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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 2 months

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Never Say Never

Chapter 15

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 8.5K

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Far later than she’d expected, you pulled into the driveway of your home. Dinner and coffee had turned into a stroll down the street to the local bar, The Stumble Inn, where the owner, Dan, loved a good play on words. A couple drinks, a lot of conversation, and quite a bit of laughter later, you'd all finally said your good nights, all of you heading off to your own vehicles for home.

The boys were probably already asleep considering it was pushing eleven. That was alright. The four of you were planning on a bike ride tomorrow afternoon so if Steve wanted, he could always just leave Jeremiah there. No point in waking the kid to drag him home simply to bring him back again.

Opening the front door, you stepped inside to find Steve on the couch, a rerun of Who’s the Boss playing on the tv. He turned to look over at you, his arms propped behind his head, giving you one of those glaringly bright smiles that made you feel like you needed to shield yourself, to bring a hand to your eyes to protect them.

“Hey.”

Dropping your purse on the table by the door, you made your way into the living room, smiling down at him. “Hey. Sorry I’m so late. We completely lost track of time.”

“That’s alright. I was expecting it. I told you that you were going to be later than you thought. Robin and Nancy love to talk. And with you being all shiny and new, they had endless things to ask you, I’m sure.”

Steve pushed himself up to sitting with his legs still out in front of him, opening his arms to you. You happily accepted his invite, your body liquefying into him when his arms came around you, pulling you into the warmth of his chest. Sighing contentedly, you wound your arms around his waist curling your legs underneath you, relieved that the awkwardness of earlier appeared to be forgotten.

“They should get jobs as interrogators. They definitely threw the book at me. I don’t know if there’s anything they don’t know about me at this point,” you joked, “including the unfortunately mortifying third grade talent show story.”

“Ohh, do tell. I’m intrigued now.”

“No. That one is better left unshared. Trust me. I don’t know why I even told them. I think your friends have some kind of superpower. I was running off at the mouth, story after story. I couldn’t seem to make myself stop. To be fair, they were shooting questions at me so fast I barely had time to stop and think. I’m stuck being friends with them forever now, you know. They have far too much dirt on me. Way too much they could blackmail me for. I fear I’ve made a grave mistake.”

Steve’s laugh rumbled beneath you, his fingers slipping into your hair, thumb pressing into your skin as it slid over the back of your neck. Your eyes slipped closed, your body practically humming under his touch. His other hand moved under your chin, lifting your face to his and a soft moan escaped you when his lips found yours, gently, tenderly.

You would never tire of his mouth, his touch, the way it set you aflame every single time. You wanted him in a way that was borderline dangerous. The way you wanted him was all consuming, like a fire raging through a forest, turning everything to ash in its wake. If it weren’t for the boys, you were certain you would lose your job because you would do nothing but spend hours in bed with this man.

But there were the boys to consider. It was hard to concentrate on that fact when Steve’s tongue was exploring your throat, his hand slipping under your shirt. Fingertips made rough from working with his hands teased your skin, his palms covering your breasts completely, kneading and squeezing until you were grinding helplessly against his thigh, gasping. But that little voice in the back of your head reminded you, brought you back to reality, the reality where you did not want either of your sons to walk in on this very blatant display in the middle of the living room.

“Steve…” you rasped, struggling through the haze of desire when his lips latched onto your throat, open mouthed kisses creating a path of destruction, obliterating everything that wasn’t him.

“Hmm?” he mumbled against your skin, rolling your nipples with his thumb and forefinger, the jolt of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

“We can’t.” It was a whimper, a whine because you didn’t want this to stop. You didn’t want to be the responsible mom right now. You wanted to take this man straight up to your bed, caution be damned. But you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t. You couldn’t have him staying over, couldn’t have Eli knowing the two of you had shared a bed, not until you were certain this was something that was going to last. You couldn’t put your son through that kind of heartbreak, not after everything he’d already lost.

“Why not?” Now his hands were creeping up your skirt, each one gripping an ample amount of your ass, pressing your center right against the delicious friction of his firm thigh.

“The boys…we can’t…the boys…”

Fuck. It was so hard to form a thought, to fight through the pleasure coursing through your very veins. His mouth teasing your earlobe, the delicious pulsing in your pussy with every press of his leg against you. You felt like a teenager. What the hell was happening to you? Were you seriously about to come just from dry humping a guy’s leg?

“But we can,” he growled, hands gripping your hips, flipping you over so your back was pressed against his chest. “Did I forget to mention they’re not here?”

“Wha…huh?” His hands slid along the insides of your thighs, pressing them open as they went. “Where are they?”

“Well, Jonathan showed up a few hours ago,” he explained, fingers slipping along the edge of your panties. “He said that Nancy had instructed him to come and get them. Repayment for me being so kind to watch them so you could go out with the girls.” One finger slid under the material, slipping through your already damp folds to toy with your clit. “They’re keeping them for the whole night so we can have some time alone. Isn’t that nice?”

“I…oh…uh-huh…”

Your head rolled back against his shoulder, that rubber band that was already stretched so thin within you stretching even more, threatening to snap at any moment as he circled, pinched, and slid over the very center of your pleasure. A rumble fell from Steve’s lips, his nose slipping over your jaw and down your neck. You were not going to last long. Not like this, not when you were already on the brink of destruction.

“Come on beautiful,” he urged, his thumb taking over the work on your clit as he slipped one large finger inside of you. “Say my name for me. You know how much I love it when you say my name for me.”

“Steve…” The word came out choked, one simple syllable that threatened to strangle you as your muscles tensed under his touch, your body ready to shatter completely.

“That’s my girl…wanna hear you screaming it, baby. No need to be quiet tonight.”

Oh shit. Those words…his girl, words you didn’t even know you wanted but you did. You wanted to make him say it again. You wanted to be his girl more than you'd ever wanted anything else at this moment. Everything in your world completely disappeared, shadowed by this man and the way he made you feel.

He got what he wanted. Because as he slid a second finger inside of you, his thumb playing you like the most beautiful song ever written, his name fell from your lips over and over. A crescendo of sound that began as a gasp and rose to a scream when that band finally snapped, your body taut, shaking, before collapsing back into him in a puddle of satisfaction.

“Jesus Christ, Steve…” you mumbled. “How are you so goddamn good…no, scratch that. I don’t want to know.”

He chuckled, arms wrapping around you, face nuzzling your hair, “Don’t worry, gorgeous, because nobody that came before you matters. They were all just practice leading up to the main attraction.” He nipped at your earlobe. “I’ve never wanted to make a girl come over and over again like I do you. The sounds you make, how beautiful you look, the way you say my name, it’s like a goddamn drug, honey. I’m completely hooked on you.”

Turning your body, you straddled him, feeling just how much he was hooked on you pressing into you. The thin fabric of his sweats and the lace of your panties was not creating much of a barrier and you fought back the urge to yank them off him and ride him right here on the couch. But not yet. There was something else you'd been wanting to do first, something that had been on your mind ever since your first encounter in her kitchen.

“Well, if I’m a drug then so are you, Steve Harrington, because I am completely addicted to you.”

“Oh yeah?” His hands settled on your hips, a smirk on his lips. “Is this the part where you fulfill my fantasy? You’re already in the perfect position.” He bucked his hips up and you gasped, hands dropping to his chest.

“Oh, I have every intention of fulfilling that fantasy but not just yet." Leaning forward, you caught his mouth with your own, your tongue gliding over his bottom lip teasingly. Your hands slid under the cotton fabric of his shirt, nails scratching gently down his chest, over his stomach. That little knot wound up within you again at the feel of that coarse hair against your fingers, tapering to a line leading you right where she wanted. Gripping the hem of his shirt, you tugged it over his head, tossing it across the room where it landed on a chair.

Steve’s lower lip jutted out playfully, “This doesn’t seem fair. You still have a top on.” Acquiescing to his request, you pulled your top off, sending it the same way as his. His hands slid up your back, fingers popping open your bra expertly, slingshotting it. “Much better.” One hand gripping you between the shoulder blades, he sat up, his mouth descending on your breasts.

“Yes…” you sighed, cradling his head against you, your hips rocking against his length once again.

“You’re so damn beautiful…”

You smiled, pushing him back down on the couch, wiggling your body down. It was your turn to drive him crazy. Your lips moved over his jaw, down his neck, your tongue tracing a trail over the artery there before your teeth nipped at his shoulder. He grunted, hips bucking when you kept going on your journey south, mouth exploring his chest, teeth raking over his nipples. Hot, wet kisses over his stomach while your hands gathered the material of his sweats and boxers, dragging them over his thighs until his cock was free, bouncing back against his stomach.

Your tongue ran over your lips as you settled onto your stomach between his legs. Steve’s eyes went wide, watching when you took his cock in your hand, dragging the tip of it across your lips. As your tongue darted across the already weeping slit, he hissed, head dropping back to the arm of the sofa.

“Jesus Christ, honey.”

Bolstered by his reaction, you used your hand to raise him up, your tongue running along the vein underneath, from the base to the tip before taking him into your mouth, swirling your tongue teasingly. With a heavy grunt, his hips rose from the couch in an attempt to get more of himself in your mouth.

Grinning around him, you continued your slow torture, only keeping the tip of him in the warmth of your mouth as one hand moved down to cradle his heavy sack, rolling his balls in your palm.

“Fuck…oh my god…honey, please…need more…”

His hands fisted at his sides and deciding you'd tormented him enough, you took the rest of him, as much as you could, working the base of him with your hand as you slowly worked the rest of him with your mouth. The sounds he was making, the animalist grunts and groans, the curses falling from his lips, were goddamn intoxicating. You'd never felt so powerful in your life as you did knowing you could reduce this beautiful man to a mewling mess with just your mouth and hands.

Steve’s fingers slid in your hair, his palms cupping the back of your head as he lifted his hips to match the rhythm of your mouth. You relaxed your throat, gagging slightly as he thrust even further into your throat. He paused, as if uncertain if what he’d done was okay, but when you dug your nails into the flesh of his thigh, lowering your mouth over him again, he took the hint, thrusting once again until your nose was nuzzling the coarse hair at the base of him.

“Shit…honey, I’m…fuck, I’m so close…fuck, stop…I…don’t wanna…not in your mouth…”

Releasing him with an audible pop, you rose to your feet, offering him your hand. He tilted his head in confusion, the look so adorable your heart tugged. How could one man be both the sexiest thing you'd ever seen and the most adorable thing you'd ever laid eyes on at the same time?

“If I’m going to ride you, let’s do it properly…in my bed.”

“Oh…yeah, okay…”

He scrambled, pulling his pants back up as he took your hand, following your lead up the stairs. You'd barely made it into the room when you slammed your hands into his chest firmly, sending him onto his back on the bed. Wasting no time, you slipped your underwear and skirt off before dragging his sweats and boxers down off his legs and onto your floor.

The smile he gave you was so soft, so heart melting, his hands gently cupping your face when you crawled up his body, straddling his hips. He opened his mouth and your heart stuttered in your chest, terrified but also thrilled at what might come out. But just that fast he closed it again, pressing his eyes shut tight.

Brushing away that hope that had flared and dwindled so quickly, you gripped him in your hand, slowly lowering herself down over him. Your warmth wrapped around him like a glove, welcoming him as if he belonged there. You sucked in air, your fingers slipping through the hair on his chest, your teeth biting down on your lower lip.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Steve growled as you rocked against him, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips as he met each movement.

“Steve…Steve…Jesus Christ, Steve…”

“You look just as beautiful as I knew you would. Come on, honey. Take what you need. You can have whatever you want. Give you whatever you want, honey.”

“Touch me,” you gasped, whimpering when his thumb found your clit, teasing as you pressed your hands into the mattress, arching your back, your muscles clenching as you came down on his cock again and again. “Yes. Right there. Oh god…so good…”

Your hips rolled into a circle and he grunted, “Yes, baby. Keep doing that. Shit.” His other hand came to your breast, squeezing, pinching, teasing, touching you just like you wanted and you moaned his name again. “Gonna come for me, beautiful?”

“Yes…so close…don’t stop…”

“Oh, I won’t, honey. Don’t worry. Look at me, beautiful. Wanna see you.”

You struggled, working to keep pace as you pulled yourself straight, your hands gripping his shoulders for purchase. Opening your eyes, you looked down, that band in you stretching farther than should be possible as the heat in his gaze consumed you. His name ripped from your throat, so loudly you were sure the people in the next town could hear.

Your body turned to goo, wax from a hot candle sliding down the edges of you to pool on the mattress around you. You had nothing left, your legs shaking and Steve knew, taking over for you. His hands grabbed onto your hips as he plunged himself up and into you before holding her down against him, a roar emitted through gritted teeth, painting your insides with his own release before bringing you with him as you both collapsed.

Your cheek pressed against his sweat-slicked chest, the hair there tickling your skin softly. His fingers trailed over your back, your bodies heaving as you both struggled to catch your breath.

“Holy shit…” he muttered. “So much better than I imagined.”

“Yeah…I…Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think I can walk.”

His rumbling laugh shook your bodies as his arms held you, rolling you so you were side by side, your body still cradled against his. His lips pressed against your forehead.

“Good thing you don’t have to. Honey, you’re so damn amazing. I…this…” He paused, his throat moving with a hard swallow, as if he were forcing down words he didn’t want to say to leave his mouth, banishing them to the darkness where they couldn’t see the light of day.

“Yeah?” you pressed hopefully, tilting your head back to look at him, wishing for him to say it. To say the words that had been torturing you for the last few hours, the words you were terrified to say until he did.

“I’m just so damn happy. I have never been this happy with anyone. I…” He stopped, eyes squeezing shut. “I like you a lot.”

Your heart squeezed tightly. No, of course he wasn’t going to say those words. Hadn’t you just thought how crazy it would be to say them so soon? Of course he wasn’t feeling any of that already.

“I like you a lot too.” You forced a smile, not wanting him to see the disappointment on your face as you nuzzled down into him, the top of your head tucked under his chin.

___________________________________________________________

Steve blinked against the harsh sunlight coming in through the window, one hand covering his eyes to ward off the glare. Last night came back to him in a burst of images that raced over the backs of his eyelids. The warmth of your mouth, the sight of you above him, your hair falling down your back, the gentle smile that curved your lips up on each side as you fell asleep nestled against his chest, your fingers toying with the coarse hair there as you hummed contentedly.

Rolling his head, he looked down to find you still there but at some point in the night you'd both moved. Now your back was nestled against him, your ass pressed deliciously against him, explaining why he’d woken up with an erection. Winding his arms around you tightly, his lips explored the curve of your shoulder, the hollow of your throat, delighted when you moaned softly, wiggling in his grasp.

“Good morning.” Your voice was husky, deep and raspy, choked with sleep first thing in the morning, just one more thing that Steve couldn’t help but enjoy about you. He would never tire of discovering new things about you. Each new thing only made him…

Love…that word was beginning to be a thorn in his side. The amount of times he’d had to bite his lip last night to keep from saying it was going to leave a bruise. The more time he spent with you, the more time he spent inside you, was making it harder and harder not to scream it out, consequences be damned.

“Good morning.” His nose nuzzled into your neck, lips tracing a line, following it over your shoulder. “I swear, this is the best damn thing to wake up to. You are the best damn thing to wake up to. So much better than a slobbery dog demanding breakfast.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” His fingers skimmed over your soft belly to the curve of your hip, squeezing the ample flesh there. “I could really get used to this, honey. You in my bed…”

“Well, technically this is my bed,” you teased, sighing when his hand dipped into the apex between your thighs.

“My bed, your bed…I really don’t care as long as I get to have you in a bed,” he growled, his lips wrapping around the skin at the hollow of your throat, sucking hard until you moaned deeply. “Jesus, I love the sounds you make. Wanna make you make them all the time.”

“Steve,” you protested, no real challenge in your voice. “Don’t we have to go get the boys?”

“We could push it just a bit.” Using his arm to push himself up, he pressed you onto your back into the mattress. Wiggling his eyebrows, he grinned. “I think Nance and Jonathan would understand if we waited just a couple more hours.”

“A couple hours, huh? You have big plans?”

“Oh honey, a couple hours is not nearly enough time for the plans I have for you.”

How about forever? It was on the tip of his tongue but he just couldn’t say it. He couldn’t risk it, not now, not when he was in so deep that he was drowning in you.

___________________________________________________________

An hour later, clad in only his boxer shorts, Steve was in the kitchen cooking eggs and toast while you took a shower. Unfortunately, human weakness reared its head and other biological needs needed to be met. They had made it known when your stomach had started loudly rumbling while he was buried deep inside you while he pinned your wrists down with his hands.

As much as he hadn’t wanted to pull himself away, he’d begrudgingly done so. The girl needed to eat. While he wanted nothing more than to lock the two of you in that room for the rest of the day, you were going to need your energy for the bike ride he had planned for everybody this afternoon. He couldn’t have you passing out on your bike from low blood sugar.

He slid the spatula under the perfectly cooked over-easy eggs, sliding them onto a plate. Grabbing the two pieces of toast that had just popped up, he added them and set the plate on the table. He added the butter, salt, and pepper and was just going to pour your coffee when there was a knock at the front door.

“Well shit,” muttered Steve, glancing down at his very bare chest. Grabbing his shirt from the chair in the living room where it had been tossed last night, he hastily pulled it over his head, figuring it would have to do if he wasn’t going to leave whoever was on the other side wondering if anyone was home.

Opening the door, he found a woman on the other side. Her blue eyes went wide as she took in the sight of him in the doorway, her hand running over her sleek gray bob. The flowy black pants and floral buttoned top she was wearing seemed like a strange choice for a Saturday, leaving him with the impression that she was a professional of some kind. But you hadn’t mentioned anyone dropping by.

“Hello,” he smiled pleasantly. “Can I help you?”

“I highly doubt it.” Her words were sharper than seemed necessary considering Steve had never seen this woman before in his life. “Is my daughter-in-law around?”

Shit. So that’s who this was. Justin’s mom and Steve had just answered the door wearing nothing but boxers and a t-shirt on a Saturday morning. That didn’t leave much doubt to what kind of situation this was and he wasn’t sure if this woman even knew about him. Had you told her about him? Or was she being blindsided, having the new guy that had replaced her dead son shoved in her face?

“You must be Mrs. Randall. I…uh…I’m Steve Harrington. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He stammered the words. He would have offered her his hand but his palms were suddenly very sweaty. How did one handle a situation like this?

“Oh, I know exactly who you are. Although why you’re standing in my son’s house in your underwear is quite a mystery to me.”

A nervous laugh rose up in him at her words, her eyes narrowing, head tilted as she studied him. He felt like a specimen under a microscope and judging from the way she was looking at him, he was not measuring up.

“Well, you see…I…well, Y/N and I…I’m guessing she hasn’t told you about me.”

“No. She didn’t but my grandson did. Imagine my surprise when I had to hear from a child that his mother has a new boyfriend.” She gave him a tight smile, the kind people usually displayed when they were trying to hide how they really felt, but this woman did not seem to be trying to hide anything. Disdain was rolling off her in waves so strongly it threatened to knock him off his feet. “You really think it’s appropriate for you to be spending the night this soon? Have you even bothered to consider Eli’s feelings in the matter? How it might make him feel that some man is sleeping in the bed that his mother and father used to share? That doesn’t seem a bit tacky to you?”

Steve opened his mouth, having no idea how he was going to respond but feeling like he needed to. The pressure of a thousand stares, like being on stage waiting to see if you’d nail it or fall flat on your face, was heavy on his chest. But he was saved when you came bouncing down the stairs.

“Something smells good. Did you cook break…” You came to an abrupt stop, hands gripping the towel you'd been drying your hair with when you saw the scene in front of you. Steve in his boxers, looking like a mouse staring down a cat. Judith, the cat, glaring at you both, with her hands on her hips, claws and teeth ready to slash and shred. “Judith…what are you doing here?”

“Well, after Eli dropped that particular very unpleasant and shocking bomb on me yesterday and you refused to talk to me, I decided we needed to have a conversation about this current situation.”

