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#two days into this job and i have not cried on my way home! low bar but previous jobs have not passed it
gideonisms · 4 months
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this job has so far been extremely uneventful which also freaks me out because I'm like. What's the catch when is it going to start attacking me
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pinguwrites · 7 months
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Kinktober 2023 | Day Two — Cillian Murphy + spanking, authority kink
Pairing -> dom!cillian murphy x stepdaughter!reader
Warnings -> kinda dark and sick, stepcest, mentions of masturbation, use of the word daddy (not really sure if it counts as kinky or not, but it's in there), huge age gap (implied Cillian and reader knew each other before reader was fourteen but no relationship), slut shaming, spanking
KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST
Disclaimer: This is not a reflection of Cillian Murphy's actual life. This is completely separate and is not intended to harm him or his family in any way. DNI if you're a Yvonne hater. This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.
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Your stepfather, Cillian, laughed. A dry laugh, his fingers touching his lips for a moment. You were sitting on his bed, hands interlocked, waiting patiently for him to say something. 
You knew you fucked up. When you decided to wear that pink mini-skirt — the type that showed a scrape of your bottom — with a crop top that accentuated the curve of your breasts, you knew you were asking for trouble. 
Your intention hadn’t been to make him upset. Just a little pissed off, enough for him to sweep you away to some corner and work his magic on you, but you had ended up making him angry. Angry enough to call off the entire night and bring you back home.
What was I expecting? He was still your dad. Sure, you had sex, but in some fucked up way or another, he still saw you as that little girl he met all those years ago, the one that needed to be cared for and protected and disciplined.
Cillian sat down on the bed beside you, thinking for a moment. Then, “Get over my knees.”
Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. He hadn’t spanked you since you were fourteen. 
“What?” The thought of him punishing you like that, now that you saw him in a different light, was both humiliating and arousing. 
“Get over my knees,” he repeated, with that soft Irish accent you loved. “You need to learn a lesson.”
Not wanting to make it easy for him, you complained. “It was only a dress! Why—”
Cillian cupped your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him.
“I’m doing this because I love you,” he said earnestly. “It’s either my knees or against the wall.”
The thought of standing while he spanked  you made you shudder. Your knees would probably buckle and you would collapse into his arms, which didn’t sound like a bad idea, but you would rather be laying down while he did it — to avoid the embarrassment. 
You nodded, and laid over his knees, feeling a sense of excitement rush through your body. “What if Mom finds out—” you tried to say, but he didn’t let you finish. He pulled up your skirt and pushed your underwear between your cheeks, giving you a nice, hard slap on your ass.
You yelped. “Mr. Murphy—”
“—Be quiet!”
He slapped you again, this time on the other cheek. You made another sound, the pain stinging like a burn. He wasn’t being gentle. Behind each slap was intent and fury.
“How dare you behave like that in public?” he said, his voice low. “How dare you flirt with other boys like a desperate slut?”
“I was just — oww — I was just tryna get your attention!” 
“Yeah?” He spanked you again, this time much harder. The force of it made your ass jiggle. You forgot how much this hurt.
“And you couldn’t have just asked me politely? You know I would give you anything you want — anything.”
Another spank. 
“M’sorry!”
Cillian shook his head. “That’s not enough. Do you understand how painful it is for me, to see you act like that? When I see you wearing these things in public.” He tugged at your dress. “I mean, what even is this? A bikini? Some type of lingerie?”
“It’s just a skirt,” you whined, noticing a familiar bump on your thigh. He was hard. Your dad was getting hard hitting you. 
Fuck, you thought, feeling a pool of wetness form between your legs. 
Another slap. You cried out.
“It’s my job to watch out for you. Is that not something you want?”
“I do want it,” you said earnestly, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
You knew calling him that did something to him. Everytime you used that word he would always give into your wants or give you extra affection. 
Cillian’s eyes softened. “I know you are.” 
He gave your sore bum a rub, kneading the flesh. “Come on, sit on my lap.”
You did as he asked. It still hurt a little, but you managed.
He gave you a kiss, a gentle one, long and tender. Lips locked, you ran your hand down his body to the bulge in his pants, but he stopped your hand. “I’m not going to please you tonight. And you are not going to touch yourself.”
You groaned, frustrated. You were aching for him, that’s the whole reason you decided to tease him in public in the first place. What was all this spanking for if he wasn’t going to fuck you at the end of the day? “Why not? I said sorry!”
“I told you that’s not enough. Now, go finish your homework.” He lifted you off his lap and placed you on the floor. “If I catch you masturbating,” he added, his voice low, “you’re not getting anything at all this entire week, okay?”
He said this almost condescending tone, which made you infuriated.
“Fine,” you grumbled, leaving the room.
He won’t find out.
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Taglist:
@rainyforest777
@thatwitchybitch420
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sc0tters · 9 months
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My Love, My Life | Jack Hughes
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summary: you find out that you are pregnant and when Jack is less than impressed it caused the start of your pregnancy to be a little bit rocky.
request: yes/no
warnings: partially unwanted pregnancy, allusions to sex, swearing.
word count: 4.07k
authors note: when I rewatched Mama Mia I heard the song my love, my life and I instantly knew it had to be the title of a pregnancy imagine. I really did enjoy writing this though so if you guys want to see this possibly become a series, let me know!
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It was the longest three minutes of your life.
Jack had gone out on the boat with his friends and brothers giving you what felt like the perfect window of opportunity. All you had to do was pee on that stick and wait for the results.
You knew that you’d have to book and appointment with your gynecologist, not because you were pregnant but because your irregular period that decided it didn’t want to show up for three months. Honestly you thought you were simply one of gods favourites, but as your boobs began to grow tender and keeping any food down before ten a.m. became virtually impossible you began to worry.
Ellen had bought you those tests, not because she wanted you to push yourself into having kids but after you shared your worries with her she suggested you took the test and even offered to buy them for you “you okay in there sweetie?” Ellen asked as she was stood on the other side of the door.
The idea of taking this test alone was simply far too daunting for your little heart to handle thus you asked for her company “I’m good,” you opened the door as you waited for your timer to go off.
She was like the extra mother you never had, your own mother was still in your life but she didn’t get you the way Ellen did. You had laughed, you had cried, and you even got drunk on homemade frozen margaritas with Ellen and that was whilst you and Jack were still friends.
Just as the saying goes mothers do truly know best and Jack’s had predicted that you two would end up married and in love one day. She got the in love part right but despite the four years of dating Jack and being with him through all of the highs and lows of his career there still wasn’t a ring on your finger.
That’s not to say that you didn’t mind though because you both agreed you were too young “it’s time,” the timer derailed your thoughts as both of your heads snapped to the line of four tests.
Both of you walked over to the different branded tests that all said the same thing.
Pregnant
Pregnant
Pregnant
Pregnant
You didn’t want to admit it but you knew exactly when you fell pregnant. The final game of the season was against the Capitals and the moment Jack got home he was met with the sight of you in a new red lingerie that you kept hidden by his jersey. That night Jack didn’t have any condoms and you were too horny to care, apparently the morning after pill did not do it’s job.
As Ellen let out a gasp you could do nothing but cry “oh honey!” She didn’t give you a moment to let a full sob out before she pulled you into a hug.
Her hand went into your hair as she attempted to soothe you “I’m not ready to be a mom!” Your eyes went wide at the realisation, you were barely out of college and were now meant to be the mother of a child.
You were grateful that you asked Ellen to be there as she pushed your worries to the side “if you don’t want this you don’t have to keep it.” She reminded you of the different options you had “but if you do then you will not go through it alone.” Her hand went to your cheek to wipe away your tears “I promise,” she kissed your head as you cried on her shoulder.
“We’re home!” Jack called out as they walked back into the house.
Your head shot up as your eyes went wide “go wash your face and I’ll distract them for a bit,” Ellen offered as she squeezed your shoulder quickly letting you get a moment to yourself.
You faced the mirror as you looked at your red cheeks “hi buddy,” you sniffled as you looked down to your stomach “I’m your momma,” you surprisingly didn’t feel weird as you introduced yourself to your baby.
It felt natural as you let your hand cup your stomach as you smiled, that moment showed you that there was love in your heart for this baby, for your baby.
Jack remained oblivious to what had happened as you and Ellen collectively avoided the topic and anything that remotely related to it. Sure he thought that you were a little bit more quiet than usual but he just wrote that down to you being tired after struggling to sleep last night.
The dreaded conversation though eventually had to come as you were back in your bedroom “babe where is your aloe gel?” Jack called out as he was trying to cope with the sun burn that had formed on his back.
You were so caught up washing your face as you let your mind lapse “my drawer of the bedside table.” You explained as your eyes went wide the moment you had said it.
Panic ran through your system as you stopped what you were doing to run back into the bedroom “wh-what is this?” Jack asked as he picked up one of the tests that he was faced with when he opened the drawer.
Yes you thought it was best to hide them in there “answer my question dammit!” He grew frustrated with your silence.
Tears from earlier came back as a lump formed in your throat “we’re having a baby,” you cried as you used the back of your hand to wipe your now snotty nose.
Jack simply didn’t share your emotions “no,” he shook his head as he took a step back “I don’t want it.” He added as it caused you to scoff.
His response frustrated you “this is a baby Jack not a new shirt you don’t like.” You spoke in a duh tone as you crossed your arms.
The hockey player pressed his lips into a fine line “this is not happening,” he announced as he wanted to just go back in time and not have this conversation.
Unfortunately for him there was no other choice that he had “look I get that you’re not happy about this baby-” raked your fingers through your hair “you’re asking me to give up the prime of my career for some kid?” The venom in his voice was a punch to the gut as you chewed at the inside of your cheek.
It made you see him in a whole different light “this isn’t some kid Jack it’s our kid.” Your voice was soft as your lip began to quiver “I’m not asking you to give up your career for them either.” You added as your nose scrunched not believing that you actually had to say that.
You were left in shock as the boy grabbed his phone and charger like he was going to leave “where are you going?” You two had a rule to never go to bed angry and it truly looked like Jack was going to break that “I’m going to spend the night in Luke’s room.” He explained as he walked out of the room before you could say anything else.
When the door slammed shut you finally got the chance to drop to your knees as sobs left your mouth. Somehow in this moment you felt so alone even though you had this baby with you “I’m doing this for you,” you mumbled as you wiped your eyes before you went to your laptop.
Sure it hurt as you found the next flight back to New Jersey but you knew you had to do it.
Jack didn’t want this baby and as you both had different feelings about it you knew this could very well mean the end of your relationship. With your luck it meant there was a flight back to Newark in three hours, so you were quick to pack your suitcase as you knew you had to hurry if you wanted to make that flight. Since everyone was asleep it meant you also had the chance to leave without being noticed “y/n?” Luke asked as he saw you bringing down your suitcase.
The youngest Hughes boy often got midnight snacks as he stayed up into the early hours of the morning “hi Luke,” you sighed sending the boy a soft smile as he took your luggage from you to walk it down the stairs “heard you and Jack,” Luke confessed breaking your heart in the process.
Years ago when you first fought Luke had heard it all and asked you if you’d still be friends with him even if you and Jack broke up “we just need some time apart,” you explained as you began to feel so drained from all of the crying that you had done.
Luke wrapped his arms around you as he didn’t know if he would see you again “for what it’s worth I’d be grateful to be this little one’s uncle.” His voice was soothing as it made you smile “how are you so young?” You asked yourself as he was so sweet and caring.
“Just making sure you stay safe.”
The next morning Jack and Ellen each woke up to a message from you.
y/n: hey mama Hughes! Sorry for the abrupt goodbye but Jack didn’t take the news too well so I came home. Will keep you updated on this little baby!
doll 🩷: I’m not going to force this baby on you but I’ve made my mind up and I want to have it, I’d like you to be there but if not. I won’t blame you x
Ellen didn’t usually think she was a negative person. Truly she thought she was a good gentle soul, yet the thoughts she had as she sent her middle son daggers in the form of glared made her reconsider her opinion of herself. Sure this wasn’t the most ideal time for them to bring a baby into the world but the love the couple had for each other was so obvious that it was almost painful. When you two were wrapped in each others arms whispering sweet nothings into each others ears was enough to make anyone sick in the best way possible “good morning Luke,” Jim greeted his son who seemed to be sharing the same reaction to his older brother as his mom had.
Despite the one cup of coffee that barely had time to settle in his system Quinn could tell that something was off “what stupid thing did he do now?” The Canucks player asked as he furrowed his eyebrows sending his youngest brother a confused glance.
Jacks ears perked up as he looked up from his phone “I didn’t do anything stupid,” he scoffed as he crossed his arms growing defensive.
Both Ellen and Luke wanted to hit him as he said that “you sure about that?” The blonde hadn’t used her strict tone on her boys in years and it truly instilled fear in her three sons.
At that moment everything clicked for Jack “Kyoto!” He called out as he got up. The Hughes brothers had given that title to moment when they needed their brothers to drop everything because one of them had something to say “really?” Luke groaned as Quinn followed the younger boy out “you know the rules.” The trio of boys soon left their parents as they walked outside to have their conversation.
Jim sipped his coffee as curiosity got the best of him “what do you think they are talking about?” He asked as he turned his attention to his wife “got a few ideas,” Ellen shrugged wanting to text you as she hoped you got home safe.
Quinn sat at the outside table as he wanted to desperately know what was going on with his brother “can someone please fill me in?” He asked as he looked between his two younger siblings.
When Jack remained silent Luke took it upon himself to reveal what happened “y/n left last night because Jack learnt that she’s pregnant-” Luke couldn’t blurt out all that he wanted to as Jack reached out to hit him “dude!”
The air around the three boys was still thick “always thought you’d have kids first.” Quinn confessed as he knew how serious you and Jack were early on in your relationship.
You wished that Jack was sat next to you in that doctors office as you realised that the OB had a space open in the morning. Funnily enough he would have preferred being sat there right now over being sat with his brothers “you want to tell him what you told her though?” Luke spat as he sent Jack a harsh glare.
The Devils player grew defensive “you eavesdropping or some shit?” Jack scoffed as he matched his brothers strong look.
Just like always Quinn had to intervene “let’s just breathe and then talk like adults.” He proposed as he pulled Luke’s chair closer to him so that it was out of Jacks grasp.
Luke sighed as he nodded “why did you say that to her?” He didn’t even mention the reasoning that Jack used to make sure his brother knew what was going on.
Jack picked at his nails as he didn’t want to look at anyone “didn’t want to screw up at being a dad.” The forward also didn’t want to disappoint his child in life but more importantly he didn’t want to be a shitty partner to you. Every road trip the team took, every late night training session or game all added up and Jack could see how it screwed with some of the older guys who had kids.
“Bullshit,”
The trio of boys whipped their heads around to see that Ellen and Jim were stood at the porch door. Ellen actually stomped over to her middle child “every parent screws up,” she pointed out as she couldn’t count how many times either her or Jim had done the wrong thing when it came to parenting those boys “but you deal with it with your partner!” The girl scoffed as she couldn’t actually believe that Jack could act in such a negative way that it drove you to leave in the middle of the night without a peep.
Jack was honestly shitting himself as his mom stood over him “now you’ve got a girlfriend with a heart of gold currently sat terrified in New Jersey as she’s all alone?” Ellen scoffed not realising that the forward furrowed his eyebrows “truly thought I raised you better than that.” Her anger had turned into disappointment as she couldn’t imagine the stress that you could have been going through, especially after that had happened in terms of the stressful build up to taking that test.
When he eventually spoke up it was quite “she’s terrified?” He asked as his chest began to grow heavy because this was the first time since he had heard the news that the thought of you and now you felt about it all.
Sure it was selfish but Jack found himself so caught up in his own stream of doubts that he hadn’t let the two other parties involved in the matter take up any space in his mind “she’s just found out that she’s pregnant and her boyfriend isn’t with her.” Ellen’s voice was comforting as Jack felt tears well in his eyes.
He didn’t often feel this extreme emotions but the thought of you, the woman he centred his entire world around, feeling all of that pain due to his actions made him feel sick “how do I fix it?” Given that Jack was of college boy age, romance wasn’t something he ever truly mastered and besides it wasn’t like he needed to when you looked at him like he was the only guy in the world.
The blonde felt her heart soar as her speech obviously knocked some sense into him “go talk to her.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
The Hughes family watch on as the middle child got up and made his way back inside so he could go back home, back to you.
From the moment you got back inside you couldn’t help but listen to the video of the heart beat as you stared at the pictures from the ultrasound. Despite the fact that, the house felt foreign as Nico let you stay at his whilst he was still on holiday after you called him in tears you were now feeling content. The Swiss man first took you under his wing when he realised that you were Jacks girlfriend because you so clearly needed “a bit of mental relief.”
