#yet another full day of bouncing off trying to write anything. ugh. I really need to find a way to get my brain into gear

[liesonthefloordramatically]

what I have learned about myself this year is that I should probably think twice about taking book review assignments because trying to get myself to write the review is like pulling teeth

[supernaturalfreewill]

Words: 5,103 Gabriel x Reader Warnings: none! A/N: This is part of a series! Read Part 1 first!

Your name: submit What is this?

The first door standing open down the long hallway was obviously your bedroom, and Gabriel wasn’t shy about stepping inside. At first, he simply stood in the center and glanced around eagerly, bouncing a little on his feet as he surveyed the space.

Cas followed him in much more tentatively, but curious as to what his purpose was.

“This is it, huh?” He strolled over to the small desk in one corner and picked up an open notebook and some loose papers, studying them closely. Apparently, nothing there really held his interest because he abandoned them quickly and started sliding open desk drawers.

“This is—I think this is what humans would call an ‘invasion of privacy,’” Cas said.

“Gabriel, I really don’t think you should—” Cas tried to argue, but the archangel simply shushed him and opened the cover. He ran his fingers over your handwriting—the impressions were deep on the page and he liked the slanting, hurried cursive. “Ghouls in Minnesota, Vampire in New York, Werewolf in Arkansas… This is nothing but hunting notes,” he said with disappointment, flipping through the pages.

“What did you expect?” Cas asked him.

“Something with a little more insight into who Y/N is, perhaps,” Gabriel said, shutting and typing the journal closed again and replacing it in the false bottom of your drawer, kicking it closed with his boot. “Hopes, dreams, roots, deepest secrets… that sort of thing,” he said.

Cas’s brow drew down low over his eyes again. “Knowing Y/N, I seriously doubt you will find any of that in writing in here…”

“Well, that’s just wishful thinking. Best case scenario. I will just have to get creative,” he said. Gabriel spun and looked at the small bedside table. There was a novel sitting on it and he grabbed it, opening it to the bookmark. “Y/N is an avid reader, hmm?” he said, more to himself than to Cas. “This is an ambitious read.” He studied the bookmark which was a folded piece of paper. When he opened it, it was a printed photo of you, Sam and Dean, and Cas. Sam had his arm draped over your shoulders and all of you were smiling for once. Gabriel stared at it for a long moment and Cas watched his expression soften into a thoughtful, faraway look. Finally, he folded it up again gently and replaced it in the novel, leaving it on your side table just the way he had found it.

Next, Gabriel went over to the dresser and glanced at Cas with a smirk on his face. “You know, it’s strange but most humans keep their delicate underthings in the exact same place—top drawer—” he said, grasping the handle.

Cas slammed his hand into the drawer keeping it closed and Gabriel looked at him in surprise. “I really think you’ve done enough spying.” Cas’s voice and expression were stern now, but it only elicited a mischievous glint in Gabriel’s golden eyes.

“Spying? I’m just trying to get to know this Y/N better,” Gabriel argued, doing his best to sound innocent. “I mean, so far all I know is she’s related to the two meatheads and hangs around with you. And, though it may be a surprise to you, that doesn’t actually tell me anything I’d like to know.”

“If you want to get to know her, why don’t you just go visit her now? Or wait and meet her when she’s back.”

Gabriel gave Cas a skeptical look. “Oh, yes. I’m sure Sam and Dean will have no problem with me sniffing around their Baby Sister. They’re not known to be particularly suspicious or protective.” His tone was dripping with sarcasm. ��Especially after all those Dead Dean Days…”

Cas grimaced a little at the thought. “Well… you also saved them by facing Lucifer. They will not have forgotten that. You redeemed yourself, at least in part,” Cas said, tilting his head in his familiar habit.

The archangel looked surprisingly uncomfortable with Cas’s sincerity. “Fine. Enough snooping. Come on, brother,” he said, laying a heavy hand on Cas’s shoulder. “Let’s grab a drink and you can tell me all about losing your grace and what mortality feels like.”

Cas frowned, but he didn’t object. He was glad just to get Gabriel out of your room…

_ _ _ _ _ _

Several weeks later

You leaned your head back on the pillows and let out a frustrated groan. “UGH! Where is this doctor?!” you demanded.

Sam gave you a look. “I’m sure he’s on his way,” he said gently, trying to placate you.

You threw off your blankets and climbed out of the hospital bed onto your feet, moving a little hunched over as you rolled your IV stand with you.

“Whoa, whoa! Hey!” Dean jumped up and stopped you. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I can’t stay in that bed another minute or I’m gonna lose it!”

“We’re not even sure if you’re going to get released today, so you might as well get used to the idea that you may have to stay in that bed for a couple more days,” he retorted. “So, get back in bed!”

You vehemently pointed a finger in his face. “HEY. You’re not my doctor! You don’t get to boss me around!”

Dean drew himself up to his full height and gave you a severe look.

You didn’t waver. “I’m not scared of you!”

This drew a laugh from Sam and when you glanced over he was shaking his head. “Y/N, please just at least sit down. I’m sure the doctor—”

“—is in!” As if on cue your doctor strolled through the door, you chart in his hand. He gave you a big smile. “Alright, Y/N. Hop back up on the bed again, would you? Let’s see how you’re doing.”

He hadn’t even examined your incision yet and the words were spilling out of you. “Can I go home today?” you asked urgently.

This elicited a laugh from him and he gave you an appraising look. “As soon as I know, you’ll know,” he said diplomatically.

You tried to be a good patient and sit perfectly still as he checked your incision but you couldn’t help fidgeting and chewing your bottom lip. The doctor straightened back up and crossed his arms. “Well, no sign of infection. Incision seems to be healing nicely, so—” “YES!” you exclaimed.

“SO,” he continued through a smile, “I’m going to release you but with very strict instructions. I need you to really hear me right now, Y/N. Okay?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes. I’m listening.”

“NO lifting anything heavier than a few pounds—you know what, no lifting anything, okay? Absolutes seem safer with you. And you are NOT to be doing anything physical for 3 more weeks, at which time you can start with some easy physical activity. Long walks, some stretching, that kind of stuff. And you will need to get another post-op check-up around then too.”

You nodded. “Okay. I got it.”

“Now, your brothers here ARE now in charge since I can’t be there to keep you in line,” he said, a knowing smile on his face. He must have overheard you and Dean from the hallway.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you argued.

“I’m not kidding. You need to let them take care of you. And you two,” he said, pointing at Sam and Dean in turn, “need to make sure she rests.”

A gruff laugh escaped Dean. “Easier said than done.”

“I know,” the doctor said. “I’ve been dealing with her for only about a month. You two have been dealing with her for a lifetime,” he joked, shooting you a glance.

“I’m right here, you know!” you burst out. “I can hear everything you’re saying!”

The doctor laughed and held out a hand to you. “Y/N, it’s been a pleasure to watch you recover. Now be well, and rest.”

This time you didn’t have anything snarky to say and just grasped his hand in yours and shook it. “Thank you. For… not letting me die and stuff.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re welcome. Gentleman,” he turned to Sam and Dean who both shook his hand and thanked him repeatedly. “The nurse will be in shortly to take care of that IV and check you out. Take care.”

You watched him go with a triumphant smile on your face. Sam and Dean both looked a little anxious, however. “Oh, come on, guys! He said I’m fine. We can go home!”

“You heard the doctor though. Seriously, Y/N. You’re on house arrest,” Dean said forcefully.

“Whatever. I don’t even care. Just get me out of here,” you said climbing down to your feet again. Soon a nurse came in and removed your IV. You kicked Sam and Dean out of the room so you could change out of your hospital gown for the first time in what felt like years. Another few minutes and you were stepping into the hallway, a huge grin on your face.

Sam shouldered your bag and gave you an appraising look. “You alright?” You were still a little hunched over. Straightening up completely still made you sore.

“I’m great,” you said. “Look! I’m wearing actual clothes!” You glanced down at the sweatpants and t-shirt you had pulled on. “Sort of.”

Dean couldn’t help smiling at you fondly while shaking his head. “You sure you don’t want me to go grab a wheelchair? It’s a bit of a walk.”

You scowled at him.

“I’m being serious, Y/N,” Dean said, the gravel in his voice deepening. “You’ve only done short walks around the floor.”

“There is no way in hell you’re getting me in a wheelchair.”

You managed to make it out to the Impala, though Dean had insisted on driving right up to the exit to pick you up. You slid into the back seat and sighed. “Oh, I missed you, Baby,” you said out loud, sinking in to the familiar seat and breathing in that particular smell that always made you remember road trips and hunts and late-night cheeseburgers.

Dean smiled at you in the rearview mirror. He lowered his voice and turned to Sam. “You talk to Cas?” he asked in an undertone.

“No. It still just keeps going straight to voicemail,” Sam said. “But he texted me again… to explain the origins of pineapple,” Sam said, a tight smile on his face. “It took like 30 texts.”

“What the hell is going on with him? He’s been weirder than usual.”

“Well, he has been trapped at the bunker alone for kind of a long time…” Sam said.

“He could have talked with us if he would ever answer his goddamn phone,” Dean countered, turning onto the highway. “Maybe he’s finally cracked.”

“Who?” you asked, leaning forward and resting your hands on the back of the front seat.

“Nobody,” Dean said. You scoffed.

“That’s convincing…” you said under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Why don’t you just focus on getting all healed up and let Sammy and me worry about everything else, alright?”

“You know, it’s weird, but my cells do that part pretty much on their own. It doesn’t require much conscious thought on my part. So, if someone has cracked—”

“Nobody’s cracked,” Dean said gruffly, hands steady on the wheel.

“You just said—"

“I just said nothing for you to worry about,” Dean said finally.

You let out a frustrated growl and changed tactics. “Fine. I’ll change the subject,” you said smugly.

“Thank you…”

“Any news on Gabriel?” you asked loudly, sinking back into your seat comfortably.

There was a long, silent pause from the front seat and you could see that Dean’s grip on the steering wheel had tightened.

Sam turned partially around, one arm on the seat back and looked at you. “You know there isn’t.” “No, I don’t know that. You two are obviously keeping something from me, so I think it is fair to assume you’re keeping other stuff from me too.”

“We really don’t know anything about Gabriel,” Sam said, sincerity written all over his face.

You chewed your bottom lip anxiously. Sam took in your expression. “Have you—seen him again?” he asked.

“No. No, nothing like that but since that happened, I just have this feeling—he said we would be seeing each other again and it’s like, in my core, I know that’s true.” You looked up and caught Sam’s eyes, they were steady on your face and narrowed slightly in concern. “I know that doesn’t make any sense and I know you and Dean said he’s gone but it’s such a strong feeling. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“I believe you,” Sam said. “For now, I guess we just have to wait…”

Many hours later, Dean finally pulled the Impala into the underground garage at the bunker and opened the door for you. Inside, an archangel and a graceless angel perked up as they heard noise in the garage. Cas shot upright and glanced over at Gabriel, who only smiled serenely back at him.

“Showtime!”

Cas gave him an apprehensive look and started off in the direction of the garage immediately. Gabriel followed, but at a leisurely pace, seemingly completely unconcerned.

But Cas didn’t know that this was mostly an act. There was a strange sensation in Gabriel’s chest and it was growing the closer he came to the moment when he would see you—meet you—for real this time, not in some mind dreamscape. He couldn’t even explain to himself why but he felt that this moment was going to change everything for him in some way—he knew no reason why that would be true. He had been fascinated with you since he first became aware again and had been thrust into some role connected with you… but he had this feeling, like a heavy block of cement in the middle of his chest sitting on top of his heart which was maddening in its oddity. It was like expectation and something more had solidified and despite all his trying he couldn’t shift it.

Dean pushed through the door into the bunker trailed closely by you, and then Sam hauling your bag and his own. “Cas?!” Dean roared. “Are you alive in here?”

Cas came hurrying around a corner in the hallway and his expression stopped all of you dead in your tracks. His blue eyes were wide and his face was quite pale, further making the shocking blue stand out.

“…what’s going on?” Dean asked. He was immediately reaching for his pistol.

“Don’t panic, but there’s someone here—”

“How is that supposed to make me not panic?!”

“Cas, do I need to get Y/N out of here?” Sam demanded over your shoulder, already trying to move around you to shield you protectively.

You were surprisingly quiet and Dean looked over his shoulder at you. Your heart was pounding in your chest. “Cas, who is it?” you asked quietly.

He only swallowed at the tightness in his throat and opened his mouth to offer some kind of explanation, but no sound came out. You felt like you didn’t really need him to answer anyway. You already knew.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

A second figure now came around the corner and Dean dropped his duffel bag where he stood, his fists clenched.

“Welcome home, Winchester Clan!” Gabriel said cheerfully, his arms spread wide.

There was just a stretch of tense silence between all of you which the archangel finally broke again. “Dean, if you wouldn’t mind just stepping a liiiittle bit to your right so I can—”

“What the hell are you doing here? How are you here?!” Dean demanded, his jaw tensing.

“That’s how you want to start this?” Gabriel asked, a grimace on his face. “Come on, Dean. I’m here to help. I’m not here to kill you over and over again. Not this time. I promise. Scout’s honor.” He made a small cross over his heart with one finger. Gabriel tilted his head, trying to look around Dean to get a better view of you, but it wasn’t necessary because the next moment you stepped around him slowly.

He couldn’t help the small smile that grew on his face. You found the golden light in his eyes staggering, just as you remembered it from your vision.

“…you,” was all you could get out. Sam and Dean exchanged a tense glance.

He bounced a little on the balls of his feet and slipped his hands into his pockets, actually the result of nerves, but he was hoping it just made him look nonchalant and nonplussed. “Me.”

“You’re—but you’re… What are you doing here?” you asked quietly.

“I told you we’d be seeing each other again, didn’t I? You didn’t believe me?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow at you. You didn’t answer, just peered at him intensely.

He inclined his chin a little as he studied you. “Here—” he said. He moved around Cas and started toward you but was immediately met with loud yells and threats from the Sam and Dean causing him to stop abruptly and raise his hands, palms out. “Guys, guys, guys! Would you two just chill? Really! After all we’ve been through… I’d like to heal what’s left of that nasty gunshot wound if Y/N will let me. Or are you opposed to that? Because she’s in a lot more pain than she’s letting on. I’m guessing she’s hiding it so you two won’t go all crazy protective over her for the rest of her life.”

“No, I’m not!” you argued. Gabriel gave you a skeptical look.

“I can feel it,” he said. When he spoke those words there was something almost desperate in them. “Let me heal you. Please.”

You swallowed hard at the nervous lump in your throat and stepped around Dean again, giving him a small glance. “It’s okay,” you said.

Gabriel stopped right in front of you and gently touched two fingers to your forehead.

You straightened up immediately and breathed in a deep breath, completely filling your lungs, something you hadn’t been able to do without pangs of pain since you’d been shot. Your shoulders relaxed and you gave him a grateful but perplexed look. “Thanks.”

“Welcome home,” he said again, but this time it was quiet, like it was only for your ears. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the fingertips that had just touched your skin. They felt strange, almost like the sensation when your foot falls asleep.

Dean suddenly interrupted the moment by pushing past Gabriel and heading toward the front of the bunker at high speed. Cas turned and jogged to catch up with him, wilting a little under the scowl Dean sent his way.

“Cas, you couldn’t have given us a heads up?” Dean asked angrily.

“You don’t think I tried? He broke every single phone I had and all the new ones I managed to get a hold of. And it’s not exactly like I could just fly over, is it?” he finished bitterly.

Sam stopped next to the two of them and dropped his duffel bag. “So… all those weird texts weren’t from you,” he said with sudden understanding.

Cas looked confused. “What? Weird texts? No. What weird texts?”

The Winchesters and Cas suddenly heard laughter behind them and turned to see Gabriel standing in the doorway with a satisfied smirk. Their expressions were stern.

“Oh, come on! That series of texts about the fuzzy toilet seat lid covers? The ‘bedtime thoughts’ texts? Pure genius on my part. You have to see the humor in this!” Gabriel simply watched as the muscles in their jaws twitched.

Dean rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin. “Goddammit. What the hell is going on?” He turned and looked to Sam who was still just staring in Gabriel’s direction with somewhat wide eyes.

“It’s really not that complicated, Dean. I was sent back to watch out for Y/N. And that’s really all I know.”

This caused deep wrinkles in both Sam and Dean’s foreheads. “Okay, first of all, your definition of ‘not complicated’ could use some adjustment. I would say a DEAD archangel coming back to life is pretty complicated. Second, why does she need anyone more than us watching out for her?” Dean growled.

“Well, seeing as she was just shot and almost died I don’t think I need to really answer that question,” Gabriel snarked back.

Dean’s jaw and fists tensed and Cas stepped forward to put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from attempting to throttle the archangel. Gabriel only smiled serenely.

“That wasn’t their fault,” you argued, having just appeared behind Gabriel in the doorway, feeling sick again because you knew your brothers were already blaming themselves. “It could have been any one of us.”

“But it wasn’t,” Gabriel pointed out.

You looked suddenly weary. “I don’t know why we’re still talking about this at all. I’m completely fine. Better than fine now that I’m magically healed me up. I feel like there are more important things we should be discussing.”

Gabriel raised a finger, like he had a sudden idea. “You’re right. Chiefly, I need to know everything about you. Your likes, your dislikes, formative childhood experiences, deepest darkest secrets—”

You crossed your arms over your chest and were about to snark something back at the archangel but Dean beat you to it. “Alright. That’s enough!” he growled. “You were supposedly sent here to protect her, not be a total creep. You’ve just met her and you’re already trying to invade her privacy,” he said gruffly, his green eyes piercing on the angel’s face.

“Well, technically I think he already—” Cas tried to stop himself but it was too late and your eyes snapped over to Gabriel as he winced and anxiously ran a hand through his hair. Your mouth was hanging partially open and your expression was incredulous.

“What the hell did you do?” you demanded. When he didn’t answer and only shrugged vaguely, the corners of his mouth pulling down in a frown, you turned to Cas again who was doing his best to look anywhere but in your direction. “Cas… Cas! Look at me!”

Gabriel spun and locked his eyes on Cas as well. “Brother, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll be quiet…” he said through his teeth, keeping a forced smile fixed on his face.

“We all know you aren’t good at lying, Cas. Even a lie of omission. Are you really going to lie to me? After everything I’ve just been through?” You purposely tugged on his heartstrings and walked toward him so he had no choice but to glance at you as you moved closer. “Cas, I almost died. And you’re not going to tell me what this archangel who is supposedly here to watch out for me was up to?”

Gabriel shot you a look that was both a little stunned and impressed. “That’s low,” he said. You raised your eyebrows at him and then turned back to Cas again.

You could see the internal turmoil crescendoing until it finally burst out of him. “He went through some of your things in your room. I tried to stop him but—”

“Dude!” Sam exclaimed, his jaw clenching with anger. Dean shut his eyes against the rising tide of rage and his fists tightened. `

Your jaw dropped open again and you turned back to Gabriel and away from a very conflicted-looking Castiel. “What the hell!?” you demanded angrily. “Haven’t you heard of privacy? What exactly gave you the right to go through my room?”

He looked a tinge guilty for a moment before rearranging his features into a questioning expression. “Well, I think I should know a little about my charge—”

You shot a glare at him that was piercing and Gabriel felt his throat tighten. “Your charge? Let’s get one thing straight right now… I’m not your ‘charge’. You do not get to boss me around or make decisions for me.”

Gabriel tilted his head and gave you a peculiar look. “Well… strictly speaking I don’t think that’s true… You see, I’m supposed to protect you which means that I get to decide—”

You interrupted him angrily. “No. No, you don’t get to decide.” You looked at Cas and your brothers who all looked pretty unhappy about what had just played out. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” As you started down the hall, you heard his footsteps following behind you and as you reached the door to your room you spun to face him. “What do you think you’re doing?” you demanded.

Gabriel looked around as if he was expecting you to be talking to someone other than him, but he saw no one else. “Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“I’m just doing my job. You said you’re going to bed so I’m going to watch over you and—”

You angrily bit the inside of your cheek. “No. You’re not. You can stay the hell away from me while I sleep. You’re not setting foot in my room again.”

“Oh, come on! Y/N, please. You’re not really mad about—”

You turned abruptly and slammed the door in his face. Okay, so maybe you were really mad… “You know I can just appear in your room! I’m an archangel. An oak door isn’t—” The door whipped open again and you stood there fuming.

“Go away.” Your voice was quiet but Gabriel could easily hear the anger in it and for now he decided just to back off. You slammed the door in his face again and he sighed heavily, running a hand back through his hair.

Sometime later, Cas wandered down the hall and found Gabriel sitting on the floor, his back up against the wall just beside your shut door, his legs stretched out in front of him. Gabriel looked at him as he approached.

Cas didn’t say anything, just took a seat beside the archangel on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him and staring at his shoes. Gabriel broke the silence first. “Look how far I’ve come,” he said, his tone clearly sarcastic. “I used to lead legions and now I’ve been assigned as some kind of glorified babysitter and here I am, a fallen archangel, sitting on the floor outside her door.”

“You probably wouldn’t be sitting here on the floor if you hadn’t botched that meeting with Y/N so spectacularly,” Cas mused. To his surprise the archangel actually laughed and glanced over at him.

“Yeah, I think you’re right about that, Castiel.” Gabriel sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. “I have a tendency toward self-destructive behavior.”

“When I was an angel, I mean—with my grace, so did I,” Cas said. “Perhaps there is something about being so-called ‘immortal’ that makes us reckless with our own lives.”

Gabriel sighed again heavily. “Perhaps.”

Cas looked over at him and he could see genuine worry on his brother’s face. “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine in the morning. She’s tough. Strong. But kind-hearted. She’ll let you make up for it.” Cas fiddled with the hem of his sleeve. “I see such a mixture of Sam and Dean in her.”

This only drew Gabriel’s brow down more deeply. “That’s what I’m worried about,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t know why I was sent to protect her, but I do know how reckless the Winchesters are with their lives. And all without a single drop of grace.”

Cas’s lips curved ever so slightly in a thoughtful smile. “Yes. But selfless.”

Gabriel glanced over at his brother and felt a pang in his heart for his graceless friend. “Do you miss your trench coat and suit?” he asked him.

Cas’s eyes lifted in surprise at the question and he glanced down at his sweatshirt, picking a piece of lint off the sleeve. “I do. But… it felt wrong wearing it somehow. Like being in a suit of armor while not on the battlefield.”

Gabriel nodded and leaned his head back against the wall. A few moments of comfortable silence passed before he broke it. “I’m sorry for being such a dick since I arrived. All the phones… all the lying… all the snooping. It’s strange to say but I had a level of-—anxiety,” he tilted his head in a question, not even entirely sure that was the right word for what he had been feeling, “about meeting Y/N. And I still messed it up.”

Cas sighed again and patted a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Tomorrow is a new day.” He climbed to his feet and looked down at the archangel, a strange sight sitting like a child on the floor during time-out. “Tomorrow. Goodnight, brother.”

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 7

November 21st - Part 4

“DAMN, THIS MAN!!!”

DeeDee stared at Erik’s latest response. How many more times was she gonna say that tonight? What was she supposed to do with what he said? The man wanted to see her as is, and she did not share anything about how she looks. It’s not like she wasn’t curious about what he looked like now or even how he might sound. Because that has crossed her mind plenty of times as they exchanged email after email. Especially what his face looked like when she switched up his name. 

“UGH...why do you have to be like this?” 

And he left the final decision in her hands. Why didn’t he just try to video call her? You know, see what happened. “Because he knew you wouldn’t answer.” She nodded. Of course, there was no way she would have picked up a surprise call. She sighed, “No pressure, my ass.”

DeeDee reached for her phone. Maybe if she spoke with Phyllis and Beverly, she would gain some clarity. She started typing out her S.O.S. message and then stopped. “Shit, I can’t call them. Then they would know I was lying about the book.” And what a great book he turned out to be. She huffed and tossed the phone onto the coffee table. 

Her playlist was still blaring and when ‘Silver Tongue Devil’ by Masego came on, she rolled her eyes. It was an appropriate sentiment about the man who she has spent the past few hours chatting with. The decision to drop their conversation for the night was ultimately in her hands thanks to him. 

She wrung her hands and looked at the coffee table. The wine bottle was next to her laptop. DeeDee popped up and went to the fridge. She grabbed a bottle of water, returned to her seat on the couch and set it on the table. If she was going to do this, she needed to sober up a bit. 

---

Erik walked out of his bathroom, he tied his towel around his waist. His tablet buzzed and rang on his bed. He walked over to it and pressed the screen to answer the call.

"Hello."

"Uh, Mr. Erik?" The melodious voice rang out from his tablet.

He picked it up, “DeeDee?” Erik was greeted by a hooded figure with glasses, wide eyes and a flushed face. 

DeeDee looked down and away before she addressed him. “And here I thought you would be in a hoodie and sweats, like me.” 

He saw her reach forward and twist the top off a bottle. She looked away from the camera while she drank from it. When she finally returned her gaze to him, he smiled at her. 

DeeDee choked on the water and abruptly stopped the video. 

Erik checked to see if the call was still connected, “DeeDee, you ok?”

“Do you have clothes on?” She squeaked out.