“You could have just called…” you began but Judith quickly cut you off.

“And what? Have you ignore my calls like you so often do? I don’t think so.” Judith stepped around Steve with a wave as if he were nothing but an annoying gnat she was wishing to swat. “No. I think not. I demand an explanation. I believe I am owed that. Precisely why did my grandson tell me that this man, who I don’t even know, who he barely even knows, is going to be his father soon?”

“Shit…” muttered Steve, earning a harsh glare from the woman that reminded him way too much of Mrs. Click from high school. He melted back against the wall, trying to make himself small and invisible to her unapproving gaze.

So this was why she came. She felt her son’s very memory was threatened by the presence of Steve. She thought that you and him were moving too fast. Of course she did if Eli was already talking about Steve being his dad. But it was just that, talk. The kid had been hoping for it before they’d even started dating.

“Mrs. Randall, I think this has just been a really big misunderstanding.”

“Well, I was rather hoping so until I showed up to find you here in your underwear, clearly having spent the night. I mean, really.” She sighed, tossing her arms in the air. “You find this kind of behavior appropriate with a child in the house?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Eli isn’t in the house,” you snapped.

“And where exactly is he?”

“He’s with my ex-wife and her husband,” Steve answered, folding his arms, his confidence returning now that he saw you weren't going to quaver under the glare of this lady.

“Strangers!” shrieked Judith. “You left my grandson with complete strangers?”

“They’re not strangers. I told you, Eli is best friends with Steve’s son, Jeremiah. I know Jeremiah’s mom and her husband. In fact, I was just out with her and some other women last night.”

“Oh! And where was my grandson while you were out living it up and having fun like some teenager with no responsibilities?”

“He was with me. I took care of the boys so she could actually enjoy a night off.” Steve’s sympathy for this woman was quickly waning each time she opened her mouth. “I made them dinner and we played some games and watched a movie. Then Jonathan showed up and offered to take the boys overnight so she and I could have some time alone. I have never slept over when he’s been here.”

“Really? Because according to Eli, you and his mother had a sleepover just last week.”

Your teeth clenched together. “The boys were having a sleepover. We were watching a movie and fell asleep on the couch. Nothing happened.” Your eyes caught Steve’s, the two of you clearly remembering what did happen, what almost happened before you were interrupted, but it was none of this woman’s business. “And whatever happened or didn’t happen isn’t really any of your concern. Eli is my son.”

“He’s my grandson! None of my concern? It’s none of my concern that you’re acting like some rampant whore around him? That you’re just choosing to leave him with strange people so you can run around with your friends and have a good time like you don’t even have a child?”

“Whoa! Hey!” Steve stepped into her, finger pointing at her face. “You have no right to come in here calling her names like that. She is a damn good mom. She’s done all of this herself for a long time and if occasionally she needs a night to herself, she’s more than earned it.”

If someone could actually explode, he was pretty certain this woman would be doing just that right now. Her nostrils flared, eyes blazing, mouth contorted into an ugly sneer as she stared him down.

“Just who in the hell do you think you are?”

“I think I’m her boyfriend. I think I’m her person. The person she’s chosen to have in her life right now. And I think I’m the person who’s not going to stand here and let you talk to her like this. I understand that it has to be hard for you to see her with someone else, to think about another guy being in your grandson’s life. But that’s not a choice you get to make. It’s hers. So unless you’re willing to have a civil conversation and listen then there’s the goddamn door.”

“I tried to help you. I offered to let you and Eli move in with me and you refused and now look at this mess you’ve created.”

“This isn’t a mess. This is my life.”

“And some life it is. I knew when Justin brought you home that he was making a mistake. You whispered all those lies about how much you loved him. I knew you never did.”

Your mouth dropped, a small gasp of pain escaping your lips, making Steve want to smack a woman for the first time in his life. Tears filled your eyes but you straightened your spine, refusing to allow Judith to make you fall apart.

“That was never a lie, Judith. I did love Justin. I still do.”

“You loved him so much that you’re so ready to just replace him and move on. To allow some other man in his house, in his bed, in his role as Eli’s father.”

“There has not been any talk of Steve being Eli’s father,” you argued. “We are dating. There’s not even been talk of moving in together. All of that is coming from Eli. He adores Steve and he’s a kid and he just wants what other kids have. Can’t you see that?”

“He already has a father,” Judith whimpered, quickly losing steam as her grief began to take the wheel from her anger.

“He does and I will never let him forget Justin. We talk about him every night before he goes to bed. I show him pictures and videos. I tell him stories. We order pizza every Friday because it’s what we used to do when Justin was home.” Those tears that had been lingering on your lash line now broke free, spilling down your cheeks as you held your hands out in front of you, begging Judith to understand. “We go to the apple orchard and the pumpkin farm every fall because it was a tradition we started with him. I show him his favorite movies and we listen to his favorite music. Eli knows all the words to The Most Beautiful Girl in the World by Prince and he knows how Justin used to sing it to me every time he’d return from deployment and we’d dance around the living room. Judith, Eli will never forget Justin because I can’t ever forget Justin. You think I don’t grieve for him still? Sometimes it hits me and the pain is so bad that I double over with it. But am I really sentenced to spend the rest of my life alone at thirty-two because the universe was cruel enough to take my happy ending away from me?”

Judith actually looked stunned. In the ten minutes Steve had known her, even he was shocked to find her speechless. This did not seem like a woman who ran out of words.

Then the two women were hugging and crying. He stood to the side, unsure of what to do. He had the equivalent of emotional whiplash. He’d been so angry, ready to storm the castle and defend you to the death if need be, and now it didn’t seem necessary. You clung to each other, sobs shaking your bodies.

“I’m sorry,” Judith sniffed, shaking her head, hands wrapped around your shoulders. “I’m sorry. I just…it’s so unfair that he got taken from us and then to know you’re with…” She jerked her head toward Steve. Well, alright. She might be apologizing but apparently she still wasn’t fond of him. “To know Eli may see someone else as his…I just couldn’t bear it. I fear I will be the only one to remember my son.”

“You won’t.” Your hands found Judith’s forearms, hanging on. “I could never forget him and I will never let Eli forget him. I promise you that. We…we don’t even know what this is yet.” Steve would be lying if he said that didn’t sting just a bit. “It’s so new. Who knows where it’s going but if it moves in that direction, Eli will still know who his dad is. And no matter what happens, you will always be his grandmother and you will always have a place in his life.”

Judith nodded slowly, her fist coming to her mouth. The woman appeared to at least be trying to accept it. Steve wasn’t sure what the history was here. He didn’t know what kind of relationship she and you had in the past but he hoped, if for nothing else than the sake of Eli, that she could.

“Can I…would it be okay if I came into town for his first game?”

“Of course. Eli would love it if you were there.”

Steve wasn’t sure he would. He wasn’t sure he wanted to spend any more time with this woman ever. But this wasn’t his decision. He knew when he started this thing that you came with some baggage. And if the heaviest load was some uptight ex mother-in-law, well, he’d just have to learn to heft it if he planned on sticking around.

“Okay. Well, then…I guess I’ll just go. It’s a long drive back. But maybe I could go pick him up and…”

You cut her off, “Steve and I are picking up the boys and taking them on a bike ride. They’ve been looking forward to it all week. So today isn’t a good day. If you would have called first I could have told you that. I could have told you all of this and saved you the drive.”

“Right. Next time I’ll call as long as you plan on answering.”

“I will answer as long as I’m not busy.”

Judith’s mouth pinched up again, the crying camaraderie apparently forgotten now. Wiping away any sign of weakness or vulnerability with her fingers under her eyes, she straightened her spine and turned for the door. It was disorienting how quickly she looked like she hadn’t just been falling apart, completely reserved once again.

“I will see you in a couple weeks then.”

“See you in a couple weeks.”

And then she was gone. You exhaled, your shoulders and head dropping forward, as if all the strength you'd held in to handle Judith had rushed from you in one breath. Your arms wrapped around your middle, reminding him of Eli after school just yesterday.

Steve stood still, unsure of what to do. Did you want him to comfort you? Did you want him to leave you alone? Should he offer to just head and get the boys and come back for you later so you could have some time to process everything that had just happened?

“I’m sorry.” The words were spoken so softly he almost didn’t catch them. “She loves to sneak up on me at the worst times. I should have seen this coming. She’s been itching to have it out with me ever since Eli told her you were my boyfriend.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, shrugging. It wasn’t, not really. He wasn’t sure how he felt after that whole exchange. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” you stated firmly. “I really don’t. Not right now anyway. Can we just eat?” Lifting your head, you pasted on a smile. “That coffee smells amazing and I could really use some right now.”

“Oh…uh…yeah…”

You breezed past him into the kitchen, leaving him standing there wondering what in the hell had just happened and what it meant that you didn’t know what this was between you.

____________________________________________________________

The boys were down on the sand, building a fortress from rocks and driftwood that they collected for their superheroes. It was still far too cold to even consider stepping foot in the water. The day was warm, the sun beating pleasantly down on their skin, but it would take months for the lake to absorb that heat, usually not pleasant enough for a swim until late June or even early July.

You sat on the blanket you'd brought with you to sit on while you enjoyed the picnic lunch that Steve had packed. Sandwich crusts, chip crumbs, and stray blueberries laid forgotten on plates as the boys declared themselves full in favor of running off to play. You took a sip of her iced tea, glancing over at Steve.

After Judith’s impromptu interruption, ruining what otherwise had been an absolutely perfect night and morning, he’d been rather quiet and awkward. He didn’t appear mad but disoriented, like a child who’d fallen off their bike after removing the training wheels and feared getting back on because they didn’t trust themselves. It was like he’d lost his footing and couldn’t find it again. And you knew it was your fault.

Judith just had such a negative impact on you and you were so exhausted from constantly trying to convince the woman that you w were doing a good job of raising Eli. Was it easy? No. Did you screw up a lot? Yes. But at the end of the day your son was happy, healthy, and loved. Wasn’t that what mattered? Why could that never be enough? Why did every decision you ever made have to come into question by a woman whose son joined the military just to get away from her?

“Steve…”

“Hmm?” His head turned toward you and you could see how hard he was working to keep an impassive look on his face, to not show how he was truly feeling. What was he feeling? Was he angry? He had every right to be after the way Judith had treated him, after you yourself had dismissed him, telling him you didn’t want to talk.

“About earlier…”

He cut you off, lifting his hand in front of him, “It’s fine. Really. You said you didn’t want to talk about it so you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s not fine.”

“It is. It’s obviously a tough situation for you that I don’t know anything about so…”

“But you should,” you stated firmly. Rising to your knees, you shifted until you were in front of him, taking both of his hands in your own. “You should. If we’re doing this…being an us, then you should know. Judith is difficult but she is a part of my life and she isn’t going anywhere. She’s Eli’s grandmother and that means that you’re going to have to deal with her sometimes so you should know our history. You should know exactly what you’re walking into.”

“But we don’t even know what this is, right? Isn’t that what you said? We’re not that serious so why do I need to know anything important about you?”

Ouch. His words hit their mark, exactly as he’d meant them to based on the tone he’d used. A missile he’d launched, his own hurt weaponized and aimed directly for you, successfully obliterating its target. You dropped down onto your heels as he pulled his hands back from you. His hand came to the back of his neck, rubbing, as if he could wipe away the tension that had appeared between them.

“Shit. Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“Yes you did.”

“No. I didn’t.” His cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk with a frustrated exhale. “I want to know everything about you. I do. I want to know it all, the good, the bad, and everything in between. I just…when you said that…”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Is that how you feel? That you don’t know what we are? I mean, I guess I just need to know what this is. I thought we were on the same page but maybe we’re not. What do you want here, honey? Is this all just fun for you? Is this a casual thing? Are you serious about us or should I be preparing to have my heart stomped all over?”

Those beautiful eyes were begging you for an answer, for the answer he wanted. And he had it. He had all of you. He had every piece of you that you had to offer. But you didn’t know how much to say. He had no idea how completely gone for him you already were, how you dreamed of the future with him, what it would look like, the four of you together.

Your eyes drifted over to the boys, yelling and giggling as Lex Luthor and his henchmen tried to attack the Fortress of Solitude they’d built from whatever they could find on the beach. You could picture this, days, months, years of this…the two of you sitting back and enjoying your boys together. Watching them grow up, birthday parties and Christmases, Steve helping them with their ties for school dances, teaching them how to drive. Nights together watching movies and playing games. You could see it so clearly in your mind but you were terrified that if you shared all that with him he would leave a blazing path through this forest as he ran as far and as fast as he could.

“Honey?” he prompted when you'd been silent for so long.

“What do you want?” you asked, turning the tables on him, placing the ball in his court.

“What?”

“What do you want from this? Do you see this as something that has a future? Do you see us together six months from now? A year from now? Ten years from now? Or in three months will I be just another in a long line of heartbroken exes?”

Steve reared back as if you'd just slapped him across the face. And maybe it had been an insensitive question but you felt it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Steve had been in numerous relationships throughout his life. Robin had shared that he latched on and fell fast because he was so desperate to be loved. Was that what this was?

You felt like he really liked you, like he truly cared about you. But was it just his past traumas causing him to act like that? Causing him to feel things that weren’t really there yet?

“Do you seriously not know?” he demanded. When you just looked at him, he groaned. “How do you not know how I feel about you? This isn’t even in the ballpark of casual for me. I told you I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel for you.”

“But how can you be sure? Robin said…”

“Robin said what? That I love too quickly because of my messed up childhood bullshit? Because my parents didn’t love me enough, I’m always looking for it elsewhere?”

“I mean, she may have said something like that.”

“And she’s not wrong. I have in the past. I stayed with Nancy because I was desperate for a family, a real family. I was desperate to make it work, to be successful where my parents weren’t. But I’m not twenty anymore. I’m thirty-two and I am well aware of my faults. I didn’t even see what I was doing then but I do now. I know every relationship I’ve ever had wasn’t really love. It was…I don’t know. Me just settling, searching for something, anything that would make me feel whole. But I’ve never found it. I’ve never felt it until you. I think you’re what I’ve been searching for. I’ve spent my whole life waiting for someone like you.”

This was the second time he’d said that to you and it didn’t fail to rock you to your very core once again. It shook your very foundation to know that this beautiful, perfect man seemed to think that you were the thing he’d been missing in his life, that you were the missing piece to the puzzle that he’d been hopelessly searching for.

Your eyes roamed over his face, the flecks of gold in his eyes brought out by the sun, the freckles like angel kisses lovingly placed on his skin, those plump lips that girls would pay thousands of dollars to have. That word, that damn word, so simple, four letters, one syllable, was driving its way up your throat, desperate to be spoken.

Your hands slid over his jaw, softly, gently, as if you were holding delicate treasure that must be protected, because you were. His Adam’s apple bobbed, the muscles in his neck tensing, as he waited for you to reply to the truths he’d just laid before you.

“This isn’t casual for me either. I…I know my situation is different. I wasn’t searching all my life. I found…but he’s gone and when I lost Justin, I resigned myself to the fact that he was it. He had been my one shot at happiness and love and all that comes with it. But then here you came and you barreled through all of that doubt like a wrecking ball.” Your eyes slipped closed as you willed yourself to have the courage to jump off the edge, to soar through the air with nothing but hope that he would catch you instead of leaving you to hit the ground. “You snuck up on me and there is nothing just fun or casual about this because I…I love you.”

His eyebrows crept toward his forehead, every color in the spectrum dancing through his eyes that were now as wide as the moon and just as spectacular. You held your breath, your teeth worrying over your bottom lip. But then, as if in slow motion, his lips parted, curving into a slow smile that consumed his entire face, those little crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. His fingers slid into your hair, pulling you to him, his forehead pressing against yours as he whispered, “You do?”

“I do. I know it’s really soon. I wasn’t even sure I should say it. I realized it yesterday and it terrified me but it also…I don’t know. It just felt right, like something just shifting into the place it belonged all along. I told myself I wasn’t going to say it, that I was going to wait.” Your eyes squeezed shut nervously. “I was going to wait until you said it and I hope it doesn’t scare you. You don’t have to say it back. I don’t want you to say it because you think you have to. I just…I need you to know that I am all in. I am not going anywhere. I have already dove in way too deep. There’s no going back now.”

“I love you, too.”

“Don’t…please don’t say it just because I…”

“I’m not.” His fingers trailed down over your arms, linking his fingers with yours and bringing your interlocked hands to his chest. “I’m not. I’ve been trying not to say it too. I didn’t want to push you. I know this is hard for you. I know this is the first time you’ve been with anybody since your husband passed. I wanted to take things at your pace, follow your lead. I was waiting for you to say it first. But I do. I love you. I think I’ve loved you ever since that night I brought pizza over. And yeah, that’s crazy and it makes no sense because we barely knew each other but it’s true. I love everything I already know about you and I want to spend my life getting to know everything I don’t.”

“You…your life…?”

“Shit. Was that too much? I’m not about to pull out a ring or anything. I’m not asking you to promise the rest of your life to me. I just…I just meant…”

“Steve,” you laughed, pressing your lips against his to silence him. “No. It wasn’t too much. I know what you meant. I mean, we can’t really say we’re all in if we’re not expecting this to last forever, right?”

“Right.” He grinned, releasing your hands to wrap his arms around you and pull you in close. You sat between his legs, your back nestled into his chest, settling into place right where you belonged as the two of you watched your boys run down the sand.

Chapter 16

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violetmina · 10 months

Text

Chokehold - Ch. 10

Chokehold Masterlist

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Pairing: Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,067

Warning: Swearing, adult themes, mentions of bodily harm, blood, and good ol’ Butcher himself.

A/N: Honestly, this chapter is basically a whole lot of whump and comfort. And despite my best efforts, Butcher might be a bit OOC for it. Nonetheless, I hope you guys enjoy.

"Jesus, Butcher!"

With a flurry of fingers you snatch your phone from the floor before you can step on it, discarding it on the counter to approach the bloody man. You turn on the faucet after seizing a washcloth from one of the drawers, your stomach clenching at the sight of so much red swirling down the drain. It's then you finally notice your first aid kit on the other side of the sink, already half gutted by your unexpected visitor.

He's awake and something akin to alert. But you can tell that Butcher isn't processing on all cylinders. It's not until you wring out the cloth and turn to him that he catches your intent. He bats at your hand when you reach to wipe at the left side of his face. "Nah, nah. Stop. Stop! I don' need fuckin' motherin'!"

"No, but you could use a hand," you quip with strained patience.

"I told ya, I got it!"

Both of you swear when he reaches for the first aid and his bloody hand slips on the edge of the basin, nearly sending him into the mirror. You grab his belt and begin to gently tug him back towards the toilet. "C'mon, Billy. Sit down, just for a min-"

"Fuck off! I can-!"

"Sit!"

He glares at you through his seeping war paint. He grunts when you give a good yank on his belt, causing him to totter before he begrudgingly slumps onto the toilet lid. The glare grows into a full-on man pout, and in any other circumstance you might have laughed. Instead, you nudge one of his boots to the side with your foot and stand between his knees. You begin cleaning at his temple, making quick but gentle work of trying to find the source of blood.

"I'd have done it me self just fine," he grumbles when you clear around his eye. "Wasn't expecting you home this early anyway."

"Early? Butcher it's late. It's been nearly twenty-four hours since you left the office."

The pout gives way to confusion. "Has it really?," he asks, more to himself than you. He smears blood from the face of his watch and squints at the time. "Christ. S'pose you're right."

"What happened, Billy? How'd you end up in my bathroom like this?"

"Well I let myself in."

The groggy smirk he gives you is a double-edged sword. You're not certain if it's an indication that he's fairly ok, or if he's using humor to deflect. You take a slow, deep breath before replying, "I can see that. What happened after you left the hospital last night?"

"What'd MM tell ya?"

"He told me about the girl. No one has seen you since then. I'm asking you."

The biting edge of worry begins to gnaw at your guts as you rinse the cloth and try to clean his cheeks, what you can dab out of his beard. What if his head injury is worse than you thought? How impaired might his memory be?

