#would you believe it took thirty fucking minutes to figure out how to get this to upload

[lady-lazagna]

Here we go😏

This is an offering for @masterofdemise so that she may spare me in the coming Pluto Uprising🙏 also a secret santa gift

Here’s the still at the beginning for funsies

[jxckchxmpi0n]

can u do something where reader has a cat and ethan is meeting it for the first time!!

RAHHH!!! this is so fucking cute omg......

Cuddle Buddie

Ethan Landry x Reader || m.list

Warnings: it's just all fluff

word count: 1.1k

the urge to write this week is so high right now!!!! (tumblr fr fr giving me a hard time while writing this)

did not proof read (im so stressed this wont save again)

You haven't seen your boyfriend in about a week, with his classes and your scheduling time together seemed difficult. So, you both agreed that he would come over Saturday after he was done at work.

It was Tuesday and you were already done with classes, sitting in your shared apartment with Tara, Sam, and Mindy you sat on the couch mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. Your eyes landed on a post about someone giving away kittens, the post had said they would give the kitten the shots it needed and would give them away for fairly cheap.

One thing led to another, and you stood outside the ladies' house with Tara. "I can't believe I'm doing this." Tara shared the same excitement as you did, she stood next to you jumping up and down as the lady brought the kitten out.

it was a small gray cat asleep in her arms, and your heart melted the second you saw him. All curled up, what an angle. "He is just a babe" You reached in and held him yourself. "Ethan is going to flip when he sees him" Tara was right next to you softly petting the top of the cat's head.

-

A few days had passed, the kitten was getting used to the apartment and exploring the place. You and Tara both realized that he was in love with biting people's feet.

Ethan was supposed to come over today and meet the kitten. He actually had no idea still that you had gotten him.

He was eventually on his way; it was after his econ class so it was already late. you were getting some dinner ready for the two of you, Tara was out with Chad and Sam was out with Danny. you were excited that it was going to be just the two of you.

You had left the kitten in your room not wanting Ethan to walk in right away and see the little fur ball.

After thirty minutes the front door lock clicked, with the door opening right after. Ethan came walking in with a huge smile on his face. "hey, baby" he was towards you, his hand reaching your waist pulling you in for a sweet quick kiss.

"hey, how was econ?" you smile as you watch him set his keys, and backpack down. He comes back to you standing next to you as you stir the pasta sauce.

"It was pretty good, we got a pop quiz which I was not excited about but I feel like I passed it" you held up the spoon for him to taste it. He gladly took the spoon humming at the flavors.

"Wow, that's-" Right as he was about to speak a loud crash came from your room. Your heart picked up thinking what the kitten had gotten himself into. "What was that?"

"OH, ow you faked touching the pot which caused him to jump. He rushed to you to make sure you were okay, as you held your fake burnt hand, he took it from you to look at it. The sound from the room was long forgotten.

time had passed and you were both down with food, you were finally ready to show Ethan the kitten. "So actually, I have something I wanted to show you" you got up from the couch leaving him alone, running to your room you found the kitten sleeping in his tower.

"I honestly didn't fully expect this, but you know why not" Ethan was listen to your talk, his brain was running miles while trying to figure out what you were going to show him. Just as he had given up you came walking out with some weird lump in your arms.

As you got closer, he realized it was a kitten "Oh my god is that-" he sat up so fast, shifting his body so it was closer to you as you sat down. The kitten was awake, he was just chilling in your arms but once he was Ethan, he started to move so he could smell him.

He slowly but surely got out of your arms and into Ethan's lap, he looked at him for a moment before he started to mess with Ethan's hand as he was trying to pet him. "Yeah, I got him a few days ago, I went with Tara. I saw someone post about them and I just had to check it out."

Ethan was so lost in playing with the kitten he almost didn't hear you. "This is adorable, babe oh god I love him already" You smiled at the interaction between the two. "I just know for sure we are going to be fighting for your attention" Ethan looked at you smiling as the kitten kept biting his hand.

They played for the next thirty minutes, the kitten jumped around as Ethan threw his toys around, and moving to the floor the kitten would hide under the couch and bite Ethan's feet. Staying out of it your heart was so full seeing Ethan play with the kitten. You just knew it was a good idea to get him and you can't wait for the late nights like this to come in the future.

[futurecorps3]

Hobie Brown partying with latina!reader<3

Masterlist<3

SUGGESTIVE!!! MDNI GO AWAY OR ILL BITE YOU

I’m already giggling about this shit and haven’t even started it 🤭 just picture that emoji cause that’s how i look rn. This is written from my perspective which is from a mexican living in Mexico going to 100% mexican perreos!!!

-It took a while to convince him to be honest

-Don’t take it the wrong way though!! He’s supportive and go ahead, perrea hasta el suelo but it’s just not his scene

-He’s not a reggaetón hater, he believes every type of music has a merit to it!! BUT ITS JUST NOT HIS SCENE

-Hacerle ojitos was enough to convince him lmao

-“Mi amor please! I want you to meet my friends” You whined, looking up at him all dressed up for the party that started in about thirty minutes. How could he say no when you were looking so pretty? “Shit ‘aight” He muttered, leaving to do his makeup as you kissed his cheek sweetly

-Now when y’all get there

-HE’S ASTONISHED TO SAY THE LEAST

-Yeah sure, mosh pits were crazy and the pubs he frequently attended were also wild but seeing

-People making out with a stranger then the next, some couple basically fucking in the couch next to the door, a girl downing shots like there was no tomorrow, besos de tres, and most importantly; el perreo.

-My man gets shy n shit like he holds your hand. pls help him no entiende nada

-Your friend approaches you with two plastic cups with some golden liquid that didn’t even reach the half of the cup. “Hey Hobie! Nice to meet ya’, my name’s Martha. Tengan, para ambientarse and getting the party started for you two!”

-Hobie thought it was dumb to drink so little of something, even more when he saw how effortlessly you downed your shot. “What’s this shit?”

-Tequila. It was Herradura. Now he knows why you pour so little for a single shot.

-HE WAS WHEEZING, SPILLING HIS GUTS OUT AND ABSOLUTELY BAFFLED BECAUSE HOW DID YOU DRINK THAT WITHOUT EVEN FLINCHING?????

-Your male friends definitely laughed a bit at that, pero en buena onda, they know how important Bee is to him so they’d never be mean to him hehe

-“Ay cabrón, Martha le dio tequila?” One of your friends say while laughing, his arm rounding your boyfriend’s tall figure “Sí, no soportó” You laugh back, kissing Hobie softly

-Your friends got to know him, silently questioning his intentions and stuff but not like they’re your parents. They mean well!! They just want their friend to be happy with this new dude, and some of them are men, so they definitely know how shit they can be

-“So this is what usually happens?” He asks, looking around as he takes it all in “Yup” you nod, popping the ‘p’ and smiling “I love it”.

-He found it all very freeing; no one judging, everyone moving as they pleased and drinking like hangovers weren’t real. No labels, no consistency. Just fun.

-Then… your friends pulled you to the circle to dance

-And he was done for.

-Seeing how you moved your hips in circles (something he was now sure was sort of a generic gift) changed his life forever

-You danced with your girlfriends, making a line of grinding and twerking from time to time. Some of their boyfriends reaching out to dance with them

-“Holy shit” Hobie muttered, entranced by how you ass moved in those shorts “Yeah, it’s something else” One of your friends who was now friends with Hobie (bonding over playing vodka beer pong) answered.

-“Try to dance with her man, I know you’re foreign and stuff but I don’t think Y/N/N would mind teaching you”

-His feet take him to you before he knows

-“Want me to teach you, love?” You shout so he can hear you over the music, and he just nods with a smile, holding your hands

-“Your work is just moving with me with your hands on my hips, look at Martha and her boyfriend”. He noticed how your best friend’s boyfriend kept a tight grasp on Martha’s hips, going down with her and up again if she did.

-Hobie replicated his moves and soon he got the hang of it

-Big, ring-clad fingers holding your waist tightly as he loosened his hips and felt your ass grinding against his crotch. You can feel how his tall figure looms over you, towering your smaller frame and you love it.

-As he gets more confident, he starts pulling you closer, kissing your neck from time to time and pulling away for a bit so you can scream some lyrics with your friends and then go back to him.

-It's safe to say he has a boner, yeah

-To you? It felt like an absolute dream! Imagine him grinding behind you to some track of Un Verano Sin Ti as he sings along to some of the chorus’s lyrics <3

-You got wasted, danced the night away, he perfected his spanish and you accomplished your dream; ver a Hobie Brown, el punk, perreando.

˚ · • . ° .

TAGS: @kirbyskisses @angeliquecherie @cowboycurtis56 @backyard-bear @lilacspider @gktyo @katsukiswrld @elusive-honeydew @solanawrld

I'm actively ignoring my full inbox to write this so it better not flop. HERMANAS lemme know if u like it and leave in the replies what else would you like to see from hobie with a latina reader

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-nine

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: PLEASE, we are begging you guys. Take your time with this one, so many different emotions throughout. Its a big fucking deal and read it slow, immerse yourself in this world while listening to the playlist. Enjoy my lovelies. 😉

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond

NOAH

"I'm so fucking glad we're staying in a hotel the next few days," Folio groaned as we walked down the long hallway of the hotel.

I nodded in agreement. "I can't believe the tour is almost over; our last show is tomorrow night."

With our last show tomorrow night, we were spending the next few nights in a hotel and we all planned to take flights back home so we could get there faster. Hollow Souls were also staying in this hotel but they were a floor beneath us but it seemed the farther I went from Y/N, those imaginary pull strings inside of my heart tightened. If it hurt this bad when she was a floor underneath, how bad would it hurt when she was a state away?

As far as I knew, she still had plans to go back to Vegas because that's where her home was, granted it was with Trey. There wasn't a part of me that was worried she would go back to him; I knew she wouldn't. Ever since they fired him, Hollow Souls has been thriving. They posted on their social media pages that Trey was kicked out of the band due to personal reasons and while most of their fans complained about them kicking out their main vocalist, there was a select few that were excited to see what the future of Hollow Souls looked like.

Y/N was upset at first that so many of their fans were boycotting them now because they decided to kick Trey out.

"Seems like they only care about Trey's vocals when I'm the one that actually wrote our songs."

It took a while of Malcolm and Chase talking to her to realize that their future together as a band was looking bright. They could reinvent themselves.

I filled in for the last two shows but after playing my set for thirty minutes before their hour-and-a-half set, my voice was getting raw and sore so Matt thought it be best if I didn't fill in for the last show. I was going to argue, not wanting to let them down, but Chase reassured me they'd figure out what to do for the last show.

Y/N has been glowing since Trey left, slowly becoming a better woman in front of all of us; to me, she'd always been perfect. But we could all see her confidence growing. With her face in the dirt far too many times with Trey, she finally said enough; it doesn't hurt anymore. As all of his lies crumbled down, Y/N found a new life.

To say all of us were proud of her was a fucking understatement.

"Hey," Jolly bumped shoulders with mine, pulling me from my thoughts as we stopped in front of the door to his room. "Bryan wants us ready to go in twenty minutes."

Oh, right.

We were currently in Oregon and Bryan planned some time today on our off day to visit one of the national parks here to take some promo photos of us.

"Yeah, I'll be ready to go. I need to change quickly and I'll meet you guys down in the lobby," I said as I walked down a few more doors until I stopped in front of my room; the one I was sharing with Nick.

He patted my shoulder as he walked past me into the room. "You should ask if Y/N wants to come with."

I shrugged off his words, trying not to make it seem that I'd been tossing around the idea for the last hour when Bryan first told us about his plan.

"She might have plans with Chase and Malcolm," I said while tossing my suitcase onto the bed, quickly rifling through the clothes to find something to change into.

"She doesn't. Last I heard, Chase and Malcolm are going out tonight so Y/N will be alone," Nick raised a suggestive brow.

With a long sigh, I turned to face him. "You already planned this, didn't you?"

"It was Chase's idea," he answered.

Rolling my eyes, I pulled out my phone to send a text to Y/N.

Get dressed, I'll be by your room in fifteen minutes.

She responded quickly before I had the chance to set my phone down.

Care to tell me where we're going?

All you need to know is to dress warm, angel.

You're full of surprises. See you soon, mochi. Room 245.

"Mochi?" I chuckled to myself while pocking my phone.

With a smile playing at my lips and my heart pounding loudly in my heart at the nickname, I tossed on a fresh hoodie and my tan jacket, opting to leave my hair down. Nick finished getting dressed when I did and once we stepped out in the hallway, Jolly and Folio were already waiting for us right outside our door.

"Fuck," I cursed while clutching my chest. "You scared the shit out of me, Folio."

"Too busy thinking about Y/N, huh?" He gave a playful smile.

Shoving him on the shoulder, I mentioned we needed to stop by her room before heading down to the lobby.

Jolly adjusted the guitar bag on his back. "She's coming with?"

I hesitantly nodded. "Is that alright? Nick said she was alone, and I felt bad if we left her while we did something."

They all smirked at my rambling as we took the stairs down one floor, our footsteps echoing in the small confined space.

"Of course it is, we don't mind when she tags along," Jolly said.

Coming to a stop in front of door 245, I gently rapped my knuckles against it and waited for her petite voice to carry through the wood. It was silent for a few moments, nerves ate away at my stomach as I wondered why she wasn't answering yet.

I knocked once again, this time with a bit more force, and breathed a little when a loud curse sounded from the other side.

"Hang on, someone's at the door."

I looked over to Nick with a raised brow, and he merely shrugged. "Chase and Malcolm are gone so I don't know who she's talking to."

The door opened with a quick brush of air, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight in front of me. Y/N was dressed in a pair of black tights, and a deep orange sweater that rested to the middle of her thighs, and her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. I had to resist the urge to wrap my fingers through it to pull her back to me as she turned back into the room.

"Give me two minutes, I have to get my shoes," She said while clutching her phone to her ear. "No, Dad. Not you. I've got plenty of time to talk."

While the rest of the guys hung out in the hallway, I leaned against the wall right next to her bed and watched her as she slipped on her typical Doc Martin, nodding every so often to something her dad was saying on the other end of the phone.

"Dad, you seem to forget that you're seventeen hours ahead of me right now," she laughed causing my heart to flutter. "It's only noon here. Wait, why are you calling me so early? Isn't it your day off?"

She paced around the room looking for something and realizing what it was; I grabbed her bag and slung it over my shoulder. "I got it."

Y/N smiled her thanks before the conversation with her dad took her attention again. "No, I haven't talked to Mom in a while…. well, the last time she tried to guilt trip me into staying with her when the tour was over…I'm not staying at Trey's place anymore. We broke up.…..yea, long time coming, tell me about it….I'm sure I'll figure it out but I'm not staying in Vegas anymore…..hell yes I'm keeping Salem; asshole doesn't do shit for my cat."

I couldn't ignore the way my stomach flipped hearing that she didn't plan on staying in the same state as Trey.

"I can't move in with Malcolm or Chase because they're actually finding their own place together…Dad, they're dating; have been for the last six months…Yeah, that will explain exactly why Chase and I never got together."

I chuckled as I thought of her dad trying to set up her and Chase.

"You saw videos from the show last night?" There was a clear shock in her voice as she continued to talk with her dad as she rushed around the room getting ready.

"I'm surprised because you don't even know how to work face time," she giggled. "Oh, he's a friend of ours. We've been touring with his band for the last few weeks. Yeah, he filled in the last couple of shows….you think so? That's what everyone is saying online."

Her gaze flicked up to mine as her lips parted slightly, whatever her dad said made her give a long pause.

"Just a friend, dad." Then she turned swiftly on her heels away from me to whisper something low into the phone.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed to me with a pulled expression as she looked over her shoulder..

I waved her off. "Take your time."

"Dad, you know I miss you but I can't move to Japan; not now. But yes, I promise to visit you as soon as I can."

Eventually, after another minute, she said goodbye before hanging up with an audible groan. "Don't get me wrong, I love my dad but sometimes he forgets we talk almost every other day. He wants a play-by-play of my life every time."

"He wants you to visit?" I questioned.

She nodded while slipping into a jacket. "Yeah but its hard to find time. You need more than a weekend to visit Japan; there's so much to do."

"Yeah," I pushed her hand away when she went to reach for her bag. "I've got it."

"Noah, you don't have to carry my bag," she chuckled.

I shrugged. "I don't mind. Ready?"

"Yep," she smiled that heart-stopping smile.

When she walked past me towards the open door, my fingers grazed the inside of her wrist to stop her.

"Mochi?" I asked.

"Yes," she responded immediately. "Because you're the sweetest and your tummy is soft."

She poked her finger into my stomach before letting out a loud shriek of laughter as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders to bring her into my embrace, the both of us walking to the doorway where the guys were waiting.

"Malcolm and Chase are going to meet us once they're finished with their date," Y/N said.

"I'll text them the address," Nick said while pulling out his phone.

"Where are we headed?"

"The mountains," Folio answered with a smile.

"Ooh," she slipped out of my embrace, much to my dismay, to rummage around her suitcase for a book before she came back to me, lifting my arm and throwing it over her shoulder once again. "Now I'm ready."

Resisting the urge to press a kiss to her forehead, I set my sunglasses over my eyes and pulled her along with me as she let the door close behind us and ignored the smug look Nick threw my way as we walked past him; Y/N wrapping an arm around my back.

NOAH

"Can you believe how many people are calling for us to collaborate? It's all over Twitter," Nick said while browsing on his phone.

"Shit, really?" Y/N peered over from the back seat so she could gaze down at Nick's phone, who sat in front of her.

I was driving the van to the location that Bryan chose for our photo shoot but Folio called shotgun before she could which earned a cute little pout on her lips; lips that I wanted so bad to taste once again. So she sat in the far back with Jolly while Nick and Bryan sat in the middle. It was weird not having Chase or Malcolm with us since we did everything together on our off days.

"What are they saying?" I wondered while keeping my eyes on the road.

"Fans want you to feature on Hollow Souls next album," Y/N grinned as our eyes locked in the rearview mirror for a few seconds.

I hummed while pulling the van to a stop at the park's entrance. "I'm around whenever you need me, angel."

Once we all piled out, I met Jolly and Bryan at the back of the van to help them unload the equipment while Y/N chatted quietly with both of the Nicks, and out of the corner of my eye; I marveled at how goddess-like she looked with the afternoon sun casting her with her own aura glow. Jolly caught me staring because he smacked my chest before handing me the guitar he brought.

"You could ask her out, ya know," Bryan smirked.

I snapped my gaze over to him. "I can't."

"Why not? It's clear she feels the same since she's here right now," he said.

A long sigh fell from my lips as I ran a hand over my face. "It's not that easy, guys."

Bryan rolled his eyes and then hung his camera from his neck. "I mean you've already kissed, how much easier could things be between you two?"

"You told him?" I seethed at Jolly, who held up his hands.

"I didn't say anything. You two give it away with all the romantic googly-eye shit," he chuckled while he and Bryan began walking up the long trail toward the top of the mountain where we planned on taking the pictures.

"Hey," Y/N smiled as she bounded up next to me. "Little photo shoot?"

Immediately the scowl that followed Byran and Jolly turned into a warm smile, matching Y/N's, and I nodded. We began walking step in step, hands brushing against each other every so often, and I nearly linked fingers with her more than once. However, when we reached some rocky terrain while walking up a hill, Y/N cursed herself for not wearing smarter shoes.

"Here," I bent low in front of her and patted to my back.

"No, you're not carrying me," she tried to laugh it off, but I knew she was nervous about me carrying her weight on my back.

"Angel."

I peered over my shoulder in time to see her place her hands low on her hips.

"Mochi," she teased back with a small smirk.

My heart skipped a long beat at hearing the nickname again. It sounded so fucking sweet falling from her lips; almost as much as my actual name sounded.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," I said, still bent low at my knees.

Y/N pulled at the bottom of her sweater dress. "I don't want to give these bozos a show."

She threw a thumb over her shoulder towards both Nick's who walked a few paces behind her. I rose to my knees and gave her a suggestive smirk while closing the distance between us.

"What color are they?"

"Uh," Y/N stammered but quickly recovered. "A cute olive green. Looks great against my skin tone."

A low noise vibrated in the back of my throat and I stood straighter as Folio walked passed just in time to feel the growing sexual tension.

"Either you hop on his back or I will," he joked as he and Nick walked passed us.

She stared up at me and slowly licked her lips, an action I watched carefully through my sunglasses. "Noah?"

"Yes, angel?"

"You have a cute nose," her voice was quiet, and I thought I misheard her.

I titled my head to the side. "My nose?"

"Yeah. It's just the perfect size for your facial structure," she finished with a boop to my nose.

I scrunched up my face. "Did-did you just boop my nose?"

"See!" She pointed to my face. "You look so fucking cute; it's insane."

"Angel, literally," I breathed a low chuckle.

"Mochi, literally," she mocked while sticking her tongue out.

My fingers itched to grab it but Bryan's loud voice echoed through the trees from far ahead. "Let's go you losers! You're holding us up."

I swear to-.

"What will it be, angel?" I asked.

Y/N dramatically sighed before motioning for me to spin around, which I did with a quick wink.

"If you drop me, I swear to Hades," She grumbled while adjusting her dress.

The warmth radiated from her in giant waves as her legs wrapped around my sides and I hooked my arms underneath her thighs to hoist her up.

"I swear to Hades that I will not drop you," I promised while walking up the steep hill towards the rest of the guys. "Do you actually pray to the Greek Gods?"

She flicked my ear. "No, silly. I just like to joke around with them. They're my favorite mythology."

"Will you teach me about them?

"I'm honored you asked; I'd love to," she ran her fingers through my long hair and I briefly let my eyes flutter shut at the calming feeling.

"Only if you let me braid your hair."

My eyes snapped open. "Uh, we'll see about that."

She flicked my ear again. "You're no fun."

