rather than tequila or beezlejuice. Considering the little girl now running up to him and hugging his shins, it was more than likely. He had the bitter experience of always dealing with a parent more often found nursing a hangover rather than an infant and it was an all around shitty experience he had no wish to repeat.

However, right now, he wouldn’t mind getting another peek of that cute ass blush as the bird briefly ducked down to scoop up into his arms. “W-well,” He started, “It’s certainly good to see you awake, Mister . . . ?”

“Name’s Blitzø. The “O” is silent.” Blitzø stated without missing a beat.

The owl blinked. “What ‘o’?”

“Exactly.” Blitzø nodded without thinking and once again, groaned in pain as everything from the neck up throbbed.

“Oh dear, hangover not quite remedied yet?”

Blitzø hissed out a breath. “Yeah, that’s a big fat fff-fudgin’ no.” He smirked weakly at Via’s approving nod. “I feel like I decided to go dumpster-diving outside the nearest Sinnabon’s for a midnight snack-run.” His empty stomach than made itself known by giving an impatient grumble. “And it looks like I’m up for round two so I think it’s about time I get outta here.”

The owl blinked again. “I’m sorry?”

Blitzø carefully climbed out of his improvised bed and unsure of what to do, opted to take apart the bedding and fold it as neatly as he could. “Yeah, I know, I know, I should’ve been out of here hours ago, I get it. Satan knows no-one wants to deal with a hungover dumb-a first thing in the morning. I know I wouldn’t, plus you gotta kid here and I can’t imagine you want some strange weirdo around your baby-girl so I better clear out before -”

The quilt literally rising out of his hands cut him off like a record scratch. The fuck-?

He watched cow-eyed as some kind of blue sparkly whatsit energy surrounded the quilt and untangled the lump he had been making a mess out of. It than began folding itself in a much more professional fashion than his was and as soon as it finished, it levitated right over his head and towards the guys who, judging by the ethereal sheen wrapped around his talons, was making it.

“Mr. Blitzø,” He started calmly. “As the owner of a cafe’, I have often had ‘strange weirdos’ coming in and going out from here every day. Thankfully, most of them are courteous enough to show up around working hours, but I am no stranger to any who who wander in from the late-night crowd, which I’m assuming is where you come from.” His tone wasn’t accusing but Blitzø still frowned at the teasing lilt he definitely heard.

“As for my little Starfire,” The bird continued, nuzzling his daughter on the cheek which earned a giggle. “Via, I like to think at least, is an excellent judge of character, especially more so with strangers. So, if she thinks that you’re trustworthy then that’s more than enough reason to let you stay.” With a twirl of his talon, he sent the quilt through the door leading upstairs to, whatever the fuck it led to as he set Via down on one of the stools after a quick, dramatic spin that earned him another giggle. “At least, long enough for us to feed you a decent breakfast.”

That last bit was definitely NOT what Blitzø thought he’d hear. “Uh, excuse me?”

“Oh certainly, after you’ve been given food of actual substance to eat instead of the leftover, surely bacteria-ridden remains scrounged from a random dumpster.” The big bastard responded blithely as he made his way around the counter, to where Blitzø finally noticed the fancy-looking coffeemaker that made him feel more broke-ass than he already was. “But first, I believe refreshments are in order. Would you prefer coffee or tea?”

The asshole part of him wanted to deliver a pissy comeback at the offer. He was a grown-ass man, more than capable of getting his own food, fuck you very much and no trust-fund, (sexy) long-legged prick had the right to tell him what was okay for him to eat or not – Moxxie already got his ass enough about that, he didn’t need anyone else doing that shit.

Big bitch was probably trying to keep him here long enough to call the cops on him the minute his back was turned so he could stick him with some BS robbery charges just for shits and giggles. Which had happened to him before due to more than one nut-job Karen and/or Kevin.

And of course, since it was fucking Hell, there was only a certain amount of times that you could get arrested and get bailed out before the taxpayers think to simply say “Fuck it” and just take your money and never bother to find your cell keys.

That in mind, he was so not in the mood to bust out of prison again, that one stint in Greed was enough for the next five years.

Well, fuck this bird. The front door was right there and he was not gonna have to put up with whatever bullshit this guy was -

His stomach halted his would-be flipping-the-bird-at-the-bird-on-the-way-out escape with a rumble even louder and more impatient than before. The tell-tale smell of brewing coffee didn’t do anything to help quell it. And damn, did it smell good . . .

. . . . . . Oh, forget it, they dump that dumpster every other day and he was too hungover to spare the effort to drive. Or Look for his van. Or try to remember the name of the club he was at.

“. . . I usually have iced coffee. But right now, I’ll take a regular coffee, as black as blood.”

That request was responded to with a humored smile. “I myself usually take it black as sin, but I’m always up for a challenge.” Turning to the way too complicated than should be normal looking, coffee-making monstrosity, he also added, “Also, forgive me.”

“For what?” Blitzø asked as he came closer to the bar. This close, he could now spot a simplistic yet obviously custom-designed hotplate big enough to fit enough food for five people, flat black surface on one side and a classic stove-top on the other.

“For not introducing myself properly earlier.” A clean, see-through glass coffee pot that Blitzø didn’t even see him pull out appeared in his hand as he whipped out a coffee filter so finely made it looked more like a hankie, bypassing the coffee maker completely. “I’m Stolas, owner of this cafe’ as well as Chef and Barista. You’ve already had the pleasure of meeting my daughter, Octavia, my darling little helper.”

“Daddy says I’m his ‘Suzy Chef’!” Via, also now known as “Octavia”, chirped proudly. Before Blitzø took a seat on one of the stools, he moved as to help her up but she shook her head. Gripping the crank under the seat, she pulled it up and down like a desk chair’s until the seat was low enough for her to climb up. He watched in bemusement as she then adjusted the seat back up. Clearly, they were built with the varying heights of Hell’s diverse demographic in mind.

Not bad thinking, Blitzø had to admit.

“Indeed you are, my Owlette.” Stolas chuckled. Having placed the filter inside a clenex wrapped around a chic-looking coffee pot, he placed a silver carafe onto the stove-top side of the hotplate and flipping the switch. Taking out a bag of coffee grounds that smelled fucking fantastic. “She and I have been running this little cafe’ for about four months now. And if I may so, we’re doing rather well. Granted, we’re not millionaires but I’m certainly not complaining.”

In almost no time at all, the carafe’ started whistling sharply. Stolas took it off and replaced it with a small skillet that Blitzø didn’t see being pulled out either, only to stare unabashedly at the medley of cheeses, meats, veggies and eggs that literally flew in from the entry to what he guessed was the kitchen like it was something of out of a kid’s movie. He knew Via giggling at his face but he forgoed responding to that, as while Stolas attended to the coffee pot, a bottle of oil floated over to the skillet and poured a delicate amount inside with two slices of butter following suite. “. . . Uh, yeah, if you’re good at something, you should capitalize.”

“Perhaps, but it’s not really so much about the money as it is the business of cooking itself.” Stolas said earnestly as he dumped the grounds into the filter and sweeped up the carafe to pour in the hot water in one fluid motion. “I find that this line of work gives me much more gratification than that of my previous occupation.”

“Oh, what was that? Real estate spokesman? Attorney? Phone seee-” Blitzø was instantly reminded of Via’s presence as the little girl hummed happily while folding and unfolding a napkin she plucked from the napkin holder closest to them. “-eeecrecy operator?”

If Stolas noticed the near slip-up, he didn’t comment on it. “No, I’m afraid. Simply one of the cogs of the crumbling, over-heated machine that is known as Hell’s government.” While the skillet started to pop and sizzle, the owl than summoned a sizable knife to finely chop one onion to join the oil and butter. As the coffee grounds were left to bloom, Stolas made quite a show of crumbling up a thick sausage into bits with one hand while simultaneously conjuring an actual clutch of flames in the other hand, selecting a few strips of bacon to cook and crisp in a matter of seconds. Most likely to show off for Blitzø and his daughter who “oohed” at the sight.

Admittedly, Blitzø was a little impressed too, but he’d be fucked by a mime before he ever let on. “Geez, playin’ it up a bit, don’t ya think?”

“Perhaps a bit.” Stolas admitted, not so sorry in the slightest. “But compared to how stoic and quiet I had used to be, I relish any chance to ‘play it up’.” Having deemed the bacon thoroughly cooked, which it definitely was going by the smell, he extinguished the flames and set the crispy strips onto a cutting board for a magicked knife to chop up. Washing his hands in a small sink set by the hotplate, he gestured towards the enchanted parade of flying ingredients, allowing three eggs to gently land on the counter.

Blitzø, at this point, had taken his eyes away from the free magic show in front of him, cool as it was, to quietly observe Stolas’s shapely ass as he bent over to retrieve something from one of the lower cabinet.

Hmm. He could feel the tip of his tail flicking in appreciation. Guess the cake wasn’t only in good in the cases.

He tried to keep ogling as unnoticeable as possible as he asked. “Old job sucked that bad, huh?”

“Oh, abominably so.” Stolas groaned as he fished around in the cabinet obliviously. Eventually, he made a small sound of triumph as he located his prize; a small mixing bowl which he then set on the counter next to the eggs. A crooked finger brought a whisk right into his hand just as all three eggs were lifted and cracked into the bowl and the shells were tossed away. “And all I can say is that I’m bloody well glad that it’s behind me.”

“And now Daddy gets to be the bestest chef in all of Hell!” Via proclaimed, which was rewarded with a loving smile.

“Well, I certainly try my best.” He said cheerfully. He made sure to keep close attention to the carafe’ as it poured more water into the now ready coffee grounds as he beat the eggs thoroughly. As dark, fresh coffee began to drip into the pot, he set the bowl aside to neatly dish the sausage and bacon into the skillet. “I don’t know if anything I make will win any awards, but I wouldn’t mind if they didn’t. As long as I have my Via and this cafe’, I’ll be happy.”

Those words, despite himself, left a deep pit in Blitzø’s stomach.

He was all too familiar with the feeling to know that it wasn’t hunger.

And the cause of it was the warm translucent air wafting around in the little cafe’ that was more potent than the coffee.

And more pointedly, how out of place he felt to even be watching it.

He felt his claws clench the leather of his seat, the fabric creaking softly in response to his tightening grip. The pit felt like it was growing larger, making his shoulders tense. He found himself staring full-on at the clean surface of the bartop and tried to ignore the itch of his spines going erect. For the next few minutes, all that was heard was the sizzling and firecracker-like popping of the skillet as the eggs were poured in, the repetitive sound of coffee dripping and Via humming as she tried to fold her napkin into something other than a lopsided square.

Blitzø took a deep breath through his nose, his lips sputtering a bit like a horse’s (Didn’t he wish) as he exhaled.

“. . . Look, I’m . . . ” He paused a moment to think his words over carefully. The last thing he felt like doing right now was to sound an utter dickhead to the guy who was making him a hot meal for a total stranger.

No telling if he was the type to spit in on the plates of assholes who deserved it.

“. . . I’m sorry for, uhm, for having you make deal with me first thing in the morning.” He managed to get out rather lamely.

He wasn’t sure if the bird heard him. But that didn’t stop him from continuing. “I . . . I had a really, really real sh- crappy day yesterday, and – And I just needed to blow off a little steam.”

Images started to flash unbidden in his head. Of zeroes, of bottles, of bitter looks and smashed frames only made everything in Blitzø had been able to blissfully ignore up until that moment, then chose to rear its ugly head making him let out a barely concealed grunt. “. . . Point is, I-I’m sorry for screwing up your day and -”

He was interrupted by a good-sized mug being set calmly before him. He started as the smell of the dark roast curling in soft puffs and into his nostrils, the scent heavenly and already mending the throb of his head – only to be taken aback at the feel of a large, plush-soft hand petting the space between his horns in a comforting rub.

It took every single inch of Blitzø not to either smack the hand away or bite it off on sheer impulse.

He looked up and instead of what he thought for damn sure was going to be a patronizing sneer, – Because how else would any prick look after patting an imp’s head like a puppy’s? - Stolas’s face was as soft and reassuring as the smile on his beak.

A smile filled with nothing but understanding and warmth.

Sweet Lucifer, when was the last tim anyone had smiled at him like that?

“No apologies are need here, Mister Blitzø.” Stolas said simply. No hint of bullshit. “Nothing’s been broken, nothing’s been ruined. So please, don’t worry. I’m not a demon so easily rattled. Especially by lovely surprises such as yourself.”

. . . . Blitzø blamed the warmth he felt tingling on his cheeks on the steam coming from the mug.

Stolas didn’t comment on it, but he was sure that he heard some not very subtle amusement in his voice as he turned back to his cooking. “Would you like for me to add some peppers to dish? They were freshly picked this morning and I’m sure that they’ll taste wonderfully with the eggs.”

“UH-” Blitzø grabbed the mug and pretended to study it to keep himself from doing anything else dumb. “Y-yeah, sure, whatever, go nuts. I’m good with whatever.”

“Marvelous! I’ll add some as soon as the eggs have cooked for a bit.” Stolas said cheerfully. Blitzø muttered a “yeah, whatever” to his back as the owl reached from some green and red peppers big enough for Via to hold in both of her hands. He then made a small hoot that Blitzø, even with how off-kilter he felt at the moment, found cute. “Oh, and let me know how the coffee is, please. I’m trying a new blend I finally managed to put together a few days ago and I’d love to hear your opinion.”

Blitzø blinked at that. “Wha-? You mean this isn’t instant?”

Stolas shook his head. “Oh no. I try my best to use fresh items whenever I cook. Not that I have anything against instant or frozen food, but, as a chef, I find it almost like cheating if I’m not as authentic for my customers. The last thing I want is to have our cafe’ be mistaken for another Twink Trip or Hexxan.”

Blitzø would have taken a shot at that remark. Namely how if you loaded up gas station coffee with a fuckton of sugar, cream, and booze, it didn’t matter about the quality ‘cause who would give that much of a damn about dirty bean water -

That is, had he not taken a sip out of his mug.

It took a moment of peering down at his “coffee” to think up a much more direct response. “. . . . This is the best damn cup of coffee I ever had.”

“Thank you!” Stolas accepted the compliment cheerily. I admit it took much longer to properly cultivate and grow the beans for it than I had originally anticipated. I mean, I already knew the process was intricate but it’s a whole other experience when you actually attempt it yourself.” Stolas gave a weak chuckle as he prodded at the eggs simmering in the skillet. “I’ve lost count of the amount of times I almost blew up my grinder or ruined my insides.”

Blitzø, taking a much larger sip of his coffee hummed appreciatively. “Yeah, bad coffee can f- trip you up.” He knew that to be true. He once had to get his stomach pumped from drinking brew made by some dumbshit in his RV. That experience wasn’t really as painful as the telling-off Moxxie gave him afterwards. Little bitch always had act like he was right.

He took another big gulp. “You did good, though. Five stars.”

It wasn’t blind praise. Blitzø never bullshitted how he felt about what he drank and ate, (Much to Moxxie’s, Fizz’s, his Sunday Barista or, really, anyone’s annoyance) and the coffee was no exception; heavy and crisp with a balanced pairing of earthy and floral notes, the acidity like berries that left plenty of room for flavor instead of just tang. And the aftertaste didn’t linger like secondhand smoke, it left gradually with a mellow sheen that he didn’t mind in the slightest. Even though he was more an iced coffee guy, this was a kind of coffee Blitzø could see himself drinking again. When he wasn’t hungover, that is.

“Well, I’m thrilled to hear that, Mister Blitzø. Thank you.” Stolas responded gratefully.

By now, he had placed a lid over the eggs to let them simmer which allowed him to focus on chopping up the peppers. The imp assumed that had all he had been cutting up before Stolas turned to delicately slide a plate baring an apple that had been sliced in a way that the core stood erect as a tower with the slices spread open like a flower bloom. Before he can ask how the hell he did that so fast, Via chirped happily before plucking one slice and biting into it with a thank you.