A look of concentration flits in his eyes before he finally speaks. "Tracked down the club she told us about. Paid their security a little visit. Was waiting to be led back to their surveillance room when I got ambushed."

"By whom? Vought?"

"Not Vought," he winces when you swipe into his hairline. "Couldn't've gotten there ahead of me like that. I think Walsh used Vought's squawker to stay ahead of the company lackeys when they went snooping. But now he's gonna know somebody else is digging up his side hustle. Bastards he hired looked like third party thugs."

You rinse the cloth again and begin gingerly sweeping through his hair, his wince your first clue of where his wound may be. Your free hand works at parting the thick, sodden strands. "You mean he's hired people not part of Vought, to cover his tracks, right?"

"Believe so. They didn't act like the usual company muppets. Fuckin' hell, love!" He hisses before sending you an annoyed glance. "Don't mind a hair-pulling kink but you're fucking scalping me here!"

"I'm sorry. You're clotting so bad it's matting. I need you to move to sit on the edge of the tub."

"What? Why?"

"Please don't make this any harder," you sigh, gripping his belt again to help him shuffle over to the lip of the bath. Once he's seated and balanced to your liking, you unhook the shower head and start a slow warm flow. "I have to get some of the blood out of your hair. I can't see your scalp."

"Should probably clean this one first," Butcher grits as he starts fiddling with his shirt.

You turn from the water with a frown. "Clean what one f-? Oh my god!"

A knot of nausea squeezes your belly at the sight that appears when he slips off the left side of his shirt. The rivers of blood trace from his fingertips up to just under the end of his clavicle. There in front of the socket is a lumpy, pocket-like wound just under the skin from which the blood oozes, a long gouge trailing back from it towards his sternum like a thin, shallow comet tail. As his fingers begin to prod about the lump you realize that it is a pocket, and in it-.

"You didn't tell me you were shot!" You drop the shower head and reach for some of the clean gauze still left in the first aid kit. When you turn back, it's just in time to watch him squeeze the pocket with gritted teeth and watch the bullet slip out. He fumbles with a pant of relief as it drops into his slick palm. Before you can even process, he gives it a feeble toss over your shoulder. It clatters in the sink.

"Least it wasn't a hollow point," he mumbles. "Woulda been real messy."

"No. Nuh-uh," you stammer finally. "I'm taking you-."

"Nowhere." Butcher manages a steely look in your direction. "Can't go to the hospital. They'll be looking for me."

"Ok. Maybe if I call MM then-"

"Not doing that either. We split at the ER for a reason." Then almost under his breath, "Shouldn't have even come here."

You dart forward, cursing as you press the gauze against the wound firmly. He manages to sneak his right hand under yours to take over. "Calm down, it was more of a graze. Superficial. Hardly needs packing."

"Calm down? Any deeper and this-!" You cut off at the realization; if it had entered a mere inch or so further back it likely would have torn through the top of his lungs, his lower windpipe. Not wanting to dwell on it, you glare at his reckless face before ripping through your kit for packing, a sterile q-tip and an ampoule of sterile water. You pry his fingers and gauze back long enough to clean around the shallow pocket, trying to rinse without saturating. Then follow suit on the graze. "Don't know how the hell you got so lucky," you spit as you place the miniscule amount of packing needed into the bullet hole once the bleeding had been staunched. "Didn't even know this was possible."

"Nah. Seen weirder in my bootneck days," he says with a lopsided shrug, holding the left side still as you apply a dry dressing.

"I don't wanna know." Again, you rinse the cloth, which now is tinted a stubborn pink and set to cleaning off his arm. When he tries to take it from you, you snatch it back. "You're going to let me finish. Now what did you mean? Why did you come here?"

"I shoulda gone to my place," he admits quietly, eyeing the cloth in a way that tells you he is not going to fully cooperate. "Just couldn't quite get there on foot."

His skin finally loses its sanguinous sheen and you abandon the cloth in the sink for a fresh clean one. Setting it aside on the edge, you reach back down into the tub and retrieve the shower head. He attempts to slip it from your fingers but you manage to evade. "I'm almost done, Billy. How about you chill for five minutes of your life?"

"I think I can manage washing myself," he snaps.

"Didn't say you couldn't. You need to mind your shoulder though." You maneuver back between his knees. "If it doesn't make you too dizzy, you need to tilt your head back. Let's see if I can keep from soaking your new dressing. I can't speak for your shirt."

"Oh God forbid you get me bloodstained shirt a little wet." Butcher slips the right side off with a shrug and dangles the shirt between you with his good arm and a bit of exasperation. He tosses it onto the floor, next to his jacket in the corner you realize, before trying yet again to snatch the shower head. He nearly falls off the edge of the tub in the process and you bite back an expletive when you help right him again with your free hand on the back of his neck.

"Please, Billy." It comes out soft, almost tired.

He scowls at you for a moment. You almost wonder if he had heard your plea over the water. Then finally he grips the edge of the tub and slowly tilts his head back.

You dive in before he can change his mind, moving your hand from his neck to his hairline to block water from running into his face. In mere seconds your bath resembles your sink, bloody water dripping in little streams from the back of his skull. There had been many times over the past couple months your fingers had itched with want to run through Butcher's unruly locks. But you never pictured it being like this, easing and crumbling clots from his hair, fingertips only ghosting the roots for fear of pulling at the injured scalp beneath.

Briefly there had been a moment where you thought he might be coming around. But you still catch glimpses of it in his eyes, the brain fog that rolls in and out like a tide. When he begins to lean too far back and blindly reaches out to catch at your waist instead of the tub, you don't comment. But your worry grows in the sound of the running water, then doubles in size at a sudden thought.

"Please tell me I'm not about to find a bullet here, too."

The corner of his mouth curls and the brain fog ebbs out of his eyes. Mischief replaces it. "Don't be daft. I'm not a zombie out for your brains. Those twats were piss-poor shots anyway."

"Your spanking new dressings say otherwise," you deadpan. A second after and you finally find it. A long jagged gash arcing just behind his left temple and back, stopping a couple inches before his ear. You lower the shower head into the tub again to inspect further. "Definitely not a bullet wound. What made this?"

"Dunno," Butcher replies. "One threw something, didn't see what. Clocked me right as I rounded a corner."

"Threw it at you?"

"Pretty sure his gun jammed just before. Fucking amateur," he says smugly.

You shake your head. "Whatever it was, it got you good. Luckily it's not too deep. Just made you bleed like a stuffed pig. And I suspect a slight concussion. Those steri-strip things would be best but I don't think they'll stay with all your hair. I should have some liquid bandage stuff in the kit though."

You pick up the clean cloth and start dabbing at the broken skin, trying to be gentle. Once it's a bit more dry, you slip back just far enough to turn and dip into your kit. After a bit of rummaging you find the little tube you're looking for. With the faintest tapping on the back of his skull, you signal for him to ease his head to forward. You start applying the gel on the wound, working from the back towards his temple.

If he notices the sting that usually comes with liquid stitches, he says nothing. As a matter of fact, he's rather quiet as the minutes pass. Enough to unsettle you again as you reach the end of the gash. Satisfied with your work, you discard the tube with a toss back into the kit before carefully dipping both hands into his hair. When he arches a brow at you, you reply, "Just checking for any other wounds. And making sure the rest of your skull is still intact."

Still he says nothing and allows you to examine him further. He's already got a hell of a knot forming around the gash. But as you tread your fingertips along his scalp, you find no further injury. When your fingers reach far enough to touch, lacing round the back of his head, he makes a small hum in his throat. You glance at his face, finding his eyes flitting just a bit, more foggy than before.

When you snap your hands back to hold his face, he comes straight back to alert. "Wha-?"

"Look straight ahead. Need to see your eyes."

He stares back at you, brow arching again. "The hell you doing now?," he asks dryly.

"I'm checking for nystagmus."

"Plain English, Nurse Ratched."

"Involuntary eye movements. Like when you look at something but your eyes keep ticking away then right back. Thought I saw it a second ago."

He surprises you with a chuckle, and it manages to smooth out some of your concern. "I think I'll live if I have a lazy eye for a minute, darlin'."

"Not a lazy eye. Nystagmus often happens if there's neurological issues. Surgical sedation can cause it. Or, you know, someone or something trying to bust your head open like a damn pinata. If you have it, I'm calling MM."

His hands on your waist tighten slightly. "No, you're fucking not. I'm fine."

"Shut up and keep your eyes open, William."

Both brows shoot to his hairline for a moment. But they settle and you continue looking into his pupils, waiting for any rhythmic twitching, or any indication of stroke. Long seconds pass and you sigh with relief. No sign of nystagmus. He's got issues for days but at least for tonight it's not brain damage.

"That was a first."

You blink at him, noticing his pupils dilate slightly. "What's a first?"

"You called me William." A smirk starts to form on his face, and your eyes linger a little too long on his lips. "Wasn't that serious, was it?"

"Oh." Caught off guard, you suddenly realize your position. Up close with a shirtless and damp Butcher, cradling his face. You go to drop your hands to his shoulders but remember the bullet wound, and they stutter to an awkward stop on his neck instead. "I was…"

Butcher cuts off your train of thought when he pulls on your hips and leans forward, bringing your foreheads together. "Relax, love," he breathes, still smirking as he flips the roles on you - now he's studying your eyes. "M'alright. Been in way worse shape than this."

"Billy…"

"That's better."

And his lips press against yours without hesitation. It's short, perhaps teasing. But there's that underlying note of tenderness again, and it pulls a smile and a small sound of contentment out of you. Prior doubt slithering away like the water down the drain.

His response to your smile is quick, eyes flashing before his mouth captures yours again, but much firmer. Warm, borderlining hot. When you sigh one of his hands slides up from your waist to cradle the back of your neck. Butcher's mouth moves slow but unyielding against yours, wiping your mind clean of any thought and leaving only awareness of this. A tug on your bottom lip between his teeth morphs your next sigh into a tiny gasp. But it's all he needs to dip his tongue just within, testing, just tasting.

His hand on your hip glides to the small of your back, pulling you till you're almost flushed with him. You give no resistance.

It's not until your shins hit the tub that you realize too late you probably should have. The next second you're both fumbling to catch your fall with a yell. Butcher manages to get one hand on the lip of the tub, and you wrap one arm around his shoulders. Your other hand shoots out to slam against the wall, stopping your awkward, tangled crash. But not before Butcher's head thuds against the faucet.

"Aw fuck me!"

"Shit! Hold on!"

It's a mess, but with a bit more cursing you both strain to an upright position again. Butcher's eyes screw shut with a hiss as he holds the edge with a death grip. "Well if I wasn't concussed before I sure as shit am now!"

Before you can reply a knock sounds from your front door. "Shit! I forgot about the pizza! Don't move, okay? I'll be right back."

"Hold on a tic-"

"Don't. Fucking. Move!," you hiss before darting out the bathroom.

You scramble about till you find a little cash, just enough for a tip. Despite your best efforts, you still managed to get a little blood on the hem of your shirt, tiny specks of it drying on your palms from cleaning up the reckless mess in your bathroom. If the delivery guy notices when you answer the door, he says nothing. Just gives you a bored look and equally flat "have a nice night" as you exchange him for the food, then leaves.

You secure the door and move quickly into the kitchen to drop the pizza on the counter. You snatch a glass and fill it with water then turn back to head to the bathroom for tylenol. Instead you find Butcher filling your bedroom doorway, rubbing the back of his head.

"Damn it! I said don't move!"

"I heard ya. And I'm starving. Gotta do something for this bloody headache." He shuffles to the counter as you slink past him.

"Hold on, just getting you some medicine right now. Give me a sec and I'll see if I can find you some food," you call back.

"It's right here, innit?"

You pop two pills into your palm, then remember you have yet to finish the graze on his chest. Washing your hands and grabbing a packet of ointment, you head back to the kitchen. "Yes, but that's probably one of the worst things for a con-" You let out a sigh at the sight of Butcher already happily halfway through his first slice. "Nevermind. Here."

"Much obliged." He takes the tylenol greedily between bites and washes it down with the whole glass and a wince. Once he takes the last bite of food you rip open the packet and approach him. He shakes his head when you raise a hand towards the graze. "Now hold on-"

"Your hands aren't clean. So hush." When he rolls his eyes you pause in applying to give him a pointed look. "Not going to let you undo all my hard work by getting an infection via pizza grease."

You make quick work of it, focusing on applying just the right amount of ointment to hold off the thoughts of his mouth on yours moments before, or the fact he's standing in your apartment still shirtless. It's hard to ignore, though, what with the planes of his long torso before you, and his broad chest under your hands. But you manage.

With a nod, you step back. "There. Done. I'm going to grab your shirt, maybe I can still save it with a wash."

"Don't bother, love," he replies, seizing another slice from the box. "A wash ain't gonna fix the bullet hole."

Oh no. You're not doing this to me.

"Fair enough. Umm. I might have something then? Give me a minute."

You turn back to your bedroom again, making a beeline for your closet. For several minutes you rife through your clothes and your thoughts. You have no complaints of the kissing, aside from the embarrassing tumble. But you do feel a twinge of guilt. He's not completely well, and you certainly don't want to make things worse. You finally find an old, oversized t-shirt. A dark blue, ragged unisex thing you had kept for housework and "just in case" situations like this, it's hem riddled with holes. It may just fit him.

When you return you find him on your couch, eyes closed, right arm draped lazily across the back.You can't help looking him over. You're not sure what you had expected under those tacky shirts all this time but it wasn't this. He's not chiseled, which you're actually glad for, pleased by the hint of lean muscle under his skin. He's built for useful strength, not showboating. The urge to map his large ribcage and where he's soft or firm with your hands makes your fingers twitch. And the lines of hips you'd only peeked before are now on full display, framing a thin dark trail under his navel, and sloping sharp into his jeans. You'd heard a couple different names for hips like his, Apollo's belt being one. The other was Aphrodite's saddle.

Fuck Aphrodite! That one is mine!

The man has been shot! Can we fucking NOT?!, you snap at the little voice.

You call his name softly and he opens his eyes. A good sign, all things considered. You toss him the shirt before stepping back to get some pizza yourself. "Full already?"

"Nah, just pausing before thirds," Butcher quips as he stiffly tugs on the shirt. Thankfully it's not too snug.

You give him a look when you sit down beside him with your plate. "You got nauseous, didn't you?" He shrugs dismissively but you know better. Not a good sign. After a hesitant bite you decide to switch back to the other pressing matter. "So this lead at the club is a deadend then?"

"Fraid so," he nods solemnly. "Even if one of the others goes back for it, that footage is good as gone now. There'll be another person like that girl, you can count on it. Just have to wait."

"She got lucky," you frown between bites. "We don't know how many others there have been that weren't."

"We can't do anything bout that. We'd be chasing our tails if we tried digging that hard, and Neuman will wonder why our other cases have slowed down all the sudden. Too risky."

You finish your first slice and sigh. Now your appetite is compromised. "So now what?"

Butcher's all too familiar smirk returns. "We do our day jobs as usual, and prep for that gala like we planned. But right now?" He shifts in his seat, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you into him. He hooks one of your thighs despite your protest and manages to pull you into his lap to face him. "I recall telling you last night that we ain't done."

"Seriously?" You scoff with a wry smile. "Even now?"

"Well no better time than the present, now is there?," he grins. When he leans up to kiss you, you press your fingers against his lips and the other hand on his good shoulder, and push him back. He gives an indignant look.

"As a matter of fact, there is a better time than the present." When he frowns you shake your head and continue. "Billy, you have a goddamn bullet hole under your collarbone. And you're concussed. Almost twice. You need rest, and the less stimulation the better. Not TV, not music, and definitely not getting to know you carnally."

"Stimulation sounds much more fun," he grumbles, still teasing.

"I'm not kicking you out. You can stay. As a matter of fact, I insist."

"Well I'm glad the lady insists."

"But," you press, darting around his flirtatious tone, "It's late. I'm tired. And more importantly, you are tired. Don't lie, I can see it."

"What? Don't fancy me bedroom eyes?"

"You need to heal, Billy," you intone, low but emphatic. "And that requires a quiet place and restful sleep."

He gives a bit of a pout, looking you over as his thumbs rub circles on your thighs. "No pizza, no TV, no sex. Fucking hell, you really are Nurse Ratched."

"You should be supervised for at least forty-eight hours. But you and I both know damn well you're not going to let that happen. Just let me keep an eye on you tonight and I'll quit being your nurse by morning. Okay?"

"No dice. You best have a better deal than that."

"Butcher-"

"How about…I pick some boring drivel on the telly, keep it real low…" His palms smooth warmly over your thighs. "...And you keep more on me than an eye, eh?"

"I keep both eyes on you then," you counter. "And I pick what's on the TV. Final offer. Otherwise, I'll cut the TV cord, kick you to bed and nap here on this couch-"

"You're not kicking yourself outta your own damn bed," he says with a bristling glare. The flirtatious tone returns after a beat. "And I ain't going near it unless you're in it."

"Well look at that, you being a gentleman," you tease. "So? Final offer?"

He stares at you, summing up the options. He's not pleased, obviously. But you can see the fatigue in his face, and you're determined that he makes it through the night without complications. His eyes narrow.

"...What you thinkin' of picking?"

"Something mild, kinda monotonous," you shrug. "Maybe one of those David Attenborough nature docs."

"Oh come off it!," he groans. "Bloody concussion won't kill me but you will bore me to death! I might as well just go to Bo-peep!"

"That's the point," you faux whisper.

He lets out a heavy sigh, minutely shaking his head. "Fuck me…Where's your remote?"

"Thank you," you beam before hopping off his lap. You snatch the remote before he gets any ideas, and set everything up, volume down to just audible. You grab one more slice of pizza from the kitchen, putting the rest away in the fridge, then turning off the lights. You set up an alarm on your phone for the end of the show, then a couple more about two hours apart to check on him through the night. The last would be your usual morning wakeup call.

You pad back to the couch where Butcher promptly pulls you down to tuck into his side. He throws an annoyed look at your triumphant expression, before finally easing back into the cushions, his eyes already heavy. You make quick work of your second slice as you feel his breath start to become rhythmic, ready to begin your watch…

It's not till the sound of the first alarm goes off that you realize you, too, had been lulled to sleep. You jolt, scrambling for your phone to quickly silence the alarm. You're disoriented to find that you're still tucked into Butcher but not as before. At some point you must have dozed a little heavier than him, allowing him to shift you both onto his good side. His left arm is draped over your hips, and when you reach for the remote to turn off the TV, it wraps a little closer.

"Billy?," you call softly over your shoulder. He stirs, giving a small grunt in response. Groggy but responsive, so far so good. You start to shift to get up. "I'm going to get you a blanket."

"No," he grunts into your shoulder. His arm pulls you back flush with him. You feel him wince at irritating his wound with the movement, then mumbles, "Don't need it."

Within moments his breathing becomes warm and steady on the back of your neck again, and his grip slowly softens as he slips back into sleep. You consider trying to sneak out. But honestly…this is more than you could've asked for. If anyone had told you not too long ago that you'd be cuddled by big, bad Billy Butcher, you would have told them to get their head checked. After all these chaotic, frustrating, dirty months this is the nicest thing you've experienced since joining the Boys. Then immediately after realize that this must be an even more rare moment of peace and comfort for him.

Smiling, you check to make sure the alarms are still ready on your phone, then set it aside on the coffee table. You let your eyes drift shut, determined not to take this for granted, soaking in the warmth, the silence…

^^^

Your eyes snap open, the room still dark. You sigh, waiting to hear your alarm. It doesn't sound. It's silent and you glance about, confused, why are you awake? It takes only a moment, the tingle of hairs standing on end, and you find your answer. The feeling is back. The feeling of something wrong.

You slowly raise on one arm, peering around. Only then do you notice something missing, warmth and weight. You turn your head and find Butcher sitting upright on the couch, your legs in his lap. You realize he must feel it, too. His face is turned from you, looking towards the windows.

"Billy?"