Your hand clutched at your stomach “you are going to be my little darling when I finally get to meet you.” You confessed as you didn’t bother introducing yourself for the second time “don’t be fooled by the smell of this place we don’t live here.” You laughed to yourself “but I should really ask uncle Nico where he gets his candles from.”
Jack had to admit that he was surprised when he came back to your apartment and none of the lights were on. At first he blamed it on your poor sleeping schedule and maybe you were just taking a nap. But when the apartment began to not look lived in, plates hadn’t moved from the clean dishwasher, the pillows on the couch were still perfectly fluffed the alarm bells began to ring as Jack realised that something was well and truly off.
My Love x: where the fuck are you
My Love x: this isn’t a joke
My Love x: I’m back in Jersey
My Love x: just let me know that you’re safe please
A sigh of relief left your lips as you hoped that it meant things would be better with Jack. That he’d change his mind but you had to make sure it was what he really did want.
doll 🩷: I’m safe but I don’t want to see you for the next week.
doll 🩷: you need to make sure that what you decide is right for you
doll 🩷: but until then thought you would wanna see this.
*one video attached*
It was the video of the babies heart beat. Jack let out a laugh at the end when your voice came into it “they’re my strong little buddy,” you gasped deciding that buddy was the perfect nickname for your precious little baby.
Jack hadn’t noticed that he was crying until the tear drops began to hit his phone. At first he was crying because he realised how much he must have hurt you but then it morphed into him crying because he was scared. The idea of bringing a child into this world made him feel nervous, not the soft nerves you get thinking about the Stanley cup. These were the nerves you get when you think about facing your fears. Jack knew you’d be the best mom a child could ask for, he saw the way his teammates kids eyes lit up whenever they saw you and how the grin would spread across your lips when they wanted your attention. After this one game you came down with a baby on your hip and you were so caught up telling the child this whole story that you didn’t notice Jack staring at you. In that moment Jack honestly wanted to go home and get a few babies inside of you. His self restraint was truly tested that day when you smiled and walked over to him with the baby still in your hand “this little ones momma had to go to the bathroom.” You explained as you thought he was looking at you weirdly because you were just holding a child.
That memory replayed in Jacks mind as his thumb danced over a picture frame. The image it held was one of the two of you on the boat at the lake house as you had fallen asleep and Jack was so caught up playing with your hair that he didn’t notice when Quinn captured the picture.
This next week was awful for both of you. Neither one really got much sleep as you both just lay on your beds thinking about what the other was doing. You had moved out of Nicos place and in with a friend just so that it meant you would have company when the nights grew dark.
One thing you seemed to be craving the entire week was a red velvet cupcake. There was one place in New Jersey that made a cupcake above them all so on the sixth day of this week that was meant to be radio silence between you and Jack, you finally caved and went to get the sweet treat.
What you didn’t expect though was that Jack would he walking out with an order of his own. He had gone to eat his feelings as he loved their chocolate cake “hi,” Jack gasped as he got the words out.
You smiled as you looked at him “hi baby,” you didn’t even have to wait for a second before Jack pulled you into a hug “I’m so sorry doll,” he blurted out causing tears to form in your eyes for what felt like the a millionth time this week.
It broke your heart when you looking up to see he was crying too “didn’t mean to hurt you like that.” He added as he brought his hand up to cup your cheek.
The gesture was soft as he wipe the tear away from under your eye “you wanna come with me to grab my stuff?” You asked as your hand went on top of his “I know I said I’d give you a week but I can’t sleep in a room without you for another-” your ramble was cut off when Jacks lips captured yours in a kiss.
There was no denying how much you had missed him, and the pregnancy brain was causing you to miss more than just his company “wanna take you home,” Jack mumbled as he rested his forehead against yours.
A giggle left your lips “what are you waiting for then?” You playfully asked as you sent him a smile.
You had told yourself that you could have handled this alone, but deep down you knew you were going home with the man of your dreams who you needed alongside you in this team.
Six months later.
Jack watched in awe as you slept “you got your mama’s eyes my love.” Your daughter cooed as she looked up at her father totally unaware of what he was saying to her.
Since you shut your eyes fifteen minutes ago Jack had just been bouncing her in his arms as he moved around the room “just be grateful you don’t have her toes cause those aren’t as pretty as the rest of her.” He smiled as a random baby noise erupted from her little body.
You scoffed as you had slowly been waking up for the last minute and a half “there is nothing wrong with my feet.” You mumbled as you turned to face them.
The hockey player laughed “you sure about that?” He shot back but quickly went quiet as you sent him a glare.
Your daughter looked at you like you were a foreign sight when Jack sat next to you on the bed “she’s gonna be a daddy’s girl.” You mumbled as you could see the way she already had Jack wrapped around her finger.
He blushed at the comment “as long as my first girl doesn’t get neglected.” The boy pointed out as he hooked his fingers under your jaw so he could peck your lips “I didn’t go through seven hours of labour just to get a peck Hughes.” You always called him Hughes when he was in trouble.
But this time it just made him laugh “can’t use that one for much longer,” he pointed out as he motioned to the engagement ring on your finger.
“I’ll use it until she’s ready to get married.” You shot back as he let you kiss him this time on a deeper level before his thought pulled him away.
“Married… she’s never getting married!”
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dmercer91 · 8 months
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ik you just put out be alright with luca- and this idea is kinda similar
but a hughes sister who’s going to be a freshman this year, and she’s feeling lost because all her brothers are scattered. like luke had her at home, but she doesn’t have anybody
my brother wouldn’t admit it until the grave but if i left he’d be sad
i feel like jack, luke and quinn probably kept how much they missed each other pent up and figured reader would do the same and were not expecting how hard it hit her
cause she’s even more alone than they were, and it’s not like it’s her job like it was for j,
home, 4386
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“hey, y/n/n! how was your first week? know it’s been busy for me but i miss-“
“lukey,” you sobbed into the phone, hyperventilating and hardly being able to see anything
luke’s eyebrows furrowed on the other side of the phone, stomach dropping with worry.
“y/n? where’s mark, or dyl. anyone home?” you’d grown particularly attached to mark during his and luke’s freshman year, so during the summer it was decided that you’d get mackies old room in the house so that he could watch over you
quinn had lectured him, jack followed his behaviour all summer, corrected things he didn’t like, and luke dug into him for two straight years about how he’d entrusted him with you whenever one of he or one of his brothers weren’t around
“i don’t understand how you all did it,” you blurted, ignoring his question and taking a deep breath, jaw hurting from how hard you’d been clenching it
“are you at home, are you safe?” it was jack, sounding alarmed
“yeah, rowdy,” you whispered, being able to have both of them bringing you a little comfort. you tried to take a few more deep breaths, but it was like your throat was closing
“where are the guys?” luke cut in, restating his earlier question
“i took- i took a bus, to the lake house. i’m sorry, i-. m’ sorry, i needed home, but it’s not.. not home, you’re home,” jack and luke shared a look, concerned for their youngest sister
“miss you so much. how did you- how?? i feel like i’m a chore to the guys, i don’t have anyone, i need you,” they could hardly understand you, your low tone and cries muffling your words nearly beyond comprehension
the boys couldn’t truly answer the question. jack had never been at school. his rookie year was tough, but he wasn’t balancing class, and you and luke were always visiting
on top of that, he’d been anticipating it since he was young
luke had you. you were in michigan with him for the majority of the time, at a nearby high school.
you had hockey, on top of class, and none of them were nearby. visits would probably be limited, cause the all star break was hardly a break for them.
it wasn’t like last season, when you could fly up with luke every once in a while to spend the night and soak up time with jack.
quinn had been calling you every day, notably your most protective brother. you didn’t want to make him feel like his efforts were for nothing, so you didn’t tell him how you were feeling.
“i can barely skate, i’m not producing, i got a d on an assignment from history of mich sports. i’m falling apart without you,” you rushed out, sniffling harshly to try and clear your airways
“i’m so lost,” you finished, your head thudding against the wall you’d been leaning on.
“it’s gonna be okay, y/n/n. i’m gonna call mark, yeah? he’s like a fourth older brother, he’s got you. he’ll come pick you up and j and i are gonna call you every night. quinny can join too, we’ll facetime. he’ll see you next week when he’s in detroit, and the devs will be over there in no time, i promise,” luke soothed, jack silently agreeing
“ok?” you wiped your face, breathing still uneven
“ok,” you whispered,
“i love you, y/n/n.”
“i love you too, moose. n’ i love you, j,”
“love you, mini, get some rest on the way home for me, and call mamma, alright?” you smiled at the nickname, one he’d given you when you guys grew into your playing styles and he deemed you a copycat
you mumbled a promise into the phone and let them hang up, hugging your knees to your chest.
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The Flayed
pairing: steve harrington x female byers!reader
WC: 4.3K
warnings: cursing, panic attacks from byers/going off on everyone, blood/fighting. i think we good!
summary: the pits of hell.
A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG - The Byers Harrington Story-
yall, steve and byers relationship is going through it, im sorry. also feel like my writing is inconsistent for these next few chapters (idk just me?)
@alecmores​ my lovely friend🌟
series masterlist / steve harrington
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You were sure your voice was gonna give out with the volume of your screams. The room that was now confirmed to be an elevator was moving at such a fast speed that you worried you’d hit the ceiling when it reached the bottom.
“Steve!” Calling for your boyfriend with tears flooding your eyes.
This is why you didn’t want to do this. Why you shouldn’t have gotten involved and just called the government. Now you have two children with you in a dangerous environment not knowing what was on the other side. Stupid fucking Russians had to ruin your night cause of their stupid system. 
“Shit! Shit!” “We’re going down! We’re going down!” Steve and Dustin shouted over the noise. And you're pretty sure you’re just sobbing through the screams at this point. Robin shouted to Steve, “Yeah, no shit, Harrington!”
Dustin was smashing his hands into the buttons, but nothing was helping. “Why don’t these buttons work?!” Erica ran to his side, the two of them pressing the same buttons and yelling at each other.
Your fingers were curled tight around a metal table as you hyperventilate. Everything and everyone was just making your panic worse and you feared passing out. The elevator hit the ground hard and everyone lost their foot, falling to the floor with boxes following. Your head hit the bottom of the table and you winced in pain.
You could hear Steve groan, “Oh! My groin. It fell on my groin.” Then he called for Dustin to move a box.
You heard shuffling and Robin asking if everyone was okay, but you could only hear your loud breathing and feel the fast beating of your heart. Palms hit the metal floor as you panted and silently cried, messy hair hiding your face in a curtain.
“(Y/n)? Hey, baby…” The voices sounded as if they were underwater. Garbled and unclear, barely able to understand it’s Steve just from the pet name. A hand falls to your back, trying to use repetitive motions as a way to calm you down.
“Baby, it’s Steve. Dustin, Erica, and Robin are with us. Everyone is okay. We’re safe.” He spoke low and close to your ear.
“We don’t know if-“ “Shut it, Henderson!”
Your hearing got clearer and your breathing slowly evened out, body slightly shook as you managed to push yourself off the floor and shrug Steve’s hands away. Fingernails curled into your palm as you glared at Steve. His eyes were droopy and sad, arms limp at his side, but you needed to get this out.
“We are not safe, Steve. Not even close. We are in a Russian elevator that no one besides us knows about, so they wouldn’t know where to look. We have two underage children in our care to keep safe, which, they or we shouldn’t even be here in the first place! I have said, we should just take this to the authorities! That’s their job! We work in a fucking ice cream shop making five bucks an hour! But you and Dustin, along with Robin, wanted to be nosy American heroes, and Erica just took this as a reason to get free ice cream.” Arms flailing and voice cracking. “I should be home watching Jeopardy on the couch with you or Will. I haven’t heard from Jonathan or my mom all day, who knows if Will's home alone when he shouldn’t be since the last time that happened, he got sucked into the fucking Upside Down!”
You pound your fist into the walls, hurling more words under your breath. You ignored the sting to your wrist as you kept banging and banging, eyes blurry and voice straining. You only stopped when arms wrapped you from behind, they pinned your biceps down and dragged you away from the wall. You struggled against their hold until you gave up, not fighting just letting your emotions get the better of you. 
“I can’t- I can’t do this again. I just can’t.” Legs turn to jelly as you let gravity drag you back to the floor. You just wanted to curl into a ball and sleep into a coma.
Steve, you knew it was him holding you, he fell with you. Your back was pulled to his chest as he shushed you, trying to calm you like a baby. His hand pushed your head towards his neck and you shifted so you leaned on your side, starchy uniform wrinkling in your grip. “I can’t keep… doing this.”
Steve took a deep breath, “I know, baby. I know. We just gotta stick together and we’ll be safe.” He pressed his face into your hair, his eyes closing as he hugged you tighter. He never wants to see you break like this, and he’ll do everything to keep you from cracking further.
“Uh… just so you nerds are aware, I’m supposed to be spending the night at Tina’s. And Tina always covers for me. But if I’m not home for Uncle Jack’s party tomorrow and my mom finds out you four are responsible, she’s gonna hunt you down, one by one, and slit your throat.”
“I don’t care about Tina!” Steve yelled as he moved his hands over your ears. With his mouth close they barely muffled his screaming at Erica. “Or Uncle Jack’s party! Your moms not gonna be able to find us if we’re dead in a Russian elevator!”
Your ears were uncovered and took in the silence that followed so much yelling. Dustin and Robin are the only two just watching and standing back. Steve kept your head pushed to his neck, his chin digging into your scalp as his palm rubbed your bicep up and down. 
“Hey,” You turned to Dustin. His voice was low and even as he addressed the room. “Why don’t we just climb our way out?” Pointed upward to a square cut into the ceiling.
Steve pulled the both of you off the floor and kissed your salty cheeks. He squatted so Dustin could climb onto his shoulder and push the hatch open. With help from Steve, Dustin was pushed up and then Steve used a table for leverage.
You, Robin, and Erica just looked up and waited for anything. Your arms wrapped around your stomach, pretending it was Steve grounding you.
“Steve!” Robin yelled, “What’s it look like? Can we climb?”
There was thumping and then Dustin’s head popped in with a strained smile. “Uh…”
“Uh, what? Can we climb?” Erica demanded.
“No. We can’t climb, we’re too far down.” Dustin groaned.
You dropped your head. “Son of a bitch,” mumbled under your breath. Steve climbed back in and sighed as he leaned against the wall.
-
“Code red. I repeat, code red. Does anyone copy?”
You could hear Dustin’s voice bouncing off the thick walls from above. He asked for his walkie and said he was gonna try to get some help. He’s been repeating code red for about five minutes now.
“We are innocent children and we are trapped under Starcourt Mall. The Red Army has infiltrated Hawkins, and if we are found they will torture and kill us.” That was a new one. And if anyone heard that, they would probably think it was a dumb prank.
Steve climbed atop a table and poked his head through the hole. “Hey!” He called to Dustin, “Gotta take it easy on that thing. Gonna drain the battery.”
Dustin’s voice was muffled and you could only hear Steve’s reply, “What do you think, Petey the mall cop is gonna rappel down here and save the day?” He shimmied up back to the roof.
You, having nothing to do and wanting to distract yourself, you started stacking and organizing the boxes. Lend a helping hand to the Russians, cause why not? Robin tried pushing different buttons to get the door open or the elevator working again hopefully. And Erica was off to the side sitting down, messing with the container Robin stuffed in her bag.
Then there was a sound and a smell, your nose wrinkling. You heard Robin scuff followed by, “Can you redirect your stream, please?” You looked at the wall and you groaned.
Loud banging filled the silence and you promptly spun to see Erica hitting the green liquid against metal tubs. You rushed to her side and yanked the unknown substance from her tiny hands. “Hey, hey! Be careful, careful, careful! We don’t even know what this is.”
She rolled her eyes, “Exactly. It could be useful.” Robin walked over, “Useful how?”
Erica started a little rant. “We could survive down here a long time without food, but if the human body doesn’t get water it will die.”
“I know that, little miss know-it-all. But I hate to break it to you, but this is not water. Not even close.” Your attitude is starting to match Erica’s.
She shrugged, “No, but it’s a liquid. And if it comes down to me drinking that shit or dying of thirst, I drink.”
You heard Robin scuff and then a distant noise. An electronic whirring. Robin walked to the door and Erica yanked the liquid back when you were distracted. The both of you watched as Robin set her ear to the door and then pushed away to the tables. She climbed up and motioned with her hands to follow.
“We’ve got company.”
Robin went up first and then you made Erica go next, helping her small frame reach the hatch for someone to grab her. You can hear the noise getting closer. You stood on your tiptoes to get as close to the top, fingers stretched to the point of cracking. You weren’t good at pull-ups so you know this is gonna be a difficult task. Luckily, Steve came forward and grabbed your arms tight, and helped pull you upward. You fell into his arms as Dustin closed the lid, and now was the waiting game.