Blitzø found her delight over the piece of fruit adorable, which the baby owl took as an invitation to pluck another slice and offer it to him with a smile. Satan, could this kid get any cuter?

He took the offered slice with a cheeky grin. Only to quickly toss it in the air and catch it with his tongue like an iguana’s, adding a “Bleh!” just for laughs, for which he earned a round of giggles from Via. He had almost missed by being blindsided by the cinnamon and spice flavor that had been baked into it. It had to have been made that very morning if the warmth and freshness of the slice was anything to go by, allowing the fruit to melt orgasmically well into his taste-buds. Wow.

He and Via had had unanimously agreed to split the apple between them, with no objections from Stolas as he busied himself with divvying up the vegetables and summoning other ingredients from the kitchen to prepare accordingly. Via filled up most of the time with chattering on innocently about little things, how funny her dream was last night, how home-school was “five times better than private school as there were less big dummy poop-heads” - Blitzø almost choked on a slice while Stolas lightly admonished her about “language” - And how her daddy once made her the bestest cake ever in the in the whole wide world for her fifth birthday. Blitzø, for as sweet as he found her daughterly praise, had to swallow the gag when she started going on about the “tasty” mouse chunks Stolas had added.

Bird or no, eating mice for Blitzø was a flat out no.

A sudden, horrifying though than popped into his head. Was Stolas going to add mice to his food?

Like mouse sausage? Mice bacon? Rat peppers? Was that a thing?! Or was he just pulling a Moxxie and asking dumbass question?

. . . Probably just being a Moxxie.

His internal debate was cut short by something else being set before him. A damn good-looking something.

An omelet the size of Blitzø’s fist lay before him, hot and steaming and straight from the hot plate. Yellow as can be with spots of golden brown, there were no signs of tears of breakage, with a perfect fluffy layer peeking from the folds stuffed with meat, veggies and oozing cheeses. The artsy fucker had even gone the extra mile and draped the top of it with a thin sheet of mozzarella, some garnish and a couple slices of baby tomatoes. Talk about extra.

“There you are, this morning’s special - ‘Egg On Your Face’ Mega-Omelet, with all the fixings and extra cheese for those unwelcome aches and pains. If I’ve done my job right, it should fix you right up.”

“Like magic!” Via dded with a bright smile. Both men chuckled at her.

“Like magic, huh?” Blitzø smirked. Well, I’ll just have to see about that.

Sure, the eggs may have looked good, but Blitzø had learned all too well that food looking good and tasting good were two totally different things.

What looked like a pile of slop to the naked eye could taste just as good as a five morning star meal served Beelzebub herself. The same thing applied to a plate of fancy finger foods that cost the same as a house mortgage but tasted like cardboard in the end. And Blitzø certainly had more than enough exposure to lousy food like that, thank you and fuck you very much, with no wish to repeat it.

Which he hoped he wouldn’t with this monster-omelet before him.

Deciding not to put it off any longer, he picked up his fork and dug the prongs into the soft-cooked eggs, scooping up a decent-sized bite with plenty of pepper, meat and cheese. After a moment’s consideration, he also speared one of the baby tomato slices. He gave the loaded fork a few blows to cool it, because there was no way he was going to down a maybe-shitty breakfast with a burnt tongue.

He stuck the fork in his mouth -

And his mind was BLOWN.

If there was such a thing as a bit of paradise, than these eggs were the mother fucking proof in the pudding. Or omelet, in this case.

The eggs were cooked to perfection; nice and fluffy to where they melt on in his mouth like luscious chocolate from Lust’s first class bakeries. And the flavor was like a parade in his mouth, from the salty onions, the crisp tomato and the sweet peppers, the numerous flavors sucker-punched his sense of taste without overwhelming the presence of the eggs. The meat inside was spectacular too, the bacon was at the optimum point between chewy and crispy, and the sausage was deliciously flavorful and greasy. His kind of meat, with the right amount of salt and black pepper.

He could barely hold down the pleasurable moan, but did nothing to stop all the muscles in his body from going lax.

Man, fuck trying to go to heaven, the key to fucking Eden’s Gate was right in his head hole.

A bemused coo. “So I take it you like it?”

Blitzø taste-jizzed mind abruptly snapped back into focus. Stolas’s beak was curled into a big, smug-ass grin that made his own fault in to a frown. The owl simply looked at him expectant. Dammit, if the kid weren’t here, he would have gladly told the bird exactly where to shove that grin.

Instead, he gave a disgruntled growl. “Yea, it’s . . . okay.”

Most chefs would have promptly gotten offended by such a dry appraisal of their “masterpieces”, especially if it came from an “uncultured swine” such as him.

But once again, Stolas surprised him by delivering a pleased smile in lieu of a hissy fit. “Well, I’m glad you like it. Eat up now, or it’ll get cold.”

Blitzø chose not to shoot off a shitty comeback, despite being rankled by the “order”. He took out his bubbling frustrations out on his food, picking up the plate and bringing it close enough to begin shoveling the omelet into his mouth like a starving man.

The petty, spiteful gremlin that was roughly, meeeh, ninety percent of his overall personality hoped that such a messy personality hoped that such a messy display would earn at least, would earn a groan of disgust. Always did the trick when he wanted to annoy Moxxie.

However, much to Blitzø’s complete consternation, the owl just gave a small humored hoot and returned to the hotplate with a single crack or insult. Like he didn’t give two shits about his bad manners.

Blitzø internally growled. What an ASS.

. . . A pretty ass, but still.

“I’m glad you’re pleased by my cooking skills.” The big bastard (Yes, Blitzø was calling him that again, suck it.) said happily, busying by wiping down the skillet while beating a new batch of eggs and sliding two slices of bread into a small old-fashioned toaster. “I have to admit, my main specialty is baking and drinks, but I try my best to expand my range of cuisine when I can.”

Once the yolks and whites were thoroughly whipped, there were poured into the skillet and almost immediately they started to sizzle and bubble from the rewarmed metal. “Unfortunately, I can’t cook the kind of food necessary to run a full-fledged cafe’.”

Blitzø swallowed a sizable bite of egg and pepper before asking, “Can’t you just wiggle your fingers and hocus pocus a steak or something?”

Stolas shook his head. “Alas that’s more Lady Beelzebub’s forte than mine. Even my magic can only do so much. Now if this was a flower shop that would be another matter, but it is what it is.”

“I’m glad it isn’t.” Via piped up. “I love Daddy’s cafe’! And I love helping him cook!”

“And you do such a magnificent job, my Owlette.” Stolas’s praise was followed by a small plate of scrambled eggs encircled by toast cut into the shape of flowers and mice, covered in butter and jam. Via took it with a bright thanks, digging in right away with a sparkly pink fork also provided by Stolas. “But sadly, a cafe’ needs more than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and milk to cater to wider clientele. Not that I’m downplaying your talent as a chef, darling.”

“I’s okay, Daddy.” Via said, crumbs dotted on her beak from biting into one of her toast flowers. “I know it’s only because I’m not big enough to use the stove yet.” Blitzø mirrored her smile as she beamed up at him. “Once I can do that, Daddy said I could make even better dishes just like him.”

“Indeed I will, Starfire.” Stolas affirmed. “But for now, I’ll have to settle for looking for another cook. Sadly though -” Stolas pulled a face. “- There hasn’t been one suitable enough to help me run things here.”

“Yeah, it’s hard running the show solo.” Blitzø agreed. “Sucks even more when you don’t have a good crew to back you up. Don’t know where I’d be with M&M.”

Stolas blinked. “Uhm, ‘M&M’?”

Via blinked too. “Like the candy?”

Blitzø snickered. “Nah, Moxxie and Millie, friends of mine and my emplo-” He cut himself off with a grimace. “Well. Who were supposed to be my employees.”

The sudden downtrodden shift that overcame the imp id not go unnoticed by Stolas. “‘Supposed to be?’ What does that -”

“Don’t ask.” Blitzø said curtly. After a second, he added a little less harshly. “I-I don’t really wanna get into it right now.”

Because if I do, I KNOW I’m just going to get pissed off and do something shitty all over again.

“. . . . Alright then.”

Blitzø could hear it clear as day that the bird bastard had more questions, and would more than likely prefer to bombard him with rapid-fire questions like Moxxie would when he wanted to be particularly annoying. But thank Satan, he looked put off enough to put him off.

Small blessings.

The next few minutes passed in silence. The lull of it broken only by the sounds of silverware hitting the plates as Blitzø and Via ate, the drip of coffee as more was brewed in the pot and the subdued sounds of crunching each time either a somewhat concerned Via offered Blitzø a bite of her toast or, returning the favor, when he offered her a bite of bacon or sausage – He learned quick that she didn’t like peppers so much so he did well to avoid giving her any filled-to-the-brim bites. He could only hoped that the reason she liked it wasn’t because the meat that was in it wasn’t made from rodent.

It probably was, though, because . . . Birds.

Eventually, Blitzø had cleaned his plate, a satisfying weight settling in his stomach, he let out a contented sigh, his headache feeling miles better than almost a half hour before. “Woo, that was good. A frickin’ plus.”

The owl’s smiled chased away some of the terseness from before. “Happy to hear it. It’s always good to get good reviews on new dishes.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Quick question, though.”

“Yes?”

Blitzø pointed at the now empty plate. “Level with me – Was there any mice in that? Because, I get it, you and Via are birds, but I kinda draw the line when it comes to eating plague-carrying little turds.”

Stolas tittered at that. “No, no, I assure you, no lovely vermin of any kind was served to you. Unfortunately, I’ve learned that mice are terrible cures for hangovers.”

“What’s a hangover?” Via asked in that no-filter, childishly clueless way that all little hellspawn did.

Stolas, in a perfectly natural response to such a question, was freeze awkwardly. “O-oh, well, erm-”

Blitzø supplied the answer. “It’s like a really bad stomach bug, but for grown-ups.” Giving the little owl a conspiratorial grin, he added in a fake whisper, “Basically, if you eat too much green stuff, your poop comes out greener than Mammon’s butt.”

Via burst into a peal of little girl laughter that definitely brought an easy diffusion to Stolas’s unease, even earning a couple of barely smothered hoots that were poorly hidden by his hand.

Huh. That was twist.

Usually the parents were scolding him at this point, the usual uptight bullshit spiel about “using such vulgar language in front of their innocent little babies, you demented little firetoad!”

Not that he gave a shit because he was a comic genius, fuckyou, Moxxie.

After a bit, both birds managed to quell their laughter enough for Stolas to gently urge Via to head upstairs and get ready for the day. She agreed without protest, stopping only to allow Blitzø to ruffle her headfeathers as he added, “Gotta look cute for the suckers!” That earned him an admonishing look from Stolas that was weakened by his approving smile.

A smile that only grew bigger when Via caught the imp completely off-guard with an unexpected hug, her tiny arms wrapping swiftly and tightly around his waist, almost sending him falling off his stool. Before he could recover, Via was already heading up the staircase, humming cheerfully all the way.

Stolas’s soft chuckle drew Blitzø out of his shock. “Via has certainly taken a liking to you quickly.”

“Uh, yeah, I-I guess.” Blitzø rubbed at the back of his neck. “Last time I got hugged like that, some piece of shit nicked my wallet to buy thirty Bruiser King gift cards.”

“Oh, that’s a pity.”

“Joke was on him, though, he got food poisoning with the first card he used.”

Stolas hummed approvingly as he poured them both a fresh cup of coffee. “Well, I suppose there is such a thing as karma.”

Blitzø barked out a laugh. “Ha! Yeah, and maybe there’s a God.” He accepted the refilled mug, along with the offered sugar and creamers, and dumped almost each one in like an alcoholic adding liqueur. “Uh, speakin’ of, what do I owe ya?”

Stolas, who had added his own preferred condiments to his coffee in much more moderate manner, paused in his blowing at the steam rising from his mug. “Pardon?”

“What do I owe ya? For the food and coffee.” After a moment, he also added with only a tiny wince of guilt. “And whatever else my drunk ass did to your place before I blacked out.”

By emotionally-traumatized principle, he wouldn’t have asked outright. Often times, being the victim of a classist system that shat on those on the bottom rung, he had been subjected to grossly padded bills and unexpected expenses issued by a good percentage of the “well-to-do” owners of “upstanding establishments” where he wound up spending half the night washing up dishes. Once he got fast enough, and only if neither the food nor the service was worth the lightening of his wallet. Blitzø didn’t hesitate to pull a dine and dash; making escapes either through the bathroom window, the vent, or once through riding one of those fancy dining carts into the kitchen and out the employee entrance that admittingly had been fun to ride . . .

. . . Right up until he learned too late that the entrance opened right up to a three-story staircase with no handrail.

Needless to say, that had been one shitty ride to the hospital, Moxxie lecturing him the whole damn eight miles.

After everything – And he meant everything – in his lower body healed, he opted to hold out on anymore dashing. At least until the little baby-dick whineypuss would get off his fucking back about paying.

That aside, he saw no reason to be the deadbeat bun right now. Not when Stolas had been nothing but polite towards him. Even though he certainly didn’t deserve such kindness . . .

He braced himself for the amount as he took a long sip of his sweetened coffee -

“Oh, you needn’t worry – You don’t owe me a sint.”

Blitzø sputtered into his mug, nearly choking on the brew as he processed the owl’s words. “*Cough* *Cough* *Hack* Blegh! Excuse me?”

“You don’t need to pay me.” Stolas restated. “Like I said, you’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve been nothing but civil, you are obviously sorry for any offense you think you’ve given – Not that you have, don’t make that face – And more importantly, Via likes you. So I see no reason to change you.”

Blitzø frowned at him. “You’re screwing with me.” He stated flatly.

“I assure you, I am not. Honestly, your praise over your breakfast was payment enough. In all honesty, you were doing me a favor.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t get a chance to try out new recipes on new faces very often, so any new opinions are always appreciated.” Blitzø felt his face fault at the slow, awfully sensual smile the owl sent him. “Especially ones as sublime as yours.”

Blitzø forgoed looking him in the eye, each cerise eye of his hooded and looking at him like he was going to be the next dish for him to devour, choosing instead to chug down half the contents of his mug. Gulping audibly, he mumbled back, “Glad I was such a good guinea pig for you.”

“I prefer the term ‘freelanced taste-taster’, personally.” Stolas retorted politely.

“I don’t want your charity.” Blitzø bit at him.

“Nor am I giving it to you. Like I said, you did me a favor.”

“How do you know I’m not some thieving bastard taking adventure of goody-two-shoes shop owners like you?”

“I have measures set to prevent such an occurrence.”

“I’m an undercover health inspector and you just failed.”

“Now you’re just grasping, dear.”

Blitzø rubbed a hand over his face. “You can’t just -” He let out a frustrated breath. “Look, I get you’re an . . . Okay guy and you are obviously trying to set a good example for your kid. I get that, but I don’t want to be the lasting impression of what to expect when giving out freebies to poor drunken bitches like me. No one should have to deal with that without getting paid, -”

“Mister Blitzø.”

Stolas’s firm tone stopped him with the sharpness of a smacked ruler. His face was stern, but not completely harsh as he eyes were looking at him with a softness that pricked at his chest.

“You. Do. Not. Me. Anything. And when I say something like that, it’s because I mean it with all the sincerity that is implied. It is not just for the sake of looking good in front of Via and certainly not some sort of dastardly ruse to get you to lower your guard. You’ve apologized and you meant it, you’ve been kind towards my daughter and enjoyed my cooking without bias or sarcasm. That said, believe me when I tell that is something I care for much more than any check or bill.”

Stolas sipped at his coffee calmly, making no comment about the for certain mollified expression on his face. “So, please, no more apologies. They are appreciated, but to be honest, after twenty-two of them, it just feels repetitive.”

Blitzø gave him a look. “Sorry what now?”

“Mister Blitzø -”

“Nah, nah, what you just said, the fuck you mean I said sorry twenty-two times?”