He turns his head at your whisper, his face a mix of brooding and alertness, all muddled with fatigue. The second you recognize it, the moment you realize it's the feeling of being watched again, it dissipates. His brow furrows.

"Billy, wh-?"

"Nothin'," he mumbles with a faint shake of his head. "Go back to sleep." He slides lazily back up the couch to reclaim his spot. You're on the verge of asking again but he hooks a finger under your chin. "Hey, what'd I say? I'm fine. It's nothin'."

He pulls you back in again, the solid weight of him behind you and the briefest press of lips upon the back of your neck both bring the tide of sleep over you, slowly but surely. You silence the alarm just before you close your eyes. When the next one wakes you, he's the one to shut it off.

You can't help but notice that his grip softens less in his sleep this time.

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #the boys fanfic

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tcfkag · 5 months

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2024 and the Return of the To-Done List

So, after a year during which (a) our daughter ran full-speed (literally) into the trying two's, (b) I had multi-focal pneumonia that resulted in a week or two in the hospital (including a brief sojourn in the ICU), (c) I had bizarre, seemingly inexplicable seizures for the first time ever [which meant I couldn't drive for six months...right after we moved to a semi-"rural" town...for the northeast that is], (d) had an acute kidney injury, (e) had several bouts of unexplained pitting edema in my legs, (f) started a new job that I actually really like, even if there is a steep learning curve, and (g) lost my Mom after a long battle with mild to moderate dementia/Alzheimer's that then dropped off a cliff into end-stage dementia in less than six months (depending on how you count it), and (h) just generally felt like I was never managing my physical or mental health as well as I could or should be, I'm going to try to make some changes. These aren't resolutions because I truly think that New Year's resolutions just set you up to fail. Instead, I'd call them goals. Or, at least, hope that I want to support with action as much as I can. While still giving myself grace knowing that I can and probably will mess up along the way. But, the first step is that I'm going to try to bring back a kind of journaling-like activity (since I suck at journaling) that my old therapist recommended when I was feeling like this before. Each day I make a list, generally on Tumblr for at least a tiny modicum of peer pressure, and I just make a list of everything I've done that day. No matter how big or how small. As she put it "make it your base assumption that each day, you will do absolutely nothing, so you get credit for everything, even things as simple as showering. I frequently restart these lists when my depression and anxiety have gotten bad enough that I know I'm not taking care of myself, mentally and physically, so a big part of my goals are (a) to move more [in whatever form that takes], (b) eating healthier, and (c) to take care of several medical/dental appointments that I've been putting off for way too long. The beauty of the list is that, a lot of the time, I ended up doing stuff BECAUSE of the list. So that I won't be staring at an empty page as I try to make my list each year.

Things I'm proud of today...so far:

when we took Peanut to the trampoline park to burn off some of her "no daycare today suckers" energy and this time, I bought a jump pass for myself. I only made it ~30 minutes but it was a great work-out. 10/10 would recommend.

I took the dogs for the "long" trail walk out to the back of our property,

I did a core and flexibility routine this morning,

I decided to take one for the team and point out to my Uncle that the nostalgia he feels about Aunt Jemimah as a syrup mascot isn't as important as the company making money off the likeness of a woman who died 100 years ago who was used as a stand in for the generic idea of what an enslaved (or recently freed) Black woman did or should do, and (finally)

this one is a few days late, but not only did we drive 12+ hours to visit my in-laws for Christmas, but we also stopped in NJ in both directions to pick up Monotasker's Aunt who is 80-years-old, hard of hearing, and in the early stages of dementia or Alzheimer's and I didn't even lose my shit at a single person...even the ones who deserved it.

Happy New Years everyone!

"May the best of your todays be the worst of your tomorrows." (Jason Mraz) And even if the worst of your todays are the best of your tomorrows, I hope you can still find your way out and through by the light of the moon to guide you.

#TCFKAG #Things I'm Proud Of Today #depression #spoonies #To-Done List #chronic illness #chronic pain #just generally an exhausted 40-year-old mother to a quite lovely but at times trying two year old #who - i might add - might have sprained her ankle at the trampoline park #oh dear #i miss my mommy #2024 #Hopefully not a second verse that's same as the first

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the12thnightproject · 1 year

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Chapter 2: Tick, Tick….People are disappearing. Meanwhile Katsu & Mitsuhide’s second meeting goes about as well as their first..

Mitsuhide x OC; Hideyoshi x MC (Mai)

All Chapters Archived on Ao3

Logline - With Mai, Hideyoshi, and Aki missing, Mitsuhide and Katsuko reluctantly team up. Disguised as a merchant and his concubine, can they outsmart the man known as the God of Deceit?

Six weeks later…

Aki was late.

Not the normal lateness common to people living in an era that didn’t have clocks – that I was used to. No, he was over a week late to meet me in Niigata. For the past nine days, I had been holed up in an inn, basically counting the lines on the floor (twenty-four), playing both sides of a game of shogi (to a draw), and teaching myself to juggle. The fact that I could now easily manipulate five makeshift ‘bean’ bags (wood shavings and gravel sewn up in fabric) said everything about my boredom. Aside from one kunoichi who stopped in to wait out a rainstorm, there had been nobody interesting to talk to (granted, she had been really interesting).

While I would have said that Aki could survive anything and everything that life threw at him – nine days late was an ominous sign. Sure, he’d always been prone to disappearing for long periods of time. He’d also had a knack for reappearing on the exact day he’d promised.

Something’s wrong.

It was possible that he would eventually show up at the inn, but I couldn’t continue to hole up indefinitely – for one thing, inns cost money. I had paid for the 10-day “week” in advance – did I really want to commit to another week of this?

I need to be looking for him.

If Aki had been around to ask for advice, he probably would have suggested I return home, to the The Mountain, and wait for further communication. But that would just guarantee that Fume would put me to work scrubbing floors for the rest of the year. Hm…. I could continue south, and go to Azuchi. Aki maintained a bookstore there, but that was a front. In truth, it was a message drop for his couriers and spies. If anyone had seen him recently, then Takauji, who was currently manning the store, would know of it. And, if not… well, I could at least leave him a ‘where the hell are you?’ message while I figured out my next move.

Once decided, I wasted no more time and headed out into a cool late summer morning. The air had a bite to it, and the breeze carried the smell of harvest fruits. If I hadn’t been so preoccupied with wondering what happened to Aki, I might have enjoyed the journey to Azuchi. But happy as I was to be on the move, my mind was consumed with images of all the disasters that could have befallen him. Maybe he’d gotten caught up in a petty squabble between neighboring daimyos. Maybe he’d been injured or taken suddenly ill somewhere.

Maybe he simply got tired of you and never planned to return.

Ugh! Mental doomscrolling wouldn’t do me any good. Ok. Positive thinking. Instead of worrying why he was lost, figure out how to ensure he was found. Though Aki’s system of couriers and spies wasn’t nearly as vast a network as some others, like the Takeda mitsumono, there were still a lot of us. If we all worked together, we’d run him to ground… somewhere.

By the time I arrived at the bookseller’s in Azuchi, I had nearly convinced myself that finding Aki would simply be a matter of legwork. I could do that. I’d been criss-crossing the country on my own for years now. I had contacts in every city. I could do this… I could d--

“Thank the Gods you’re here.” Takaugi greeted me, not with his customary vague hello-and-can-you-take-over-so-I-can-go-piss, but a frantic announcement. “Francisco sent a message that Aki is missing, and I don’t know what to do.”

There is a reason why Takauji is often the one getting stuck in the old man disguise here. He has no initiative.

I dumped my pack on the floor behind the low counter. “Has anyone else heard from him?”

He shrugged. “You’re the first courier to come through since I received that message.”

Like I said. No initiative.

I put my hand out and after a momentary pause, Taka realized what I wanted and plopped Francisco’s note in it. I scanned it quickly, then slowly, but Taka had indeed given me all the available information. It simply said that Aki had missed a scheduled meeting and Francisco was concerned. But then he had likely needed to pay someone to write it for him, as he barely could speak Japanese. Writing it was far beyond his abilities.

Shit… if Francisco was worried too, something had to be terribly wrong. But… I couldn’t freak out in front of Takauji. Someone needed to take control of the situation, and I appeared to be the only candidate at hand. Taka wouldn’t listen if he saw me panic.

“Alright. Let’s first send out messages to all his couriers – we’ll have them search the corners of the country.” Which had basically been my plan anyway.

Taka simply gaped at me (literally, unhinged jaw). “What should I write… exactly?”

It deserved its own hashtag. #Takahasnoinitiative. I bit the inside of my cheek to avoid snapping at him. He couldn’t help it. Maybe he had been dropped on his head as a child. Daily. “I’ll write the first one. Then you can copy it.” I grabbed my pack, plus some paper and writing supplies we kept behind the counter and started to head for the private courtyard behind the shop. Then, I turned back to Taka. “Oh, and don’t tell anyone he is missing. Anyone who isn’t one of us.”

It shouldn’t have needed to have been said… but Taka doesn’t think either.

Once safely in the courtyard, I allowed myself a moment to have a private breakdown. I could feel my throat and chest tighten. What if Aki never came back? What would we all do? He’d spent years building his network. Would it disintegrate without him?

Ok. Breath.

Breathe.

I flipped myself into a handstand to center myself… focusing on the physical to cleanse the mental. One thing at a time. Listen to the wind, alert to when it chang-

At that moment, what I heard instead of the wind, was the sound of a packet being slapped onto the counter. This was followed by a voice that almost made me topple over. “I have an urgent message for Akihira.”

Mitsuhide.

He sounded about fifty percent less calm than the last time I had heard him speak, and… why am I upside down again? From where I was, as long as I kept still, I wouldn’t be visible from the front, but I couldn’t change positions without potentially alerting him to my presence.

Hopefully, Taka would remember not to mention…“He’s… he’s errm. I’ll m-m-make sure it goes out with the next courier.” Good. Though Taka had stumbled, most normal people would not have noticed.

Then again… this is Mitsuhide we’re talking about. He’s not normal. He might not even be human. Of course, he noticed. “My, my, that was quite the stutter. Is there a problem? You keep looking toward the-”

“Don’t go back there!” Taka sounded like every guilty toddler on the planet.

Footsteps.

Sandalwood and cinnamon.

That prickly feeling shot through me again, destroying all the focus I had just worked so hard to achieve.

Before I could react, my view was impeded by Mitsuhide’s legs. I tilted my head to look upward, meeting Mitsuhide’s eyes halfway. Then he crouched so that we were nearly face to face. “How very interesting, child. One might almost be convinced that this is your preferred …position. Perhaps you are part bat?”

Thank goodness I hadn’t yet started writing the ‘Aki is missing’ messages. Mitsuhide would definitely have noticed those. “Oh, you know. I’m just hanging around.”

No response.

Tough crowd.

It was tempting to stay upside down and force Mitsuhide to continue to crouch, or potentially get a crick in his neck, but today I was Aki’s representative and there was no reason to further antagonize him, even if he was the most aggravating man in this era. I flipped back to my feet with an artistic flourish. “Not to worry, I will make sure that Aki receives your correspondence the moment I see him.”

Neutral professional tone. Don’t give him anything to react to. These are not the droids you are looking for.

His posture shifted, just a little, just enough for me to register his skepticism.

Ok. Jedi mind tricks don’t work on kitsunes. Good to know.

He let me stew in silence for a moment before asking, “what are you not telling me?”

Seriously? We’re doing this again?

“You know, sometimes I think you say things like that not because you believe the person is holding back information, but because you hope they are. It’s a fishing expedition.” And I am not going to bite him. Anything. I’m not going to bite anything.

His eyebrow went up. “After a single meeting, you’ve determined this about me.” Sarcasm dripped into the air and plopped down at my feet.

“I’m very perceptive.” Which is true, as far as it goes. But something about Mitsuhide short circuited the connection between my brain and my mouth. And with my worry about Aki, my shields were low anyway.

“Perceptive… If you say so, Brat.” The heavy pause mid-sentence made it clear that he had other preferred adjectives for me. “I have not forgotten our last meeting.”

Neither had I.

I made a point of smiling at him. Ok, it was a fake smile, and I’m sure he was aware of that. “Perceptive and memorable.”

Eyebrow.

Distract, distract, distract!

I took out my juggling bags and tossed them into the air. “Dexterous too. There was nothing I could have told you anything that you didn’t already know – or that you didn’t learn soon anyway.”

Although I hadn’t personally witnessed any of this past summer’s conflict between Nobunaga’s forces and the Ikko-Ikki, my friend Sasuke (and his friend Yoshimoto) had later filled me in on the details – not that they had been part of the battle either, but instead were part of the diversionary tactic that led up to it.

Mitsuhide fluidly reached over and took over my bean bags – juggling them as effortlessly as I had. “You cost me time.” He let go of the bags and before I could return to the rhythm of the trick, they all fell to the ground.

Plop. Plop. Plop. Plop. Splat.

The fifth one landed on its seam, and burst open, scattering pebbles and wood shavings across the courtyard.

Mitsuhide stared down at the jumble of bean bags at my feet. “Interesting. It appears you aren’t as skilled as you believed you were. It would behoove you to learn, and quickly, that recklessness and overconfidence are quite a fatal combination.” He patted me on the head – patronizing, not affectionate. “See to it that Aki receives my correspondence.” He bowed. Polite but distant, then, without another word, Jareth-with-better-teeth strolled out of the shop.

I hate him.

That had been even less pleasant than my first encounter with him. I felt like someone was jamming an ice pick through my sinuses. Maybe I’m allergic to sandalwood. Or cinnamon.

Maybe I’m allergic to Mitsuhide.

“Did I do that correctly?” Taka peered nervously into the courtyard. “And… he’s not going to come back and kill me, is he?”

You? No. Me? Jury still out.

It would take me years to explain to Taka the art of misdirection. Easier to simply say, “you did fine.” Then I took Mitsuhide’s message out of his hands. Without a second thought, I opened it to read—

“You told him you were taking that to Aki.” Taka scratched his head. “You shouldn’t read Aki’s mail.”

“I always read Aki’s mail. In fact, he once told me I should. Anyway, what I told Mitsuhide was that I would give Aki the message as soon as I saw him, which, of course, I will. But since I don’t know when that will be, if this is important, then I’d better see if there’s something that I can do to help.” I did… owe Mitsuhide that much.

His letter was coded, which made sense, but Aki had made a point of teaching me all his codes, not just the ones he used for his correspondence. We had even created a special code together, but that one was only used between the two of us. In retrospect, this was an ominous sign… maybe he had already been worried about his future.

I made myself comfortable on the ground and started to decode the message. “Go back up front, Taka, this is going to be a while.”

“Can I go take a piss first?” Taka was already heading through the back exit en route to the city’s cesspits.

“Sure,” I called to his retreating back, then got back to the message. Friend. Have you had any knowledge of who might be interested in smuggling Nanban weapons out of Sakai or the western ports? Or at least, would you be able to point me to the daimyos most likely to be stockpiling them?

Hm, if Francisco was to be believed, Aki had been headed to the port of Sakai the last time anyone had heard from him… Was it possibly that he had already been looking into weapon shipments? If so, that was the sort of information that Aki kept to himself, and none of the rest of us had much experience with smuggl—

Except me. I had had experience with them.

“Once they load the crates on board,” Iekane gestured to the other crates, “you ought to be able to climb out at night and track down your brother.” He showed me where there was a latch on the lid, and I tested the escape mechanism. “The ship isn’t planning to leave for a few days.” He handed me my bow and arrows. “Light one of these on fire and shoot it into the air. I’ll wait on the dock with our horses. Goodbye… well, good luck, I mean.” I lay back down in the crate and my world became dark as Iekane closed the lid. A few moments later, I heard another voice. “You there! What are you doing with my … shipment?” Footsteps came closer to the box. I held my breath. Now would not be a good time to be discovered. Hopefully Iekane wasn’t in trouble either. “Final inventory check!” Ooh, that was a good bluff on Iekane’s part, since he couldn’t know what was in these boxes. I heard the lid on another box open, and the dull heavy clank of metal – but the only metal that would be imported these days would be Nanban guns. Crap. Of all the crates to pick, we’d somehow gotten mixed in with someone’s weapon smuggling outfit. “Wait ‘til they get a load of these, heh heh.” The clunk of that lid. I prayed that this guy wouldn’t inspect every box. Another voice, this one with a European accent that I couldn’t place through the walls of the crate. “I’m happy you approve, Motonari. You, boy, help us move these.” “Of course.” That was Iekane’s voice. I felt the box being lifted. The motion was soothing, almost like being rocked in a cradle, and in spite of my anxiety, I felt myself becoming sleepy. But after about half and hour or so, my crate’s journey ended with a thunk. And then more thuds – oh the other crates. The jingle of coins. “Pleasure doing business with ye!”

Even after over five years, memories of that near-death experience still gave me nightmares. I couldn’t go into small spaces without having a panic attack… but that also meant that I had very clear memories of exactly how to find that warehouse in Sakai, a warehouse that had at one point been used to store Nanban weapons.

Still, it had been five years… the warehouse could have changed hands, the weapons could be coming to an alternate location now. Was this enough information to pass along to Mitsuhide? Maybe I should check it out on my own first… especially since I had another reason to make that trip. Aki had been planning to meet Francisco, who lived in Sakai. I could go to Sakai myself, check things out, and question Francisco. Then if I learned anything interesting, I could bring that back to Mitsuhide, with a mea culpa for reading his mail.

It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Or… something to that effect.

By the time I dropped three stacks of messages into Taka’s hands, my fingers were sore and cramping. Originally, I had planned to have Taka make the copies himself, but I didn’t trust that he would complete them, or avoid a transcription error that would spill over into all of them – this was too important to trust to a Takauji version of “telephone” in which “Aki is missing” turned into “Go to the province of Aki to look for a missing letter.”

“Give these to Ryo, Kinshiro, and Heitane when they pass through.” Each of them would distribute their stacks to Aki’s spies, who were scattered across the country.

“Are these for Aki, or for Mitsuhide’s request?” Taka looked at the store’s entry, clearly worried that speaking his name out loud would cause the man to manifest.

Don’t worry, Taka, you must stand in the middle of a pentagram and say the name three times for that to happen.

“This is for Aki. I’ll deal with the other on my own.” At my words, Taka sighed, in what I presume was relief. “Um, do you mind if I bunk with you tonight?” There was a set of rooms for the bookseller to use above the storefront. The quarters weren’t terribly big, but for one night, it wouldn’t be so ba-.

“Must you?” Taka frowned, as he glanced at the position of the setting sun on the horizon. “Er, normally I wouldn’t mind, Katsu, but there’s a woman and…”

“Say no more.” Did this woman realize that under the old man disguise Taka was about thirty years old? Or… not? Maybe … you know what. I did not need to speculate on Taka’s love life. I could find a cheap inn. “If Mitsuhide comes back, all you need to tell him is that I took his message to Aki.”

“What if Aki comes back looking for you?” Taka carefully stored the messages under the counter. “Are you heading back to The Mountain?”

Hm, it probably would be a good idea to tell someone where I was heading, just in case. It would be better if I could tell a useful someone, someone with initiative, but I had to work with what I had. “No. Sakai. I’m going to Sakai.”

The shops in the castle town were all in the process of closing for the night, but a few merchants were still willing to sell their wares, even as the sun set. If I was going to be in Sakai, I would need a decent wicker or bamboo hat. Otherwise, in the warmer coastal weather my hood would stick out like a sore ninja. While I waited for the woman in front of me to decide between two different decorative obi cords, as usual paying attention to everything and nothing, the conversation between the woman and the merchant caught my attention.

“Weren’t Lord Hideyoshi and Lady Mai supposed to have returned to Azuchi by now?”

Mai… that’s Sasuke’s friend… the one who works in Azuchi castle.

I’d never met her, but she and Lord Hideyoshi had figured prominently in Sasuke’s tales of this past summer’s battles. I turned a woven hat upside down, examining the inside, pretending to be concentrating on its weight and not her response.