Hooking her tighter against me, I closed the distance between us and the guys in a few long strides. Nick gave the two of us a look as I set Y/N down gently on her feet, she quickly pulling down her dress.

"You didn't see shit," she pointed a firm finger to all of us.

"Nope."

"Nothing."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Bryan held up his camera and snapped a few pictures of Y/N; who in return, flipped him the finger.

I watched with a racing heart as she messed around with the guys, almost as if she'd been part of our little group for years.

"Alright," Y/N pulled the book out of her bag. "I'll let you guys do your thing. If you need me, I'll be reading over there."

She pointed to the edge of the mountain that looked over the small lake we drove past to get here.

"Be careful, angel," I warned.

"I'll be fine," Y/N rolled her eyes but as she turned, she tripped over a rock and stumbled a bit before standing straight.

I raised a teasing brow at her while crossing my arms over my chest. "What was that?"

"Fuck you," she taunted with her middle finger.

Don't tempt me, angel.

The next hour passed in a blur as we took countless pictures, just having a fun, relaxing time. Every so often, my gaze would fall onto Y/N as she leaned up against a large willow tree, book perched in her lap. The wind blew through her ponytail every so often and I marveled at how fucking breathtaking she looked when her face would scrunch in surprise with whatever she was reading.

I knew from the moment I stepped off our bus the first day of the tour when I saw her standing amongst the group; when we first met. It wasn't the typical love at first sight bullshit Folio talks about that happens in the movies. It was more like a familiarity, almost like 'oh, hello. It's you. It's always going to be you.'

"Noah, could you take a little step forward," Bryan directed.

Snapping my gaze away from Y/N reluctantly, I followed Bryan's orders for another long few minutes until he decided we got enough pictures. I motioned towards Y/N, who still had her nose perched in her book, and Bryan knew what I silently was saying because he snapped a few pictures of her.

Malcolm and Chase walked up just as we finished our photoshoot so a quick idea came to my mind.

"Angel," I called.

She looked up. "Hm?"

Not saying anything, I waved her, Malcolm, and Chase over to our position which they did hesitantly.

"If Bryan is cool with it," I pointed to him. "What do you guys say for a Hollow Souls photoshoot? New and reimagined?"

Bryan immediately agreed. "Let me change out some things and we can get started.

Chase and Malcolm also agreed with a nod. "I think it'll be good for us."

"You guys don't have to do this for us," Y/N stated. "You've already done so much for us, Noah by filling in."

I shrugged while stuffing my hands deep into the pockets of my jeans. "I take care of the people I care about."

She pondered my words for a long moment and eventually let out a long breath. "Alright fine."

Once Bryan returned, the rest of stepped back to give them space to work. Nick was the only one who watched me as Jolly, Folio, and I kept our eyes on Hollow Souls. We grabbed a few beers from the cooler Jolly packed and was nursing them slowly.

"You know, this would be a perfect opportunity to maybe slip away just the two of you," Nick whispered.

I peered over to him and rolled my eyes, shoving him in the shoulder. "Whatever."

"I'm just saying," he held up his hands in defense. "A night under the stars in the mountains. Anybody would kill for a date like that."

Nick's words weighed heavily on my brain and when she began walking towards me, I made the haste decision by grabbing the guitar that was leaning against the tree.

"Hi," Y/N smiled as I met her halfway.

My heart warmed at the sight.

"Do you want to go somewhere more secluded, just the two of us?" I suggested with a hopeful smile.

I didn't want to think how I would feel if she rejected me and walked away from me.

"Sure," she answered quickly with a glimmer shining in her eyes.

Ultimately, after walking for a few minutes, we decided on an area far from the rest of the group down the water's edge. We sat down in the sand, our knees brushing against each other, and held the guitar in my lap as I watched her stare out into the vast distance of the water. There was a faraway look in the depths of her eyes as she messed with something on her wrist, fiddling it between her fingers.

A hair tie; the one I gave her the last time we were on the beach together. I wondered where it went but decided that I never wanted it back. It's hers to keep; along with everything else I gave her.

"How are you doing, angel?" I asked, breaking the growing silence.

She didn't look at me, kept her eyes straight ahead.

"I'm-." A hesitant breath. "I'm not sure. I want to believe I'm doing okay with the breakup of not only my relationship but also the band. For the longest time, Hollow Souls was the four of us and we released three records together. The future scares the shit out of me. Can the three of us reinvent a new Hollow Souls or do we need to find someone to replace Trey completely?"

I strummed a few random notes on the guitar; the melody echoing into the sounds of the waves.

"I think a fresh start in all aspects is good for you," I answered slowly, trying to get my thoughts and words right. "I've said it from the start, you're the heart and soul of this band, Y/N. The screams were a bonus. It didn't make or break you guys."

She finally looked towards me and her eyes darted over every inch of my face, wondering if my words were the truth. With her, they always were.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, mochi. Truly."

I scrunched up my face to show that the nickname wasn't my favorite but deep down, my insides were floating in pure bliss having her call me something so disgustingly cute. If any of the guys heard it, though, they would give me shit until the end of my days.

"Ditto, angel, ditto."

I tried to play it cool, sauvé, and chill. My typical demeanor was chipping like ice though, the fear of what would happen if it broke completely had its vise grip on me. No one has ever considered a fuckin a nickname for me, not one without a punchline. Not one without a groan or a cursed tantrum that followed. I wasn’t sure if the pure bliss I was feeling was normal, but who the hell wants normal? Hearing it come from her lips meant everything to me.

"Let's play something," I motioned to the guitar.

"Ooh, what do you have in mind?" She asked while turning her body to face me completely head-on and letting her hair flow as she took it out of the ponytail.

The view of her sitting in front of me with the waves crashing behind her, the setting sun's rays breaking over the horizon stole the breath from my chest.

"Only Love," I answered without an ounce of hesitation.

Y/N's nose scrunched up with confusion and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't the cutest fucking thing ever.

"Noah, that was a demo song from three years ago."

I shrugged and played the first few notes of the song. "Might be silly to some but to me, it means a lot."

It was true. I listened to that song on repeat when it first came out. It was the first song I heard by Hollow Souls and Y/N's voice captivated my heart with its claws. I remember laying on the pullout couch next to Nick in his bedroom as I stayed there yet again. My mind was racing with only one thought.

I have to fucking make it. I needed to buy my own couch that brought a sense of comfort and security I yearned for.

That's when her soft voice came through my headphones and it shocked me to hear a feminine voice after Of Mice and Men. I brushed the hair away from my eyes as I settled deeper into the couch and let Y/N's angelic voice lull me to sleep that night and far too long after.

Cut to three years later and the girl who wrote that song is here in front of me. Some may call it a ‘rockstar crush. Would she be considered that? Who the hell knows? All I know is that I had pent-up memories, and needed to hear that sweet voice sing it, just for me all these years later.

Y/N's real, right there in front of me.

"I'm shocked you remember that song."

"Why wouldn't I? You talked about it being on the cloud during that one livestream," I answered.

Her eyes doubled. "You watched the livestream?"

"Twice."

A red hue brushed across the soft skin of her face as she tilted her head down towards the sand, long hair covering her face.

"No," I brushed away the hair behind her ear. "Don't hide your beautiful face, angel. I want to see all of you if you'd let me."

"Sorry," she muttered under her breath. "I don't even realize I do it."

"Don't apologize. Never apologize to me. Just understand that this is how I see you. Now, enough sadness. Sing for me, angel."

She looked up at me through lashes with a small smile. "Do you know how to play it?"

I snorted, a little hurt that she would doubt me, but proved her wrong as I played the opening part of the song.

"I told you I watched the stream twice."

"Okay," she nodded. "Where did you want me to start?"

"Sing the whole song for me. Please?" I begged.

"You want me to sing the whole song?"

"I do," I rushed out.

Y/N gave a curt nod. “Okay, I’ll play the whole thing- but only because you asked me too, no one else gets the privilege.”

I playfully narrowed my eyes at her. “They better not.”

She took a deep breath while shutting her eyes as I played the tune on the guitar.

"I’m hoping you weren’t heaven sent cause only hell knows where you’ve been. Your built composure’s wearing thin and all your walls are caving in. Before you shut this down, I just wanna lift you up. I’ll take all this love I found and I hope that it’s enough."

We both could hear the ache in our hearts as it bled out, the lyrics mean so fucking much right now.

"Now don’t you shut this down. Ooh no don’t you give this up. I took all this love I found and I hope that it’s enough. Is it enough? If we don’t bend, then this might break. Please don’t give into this pain. Just keep on counting down the days and dream of me to keep you safe."

Y/n opened her eyes to meet mine, a blaze of passion that cut deep into my bones.

"Before you came around I was lost and out of place. You’re the only love I found and I’m hoping that you’ll stay. Please stay."

As we played on together in perfect harmony, there was one thing bright in clear in my mind: I'd stay for as long as she let me.

"Fuck," she breathed. "I forgot how much I loved singing this song."

I nodded in agreement while setting the guitar down next to me. "It's one of my favorites. It's actually what got me into Hollow Souls. I'd been hooked on your voice since that first night on Nick's couch all those years ago when I first heard it."

Y/N beamed when an idea struck her with such force, she stumbled to her feet. "I have to talk with Chase and Malcolm about something."

She took off a few steps in front of me, clearly excited about this idea she had. As we reached the rest of the guys, Y/N made a beeline toward Chase to tell him about her idea while I walked up to Nick and Folio, the former giving me a look.

"So my date idea was good, huh?" He playfully jabbed my side.

I pushed him away with a groan of embarrassment. "Fuck off, Nicholas."

"Oh, he pulled out the full name," Folio teased.

Jolly and Bryan joined us as we finished packing up the van and when I glanced over to Y/N, I noticed Malcolm pinching her cheeks playfully and she smacked his hands away, her cheeks flushed with her own embarrassment and large smile.

NOAH

"Oh wow, look at all of these beautiful people tonight!" Y/N's voice carried through the sold-out arena.

It was the last show of tour and Hollow Souls just took the stage for their set. We could feel the nerves radiate off of all three of them all the way where we stood on the stage to watch them. This was new what they planned on doing tonight but the three of them spent the rest of last night after we parted ways at the hotel and all morning and afternoon today practicing nonstop a new setlist. They wanted to show everyone tonight the first step towards the new Hollow Souls.

"Where's Noah?!" a voice yelled from the crowd.

Jolly chuckled from beside me. "Think they'll be upset you don't show up tonight?"

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. "I hope not. This is something that they need to prove they can do. The fans need to have faith in Hollow Souls."

"Well, about that," Malcolm spoke into his microphone while adjusting his bass strap.

"Now before you all start booing us off the stage," Chase spoke next from his spot above on his makeshift drum stage. "Noah has been fucking killing it not only with Bad Omens this tour but also helping us out a lot. But tonight, we wanted to do something a little different. We still have our guitar tech filling in for us!"

The crowd cheered for their guitar tech, which made him give an awkward wave.

"I know this may take getting used to, but we appreciate your support in doing what’s right for us and our band," Y/N said. "It means so fucking much to all of us you still showed up tonight even knowing Trey is no longer with us. For that, we're going to give you a kick ass show you deserved. Don't give up on Hollow Souls. We cut out the disease and are ready to fucking blossom."

Y/N peered over to me and with a small wave and wink, she sang the first few lyrics of Only Love.

NOAH

Darkness cascaded over my sleeping form, a brush of moonlight breaking through the curtains pulled tight in our hotel room, and I buried myself deeper into the cocoon of blankets. Sleep was within my grasp and after the last few weeks, the thought of finally being able to sleep in my own bed back at home made it that much easier to grasp it.

Until my phone buzzed from its place on the nightstand and my hand smacked around until it grabbed it. Through hazy vision, I blinked a few times for the words to clear.

Hey, are you awake?-Angel.

I sat up in bed and rubbed away the rest of the sleep from my eyes. It only meant one thing when someone texted you the typical you up text.

Yeah, couldn't sleep.

Bullshit, you were seconds away from waking up Nick with your snoring.

I stared at the bubbles that appeared on my screen and then disappeared, only to reappear right before her next text came through.

Would it be alright if I came by to hang out? Or is it too late?

The clock at the top of my screen showed it was just before midnight.

Not at all. I've got snacks, and we can finally finish watching Spirited Away. Room 392

Be there in five minutes. I'll bring some goodies too! :)

I chucked a pillow at Nick, who was fast asleep in his bed, but when he remained sleeping, I threw another. Eventually, he groaned, slowly waking up.

"You need to leave." I scrambled out of bed and pulled away the blankets from Nick. "Y/N's coming by to hang out."

Nick smoothed down his bedhead, a sly smirk on his lips. "You're kicking me out right now?"

"Fuck yes I am. Go bunk with Bryan or Matt," I said while changing out of my old gray sweats for a pair of black joggers, opting to put on a shirt.

He yawned before grabbing the things he would need and dragged his feet to the door, sending a text to whoever he bunked with.

"Be safe!" Nick called out before the door shut behind him.

With seconds to spare, I quickly tidied up the room then set up a variety of snacks and pulled up the movie on my laptop, setting it on the bed just in time for a soft knock to sound on the door. I let out a few deep calming breaths and did a quick once over of myself in the mirror.

"Hi," I smiled once I opened the door.

Y/N's eyes grazed over every inch of me as she shifted on her feet in the doorway, clutching a bag close to her chest. She was dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized shirt.

"Do you always sleep shirtless?" she asked with a raised brow.

I stepped to the side, allowing her to step inside the room. "Every hotel room I sleep in can't get any colder than seventy degrees. I need it to be at least sixty-eight. I run hot when I sleep and the guys know not to mess with the thermostat back home."

"Wow, good to know. I'll keep my hands to myself when I come over," she wiggled her fingers after setting her bag down on the couch.

Please don't.

I peeked a brow. "When you come over?"

"Oh, if you thought you saw the last of me because the tour is over, you're wrong," she fell onto the couch with a huff of breath. "I'm moving to Los Angeles."

My heart thumped loudly in my chest but I did my best to hide my excitement when I sat next to her.

"You are?" I questioned.

She nodded with that room-brightening smile. "I had a long talk with Chase and Malcolm tonight and we thought it is best. With us trying to reinvent Hollow Souls it'd be good if we were together for the writing process. Malcolm already found a place big enough for us and while he's going there to get things ready, Chase is flying back with me to Vegas to help me pack my things."

I shifted in my seat, resting my arm against the back of the couch, behind Y/N. "Do you think Trey will be there?"

"Probably but that's why Chase is coming with me; in case things go south."

"I could come too if you'd like," I stumbled over my words only slightly.

Y/N rested a hand on my knee and squeezed it. "You need to stop worrying so much about me, Noah. I can't ask you to change your plans for something I should do on my own."

"You're worth it, angel," I vowed while running a finger through the soft waves of her hair.

We stayed in that position for a minute longer, simply staring into each other's eyes, and when I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, Y/N let out a soft whine. The thick tension that always seemed to be around us intensified now, and it was almost hard to breathe, let alone keep my thoughts off the way her hand grazed a few inches higher on my thigh.

I cleared my throat while nodding to the bag next to her. "What did you bring?"

"Oh," she snapped out of her trance and set it on her lap. "Last tour, I started this tradition on the final night I celebrate by doing self-care."

She pulled out an array of masks and different colors of nail polish and then set them on the small coffee table in front of us.

"Sweet, hand me one," I nodded towards the masks.

"You do masks?" Y/N giggled.

"What, you think I get this perfect skin with just water?" I jeered with a smile.

For the next while, we sat with our face masks on and watched the movie on the small screen of my laptop. It took almost no convincing from her to paint my nails black; her choosing a burgundy color for her nails. But now, what she was trying to convince of me gave me a slight pause.

"I don't know, angel. I don't let just anyone touch my hair," I said while putting away my laptop, us finishing the movie.

Y/N moved to the chair that sat in the room's corner and had her legs spread wide. "It's a good thing I'm not anyone. Now, get your ass over here and let me braid your hair."

For added effect, she pouted her bottom lip out and gave me those big doe eyes.

"Fine," I sighed before sitting on the floor between her legs, my back to her.

I shivered under her touch as she raked her fingers through my hair to break apart the small knots that gathered while I slept earlier.

"So, which Greek God is your favorite?" I asked.

She hummed. "Without a doubt, Medusa. Her story is tragic and sometimes often told wrong but that's the thing with mythology; there are so many different versions, you just have to choose which one you believe more."

"Medusa is the one with the snake hair, right?"

"Yeah," she turned my head to the left as she began braiding that side. "Some stories said she was an original gorgon sister but recent tellings from Ovid say she was a beautiful maiden who worked in Athena's temple. Poseidon saw her from afar and just like Zeus always did, Poseidon decided he wanted Medusa. He had sex with her on the temple steps and Athena punished her by turning her into the gorgon with snake hair and cursed any man to turn to stone when they looked at her."

I whistled low. "Shit, Greek gods were assholes."

Y/N snorted. "You don't even know the half of it."

Once she finished the left side, she turned my head to the right so she could start on that side.

"How'd her story end?"

"In tragedy, like every other myth. Perseus was sent to behead her by King Polydectes of Seriphus because Polydectes wanted to marry Perseus's mother. The gods were well aware of this, and Perseus got help. He received a mirrored shield from Athena, sandals with gold wings from Hermes, a sword from Hephaestus, and Hades's helm of invisibility."

"Wait," I turned to look up at her, which made her chastise me because I messed up the braid. "Athena, who turned her into this monster, helped the guy who was sent to kill her?"

"Fucked up, I know."

With stern hands, she turned my head to the right again. "Since Medusa was the only one of the three Gorgons who was mortal, Perseus could slay her; he did so while looking at the reflection from the mirrored shield he received from Athena. During that time, Medusa was pregnant by Poseidon so when Perseus beheaded her, Pegasus, the winged horse, and Chrysaor, a giant wielding a golden sword, sprang from her body."

"Oh Pegasus, from the Disney Hercules," I noted.

"That movie is so wrong but what do you expect for a kids' movie," Y/N chuckled then slapped her thighs. "All finished."

She showed me my reflection through her camera on her phone and I couldn't stop the smirk that pulled at my lips.

"I'll have to admit, angel. I look good with braids," I admitted while snatching her phone from her.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" She asked while reaching for it.

I leaned far back from her and posed for a few selfies. "I thought you'd like an updated selfie of me. I know you have the other two I sent you a few weeks ago."

With a red face, she snatched her phone back and held it close to her chest. "I do not."

Bullshit.

"Right, then let me see your pictures," I teased while kneeling in front of her, hands resting on her thighs, her skin ablaze with heat.

She swallowed thickly. "Fuck you, Sebastian."

READER

I swallowed thickly while clutching my phone to my chest, knowing that he was correct about saving those two selfies he sent me before.

"Are you going to look at the selfie I took?" Noah taunted.

With a breath, I peered down at the phone only to suck in a large breath, body shivering underneath his warm touch on my thighs.

"That's your new contact picture, mochi," I smirked while setting it and leaned deeper in the couch, not realizing that I pressed my core closer to Noah's face.

His eyes burned as his gaze darted from between my legs up to my face and his tongue darted out to wet his lips, almost imagining the taste.

"Angel," his voice was deep, it rumbling in his chest.

All the heat shot straight to my pussy as it clenched with desire, something that always happened when around Noah. Before, I took care of myself with this exact image in my mind but now that it was about to happen made me buzz with excitement.

"Can I?" He asked while breathing over my lap.

I raised my hips towards his face, all morals or thoughts if this was the best idea flew out of the window. We waited long enough for this moment ever since we shared that kiss so long ago. I wasn't a religious person at all but fuck, did I pray to Aphrodite about this moment countless times.

"Please," the word choked out on my lips.

With a low growl, Noah pulled me off of the chair and tossed me onto the bed before he crawled between my spread legs. His long fingers hooked the waistband of shorts and panties pulling them off in almost a quick snap and when blazed eyes stared down at my bare pussy, I tried to close my legs.

"Don't," Noah demanded while gripping my thighs tight to spread my legs again. "Don't hide a fucking thing from me, angel."

Shit.

"I've never actually-," The words died on my lips when I felt embarrassed about what I was about to say.

Noah leaned over me. "Wait, are you going to say what I think you're going to say?"

I turned my head away from him. "He never wanted to go down on me."

Noah cursed while cupping my chin so I could meet his gaze. "Don't think about him, angel. Just lay back and enjoy this."

I did my best to nod in his grasp. "Okay."

He suddenly crashed his lips to mine in a fiery, passionate kiss, as he forced his tongue past my lips to taste every inch of my mouth and I moaned into it, nails scratching against the bare skin of his chest. Noah's teeth dragged over my bottom lip as his hand dragged down my side to slide up underneath my shirt, fingers pinching at my nipples.

"Noah," I breathed while breaking apart from the kiss.

He buried his face into the crook of my neck to breathe me in. "Say it again."

I did, over and over like a mantra, as he left a mark on the skin of my neck while his hand switched to the other breast, mimicking his actions from before. The wetness that pooled between my legs was almost a new feeling, never being this turned one, and for a moment I wondered if it would be alright; no pain.

Noah helped me sit up so he could pull my shirt over my head and soon was laying bare in front of him, hair sprawled around my head.

"Fuck, angel. You're fucking beautiful."

For the longest time, I was told something different from how I looked. So hearing the truth and sincerity from Noah made me almost close my legs in front of him. But with his tight grip on my hips to keep me locked against the bed, I knew he could read my thoughts.

"Don't go there. Stay here with me," he said before his lips pressed over every inch of skin from my lips to my chest, down my stomach, and stopped right about my pussy.

I whined the smallest of sobs when Noah took his time, lips ghosting over me. By now I was almost begging and when I finally felt the wet flick of his tongue against my clit, I breathed out a shaky curse. Noah pressed the fullness of his tongue against my lips, licking me up from the bottom to the top, spreading my legs wider apart. I bit my hand to keep the noises at bay.

"I want to hear you," he left a gentle bit on the inside of my thigh.