“Not yet.” He could hear her take a deep breath. “Give me a moment.”

---

DeeDee muted herself, kicked her feet up and screamed. 

It took her a whole half an hour to get up the nerve to make the call. She curled up on the couch and threw her hood up. She knew the overhead light would still allow him to see enough of her until she was ready for a full reveal. 

Nothing prepared her for what showed up on the screen. At first, she saw the ceiling and heard his smooth, deep voice greet her. But when he called her name and lifted up the tablet, DeeDee looked respectfully and then closed her eyes. 

This man had the audacity to answer the video call shirtless. Not just shirtless, but straight out of the shower. She could still picture the water droplets across his shoulders and chest. So, he was basically naked. Just from that not so sneaky peek, she knew he was a well-built man.  

DeeDee bit down on her closed fist. “He has dreads, a beard and dimples?!?” She shook her head. “Lord, I wanted my Ph.D. before you called me home.” 

She closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths to calm her rattled nerves. So, he’s smart, compassionate, and fine. Erik was the entire package and DeeDee’s smile softened. NOT YOURS, kept flashing across her mind’s eye. 

“DeeDee?” His voice called her attention back to her laptop.

“Then I’m gonna enjoy this moment.” She whispered to herself and sat up. 

“I’m back and fully clothed.” Erik spoke up.

DeeDee unmuted herself and started the video again. She shyly waved at the camera. “Thank you.”

It looked like he was sitting in the corner of a large sectional couch. Now dressed in a black hoodie and gray sweats. 

“Better?” 

“Much.”

“Okay. So, let’s start over.” He turned his camera off and then flipped it back on, “Hi DeeDee.”

“Hi Mr. Stevens.” DeeDee giggled. 

---

“So, you really aren’t gonna call me Erik?” 

DeeDee shook her head and continued to giggle, her shoulders bounced as she did. Erik took that moment to really look at her. 

Her hood fell back a bit revealing curly black hair, dark brown eyes and purple glitter frames. DeeDee’s cheeks filled out as she smiled and snickered at him. 

Erik reached for his glass of whiskey. He couldn’t control the smile that appeared on his face. She’s beautiful, even more than he imagined. Together with her soft and sweet voice, Erik knew he was a goner. He watched as she calmed down from her laughing fit. 

“You good?” He asked as he lifted the glass to his lips. 

“I’m great. And you?” He watched as she picked up a bottle of wine and emptied it into a glass.

 “DeeDee?” He lifted an eyebrow at her.

“Huh?” Her big, bright eyes blinked at him. 

“Are we really gonna do this?”

“Do what?” She looked up at him over the top of her glasses.

He looked down into his glass, then back up at DeeDee. She brought her drink to her lips and winked at him. 

Erik broke, he started laughing and DeeDee followed. 

“Goofy.” He spoke softly.

“Is that a bad thing?” Her laughter died down.

“No, not at all.” He set his glass down and lifted the tablet from his lap, “It’s actually a pleasant surprise, much like your beautiful smile.” 

---

She set the wine glass down and put her hand over her mouth.

“Don’t do that. I wanted to see it. That’s why I suggested the call.”

DeeDee moved her hand and glanced at him. But she couldn’t keep eye contact with him. 

“DeeDee,” he sang, “Look at me.” 

She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his, “Better?”

“Much.” He winked at her. 

“Please stop doing that.” She closed her eyes but kept her head faced forward.

“Stop what?”

“Winking at me.” DeeDee replied in a softer tone as she opened her eyes.

“Now, why would I do that?” 

“Because I asked nicely.” 

“I could do that. But then you have to do something for me.” Erik smirked at her. 

DeeDee rolled her eyes and pouted at him. 

“You already know what I am gonna ask, right?”

She nodded and reached for her wine.

“DeeDee.”

She took a sip and glared in his direction.

“DeeDee.”

“Yes.” She mumbled.

“Say my name.” His voice was much deeper this time. 

DeeDee bit her lip, and took a deep breath. “Hello Erik.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled at her. 

She groaned.

---

“Not fair. You said you would stop.” Her voice rose as she spoke.

“I agreed to not wink at you anymore.” 

DeeDee rubbed her temples. 

Erik enjoyed watching her get flustered. DeeDee shifted around in her seat, dropping her legs to the floor. He could make out the Columbia Blue and Gold Southern logo on the front of her hoodie as she stuffed her hands in the front pocket. 

“Do I make you nervous, D --”

“Yes.” She blurted out.

“Why?” 

Erik was used to women’s reactions to him, but this felt different. As much as he delighted in her reaction to him and simple things like a smile and wink. He did not want it to get uncomfortable for her. He still wanted the chance to get to know her.

“It’s ok. You don’t have to answer that.”  

“I wasn’t expecting you to --” She waved her hands around, “Do you always answer video calls like that?”

Erik laughed as DeeDee pulled her hood down to shield herself from his view. It was too late for that. She was already committed to his memory. 

“No, I don’t.”

“So what happened?” 

“I forgot.”

DeeDee cackled, “Nuh uh. How do you forget something like that?” She shook her head at him. 

“It’s easy to forget when you were hoping that someone wanted to continue talking to you.”

She folded her knees into her chest. “Oh.”

“DeeDee.” Erik waited until she looked at him. “What made you call me?”

“I was curious about you, too.” 

Erik lifted his glass of whiskey to her. DeeDee grabbed her wine and returned the gesture.

DeeDee and Erik both smiled at one another and took a drink. 

Taglist: @teakturn​ @ghostfacekill-monger​ @shaekingshitup​ @nahimjustfeelingit-writes​ @woahitslucyylu​ @ladymac82​ @bugngiz​ @eyeknowmywrites​ @ajspencer1892​ @arafatih​ @issimplyaamazinggg​ @tchallasbabymama​

[justatiredpotato]

Set Me Free | Chapter 3

Chapter List

Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU

Word Count: Chapter: 5,000~ Total: 40,000~

Updates daily at 10pm MST

Warnings: panic attacks, implied past sexual abuse/exploitation, harassment

Summary: Yoongi, a cat hybrid, has been hurt time and time again by a world that would have him believe he’s worthless. One day he finds himself in your protective care, and gets a new family to boot. But is it really that easy to escape the past and embrace a new beginning?

Author’s Note: In this fic the reader’s name is Yeoji

When you woke up sunlight was already streaming in through the kitchen windows. You blinked, shifting to stretch and flinching at the pain in your joints. You’d fallen asleep sitting up. Glancing down at the boy still laying on your lap, you couldn’t help but smile as you brushed his fringe out of his eyes. He nuzzled into your hand and whined, the sound more of a grumble because of his naturally low voice. You glanced up at the windows, eyes flitting to the clock on the wall. 

You sat bolt upright, a gasp leaving your lips. Yoongi was awake instantly, protectively leaning toward you while scanning the room for threats.

“What happened?” he said, words slurred together a bit from drowsiness.

“I’m late!” you leapt off the couch and sprinted into your room, door bouncing on its hinges as you tried to throw it shut behind you. “I need to open the cafe. Ugh, and the festival is starting today too!”

You paced your room, grabbing clothing items at random, already peeling off the things you’d fallen asleep in the night before. No time to wash up or do your full makeup, you thought, quickly tying your hair up in a messy bun. Hurrying to your bathroom you brushed your teeth and splashed some water on your face before applying mascara and a little bit of concealer.

“Yoongi, is my phone out there?” you called. He hollered back an affirmative. “Can you grab it and see if Jungkook has called? He’s supposed to be working today, I’m sure he’s wondering where I am.” 

You exited the bathroom, grabbing your top off the bed and pulling it on as you rummaged through the closet for your work shoes. 

“You have three missed calls from him,” Yoongi informed you, coming to bring you your phone. You didn’t see him as he pulled up short at the door, face going bright red as he saw you stumble across the room trying to pull on your black skinny jeans. He quickly looked away and pulled the door shut as quietly as he could.

 “Here’s your phone, noona,” he called through the door, still facing away. 

You pulled the door open, completely oblivious. “Thank you, Yoongi!” You leaned on his shoulder as you pulled your second shoe over your heel. “If you feel up to getting dressed and coming out front, I’ll introduce you to Kookie.” You peered at his face, noting the bright flush. “Are you feeling okay?” you asked, putting your hand to his forehead.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly. “You should go ahead. I’ll be out in a bit.”

You nodded, calling behind you as you headed out front, “Tell me if you aren’t feeling well. I’ll go buy some medicine.”

Yoongi let out a breath and tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed how good your butt looked in those jeans as you walked away.

When you emerged from the kitchen into the cafe you were shocked to find it open, with a few customers sitting and chatting at the small tables by the windows.

“Noona!” Jungkook greeted you cheerfully.

“Koo!” you responded, running over to wrap the tall boy in a hug. “Did you open by yourself this morning?”

“Yeah, I have a key. I figured you must’ve been really tired, so I didn’t bother you. Is that new guy giving you trouble?” Jungkook asked, concerned. “I was going to go break the door down if you didn’t come out soon.”

“Yoongi is great, though I appreciate the concern. You didn’t call Joon, did you?” you asked. He was already nervous about Yoongi staying with you. You really didn’t want another lecture about being too trusting.

“No,” he answered with a mischievous grin. “I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I’m not worried about getting in trouble with my little brother!”

That was a lie. Namjoon’s lectures were notoriously long, and being his big sister did not protect you from his scolding. Jungkook laughed knowingly at your denial.

“Yoongi will be out in a little while, I want you to meet him. He’s really sweet, but he’s quiet. I figure if he gets to know you before he meets the other boys he might feel more comfortable,” you explained.

“You mean I’m your favorite? The only one you can trust for the job!” he said, bunny ears twitching happily as he puffed out his chest.

“Yep! You’re the best,” you confirmed, getting up on your tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. “The sweetest hybrid and cutest baby brother. Don’t tell Joon or Jimin.”

He nodded, grinning. Jungkook walked over to continue cleaning the espresso machines, as he’d been doing before you arrived.

“How’s business this morning?” you asked, washing the cups that had accumulated in the sink.

“Pretty quiet so far. It’s been picking up since about 9 this morning. That’s when people really started setting up for the festival.”

The festival was a new event for the area. For the rest of the week tradesmen, business owners, and artists would occupy the plaza and promote their various products and services. They also had a stage set up at the far end where local musicians would be performing. More traffic was expected for all the businesses in the area.

“It’s only Monday, the weekend will probably pick up a lot more,” you said. 

Jungkook nodded, going to restock some of the coffee syrups on the back counter. “Is Jimin-hyung coming in to help you tomorrow?” he asked. 

Jungkook was starting classes this semester at the nearby university, where Jimin was already a dance major. You normally worked Tuesday alone, since both boys had classes. But they’d wanted you to have extra help since you’d be busy with the festival. You didn’t want to make either of them skip class, so Yoongi coming to work with you was perfect timing. You’d meant to ask him if he’d be up to starting the night before.

“I think I’m going to have Yoongi help out tomorrow. Can you help show him around and teach him today? It’d be a good opportunity to get to know each other.”

“Does that mean I get to boss him around?” Jungkook asked, eyes twinkling. He got tired of always being the maknae.

“No, he’s your hyung, and I expect you to be polite.” You shot him a look. He pouted and your expression softened. You were never able to truly scold Jungkook.

“You’re gonna like him Kookie, I know it. He’s been through a lot. I need you to help me help him, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. You ruffled his hair, scratching his ears while you were at it. 

You both continued about your tasks until Yoongi emerged. He’d dressed in a similar way to you, tidyand all black. Whether that had been an attempt at matching the dress-code or because most of what he’d bought was black, you weren’t sure.

“Yoongi!” you greeted, waving him over. “Come meet my little brother.”

He walked over to join you. Jungkook looked him over, nose twitching. You watched as the two hybrids appraised each other, knowing they could communicate a lot without words. After a moment, Jungkook broke into a darling bunny grin.

“Nice to meet you, hyung! I’m Jungkook. We kind of met before, when you came into the shop,” he held out his hand. Yoongi took it and shook politely.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Yoongi.”

None of you knew what to say after that, the pause becoming a little uncomfortable.

“I’m glad you’ll be here to help Yeoji-noona tomorrow,” Jungkook broke the silence. “Jimin-hyung, the other guy who works here, and I have classes tomorrow. It’s good she won’t be by herself.” 

Yoongi looked at you expectantly.

“Right, I hadn’t been able to tell you yet. If you feel well enough, I could really use your help tomorrow. Jungkook and I can teach you the ropes today.”

“Yeah, of course,” Yoongi said, looking around the shop.

You spent the remaining part of the morning showing Yoongi where things were and teaching him some basic recipes that people ordered frequently.

“If you forget, there’s a book with all the recipes right here.” You opened a drawer under the espresso machines. “And I’ll be with you the whole time, so you can also just ask me. Mostly I’ll have you help me with dishes and keeping things stocked.”

Yoongi paid close attention, asking questions here and there. You let Jungkook take over the teaching when a new customer came up to the counter. The two were a little stiff, clearly cautious of each other for the moment, but they seemed to relax as the hours slipped away. You sent them back to the apartment to have their lunch, and when they came back their demeanor was entirely different. You looked between the two of them, clearly surprised.

“Did you know Yoongi-hyung writes music?” Jungkook asked. His face lit up like a little kid in a toy store. You nodded, smiling at Yoongi’s quietly pleased expression.

“I’d heard you play before, but I didn’t know it was your original stuff!” he said. “You’re amazing, hyung! Can you show me some of your work sometime?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi agreed. He ducked his head, not sure how to react to the praise. He seemed to think of something and his face fell. “My keyboard got wrecked, so I won’t be able to play you anything. Sorry.”

Jungkook looked at him sadly. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong,” Jungkook asked. Yoongi just looked at him, incredulous. You smiled proudly. That’s your boy.

“I can bring my keyboard from home!” Jungkook said. Yoongi looked at the younger man hopefully.

“Really? You’d let me play it?” he asked, unsure if he could trust the generosity.

“Yeah, as long as you let me listen!” he said, his smile making his nose scrunch cutely.

You worked quietly and listened to the boys chatter on about music and Jungkook’s schooling, smiling as it blended with the pleasant background noise of the cafe.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

You set several alarms on Monday night so you woke up on time Tuesday. You had tried to make Yoongi take your bed, insisting you’d be okay on the couch, but in the end he took the couch. You puttered around your room, trying to be quiet and let Yoongi sleep a little extra while you showered and put on your makeup. Once you were ready for the day you poked your head out into the living room.

“Yoon?” you called softly, walking over to the couch. He stirred a little in his sleep, burrowing further into his blanket so only his eyes showed above it. You resisted the urge to pull out your phone and snap a picture. Instead, you reached out and softly shook his shoulder.

“Yoon?” you said again, a little louder this time. “It’s time to get up, we have to open soon.”

He blinked, peering up at you through his lashes and fringe. 

“Did I oversleep?” He sat up quickly and rubbed sleep from his eyes. “I set an alarm for the time you told me.”

He examined his phone to see why it hadn’t woken him.

“Ah, I set it for PM not AM.” He looked at you apologetically.

“That’s okay,” you assured him. “I wanted to let you sleep a little longer. I feel bad having you start working so soon.”

“I’m fine!” he said, rising from his spot and folding his blanket. “Do I have time to shower before we open?”

“Yeah, take your time. I’m just going to get a couple things set up. Come out whenever you’re ready.”

He disappeared into your room to get ready and you headed out front to get the cafe ready. You took all the chairs down off the tables, straightening decorations as you went. You pulled the blinds open all the way and turned on the string lights that cast the whole place in a warm light, hopefully drawing commuters to come in out of the frigid morning air.

Then you returned to the counter to make yourself a warm drink, making some cheese toast for you and Yoongi, and making him a warm latte with lots of whipped cream. As you finished his drink he emerged from the back.

“Perfect timing!” you said. “Come have breakfast before I unlock the door.”

He grinned, looking at what you’d prepared and gratefully accepting the warm beverage.

“I made you a latte this time, since you seemed to like cream. I hope that’s okay?” you asked, unsure if you should’ve checked first.

“Yeah, I think this is actually my new favorite,” he said, taking a big sip that left a bit of whipped cream on his upper lip. You giggled, pulling out your phone.

“Don’t move!” you said. He froze with his cup just inches from his lips, looking up at you questioningly. Right then, you snapped the picture. He heard the shutter noise and groaned.

“Noona!” he whined, surprising you with the cute behavior. “Delete that!”

“Absolutely not,” you said coolly, looking happily at the picture. In the shop’s soft lighting Yoongi looked absolutely angelic. He set his drink down and reached for the phone, but you dodged away from him.

“I’m keeping it!” insisted, holding the phone behind you when he grabbed for it again. You stifled a laugh when you noticed he still hadn’t gotten the cream off his lip. He frowned at you, closer to a pout than he would ever admit.

“Wait, wait!” you said, still laughing as he continued trying to grab your phone from behind you. “I’ll let you take a silly picture of me too. Then you can embarrass me with it if I ever show this cute picture to anyone.”

He paused his attempts and considered your offer. He must’ve realized he was unlikely to get you to delete the picture, because he nodded and pulled out his phone. Your drink didn’t have whip on it, so you took a sip of his, making sure to give yourself a mustache with it. Some of it ended up on your nose too. He pulled out his phone and took the picture, chuckling as you made dumb faces at him.

“Let’s take one together!” you said as he moved to pocket his phone again. He rolled his eyes, but quickly pulled out his phone and turned to stand next to you. He bent down a little and put his arm around your shoulder to pull you into the shot. You grinned at your picture on the screen, both still sporting whipped cream on your faces. He took several pictures and you convinced him to make a couple silly faces to match yours. You glanced at the clock in the top corner of the screen.

“Oh, I need to open the front door!” you said, realizing that it was three minutes past your normal opening time.

You hurried to the door, wrestling the keys out of your pocket. As you unlocked the door and flicked on the open sign, you missed how Yoongi smiled softly, scrolling through the photos you’d just taken. Literally seconds after you turned from the door, the bell jingled. You turned to greet your first customer of the morning and were greeted by a familiar heart-shaped smile.

“Hobi!” Your face immediately lit up with a smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure, sunshine?”

“Morning, noona,” he said, wrapping you in a tight hug. “I’m making housecalls today, so I figured I’d drop by and get my caffeine fix on the way to my first patient.” He glanced up over your shoulder at Yoongi, observing the interaction from behind the counter.

“Hey there,” Hoseok called to him, walking to the counter with an arm still around your shoulders. Yoongi’s ears flattened, body tensing with anxiety as the man approached and you detached yourself from Hoseok’s side to rejoin him around the counter. You wrapped an arm around Yoongi’s waist and gestured to Hoseok.

“You guys didn’t exactly get an introduction before, huh?” you said, trying for a light tone. “This is my friend Hoseok. He’s the doctor that treated you-”

“I remember,” Yoongi interrupted, refusing to meet Hoseok’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok cut in abruptly. Yoongi glanced up at him, clearly surprised. “You were in bad shape and my priority was to get you stable. You weren’t able to give your consent for treatment at the time, but I know that it wasn’t a pleasant experience. You must’ve been scared. I sure as hell would’ve been. So, I’m sorry that you had to go through all that.”

There was a pause as Yoongi processed Hoseok’s words, seeming to scan his face for sincerity. In the end he just nodded, but you felt his thin body relax a little, ears cautiously sitting back up. 

“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to start over,” Hoseok said, holding out his hand for a shake. Yoongi raised an eyebrow, but accepted the handshake. “I’m Jung Hoseok,” the boy said, flashing another 100 megawatt smile.

“Yoongi,” Yoongi answered quietly. “Nice to meet you.”

He broke the handshake and gave a polite bow.

“You don’t have to be so formal! I told you, your only hyung here is Jin,” you said, nudging him. Hoseok smiled wider.

“Let’s get along well, hyung!” he said, bowing to Yoongi instead. Yoongi blinked at you, confused by the show of respect, but he didn’t comment on it. Hoseok stood by the counter, chatting with you happily while you made his coffee. Once he got it he waved and got on his way, turning to wave again through the window before disappearing down the sidewalk.

You and Yoongi didn’t talk much, but fell into an efficient rhythm working together. As it got busier, you focused on taking orders while Yoongi helped wash dishes and keep the tables clean. Around three, Jungkook came by, his class having let out early. He offered to take over so Yoongi could go get some rest, but he gratefully declined. He seemed to be enjoying the chill atmosphere of the cafe.

You and Jungkook talked about his classes while you served drinks to the festival-goers passing through. The sun was hanging low in the sky, string lights illuminating the plaza outside. Your attention was drawn away from the drink you were preparing when a shrill voice cut through the soft chatter of the cafe.

“Kitten?” the voice said. “It is you! It’s my favorite kitten.”

You turned to see Yoongi drop the tray of dishes he’d been clearing, eyes wide as he looked at the woman who had spoken. She looked about thirty, though judging by the stiffness of her features that could be off by ten years or so. She had bleached blonde hair and unreal proportions. She towered over Yoongi in her heeled boots, and he backed away, bumping into the table as she stepped toward him.

“Where have you been?” she asked, completely ignoring his discomfort. “I’ve missed you! The club just isn’t the same without you. I asked and your masters said you must’ve gotten lost. They looked everywhere for you.”

You stepped out from behind the counter and headed toward them as the woman grabbed the tie of Yoongi’s apron and pulled him to her, grabbing his chin in her fingers and holding his face inches from hers.

“How could you leave me? I know I was your favorite customer,” she smirked, an almost predatory glint in her eyes. He refused to meet her eyes, trying to pull away. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but she tightened her grip on his face, making him wince and shut his mouth. 

You pushed a chair aside with a loud screech as you reached them. Your body moved before you could think, one hand clasping Yoongi’s white the other grabbed the woman’s hand in a vice-like grip. You pushed her away with more force than entirely necessary.

“Is there a problem?” you asked, glaring icy daggers at the woman. Yoongi kept his eyes on the ground. His whole body shook and his grip on your hand bordered on painful. You stepped in front of him protectively and turned to face the woman again. She had stumbled back a few steps, unsteady in her impractical shoes.

“What’s your problem b****?” she snapped. She looked from you to Yoongi, a wicked sneer spreading on her lips. “Ah, I see. You found a new girl to whore yourself out to? She must be desperate to settle for damaged goods. I pitied you, kitten. It’s only a matter of time unt-”

You were already walking away, noting with disgust that none of your customers had stepped in to help. Instead, they all avoided looking at you or Yoongi as you slipped back behind the counter and headed to the kitchen.

“Call the police,” you said flatly to Jungkook, who had been watching with an expression not unlike a bunny in headlights. He nodded, phone already in his hand. “Tell them we have CCTV footage and we’d like to press charges.”

You heard the woman splutter behind you, barking profanity before her footsteps retreated to the door. You heard the bell chime as she exited but you continued back through the kitchen and into the apartment. As soon as the door fell shut you turned to Yoongi, his hand still clutched tightly in yours. His eyes were still on the floor, staring into nothing. You guided him gently to sit on the couch. He refused to release your hand so you awkwardly used your free one to pull his favorite blanket around his shoulders.

“Yoon?” you started softly. “Sweetheart?” You gave his hands a gentle squeeze. His eyes flicked up to meet yours.

“She- she- I was-” His eyes darted between yours, panic finally surfacing through the shock. “They’ll take me back,” he said, breaths coming too quickly as his body shook harder.

“No. No they won’t,” you said firmly. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promised you I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again and I meant it.”

He didn’t seem to hear you, so you placed a gentle hand on his cheek. He flinched away at first, but you waited until he looked at you before repeating yourself.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Yoongi. You’re safe with me.” Tears slipped down his cheeks, mirroring the ones that already fell on yours. He still gasped for air, and you recognized a panic attack when you saw one. Jungkook had them frequently when he first came to you and Namjoon.

“Sweetheart, I need you to slow your breathing down. Can you breathe with me?” He looked at you with wide-eyes, struggling to draw a normal breath. You took a deep breath yourself, loud enough for him to hear. He squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to follow your slow inhale. You held the breath for a moment before releasing it, repeating the process for several minutes until he was able to follow. Tears continued to fall down his face, and he was still shaking.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” you praised, wiping the tears from his face. “What can I do? How can I help?”

He paused, seeming to hesitate as he drew another shaky breath. Then he moved forward, thin arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your neck. You immediately wrapped him in your arms, petting his hair gently, continuing to take deep breaths as he kept following. After a while you felt his breaths even out, thinking maybe he fell asleep. Doing your best not to jostle him, you pulled out your phone. It had been almost an hour, and you quickly texted Jungkook.

You sighed, the last thing you needed was an overbearing little brother getting Yoongi worked up again. You switched to your conversation with Namjoon.

You turned to Yoongi, knowing you had to let him know Namjoon was on his way. The last thing he needed was an unexpected guest.

“Yoon? You awake?” He nodded against your shoulder, not pulling away yet. “My brother, Namjoon, is coming over to check on us,” you said softly. You felt him tense. “He just wants to make sure we’re okay,” you tried to reassure him. “He’s bringing us dinner. Maybe we can watch a movie?”

Yoongi pulled away from you and your heart broke again when you saw his puffy eyes, red from crying. He took a hiccuping breath, then nodded.