The elevator thudded then stopped meaning it was opened and then you heard two Russian men speaking, their feet shuffling back and forth a few times. Steve looked down into the opening allowing light, you should see the shadows moving. Everyone was tense, keeping as still as possible to not give away the position. Steve held a finger to his lips then he tilted his head slightly in the direction of Erica, who was holding her container of liquid goo.
Steve curled his fingers in a ‘give me’ motion and she slowly handed it off. The two men walked out of the room and now you just waited until they drove away. That whirring noise grew distant and it was followed by the heavy door falling.
Steve yanked the hatch open and climbed down, the door getting closer to sealing back up. He slid on the ground and with the bottom vertical he jammed it open. “Let’s go,” you usher Erica down first. Her backpack was thrown to Steve and pushed through the door.
She crawled on the floor with Steve’s “Go, go, go,” And her “I’m going.” in response.
Dustin dropped second. “Henderson. Go, go.” Steve gave him a push. You urged Robin next, her legs in the air before you pushed them down. You didn’t bother to argue with Steve about who was next since he would insist on you. You shuffled under with Dustin and Robin yanking you out of the way so Steve could hurry as the glass was breaking.
You grabbed his uniform and tugged at him, Robin helping with her grunts of, “Come on, Steve, let’s go!” He rolled his body into yours and both of you watched as the glass gave out and the green goo sizzled the floor and door.
You sighed as you hugged Steve tight and he did as well. You heard Robin ask, “Still wanna drink that?” And you knew it was at Erica. Despite the moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from planting kisses on the side of Steve’s face, your body went through slight shudders of panic. “You’re okay, you’re okay.” Whispered into his hot skin.
He pushed himself off your body and held his hands out to help you from the floor. His eyes zigzagged everywhere, “Not hurt or anything?” You confirmed your intact state and he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.
“Holy mother of God.” Dustin’s voice broke the silence. You and Steve broke apart and everyone turned to see what stunned Dustin Henderson. A giant tunnel is what. “Well…hope you guys are in good shape.” He took your hand and pulled you with him as he tapped Dustin on the chest, “Looking at you, roast beef.”
-
You weren’t sure how long you’d been walking. Could’ve been fifteen minutes or a full hour already. It just went on and on forever, the fluorescent lighting hurting your eyes and causing your headache to worsen. Steve kept your hands intertwined, something bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving reassuring kisses on our cracked skin.
“I mean, you have to admit, as a feat of engineering alone, this is impressive.” Dustin with his wandering gaze and scientific mind. Steve countered Dustin’s remark, “What are you talking about? It’s a total fire hazard. There are no stairs, there’s no exit, there’s just an elevator that drops you halfway to hell.” 
And you agreed with him in your head, ears tingling at the deep sound of Steve’s voice bouncing off the walls and almost wrapping you in a warm blanket. Messily as you walked you landed a kiss on his clothed shoulder, just wishing to take a moment and hug him like a bear.
Erica’s high-pitched voice spoke, “They’re Commies. You don’t pay people, they cut corners.” You genuinely wonder if she’s learning this from school or something she does as a hobby.
“To be fair to our Russian comrades, I don’t think this tunnel was designed for walking,” Robin mentioned. “Think about it, they developed the perfect system for transporting cargo.” And she was right about that.
“It all comes into the mall like any old delivery.” “And then they load it up onto those trucks and nobody’s the wiser.” Dustin and Robin finished each other’s sentences.
“Wait… so you think they built this whole mall so they could transport that green poison?” You leaned forward a bit to see everyone’s thinking faces. Dustin twisted his mouth, “I seriously doubt it’s something as boring as poison. It’s gotta be much more valuable, like promethium or something.”
“What the hell is Promethium?” Steve blurted.
“It’s what Victor Stone’s dad used to make Cyborg’s bionic and cybernetic components.” Robin casually mentioned. You couldn’t help the gasp that followed, “You read comics? Robin, why am I just now hearing about this?” She just shrugged, but you saw her hidden smile.
“You’re all so nerdy, it makes me physically ill.” Erica had to ruin the moment.
Steve was quick to come to his defense, “No, no, no. No, don’t lump me in with them. I’m not a nerd, all right?” The simple comment made you slip your hand from his out of pettiness. Steve whipped his head towards you and tried to grab it back, but you just crossed your arms and kept walking.
You heard light chuckles from the others. “Why so sensitive, Harrington? Afraid of losing cool points to a ten-year-old child?” Robin’s snarky comment was followed by Dustin’s, “With you dating (Y/n), you’re a nerd by association. She’s got a good knowledge of comics and Star Wars.”
“I know that. I’m just saying I don’t know jack shit about Prometheus.” You dropped your arms and you felt Steve’s hitting yours twice before you took the innovation of holding hands again. “Promethium.” Dustin fixed Steve’s miss pronunciation. “Prometheus is a Greek mythological figure, but whatever. All I’m saying is, it’s probably being used to make something.”
“Or power something.” You quickly throw it out there. “Like a nuclear weapon?” Dustin asked. You shrugged even if he couldn’t see, “Totally, they are Russia and they usually are up to something sketchy.”
“Walking towards a nuclear weapon. That’s great. That’d be great.” Steve used his sarcasm as his defense. He squeezed your hand three times.
“But if they’re building something, why here?” Robin pointed out, “I mean, Hawkins. Seriously. Of all places. At the very best, we’re a toilet stop on your way to Disneyland, but maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s our very…” She trailed off as she and Erica continued forward. At the same time, Steve pulled the both of you to a stop with Dustin.
“You think the Russians know?” Steve turned to Dustin. “About-” Dustin didn’t need to finish, the three of you knew what he was gonna say. “They could,” Steve pointed out. “So it’s connected?” You asked while huddling closer to the boys.
Dustin shook his head, “Maybe.” “How?” You were confused about how a government on the other side of the world could know about your shit town and its supernatural connection.
“I don’t know, but it’s…” “Possible.” The three of you whispered. Your headache was worsening by the second.
“I’m sorry,” You looked up and saw Robin and Erica further up the tunnel and turned around, “Is there something you’d like to share with the class? (Y/n)?” You could only open and close your mouth, nothing coming out.
The sound of static hissing followed by a man’s voice speaking what sounds to be Russian drew everyone’s attention. Erica dropped her backpack and pulled the walkie out as you all huddled on the ground. Robin pulled the antenna out and listened to the voice. She then translated what was being relaid.
“A trip to China sounds nice. If you tread lightly. It’s the code.”
Dustin pointed at the walkie in her hands, “Wherever that broadcast is coming from-” “It’s close. And if there’s one thing we know about that signal…”
“It can reach the surface.” You finished with an air of hopefulness. Robin looked up with a smile then to your group, “Let’s go,” and you continued your walking.
-
You walked for what you assumed to be about thirty minutes before voices and loud noises got closer. Steve pulled your group into a corner behind a giant metal container and waited for the coast to be clear of any workers passing by. He peeked his head out and when he assessed the scene he moved forward and pulled you with him, “Clear, come on, Let’s go.” And everyone stuck close together.
“Okay, that was close.” “Too close.”
“Relax,” Steve stopped Robin and Dustin’s complaining, “Relax, no one saw…” His steps came to a halt and your jaw was metaphorically on the ground.
The room in front of you was filled with workers. Scientists, guards, drivers, and some people you can’t identify are dressed in red full-body suits. A female voice was speaking Russian on the intercom and you forgot you were in the open until you were almost spotted by an armed guard.
“Shit!” You yanked Steve with you to hide behind a red box, everyone tucked behind. “Jesus!” Steve muttered.
“Red Dawn.” Dustin referring to a movie that came out last year.
“I saw it.” And you just thought Erica meant the movie until she followed up with, "First floor, northwest.”
“Saw what?” Steve asked. “The comms room.” She sounded exasperated.
Steve scrunched his brows, “You saw the comms room? From here?” She nodded.
“Are you sure?” You couldn’t help questioning. You wouldn’t be able to tell which room was which. “Positive. The door was open for a second, and I saw a bunch of lights and machines and shit in there.”
“That could be a hundred different things,” Dustin argued. You looked in the direction Erica said and squinted your eyes to see anything, you only saw a closed door and faint movement through the slender window.
“I’ll take those odds.” Robin firmly stated. You couldn’t help the sigh as you closed your eyes. This was crazy, this was crazy, this was crazy. “This is crazy.” A slip of your tongue.
“Well, would you rather be stuck out here or trying to get help?” Erica sassed. And you knew she was right, you still didn’t like the slim odds against the five of you.
“All right.” Steve whispered as he laid out the plan, “We’re going to move fast, we’re going to stay low. Okay?”
Steve went first then you followed, copying his actions and following his rules. One by one, like ducks in a row. You moved then stopped, and waited for people to pass before moving again to the nearest hiding spot. Just one more stop before the door you held your breath, not wanting to make a single sound before reaching safety. Eyes on the door and watching as a man in a lab coat leaves the room, door wide open and swinging closed.
“Let’s go.” Steve moved forward and caught the door just before it closed. He ushered everyone in before him. His back was to the room so it took him a second longer to realize that it wasn’t empty, a Russian guard was at the controls.
You pulled the kids behind you, arms out to the sides to block them. The guard just stared at everyone then moved his right hand towards his hip, his gun. You stiffened with your eyes widening. Robin moved forward and started shouting in Russian.
“Tread lightly! Tread lightly!” The man was confused, replying, but you didn’t understand him and Robin wasn’t planning on translating. “Silver cat… Silver cat.” She waved a hand behind her.
Everyone was tense. Eyes move everywhere from person to person or looking for something within the room as a weapon. You didn’t try to look at Steve, worried that might cause a bad reaction.
The guard shook his head, speaking more words that went in one ear and out the other. Robin turned to you with a worried look then back. She took another step closer, “China?” The man just scoffs and grabs his gun.
Steve’s yells fill the small room. He charges forward and shoves the man into the control counsel. With numb fingers, you tug Robin at the back of her shirt and closer to you. Your eyes watch as the man throws Steve off him and into a table and he groans from the impact. He throws a swing and Steve leaned back and avoids getting punched in the cheek, but he’s grabbed by his shirt and thrown into another table face first.
“Steve!” Your voice coming back to you. The guard grips the back of the Scoop's shirt, but Steve elbows him in the stomach. The guard stumbles away, allowing Steve to grab the walkie from the main counsel and throw it hand to hand before smacking the Russian in the face. He hits a table and then lands on the floor with a loud thud. 
You stare at the unconscious man before your eyes travel to Steve, who’s panting and running a hand through the front of his hair. Body moving on auto-pilot, your feet carry you towards Steve. Hands are shaky as they hold his biceps while you look over his face, warm brown eyes dart back and forth. You feel rather than see, Steve’s fingers curling into your belt loops and tugging you closer.
“Dude!” Dustin’s loud voice caused Steve to look his way, “You did it! You won a fight!” Steve looked to the floor and you saw the faint smile pulling his lips, “Jeez…”
“Please don’t do that again,” You couldn’t help the whisper. Steve’s brows furrowed at your words, “Well if I didn’t…” You stopped him with your hands on his cheeks, “No, I- I know. I just… I don’t want you getting hurt.” Thumb swiping over the apple of his cheek. His eyes and body melted just a touch, but now wasn’t the time to let his guard down. He only kissed your forehead and a reassuring smile before focusing back on the task at hand.
“You want to walk all the way back?” Erica’s loud shout made you step away from Steve reluctantly.
She and Dustin held a stand-off. “Well, we can hang out for a little bit, relax, have a picnic maybe.” And you can hear where Steve’s developing more of his sarcasm. Erica countered, “Have a picnic? We came here for a radio.”
“This plan is way better. If I knew Steve could knock out a Russian, that would’ve been our plan in the first place.”
“Steve is not fighting anymore Russians.” You stopped Dustin from potentially putting Steve in any harm. He just rolled his eyes and Erica scoffed, you were getting so tired of these kids and their growing attitude.
“Look I’m just saying-” “Guys.”
Robin’s voice stopped whatever Dustin was gonna say. She stood in a doorway that led to some stairs going up. “There’s something up there.” Pointing a finger over her shoulder.
You were the last one up the stairs and through the door. Steve closed it slowly and quietly behind you and when you turned to the room, you felt your blood run cold.
Slow, timid steps guided you to the glass openings in the wall. You leaned in, nose almost tapping the window as your glued eyes took in the sight before you. Steve stood behind you, his back pressed close and his face over your shoulder, while Dustin was on your left.
“Holy shit.” And holy shit was right.
A room of white button-ups and lab coats, people moving about or messing with buttons and dials. A glowing white light caused your eyes to squint, its noises were faint, but the walls rumbled with power. Whatever these Russians were doing, they were powering up a giant device that was pointed at the wall. It was causing a riff to open slowly, red and orange, and without having seen it before you know where this leads.
“The Upside Down,” was all you could whisper.
-
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kedsandtubesocks · 1 year
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This Tornado Loves You
A Cowboy Din Djarin One-shot
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a/n: I had a really long tiring wild day today so I thought why not write about this wild cowboy lmaooo the title is from the neko case song and this is for my favorite cowpoke @skeletoncowboys thank you for being a true gem Warnings: death mention, extreme yearning, 18+ just to be safe
“I have to leave for the week l…is it alright if I leave the kid with you?”
Din’s request is quiet as the morning sun beats down on you two.
You know he tries to take jobs that don’t require him leaving the kid anywhere for long. But, the jobs are getting sparse and the cowboy that has been opening up to you is slowly retreating back, reverting to the cautious coyote you once liken him to be.
So you reply without hesitation, without question. “Yes of course I’ll watch him. I’ll keep him safe I promise.”
You don’t miss the way Din’s eyes beneath the shadow of his hat go wide for a split second. Everyone in the town swears this bounty hunter has no soul cause you can’t see his eyes, and even if you did you’d might find he has no soul. But you see it, the cowboy’s soul, right there along with heart bare before you as they shimmer in his eyes. The bandana masks any facial reactions but you hear his low molasses voice crystal clear-
“Thanks honey.”
This is an honor and privilege you will hold dear in your heart. The wildly curious baby boy is Din’s world. He cries the entire morning Din packs to leave and it breaks your heart.
Din gently softly strokes the baby’s chubby cheek and it’s a fondness, pure love between a father and son you feel like you’re intruding on. Until Din turns his eyes to you for a split moment, simply you and him caught in this snagged moment before he rapidly looks back at the baby.
“Make sure this one doesn’t get into trouble kid.” He teases with the baby about you and your heart grows wings, soars right out of your chest.
But that was two weeks ago.
The job was meant to take a week and now your mind spirals into worry, clouds up thick and heavy. It only worsens when you head to the feed store to grab a few extra provisions.
“Storm’s coming soon, make sure you lock up early for the night.” The older store owner announces what you’ve been dreading.
You felt the storm coming in your bones.
Living so many years out here you start to notice the changes in the air, the shift in the wind, the glooming clouds creeping more and more off in the distance. It makes your heart drop. You clutch the little boy asleep on your shoulder tighter as you readjust the blanket you’ve mostly kept him hidden under.
“So, you really still ain’t telling us where you got this babe from are ya?” The store owner means well. They all do in their own way.
“Like I told you and everyone else I grew him in my garden.” You answer.
He laughs at your reply and before anything more can be asked you rush out back home.
The rain comes first. It’s a blessing most days, a breeze of grace relieving the town and the earth of the heat. Now it floods your heart with dread.
What if Din is dead? What if he's in need of help?
What if he’s lost somewhere?
He can’t be lost you rationalize. He knows his way and you know that. He’s the best navigator you’ve known just from hearing him talk about his travels. But everything in you screams, almost begs you, to steal a horse from the town to try to find him and just do something.
It only gets worse as the storm only picks up. The sky from your window, dark and thundering, becomes a harbinger of dread.
The wind howls fierce. It shakes the house with a force reminding you that you are just a small human and cannot fight against a storm. Baby boy cries clutching you tight and you wipe his sweet watery glossy eyes soaked bright in the lamplight.
“It’s okay bug, we’re fine. I’m here. We’ll wait this out.”
Wait out the storm, wait for Din.
Thankfully the baby falls asleep while unfortunately your body is unable to settle though. You blame the rattling thunder now competing with the wind.
However, it’s there in the sound of the storm that you hear it - the fierce sound of a horse outside your cabin.
With a fast glance at the baby sound asleep you scramble to head outside. The wind whips out to greet you first. But in that whirlwind, through the pelting rain, you see the black stallion horse you are so afraid of and then his rider.
There he is, a phantom in the storm, your cowboy.
“Din!” You scream and move before you even realize it. A few steps off the porch and there you are rushing, flying out in the storm to him.
The rain soaks you to your bones instantly. You almost fall in the thick mud as you rush to him. His focus isn’t even on you. Din is busy in finally settling down his horse as he ties his fierce companion to the side of your fence post. That’s when Din turns towards you for a split second before you barrel into him.