"Fuck," I moaned when his tongue speared inside of me for a few strokes.

My hands now grasped at the blanket beneath me as I raised my hips farther into his mouth, his lips wrapping around my clit to bite and suck at the bundle of nerves. I always thought my Gspot was in my clit because it was hard to have an orgasm any other way than rubbing myself. Without even telling Noah this, it was as if he knew exactly what my body needed.

It happened so fast, before I knew it he was devouring me like a dying man. I’ve never felt euphoria until now; this must be how it feels to see the moon, the moon that changes its orbit. He had me spinning.

"I love the way you taste, angel." Noah broke away from my clit for a second before diving back it.

The familiar feeling of an orgasm built in my stomach, the tension pulling so fucking tight it was seconds away from snapping. My spine tingled with anticipation as my body tensed, knees shaking underneath Noah as he rubbed his tongue in faster but shorter circles, moaning with the taste that lingered on his lips.

"N-noah. 'M so close," I let my head fall back deeper into the mattress.

"Let go, I've got you."

With a strangled breath, I let the orgasm crash through me like a tsunami, a bright white light edging at the corners of my eyes while Noah licked me through the last few aftershocks. As my breathing calmed, I lifted my head in time to see him stand to his feet, stepping out of his joggers only to stand in front of me in his black briefs.

I licked my lips when I saw his cock straining against the confines of the material until he palmed himself in a few strokes.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked.

I shook my head with desperation clear in my voice. "No, please. I need this-I need you, Noah."

He cursed before sliding off his briefs with desperation and urgency, his hard cock springing against his thigh, and I nearly died at that sight alone. All of my imagination did nothing compared to the real thing, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared for a few different reasons. Sex with Trey was uncomfortable but with Noah's size, I feared it would only hurt. The only saving grace was that he worked me open and the added wetness would make up for the slight pain.

"Are you on anything?" Noah asked while kneeling between my legs.

A lot of different shit.

"No," I said.

He leaned over to a bag that lay at the foot of the bed and rummaged around for a few seconds before retrieving a condom. I watched with anticipation as pre-cum seeped out of the slit when he ripped it open and slid it over his length then perched himself between my legs again, the head of his cock pressing gently against me. He wrapped one of my legs around his hip then slowly, sunk deep inside of me, and I bit my tongue hard to keep my strangled cry quiet. I knew there was going to be some pain; it was inevitable, but I didn't expect it to feel so good either.

"Fuck," Noah rested his forehead against my collarbone. "So tight."

He didn't move at first, relishing in the way I felt gripping his cock, and I couldn't take it anymore; I needed him to move.

"Noah," I begged while grinding against him.

One hand gripping my thigh, the other was placed next to my head to keep himself supported as he finally moved his hips in slow, deep strokes.

"Faster," I panted, almost pleading.

Slow was good but right now I needed fast.

Noah accepted my pleas and began slamming into me with such force, I cried out in name with a mixture of pleasure and pain. My hand slipped between our bodies to rub at my clit, hoping that the sensation would ease the pain a bit, but it could only do so much.

He noticed something was wrong with the way my face contorted in pain. "Angel, do you want to get on top?"

"Fuck yes, please."

Still buried deep inside of me, Noah rolled our bodies so now I was straddling him and almost immediately, the pain subsided; it was still there but not as strong. My hands sprawled over the tattoos that covered his chest as I leaned down to lick my way across the snake and apple on his neck. The noise he made, and his moans were so soft as my hot tongue went up and down his neck, I grazed over his Adam's apple with my teeth and bit down. Noah shook underneath me as he wrapped an arm around my back to hold me closer, burying his thick, aching cock, deeper inside of me.

We felt the rush, the aching, burning blush. We surrendered to the touch. I gave him a show. This is heaven in hiding.

"Angel," he begged as my teeth worked on leaving a mark against the hand on his neck. "I need-."

"What do you need?" I ground my hips against his pelvis and the sensation sent sparks to my clit and I clenched around him.

"Fuck," he cursed. "Don't stop what you're doing. It feels so good."

"Oh," I bit down on a new patch of skin on his throat. "This?"

"Yes," he dragged out the S for a few seconds.

My hands went to run through his hair but I almost forgot in our haste that I braided it a few minutes before this.

"Angel," Noah's voice was raw. "You have no idea how much I've wanted you."

I sat up slowly to stare down at him in awe as his words made me feel unspeakable things.

In one quick action, his hand snaked behind my head to pull my lips back down to him to kiss me feverishly.

"Noah," I tugged on his braids.

"Shit, give me a minute. I can take them out."

I didn't stop moving my hips against him. "Noah. I-."

"Just second, angel."

His hands left their vice grip on my hips to take out his hair but I quickly slapped his hands while sinking deeper on his cock. "Leave them."

The same sensation of a cresting orgasm filled every inch of me, ecstasy shooting through my veins like a drug, and when Noah's thumb pressed fast circles against my clit, I leaned my head up towards the ceiling, lips parting as my hands wrapped around his braids, pulling with such force he choked on my name. I rode Noah faster, needing that last little bit of friction to tip me over the edge and when I finally let the bliss plow through me in droves, I held my breath.

"Angel," Noah cupped my cheek so I could look down at him. "Breathe through it with me."

I did as he said, both of us breathing out my orgasm as our eyes locked intently with each other. I writhed against him, my arousal soaking the condom and parts of his hips. It was such a simple action but the way it set my body on fire intensified the aftershocks to something I'd never experienced. Noah stared down to the place where we met and with a noisy moan, he wrapped an arm tighter around me to pull me flush against his chest as his hips stilled for a second before he emptied himself inside the condom.

NOAH

I pressed light kisses all along Y/N's shoulder blades, in shock and almost slight jealousy as I took in every inch of the large tattoo that covered her back. It was of a large snake that wrapped along every groove of her spine with an array of different Japanese flowers.

Afterward, I let her fall onto the mattress with a happy sigh, immediately grasping the pillow closer to her chest and that's when I noticed the tattoo.

"I can't believe I've never noticed this before," I mused while running a finger over the ink.

"It's taken like two years to complete. It's my second favorite after the one on my leg of the Gods," she rested her chin on her palm. "You know what I just realized? We have similar tattoo themes; copy cat."

Her finger grazed over the snake and apple along my neck.

"Yeah," I chuckled. "All you need is an apple right here."

I smacked right above her ass and she shrieked while falling into the pillow once again, a long but content sigh falling from her lips. I kissed from between her shoulder blades down her back, my nails grazing beyond the wake of my lips.

"Are you okay?" I wondered while gently squeezing her hips.

“Yeah, I think so. I feel content, just basking in it. You?”

I nodded and kissed the side of her head as I lay next to her. "I feel great."

"Do you know what you want in 10 years?" Y/N blurted out.

“That’s a random question” I chuckled while kissing her lips.

She sighed and looked up at me through her lashes. “I know but think about it, like really think about it?”

I thought deeply about her question, fingers still grazing her spine. “Alright I’ll bite, I don’t know, I’ve always been trying to make it with whatever bullshit has been going on in my fucking life- just wanting to mean something to somebody, make music- for anybody out there to listen. To be the fucking king you know?”

She laughs. "And?"

"Way down the road maybe one day in the future- to live in the middle of nowhere with a dog, cats, and a family of my own. In my wooden home that I built."

Y/N's body went rigid with my words.

"But right now, no dog, no family just…just Bad Omens," I finished with a hopeful breath.

She hummed in response but turned her head to face the wall opposite of us, something bothering her. Not wanting to push it, I left another kiss on her spine before I slipped out of bed to discard of the condom in the bathroom trash, a light red color catching my attention.

Once back in the room, I slipped back underneath the covers.

"Angel?"

Another hum vibrated from her throat, sleep weighing heavy on her shoulders.

"Did you get your period?"

I swore I saw all the breath leave her body with my question and my mind panicked, thinking she was embarrassed.

"It's fine," I rubbed her back soothingly. "I just saw some blood on the condom, that's all."

When she still said nothing, I nudged her face with my nose. "Are you alright?"

"Yep," she said quietly.

"Stay till morning?" I asked, hopefully.

Finally, she turned to face me and left a kiss on my nose. "I have to go."

My heart fell into the dark pits of my stomach as I watched her slip out from underneath the sheet to gather her clothes. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, Noah." She slipped back into her clothes rather quickly. "I just have an early flight to catch and I know you have one too."

I shook my head and stood to my feet while slipping my briefs and joggers back on. "I don't buy that. We were great, where did you go just now?"

She doesn't want to leave, I can see that in the way her movements slowed once she was dressed, almost as if she was buying time for me to say something that would change her mind. But she refused to meet my gaze.

"Angel, look at me. What's the matter?" I asked again.

"Nothing-," she began with a sigh.

"Then why won't you stay?"

The fear of her slipping between my fingers was debilitating.

"Noah, you know I can’t; we can’t," Y/N stumbled over her words.

I stretched my arms out wide at my sides. "Why? Why can’t you?"

With her gaze still cast down to her feet, she shook her head. "You don’t want me Noah, trust me, you don’t want any part of this."

"Bullshit," I spat as my anger got the best of me.

Y/N's head snapped up towards me, finally looking me in my eyes and all I saw in hers were the wetness of tears. "I have this condition that already makes my life harder every fucking month. I don't need to bring you into it and ruin our future, alright?"

My heart stopped for a few seconds. "Condition? What the fuck, are you dying or something? I don't know what the hell this means."

"No," she rushed out. "I'm not dying. I-I don't want to get into this right now. All I know is that I would need you a lot more than you'd need me. And you deserve better than me, anyway."

"Don't-" I started while pointing a finger at her.

She ran a distressed hand through her hair. "You know it’s true Noah, please. This is hard enough as it is. Walking out right now."

The bed stood between us and I hated feeling so far from her even though we were still in the same room so I walked around it, standing a few inches in front of her now.

"I’ve been through a lot of shit in my life too, Y/N. Don’t sit there and tell me what I can and can’t handle. Don’t sit there and tell me what I want or don’t want. You’re just so afraid of us," I pointed between us.

She grasped her elbows to hug herself and I could see the way her mind was running, gears turning hastily. Y/N was shutting down in front of me and I fucking hated it.

"Don’t fucking do that. I’m not him," I assured her with a gentler tone.

All of this was a trauma response, something so embedded deep into her brain that it was the only way she knew how to act. I know she felt the same way that I did; it was clear with what happened not even an hour ago. If she didn't feel the way I did, she wouldn't have shown up tonight. Y/N wants to stay, I can see it in the way her eyes keep darting to the bed but the pain and trauma were too deep.

"I’m sorry angel, I just- you’re wrong. I know how I feel about you, and I know what you feel about me."

I went to reach for her hands but she took a step back, a few tears falling to the ground below.

"I know what I feel. It’s not you, it’s me, Noah."

Not that fucking line.

"No. Fuck, angel! Stop! The future hasn't even happened yet. Please, don't-what do you need to happen?"

Her bottom lip trembled as a broken sob clawed its wait through her throat. "I-I think we need to remain friends right now. I can't-I can't get lost in you, Noah. It's so fucking easy to. I think we need space."

"I-I don't fucking want that, Y/N. I just want you."

"Noah, please understand where I'm coming from," she begged.

I paced the room, hands shaking in anger. Defeat? I wasn't sure.

"Angel-I. Please, just-," I eventually sighed in defeat.

"I'm going to head out."

Y/N nodded towards the door after gathering her things and stepped past me to leave.

The fear of losing her completely is what made me give in to her wishes. As much as I wanted to fight her choice, I needed her as a friend more than something more. I'll take what I can get for right now until she realizes she feels the same; I know she does.

As she opened the door, my feet closed the distance between us in two large steps and I grasped her chin, forcing her to look at me. The tears burned with the need to fall but she held fast and strong, refusing to show me how badly walking away was affecting her.

I brushed my lips across hers in a soft kiss. "I can wait for you."

She tried to disagree but my grip was too strong. "Noah- I can’t ask you to do that. That’s not fair. You deserve-"

“Don’t tell me what you think I deserve." I let out a shaky breath. "Look, heaven knows I’m not getting over you, I can wait”

“Besides. I’m known for having a lot of fuckin patience. I will wait." I finished with a shrug.

If I wasn't already staring intently at her, I almost would have missed the small nod she gave me; but I didn't. I saw it.

“Goodnight Noah.”

With one final kiss, not enough to remember the way she tastes, Y/N let the door shut behind her as I burned my hateful gaze through it. She left? How the fuck could she just leave after the night we had together?

No, fuck that.

I barreled through the door in time to notice she was only two doors down, frozen in her spot.

"Angel," I called after her.

Slowly, she turned, and I sucked in a breath when I saw the redness in her eyes, puffy with teh tears she let out as soon as the door closed. Mine mirrored hers.

"Please," I begged. "Just come back to me. I'll wait for you."

Y/N hesitated but within that hesitation, something stood out clear as day; she took a small step towards me until that doubt filled the back of her mind yet again. I stayed in the hallway watching as she turned the corner, disappearing from my vision and life; my words not being enough to make her stay.

Back inside the room, I let the door slam shut and made a beeline toward the minibar. I screwed off the cap of the Hennessy, downing half of it in one go.

"Bitter ends to the night. I'm along for the ride," I raised the bottle in the air before taking another long, slow gulp with my eyes screwed shut.

Suddenly, they snapped open, and I rummaged around the mess of my room for my phone, quickly typing out a text to Jolly.

I need to write a song, now.

Only a few minutes passed before he responded, just enough time for me to pop open another bottle.

Now? It's three in the morning and we have nothing here.

Doesn't fucking matter. I'll figure it out. Come to my room.

Letting the bottle slip from my fingers, I stalked over to the wall and slid down until my ass hit the floor with a thud; the image of Y/N crying and walking away burned into my brain. I was out of breath, out of time trying to stop her but, in the end, everything has a price. And I was paying for it. 

[onesaltyhunter]

Far Too Soon for a Sacrifice

Vessel x fem!reader

Summary: Sleep blesses Vessel with a gift like no other--to be used for one purpose, and one purpose only. To many, it seems to be a curse. How will he attempt to draw the line between what Sleep wants, and what he wants?

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI: we got HORRIFICALLY down bad vessel for y/n and we got smut WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO + unrealistic concert stuff my bad peeps, swearing

Key:

(y/f/n)○°○{gn!}= your friend's name--pick one! any one!

---

"Hello? Y/N? You there?" (Y/F/N) waved their right hand, their left one gripping the steering wheel.

Y/N's eyes had been focused on the road for quite some time, and she almost didn't have any response to (Y/F/N)'s attempt to catch her attention. They had begun to poke her shoulder, which caused your gaze to shift towards them.

"Do me a favor--when we get to the concert, don't awkwardly look at the band like that." They laughed, earning a small one from Y/N.

"Oh you think that's bad? Wait until I stare at them like that when you're trying to get a picture with them." Mimicking the stare she had been holding for the past several minutes, she broke into more laughter, seeing (Y/F/N) bite their inner lip to hold in theirs.

"They're gonna cancel the whole fuckin VIP session with your creepy ass."

Tonight was Y/N's first Sleep Token concert. Being quite well versed in knowledge about the band itself, alongside the unusual lore the members had so carefully fabricated--the excitement Y/N was holding in was almost incredible. The exhaustion that had been building over sleepless nights in the time she had waited for this day to come, was building up. Her eyes fluttered closed every few minutes, with an urge she's been trying to fight off for the past thirty minutes.

"Go on. Nod off if you have to. We have an hour ahead of us still, before we get there." (Y/F/N) placed their right hand on the wheel again. "You okay with taking an Uber back to your place later?"

"Yup." Y/N reclined her seat, reaching behind herself for a jacket, which she spread out on top of her. "Goodnight."

"It's 3pm."

"Yeah, yeah fuck you too dipshit."

Y/N's eyes shut, and the soft sounding rumble of the car slowly drifted away.

The hallways were lined with finished oak. Something reminiscent of and old church, or perhaps some old legislative building. Y/N lifted up a small picture frame, adorned with gold around the edges. The picture in the middle was pure black. She had believed it to only be some piece of dark paper, but it had that shine that those designated printers for the job.

Looking around one of the doorframes into the next room, she made sure that no one was around. A click resounded from above her--the igniter of a heater. Y/N immediately felt its warmth from the vent above her. Placing the picture frame down after flipping it around a few times, she looked up at the mirror in front of her. It was fairly small, one of those wall mounted ones a person would use to see how they'd look before heading out.

As she took a step away, she felt a few hairs upon her head move slightly. Glaring up at the vent above her, she pushed those hairs back into their original position. Before she could drop her hand back to her side, her wrist had been caught in a tight grip--with cold metal pressed against her skin. She soon glared at the figure that loomed above her.

The familiar white mask with a red sigil was almost falling from the figure's face. Vessel had loosened his grip on her, and in a panic, Y/N grabbed his shoulders firmly--turning him around and pressing him against the wall. Her heartbeat had only jumped from the initial startle, yet somehow, it had managed to stay at its fairly normal pace. Y/N began to question why the idea of fear seemed almost impossible to wrap her mind around.

"Oh come on now." He leaned his head forward, his warm breath soothing her with every exhale. "Don't act as if you haven't dreamt of this before. Don't act as if you've dreamt of something that delves farther into the...intricacies of one another."

Y/N grasped Vessel's necklace, pulling him closer to herself. A small moan escaped his mouth, as she snaked her hand around his neck , propping it on the back of his head. He softly pressed his lips against hers, before resting his head on hers.

Moving her arms lower, to his back, she pressed her face into his chest. Vessel stifled a small laugh with an exhale.

"My love, you're going to have paint all over your face." He wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Doesn't matter." Y/N's muffled voice caused a smile to form across Vessel's face. "There's far worse--"

"We're here!" (Y/F/N) screamed, hitting the horn a couple times--which sounded awful with the resonance of the parking structure. "Grab your shit, we gotta go."

Y/N looked at the dash, seeing the various Sleep Token songs being shuffled for what seemed to be the entire drive. Pressing the off button, she unbuckled her seat belt before stepping out of the car. Assuming that was the cause of the unusual Vessel related dream, Y/N tried her best to shake it off. But that feeling still lingered--something about that dream made it feel so... real. But again, its a mixture of having a "celebrity crush" and hormones was the basis of dreams like this, right?

Walking up to the venue with (Y/F/N), the two entered through the VIP entrance, which was lined with a lavish red velvet carpet. A few turns and the two were in front of where Sleep Token would perform. It was only moments until the band started setting up various bits needed to go about the show properly.

The VIP session was first.

"Is this close enough to have a make-out session with one of the band members or do I need to help you climb on stage to do that?" (Y/F/N) raised a brow, and earned soft punch on the shoulder from Y/N.

Being the first people to wait for the band during the VIP session, the 4 members gazed beyond the edges of the stage after going back behind it. III frantically looked at the 2 concert goers on the floor talking to each other while Vessel stood still, unwavering. His fingernails digging into the side of his thumb.

"What's wrong?" II picked up a new pair of drumsticks from a box, before sealing it up as best as possible. "The staring--it's a problem, you do realize that?"

You are infatuated with me; are you not? He thought, gazing longer at Y/N.

Y/N looked all over the room, wondering where a certain voice came from.

"You alright?" (Y/F/N) put their hand on her shoulder, leaning down a bit.

Get their hand off of yourself.

"Hey, I'm good, I'm good." Y/N chuckled. "Thought I heard a mosquito or something. Shit makes me go crazy."

That is not the only thing drives you insane, is it? What of the time we--

"I think I'm having a manic episode." She took a deep breath, crossing her arms. "The voices in my head are telling me that THEY'RE IN MY WALLS! THE FOG IS COMING!"

Y/N jokingly shook (Y/F/N), the whole near empty venue filling with their laughter. A small poking battle commenced between the two, which puzzled Vessel.

"Quit doing the mind thing with others." II patted him on the shoulder. "Sleep didn't give us these things for you to abuse them."

"They should have known better than to give them to me as well." Vessel adjusted his mask, and without any delay, Y/N's gaze darted over at him, peeking from the side of the stage.

Within minutes, there was a line forming outside for the VIP meet and greet, with (Y/F/N) and Y/N being first, as they had already stepped foot into the allotted area. Each member of Sleep Token stepped out and down from the stage, with an individual ready to help with pictures in front of them. (Y/F/N) walked up first to the four to get a picture with them. A nervous Y/N offered to take the picture of the 5 of them, and their friend gestured them to join them. She shook her head in response, smiling to be polite.

I can assure you, my love, the safest place in the world for you, is next to me. Vessel thought, as he scooted over the right for her to stand between him and II.

One really weird dream and all of a sudden the voices in my head are louder than my actual speaking voice. Y/N thought in response.

Darling, you know you've had far more 'unusual' dreams than just that. He smiled, looking down at the woman who had scooted even closer to him.

With her arms at her sides, Vessel slipped one of his hands to intertwine his fingers with hers. Y/N found it moderately unusual, but yet--not as bad as she thought it was. It was if her dreams had been brought to life. But no, this was wrong. She'd never met this man before in her entire life. To her, he'd just been a masked face and a voice behind the speaker in her house. Y/N pulled her arm away from his.

Vessel, hurt ever so slightly looked at her once again. He had to do the best to accept the possible forms of rejection as much as possible. After all, he knew he wasn't "forcing himself onto her." He had gotten to know her over time, but he was terrified to tell her.

The entire show, he couldn't get it off his mind. The woman he'd grown so fond of, over the years didn't seem to like him, no matter how much time they had spend together. Behind every word he sang that night, it was if a needle had been embedded in his heart, and it was pushed further and further in.

--time skip because I can't write lmao--

(Y/F/N) had already left, as Y/N waited for her Uber. As much as she wanted to leave, there was some ominous feeling tying her to this place. Something in her mind was screaming for her to go back--to yell back in Vessel's face about what the fuck was going on. To ask him if, if she... Her thoughts were all mashed together, and it was hard to process it all.