“Okay.” He seemed to ponder for a moment. “Is he mad?”

“What do you mean? At us?” you asked.

“At me,” he clarified.

You frowned. “Why would he be mad at you?”

“It’s my fault. Her making a scene and yelling. She could’ve hurt you. And it would’ve been my fault,” he said. You pulled him back into your arms, holding him tightly.

“Yoongi, listen to me. Nothing that’s happened has been your fault. You did nothing to deserve that kind of treatment. And everything that awful witch said was a lie. You are wonderful.” You punctuated the statement with a gentle squeeze before pulling away from him. He nodded, wiping at his face with a sleeve.

“Let’s get cleaned up a bit, why don’t you change out of your work clothes? Joon will be here soon,” you said, standing and heading to the bathroom. You washed your face and changed into some sweats. Yoongi went after you grabbing a fluffy sweater to change into. Just as the bedroom door closed behind him you heard a knock at your door. Namjoon stood on the step with a bag of food and two six-packs of beer.

“Chimaek!” he announced proudly. You smiled tiredly and let him in. He set the food on the kitchen counter and you immediately grabbed a beer and popped it open.

“That bad?” Namjoon asked, grimacing. You only grunted in response. “The police really won’t do anything?”

“If I ever see that b**** again, I’ll kill her myself. Then the police will get involved,” you growled.

“Not if I help you hide the body,” Namjoon said, opening a can of beer himself. You gave him a small smile and clinked your cans together.

Yoongi emerged from the bedroom then, bundled in his baggy grey sweats and a yellow sweater that gave him perfect sweater paws. You waved him over, pulling out a beer for him.

“I don’t think you two really met, did you?” you asked, not waiting for a response. “This is my little brother, Namjoon. Joonie, this is Yoongi.”

Yoongi bowed politely, and Namjoon glanced at you as he bowed back. “Nice to meet you. Jungkook wouldn’t shut up about you when he got home last night. Sounds like you’re gunning for my spot as favorite hyung!” he said playfully.

“Of course not,” Yoongi said meekly.

“I’m kidding, hyung,” Namjoon said, laughing awkwardly. Yoongi looked up sharply at the respectful tone. That made two humans in one day speaking politely to him? What the hell was with these people?

“S***, is that too friendly? I just feel like you’re already family. Yeoji-noona mentioned you coming into the shop a bunch, so it’s like I know you,” Namjoon rambled. You shot him a look, but the words were already said.

“You mentioned me?” Yoongi asked, genuinely surprised, but happy.

“Yeah,” you said, a little shy at being called out. “I’d always hoped we could be friends, or something. And then with everything, I ended up getting to know you better.”

Yoongi smiled then, for the first time since the incident. His eyes sparkled with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Namjoon watched the exchange with interest, letting the moment hang for a moment before interrupting it.

“Let’s eat! The chicken will get cold,” he said. 

“Chicken?” Yoongi said, excitement obvious in his voice, eyes sparkling with something very recognizable this time. Namjoon grinned, picking up the food and moving to the living room. You picked a movie and settled onto the floor so you could eat at the coffee table. 

By the time every bone was picked clean, Namjoon was on his third beer. You and Yoongi and you had finished off five each. To be fair, it had been a long day. You had all migrated onto the couch, Namjoon on one end, you in the middle, Yoongi on the other. As you watched the movie Yoongi naturally curled himself into you, head resting on your lap. You mindlessly played with his hair and he was out in minutes. Namjoon watched you, a smirk playing on his lips as he heard the purr rumble from Yoongi’s chest. When the movie ended, he shook you gently.

“Noona, you guys should get to bed. Your back will hurt,” he said. 

You nodded drowsily, waking Yoongi and pulling him to his feet. You dragged him along, shuffling into your room and tucking a barely-conscious Yoongi into bed. You returned to see off Namjoon, who was putting on his jacket.

“Don’t drive!” you said, ever the protective older sister despite being a little drunk and very drowsy.

“I called a cab.” He chuckled, patting your head. You scowled and brushed his hand away, then wrapped him in a hug.

“Thank you for coming, Joon,” you mumbled against his chest.

“Of course,” he answered, planting a kiss in your hair before pulling away. “Go to sleep, I’ll lock the door on my way out.”

He waved you off and you crept back into your bedroom, flopping into bed and curling up against the warm figure that was already softly snoring away.

[neon-junkie]

Blood Sport - Male Version

Summary: You beating Micah to an inch of his life has done nothing but give in a hard-on. Maybe you should make use of this?

Pairing: Micah Bell x m!Reader

Word Count: 2699

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Rating: NSFW

Tags: Violence, Blood, Bruises, Hickeys, Fight, Choking, Dirty talk, Smut, Anal sex, Creampies, Fingering.

Notes: I finally got round to writing the male version, yay!!! It’s just as sinful :)

Female Version  

You hated him. You despised him. You loathed him.

This man, this pathetic excuse for a man. He was the worst person you'd ever met, the worst thing God had put upon this Earth.

This past week he'd been especially nasty to you. Normally, the two of you would rarely interact. When you first joined the gang he tried it on with you a few times; the usual cheeky pickup line followed by a groan when you rejected him. The girls had warned you about him after your first interaction, concerned that he was just trying to tempt you onto him so he could mock you for your sexuality. They then ensured you that anyone would come to your need if he ever took things too far. You knew the camp was safe but continued to question why this rat slept amongst them.

On this pleasant day, he had made racist remarks to both Charles and Lenny, made a snide remark to Grimshaw, had almost gotten into a fight with Arthur, and had tripped over Uncle whilst he was sleeping and blamed it on him. Wonderful.

Thankfully, the day was almost over. Well, for most of the gang it was. You were put on guard duty for a good few hours into the night. No bother. Horseshoe Overlook was actually a quiet location and you'd never seen or heard anyone try and get close to the camp, despite it being so close to the main road.

So there you were, gun in hand as you strolled around the forest, a few hours into your shift. The night had been peaceful but of course, someone was on their way over to ruin it. You heard rustling coming from behind you and turned around just in time to see that distinct white hat figure stumbling about. Sigh.

"There you are," Micah slurred as he approached you, resting his weight against the tree as he put his hands on his gunbelt, trying to look cool.

"Here I am," you sighed.

"Oh, don't be like that. I ain't here to annoy you," Micah rolled his eyes.

"What are you here for then?" A question that you probably shouldn't have asked.

"You know, darlin'. I could do with your help."

"I ain't your darlin'. And what do you need? You want me to go push you off that cliff?" you snapped.

"Easy there," Micah raised his hands, laughing slightly. He slowly walked towards you, his hands still raised. "How about I show you what I need help with, huh?"

"Just tell me. I ain't here to play games." You try and push him away from you with the bottom of your gun, but he pushes it aside and steps forward.

"Now now. Just c'mere," Micah says as he puts a hand on your waist.

Nope.

You punch him in the stomach with the bottom of your gun, shoving him backward. He manages to remain standing, but was hunched over.

"Eager there, ain't you?" Micah says as he straightened himself.

"I ain't afraid to beat you to an inch of your life," you reply, standing upright.

"Do it then!"

"What?" He caught you off guard.

"Go on, do it! I know you hate me. Why not take out all that anger, huh? Enjoy the satisfaction of seeing me walk around for the next few weeks all roughed up, knowing you did it," Micah approaches you again. He tries to grab you but you manage to catch his wrist in time, holding it firmly. He doesn't pull away.

"Why are you so eager?"

"I wanna see what you're made of. I wanna see if men like you really can fight." That comment set you off. You let go of his wrist, dropped the gun to the floor, and planted a hard punch across his face.

Micah fell back to the ground with a large thud. He lies there for a second, one of his hands coming up to wipe at his face. Eventually, he looks up at you, still laying on the floor, his hat a few inches from him.

"Is that it?" Micah laughs. Ugh.

"I ain't here to.. do whatever this is," you reply as you begin to walk off. Micah grabs a hold of your ankle, making your blood boil.

"C'mon, I'm all defenseless. Just let all that anger out," he says as he pulls at your ankle.

"Fine!" You snap.

As quick as lightning, you kneel over him, your knees on either side of his hips. You grab him by the scruff of his shirt and start laying punches on him like there's no tomorrow. Micah takes it. You can hear him grunting with every hit you land, yet he doesn't fight back. His arms remain sprawled out by his sides, legs underneath you, making no effort to stop this.

What is with this man?! Why wasn't he fighting back?

There's blood everywhere, all over your shirt, fist, and his face. You stop, catching your breath. He was right, it felt amazing to let out all that anger. Micah's eyes are shut, one of them already swollen up, his nose and mouth covered in blood. He's panting too but somehow still conscious. Finally, he speaks.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Micah asks you as he opens his eyes.

"Feels good beatin' up a piece of shit like you, yeah," you admit.

"I ain't on about that," Micah replies. Micah rolls his hips, rubbing a rock-solid boner against your own. You hadn't realized that during your fight you'd let yourself sit on his lap, too distracted by smashing his skull in. Was it the friction that had made you hard? Or maybe the adrenaline?

"Eugh!" You yelp. You let go of his shirt, his head thudding back onto the ground.

Micah starts to laugh. He lets out that long, annoying laugh. The one he does when he knows he's right. It's so fake, it's sickly.

"You ain't moved off me tho, darlin'." He was right. You'd made no attempt to roll off him, no attempt to move your crotch away from his. "You enjoy this? You enjoy beatin' up big bad Micah Bell? Bet you're harder than a rock."

He was right. He was so right.

You weren't sure if this was a rush of adrenaline or a sick fetish you'd kept locked away for years, but he was damn right. You're not sure what to respond so you simply punch him again.

He laughs.

"You get off on this?" you snap at him, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt again.

"Yep," he blankly states.

Your eyes widen. He's making direct eye contact with you now, your face is red and inches away from his. He stank of whiskey and blood, his breathing still heavy.

"Can't help nature," Micah eventually states, breaking the silence.

You pause for a moment, taking it all in. You could either get up and walk away, hoping this would never occur or be mentioned, though you doubted that. Or use him, let your anger out whilst you finally get some cock. It had been months since you'd been laid and you were aching to get off. Maybe he'd noticed this? Maybe he'd peeked on you masturbating far too often? The second option sounded best; it was a win-win. Beat the fuck outta Micah whilst you use him for sexual pleasure, then threaten him and hope he never tells a soul about this.

"Go on, what you gonna pick, sweetheart? I can see you workin' this all out," Micah says, cutting off your train of thought.

"Alright, Mister Bell. You're gonna take this, you ain't gonna fight back. I'm gonna use you to get myself off. I'm gonna continue to beat the everloving fuck outta you. Then you're never gonna tell nobody about this. Alright?"

Micah doesn't reply, he just starts laughing again. Ugh! Of course, you punch him, again and again but he continues to laugh. So you give up and start choking him. He's caught off guard. His eyes widen as you wrap your hand around his throat, avoiding his windpipe and pushing on those soft spots under his jawline.

He's looking at you through bruised half-lidded eyes, his mouth slightly parted. His breathing is heavy, yet he's conscious enough to grasp your hips and start grinding up against you. What a sick man. You let go of his throat when you start to see his eyes shutting. He gasps for breath, smiling and grinding harder against you.

"I knew you were sick. I knew I was gonna have to push all your buttons in order to get something off you," Micah laughs. You punch him again.

"This a game for you?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Well, it's my turn to play now. Get your cock out and don't try anything," you order as you shuffle off him. You hear him chuckle as he begins to undo his belt.

You stand up to kick off one of your pant legs, leaving them and your undergarments around one ankle, one boot on the floor. You watch as Micah pulls out his cock and begins to stroke it, watching you undress. He's solid, his cock covered in veins and red at the tip. He's an average length and very girthy. Perfect. You climb on top of him. Thankfully and coincidentally, you had been playing with yourself earlier before going on guard duty, so you only needed a few moments and the small bottle of lube that you kept in your pocket for emergencies to get yourself ready.

You finally slide down onto him, letting out a moan through gritted teeth as he stretches you. You spend a moment sitting with his dick fully inside of you, letting yourself get used to it.

"Too big for you?" Micah teases. It gains him another punch across the jaw. That made his cock twitch. He chuckles for a moment but stops and rolls his head back the moment you start riding him.

You soon find a good pace, one of your hands gripping onto his shirt, the other placed beside his head. His eyes are shut and he's louder than you expected. He's moaning. Full-on moaning. He's loving every second of this. Loving the pleasure and the pain. His hands grip at your hips, encouraging you to bounce faster on him.

Micah lets out a particularly loud moan after you slam into him. You slap him this time, then firmly grasp at his throat.

"You wanna be caught?" you scold him. He doesn't respond verbally, but he grins. "God, you're so sick."

Micah attempts to laugh but you grip his throat tighter, making him yelp instead. He shuts his eyes and relaxes, enjoying that feeling of blood rushing around his brain as you choke him.

He tightens his grip on your waist, stopping you from riding him. He props his knees up, pushing you forward and begins bucking into you. Hard. His motion catches you off guard, making you yelp out in pleasure.

"Atta boy," he praises you once your hand comes off his throat to grip at the ground, keeping yourself somewhat upright.

One of his hands is around your waist, the other reaching down to firmly grasp at your ass, gripping onto it for dear life. It was only fair that he left some marks on you too.

He's fucking you good, far too good. You hate to admit it, but if you knew he was this good then you would have come onto him a long time ago. Your moans are getting ridiculously loud; Micah has quietened down, only letting out a few grunts, too focused on abusing your hole.

You had to be quiet. You really REALLY did not want to be found like this. Fucking Micah was already sinful, but fucking Micah when he's bruised and covered in his own blood? How were you meant to explain that?

You lay your chest against his, gripping his jaw as you tilt his head to the side. You bite down. Hard. Leaving your marks all over him. He's moaning again, a lot quieter this time.

"Claimin' me as your own, hm? Didn't know you wanted me that bad," Micah teases.

You didn't. You did not want this man, especially after the many comments he had made towards you and your sexuality. It's funny, isn't it? The homophobes are always the ones in denial. However, you knew you were going to get off to this in the future, the feral was Micah was fucking you. You knew you'd probably have Micah come find you whenever he's horny, and you knew that you'd probably go looking for him whenever you just wanted to let off some steam. It was a mutual agreement and you were surprisingly fine with it.

"Go on, cover me. I want eeeeeveryone in the camp to be questioning why I'm beat up but covered in hickeys," he grins, laughing, moving his neck across and encouraging you.

So you do.

Micah looks worse than he's ever been. The side of his neck is purple, bite marks all over it. His nose is probably broken, his eye's swollen, and there's damp blood all over his beard and parts of his shirt. Yet he continues to laugh and grin, encouraging you in between thrusts.

"Good boy. You're loving this, ain'tcha?"

You remain silent, but let out a yelp against his skin as he slams his cock harder than usual into you. Your hole begins to ache, well used. You were going to be sore for the next few days.

"I'm close, darlin'. God, I can't wait to fill that ass up with my cum."

"Is that so?" you ask as you prop yourself back up over him, your hands on either side of his head. You give him a swift slap to the cheek, your hand stinging afterward.

"Still got some life in ya? Go on, let it allll out. Why don-" You cut him off, pressing your hand firmly on his throat.

"Shut up and fuck me. God, you really do love the sound of your own voice," you order. Micah obliges and picks up his pace. You can tell he's close, and so are you. Your hand reaching down to tug at your own cock.

Finally, he finishes his high, pulling you down hard onto his cock as he spills inside of you. You jerk yourself off, following shortly after, your cum spilling over his already ruined shirt. You clench around his cock, making him yelp as you milk him for all he's worth. The two of you are panting, sweaty, bloody messes. Eventually, you roll off him, lying beside him as you catch your breath.

Micah is the first to move. He rolls onto his side and begins to kiss your kneck, his hand reaching down to gently jerk your already over-stimulated cock. You don't react at first, too worn out and sadly still loving the attention. His hand moves down from your cock, two fingers slipping onto your abused hole, catching you off guard as you let out a moan. You can feel his cum spilling out of you as he fucks you with his fingers.

"Love that feelin'," he says against your neck. Sicko. But you also enjoy it.

Your eyes suddenly open as you feel him bite down on his neck.

"Stop!" you yelp. "You're gonna give me a hickey. I don't want people seein' that."

And he somehow leaves one on you. Fuck.

He's chuckling as he pulls his fingers out of you, still propped up on his arm beside you.

"Everyones gonna know what's happened," he grins.

"They won't cause you said you ain't gonna tell anyone," you frown.

"I ain't. I'm a man of my word. But as dumb as these people are, they can put two and two together. Especially with those bloody knuckles of yours."

He was right. You didn't realize how bloody your knuckles were. They were blood red, yet you weren't sure if it was his blood, your blood, or just bruises starting to form. Either way, it ached and there was no way you could hide this. And now you had a hickey to match, perfect!

That piece of shit. This is what he wanted.

You huffed, getting up to wipe yourself down and put your clothes back on. You rush, hearing Micah laugh as he does the same, slowly standing up. You begin to walk away but Micah grabs at your arm, spinning you around.

"Where you goin' so fast?"

"Away from you."

"Why? We're matchin' now. Can't have you goin' anywhere without me." What a nightmare that'd be.

"This is a sexual agreement, Micah. I ain't your sweetheart," you reply as you pull away from his grasp.

"Oh? So you do wanna fuck me again?"

"...Yes."

[doitforstamets]

A fanfic..!

Edit: AO3 with more chapters!

Star Trek Discovery Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets Before Discovery General audiences / Not beta read

Paul sits in the dim hotel lobby, tapping on his thigh with one hand and mindlessly browsing a PADD with the other. There is text on the screen he doesn’t read, and pictures he glances over but doesn’t look at.

His heart jumps at an incoming message.

“Be there in 20 minutes”, Hugh writes.

Paul is frozen staring at the message pop up until it disappears. His hand stops the nervous tapping to grab the PADD from the glass table, and to write back.

“Can’t wait.”

And he really can’t. 20 minutes, still? Paul feels like he’s been waiting for weeks – and technically he has. But he’s only sat in the hotel lobby for a while, just long enough to finish a cup of coffee and go trough his presentation one more time, sloppily. Hardly a way in which he does anything, usually. He takes pride in being very particular about his work.

But not this weekend.

After an unexpected encounter on Alpha Centauri 6 weeks ago – Paul checks in his head, yes, it really has been 6 weeks since he met Hugh – they’ve only been in contact via video calls and messages. Not that it hadn’t been nice – it’s been very nice – Paul was starting to get impatient with not being close to Hugh, physically.

For a while, he had been afraid to say anything, in case Hugh felt differently. He had tried to focus on his work, only messaging Hugh once or twice a day compared to the earlier long daily conversations and calls.

He didn’t mean to get so lost in the research, but that’s just who he was. One day, he had forgotten to message Hugh completely. He had spent his entire day calculating and testing yet another idea for harnessing the potential of the spore drive. It didn’t work.

He returned to his apartment, overlooking the research station on Deneva, defeated and annoyed. He had frustratedly kicked off his shoes, thrown his jacket on the couch, rest of his clothes leaving a messy trail to the bathroom. He didn’t pay much attention to anything while showering. He’s pretty sure he had washed himself.

Stepping out of the bathroom to be met with the warm glow of the Denevian sunset, Paul sighed.

Instantly, there was a muffled vibration coming from somewhere near the entrance to his apartment.

Oh shit, Paul realized. He had not looked at his personal PADD all day.

Quickly making his way to the entrance, he tried to grab the jacket he wore today from the coat rack. It wasn’t there. He turned around, remembering throwing the jacket on the couch, only to realize the buzzing was coming from his feet.

Paul grabbed the PADD from the case on the floor, almost instinctively answered the video call, before realizing he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

Hastily, he grabbed the nearest shirt he could find, struggled while putting it on trying to simultaneously hold the PADD. He took a few steps to the couch and answered the call while flopping down on the couch.

Hugh’s face appeared on screen, his brows furrowed a bit, but his mouth turning into a faint smile at the sight of Paul.

“Hey,” Hugh greeted in a soft tone.

“Hi.”

“Where have you been?”

Paul had realized his mistake just moments before, and took a second to think of the answer, no matter how obvious it was.

“In the lab,” Paul answered sounding a little exhausted.

“Of course,” Hugh smiled. “Anything exiting?”

Paul sighed again, turning his gaze to look at the sunset taking its final breaths in the horizon.

“Not really. Another day spent with algorithms and experiments only to prove myself wrong.”

“Oh,” Hugh exhaled with an apologizing look. “That sucks.”

By now, Hugh knew better than to answer Paul’s disappointment with the previously tried encouraging facts, like “that’s part of the research. You’ll get there eventually.”

Instead, he had noticed, Paul took comfort in him just agreeing that sometimes his work was a pain in the ass.

Looking at the pale man on screen, direct sunlight hitting his face and hair, illuminating it even lighter and bouncing off his blue eyes with a beautiful glow, Hugh definitely agreed that right now, he would rather have Paul not so invested in his research. Maybe they could spend some time together, if it wasn’t for their distance and both of their demanding jobs.

Hugh sighed smiling, studying Paul’s white-appearing eyebrows, now furrowing a bit in a way that had become quite familiar to Hugh. Paul quickly turned back to face the screen.

“I don’t really want to think about it,” he huffs. “How was your day?”

“I missed you,” Hugh answers without hesitation.

Paul is taken aback by the honest statement. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you,” Paul murmurs, realizing there are at least a few notifications unread on his PADD from Hugh.

“I know. You were working.”

“Still. I could’ve at least messaged you,” Paul goes on to say, genuinely annoyed at himself for ignoring Hugh for a full day. He meant to keep his distance, but not this much.

“Yeah, you could’ve,” Hugh admits, flashing a grin that almost melts Paul.

Hugh is still in his white Starfleet uniform, although the jacket is open, revealing an undershirt with a far more giving neckline. Paul tries not to stare.

“But I had a busy day too,” Hugh continues. “I have time now.”

“Good,” Paul smiles, although he’s a tiny bit uncomfortable remembering that he isn’t wearing any pants.

“You’re home?” Paul asks an obvious question. He’s seen enough glimpses of Hugh’s quarters to recognize it.

“Well,” Hugh looks a little surprised. “I guess.”

Paul raises an eyebrow as in asking Hugh to elaborate.

“It still doesn’t feel very... homey.”

Hugh had lived in these quarters on this starbase for about six months now. He’d gotten used to it, and felt physically comfortable where he was, but he had never referenced to it as “home”. Maybe because he spent so much time on duty outside the starbase.

“I get that,” Paul answered. He in turn had lived in this apartment for almost 6 years. It was a place to sleep, eat and shower, above anything else. If there was a place he’d consider home, it would be the garden in the lab.

Both men startle slightly, as Paul’s PADD receives a message. Paul furrows his brows and purses his lips, opening the message. Hugh recognises the look from previous calls, often followed with an apologetic Paul having to head back to the lab.

Paul groans at the message in frustration. He places the PADD on the coffee table, disappearing from the screen.

“What is it?” Hugh asks while grabbing something off the screen himself. Might as well fill some reports if Paul must head back to work.

“Umm,” Paul huffs from outside the screen. “It’s Straal.” He reappears wearing grey collage pants and scuffing his damp blonde hair with a towel.

“Back to work?” Hugh asks with a tender smile.

“No... Well, not right now,” Paul answers, reading the message again. He scoffs. “He’s bailing on me for a conference next weekend.”

There’s an annoyed look on the man’s face, as he dismisses the message and leans back on the couch, defeated.

“Fucking Straal,” he hisses, just audibly for Hugh to hear. He chuckles to himself, trying to hide a smile.

“Where is it?” Hugh asks, apparently while writing some notes on another device in front of him.

“Betazed.” Ugh. That’s far.

“Really?” Hugh raises his brows and opens a new tap on his PADD with a swift touch. Betazed is closer than Deneva, that’s for sure.

“I’m so tired of having to act like an idiot at these things,” Paul starts ranting. Hugh nods, but is still flicking trough tabs on his device to look at something else.

“I don’t know anyone, or even if I did, I don’t care enough to remember them. Most people don’t actually care about the research and are there just for the show and... gossip,” Paul huffs. “Who goes to a science conference for gossip?”

Hugh glances at Paul and gives a small chuckle. He’s reminded of what often goes on during Starfleet Medical personnel seminars, after and in between the lectures...

“I know some people,” Hugh laughs. He’s dug up a file listing his work shifts, displayed in thick boxes of multiple colors for multiple sites and types of shifts. He scrolls down to next week.

“It’s obnoxious. Would be fine if it was just the presentations, but there’s always some afterparty you’re expected to attend if you’re to actually make connections and get sponsors. Escapes me how my social presence has anything to do with the research...” Paul rants on.

They’ve had this conversation before, a few weeks ago, when Paul was getting ready for another one of his trips across the galaxy to present his genius research to much less interested audiences. It was clear Paul wasn’t much of a people’s person. He was a convincing speaker, though. Hugh had been intrigued from the first moment he saw Paul give his presentation. Intense, captivating and so excited about his own work, it was hard not to be. Or so Hugh had thought. Apparently, he was in the minority.