Stolas’s beak dropped into a thin line, taking a moment to maybe think his words over before formulating a response, “When Via and I found you last night, you were in a . . . A great deal of distress.” He was clearly trying to more emphatic than judgmental. “You were greatly intoxicated and horridly incoherent. Once I was close enough, all I could hear was you saying sorry over and over.”

Blitzø could feel himself growing hot from the neck up in embarrassment. The apprehensive caution in Stolas’s voice was doing fuck all to help the crashing wave of shame following up like a speeding train.

He didn’t need Stolas to tell him what he was bawling like a baby over.

But, ever the bottom bitch for punishment, asked anyway. “. . . I say what for?”

Stolas then turned sheepish. “O-Oh well, uh-uhm, I don’t quite recall -”

“Bird, I don’t do any of that hee-haw Shit, it’s too early and I’m still hungover and all I’m gonna do is get pissed off now WHAT did I SAY?”

With two sets of eyes, it was easy to see that Blitzø was not going to give up on getting an answer. Stolas sighed softly.

“You made a great deal of apologies to a great deal of people. I didn’t catch every name but, erm, you had quite the list.” He sipped at his mug, stalling for only a minute before continuing.

“You apologized to a miss Mistly for dinging her car door while trying parallel park by a Wacdonald’s, a miss Queen for breaking smashing her one of a kind pirate ship in a bottle instead of the pinata by accident on her birthday, a miss Millie for chipping her favorite ax, a mister Moxxie for making him run all the way to Greed for a single battery for your TV remote, dropping his guitar fourteen times, borrowing his wallet, or more accurately, pinching his wallet to pay for Voxflix twice, a miss Barbie for stealing one of her skirts and ripping it whilst performing a split, I couldn’t really make out what exactly you were apologizing to a “Vee” and a “Fizz” for -”

“Okay!” Blitzø blurted out. “Okay! I get it! I get it! I was a hot mess, no more shit needed, I got it!” He cringed at the indignant crack in his voice. Christ, like he didn’t look enough like a pathetic shit already. He might as well plan to fake his own death again.

You know what they say, fifth time’s the charm.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Stolas’s weak attempt to reassure him only bounced off of the imp like a ping-pong ball. “It really wasn’t. Really, you should have seen me afterwards when I was binge-drinking.”

Blitzø scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you got real frisky from all those white wine spritzers.”

“Actually, I tended to lean more towards absinthe.” Stolas retorted, with no little bit of sass, taking a small bit of gratification from Blitzø’s surprised. “Of course, with how I was knocking back each bottle, you’d almost believe they were Purgerade drinks.”

Blitzø lifted his head from where he had been pressing it into the bartop. “Damn, how many we talkin’?”

“At least two to three on a good night, or whatever was close to that.”

The imp gave a low whistle. “”Fuck me, bird. I get shit-faced after half a bottle, how the fuck are you still standing?”

“At this point, stubbornness and sheer dumb luck, I believe.” Stolas quipped.

That startled enough mirth in Blitzø to actually make him laugh. “Join the club, pal.”

“I fear I cannot, as I have cut back my vigorous drinking to properly attend to Octavia. Leaving my former occupation did wonders for helping me cub the habit.”

“Bosses sucked that bad, huh?”

“Doubly so, considering it was a family business, sort to speak, although, I can assure they were family in name only.”

“Ugh. Preachin’ to the fuckin’ choir – there’s only so much shitty family a bitch could take in one day.”

“That, Mister Blitzø, I can wholeheartedly agree on.”

There were getting off-track. Blitzø bit his lip. “. . . I’m sorry for my shit.”

“For the final time, no more apologizes are necessary.”

He angled his head towards the staircase door. “I probably scared your kid.”

“Via has seen far worse, I assure you. Even when off your cups, you weren’t untoward her in any way, so you can save any of the claims of indecency that you’ve half-heartedly concocted in that crafty little mind of yours.”

“Just let me fuckin’ pay you.”

“I neither require nor want your money and I promise you, should you try to force any $ouls on me, I will promptly set it to aflame.”

“Lilith’s titties, you’re a stubborn bitch.”

“And you are an equally stubborn spendthrift.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not without dinner, if you please.”

Blitzø groaned. “God, we’re gonna keep talking in circles if you don’t just charge me and get it over with. I’m not fucking broke, I have the $ouls, just let me pay you.”

Stolas’s counter remark definitely caught Blitzø unawares. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s done something genuinely kind for you, hasn’t it?”

Blitzø’s hackles rose instantly at the “innocent” statement. “You trying to say something?”

Stolas merely sipped at his coffee. “Just an assessment.”

“Or you being a dickhead.”

“I made you a free breakfast for which I expect nothing in return. I am being absolutely forthright whereas you are choosing not to believe that I have no ulterior motives. Who, might I ask, is being the dickhead here?”

Oh, this smug bitch.

He had wanted to let loose a snarl that would make the owl falter in his not requested charity streak. He felt the urge already rising in his throat, ready to finally tell off this prick who was seriously starting to piss him off . . .

. . . But could only let out a low whine at the exhaustion of prolonging the one-sided argument, the fatigue of a bad night, getting totally smashed and crashing just as hard setting in. Being still half hungover sure as shit was not helping to keep the spark of pride burning.

If anything, Blitzø felt even more tired.

He wanted nothing more than to lay everything out, pay whatever the fucking bird deserved and drag his broke-back ass back home and lick his wounds from last night. And the only thing that was stopping him was getting through to this royally stubborn and feathery (Not to mention pretty soft-looking) bastard of a demon.

“Alright, look – I want to pay you back, but for some weird ass reason, you won’t let me.”

“I think we have perfectly established that.”

“So we got a problem.”

“Which could be solved by you accepting my putting your breakfast on the house.”

“And it should be clear as fuck that ain’t happening.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

Blitzø blew a breath of air out of his nose. “I’m not just being an asshole here – I don’t like owing people anything. I’ve been dipping in and out of debts for years, financial and personal. And just that fucking recently I finally managed to pay off a good chunk of them only to literally be screwed over again almost the same fucking day. So now I’m once again edging too damn close to bankruptcy for my liking.”

He gave the owl a flat look. “Meaning I can’t take any chances, such as freebies or random handouts, cuz Charity was just as easily turn into high-interest loans with zero time frames for return payments, unless you want to set up an installment plan that involves cutting out pounds of flesh ever week. Obviously, a guy like me can’t afford to look any more fucked up than he is with a chunk of anything missing.

“All that said, do you see what I’m gettin’ at?”

“. . . . I’m starting to.” Stolas said with a considerate look.

“Satisfaction eased through Blitzø’s frame. “Great. Glad we finally got that -”

“All the same, you needn’t pay me.”

And just like that it was gone.

He growled so sharply it would have destroyed eardrums had he done it inside of headphone speakers. “You fuckin’-”

“But since you won’t accept the gesture,” Stolas interrupted calmly. “How about just doing me a special favor?”

“‘Special favor’?” Blitzø blinked. “What kinda -”

A sound not unlike a light bulb dinged in his thank full-no-longer-as-sore cranium.

Oh.

Oh okay.

He gave a resigned sigh. “Hooookay, look, tootsie hootsie, if you just wanted a quick shag in the back all you had to do was ask. But I gotta warn ya, the place I’ve fucked in was a public bathroom that probably wasn’t cleaned in the last year or two, so I’ll probably need to wipe down the goods with something. Baby wipes would be good if got’em -”

“NO!” A spluttered hoot brought his attention back to Stolas, whose heart-shaped features had turned an almost violent shade of crimson in the span of half a minute. “No! No, no! Not that kind of favor, no! I mean I need your mouth!”

Blitzø gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, I got that much, relax.”

“No! No! I mean -” Stolas let out a shaky warble before planting his face into his hands while muttering to himself in fit of bashfulness.

Blitzø just sipped at his coffee, waiting for him to spit whatever he wanted to say out. To his credit, he didn’t stare, knowing from his own share of verbal vomiting moments that doing that would just make his embarrassment worse.

Even though he no clue what the fuck he was suddenly so damn worked up about.

I mean, fuck, if I had a sint for each time I said the “wrong” things, I’d be raking in more money more green than Mammon.

A deep breath. “Forgive me, I’m doing this all wrong. I’m trying to offer you a deal. Something, I hope, will mutually beneficial to the both of us.”

The incredulous look on Blitzø’s face was quickly addressed. “Nothing vulgar or dramatic involved, you needn’t worry. Nothing of the sort.” He took another deep breath. “I would like for to come in again, and try my cooking.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Say what now?”

Stolas made a small noise of exasperation. “As I said, I’m still relatively new to running a business dealing with dining and catering and the like. I’m often pushed into having to spontaneously expand my range of techniques and specialties depending on my success. I know I’m capable, but I know that I can’t just rely on my own opinion and preferences alone. Even more so when I’m attempting new dishes. As such, I need an outside opinion.”

The imp blinked. “And yooouuu think that’s me?”

Stolas nodded. “Very much so.”

“Some fucking rando off the street who broke into your private property, was wasted out of his mind and could just as easily rob you blind despite these so-called ‘measures’ you said you have?”

“Not as ‘so-called’ as you say, but yes.”

“Rrrright.” Blitzø rolled his eyes. “Don’tcha have, I dunno other foodie friends, you can ask? Or maybe just wait for some famous food blogger critic douchebag to to come in and give you a rating?”

“None that would trust to be fair or take seriously, or assume my want for approval is really a want for cheap compliments – that I’m desperate enough to give someone license to either be obnoxiously petty or to deliver the best shallow review that procures them a not so low-key invitation to my bedroom.”

Blitzø grunted. “Asshats.”

“You should see how quickly they recoil as soon as they learn of Via.”

“Fuckin’ asshats.”

“Quite.” Stolas affirmed. “And to answer your other question, yes, I do have others whose say I do value, but I’ve heard relying on the biased does not help one’s credibility. I do appreciate the precious few whom I’m fortunate enough to have as friends, but I need a healthy dose of honesty from outside sources to provoke me to experiment and expand myself.”

“And you think that guy is me?” Blitzø repeated, gesturing to himself crudely.

“Of course.”

“Bullshit.”

“Good gracious, and you call me stubborn.”

“It’s not -” He let out a small snarl.

Seriously? He was still keeping this up? Enough was enough.

“Look, I get you’re trying to be nice, I get that. But, trust me, I’m the last fucking guy you want to be nice to let alone have around. Seriously, ask fucking anyone in hearing distance – I’m a right bastard on a good day and a pushy dickhead on a bad one, I’ve fucked up more people than I’ve actually helped and you would have more sense to shoot me rather than invite me over again. I mean, you gotta kid to think about, and -”

Blitzø shook his head. “And you don’t want me messin’ with your business. The one I tried starting flopped before I even got my feet off the ground. Pretty sure that speaks a fuckton for how helpful I can be towards you.”

He could barely ignore the burning sting of truth in that statement.

Saying all the shit that was a constant boiling inside him all out loud sucked.

It sucked balls.

He knew it was better than letting it all rot and fester like he let everything else – But it still sucked.

Fuck what his therapist said about it being being cathartic. He should quit that bitch.

It’s not like he would be able to pay them for much longer anyway.

Blitzø knew he was not the kind of person to be asked to come back. Even the scraps of friends he had managed to hang on to could barely wait for him to leave as soon as he said hello.

Moxxie was the leading example of proving him right. Even when Blitzø actually adhered to his demands of privacy and properly asking for invites to visit, (That Blitzø still found completely anal of him although he bit his lip) Moxxie was adamant to get him out the door before he could even get two fucks in.

Even Millie, Moxxie’s blast and a half of a wife, who was far more accommodating than her whore-back husband, drew the line when it came to his company being longer than necessary.

That was to say fucking nothing about his own flesh and blood.

Barbie Wire, his twin sister, his other half, would sooner see him six feet under before seeing him again.

Cash Buckzo, his father, never asked for him, never wanted him, and made it a point of telling him so straight to his face more than once.

His mother, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . She sure as fuck would have been better off without him.

And his exes? Those who he didn’t remember or couldn’t care to remember, those he never took a chance on because of him being too much of a pussy to try?”

Verosika? It was pretty fucking clear on how that went.

Fizz?

He was never wanted.

He was never missed.

He was never asked to come back.

Not for a visit.

Not for a drink.

Never just to hang and shoot the shit.

He was always tossed away as soon as necessary.

He was always left behind, pushed aside, shoved into the background.

Forgotten.

Dead for all those concerned.

Dead, except in the way he wanted when he was at the lowest he could be.

No one ever missed him.

No one ever wanted him back.

Nobody.

“. . . . I fuck things up more often than I get them right. There’s a pretty good chance if you get involved with me, shit’s gonna go sideways for you too.”

He wasn’t sure if he had muttered that part aloud or not. Not that he gave a shit.

He halfway expected to be asked to repeat himself.

Or maybe Stolas would curse him under his breath for being such a dramatic bitch.

Maybe he would finally cut the bullshit and be real about what the fuck that he really wanted from him.

However, all Blitzø got in response, was a soft touch at his wrist, soft as silk and just as gentle.

Along with two sets of big cerise rose eyes that crinkled gently at the corners as they held his gaze with calmness and sympathy.

And maybe something else, but that could’ve been that whiny, fractured part of himself making up what wasn’t actually there.

“I’ve taken far riskier gambles than trusting a stranger out of the blue, Mister Blitzø.” Stolas spoke in such a comforting voice. “And I have yet to lose from any of them. Perhaps it’s rather cocky to say so, but since my winning streak has yet to be broken, I think you’re a rather good bet to take a chance on.”

The tender smile, that was nothing short of dazzling, he gave Blitzø at the end such a declaration was a damn good seller.

Satan forbid this man ever works for Vox – cause with that smile, he could sell gas station keys like they were the keys to gates of Eden itself. I mean, if his touch alone could send sparks up my arm like he was doing right now. . .

Fuck him if he knew.

The hand causing such a feeling than gave two soft pats to his wrist before lifting away to grab the coffee pot once more, refilling Blitzø’s mug with still steaming java and the exact number of sugars and creams he had diluted it with before.

“So, how does coming in twice, three times a week sound? I usually close the cafe’ around seven since I try to get Octavia in bed by eight thirty on weeknights. If you like to come by over the weekend, I close around six thirty to seven o’clock depending on how busy I get. Except any catering orders or special events, I’m not fussy over whenever you come over. All I ask is that you let me know when you’re coming by in advance so I can have something ready for you. A day or two ahead would be just fine.”

Blitzø, this time, could not find in him to groan loudly in protest to the blatant hardheaded dismissal of the what seemed like hours long argument. The argument he bitterly realized that he couldn’t fight against.

That did nothing to stop him from throwing his head back and scowling at the annoying as shit clean ceiling tiles above them.

“. . . . . . . You really aren’t gonna give this up, are you?” He said after a while.

“I suppose I’m about as bull-headed as you are.”

Blitzø gave a chuffing laugh at that.

Well, fuck.

What was he supposed to do with that?

What could he do with that?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Fuck it, if the worst happened, he could just disappear again, right?

Not likely Stolas would look for him just for a review, right?

. . . . Right.

“. . . . . . . . . . The peppers and onions were both sweet.”

Stolas blinked at him like the owl he was.

Heh. Cute.

“The omelet was good, but it was kinda over-sweetened; I don’t know what kinda onions you added but personally I would use a more subtle kind of onion to help round out the sweetness of the peppers.”

He let this sink in for a moment before continuing, “I remember seeing you add a green pepper so next time I would recommend using a shallot, maybe about half a tablespoon’s worth should be right. A regular tablespoon’s good too if you don’t use too much of the peppers.”

He sipped at his refreshed coffee. “I personally, like some spice in my eggs to help me wake up, so don’t be afraid to throw some in the mix in the future. Like oregano or basil. You don’t have to go crazy with the amount, though, - just about when you’re making the bowl and a few dashes of it on top when ya put it on the plate. It’ll pair well with the tomatoes and not distract you too much from the rest of the food.”