My love, please meet me here. Please. I don't know how much I can fare without speaking to you. Please. The voice in her head made her want to break into tears. It was if whatever emotion this voice was feeling, she could feel as well. And it hurt. So, much.

She changed the address of where her Uber was supposed to take her. The whimper in her head was too much to bear. It felt wrong to ignore it--it was like she had to console whatever it was. An urge to stop all of its pain that was completely inexplicable.

After it dropped her off at the front of it, she walked up and was about to knock on the door, but it immediately opened. Vessel, in full worship wear, leaned on the frame, almost out of breath. There were light black streaks down his neck as if he had been crying for hours.

"The dreams. They--" He paused to catch his breath. "You've dreamt of me, thrice a week, every week--for the past 6 years. They weren't just dreams, I was actually talking to--"

Y/N pressed her face into his chest, wrapping her arms around him just as she had did in her dreams before.

"You've told me all of your feelings--simple things like how your days have been. You've poured your heart out for me some nights and I've done the same." He choked behind another sob. "I approached you today thinking that this would be like any other 'dream' for you but, I just--I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"All those dreams, that was, actually you and me?" Y/N looked up at him, arms still wrapped tightly around him.

"The things we did, the ways we felt, I--I just wanted to find you." He slowly rested his chin on her head. "When I found you, I treated you poorly and I just lost control of myself."

"Those thoughts, were yours? All of them?"

"Yes."

"Could you hear mine?"

"Sometimes."

What? No complaints about me getting paint on my face? Y/N thought.

No.

You're actually fucking magic.

I'm blessed, my love.

"You really suck at talking to people you know that?" Y/N chuckled, earning a small smile from Vessel.

"That's what the dreams are for, Y/N." He exhaled. "I tend to be better at such things in that form of communication."

"Next thing I know, you're going to like propose to me or something."

"I've made plans."

"That's a new one."

"What is, may I ask?"

"How the fuck am I ever going to tell people how I got to know you?" She raised a brow, licking her lips. "Yeah, 'I met this guy through my fucking mind'."

"God, you're just as amusing as you were when we spoke a couple nights ago."

"So when we--" Y/N paused, looking down at her shoes, shuffling her feet slightly. "Did the--uh. The..."

"When we had...um" Vessel scratched his head.

"Are we both just completely unable to speak right now?" She laughed again, muddling the sounds against his chest. "Where's the awfully sensual, headstrong Vessel that wanted to have a full make-out session with me in that venue?"

"You slightly, intimidate me."

"What?"

"I thought you were a figment of my imagination until Sleep showed me, and..." Vessel slowly intertwined his fingers with hers again. "I don't want anyone else to be with you. Sleep didn't only show me, you. They showed all of us."

"II, III, and IV--they know about us?" Y/N tightened her grip on his hand.

"They want you just as much as I do. I won't let them have you. We belong to each other--I will not let anything change that, love." He led Y/N to his couch, where he laid his head in her lap. "No God, or friend of mine will stand in my way."

"You're awfully possessive of a girl you just met."

"You don't know what they want of you. What they require of me to fulfill Sleep's wishes."

"Are you going to sacrifice me, Ves?"

He remained quiet, pulling her arm to set it on his chest.

"Vessel?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I know you won't do it."

"I would do everything for you. And more."

He sat up and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. Y/N leaned into it more curling her fingers into claws and digging them slightly into the top of his back. Vessel trailed his soft pecks down until his lips met her collarbone, his canines grazing it ever so slightly. She reached for the buttons of his black jeans, and he pushed her hand away, undoing them himself. He paused all of a sudden.

"Is this too soon?" Y/N pulled back, breathless.

"We have waited far too long for one another. This is long overdue." He growled. "I won't do this here, however."

Slipping his arms under Y/N, lifting her up bridal-style, he carried her to his bedroom. Setting her down softly on his bed, she stood up.

Y/N grabbed his necklace, pulling him closer to herself--earning that one particular moan from him.

"I miss that sound." She pulled him into another kiss, but this one was not like the last.

Within minutes, Vessel's kisses became hungrier, as if he needed more that what he was getting. Being pressed up against the wall as the two of them managed to throw all of their clothes on the floor in a matter of seconds. In another kiss, Vessel's tongue begged for an entrance. Once he was let in, he ravaged all he believed to be his. Y/N's tongue grazed one of his canines, almost drawing blood, but ignored it in the moment.

Vessel's kisses trickled farther down her body yet again, and he softly pushed her onto his bed. Once his attacks reached he inside of her thigh, Y/N could not hold back a moan any longer. The mere sound of it began to illicit the deepest growl from Vessel. He lined the edges of her folds with just as many hungry kisses as he has planted on her face.

"Please, Ves." She arched her back. "I need more than that."

"Darling, you deserve far more than I could ever give you." The words escaped his lips. "But I will do my best, I promise you."

"You better."

"We shall see."

Vessel slowly pressed his member against her folds, refusing any sort of entrance he was allowed. Y/N's attempts to get any friction were fruitless.

"As I said, I will not deny you of anything you deserve."

In one stroke, his entire member had slid almost completely inside her. His pace was slow, and deadly almost, as he wanted the two of them to savor every single moment of it. Y/N pressed her lips against his again, in an almost violent clash for control. Her nails dug further into his back, causing him to hiss--and she loosened her grip.

"No, I'm fine. Don't stop that." He mumbled.

"Are you sure?"

"Don't. Stop."

Y/N placed her hands around him yet again.

"Ves, please I'm going to--"

"I know. I am as well."

The sweet release for the both of them, caused them to roll on their backs, catching their breaths.

"Were those better, or worse than your dreams?" He laid his head on her chest.

"Do you even need to ask, babe?"

"That's a new one."

"What?"

"You've never had any sort of--pet name for me."

"If you don't like 'babe,' you can get 'vessy-wessy' instead."

"Please no." His laughter rumbled as he leaned more on her shoulder.

With their legs entwined, the two cuddled up next to each other, it was as if everything, yes everything, was perfect.

"So now are you going to sacrifice me?"

"My love, it is far too soon for a sacrifice."

_______

WOOOOO YOU GOT THROUGH IT ALL

sorry for the worst smut in the world, but hey, if you didn't think this fic was awful, maybe I'll give it a PART 2??? PART II? WITH II? okay I'm done :)

[1-800-adoreyou]

RISK

Pairing - Harry x fem!reader

Words - 1.8K

Type - Smut

Warnings - smut, 18+, swearing, cheating, exhibition, praise, oral (f recieving), fingering and of course sexual content.

A/n - I figured I would try my hand at writing smut for the first time! Hope you enjoy.

It was so dangerous. So fucking dangerous. The Met Gala was overflowing with gossip-frenzied paparazzi just waiting for a story, fans and other celebrities. Don’t even get started on the fact Olivia and Florence were most likely looking for you and Harry. If someone were to stand too close to the bathroom, they would surely hear your whimpers and breathless pleas. Of course, you both hoped the music and people talking were enough background noise to cover up any clamor.

You had gone to the Met for your friend Florence’s new movie “Don’t Worry Darling”, packed with enthusiasm. You knew she would rock it out there, even with all the drama surrounding the film. You couldn’t lie, it had been rough. It was rough watching your friend grow to detest someone she once was a big fan of. And, it was rough seeing Harry with the woman he dumped you for, all those months before.

You had sworn to Florence that you would both show up, go bat-shit crazy with chaos then leave to get some mimosas back at the hotel. It was easy to agree to stick with Chris Pine, knowing he would lend you both some of whatever the hell he was taking. Plus the factor that he was just genuinely a cool person to be around.

But, Harry couldn’t help himself- not one bit. He couldn’t help his eyes wandering down your chest to where that satin red dress’ neckline ended. He couldn’t help but let his eyes gloss over how it hugged every beautiful curve, his mouth almost watering at the slit that went up to your mid thigh. He couldn’t believe how worked up he was getting over that bit of skin.

The same skin he used to be able to touch, kiss and bite. All just in the right way to make you a withering wreck under him.

Even with your ‘new’ best friend connected to your hip, he still thought you looked as ravishing as ever. Your lips were plumper than they were before, showcasing your perfect cupid’s bow. The dark merlot red that painted them drew him in, he had to break himself from his trance before a camera could catch it. He just knew he wouldn’t be able to survive without your angelic touch.

So, he settled with glares and pleading with his mind. After about thirty minutes of that, he excused himself from the woman who looked like a lemon for a ‘bathroom’ break. He was never really a good liar, but somehow she believed it. And that quickly turned into you squeezing Flo’s leg and telling her you’d be a few minutes. Then following a few feet behind Harry like a lost puppy looking for its owner.

You heard people passing by with each soundless step you took, heart beat escalating in your throat. The flashing of hundreds of cameras bought a new level of anxiety to rise into your abdomen- the last thing you needed was to be spotted with your ex. Especially after how things ended. Still, your feet carried you to the bathrooms where you just knew Harry would be waiting for you at. Just waiting.

Like a rabid lion stalking its unsuspecting prey, laying low just awaiting the right moment to attack.

The pink doors came into view, and you could see his laid back posture, clad in black designer. Was that Gucci? He was staring off into the opposite direction, and you paused. Was this a good idea? There was no way someone wouldn’t see one of the most famous men in the world slip into a bathroom with his ex-girlfriend.

Sadly, he turned before you could make the decision to run full throttle away. His lips turned upright, a cocky smile displaying upon his features. You never really liked that smirk, only because he would use it in arguments when he was right.

Fighting back an eye-roll, you looked over your surroundings to make sure there weren’t cameras on you. Once you decided the coast was clear you dashed over to Harry.

“Is someone in a rush?” His velvety voice asked, honey dipped british accent flooding your senses. That stupid smirk, you really wanted to slap it off him. He opened the door to the women's room and let you in first. He took into note the way your teeth sunk into your bottom lip.

“You started this, don’t turn it on me.” Your stared daggers into his soul, hoping he would get the memo. You bumped into his shoulder just to prove your annoyance, which resulted in him slamming the bathroom door. Someone definitely heard that. “How’s the old hag treating you?” You asked, staring up at him inquisitively.

He walked forward enough for your back to hit the cool tile, making a shiver run up your spine. “Just fine. But she doesn't let out those pretty noises you do.” His eyes surveyed you up and down, waiting for a reaction.

“I bet you're dreading the fact me and Florence are dating and she’s the only one who can hear my pretty noises.” His face twisted up in an expression you couldn’t quite place, maybe it was a mix of disgust and anger with a sprinkle of wonderment. Had you lied about dating Florence? Yeah, but you were feeling rather petty at that moment.

“Oh, yeah?” He rasped out, breaking the tensioned eye contact you two had held for the last five minutes. “If that was true you wouldn’t be here with me. You would’ve snuck off with her as soon as I started looking at you. Right?” He muttered his words harshly, dropping down to his knees in a quick, fluid motion. Your eyes trailed down to hold his gaze once more, his signature stare masked with a cocky and concentrated look.

With quick work, he hiked up the dress that hid your now wet black lace panties. He let out a low moan when he saw them, hoisting your leg over his right shoulder.

“Right.” You admitted breathlessly. “Just hurry this up, Harold. I need to get back to Florence.”

His jaw seemed to tense as his hand rose to steady your hips, moving his free hand to hook around the liner of your panties and tear them down your thighs. His finger started slowly, tracing a feather light line up your slit. He stopped at your clit, moving his finger in a counter-clockwise movement. His touch seemed to hardly be there.

Against yourself, you grabbed onto his hand that was steading you. He wasn’t letting you move at all to get more of what he was offering, even if that was a very little bit. “That’s my girl.” He spoke from between your legs, adding more pressure to the swollen button. He smiled at the string of whimpers that rolled off your lips and the way your hips pushed up for more. “Stay quiet, Darling.” he cooed from his placement on the floor, detaching his fingers from your clit.

He loved how he knew you would be moaning his name by the end of this night, not anyone else’s. He didn’t give a flying fuck who could hear, to be honest. He just adored how you would be reminded of his touch. The way he makes you feel. Before a whine could escape your lips, he attached his around your sensitive button. He knew what he was doing- he knew how to please you like the back of his hand.

He licked down your cunt, stopping at your entrance. He brought up two of his fingers. Dipping in and out, in and out. He brought his mouth's attention back to your clit, sucking and licking at it. He was like a starving man who hadn’t eaten for days, ravishing himself in the taste of you. “Does that feel good, Darling?” He asked, lifting his eyes to stare into yours, curling his fingers every few pumps. He got his answer from the string of pleas that crumbled from your throat, littering the bathroom walls with profanities.

Within a few moments, he felt your walls tighten around his fingers. He smiled, needing to feel you release all over his fingers. He dove straight back at your clit, sucking harshly and leaving little to no mercy. He moaned when he felt your fingers slide in his hair, pulling at the roots. Harry missed that feeling.

“Harry, so so so close.” You moaned out, thighs beginning to shake like leaves. Your fingers knitted further into his mess of chocolaty brown curls. The all too familiar heat spring in your stomach was just about to release, just needing a simple spur of words to rupture.

“Go on, cum on my hand and face Darling. Lemme wear you like a cologne.” And you did, with a shriek of his name and a hand whipping over your mouth to silence yourself. As much as you hated sneaking around and him, you would give anything for Harry to touch you like that again.

**** **** **** **** **** ****

“What the hell took you so long?” Florence asked, pouting her lip up at you. “I had to pretend to like Lemon Lady all by myself. How dare you put me through that?”

"Sorry, Flo. My tummy didn't agree with brunch." You chuckled, hoping to God she wouldn't medal further.

She hummed, looking over to Harry whose hair was still a mess. "Whatever you say babe." She looked at you then back at him. "Unless, those are your panties hanging from his pocket?"

[fleckcmscott]

Heebie Jeebies

Summary: It's the Halloween season and Y/N’s working against the clock. After she recruits Arthur for help, the new look he creates sends shivers down both their spines.

Words: 4,852

Warnings: Swearing, Smut

A/N: @iartsometimes​ made this request a few months ago. It's taken all this time to figure out how to get Arthur in that getup without his life falling apart. 😂 Thank you for the challenge! I hope you enjoy this story! Much gratitude to @sweet-nothings04​ for beta-reading, summary assistance, and such helpful feedback! 😃

"Terry, for the last time: I am not wearing a costume to the office."

"Come on!" Hands behind head, Terry leaned back in his chair and put his heels on his desk. "Kim and I need a Curly."

"You're stooge enough for two," Y/N said. The man might have the ability to cajole her into seasonal fundraising coupon books for his son's index of little league teams, but he'd never sell her on this.

"You're gonna be the only stick in the mud. You know that, right?"

She shoved a rubber fingertip on her pointer. "One of us has to meet clients without scaring them off."

With a lot of help from Arthur, she'd softened on Halloween. He understood the holiday was hard for her, and he'd said he wanted to change that, the way she'd changed so much for him. Since their first Halloween together, he'd taken the reins to plan a date night the last week of every October. To make the season about them. It was a gesture so loving, so considerate, it sutured the scrapes of old. A favorite had ended with caramel sliding off Granny Smith apples, and their pajama bottoms sliding to the floor.

Boundaries existed for a reason, however, and she resolved to keep them. A starry-eyed generational change had started last spring, spurred by a round of retirements. She was the brash aunt to the new graduates in her firm. Happy to help, fun the 81% of the time it was appropriate.

But she was also a professional. Attending office Christmas parties with Arthur, having a slice of cake to celebrate a colleague's birthday? Pleasantries she gladly took part in. Hell, she'd even helped decorate. Parading around in her cat costume, displaying the inner pinup she kept for her husband? Not a chance. Ruffled blouses and A-Line skirts (below the knee, thank you) were where it was at. The dish of Tootsie Rolls beside her nameplate would have to do.

She grabbed a file from the double-check pile. Its skinniness belied the hours she'd put into it. When Wanda the legal secretary had come down with the flu, the case and its subsequent court dates had tumbled into Y/N's lap. She'd spent an entire day shredding duplicates, purging unrelated documents, sorting out what wasn't needed. She skimmed the witness statements and Motion for Discovery for any typos. (Latin would never not be a challenge. Fucking up was easy when half the C's sounded like K's.) Monday's status conference was scheduled for thirty minutes. If she could get Phil to deliver a neat presentation, they'd be freed in twenty.

A turn of the page and a woman opened the office door. Clad in statement shoulder blazer and high-waisted jeans, her dress was trendier than the usual clientele. She was young, too. The baby fat of her cheeks straddled that awkward duck stage of childhood and senior year. Close cropped hair lent her a severe look her baby blues made hard to believe.

Y/N rose from behind her desk. "May I help you?"

"Uh, yeah." The woman slung a denim backpack to the front, plucked a pencil and Mead memo book from the front pocket. "I got a job at the new Halloween store? Happy Haunts? The guys in my class said they're getting more than me."

The shop's name rang no bells. "School project?" Y/N asked

"Student paper, ma'am. Gotham Screamer. I write an editorial column but Ms. Marley - she's my teacher - is letting me write a feature."

An approving grin lit Y/N's face. This teenager could have been her in 1961, whipping off never-to-be-published letters to the editor. She gestured towards the wooden chair on the opposite side of her desk.

The basics of the complaint were straightforward. The student, Miranda, had found an ad in a newspaper- she couldn't recall which - for a part-time job. Show up in costume for an interview and complete an application. That was it. With her mom on leave to take care of her ailing older brother, Miranda's household could use the extra money, especially with the holidays coming up. Her aerobics instructor outfit had gotten her an offer on the spot. Orientation was a series of VHS tapes covering employee safety, basic customer service, and how to deal with potential shoplifters. She dug out a crumpled paystub and card with the number for Human Resources, the new name for Personnel that made Y/N roll her eyes.

It was during study hall that Miranda had discovered the truth. Bobby Farin, second clarinet in the marching band, was earning thirty-five cents more an hour. That was when she'd decided to pitch the story idea to her teacher and find a labor attorney.

Pay discrimination was as illegal as it was hard to prove. The difference could be chalked up to a shift differential or prior experience. Y/N pursed her lips. "How long have you been there?"

"Three weeks. Bobby's been there two."

"Do you and the other students have the same positions? The same job titles?"

The teen shrugged. "I mean, we all do the same things."

"And those would be?" Y/N grabbed a piece of typewriter paper and jotted in shorthand.

"Stock shelves. Check out customers. Put up displays." Miranda's tone pitched up at the end of each example, as if she was asking herself. No, there were no uniforms to delineate roles. Employees could wear whatever they wanted, so long as it was festive and family friendly. No pinups.

"This next question can feel uneasy, but I do have to ask. Has your manager or boss ever asked for any favors that made you uncomfortable?"

Miranda's whole head wrinkled in disgust. "No!"

"Good. And if he had, that'd be on him, not you."

In order to be printed in the October 30th issue, the story had to be ready to go next Friday. Nothing like waiting until the last minute. The crunch recalled helping Mabel with a diorama of local flora late one night, when Y/N had been a sophomore and her little sister in fifth grade. The assembly line their mother had set up at the kitchen table, where she'd sketched flowers, Y/N had cut them out, and Mabel had smeared them with her crayons. Smudged sneezeweed and pale pink cardinal petals had earned the girl a passing grade and a teacher's note to start earlier next time.

"Keep Dube & Ellis out of the article and don't mention my name. Got it?" Y/N wrote her home number on the back of a business card, which Miranda accepted with a nod. "Have you decided what you want to do after you finish school?"

The teenager folded in on herself, her fingers knotting together. A smidge of regret tightened Y/N's eyes. Really, it was none of her business. And it was plain Miranda had been peppered with this question too often. As enterprising as this young woman seemed, she was still a girl, still finding her way in a world of a million crossroads.

But before Y/N could excuse herself, the girl answered. "My mom wants me to study. School's fun and all, but I dunno if I even wanna go to college."

"There's plenty of time to figure it out. If you're interested in a field like this-" Y/N indicated the office with a bob of her head. "Let me know. A lot of firms have shadowing programs. Sometimes it just takes a day or two to learn what you can't stand." Miranda loosened enough to let a chuckle slip and snag a piece of candy.