You can’t help it. You had fought back the thoughts of him never coming back and truly becoming a ghost. And now here he was, solid and soaked in your arms. Your ghost, your phantom, your cowboy, is a man consecrated here and you don’t want him to leave ever again.
“I-I’m sorry!” You stammer pulling back realizing what the hell you’ve done. “I just…Come on! Let’s get out of this storm!”
He lets you wrangle him to the safety of your porch like he’s one of your rascally goats.
If only the townspeople could see him now.
This myth, this mysterious wild bounty hunter of a man with more guns you want to even think about, is drenched. His bandana is sticking to his face and you can see the outline of his striking nose.
As you try to make sure this phantom doesn’t disappear before your eyes, your lips twitch wanting to cry and you hate it.
“I thought you weren’t coming back.” Your voice leaves you, a croak so small you’re afraid it might get caught up in the wind.
“I was…I was so scared thinking you might not come back.”
The rain, you think, must still be dripping down your face until your vision blurs. You blink and discover tears streaming full on rivers down your face. Your focus has even gone away from the bounty hunter, like maybe you really are waiting for this to be a desert mirage.
Boots suddenly stomp on your porch, fiercely loud and sharp, as if they’re trying to mimic the thunder roaring around you. You look up. Din, bare face with his bandana yanked down, walks fast and fierce towards you. He is all you see before his lips are on yours.
The kiss steals your soul and is all consuming. His gloved hand holds your face like you might be the one to disappear in the air. For being a wild bounty hunter, the town's terrifying ghost story, he kisses you tender. Both of your clothes are drenched. His lips are cold. But it is everything you wanted.
“Honey.” He breathes out and it’s all you need.
All you can do is clutch onto him, your rain soaked phantom, and let the storm whip around the two of you. Your heart thanks the wind for bringing him home to you.
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cherry-queens-blog · 4 months
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A story I wrote since I've been really depressed lately and haven't been okay at all for awhile so I put it into this story. It is short yes but i did put my own feelings and situation into this.
Dealing with depression, stress, self hatred. Gyutaro who had taken such a liking to you comforts you when he hears you crying in the bathroom.
COMFORT FOR THE PAIN
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It had been an entire year now since you allowed Gyutaro to stay with you in your home, growing used to him dragging people in to feast on them, hearing them scream as he cut them open with his sickle, pulling out their insides, ripping off their limbs from their bodies and devouring them from inside your basement. It took a good while to get used to it despite it still making your blood run cold through your entire body, knowing that, that could be you one day if he decides to turn on you besides the fact that you two get along quite well and him offering you protection for letting him use your home to hide from the sunlight. Gyutaro is usually always gone during the night so you had some peace before he brought home another victim of his for dinner. Lately these last 6 months had been really hard on you after you had lost your job, applying everywhere that was hiring only to keep getting constantly denied, which sent you into a dark spot. Now drowning in depression and stress and having no one to help you through this time or no one to even talk to since you had no friends at all, and family can't help you either and also doesn't speak to you unless they want something from you which made it worse. You felt so damn alone and so low while struggling to do everything you can just to pay off bills, get food to eat, even going to the extent to sell yourself out to men just to get the money to survive. One night the burden was to much, the hurt really setting in as it was almost time for Gyutaro to come back from his hunt. You went into the bathroom to hide yourself so you could cry it out without him seeing. You really didn't want him seeing you in such a vulnerable, crying state at all since he is a demon and you know he is gonna say a bunch of hurtful stuff right? like how your being pathetic, weak, so on. As you enter inside the bathroom you couldn't help it, you broke down instantly after shutting the door and curling up in front of the bathtub, laying your head into your knees as your tears fell from your eyes. Unfortunately when he got back, walking past the bathroom he could hear your faint sobbing from inside and out of curiosity he opened the door, seeing you sitting in front of the tub. A faint sigh is heard from him as he walks over, sitting down beside you, putting his arm around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.
He hugs you tightly as you break down, tears running down your cheeks, whimpers leaving your lips, sniffles from your nose. He doesn't know what's going on or what it is about you but seeing you like this made him feel more protective of you, he actually wanted to care for you. The sense of absolute hurt and overbearing pain was so apparent and radiating from your body that even gyutaro could feel it. The way you cried so hard you could barely breath, choking on the air you could get into your lungs only for it to feel so difficult to exhale sometimes. Gyutaro ends up pulling you onto his lap and started to pet your head, stroking your hair so gently while looking at you. He could tell you were really hurting by the way you were crying and how heavy your breathing was. He looked at you with pure love in his eyes when he speaks up. "Aww what's wrong my little blossom?, you know whatever is bothering you, you can tell me." He says softly with his croaky, rough voice. "Everything is just so hard, I'm wearing myself out trying so hard gyutaro, I have no one in my life that can help or even wants to speak with me, i can't even get another job and I just hate myself so fucking much right now, and I just don't understand why you bother with me when I'm just nothing but pathetic, useless, and just not enough for anyone else, I also don't belong anywhere either. You should've just killed me when we met" You cried, whimpering, voice cracking as you spoke. Gyutaro couldn't believe what you just said as his facial expression is now one of complete shocked. Did you really just say he should've killed you? He thought to himself, shaking his head before holding you a little tighter now against his rough body.
"Look at me" He said sternly, putting his fingers under your chin and making you look at him, your lips in a frown as your bottom lip quivered a bit from the crying. "stop saying such pathetic things like that, I won't tolerate it understand" He spoke with a serious voice now. You felt speechless, all you could do was just look at him after hearing him say that. Gyutaro sighed and started caressing your cheek with his thumb, rubbing it in circles on your damp skin. "I'm not sure how many times i must repeat myself but i am here for you, alright?" He says as he looks at you in the eyes meaning every word he said to you but it still felt a little hard to believe him but you will trust it you suppose as you put your arms around his neck, burying your face into the side of his neck, wetting his skin with your tears as they dropped onto him like warm rain that was plastered in agony. Gyutaro could feel your tears crash against his skin wetting it as he held you close, petting your head again with his hand, putting his other arm over your waist and rubbing your back trying to ease the hurt and discomfort your feeling that is drowning you so deeply right now. After awhile your crying starts to die down, exhaustion taking hold of you as all the crying had worn you out completely and you end up falling asleep peacefully in Gyutaros arms. Gyutaro gets up still holding you in his arms as he exits the bathroom, walking to the bedroom. He enters the room and lays you down in bed, covering you with a blanket. Gyutaro watches you for a good moment when he gets an idea, a good one too that could help you out drastically. The sun starts to rise in the dark sky giving the que that Gyutaro had to leave alone in the room while you slept. He rushes out and heads down into the dark basement letting you rest and relax after what just happened. He really does love you and he will help you in anyway he can.
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New Beginnings
There is so much I want to say about what has recently been going on in my life.
I was really struggling emotionally in college, particularly with my depression, anxiety, eating disorder issues, and suicidality. It wasn't a new struggle, but it was bad at that time, and I was consumed with my problems. When I discovered my current field (child life specialist) in a class I was taking, my life dramatically shifted. I felt that God had placed this in my life because not only was it a perfect fit for both my gifts and goal to serve others, but it saved me from my toxic struggle with myself.
(For those that don't know, child life specialists help hospitalized children cope with medical experiences, teach children about their diagnoses, and provide support during procedures - learn more here.)
In deciding to pursue child life, I felt passionate, excited, and I was focused on others, rather than myself. It was a very competitive field and took years to complete my schooling, clinical practicum and internship in multiple children's hospitals, along with passing my exam to become certified. When I applied for my first job, the only program that exists near my family, due to complicated social factors I won't get into now, that manager said she would never consider hiring me.
To say that I was shocked and crushed was an understatement - I cried for days, my chest hurt as if someone punched it, and I felt so lost and confused. Why would God lead me to a field that if followed, would not allow me to live with my family, friends, and faith community? I was at such a low place that the only comfort I found was at the foot of the cross, and I prayed this prayer: "Jesus, my dreams have died and I bury them at your feet. Let Your Blood pour out onto them, that You may water them, and something beautiful may grow." I prayed this over and over again, every moment that I felt abandoned.
I then pursued jobs in other hospitals and got a job out of state - it was about 4 hours away from my family. I have been at this job for two years, and while I have been able to truly live my dream helping kids cope with illness, injuries, and traumas, I had trouble coping with being so far from my support system. This October we had so many deaths and horrific cases in a row I broke down in my boss's office and told her I don't know if I can continue to do this alone out here. I told my mom that if I couldn't find a job closer to home by Christmas of this year, I will have to abandon the field I worked so hard for and feel so called to do, for my own mental health.
On Good Friday - Good Friday, the day on which Jesus's blood was poured out for the world - my dream job becomes available only minutes away from my family.
The problem was that it was with the same health system that had previously told me they would never consider for me for their team.
I applied, and the process was agonizing - every step seemed to take so long, even though each only took a few days, and the waiting was painful because I knew I was hoping against hope that they would consider me, yet this hope and joy would bubble up inside me because I knew this was from God. I just knew, and no matter how much I tried to put my feelings in their proper place, I just knew.
My interviews went wonderfully and I was offered the job within 10 minutes of leaving their office. I was in the car driving and was overwhelmed with knowing my dream being resurrected when I had accepted long ago it would never, ever happen. God found a way to bring me home.
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smurphyse · 9 months
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Doors I Painted Shut | Spencer Reid
Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 7 of Routine Maintenance
Warnings: arguments, mentions of suicidal thoughts, mentions of Spencer's past drug use, bad flirting, makeouts, awkward boners
Summary: Spencer and Emily have a serious talk. Later, Spencer can't keep his eyes off you at a bonfire.
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The walk to his room reminded Spencer of the BAU. Every time he'd had to trudge down to the Chief's office, knowing he was about to get yelled at, played through his mind and made his shoulders sink. 
He struggled with the sticky door, and eventually Emily opened it for him. She walked in and sat down on his bed, and Spencer plopped down next to her. They sat there awkwardly for a few minutes, all the happiness at seeing one another for the first time in two years dissipating into the anxious pool of memory. 
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"You look skinny," she finally said. "Are you eating enough?"
Spencer groaned and rubbed his face with his hand, "Ugh, Emily."
"I'm sorry. Sorry," she said softly, holding up her hands in defeat. She pointed to his face, "How are you holding up?"
"I'm just glad it's not broken. I was worried the next time I saw Morgan he wouldn't call me pretty boy anymore." Spencer chuckled weakly, hoping it would make this all less uncomfortable, but Emily didn't. 
"So you're planning on coming back to DC sometime?"
Spencer shrugged, "I don't know."
She nodded, looking around the room to quell some of her anxiety as he glowered down at his feet. Emily pointed to the dresser across from the bed. It was littered with bottles from the past few days. "You're drinking again."
"I'm not using. Don't worry," he muttered. He dug through his pocket and pulled out a metal coin, holding it up to her. "I've still got my chip. I go to meetings."
"Of course I'm worried, Spence-," she began, but Spencer didn't want to hear it. He stood sharply and flung out a hand in irritation. 
"I didn't ask you to, Emily! I'm a grown man and I can take care of myself!" Spencer didn't know why he was shouting, but he couldn't stop himself. 
"Yeah, and you're doing a great job with a busted face and a dislocated arm from a bar fight!" she yelled back, standing with him. "Look at you! You're in the middle of nowhere, getting into fights, going off with strangers. You don't even look like yourself!"
"I'm doing my best," Spencer hissed through gritted teeth. "Did it ever occur to you that I don't want to be myself anymore? Or at least not who I was back then?"
He turned toward the sliding door, making his way toward it. It was still latched shut, the curtains stock still instead of waving in the breeze like his first day. Spencer glared at the lock, but he couldn't bring himself to open it. If he did, he might just take off running for the beach. 
"Do you remember how I found you two years ago?" Emily's voice came softly from behind him. "The day before Diana died?"
Of course Spencer remembered. Everything was falling apart. He was having nightmares, failed relationship after failed relationship, arguments with his friends. His mother was dying, a waste of her former self… her brilliant mind was gone. He'd been drinking for days alone in his apartment, existing in a court of horrors led by the ghosts of his past. 
Emily came in with her extra key. She found him crying in the other room. Spencer had a 1967 Colt .45 hanging loosely from his fingers, gathering up the courage to put it in his mouth. Emily smiled as she eased the gun from his hand, and he was frozen with joy that someone, anyone, had stopped him. 
He looked her straight in the eye as they both cried silent tears. She got to her knees in front of him and held his face so gently his whole being crumbled. 
It's been years since I've been low like this, he'd told her. I don't like me. 
Emily drove him to his mother's nursing home then, pumping him with coffee to sober him up. He was at her side when she died, and everything became crystal clear. He knew why Gideon left, why he never came back even though he loved Spencer and the team. They were as much ghosts as the people they couldn't save. 
"I don't like me," Spencer whispered now as he watched the sun over the ocean. It seemed so peaceful out there, like if he walked into the waves they would carry him where he was supposed to go. 
"The next day, when you told me she passed and you gave me your resignation…" Emily's voice cracked as she came up behind him. He had to close his eyes to take the impact of her words. "I thought that was the last time I was ever going to see you until I had to identify your body."
"Yet I'm still here," he said bitterly. Pure venom dripped from his tongue as he said it, and a bit of gratitude. She had saved him so he could spend his mother's last moments on this earth with her, and he would forever be thankful for that. She gave him the courage to make a change and leave instead of ending it all in one final blast of blood and bone and gunpowder. 
He thought he'd painted this door shut, but now there was a draft coming from underneath. He didn't want to die, but he was petrified of getting up and facing those demons. That's why he ran away, why he was still running away. 
"When you called me from Georgia, I was so proud of you." Emily's hands landed softly on his shoulders, and she pressed her forehead into his spine. "You were alive, you were out there. I thought you were going to find yourself and what makes you happy.
"You were supposed to come back, Spencer."
Spencer turned slowly, taking one of her hands in his. He squeezed her fingers and looked her dead in the eyes, "I'm never coming back to the BAU. I don't belong there anymore."
"You could teach-."
"Teach FBI recruits that the BAU is a rewarding place to work? You and I both know that's not true. Just like the people we hunt, that place destroys people," he growled, baring his teeth. "That job killed me, Emily. I'm out here trying to rise from the fucking ashes, not glue a broken vase and fill it back up with trauma."
"I don't like me," Spencer said brokenly. He passed her and went to the bottle-laden dresser. "I don't want to die… or maybe I do, I don't know."
Spencer licked his lip, looking up to see himself in the mirror on the wall. His hair touched his shoulders, a beard he never would have had at twenty four growing scraggly across his chin. His mottled nose made his eyes look even more sunken in and exhausted, and he even noticed a few gray hairs at his temples. 
"I wanted the Spencer Reid you knew to die, and he did, Emily. He's gone."
"I loved that Spencer," she affirmed, but she didn't know what she was talking about. "He was sweet, and so much smarter than we deserved. I've never met anyone so full of love and kindness."
The rage that had been simmering at the back of his heart suddenly went full boil. He hated that Spencer, mostly because he disappeared without him even noticing, replaced by the broken shell of a man he was when he left. 
Sweeping his arm, Spencer thrust all the bottles on the dresser to the floor. They crashed on the hardwood in a flurry of glass and plastic, making Emily jump a few steps back. 
His chest heaving, Spencer turned to look at her. Hot wet tears soaked his cheeks, grief consuming his soul as he watched his best friend. 
"Spencer…" she whispered, her eyes welling. 
"I need you to know, I love you still," he told her. "I don't like me. Not this me. The best version of myself is still out there, and I am not coming home until I find him."
Emily's jaw tightened. She nodded in agreement, "I hope he's better than the one in front of me now."
Something in his chest ripped apart at her words. Decades of love and friendship was now the distance between them. Spencer never questioned Emily's love for him, and she was the only one who never treated him like a burden… but she knew the old him too well. He was now used to being a shadow in the night, and here was the light of day exposing him and all of his pain. 
"Is everything okay?" Honey's voice came frantically. She rounded the doorframe and into the room, her bare feet coming to a stop just before all the broken glass. 
Her eyes flicked warily between Spencer and Emily, and she pointed a thumb over her shoulder, "I'll…go get a broom."
"You don't have to clean this up," Spencer told her quietly. He ran an anxious hand through his hair and gave her an apologetic look. 
Honey made a face, "I'm not cleaning up shit. I ain't your maid."
Then she was gone, leaving just Spencer and Emily once more. Emily started laughing, "I really like her, Spence."
He glowered at her, but he couldn't help but chuckle, "You shouldn't."
Honey came back a second later with a bucket and a broom. She set them just inside the doorframe, pointedly ignoring Spencer and flashing Emily a big smile. "You going to the bonfire tonight? Drinks and food on the beach, plus music."