“Um. Well. Yes. But. Um. They are having such a nice time together that they decided to extend their trip. In fact. Mai sent a nice note to all the seamstresses telling us about how pretty it is in Sakai and the weather is lovely there so they are not yet coming back.” The woman’s hands were shaking.

She’s lying.

One of the rules of lying? Keep it short and simple. The more you talk, the more you have to keep track of.

Proving my point, the seamstress continued, “Of course she also said that Azuchi has the best fabric merchants, so I’m sure that when she and Lord Hideyoshi return, she’ll come here immediately… because our orders are piling up.”

“I look forward to seeing her again,” the merchant said while he wrapped up her purchases (she bought both ties).

After the woman took her package and left, I quickly paid for my hat… clearly, I had some additional research to do…

Later that night, when I was holed up at yet another inn, I jotted down what I had learned that afternoon. Mai and her fiancée Hideyoshi had taken a trip to Sakai, and they had neither returned when expected nor sent a message announcing a delay. This was atypical behavior for Lord Hideyoshi (per a couple of Oda’s vassals who probably shouldn’t have been talking that loudly in a public restaurant). Item number two – Mitsuhide was concerned enough about weapons smuggling and smugglers to send a message to Aki.

Were these two items connected?

Meanwhile, Aki had also disappeared, sometime before he was due to meet Francisco in Sakai.

And though I did not know where Aki had been specifically going prior to intending to meet Francisco in Sakai, that was enough of a confirmation to me that all roads led to Sakai.

I hadn’t spent a lot of time there myself, but I knew enough to get around. I knew the blind alleys and the rooftops. Even better, I was certain that Francisco would be willing to trade lodgings for in-house translation services. I could take my time and investigate this properly.

‘Case log’ begun. Travel plans solidified. Hat acquired. Time for sleep.

Time to attempt sleep.

Time to stare at the ceiling again.

Sleep never comes easily for me – I have to chase it, tie it down, hug it to me, and hope for as much rest as possible. Unsurprisingly, when I finally dropped off, I was haunted by the memories of the crate, the weight of full boxes pressing down, the voices of the weapons smugglers checking their stock.

Likely these dreams were summoned by my plan to return to the scene of the so-called crime.

But maybe in doing so, I would finally put some of those ghosts to rest.

@mllorei @selenacosmic @tele86 @bestbryn @lyds323 @akitsuneswife

#10things #10 things i hate about you #mitsuhide monday #ikemen sengoku #fanfic #mitsuhide akechi #ikesen mitsuhide #ao3 link

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silently--here · 7 months

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20 Questions for fic writers

Thank you for tagging me @annanother-thing!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

13 technically, i have one that is currently anon tho so not on my profile yet

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

59,428

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Harry Potter, i also have one Hannibal poem but I haven't posted it

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Unknown number, my wolfstar texting fic

One Last call, sad angsty wolfstar fic

Secrets, trans remus joining hogwarts late fic with hinted wolfstar and minerva/poppy

Visiting the south of France, good severus fic and background james/lily

Eius Astra, t4t Draco and Percy fic soft sweet get together fic

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I should but I don't really, to be fair I haven't been posting much but I'm really very bad at replying and leaving comments and it's something I want to improve at

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably one last call , mind the tags on it if you read it

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hmm my fic that is currently anon or Eius Astra

8. Do you get hate on fics?

In the past but I just delete it, recently I havent which is nice

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes but I never end up posting much, I want to get round to it but I overthink

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Nope the closest I have gotten to a cross over was my Glitter and gold fic

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope, I am not a good enough writer for that

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, I have translated my own fic as an exercise in writing norwegian but I didn't post it, it is probably full of errors and wrong words

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope and I don't think I would be very good at it, when I was younger I wanted to but I am happy writing on my own nowadays

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

I have so many I can't just pick but if we stay within Harry Potter fandom then its wolfstar

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't know, I have a lot of things I begin but don't think I will finish but then randomly I will find myself coming back to them but being realistic I have a wolfstar fic dubbed as the lighthouse fic and I don't know if I will ever finish it or put anywhere

16. What are your writing strengths?

I don't know, I am well aware I have flaws in my writing and I could nit pick all day but strengths idk. I don't write because I'm good, I write because I enjoy it and it's a bit of an escape and maybe someone will enjoy what I write but if not it doesn't matter because I don't need people to enjoy my fics

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I am bad with spelling and reusing the same words, I don't structure sentences well and don't know if a full stop or a comma is needed. I don't really understand the rules of writing dialogue. Theres so much and I wont go on.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

See I never know what the rules are for this and same as Anna I find it annoying when the translations are in the end notes of a fic. I have some wips written with a different language spoken that aren't posted and I have done it with a '/' to separate translation to actual speech. However I do wonder how important it is to my fic that they are speaking a different language or is it not really needed? Idk

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I think it was Harry Potter but idk

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

It's barely written and I can't wait to write more but half hitches and round turns is my wolfstar living on a canal boat fic and ahh i just love it

I'm tagging: @uncannycerulean, @allalrightagain @bluestringpudding and anyone else who wants to do this

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deexchanel · 1 year

Text

Blind : Part 2

Word Count:

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x BlackFem!OC

Warning: Swearing, Arguments, Angst Then mentioning of drugs & Fluff.

-Read Blind first-

Summary: Roles has reverse on the best friends, monday morning he starts on trying to get Elara back but someone has caught her eye.

A/N: I hope this is as interesting as the last one. @demonic-black-queen just for you luv😘🫶🏾

Corell & Kaylee

Corell’s alarm woke up her up exactly at 6:30 a.m. She made her way into her personal bathroom to began on her hygiene. Her phone buzzed while she was putting on deodorant. It was her boyfriend calling.

“Good Morning Beautiful.” Her boyfriend smiled into the camera. A smile grew onto her face as she propped the phone up. “ Good Morning baby.”

He sat the phone down, turning the steering wheel. “Were you able to talk to Elara about her behavior?”

Corell pulled her hair into a ponytail, “No, but I was going to say something about it this morning. Where you able to pay off your car note before going to work?”

“Yeah but it made me 10 minutes late. This was supposed be a quick phone call to see if you’ve gotten up.”

“Okay baby. I love you baby and talk to you on your break.”

“I love you too ma.”

Corell flipped the switch to the bathroom and made way to her baby sister room. “El. Time to get up love bug.”

The covers shifted and moved from on top of her head. Rubbing the sleep out her eyes, Elara grumbled, “Good Morning.” Corell chuckled, “We need to have a talk though.”

Elara sat up, giving her older sister the required attention. “What do we need to talk about?”

“I just want you to be good at school. I know I’m just your sister and not mom but just give me a little break on getting trouble at school. Don’t get suspended again okay?” Corell sat on the bed beside El. She gave her a hug, “I love you sis!”

Elara nodded her head hugging back, “I love you too sis! I won’t get suspended again.”

————————

Bucky waited by his car for Elara’s to pull in. Yesterday the conversation between him and Rydee went in the direction of Elara’s truthfulness. He should’ve believe his best friend but he didn’t and now he regrets it.

Elara’s Honda accord pulled into the parking lot with her speakers blasting. Her sister gifted her car after passing her driver’s test. Today she looked beautiful as ever getting out the car . She always look great but today she caught his attention way more.

Those shorts looked so good on her body, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Damn, why is he feeling this now? Maybe he now notices her because he can’t get near her. Her lips looked soft as she talked to Kaylee, her skin glowed with the sun. Them legs, whew, he knew she was going to get dressed coded. She is a fine piece art that he didn’t want no one to have.

To admit to himself, he was falling for his now ex-best friend. He definitely had to get her back. Bucky opened his book bag on the hood of his car, seeing if he had a pair of shorts. He did. James walked past the girls to head to the football field and he tossed her a pair of shorts.

Elara caught the tossed folded shorts in confusion, “What is this? I should throw it somewhere else.” She opened them to see that it was shorts.

“Girl he doing you a favor, you know they going to dress code that ass after these photos.” Kaylee swiped her finger to find the right filter and when she did, she held the phone out and they posed.

He backed off for now, trying to find his best mates. “Man I messed up with Elara guys.” Bucky sigh as he sat down at the cafeteria table. Loki peeped up from his book.

“Steve tried to stop your argument yesterday but you guys just kept going.”

“I know she just made so mad at first cause I didn’t believe her. I talked to Rydee and she spilled to me that all of it was true. I regretted everything and I’m so mad at myself for doing Elara like that.” Bucky ran his hand through his long brown hair. He looked around the cafeteria, in hopes of finding Elara. She’s been on his mind all morning.

“Women are emotional beings. The argument from yesterday really cut deep for her. You have to give her time Buck, that’s all.” Steve shrugged his shoulders, then took a sip of his juice. Bucky skimmed through the cafeteria once again, noticing that Elara’s bookbag took an empty spot by Kaylee. He raised an eyebrow, getting up from the seat.

“James where you going?” Tony asked as Bucky grabbed his phone. The question was ignored as Bucky left the cafeteria with a little scurry. Once making it in the halls, he turned the corner to see Elara talking to this guy.

Jealousy kicked in on Bucky and he stood there debating on if he wanted to step in. She had on her outfit from earlier which means she either took em off or never wore them. The guy had grabbed Elara’s waist pulling her closer and that was Bucky’s last straw.

Anger flowed through his veins. Without thinking, Bucky made way over to Elara. His arm snakes around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. “Sorry for the interpretation she gave you but she’s mine,”

“My bad Bucky. Bye Elara.” The guy straight faced Bucky but gave El a smile then left them standing there. Elara tried to take deep breaths but it wasn’t working.

“Bucky what the fuck are you doing?!”

“You don’t need to be talking to him Elara.“

Elara waved him off, “You made it very clear to me yesterday that you chose her. So the best thing you can do is leave it at that.”

“Then you out here with these shorts on like come on. I gave you pair to wear, where are they?”James furrowed his eyebrows.

“I’m not listening to you talk to me about that. I don’t care!”

He can’t focus when she look this good. Bucky pulled her closer to him, “Elara I’m sorry. I really am.” Elara snatched away from him.

“No! No you can’t do this apologizing shit. You hurt me yesterday all because I chose to take up for you. I am your best friend and you still took her side!” Elara raised her voice, tears fell down her cheeks. “Bucky I don’t want nothing to do with you right now!”

“I can’t argue with you El, I have a soft spot for you. I’m putting everything aside for you. I’m genuinely sorry,” Bucky wiped her tears away, looking into her chocolate eyes. He hated seeing Elara this way, he could tell that really hurt her feelings and thats why he's willing to apologize instead of argue.

Elara didn’t give in as much as she wanted too. “ No, Bucky.” She moved his hand away, trying to farther distance between them. Their eye contact never broke. He wrapped his arm around her waist again and backed onto the wall, his arm hovered above as he leaned down placing his lips onto hers.

Just a simple kiss but it meant everything to them.

——————-

Bucky and Elara sat on the front porch waiting on Kaylee to pull up. He insisted on doing whatever she was doing today so they can spend more time together.

“Is this going to hurt?” Bucky sat beside Elara eyeing the pack. Having his best friend back had him feeling complete. Now a part of him wonder where they stand now that they’ve kissed. They haven’t talked about it but it haven’t been any weird vibes either.

“No Bucky.” She laughed taking out her pre roll that Kaylee took her personal time on. “Well the cough might be a bit much.”

Bucky nodded looking a little uneasy at the blunt.

two minutes later

Kaylee pulled up in her brother’s car for the session. Nothing like a good ole hotbox that’ll get you right.“Oouh Bucky you finna be highh.” Kaylee laughed as he got in the back and Elara got in the front.

“Bestieee!”

“Bestie!”

“You guys were just on the phone a second ago.” Bucky complained from the backseat. Both girls shrugged their shoulders laughing.

Kaylee sparked the blunt.

————

Elara turned around to see Bucky eyes red as hell. “Bucky you good?” Her blinking felt so slow.

He started smiling, not taking his eyes off her. “Yeah.” Without her noticing, he’s been watching her majority of the time and everything she did, El looked so beautiful to him.

El laughed so hard, he looked so stupid right now. His long hair was sticking to his face a bit, his cheeks were red with sweat on them, his arms glistening in sweat from the heat of the hot box since he had on a black wife beater.

(Can you imagine that? im high asf fantasizing about this shit)

(my ideal bucky with a wife beater and sweaty. i love civil war bucky cause he soo beefy like how i like it😩. it turns me onn)

He looked so fine, like El couldn’t stop staring at him fine. Kaylee had interrupted her fantasy by talking shit to Bucky. “Damn Bucky why you smiling so hard at my girl.” she looked into the rear view mirror.

“Cause she’s beautiful.” Bucky winked at her which made Elara weak in the knees. He don’t know what he does to her. Their eye contact never broke, now making El want to sit back there with him and slam her lips onto his. She passed the blunt to him, fighting the urge to fuck this man.

“How long have you been doing this Elara and where the hell have I been?” Bucky asked then took a hit. Elara just stared at his chest.

my god.

“El, bitch he asked you a question.” Kaylee nudged her back into life.

“Oh shit I don’t like onions in my food.” Elara rub the back of her neck.

“girl what the fuck is you talking about?” Kaylee laughed, nudging El then she started laughing "Girl I was thinking about something to eat." Bucky joined in to until everyone was coughing, it was time to get out.

The three of went to Kaylee’s house after the smoke session. Kaylee lead straight to the kitchen, her mother had made a nice dinner. "You know you don't need two drinks Bucky." Elara giggled as she tried to dodge his kisses. They were sitting on the couch while the food heated up. “You don’t know what I need El.” He laid on top of her, just being annoying.

"Give me a kiss!"

"Ah!"

They rolled onto the floor with her now laying on top of him. They were in a laughing fit.

Elara filled in the gap between them, as Bucky hands flew to her waist. He could never get tired of kissing her. "Mhm." He adjusted her on top of him, letting his friend grow which she most definintely felt.

"Bucky!" Elara giggled pulling away from him. She was turned on but was not ready. "I'm going to go check on the food."

He licked his lips nodding, loving the view as she got up and walked away. Bucky laid there for a second until he heard buzzing. It wasn't his business until he heard it buzz again. Peeking up slowly, He noticed Elara's phone sitting on the couch, lit as another notification flashed on the screen.

It burned his insides to check but Bucky was quick to give in. Seeing that they were IMessages, he typed in her password, going to them to see that it was from that guy in the hallway.

Tre

Are you still coming to see me tonight?

Tre

You act like you can't text back so text me later.

"What the fuck?" Bucky mumbled getting pissed off the second he read the messages, not knowing that Elara was making her way back to him. "Bucky the food is- Why are you going through my phone??" Seeing his hard expression, she knew he had saw the messages between her and Tre.

Bucky stood up, holding a tight grip on her phone.

Their eye contact never broke.

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

Whewww not Bucky feelin that same jealous El felt.

anyway.

Stay Slutty My Friends <3

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x black oc #bucky barnes x female reader

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justaredheadf1fan · 1 year

Text

What the hell was this, Australia?

Sup people!

No, I did not wake up to watch Quali at 7am. I mean, I could still be asleep but here we are 🤣

Quali - Saturday

Let's see what this mess of a weekend takes us now.

Sargeant having some trouble there. CHECO GOES OFF. YES!!!!! Red Flag and it's a RBR. Life is good. He'd been having a tone of trouble during FP3. But why is it never his damn teammate!?

That was a rather quick one, pretty quiet so far apart from the Checo snafu. Sharl is going through it apparently, poor boy is struggling.

Q1 is coming to an end and expectations are running wild at the moment.

Merc babies please proceed to move your asses out of the drop-out zone, I'm about to have a heart attack. LOL LANCE P1. There we go, babe!

I was gonna say "the Ferraris are fighting!" but I see Sharl getting P1 from Stroll and Carlos just being around. And Norris keeps just going off track like he's talking a walk.

That bird has been reborn after that near miss 🤣 How on Earth is Nico right there on the top? He's doing quite a good job lately. Lewis joining the party right at the end.

The battle begins, I know how this ends but seeing it myself hours later feels exactly as exciting as it would've at 7am.

LEWIS GOES P1!!! Shame it just lasts for a minute, but God does it feel right!

Rain is on the way and there's just time for one last push. Okay I believe I've just seen the reason why Sharl was all salty right after Quali.

What the fuck was Nico doing? Shit and Alonso gets P2, Jesus this is a fucking nailbiter!! But here come the Merc boys, right the last second they make it!! God, what is this!!!!!

Just watched the interviews post Quali and it's so funny how Lewis and George are so in sync for everything, including leaving Sid the sloth behind without missing a beat 🤣 I love to see it, why lie about it.

More of this stuff tomorrow I hope, it's an amazing start, way better than I anticipated, so hoping for the good stuff again.

Race - Sunday

G'day everyone, I'm dead right now. Why is it so early? 🥹

This is about to start now, and I can't be any happier that McLaren is looking so bad. Well deserved.

It's go time. GEORGE TAKES P1, SHARL OFF TRACK TO THE GRAVEL AND LEWIS FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE GETS P2!!!!!! Safety Car coming out after Lance pushed Sharl off track to the gravel. Boy what a start!

Fraudstappen (yes, I'm coming back to this because he deserves it) complaining on the radio about Lewis pushing him out. Are you fucking kidding me? You fuck up the start because every time you have Lewis close you lose your shit and then you can't even defend your position, so "he pushed you off". Go fuck yourself.

That said, even Carlos had a better start. Quite impressive. But why does everything bad always happening to Charles? It's so unfair, my baby does not deserve this.

George shut up. Please, I love you a lot but lately you're getting on my nerves. Yes, Lewis is attacking, he's come to take no prisoners. But that's Lewis Hamilton you're talking about and last time you fucked around and you might just find out now.

ALBON IS OUT! SAFETY CAR DEPLOYED FOR THE SECOND TIME IN LESS THAN 10 LAPS! AND LEWIS IS P1, STOP THE COUNT! STOP THE FUCKING COUNT! And this turns into a Red Flag.

My, poor Sharl. So unfair. Why can't he have something nice? What is it that he has to do? Oh God and that camera angle from Nico????? Scary as fuck tbh.

So, it's a Standing Start now. I'm scared but I know Lewis can do this with his eyes closed. Alonso just behing Cuntstappen, this calls for a crash between the two. IN ALONSO WE TRUST.

COME ON LEWIS, HERE WE GO. FERNANDO FOR FUCK'S SAKE GET THE MORON. The restart is being investigated now due to half the cars stopping in the same spot. Jesus.

DRS enabled and Alonso flopped. I hate this. I mean, who wouldn't catch the leader with an illegal car? No surprises. But still he cries when he's been passed fair and square. Asshole. How is it possible getting 2 SECONDS in HALF a lap? And no team complains or does anything? It's unbelievable.

So Alonso suddenly has pace again and it's just in time to get to Lewis, but he "couldn't" do anything to catch Fraudstappen. What a surprise.

GEORGE HAS FIRE ON THE BACK OF HIS CAR. LEWIS ALL ALONE NOW, SHIT. He had to stop at the exit of the pit lane and it's now closed. Facing a VSC now. It's 3 cars down so far today. Shit Australia, don't make it worse now.

Back to racing again, just hope Alonso flops the same way he does agains the idiot. This feud with Lewis (only Lewis) is just uncalled for. He's the only driver he's doing this with. Never fights Cuntstappen but Lewis appears and it's his time to start doing something every single time.

At least if anyone can manage the tyres and do a fantastic job defending his position, that's Lewis. I just wish he could catch Sid the Sloth again and slap him in the face, but as I said, with an illegal car even the rest of us could win that easily.

Alonso back to playing his game again. Can this race please end already? This has been enough. I'm dying here. And Carlos... Yes, that overtake on Pierre was fantastic but he manages that once every 8 races? He's above Sharl on sheer luck, not because he deserves anything, same as his seat in Ferrari, purely because of his last name, because he shouldn't be there, he's done nothing really worthy of getting a Ferrari seat. And I'll die on this hill.