Y/N noted the girl's phone number, folded the paper into thirds, and stuffed it in her purse, between her compact mirror and coin clutch. "If you don't hear from me by Wednesday, give me a call. Try my apartment first. I look forward to reading your article."

~~~~~

Arthur hoisted the beach ball of a pumpkin on the kitchen counter. "What're all those for?"

Felt-tipped pen in hand, Y/N was bent over the Gotham Herald, one of the newspapers strewn across the laminate. She'd made a run to the nearest newsstand post-bacon and eggs, then spent the rest of the morning sipping coffee and scanning classifieds. Among requests for day laborers, pleas for receptionists, and ads for investment opportunities (a.k.a. easy methods to say goodbye to life savings), she'd found a number of similar postings. Seasonal positions, no experience necessary, all with addresses and phone numbers in Delaware.

"You see this here?" Her nail tapped a Help Wanted. "I've found the same mistake in four classifieds. This should be 'ASAP.'"

"Maybe that's not what they meant," he said, and sneaked past her arm to tug at the corner of the Post.

"'Looking to hire ASP?'" She pushed the abandoned pages his way. "Unless they want a snake, I don't see an alternative."

He snagged her pen to draw triangular eyes on the squash's orange skin. Y/N closed the paper in an effort to force her moonlighting from her mind. A round nose came next, traced around a drinking glass. A classic bucktoothed jack-o-lantern smile. When he drove a serrated knife through the top, she held the pumpkin steady with both hands. About two-thirds of the way through a circle around the stem, the top started to sink in.

He grumbled. "Shit, I got the angle wrong."

"It's all right. Toothpicks will hold the lid." She laid the newly fashioned lid in the sink, careful not to get its stringy pulp on the possible evidence that continued to itch her brain stem. Shutting the newspapers in the bathroom for the day would've been the smarter choice. But watching Arthur conjured another strategy, one she could share like a holiday tradition.

She offered a steel serving spoon. "Would you help me with what I'm investigating? I need a man to test something."

His quirked brow asked what on earth she could be investigating. And if he could test it now.

Sidling nearer, she relayed the student's claims, the steps she'd taken so far. Y/N had called the spook shop only to have it ring and ring. On the sixth try, she'd finally reached a manager. The boss did all the hiring, he'd claimed. Go ahead and pop in the next day. During her lunch hour, she'd sneaked to the public restroom off her office building's lobby, changed into the forest leggings and oversized sweatshirt she'd stuck in her court bag. Not a costume, per se, but out of character enough to count as a disguise. When she'd slipped out onto the sidewalk, her colleagues had been none the wiser.

As soon as she'd entered the store and introduced herself, the boss had looked her up and down. The befuddled set of his round face let her in on the fact that she was a little older than expected, bordering on ancient. "This is an after-school job," he'd said, still squinting.

"I know, sir. But my husband's hours were cut at Trident and-" She'd widened her eyes, endeavored an expression both appealing and pitiful. "You've got to have someone for the morning hours, right? Just a couple days a week? It'd mean so much."

For a split second he'd softened, shoulders sagging on a heavy sigh. "You'll have to provide your own costume."

Pay was $3.35 an hour, minimum wage and the same as the last four years. Schedules were posted on the corkboard in the back office every Thursday, but she could expect to work afternoons and weekends. In a tone Y/N assumed was meant to be caring, he'd added, "I'm sure your husband wants you home to cook dinner."

She'd spoken through a clenched smile. "I'll be sure to bake him a cake."

Pumpkin guts plopped on the Post. Y/N wrapped an arm around Arthur's back at the waist. "You could wear your Carnival outfit."

"But what if he recognizes me?"

Kindness was her usual reaction when he overestimated his own prominence. After all, he was immensely prominent to her. She pecked his bicep. "With your ingenuity, you're sure to come up with something. You did invent the best clown in Gotham."

Grinning, he tucked his chin. "I wouldn't mind a cake. Apple coffee's good."

She made a mental note to buy canned biscuits. "If you do this, I'll double the recipe."

~~~~~

An emergency hearing had delayed the status conference to the end of the day, throwing a wrench into Y/N's well-laid presentation. Arthur was halfway through dinner when she got home, apologized for being late, and marched to the dining table to eat with one fork and document what she'd realized on the train.

Before he rinsed his plate and slunk off to his writing nook, she detected a huff and shake of the head. But amends would be made later. She had a deadline and was going to meet it.

Wanda's case was also a complaint about unequal pay. Also from a woman (well, a group of women). Also from a fly-by-night business, a shop that sold tchotchkes to disappointed tourists in Gotham Square from Memorial to Labor Day. While reviewing paystubs from the court file, Y/N noticed the business name included DBA. Doing Business As. The same as on Miranda's paystub - and Delaware PO Boxes to boot. With any luck, Y/N could cross reference the zip codes, contact the public records office, and uncover who rented them. If they were held under the same parent corporation, it'd give her firm's case a boost.

Never underestimate the inability of money in a hurry to cover its tracks.

"I think I figured out my new look," Arthur's animated voice called from the living room. Rhythmic footsteps fell across the carpet.

Her pen poked a constellation on the phonebook's zip code page. "Hm?" She underlined 19891 and looked up. Her jaw dropped.

There he stood, lounging on the kitchen doorway by the dining nook, one hand in his pocket, the other braced on the wall. He'd slicked his chestnut waves into submission, its sheen a clue he'd used a tad too much of her mousse. Save for the smidgen of peach skin at his hairline, stark white adorned his visage, sharpened already cutting cheekbones. Ruby brows danced mid-forehead, the usual triangles framing his eyes now tinged a cool cyan. His rubber nose was on break, replaced by precise red brushstrokes along the aquiline tip and around his nostrils.

Carnival's smile was practiced. Controlled. Outlined in an even-keeled black. This smile extended well past Arthur's dimples to decorate his cheeks, like a cat who'd outsmarted all the others to get the last lick of whipping cream. Wild and carefree, it'd broken its bars. The perfect analogy to his self-assuredness blossoming over the years.

The suit was brighter somehow, a fiery red, either due to the teal shirt he'd paired with it or the confidence he carried. Mustard vest had usurped the matching waistcoat. She ogled his lean legs, lengthened by the long lines of his trousers. The same trousers he'd worn the night she remembered like yesterday. His beguiling beauty. His hesitant but hungry body pressed into hers in the elevator. The belt loops her greedy fingers hooked through...

Riveted to her seat, she wet her lips. "Does he have a name?"

"Not yet. Any ideas?"

The butt of her pen tapped her chin. This clown wasn't as innocent as Carnival. Mischief lurked beneath the surface, a roguish tease. The private side of the man she knew revealed. A term she'd read in her statute reference book emerged. She did her best to pronounce it. "Accessio." She got the hard C right this time.

"What's that?"

"It's an ownership term for when two things combine to make something new. Like when seeds are planted in a farmer's field. The farmer would own the crops. Or how you've taken my favorite parts of Carnival and combined them with that suit."

Scrunching his nose, he slid one foot forward. "That's nice but doesn't roll off the tongue."

"Well, it's only used in court." She returned to the phonebook, considered the clowns at the county fair when she was a kid. "Mr. Jingles? Buster?"

"I'm asking about a job I don't want. I'll tell the guy I'm..." Making his way behind her, he laid a hand on her shoulder. Heat prickled the nape of her neck. "Arthur Harris."

Love curved her mouth, a glow flowing through her. Though she adored having his name, that he'd chosen her maiden made her feel as treasured as his journal. She flipped another page of zip code listings. "You might want to lose that vest. It's very distracting."

Fingertips kneaded the hollow of her collarbone, stroked a firm line up her throat. "Am I distracting you?"

"Yes," she said, a little shaky.

"Good." He crouched next to her, his breath a whisper on her temple. "What'll you wear next week?"

"My cat costume."

He traced the seam of her sleeve. The temptation that roused every pore. "You've worn it four years in a row."

"You've made love to me in it four years in a row."

"I wanna see you in something else. Like you did me." A gentle cupping of her breast over her blouse. He lifted it, molded it to his palm. He skimmed her nipple and it pebbled under his touch. He chuckled and thumbed it again.

Seduction hadn't been bargained for tonight. She laid her pen across the paper and turned towards him. His gaze traversed her face, clear green searched her eyes. A raffish grin deepened his crow's feet. The suggestion in that grin parched her throat. An ache bloomed across her flesh, every square inch of her suddenly awake. The tip of her nose brushed his.

Damp lips pressed to hers, covered her mouth. His tongue plundered and the chalky taste of greasepaint bit her tastebuds. Pulses jolted, hearts thundered. She cupped the back of his neck to make the delicious connection firmer. He moaned, low and rumbling. The vibration charted a path down each knob of her spine, a fleeting flutter in her center.

Intent on grabbing those belt loops again and laying him on the nearest plush surface (the carpet would suffice, the sofa better), she shoved the chair from the table. But before she could push herself to unsteady feet, he knelt before her. Wandering hands hurried past her stomach. Sneaked beneath her hemline. He pecked her knee, grazed her thigh, nestled at the wool shielding her hip. His nearness made her senses spin.

Except for common sense. She ahemed, breathed a breathless warning. "You'll get paint on my skirt."

"Take it off, then." A hot-blooded challenge, impossible to resist.

He didn't wait for an answer. He popped open the buttons at the small of her back. Straightening her legs, she lifted herself an inch off the seat. One, two, three tugs and the offending garment was on the floor.

A deep frown, exasperation even his painted-on smile couldn't conceal. "Pantyhose?"

Y/N's snort would've been a cackle if it hadn't caught in her nose. She usually wore thigh-highs, making access quicker than lightning. "My stockings had a run in them." His pinky caressed the back of her knee. As he set to stripping them off, she balanced herself on her elbow and gave a necessary instruction. "Don't rip these. They're my last pair."

Pop! went the first snap of her blouse. The second, the third. But Arthur's nimble fingers abandoned her shirt to yank away her panties. His mouth went to the crease of her thigh. He guided one leg to splay wider, the other to rest on his shoulder. Thumbs held her open. His breath shivered against her tender flesh, nose dragging through her downy curls, dark and now peppered with red. Wanton gleam in his stare, he smiled.

He licked the rigid line of her clitoral hood, stopping just above the swollen spot where she needed him most. Every nerve sparked with anticipation. She really couldn't get enough of seeing him between her legs like this. A wicked thought, a secret sin to be savored with him. The tip flitted from side to side, a careful caress when she was feeling reckless. Sticky with perspiration, she wriggled her bottom to the edge of the chair. Carded through his curls and traced his sideburn. His tongue flattened to rub her folds, wandering circles that knew exactly where they wanted to be.

After a minute, he withdrew for a gulp of air. Liquid heat had streaked makeup from his chin, smudged the margins of his pristine smile, blended ivory and crimson into a pleasing pink. She studied herself, where the shade stained her vulva, the generous streaks of white where her inner thighs had met his cheeks. It was the kind of marking he'd made her love, a brand that healed.

Bending to her again, he kissed her in the same manner he'd kiss her mouth. Thin lips fondled her clit, suckled steadily. On a whine, her hips twitched upward, begged for this to never end. Please, each swivel said. Don't ever stop.

​But then his ministrations faltered, losing their deliberate pace.

The rip of a zipper. Whispers of folding fabric. The frantic sound of skin on skin. 

Awareness speared her, excitement startled a gasp. He was touching himself. Touching himself while kissing her most intimate secret, where she was wet and desperate. That this would so thoroughly inspire him spurred her on. Emboldened her fingers to take his place, work together with him to pleasure them both. Eyes squeezed shut, she pictured the firm grasp of his masculine hand on his shaft, the way he'd curl his fingers to tease the head.

She flattened her palm on the table. Squirmed and nudged his flank with her knee. Beckoned him with a plaintive, "Come here..."

​He scooted forward. Dragged the glans along her silky seam. When she arched towards him, he eased his erection past her inner labia. Sunk into her with the practiced slowness of a lover who wants to relish every time like it's the first.

Filled to the brim, Y/N grasped the lapels of his suit jacket. "I want you."

His brow met hers. "I'm yours."

Sweat from his temple smeared her cheek. He palmed the curve of her hip, yanked her flush to him. Thrust and thrust again, each plunge ending on a clipped grunt. He tugged at the cups of her bra. The cotton of his vest scrapped her dusky peaks.

The chair thudded across the linoleum. Thump. Thump. Thump. The spindles of the chair dug her back. The slide of him within her walls, the delectable stretch of him. He burned her. He seared her.

"You feel so good," she cried, calf clutching him closer.

"Oh, god-"

He bucked quicker. Harder. Raising herself to meet him in this position was nearly impossible, so she let him take over. Parted lips charted her shoulder, shoved the collar of her blouse aside. Gritted teeth pressed the crook of her neck. All at once, his hips locked with hers, their jutting angles softened by polyester. A splash inside her, harsh, short pants at her ear.

He slipped out of her, straightened enough to stroke her needy nub. She moaned, her lips forming an O. Their mouths locked, a lingering kiss where his tongue traced the enticing shape. Pressure built in her loins, her thighs and abdomen quivered. The kiss grew harder, urgent, like he was starving for her to join him in euphoria. He cupped her jaw, wove into her hair, gave it a firm tug.

She snapped, breaking away to bury her face in his shoulder. Her right foot spasmed, hard enough to start a Charlie horse. Still holding his jacket in a white-knuckle grip, her hands shook with exertion. The pull of her tresses shifted to a gentle cradling, a place of safety where she could dissolve. Her body melted into his and her world was filled with him.

Sloppy and sedate, Arthur lapped the top of her breasts. "You're red all over."

A full flush covered her torso and arms, greasepaint had swirled all over her cleavage, stained the placket of her blouse. She could imagine the candy apple state of her cheeks. His suit hadn't faired much better. White had gotten on the lapels, pink had somehow hitched a ride to its front flaps. The two of them were an absolute mess. She checked her watch. If she hurried, she could clean up in five, then run their clothes to the dry cleaner and pay an extra $3.25 for overnight service.