He took a breath. “Coffee’s good, strong enough to double as a chemical peel, everything any caffeine addict is looking for. The aftertaste doesn’t turn me off from drinking the rest and from how it feels going down I am a hundred and fifteen percent sure you’re a nit-pick bitch cuz I taste how finely you ground the beans without turning them to powder. It’s good ya didn’t because that shit’s only good foe about half hour before fighting to keep your eyes open by either shooting up some dope or knocking back enough 66-Hour-Energy drinks to give the Big B a heart attack.”

Shouldn’t he stop? Maybe he was saying too much. Stolas had asked for honesty and Blitzø was doing his best to deliver it with as little jackassery as possible.

Problem was, for Blitzø, jackassery was his default language, according to practically everyone and their fat mom’s. And, most of the time, he didn’t even realize how much he let slip out before he got a sharp crack across the face. Or a knee to the balls.

He chanced a look at Stolas. If he looked upset, he could take it all back. It wasn’t too late, he could still backtrack -

Tiny stars sparked in Stolas’s wide eyes. Small and bright and beautiful, looking every bit like the twinkling little lights his mom would tell stories to him and Barbie back in their childhood. After the circus ring was cleared of trash and the last Hellhorse was tucked in their stall. Back when, even thought hings weren’t easy, everything was okay.

Before everything suddenly wasn’t.

Stolas, upon noticing Blitzø looking at him, instantly grew more flustered in some odd cacophony of joy and mortification, his plumage fluffing up from the top of his crown to the little floof of feathers on his chest. His hands belated came up to smooth them back into place, unfortunately they did little to quell them along with the rosy blush that tinted his face plate into an eye-catching pink.

Damn, this bird was so cute it was unfair.

The anxious itch in his chest was put to ease right there and then.

This couldn’t actually work, could it?

. . . Could it?

. . . . . . Maybe. Just maybe.

Emboldened, Blitzø sent the owl a lazy smile that easily darkened the pink on his face, matching the warmth the imp felt on his own face. “The apple was like a fucking angel feather, so soft and tasty. You have got to show me how the ever-loving fuck you made it turning to to applesauce ‘cause that shit was better than fuckin’ crack.”

Stolas looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be elated or overwhelmed.

After an awkwardly long amount of time, he clearly had settled on elation. His upper set of eyes turned upward in little crescents as his beak returned the smile with a brightness that Blitzø felt proud of bring out.

“I’d be happy to, darling.”

To be continued . . .

ME: Hey all you sinners & saints! Who’s excited for HAZBIN HOTEL coming out this friday?!?!?!? (Or Thursday if you actually watch it at it’s appointed time) I know I am!

I am SO EXCITED AND DESPERATELY TRYING TO IGNORE THE FACT THIS STORY IS LITTERALLY GOING TO LOST IN HAZBIN HIGH THAT I KNOW IS COMING FOR THE PAST WEEK. AND THE WEEK AFTER THAT. And the week after that . . .

ANYWAYSO, here is the recipe for the Mega-Omelet, which let me tell, just reading the ingredients alone mad me feel full! Also, what do you do for your respective hangovers? Let me know in the comments!

I’ll have the next (& FINAL chapter of this installment) written and posted as soon as I can, so until then, eat hearty, everyone!

Oh, and enjoy your stay at the Hazbin Hotel . . .

[heygerald]

Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 5

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. When he has good news, but no one to share it with, Parker invites him along to her brother's birthday party. A moment of weakness, or a moment for him to prove he's more than just his Hollywood ego?

read the story here: prev / next

"—and Jody said she was going to wear something simple, maybe jeans and a t-shirt, but I'm not really sure I want to match that vibe or go for something a little more, you know, fun. Maybe I could finally break out the bucket hat tonight," Colt's voice droned on from the phone tucked indelicately into the crevice of her neck and shoulder. Parker was only half listening, as was the usual when it came to her brother's incessant rambling about anything related to the pretty blonde camerawoman, and while he talked, she made work of slowly peeling strips of painters tape from the freshly painted wall. The ball in her hand was nicely sized by this point of the conversation. "So, anyway... uh, wait, what was the point?"

"Was there a point?" she mused aloud. "I stopped listening when you started talking about some pony she rode once at her twelfth birthday party."

She heard him snap his fingers. "Right—the birthday party."

"Hers or yours?"

"Mine! Listen, I know that you all put a lot of work into planning this shindig—"

"Shindig? God, you're old!"

"—but I would really appreciate if you told me what to expect tonight. Just a hint will do. I'm not trying to show up wearing dress shoes to a disco if you know what I mean."

Parker stuck another piece of tape onto the ever-growing ball with a blithe snort. "I never know what you mean."

"Park," he whined, much like a child, and not the thirty-something year old man that he was. Was this year number thirty-seven or thirty-eight? She should probably figure that out before putting candles on his cake. "Come onnnnnn. Just tell me. Just a hint!"

"And ruin the surprise? No way, Jose."

"But it's my birthday surprise! You can spoil it for me. I mean, realistically, no one would blame you if, maybe, you accidentally let the surprise slip. It'd be expected coming from you, actually."

She frowned. "What do you mean it would be expected coming from me?"

"Well, you know, you can't keep a secret to save your life."

Parker tossed the ball of tape into the trash and picked up the broom with an indignant scoff. "Excuse me, I am a very good secret keeper."

A long winded and high-pitched whine followed, and she winced at the volume of it. Parker switched the phone to her other ear, certain that between her brother and Melissa she had permanent hearing damage.

"Oh, so now all of the sudden you're a locked vault!" he blathered on. "Where was this dedication to silence when I got sick at Macy Lindwigs wedding and you spent the entire evening telling everyone you could find?"

An image of Macy Lindwig, dressed to the nines in a beautiful handmade wedding dress, staring in horror as her brother puked in an azalea bush three minutes before the ceremony started came to mind.

"Oh, I totally forgot about that," she snickered, the memory almost too sweet to ignore now that it had been brought back up. "You ruined her heels that night, you know. What was I supposed to do? Not tell everyone?"

"For starters. Or, at the very least, you could have refrained from blabbing about it at Christmas," he muttered petulantly. "Grandma never looked at me the same way again. She still won't let me near her rose garden."

"Cause and effect," Parker chirped. "You drank one too many tequila shots the night before, and thus, you have to suffer the fate of Grandma judging you every Christmas Eve."

"Miami Vice premiered the night before!" he argued, shouting, in what she suspected was a deranged manner. Parker hoped he was somewhere public; perhaps a grocery store or laundromat. "Just another example of how you can't keep a secret for the life of you, not even when your brother's good name is at stake. Your only true sibling, might I add."

"And here I thought I was an orphan found in a box."

She could hear Colt kicking something, palm clasped over the speaker as he whined, before he was back. "You're worse than Judas, you know. You ruin lives just for the fun of it, no silver needed."

"Are you offering silver?"

A cough. "Uh, I mean, I'm a little tight on silver at the moment. I think I have a free sub from Publix somewhere around here."

"A coupon. Wow. So generous."

"It's a punch card, and those aren't easy to fill out, you know," he huffed indignantly, obviously put out that Parker wasn't going to accept his lackluster offer. "What if I say pretty please?"

"Ha! Nice try. I happen to like Jody, so even if I wanted to tell you what we're doing tonight—which I don't—I'm not going to. She was really excited to help me plan this year."

Some spluttering followed her resolution, before he was kicking something again. Apparently, whatever he kicked was harder than he thought, however, and the next moment her brother was wheezing in pain.

"Jesus, take it easy, alright? You're going to need your toes for tonight."

In a breathless voice, he weaseled, "tonight at...?"

But Parker was no novice when it came to keeping secrets from her brother, and so she didn't fall for the trick. "Ha, nice try," she snorted while stooping to sweep her pile of dust and paint chips off the ground. Shades of green and white stained her hands, but she didn't bother to clean them off. It would be a pointless endeavor, after all, considering what they had planned for Colt's birthday party later that evening. "I'm trying to stay on Jody's good side."

"Both of her sides are good sides," was his immediate response, something wistful coloring his tone. "She's gorgeous. If you haven't noticed."

"Trust me," Parker deadpanned with a blithe glance at her own disheveled appearance, "I've noticed."

"Do you think I should bring her flowers?"

"To your birthday party?"

"Girls like flowers. Plus, she's planning the whole thing."

"I helped!"

"I'm not bringing you flowers to my birthday party, Park. It's not about you, you know."

"Right, of course, how could I have forgotten?" she deadpanned. However, despite his disinterest in showing her any gratitude, Parker smiled at the concept that there was a man out in this world so infatuated by a woman, that he not only spent all his time talking about her, but he also wanted to bring her flowers for no good reason. If only she could find someone like that who wasn't her brother. Wishes and wants, she supposed. "As nice of a thought as that is, don't bring her flowers tonight. They'll end up wilted by the time she gets back home from the party. If they aren't totally trashed first, that is."

His tone pitched higher, eagerly. "Trashed? Why would they be trashed? Are we doing some floral vandalism tonight? Oh!" Colt cried, hands clapping together. "Are we going to a wreck-it room? I've always wanted to do something like that. You know, somewhere that wasn't on a set, anyway, where I'm being beat up for a living with props."

Parker covered the speaker of her phone to curse at herself. While she hadn't ruined the surprise, Colt was like a dog with a hambone, and was not likely to let it go anytime soon.

She cleared her throat and attempted indifference. "Not even close," she said, but it didn't sound super convincing, and with an exasperated huff, she threw her hands up. "Jesus, Colt, you're going to get me into trouble! Just chill out. Jody should be picking you up soon, anyway."

"Picking me up soon for...?"

Colt's whining was interrupted by the tinkle of the front bell, and as she switched her phone back to her right ear, Parker took a moment to scoop up the paint-splattered tarp sprawled across the floor.

Melissa had been on to something with her suggestion to repaint the store, and while they had only gotten the walls finished over the past two and a half weeks, the mossy green color with gold accented picture frames really gave some life back to her shop. It still had that musty smell, as well as a pair of flickering lightbulbs from the janky electrical sockets, but they were definitely taking a step in the right direction. The color made everything feel cozier, and once they coated the bookshelves with shades of blue and yellow and replaced the overhead fluorescents with something warmer, she thought it might look like an entirely new store for the price of a few gallons of paint.

Not to mention the color stood out from the recent tan and brown trend that had swept across Hollywood hills. Win, win.

"Ugh! Stop trying to spoil your own surprise and let it happen, alright? You're going to love it," she pacified half-heartedly while booting a stool out of the way. Too deep of a breath had the smell of laquear and paint fumes killing off some braincells, and Parker dropped the tarp along with the rest of the paint materials with a cross-eyed huff. "Plus, it was all Jody's idea, so if you hate it, I would keep that to your..."

Parker paused halfway up the aisle.

On the far end of it, a brown and black colored dog sat patiently wagging its tail at her. Its tongue was sticking out of the side of its mouth, but despite Elon Musk's predictions about the existence of intelligent life in the galaxy, she was pretty sure that the local population of Hollywood mutts had yet to grow opposable thumbs capable of opening a door.

She blinked at it.

"Er, listen," she muttered into the phone, gaze darting past the dog, but not seeing its owner. "I have to go. There's a dog situation that I need to take care of."

"A dog? I've been asking you for years to get a dog, and now you finally decide to get one on my birthday! That's so totally fu—"

Parker hung up before he could complain any further, and slowly tucked her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. The dog barked at her, as if excited to finally have her attention.

"Er—hi. Did you—how did you get in here?" she asked.

It responded by tilting its head to a ninety-degree angle. She stared, waiting, as if the language barrier would suddenly disappear.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't. The dog barked a second time.

"I don't have any treats on me," she said again, not sure else what to say, but certainly feeling like she should say something. It trotted towards her, and though it seemed friendly at first, when it stuck its head into her crotch to take too deep a sniff for comfort, Parker jumped backwards. "Ah—fuck! Buy a girl dinner first, huh?"

She sidestepped the dog, hands splayed out in front of her like she was a robbery victim, and did her best to avoid being felt up as the dog followed her towards the storefront. It nosed her rear end, and Parker let out an undignified squeak.

"Jesus! I know the humane society is underfunded and all, but this is a little ridiculous, don't you think?" she asked it.

The dog darted in front of her, nose going right back for the crotch, and Parker just barely managed to leap onto Melissa's sunken reading chair when an increasingly familiar head of blonde hair stepped out from behind one of the bookshelves.

"Talon, Jean Claude," he said, and as though the dog hadn't just been harassing her, it plopped down onto the floor right beside him. Dog and owner blinked at her in bemusement. "Don't seriously tell me that you're afraid of dogs."

Parker shot him a disgruntled glare in response, but Tom didn't seem to mind the heat packed behind it. Instead, he smirked at her, crossed one arm over the other, and languidly leaned back against the front counter.

It was obvious he was laughing at her, and not with her, and Parker added it to the list of all the things she couldn't stand about Tom Ryder. Worse though, she couldn't help but subconsciously smooth a hand over her hair, because where Jody was effortlessly gorgeous, Parker required quite a bit of effort not to look awful. And right now, with paint-stained pants, a half-assed pair of dutch braids, and miscolored converse, she was certainly not showing him her good side.

If she even had one, that is.

"I should have known you would have a pervy dog," she said while looking down her nose at him. Literally, too, considering she was still standing on the chair. Parker flushed a bright red at the realization and none-too-glamorously clambered down onto her feet. "And French, too. I think that's stereotyping, Ryder."

Despite the distrustful look she shot the dog, he seemed a whole lot less pervy and rabid now that she knew he had an owner, and when she approached it, its tail flapped back and forth excitedly.

"Insulting an entire country?" Tom harrumphed as she started to scratch the dog between its ears. "Maybe you should sit through PR training with me next time Gail hosts a session."

She blew a bland raspberry as she read the dog's name tag.

Jean Claude. Huh. Cute.

He let out a low whine when she hit a particularly sensitive spot, and in delight, he rolled onto his back with half-lidded eyes.

"Is this the one you were talking to the other day, or do you have any other expat mutts that I should know about? I can only be felt up so many times before I file a harassment complaint."

"Jean Claude isn't a mutt," he corrected her, disdain at the very idea of owning a mutt. Parker supposed adopting a kennel-dog was likely below him, being a superstar and what not. "He's an Australian Kelpie, pure-bred, and he certainly wasn't fucking cheap. His parents are award winning cattle dogs in the Australian circuit."

"That's an award category?"

"Hmph. Laugh all you want, but I'd bet he's better trained than you are. He's even trained to attack someone in the balls on command."

"So am I," she sassed while making kissy faces at Jean Claude. "Oh, he's cute. Yes, you are. Yes, you are," she cooed.

He ate it right up, tail flapping in every direction, and when she spared Tom a glance, she could feel the jealousy rolling off him that someone else was getting more attention. Dog or not. Parker snickered.

"Sorry you're stuck with this one," she added, jerking a thumb over her shoulder to gesture in Tom's general area. "But trust me, you're way cuter, and probably lower maintenance than he is."

Tom cleared his throat. "Are you done?"

"Jealous?"

"Of a dog?" he deadpanned, rolling his eyes beneath a pair of expensive Ray Bans—not at all disproving the theory—and Parker smiled at her private joke. "Hardly."

She leaned closer to Jean Claude, and spoke in a stage whisper, "I think he's jealous."

And—yup—that seemed to do it.

Tom pushed off the counter with a sharp huff, unamused by her teasing, and make a command in French. Jean Claude bounded onto his feet, trotted to where Tom was, and curled up between his legs.

Parker stood and planted her hands onto her hips. "Real mature."

"I can always show you his attack command," Tom threatened. "I doubt you'll find him as adorable when he attacks you. It's always a hit at parties, watching someone get their balls bitten off."