Lewis setting Fastest Lap twice is just something worth watching. Other than this, I really want to go back to sleep, this is bullshit.

I hope Pierre catches Carlos, he deserves it. Cuntstappen going off to the grass and losing 3 full seconds. Can't he just have a PU problem? Can't care enough either about Norris getting passed Nico. McLaren needs to flop 100%.

KEVIN NO!!!! HE HAS A FAILURE AND HAS TO STOP ON TRACK. SAFETY CAR DEPLOYED. He's lost a wheel too!? I can't believe this. Will they finish under SC at the race that Masi's watching? Or will they race until the end? RED FLAG. AND IT'S A STANDING START? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!

I'm sorry but no. This is fucking stupid and unacceptable. It's so clear. They set the precedent in Abu Dhabi and they just feel like they can do it all over again anytime they feel like it. Un-fucking-believable. This sport is so unserious.

God, I hate this shit. I can't cross any more fingers right now. AND YESSSSSS CARLOS HITS FERNANDO!!!!!!! NOOOO ESTEBAN AND PIERRE NO!!!!!! ANOTHER RED FLAG!!!!

And this is what happens when the FIA does whatever they want to fuck around with one driver. They put every single one of them at risk, because on a 2-lap race everyone will risk it. Fucking morons, this could've been avoided by not restarting or just by restarting under SC (which would've been nonsense too tbh). This is shameful.

Now what? We don't have any news from Esteban and Pierre, are they even okay? I really do, that was so unlucky for both of them. Shame they had to pay for this bullshit. We need a body to control the FIA. I'm sorry but they shouldn't be in charge on their own anymore. This is absolutely stupid, dangerous and someone will get killed again if they keep acting like this. They can't be trusted.

So I guess it'll be a rolling start and it'll end up the way it's looking now? God I should've never got up to watch this 🤣 In the mean time, Lewis is vibin' and Toto is making friends. Please, let this be done.

5-second penalty for Carlos for hitting Alonso. All in favor of Carlos crashing against Fernando, but the penalty is well deserved. The FIA should've done this differently once again? absolutely. But fuck him anyway 🤷🏻‍♀️ He's the one that's caused everything on that restart, directly and indirectly.

That said, something was just brought to my attention through here as the restart appears on my screen. A certain individual was not positioned correctly at the restart. Guess who? And guess what will happen? Nothing. I do hope Mercedes and Aston Martin complain. I mean, they were super tough about this exact thing with both Esteban and Fernando, but now they're gonna give a pass to this person? That's unexpected, huh?

The only thing in this world making all of this worth is Lewis' smile. Seriously, we don't deserve him. Especially Mercedes right now, but that's a whole other story. The Cool Down room giving us one of those unexpected moments between Lewis and Alonso. It's funny, actually.

It's finally over, I just need to go back to sleep before I pull my hair out after this shit. Good thing it's another 2 weeks before the next one. This is not the sport I used to love, in all seriousness. This is just a circus. There's no sport in this left.

Peace out!

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raijae · 1 year

Text

Red Snow

Summary: Alice is controlled by another being and does the unthinkable.

Word Count: 651

Warnings: Mentions of blood and violence

Tags: @flowerslut @twilight-secret-gift-exchange

Event: Twilight Secret Santa Gift Exchange

A/N- This is my fic account I enetered into the event with my other account @flesh--amnesiac I sincerely apologize for the late secret santa gift. This secret santa was ho-ho-horrible this year and should be put on the naughty list. For 10 plis years. Tumblr erased my original fic and moodboard that was queued and set to post on the 25 whilst I was on vacation. I came back this morning to find that nothing was posted. I had to rewrite it and honestly I wish I could've given you the long fic you deserved. It's a lot different and shorter than the original idea/work but nonetheless I hope you enjoy it. I am truly sorry.

He expected death to come for him at some point. Maybe in the form of Maria coming to take him back into her cold dead grasp. Maybe in the form of the Volturi trying to take his heart, Alice, away. But he never in his wildest dream thought it'd be by her hands.

Her beautiful delicate hands. The hands that once touched him so softly despite not needing to. The hands that comforted him at his worst instead of pushing him away. That touched him with such love and adoration. The hand that would tangle themselves in his hair. The same delicate hands that were now dripping a mixture of red and black onto the wet snow covered ground next to his head.

Nothing could have prepared him for this. Fate had finally decided it was time for him to pay for all that he had done in the cruelest way posssible. Alice stood above him drenched in blood and vemon. She was looking down at him, her eyes feral and as dark as vantablack. Her body was rigid like that of a wild beast it contrasted greatly to her normal carefree demeanor. The rage that radiated off her was thick and suffocating.

He couldn't do anything, for the first time he was at a loss. He couldn't bring himself to fight back not with the possibility of her coming back to him. There was always a possibility, he'd seen it happen before. Although, the chances of coming out of this alive were slim to none. Looking up at her, he couldn't help but think her rage was the most beautiful site he had ever seen.

"Alice... darling... please... hear me... come back to me..." he said his voice strained. She didn't respond it was as if he never spoke a word.

"Please, Alice, I can't fight you. I won't. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I maimed you. Please, darling, come back to me." He tried again but this time she had grabbed him by the neck. He tried to move but she just kept catching up to him. Whoever or whatever was controlling her made her faster and stronger than ever. He grit his teeth as she began to squeeze slow and hard. He could feel each and every crack that formed on his pale scarred skin.

He knew this was going to be it. He wouldn't and couldn't stop her. He would let her kill him if it meant he was alive. He knew the rest of the clan would take care of her. Once he was dead the spell would be broken and all control would be obsolete.

"Alice if you can hear me..... just know that this isn't your fault..... I wouldn't have wanted it to end any other way........ You being the last thing I see is the only thing I want...... I love you with every fiber of my being.....more than life itself..... Please just live for me........ I'm sorry I couldn't stop this.... that I wasn't strong enough to-"

Five days later Alice awoke from what she could only assume was some type of sleep. Carlisle was the first to greet her. He wore his usual calm smile but his eyes held something resembling sorrow in them. She assumed it was due to her current state. She also noticed that she couldn't see. Maybe her powers weren't fully there yet? He checked her reflexes and asked her a few questions which confused her. It was then that she realized Jasper wasn't in the room and she couldn't sense him anywhere.

"Carlisle? Where's Jasper?" She asked as she looked out the window. She hadn't noticed his sudden shift in demeanor or that Edward and Bella had walked into the room. When she turned around it hit her and then everything went blank. The last thing she saw was Bella rushing at her.

#twilight #jasper hale #jasper #jasper whitlock #alice cullen #jalice #twilight fic #jasper x alice #secret santa #moodboard

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kwritingbooks · 2 years

Text

co-written by @shroombloomm & @kwritingbooks

read on wattpad or tumblr masterlist

Aurora and Harry finally realize there are consequences to every decision they make. But have they realized this too late?

AU: star-being!harry x astronomy-student!aurora

Chapter Content Warnings: mature content

Date of update: 10/12/22

Harry's POV

Being a human was confusing. There were so many emotions that came with it. Things that I had never really felt before. Everything was still fresh and new, and I was still getting into the swing of things. It was a lot to take in, even if I had already been here for a while.

Although, given my age outside of Earth, was it really that long at all?

Aurora's kiss was something that set something off in me. My chest felt like there were butterflies flying around on the inside and it made my palms sweat. I had never felt that way with someone before. It could have been caused by the possibility that things were felt differently on Earth than back on my planet.

But, I wasn't all that worried about the logistics of feelings. I was worried that I pushed her away with my advances, but last night reassured me that we were okay. She was feeling the same things that I was feeling too. I didn't have much time to celebrate the victory in my case, because I was quickly reminded that this was the opposite of what I should have been doing.

I felt nervous that my father was going to find out somehow. I wasn't even supposed to be around her. I wasn't supposed to grow a relationship with anyone. I did feel incredibly nervous that my father would scold me, or even worse, throw me off the mission. This was my one shot to show him that I could save the world. To show him that I wasn't a lost cause. I could be equal to Leon, if not better.

I laid in bed, staring at the wall as my eyes flickered around the rays of sun that danced across the wall from the blinds. I counted the streams of lights over and over again, but I couldn't get my mind off of Aurora. The way her hands roamed around my body, or the way her lips felt on my skin. It burned, but it was a good burn. A confusing burn. One that made me twitch from between my legs.

I rolled over onto my back letting out a sigh as I tried to get my mind off of it. Alas, the feeling still persisted deep within me. Painfully so.

I blinked hard, looking down at the hardened length that now created a rise in the blankets. I was embarrassed, as I hadn't thought about exploring my new human body. I took showers, I used the bathroom, but that was all it was good for. I had never explored any further.

Never thought I needed to.

Though, this situation that was resting between my legs had been similar to what it felt like when Aurora was rubbing up against me. I remembered how good it felt, and how it made my legs shake. It was an other-worldly feeling. I had almost wondered if I could make myself feel that way without her presence against me. By myself.

My fingers tapped against my stomach softly, deep in contemplation as my length still throbbed in my underwear. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath as my fingers slowly slid down to my briefs, toes curling in anticipation for what was to come.

I didn't even know what to expect, all I knew was my mind was telling me to keep going. That this was what I was supposed to do.

So that was what I did.

Gulping thickly, my fingers slid carefully under my briefs. My two fingers ran across a slick mess and I almost retreated my hand in confusion. It was wet. Sticky. Was that from me? From being–I suppose, excited? Feeling this way? Aurora told me this was what excitement felt like one time.

My breathing was shaky as my two fingers started to rub up and down my shaft. My cock shifted at the feeling, my breathing nearly stopping as I felt the same sensation from the night I was on acid with Aurora.

I took a flat palm, rubbing up and down my dripping cock slowly as my eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. Pleasure flowed through my thighs, my stomach clenching as my breathing shortened. I bit down on my lip, shifting my hips up carefully to create more friction. When I closed my eyes, all I could see was Aurora. She was all I could think about. My body seemed to have some sort of reaction to it. The sticky mess was getting lost in my pubic hair, pooling around my pelvic bone as I continued to rub myself more and more.

"Oh my stars." I whispered to myself breathlessly. One of my hands reached out to grip the sheets as I continued my embarrassing act, my head tilting back and forth at the pleasure that I brought myself.

My toes curled harder, getting lost in the moment. My forehead started to sweat at the feeling, head swimming as the unfamiliar—yet so familiar—feeling overtook me. I felt as if I was close to peaking this cycle of pleasure. I was on top of the world, my body shaking with euphoria.

I was gonna—

A loud ringing noise rang through my ears. I nearly yelped, my hand sliding out of my pants as I pushed myself onto my ass. My breathing was staggering, nose flaring. I immediately started to feel as though I had done something wrong.

Did I break my human form? What just happened?

Gulping down the frog in my throat, I followed the noise of the ringing.

It was my phone. Vibrating and making loud noises to let me know Aurora was calling me. I quickly ran a sweaty hand through my hair and picked the phone up.

"H-Hello?" My voice cracked. I quickly cleared my throat. "Hello? Aurora?"

"Why do you sound like you just ran a mile?" Her soft, yet flirtatious voice came through the speakers. A giggle broke through her words as she then waited for me to reply.

I bit on my lip, shaking my head as I pushed back the truth that sat on the tip of my tongue.

"I was working out." I breathed out shakily, trying to ignore the still-aching, yet extremely sensitive, feeling in my pants as I slowly sat back onto the bed. "Everything okay?"

"Oh..." She whispered out. A silence fell for a few seconds before her breathing picked up. "Actually, can I come over? To talk? It's nothing...too bad."

My brow perked. What could possibly be wrong that she wanted to come talk? Did I do something wrong again?

"Is it something I did?" I asked softly, although the nerves in my voice came through much more than I had intended them to be.

"No, no...well..." She elongated, sighing out softly. "No, not really. I can just tell you everything when I come over."

"Okay..." I nodded to myself, my fingers digging into the bed slightly. My nerves were shot from the sudden uneasy feeling of the conversation we were about to have, but I swallowed the nerves and tried to put on a brave face.

It was kind of weird that I was more nervous about seeing Aurora than the other stressful matters at hand.

Like the Earth ending.

Or whatever.

When we got off the phone, I let the throbbing feeling in my pants go away before I took a long shower. I tried to push the thoughts of my sinful, awkward actions to the back of my mind. Having a human body was quite weird. There were so many sensations that this body could feel; one of them being pain and pleasure. Maybe even both at the same time.

Back home, our feelings came from our soul. It wasn't a physical feeling. It was mental. I wasn't foreign to intimate settings. I wasn't ignorant to it either. Although, on Earth, I was a bit ignorant to the new body languages and feelings.

When I got out of the shower, I hurried myself into the kitchen to get myself a cup of water. Lately, my energy had been much more drained than I was used to. I had hardly ever felt this way back home, but I was quick to realize the vast difference between being a star-being and human being. It wasn't until I had become human that I realized how fast this energy could drain.

I had also slept a lot harder on Earth than I ever had before. Some mornings I even found myself waking up and going back to sleep just because. Which really said something considering I didn't have to sleep in order to survive here. Yet, I still found myself craving that bliss of rest anyway. Maybe it was just a "placebo" effect. I wasn't sure. Aurora taught me that word, but it sounded made up.

A knock came to the door, my body stiffening with sudden nerves. I gawked at the door as if it was going to bite me. My palms started to sweat slightly, but I made myself open the door anyway. I blinked, and there she was.

Beautiful.

Aurora stood with a soft smile on her lips, but her eyes were sullen. I wasn't entirely sure about what she wanted to talk about, but the look in her eyes told me it wasn't necessarily good. I offered her a reassuring smile as I moved to let her in.

"Hi, Aurora." I shook out.

"Hey." She sighed with a sad smile as she made her way into the living room. She sat her things down onto the table before sliding herself onto the couch. Looking up at me, her smile began to falter as I approached her timidly.

"Is everything–"

"I'm scared." She shook out, picking at her fingernails quickly. Her leg started to bounce slowly, but picked up the pace with each moment. "I should've told you sooner, but I didn't because—everything that happened, it was just too much. I..."

"Aurora? What's going on?" I sat by her side quickly, turning my body towards her as I set my hands onto hers. Her fingers interlocked with mine as she took in a deep breath. Her body language was different than I knew it to be. She was upset.

"You can tell me anything, you know?" I whispered to her. She glanced towards me out of the corner of her eye, biting down on her plush lower lip before it disappeared into her mouth. It took her a couple of moments to regain her composure, but once she did, I wish that I had never heard the words come from her mouth.

"Professor Collins knows something. He's been tracking the star, he knows from the moment it lands to the moment it leaves." Aurora's hands grew tighter around mine as she looked deeply into my eyes. "What are we going to do? He wants me on this assignment. I don't know why. Maybe I'm just being paranoid–but there's no way he would know it's you, right?"

I was at a loss for words. I didn't know what to say. The uncomfortable feeling of anxiety shook my chest as I inhaled a sharp breath.

"Okay." I breathed out harshly, running my fingers through my thick curls slowly before nodding towards her. "Okay. This is...news. Um..."

"Is there any way you can travel somewhere else to go home? Instead of going home in the park, maybe I can drive you somewhere else and–"

"It won't work." I interjected. "Stars can be seen from millions of miles away, no matter the direction. The plan would fail. We must think of something else."

Silence fell between the both of us. I was supposed to go home tonight, but now I was too scared to. If I left and got caught, all of the work would have been tarnished. Ruined.

I felt so foolish. I had been so caught up with Aurora and all of the human activities surrounding me to notice Professor Collins. I should have been more careful. Remembering back to when I first landed, Collins had mentioned the backwards star, but I had forgotten that he was speaking about me. I was that backwards star on the news. They were looking for me. If I were to get caught, it would compromise everything I had worked for.

Father would be so mad at me. Disappointed.

I don't want to fail him.

Aurora nervously picked at her cuticles, glancing towards me briefly. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she was choking it back.

We both spoke at the same time.

"Harry–"

"Aurora–"

"Sorry, I just–" Aurora breathed out with a sad smile curved on her lips. She suddenly turned towards me, pulling my hands into her lap as she looked up at me. "Stay...stay here. Don't go back. It's too risky right now and–"

"Aurora..." I frowned. "I can't. If I stay too long, my life force will drain. I only get weaker the longer I stay on Earth. If I were to overstay, I–I don't know what exactly would happen, but my father told me it would be bad. I can't–"

"I'll take care of you!" Aurora interjected with a bounce of her body as she moved towards me. "You can stay at my house, I will take care of you if you get sick. We have so many hospitals and doctors and everything here, I promise. I'm just so scared, Harry...I don't want anything–to..."

Her eyes started to well up with tears, shining up towards me with her glossy pair. My heart felt like someone was taking a pick-axe and it had started to chip away at my heart. It was shattering piece by piece. Her hands shook in mine, and I slid them out of her grasp and quickly wrapped my arms around her to pull her into me.

"Okay." I shushed her while my fingers trailed up and down her back slowly. My face hid into her hair, my brows pinched together tightly. I felt her pain. I didn't know how. But, I was in tune with her. "Okay, darling, okay. I...I will stay."

I just hoped I wasn't making another stupid decision.

The first day after I decided to stay felt normal.

Well, not normal, but normal enough.

I wasn't sure if I was just hyper vigilant of my body, expecting it to explode into a million pieces—or evaporate into thin air, but the joints that kept my body together seemed to be working overtime to keep me afloat.

I kept my demeanor calm though, for Aurora. She kept checking on me every few minutes as if she wasn't already in the same room as me.

Sometimes she would even ask if I was hungry, but then would press her palm up to her forehead whispering something along the lines of, "Gah! He doesn't eat, remember?"

It made me laugh, even though she looked genuinely quite flustered over her forgetfulness.

Her bed was comfy though. We had decided it was best to conserve as much energy as I could, so she put me on what she called "bed rest." She had made me a bowl of liquid. It smelled delicious, and it made my mouth salivate at the smell. Something that had never happened to me before. Even if she knew I couldn't eat, she made it for me anyways. She insisted, saying that her mom used to make her this soup when she fell ill and it made her feel better every time.

And I ate every bit of it. It was delicious.

She even moved the TV into her room from the living room. She would try to hand me the remote every time, but I would deny it each instance. I always said it was because there were too many options, which was true, but really I just liked her to pick her favorite shows.

Watching what she liked to watch in her free time seemed to tell me more about her that I didn't already know. The way her eyes would beam when The Office theme song would ring through the speakers, or how she would be doubled over in pain from laughter when It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia was on.

I never understood the humor, but watching her laugh never failed to make me laugh the same. I didn't even care if laughing exerted more energy, it was worth it if I could keep watching her smile the way that she was.

If happiness was a person, it was Aurora.

My Aurora.

Throughout the days, though, I felt–empty. Weak, even. I started to question the conditions of staying for too long. All I could hear in the back of my head was my father scolding me over and over again, really ingraining into my head that I shouldn't stay for more than three days. Even if he wasn't specific, I wasn't ready for what was going to happen to me.

On the third day of my stay with Aurora, she came home and made her way into the room where I was laying ghostly in the bed. I felt better when she was home, like I wasn't alone and that made me feel somewhat safe. Even if my body was somewhat deteriorating into nothing overtime. When I woke up later that morning, I subconsciously went to rub my eye and ultimately felt nothing.

And that was when I looked down to see that my body was quite literally see through. I was defying gravity and the laws of physics in many ways. I was just laying on the bed looking like some spirit that haunted an empty home. I continued to appear as strong as I could muster, but Aurora was terrified and had immediately regretted her choices. I tried to reassure her that I was okay, even if I had a hard time speaking or even breathing. Sometimes it felt like I was dead.

"You're obviously not okay." Aurora was nearly in tears as she tapped her feet around the room, grabbing her things carelessly as she tried to choke back a worried cry. Something that I had never seen her do.

And I hoped to never see it again. To be quite honest, it was heart wrenching. Seeing her tore up in such a way.

Worried.

Because of me.

"I said I'm okay." I tried to reassure her once more, but my voice was gravelly and raspy, which made Aurora shoot a look back at me. One that could even kill me if she stared a second longer.