“Why does Justin just get to inform me he’s not coming. I better be in a hospital if I were to skip one of these things."

Hugh looks at Paul on the screen, his face now more frustrated than annoyed.

“Please don’t hurt yourself for that,” Hugh kids. Although there’s a slight chance Paul actually might be that stupid, he admits.

Paul smiles back at him softly. A moment passes in silence, before Hugh continues.

“You know... I have vacation days saved up. I’ve always wanted to visit Betazed.”

________

GAHH. I have not written fanfiction in years..! Please be gentle, I know I also change the tense halfway trough, sorryyy. But also, this needs a name I guess?

[angelsswirl]

Been Through

Chapter 4: Must be confused about me

Get ya, get ya, get ya shit together. Girl, I got 20/20 vision, and that's the reason I'ma keep my distance.

"I'm on my way to work now. Just dropped Lily off at preschool......Yes, Mom. I vetted the school extensively. She was on the waiting list since she was 2, so it better be worth it.....Okay. I have to go. Yes....I love you too."

You sighed heavily as you removed the phone from your ear.

Your mother, bless her heart, had a affinity for calling you at inopportune times, such as this one.

You were running late for a meeting. You don't like to blame your problems on your daughter, but this one was definitely her fault. After only two and half hours she had gotten attached to both Lisa and Jennie (you wish she would have just picked one and made this easier for you) and proceeded to have a mental breakdown when they eventually had to leave.

That mental break had caused the both of you to lose sleep, which meant you slept right through your alarm, causing Lily to be late for the one day a week that she went to preschool, and making you late for work.

And you hated being late for anything.

So, This was all your daughter's fault.

"Howdy, Boss." Your assistant, Max, greeted you as you trudged into your office. He handed you a warm cup of coffee. You took a sip, letting out a satisfied noise.

"Thanks, Max. I needed this."

He smiled, happy to be of service, "No problem, Boss."

You rolled your eyes, "Didn't I tell you to stop calling me 'Boss'? I'm a publisher who works for a publishing firm, I'm not the owner of this building. I don't sign your checks. That's the boss."

Max just shrugged happily. The beta was always infuriatingly happy.

"And stop saying 'howdy'. It makes me upset."

"You got it, Bos-Mrs. Y/LN."

You sat at your desk with another eye roll, "Maxwell. You know I'm not married. Just call me Y/N."

"But-"

"Aht! Call me Y/N."

You glared at the poor boy until he nodded back. You could feel a migraine sneaking up the back of your skull. After mumbling something unladylike in Korean, you set about turning on your computer.

"So, what's on the agenda today, Max-a-million?"

The twenty year old perked up at the question. The weirdo loved organizing and things of the sort. You're pretty sure his favorite part of the work day was when you asked him what you were supposed to be doing.

"Today is Tuesday. You've got a meeting with the boss in twenty minutes. Then, you have a manuscript in your email that I forwarded you. It needs to be approved by lunch. And by then it will be time to pick up Lily, and you can leave for the day."

You nodded slowly, "If a full manuscript needs to be approved in three hours why did you just now send it to me today?"

Max gulped, you watched his Adam's apple bobble in his throat. You felt bad at the look of pure fear on his face.

"I um...I'm sorry. It was only sent to me this morning. I was told that you already knew about it."

You wracked your brain for any mention of a manuscript approval by absolutely anyone you had ever had a conversation with.

You turned to Max, the headache was shifting forward towards your eyes, "No one told me anything. Ugh! Fine. I'll just have to skim. You can go back to your desk. Thanks, Maximus."

The boy scurried out of your office.

You sighed, then opened your email to locate the manuscript.

It was the last email you had been sent, you hurried to click it open and download it onto your computer.

It looked like a normal manuscript. No frilly font. No decorative cover. Just bare and unblemished. Just how you liked it.

Rosès Are Pink

Though, it had an absolutely shit title. That was an easy fix as long as the author didn't get attached.

Speaking of the author. You could tell it was a pen name. C.R. Park. There was no telling who that could be. But if you approved this manuscript then you'd probably be getting to know them a whole lot more.

You read the first line and frowned. Then you read the next. And the next. And the next. And soon your were through the first five chapters. The frown soon turned into an angry glare.

You dug into your cardigan pocket for your phone. You pulled it out and dialed a increasingly familiar number.

"Hel-"

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"Good morning to you too, Y/N. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE WRITING A BOOK?!"

"I didn't think I needed to?"

"Of course you fucking needed to. I'M IN IT."

"How do you even know that?"

"YOU FUCKING SENT IT TO ME!"

"You can stop yelling now."

"Boss? Are you okay?"

"GET. OUT. MAXIMUM."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I would like to reiterate that I didn't send anything to you. My managers probably did."

"What's the difference? You know I'm a publisher. I was bound to hear of it eventually." You wiped a frustrated hand down your face.

"What's the big deal, Y/N? Did you even read the manuscript?"

"Not all of it."

"Did you like it?"

"Chae, it's magnificent."

"So, what's the problem?

A heavy sigh left your mouth, and with it, your shoulders sag, "I-do you really want to put all of BP's business out there like that?" 'Do you really want to put all of BP's business with me out there like that' is what was really being asked.

"Yeah. The girls and I talked about it for weeks. The group is slowing down and we haven't liked the idea of lying by omission to our fans for awhile now. And I like to write. You don't have to worry anymore. " You could practically hear Chaeyoung's shrug.

"Okay. If you're sure. I hate the title."

Chaeyoung giggled, "So does Lisa. I'll let you fix it. Besides, it's not finished yet."

"You sent me an unfinished manuscript?"

"It doesn't have its happy ending yet."

"And what will that be?"