Emily smiled back, then pointed at Spencer. "We'll be there."
Honey tapped the door frame before disappearing again. He turned to her and grumbled, "Why did you do that? I don't want to go to a bonfire."
Emily shrugged, "Old Spencer hated bonfires and parties. Shouldn't new Spencer try them out?"
"Look," she sighed when he gritted his teeth in response. "I'm not going to tell you what to do, even though all I want to do is burden you with sisterly advice. But…"
She stepped around the glass and picked up the broom, handing it to him. The plastic was cool in his hand, light as a feather. "Clean yourself up. Take as long as it takes. Be alone as much as you need to be. But don't you ever forget that if at any moment you need to call me, or I need to get on a plane… I will do that."
Emily's eyes blazed with the weight of her words, and suddenly the broom seemed like a broadsword, the thing he'd use to slay any demon in his path. "I love you, Spencer Reid. I love all the men that you are, that you will be, and that you have been. All these years, all these hurts and loves and losses and I've never stopped. I never will."
Spencer's chin wobbled pitifully as he watched her, his voice shaking, "You promise?"
Emily's hands lashed out, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Spencer's tears quickly turned into sobs of relief. Deep down, he knew her words were true, but hearing them out loud and instead of in the teensy tiny optimist section of his brain made everything better. 
"I promise," she swore, clutching him tightly. They swayed back and forth as they held one another, just reveling in the comfort of a lifelong friend
"I promise."
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Around seven, Emily went to get changed for the bonfire. They'd cleaned up the glass together and put it in the bucket Honey brought. Spencer wasn't quite sure why, but he couldn't bring himself to throw away the broken pieces just yet, so he left it by the bedside. 
They laid on the bed after, talking about the last two years more in depth than he had ever on a Zoom call. At his request, Emily left out most of the nitty gritty things about work, instead telling him about the team and their families. He told her about all the places he'd been, and she was most excited about the World's Largest places like the ball of twine and the rocking chair. 
His shoulder was already feeling better, mostly just sore. He was looking forward to taking it off completely, but followed Dr. Altman's direction to keep it on another day. He even managed to dress himself, this time in an old FBI tee Emily brought him and a blue over shirt and khakis. He still wasn't a fan of jeans, and after Mexico likely never would be. 
The summer heat soared while they were inside, and even though the sun was close to setting, sweat immediately formed on the back of Spencer's neck. They walked easily to the beach, Spencer pointing out some of the places he'd found to Emily. She told him about her night with Honey, how after a few drinks she'd spilled more than she meant to. 
"I shouldn't have told her you worked with the FBI," she apologized. She'd opted for some shorts and a tee, holding some flip flops in her hand as they walked. "I'm sorry."
"Honestly? It's okay," Spencer decided with a small smile. "Last night, I told the guys about some of my work. They were really great to talk to. I think I needed to let some of it out."
"They all served, right? I'm sure they understood where you were coming from."
"They were all Rangers except for Lionel," Spencer agreed, laughing a bit. "I guess he was in the Army Ranger Wing in the Defense Forces of Ireland. You wouldn't think it with all the piercings."
"People aren't what they seem at face value, Spence. You of all people know that," Emily told him as they hit the beach. He could see people playing soccer and hanging around the bonfire. There was already a nice little crowd forming, cheering on the players. "They're like onions. Nothing but layers."
Spencer grunted in agreement, because unfortunately she was right. He'd judged too many of these people too early. He was begrudgingly enjoying them and this little town. Even Honey was growing on him. 
He spotted her as they reached the bonfire. She wore a tiny pair of shorts and a sports bra, running around the makeshift soccer field. Her long tanned legs gleamed in the fading light, shining with sweat and flecks of sand. Her wild hair strained to be free from her ponytail, bouncing behind her as she bolted around. 
They were using old fishing nets attached to poles as their goals. Honey was lightning fast, faking people out and running circles around them. Even though she was barefoot and on sand, she showed no signs of slowing down. She passed the ball to Rico, who caught it with the side of his foot, tapped it to correct the direction, then bolted for the goal.
Someone blocked his way, and they fumbled for the ball for a moment before Rico spotted Honey at the corner of the box. He kicked it her way, but it caught air and soared over the players in the middle of the field. Honey wasn't deterred, expertly letting it hit her chest and catching it with her foot. One cannon-like swing of her leg later, and it barreled through the goalie and into the net. 
"Fuck yes!" Rico roared happily. He and the rest of the team rushed Honey as the crowd cheered. 
Spencer watched with a reluctant smile as he picked her up and set her on his hip, all of them far too excited for a beachside pickup game. Emily made a beeline for Collie, who stood with Rose and Mattie May by the drinks cooler. A strong jawed man stood next to Collie with his arm around her waist as they approached, and Spencer assumed he was Augustín. 
Collie made some introductions, confirming Spencer's thoughts. Augustín wore a linen white shirt and matching shorts, his dark eyes locking into Spencer's as Collie introduced him. 
His grip was strong as he clasped Spencer's hand in both of his, "I want to apologize for my son's hotheadedness. I could blame it on his Latin blood, but in truth he's a boy lost in the woods."
Spencer shook his head, "There's nothing to apologize for. I like Rico. Plus, I think we're all a little lost, right?"
Augustín flashed Collie an approving look, and Spencer hoped that was a good thing. He patted Spencer's cheek and nodded, "You're a good boy. I can tell."
"Uh, thanks," Spencer said as he released his hand from his death grip. The rest of them chuckled and went about passing around drinks. 
Rose seemed to have him pegged, handing him a plastic cup with bourbon in it, then giving Emily a beer. Augustín held up his own to the center of the group and proudly declared, "Salúd!"
"Salúd!" they echoed, clinking their drinks together. Spencer savored the burn as it went down, absentmindedly glancing back to Honey. 
She was panting, coming down from her excitement and chatting with Rico, Holly, and Michelle from the diner. Spencer hadn't seen her without a shirt on before, and he couldn't help but admire her athletic body. She was well toned from years at sea and working with tools, a nice sheen of sweat glimmering off her skin from running around. 
He hadn't seen her smile very much, but it looked good on her. She waved her hands around as she spoke animatedly, making them all laugh. Rico stood a respectable distance away from her, but they seemed to have made up with the way she talked with him. He was happy about that. The thought of being a point of contention between them left a sour feeling in his gut. 
"Just like that," Emily murmured as she elbowed him lightly, "an IQ of 187 is slashed to 60."
"Shut up," he growled back playfully, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away. She was truly a beautiful woman who held herself with confidence, even if it contained an overwhelming grief. She put on a good front in front of her friends, one she didn't seem to put the effort into showing Spencer. 
She caught his eye, trailing off and letting her friends take over the conversation. Excusing herself, she went over to him, and Spencer broke away from Emily and his group to meet her halfway. 
"What happened to, 'that doesn't sound like my idea of a good time?'" Honey asked playfully, badly mimicking his voice. 
"Maybe I'm tired of being Mr. Buzzkill," he replied easily, making her laugh. Spencer pointed toward the cooler behind him, "Can I get you a drink?"
She shook her head slowly, giving him a soft smile. "I'm gonna stick with water tonight."
"Brave girl," he marveled, taking a cheeky sip of his bourbon. In situations like this, it became his lifeline, something to hold onto. 
They stood there for a while, silently sizing one another up. Honey's coy smile set a fire in his belly, though a part of his brain wanted to blame it on the alcohol. She waved a stray hand to his sling. 
"How's the arm?" she asked with a wide grin that he couldn't help but return. 
"Getting better. I'm looking forward to taking it off tomorrow."
"Good," she murmured, but as stilted as this conversation was she didn't seem uncomfortable. Instead she took a few steps closer until she was at his side, looking off at the ocean. He preferred looking at her. 
"You ever sail?" 
Spencer shook his head, "I'm not a strong swimmer."
Her eyes trailed the distance to the sunset, stretching far away. A light breeze caught her hair and made it dance in time with the waves, and she made no move to tuck that wildness away. 
"I miss it."
Spencer nudged her a bit with his elbow, and she turned to look at him with a soft swell of grief. A quote surfaced in his mind at the sight of her resilience, the gaping wound that would never quite heal. Give your tears back to the ocean. You have no use for them anymore. 
He almost said it aloud, but it was too personal. Instead he gave her a weak smile and said, "Good thing it isn't going anywhere anytime soon."
Honey smiled, a pretty shy smile as her bruised cheeks flushed. She rubbed an anxious hand over her neck as she glanced away from him, quickly catching sight of the water and pointing out toward it. 
"There's nothing like the smell of the salt water. Chasing the sunset…letting everything go and knowing you're nothing out there." He eyes faded once more, adventure taking over as a memory clicked in her mind. Her voice was soft as she continued, "You're at the mercy of the gods… They'll guide you home, or pull you under."
"That sounds like life," Spencer whispered. "You either give up under the water or fight to break the surface."
Honey cocked her head and watched him softly in the fading light. Her mouth quirked into a thoughtful smile, "What happens if you're too tired of treading water?"
Spencer shrugged, making a face, "You find someone to help hold you up."
"And if they're not a strong swimmer?"
That surprised him, but she couldn't be talking about him. She barely knew him, and didn't seem to want to. Was she just asking for advice? Did she want to know how he'd made it this far with what she now knew of him? Maybe she was testing him. 
Spencer's gaze bored into hers, though, his voice strong. "Then you teach them how. You save each other."
Honey seemed satisfied with his answer, and she nodded in reply. She turned to look at her feet, kicking the sand as she gathered her thoughts. Everyone around them chatted happily, focused on one another as Spencer and Honey stood off to the side. He hadn't realized how much they inched together during their conversation until her shoulder brushed his. The final blaze of the sun caught her cheekbones and shoulders, that summer tan the perfect shade. Despite the bruises, Spencer admired the slope of her nose, the way it framed her face so nicely. 
He wanted to reach out and touch her, run his fingers along the curve of her jaw and trail them over the back of her neck. Through the bourbon and loneliness, he imagined his palm would fit nicely there, his thumb rubbing that sensitive spot behind her ear. Maybe she'd even close her eyes and sigh at the feeling. 
She caught him staring, that gentle curve of her sweet smile reacting to his gaze. Spencer cleared his throat and chose to watch his drink instead. Maybe he should stop while he was ahead. 
A call from the group later and they joined them around the bonfire. Honey sat next to Holly and Michelle, Collie and Augustín on her other side. Spencer would look up just in time to see Honey avert her gaze somewhere else, and he couldn't help but do the same each time she did as well. 
Eventually someone brought out a guitar, someone else some cymbals. They passed it around, smoking, drinking, and eating and listening to a few songs. In between glances from Honey, Spencer spotted Rico watching them both with his brows furrowed. Spencer tried to stop after that, not wanting to ruin this burgeoning friendship with him, but it was as if his eyes were magnetized to her. 
The soft glow of the firelight hugged her cheeks, illuminating her smile every time she laughed at something someone said. She clutched a water bottle tightly in her lap as she sat cross legged in a lawn chair. After the sun went down and the air cooled, she started rubbing her arms and scooting closer to the fire. If all of these people weren't around, he likely would have given her his flannel. It would look good on her. 
Emily sat next to him, chatting easily with Mattie May and Rose. She was going to leave in the morning, so he tried to join in where he could, not wanting to waste this time with her. He'd missed her more than he cared to admit, but he glanced over again to catch Honey again quickly averting her eyes from him. 
It was a good night of hanging out on the beach, and after a few drinks Spencer found himself comfortable enough to doze. It was strange for him to sleep in a public place. Even on cases, Spencer was restless and awake every hour or so, but with Emily by his side and a group of people who had been nothing but kind to him, he let himself release a bit of tension and fell asleep.
He woke up to a soft hand on his shoulder, sniffling hard and adjusting his tired eyes to the light. Honey kneeled in front of him with a gentle smile, rubbing her palm softly so as not to jolt him awake. 
“What time is it?” he asked gruffly. He rubbed his face as she let out a soft chuckle. “Where’s Emily?”
“It’s about one in the morning, and she went to Collie’s with Rose, Mattie May and the De La Cruz’s,” she told him, but she didn’t pull away. The warmth from her hand bled through his shirt, his lonesome skin drinking in every drop of physical touch it could. “C’mon, I’ll take you back to the Inn.”
She held out her hand for him as she stood, and he let his palm slide over hers. He could have sworn her fingers squeezed his for a moment before letting go. Nobody else was around, instead they were off on different sections of the beach, leaving just him and Honey alone by the smothered fire.
"You don't have to leave the party if you don't want to," he said awkwardly, but she just shook her head.
"Everyone's pretty drunk and it's no fun being the sober one," she chuckled, then beckoned for him to follow. He did, and they made their way up the beach. By Spencer's memory he must have fallen asleep around ten, so three hours later he was pretty sobered up. His head hurt a little bit, but other than that he was fine. 
The stars shone so brightly that if he reached up his hand Spencer swore he could grab one right out of the sky. The glittering blanket above stretched for miles, kissing the sea behind them. Even the lights from town couldn't drown them out. 
"You can see everything out here," Spencer marveled as they walked. They weren't in a hurry, and the night was a nice temperature with the slight breeze, so they went about slowly. "The sky is so clear."
"You don't have that in DC?" Honey asked lightly. She still wore only her sports bra and shorts, her hands rubbing her arms to keep warm. 
"There's too much light pollution," he said, shaking his head. Spencer found himself removing the velcro of his arm brace, letting his arm down slowly. Most of the pain was gone, the bruises the only thing left of the fight a few days ago. "It was like that where I grew up too."
She watched him idly as he tucked the brace under his armpit and shrugged off his flannel. He handed it to her without a word, and she slipped it on with a small smile. It nearly swallowed her shorter frame, coming just above her knees. Spencer regretted giving it to her. She was far too cute like that. He just wanted to pick her up and carry her home.
"Where did you grow up?"
"Las Vegas."
She made a pleased noise, “Ahh, so you know how to count cards?”
Spencer squinted her way, chuckling, “Yeah?”
“Good, keep that to yourself,” Honey told him seriously. “There’ll be a poker night one of these days and you and I will clean up.”
Spencer shook his head and laughed, and they walked the rest of the way mostly in silence. It wasn’t a long journey, just up the hill, but at night Spencer had to admit he would have had a harder time finding it than in the day. 
He held the door open for Honey as they stepped into the Inn. The walk to his room felt shorter than before all of a sudden, almost unfairly.  Honey's door to her apartment was right across from his, and she unlocked the door and pushed it open. Lingering in the doorway, she leaned against the frame. Spencer made no move for his own door, instead content just standing there watching her as she thought of what to say next. 
"I'm glad you came out," she said after a bit, giving him another one of those soft smiles that made his chest hot. "And Emily. I like her."
"She likes you," he replied softly. "Thanks for inviting me. I had a good time."
"Good…" She trailed off, tapping the door frame absentmindedly. "Where do you think you'll go after this?"
"Probably Oregon," he said, "it's where I was going anyway."
Honey scoffed, "Oregon doesn't have anything on Thunderbird."
"Funny. That's what Nell said."
She squinted at him playfully, "That guy's crazy, you know."
"So are you."
Spencer was close enough to feel her body heat. His shirt hung open to show off her physique, toned and glistening in the dim light. He could even smell the sweat on her skin, those big eyes of hers watching him and waiting for his next move. Later he would blame it on the bourbon, but realistically Spencer knew he was sober. She just looked so damned good, and it had been so long. He wanted to feel her hands on his skin again, soft fingertips grazing up his back. 
“I should give you this back,” Honey decided. She moved to slip the flannel from her shoulders, but Spencer's hands reached out, dropping the arm brace in the doorway. 
“No,” he muttered, grabbing it by the lapels and pulling it back over her. Spencer tugged it closed, but he didn’t button it, instead holding it there with his hands as he looked down at her. 
Honey swallowed thickly, her eyes hooded. She watched him through her lashes, so soft and sweet like that in his clothes… Spencer didn’t even realize he was stepping forward until her chest brushed against his sternum. His hand slid from the shirt to glide over her shoulder and up her neck, cupping her jaw in his palm. The other wrapped around her waist as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.
Honey let out that sigh of relief he’d imagined as he kissed her, but in reality it was so much better than in his head. Her palms brushed their way up his chest until they wrapped around his neck. Her back arched as his thumb brushed her spine. Spencer flattened his palm to pull her hips flush with his. 
She didn't fight him, didn't smack or yell like a part of him thought she might. She melted into his embrace, kissing him back fervently. Spencer's fingers tangled into her ponytail, giving a soft tug and pressing his tongue against her bottom lip, demanding entrance. Honey moaned breathily as she let him in, making his chest swell with desire. Her body molded to his as he pressed her against the doorframe, small and strong and pulling just as much as she pushed. She tasted like salt water taffy, a bit like citrus, and he wanted more.