"I think I'm missing a critical component for that trick to work," she pointed out with a dry smile. "But, anyway, what are you doing here? If you came to return my books, they're yours, considering how much you paid for them the other day."

He shrugged. "Maybe I want my change."

"You came all the way here, through traffic, to get your change?" she echoed, clearly disbelieving his piss poor excuse. Under her stare, Tom shuffled uncomfortably on his feet. "Hm. I thought I was supposed to be the penny pincher between the two of us."

"Maybe it's not the money I care about. It's the principle of the whole thing."

"Ha! You expect me to believe that you have principles?"

Tom huffed, but she caught the crooked upturn of his mouth. Still, he played the victim—always acting, this one. "You're right. I don't just deserve change. I should get a full refund, considering how awful your book recommendations were. Not to mention the books practically fell apart when I touched them. Clearly, you sell cheap products."

"Clearly," she muttered, while flipping the sign on the front door from OPEN to CLOSED. There wasn't much going on outside, anyway, and she doubted she would be missing any customers by taking the day off early.

"You want to tell me what you're really doing here? Because we both know you liked my recommendations," she said matter-of-factly, moving to the cash register now. She had made a few sales throughout the day, more than a typical Friday, and so she carefully began stacking her receipts. "I mean, who wouldn't? Those are good books I gave you. Contact is in my top ten."

Tom leaned on the counter. "Books I bought."

She waved him off, stack of receipts in hand, as she locked the lower cabinet. Tom could complain all he wanted, but she did know that he liked her book recommendations. He had finished them all within a week, when he likely should have been spending more attention devoted to practicing for his audition. Granted, it was a sci-fi movie he was auditioning for, but—

She startled.

"Oh, duh!" Parker sprung to her full height with a curious look. "Did you get the part?"

Tom smirked.

It wasn't bashful or pleasant or soft like authors typically described their tall, dark, and handsome characters, but it was so very him that she hardly minded it. In fact, Parker sort of liked it. It crinkled the soft lines by his eyes, loosened the tension in his shoulders, and made him look younger. Nicer. Cuter.

"Of course I did," he sassed. "I told you I was going to get it."

She ignored his blatant peacocking to punch him in the shoulder. The action seemed to shock him, and Tom clutched the spot with his other hand—as if she had done some real damage—while Parker grinned. "Holy shit, that's great! I mean, sure, you were a shoo-in or whatever, but this is a big deal. Right? It's a big deal? You must be jumping off the walls right now!"

Tom gave a bemused huff, eyes darting over the length of her face, and nodded. "Biggest movie I've gotten yet," he said. "My first sci-fi film too, so, that's going to get my name out there even more than it was. I mean, if I thought I was well known before... after this, everyone will know who Tom Ryder is."

"That's awesome!"

Tom rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm, clearly not buying into it, and though Parker was so excited on his behalf, Tom seemed like he was fighting off indifference to the news. "Yeah, well, a role's a role, you know."

"Well, yeah," she hedged, waving a hand at him, "but this is your first sci-fi role, and it was one that you even told me you wanted to get. You must be at least a little excited for it. Sci-fi is so interesting, I bet filming it is gonna be a ton of fun."

"Sure," he echoed dryly. His smirk had returned, and though she wouldn't necessarily classify what his face was doing now as a smile, it was certainly close. "Fun. That's what I'm aiming for in my career: fun."

"Oh, please," she clucked her tongue at him, receipts shoved hastily into their folder. "You can be a huge movie star and still have fun doing it. I mean, isn't that the point? Doing something you love and all that. I'd imagine it's going to be a whole new experience for you, stepping into a sci-fi set."

He hemmed, mouth twisting between a smile and a frown. "I guess."

He didn't sound all that convinced. In fact, when Parker thought about it, she seemed to be far more excited about the role than he did. She tilted her head at him suspiciously. "Alright, well... what are you doing to celebrate?" she asked. "A vacation? Buying yourself a new car? Oooh—Legoland?"

He furrowed his brows at her in surprised. "Legoland?"

"It's what I would do," she shrugged. "Probably, anyway. I've never been because the tickets just don't seem worth the price, but if I had just landed a giant role in a giant blockbuster, I think buying a ticket would be the least of my worries. You could probably even write it off on your taxes."

He blinked at her. "Poor people are so sad to me."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and took delight in the way that he huffed in amusement. "Well? Come on—make me jealous—what are you doing?"

Tom shrugged. "Gail's throwing a big party next week to announce the role. She always does that. Invites her producer friends and talent agents and that sort of stuff. There'll probably be some sort of attraction, singers or a zebra or something."

"Casual," she snorted.

"She has a weird thing for exotic animals, I don't know."

"Seems like it. But that's what she's doing, what are you doing?" she needled further. "I mean, I assumed you would do a big party with your friends before then. You know—cops get called, party crashers—the whole scene."

Tom hesitated to answer, and when he did, he didn't sound all that much like himself. "Well, I can't really do that—she controls when I make go public with the news—has the whole timeline figured out, and manages all the press for it. She doesn't let me tell people ahead of time."

"I'm people."

He rolled his eyes. "You're a nobody," he said. Not to be mean; no, Tom was very clear in his words when he intended to be mean. Instead, he had said it nonchalantly, as if it was a universal truth that everyone understood. And, in all honesty, Parker got it. "I mean, who are you going to tell that would care, you know?"

"Okay, ouch," she muttered still, before barreling on. "Don't you have any non-work friends that you can go get drinks with?"

"All my friends are work friends."

"What about people that don't know Gail?"

Tom huffed and waved a hand at her. "That's the same thing, you know. She introduced me to everyone I know in the industry. Other than some set hands, we have the same circle."

Parker sank onto her heels, feeling slighted on his behalf, but knowing that she didn't really have a right to. Surely, Tom Ryder would have stood up to Gail if he didn't like her hands-on, helicopter parent approach to managing his life. And clearly their work relationship was beneficial to them both. He certainly didn't need a nobody like her feeling sorry for him.

And yet, she did.

Because, as she listened to him talk, it felt like he had to give up everything just to be a somebody in Hollywood. And while it might have been the norm for him, it was absolutely not the norm for everybody.

Did he even realize that?

"Fuck that," Parker said before she could think better of it, emotions getting the better of her. Colt always joked that she had a bleeding heart, but she had never thought there was anything wrong with that. "Come hang out with me, then."

Tom arched a brow at her, mouth parted dumbly. "...what?"

She shrugged, feeling a little like a specimen beneath a microscope, and struggled to explain herself. "I mean, you just said that Gail doesn't want you telling anybody that matters, and I only hang out with people that don't matter in the grand scheme of Hollywood politics. I'm getting ready to head to Colt's birthday party after this, and if you're not doing anything else, you may as well come with me. It won't be a celebration for you, obviously, but... it'll be fun."

He blinked at her slowly, surprise written in the fine lines of his face.

"We're not going to murder you," she huffed indignantly.

"I—I never hang out with Colt or those guys."

"Yeah, for good reason. They all sort of hate you for being an asshole on set to them. Like, all the time. I wouldn't want to hang out with you outside of work either, if I was them."

He scowled. "Oh, well, when you put it like that," he huffed. "Obviously, they're not going to want me to come. And, I may be an asshole, but I try not to gatecrash birthday parties."

She waved his concern away with a paint-stained hand. "First off, you won't be gatecrashing, I'm literally extending an invite. And secondly, they only hate you because you're a prick on set. What better way to prove that you're not a prick, by coming to Colt's birthday party, and—you know—actually being nice for once. Just don't be a dickwad. Or an asshole. Or any sort of thing that you usually are on a normal day."

"I think the saying is 'always be yourself'," he deadpanned.

"That absolutely doesn't apply here."

"Smartass."

Parker nudged him in the shoulder with an exasperated look. "Come on! What else are you going to do? Do some irresponsible spending and buy everyone a round of drinks. I bet they'll think differently of you after everybody is a few beers in."

Tom didn't seem too convinced with her logic. "Crashing his birthday party doesn't seem the best way to get on Colt's good side. I didn't even know it was his birthday."

"Now you do," she shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal. And—well—her brother was probably going to bitch about Tom's presence at the party, but Parker also believed that after a few shots of liquor, everyone would get over the issue fairly quick. Not to mention the party itself was designed for stress relief. Bringing Tom may actually make the night. With a conniving wiggle of her brows, Parker tried again. "I know for a fact that there's room for one more. Jody and I planned the whole thing together, and if she's allowed a plus-one, so am I. Jean Claude can even come. Colt loves dogs."

Tom seemed to sway a little further with her reasoning, and with a slow nod, he finally agreed. He certainly didn't look happy about it though.

Parker punched the air. Oh, Colt is going to love this.

"Awesome! Give me a minute to lock up, and then we can go."

"Fine," he huffed, not too unlike that of a sulky toddler. "But I'm driving."

Parker smiled. Her car was a piece of shit that barely worked on a good day. She was going to insist he drive in the first place. Plus, now, she could get really drunk.

"Fine by me," was all she said, not eager to give away that piece of information just yet. "Just promise me you won't be an asshole. I won't be able to keep my reputation of favorite sister if you ruin the night."

"I'm not going to ruin the night," he snarked with a petulant glare. Parker shrugged, grabbing her things, as he asked, "...wait, I thought you were his only sister?"

"Exactly. Now, come on, I want to get there before they start assigning teams."

The bell rang as she stepped outside, Jean Claude trotting with her, and Tom hesitated for a brief moment before what she said caught up to him.

"Wait," he called, jogging after her. "What do you mean teams?"

---

Tom's presence did not go unnoticed. In fact, it had taken a mere three minutes before Jody was elbowing her to the side, a stern, disbelieving look furrowing her brows. She had let it go in a huff, however, when Parker pointed out that Tom had promised to be on his best behavior, as well as promised to buy the first round of drinks once the game was over.

That had been a lie, of course, but she supposed she could deal with that tantrum later.

Colt, on the other hand, hadn't been so easily placated, and as the twenty odd players stood in a circle, listening to the instructor drone on about safety, he weaseled next to her with a glare.

"I can't believe you brought Ryder," he hissed for the third time that night, hot breath on her face. She would have shoved him away if the instructor hadn't already reprimanded then twice for being distracting. "I mean, seriously Park, I can't stand the guy."

"Oh, really? I couldn't tell."

"Really!"

"Well, I'm sorry," she shrugged, although the apology was half-hearted at best, and Colt seemed to know this as he narrowed his eyes at her irritably. She huffed. "What was I supposed to do? Leave him behind?"

"Yes," Colt whisper-yelled. Dan glanced over his shoulder at the pair, and in perfect Seavers' sibling unison, they plastered fake smiles onto their faces with a friendly wave. He shook his head at them, but likely didn't think they were worth whatever trouble they caused, and faced forward once more. "That's exactly what you should have done!"

"It's not that easy," she argued, hissing as well. "He looked so sad! Like a little abandoned puppy dog that had just been kicked. It was a moment of weakness!"

"Oh, really?" Colt drawled. Together, they glanced over at Tom to find him ignoring everyone in the group with his head stuck in his phone. When a fly buzzed too close, he swatted at it with an icy glare. "That? You couldn't say no to that?"

"I said I was sorry!"

Parker's voice hitched higher than she intended, and the instructor paused in his speech to glare at the duo. She gave him a weak smile in return, mouthing, a guilty, sorry!

The man only got two words back into his speech, however, before Colt started whining again.

"Look, I'm totally stoked about the surprise party, okay? You did a stand-up job on it and the guest list. So how could you fuck it all up so close to the finish line?"

"What the hell does that even mean?" she asked in bewilderment. Parker shook her head. "Seriously, you need to update your sayings."

"Update my—?" Colt bit off a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose to take a long, overdrawn breath. "Why was he even at your bookstore? Since when did you two become friends? What happened to the whole—asshole, asshole, asshole—bit you had going on?"

"I still think he's an asshole," she shot back. But, well, when she caught Tom's gaze across the grass, she faltered. Did she think he was an asshole at his core? Or had he simply become someone she was beginning to understand—a dog that lashed out when someone got too close? Parker rubbed circles into her temple. "And we're not friends. And, even if we were, you have no one to blame but yourself."

"Myself?" he echoed in disbelief. "What do I have to do with this?"

"You're the one that gave him my phone number."

Colt snorted, shaking his head at her. "Fat chance of that," he said. Parker, thinking he was joking at first, fell silent when he caught the look in his eye. But, if Colt hadn't given Tom her phone number, then who had? she wondered, mentally counting down the list of people it could have possibly been.

Bigger fish to fry, she reminded herself when the list made her go cross-eyed.

"Whatever. We're not friends or buddies or whatever you think we are, so you can stop worrying about that."

Colt snorted. "Oh, sure you're not. He just happens to hang out around your bookshop and you share recommendations and, oh yeah! You bring him as a plus-one to my birthday party!"

Parker scowled. "I made the guest list, I think I have a right to bring someone along with."

"Sure, someone. Not Jaws over there."

She frowned at him, thrown off by the random insult. "Jaws?" she echoed, crinkling her nose distastefully. "What does a shark have to do with this?"

Colt sighed. "No, not the shark, the James Bond villain."

"That's a stupid name for a villain."

"I didn't write the damn thing."

"Okay, well, maybe he has the arrogance of a James Bond villain, but at least pick one from this century."

"Silva?"

"Nah. Whose the the one with the weird eye?"

Colt hummed thoughtfully, gaze darting over towards Tom. "Le Chiffre?"

Parker snapped her fingers and pointed at him. "That one!"

"Yeah, alright, I'll give you that," he conceded, nodding. "He does give off Bond villain vibes with the sunglasses and hair-do."

"Right? Oh you should have seen these glasses he was wearing last time. They were huge, and yellow tinted; like Tony Stark would wear. They were so ridiculous."

Colt snickered for a moment, enjoying mocking Tom with his sister, before realizing that he was currently mad at her. He threw his head back with a subtle groan. "Stop doing that! I'm still mad at you!"

Parker gave her brother a blithe look. "I think you're looking at this all wrong."

"Wrong? What other way should I look at it?" he snarked. "With my eyes closed?"

Resisting the urge to smack him, Parker instead gestured to their instructor, the paintball gun in his hand, and then towards Tom. "You literally get the chance to chase down and shoot, Tom Ryder, bane of your existence or whatever. Shoot him. Think about all the welts and whining and, maybe, if you're lucky, the tears you can get out of this experience. Legally. Without getting fired or arrested. What's better than that, huh? It's your very own personal rage room."

Colt considered all of that silently. He swept his gaze from the large pile of paintball guns set off to the side, to the acres of arena in front of them with inflatable obstacles, and then to his blonde alter-ego sulking at the edge of the group.

He slung an arm around Parker's shoulder with the boyish grin. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Parker snorted, amused by his mood swings. "Not nearly enough. It's all Jody this, and Jody that anymore."

Jody, having finished listening to the instructor's demonstration, peered around Colt's shoulder to blink at the siblings. "What about me?"

Colt and Parker shared a silent look.

"Nothing," she said, whilst he cooed, "just talking about how pretty you are."

Jody blushed a bright rouge instantly, and Colt obviously took pleasure in that when he slung his other arm around her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he let out a happy sigh. "My two ladies. Paintball. The smell of tears and blood on the horizon. What better way to spend a birthday?"

Parker glanced at Jody, expecting her to roll her eyes, but the camerawoman instead just smiled with something soft in her eyes.

Parker responded by wiggling out of Colt's reach. "Ew, blegh, that's disgusting. They say cooties are contagious you know."

"What on Earth are cooties?" Jody asked.

"An STD," Colt replied, only half joking, and though Jody appeared mildly disturbed by his joke, Parker had known her brother long enough to appreciate his odd ball sense of humor. "And they're not contagious if you have a shot."

Jody, not wanting to know if he was serious or not, let it go as the group slowly filed forward to get their guns, face masks, and coveralls. They followed shortly after, snickering like kids the entire way through.