Chaeyoung paused for a second, "...You tell me."

~~~

"Mommy!" Lily bounded into your arms as soon as she saw you.

You brushed the brunette locks from her eyes and kissed her on the forehead, "Hello, my beautiful baby girl. How was your day today?"

"Good. Miss Taylor let us paint." She bounced in your arms, a semi damp peice of paper in her hands that she wouldn't let you see.

"That sounds like fun. What did you paint?"

"Families."

"Oh?"

"We see Lisa and Jennie today?"

I hope not.

"Not today, sweetheart."

"Oh."

You thought back to the previous day. Lisa was bonding with your kid while you were making out with Jennie on your bed....yep, sounds like you. You had been fine with that turn of events until you stopped kissing Jennie. Well, she stopped kissing you.

She stopped kissing you like she had suddenly remembered she left the stove on at home. You shared a very weird look before she pretty much ran out of your room like a terrified puppy. Or probably, more accurately, someone who just realized they made a mistake.

So, yeah. Now, you weren't so fine with the kiss and you could deal without seeing either of them for a good month.

"Mommy? Why don't I have a daddy or other mommy like the other kids?"

Your kid is trying to kill you. Hmm. What an ironic way to go out.

"Sometimes, kids only have one daddy, or one mommy. Some don't have either at all. But that doesn't make them different or any less special."

"Oh. Okay, " Lily laid her head down softly on your chest. "But I want another mommy. I don't like daddies."

"And you're absolutely valid for that. Mommy doesn't like daddies either."

"I want Jennie or Lisa to be my other mommy."

You had been so close to dodging the fattest bullet in parenting history, but no, your kid really did want you dead.

"We'll see, Dancing Queen. We'll see."

[transbibennyweir]

I love mbav so much it’s one of my favorite shows ever and I’m still so upset over the cliffhanger ending but on a side note Benny weir was definitely my number one favorite character but that might be due to the fact that I have a crush on him and in real life too anyway though I will say bethan is definitely my otp favorite pairing from the show as well and I was so upset they didn’t end together in the end but I was wondering if you would consider making Bethan fanfiction for this month?

duuude i feel the same way i love the show and even me who isn’t really into shipping can’t argue that those two had some real chemistry going on. that cliffhanger ending will always suck but at least we got fanfic to cope and pretend it didnt happen lol but yeah i’ve been writing two or three (really) short fics. the requests are mostly bethan so lucky you! i just put a new i did under the cut. its short and smiple and not too over the top shippy. its still good i think but the next bethan fic i want write to be super over the top shippy for fun with fluff (and angst with comfort ofc) (also this is on ao3)

The Valentine Dance at school was only a week away and Benny had the less than amazing plan to confess some long time dwelling feelings, and if he was lucky score a date to the dance. Although, he was lacking in any confidence seeing as he was never the best with plans and had the worst luck with... Well with everything if he was honest. Ethan was more the plan guy. Which was a total problem when Ethan is who the confession was for. Benny debated for half the school day if he should ask anyone for help, it became pretty obvious that they wouldn’t be that helpful. Rory can’t keep a secret to save his undead life, Erica isn’t much of the romantic type (ignoring that she wouldn’t want help at all in the first place), and Sarah... Actually Sarah might be the only one that would be any real help. That’s if she wanted to help. After what happened Freshman year with Ethan pinning for her and the eventual coming out from Sarah that she didn’t like guys it was sometimes amazing they could still be friends without one of them dying of awkwardness. If anything it was more awkward to ask for help from your current crush’s ex-crush, but Benny was out of options.

“Hey Sarah!” Benny greeted on his phone, his leg bouncing as he sat nervously on his bed. He had decided that he would try talk to her after school, partly hoping he would talk himself out of doing any of this. “I kinda need your help for something important. How quick do you think you could be at my place tonight? Sarah? Sarah!”

When there wasn’t a reply Benny repeated her name wondering what happened followed with a moment of silence and a sudden swiping sound of gusting wind through his phone then a whoosh out in front of his bedroom window. Vampire speed, always handy. “This quick enough for you?” Sarah giggled. Between last year to now Sarah was a lot more playful about her vampire-ness, much to the amusement of Benny.

“Knew I could count on you, Sar!” He grinned at her.

“As always. So, what’s this super important thing you needed my help in the middle of a school night?” She asked, jumping onto his bed with a weightless thump. “Is it a magic problem or just your special brand of weirdness for tonight?”

“Ha! Very funny. I mean it. It’s serious. There’s the dance coming up and I need your help scoring with-” Benny was cut off by Sarah abruptly standing up with a squeaked out “What!”

“Benny! I thought you said this was serious. I rushed over here for you thinking ugh-I can’t believe you! I am not helping you with ‘score’ with some random-”

“It’s Ethan.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah....”

“Benny, I am really sorry.”

There was an awkward silence that made Benny want rip his insides out which was a total confidence booster. “Nah, no, it’s fine. I shouldn’t have been so ‘Benny’ about it. My fault.” Benny’s voice sounded worn and hoarse. Sarah wrapped her arms around Benny to comfort him, sitting back on his bed they stayed quite, Benny taking steading breathes. “I know it’s been a summer since he got over you, but I dunno we’ve always been friends and really close. Confident Benny wants say there’s a chance he’s into me, but Nervous Benny says everything I think has been a sign is just me getting way too hopeful and I’m just,” Benny sighed leaning into Sarah’s hug. “Really tired dancing around how I feel all the time.”

“Awe, Benny,” Sarah settled into her place on the bed facing her favorite spell-caster. “Okay. I’ll help you. What’s the plan?” Benny sheepishly smiled and raised his shoulders.

“I was kinda hoping you could come up with something. I’m more of a plan follower than a plan maker. My ideas tend to lead to the actual problem that needs fixing.” He laughed nervously.

“I think I can come up with something. You still know that flower spell, right?” They grinned at each other.

“Of course.”

+++

The school dance was now only four days away and Sarah’s plan was simple and more importantly fool-proof. Which is what Benny was counting on.

“So, all you need to do is talk to him. Take him to the park. Whoa him with some magic, some flowers and then boom! Ask him to the dance. Simple and sups romantic.” Sarah said as they walked outside to see Ethan and their friends waiting for them in the school parking lot. “Think you can manage?”

Benny waved at them nervously. “I’m totally going mess this up.”

“Ben, it’s literally the most straightforward plan on the planet. There’s no way for you to mess it up. Just be your usual funny and charming self, it’s what he loves most about you.” Sarah smiled reassuring. Reaching their friends Benny tried not act anymore strange than his typical self, which was hard when Benny’s go to was being strange. It came with the magic powers and general teenage boy awkwardness. Erica was pushing Rory back onto the ground as he tried to float above her head saying there was something in her hair, there wasn’t, really he just wanted steal her hair pin that he was obsessed with.

“Come on, Erica!” Rory teased picking at the clip.

“Rory, if you don’t stop I’m going drive a stake through your un-dead heart!” She threatened as Ethan laughed before turning his attention to Benny and Sarah.

“Hey, Sarah, Ben.” He smiled sweetly, his eyes glancing at Benny with a sheepish blush. Although the boy in question was too busy freaking out internally to notice. “We still on for movie night?”

“Oh right!” Sarah said suddenly with a false quickness. “I totally forgot that’s tonight. Me and the vamps have some Vampire Council business and such. Y’know, vampires only. Heh.” She lied poorly but Ethan was just a little too slow to catch on.

“We do?” The two other vampires said holding off on their mini fight over a hair clip, Erica holding onto both Rory’s wrists in opposing directions. Erica watched the panic in Sarah and Benny’s eyes that said all she needed to know; ‘please just pay along’ written all over their faces. “Oooh. Yes-yeah. We do. Totally. No humans allowed or they will eat your face off. We’re doing a... vampire... ritual.... Yeah.”

“We do that? Awesome!” Rory said suddenly excited if not a little confused. “Why didn’t they tell me anything? Do you guys have their number or something because if so I feel it’s unfair that I don’t-”

“Rory, not right now.” Erica pulled her hair clip out of Rory’s hand, annoyed. “We should get going. Don’t want be late for the... ritual. Right, Sarah?”

“Right! Yeah, we really need get going. Super speed can only be so quick. Let’s go.” Sarah chuckled, pushing two of her friends away from Ethan and Benny. “We’ll see you later!” The three vamps speeded off, the other two waving them bye. The school parking lot was empty by then, Ethan’s full attention placed fully on Benny who felt the crushing weight of his friend’s eyes on him as he always did when they were alone. It was easy to play off any pining feelings when they hung out, their friendship had always been enough for Benny. Even when he had see Ethan longing after a different person, it was hard sometimes, but Benny could always push down any budding jealously or unsettling sadness. Ethan would always be his friend and now if he was lucky he could put boy in front of friend. The thought making his cheeks warm and his heart fast.

“Soo, movie night?” Ethan asked, they started their walk home only instead Benny had planned to take a subtle left turn towards the park the spell for appearing flowers repeating in his head.

“Actually I was thinking we could, uh, go for a walk... to the park?” Benny flinched with the odd expectation that his friend would suddenly reject him right there and then. “I have something I want show you, I dunno. Is that dumb? I feel dumb.”

“Benny. It’s cool. Come on, I kinda wanted tell you something anyways.” Ethan replied with a smile, his hand close to gracing against the taller boy’s. The near touch drawing them closer to each other, they’ve always gravitated towards one another with a strange pull that was always between them. Benny wondered if Ethan ever felt it, if he could ever see how Benny looked at him with such love and care. Maybe his seer powers let him see it more clearly than Benny felt it, lucky him Ethan still didn’t fully know how mind read yet.

The start of their walk was mostly silent, the longer the quite went for the more Benny’s internal freak out grew into full blown panic. He was seriously reconsidering saying anything at this point. Half way to the park and they hadn’t said a single word to each other, a first for their friendship. Ethan was biting his lower lip clearly lost in deep thought, Benny was too nervous to speak and break into whatever was going through the shorter boy’s head.

“Ben... Benny, heh, uh, I’ve been wanting to say this for awhile and I didn’t know how and I know you’re you know... You.” Ethan started. None of his words were comforting to Benny right now. “Wait-wait. That came out weird. I just wanted say when we came out to each other last summer. I know I acted really weird afterwards and it was totally uncool of me and I know I should’ve said sorry forever ago, but I’m real sorry, Ben. It was lame of me and I only acted like that because there some feelings I didn’t think I was ready to think about and now it’s like my brain is stuck thinking them but I don’t want things weird so, uh, am I making any sense?”

Benny didn’t know if he should laugh or cry, he went with the former and abruptly began to giggle in a almost soft of manic way. The sudden out bust of laugher worried Ethan. “Why are you laughing? Benny, I’m being serious. Come on, dude.”

“Sorry, dude. It’s just, you really scared me there for a second, E. I know it was a weird shift it’s totally fine. I was never mad.” Benny said, his laughter subsiding. Although he took note of the last bit, he didn’t want feel like he was reading too much into it but it couldn’t nothing, right?

They reached the park a few yards off where there was a bench was waiting for them. The lump in Benny’s throat was starting appear and it was getting too late for him to choke and bail on this whole thing. “Let’s go sit on the bench. It’s my turn to ramble and make barely any sense.”

“So nothing new.” Ethan teased. Ben wrapped his arm around Ethan’s neck and ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, yeah. Just sit down, okay?” Benny sat down with a nervous smile and his leg bouncing with a quick uneasy pace. “On the topic of us not being the straightest lightsabers in the bunch. Heh. There’s the dance coming up and I didn’t want go alone and there’s this person I wanted ask-”

“Really?” Ethan butted in with a sad look making something clink in Benny’s head. “That’s... great. What’s he like?”

“Oh you know, he’s really cool and mega smart and like, the biggest dork in the whole world.” Benny was grinning now, biting his lower lip to fight back his nervous joy. Maybe it was petty but if he was understanding right then making Ethan jealous for two minutes would make up for last year’s Sarah obsession.

“Oh. Uh. He sounds really cool. I’m glad you like him so much. So, what’s the plan to ask him out?” Ethan asked, his mood becoming more downcast suddenly. E, you pretty idiot. Well, just a bit of teasing fun wouldn’t hurt.

“Mhm. Yeah, he’s really great. I was thinking of asking him after school, y’know, surprise him with some flowers use a little magic to make sure their his favorite. Like this,” Benny made a quick glance to make sure no one was looking before making a bouquet of flowers appear. It had been the first simple trick that Benny had ever show Ethan. It started as a cheesy way to impress girls now it was becoming a cheesy way to impress his Ethan. The flowers matched the color scheme of Ethan’s favorite Star Wars character, right down to matching the center one with the character’s lightsaber.

Ethan stared at the flowers with a shy sadness. “Oh? Then what? Explain to him vampires are real next? I’m sure that one will go over real great, Bens.”

“Maybe. I think he’d be freaked out at first, probably less than he should be but grow to think it was way kick ass. I think he’d do pretty awesome fighting some bloodsuckers. Bet he looks really hot staking one out. The same way I think he looks really hot when he plays video games and starts losing and sits on my lap-which is totally cheating by the way, but I let it slide because again total cutie. I want ask him to the dance, maybe after we could sneak out and-”

“Jeez, Benny. Stop it, okay. I get it.” Ethan stood up from his seat, covering his ears. “You must really like him. What’s his name?”

“Oh, I dunno it’s something like Ian? Eric? Wait! No, I remember it’s Ethan Morgan the dumbest yet prettiest boy in town. Only second to yours truly.” Benny grinned gaining more of a cool confidence as he saw the way Ethan’s blush grew dark across his face.

“Oh.”

“Yeah ‘oh’ you dope! Who else could I have ever been talking about?! Han Solo?”

“First of all, I don’t know! And second, Han was totally gay for Luke but that’s for a different time.” Ethan said, glancing as an older couple walked past them.

“Wait, were you jealous? Like actually?”

“What! No way, I was not.” Ethan’s blush creeped up to his ears. “And anyways, it was totally not cool of you-”

“Then we’re even. Fair?” Benny leaned closer to Ethan, the flowers disappearing from between them. “Were the flowers too gay?”

Ethan leaned closer and bit his lip. “Bens, I don’t know how break this to you, but you’re like the gayest person in town.”

“Second to you.” He laughed before Ethan closed the gap between their lips catching him off guard. The small doubt that lingered in the back of his mind was put at ease as their lips fit together. “Sorry. I was really hoping I didn’t mess this up.” Benny tried not to giggle.

“Lucky you, your bad gay jokes and charm is what got me hooked on you in the first place.”

“Yeah, guess I am a catch. So... We’re on for the dance?”

“Yeah.” Ethan smiled holding Benny’s hands. “Yeah, Bens. We are.” They grinned at each other, hands clasped together and knees touching.

[jj-lives]

Wild Inktober - Bmblb

Okay... i may have had a hard time with this word prompt. I was trying to play with Yang acting wild and Blake appearing so. But when writing it kinda took another route... oops. Oh well.enjoy!!!

————————————————————————————————

For some reason, even though Pyrrha had been her best friend for two years, Yang rarely hung out with her friend group. From what Yang had heard none of them took the physical education route that they had. This meant Yang never had a single class with any of them so no reason to socialize with them; other than them being her closest confidante’s best friends.

Which was why when Pyrrha started begging her to come along she couldn’t, in good conscience, refuse. Parties were never really Yang’s chosen scene, though the last one she’d been to was in highschool. She was all for trying new things and from what she’d garnered the boy Pyrrha was crushing on would be here. After the amount of time Pyrrha spent listening to Yang’s problems; well the least she could do was show up and see if she could help her friend out.

Pyrrha met her down the street from the party as Yang refused to leave her bike anywhere near the drunken crowd.

“I’m so glad you came!” Pyrrha spoke once Yang cut the engine.

“Did you honestly think I would bail?”

“The thought did cross my mind.” She admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously.

It was a side of her friend Yang was unfamiliar with. To see Pyrrha anything but confident and sure of herself didn’t make sense. She always held the answers, always knew what to say and what to do. She must really be hung up on this guy to have lost all her poise.

“Well look at you!” Yang exclaimed, taking a stop back to look her friend up and down. “You’re hot.”

Pyrrha blushed as she swatted at Yang’s arm.

“Alright, that’s enough.’ She laughed but Yang was glad to see she was standing tall once more.

Making a mental note to keep an eye on her, they walked the couple blocks to the party discussing their Physiology projects. A redhead called Pyrrha’s name as they neared the apartment building designated to house this weekend's festivities. Behind the girl stood a man with a pink highlight dyed into his black hair. Yang recognized the two immediately as Pyrrha’s friends; Nora and Ren.

Nora reminded Yang of a stronger, more hyperactive version of a member of the highschool gang she used to hang out with. Both were in your face with their excitement, but where one always came off as kind of superficial Yang didn’t mind Nora as much. She was loud, but at least she seemed to be good for a laugh. Her boyfriend was the exact opposite. Ren rarely spoke but always seemed to be enjoying himself. Yang took the pair as a more go with the flow types.

“Are you two ready for the party of the century?” Nora asked excitedly, bouncing on the spot.

Ren placed a firm hand on her shoulder and she soon quieted to a barely noticeable vibration.

“This is a the only thing she’s talked about all day.” Ren said with a shake of his head.

“Let’s get in there then.” Pyrrha suggested. “Before she breaks free and goes without us.

Yang laughed but soon realized no one else was joining her.

“She thought you were joking?” Ren asked Pyrrha.

“Well she doesn’t know Nora like we-“ Pyrrha turned from Ren to look at through the growing crowds. “Where did she go?”

“Oh no.” Ren sighed, jogging to the apartment’s front door he slipped between some students coming out.

“You were not kidding.”

“Nope.” Pyrrha laughed. “Ren will find her. I’m sure we’ll meet up later.”

“This happens often?” Yang questioned as they squeezed through the packed entrance themselves.

“More than you would think. For someone normally so loud, Nora is able to sneak away without being noticed a lot.”

They grabbed some drinks from the first room they came to on their left.

“Each floor will have a room with drinks and the rec areas of each floor all have a different theme.” The preppy girl behind the drinks table explained. “Have fun.”

“This is a little more organized than I’d imagined.” Yang mentioned as they entered the first floor rec room.

“I’ve been to a few. Some weekends it's a free-for-all but some buildings actually put effort into their planning. I tend to enjoy these ones. They attract less police.”

For several minutes Yang followed Pyrrha in and out of several rooms and up flights of stairs. When they reached the third floor Pyrrha stopped so suddenly Yang nearly spilled her drink down the back of her green shirt. She would have felt horrible if she had. It was obvious Pyrrha put a lot of effort into her look tonight. Her hair was down instead of up in its usual ponytail, but she’d taken the time to curl the usually straight locks to frame her face perfectly. Yang would never forgive herself if she ruined her friend’s outfit tonight.

“What’s up?” She asked, stepping around to stand beside Pyrrha. “Why did you stop?”

“It’s him.” Pyrrha breathed, pointing to a blonde guy across the room. He was playing pool with three others. He was decent looking, Yang would give him that, but knowing Pyrrha wouldn’t have it so bad just for looks he must have some other redeeming qualities. “What do I do?”

“Go talk to him?”

“Yang, that’s not-“ she stopped talking to down the rest of her drink. “I need another drink. Let’s go.”

Yang was pulled back into a crowded hall, through a crammed doorway and her still half full glass was replaced with a full one before she could protest.

“Hey, slow down.” Yang pulled at Pyrrha’s wrist to stop her chugging the second drink as fast as the first. “Let’s just go back in there and sit down for a minute, okay?”

“I can’t with him in there.”

“You have spoken to this guy, haven’t you?” Yang asked for clarification. She couldn’t help if she was walking in blind.

“Don’t be silly. Of course I have.” She finally allowed Yang to guide her back to the open rec room and allowed herself to be sat in view of her crush. “But that was in classes, and we spoke almost solely regarding projects and tests.”

“Then how do you know you like him if you haven’t had an actual conversation with him?”

“How did you know you liked this mystery girl I’ve yet to meet?”

Yang’s jaw went slack.

“You made your point.”

“It’s just the way Jaune carries himself, and the conversations I’ve overheard him having with his friends.” Pyrrha admitted. “It may make me a stalker but I just like him. Okay?”

“I got you!” Yang pulled her into a quick one armed hug before leaning back to observe what she had at her disposal. “We are going to get you that one on one tonight.

Pyrrha blanched, speaking up to dissuade Yang from making any plans.

“I love you, girl. This is why you wanted me to come. Isn’t it?”

Pyrrha sighed, resigning to her fate. “Maybe. I don’t know. But I wanted you to socialize more as well.”

“You had ulterior motives?” It pulled a smile from Yang as she elbowed Pyrrha playfully. “Well thanks. I guess I have been kind of a hermit lately.”

“Lately?” Pyrrha’s voice was high with surprise. “Try always.”

“You may want to be nicer to the girl working to get you and Prince Charming time alone.”

“If you accomplish that I will forever be in your debt.”

It was clear Pyrrha didn’t think the odds of Yang succeeding were very high. But Yang loved a challenge. Step one was getting said guy away from his friends, but as she watched she realized that was going to be harder than she first anticipated. They were worse than a group of chicks. Jaune never seemed to be alone. Wherever he went someone else tended to follow.

One thing became clear the longer Yang observed. Jaune was definitely looking their way more often than anywhere else. Perhaps this wasn’t such a one sided attraction as Pyrrha thought.

Taking a break from pool Jaune and one of his other friends broke off from the group and made their way to sit at one of the tables along the far wall. But something else caught Yang’s attention as they moved. A familiar form sat alone, curled up in a chair in the corner of the room.

“Blake,” the name dropped from her lips.

“Where?” Pyrrha leaned forward, eager to see this girl that had been all Yang could think or talk about for weeks.

“In the corner, but don’t make it obvious you’re looking.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” Pyrrha laughed. “Is she reading a book? At a party?”

“I didn’t take parties as her kind of scene.” Yang couldn’t believe it. This was the absolute last place she thought she would run into Blake.

“You should go talk to her.” She nudged slightly out of her seat and for a split second she entertained the idea, but she was here for Pyrrha not herself. First things first.

“I find your advice hypocritical when you won’t follow it yourself.” Yang stood and stretched. She never was the type for staying in one way for too long. “I’ll be right back.”

Pyrrha protested being left alone but did as she was asked. Yang hurried to get two more drinks. She had hoped her leaving would give Jaune the chance to approach Pyrrha but it seemed he was being just as stubborn as her friend. Trusting her instincts she strolled past Pyrrha and came to sit at the table Jaune and his friend were occupying. Pushing both drinks below Jaune’s nose she tested him by smiling at him.

He reacted just as she thought, staring blankly at her, though seemingly a little confused at her abrupt entrance into his personal space. His friend on the other hand did the opposite.

“Hey, babe. Do-“

Raising a hand she cut him off.

“I’m not here for you.” Yang leaned back and folded her arms across her chest. She never took her eyes off the boy across from her. “You know my friend, Pyrrha?”

“Yeah,” he coughed, a blush forming across the bridge of his nose. This was perfect. “We had a few classes together. She’s great! And smart. She-“

“Ugh,” Yang made a face, turning towards the blond guy next to her. “Is he always like this?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” Jaune’s friend shook his head in disgust. “He is hopeless, but even more so with that chick.”

“Don’t call her that. She has a name.” Jaune defended.

“Well those drinks are for you and her.” Yang nodded to the two cups she placed down. “So can you go talk to her please. I hate seeing her alone.”

“I-I-I wouldn’t… I mean, what would I say?” Jaune stumbled on his words.

“I would start with hello, myself.” Yang looked over to Pyrrha, who was trying her hardest not to make it look like all her attention was taken up by their little interaction. “She got all dolled up tonight. You don’t honestly think she’s going to be able to sit there very long without another guy gaining the confidence to speak to her. Do you?”

With a new determination Jaune grabbed both cups and made his way across the room. The smile Pyrrha shot her way as Jaune sat across from her was all the payment she needed.

“The name’s Sun-“

“Nope.” Yang stood, leaving the other to drag himself back to his group of friends.

She made her way to the corner Blake still claimed. As she neared, Yang noticed most students were giving the area a wide berth as they maneuvered around the different games tables. It was easy to see why when anyone who got within three feet of Blake received a deadly glare for their intrusion.

Yang was not looking to upset Blake, especially since their last run in didn’t end on a positive note. But she wanted to stick around for a bit in case Pyrrha changed her mind and needed an escape. She sat in a chair near enough to Blake that she could strike up a conversation but angled the direction of her friend.

“Were you going to say hello?” Blake voiced after several minutes passed.

“I thought about it.” Yang answered, eyes still glued on the back of Jaune’s head. He turned to catch her eye, having felt her stare. Good at least now he knew to behave.

“Decided against it?”

“You seemed preoccupied with your book.” Yang explained, finally tearing her eyes from the new couple to look at Blake. “Besides I wasn’t in a hurry to be on the receiving end of one of those glares I saw you giving everyone.”

“If you saw that, I wonder why you decided to approach in the first place.”

“Because I live on the wild side?” Yang figured faking some confidence couldn’t be a bad thing. Her heart was hammering in her chest and her mouth was going dry with nerves but something drew her to keep talking. To keep Blake talking. “Why are you at a party if you aren’t going to partake?”

“You forget?” Blake’s incredulous tone reached her ears. “This is my apartment and my room has so graciously been volunteered as a coat room.”

“Oh,” Yang became flustered that she’d not recognized the building. “I didn’t notice the address. I met Pyrrha down the street and we walked here. I am sorry you’re being put out like this though.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sure Weiss or even Ruby and I could have let you stay over had we known your place was being confiscated.”

Blake closed the book and set it in her lap.

“They knew, and offered.”

“Oh.”

Why was she so hard to talk to? It was normally easy for Yang to start up meaningless conversations with people. But maybe that was the issue. She didn’t want to have a meaningless anything with the girl she was sitting next to.

“How is Rosco?”

Blake smiled at the reminder of her dog.

“He is good. Back home with Mom and Dad.”

“I’m sure he misses you.” Yang returned the smile but Blake’s disappeared at her words.

“Why would you say that?” She questioned.

“Because it’s true.”

Yang could have come out with any cheesy line about anyone missing a face as pretty as Blake’s, but she didn’t think Blake was the kind to appreciate that kind of forwardness; at least not from someone she barely knew.

“And your classes are all going well?”

“Yes.” Blake sneered. “Why are you suddenly so interested in my life.”

“I’ve always been interested,” was her honest reply.

Blake opened her book and began reading once more. It certainly looked like she wanted nothing to do with her, but something nagged at the back of her mind. There were times Blake seemed more than happy to entertain her. In the mall and the short interaction when they’d collided on the street. And she never ignored her when Yang spoke up when Ruby and Weiss were with them. There were times Blake was willing to open up, but others it seemed she was not just a closed book, but a locked one.

And Yang couldn’t help but wonder why.

“You invited me running, did you not?”

“You don’t give up do you?” Blake responded, throwing the book on the small table between them. “Most people would get the hint I want to be alone. Why don’t you?”

Yang shrugged.

“Because, sometimes what’s shown to others is just a mask. And it’s got to be lonely keeping people at arm's length all the time. Right?”

Blake studied her for several moments but before either could continue the conversation there were police sirens ringing out on the street. Blue flashing lights came in the upper windows and there was a shout for everyone to leave.

Pyrrha’s frantic eyes found her and Yang nodded for her to leave with Jaune.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave.” Yang took a few steps towards the stairs before turning back to Blake. “It was nice seeing you again, Blake. I hope to see more of you, okay? Anytime you need to escape-“ Yang waved at the mess the other students were leaving behind in their haste. “-this, feel free to come over. Ruby and I would be happy to have you.”

“Thanks.” Was Blake’s only response as she rescued her book off the table and brushed past Yang to head to her room. She paused at the entrance to the hall. “I’m going running tomorrow. It may not hold up to your exciting wild lifestyle, but I’ll be leaving here at ten if you want to join me.”

“If you ask me, risking your wrath to get a few sentences of conversation may be the most dangerous thing I do all semester.” Blake rolled her eyes but the small smile Yang could see she was trying to hold back told her Blake may be enjoying Yang’s pushy side. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Yang called through the closed door.

The smile the interaction elicited was so noticeable Pyrrha pulled her aside when she exited the building.

“Did you get a date?”

“No, but we’re going running tomorrow.”

“That’s great!” Pyrrha exclaimed.

“What about you and boy wonder?” Yang asked, seeing Jaune still hanging back but looking their way.

“He’s going to walk me home,” She ducked her head in embarrassment. “But he asked me out next weekend, once our cardio test is over.”

“I am so happy for you.”

Yang wasn't sure her smile could get any wider after leaving Blake but here she was, proving herself wrong.

“Well Nora was right about one thing I suppose.” Pyrrha winked as she backed towards Jaune. “The party of a century.”

“You got that right.” Yang laughed. “You better take good care of her!” She yelled at Jaune and he jumped, hurrying Pyrrha along to put more space between him and Yang.

Making her way to her own ride parked down the street Yang took one last look up at the apartment’s third floor. She could have sworn she saw a pair of amber eyes looking down on her. She waived just in case before hurrying to her bike. She needed to get a good night’s sleep if she was going to be up and in any shape to run in the morning.

[hobidreams]

Stay Quiet | JJK {M}

you think the library is only a place for studying. jungkook convinces you otherwise.

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x reader genre: smut, a dash of fluff words: 2.7k contains: college au, public place, condomless sex, oral (f), dirty talk, you almost get caught, but you kind of like it a/n: spawned from the drabble prompt that’s bolded in the text! reposted, thanks to tumblr being tumblr.

You have one goal for this term: a 4.0 GPA. Or as close to it as you can get. Grad school application deadlines are coming up, and you’re so close to the end you can practically taste the celebratory beer on your tongue. The library has become your new home, open twenty-four hours a day for all your studying needs. Your new routine is waking up early and leaving late. You don’t actually mind spending so much time here, not if it’ll get you to the marks you want and need.

Unfortunately, your boyfriend doesn’t seem to share that opinion.

“Jungkook, stop staring at me,” you mumble as you flip the page of your textbook. “Is there something on my face?” You’re eight hours into today’s stretch and it’s just nearing dinnertime, so the crowd has thinned out a bit, leaving just a few study groups occupying the tables.