The hand on her back slipped down over her ample backside, giving her ass a rough squeeze before making his way down behind her thigh. She read his mind, hopping up as he lifted her and shoved her inside. His shoulder ached from the strain, but his lonely mind ignored it. Spencer pushed her up against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, grinding himself against her clothed core. 
His cock stirred in his pants, her soft moans only making him harder as they made out like horny teenagers. Her scent consumed him, making his head swim with lust. He hadn't been touched like this in so long, and hadn't been able to touch like this either. Spencer squeezed every part of her supple body he could, loving the way her soft skin molded to his hands. 
Honey was growing restless, her strong thighs clenching around his waist for friction. Spencer's free hand wandered under the flannel she wore, palming her soft belly and slipping it up to her breasts. She gasped as he ran the pad of his thumb over her nipple through the thin fabric of the sports bra, making him smile in satisfaction against her lips. 
He trailed kisses down her jaw to her neck, grazing his teeth along the sensitive flesh. Honey's hands tangled into his hair as he nipped and sucked a line to her collar bone, a shuddering whine escaping her kiss-bitten lips. 
"Thanks for walking me back," Emily's voice came from down the hall, making them both still. "I don't know where Spencer got off to."
In a swift movement, Spencer pulled Honey further into the doorway. He shut the door softly, turning the handle so the latch didn't sound out their location. With his nose buried in her neck, they stood there catching their breaths as quietly as they could as the footsteps approached. 
Spencer's heart pounded in his chest when he heard Rose's voice, "I'm sure he called it an early night. We kept him up late last night."
Spencer tore himself away from the taste of Honey's skin to look at her. She was watching the crack of the door, still holding tightly to him. Her lips were red and swollen, patches of blush and fresh bite marks littering her neck and chest. 
He couldn't help himself, so he pressed his lips to her neck. Spencer kissed his way to her jugular, swiping his tongue over it before giving her a soft bite. She sucked in a sharp breath, whispering through gritted teeth, "Fuck…"
"He said he had a really good time. Thanks for taking him out," Emily told him just as they passed the door Honey and Spencer were sinfully hiding behind. "He deserves to have some fun."
Spencer didn't really want to listen to them talk, instead wanting to bury himself deep inside this girl and feel her shudder around him. He pulled her off the wall and turned to go up to the apartment, but she pinched him. 
"The stairs creak," Honey warned him under her breath, so Spencer set her against the wall again and buried his face in her chest, letting out an irritated groan. 
Honey chuckled and patted his hair, almost making his leg thump like a dog’s. Her nails grazed his scalp, earning a guttural happy grunt from him. Spencer kissed the tops of her breasts softly, making his way up to her jawline once more before capturing her lips with his. 
He didn’t want to lose this momentum. He wanted to barrel toward release, and his mind swam with heady desire. Fuck, all he wanted was to listen to her make those sounds loud enough to crack the windows. She tried to hold back her noises as she kissed him back, but Spencer wanted to rip them from her over and over again… but Rose and Emily had other plans to ruin his night and his boner.
“Honey does too,” Rose muttered, but Honey heard it sure enough. They pulled slowly away from one another as he continued. “Since her husband died she’s just been… stuck. I’ve spent the last decade watching her be miserable and accepting no help.”
“Sounds like you have your own Spencer then,” Emily chuckled as Spencer and Honey had to look away from one another. “Maybe they’ll do one another some good.”
“Goodnight,” Rose said after a moment, and Emily returned it. Spencer listened until they heard the door shut and lock before turning back to her.
Honey swallowed thickly, but unlike before it was with anxiety instead of sexual tension. Her chest heaved, his moving in time. She let her hands fall from him and clenched them in front of her chest, so Spencer lowered her slowly to the floor. 
She watched him with those wide eyes as her feet hit the ground, neither of them quite sure what to do. Rose and Emily unknowingly slammed them with a thousand pounds of pressure when ten minutes ago all they were thinking about was getting laid. 
“I, uh, I should probably go,” Spencer muttered awkwardly as he took his hands off her tight unbelievably sexy body. “I’ve… been drinking. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Right,” she whispered back, but Spencer could tell it hurt her a bit by the way she looked to the left to avoid his gaze. “Thanks for… walking me home.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, even though she’d walked him back.
She tugged on the sleeve of the flannel. “Do you want this back?”
“No,” he told her again, gripping the lapels and pulling them closed over her scantily clad body. “Goodnight.”
Honey nodded and headed up the stairs without another word or a backward glance. Spencer waited for her to reach the top before heading back to his own room. He picked up the arm brace before opening her door and shutting it behind him. Spencer managed to get his sticky door open, quickly shutting it behind him.
Locking it, Spencer stood with his back against the hardwood, staring wide eyed at the sliding door. He could see people partying in the distance, but all the joy of the night dissipated with his hard-on. 
“What the fuck did I just do?”
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Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Notes: I love how much of a soft hardass Emily can be... as for Spencer and Honey? Oh I want them to screw so badly right now but unfortunately we have to wait ;)
Also, have you guy listened to any of the songs that these chapters are inspired by? Which one is your favorite?
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@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencersprettyslut @im-sure-its-fine @tvdstelenaforever @teddylupintonks  @lilibet261 @kneelforloki @dirtytissuebox @almostgenerallyalways @whovian378 @cl0udyqu33n @thegettingbyp2 @averagestudent03 @the-sun-died-out @squishycalumxo @sebastiansstanswhore 
@louderfortheback @pandabiiissh @calebye
@dottirose @lfaewrites @padsfirewhisky @wheels-upin-thirty @f-me-reid @justanothercmblog @academiareid @moyo5653 @comfybabie
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plentyoffandoms · 2 years
Text
Day 10 🎃 Drunk Sex/Spanking
Eddie Kingston x f/Reader (18+)
Requested by @maeleelee
Warnings: Some swearing. Descriptive sexual acts. Minors do not read. Unprotected sex. NSFW under the cut
Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.
Gifs and photos do not belong to me.
I hope you like it.
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Eddie Kingston's POV:
Seeing my girl like this always gets me going. YN has a very high stress job and when I can get her relaxed like this, it is pure pleasure.
I was able to convince her to go out tonight to the bar with a few friends of mine.
"But Eddie, I have so much work I have to do." She was looking at the pile of paperwork that she brought home with her.
"Baby, it is the weekend. Time to relax. Come out with me and the guys. They won't mind you coming along."
Even if they did, they can shut the fuck up because I want my girl to relax and I know getting her out of the house is the best possible way for her to do that. .
And now I am on my way to a nice buzz as I sip my own beer, watching as YN is at the jukebox, her hips swaying back and forth as she is trying to pick a song.
Someone was saying something to me, but I just waved off my friend, drank what was left in the bottle and walked towards YN.
I wrapped my arms around YN's waist and she tensed up at first, then relaxed when I muttered her name.
"Having a good time?" I asked her as I nipped her ear. She let out a low moan and titled her head more to the side as I kissed my way down her neck.
Sober YN would not be doing this as she knows that my photo could be taken at any moment and she does not wish for me to have any type of scandal, but buzzed almost drunk YN, that is a whole different story.
She pushed her ass against the front of my jeans and I groaned as she rubbed against me.
"Having a great time now that you are here." She giggled. I love this giggle. Always sounds so innocent and sweet, but I know she is horny and that the poor Uber Driver may get a show on the way home tonight.
"Behave YN." I turned her head slightly so I can see into her eyes. I could see the pout on her lips.
"I am behaving." She stomped her foot. I could see out of the corner of my eye people looking at her and her behaviour.
The grip I had her waist got tighter and I knew she felt it. "I said behave." I warned. This is number two.
She knows what happens when I have to repeat myself three times and I have a feeling that she is in enough of a bratty mood that may just happen.
"Make me." She slowly said to me.
~
"I told you to behave yourself, but you just had to go and misbehave didn't yeah?" I groaned out through gritted teeth as my hand made contact with her ass cheeks.
YN had tears streaming down her face from what I was doing. I knew she would have a hard time sitting on her ass after this, but that thought was pushed to the back of mind as slapped it twice more.
I have her over my lap, completely naked from the waist down.
"Eddie." She cried out as I slapped her ass again. "I'm sorry."
"Mm, too late love. You know what happens." I had a sick grin come over my face as I slapped her sore ass again.
"Ride me." I said to her as I helped her off of me. I laid down with my arms under my head and watched my girl clumsy climb on top of me.
"The other way baby. I want to see your ass bounce." I groaned to myself when I saw her listen to me and turned so she was facing away from me.
I gripped my cock and held her waist to help my tipsy girl sit on me, moaning at the feeling of finally being inside her after being turned on for most of the night.
The two of us moaning at the feeling of me stretching her out. I ran my hand up and down and her spine and she shivered slightly.
She sat there, not moving. I looked around her to look at the full length mirror that is so placed in front of our bed.
YN's eyes are close and she is squeezing and playing with her breasts. I watched as her eyes flung open when I slapped her ass to bring her back to reality.
"I said ride me." The sentence was barely out of my mouth as she slowly started to ride me. "Feel good Eddie." YN moaned.
"Shit YN, you feel good. Pussy so tight, so perfect for me." I groaned as I felt her clench around me.
YN rode me for a bit, completely lost in the pleasure. Moaning incoherent things that I can only catch bits and pieces of. "So big. Fuck me so good. Eddie." Was the gist of it.
"Need you to go faster baby." I moaned.
"No." And she actually slowed down. This is killing me. I wasn't in the mood to deal with this anymore.
I sat up and quickly pushed her face first into the mattress and I pounded into her from behind.
The only sounds in the room were her screams, my hand making contact with her ass and my hips slamming into her.
I laid across her back, never once letting up the brutal pace I have set, and forced her to look into the mirror. My face next to hers so I can the mirror clearly.
"Look what happens when you don't listen huh. Like being treated like my whore? My little slut?"
I would never be saying this to her if we were completely sober but I watched as her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she scream my name.
I felt her cum all over my cock and I couldn't hold it back anymore. I groaned her name loudly as I came deep inside her.
My own eyes were half closed as I enjoyed finishing inside of her.
"Good girl YN." I slapped her ass once more and pulled out of her.
"Eddie I'm sore."
"And you will be even more so. I'm not done with you YN."
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Taglist: please let me know if you would like to be added to the Kinktober tag list. @lghockey @wwenhlimagines @alexisquinnlee-bc @hooks-martin @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @crowleysqueenofhell @thenerdybaker523 @sistergurl-x716
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morningveil · 1 year
Text
15 Questions and 15 Mutuals
Tagged by @rose-in-the-snow lesgooooooo
1. Are you named after anyone? Middle name is in honor of Mama Mary.
2. When was the last time you cried? Earlier today because my 21 month old fell asleep the way he used to and I covered him with his baby blanket and he's so much bigger now and he's just gonna keep getting bigger don't TOUCH me-
3. Do you have kids? At least three.
4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? I don't actually know. I'm very deadpan? I use sarcasm in jokes sometimes? Somebody put a monitor on me to count on average how many times in a day I use sarcasm.
5. What's the first thing you notice about people? Their MOOD.
6. What's your eye color? Blue. If I elaborate on any other colors in my irises after saying blue, somebody from another corner of tumblr will smell it and come kill me on sight.
7. Scary movies or happy endings? Initriguing-but-not-quite-disturbing-but-not-exactly-comforting-either movies with a devastatingly painful ending that somehow still demands a tone of hopefulness.
8. Any special talents? I don't think I'm particularly great at anything. I'm okay with this. Keeps my pride in check. *fantasizes about being Extremely Good At Something and being Recognized For It constantly throughout the day* *which is unhealthy*
9. Where were you born? I was not born. I apparated one day at the age of seventeen. Anything that happened before then was lost in the burning of the Library of Alexandria.
10. What are your hobbies? Listen to me. Listen. I am a full-time single mother barely keeping the house functional. I haven't had a hobby in a hundred thousand centuries. I'd play video games if I had the time and money but those are two things that never seem to exist in excess in my corner of the world. I used to write music and poetry and that is maybe a monthly activity at this point. I read and wrote about philosophy. Now I just make low-fidelity short-form videos because that's all I have time for.
11. Have you any pets? Not presently, but thinking about getting a pair of dogs!
12. What sports do you play/have you played? Used to be really into rhythmic gymnastics and aerial (hoop and silks.) I don't quite have the skills I used to have in that department, so now I'm more of a fan of outdoor rock climbing and swimming in lakes/the ocean. Recently, I've been REALLY into the IDEA of figure skating, but have never actually worn skates in my life.
13. How tall are you? 147 cm
14. Favorite subject in school? Latin. Naturally, as a Catholic.
15. Dream job? At this point, I just want to be a full-time stay-at-home mother who has a large garden with food that I take to the farmer's market and other than that I'm just a homemaker. I have a few (very different) ideas of what I would want to do in different perfect worlds, but lately I'm trying to stop focusing on chasing MY dreams, and start focusing on what God wants me to be doing right now. Whatever that may be.
Tagging: I DON'T EVEN THINK I HAVE FIFTEEN MUTUALS HOLD ON LET ME LOOK @intothelionsden @zel-duhhh @semercury @americanette @zelda-obsessed @soldier-poet-king @paintingspyspy @corvusherpestidae @curly-cottage-girl @dumbassmcblyat @cygnascrimbles @i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky @mothmonologue @the-oddest-inkling @rubyintheskywithdiamonds
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aylacavebear · 2 months
Text
Stockroom Antics - Chapter 21
Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.
Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!
Word Count: 2688
Pairing eventually Dean Winchester x OC
Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Demon Deals, and Prior mention of the show's history of its darker encounters.
A/N: This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic. This one is taking on a life of it's own in a turn I hadn't anticipated, so adding a new tag.
----------------------------------------- Stockroom Antics Chapter 21
You’d almost finished the list of items when Bubbles took off into the war room, causing your gaze to follow. All you could do was glare at Dean, feeling the anger and jealousy again.
Why the hell are those two so buddy-buddy? You thought to yourself.
You tried to go back to the list, but your focus was gone. Something about how Bubbles seemed to be with Dean made you angry, and it had started the day before. For a moment, you glanced over at the papers that Bubbles had been writing on. She wasn’t bad and seemed to pick it up quickly. Your curiosity quickly got the better of you, so you went to see what was going on in the kitchen.
“Huh, she didn’t seem mad last night,” Sam said, a little puzzled, but Bubbles nodded, “At least the dragon understands English.”
“Her name is Bubbles,” you told them in a low, annoyed tone, crossing your arms.
After grabbing a cup of coffee and their greetings, you returned to the library and your list. You’d been attempting to remember the things you needed for some of your favorite dessert recipes and were still doing so when the brothers and Bubbles joined you.
You refused to look up at them, at least at first, and Dean’s happy mood only seemed to annoy you further. Hearing Dean sound like he was trying not to laugh made you shift only your eyes so you could glare at him. When Dean lost it laughing, it pushed you past your point of control, shifting your focus from Dean to Sam. 
“Is she talking to you too?” you practically demand from Sam.
Sam put his hands up in surrender, “Nope. Bubbles doesn’t talk to me,” he quickly answered, then sipped his coffee.
It was bad enough that Dean told you not to be mad. Then, to have Bubbles bring you over a piece of paper with the word “stubborn” written on it pushed you far over the edge. You crumpled up the paper and went to your room, doing your best not to slam the door behind you.
Then, you plopped onto your bed, facefirst into your pillow, and cried. Everything hit you all at once. You felt like you’d lost everyone you’d ever cared about having to stay at the bunker. You hadn’t been able to talk to them, knowing they would have asked far too many questions that you couldn’t answer. That feeling of loneliness also hit you. It wasn’t so bad when you were at your home, but you’d felt it ten-fold here. It had only gotten worse when Bubbles seemed to talk more to Dean than to you.
After your accident, you had spent the first two years coming to terms with the fact that you’d probably be alone the rest of your life. Now, finding out you were a Pari and supposedly had a soulmate, it all hurt that much more. With Bubbles coming to you and with what Astaria had said about you already having recently met him, more tears fell. You were too afraid to give in to letting either of the brothers touch your skin, and you hoped you’d never see the King of Hell again. 
What if it was Sam, but you were attracted to Dean? What if it was Dean, but he didn’t see you that way or even like you in that way? What if it was the King of Hell? The last one bothered you more than the other two. That was who the brothers were protecting you from, and what if he was your soulmate?
You weren’t sure how long you bawled into your pillow or when you fell into a dreamless sleep, having cried so much out of your system. It was the angry words reverberating off the walls of the war room that woke you. 
You still felt sleepy, rubbing your eyes a bit as you made your way down the hallway. Hearing Dean sound as angry as he did almost scared you. He was telling someone to get out of the bunker. 
“What’s going on?” you asked, rubbing the last of the sleep out of your eyes, trying to focus on the scene in front of you.