In the end, Colt and Jody both got white, while Parker and Tom were given black ones.

Karma, she supposed, is that she wouldn't be able to shoot the asshole after all.

"Somehow, this is a step up for your usual clothes," said asshole chirped, pinching the baggy material hanging at her waist between his forefinger and thumb. Parker swatted him away, only for Jean Claude to bark at her. "Easy, you want to get taken down before the game even starts?"

"Please, you're lucky we're on the same team," Parker teased. He didn't seem to buy it if the blithe look he shot her was anything to go by, and she huffed at him. "I bet I could have gotten the first hit on you if we weren't on the same team. I have mad skills at paintball, Ryder. Seal Team Six type stuff., you don't even know."

Tom rolled his eyes at the same time that Colt reappeared, face mask propped on the top of his head, looking just a tad too comfortable in his onesie. Jody and Dan flanked him, and Parker didn't like their smiles one bit.

"What?" she asked.

"You suck at paintball," Colt egged. "Remember Tallahassee? You were covered in welts for weeks!"

Tom snorted, and Parker considered him the greater threat considering the fact he was standing closer to her than Colt was. She glared at him to state, "I'm not joking. I could literally take you out. Any of you," she added with a stern point of the finger sweeping through the group. "All of you!"

Not a single person believed her.

Tom went so far as to snicker at her. "I don't buy that. for a second. You're a total klutz."

She gasped. "Am not!"

Colt raised a hand. "Are too. Remember when you broke your ankle trying to play hopscotch?"

"Just—stay out of this!"

He did not, in fact, stay out of it. "What was it you said, Park? Cause and effect? You suck at sports, and the effect of that, is you're about to go down on the course."

She blew a rather wet raspberry at her brother. "Please, if you and Tom were on the same team, I would smoke both of you."

They bickered for a moment, amusing some, but boring Tom, and the A-lister broke up their argument with a long-weary sigh. "Oi! Whose to say either of you could get a shot on me?" he taunted.

The siblings turned to face him.

"Is that a challenge?" Parker asked, hands planted on her hips, whilst Colt raised his brows.

Tom shrugged, unconcerned.

"In fact, I bet I'll make it a whole round without getting shot once," Tom tacked on, ego puffing his chest out as he smirked at the group standing around. Dan rolled his eyes, while Jody coughed into her hand to hide an obvious laugh at his showboating. "I'm serious. First one to hit me gets five hundred dollars—"

Thwack! Thwack!

Tom gaped at his chest, now dotted with one yellow and one blue splatter. Parker and Colt stood in front of him, guns still smoking, and while his eyes widened in anger, the pair of siblings were more concerned with claiming the prize to notice.

"First!" Colt cried.

"What? No fucking way," Parker argued. She waved at the yellow paint splatter haphazardly, almost taking out Jody as she did so. "I was so first. Tom! Tell him!"

Tom, now even more unamused by their bickering, blinked in wide-eyed disbelief at them both. "Are you fucking serious?" he shouted. "The game didn't even start yet!"

"But you just said—"

"I meant during a match. Christ, Parker, we're on the same team," he blustered, attempting to wipe off the paint, but only managing to smear it further down his chest like a bad Jackson Pollock painting. "Fuck!"

Colt, sensing a blow-out was coming, swung his gun behind his back with a wide eyed, innocent look. "Hey man, it was all her," he started. "Totally uncool. And immature. And, really, if you need me to smack her around a little after this I totally can."

Tom glared at Colt, effectively shutting him up in seconds, before turning to Parker. Everyone watched in baited breath, nervous what he might do, and while Parker hadn't been on set long enough to know what his meltdowns looked like, the ones most familiar with Tom were left stunned by his reaction.

Or, really, how utterly tame this one was to the hundred others they had seen.

"Are you happy now?" he asked.

Parker hemmed and hawed for a moment before deciding that honesty was the best policy. "I mean, I'd be happier if you gave me my five hundred dollars."

"I'm not paying you shit."

"Oh, come on," she rolled her eyes, popping a hip as she did so. "It's not like you're cash poor or anything. You're just upset that I shot you."

Tom gaped at her in disbelief. "No shit!"

Parker, shifting her gun over her shoulder, waved the other at him blithely. "You'll get over it once the game starts. It's—heh—surprisingly therapeutic."

"Shooting me is therapeutic?"

She paused, caught up in her own statement. "Er, well, not you exactly. Just someone, in general, you know." Parker swallowed when Tom continued to stare at her. Awkwardly, she laughed. "Just... wait till you get out there, and you'll see."

Tom remained silent, blinking at her for a long, tense, moment before he rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh. And—

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

His gun went off before anyone could stop him, and Parker gaped at the trio of yellow paint that was now splattered across her chest. "Fucking ow!"

Tom smirked at her, blowing the muzzle of his gun for extra flare, before swinging it over his shoulder. "Huh. I guess you're right. I do feel better."

"Asshole!"

"Yeah, well, takes one to know one, right?" he snarked.

And—oh.

She could kill him. Really, seriously kill him.

But, well, the longer she stared at him and he stared at her, eyebrow cocked and a daring smirk in place, Parker realized above the hatred simmering in her chest, she felt something kindred and wanting flutter like butterflies. Something amused by the curve of his smirk, flushed by the scorching burn of his gaze, and—dare she think—understanding at the retaliatory strike. She had, afterall, shot first.

He had only lowered himself to her level; played by her rules.

And with a strong suspicion that Tom Ryder wasn't so much an asshole as he was just looking for someone to understand him, Parker's only response to that was to throw her head back and howl in laughter.

Despite this, no one else moved for a long moment, too busy darting their gazes between Parker and Tom in case they needed to intervene, but in an even more surprising turn of events, he laughed as well. Not so outright, and not nearly as loud, but he did. Prompted by his positive reaction, it wasn't long before Colt started to laugh, and then Jody, and then suddenly everyone was knelt at the waist in laughter.

It wasn't until their instructor honked a blow horn at them, none too amused with the pre-game warfare, that they calmed down. He honked the horn a second time at Parker and Tom, threatening to kick them out if they kept breaking the rules, and while they managed to stay straight-faced, the moment he turned his back on the group, they shared matching grins.

Maybe, she thought as they got into place, it hadn't been such a bad idea to bring him along.

And maybe, her brother thought at the exact same time, Parker and Tom being friends wasn't the end of the world.

[versadies]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN || CLOSURE

SYPNOSIS (of chapter). in which you thought you were getting better.

SYPNOSIS (of series). breaking up with your first love was heartbreaking, but not as heartbreaking as getting invited to his wedding after years of not seeing him. that is, until things seem to be easier when you encounter a certain guest, who could end up being more than just a blooming friend to you.

CHARACTERS. kamisato ayato, diluc ragnvindr, and thoma (w/ gn!reader)

CONTENT. fluff/angst/no-comfort, swearing (dropped the f-bomb 3 times), mentions of violence (almost getting hit/slapped), sh1nsuke 🤢🤢🤢, mentions of yelling, mentions of threats, mentions of jeanluc, reader is an emotional person

PENPALS. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii @mrkamisato @shenhesl0ver @serami00 @serenareiss @hiqhkey @emperatris-rinaka @bystander36 @irisxiel @ladycoleigh @034ven @dear-dairiess @owozi8 @hadesaedes @chiro-chiro-kun @hersscherofyatta @mariusvonhangme @yuzuricebun @hoshikistarlette @solaaresque @crowbird @lordbugs @flowersforayato @headintheclouddd @estelwrld @giyusimpsassemble @irethepotatosblog @moonlightaangel @alice0blog @shotosbrainrot @sniffoat @chihawari @mxsomn @kuni-kuzushii @jiminscarmex @mitsukii14 @nejibot @ylimeprive @sachispet @loreleis-world @sn-owo @starforecasts @someonetookmynamelmao @ceylestia @lychme @ymikkos @reallysporadicarcade @elychee @astrxlis @denkineptune @franini @sophisticatedleslie @thedivinepriestress @smashsubs @httpmitsuya @bl6o6dy @cottonkendi (visit this post if you’d like to be tagged!)

WORD COUNT. 6.4k words

LINKS. EVERMORE MASTERLIST \ MAIN MASTERLIST \ EVERMORE SURVEY

POST-SCRIPT. AAAAA after 3-4 weeks, i finally updated !! super sorry for the delay, ill try and see if i can publish the next one next week during school (no promises tho) 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

PREVIOUS || NEXT || VERSADIES’S VERSION (PROCEED THIS LINK FOR FLUFF LOVERS)

The next day after all has happened, Zhongli noticed how you seem to be… happier. 

You really weren’t lying when you told him last night that you and Diluc have been getting along pretty well, because you surely never seem to take your eyes off of your phone as you type out responses to your newly found friend the whole time in the hotel room. 

By the time you take your eyes off your phone is when you came out of the hotel room to do your activities for the day, such as eating breakfast, taking a stroll around the garden once more, visiting the convenience store once again, hanging out with a friend of yours by Good Hunter, and so on. 

The thing is, all of these had one thing in common. 

Besides a certain experience, you kept seeing a certain red-haired man to the point where it’s no longer a coincidence. Do you two just really have the same schedule or something? 

As you lined up for the buffet with your plate in hand, you were tempted to grab your phone and check if you received any message from a certain man, still smiling from enjoying your last conversation with him on the phone. 

It wasn’t until you hear someone clearing his throat behind you when you turn around from recognizing it, causing your eyes to brighten at the sight of the familiar man you’ve been talking to for the past hour earlier. 

“Diluc!” You greeted happily. 

“( Name ).” He greeted, also pleasantly surprised.

“I thought you were out for work already! Didn’t you mention you often go to Angel’s Share early?” You ask curiously. 

He nodded in response. “I do. Just not today it seems, I have something important to do today.” 

The two of you started picking your foods by the time the food is now displayed in front of you after taking a step forward, choosing what you want to eat for breakfast all the while chatting with Diluc – a major difference a few days ago when you and the man were suffering from the awkward silence between you two. 

Turns out, Diluc supposedly had a plus one, but the person wasn’t able to make it due to not having time, hence how he finds himself being alone. Today, however, is the day when the plus one visits the hotel just to greet the wedding couple and wish them well, who will be leaving tomorrow for their honeymoon. 

You’re curious to know who his plus one is, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it’s someone as important and highly regarded as him. 

Once you two finished picking your meal at the same time, you started heading towards where Zhongli is, who’s waiting for you to come at last. You paid no mind how Diluc is following you, perhaps he’s heading towards his table as well that’s in the same direction as yours. 

“You could sit with me and Zhongli if you want. You two seem to know each other back then before we visited your establishment.” You offered with a smile, carefully holding your plate in fear of dropping it. 

He shakes his head. “Oh I’ll be alright. Mr. Zhongli has visited Mondstadt back then a few times and would come by for a nice tea and brunch. Though, he tends to have his chatty friend with him whenever he does.” 

You can’t help but grin when he mentioned the chatty friend. “You mean Venti?” 

Diluc nodded. “Yes. He usually comes around to drink a lot of alcohol. It’s a miracle he didn’t get any sickness from drinking so much.” 

You visibly imagine Venti drinking lots of alcohol, causing you to laugh at the thought. “Well I’m not surprised to hear that. He seems the kind to do that.” 

Before you knew it, you’re finally at your table, causing you to stop your tracks instantly and bid Diluc goodbye before sitting on your seat. If it weren’t for you noticing Zhongli waving at you as well as Diluc slowing down his walk, you would’ve not noticed the fact that you almost walked past your table thanks to you being distracted with your conversation.

“Let’s talk again next time. Enjoy your meal, Diluc.” You said as you watched Diluc giving you an acknowledged nod before walking away to where his table is. 

By the time Diluc is long far away, Zhongli decides to speak up after taking a sip of his tea. “You know, I was starting to think you were too busy being indecisive on your food, but I suppose I was wrong.” He said with amusement. 

You chuckled, picking up your eating utensils. “Consider yourself lucky that I wasn’t in the mood to eat seafood, lest I decide to tease you with it.” 

You feel satisfied seeing the cringe look on his face, grinning to yourself as you take a bite of your food. 

–

After eating breakfast, you and Zhongli went back to your hotel room and got ready for your first activity. While your friend is getting ready to go somewhere, you decided to go visit the convenience store to buy some snacks. 

You wanted to try something new this time, so you decided to choose snacks that are from Mondstadt instead of Liyue or Inazuma. Of course, you wouldn’t forget the ones Zhongli wanted, particularly another certain drink. 

“It’s a non-alcoholic drink called Fruits of the Festival.” He says as he zips his bag that contains the things he needed. “Venti recommended that we drink some now that there are a lot of them in stock for the celebration of the upcoming Weinlesefest festival.” 

With that in mind, perhaps you should’ve taken into consideration that the drink would possibly be out of stock soon , because by the time you encounter the aisle that supposedly contains the Fruits of the Festival, there was only one bottle left.

Just as you’re about to take the bottle, you didn’t notice how someone else was reaching out to it as well, causing your hand to touch his. 

Surprised, you look at the person who’s getting the same item as you, only to be even more surprised when you realize who it is. 

“...Diluc?” 

“( Name )?” 

You can’t help but let out a laugh, not believing that you saw your friend again coincidentally. “Oh wow, I didn’t expect to see you here! Are you trying to get this one?” You asked, gesturing to the drink you’re still touching. 

He hums in agreement. “Don’t worry, I could always get the other one.” He said, about to let go until you immediately let go of it. 

“Ah no, no, no! It’s better if you take this one since it’s the last one. Consider it a payment for letting me have the grape juice last time.” You said with a laugh, gesturing to the man to take the drink.

He shakes his head, letting go of the drink. “It’s fine, you can take it. I wouldn’t want you to miss out tasting something such as the Fruits of the Festival.”

You refuse to get the drink. “Oh come on, it’s better if you’re the one who’ll get this.” 

“No, no. It’s fine.” 

“Just get it, Diluc.” 

“I prefer you getting it.”

“No you–”

Suddenly, someone else takes the drink in front of the two of you, causing you to flinch in surprise. 

“Brother Albedo! Is this blue drink the one you’re talking about?” A little girl with a red dress says before running towards where her brother is with the drink in hand, leaving you and Diluc stunned. 

“...”

“...”

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh man, this reminds me of what happened back then.” You said, remembering the way you and Diluc fell into the same situation and kept insisting on who’s taking the drink.

His lips twitch upward. “Likewise. We really have come a long way after that.” 

You nodded in agreement with a smile. “We have. Though it’s really a shame none of us got the drink. I’m sure they’ll restock soon.” 

“We can visit tomorrow if you’d like.” Diluc offers. “I’m sure my plus one will be asking to go visit the store to buy some together, you can join us.” 

You shake your head. “Ah, no need! I wouldn’t want to bother you catching up with whoever your plus one is. I’m sure I’ll eventually be able to try it when I hang out with my friend later.” 

He nods in understanding. “Very well then. I hope you’ll enjoy the drink. If you somehow weren’t able to drink it, you could always visit Angel’s Share. It’ll be available today or tomorrow.” 

Your eyes brighten, remembering the delightful establishment. Now that you think about it, you do miss their drinks there – so it wouldn’t exactly hurt to go there before you and Zhongli leave to the airport. “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again, Diluc.” 

“See you next time, ( Name ).” 

Then you two parted ways, unaware that next time is very much later. 

–

After coming back to the hotel from the convenience store, you were itching to go visit the garden after passing by the entrance. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to wait there for your friend instead of here when it’s time for you two to hang out.

Which is what led you to immediately get ready for your hangout once you finished unpacking the things you bought from the store.

“How do I look?” You ask Zhongli as you come out from the bathroom, now fully dressed for your brunch. “Do I look alright?” 

You watched as your friend looked away from his book, looking at your outfit carefully before nodding in confirmation with a smile. “Yes, you look great.” 

You sigh in relief, grabbing your bag from your bed to start packing up your things. “That’s good. What will you be doing while I’m gone?” 