“No, you’re just pretty.” Jungkook grins, handsomeness radiating off him in his casual black tee and slightly mussed dark hair. Single silver hoops hang from his ears, your birthday present to him last year. He never leaves home without them.

You can’t help but smile at his words. He always makes you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, even through the current exhaustion and grease and stress. You love him so much. Even though he’s totally distracting. “Thanks.”

“Aaagh, I’m bored. I’ve already browsed through all the Reddit threads and Facebook posts I can.” He throws his arms in the air in a stretch.

“You could just go home.”

“Home’s boring without you.”

You let your highlighter drop onto the table and meet his gaze. “If you’re going to stay, you should study.”

“I know all the material already.” He purses his lips as he taps his fingers on the tabletop to a quiet beat. “Plus… You’re wearing those sweatpants again.”

Your eyebrows knit. “What’s wrong with the sweatpants?”

“Nothing wrong, but it just… It makes me think of the last time you wore them.”

You try to wrack your brain for that particular memory but come up short. “What do you—"

“Can you please stop talking?” A person from the table next to you interrupts, annoyance in their squinted eyes and pouty mouth.

“Sorry,” you whisper, offering a raised hand in apology.

When you look back, Jungkook’s scribbling away on a scrap piece of notebook. Half a minute later, he tears it, hands it to you with a perfectly innocuous look on his face. You take the page, feeling a bit of high school nostalgia as you cast your eyes to his penned words.

Movie night. You wore them and your black thong, and I almost ruined ‘em when I stripped them off? Fuck. You came five times. It was amazing.

Are you blushing? You’re pretty sure you’re blushing, reading such filthy words in a public space. It’s coming back to you now, how you teased him by grinding your butt against him the entire night with subtle shifts. You had taken your delight in the way he became stiff in his jeans, emitting guttural grunts of frustrated arousal. He’d punished you (or was it a reward?) for it after, nice and slowly.

I can’t stop thinking about your pussy wrapped around me. So tight, so wet. If we were home, I’d already have my hands in your panties. Baby, I wanna touch you.

“Jungkook!” You whisper-hiss after finishing the second note he slips your way. “I have to study!”

He leans back, face infuriatingly neutral as he pushes away from the desk in the roller-chair. He adjusts his baggy top, your eyes drawn to his crotch as he pulls his shirt away and damn it, he’s half-hard. He knows what bulges do to you, especially his. You hate yourself for falling so easily for his seduction, heat already swirling in the pit of your tummy.

You suck in air through gritted teeth. You’re not going to get anything done like this; you need to set things straight. He’s already starting on his third note, amused by the faces you make as you read. You interrupt him. “Come with me.” You stand up.

Jungkook practically bounces to his feet, following close behind. He reaches for your hand along the way, sweetly lacing his fingers with yours. You’re heading for the very back of the floor among the stacks and shelves, where all the Old English books are stored, and no one ever goes. When you deem this to be as much privacy as you’re going to get, you whirl around.

“Jungkook, you can’t keep writing those notes.” You fight to keep your eyes on his, pointedly away from his crotch.

He’s not nearly as flustered as you. He calmly leans against the shelf with his arms crossed. “Why not? Are they affecting you?” That smirk. Ugh. All this time, and it still makes your heart flutter.

You don’t respond. Can’t, really, as he closes the distance between you with a few steps. His toned arms trap you in heat, breath warm against your forehead while he drops soft, promising kisses. Jungkook’s eager fingers start to trace the band of your sweatpants, just barely dipping inside to toy with the panties beneath. They’re plain, cotton, but still one of the hottest things Jungkook’s ever touched because they’re yours. “How wet are you under here?”

When he draws you closer, you can feel the outline of his full cock against your thigh. “Just let me have a taste, baby.” He palms your ass cheeks and if your pants weren’t in the way, he would hear the wet squelch of your soaked slit when he parts you.

You swivel your head, staring through the cracks of the books, hoping you won’t find another person among the tomes. “W-We’re in public, you know.”

“Please.” Jungkook licks his lips. “Don’t make me wait any longer to have you.”

You’ve lost. You know it by the flames that lick at your thighs, begging to be doused by his tongue. You know it by the knots tying themselves in the pit of your stomach, unraveled only by his touch. He drops to his knees and drags your pants down with him. You lean back against the surprisingly sturdy bookshelf and try to tell yourself that nobody comes back here anyway.

He flits that cute nose across your thigh, close enough to drink in the honey scent of your lust. “I’d say I’ll try to make this quick but... We both know I would be lying.” He trails a fingernail down your clothed slit. You shiver when he brings it back up, circling around your clit.

“We don’t have the time,” you mutter, too aware of the instinctual bucking of your hips to meet his fingers.

“You’re just impatient.” He whips his eyes up to meet yours, mirth clear in his dark irises as he gives you that mischievous bunny smile. But he’s nice to you, seeing as he’s in love with you and all. He eases your underwear halfway down your legs, enough to expose you to the stale library air and to his stare. He spreads you like he did before, this time the lewd noises clear and enticing.

Jungkook emits a low groan at the sight of your juices glistening, smeared all over the lips of your cunt. “You were gonna study while you were like this?” He dips his finger into you to gather droplets to use as lube for your clit. “You’re soaked, baby. Just from thinking about my cock?”

Your answer is a furtive whimper when he kisses your clit, tongue lavishing saliva and stimulation. He’ll be the first to admit that he’s addicted to your taste and how you twitch in response to the flicks, the licks. He can tell that you’re nervous right now, probably too aware that you could be caught as you keep looking around. But the fact that pleasure is burning away your fears? That turns him on.

Jungkook’s slim hands leave slight imprints on your thighs as he continues with coquettish strokes, flitting in and out. It’s an erratic rhythm to match your heart, twitching with fear at every slight noise or bump, afraid that someone will poke their head around the corner. But there’s a thrill with that too – one that you’ll probably never admit out loud but manifests itself in the jolts of bliss shooting through your nerves. It’s a high that Jungkook understands so well, adrenaline junkie that he is.

He can never hold out for too long after tasting your tangy sweetness. The tender exploration turns into something much more when he plunges his tongue into your cunt, shallowly fucking you as an infuriating preview for what his cock can do. If only he’d reward you with a finger. But he seems content to dart his tongue in and out, switching between that and a suction that makes your knees long to crumble. Your hands search for something to hold on to, eventually settling for a few dusty, thick-spined hardcovers.

“T-Too loud, Jungkook,” you stutter, sure that all his sucking and slurping is attracting too much attention among these confined walls.

“Can’t help it when you taste so good.” He smirks, looking filthy yet boyishly handsome with his lips all shiny, pink. “You know how much I love your pussy.” He presses a fond kiss to your clit, as if you wouldn’t believe him otherwise.

“Still… We have to stay quiet…” But you’re a hypocrite with the moans that tumble from your mouth, as unstoppable as the wetness drooling from between your thighs when he settles back in. If you were back home, you’d already be screaming his name and you both know it. You settle for burying your hands into his hair and raking your nails along his scalp.

“What if I want to hear you?” Jungkook grins because you’re grinding yourself onto his mouth. You can’t get enough of him despite yourself; his tongue’s just too convincing when it’s stroking its way up your heat. “Moaning like you always do when you come for me.” His hands grab palmfuls of your ass and squeeze. “Damn. Just thinking about it makes me so hard.”

When he lightly hollows his cheeks to add suction, every semblance of sanity slips from your mind. You tug his head higher as the shaking starts, but he doesn’t need your encouragement to keep his rapid pace. He’s seeking the reward of your whimpers as he draws out your climax until you’re too sensitive to go any further. At least, like this.

Jungkook surges to his feet. His belt and jeans clatter to the floor, pooling around his ankles before your aftershocks have had any time to subside. He spins you around, decisive hands not allowing any counterargument while your chest meets the shelf. All you can see through the musty books is the grey wall.

“S-Someone needs to keep a watch out.” You’re fretting, but the full, solid cock that nudges against your posterior demands your attention.

“Nah. Just focus on me.�� One thrust, and he plunges the first delicious inch inside you. “Focus on how I’m going to fuck you, baby.”

It’s true – he makes it hard to think about anything else with the stretch of his cock, the girth addicting. His hands find purchase on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he snaps his hips upward. In three thrusts, he’s drenched himself wholly into your heat. He’s trying to control himself as best as he can but your walls cling eagerly to his shaft, spurring him on. The shelves slightly rattle against the concrete in reply.

“It’s been too long since I was inside you,” he growls, nipping at the column of your neck. “I missed this pussy so much.”

“Missed you too.” You’d forgotten how the pressure builds so furiously, racking up with each thrust that kisses your cervix. You try to adjust, wanting to staunch the slap of his hips against yours, but he’s pumping at a pace that refuses to be quieted. Hells, you’re close to just abandoning your inhibitions. It would be so much easier to just give yourself over to Jungkook, to let him fuck you both into moan-filled, sloppy orgasms among the silent audience of books.

Then you hear the footsteps.

Unmistakeable.

Padding across the carpet, steadily coming your way. Probably boots or something, judging by the heavy, noisy steps.

Your heart sputters. “Shit.” Cursing, you try to push Jungkook away so you can have some semblance of plausible deniability but his arms hold you still. His cock stays right where it is, plunged all the way to his balls. “Jungkook, someone’s coming!”

“Shhhh.”

“Oh god, they’re getting closer,” you whine. “They’re going to see.” Fear ripples through you but excitement is firmly alongside it – thrilling and obvious while your muscles tense.

Jungkook groans, a tortured, soft noise when your cunt cinches around his shaft. “Who’s my dirty girl?” He whispers against the rim of your ear. “Getting so tight. I think you want to be caught.”

“Jungkoook...” Now when you say his name, it’s in frustration. He’s only grinding his hilted cock, enough to make the slight friction agony.

“I think you want them to see you like this, so fucking gorgeous on my cock. Sucking me in so well.” A lazy crescendo of thrusts threatens to buckle your knees when they turn into deadly pumps, aimed right for your sweet spot. Your voice is higher than it’s ever been, high pitched and whiny in your need. It makes your boyfriend chuckle. “You’re not being quiet at all.”

Arching against him, you feel sweat trickle down your spine. “I’m t-trying...”

Suddenly, he slams himself all the way home. “Let’s put on a show, yeah?” You jolt forward, his grunts animalistic and low with each rut. One of his arms hooked around your waist, he moves like nothing else matters in the world except bringing you pleasure and taking it in turn. Every smack of his pelvic bone against your ass feels possessive and you can’t get enough, even though you can practically feel the new pair of an intruder’s eyes on you.

Your mingled lust drips in rivulets down from your cunt onto his balls, more trickling out with every stroke. He just keeps going, the stamina trained through hours upon hours at the gym put to fantastic use. Especially when he nudges your legs apart even more. He lowers two fingers to your neglected clit and starts to rub.

It’s not even a minute later that you’re coming helplessly, bucking your ass back into him in a carnal search for more. His fingers never stop sending pleasure through your veins. It’s a double-edged sword, bringing him crashing down with you seconds later. Jungkook shoves himself so deeply into you that it hurts, but it’s so worth it to hear his groans, to feel the hot burst of cum shot right against your core.

He doesn’t stop until your walls are thoroughly sodden with him, still spasming erratically in climax. You hang your head and just try to breathe through the humid air. Your cheeks burn, stroked by the hair fallen out of your ponytail. Having Jungkook pressed against you doesn’t help, for his temperature runs just as high.

A minute later, rationale returns to your addled brain as the spent cock slips from you. “Oh!” You spin, looking desperately around Jungkook and the shelves for any signs of your unwanted visitor. Your heart only calms when you confirm with your own eyes that there’s no one there. “Damn it, babe, we could’ve been kicked out if that person came any closer!” You lightly swat at his arm while he produces a tissue from a pocket, to soak up the leaking cum.

Jungkook laughs, thinking your glare is much more cute than intimidating. “I heard them leave a while back. You were just too distracted to notice.” He lightly touches your nose with his own – a soft, loving boop.

“Whatever...” Your cheeks flushed, you reach down for your sweatpants. “Will you let me study now?” You grumble. You’re not actually sure if you’ll get any work done though, not when your thighs and cunt are slick with pleasure’s mess.

Jungkook affectionately pats your butt. Then he buries his face in your hair for a kiss from a smirking mouth. “Maybe.”

[thorne93]

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 12)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 2556

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy​, @carryonmyswansong​, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​ - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, spring break was here. 

Your flight got in and Spencer was waiting for you at the airport. You all but ran to him as he smiled at you, wrapping you in a tight embrace. 

“Oh, God, I missed you so much,” he remarked. 

“I missed you too. Any cases?”

“None so far, but I’m on vacation. Unless something huge comes in, you have me all to yourself.” 

“That’s just the way I like it,” you noted, grinning before giving him a quick kiss.

“Do you want to stop by the office?” he asked, taking your hand as you walked to the luggage carousel. 

“No, not today. I just want to be with you.”

“You sure? I know everyone’s missed you.”

You shook your head. “Yeah but I’ve missed you more. You and I are hardly ever alone. It’d be nice to just have one night, just the two of us?” 

He smiled down at you just before you grabbed your bag.

“Yeah, alright. Let’s go home.”

---------------------

“Holy… Wow. What have you been doing while I’m gone?” you asked, panting. 

“Nothing different,” he remarked as he rolled over. 

“It’s almost like you’re trying out for a marathon,” you teased, laughing.

“Are you complaining?”

“Hell no.” 

“Want to make dinner?”

“Absolutely. What have we got?”

“I got everything for you to make lasagna,” he noted, a bit of pleading to his voice and face.

You rolled your eyes. “I come back from working hard in Miami, working two jobs and you want me to make you dinner?”

“I’ll help make the salad, if that means anything?” he said with an uneasy face. 

“After the performance you just gave, Dr. Reid, I’ll let it pass.” You leaned up and kissed him before the two of you got out of bed and threw on pajamas to go make dinner. 

It took about an hour, but finally, the lasagna was in the oven. 

“So tell me all about Miami,” Spence encouraged. “I haven’t heard much from you in so long. Everything okay?”

You nodded, your stomach doing a flip. Until now, you could basically forget about Miami, Dexter… being a murderer. But your husband asking you about your second life brought all of that to the forefront of your mind.

You gulped down the hot pasta before answering, “Uh, yeah, everything’s fine.” You took a sip of water to buy some time. “Teaching’s been going good. I hit a snag here or there but midterm grades were great.”

“That’s great,” he said with an encouraging smile. “Does it feel like the students are really soaking up the knowledge?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Every class discussion is pretty interesting and I love answering all kinds of questions about our work and what we do. It’s pretty fantastic. It’s nice to be doing something where it doesn’t end in failure or worrying about losing my life or yours.”

“I know. I love our jobs but being in a calm classroom has its perks too,” he agreed with a quick grin. “And the investigation? How’s it going?” 

“Uh, going pretty good. The family’s had no leads though.”

“What’s your next step then? You’ve already questioned everyone in the PD, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah and that didn’t seem to help much either.”

“What about a geo-profile? I could help with that. Do you have the cases?”

“No, left them in my apartment down there. But I should definitely do that.” 

Suddenly, your hands were sweating but you tried hard to hide it. Lying to your boss over the phone was one thing. Keeping up appearances and not letting anything slip around Dexter’s circle was one thing. Lying to your husband whose career was to gauge every minute facial expression, shifting in weight, change in voice, was another. 

Not only was it his job, he was married to you. He knew when you were lying. He knew when you weren’t being totally truthful, and if he called you on it, you had no way to rebut him. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? I’m really surprised you haven’t cracked this case wide open. You know about doing the geo-profile.” His tone was just on the edge of accusatory and that sent your blood pressure through the roof.

Bobbing your head and swallowing, you said, “Right. Yeah, no it’s just I got caught up with school. No one else has been able to make a dent in the case so it’s obviously a hard one.”

“Yeah but you’re--”

“Busy with another full time job,” you reminded sweetly. “I’ll do the geo-profile. I was going to check into their criminal backgrounds next, see if maybe there was overlap there of drugs or money laundering.” This wasn’t entirely a lie, had you not picked up on Dexter’s mishaps, that would’ve been the next path you’d gone down.

“Ah, that’s a good idea too. Are you positive you don’t want help on it? I’m sure if we just gave the names to Garcia we’d have some overlap in a matter of a week.” 

“No, I really think I can start making headway with my stuff. I swear, if I hit a brick wall, I’ll come cash my chips in.” 

“Alright,” he agreed, finally dropping it, thank God. “Made any new friends? How’s your apartment?”

“Uh, I don’t really have time for friends,” you lied. “If I’m not on campus, I’m working the case or reading over homework. You know…” 

“Right. Well I hope you’re finding some sort of break down there. You need rest, time to recharge your batteries. Do you at least get to go to the beach?” 

“Not really, no. I should try though, more often.”

“Yeah, maybe every Saturday or something, try going out,” he suggested with a smile before taking a sip of his water. 

“Yeah, maybe. How about you? Have you been to see Morgan and the family in a while?” you asked, trying desperately to shift the conversation away from you, and it worked. The rest of the night you focused on Spencer’s work back home, Morgan, his mom, Garcia, anything but you. 

-----------------------------------

The next night, the team was still in town, so you and Spence decided you would surprise them after work. 

“So, I was just going to head home and--” Emily was saying as you stepped off the elevators and all eyes went to you. 

“Y/N!” Everyone greeted in a resounding happy voice. 

Garcia rushed you and hugged you tightly. 

“We weren’t sure you were ever going to come by! Reid said you were tired and just wanted to rest,” she said, glancing back to him, worried you were out against your will.

You laughed. “No, no, not quite. I just wanted the day with him,” you said, your eyes landing on him lovingly for a moment. “But now, we’ve caught up and I want to be with you all. Wanna go to the bar?” you asked and you were met with a resounding yes. 

The whole team joined you. Everyone peppered you with questions about the class, the course, how you felt about teaching. Often, people asked Spencer if his experiences were different or similar and you two had to bounce off each other for information. Everyone asked about Miami, how hot it really was, if you were enjoying it, if you were making friends, if you were happy down there. The team asked about your case, and you tried to dance a fine line of making it known you were working really hard, but not give away so much information that they felt like they had enough information that they could start looking into it. 

Eventually, talk turned to some shop talk, then home life, and then the party naturally divided into girls and guys. Rossi, Matt, Luke, and Spence went to play pool. Emily, JJ, Garcia, and you were at the other end, just talking girl talk.

“Okay, real talk,” Garcia started, looking at you, “is every guy just like really cut down in Miami? I mean, they’d have to be, right? They’re always on the beach, looking tanned and bronzed…”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I hate to burst your bubble, Garcia, but not every guy is a casting call for Baywatch.”

“It doesn’t have to be for Baywatch but maybe… I don’t know, a little Mr. Universe competition.”

The ladies all laughed, including you. “I really wouldn’t know. I don’t notice guys. If it’s not Spence, I just…” You left it at that before catching yourself staring at him from across the bar. He really was your one and only. 

“Aww, you guys are so in love, it’s so cute and, ugh, my heart melts for it,” Garcia said sappily.

JJ raised her eyebrows. “Well I think someone’s had one too many.” 

“Speaking of love,” you began, “Em, how are you and your boy toy? Any talk of wedding bells?”

“Woah,” she remarked, raising her hands in defense, “we aren’t even past the starting gate yet, not really. It’ll be awhile before we talk anything like that, but things are going good, really good.”

“I’m glad,” you said with a sincere smile. “Oh, I miss you all so much.” You put your arms around them and pulled them close. “How has casework been?”

“To be honest?” Emily asked. “It’s been really hard without you. Cases move about two times slower. There are times I’m close to begging Reid to just call you in on one or sometimes he even throws it out there but we know how important this is to you.”

“Yeah, it really is.”

JJ took a sip of her drink then said, “Oh, Y/N, you should know that Lloyd Markert was put away last week.” 

Lloyd was a case all of you had worked just before Halloween and his trial was slow to get off the ground but apparently it finally came to close.

“Oh, great! How long did the fucker get?” you asked, happy to know he’d be put away. He was a family killer who showed no remorse. 

“He got fifteen, thirteen with good behavior,” she informed with a sour face.

“But, at least that’s fifteen,” Emily noted.

“Fifteen? Fif-fucking-teen?” you all but screeched. “Jesus, why even bother with a verdict?” you asked, shaking your head. “Well, all we can hope is he gets jumped in the shower, right?” You raised your glass before sipping. All three women gave you an incredulous look.

“Uh, Y/N, you okay? That doesn’t really… uh, sound like you,” JJ commented. 

You shook your head. “No, I’m not okay. After Rochester and now Markert… No. I’m not okay. I’m sick of these fuckers walking. It’s just…. It’s not enough, alright? We’ve been at this for years… Years, every day we see people slaughtered, butchered, beaten, bludgeoned, raped, tortured, and for what? Because Mommy was a little too strict? Because Daddy had a forceful hand when they were a kid? I’m just sick of it all. I’m sick of seeing killer after killer after killer get the lightest sentences for horrible, gut wrenching crimes. These victims deserve better, they deserve justice.”

“And that’s what we work on getting them,” JJ reminded, frowning.

“Right, and that hard work? Our hours, weeks, sometimes months of work goes down the drain because some beat cop forgot the miranda rights. Or because someone tampered with the only evidence we had. Or because there’s some incredible technicality and it just sickens me. We do our job, we all do our jobs well, great even. But at the end of the day, we have a parade of people that these unsubs have to get through, and anywhere along the way, it can get fucked up, and most of the time it does, and it’s just....” You shook your head, trying to find the right word. “Heartbreaking, it’s goddamn heartbreaking, is what it is. To do what we do, to fight like we fight, for it to all count for nothing, not for the victims, not for us, not for their families.”

Garcia rubbed your back and Emily peered at you. 

“It can be rough, but if we do our jobs right, we have to have faith in the system,” Emily remarked. “That’s all we can do.”

“Maybe that’s all you can do, but I can do so much more,” you thought silently to yourself before taking a sip of your drink.  

---------------------------------------------

The next day, Spence and you were out getting lunch in the city when you were waiting on your food.

“This place reminds me of--”

“Cafe George, in Omaha, right?” Spencer finished and you nodded with a laugh.

“Yes, the same place that Morgan tried to convince you that rocky mountain oysters were fried chocolate.”

“Yeah, you know I still haven’t forgiven that?” he said with a smile.

“Oh, I know,” you assured. “That’s why you ensued on pranking him for two weeks straight following that. I still think the best one was when you disabled his car remotely and he could not figure out how to start it. It was pretty hilarious. And very sexy.”

“Didn’t know you found pranks arousing.”

“Oh I don’t,” you confirmed. “But you using that big MIT brain gets me hot and bothered every time.”

“Well maybe when we leave here I can show you just how big my brain can get,” he teased just as the waiter approached with your food.

“I’d very much like that, Dr. Reid.”

He smiled at you with a playful grin. “I’ve missed you, I’ve missed this.”

“I’ve missed a lot of everything,” you commented with a bit of melancholy. I didn’t realize how much I missed the team before last night.”

“So you don’t think you’ll stay down in Miami? I mean, if they ask you?”

You waved the idea off. “No, of course not. I mean… what could I possibly have down there? I can teach up here if I really feel inclined to.”

But then, the question caught up to you. You did have something down there, a friend. Emily, Garcia, Matt. They were all very close to you, your closest friends, you’d put your life on the line for theirs and vice versa. But none of them knew the real you. Known of them knew you were capable of murder. How could you give up a friendship with someone like Dexter, someone who wouldn’t judge you like last night? You couldn’t be yourself, you couldn’t rant about your hate for the scum of this world around your team. They believed in justice, a system, a higher power.

You believed in action -- real, swift, and effective action. 

How could you just abandon Dexter when he understood you and accepted you, your darkness and all, when you had teammates up here who could barely accept an angry rant?

And what about Spencer? He was the light of your life, the love of your life, everything you had ever wanted in a husband and more… If he found out what you truly were, what you were capable of, what you were willing to become, he’d be horrified, mortified, betrayed beyond any point of forgiveness. He’d leave you, and most likely have you arrested. 

He didn’t deserve that sort of pain, to find out he was married to a complete stranger. 

Which is why, he would never, ever find out. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 68

All night he hadn't left her side, which was fun at one point, because he was a real party animal, but on the other hand the conversation with Jared hadn't left her head for one second, they both knew it wasn't the time nor the place to discuss matters further. What time was it? 3AM and where was Jared? She hadn't seen him around for a while, probably already scoring new pussy, ugh no don't go there. “Another drink?” Nathan put his hands on her hips, something he had been doing all night, trying to get as close to her as possible, “oh no, I'm full up..have you seen Jared?” she looked around the room, “nope, then again he's already an older man, he can't keep up any longer” Nathan grinned at her, squeezing her flesh more tightly, just surrender and give yourself to me, woman! You know you want to. Harper pulled his hands away “don't say that, he's not old, trust me, I'm speaking from experience here” and turned to go, “wait, where are you going?” he tried to stop her “I'm going to look for him”. Charles..where was he? Oh there “Charles, have you seen Jared?” she gave him a quizzical frown, “He's gone..he left about an hour or so ago” Charles didn't seem too amused, “oh, I see..” she felt a bit scrutinized when he just stared at her with an empty look in his eyes. Gone where? His hotel of course, she ran to the cloackroom to get her coat and immediately headed for the exit, stilettos in the snow shuffled to the curb to hail a cab, he wanted to talk? Well she was ready and he'd better still be up. Half an our later she got out of the cab and ran inside the hotel, up to his room, she knocked and knocked but there was no answer, what the? She held her ear to the door, what did she expect to hear, loud snoring? He didn't snore and it was the middle of the night after all, or some heavy fucking noises? blegghhh no!!. Disappointed she walked to the elevator again and let it take her down with a heavy heart, maybe check reception “excuse me, has the resident in room 524 come back yet? I'm his..light designer” she couldn't think of anything else to not be told to take a hike “and I can't reach him on his mobile either”. To her surprise the guy quickly glanced at his computer “He checked out about an hour ago” what? He'd left? Left NY? What else could he have done? Airport..maybe he was still at the airport, the first flight left when? The only thing she could do was go out and check.

Two hours later she put the key in to open the door of her apartment, deep inside she had hoped she would find him here so her heart dropped when she found her apartment cold and empty. With a deep sigh she put on the heating and walked up to the huge window to see the sun come up above New York,  how can it be that you hurt me so much and now that you actually decided for yourself to leave I miss you so much?

From: HCDeRobiano

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: First so close, now so far removed?

Hey Jay,

So you decided to leave NY, huh? And I can hope that it wasn't because of me all I want but when someone leaves like a thief in the night, I just cannot help thinking it actually is because of me.

I will respect your need for distance/privacy/silence (pick a reason), I always did and always will, but I just wanted to tell how much I enjoyed your company the last couple of days.

I wanted to thank you for the party and more specifically for the Dior bag, you really went over the top there and I don't feel comfortable even accepting it..if you want I can have it fed-exed back to you, hope you kept the receipt.

Anyway, it's really ridiculous but I guess I just needed to have that talk with you after all..too little too late right?

Hope you're safe wherever you are without a snowflake in sight.

Coco

Jared had just landed in sunny LA, the contrast just couldn't be any bigger with where he came from, and he welcomed the clear blue skies, maybe they would be able to clear the clouds from his head. The arrival of her mail vibrated him back to life, his hands shaking when he read it, oh god..of course it's because of you that I left.

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: Re: First so close, now so far removed?

Harper,

Of course I left because of you, let's be honest here, I came because of Charles's Christmas party but I stayed because of you, and not the snow, I could be snowed in anywhere on this planet, as long as I'm with you, it's all good.

I never keep receipts, because a gift should never be returned, do with the handbag what you will, I bought it for you, end of story. Oh and btw is it ever too late? In our case that's debatable, because from what you said last night, you will never be able to forgive me, should you? I don't know about that either.

If anything was clear, it's the fact that you're moving on, and can I blame you? No! Can I blame myself for it? Yes! So, you do what you feel you have to do, I just hope it will give you clarity and closure..on us/on the things that I did (pick a reason as well).

Anyway, how's your wrist? Didn't hurt it too much at dancing? And how's Nathan? You two looked really chummy, is he a better lover than I am?

Jared

Fuck why did I write that last part? Why the hell not? She wants me to be open and honest, well I guess I am. I'm moving on too, it is what it is? Love is so ridiculously overrated, it's just lust with her, like it is with everyone else? Right? Yep! Convincing himself of that was harder than it seemed, because the words of her mail kept bouncing through his head all day long.

She needed to rest up a bit before she started painting, and she so didn't look forward to meeting Charles, that disappointed look in his eyes last night was haunting her, but her head hadn't touched her pillow yet when his reply beeped its' arrival. His words stung, oh he was upset and angry all right, sarcasm was his weapon and he wielded it like a champion.

From: HCDeRobiano

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: Re: re: First so close, now so far removed?

Jared,

You're not playing fair,  I told you how you nearly broke me when you did what you did, am I not allowed to move on? Do you want me to keep suffering? Does that amuse you while you just get on with your life? Not that it's any of your business but Nathan is a friend so far, not a lover, we haven't even kissed yet, he's a distraction right now, but I guess you know all about those, don't you?

Bye Jared, I don't think there's any point discussing this any further, maybe it's best if we made a clean break and stayed out of each other's lives.