Sam was standing up by the closest library table. Dean was in the archway between the war room and the library, and he looked pissed. Then there was Bubbles, who was at the top of the couple of steps that led into the hallway where you were standing. She was growling at a red-headed woman who was standing in the war room, about five feet from the bottom step.
“Oh, there’s the little angel,” Rowena cooed, looking over at you.
“Who are you?” you asked, meeting her gaze. The woman didn’t look mean or scary.
“Yes, dear, introductions are in order. Can’t leave it up to the Neanderthals after all,” she said sweetly, “I’m Rowena.”
You didn’t notice how the brothers were watching you as Rowena’s words made your body freeze in fear where you were standing. The fear also flashed in your eyes, but you attempted to control it. The last thing you needed was for that woman to see you as weak.
“Catch,” Sam hollered, tossing a round pouch-looking thing toward you.
Just as you reached out to catch it, Rowena made it catch fire mid-air, smirking, “Those won’t be necessary. I’m not going to hurt the poor darling. She looks terrified,” she said, sounding almost sad for you. Then she looked at the brothers, “You two are the worst hosts, scaring her like you have.”
All of a sudden, you were no longer in the bunker, the brothers weren’t there, and neither was Bubbles. You were in what looked like a hotel room, a fancy one at that. You even had to squint a little at the sunlight coming in through the windows.
“There, that’s better. Isn’t it deary,” Rowena told you with that sweet tone she had used earlier. It almost sounded like she cared.
“Where are we?” you asked her, in a mild state of shock.
“Just my hotel room for this week. Get comfy. We have a lot to discuss,” she replied, her Scottish accent coming out with every word. She also seemed excited, or at least you guessed she seemed that way. 
She had gone and sat in a chair on the other side of the living room area of her hotel room. So, you sat down on the couch, a coffee table between the two of you. You were nervous, but at the same time, you were puzzled and confused. When Sam had said that Rowena was Crowley’s mother, this woman was not what you pictured. You had pictured someone who would have seemed evil. This woman had a sweetness to her tone and a softness to her smile when she looked at you and spoke to you.
“I’m not going to hurt you, deary,” she said softly, giving you another friendly smile, pulling you from your thoughts.
Taking a slow, deep breath, you mustered some courage. Since you had no clue where you were, you might as well take advantage of the situation. “What do you want with me?” you asked her, more curious than anything.
For a moment, Rowena didn’t answer, as if she was debating an answer. “I’ve heard of you and your predicament. You know, my son doesn’t want to hurt you. He just wants to help you,” she explained.
You felt your skin crawl, “I don’t want to be indebted to anyone, especially the King of Hell. I’ll figure things out on my own. So, thank you anyway,” you replied, barely keeping your voice from shaking.
You noticed how her smile faded a little. She glanced at a mostly closed door, then took a breath, straightened up a bit, and turned to you with that friendly smile again. “It would only be a small favor. Nothing too big. I am capable of doing the spell to awaken your powers,” she told you. The sweetness in her tone was almost scary.
“What would you want?” you eventually asked her, your curiosity getting the better of you.
She smiled, almost gleefully, “Just a small vile of your blood.”
Your brow furrowed at her response. You’d expected something more. It seemed like she wasn’t asking you for anything at all, having no clue just how dangerous what she was asking was. “Would you give me some time to think about it?” you asked, more curious than before.
“But of course. I wouldn’t want you to rush into a decision. Now, would you like some tea?” she asked you, making a cup of tea appear on the coffee table for you and one in her hand for herself.
“Uh… sure,” you answered, still confused.
Once the cup of tea was in your hand, you used your powers to test to make sure it wasn’t drugged. To your surprise, it wasn’t. The way the brothers had seemed, Rowena was evil and someone to be wary of, but that wasn’t how she was behaving. At least, that was what you thought.
“So, what did those two overgrown children tell you about me?” Rowena asked you, and you almost laughed a little at how she described them.
“They didn’t tell me much. Just that you were the King of Hell’s mother and a powerful witch,” you answered, sipping the tea, which was surprisingly good.
She rolled her eyes, “Of course, they’d only tell you that,” she scoffed and sounded hurt, then set her tea on the table next to her chair. “They clearly left out all the times I helped them when they needed it.” Rowena then seemed to get upset, which surprised you, “They put me in chains numerous times, even though I’d said I’d help them,” she sniffled.
Your brow furrowed again, confused, “You’re not what I pictured, and I’m sorry that happened to you. Why would they do that?” you asked, your mind racing with very conflicting information about the brothers and Rowena now.
Rowena wiped a tear that had slipped from her eye, “They are hunters, and I am a witch, so why would they trust me to keep my word?” she replied, sounding so hurt by the ordeal that she’d been through.
“They hunt witches too?” you asked, feeling bad for her and now questioning the kind of people the brothers were.
“Well, yes, deary. They hunt all the supernatural, and witches fall into that category because we can do magic,” she explained, giving you a sad smile.
Too many questions went through your mind. Had you been wrong to think you could trust the brothers, wrong to fear the King of Hell, wrong to be scared of Rowena? She smiled, but you missed it as you looked down at the tea in your cup, lost in your thoughts at the moment.
“You know, they’re wrong about my son too. He doesn’t want to hurt you,” she explained softly.
You quickly looked up at her, fear in your eyes for a moment, “I know. He just wants to use me,” you told her, attempting to sound confident, but it didn’t come out as strongly as you wanted.
Rowena looked at you sympathetically, “Oh, sweetie. It’s not like that at all. He just wants to keep you safe, and people tend to end up dead when they rely on those two-” she was cut off as a man stepped into the room.
“Now mother, moose, and squirrel only do what they think is right. It’s not their fault they are incompetent,” he mused, sitting on the other side of the couch from you, creating himself a cup of tea.
Your breath hitched as you tried not to let them see the fear you felt when Crowley entered the room. You even set your tea down, knowing your hands were shaking too much at that moment. 
“Those boys have terrified this poor girl. Just look at her. Her hands are shaking,” Rowena stated in a worried and concerned tone.
It was almost too much for you. Rowena was being friendly to you, seemed to care about what you were going through, and even trying to comfort you. Then there was the King of Hell, sitting on the other end of the couch from you, and he wasn’t even looking at you. The fear began subsiding the longer the two talked.
“Wel, mother, they’d do anything for each other. Be damned anyone else,” Crowley told her.
You felt like he was almost ignoring you, and that oddly annoyed you, but for now, you just listened to the two of them.
“When Sam died, Dean made a deal, going to hell. Then, he broke the first seal, which inevitably led to the release of Lucifer,” Crowley explained, seeming annoyed. Although, it almost seemed to you that he was worried about you. “Then there were the Leviathans, who hurt and killed a lot of innocent people,” he continued but paused to take a sip of his tea.
“Don’t forget about them not telling me that by removing the Mark of Cain, it would let out the Darkness. Not only did they have me in chains, but they also tricked me,” she added, sounding really sad about the incident.
They continued back and forth, adding many more incidents, and then they brought up all the people that the brothers had known over the years who had died, helping them or relying on them. You were utterly confused now. The sun was beginning to set outside, but you barely noticed. “So… what exactly do demons do?” you found yourself asking, finally looking over at Crowley.
He smiled, and oddly enough, it almost looked kind, “We make deals with humans. Someone wants something, a demon comes and works out the terms. Then, the human has ten years to enjoy what they want,” he explained. His accent was just as thick as his mother's.
“What happens after ten years?” you asked, a bit quieter than before.
“Their soul is taken to hell,” he said plainly, “As per the contract. We never collect early. Always keeping our word.”
You furrowed your brow and looked away from him, sighing a little. You weren’t stupid. He meant that the person was killed after that ten-year mark, and you knew it. Then, you found your thoughts in disagreement. Part of you saw nothing wrong with demon deals, but the other part had a problem with it. 
“Are you hungry, sweetie?” Rowena cooed curiously, pulling you from your thoughts.
That was when you noticed how late it was, “Oh, uh… I should probably get back,” you mumbled, fidgeting with your fingers.
“We won’t hurt you,” she told you again softly, causing you to look up at her.
You couldn’t help but believe her. Neither of them had attempted to touch you the entire time, and they had done nothing other than talk. Even Crowley had stayed on his side of the couch. You were now completely confused about how to feel toward them and toward the brothers.
Before you could say anything, Crowley turned toward you, “Why not go back to the bunker. Get some rest,” he suggested fairly nicely and set a business card on the cushion between the two of you. “That’s my number. Just give me a call if you want to chat.”
When he pulled his hand away from the card, you reached over and gingerly picked it up and stared down at it, “I- I- I don’t know what to say,” you stammered quietly.
“It’s okay, love. Not everything supernatural is evil and out to hurt people,” Crowley told you in what sounded like a kind and caring tone.
“I’d like to go back,” you told them quietly.
You didn’t even have a chance to look up at the two of them before you were standing back in the bunker in the library, still holding onto the card. After shoving it in your pocket, you looked around, wondering where the brothers had gone.
----------------------------------------- Chapter 22
Tag List: @djs8891 @deans-spinster-witch
Link to the series Master List
A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, leave me a comment, and I'll make sure to tag you
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talesfrom1844 · 9 months
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BB Tribe Organization
Ok, so this is my first published (shared) piece of work. Hoping for some honest feedback on what you think AND if you'd want to read more about Beckett (original character) x Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes.
***
It was super late at night.  Beckett typically didn’t get worried or afraid of anything – definitely not of driving at night.  She didn’t fear getting lost.  Or ending up in a bad area.  She didn’t fear walking alone.  She had confidence in herself that didn’t allow for fear of being attacked and hurt by strangers. 
However, NOW, she had a bad feeling as she was driving home from a late-night shift.  The little hairs on her arms and neck stood up.  Her heart was beating a bit faster.  She didn’t feel comfortable stopping the car so red lights and stop signs had her on high alert. 
So, she called James.  When it went to voicemail, she hung up and tried again and again.
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“Beck, I’m on a job ...” He spoke low.
“James, I’m scared.” She was on the verge of tears. 
NEVER had Beckett Carrington been afraid.  Plus, she only called him James when she was serious. 
“Where are you?” he stood from his table without caring who saw him at this point.  He listened as he walked to his motorcycle.
“I’m driving home from my shift.  I just have this weird sense of someone hijacking me in my car.  It’s weird.  I don’t know.  I don’t want to stop at any lights or signs.  This feels crazy.” Beckett was rambling.
“Where are you?” he repeated as he arrived at his bike and was about ready to drive off.
“I’m not sure.  I turned a few times from my regular route trying to stay in a brighter area of town.  Track me.  I feel like I’m being followed.  This is Stupid!  I’m Beckett fucking Carrington.  I don’t get scared.”  She just kept rambling. 
“All right, I’ve got you on the tracking map. Head home, doll.  I’ll meet you there if I don’t find you first.  Keep talking.  Do not hang up.
“Buck, I don’t like this.” Beckett’s voice was noticeably shaken. 
Her voice was blue-toothed into his ear as she kept talking.  His phone was secured to the handlebars so he could see where she was.  He cut through alleyways and even hopped over a sidewalk to avoid a small traffic jam.  He sent a message to Steve knowing this wasn’t a small situation.  Steve was out of town, but he needed to know immediately. 
Beck kept rambling as he sped down the road.  He didn’t know what she was saying at this point.  She had begun to talk about when they were kids and how she was never afraid of anything or anyone.  He heard her words but wasn’t truly listening to what she was saying as he concentrated on getting to her. 
She was remembering when they first met.  She was ten and they were a year to two older.  She was born in and grew up in a small village in Wales.  Then, her parents moved back to the States during the summer when she turned ten.  She wasn’t quite prepared for the streets of a bigger city, but she had found her own way.  She was independent and stubborn.  She often would go out exploring on her own – going on adventures like she always had in Wales.  She wasn’t afraid to climb trees or walk across balance beams.  She didn’t fear being injured.  The day she met the boys, those boys who instantly became her two best friends, Stevie and Bucky, was a day she should have been afraid, but not once did she show fear. 
“Beck,” Bucky broke into her rambling.  “Don’t stop at the BB Building.  I see you’re close, but I’m not yet.  So, drive around three blocks.  Go down to Hart and then to Augustus and then come back up on Lee.” 
“Lee, I don’t want to drive on Lee.” She answered.  “That’s where …”
“Beckett – listen to me.  You must drive up Lee.  You have to drive past the bar.” 
“Fine,” she exhaled not wanting to argue while also completely trusting Bucky.
“Good, now listen carefully.  IF anyone follows you from the bar then I want you to drive to the place where you first cried in front of Steve and me instead of home.  I can see you’re almost there to turn onto Lee.  I’m at home with the garage door open.”
No one followed her.  She pulled into the garage next to Buck’s motorcycle.  He closed the door behind her immediately.  Beckett jumped out of her car and Bucky met her to hug her tight. 
“BB, my ass, what the fuck?” she hugged him tight shaking like he’d never experienced before. 
“You’ve always trusted your instincts, Beck.  Something didn’t feel right.  I’m glad you called instead of just ignoring it.” He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head.  “Now,” he backed her away from him a little, “are you okay?  Really?  I’ve never seen you like this.  In twenty years.” He grinned and tipped his head to the side.
“First, Barnes, I’m forever still in my mid-twenties!” She slapped his arm.  “Second, yeah, I think I’m okay.  I legit felt like someone was going to jump out at a stop light.” 
“I’m going to check your car,” he lifted his finger to his lips to indicate for her to remain quiet. 
Bucky checked the entire car for bugs, bombs, cameras, trackers, etc.  He didn’t find anything.  He threw his arm around her shoulder and guided her into the building which, on this floor, consisted mostly of “The Little Guys Gym & Boxing Club”.
“Hungry?” he asked once they were inside. 
“For your cooking?  Always.” She bumped into him to say thank you in a playful way.
“I want to do a sweep of the entire place,” he informed her as they walked up the stairs to the second floor.
“You don’t trust the tons of technology you two already have all over this place?” she questioned following him to the room that no one other than the three of them knew about.  “Where is Stevie-boy anyhow?”
“I’m right here.  And will you please stop calling me ‘Stevie-boy’?” Steve replied when Bucky opened the door.  “I was already here when you sent the message, Buck.  I did a full sweep and now I’m reviewing the footage for the last 12 hours.”
“Excellent.  So, I can focus on food while you do that.  Beck-Bunny, you go ahead and shower or whatever.”
“Barnes, stop with the ‘Bunny’.  I’m not that little girl anymore.”
“See!” Steve added.
“Fine, no more ‘Stevie-boy’.  I get it.  I’ll stop using ‘smalls’ too if you’ll help me get this arse to stop with ‘bunny’. How come you don’t have any embarrassing nicknames Buck?” she quirked.
“Cause I’m the coolest of us.  Always have been.  Biggest.  Strongest.  Smartest.  Best Looking. From day one of the BB.”
“Oh yeah, and so humble as well,”  Steve stood from the chair to follow them out of the office toward the third floor before he continued, “That’s why that guy picked your pockets.  Oh, and, let’s not forget … about how the runt of the litter saved your ass from being jumped at school in the 7th grade.”  Steve winked at Beckett.
“What?” Buck wasn’t following until he turned back and saw the smirk on Beck’s face.  “Ah, yeah, the runt saving me.  That was great!”
“It’s always good to use the element of surprise and” she shrugged, “sometimes it helps to use the ‘boohoo I’m a girl’ card.  It’s not my fault that Dwight didn’t see me coming.  Everyone else did.”
“You broke his arm and his nose,” Steve laughed. 
“I thought he’d move.  Who the hell doesn’t move out of the way of a bicycle coming straight at you?”
“He thought he could just stop the bike and you’d go flying off it.” Buck reminded. 
“Well, I did get scraped up a bit because I did fall off.  But not until after I rammed that bike right up his ass!!”
“Alright, alright.  I don’t care what you two do for the next half hour but get the hell outta my kitchen.” Buck removed his jacket and placed it over the stool back. 
Steve and Beckett decided to spar in the ring.  Beck needed to expel her leftover nervous energy.  Steve needed to make sure she truly was fine and back to herself.  Neither male had experienced Beckett having a moment of weakness.  NEVER. 
********************
Beckett’s father had left her the three-story building in his will with two stipulations.  Mr. Carrington left clear instructions that it could never be sold and that it was to be known as the B.B. Tribe Organization Building.  That way, the BB crew could have whatever companies they desired to branch out of the building under the BB umbrella company.  The building occupied the entire block.  Sure, it was a smaller block, but this building was everything to the three of them.  Mr. Carrington had known they would need to stay together but still would want to have some individual space and opportunities for change.