Zhongli shrugs in response. “I don’t have any plans for today, but a walk around the garden would be nice later.” 

“Alright. I’ll be back in a while.” You said, checking your phone for any messages (from a certain man) before putting it inside your bag. 

“Have fun, ( Name ). Don’t forget to tell Diluc I said hi.” He said with a chuckle, remembering what you told him about the wine tycoon today. 

Your mouth opens agape. “Wow– Alright, whatever. Have fun too, Zhongli.” 

As you zip your bag closed after getting all the things you need, you immediately head towards the door. Maybe I should try taking pictures of some of the scenery, You thought to yourself. 

Fortunately the trip to the garden didn’t take long, and by the time you entered the hotel’s beautiful garden, you delightfully inhaled the fresh air. Thank Celestia it’s a good day today, you thought, looking around your surroundings. 

As you walk around the area trying to find a place to sit on, you bring out your phone to take a few pictures. You were so fascinated with how each flower looked amazing in the pictures you took – with the lightning and atmosphere bringing ethereal energy to your pictures.

While admiring the pictures you took, you didn’t notice a person walking towards the same direction as you, causing you to accidentally bump into them. 

“Ah, so sorry!” You said with a yelp, maintaining your balance. “I didn’t mean to bump into you–” Your eyes widens when you realize who you bump into. 

“The apologies are all mine, I should’ve watched where I was goin–” The red-haired man’s words slowly trail off when he hears your voice, now realizing who’s in front of him.

“..Diluc?” 

“( Name )?” 

You let out a laugh once more. “Oh wow, I can’t believe this! I’m starting to think this isn’t a coincidence now – since when have you started visiting the garden?” 

“Just now. I wanted to see what it looks like during the daytime. What brings you here as well?” 

“Ah, I wanted to take a stroll around the garden while waiting for my friend to come and pick me up so we can go have brunch. This place is really beautiful, isn’t it?” You replied, keeping your phone aside. 

He hums in agreement. “It is.” 

You then thought of something. “Wanna walk around the place together while I’m waiting for my friend?” You asked. 

“I don’t mind.” He said with a nod. 

And so, you two continued where you left off from last night in the garden, talking about Weinlesefest as you wait for your friend to come. 

Throughout the stroll, Diluc explained to you all the things you needed to know about the upcoming festival. Apparently, the Weinlesefest festival is more about making new wine as they invite their Archon to drink with everyone. So it makes sense that someone like Diluc, whose entire business and establishment is famous for the amazing wine, is currently thinking of something that could make good wine.

He also explained about what you could do if you participate in the festival, particularly visit Springvale and explore around the place since it’s where the festival will be held. Ah, just hearing all the things you could do and eat made you want to consider extending your stay, but alas, you think one week in one of your favorite regions is enough for you. Besides, even if you decide to extend your stay, only Celestia knows what would happen to you once you’re back to work. 

While you converse with your friend, you couldn’t help but notice the way he looks as though there’s something in his mind. You didn’t find the guts to ask him though, thinking you’re meddling into his business if you do so. Still, you’re a bit concerned that something bad happened and you want to at least help – it’s the least you can do for everything he did for you. 

Before you could bring up and ask what’s on his mind, you hear someone calling out your name. 

“ ( Name )! Over here!” Your eyes light up when you hear the familiar voice of your friend, causing you and Diluc to turn around and look at the person who’s calling you. 

“Thoma, there you are!” You greeted, walking towards the blonde-haired man who’s also walking towards you. “And here I thought you weren’t gonna show up any time soon, what took you so long?” 

Thoma spreads his arms wide as you give him a hug. “Aw man, I’m sorry for being late! I was busy helping Ayato out with preparing for his next trip, I didn’t notice that I was about to be late.” He explains. The two of you quickly separate each other from your hug.

He looks at where Diluc is, causing him to stand up straight and offer the tycoon his hand. “Hello! You must be the infamous Diluc Ragnvindr. A pleasure to meet you!” He says with a smile. 

Diluc didn’t hesitate to shake Thoma’s hand, giving him an acknowledged nod. “Likewise. I would like to congratulate you for your efforts in this wedding, it’s truly amazing.” 

The blonde-haired man lets out a bashful laugh. “Oh you’re too kind, Mr. Ragnvindr! I hope I wasn’t bothering you two, did I?” 

You hesitantly look at Diluc, who remains the same expression as always, before looking back at your friend with a smile. “Ah not really. We were just talking about the Weinlesefest festival until we heard you.” 

“That’s good to hear. I’m a bit disappointed that I won't be able to experience the festival though.” Thoma lets out a sigh. “Oh well, there’s nothing we can do about it. Mind if I take ( Name ) away, Mr. Ragnvindr?” 

Diluc nodded in response. “Of course since that’s what they’re here for. I’ll see you next time once again, ( Name ).” 

You gave the red-haired man a grateful smile. “See you next time, Diluc. It was fun talking to you!” 

–

The purpose of your brunch with Thoma is simple. Catch up with one another, talk about the things you’ve missed in Inazuma while you talk about the things he missed in your trip. 

So why, why do you feel so bothered? 

Despite being able to listen to your dear friend and keep up with your conversation, your mind lingers on Diluc. You’re still worried about how he seems to be out of it back in the garden – is it perhaps because of how he needs to think of a new wine? 

“You know, I’m glad you and Ayato had spoken to one another about what happened back then.” Thoma confesses, causing you to be taken back by surprise. “I hope you won’t be offended with what I have to say but.. You look happier than before.” 

You raise your eyebrows from his words. Happier? 

“I… I didn’t notice that.” You replied, letting out a small laugh. “Am I really that happy because of how me and Ayato have resolved?” 

Thoma lets out a small laugh as well. “Well, that’s just my guess. Did something else happen that made you happier than that?” He asks. 

You took a second to think about it. It’s true that ever since you and Ayato have made up, everything's been going a bit well for you, but then again, it’s sort of weird how you’re a lot happier about it than normal. 

Is it… really just because of that? 

Seeing how you hesitated, Thoma’s eyes slightly widened in surprise. “Wait, did something actually happen?” 

You look away from Thoma, a bit flustered. “I-I really don’t know either!” 

“Really?”

“Yeah!” 

“Then… It’s not about someone, is it?” 

You begin to scratch the back of your head. “Well… I did become friends with Diluc…? That’s the only thing that happened besides me and Ayato talking each other out about what happened.” You said, looking at your friend while you fiddled with your fingers. “He’s fun to talk to, I’ll admit. I had a lot of fun for the past few days thanks to him.” 

The blonde haired man nods in agreement. “I can tell. Every time I look at you during the bachelor and reception, you look like you’re having fun talking to him,” He then lets out a laugh. “It honestly reminded me of back then when you and Ayato were still pining for each other.” 

You look at him in confusion, still smiling. “Huh? What do you mean?” 

“Well for starters, it’s the way you’re looking and talking to him. You always pay attention to him and everything he says that you don’t focus on eating your food or your surroundings much — I was able to see you while I was hosting the bachelor party.” He explains. “...Of course, I’m sure you don’t see Mr. Ragnvindr that way though, right?” 

You slowly glance down at your food, processing his words carefully. 

…Huh. 

You didn’t notice how Thoma’s face slightly fell from how you didn’t answer his question. “...You don’t see him that way, right?” He repeats. 

You want to answer yes, but something is holding you back. You don’t understand, you don’t really see Diluc that way right? You two are just friends – and yes, there were some moments between you two whereas your new friend made you feel… things – but that’s normal, right?

This feeling… Isn’t surely the same as what you felt towards Ayato back then, is it?

Then again… When was the last time you had fallen in love? 

You wipe your now sweaty palms on your lap, starting to feel a bit conflicted from your thoughts and feelings. Even if you are in love with him, how could you even deal with it? How can you even face him knowing your feelings? What if you end up being heartbroken? 

But if you aren’t in love with him, why does that make you feel.. Unsatisfied? 

You can’t help but think about him, and you realize you’ve always been thinking about him for the past few days. He makes you happy obviously, there’s never a dull moment with him besides when you two first interacted with one another, and he’s understanding and gentle. The gentle look he gives you as he respectfully treats you well makes you feel… something.

He also treats you equally and always manage to get along with you despite your differences to one another. Not to mention how you always smile whenever you think of him, something that Zhongli had pointed out one time — and how you couldn’t help but always get excited at the thought of what’s to come for you and Diluc the next day—

Oh.

Oh.

Meanwhile, Thoma tries to think of a way to change topics. “It’s alright if you’re unsure, ( Name ).”

“No, no, it’s fine.” You quickly reassured your friend. “I just.. Didn’t realize it until you pointed it out.” 

“So.. you do love him, do you?” 

You stayed silent for a few seconds, unsure how to break it to him. “...He makes me feel things no one has made me feel for a long time.” 

“…Does he make you happy?”

You nodded in response. “He makes me the happiest I can be.” He made me realize there’s always a chance, a chance to love. You thought.

Thoma hums in understanding. “I see. Then I hope you get something good from rhat.” 

You smile gratefully. “Thank you. Though, I feel bad our conversation went this way, we were just laughing a few minutes ago.” 

He quickly lets out a small laugh. “Oh it’s no problem. At least you found something you didn’t know, right?�� 

You nodded. “Yeah, thanks again, Thoma.” 

“Anything for you, ( Name ).” 

You decided to try and change the topic, clearing your throat. “Uh, anyways, wanna share Good Hunter’s newest dessert together?” 

Thoma nods with a smile. “Fine, but you better not finish everything in one go.” 

“Hey!” 

–

It took perhaps another hour before you and Thoma decided to get the bill and get out of the restaurant. Unfortunately, your friend won’t be able to join you in going back inside Goth Grand Hotel once he drops you off, telling you how he has some things to do for Ayato and Chisato before they go off to their honeymoon destination. 

As you enter the hotel lobby, you can’t help but think back about what happened during your brunch with Thoma. What will happen between you and Diluc now? Will you still act the same as before, aware that your feelings for him are possibly more than platonic?

While thinking, you didn’t notice someone behind you heading towards you until you felt them harshly gripping onto one of your shoulders.

You turn around, wondering who on Earth would be so rude to do such a thing, only for your eyes to widen when you realize who it is. 

“Good afternoon, Mx. ( Last Name ).” Shinsuke greeted you with a smile that’s obviously fake. “I apologize for bothering you on this fine day,” A lie, “but I must request you to come with me somewhere more private.” 

You hesitated for a moment, knowing the risk if you said yes. But even so, who’s to say what could happen if you turn down his request? 

You look around the area, trying to look for someone who can notice your troubled situation and help you, only to unfortunately find no one around. If only you could’ve convinced Thoma to escort you back to your hotel room…

“...I suppose I could spare some time for a chat.” You said, trying to act calm. 

You suddenly feel an eerie presence looming behind you, causing you to glance at your back and see a few bodyguards standing behind you – as if to prevent you from running away. Unlike the ones who were stationed for the wedding events, these particular guards were foreign, with strange but somewhat familiar symbols on their brooches. You could tell they’re not like the bodyguards you’ve seen.

“Perfect.” Shinsuke comments, and you start to regret accepting his offer. “Come with me.” 

Without letting you reply at all, the man turns and starts walking, causing the bodyguards behind you to shove you in order for you to follow, leaving you no choice but to oblige. 

On your way, you hoped that you would at least encounter one of your friends, frantically glancing around the hotel lobby looking for a familiar face. Unfortunately, you finally arrived at what you assume is a private room. 

You’re going to be alone with Shinsuke and these scary bodyguards. 

“Before we can go in, I have one more thing to request of you.” Shinsuke spoke up before he could open the door. “Take your bag away and give it to one of the guards.” 

Your eyes widens, hesitantly looking at the bodyguards behind you, who all remain unfazed and emotionless. Slowly, you take out your bag from your body and pass it to one of the guards. 

“Don’t worry, they won’t open your bag and look through your things if that’s what you’re worried about. We just need to make sure you won't try to... record anything and break our privacy.” Shinsuke said in a nice tone, as if that’s enough to reassure you in this situation. “Let’s go inside now.”

You feel fear crawling up on your spine as you enter the room, unsure of what’s going to happen to you. 

The room is a conference room, with multiple chairs surrounding one long table as one of them is situated by the end of it; you assume that chair is where he’ll be seated. 

“Go sit down here.” He says, pulling back a seat that’s right in the middle. “We have a few things to talk about, it won’t be long, don’t worry.” 

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you carefully went to where the seat is, trying to contain your frantic breathing in order to hide your fear. The bodyguards that were following you both are situated outside.

By the time you sit down is when Shinsuke starts talking, not sitting down on a chair. “Now that we’re in a more private area, let’s start talking, shall we?” 

You nodded slowly. “..Is there a problem, Mr. Hiiragi?” You ask carefully.

He laughs, starting to walk slowly around you. “Straight to the point, I like that.” He comments. “Yes, there is a problem, Mx. ( Last Name ). I'm sure you remember our conversation yesterday.” 

Your breath hitches; he proceeds to explain more. “You see, this wedding is a very precious event to the Hiiragi Clan. Everyone thinks the lovely couple is perfect like straight out of a fairytale, so I like to keep it that way.” You watch as he brushes one of the chairs as he walks by. Did he find out about you and Ayato? 

“So when someone reported to me that they caught sight of you walking back inside the bachelor party venue together with the bride – who didn’t bother hiding the fact that she was crying – I have to make sure all’s well.” He adds. 

His eyes then narrow. “I hope you understand where I’m coming from, and I fear that you might take the opportunity to taint the Hiiragi name and accuse that Chisato is unhappily married to Kamisato Ayato.” 

You shook your head frantically. “N-No, I wouldn’t dare to do such a thing to my friends.” 

“How should I know if you’re telling the truth? And before I knew it, the media would talk about how Chisato had unwillingly married the CEO of the Yashiro Company because of you and your schemes!” 

“I am telling the truth, Mr. Hiiragi! I wish nothing but happiness for the couple.” 

“As if that’s enough to do so.” He lets out a “tsk”, glaring down at you. “I have no choice but to get rid of you. Who knows when you will eventually risk tearing down my reputation!” 

You gasp aloud, immediately standing up from your seat. “Get rid of me?! But Mr. Hiiragi, that’s too much! I haven’t done anything ever since the bachelor party happened–”

“You dare to raise your voice on me!? Did you forget your place, or shall I remind you?!” He exclaims. You panic when he suddenly storms towards you, his hand slowly raises up to hit you. 

Suddenly, the door opens, causing the man to stop himself from hitting you and look at the intruder. 

“Was I interrupting something?”  

Your eyes brighten when you recognize the person’s voice, and you look at the intruder who’s standing by the doorway. 

“O-Oh, Mr. Ragnvindr!” Shinsuke spoke, his tone is now nice and kind unlike a few seconds ago. “What a lovely surprise. I was just having a special meeting with Mx. ( Last Name ) regarding the wedding–”

“I’m here to talk about your pesky bodyguards who aren’t doing their job right” Diluc spoke, his voice dark and cold – a big comparison to his gentle tone when he talks to you. “I was just passing by when they suddenly confronted me and dared to lay a hand on me for no reason.” 

You saw the way Shinsuke’s eyes widened, his eyebrows furrowing. “What?! How unprofessional of them! Where are they now?” 

Diluc opens the door wide. “Feel free to go check on them. I had to defend myself since they tried to fight me. Had this happened to someone else, I fear an innocent person would get hurt by their recklessness.” He scolded Shinsuke, who hesitated from his offer to check on the bodyguards. 

The elder man glances at you, causing you to freeze up from his glare. “This isn’t over yet.” He mouths before looking back at the red-haired man. “I apologize sincerely on behalf of my bodyguards. I’ll make sure it won’t happen ever again.” 

“Good. Now leave.” 

Begrudgingly, Shinsuke heads out from the conference room. By the time the CEO is out of your sight, Diluc looks in your direction.