Giddy, she wiped her forehead with her sleeve and laughed when it came away blue. "I, uh. I think you found your disguise."

~~~~~

Y/N opened the oven a tentative inch, peered inside with narrowed eyes. Golden brown peaks, pecans that hadn't yet burnt, gooey apple cinnamon bottom. It was a dessert fit to serve, courtesy of Nickel's Mills Food Products, Putting the Happy in Home. Her mitted hand grasped the round pan and set it on the counter to cool. Mixing powdered sugar with apple cider to make the glaze was the final step. (And remembering to add it after the cake stopped steaming.)

She poured candy onto an orange treat tray, arranged mini Marathon bars and packets of Fun Dip, plus a couple of Vigilante jaw breakers thrown in for good measure. GCN's five o'clock news was about to start, so she had one ear tuned to the TV. The familiar opening theme led to a jolly "Happy Halloween!" from the anchor and a hearty honk! honk! from the weatherman. Smiling, she thought on the suit and teal button-up she'd laid out on the bed, ironed and starched and ready to go.

The doorbell rang. Every year trick-or-treating seemed to start earlier. The jack-o-lantern wasn't even out yet, and Arthur hadn't gotten back to greet the youngsters. Nevertheless, she snagged her pointy hat from the table, tidied her oversized silver belt and jagged polyester skirt, squeezed her toes into stiletto black heels. Candy platter on her hip, she hurried to open the door.

Replete in his Carnival outfit - save for a painted nose - Arthur beamed down at her. "Trick or treat."

Giggling, she grasped his tie and pulled him in for a kiss, then pulled him into the apartment and kissed him again. "Mm, you taste sweet. You must've had a bag of candy. How was the clinic?"

"Busy but nice. The kid I told you about, Charlie, got to go home today."

"He was there for, what, four months?"

"Yeah." Arthur dropped his prop bag, stripped off his wig and laid it across the top. "They booked me for Thanksgiving and Christmas, too," he continued, running his fingers through his curls. The booking was a formality at this point, but it was an accomplishment she knew he was proud of. She was happy to hear it. And she had one more thing that'd swell his chest.

He stretched his arms above his head, out to the sides. On a yawn, he turned to the kitchen. "What smells so good?" He sniffed the air again and went straight to the stove to stare at the cake, eyes as wide as a kid's who'd gotten a full-sized candy bar in his pillowcase.

"Another ten minutes and it's all yours. Here, look what we got in the mail," she said and handed him the latest issue of the Gotham Screamer, already open to the necessary article. A post-it note obscured the headline: Thanks a lot, Mrs. Fleck! She watched him scan the paper, the corners of his lips betraying when he reached the part she'd underlined.

A helpful legal aide and her enterprising husband uncovered proof of Happy Haunts' unfair and illegal pay practices. We hope that next Halloween season, Gotham High's Hawks will flock to another store for their far-out costumes. Next issue: the five best thrift stores in Rogers.

"Thanks for your assistance, enterprising husband." Y/N hugged him tight about the middle. "You more than earned that cake."

He plucked a corner from the dessert and plopped it in his mouth. Twisting in her arms, he took her hand, stepped back to study her. He rolled the dark purple mesh of her sleeves between forefinger and thumb. "You know, you're a cute witch. Are you gonna put a spell on me?"

"Actually, there's a love potion in the dough. Sugar and spice and honey that's nice." She curved towards him, kissed him once more. "I do have another favor to ask. For after the trick-or-treaters are gone." It was a favor that'd given her the heebie jeebies all week. His hold on her tightened, as though he were reading her mind. Eyelashes lowered, she bit her bottom lip. "Would you put the suit and teal shirt back on? I want to take them off you."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​ @ithinkimaperson​ @sweet-nothings04​ @stephieraptorr​ @rommies​ @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1​ @another-day-in-chuckletown​ @hhandley80​ @jokerownsmysoul​ @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics​ @iartsometimes​ @fleckficgirl​

[super-cosmic-library]

Part 4

part 3, part 2, part 1, ao3

“His dad literally tried to shove me into a locker, Chris,” Eddie whined as he washed the rest of the homemade avocado facemask off his face. “He was such a cliché bully, it was boring. And Steve looks almost exactly like him, but somehow I’m turned on by him? Am I actually insane?”

Chrissy rolled her eyes. Eddie had been going on about Steve nonstop since they dropped him off. At first, it was cute to see her best friend all flustered by his crush, but after a nearly thirty-minute monologue about the guy’s ass while the two did their end-of-week skincare routines, she was ready to change the subject.

“You need a drink?” Chrissy hollered from the kitchen, taking a can of La Croix from the fridge for herself. It filled her with warmth every time she saw them in there. She knew Eddie kept those drinks in there just for her. Neither of the men who lived there drank the stuff.

“Yes, please. God, I’m famished.”

She grabbed an already open bag of blood and shut the door behind her.

She’d known her best friend was a vampire for a long time. She had kind of figured it out when they started hanging out her junior year and she’d realized he had been a senior since she began high school. She didn’t know what the teachers thought, but she’d reasoned that there was no way someone could go through senior year that many times and not just drop out altogether. There had to be a bigger reason.

She took Eddie’s favorite mug—a plain white one with the words “World’s Foxiest Grandma” written in black and a picture of Garfield in a curly grey wig, a green knit shaw, and pink readers on it—off the rack on the wall and poured it half full with blood. He never needed much more for a feeding.

She placed what little remained in the bag back in the fridge, then passed the mug over to Eddie as he entered the kitchen, fresh-faced and mischievous. Although, he almost always had a mischievous glint in his eye. It was a practically permanent fixture.

She cracked open her sparkling water as he took a long sip from his mug.

“Remind me to never skip feeding ever again,” he said, licking blood from his upper lip.

She shook her head, unimpressed that a man his age struggled with taking basic care of himself. “How you’ve been able to keep yourself alive for so long is beyond me.”

“Wayne.”

“You’re a grown-ass man, and you let your brother take care of you?” Chrissy didn’t get to swear at home or anywhere else her mom might hear of it, so she reveled in doing so in the privacy of the trailer.

“What can I say? My brother is my keeper, or whatever the fuck they teach in Sunday school.”

“The fact that you know that much is impressive,” she said, vaguely remembering something like that from her own years of Sunday morning bible classes.

“Excuse you, I read my Bible every day and go to church on Sundays.”

“I find that hard to believe. You’d burst into flames if you set foot in a church, and that’s not even because of the whole vampire thing. That’s just a you thing.”

Eddie grinned wickedly. “You flatter me.”

She gave his shoulder a good shove, and he cackled in response.

Eddie threw a bag of popcorn in the microwave and started rifling through the cabinets for any other junk foods that tickled his fancy. The first time they had a “girl’s night,” Chrissy had been amazed by the abundance of junk food the Munsons had. She knew people bought things like snack cakes and potato chips, otherwise, why would stores stock them? However, because her pantry had always been filled with dried fruits, rice cakes, and almonds for snacks, she thought that was how it was for everyone. This thought had only been reinforced by her friends on the squad having very similar pantries, at least from what she saw when she went to sleepovers and study sessions at their houses.

Her mother had spent years drilling into her head how bad junk food was for her health. Growing up, the only times she ever got to have dessert were when she went to her grandma’s house. Even then, it was only one oatmeal raisin cookie after dinner. She was never allowed to eat cake at her classmates’ birthday parties. She didn’t even get to eat ice cream–only frozen yogurt with fresh fruit toppings. And afterward, her mom would force her to go on runs with her to burn off the calories.

So when Eddie first started offering her snacks when she came over, she was hesitant, to say the least. Of course, she was worried about what would happen to her figure if she ate even a single Oreo. How could she not be, after being drilled on the dangers of processed foods? But more than that, she was scared of how her mother might react if she found out Chrissy had eaten something that contained trans fats. And she would know it, right? Her mom would be able to smell the high fructose corn syrup on her breath, right?

Chrissy about damn near had a panic attack the first time she accepted an Oatmeal Cream Pie from Eddie. It was made with oatmeal. It had it in the name! It should have been healthy, right? But her body had betrayed her after she finished half of it. It wasn’t used to eating something that had more than three ingredients listed on the package. So as her stomach cramped, all she could think about was how disappointed her mother would be.

Chrissy had contemplated going to the bathroom to force herself to throw up. She knew bulimia was dangerous, so she only did it on occasion and only when she had access to a toothbrush. However, she could make an exception. Especially, she felt as bad as she had.

She hadn’t realized she was crying until Eddie asked her what was wrong.

There was something about him that made her feel safe. Like she could be herself around him and talk without a filter, and he wouldn’t judge her or talk behind her back about it. It was something she noticed during their first interaction and the feeling only grew stronger the more they became friends.

That night, she’d broken down and confessed her tumultuous relationship with food–something she had never done aloud. Eddie had sat there silently and listened as she poured out her heart. All of the not gettings and the not wantings and all of the instant regrettings. It left her feeling exposed and scared, though not because of what his reaction to all of it might be but because of what these issues she struggled with might mean about her.

When she had finished, he’d tried his best to comfort her. He had tried to talk things out with her. It helped a little, but the problem was rooted so deep, it had taken months of patient encouragement and talking with Wayne about what an actual healthy diet could look like (and not the crap the women in her mom’s Facebook groups shared) to get to where she was now.

She knew she wasn’t “fixed.” She knew she would always struggle with food to some extent. But now she could eat a slice of veggie pizza for dinner and have Eddie-approved snacks and not have a meltdown afterward. After years of drowning in her mother’s trendy diets and daily exercise regimens, she finally felt like she could breathe.

Chrissy grabbed a bag of M&Ms and poured some into the metal popcorn bowl. If she left Eddie to do it, he would forget to put them in until after the popcorn, which meant they would lose precious time warming up under the heat of the popped kernels. And Chrissy liked them warm.

She padded over to the living room in her fuzzy penguin socks to connect her laptop to the Munsons’ shitty little TV and pull up YouTube.

“No, not this movie again,” Eddie groaned as the intro music to But I’m a Cheerleader filled the room.

“It’s a classic!” She gasped. “Do you hate classics?”

Eddie plopped down on the couch behind her, popcorn bowl resting in his lap. “Only when we’ve already watched them a million times.”

“It has not been a million times.” Chrissy sunk into the couch next to him.

The couch, like many other things in the Munson trailer, was much older than her. She would argue that those things were also much more well-loved than her, but that would start an unwinnable argument between the two of them.

It was one of those couches where the springs were kind of busted and the cushions could no longer keep their shape, so you felt like you were going to be swallowed up whenever you sat down. Then, when two people tried to sit on it, they would always end up tumbling to the center of the couch, all pressed up against each other.

The first time Chrissy ever visited the trailer, she made the mistake of trying to sit next to Eddie on it. She still swore (jokingly) that she had almost been crushed to death by him because of it.

Chrissy loved Eddie’s home because it was nothing like hers. Eddie and Wayne didn’t decorate to impress company as her mother had. They decorated with things that made them happy, like Wayne's hat and mug collections that were displayed along the ceiling of the living room or the framed and completed jigsaw puzzle hanging above Wayne’s sitting chair. It gave the place more character than the abstract paintings her mom had found at Home Goods. Ones that looked like they belonged in a hotel room rather than the house of a suburban family.

The Munsons’ furniture was practical and useful. The tables weren’t replaced because they were mismatched. The lamps were repaired when they broke. Pieces were thrifted and not in the way Chrissy’s mom “thrifted” things–by strolling through different discount stores or scrolling through Wayfair and Etsy. No, these things were found at Goodwill and the Salvation Army. Chrissy should know. When their box TV finally gave out, it was Chrissy and Eddie who spent all day scouring the local thrift stores in search of a new one–picking up clothes and other tchotchkes that caught their eyes and they went along.

The entire trailer was always clean; however, it was also constantly cluttered. This was primarily due to Eddie’s inability to focus on a single task, often setting things down the forgetting they existed. This led to half-painted minis and bottles of paint left on the coffee table. Campaign notes, unfinished homework assignments, and paper scraps of scribbled song lyrics stacked on the kitchen table. A can of hairspray sat next to the toaster. And dozens upon hundreds of guitar picks in the carpet, next to the kitchen sink, in the cupboards, on the bathtub ledge, behind the dryer, wedged between the couch cushions, and so many other places Chrissy couldn’t possibly begin to fathom. The space felt lived in. Unlike her own home, where unless the place was shining, sparkling, and spotless, it was considered a pigsty.

So, yeah, Chrissy preferred spending her time at her best friend’s home much more than she did at her own home.

As the montage of the campers “learning” traditional gender roles played, Chrissy pulled out her box of nail supplies. “What color this week.”

He took a contemplative sip from his mug. “I’m feeling blue.”

“Really?” She asked, setting aside the black nail polish she had been taking out for him. He usually only ever had his nails painted black. On one occasion, he wanted them blood red, but he spent the following days complaining about how bright they were until he finally picked all of the paint off.

“Yeah. Kinda want to switch things up.”

“And this has nothing to do with the blue sweater Steve wore tonight?”

“I am offended that you would accuse me of such behavior.”

“So it has nothing to do with Steve?”

“Absolutely not.” He plucked a midnight blue bottle of nail polish out of her carrying case. The color was so dark, it was nearly black, but there was a slight shimmer to it that one could tell it wasn’t. Maybe she had been wrong, she conceded.

She picked out a lime green color for herself and handed it to Eddie. The two slid down to sit on the floor, so they could use the coffee table to use as a workspace. Chrissy laid her hands palms down on a paper towel. Eddie uncapped the bottle and began to carefully brush the cool paint on her nails.

When they started doing each other’s nails, Chrissy had been surprised at how well Eddie was able to paint hers. Back when they were dating, whenever she asked Jason to help her with her left hand, he always bemoaned doing something so “girly” (his words). Then, he would do such a shit job at actually painting them, that most of the time she would have to scrub it off with nail polish remover and attempt to do it herself to slightly better results. Despite his attitude, she could tell that Jason had actually tried his best to help her out–his face twisting, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. It wasn’t some sort of attempt at weaponized incompetence, simply inexperience and shaky hands. Even though his complaining had made her feel small, she couldn’t fault him for not trying.

Eddie’s hands, by contrast, were meticulously still. She supposed it made sense due to all of the miniature Dungeons and Dragons figurines he enjoyed painting. He’d ensure the brush wasn’t overloaded with paint, then carefully apply each layer, swiping around her nail with his to collect any excess paint. Because he did this, her nails were always the ones to get painted first. That way, he wouldn’t get any brightly colored paint on his fresh dark nails.

“All joking aside, I’m glad that Steve was able to come tonight. He’s a fun guy. I like how he makes you light up.”

With his wild hair pulled up in a top bun, she was able to see his cheeks flush. “Shut up.”

“It’s true!” She laughed, careful not to jostle her hands. “I like seeing you happy.”

“Well, we should have him bring Buckley next time. How’s that sound, Chris?”

Chrissy turned tomato red. “I swear to god, Eddie.”

“What? What do you swear?” He challenged her.

“I’ll kill you.”

“Pfft,” he waved her off. “That’s an empty threat. You know I can’t die.”

“Then I’ll find a way to end you. Or maybe I’ll just lock you in a coffin and bury you alive. That way you’ll never get out.”

“Cold, Cunningham. Metal, but cold.”

“Thank you.” She grabbed a few pieces of popcorn with the hand Eddie hadn’t painted yet, and popped them in her mouth.

He watched her as she ate. He did that sometimes. It was a little strange, but she knew it came from a place of concern. He wanted to know that she was taking care of herself. Even though she sometimes wanted to shove his face away from her direction, she couldn’t fault him for worrying. She worried about him too.

She worried about what the people in their small-minded town would do if they found out what he was. She was well aware that people in her parents' circles believed with their whole hearts that things like demons and Halloween witches were real. She’d heard some of them rile themselves up by talking about burning witches alive like it was seventeenth-century Salem and not twenty-first-century Hawkins. She wasn’t sure what her parents thought of their friends' righteous rages, but the sheer fact of their keeping those friendships meant Chrissy had to sneak around if she wanted to be herself.

They didn’t know she was friends with Eddie Munson, let alone about their weekly girls’ nights. She let them think she was sleeping over at a teammate’s house. They didn’t know she was a lesbian, despite the rumors at school, or about the Tarot cards and crystals she kept under her bed. She knew that her parents loved her, even though they had a difficult time showing it. But she didn’t know if that love would change if they knew these things. She didn’t really want to know. She looked forward to the day she left for college and would be able to stop feeling like she was sneaking around all the time.

“Maybe we could invite Robin next time?” She said, timidly.

“Fuck yeah,” he pumped his fist in the air. “Mark my words, we are getting you a girlfriend.”

Chrissy giggled. She was really going to miss him when college started next fall.

Tag list:

@yourebuckingkiddingme @mickalaem @live-the-fangirl-life @mojowitchcraft @gregre369 @farfaras @loguine-linguine @spectrum-spectre @sidekick-hero @rozzieroos @steddieloverrr @hellion-child @ littlewildflowerkitten @ novacorpsrecruit @ rainbow-freckle @anaibis @ madigoround @ estrellami-1

[quiet-girl-short-stories]

A Quiet Girl's Beginnings

Only Cassie could think death would be better than having to deal with another human being for thirty minutes. Well, maybe it would be better just to die rather than humiliate herself and have to deal with that for the rest of her life, as it would haunt her at three in the morning.

Though, she figured she really would die if she didn't take this chance. As years went on, having good employment only crept up on her.

Currently, Cassie sat in the middle of a lobby area with a group of others who were also minding their own business. By now, Cassie knew pretty much everything in the room; from how long she had been here to how many times that one guy in the corner reached to adjust himself, but she knew all that meant was that she'd be called into her interview soon.

She wondered if her breath stunk, she thought about this outfit her mom helped her with, she guessed it looked good, but was it too much? Was that one of the points they were looking out for? Cassie agonized internally while reaching for her water to take a calm drink. She shut the lid and told herself once more

I want to die

A few minutes had passed and a woman came out calling Cassie's name.

"Ms. Ann?" Cassie instantly got up and she tried to calm herself. The woman smiled and began to guide her to the room where she was going to be interviewed at.

Shit couldn't get any worse than this, Cassie thought. It was likely going to be some old creepy dude who thought he could get in with her and that would be her only way to get what she wants from him. While she didn't want to think all business people were like that, it was hard not to.

The pair walked to the end of the long hallway. It grew quiet and eventually they reached the interview room. The woman got to the door and opened it for Cassie to go inside. Once she did, the door close and Cassie instantly felt the cold of the room, she hoped her shiver hadn't been too visible as the man inside had looked up right as she entered.

Though, she wanted to change her earlier statement; it was likely going to be some young creepy dude who thought he could get in with her and that would be her only way to get what she wants from him.

This man was beautiful and while she still wouldn't be alright with the idea of him taking advantage of her, boy was this a step up.

He gave her a smile and got up to greet her. "Good morning Ms. Ann."

She took his hand and felt like it'd be weird if she squeezed it. "Good morning to you as well."

He smiled and walked back to the desk. "Please, sit." At that, she took the seat across from him, once he sat down, he was quick to start the interview. "Now, I normally don't ask questions in the beginning, but I want to know why you think you're going to benefit me and my company. How do you feel you'll be an asset to us?"

With a small breath, Cassie began to talk as fluently as she could. She went through all her points; how good she thought her writing was, where she was willing to go with her writing and other things she lied about, but he didn't know any better and by the time it was over she still wanted to die.

While she spoke, she paid attention to his features--as gorgeous as they were-- and realized he had made no facial expression after she began to talk, which only made it that much harder for her to know was she doing alright or not. Once she finished, however, she saw a smile come to his face.

Welp, he's glad I'm done.

"I'll have to take your word on most of this, but since you did include a small portfolio of your writing, I was going over them last night." Oh fuck, that's not good! "I do believe you bring something new to our company and I can only see it helping us." Just smile and nod. "However," Fucking of course, "I don't know if we can outright put you with us. Taking a chance on someone like you would cause a big problem if you fall through. I doubt that you would, but this is a business after all."

"I understand." That essentially you painted the word liability all over me.

"So I decided, after the few others I've considered for this position, I'm instead going to make a group of those like you, you'll all learn from each other, help each other and then eventually be put to work full time."

"Really?"

"Really." He repeated.

"So... this means I technically got the job?"

"Yes, that is the correct wording. You'll be paid half your salary and once you prove to me that I can hire you full time, you'll see the rest of that paycheck."

Cassie couldn't contain her smile, but she kept it under wraps and just stood up once he did. "I-I can't thank you enough for this!"

He chuckled. "It's no problem... Cassie." First name basis already? "Of course, since you aren't an employee yet, just know I can and will cut ties with you if something bad were to happen. Though, with someone like you I wouldn't want to see you go so soon."

Cassie felt weird about that, but maintained her smile. Are you saying that in a professional way or a 'I've been staring at your skirt this whole time' way? Because your glasses don't hide a thing.

"Of course, I'll work hard and you can depend on me Mr. Wry!"

"Oh and it's alright to call me Ankara, no need to refer to me as Mr. or anything."

Now that's even weirder... "Alright Ankara, whatever work you have for me, I'll be willing and waiting!"

With the grin on her face, he returned it; and as so, this began the start of this quiet girl's adulthood...

[e1igius]

the series of texts sank his stomach faster than a led ball in water. the light on his phone flashing her name , followed by the misspelled ( even his dyslexic ass could see that ) word for trouble. deciphering what she was trying to tell him took at least five minutes per text , between the fact it was obviously drunk , and he could barely read when things were spelled correctly , it felt like the world was trying to test him. he'd been casually sipping on some rumple in bed , listening to an audio book with his eyes closed , when the first text had come through. and before a request for aid had even been sent he was already getting dressed , not about to leave the newest person in his life , and the only one that could get him to laugh other than --- well a work partner , unattended. he remembered being in the same boat , having no one to call , wandering through the streets of san diego like some drunken menace ready to take on the world when really he was hiding from it.

while he still drank his demons away at times , the years had taught him how to deal with it better. how to hide and miniplate the coping skill to better fit his... non-early-twenties body and lifestyle. the amount of time he had stood by his door waiting on any sort of descriptor with the keys to the chevy silvarado in his hand was too many seconds. blue eyes glued to the screen , waiting for the bubbles to type and send anything that would give him a slight indication of where he could find the girl lost in this huge ass city. oh to be in his twenties again , there was something about turning thirty that changed the outlook at the world. but at the end of the day , he still felt like he didn't know how to navigate it every single day. just like when he was twenty five. just --- with more life experience now , to remind him of how much the world sucked.

when she said she was across town the wasn't a cop in the world that could have stopped him from racing at over ninety an hour to get to that bar. he probably shouldn't have taken off driving slightly buzzed at ninety eight miles an hour in a silverado while texting all at the same time. but he gets to the crowning rooster just in time only to remember that he's wearing wranglers a flannel and boots and last time he was in there everyone had been dressed like an influencer in their tight ass dresses and slacks with sneakers. he's going to stick out like a sore thumb.

so he asks her to come out , only to be met with the fact that shes already outside. slightly annoyed , and certainly worried , he walks around the building body finally relaxing when he lays eyes on the raven haired girl. he didn't realize he'd been holding his breath. and as he walks around the corner he sees her. waving a little only to be met with a smile and a wave in return , annoyance returns for a moment she really was just like his baby cousin. annoying as fuck when they wanted to be. but even as he tried to hold onto the feeling he couldn't , her smile was always contagious as if her being a good and genuine person just rubbed off on everyone in her presence. he doesn't believe in god , or angels , or whatever it was that had created the universe. but if he did , he'd like to think they were like her. he hesitates a little , trying to figure out why she isn't moving. they're just standing there ( well , she's sitting ) , at opposite ends of the sidewalk , looking like idiots.

the man walks over , hands in his pockets , she looks like a mess. but he's not sure he expected anything else. no physical injuries at least which is a good sign , and he doesn't see a splash of throw up on the ground , atta girl. is it wrong to be proud of an alcoholic ? he isn't sure. he kneels down so they're the same height ( though he still manages to be taller than her regardless ). ❝ 'ight look doll see , i told you i'd find ya. ❞ a hand reaches over , ruffling her hair a little. he's grown so fond of her in such a small amount of time. this is what it meant to have people to lose , he hadn't really understood it before. he motions towards where he parked the truck all the way across the street. ❝ 'ight how do y'wanna do this , i'm guessin' those sea legs don't wanna walk. ❞

@bnchee gets cont. from wire.