"Aurora..." I sat myself up off the bed, weakly, feeling a sharp pain in my chest just doing that. I hissed.

"Stop!" She couldn't hide the frown on her face even if she tried. Aurora rushed to my side, placing a hand onto my chest, but in doing so, it went through like I was nothing. I was something of a ghost. "Harry..."

"I know." I tried to calm her, but she could only do so much. The only thing that sucked about this was that I couldn't feel her anymore. The first few nights she held me and it was calming. She was like a natural relaxer to my uneasy joints. She made me feel better.

"I shouldn't have suggested that you should stay here." She rushed out as she chipped away at her nails softly. She watched my body as I laid back down. There wasn't much more that I could say, or even do. I felt tired. Tired to the point where I really couldn't continue to be much more active than I already am. Even if it's just laying there.

Everything hurt.

"Can you just–go back home?" She crawled onto the bed, making a nest next to me. She laid on her side, staring into my tired eyes with a sniffle.

I just shook my head and closed my eyes.

It wasn't that I couldn't go home. It was that my energy was so low, I couldn't make it to my planet even if I tried. Hell, I wouldn't be able to make it a foot off the ground. I should've listened to my father, but I didn't want to get caught. I couldn't get caught. It could risk everything my family and I had built for this mission so far.

"Harry?"

"Mm?"

"Say something." She whispered shakily.

"Something." I whispered back, a smirk curling onto my lips lazily.

She rolled her eyes, rolling herself onto her back as she stared at the ceiling. I watched as she held her breath for a moment, her shaky chest becoming still as she closed her reddened eyes. I caught a wet stream gliding down the side of the temple. I reached out to wipe it away, but I couldn't even touch her. She couldn't even tell that I tried.

"Maybe this is why your dad told you not to stay here longer..." She trailed off. "What if you..."

Her voice trailed off once again. I laid there, feeling like I wasn't really there. Like I was just in the room but not in the room. I was dissociating, but I wasn't. I was silent, feeling myself drifting off. My eyes closed shut as I tried to relax myself with deep breaths.

"Harry?" Aurora's head rolled towards me, but this time I didn't have the energy to say anything back. I gave up on trying. "Harry, say something."

I'm trying.

"Harry??" Her voice showed panic. I let out a weak sigh, trying to let her know I was still there with her.

I'm okay.

"Please, wake up." Aurora's voice choked up. I felt the bed move, and felt her body come closer to me as she begged me to say something.

"Mm."

"No, say something." She wouldn't take it as an answer, but that was all I could give her. Just a hum. Or a sigh.

Aurora lifted herself from the bed and rushed out of the room. I didn't know where she was going, but I felt myself become a lot lonelier. My eyes slowly batted open, but my vision was blurred. I was fading away. I didn't regret staying here with Aurora, but I did regret not listening to my father. Perhaps I could have left earlier but not waited this long. Till I was truly unable to shoot myself back to my planet.

All I could do was hope.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. One that could've been my last breath, but thankfully it wasn't. Each breath I thought would be my last, but I kept breathing. I could only think about how I let myself down, and I let my whole planet down. There was nothing that Aurora could do at this point to save me. Even Earth's freshest water wouldn't have done anything, not that I could get it down anyways. The first couple of days helped, but I was quite literally transparent in my own form.

Moments later, I heard loud thuds and feet clunking against the hardwood floor. I felt myself smile, even if I wasn't physically. Just having Aurora near me made me feel safer.

But it wasn't Aurora.

Far from it.

"Harry?" A deepened, raspy voice filled the room. One that was too familiar.

Was that...?

"Harry! I got some water–!" Aurora busted through the room, but she was quickly silenced at the tall man in armor that was standing in the middle of the room. She nearly dropped her drink from how stunned she was. "What the–"

"Let's skip the pleasantries, shall we?" He sighed with a roll of his eyes as he walked over to my ghostly frame. "What have you done, brother?" He tsked.

"Brother? Wait, who are you–"

He glanced towards Aurora out of the corner of his eye. "I'm Leon, Harry's brother." He spun on his heel, now looking at her with hooded eyes. Aurora gulped thickly as she took a step back while Leon nearly boxed her into the corner of the wall.

"I should be asking who you may be." Leon's eyes scanned over Aurora's face in slight disgust before his gloved fingers grabbed her chin lightly, making her body go frigid in fear. "A human, of course." He paused as his hand fell to his side. "I'm here to get my brother, I'm not here for you, I can assure you of that."

Aurora felt her body relax as Leon turned back to me.

"How did you know?" Aurora's voice shook as she watched Leon get out a egg-like shell and open it. She was curious, squinting her eyes at him as a blue light beamed from it. Even if I couldn't see it in its full form, I knew what it was from the vague blue light that impacted my blurry vision.

Just like how humans had adrenaline to potentially save someone's life, we had something similar. It was invented ages before I was even born, and was used as a last resort if our body was to die—or be on the brink of dying, like mine was. I was relieved that Leon thought to bring it otherwise I would have been fucked.

"He hasn't been home in sometime." He said shortly as he looked down at the capacitor. "Our father sent me down here to come get him."

She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. "Is he..."

"Dead?" Leon shot her a daring look before letting out a dark chuckle. "No."

I wanted to kick myself in the ass. If I wasn't dead now, my father was surely going to kill me whenever I got back up to our home.

Leon kneeled beside the bed, placing the capacitor next to my body. Blue shadows worked its way out of the shell, landing down onto where I laid. Slowly, I felt myself come back to normal, but just enough to make me feel somewhat alive. Aurora watched as the glassy view of my body became more visible, one that she could reach out and touch–only if she dared.

But Leon stopped only halfway.

He wasn't going to let me off that easily.

"Harry, are you okay?" Aurora rested her hand onto my leg as she watched my chest shake with each breath I took. My arms hugged my body as I nodded softly. With parted lips, I mouthed a small 'okay' to her. She squeezed my leg carefully, letting me know that she was here for me.

I groaned out in pain. I could feel the muscles of my human body ache, and I stretched my legs out tiredly as I rolled onto my back with a huff. Aurora took a step back, watching as I struggled to get comfortable. There was a thin layer of sweat on my forehead as I stared up at Leon. Just the disappointing look he gave me was enough to make my stomach ache in pain.

"Leon..." I rasped out thickly, but he raised his hand to stop me from talking. I looked over towards Aurora who was standing at the end of the bed, her hands shaking as she watched the scene unfold in front of her.

"The only rule was not to get involved with humans." Leon cut to the point as his leather gloved fingers grabbed my jaw to make me look at him. My eyes rolled back as I sighed out, placing a weak hand onto his wrist. "And you've already exposed yourself."

I blinked hard.

I didn't know what to say. I knew what I was doing was wrong and I did it anyway. One of my weaknesses that I hated to admit was that I hated being alone.

And Aurora filled the void and more.

"Get up." Leon let go of my face as he stepped back. "Let's go back home before you nearly kill yourself again."

My creaky bones lifted myself painfully off the bed, shamefully. I felt embarrassed having Aurora watching me be scolded by my brother. I glanced towards Aurora with a frown, and she just stared at me, but spared me a small smile. I died a little inside knowing I would be away from her. Even with my health the last couple of days, I had enjoyed being with her. Around her. Even when I knew I shouldn't.

"I'm sorry, Aurora–" I choked out through a dry throat as I shook my head. "I'll be back soon enough. I just need to recover."

"Okay." Aurora whispered with a nod.

I didn't get time to give her a proper goodbye before Leon pulled me out of the house. He had a tight grip on my arm as he gave me the type of silent treatment that always sent my anxiety spiraling. Just as we made it to the backyard, I pulled myself out of his grip. Leon looked back at me with a cold expression.

"Don't..." I stopped myself as my eyes shut tightly. "Don't tell..."

Leon's cold expression faltered, his lip twitching as he stared at my softened, weak stature.

"Let's just go home, Harry."

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laurensliminalspace · 7 months

Text

Building confidence with chronic illness and disability

What does it look like to be empowered and confident with a disability or chronic illness?

I’ve been pondering this lately as I find it’s easy to get into the mindset that when my health improves or if I fully recover, then I’ll finally feel confident, badass and empowered. And yes, that’s partly true. Having more energy and wellbeing definitely gives me a huge boost in my mood and sense of self efficacy. I also think it’s great to work on improving our health as much as possible.

However, what do we do in the mean time? What would it look like to be the best version of myself, right here with my current circumstances? I've been pondering this question recently, and wanted to explore it further.

Unfortunately, many of us get trapped in a downward spiral that feels out of our control. Feeling unwell saps our self esteem, and having to stop jobs, reduce social activities or limit hobbies can be very depressing. It’s a vicious circle that can be tough to escape. Financial and health struggles can create so much anxiety and stress, it can feel crippling not just physically, but mentally, too. It can feel shameful and embarrassing, and often we just want to hide and protect ourselves.

There can also be a lot of self-consciousness about our physical bodies and appearance. For example, many medications can make people put on weight, fatigue can cause dark circles under the eyes, and allergies can make people’s faces look puffy. Surgeries can also leave people with scars and it’s normal to wonder if people will find you attractive, especially in the dating scene.

However, the great thing about working on our health and confidence is that it can also be an upward spiral. Confidence can help motivate and empower us to improve our health and life situation, and in turn the increase in energy and health can boost our confidence. I’ve found that even improving my health by 5% or 10% can make a surprisingly dramatic difference in my overall quality of life. Every little bit counts!

Here is my advice, based on my life experience - in no particular order:

One: Escape the comparison trap.

Stop comparing to others, especially other able bodied people. Even comparing to others with the same condition can be highly problematic, as people have wildly varying symptoms, different levels of severity, as well as different levels of support and financial resources. Many people with the same outward symptoms also have a completely different root cause (or combination of root causes). Not to mention the treatments that work for some may not work for others at all. Some people find a silver bullet solution, but for most people, it’s more complex than just one thing.

Focus on yourself and stay in your lane. Concentrate on your personal achievements and look at how far you’ve come. Being able to walk for five minutes may mean nothing to the average person, but it may be a huge milestone for you. Don’t forget to celebrate your wins! Even the small ones. Also embrace the reality that the journey is going to be up and down. You’re going to have good days and bad days. Don’t let that discourage you from continuing.

Two: Self compassion and self acceptance.

Work on talking to yourself with more love, compassion and acceptance. Acceptance is really important because we need to come to terms with our reality, which is often incredibly frustrating and painful. This often involves a great deal of grief too. It’s okay to feel all the emotions, and hold space for them. I find journalling, therapy and EFT tapping really helpful in this process. I also really like parts work, and the concept of unblending, as it helps me gain perspective on difficult emotions and parts.

Know that it’s okay to feel the sadness and anger. It’s also okay to feel envious and jealous of people who are able bodied and have easier lives. It’s normal. Don’t add insult to injury by beating yourself up over totally normal emotions!! Society encourages us to repress and deny our shadow, but we need safe spaces to talk about the tough stuff.

Being disabled and chronically ill comes with a huge amount of stigma, and often trauma, too. Get the treatment you need for any trauma that’s holding you back and sapping your spirit. I recommend EMDR and somatic therapy, but there’s lots of other modalities out there too.

Three: Own it fully.

This is easier said than done, but when you’re disabled or chronically ill, it’s better to own it and speak about it as confidently as possible. I find this is especially relevant in social or dating situations. I try to be honest, open and frank about my lifestyle and limitations, rather than hiding it or pretending I don’t have any conditions. This is sometimes a tough line to walk as you don’t want to overshare or freak people out, but in general I prefer to be up front with people.

This also includes freely using mobility aids in public settings, social situations or going on dates. I’ve become very comfortable using a mobility scooter to get around, and often take a walking stick with me too. It takes time to get used to this, but the more you do it, the less self-conscious you’ll feel. Some people find it helps to decorate their mobility aids or get a walking stick that looks funky. Canes can be incorporated into a steampunk, dark academia or dapper aesthetic in a fun way! Find a way to own it and make it your own, in a way that suits your personality and style.

Another area that can be challenging is dealing with dietary limitations. Strict diets and allergies can be tricky, but again, it’s better just to own it. I don’t eat at restaurants, but I still go to restaurants and cafes with friends and enjoy hanging out. Yes, it’s a little awkward sometimes, but you have to push through it. The right people won’t care, and will value your presence more than anything else.

Four: Seek supportive connections, friends and community, whether online or off.

Find friends, groups and events that are supportive, uplifting and accessible. Don’t hang around people who judge you or drag you down. Even people who constantly insist on giving annoying unsolicited advice (like "just drink more water!") can drain your precious spoons.

I know this is so much easier said than done, because being disabled or chronically ill can bring with it a great deal of isolation. It’s natural to just hang on to whatever connections you have, and not want to let go or burn a bridge. So be kind to yourself if there’s some people you’re just not ready to let go of right now. But keep looking for better friends who are going to life you up and who fully accept and celebrate you as you are.

Never, ever assume you have to tolerate any abuse or mistreatment because you’re disabled or chronically ill. You are not a burden and never deserve to be treated badly.

The same goes for dates and partners. Don’t settle for people who are toxic, judgemental or just tolerate you – rather than fully accepting and loving you right now, for who you are. Also, find people who respect and cherish you as a person, not for what you can do for them or what you achieve. People who are very focused on things like class, money and status are usually best avoided where possible.

Five: Cultivate a sense of purpose in your life that’s bigger than you.

I find when I’m focused on my purpose and calling, it’s easier to be confident because I’m not so focused on what other people think of me. I recognise that I have a calling that’s a lot more important than that! Obviously, this is easier said than done, especially if you can no longer work – or have had to change jobs, or reduce your work hours. Even volunteering can be surprisingly difficult when you have health limitations.

But purpose, meaning and calling in life are much greater than what we do for money, or even our hobbies. Relationships are a core source of meaning and purpose for many people. Being creative and growing spiritually are also significant. I’ve written more about this in other blog posts, but I find this is a significant piece of building a sense of empowerment in difficult circumstances. Reflecting on your core values can be really powerful and inspiring.

I’d recommend doing an exercise where you select words or phrases that represent your core values in life.

Six: Don’t be afraid to have fun, explore and try new things, as much as you can!

I find singing and dancing at home to positive, empowering songs can really boost my mood and confidence. It can be hard to be as spontaneous and active as I would like, but I still try my best to engage in life to the fullest extent of my capabilities. Sometimes this means asking for help or using mobility aids to get to certain events. It can also mean more planning ahead when travelling.

I really love riding my escooter, as it gives me an adrenaline rush but isn’t too tiring. Think outside the box and be open to new experiences. Brene Brown talks about engaging in laughter, song and dance in her guidelines for wholehearted living, and I think it’s applicable here. Watching hilarious movies and having a laugh with friends can be so uplifting.

Finally, don’t discount celebrating your sexuality. Disabled people are often portrayed as non-sexual, but exploring dating and sex can be a lot of fun and very empowering.

Practical suggestions:

Explore journalling about – what does it mean to live my best and fullest life with my current limitations? What does being empowered and confident look like for me right now? Brainstorm whatever comes to mind.

If you’re feeling rejected or unworthy, put your hand on your heart or your belly, and send love to the parts of you that are holding these emotions. I find self compassion practice can be really powerful.

EFT tapping is a great tool for working through negative core beliefs, like “I’m a burden” or “I’m not enough”.

If people give you a compliment, take a screenshot or write it down and save it into a folder on your computer for whenever you feel down and need a pick me up.

Try writing down your strengths, good qualities and things you like about yourself.

Create a celebration jar where you write down anything you’re proud of or qualities your love about yourself on little bits of paper. Put them in the jar and you can open it whenever you need a reminder. Another option is putting a marble or stone in a jar whenever you do something you’re proud of.

Experiment with visualising yourself as your most confident, empowered self. You could go back to a past memory where you were feeling your best, or imagine yourself in the future. I find doing this while listening to music can be really uplifting.

Use positive affirmations, for example: My worth and value is based on who I am, not on my achievements. I am confident. I am powerful. I deserve to be treated well. If it feels a bit fake or forced, you could try asking yourself, “What if I felt confident?” and see what arises.

Further links and resources:

Chronic Illness and Confidence: How to Rebuild

Facing the World with Confidence and Chronic Illness

How to be Confident While Being Chronically Ill

#chronic illness #disabled #me #cfs #mecfs #spoonie #disability #illness #mental health #confidence #mindset #fibromyalgia #mcas #empower #empowering #empowerment

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amethystunarmed · 6 months

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20 questions for fic writers

Thank you @marypsue for tagging me! (I'm sorry it is so late) This got VERY long, so I will put it under a cut.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

54, my god.

2. What’s your total word count?

188,134. Which seems both enormous and not enough lol.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now, I'm in a major Hatchetfield kick. Those musicals have me by the throat. But I am also working on a Stranger Things series too! However, I'm probably most known for my My Hero Academia stuff, I know a couple of those absolutely did numbers when I wasn't looking.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

Oh I'm pretty sure I know. *checks Statistics* Yep I was right. My top five (and six and seven) are all from my Truth series, which is a MHA Dabihawks AU where Hawks joins the League of Villains.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try! Sometimes I get overwhelmed and fall behind but I swear I always read them and love them and am so touched.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ummmm... Deadass, I think it was the first fic I ever posted, back in high school. It was a Doctor Who fanfic, about a Weeping Angel who feel in love with a human, and tried to stop killing for him, but was so hungry she ended up killing him instead. It's almost ten years old, but you can find it here.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I am once go back deep in my archives for this one. Back in 2015, I posted a Supernatural fic that was pure fluff, Karaoke. It was my idea of a series finale where everything was beautiful for once. Riiiiip.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I definitely have before, but only like once or twice and I immediately blocked them. It is always heartbreaking though. :(

9. Do you write smut?

Once that I posted! Though I may have an unfinished draft or two, lol

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes, absolutely! My crossover tend to be characters experiencing scenarios from other universes, rather than character meeting.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Mostly by the AO3 scraping stuff, though I have found some suspicious posts with stuff from the Truth series on other sites, but nothing really definite.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes and I dropped my phone when the request came in. I was so excited.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yeah I have!!! My go-to partner in crime is @little-engineer-who-cant, we've been writing together since middle school.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Oh god, this is hard. Ummm... I suppose the first ship I ever really super got into was Ten/Rose in Doctor Who, so it holds a special place in my heart.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

Honestly, one I really loved was an Adventure Zone Wicked au. There were a lot of great concepts in that one, but I never really got anywhere with it.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue! I love dialogue. It tends to be what I write first and then I go back and fill in the blanks.

I feel like I'm also pretty good at exploring concepts, like, taking things to their furthest extreme and exploring what it means in the universe.

Also angst. I love angst.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions. I just want you all to know what I am seeing in my head, not have to describe it. I really have to work at imagery, and making scenes feel alive.

Also fuck fight scenes.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I would do it if I felt confident that I or another person could edit it to be accurate. If I am google translating or something, I'd rather just do English italics or say what characters the language are speaking. I don't want to butcher another language.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

As mentioned previously, the first fic I published was for Doctor Who but god as a kid I wrote myself into stories all the time! Should have known I'd end up a writer. Probably Yu-Gi-Oh or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Ohhhhhh these are so hard. Ummmm... To be honest, I am so incredibly proud of I Need a Shovel to Love Him. It is one of my recent Hatchetfield fics and is an exploration of grief, and it probably the closest a piece of writing has ever been to exactly what I pictured in my head when I wrote it.

But! Trying to ignore the bias for recent works, So Few Men Can Carry It is probably up there. It is an OC focused story in the Truth universe, and I loved discussing healthcare in a world with professional superheroes and plan to do more original stuff with that concept, because I love it so much.

I'm going to tag @little-engineer-who-cant again, as well as @snarky-wallflower and @starpirateee. (Does anyone else like to be included in these? I need to make a list!)