You feel your shoulders starting to relax. “Diluc.”

His eyes softened. “( Name ).” He then gestures to you to come with him. “Come with me. Let’s get you out of here.” 

When you come out of the conference room with Diluc being by your side, you’re surprised to see the sight of Shinsuke standing over the bodyguards on the ground, some groaning out in pain while some were out cold. Just what did Diluc do to them? 

You dare not to question it, you’re just grateful that he saved you from Shinsuke. 

As soon as you two are somewhere where most people don’t come to in the lobby, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’re holding. 

“Are you alright?” Diluc asks worryingly, giving you your bag you didn’t know he was holding. “What happened back there?” 

You slowly grab your bag from him, avoiding his gaze. “I… I don’t know.. He just took me to that room and threatened me for something that happened in the bachelor party. I wouldn’t dare to do that to my friends.” You clench your teeth at the audacity the cruel CEO has. “I’m just grateful you were able to come by before something happened. How did you know I was there?” 

“I saw one of the guards holding your bag.” He answers honestly. “I recognized it was the one you were carrying when we were taking a stroll around the garden, so I had to investigate. Did they hurt you?” 

You shook your head. “Mr. Hiiragi was about to, but you made it in time before he could hurt me.” 

Diluc’s eyes slightly widened, before quickly narrowing his eyes at the thought that someone would dare to hurt you. “How dare he.. I knew he wasn’t good news.” 

“It’s fine… None of us could’ve predicted he would do something like this.” You mumbled. It was technically a lie, you knew someone like Shinsuke would do this, but you didn’t want your friend to be worried and angry. “Thank you for your help, Diluc. I owe you a lot.” 

“Anything for you.” He replied. He suddenly puts a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you, causing your heart to start beating fast while your cheeks begin to warm up from his words and gestures.  “You don’t owe me anything. Just… be more careful, I don’t want you to get hurt by someone as cruel and despicable as him.” 

You nodded slowly, your mouth twitching upwards. “I’ll try.” 

“Were you heading towards your room?” He asks, and you hum softly in response. “I could escort you back there if you’d like. Just in case Mr. Hiiragi dares to come to you again.” 

You shook your head. “Oh I don’t want to bother you. I think I can go back on my own.” 

“I insist. It would hurt me if something bad happens to you again when I could’ve helped you.” He insists. “Come.” 

“...Thank you again, Diluc.” You spoke softly before the two of you started heading towards the elevator area that’s across the hotel lobby from where you are.

The two of you didn’t say a word to one another while you’re walking, but you didn’t mind. You were still shaken up by what happened. Who knows when Shinsuke will try to bother you again? What if he comes to Liyue and ruins your life? 

“Will you be alright, ( Name )?” He suddenly asks, causing your worrisome thoughts to fade away from his voice. 

Before you could say anything, someone suddenly called Diluc’s name. 

“Diluc?” 

You look around the area to look for the person who was calling your friend, spotting a woman standing not too far away from where you and Diluc are with her eyes brightening. 

“There you are! I was looking around for you.” She spoke, walking towards you two with a smile on her face. “Did you just get out of the hotel room?” 

You can’t help but admire the woman who’s now standing in front of you two. She’s quite beautiful, you admit. Is she perhaps a friend of Diluc? Or an acquaintance of his in the business world? 

Or… Is she his plus one? 

Diluc shakes his head. “No, I just happened to come across a friend of mine and got distracted. Did you wait for too long?” 

The woman shakes her head as well, smiling reassuringly. “Ah no, don’t worry. I just entered the hotel.” She then looks at you. “Hello, what’s your name?” She asks you politely, causing your eyes to widen a bit in surprise. 

“Oh uhm.. My name is ( Name ) ( Last Name ). It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms…?” 

“You can call me Jean. Thank you for keeping Diluc company while I was gone. I feel bad that I wasn’t able to attend the wedding.” Jean said. 

Ah, so she is his plus one. 

You try to ignore a strange feeling bubbling in your chest. “It’s no problem, I’m glad I’m friends with someone like Diluc. I had a lot of fun and learned a lot more about Mondstadt thanks to him.” 

Jean giggles, a tune that’s so sweet in your ears. “I’m glad my fiancé made a friend. I hope I’ll get to know you more, ( Name ).”

You felt like your heart dropped when you heard what Jean called Diluc, your face almost fell. 

…

Fiancé? 

“...O-Oh, you guys are engaged?” You asked, stunned from your realization. 

Jean instantly covers her mouth. “Oh, my bad.” 

“It’s alright, Jean.” Diluc reassures her, you saw the way he looks at her. It’s different than the way he looks at you. “I was meaning to invite them to the wedding before they leave for Liyue.” 

Jean sighs in relief, then looks at you with an apologetic smile. “I apologize for the shock. But yes, me and Diluc are set to be married in December. We haven’t announced our engagement to the public yet so we’d appreciate it if you could keep it a secret until it’s announced. I’ll make sure to give you an invitation tomorrow if that’s fine with you!” 

You felt sick, swallowing the sour taste of heartbreak in your throat. “Of course! I’m honored I’m invited to your wedding. Congratulations on your engagement.” 

You’re too caught up with the sudden news that you didn’t notice the way Diluc looks at you in concern.

Jean didn’t notice either, still smiling happily. “Great, I hope we’ll talk again next time. I’m afraid Diluc and I have to go now to meet Mr. and Mrs. Kamisato before they leave. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay in Mondstadt until you leave! Shall we, Diluc?” 

The red-haired man hesitantly looks at you, and you remembered how he was supposed to escort you. You feel selfish for wanting him to go with you, but you knew your place. 

“Go.” You mouth to Diluc with a reassuringly small smile, despite your heart wanting him to stay. “I’ll see you two next time. It’s nice to meet you as well, Jean.”

“...See you next time, ( Name ).” Diluc spoke up before walking towards Jean. 

Without another word, you turn away and walk back to where you’re supposed to be going. Away from Shinsuke, from your heartbreak, 

And away from Diluc. Your first love for the first time in 4 years. 

You tried your best to hold onto your facade that everything’s normal and okay as you’re on your way back to the hotel room rushedly, your heart racing and lips shaking from what just happened. 

You aren’t sure if you were overwhelmed by what happened between you and Shinsuke, or from the unrequited love between you and Diluc. 

You should’ve known he wouldn’t be single. You should’ve known he was taken by someone as beautiful and amazing as Jean. You should’ve remained oblivious to your feelings towards him,

You should’ve known he would never see you that way.

By the time you enter the room and close the door behind you, you knelt down on the ground and let out a sob, dropping your bag as you cover your face with your hands. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck! 

Everything hurts. Everything is too much. You feel like you’re being burned inside as your heart aches deeply. You feel like you want to jump off a cliff and land in an ocean, never to be seen again. Why did you had to find out you’re in love when you found out your love is unrequited? Why is this happening to you? What did you do in your past life to deserve such cruelty? 

You were so busy crying that you didn’t notice Zhongli walking towards you in concern. Words didn’t exchange between you two, but your friend knew what to do. He always comforts you whenever you cry about Ayato after drinking too much back then, reassuring you that you’ll eventually move on someday. 

He kneels down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder comfortingly. You didn’t hesitate to lean your head on his shoulder as a result, continuing to let out your wails and tears. 

“I fell in love, but he… He belongs to another. Why does this always happen to me?” You sobbed. 

Zhongli slowly pulls you closer to him. “I do not know.”

You let out another sob, closing your eyes shut. “It hurts.” 

He closes his eyes as well, his heart aches at the sound of your cries. “I know.” 

That day, you didn’t look at your phone anymore to see if he sent you a message. Spending the rest of your time engulfed in heartbreak as your dearest friend comforts you. 

Just when you thought you were willing to fall in love, that chance was once again out of your reach.

It’s true he made you realize there’s always a chance, a chance to love.

Just not a chance to love him.

—

Somewhere by the hotel’s parking lot, someone is going through the same thing as you.

Thoma leans against the steering wheel of his car, exhaling deeply as he closes his eyes.

He knew he’d never have the chance to win your heart, yet it still hurts to think that you’re now in love with someone else. Don’t get him wrong, he’s truly happy for you — especially knowing that you have never bothered trying to give love a chance again and never had a date with anyone since the break up.

He just wished it was him you had fallen in love with, even though it sounds as impossible as going to outer space in this life.

But nevertheless, it wasn’t the fact that his love for you stayed strong and you still see him as just a friend—

It was the fact that you’re in love with a man who’s out of your reach.

Thoma didn’t know what to think when he learned you love Diluc. He wanted to be happy for you — he knows the man has a good heart after hearing so many good things about him — but he knew you’re going to be heartbroken when you learned about his secret engagement with one of the most powerful and well-respected women in Mondstadt.

There’s nothing he can do about it. He can only hope you’d get through the same pain you felt back then.

Thoma lets out a sigh, leaning back up from the steering wheel.

Even if he cannot provide it, the blonde-haired man just wished that someday, you’d love someone who loves you too, with nothing that can stop you both,

Unlike the men you fell in love with.

DAN’S NOTES

(1) diluc isn’t leading reader on nor was he flirting with them. chapter 14 will explain his side as well as his feelings towards reader. (see my response to this ask here for more details)

(2) i understand if you’re willing to drop the series, but it’s better if you keep it to yourself if you intend to insult this series or me. if you’re planning to send ask about the problem of this chapter, make sure to read my responses regarding asks about this situation because i dont really want to repeat myself again.

(3) i apologize for the disappointment if you expected reader to end up with diluc as well as for not adding it in the warnings about jeanluc being mentioned — i made another version of this storyline where they do end up together, which is versadies’s version ( look at the links ) to make it up to you guys :>>

PREVIOUS || NEXT || VERSADIES’S VERSION (PROCEED TO THIS LINK FOR FLUFF LOVERS)

[gojo-enthusiast]

Master Zenin - Toji Fushiguro Series — Reblog & Like🫶🏻 read more at the link above👆🏻🖤

Chapter One

“Mr. Zenin asked for us to escort the woman to the care unit, located on the east wing of his estate.” A man say into his phone. You had a blind fold, and cuffs on. You felt something stuffed in your mouth, some sort of cloth. You had just started waking up from the stuff they had put over your nose when they caught you at the refuge center.

“Mmgh-mmgh!” You’re groaning, trying to get the cloth out of your mouth. “Hey, calm down back there.” The man who you are guessing is driving, says to you. “Sir, what will they do with the woman?” You hear another unfamiliar voice ask. “Oh you’re a newbie. The leader we are taking her too has about 150 slaves, 50 of them are slave girls. Some are solely just for cooking, house keeping, maintaining the mansion. But some of the others are for his personal use. If you know what I mean.” The first man says with a chuckle.

“Everything changed when the Zenins and Gojo Clan took over and won the war. They own half of the states, enforcing this new way of life. Luckily guys like us didn’t get the short end of the stick.” He adds.

That’s what happened, after years of the Zenin Clan and Gojo Clan were at war, in the end they wanted the same thing, and that— was power. They put their heads together and came up with a life where there were -Masters or Leaders. A group of men who they came into the idea as well, investing time, money, and even their lives to make happy. A group of men who run as Presidents over half of the states now, the other half of the states being completely shut off, not fighting back. Because it’s safer to let them do as they please, than to have anymore blood shed.

Toji Zenin, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, and Kento Nanami, being the leaders over this new nation, enslaving all people who weren’t from their choosing. From the ages of 15-55, you were whatever they say you were. Delegating you to specific homes of the other masters that were below them, but keeping the ones they really wanted, for themselves. Then in turn the masters or leaders told you your role in their home, you were either one of the many staff, or their personal play thing, until ultimately they got bored.

Satoru Gojo— he had the most slaves out of all of the leaders. But not the biggest estate. That was Toji Zenin, his mansion and land was 300 acres in total, having his ginormous glamorous mansion, with a built in hospital wing. He was lavish, he screamed money, he screamed Master Zenin.

Suguru Geto was the most modest, he had a mansion himself, but it was very earthy, very cottage feel. He had about 75 slaves, he tends to stay to himself unless Satoru his best friend is over, or he’s over at his home. They spent a lot of times “sharing” slaves.

Kento Nanami was the pickiest, he had a private estate, not flashy but it was big, but you couldn’t see it until you drove for about a mile or 2. No one knew how many slaves he had, because he simply had no reason to leave his humble abode unless it was for their meetings.

But here you are, you had been on the run for years. You and your parents and sister spent the night talking about how this was going to play out. Your parents cried, saying that they were only able to secure 3 seats on a plane flying out of the country. Having to decide which child to bring, and which child to leave behind for suffering, your dad crying, saying he will stay. But you simply knew your dad was to sick, the cancer that he was dying from, he needed treatment, and your mother needed to be with her husband, and care for your little sister. So you made the decision to stay, and be on the run while your family is living a life of freedom. It had been 2 years, you had successfully stayed alive and not captured. Until one day, one of the refugee hideouts under ground was found and raided. Here you were, in the back of a car, or van, you didn’t know. Waiting to be put into someone home, the only question you now had, was…

Who’s?

[azrielsbxtch]

I’ve had more time to sit with HOFAS so here are things I loved and things that bugged me.

THINGS I LOVED

AZRIEL AND NESTA - Where to even begin. Their relationship and friendship is EVERYTHING. I'm so glad SJM chose to highlight both of them for the ACOTAR part because their chemistry is everything. I can't wait for more in ACOTAR 5

AZRIEL - Every new thing we learned about Azriel had me screeching. It's so clear SJM is setting him up for the next book. Every scene he appeared in I was obsessed! Finding out about truthteller, him being protective of his mom, him interacting with music, him being all hot and threatening....this bat has me in a chokehold I swear.

THE LORE - All the new information we got about Prythian and Midgard is so interesting. I wish I was a theories person because there's so much to theorize about!

RUHNLIDIA - They served in this book omg. When Ruhn was like "this is my first mission with my girlfriend I want to impress her" I almost threw my phone I'm not even kidding. They are so cute🥹✨✨

HUNT - I still feel like I need more Hunt. He's such a sweetheart and was truly a highlight for me in this book. I love him so much and I was totally rooting for him to fry Celestina.

THINGS THAT BUGGED ME

Ruhn and Lidia’s mate announcement. I knew Ruhn and Lidia would be mates from HOSAB so I was only waiting for confirmation but the way it was written threw me off. Ruhn just said it out of nowhere and to…of all people…Pollux….like what? Why? Idk it could have been more emotional.

Ariadne- I don’t understand the point of introducing this new character only to do NOTHING with her. I shipped her and Flynn sooo much. The way she was introduced in the beginning of the book had me so hyped only for her to disappear. Like imagine a dragon marching with the armies of Hel when they fought the Asteri…

Sigrid - That entire plotline felt useless to me. She was set up to be this hope for the wolves and it all amounted to nothing. So why did we waste so much time on her. I enjoyed Ithan’s chapters because I really like him. But from an objective point of view…most of what SJM made him do didn’t make sense. If she wanted him to become Prime (which I loved btw) she didn’t need to waste all that time on Sigrid and her resurrection only for her to join Sabine the person she’s supposed to hate and then disappear.

Tharion and Sathia - No…just no…..

Bryce ignoring Hunt’s trauma - She did it in HOSAB but again and on a larger scale in HOFAS. Everytime Hunt brought up his fears (understandable because he has now faced the Asteri twice and suffered insane consequences) Bryce just got angry and put him in such a bad position. She made it look like he didn’t want to support her when he has very valid reasons to be afraid. After what he went through the first time in the Asteri dungeons for years and then again! I’m surprised he didn’t break down even more tbh. His feelings were so valid.

Bryce - SJM tried to do the “Aelin is always two steps ahead” thing with Bryce but honestly it didn’t work. A lot of the times I was side eyeing and was like “that’s convenient” Bryce was guessing a lot of times so that whole thing just didn’t work.

The plot was all over the place. The book really didn’t flow well.