Harper

Oh yeah, that's really convenient isn't it? Walk away from the real trouble, that is so like you, but not this time Harper, oh no, you won't get rid of me that easily, I'll keep you on your toes, that's for sure. I'll keep you on your toes, don't you worry, even long distance, but you're mine and that's how I intend to keep it.

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: Re: re: re: First so close, now so far removed?

Harper,

Let's go back to your original mail, you said you needed to have that talk after all, and now you're saying there's no point discussing it? Stop being so fickle, either you do or you don't and I think I know you enough to say that you do want to keep talking? I'm definitely up for it, I already was the last couple of days. I'm gonna be honest here, I can never have a clean break with you, I let you come too close for that and I think I can say the same for you, you and I both know that Nathan isn't gonna cut the cake, he's just some distraction, if it was only to get revenge then you would've let him get inside your panties already.

So, we'll leave it for now, I hate arguing by mail and if you're ready to talk on a more adult level, I'm right here, ok?

Jared

Fuck you, Jared, you stupid, arrogant fucker, fuck you! She growled as she jumped out of bed again, painting on adrenalin is never a bad idea, just get it out of your system and forget that stupid jerk. Ok so maybe he underestimated her, somehow he thought she was gonna write back but nothing more from her all day, he'd definitely pissed her off, another night full of doubt and wondering what she was doing, no way, ok call her..no answer, for fucks sakes Harper I'm not gonna do this with you again. Why do you have your heart set on ripping mine to pieces? I'm not asking you to forget I'm just asking to forgive, we were, no are, so good together so let's move on, it's that simple, forget about that irrelevant little fucker who's bending over backwards to get you in his bed, he isn't worth your time, the real deal is right here in LA.  

[soriseerakyra]

A Flight of Fancy -1- (Black!Batmom)

AN: So hi I know this is the first story I’ve posted in months and that there are tons of other things that I still have to write and catch up with, but this request was important to me so that’s why I did it first. I’m not sure when I’ll feel like talking about why I’ll was gone, but I will be trying to post more regularly from now on (Trying!). Anyway way thank you to @farala-sunita for the request and the detail given. It really helped me get this story out faster than I would have other wise.

TW: Guns and Gunfire,a hostage situation, and a few cuss words

“I don’t see you, are you sure I’m at the right place,” You mutter into your phone.  Rocking forward on to the balls of your feet you try to see through the crowded club. The heavy bass and the flashing lights are making it even harder to see the people you’re looking for.

“Ari is going to jump, she’s wearing one of those busted silver wings she likes,” A slightly irritated voice responds. You hear a small voice squeak out a perturbed ‘HEY!’ through the phone.

Moments later you see a small head rise above a group of girls. It is in fact a silver wig, not as horrible as some of Ari’s wigs usually are, and cutely styled in a pair of pig tails. Her short arms waved as she jumped, making her look like an excited fairy.

“I see her,” You say with a chuckle.

“Good, now hurry the hell up,” The phone clicks off quickly.

You roll your eyes at the tone but simply shrug it off.

Working your way through the gyrating bodies of the crowd, you have to apologize more than once when your hips bump into unsuspecting couples. Luckily none seemed too bothered by the intrusion, opting more to try and coerce you to dance once they see your figure than turn you away. Your cheeks warm at the invitation, but you politely decline.

“You guys got a table?” You question breathlessly as you come upon your group of friends.

A tall woman with honey brown skin stands with her hands on her hips, she flicks her eyes up and down your form, “It’s not like we haven’t been planning this for months, it just took to ‘til now for you to show up.”

“Sorry Kenya,” You say sheepishly. “We get swamped so easily, it’s hard to make time, you know that.”

She frowns, dark eyes looking over your form. Under her gaze you shift nervously, and your eyes flick to the other stone faces at the table.

Your eyes bounce back up to her pretty but firm face; you try you best to give her big doe eyes. You two lock eyes for a moment longer.

“Aww you dummy bitch, come here,” A wide smile spreads across her full lips and her long arms envelop you into a warm hug.

You have to stifle a giggle as she warmly rubs her hand up and down your back in sisterly affection. A chorus of cheers ring out from the other girls.

“How have you been, girlie?” She coos as she nuzzles into your curls.

“Okay,” you sigh as you pull back from her and giver her smile.

“Good,” she says slapping you on the back and then throwing an arm around your shoulders. She pulls you close and turns to the other girls, “Now that she’s here, let’s get fucked up!”

***

“What is with this city?” Serena, a mahogany brown beauty with straight dark brown hair and cinnamon highlights, questions exhaustedly as she throws down her second shot of tequila. “I swear almost everyone is on their way to crazy town.”

“There has to be something in the water,” you speak up, “I’ve never seen so many, like, objectively bad people.”

“You just think these people are crazy because you guys have been sheltered so much,” Kenya says taking a long sip from her vodka tonic. “As someone whose been working since they were fourteen, let me tell you, everyone is pretty fucked up. And they’ll do something fucked up to you the first time you let them. You always have to be on guard.”

As if on cue a thump lands on your shoulder, a warm head snuggles into you. You look down and let a small smile cross your face. Ari’s small head slumps against you, her eyes hazy as she drinks the last bit of her margarita. It was only her second drink, but she was already out of it. It was no secret to anyone at the table that neither you or Ari were the most capable of drinkers, but even you can handle more than two drinks; more like three.

“You’re right,” she coo’s drunkenly. “But it’s definitely worse her-*hic*- here.”

“I thought we came here to celebrate,” Jo-Jo, a full cheeked, septum pieced, artist drawls quietly as she sips her Hennessy. “Not to talk about how shitty this city is.”

“Boooo, why don’t you ever let me rant,” Serena, says full red lips pulling down in to a pout. “I don’t have anyone to talk to besides you guys. No one gets it when I say this city is weird, especially at work. They all think that I’m the weird one. Like sorry, I’m not used to niggas robbing banks every day like we’re in the middle of the 19-fucking-20’s.”

Kenya chuckles, “Jo is right though, we’re here to celebrate our two youngest.”

Eyes around the table shift to you and Ari, who gives a lazy thumb up.

“Our two babies here have finally made it too the big city,” Kenya starts with a smile. “No more suburbs, no more living out of mommy and daddies house. They are officially adults.”

A little cheer goes around the table. You feel a little shy at the attention, but Ari cheers loudly.

“So as a little gift we got you girls this,” Kenya, motions to another woman at the table, Chanté. Chanté was a quiet, slightly stern woman. Best friends with Kenya, and surprisingly Ari’s older sister. The woman hands Kenya two envelopes who in turn hands one to you and places the other in front of Ari. “We all chipped in.”

Excitedly you open the envelope and are almost instantly confused, “Happy six months?”

“Well, if you had shown up earlier it would have been the six-month anniversary of you moving into your own apartment.”

“Yeah but, Ken,” You sputter, “This is a congrats on your pregnancy card.”

Sure, enough the mostly white card had a featureless pink drawing of a woman with her hands spread lovingly across her protruding stomach.

“Hey bitch, we can take it back!” She snaps playfully.

“Okay, Okay,” you say fully pulling the card out. You flip open the card and among the words of congratulations, there is a small folded check sitting in the middle of the card. ��You didn’t.”

“You haven’t even looked at it yet,” Serena says hazel eyes buzzing with excitement.

Gingerly, you take the check from the card and flip it open; you gasp.

“You guys, this is $7000,” You say slightly shakily as pinpricks of tears begin to assault your eyes.

“Holy shit,” Ari says as she tears into her own card. “What the hell guys?”

“We’re your sisters,” Jo-Jo says with a click of her tongue and a smack of her black painted lips. “Clearly you guys didn’t read our bylaws.”

“Bylaws,” Serena snorts, “No one read them Jo. Ken and Chan wrote them on a piece of notebook paper that was barley legible by the time these two came a long.”

“And they still signed it,” Chanté interrupts speaking for the first time. “If they couldn’t read it they should have said something at the time.”

“Why so you could give them the evil eye? Girl bye,” Serena responds with a roll of her eyes and a flick of her wrist.

Chanté does, indeed, proceed to give her a withering glare.

“We told you we’d take care of you when you graduated right?” Kenya asked looking between the two of you. “We meant to give this to you guys when you first moved here, but some of us weren’t all the way financially stable.”

Serena shifts uncomfortably while Jo-Jo sticks her pierced tongue out at her in defiance.

“And we were supposed to give you this at your six-month anniversary, but we know that didn’t happen.”

This time her accusatory tone is directed at you and you find yourself shifting as well.

“But money a year later is better than no money at all.”

“It’s so much though?” You protest looking between the older women at the table.

“Speak for yourself,” Ari says swooning slightly.

“We figured two months' rent in any decent apartment in this overcrowded city, and a little for expenses and fun,” Chanté said looking at you with a warm smile before her gaze narrowed at her sister. “Ari, give me your check so you don’t lose it.”

The drunk young girl stuck her tongue out at her sister and teasingly waved it at Chanté, “I’m rich you can’t tell me what to do now!”

Chanté snatches the check from Ari’s and stuffs it in her purse, “I hope you know you’re coming home with me. You could never handle your liquor.”

“Whatever, as long as I can see my baby when I get there,” the younger sister croons. Chanté had a Boston Terrier, named Prince who was just as spoiled as the name implied.

“He’s at a sitter, you don’t think I’d leave him alone by himself when we’re going to be out until God knows when,” Chanté reasons.

“Can we get Ice Cream then? I’m really hungry all of a sudden.”

“Are you 12?” Jo-Jo interrupts with a snicker.

A raspberry effortlessly flows from Ari’s lips.

“This means a lot to me Ken,” You say softly while the others engage in a childish argument. “Student loans are a killer.”

“We got you, girlie,” She says with a confident wink. “I know for a fact that if I hadn’t gotten that one big scholarship, I’d still be paying that shit off.”

“Hey, waiter!” Serena shouts banging on the table trying to get anyone’s attention over the bass of the club. “We need shots!”

“Water for me,” you speak up.

“You done for the night?” Ari asks looking at you with big eyes, “You barley drunk anything!”

“I have a shift in the morning I can’t afford to get drunk,” you reason.

“Ugh you and work,” Ari says with a wave of her hand. “You’re almost as bad as those two.”

She jabs a thumb ant Kenya and Chanté both of whom narrow their eyes in irritation.

“We could take our money back,” Chanté says quickly.

“If you do I’m telling mommy.”

“Ugh, he’s not even paying attention,” Serena says practically standing on her seat waving her arms around.

“This isn’t a restaurant, you’re going to have to go up to him,” Jo-Jo says coolly.

“When are you going to come work for us?” Kenya asks looking at you seriously.

“I don’t know, corporate seems scary,” You answer hoping that she’d drop the issue once she sees how uncomfortable you are.

“Yeah it’s scary as hell,” Kenya agrees. “But once you get there and you make a name for yourself, they can’t tell you shit. I’m telling you some of them people be looking at me like I’m crazy when I come up with new ideas, but guess what, they do it. They know the rules: they listen and get paid or don’t and get fired.”

“I-,” you start but she cuts you off.

“Look pulling triple shifts at a bowling alley and waitressing while selling papers to college kids isn’t going to pay the bills forever.”

Your cheeks warm when she calls you out.

“I know you had a bad experience at the place you were at last time, but this is me we’re talking about. You need to put that degree to work. You’re a programmer at heart and I could use you, and you can use the money.”

“I wouldn’t have to work with a lot of people would I?” You ask slightly timidly.

“A small team of like minded people that I picked out myself,” She says with a shrug. “Just come see me this week. Quit those jobs, I’m saving a spot for you.”

You look at the woman whom you’ve called an older sister for years now with wide surprised eyes, “Okay.”

“Okay,” She says with a grin, “Good.”

“I’m going!” Serena says as she forces herself up from her seat.

“Kick his ass!” Ari screams.

“Chan, control your gremlin,” Jo-Jo mutters.

“I’ve been trying since she was six,” The woman in question spits out between clinched teeth.

“We have to get one dance out of this before the night is over,” Kenya says.

“Aww you know, Pea isn’t going to dance,” Ari says snuggling back into you and poking your cheek.

“We’re still calling me, Pea?” You moan slightly embarrassed. Pea was short for Sweet Pea, the name that Ari and Chanté’s mother used to call you when you would stay at their home. The others got hooked on calling you that and the name has stuck.

“Only if it’s a wedding,” Jo-Jo comments slyly.

“Remember when she took it down to the floor?” Kenya laughs

“All the way down,” Ari says slapping your thigh.

“Guys!” You whine, “I don’t want to-”

“HEY LET GO OF ME!” A voice shrieks.

All of you snap your heads toward the voice, the familiarity of the scream sending shivers down your backs.

From your position you can see Serena struggling to wrench her arm away from a figure. The room was still dark and the music was still pounding, making it hard to determine who was holding her.

“What the FUCK!” Kenya screams flying from the booth with Jo-Jo right on her heels.

“Call the police!” Chanté said to you before joining the other girls to help Serena.

“Hurry,” Ari says slapping your shoulders slightly as she got on her knees to watch the situation unfold.

“Trying!” You scream as you as you fiddle through your purse searching for your phone.

“Let go of her asshole!” You hear Kenya scream.

The music is still going but the atmosphere in the club has started to change. You can hear a mumbling break through the crowd. And then the screams started.

“HE’S GOT A GUN!”

It wasn’t the voice of one of your friends it was someone else.

“He’s hurting my sister Pea! What do we do?!” Ari screams.

Your head snaps up to look back to where the situation was unfolding just fast enough to see Chanté fall to the floor holding her cheek.

And while it was an awful sight, it only held your attention for a minute. There wasn’t just one figure over where the girls where, he’d multiplied to at least three or four.

“SOMEONE GET THESE FUCKING LIGHTS ON AND TURN THE GODDAMN MUSIC OFF.”

The command was followed by a rapid succession of gunfire and screams from patrons after. The music went off almost immediately, but the lights were a different story. At least thirty seconds had passed and the lights were still off.

Thinking quickly, you grab Ari’s arm and pull her down with you under the table.

“What are you doing?” She shrieks. “We have to help them!”

“What are we going to do? Think! They have guns” You hiss. “If they don’t see us when the lights come on maybe they won’t know we’re here.”

She looks at you with teary worried eyes and nods her head in agreement, wig shifting slightly.

“While we’re down here we can call the police and tell them what's happening,” You say as level headily as possible, while still searching for your phone.

“What if they kill her, Pea?” She whines her hands coming up to cover her ears as if she was trying to keep her head from spinning, the alcohol likely wasn’t helping.

“They won’t,” You say finally finding your phone and pulling it out. “If they wanted to kill her they just would have shot her.”

She opens her mouth to respond but is startled when the lights of the club finally come back on. The once hazy purple club is sudden lit, almost bone white. The dark table, while still a place of refuge, becomes less bearable as the light reveals the disgusting pieces of gum and other matter that are stuck to the bottom of the piece of furniture. Ari gags when she sees what was under the table that you had all been previously sitting at.  She shakes her head and tries to clear her thoughts.

“We’re going to be okay,” you assure her with a whisper.

You aren’t sure that she hears you, because she either refuses to respond or no longer has the will to.

Shifting your attention back to your phone, you finally begin to dial 911. You press the phone to your ear and wait as the phone rings.

And you wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Until finally, the phone clicks ending the call. You pull the phone away from your ear and your brow furrows angrily when you see that you have no service. But that shouldn’t be, you pay your bills on time and even if you didn’t, shouldn’t you be able to place an emergency call?

“Hey boss,” you hear a deep voice call over the whimpering over the crowd. “I shut the phones off but I think someone tried to get a call off.”

Your shoulders tense, we’re they talking about you? You couldn’t have been the only one who tried to get a phone call off could you? Surely, if they were able, someone would have tried to call the police too. And how could they stop phones from making calls?

“Nothing they can do now,” A voice says rather nonchalantly. “We just gotta wait here until we find a way out.”

“You heard the man!” The first voice yells, “Find a way out of here.”

You can hear at least ten pairs of boot clad feet start to move around, hurriedly looking for an emergency exit.

You want to peak out, to see if you can get a glimpse of your friends, but just as you’re about to make a move to do so a large figure stops in front of your table.

A thick pair of legs clad in dark pants and a pair of steel-toed combat boots are now positioned in front of you. You feel a lump form in your throat as the barrel of some type of military grade weapon dangles precariously between you and the figure in front.

Ari too, seems to see the gun and gets frightened. A small gasp leaves her form before she slaps a hand over her mouth.

You shoot impatient eyes at her and she gives you an apologizing look. Her gaze however, turns fearful as she begins to look past you.

Slowly you turn your head, and find yourself staring face to face with angry green eyes. A gloved hand reaches under the table and pulls you out from underneath. You let out a terrified screech.

“Pea!” Jo-Jo’s voice screams out followed by a grunt of pain.

There is some relief in hearing her voice and knowing that she is safe.

Quickly however, the relief is lost as you are smashed against the attacker’s body, his arm around your neck and his other around your wrist squeezing until your hand was forced to drop the phone that you were holding.

“Found the snitch boss,” he says gruffly.

A black masked figure in the center of the room, lording over a horde of whimpering bodies barley looks at him, “Smash the phone.”

The man brings a large leg up and his foot quickly descends on your phone, smashing the screen to bits.

“Done, boss.”

‘Boss’ seemed like he was going to respond when suddenly the lights in the club shut off. It was pitch black; it was so bad you almost couldn’t see in front of you.

“I thought I told you to get those fucking lights on!”

“They are on Boss! At least that’s what the system says,” another crony screams.

“Shit!” Boss says. “That means one thing! It’s the Bat be on guard!”

“Fuck!” The man holding you says gruffly.

He pulls you tighter against him and situates the two of you so that the gun is in front of the both of you. He’s moving frantically, almost spinning around like he’s looking for a ghost.

His movements get more erratic as there starts to be various moans of pain permeating throughout the room.

“Oh God,” he mumbles, “He’s here, he’s going to kill me.”

“Not likely,” a dark voice growls from behind the pair of you.

The man spins and lets off a few shots in the air, screaming in terror as he does so. The heat of the gun causes you to scream slightly.

There is small movement again and the man shoots. The flash of the muzzle lights up the room in front of you and because of it you are just barely able to make out two objects flying directly at your face. They seem to have a mind of their own as they swing around your face to hit the man behind you.

You fall to the floor but before you can right yourself, your leg is pulled and you’re going sliding across the floor.

“Pea?” An unsure voice questions when you finally come to a stop.

A warm hand finds yours and squeezes slightly.

“Ken?” You question.

“Thank God,” she mumbles, “He saved you!”

You all sit in darkness for what feels like ages the only thing that makes time pass is the occasional grunts of the hostage takers. It was the only sign that what you were experiencing was real, that you had really been saved by the Bat.

Soon a large spotlight is flashed into the club and your mind begins to register the police sirens. Had they been there the whole time?

The light illuminates the club and you’re treated to something of a horror show as police officers begin to rush in and secure the scene.  The bodies, not dead, of most of the attackers are hanging from the ceiling by their arms, legs, and whatever else he could grab to string them up.

The man himself is standing not too far from where you are and looking around the room like he was surveying his work.

A strong hand is grabbing your and pulling you out of the club and you allow yourself to be pulled passively.

“Thank you, Batman!” You say loudly hoping he would hear.

There is only a slight turn of his head to let you know that he heard you.

***

“That was quite an experience, are you sure you’re doing better?” A smooth concerned voice asks looking at you with worried brown eyes.

You meet the eyes of your new therapist, Dr. Campbell. An older black woman that reminds you of your mother with her kind and caring face but also with her cutting advice that cuts as much as it does motivate you.

“I mean I think I’m okay,” you answer with a shrug. “I took that job with Kenya, that’s how I got you. And work is good, it’s not as bad as I thought it was going to be.”

“I asked how you were,” She interrupts looking at you with stern brown eyes.

Your eyes flick away from her, as you suddenly find it hard to meet her gaze and tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Finally, you say, “I thought I was going to die. I thought they were going to use me as shield. I thought I’d wouldn’t get to see my family again. I thought my friends were going to have to watch me die. How am I? I’m horrible.”

A box of tissues is shoved in front of your face. You touch your cheek and realize that tears had been rolling down your cheeks.

“And I thought heroes were supposed to make you feel safe!” You scream out suddenly. “He was just as scary as the guys who held us hostage.”

She looks at you slightly confusedly before something clicks in her head, “Oh, he saved you that night.”

“Yeah he ‘saved’ me,” you say shrugging. “Doesn’t mean that I don’t get nightmares about those little bat things flying at my face.”

“He tries his best,” she says with heavy sigh. “But he does leave a bad taste is some people’s mouths. It's just a part of Gotham living unfortunately.”

“He could at least smile; you’re already having the worst day of your life when saves you”

“Oh sweetie,” she says with a chuckle and a shake of her head. Her shoulder length, gray streaked bob shaking with her, “This is Gotham. If you want someone to smile while they save you move to Metropolis. Here, we take what we can get.”

“I get it,” you say with a relenting sigh. “I guess he fits the city somehow.”

“According to your schedule,” she says as she checks the clock hanging behind you. “We are running out of time.”

“Eleven already?” You mumble earning a chuckle.

“First things first, I want to say that even if you can’t see it you are definitely improving.  You gave me details today that you never mentioned before, and you got through most of the story without crying. You are strong, you survived, and you are going to continue to overcome things that you never thought you would be able to.”

“Thank you,” you say slightly warming inside at the reassurance.

“Secondly, I want to give you some homework. Call a friend, watch a movie, go to brunch,” she says giving you a knowing look. “You have to start getting back out into the world. You can’t let this stop you from living your life.”

“I-, okay I’ll try.”

“Good,” she says standing up and holding out her hand to shake.

You meet her warm hand and shake it only to stumble forward as she pulls you in for a warm hug.

“Good luck today,” She says with a warm smile as she pulls back.

“Thank you,” you say slightly breathlessly and with an airy smile on your face. “I’ll tell you how it goes next week.”

You gather your bag and head for the door.

“E-mail me if you need me,” She calls.

“Will do.”

***

In the small private elevator reserved for the partners of Warner and Bobbitt’s Medical Fabrications, you rocked back and forth on your heels. The coffee that you stopped to get on the way over to the office had done little for your nerves, but at least you felt like you were zooming a million miles a minute. If you were moving fast maybe the rest of the world would speed up too.

As the elevator shot fast up to the 31St floor you started to worry. Was your blouse too tight? The beige pencil skirt too much? An aunt had warned you against wearing fitted clothes like the ones you were wearing now. That your natural shape and curves would distract people from your talent and brain. But you couldn’t exactly show up to this meeting in a sweatshirt and jeans the way that you usually did. After all, this wasn’t your job on the line, it was Kenya’s. The only thing you were confident in was your hair; thick and curly, you’d spent hours to make sure the lusciousness of your hair was on full display. Still was that enough to distract from your nervousness.

Maybe you had time to shoot a quick email to Dr. Campbell?

*Ding*

Too late you’re already here.

With a gulp you step out of the elevator and make your way to the conference room.

The glass is see through, and you can see the familiar tall form of Kenya talking to a group of men in suits. Sometimes you swear that all that sweet talk to get you to take the job was really for her own benefit. It was hard enough being a woman in a corporate power position, but being the only black woman? She must have felt like she had a target on her back. And while you were glad, she trusted you enough to give this job, you weren’t sure what you were going to do if she really did need back up. What if you got tongue tied and couldn’t explain your work?

Kenya catches your gaze and gives you a curt nod and a small professional smile. You take that as your que to come into the room. The door slides open and the chatter momentarily stops. The executives who recognize you turn their attention to the files in their hands.

Kenya’s assistant, Max, quietly moves over to you and hands you a folder with Warner and Bobbitt’s initials on it. Inside you find an itinerary of the meeting. An overview of the project you’d been shadowing and just started work on. It seemed like this was an acquisition meeting. Meaning someone was trying to buy the project even though it was barely out of prototype stages.

“I know that we have gone over the gist of the project gentlemen,” Kenya starts with a smile. “If there are any questions about the programming of the machine or the software, please feel free to ask them to our new lead engineer on the project.”

‘Oh shit that’s me’

Kenya gives you a reassuring smile, “If there are any other questions about anything else having to do with the project please feel free to ask me.”

To your surprise and relief, none of the executives in the room were too concerned about A.I. programming. Did she just bring you here to get your nerves all jumbled up? Clearly the meeting was over, even though you had come at the time that she’d told you to get there. What was Kenya up to?

“Excuse me?”

You jump, your shoulders find their way up to your ears in surprise. The voice is deep and considerably younger than the rest of the men in the room.

Your eyes meet with Kenya’s who has a sly smirk on her face. This is what she wanted?

Stiffly you turn to look back and meet a pair of dazzling blue eyes and wide million-dollar smile.

“Can I ask you a question about how this works?” He says smoothly.

“Huh?” You reply dumbly.

“Sorry,” he says mistaking your awe for contempt. “I’m Bruce Wayne.”

Your words are stuck your throat and your eyes can only go back and forth between his now outstretched and his eyes. Unfortunately, there is only one phrase that comes your mind.

“Son of a Bitch.”

[statistically-unlikely-monster]

Jon’s Not Dead-

Chapter 1 Part 1

     Eduardo’s patience was getting thin, and not just with Tord. The entire army was getting on his nerves. They promised to help bring Jon back, and yet nothing even related to bringing him back had started, and it had been almost a week. Instead, they locked him and Mark up in a makeshift jail. Eduardo watched them all from the bars, and all they did was laze about or plan. What it was that they were planning, Eduardo had no clue. All he knew was that he was about ready to finish off Tord himself.

     “What are they up to now?” Mark asked him, bouncing a rubber ball around the cell. He took the whole imprisonment thing much better than Eduardo did, but that didn’t really take much. 

     Eduardo shrugged, peeking out through the bars. All members of the Red Army were gathered around the planning table, which was just two card tables covered in notebook paper. Tord stood at the head of the table, pointing out different things on the papers. The other members sat around the table, two on each side. Eduardo recognized two of them, which he affectionately nicknamed Eyebrows Mcgee and Patd*ck, but he didn’t recognize the other two. 

     As the meeting went on, Eduardo noticed that Tord was having a bit of trouble writing things down or pointing at people to signal them to speak. It made sense considering his dominant arm was just recently amputated, but it was still amusing to watch Tord try and do things with his missing arm. Well… maybe not amusing. Eduardo hated him, sure, but he wasn’t a sadist. 

     “Paul, did you find anything yet?” Tord asked, chewing a bit on the end of his cigar. 

     Paul, whom was on his phone most of the meeting, froze up a bit before responding, “What? … -Oh! My recon! Yeah uh, I got nothing.”

     Tord sighed before asking Patryk about his recon.

     Patryk was much more helpful. He passed Tord a yellow file envelope before starting, “I think I found the girl. I was scouting around the park during Larp day- don’t ask- and I watched two people summon a real monster. One of them had a book, and I think it’s the Necronomicon, just with a different cover.”

     “Wait they summoned a monster?” Paul asked, finally putting down his game of Galaga.

     “Yeah. The same one that appeared during that superhero fight.” Patryk replied with a small shudder. The thought of it unsettled him, but he didn't know why, “Anyway, I tracked the girl by putting a GPS bug on her hat, and I think she lives closer to the city. The GPS said that it’s a couple hours from here.”

     Tord nodded, circling something on the table. All of them huddled together over the papers, trying to see, “Okay, so with-” Tord whispered to the others as they nodded along.

     Eduardo, both tired of sitting in a cell all day and being out of the loop, called out to them, “Hey! Did you forget about us over here?! I'd like to know what's going on!” Tord rolled his eyes, and tried to continue his meeting, but Eduardo wouldn’t stop shouting and hollering at them. 

     Fed up, Tord marched over, “If I let you in, will you be quiet?” he grumbled. He was too tired to threaten or really do much else to his “guest”.

     “Mark has to be there too.”

     “Ugh. Fine. But you two better be quiet.”

     “Whatever you say chief.”

     Tord begrudgingly unlocked the cell door, and led the two of them to the meeting table. Confused at first, everyone shifted around so that two more people could fit. Eduardo ended up being in between Paul and Partyk, and Mark was placed next to someone that looked like a weird doctor.

     “They’re joining us because he was being annoying,” Tord briefly explaining, shooting Eduardo a glare before resuming the meeting, “Okay. So within this circle here is where that girl should be. If we can figure out their apartment number then we can just go and fetch it.”

     Eduardo chimed in, “And by “it” you mean?”

     “The Necronomicon. You wanted your friend back, didn’t you?” Tord remarked, “Besides, it’s probably a bad idea to let a kid alone with a book full of black magic. It’s a miracle the city is still standing.” 

     “Sir!” Paul butted in, “Can we move on with this meeting?”

     Tord cleared his throat and agreed with a nod. Once again ignoring Eduardo, he returned to the map on the table, “We need the address and the times that they aren’t home. From there, all we need to do is sneak in, get the Necronomicon, then sneak back out.” The other army members nodded along, “I’d do it by myself, but uh,” he glanced down at the stump his arm was attached to, “How many robbers do you see with one arm? Anyway, Patryk, you and the new recruit need to scout out the address and any times the house is empty. Paul, you can guard the base entrance for now. I will… I guess figure how to get that robot arm working. Everyone’s dismissed.”

     With that, the army members went in different directions, leaving Mark, Eduardo, and Tord at the table.“Okay, cut the crap. Why do you really want it?” Eduardo questioned, hopping up from his seat to slam his hands on the table.

     “Look, I’m the bad guy, I get it,” Tord reassured him, pushing Eduardo’s shoulder so that he would sit back down, “You think I’m plotting against you at every turn, just waiting to backstab you, right? Well, this time I’m not.”

     “Wait, what do you mean this t-”

     “Just relax and let me handle it. Soon you’ll be out of my hair, and I’ll have back my property. It’s a win-win. You have your friend, I have the key to immortality.”