#amethystuncensored #tag game #my writing #my fanfic

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violet-kink-rambles · 2 years

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Pt 1 | Working Late Too Often

Femme Feeder x Gender Neutral Feedee Themes: Workplace Setting, Weight Gain, Bribery, Intox, Stuffing, Public Stuffing, Soft Feedism, and the occasional Hard Feedism

Word Count: 4714

This is a slow burn story! I have no idea how many parts will be in this, but it will speed up over time. This part is just getting everything set up and some solo stuffing in the second half. No promises on when the next part is out, this was done over a few days but I've been in the mood to write lately so yeah :) Last thing before we start, nothing in this story is relevant to my real life except the starting dimensions and that I work in coding and graphic design. Use whatever names you want, you're the one reading it!

So I had just graduated college recently, it took 4 years of my life and more money than I wish to mention. But one of the things they forget to mention about computer science is just how long you’ll be sitting down every day. From 6 hours of classes to another 4 hours minimum at home to get your projects done you’re spending the majority of those 4 years sitting in front of a screen. Some might shy away from comp sci because of that alone… but that was one of the appeals for me. You see, I’m a bit of a fatty. I’ve never been super in shape, I’ve been on the thiccer side for as long as I can remember. But college reallllyyy made me blow up a bit, I went from a modest 6’3” and 225 to around 310 in only a few years! Sure I noticed it creeping up on me but to be honest… I kinda like it! I've just been eating what I want and waiting to see what happens.

My friends and family on the other hand have been on my ass about the gym and have kept offering me diet advice for the last couple of years now. Lately, it seems like the pressure has dropped off and they are finally accepting that this is just what I am now. Thank fuck for that, they just don’t get how hard it is to work out when you have to sit down for the majority of the day. After struggling to find a job for the first few months after graduation I finally got an interview at a mid-size startup! The pay isn’t great but the office offers decent benefits and they also offer meals at the office. Sure that can be kinda toxic since it encourages you to stay late but hey I’ll take what I can get. On the morning of the interview I was getting dressed to head out when I realized that I don’t have a proper fitting outfit, my shirt is taut against my torso and it was a bit uncomfy around the arms. And the pants… the fucking pants. I felt almost like a sausage casing, I was able to cover everything but there was no way I was gonna be able to hide how fat I am. Begrudgingly I picked up my bag and left the house, swearing to stop at a store to get a new wardrobe after the interview.

On the drive over I couldn’t help but feel hungry. If you know anything about America(especially Texas) then you know that you can't drive more than a block or 2 in town without seeing some restaurant or fast food place. As well as the pinnacle of fast food, the greatest to ever do it. Speckled all across the state like a fuck ton of salt on a table you can get food from the tastiest, most consistent, and most bang for your buck place of all. Whataburger, the bane of every fatass in Texas. It's hard not to stop there when the burgers are as big as your head, swapping fries for onion rings at no extra cost, and the drink sizes being pushed down one size. A medium is 32oz, and the large at a whopping 44oz, while a 2 liter of soda is 67oz. For $10-13 a fatty can be full with some great southern comfort food. I really wanted to stop but if I did then my outfit would be even worse! Deciding against it and just going hungry, I pull into the office parking lot about 10 minutes later and try and hype myself up.

“Ok V, you got this shit, light fucking work! You’ve done more leetcode over the last year than you thought you would in a fucking lifetime! You’ve got your degree, and you’ve done everything you can. If they don’t wanna hire you then it’s their loss!” I got out of the car and sauntered over to the building brimming with confidence despite my tight outfit. When I got inside and up to the 4th floor where the office was I saw this cute receptionist, your stereotypical brunette woman with a little bit of extra meat on her bones. She was on a call so I just waited for her to finish. A glance around the room gave me some high hopes about the environment I might be working in. On the wall a big mural of what appears to be a shaman meditating atop a hill, the grass closest to him overgrown compared to the rest and speckled with flowers. It just calmed me down a lot because it made me feel like personal growth is important here. But then all of a sudden the woman behind the counter greeted me.

R - Receptionist R- “Hey! What can I do for you today?” Me- “ Hey! I’m just here for the 2pm interview for the programming position you guys had listed” R- “Ah gotcha! You’re a little early but she should be ready for you, just head down the hall and knock on the 6th door to your right” Me- “Thanks! Hopefully, we will be working together soon :)” Walking down the hallway I’m really liking the aesthetic of this place, some off-white walls with an almost rosy black trim. You can just tell there’s been a lot of money put into this place from all the furnishings. Off to the left, I see a large open room through the glass wall, a lot of spacious cubicles, and what I can only describe as “groovy” corporate artwork on the walls. It’s an open-concept office, with not a lot of closed off areas except the personal offices to my right. After getting to the 6th door I take a deep breath and knock, before hearing a sweet sounding voice call out “Come in!” Opening the door I see a beautiful office, a bunch of personal items, books, and a MacBook with stickers on the back on her desk. But the real knockout is the woman in front of me. A powerful looking woman with ginger hair to right above her shoulders, her body tight and built, dressed in a rose/peach pantsuit looking like it had just been steamed and ironed that morning. She’s extremely well put together, while I on the other hand am stuffed into an outfit that probably stopped fitting well a few months ago. I only took a glance at her before she greeted me, and I reminded myself I'm in interview mode. Gotta nail this and land the job.

Int- Interviewer Int- “Hey you’re the 2 o’clock right? Have a seat :)” Me- “Yep that’s me! Hope you’re doing well today :) I have a booklet I brought with me that has all my certifications if you’d like to look through it” Int- “Sounds good! My name is Kirsty, it’s nice to meet you :) What’s your name?” Me- “Ah sorry that was rude of me, my name is Violet :)” Kirsty- “Haha don’t worry about it, this field is full of introverts so I’m used to it” I set it on her desk and sit down, hearing the chair groan ever so slightly my face flushes red. Fuck I hope she didn’t hear that. She glanced through the booklet and asked me a bunch of the typical interview questions, then the technical part of the interview came along and instead of taking the full 45 minutes I was provided I finished the coding problem in about 20.

Me- “Ok, I believe I have it right. I’ve accounted for all exceptions and the code is running smoothly. No hiccups.” Kirsty- “Well that was fast! Let me see”

She takes the laptop and looks at the code for a few minutes while asking some more questions. I keep noticing though that it doesn't really look like she’s looking at the screen. It seems like she's looking just to the side of it, her desk is pretty big so maybe I'm wrong? Not really sure

Kirsty- “This is some concise and.. tight code, some good notation and comments, you meet what we’re looking for and from talking with you I think we can work well together” Me- “Wait really? So I have the job??” Kirsty- “If you want it, it's yours :) We just have some paperwork to do and you can start the monday after next ” Me- “I- I’d love to accept this job, I’m just surprised since I've heard so many horror stories in college about people having to do like 30 interviews to land a job even when they met all the requirements” Kirsty- “Well you aced the technical portion, you have all the certificates required and then some, and you’ve been a pleasure to talk to. You’re not too shabby Violet :)” Me- “Th- Thankyou :) I don’t know what else to say”

After that I read through and signed the paperwork then left Kirsty’s office, she told the receptionist to give me a tour of the office so I can see where everything is. While taking the tour I learned the receptionist’s name is Heather and she led me through the office introduced me to a few people I'll be working with, and showed me where everything is.

Heather- “You know.. I’m a bit surprised, we’ve been trying to fill that position for months. To be honest I had seen your resume this morning and write you off immediately, straight out of college and you landed this. I don’t know what you did there but you obviously did something right.” Me- “Wait really? All I did was get the technical part done quick and show her my certificates” Heather- “Everyone does that, she gives you 45 minutes but it should take only 30 at most” Me- “Oh.. I guess she just must’ve liked my energy then, either way, I got the job so the specific reason doesn’t matter to me.” Heather- “Yeah well… oh well you’re right. You got the job so who am I to question Kirsty. Are there any more questions you have about the office?” Me- “Just one, I heard there was a no limit kitchen here. Like you guys provide meals and stove tops, is there actually no limit to using those amenities?” Heather- “As long as you hit your deadlines you can even watch Netflix at your desk, we only care about results here… We’ll if that’s all you got for me then I’m gonna head back to my desk” Me- “Can't think of anything else, thanks for the tour :) See you in 2 weeks!”

And with that I left the office, I don’t think it had hit me at that point that I got hired. It felt so surreal! But when I got back to my car… I saw my reflection in the driver's side window. my fucking belly was hanging out the bottom of my shirt ever so slightly, bunching around my midsection in a way that made my belly button outline really noticeable. Me- “Are you FUCKING kidding me??? God dammit V. This better have just happened. I swear to god if I just did an interview and an office tour in front of everyone like this I’m going to toaster water myself.”

After getting in my car and driving off I hear my stomach growl. I know I shouldn’t eat after what just happened but at this point I’m starving. I pulled out my phone and opened the Wingstop app, like 6 months into college we were hosting parties and sporting events at our apartment. Wingstop is perfect for that, everyone pitches in and you can get so many wings it's unreal. I racked up so many reward points that it's become a staple in my diet. After looking at the menu I order my usual, just a 10pc with fries, and a drink. “You know, this is a time to celebrate.. I'm gonna have to buy new clothes anyways.. fuck it” And that's when I see it, the deal of a lifetime. $17 for 20 wings, 2 large fries, and 4 sauces. That could last me for a while, I considered swapping it with what's in my cart but.. What if I didn't? Would it really be that bad? I've got 2 weeks anyways.. And besides, it's not like I'm gonna eat it all tonight.

After adding it to my cart and getting the delivery started I headed home. 45 minute wait, I cleared out my fridge last night, I just haven't gotten to the store lately so the rations are low. Still stoked about the job but my hunger is giving me tunnel vision at this point, and that's when I see it. That beautiful orange and white building, it's weird almost tent-like shape off in the distance, Whataburger. As I get closer to it I'm fighting in my head, “Yo Wingstop is gonna take forever, fuck it why not?” while the other side of me is trying to be reasonable since I just ordered like 30 wings and 2 large fries. Needless to say, I ended up pulling in, I've just been eating more recently and It's not as if this will affect me too much at this point. I pull into the drive-through and get a patty melt meal, it's one of their smaller sandwiches but that doesn't mean anything when compared to another fast food chain. It's 2 big patties probably a ¼ pound each with cheese served on Texas toast. I also got my drink and onion rings as well with my order. After going through the drive-through and paying I couldn't help myself and had to eat some onion rings on the way home. Sipping on a massive dr pepper as I do so. Once I got home I hurried up the stairs, still having about 25 minutes until the Wingstop should get here.

As soon as I get inside my apartment I turn on the TV and open Netflix on my phone. After finding a show to watch I screencast it over and get to work on the food. The patty melted steaming hot and so greasy on the first bite that I just knew it'll sit heavy in my belly. I had finished the onion rings in the car and was a little disappointed, but decided to just get the large onion rings next time. The Whataburger is on the way home from the office so I can only imagine I'll become a regular there. It's not an exaggeration to say that one meal from there can feed you for a whole day. For a normal sized person that happens more than you'd think. Within 10 minutes I was already starting to sip my drink dry, I just couldn't stop eating… but I'm still hungry. I just sorta went on autopilot and munched away. Realizing I still had about 15 minutes until the wing stop arrived I got out my rolling tray and rolled up a joint. It's sort of becoming a habit lately but what can I say, it makes the world a bit less gray and also makes food taste soooo much better. I grab my dr pepper and head outside a couple of minutes later after it's rolled.

Walking out onto my dingy little balcony that's actually just a window you fold up and can take only one step onto I look over the city around me. Will I still be here in a year? Will I move into a better place? Will I get some stupidly big promotion and move into a high rise? Or something in between… While I'm out there I look back on what's happened today. I got a job! Like a real adulting job! I'm nervous, anxious, and excited, but ready. It seems like a great environment with great people, I just gotta do what I can to prove I belong there. After going through almost all of the joints I get a notification that the Wingstop is here. I run on over to the door quickly to make sure my neighbors don't take it. Let's just say my apartment complex isn't exactly a place for blue collar workers. Hell, my dealer lives 1 building over and he's got a decent amount of competition here. I take the Wingstop inside and set it on the counter. I knew that I'd have some of it later when the munchies kicked in but for now I was gonna finish that joint. Out on the balcony again I just realize that everything is gonna work out, everything is fine and I finally have the chance to prove myself!

After finishing the joint and closing the window I head on over to the bathroom to clean up a bit and get these clothes off of me. I hadn't thought about it but my clothes were a LOT tighter now than this morning, my figure in the mirror catching my eye and forcing me to pay attention to it. I didn't want to admit it but this was another sign that I needed to just accept it. For whatever reason… I like being fat.. i really like it.. I've tried to understand it for a while now and I've tried going to the gym, anything I could do to be normal. Most people aren't like this. But whatever the reason, I just need to accept it. I start fondling my belly, pinching it, grabbing the bottom roll, and then lifting it and dropping it. It just moves so.. gracefully. So unlike anything else I've seen. I took off my outfit and the speed at which my shirt buttons separated was almost scary. But I'd be lying if I said it didn't make the situation fluster me even more. My belly falls an inch or 2 lower and jiggles back and forth, the recoil drawing me in for a short couple of seconds. Undoing the pants wasn't any better. The moment I undid the button my fupa sprung forward, immediately filling the space where my zipper once was. After stripping down to my underwear I got unbelievably horny, the sight of my body sent me into heat and made me hungry as well. The thought of being even fatter floods my mind and makes me salivate. Instinctively I begin to caress and jiggle my belly, the soft dough-like mass giving way to my hands at the slightest push.

I snap out of it after another 20 seconds and remember the Wingstop, it hadn't been long at all since I chowed down on the Whataburger but at this point, I didn't care. My lust and yearning for hedonism were in full force tonight and I wasn't about to deny myself this feeling.

I hurry over to my desk in the living room and open one of the drawers in my sectional. I've been saving some weed gummies for a rainy day, to be honest, I didn't expect to use them for something like this. I just know that if I eat one or 2 of them then my appetite will be insatiable. I'll just be able to keep going and going. As I pop one of them into my mouth I can't help but be happy that I got an extra Wingstop, this is a day to celebrate and I might as well go hard with it. If I'm gonna do it then I'm gonna do it right. I start digging into the bag and pull out all the boxes of food. Laying it out on the table I see that I have a bit of a challenge ahead of me. 30 wings, 2 large fries, and a bunch of different sauces. I then open up my fridge and refill my dr pepper from Whataburger.

I already know that I'm gonna have a food coma by the end of this. No matter how long it takes, I am going to eat everything in sight. I have already resolved myself to that and there was no way my horny brain was gonna go back on that. After getting a plate and stacking it tall with about half of the food I turn my show back on. Carrying everything over to the couch the weight of all the food is intoxicating. Just knowing that I'm about to put multiple pounds of food into my belly and bloat myself up with what's basically just pure sugar is making me so filled with lust that the moment I sit down I dig in immediately. The speed at which I'm eating would make you think I hadn't eaten in days. As I'm eating I can feel all of the food slipping down my greedy maw, coated in so much sauce that it slides down with ease. If someone saw me like this they would probably be aghast, horrified at the spectacle of pure greed and gluttony before them. But I just kept going, I haven't paid attention to my show for at least a few minutes. I just kept going with reckless abandon, I didn't care about the consequences, I didn't care about how full I was starting to feel, all I cared about was getting the next bite of food down. My stomach becomes redder and redder, eventually, I feel the pain kick in, only a few chicken wings left and about half a large fry… And I still felt determined to eat more, I had already eaten enough for many people but I just couldn't stop thinking about finishing my plate.

After rubbing my belly for a few minutes I get back to work on the plate, I’m eating slow and just sipping on my soda at this point. The pain and pleasure mixed together to send me into a euphoric daze. As I get to the last bite I’m feeling more pain than pleasure, it feels like my skin is stretching and tearing. When I swallowed the last remaining wing slathered in honey mustard I moaned loud and hard. The pressure inside my overfed gut is immense, but I know that I have something left, the soda. About a third of my drink is left and I’m sluggish, while slowly sipping the remaining liquid it feels like my belly is getting more solid. My hand grazes over it and makes me wince in pain when I press down just a little too hard. The images of Roman royalty grazing on food being brought to them by servants cross my mind, the thought of their lives and how great it would be to have someone feeding me overwhelms me. I drain the remaining soda and set the empty cup down, it falls over onto its side as I had just let my arm fall away from me. My whole body feels heavy and tight. It feels like one wrong move could tear me open. But it felt like pure bliss, like nothing in the world really mattered except for this right here.

Over the next couple of hours, I top myself up with wing stop and soda until I notice what time it is. It’s almost midnight and there are only a few wings left, so I open the sauce containers and get to work. The prospect of all the excess calories running through me is winning and I'm not stopping now. I’ve been stuck in this gluttony driven daze ever since I got back to my apartment, whatever came over me has complete control at this point.

“oook.. ughh alright, I gotta hic lay down” Through all my little groaning and moaning I pick up the to-go box and lay down with it. Propping it atop my belly and preparing myself to finish it off. Through slow and labored bites it all ends up going right past my greedy little lips and down my throat. Even my soda was almost empty now, the sugar high mixed with the meat sweats surely about to send me into a food coma. As I got to the last wing I could barely taste it, the pain in my belly was so prominent that I could barely hear the show on my TV. But as the final wing passed down my throat I had an awakening in me. Pure hedonistic bliss erupted from my body, the dopamine centers in my brain working overtime. I was already subtly rubbing my belly trying to relieve some pressure but now I couldn't help but shake it. Each motion up and down gave me instant gratification, it was as if my serotonin was on a faucet and I could just get more whenever I wanted. Every breath made my body feel tighter and tighter as I kept fondling this surprisingly hard softness.

“Oooh.. god damn. if I knew.. overeating could do this to me… ughh,, I'd have done it a long time ago” I'm not sure how much time had passed at that point, but I didn't care. Focusing on anything else just seemed like a waste of time and I wasn't sure how long this pleasure was gonna last. I kept fondling my body for a while and eventually remembered I had just a little bit of dr pepper left. It already felt like my belly was going to rip open at any moment, but about 10 cautious sips later it was all gone… I couldn't believe how much food I ate. Sure I had gone to the bathroom a couple of times since the interview and freed up some space, but still.. A patty melt, onion rings, 30 wings, a fuck ton of fries, and more soda than I wish to remember. It was dark out by this point so this had to have taken almost 6 hours. Taking a glance around the room I spot my rolling tray on the table. There was no way I could roll a joint right now because of how sluggish I am but thankfully I have my pipe. I tried to scoot back a bit to prop myself up more but every movement was making the pressure in my stomach higher and causing me to almost pass out! Deciding against trying to move out of my fresh couch divot I swing my hand over to the table and get ahold of my pipe, extremely proud of my stoner etiquette. If you don't know, if you don't have to hide your weed it's good to leave a fresh bowl of weed after you smoke. Saves you time and you'll still know if someone smoked your shit since it's a fresh bowl.

That's beside the point though, after bringing the pipe to my lips I realize how hard it's gonna be to get a proper hit. My breathing was already very labored and short by now, but I had already gotten this far and it wasn't as if I had any plans that night. Even if I did… they'd be canceled, for one there's no way I could go, and two this feels wayyy too good. The first hit made me cough hard, I could just barely hit the bowl. Take as deep of an exhale as I could muster, I then hit the bowl again. Over the next couple of seconds, I could feel all the food packed into my belly pushing back against my lungs. With a quick exhale and setting the pipe back down I was sure I would cough but I didn't. All I felt was my brain swelling with thc, instinctively I began to massage my belly and began just thinking to myself. groaning “It'd be great to do this more often.. I don't see why not?? The job pays well enough to afford the food! And besides… if it makes me feel this good then it's more of an investment than anything else right? It's not like it'll be a daily thing so I'm not gonna THAT fat right? I'm pretty big already but if I just do some cardio on the days I don't eat like this maybe I can stay this size?”

Not too long after some more caressing of my swollen belly I drifted off to sleep.

#violet stories #intox feedee #weight gain #glorifying obesity #again no promises on when the next is out

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