[taliya-writes]

Trilateralism snippet - DCMK

Between the two Great Detectives of the East and West, Conan and Heiji were able to determine not only the rendezvous location for a drug drop in Osaka, but the person the dealer was meeting with.

It was long after dinner when Shinichi decided to give his fellow detective a call to hear about the aftermath of the drop.  He retreated to the now vacant Mouri Detective Agency office to chat with the Osakan.

“So how did everything pan out, Hattori?” Shinichi needled.  He figured that at close to ten-thirty, Hattori had probably had enough time to stutter through explanations and arguments with Kazuha.

“Oh, shut up, Kudou,” Heiji groused from the other end of the line.  “Do you know how hard I had to work to convince Kazuha that she was just hearing whatever she wanted to hear?!”

Shinichi chuckled darkly.  “Ah, but I have proof!” and played the clip he had recorded: “What do you think you’re doing to my Kazuha?!”

“Kudou,” Heiji choked, “I am going to fucking murder you.”

He yawned loudly into the mouthpiece.  “I somehow get the feeling Ran would not be happy that you’re picking on ‘Conan-kun’,” he teased deviously.  “Nor would Kazuha, for that matter.”

Shinichi could almost feel the steam coming off Heiji through his phone.  “I swear to god, Kudou, I am going to make sure there’s not enough body to bury!”

Heiji ranted for a good ten minutes on the various ways he planned on dismembering his friend before Shinichi decided that the Osakan had probably vented enough of his frustration to speak rationally.  “Vented enough, Hattori?” the Tokyoite queried with a raised brow, though the other detective could not see it.

“Yeah,” Heiji sighed.  “You’re still a dick though.”  Shinichi was quiet as he allowed Heiji to collect his thoughts.  “So Kudou… why’d you really call?”

Shinichi laughed.  “I can't get anything past you, can I?”

“Not at all,” Heiji agreed sagely, “Now spill.”

“You know how KID had a heist last night?” Shinichi asked. At Heiji’s confirmation he continued, “Well, Hakuba Saguru was there as well last night and I noticed something odd about his behavior.”  He said this all rather quickly, as he did not want to get the Osakan started on a rant about the half-Briton.

The remark was enough to pique his fellow detective’s curiosity.  “Oh? How so, aside from the continual stick up his ass?”

“Hattori…” the miniaturized detective groaned.  

“Ruin my fun.  Fine, I’ll zip it.”

Shinichi took a breath to compose his thoughts.  “Personal biases aside, what kind of person do you believe Hakuba to be?”

There was thoughtful silence on the other end of the line.  “Hakuba’s… methodical.  Clinical.  About as objective as one can be given any situation that involves the police.  He’s smart enough to put some rather obscure pieces together.  His record does back up his insufferable arrogance, though.  And he can be a decent guy, provided he doesn’t have his head stuffed that far up his ass.  But whisper a word of this to anyone, Kudou, and I’ll—”

“—ensure no one will find a body.  Duly noted, Hattori,” Shinichi interrupted, growing mildly tired of his friend’s continuing enmity with the half-Briton.  “Now, think about what you just said, and compare that to what I’m going to tell you.”  The shrunken detective then proceeded to describe in detail the events of the heist that occurred the night before, including the other detective’s behavior around his apparent classmate during the ride back to Tokyo.  He included his own observations and inferences at the end but made sure that Heiji knew they were purely his own conjectures.  “So what do you think?”

“I think you’re onto something, Kudou,” Heiji answered frankly after taking several moments to mull over the information Shinichi had provided.  “That seems like rather suspicious behavior coming from Hakuba—especially the timing of that smile.  You really think he might know what KID’s agenda is?”

“I can't think of any other reason,” Shinichi admitted.  “I've thought about it a lot since I got home last night, though admittedly I haven't had as much time today to ponder it over.”

“Because a case with me is more important than a heist with that thief any day, right?” Heiji joked, and Shinichi chuckled at his friend’s not-entirely faked conceitedness.

“If you say so,” he sighed with a grin, and Heiji huffed.

“So what do you plan to do about Hakuba and KID?” the Osakan asked curiously.

Shinichi frowned.  “I think… I think I’m going to talk to them,” he said thoughtfully but with growing determination.  “Getting a hold of KID might not be the easiest thing I’ve done—” and here Hattori snorted with laughter, “—but I can definitely get in touch with Hakuba for a little chat.”

“I’m sensing fireworks,” Heiji said with entirely too much eagerness in his voice.  “Let me know how much metaphorical fur flies, yeah?”

“Hattori…” Shinichi sighed while his friend cackled gleefully.

[sadpeaflower]

Ever Changing

Lately in my life, I have experienced a major shift.

December 19, 2020, while working at my regular retail sales job, a man came in and almost unalived me from this world over something absolutely stupid. I cannot say what because I still work at this job, but it did enough damage that on December 31, 2020, my right arm went completely numb. Numb in a way that I can only describe as from the inside. I could still feel a pinch, but inside felt numb. It was the most insane feeling. I left work and went to a convenient care to see what was wrong. They sent me home with some muscle relaxers and said to just chill out.

I had spent most of my life with anxiety and bipolar disorder, so yes, I did believe I just needed to relax.

It was so much more than that.

On January 18, 2021, I found my doctor, the most amazing woman in the world. We tried many things before we finally decided to put me on medication. On the same day, she prescribed it to me, I got a massage as she suggested (PT did not work, so this was her last hope as she suspected something with my muscles), I had a panic attack in the last 5 minutes, but afterward, I felt my arm. For just an hour, but I felt it.

Sidenote: Throughout this experience, I also had a wonderful manager. He used to work in a psych ward and knew how to handle anxiety pretty well. I had many many panic attacks at work and he would walk me around outside and tell me stories about the "hood" to try and distract me. He was a great man and I will forever be thankful for him.

Anyways, on April 12, 2021, I took my first mood stabilizer pill. I am extremely sensitive to medications and I was on this medication (Lamictal) in high school. It worked very well and had no side effects for me so we decided to put me back on it. I took it at my best friend's house. After all, I had a panic attack before taking it because I was afraid to take it because what if I die, blah blah blah, so I just wanted someone around. Thirty minutes after I took that pill I could feel my arm and I didn't feel like the world was out to get me. This was the first time I ever felt like a medication worked.

These past few years, since that day, have been absolutely insane. I am afraid of everything. Even though I am not having panic attacks about it, I just won't try anything. If I try a new food, I think I am going to die. If I try a new activity, I think I am going to die. Etcetera. I have developed severe health anxiety and I literally cannot keep anything to myself.

...until recently.

It is August of 2024 and this summer I have learned how to swim again, started reading again, started writing again, and going to the pool, I swam in a lake (big deal), I have been standing up for myself, learning new things, taking school seriously, and finally figuring out one thing I want for my future. This all started about 3 weeks ago and I have no idea who this new woman is but I love her.

She is sticking up for us, becoming knowledgeable, having fun, getting excited, enjoying the outdoors, and prioritizing herself. I didn't do anything specifically to get here, I think I was just done being afraid. But instead of finishing what the guy in 2020 wanted to do, I just said fuck it. Why not live my fucking life? It's mine after all. Not his, not my boss's, not my mom's, not a customer's, not my boyfriend's, it's fucking mine.

Why was I ever so against having this life? Why did I want to sit in self pity and be sad and scared and lonely and useless? This is amazing. I have never felt so free and full. Things are changing and I have opened my doors to change. I have gone through enough. It is time to have fun, kick back, and relax. I deserve it.

And reader...so do you ♡

I'll keep you all updated.

[lpmurphy]

Spring in Tchakova Park

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Master List

Chapter Playlist

Summary: Green was the color of the grass where he used to walk in Tchakova Park.

In which John meets a stranger in the park, Violet learns of the care and keeping of Spartans, and Cortana offers dating advice. (Complete 5/7/24)

Chapter Summary: The Demeter Team reaches a breakthrough with the help of a certain little blue brain buddy. Violet stands up for herself. John visits her in the greenhouses. Nomad rings in Violet's 31st birthday with a bang.

Chapter Thirty: Cultivation

Cortana identified the issues with the system within 25 seconds the following evening when John came to deliver her dinner to the greenhouses. Violet had only stared at the blue woman in wonder after Cortana spouted off the errors she had overlooked, smiling proudly from beside John. She would have kissed her on the mouth if it had been physically possible. 

Violet instead flipped between her diagnostic results and digital renderings as Cortana’s recommendations echoed through her mind, gaping at her wide eyed before erupting into a series of profanity laden outbursts as she paced the aisles of empty soil in disbelief. Violet mumbled to herself as she paced, wishing she had her own state of the art artificial intelligence implanted directly into her own brain. John watched her cautiously as she paced with hands folded atop her head, still laughing and mumbling like she had completely lost it until she turned back and kissed him, muttering out that she was going to bed.

Violet took the recommendations to Derek and Corey the next morning, who had completed the repairs within 15 minutes. Violet questioned why she hadn’t consulted the AI days ago as she explained Cortana’s findings, both engineers nodding along in understanding as they looked over the recommendations on their own pads. A new vigor fell over the team as Corey and Derek turned to the catwalk ladders and set about the repairs. Excitement buzzed over the greenhouses as they worked, Saul volleying between the men as they worked to inspect ionic chambers and make adjustments. Violet and the rest of the team crouched over the empty planters with trowels and hand rakes as they cultivated and pushed seeds down into the turned earth with their fingers, laughing and chatting as they worked with a newfound ease. 

Saul laughed, shaking his head as Corey closed up the generator with a definitive tap on the top and crossed to assist Derek with the finishing repairs. He leaned over the railing to shout down to where Violet hunched over one of the root vegetable planters, “How the hell did you figure it out, Harris? You were as stumped as the rest of us when we all left last night.”

Violet smirked and poked her fingers into the soil, dropping seeds into each indent before covering them with a swipe of her hand. The series of repeated motions was soothing and familiar. She found herself missing the worktables in The Jungle as she worked. “I had a friend take a look at it after hours. Figured some fresh eyes may do us some good. It was pretty simple once she identified it. I can’t believe any of us missed it.” 

“If it was so simple, then you should have figured it out five days ago,” Dev grumbled from over his section. 

The team let out a collective sigh at the sound of his voice and Violet rolled her eyes. She had spent the week avoiding him, and he had done the same of her, especially when John was present. God, why did she ever date that man? She ignored his obvious baiting and straightened up from the finished row to move to the next. She crouched across from Meredith, who shared an annoyed look with her friend.

“Leave it alone, Johal,” Meredith snapped. Violet didn’t look up from the row she cultivated, brushing soil over the tomato seeds she had pressed down, “I would rather shove my trowel up my own ass than listen to another second of your bitching and moaning. The repairs have been made, we can get back to work. Shut the fuck up and cover your section.”

“The repairs could have been made a month ago,” he snapped, stabbing his trowel down into the soil before straightening up, “But someone left us high and fucking dry so they could play bedwarmer to their little boyfriend while I actually tried to do something about it.”

“Hey,” Corey called over the edge of the catwalks from where he, Derek, and Saul stood beside the generators, “We all did the best we could. You got the same message as the rest of us from Sorenson about why she was out. Relax.”

“No,” Dev turned to look up at him, throwing his arms out in exasperation, “Why do I have to relax? She choses the right uniform to fuck at FLEETCOM and gets to come back with a hero’s welcome and parade around like a pageant queen? Like she isn’t the reason this is happening in the first place?”

“Hey, Dev, c’mon-,” Saul began, leaning over the railings to frown down at him as well.

Saul’s attempt to mitigate fell silent as Violet’s own trowel sank into the soil. She stood and turned to face Dev, a chuckle bubbling from her as she brought her eyes to him. Dev stared back at her, a satisfied smirk lifting his lips, triumph beaming from his face. Violet did not acquiesce to the anger that burned in his eyes like she had before. She brushed soil from her hands on the front of her shirt, keeping her face the same neutral expression she had seen on John’s own as she spoke.

“The entire system could have been recalibrated remotely over a month before I arrived if you hadn’t taken it upon yourself to go about your botched repairs. Your lack of care and your own selfishness is what put us here, Devrin. Not mine. Nor did John-,” she caught herself, “ Master Chief’s injuries and subsequent recovery. My responsibility was to attend to my family. You were responsible for attending to your own station. Had you asked me for help explicitly when you were on Reach, rather than veiling it in all of your pointless vitriol, this could have been avoided.” 

“I was a little busy having my bones screwed back together after you sicced your guard dog on me,” he spat. 

She narrowed her eyes, matching the way his head tilted in challenge. She recognized his posturing, he had seen it so many times over the years as he put himself over her and waited for her to shrink. She had shrunken to him for years; to hateful words and insults carefully crafted to make her feel small. She wouldn’t shrink to him any longer. She chuffed out a soft laugh, “Would you like to share with them why John did what he did? Or should I?” 

“You’re all fucking bark, Harris,” he hissed. He stepped towards her again, but the fear she had felt in the bar and every time before did not flood into her. She heard footsteps shift behind her as Bastian and Lief rose from where they had hunched over planters, but Violet remained where she stood, still watching the desperate attempt at intimidation that unfolded before her. It was pitiful, really, she thought. “You always have been.” 

“Maybe,” she agreed, dropping her voice so that only he could hear her as the eyes of their team remained on her back, “I might be all bark , but as you’ve already found out, my ‘guard dog’ bites. Try me while he’s around. Any of them, really. I welcome it.” 

Fear flickered in his eyes at the mention of John and he dropped his eyes from her own. Violet smirked. She knew that it wasn’t just John he had to worry about; Vannak had made it clear to John that he would be watching Dev as closely as he would be before they left Reach. Vannak had pulled her aside during their last family dinner as well to tell her that she was to report back to him if Dev so much as sneezed at her in a way she didn’t like. When she hugged him in thanks that time, he didn’t try to pull away. Katie had always been her protector growing up, but she had always wondered what it was like to have a big brother. 

Violet didn’t drop his gaze in the same way he did hers. She only folded her arms, standing straight and tall. Devrin met her eyes again, but that fierceness he had met her with was replaced with unease as she continued to speak.

“It seems that the reason for my leaving Demeter has escaped you, so allow me to remind you exactly what I have been doing in my absence, Doctor Johal. As of my appointment to the Head of Botanical Research in March, I am your direct supervisor. I’d have more care in the way you speak to the woman who authorizes your paychecks. And keep in mind, I’ll be making my final recommendations to the board upon my return. So go ahead; keep it up. See how it shakes out for you,” she looked up at him, the smug look he had worn gone. She smiled, “Think I’m still just barking?”

Dev stepped back, tail tucked and shoulders slumped, “No, ma’am.” 

“Good,” she said, tilting her head back towards the planter he had been crouched over minutes before, “Finish your section, Doctor Johal. We’re waiting on you.”

Violet felt herself stand a bit straighter as he returned to his section. Meredith patted her leg, smiling up at her from where she finished her planting. Violet lifted her head to the catwalks, smiling as she called up to Saul, “Shall we fire her up, then?”

Saul chuckled and gave her an approving nod, “You’re the boss, Doc. Everyone come on up.”

Violet took a steadying breath as she watched the team descend upon the ladders, chatting as they climbed up to the platforms the generators sat upon. Violet’s fingers gnashed at her thumbs as her footsteps echoed across the metal and she took her place beside Meredith. Derek and Corey looked over the generators, checking over their work before running a final diagnostic. The whole team seemed to hold their breath as they watched the engineers look over their pads intently. Derek looked up with a grin, “Diagnostics are clear. I think we’re ready.”

“You know you’re not supposed to give us a gift on your birthday, right Doc?” Saul laughed, clapping her on the shoulder. 

Violet laughed tightly, her grip on the railing tightening as she looked down at the planters below, “Good thing my birthday isn’t until tomorrow, Saul.”

“Alright, folks. Moment of truth,” Corey called. He stepped in front of the control panels, shoulders tight. Tension settled in between the nine scientists as they stared below, “ Initiating the system.”

Meredith grasped her hand, her fingers wrapping around Violet’s in a bone crushing squeeze. Violet looked to the generators as they started to hum, her heart in her throat as her own grip tightened around Meredith’s. She held her breath and pinched her eyes shut, unable to bring herself to watch if it failed and she was forced to start over again. It had taken her three years to bring the system to fruition. She feared it would take even longer if she had to start from scratch again. She couldn’t stomach the thought of having to stay; of having to leave Reach and return permanently to the installation, of having to leave John behind. She couldn’t stay. She wouldn’t. She’d sooner submit her resignation than leave and spend every single moment of her life wondering what it felt like to still be his.

Meredith gasped softly beside her and Violet took a steadying breath before opening her eyes. Her thoughts of resignation paperwork and job interviews were washed away in a glow of gentle blue light as it flooded over the rows below. Corey and Derek exchanged updates in short, clipped sentences as they monitored their screens. Violet gripped Meredith’s arm. 

“We’re a go,” Derek said, “Thirty seconds to growth.”

Thirty seconds had never passed so excruciatingly slow as Violet stared down, the team leaning over the railing beside her as they all watched silently. Bastian muttered out prayers in Portuguese beside her, Jin whispering in Mandarin farther down the catwalk. Violet only stared, willing the growth to come as she held her breath again, nerves rolling in her stomach. John had equated her to Demeter in jest, yet she stood over on the catwalks staring down at the earth and felt herself begging her child to return home and bring spring with her. She gripped the railing tightly and reminded herself to breathe.

Pinpricks of green emerged from the soil, plant life sprouting up and coiling out of the earth. All of the panic and tension rushed out of her body in a puff of air as she sighed, dropping her head onto her folded arms on the railing. The team erupted into cheers behind her, all shouting out happily and exchanging high fives. Meredith grabbed her shoulders and gave them a shake before pressing a kiss to her cheek and turning to hug Jin. 

“Fuck yeah!” Meredith shouted, clapping Bastian on the shoulder, “Botany, bitches!”

Violet didn’t lift her head from the railing. Her eyes stayed on the seedlings that rose and twisted under the blue glow, slowly and steadily increasing in size as they spread across the planters. Saul stepped behind her, giving her a gentle pat on the back as he passed, “It’s going to be about twelve hours until we’re harvestable, Doc. Go get some rest.”

---

Ease settled into her as she stared out over the rows of green. The chrono on the wall flashed back the late hour; 0124. Exactly twelve hours since the system had been initiated and hummed above head. Violet stood between two planters in her pajamas, stalks of corn towering overhead on one side, greens dotted with bright red tomatoes on the other. The sticky heat of the structures had been replaced by the whir of overhead fans and air conditioned temperatures, carefully selected by the horticulturists to promote the healthy growth that burst to life around her. She shivered slightly in her tee and sweats, thankful for the chill that tickled her skin, breathing in the earthy scent that hadn’t filled the space a short time ago. 

Violet crossed the greenhouse slowly, allowing her fingers to drag over every plant she passed. She hadn’t bothered to put on her shoes, her feet stained with red dust from the short walk between the installation to the greenhouses. She left dusty footprints in her wake as she walked, twisting and trailing between each neat row. She stopped when she reached the deep planters filled with the greens of root vegetables, a wet giggle escaping her lips as she brushed tears from her cheeks. The beep of the entry scanner sounded from the other side of the greenhouse. Violet didn’t pull her eyes from the crops to see who had entered behind her, his recognizable footsteps thudding against the floors. 

“You should be in bed,” John called.

“The villagers will be here in eight hours for the first harvest,” she called, her voice soft and thick with emotion. John’s heavy steps neared her, “Then back again in the evening. It’ll be the first time they’ve eaten something that hasn’t come out of a package in 59 days.”

John stepped beside her, her eyes still fixed on the green. His eyes followed her own, both silent for a moment as they looked out over the greenhouse. 

“Mullins told me you might be in here,”  he said softly.

“Oh yeah?” 

“He said you’d be in it or on it,”  she mouthed the words with a slight nod as he spoke them, having heard them leave Greg’s mouth so many times before.  “I saw you two on the roof the other night. You let him down easy?”

“I did.” 

“Good. I wasn’t interested in having to explain a court-martial to Keyes if he didn’t,” Violet laughed as she leaned down to pluck a browning leaf from one of the planters, running her fingers though the smooth soil. John’s eyes followed her, “What happened between you two? When you left for Reach?”

“Nothing ugly,” she dusted the soil off of her hands over the planter before straightening back up to stand beside him, her eyes still fixed on the neat rows of green. John’s hand pressed against her back, thumb brushing against her spine, “He was sweet to me; put me back together after Dev and I broke up. I was in really bad shape after that ended. I lost myself, and Greg helped me find my way back. I got my position back home and he was staying here, so it always had an expiration date. I wondered when I got back if I had made the right choice; leaving all of this. I felt like I didn’t belong at work, I left all my friends behind, home didn’t feel quite like home anymore.”

“What made you stay?”

She smiled as she met his soft look and hugged herself against the air conditioned temperatures of the greenhouse, “I called my mom in tears one evening after work. I told her I wanted to come back. I was going to request to be transferred back the next morning. I had all of the paperwork filled out, just needed to press send and that would be that. She told me to take the evening to think about it; ‘Go for a walk. Clear your head. Get yourself straight before you do anything too big’. So I did. I hooked Sadie up and we went down to the park for our walk. I stopped to throw the ball for Sadie and was thinking about my job and everything I left behind; wondering about how different it all could have been if I stayed.”

She glanced up at John, finding his eyes still on her as she spoke. He had looked down at her in that same way for months; that same gentleness to him that seemed to be reserved only for her. It still made her stomach flutter, bringing with it an easiness that felt more like home than this place ever had. More than New Alexandria ever had, or her apartment, or any place she had called her own before. Being with him felt like stepping in front of a roaring fire; safe and comforting and all-encompassing. She loved him. She loved him through all of the warmth and through the chill, in each moment she spent by his side, and part of her assumed she had loved him before he had ever stepped foot into her life. She knew that love would linger long after the warmth and chill, and she hoped she would never experience a moment without it. Without him. Without them. Wrong , he had called them that night. She had never felt a wrong so beautiful. She’d be wrong for the rest of her life as long as that wrong was him.

She offered him a soft smile, “I must have been too lost in my thoughts because I threw the ball a bit too far and it almost hit this big, beautiful stranger by the pond. It didn’t though, he caught it before it could; must have head eyes in the back of his head watching out for him. I went over to apologize and as soon as I looked up at him, I knew I had made the right choice.”

John smiled softly and lifted a hand to brush her hair out of her face. He brushed his fingertips along her cheek before tucking the errant strand behind her ear, tracing the curve of her jaw before taking her face in his hand, brushing his thumb against her cheek in gentle strokes. Violet pressed against the touch and curled her fingers around his wrist. “Yeah? How’d you know?”

“I told him a weird fact about geese,” she laughed, relishing in the low rumble of his chuckle, “And he didn’t look at me like I was a crazy person. He just laughed. I deleted my transfer request that night. I haven’t wondered again since I met you. I can’t picture what things would have been like if I had made a different choice. One spring evening in Tchakova Park was all it took for me to see what my forever looked like.”

She turned to look up at him, “You will always be the best choice I have ever made, John.”

He said nothing. He never had to. He only looked down at her in all of that silent intensity and took her hand, his fingers curling into her own. She reached up and pressed her hand to his cheek, John leaning into her touch. 

“Ready to go home?” she asked, “I think our dog probably misses us.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to her head before wrapping his arms around her. Violet let her head rest against his chest plate as she leaned into his embrace. 

“Yeah, goose,” he murmured, “I am.”

___

Violet returned to the installation to find the rec room and kitchen empty at the late hour. Jin poked out of the door of Saul’s room, giving Violet a small wave as she slipped back into her own room quietly. Violet offered her a small smile in return. She stood in the rec room for a few moments in the silence, looking over the sofas she had spent so many nights upon with her friends. All of the laughter, all of the tears, all of the comradery and brilliance exchanged with the people who had pushed her and driven her. The team who had made her a better scientist. The people who made her a better person and friend. She glanced out at the greenhouse roofs a final time, a soft smile stretching her lips before she slipped into her room to pack up her things. 

She’d miss this dusty little shithole. But, fuck, she was ready to go home with her John. 

Violet fell asleep in her old room early on the morning of her 31st birthday to thoughts of John’s warmth beside her in bed and the evening run she looked forward to taking Sadie on. She slept the best she had in the days they had been at FOB Nomad, guilt fading from her as she dreamed of clean linens and preparing meals in her own kitchen. The room still felt too lonely, too quiet without the sounds of him sleeping next to her, but she slept comfortably knowing that the noises would return within a few short weeks in the sleepy comfort of their bedroom. 

She slept through the first explosion, the flashes of light illuminating the walls of her room. The second startled her awake, and the shouts that followed afterwards made her get out of bed.

[everything-i-couldnt-tell-u]