     “Aaaaand there it is.”

     “Hey, you wanted the truth.” He dismissed himself, leaving the two of them without another word. Eduardo slumped over the table with a groan, cradling is head with folded arms. 

     “What’s wrong?” Mark asked, hopping up to sit next to Eduardo.

     “Are you kidding me? He killed Jon, locked us up, and continues to undermine me at every turn! That Tord guy is what’s wrong!” Eduardo shouted, getting red in the face as he spoke, “ And yet you just sit there just going with it all. I thought you were my backup Mark!”

     Mark tried to calm him down, “I am your back up! But this guy seems to be trying to help us. Besides, you beat him up. If he’s smart, he won’t try anything with a person stronger than him.”

     Eduardo, looking away to the papers on the table, grumbled, “I hope you’re right.”

[trillhouse-lh]

Writer’s Block (Sin Adults)

> “Daaad… hey, Earth to dad.” > “Mmm,” Bobby grunted, not really paying attention as he typed away at his keyboard. At the doorway stood his daughter, wearing her usual overcoat and an irritated scowl on her face. > “Mmm?! That’s all you have to say?!” Robbie snapped. “Where the hell WERE you?!” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot as she waited for an answer… only to receive none. In fact, the man didn’t even seem to notice that she was talking to him. With a growl of frustration, she stormed across the study to her father’s chair. “HEY! Are you LISTENING?!” > “Not right now, sweetheart,” Bobby mumbled as he typed, not even glancing up from his screen for a moment. “Daddy’s worki-” Before he could finish, Robbie grabbed the back of his chair and spun him around to face her. “Hey!” > “Don’t you ‘hey’ me!” The girl barked. “You were supposed to pick me UP, you jerk!” > “Roberta Elizabeth Loud! Do NOT call your father a… wait, what time is it…?” Bobby glanced at the clock, his brow furrowing as he saw it was only 2:17 PM. “It’s… Roberta, what on Earth are you doing home this early?” > “It’s a HALF DAY, dad… we got out at NOON! I’ve been telling you all week!” Robbie shouted. “Do you have any idea how long I was waiting for you?!” As his daughter’s words sank in, Bobby’s look of confusion shifted to one of remorse. > “Oh… oh, geeze…” Bobby groaned and buried his face in his palm. He’d gotten so wrapped up in his writing that he’d completely forgotten he had to pick Robbie up from school, let alone pick her up early. “I’m sorry, sweetheart… I wasn’t-” > “You weren’t paying attention. Right,” Robbie huffed, looking away from him with a scowl. “What else is new…”

> “Robbie, I…” Bobby began, only to hang his head and sigh. “Why didn’t you call…?” > “I DID,” The girl shot back. “You didn’t answer.” Bobby cocked an eyebrow. > “You… hang on,” He said as he snatched his phone off his desk. “I never got any-” As he checked his phone, the man’s heart sank; there were fifteen missed calls. FIFTEEN, twelve of which were from his awaiting daughter… not to mention a slew of unnoticed text messages. “...Oh, shit…” He muttered. “I had it on silent...” > “OH! You had it on silent! Great!” Robbie said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. “Never mind that I had to walk my ass all the way over here, it was just a mistake. And here I thought you were just ignoring me! Well, glad we cleared that up!” > “You WALKED? Honey, why didn’t you call Lemy?” > “Because he’s busy with job interviews all day. You know, like you TOLD him to do?!” She spat, making her father wince. “And before you ask, mom and aunt Lupa were at work.” > “I know, I know… ugh.” Bobby lifted his reading glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Robbie was right to be mad at him… he’d messed up, bad. With another sigh, he lowered his glasses and looked at his daughter apologetically. “Robbie, I’m really sorry. I was writing, and I-” > “You think that’s an excuse?!” > “No… no, of course not,” Bobby assured her. “This is my fault, simple as that. I swear, I’ll-” > “‘I’ll make it up to you’. I know,” Robbie grunted. She knew her father was being sincere, and she knew he hadn’t MEANT to brush her aside like that… he never did. > But it still stung. > “Whatever… I need some water,” Robbie said with a scoff, turning and skulking out of the room with her hands jammed into her jacket pockets. “Had a long walk, y’know?” Bobby sadly watched her go, then slumped back in his chair with a groan.

> “Nice, Bobby… nice,” The man grumbled under his breath, lightly beating his fist against the side of his head. He took a few moments to wallow in his own guilt before taking a deep breath through his nose and exhaling. He’d have to figure out a way to make things up to Robbie, but that could come later… for now, there was another matter to attend to. > Bobby frowned as he looked down at his phone. While the brunt of the missed calls had been from his daughter, there were also several from an ‘Alan’. Alan Douglas, specifically... Bobby’s literary agent, and the reason WHY he had put his phone on silent in the first place. > Alongside his many other projects, for nearly six years ‘R.J. Loud’ had been plugging away at one novel in particular: Memoirs of a Technician. Title pending. Something of a high-concept tale, told from the perspective of a lowly technician aboard an intergalactic freighter. It was one of his earliest ideas, and one he’d kept close to his heart for years… possibly even his magnum opus. Just a few weeks prior, he’d submitted his proposal to Alan. And now? Now, he was dodging the man’s calls as he continued writing his third draft. > Bobby chewed his lip, his thumb hovering anxiously over his agent’s name. Despite his best attempts to remain optimistic, he’d been through this song-and-dance far too many times before… he’d show them his finest work, work he had poured his very soul into, and time and time again it would be cast aside as though it were nothing more than rubbish. This time, he tried to tell himself, would be different. This time, his hard work would pay off. This time, people would finally be able to read the story he’d always wanted to tell. > So why was he hesitating?

> ‘Alright, Bobby… alright,’ He thought, taking a moment to collect himself. ‘Just get it over with. Whatever happens, it’s fine.’ Bobby took a deep breath and, finally, pressed down on Alan’s name to return his call. His leg bounced anxiously as he waited for the man to pick up. > [Alan Douglas speaking,] A clean and business-like voice spoke through the earpiece. > “...Hey, Alan.” Bobby said, trying his best to mask the lack of enthusiasm in his voice. “It’s me.” > [Oh, Robert! I’ve been trying to get in touch with you.] > “Yeah… I noticed. Sorry about that.” Bobby spun back around to face his computer and tried to get back to work, as though it would distract him from the bad news he no doubt was about to receive. “Well, let’s hear it.” > [You don’t sound particularly optimistic,] Alan said. His client merely gave a short, humorless laugh. > “Should I be?” He asked; Alan made a vague, indecisive noise that spoke volumes, and Bobby let out a sigh. “What’d they say?” > [Nothing, actually…] The agent said. Bobby stopped typing mid-sentence, his brow furrowing in confusion. > “Nothing…?” > [Well, no…] The man paused to clear his throat. [...That is to say, I haven’t actually spoken to a publisher yet. In fact, I only just finished looking it over today. Busy schedule, you know how it is.] > “Oh… I see.” Bobby muttered. This was somewhat unusual… usually if Alan had any feedback or suggestions he’d reach out through email. “Well, what did you think?” For a few moments Alan said nothing, seemingly mulling over his words. > [Right, well. It’s… different, to say the least,] Alan said in an unusual tone, as though forcing himself to sound supportive. [Not quite what one would expect from the genre.] Bobby slumped back in his chair and rubbed his temples, already beginning to feel a pit forming in his stomach.

> “...Is that a BAD thing, Alan?” > [No, not inherently…] The agent replied. [I just think it needs to be… REFINED a bit more before we can-] > “Look. Alan. Let’s not beat around the bush, alright?” Bobby cut in, his voice quiet and sullen. “Just give it to me straight. What did you think.” There was a heavy silence, broken only by Alan’s faint breathing; after what felt like an eternity, the man gave a deep sigh. > [Alright. To be frank, I have no idea how you expect me to sell this,] Alan said plainly. [Don’t get me wrong, it’s well-written, but-] > “But WHAT, Alan.” Bobby snarled. > [...BUT, if I’m being completely honest, it’s just… I honestly have no idea what you’re going for, here.] Alan said. [I mean, who’s this meant to appeal to, exactly?] > “It’s cerebral science fiction, Alan.” Bobby grunted, his fingers rapidly tapping against the armrest as he fought to keep himself calm. “It’s a niche genre.” > [You think I don’t know that?] Alan retorted. [There’s cerebral, and then there’s… whatever the hell THIS is. For God’s sake, you sent me over a hundred pages of a mechanic talking to himself about repairs and space economics.] > “It’s called WORLDBUILDING.” > [Rob, there’s over fifteen pages dedicated to explaining some kind of… cyber capacitor thing.] > “Cyclonic reduction capacitor,” Bobby corrected him. “It’s a crucial component of the ship’s… look, you’re only going off of three sample chapters here. In the full story-” > [Does anything change?] The man interjected. [Do things pick up? Is there any sort of call to action for our protagonist? Does anything HAPPEN in this story, Robert?] Bobby tried to answer, but all that came out was a faint croak. Suddenly, his mouth felt very dry.

> “That’s…” He began, pausing to wet his lips. “...I-it’s a character study…” He heard another deep sigh through the earpiece. > [Right… case in point.] Alan’s said. Bobby couldn’t help but find his tone similar to that of a disappointed parent. [Rob, listen. I like you. I wouldn’t keep doing this if I didn’t. But NO publisher would want to touch something like this. Hell, based on what you sent me, I doubt anyone could even get THROUGH it. There’s no hook, no sense of pacing, no structure… there’s a fine line between ‘methodical’ and ‘boring’, and you’ve crossed it in the first five pages.] Bobby grit his teeth and dug his fingers into the armrest. As much as he’d tried to prepare himself for disappointment, he hadn’t been ready to have his work critiqued so harshly. That his agent’s tone was calm and matter-of-fact, free from hostility or condescension, somehow only served to anger him further. > “...I’ve spent six years on this, Alan. Six years,” Bobby hissed. “And you’re telling me it’s BORING?” > [I’m telling you the TRUTH, Rob. You’re writing for an audience that simply doesn’t exist,] His agent replied. [I’ve told you time and time again, this isn’t what readers want. There needs to be excitement, something to capture the reader’s imagination, especially in THIS genre. You’ve done it before, Rob… you can do it again. Why not continue Sons of Dawn?] > ‘Sons of Dawn’. Bobby clicked his tongue in irritation at the mere mention of it. It had been his second novel after Voice of the Cosmos, as well as his second--and last--to be published. While the first had received a somewhat mixed reception, Sons of Dawn had proven to be a moderate success, and to this day he STILL got fan mail asking him to continue the story.

> But they had been nothing more than generic space adventure shlock to him, the sort of thing one might find in an airport convenience store. He’d slapped both together in the span of a single year for no other reason than to get his foot in the door, and while he’d initially been pleased with the unexpected success, he’d long since grown to resent his early work. Was it marketable? Yes. Was it what he wanted to write? > “...No.” > [Rob-] > “I’m not going to sit here and let YOU tell me what I should write. I’ll fucking publish it MYSELF if I have to.” > [Robert, please, be reas-] > “I think we’re done here, Alan.” Bobby said before the man could get a word in edgewise. “Goodbye.” Without another word, he ended the call. His nostrils flared with sharp, quick breaths, and it took everything he had in him not to hurl his phone across the room in anger. With a growl of frustration he haphazardly tossed the device onto the desk before leaning forward and burying his head in his hands. Rejection was one thing… he was more than used to it by now. But to have the very nature of his work torn apart so thoroughly hit far harder than he had expected and, quite frankly, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt so sick to his stomach. > “Sheesh, sounds like THAT didn’t go well.” The silence was broken by none other than Robbie, standing in the doorway with a curious expression on her face. “Turned down again, huh?” > “...How long have you been there, Robbie?” Her father asked, not so much as glancing up from the desk as he spoke. She simply shrugged and sauntered in.

> “Long enough. Been a long time since I’ve seen ya so pissed off,” The girl said calmly. She walked over to the desk, flicking a magnetically-floating model of the Enterprise and watching as it spun around in the air. “So what’d they say this time? Too emotional? Too complicated? ‘Too optimistic for the current political climate’ or whatever? That one’s always been my favorite.” Bobby sighed, removing his reading glasses and setting them aside. > “Sweetheart, please, not now.” He grumbled as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m not in the mood to-” He was cut short as Robbie leaned over his shoulder, her cheek pressing against his as she looked at his computer screen. > “‘Gerald frowned as he withdrew the... tri-conductive relay processor… from the smoking chassis of the… quasi-biotic dexometrical… hex… nani the fuck am I READING, here….?” > “Roberta, LANGUAGE,” Bobby snapped, gently pushing the girl away and minimizing the document. “Don’t you have homework to do, or something?” > “Nah, not on a half day.” Robbie replied with a shrug. “But hey, looks like you’ve got time for a break now, right? C’mon, let’s do somethin’.” > “I told you-” > “C’moooon. I’m bored.” The girl grabbed onto her father’s arm, tugging on it to try and coax him out of his seat. But the man wouldn’t budge, jerking his arm from her grasp with a huff. > “Robbie. PLEASE.” He repeated. “Not now. Go play a game or something, alright? I’m sure Lemy will be back soon-” > “I don’t WANT uncle Lemy right now,” Robbie shot back, shooting her father an annoyed scowl. “We never get to hang out any more. You’re not busy, so-” > “I. AM. Busy.” Bobby growled. His daughter fell silent, seemingly taken aback by his demeanor; He knew he was being cold towards the girl, but right now he was too worked up to deal with her. “Now, please. Go.”

> “Yare yare... you really are in a mood, aren’t you?” Robbie grumbled, her father letting out an audible sigh as she flopped into a nearby chair. “Y’know, aunt Lupa’s right… you ARE too uptight.” > “Right, because she’s SO well-adjusted…” Bobby muttered bitterly. > “Hey, at least she has a real job.” > “Writing IS a real job!” Her father snarled. Robbie scoffed and shot him a cocky smirk. > “Then how come mom’s the one paying the bills?” She joked; unfortunately, her father looked less than amused. His hand curled into a tight, trembling fist, and he had to shut his eyes and take a deep breath to calm himself. > “...BECAUSE, Robbie,” The man hissed through clenched teeth. “This whole damn industry’s run by IDIOTS that wouldn’t know a good story if it kicked them in the teeth. Now are you going to leave me alone, or-” > “Sounds to me like you’re just not a very good wri-” > “That is ENOUGH!” Bobby roared, slamming his fist against the desk as he stood from his chair. The rage in his voice was enough to silence Robbie in an instant, and the amused smirk faded from her face as he wheeled on her with fire in his eyes. “I’m not about to let a CHILD talk about me OR my work like that, ESPECIALLY not my own fucking daughter!” > “G-geeze dad, chill!” Robbie stammered as she too stood from her seat. “I was just jok-” > “I am not a fucking JOKE, Roberta, and neither is my WORK! Now I’m not going to say it again: GET. OUT! Do you UNDERSTAND me, Roberta?!” For several moments neither spoke, nor moved… Bobby stood with his arm outstretched, pointing towards the door as his chest heaved with heavy breaths.

> Robbie chewed her lower lip and averted her eyes, her face scrunching up as though she were fighting off tears, but Bobby didn’t falter; then just as he was about to shout at her again, she let out a growl of frustration and snatched the lamp from her father’s desk. She threw it with all her strength and it struck the wall with the loud CRASH of shattering glass. > “ROBERTA ELIZABETH LOUD!” > “Yeah! I know! I’m fucking grounded, what else is new?!” The girl spat, turning on her heel and storming out of the room. She paused a moment in the doorway to shoot one last glare over her shoulder. “...Asshole…” She muttered under her breath before skulking away to her room, being sure to slam the door so hard that a nearby picture crashed to the floor as well. > For some time Bobby stood there, his gaze fixed towards the door, before looking down at the broken lamp lying on the floor. Finally he groaned and slumped back into his chair. > “Fuck’s sake, Bobby…” He muttered to himself; Bobby ran his hand through his hair, sitting in silence as he let his heart rate return to normal. It wasn’t like him to get so worked up, let alone to the point of screaming at his daughter, no matter how out-of-line her comments may have been. He knew she hadn’t meant it, of course… she’d simply pushed the wrong buttons at the wrong time, and instead of handling it with maturity he’d exploded at her. Perhaps he was simply taking out his anger on her. In any case, he’d fucked up for the second time that day. > He REALLY wished Loan let him keep alcohol in the house.

> Bobby let out a deep sigh as his gaze fell upon his monitor. Six years of effort down the drain… not merely dismissed, but downright savaged. Granted, it was only one man’s opinion, but his criticism had been so thorough that even Bobby couldn’t help but dwell on his words. Now that the anger had faded, he only felt a deep sense of inadequacy. He wondered if this was how Lemy felt about his own failures… a musician that couldn’t play. A writer that couldn’t write. > Pathetic. > Bobby opened up the document again and stared at it, weighing his options. Perhaps he could salvage it… cut back on the exposition, come up with some kind of plot, some POINT to the story he was trying to tell. But perhaps that was the problem… there was no point. There never had been. The stories he wanted to tell simply weren’t what anyone else wanted to read. They were simply wasted efforts, and nothing more than that. > “...Fuck this,” Bobby muttered. He took a deep breath and closed the document, clicking ‘no’ when it asked if he wanted to save. > Back. > Right click. > Delete. > Are you sure you want to delete this folder? > Yes. > Right click. > Empty recycle bin. > ...Yes. > Once he’d done the same for his online backup, Bobby leaned away from the keyboard, withdrawing his trembling hand from the mouse. There… it was done. He wasn’t sure how he should feel… part of him wanted to laugh, part of him wanted to cry, and another part of him wanted to vomit. Instead, he sat in silence with naught the tick of his wall clock and gentle hum of the AC unit keeping him tethered to reality. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there; perhaps five minutes, perhaps thirty, perhaps an hour. It was the growl of his stomach that finally snapped him from his stupor, and it suddenly dawned on him that he hadn’t had so much as a bite to eat since breakfast.

> “...Alright.” Bobby unsteadily got to his feet. As he made for the door, he felt something crunch beneath his foot: the glass from the lamp. He’d completely forgot about it. “Thank God for slippers…” He said with a sigh of relief. > After a quick detour to the utility closet, he returned to his office and swept the brunt of the glass into a dustpan. He’d vacuum up the smaller flakes later… once he’d dumped the glass and bent remains of the lamp into the trash, he made his way down the hall towards his daughter’s bedroom. Before he could even think about food, he had to apologize for his behavior. > “Robbie…?” He called, gently knocking on the door. “Can I come in?” No response. Bobby frowned and gave another knock. “...I’m not mad,” He assured her. “I just want to talk.” > “Go away,” Came the muffled voice of his daughter from the other side. > “...I’m coming in,” He said. Robbie said nothing further as he turned the handle and stepped inside. The room was dim, but with the light from the doorway he could see his daughter lying in her bed, completely covered by her bedsheets. “Robbie… are you alright?” Again, no response. Bobby frowned and approached the bed, nearly tripping over the girl’s hastily discarded jacket in the process. “Look… I wanted to apologize,” He said softly. “You were right. I was being an asshole, and I’m sorry.” No response. The man sighed and scratched the back of his head. “Robbie, please,” He pleaded, taking hold of the blanket. “Talk to… me…?” > As he pulled the blanket aside, he found nothing more than a small pile of pillows lying beneath. He barely had a moment to process this before an attack cry rang out from behind him; he yelped in shock as his daughter leapt onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck and wrestled him to the ground with a THUD.

> “Sorry?! You really think that’s gonna cut it?!” > “R-Robbie, get off…!” Bobby struggled in the girl’s grasp, but he was far from a strong man; Robbie easily flipped him onto his stomach and sat down on his back before he could get back to his feet. The man cried out in pain as she took his ankles under her arms and bent back his legs, putting him into a boston crab. > “Or what?! You’ll ground me?! Too late for that!” She snarled with a forced, aggressive drawl appropriate for a delinquent.“You forget to pick me up, you YELL at me, and now you expect me to just FORGIVE you? Ain’t happenin’! I ain’t forgivin’ you till you’re BEGGIN’ for it!”   > “OW! Okay, okay! Please, I-” Robbie applied more pressure, earning her an even louder whine of pain from her father. “ROBERTAAAA! PLEASE!” But the girl did not yield; knowing her, Bobby doubted she even INTENDED to until she was satisfied. If he wanted to get out of this, he’d have to play by her rules. “F-fine…!” With a grunt of effort, Bobby managed to push himself upwards. > “Whoa…?!” Robbie gasped in surprise as she found herself being lifted upwards. She may have been strong for her age, but she was still far smaller and lighter than her father; once her feet were off the ground he twisted his body, flipping her off of his back with a yelp. He grunted as her back hit the ground and, to her surprise, she quickly found herself trapped in a cradle pin. > “Now what?” Bobby asked with a cocky smirk. “Let’s see you get out of…?!” His apparent victory didn’t last long; with an amused snicker his daughter managed to slip free from his hold and the next thing he knew, he was once again on his stomach, gagging as Robbie trapped him in a chokehold. That was it: he desperately tapped her arm in submission and she released him.

> “Not bad, dad.” Robbie said with a smirk as her father gasped and panted for air. “That’s the first time you’ve pinned me in, what, two years?” > “Y-you…” Bobby managed to gasp out between breaths. “You’re way too rough, you know that…?” Robbie simply shrugged, apparently unmoved by her father’s plight. He tried to push himself up again, only to find himself pushed face-first down to the ground. > “Apologize again,” Robbie demanded. Bobby sighed. > “...I’m sorry.” > “For?” > “Everything,” Bobby muttered. “Really… I mean that. I’m sorry.” The girl narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips as she considered her father’s words, then gave a small nod. > “...Me too,” She said. Robbie climbed off his back and let him sit up, wincing as he rubbed his sore neck. “For the stuff I said… and the lamp.” > “No, it’s… ugh, hang on…” Bobby flexed his neck a bit, letting out a grunt as he heard a loud POP. “There we go… anyway…” He paused to clear his throat before continuing. “It’s alright. Given the circumstances, anyway… I’ve been a real jerk, today. It’s just…” He frowned and averted his eyes, taking a deep breath before shaking his head. “...I wasn’t mad at you. I was just… mad.” > “What happened?” Robbie asked; her father furrowed his brow, then groaned and flopped onto his back. > “What HAPPENED is that I’m a hack,” He grumbled, raising a hand to massage his temples. “Asimov, Wells, Clarke, Ellison… my whole life I’ve wanted to be like them, you know? One of the greats. Hell, I even deluded myself into thinking I COULD be. But… I was wrong.” > “Hey, don’t… don’t say that,” Robbie said softly, inching a bit closer. “I mean, you got published before, right? It could happen again.” Her father simply shook his head and gave a dry, humorless chuckle.

> “Those were rush jobs, nothing more than that.” Bobby muttered. “There was nothing special about them, hell, I barely even THOUGHT about them while I was writing them. It just... happened.” The man scowled slightly, his tone growing bitter. “...I wanted to tell stories like the ones I grew up with. To make people feel the same way I did when I read them… and the only time I came close was a complete accident. What a joke.” Robbie averted her eyes and pursed her lips in thought. > “Well… I won’t pretend to know much about writing,” She said, scooting to her father’s side before lying on the ground beside him. “But maybe that’s the problem?” > “...Eh?” Bobby pushed himself up on his elbows and looked at his daughter with a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean?” > “I mean… maybe you’re thinking too much,” The girl suggested. “You always told uncle Lemy that he was so worried about what he wanted to be that he ignored the things he was actually good at… maybe it’s the same for you?” Her father furrowed his brow in thought. “Y’know… you always were good at making things up off the top of your head. Remember those bedtime stories you used to tell me?” > “...Prince Nebula.” Bobby chuckled, a nostalgic smile crossing his face. “How could I forget?” He used to lie with his daughter at night, weaving tales of an alien prince and his quest to save the galaxy from the evil Baron Galacticus. They’d been simple, cheesy stories, made up entirely on the spot despite their ongoing narrative. But nonetheless Robbie was always eager to hear what adventures came next for the intrepid prince, and Bobby had cherished those moments above all else.

> “Well, those always meant a lot to me, soooo… I dunno…” Robbie muttered, “Maybe they could mean something to other people too?” Bobby stared at the ceiling in silence, mulling over his daughter’s words. Putting his old bedtime stories into writing was something that he’d never even considered. He still remembered them well enough, and it wasn’t as though he had anything to lose. > “Not a bad idea…” Bobby sat up with a grunt, then got to his feet. “...It’s something to consider, at least. But that can come later… right now, all I want to do is spend some time with my daughter.” > “Really…?” Robbie asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “But I’m grounded…” > “Tell you what,” Her father said with a grin, offering the girl his hand. “You don’t tell your mom I forgot to pick you up, and I’ll forget about the lamp… that thing was ugly, anyway. Deal?” Robbie looked at him in silence for a moment, then grinned and took his hand. > “Deal.” Her father helped her to her feet and she dusted herself off. > “Now I don’t know about you, but I could go for a burger… what do you say?” He offered. “And maybe afterwards, we could swing by the comic shop.” > “Seriously?! Damn, I should break shit more often,” Robbie said with a snicker as she followed her father out of the room, being sure to pick up her jacket along the way. > “...Don’t push your luck,” Bobby huffed, shutting the door behind them. “And watch your language, okay?”

[poetic-beats]

You'll be ok. If you feel your not, You can talk to me. Take care of yourself.

Thank you so much <3  I am just overwhelmed by everything right now.  Like my partner having no job by January. My mental health. My physical health like this year so far I’ve been told I have CNS dysfunction and FGID. I am being tested for Celiac. Oh and they found cysts on my ovaries then they tested and said it wasn’t what it could’ve been and now because of issues I’ve had my female GP who handles my contraception which is due up in January wants me to have another uhh thing to check the cysts and have another blood test because turns out I could actually have it..and it could affect my chances to have children naturally - I know what it was like for my mum she has the same condition and so if i have it I’m scared even though things are different now they know more and have better options its still like D: It is like seriously though I’ve got two new things wrong with me although they havent yet like found the cause of the CNS dysfunction all the specialist could say is I hit some markers for Fibromyalgia but not enough but in her medical professional opinion I do have some form of CNS dysfunction but just not likely fibromyalgia my mum took me to see this specialist first purely because she has Fibro herself so she thought well lets start with an appointment with a rheumatologist who would like be able to check for fibro and a few other condtions. So I kinda need to like now see I think the next step is a neuropsychologist but like I’ve been so stressed and ill right now trying to fight for my mental health treatment/therapy so I’ve not been like exactly thinking about making appointments for the CNS stuff. But it is impacting me it makes me get involuntary like twitches/jerks it feels like a jolt like a little electric jolt i guess down my body but not painful as such but it just makes my body go like suddenly my arms jerked to the left or Ive thrown the food in my hand across the room because my arm/wrist/hand w/e has suddenly twitched or w/e but sometimes i get the like electric like w/e feeling its hard to explain it like across my whole body from my head to my toes and at that point it can lead to me just sort of on and off twitching a bit more like less aggressively but more often in a space of time i usually end up sleeping it off so idk really I pretty much just always pass out asleep when I get that kind of feeling. And like I wanna do stuff to like help ease his worries about money and the burden on him to support us financially and support me emotionally. But I’m not fit to work like not even a minor part time job really because I’d be so unreliable with the way my body is. I am also affected by sensory issues and other things so it’s just not I couldnt realistically right now engage in work for someone.  So I am trying to do like online things but I don’t...I...just I am getting kinda overwhelmed by that too. Cos I dont know where to start what to do. Like I do but I dont you know? I mean...idk...Ive sold 3 pairs of sloth socks which was cool in the past like 2 weeks or is it 3 now since like i started like really seriously uploading to redbubble like before that I kept like uploading then removing my designs trying out different sites and so on I was trying to figure it out but I do now have it kinda figured out so that’s something. But now its like I’ve gotta get people to my freakin’ redbubble and its hard cos how an earth do i drive people to check out my store from the millions of others on the site. But also like I dont wanna like.. Idk I feel like and even though I have explained my situation on here I still kinda feel like I try to do it in a like not serious asking for help way in that i dont want it to come off as idk like I dont wanna be that person where its like i dont wanna be coming off as oh please help me feel sympathy towards me and feel sorry for me or pity me bs. I dont wanna be like appearing to be all I’m in desperate need pls help signal boost or buy to support me. Cos I’m not you know I have my parents to help we’ll be moving back in hopefully before xmas where I won’t have to pay rent. For me this is more about you know when my parents aren’t there I need to have an income for me and my partner hes disabled too...so full time jobs for the both of us is not likely especially if his EDS (edlher danlos syndrome) gets worse ya know?  So I suppose my worries arent like of imminent threat of anything but more like in the future we’ll be fucked if i cant set down the foundations now for the potential for a long term income from various online strategies. But just even thinking about the future and that far ahead fucking terrifies me.  Not only because of all this but because I never really thought about the future I didnt see one for myself as far as I was concerned I’d be dead or I’d be just...idk I couldnt even imagine a future or if I thought I’d make it I wouldnt really care you know because I didnt have like that light in me to want to live so it wasnt like I wanted to survive and thrive and i couldnt see a ‘happy ending’ for myself and now i can and I want to make that come true but of course its a bit hard to envisage a nice happy future with Kade when literally everything depends on having money to eat and have a roof over our heads etc and its just..UGH

I feel like trash too because I feel like my worth is valued by my output/labour and at the moment my output isn’t really bringing in cash right now so my output wouldnt exactly be deemed as ‘good’ idk its just weird its not like an I feel worthless thing like depression low self esteeem shit its more just a sort of social cultural consensus/belief that is ingrained that we are not really worth anything unless we’re contributing to society i.e working , paying taxes and buying things to reinvest in our economy etc etc..everything is about how much a human is worth in value of £ssss to big corporations and governments and rich people and idk its just like...they do have a point you know i cant just sit around and not do anything to contribute..because..then i feel like you know im not ‘sick enough’ to warrant that so im just in this limbo i guess completely self enforced by my mind which just makes it all the stupider but it is what it is. Venting this out has helped clear my mind some cos i mean at least its now out there in this void than just bouncing around my brain. Its why i write poetry too I guess idk why I just feel a release less tension SOMETIMES not all the time but sometimes it can help ease even if only slightly the chaos of my mind to just get it out there whether by chatting in person or writing it out like this just having it out there venting to someone or on a blog where people will read knowing like its not isolated within you still its relieving sometimes. So thanks for messaging me!  I hope you are having a good day so far! Idk timezones or where u r so it could be early there for you maybe your day is just starting..who knows! Its 2:37pm where I am right now though so I need to work  or try to...(yet again me feeling if i dont work constantly I be like failing at life) lol