the problem is that i have a version of you stored inside my head that constantly drives me paranoid. it's not the real and current you but it's based on the words and actions you've told me before. recently, it's been becoming more vivid in my hallucinations in the headspace which is why it's hard for me to know which are the real things you said and not.

it's the same creature in my head who took the form of people i loved before that has done stuff that hurt me in the past. i don't know why it constantly wants to scare me away, probably because it doesn't want me to trust anyone. before you, it formerly took the form of my mom and my friends and never stopped making me feel like shit.

that version/hallucination of you in my head constantly criticizes me, curses me, and threatens me that she will leave me. i swear i've been trying my best not to believe her, but once she decides to fuck me up, my pov will always be distorted - i'll become sensitive to every little thing, take in every word you say as criticisms/threats/signs that you don't want me. not being in touch with you for a while? it suddenly looks like a sign that i've been abandoned. you commenting on something i do even if it's not negative? suddenly looks like a threat that you've seen something i said/did and it might be used against me/you're secretly judging and laughing at me for it

yesterday, i couldn't control myself and gave into the the urge she created inside me. i spent a whole ass thirty minutes stalking your interactions with other people, backreading your happy convos with arveil, backreading and reliving all the times when you said you don't want me anymore. then after seeing all those, my hallucination will ask me — "so after all the evidence we've collected, do you still not see that i obviously hate you?" "diba arveil was always something while you're just some annoying bitch she has to put up with"

and you know after that, i had another fuckass nightmare where i was happily telling you something but you straight up ignored me and showed my face that you're only interested in talking to people who will listen to you talk about yourself without complaining. the hallucination implied that she, the hallucination of you, lost interest in me the moment i craved to have you listen back to me.

it's hard to act normal whenever this happens and it's unfair cause none of those are real. but even though they're not real, i can all feel it so much. i feel sick and dying whenever my hallucination of you abandons me in my head/nightmares. i sometimes end up avoiding you cause in my head, my hallucination of you told me to fuck off and just move on already.

but before you, that hallucination took the form of my mom. she would also criticize the fuck out of me all the time and ruined the way i see mom. she made mom look like some kind of monster to me to the point that i always pushed mom away and snapped at her too. i couldn't differentiate her true intentions from the harmful intentions that my hallucination says it has.

but after identifying this, i don't feel as paranoid as usual. yeah i am still paranoid and i do feel sick, but i'm starting to get a little numb to how it hurts. i just hope i figure out how to make that hallucination stop fucking me up less if it's really impossible for it to ever leave me alone

[messers-moony]

One in the Same | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Wife!Reader

Summary: Reader notices Draco going through the same pain as her ex lover and desperately wants fix her faults.

“Mr.Malfoy, can you stay after class, please?” 

“‘Course, Professor Black.”

An average day in second year. Professor Black - Y/n - taught History of Magic after Professor Binns decided his time was up. Too long of teaching sleeping students who could care less about his lessons. However, once Y/n took over the position, kid's grades improved and people were no longer sleeping. She made things fun and inventive.

After class time was up, everyone filed out of the classroom aside from the blond Slytherin boy. Draco has always been on the good side of Professor Black. She was always extremely kind to him despite his rather sour attitude at times. But Draco was always hesitant to initiate a conversation to really speak his feelings to her. But this was the first time she had him stay after class. 

Y/n pulled out the chair in front of her desk as he sat down. His white-blond hair and gleaming blue eyes. His young face, not yet defined. Y/n with her h/c hair and curious glinted e/c eyes. 

“Draco, I want to start this by saying I don’t know what your home life is like.” Y/n began, “I went to Hogwarts with your parents, though, and he wasn’t always kind. Your mother was cordial with me, though.”

“If you don’t find me intruding, what’s your home life like?” 

“I- Um- It’s good.” Stammered Draco, “Father and Mother are always kind.”

Y/n’s eyes glinted with curiosity, “Lucius tolerated me.”

“Tolerated you?”

“I married one of his best friends.” Y/n chuckled, “He didn’t have a choice.”

Draco tilted his head, “Sirius?”

“Oh heavens no!” Y/n exclaimed, “Regulus. Sirius Black's brother.” 

“My- My dead cousin?” He queried. 

She nodded, “Yes. I married Regulus right after graduation. His parents weren’t thrilled, but he loved me so, here we are.”

“May I ask a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What were his parents like?”

“Horrible. The worst.” Y/n spat, “Sirius got the worst of it, but Regulus did occasionally too.”

“Walburga and Orion were awful. Using the crucio curse is not a great punishment for kids.” Draco’s eyes widened, “Both of them had scars from the curse. Sirius ran away at sixteen, and Regulus was used as their puppet. So used that at the age of eighteen, he felt like he had to prove himself. Which inevitably got him killed.”

“How did you deal with it?”

“Well, would you like my honest answer or my Professor answer?”

“Honest, please.”

“Between you and I, I still haven’t gotten over it.” Y/n shrugged, “I see something that reminds me of him, and I’m back at the start all over again. It takes time, and it’s taken plenty of time, but here I am, doing what I love. Teaching kids.”

“Anyways.” Y/n smiled, “You’re dismissed. I’m sorry I took up your time. However, if you ever feel the need to speak with me, let me know. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Draco picked up his bag, rustling as he stood up. The blond boy was still digesting all the information he gained. He couldn’t believe that his cousins got the crucio curse for a punishment. He thought his parents were bad. Theirs was way worse. Draco was about to walk out of the classroom but turned last minute to look at his Professor. 

“Professor?” 

“Yes, Draco?”

“There’s-“ He swallowed, “There’s a Quidditch match this Saturday. Slytherin versus Ravenclaw. If you have the time, I’d like you to come.”

“Of course. I’ll be there.” Y/n smiled. 

He walked out of the room without a second stop. He felt better about himself now. He had someone who genuinely seemed to care about him. Draco didn’t trust her just yet, but he wouldn’t be opposed to speaking with her as he had just now in the future. Professor Black had always been open and honest with her students. Perhaps that’s why kids liked her so much. 

Saturday arrived quicker than Y/n would’ve hoped for one reason. She, herself, didn’t own any Slytherin-colored merchandise anymore. But there was a box in her quarters that she brought with her to Hogwarts every year. Regulus’s old clothes meaning all his scarfs, ties, button-ups, pants, hats, etc. Y/n couldn’t seem to get rid of them. Frankly, she didn’t want to get rid of them either. 

Carefully she pulled the cardboard box from the top of her closet. Taking a pair of scissors and breaking the tape seal she had put on it multiple years ago. Inside laid many pieces of the evergreen and silver cloth. Y/n’s hands gravitated to the green and silver scarf. Bringing it to her nose, she was shocked. It still smelt like him. Godric, this was going to be more challenging than she initially thought. 

Nonetheless, she put it around her neck along with her button-up and tight-fit pants. Y/n put on the green gloves, much too big for her but had fit Regulus perfectly, the tie, and the scarf. It brought her a sense of nostalgia. It made Y/n feel like she was a fifth-year going out with Regulus on a date to Hogsmeade. But she wasn’t fifteen or in fifth year. Y/n was a Professor and a full-grown adult. And Regulus was dead. 

The game was going well for Slytherin at the beginning. But like most Quidditch games, things can change rather quickly. Ravenclaw was studious. That was for sure. They played skillfully. Y/n sat in the Professor stands with the rest of her colleagues. She sat between McGonagall and Flitwick. But white-blond hair caught her attention in front of her. Lucius Malfoy was here spectating his son. 

McGonagall nudged her, “Where’d you get the Slytherin gear?”

“Regulus.”

“How have you been, dear?” McGonagall questioned softly, “It’s been a whirlwind, but nothing I can do will bring him back, so ‘m still here for him. It’s what he would’ve wanted.” Y/n replied. 

Minerva placed a hand on the girl's knee, “If you need anything, let me know.”

“‘Course, Professor.”

The game ended tragically. Slytherin had just tied the game when Cho Chang had caught sight of the snitch. Sadly, she was able to grasp it before Draco. Leaving Slytherin with two-hundred and thirty points while Ravenclaw ended with three-hundred and eighty points. Lucius seemed furious with this conclusion and stormed off the stands. Y/n knew something was up, so she followed him. 

She came up in a deserted hallway in Hogwarts. Draco stood - now changed into the usual Hogwarts robes - and his father stood before him. From the view she had, Draco’s back was to her, and his father was towering over the boy. 

Lucius had a cold and icy voice, “You are insufferable!”

“You had one job, Draco! One! Catch the damn snitch.” He scolded, “Perhaps you were too daft to figure that out?”

“‘M sorry, father. I didn’t mean to. Honest.” Draco was pleading and begging for mercy; it made Y/n’s heartache at the familiar words. 

“Mum, Dad, I seriously didn’t mean to!” Regulus had cried after breaking a vase, “Excuses, excuses, they won’t get you anywhere in life, boy!” Orion shouted. 

Tears collected in his silver eyes, “‘M sorry! ‘M so sorry!”

Walburga pointed her wand at him, “Crucio.”

Lucius scoffed, “Malfoy’s don’t cry, wipe those tears.”

“Should‘ve sent you to Durmstrang. You come to Hogwarts and forget everything I’ve ever taught you.”

“Father, I really didn’t mean to! She just got there faster than me.” Draco begged. 

Y/n saw it before Draco did. Lucius raised his palm slowly, and Draco flinched. Y/n saw the pale hand rise into the air, and without a second thought, she ran in front of the young boy, taking the blow that was meant for Lucius’ son. Draco heard the sound but never felt the impact. Carefully he opened his eyes to see Professor Black standing in front of him, a hand on her cheek. 

“How dare you get in the way!” Lucius yelled, “How dare I? How dare you for trying to leave a hand on your son!” Y/n retorted her bright cheek red from impact. 

Draco was appalled, “Draco is your son! Not a toy or a puppet, and I will not stand for this!”

“You don’t have to, half breed.” Lucius seethed, “As you said, he’s my son. Not yours.”

“I could give less fucks!” Y/n exclaimed, “Draco is my student. I will not be having you lay your hands on my students.”

Lucius scoffed, “Where’s your child, mm?”

“Right, you don’t have one.” Lucius answered, “Because your blood-traitor of a husband decided to get himself killed!”

“Regulus was not a blood-traitor for trying to right his wrongs!”

“Regulus and Sirius were no different from each other.”

“Leave them out of this!”

“Oh, so it’s still a soft spot for you?”

“So help me, I’ll-“

“Petrificus Totalus.” Draco stated while holding his wand, causing his father to fall to the ground, paralyzed. 

Y/n stared at the body in shock, “Draco.”

She didn’t even have time to reprimand him before he burst into tears. Y/n turned quickly and embraced him into a much-needed hug while the boy sobbed on her shoulder. Y/n’s hands went through Draco’s white-blond hair gently while he let every emotion out. She pulled away and wiped the tears on his cheeks. 

“You’re going to be okay, I promise.” Y/n informed, and Draco nodded, “Th- Thank you, Professor.”

Y/n smiled and sent him off to the Slytherin common room, leaving her to deal with Lucius. The Professor dragged him to Madam Pomfrey to deal with. Later that night, in her quarters, while brushing her teeth, she noticed the considerable bruise covering her left cheek: Blue and purple hues mixed to create a dark blue-violet looking color, almost grey. 

Sixth year was now here. Y/n’s fourth year of teaching at Hogwarts, and she couldn’t have asked for a better job. On September 1st, she went through the floo-network to arrive in her teacher's quarters. Looking at the time, it seemed that students were just about reaching onto the grounds when a knock sounded at her door. 

“Come in!”

A blond boy, much taller, defined face, and grey eyes had just walked into her teacher's quarters, “Good evening, Professor.”

“Good evening, Draco.” Y/n greeted smiling brightly, “What's on your mind, sweetheart?”

Draco didn’t know where to begin as water collected on his lower lash line, and gently he pulled up his left sleeve. Godric, it felt like deva Vu all over again. 

“Y- Y/n.” Regulus called through his tears, “What’s wrong, baby?” Y/n asked, sitting beside him on the four-poster bed. 

Regulus couldn’t help the tears that helplessly fell down his cheeks. His eyes were silver and blurred. Cheeks flushed and hair knotted. This past summer had been a shit show for him with Sirius running away and just everything that had gone on. Regulus had never felt this hopeless before. 

“I- I need your help.”

“Of course, anything, baby.”

He swallowed, “Just know that I’ll love you forever. Okay?”

“‘Course.”

Gently, he released a breath of air and pulled up his left sleeve. The combined snake and skull only meaning one thing. Regulus was now a death eater to the Dark Lord. Tears sprung in Y/n’s eyes but not because of disappointment but because of worry. She didn’t know what she would do if Regulus were to be gone. 

“They forced me!” Regulus pleaded, “Please, please don’t leave me.” 

Regulus was weeping, and Y/n took him into her arms, “Shh, shh, I’m not disappointed. I’m just worried about you.”

“I don’t wanna- I don’t wanna do this.” Regulus whimpered, “Please help me.”

“I’m gonna help you ‘m love. Don’t worry.” 

“What happened this summer?” Y/n asked as Draco pulled back down his sleeve.

“Auntie Bella.”

Draco was trying so hard to swallow his tears as his Professor was now face to face with him, “Draco.”

How was her voice so sweet and calm, almost like she had done this before, “It’s okay to show emotion. It’s being human. Let it go, darling.”

Just like that, the dam broke, and Draco was a sobbing mess again. How was it that Professor Black had always managed to feel more like home than his actual parents? What had his mum done for him while Bellatrix was giving him the mark? She had just stood there watching pain contort on his face. Y/n felt more like a mother to him, more like family to him. 

“Shh. Shh. You’re safe here, Draco.”

“They- They want me-“ He was choking on his words, and Y/n placed her hands on his shoulders, “Take deep breaths and then explain. Okay?”

He began to inhale and exhale air at a slow pace, “They want me to-“ Draco swallowed, “They want me to kill Dumbledore.”

“Okay.” Y/n stated, letting out a breath of air, “You and I will get through this.” 

“You- You promise?” 

“I promise.”

Perhaps it was instinct now for Draco to stay after in her classroom. After every lesson, Draco would visit her in her classroom just to be in her company or to talk. What was it about Y/n that drew these people close to her? Ones with broken souls who believed that couldn’t be helped. Was it her kindness? Perhaps it was her caring nature—too many variables to pinpoint. 

The moment Y/n heard crying in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, she knew something was wrong. Approaching cautiously, she saw Harry Potter doing the same behind Draco, who stood facing the basin, dried tears on his cheeks. Everything happened too fast for Y/n to understand. But when Harry spoke an incantation that left Draco bleeding out on the floor, everything changed. 

She was jumping into action hastily, falling to her knees beside the blond-haired boy while Harry was almost in tears at his mistake. Y/n took her wand out and began muttering spells to heal the boy's chest. Harry was now in a heap on the floor, tears filling his glorious emerald eyes while the Professor took care of his harm. It took ten minutes before the bleeding stopped, and Y/n turned to face Harry. 

“Harry.” 

“‘M sorry. I- I didn’t know…”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad I was here.” Y/n replied, and Harry looked like a mess, “I need you to go to the Gryffindor tower and not speak of this to anyone, okay?”

He nodded and stood up sluggishly. Harry left the bathroom, leaving Y/n with an unconscious Draco. Sighing heavily, she picked up the boy and lugged him to the hospital wing, where he was taken care of. The following day an owl was pecking at Y/n’s window, leading her to wake up and take the note from the owl’s foot. 

“Draco won’t stop calling for you.”

Y/n freshened up, brushing her teeth, hair, and a change of clothes before making her way to the Hospital Wing. It was quite a ways away from. Her section of the school, but if Draco needed her, she needed to be there even if it was six o’clock in the morning. Her shoes made a light tap along with the wood as she walked and hesitantly opened the big door to the infirmary. 

“Oh, thank Merlin!” Madam Pomfrey said with her hand over her heart, “Draco has been asking for you, my dear.”

She gave a tiny smile as Pomfrey pointed to where Draco was lying. Carefully she stripped back some of the white curtain and pulled a chair beside his bed. Y/n took his hand in his. It was cold and pale. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine holding Regulus’ hand in the same exact way after a horrible Bludger accident. 

An hour later, Draco finally woke up, “Mornin’ sweetheart.”

“Professor, you- you came.”

She smiled, “You called for me, of course, I’d come.”

Draco pushed himself up into a sitting position, his grey eyes locked on her warm e/c ones, “Sorry, I just, didn’t expect you to come.”

“How are you feeling?” 

“I feel okay. Little sore but nothing I haven’t been through.” 

Y/n smiled sadly, “I knew a boy just like you, you know?”

“You did?” Draco asked, and she nodded, “I did.”

“Could you tell me about him?”

“Well, he was strong, smart, and closed off. His home life wasn’t too great either and was forced into being what his parents were too.” Draco looked eager for more, “Eventually, he realized that this wasn’t the life he wanted. He no longer cared about his parent's approval. He just wanted to be him, but by then, it was too late.”

“Too late?”

She nodded, “He was already in too late, so he did the only thing he thought of. Betraying his parents, his family. He was so caught up in what he was doing he didn’t realize what he was doing, and now, because of that, he’s no longer with us.”

“But you aren’t too late, Draco.” Y/n stressed, tightening her grip on his hand, “Let me save you. Let me help you.”

Tears ebbed at the corners of his eyes, “Please.”

Y/n took him in her arms and rubbed his back soothingly, “You aren’t alone. I’m here for you.”

It took months, but everything was over. It felt like time had stopped. Y/n could remember the terror standing outside of Hogwarts as the death eaters stood on the other side. Narcissa was calling for him - the boy who had no choice - and Draco was panicking as Lucius began calling his name. 

Draco swallowed and shook his head. 

It was the feeling of relief that brought Y/n solace. Draco took the step that Regulus took, and she would make sure he didn’t pay for it. The relief felt like a breath of fresh air now that the war was over. Y/n had stepped into the Great Hall panicking, hoping, praying that he was okay. At that moment she saw it. 

He was crouched in the corner. People were glaring at him all around. Draco saw. He saw the Weasleys crying over Fred. He saw Harry look empty, staring at Remus Lupin and Nymphadora. The way Lavender Brown’s parents sobbed over her dead body. He saw the way Dennis Creevey was yelling and screaming in pain at seeing his deceased older brother. Draco could remember how close they were. 

Nonetheless, he stood up and ran into her arms: his solace, home, and safe place. Draco couldn’t remember what it felt like to be held this tight. He dug his nose into her neck and just remembered to breathe. She pulled away to see a small smile playing on his lips. Y/n cupped his cheeks gently. 

“I’m so, so proud of you.” Y/n smiled, “I can't explain how proud I am of you. You did it.”

Draco smiled and leaned into her hands, “Thanks, mum.”

[knuffled]

not so bad pt. 1

i’m having lots of writer’s block, so i wrote a small fic to get back into the swing of things! this doesn’t mean i’m back to consistently writing fic though. also this is not proof read at all, but i like to live dangerously. anyhow, hope you enjoy and if you do please reblog!

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37160617/chapters/92707843

Annabeth had never been to the school nurse’s office, which was currently proving to be a dire mistake. She’d hobbled around school for nearly fifteen minutes before she found it, tucked away on the second floor in the social studies department for some god-forsaken reason. She stumbled inside the tiny office and desperately grabbed a chair just in time for her leg to give out. Gritting her teeth, Annabeth pulled herself onto the seat and screwed her eyes shut. For a few moments, she tried to calm her breathing and rapid heartbeat so that it hurt less to breathe.

Once she opened her eyes, Annabeth brushed aside the sweat-soaked strands of hair plastered to her forehead and looked around. The nurse wasn’t there, but that was par for the course: school had ended two hours ago, after all. Annabeth took a deep breath, kicked off her right foot’s cleats, and stripped her sock and shin guard to get a proper look of the injury for the first time. It definitely looked worse than it felt: there were clear impressions of cleat marks indenting her skin, some of which dripped crimson, mixing with dirt caked to her shins. Gingerly, Annabeth probed a spot leaking blood and winced when her calf throbbed in response.

God, this was exactly what she needed. She’d already had to deal with two hours of absolutely grueling practice, and now she had to fix this horrific looking wound by herself, just like always. She didn’t even know how to administer first aid. Annabeth would’ve curled into a little ball and screamed if her leg wasn’t screaming bloody murder.

That was when the door burst open, cutting her pity party short, and in walked Percy Jackson. He stopped the instant he saw her, and Annabeth stiffened at the sight of him, despite herself, and looked for something to defend herself with.

This day really was just going from bad to worse. Of all the people at school, he was the absolute last one she wanted to see here. Everyone at East Summers High knew to stay the fuck away from Percy Jackson. Rumors said he routinely beat people to a pulp with his bare hands. Others said he sold every kind of drug imaginable. Others said he spent his days shoplifting or mugging people. He barely showed up at school half the time, undoubtedly engaged in something criminal.

Annabeth wasn’t the type to believe everything she heard, but she couldn’t deny that Percy did his damnedest to look the part. The ripped jeans, bruised knuckles, and disheveled hair certainly did him no favors, but it was the severe case of resting bitch face that really sealed the deal. His eyes would have been pretty if they weren’t always glaring at you like he thought your existence was a personal affront to him. Couple that with the fact that he never smiled and made himself as unapproachable as possible, it wasn’t hard to believe the rumors were true.

Injured like she was, Annabeth could do little to defend herself if he really was as bad as they said. Her heartbeat had already begun spiking even though he was just glaring at her.

“Christ, what happened to you?”

The sound of his voice took her by surprise - she’d never heard him speak before. “What?”

Percy nodded to her leg. “That.”

Annabeth looked down at her leg before feeling more than a little stupid. “Oh, um, a teammate accidentally stepped on my leg at practice.”

A beat passed before Percy said, “If you’re looking for the nurse, she isn’t here. She’s usually gone by four thirty.”

“Oh, thanks,” Annabeth said awkwardly, even though she’d already figured as much.

Percy must have assumed that was the end of the conversation because he strode past her and rummaged in one of the cabinets for some bandages. He grabbed some cotton balls and rubbing alcohol before he sat on the counter at the other end of the room. With practiced ease, Percy dabbed some alcohol onto the cotton swab and lifted the hem of his black t-shirt, revealing a skinned torso. He didn’t even wince as he sterilized the wound, but the flex of his muscles while he worked transfixed her.

Annabeth didn’t realize she was staring until she saw that he’d noticed her ogling him so shamelessly. Some half-baked excuses caught in her throat, but all she could muster was a croak. Her face turned red as he cracked a smile. Percy’s smile was something magical - it melted all those hard lines of tension on his face and broke his guard a little. The effect was really disarming. 

Annabeth stood with a start and cleared her throat. She had to start dressing her own wound instead of staring like an idiot. She looked through the same cabinet that Percy had, but she couldn’t tell what half the things were inside. There were no labels. She grabbed something that looked like a gauze bandage, a bottle of what she hoped was rubbing alcohol, and some paper towels. 

She started a little when Percy brushed past her to put away the bandages he’d taken. Annabeth blinked when she saw the branding on the box and looked at him.

“Was that Hello Kitty?” Annabeth asked, unable to help herself. 

“Yep,” Percy said, raising an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

Annabeth gestured vaguely to him and said, “Isn’t that kind of antithetical to your whole image?”

“For your information, Hello Kitty fits all images,” Percy said easily. “Besides, even if you told anyone I was wearing a Hello Kitty bandage, who would believe in you?”

A laugh escaped her before she could help it. Fear snuck in a moment later as she chided herself to be more careful around him, but Percy’s answering smile sent her straight to La La Land. 

In the time she was there, Percy took a quick look at the supplies she’d gathered and frowned. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Because if you’re trying to dress your injury, none of this stuff will help.” 

That snapped Annabeth back to reality real fast. “What?”

Percy held up her gauze tape. “This is compression tape. Not gauze tape. It’s used for muscle recovery and cramping. For a wound like yours, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide isn’t the best option.”

“Oh,” Annabeth said, feeling more than a little stupid. 

There was a pause before Percy sighed and said, “Sit down. I’ll handle this.”

Words of protest rose inside her, but Percy gave her a sharp look that told her this wasn’t up for debate. Annabeth slumped in her chair and watched Percy gather materials from around the room before he came back to her. He dropped to a crouch in front of her and held up a wet paper towel. 

“First, I’m gonna clean the area with some water and soap. It’ll sting a bit, but let me know if it’s too much for you, okay?” 

Once Annabeth nodded, Percy gently began wiping down her calf. She was expecting him to be a lot rougher, so her surprise kept her from hardly registering any pain while he worked. He paused to explain what he was doing every now and then, and warned her when something would hurt, but for the most part he was quiet. She really tried not to, but she couldn’t help studying him, not when he was so close. He still looked prickly, but considerable less so.

“You know, you’re not really that bad,” Annabeth found herself saying. 

Percy froze for a moment and looked up at her. “So you’ve heard the rumors too, huh?”

“Kind of hard not to,” Annabeth said, a little sheepishly.

“Always thought you were too smart to believe in stuff like that.”

Annabeth blinked. “You know about me?”

“Sure do,” Percy said, wrapping the gauze around her calf. “Annabeth Chase: star striker and captain of the soccer team, future East Summer’s High valedictorian, and evidently a Hello Kitty hater.” 

“I don’t hate Hello Kitty,” Annabeth whined. The fact that he knew so much about her was really taking her aback. 

Percy suddenly stood up, and Annabeth worried she’d offended him when she noticed that her calf was all nicely bandaged up now. 

“Bandages aren’t too tight, right?”

Annabeth shook her head. “No, they’re perfect. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Percy said, smiling softly. “I’ll see you around, Chase.” 

“Yeah, see you around,” Annabeth said, nodding. 

With that, Percy was gone. Annabeth waited a moment to sink into her chair and groan. God, she’d made such an absolute fool of herself. She found herself still extremely surprised by the entire exchange. Percy was nothing like she’d been led to believe, at least if this interaction was anything to go off of. She knew that it was a platitude more than anything, but she found herself hoping she really would see him again.