Plus, this is where the boys first met the spunky 10-year-old.  Beckett had been out exploring shortly after her family had finished moving in.  It was summer and she hadn’t made any friends, so she just went out looking for her own entertainment.  She entered the abandoned building out of curiosity about the rooftop.  It looked like there was a garden up there.  She was tiny so getting in wasn’t hard at all.  She was gutsy and undaunted by the mess of the dilapidated building.  She could see straight up to the roof from here including the balconies of the above two floors.  There were stairs off to the far left that went up to each new level including access to the rooftop door.   The staircase was broken but she jumped from broken step to step with a gap of 2 or 3 stairs missing.  Then when she got to the door to the ladder to the rooftop she had to cross a beam to reach it.  At the end of the beam, she had to jump to grab the ladder.  The reward was exceptional.  The garden was filled with wildflowers that took over the entire roof.  There was a gazabo in the middle with a large swing that was broken, but the moment Beck saw it she was determined to fix it up by the end of summer. 
She spent the next week carrying things down to the building in a wagon she’d found.  She found and brought all sorts of things that she needed to fix her path to the roof and then eventually the swing.  She ‘borrowed’ things from all over the place as she discovered them.  She had found the wagon in the shed behind her brownstone.  She also explored the other sheds along the walkway behind the brownstones. 
This is when Bucky first saw her.  He was taking out the trash for his ma who was harping on him about his chores.  He saw a small kid wearing overalls, a ball cap, and carrying a canvas bag just as they climbed over the fence back to the walkway alley.  He followed and watched the kid go into the building.  He was about to follow when the kid came back out and ran back up the street.  This time Bucky went to grab Steve to follow too.  Both followed the kid back to the building.  Steve commented on how the kid was covered in grease and dirt so he couldn’t tell if he had seen them before.  They waited to see if the kid would come out again.  When no one did, they went in.  Beck had created a larger hole by now to get things in and out, so it was easy for Steve and Buck to sneak in quietly behind.  They stood in the wide-open area just as Beckett hopped from step to step.  She scurried across the beam and out the door to the rooftop.  She’d already fixed that part.  Bucky had convinced Steve that they should follow.  Steve was petite himself, but he was just as determined as Bucky to find out what this kid was doing. 
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As they turned the corner, three older boys jumped them.  One held the smaller boy while another held the more talkative one.  The third one punched the talkative one in the stomach before reaching to take everything out of his victim's pockets.  Beckett didn’t even think.  She just ran up and hit the one holding the talkative one with a metal garbage-can lid.  Then she charged at the other one and knocked him over.  He took Steve with him, but the bully had taken the brunt of the fall.  The lead bully was yelling at the other two for letting a “small knucklehead” get the better of them before grabbing Beckett.  He pulled the cap off and her hair fell out of it.  Everyone was shocked to see a “cookie” (a cute girl) in overalls and a cap covered in grease and dirt fighting like a street kid.  The bully held her tighter and made a comment.  Steve and Bucky didn’t quite know what to do but Beckett did.  She stepped back into him and then flipped the large bully over her and then kicked him. 
Bucky instructed them all to run.  Beckett followed Bucky and Steve around the Brownstone and she called them back when they passed her house.  All three burst into her kitchen where her mom was beginning to cook dinner.  Mrs. Carrington looked at Beckett and the boys and shook her head.  Then she made a comment about being happy to see Beckett making friends.  Beckett explained what had just happened with the bullies.  Then the three of them introduced themselves to one another and Beck’s mom as she gave them cookies and milk.  From that day on they were inseparable. 
They spent every moment they could together – never fighting amongst themselves but always defending one another from anyone else.  Steve was the smallest and the biggest target.  Bucky was the troublemaker with the big mouth.  Beckett was average size for a girl two years younger than the boys.  She was just as problematic as Bucky but had a way of getting out of trouble by being cute and even flirty with adults or determined and stubborn and a bit flirty with her peers.  More than once she had finished what someone else had started with Steve or Bucky.  More than once, they had defended her when someone did or said something against her before she could learn it was said or done.  They were a unit that everyone came to know as the “Brownstone Brawlers” aka “The BBs”.  Mr. and Mrs. Carrington became the “doctors” of all their scrapes and bruises.  They also took care of the Rogers and the Barnes families as they all got sick and passed away.  All three kids lived in the Brownstone row on Lee Street, three blocks up from the building, for the next nine years.  The boys moved in with the Carrington family once they were “orphaned” until they finished school. 
Mr. Carrington had purchased the building shortly after he discovered why Beckett was spending so much time there.  He helped to fix it up and gifted her the rooftop garden as her project for as long as she wanted it regardless of who was using the building for their business.  It was in every contract that the rooftop was Beckett’s, and the basement was the Carrington’s, not part of the building that others rented to use.  It had been many things over the years – a factory where furniture was built, a garage for customization jobs, a medical equipment store, and for a short time a food pantry and resale shop run by her mother. 
Mr. and Mrs. Carrington plus Beckett, Steve, and Bucky all moved to the BB Building after Beck graduated high school.  They’d all been part of the remodel as the building became their new forever home.  Each had a say in things they’d like to have if they never left this home until the day they died.  Beck of course wanted to ensure the rooftop garden would remain.  Steve wanted a space to draw and be in silence when he needed that.  Bucky wanted a kitchen that he would enjoy.  He’d always enjoyed helping his ma and then Mrs. Carrington.  He was even working in a bakery after he’d graduated while waiting for Beckett’s graduation.  Mr. Carrington had promised the boys that he’d take care of them as his own as long as they didn’t move away and waited for Beckett to graduate. 
So, Buck and Steve helped plan the layout of the building to make it a home for them as well as keeping the main floor open to be a business of whatever sort they desired.  Everyone knew the entire building was to remain an option for Beckett and the boys for as long as they wanted it.  In the end, the third floor became the center and heart of their home consisting of kitchen, living, and bedroom spaces.  The second-floor housed offices and recreational spaces including initially a small exercise room for everyone but mainly Steve, who had begun to lift weights to strengthen himself under Mr. Carrington’s supervision of course.  The main floor was left wide open for Mrs. Carrington’s shop.  The basement was still their laboratory even though none of the “kids” knew what they were working on. 
Back then, that food pantry and resale shop was housed on the main level and was really a front for the real purpose of the building.  It was there in the basement where her parents had perfected their plan and performed their experiment, first on Beckett and then on Steve and Bucky.  Beckett had insisted that she go first and alone in case something went wrong.  It was her parents’ experiment so if it went wrong it had to be her.  She insisted.  Otherwise, she wouldn’t even ask the boys.  Both boys had no family left by this point other than one another and the Carrington family.  So, in Beckett’s mind, she needed to be the one to be first. 
The three of them had become ‘advanced’ by the age of 20-22.  They lived their lives as children, doing what children do, for 10 years as a trio.  Mr. Carrington had never expected to use the serum on his own daughter, but watching her fight for what was right even when she was tiny had helped develop the serum into what it became.  So, in the end, it was only natural that it became hers.  Mrs. Carrington had taken the boys in as her own as she watched them protect Beckett as much as Beck protected the boys.  There was a connection that they had that no one was quite able to explain.  After the serum was given to all three it was realized that they shared a specific gene that leads to fearlessness, valor, and the dynamism of being a leader. Additionally, it was discovered that they each had a unique strain of immunity to the plague that had recently taken so many lives including those of both boys’ entire families. 
********************
“Alright, you two!” Bucky called down from the Juliet Balcony on the third floor.  “Wash up.  Dinner’s about done.”
“Race you up!” Beck looked at Steve. 
Steve hopped over the ring ropes and landed on his feet.  The race was on.
Beckett was hot on his trail.  She jumped up skipping the turn of the stairs and scurried past him.  She was the smallest of them since the serum.  Ironically Steve was now the biggest leaving Bucky to be the middle.  The serum had enhanced their muscles and strength – brought them to the peak of their physical perfection.  It also focused on their best qualities making them all stronger, faster, smarter, able to endure inhuman amounts of punishment, quick healing abilities (thus why none of them can get drunk), increased senses, and age slower while also enhancing individual abilities as well. 
“And you wonder why Bucky won’t stop calling you ‘bunny’ when you hop around like that,” Steve called out.
“Silence!” she laughed at him. 
She beat him but only because he allowed it.  They all knew it.  The boys were happy to see the girl they expected and letting her beat him up the stairs was a small price to pay for that.  They washed up quickly and then met for dinner. 
Buck allowed them to get their plates and settle in before he started with the interrogation.  Beck sat as she typically did – right leg pulled up to her chest with her foot flat on the bar stool seat, left leg tucked Indian style, holding her plate with her left hand, eating with her right.  Steve sat next to her facing the counter.  Buck stood on the other side facing them.
“Where were you before you drove home?  When did you feel the whatever – hairs standing up?  What did you do all day?  Where did you go? Who did you see?” He shot out a ton of questions at her all at once.
“James,” she sighed.  “I’m good.  I’m okeydokey.”  She reached out to pat his hand.  “After all these years – you still don’t believe in me?” 
“YOU called ME, Bunny,” he reminded blowing her a kiss. 
“James,” Steve authoritatively hinted, “let’s do this without teasing.  So, Beck, he does have some good questions.  It’s not like you to be afraid of anything.”
“Fine,” she stabbed her green beans with a fork and rolled her eyes at them both. “Where would you like me to begin?  I woke at 4:45 am, took a shit, brushed my teeth, got dressed for my run, ran 5 miles, stopped at my boyfriend’s place for a quickie, and then came back to eat breakfast with Buck.”
“Jesus!” she sighed loudly.  “One, you’re an ass!  Two, I lied.  I broke up with Jake a week ago.”
“Now you’re lying to us!?!” Steve raised his voice. 
“Do you two even know what today is?” she asked putting down her plate.
“Sunday – Well technically Monday now,” Bucky answered literally.
“We all have photographic memories and you two don’t know that today is the anniversary of my parents' death?”
“Aw, shit. Beckett.” Both felt regret instantly as Bucky expressed in his reply.
“So, you went to …” Steve paused.
“Think.” she filled in. “I did run.  I ran to the bridge and sat there for a long time.”
They all remained quiet in their own thoughts. 
“I don’t care how long it’s been – I miss them.” She broke the silence.  “And I don’t know if I’m doing enough to honor them.”
The boys knew she wasn’t looking for them to fluff her up with compliments and assurances in response to her comment.  She had never wanted anyone to sugarcoat what was happening.  Her parents had created something special with their science and they had paid the price for not sharing it with certain people.  They had chosen the kids because they knew they wouldn’t abuse the gift of the enhancements.  However, no one had realized what would come with the serum. 
“Eighty years,” Steve spoke solemnly.  “I remember it like it was yesterday.”
“Me too,” Bucky’s entire tone changed.
“I know people know who we are and why we still look like we're in our 20s, but I still have days where I just wish I was that girl running around Brooklyn with my two pals and then we’d all go home to eat and read with my parents.” Beck reminisced.
“Do you want to,” Bucky paused, “get a recording of your dad reading?”  He shrugged.  “I miss that too.”
***
So what do you think of
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@theycallmebecca @thewintersoldier @1-800-jjbarnes @buckysdove @bucky-barnes-diaries-library @buckypinetrees @drabblewithfrannybarnes @royalsweetteaa @readingislife
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maybebecomingms · 6 months
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some things never change
November 9th, 2023
In the fall of 2006, I had a prolonged anxiety attack I define, for lack of a better term, as a nervous breakdown. I didn't go to school. I called in sick to work 20 minutes before my shift started once. I sat at home and cried and shook and couldn't do much else. I remember sitting at the table one day forcing myself to eat a handful of grapes. I'd lost 8 pounds that week because I was so freaked out, swallowing food felt like an impossible challenge much of the time.
It wasn't the first time. I missed a big chunk of 1st grade, and 6th grade, and 11th grade all the same way. The first two were chalked up to being a weird kid, and the third was blamed on a bad reaction to Ortho Tri-Cyclen. Which was fair - synthetic estrogen and I are not friends.
But this time there was no chemical influence, no obvious reason. I'd gone to the emergency room with chest pain. I saw a doctor with mixed results. I remember my dad calling said doctor, or maybe it was the pharmacy, on a Friday afternoon pleading with them while I vibrated on the couch like a dog during a thunderstorm: "she's suffering; you gotta do something for her."
A few weeks later, the worst of it had passed and I was mostly back to my life, a few emergency clonazepam in my purse if I started to feel that way again. I was on my way out the door for work about the same time my dad had gotten home and was settling into his spot at the table (he had a bad back and always sat in a hard chair at the table; never, ever on the couch).
"Hey, kid. I didn't know it was like that inside your head. I get it now. And you're back, and you're doing it. I'm really fucking proud of you."
It felt like the first time anyone had really seen me and understood me, and to this day it's the best example I can think of as far as a time when someone actually did.
I've been feeling this way again lately. Maybe not in such a severe way - I haven't been unable to leave my house. But I have been laying low, attempting to hide as much as possible.
I've been wishing someone would see it and understand it the way my dad did when I was a sophomore in college. I don't know that anyone will. And he's been gone for nearly 10 years.
This week I accepted a new job and also underwent three hours of testing in pursuit of an ADHD diagnosis. My brain is fried. I don't have it in me to do household tasks or make decisions. I just can't.
But maybe I'm on the path to seeing and understanding myself for what is really happening, and that would be alright too.
Nobody else can really, truly do that anyway.
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stimky-stencha · 9 months
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Stencha's Jedi Diaries- Day 5
Dear Diary,
It’s been an uneventful first week since my arrival in the new world. I still have yet to meet anyone face to face, but I have finally found a settlement. The locals call it “Ponyville” and are comprised of various ponies, unicorns, and pegasi. I believe I have found the source of my physical transformation. I think Dad really did just send me to a pony dimension. Whether this pony world would contain a Jedi or not is up to investigation.
Unfortunately, I don’t think visiting the town would be a good idea. I had to spray a predator attempting to hunt me down, and the spray got all over my tail. Even if I’m able to cloak the big white stripe on my tail, the rancid smell is more than enough to draw unwanted attention. But then again, they may also have food and shelter. And I’ve been running low on food for the past five days. My stomach’s been killing me after all. Should I go ahead and take the risk?
Unfortunately, after very careful consideration (my tail stinks way too much), I have decided against going into town for food. Guess I’m going back to foraging for berries and nuts and whatnot.
As Stencha finished writing the draft in her journal, she heard shuffling from outside the cave which caused her to jump. Somehow, two of the world’s locals have found her.
“Pew-WEEE!!! What in the world is that stink!?” One of the ponies cried out as she put a nose plug over her nose.
“I think we found our friendship problem,” The other pony said covering her muzzle with her hoof.
“Hello? Is anypony in there?” The second pony asked as Stencha looked out to the entrance of the cave to see the two ponies' silhouettes. One of the ponies, the one with the noseplug, was a little pink pony with a matching poofy mane while the other pony without it was a little white unicorn with a luscious indigo mane. They saw the desperate look on Stencha’s face when she saw them. She wanted to ask them for help, but she had no idea if she could trust them, or if they’d even say yes.
“Are you lost? How long have you been in this cave? Do you need any help with anything?” The unicorn asked. The two ponies, while obviously repulsed by the stink, pushed through to make sure Stencha was okay even though they had no idea who she was. After looking up and seeing the unicorn stretch out her hoof to help Stencha up, it’s clear she was in safe hands now.
UPDATE TO LOG: I have been saved by two kind and generous souls who gladly took me to their home in town. The ponies call themselves “Pinkie Pie” and “Rarity”, and were more than willing to help clean the stink up off of me and make sure none of the other ponies thought I stunk too much (Pinkie Pie did this crazy thing where she held onto the stink fumes on my tail like a balloon to make sure no one caught a whiff). I have and almost will always be self-conscious about my stink, so I always make sure to use it as a last resort. And considering my connection to the Force and my Dad’s lightsaber, I hope I never will have to.
Speaking of which, while I was cleaning myself up (They almost fell for the tomato juice myth before I was able to stop them), they noticed my Dad’s saber and asked about it. I didn’t want to tell them too much in case they were to snitch on me or something, but I did tell them it belonged to my dad, who sacrificed himself to save me. And I said I wanted to honor his sacrifice by training to become a Jedi. Though I thought I was in for it when I said the word “Jedi”. Their eyes and ears perked up in shock the moment I said I wished to be one. I thought they were gonna screw me over or something.
Thankfully, though, it was the exact opposite outcome. Rarity said that one of her best friends recently revealed herself as a Jedi and is willing to tell her about me, as well as let me live in her boutique. I simply need to find a way to pay her back for her generosity. Maybe if I asked for a job in her boutique? She looks like she could use a helping hand…er, hoof, I guess.
I’m getting ahead of myself here.
Anyway, I guess I’m living in the Carousel Boutique now, and I’m expected to meet my new Master in the coming days.
This is it. I’m finally gonna be a Jedi.
I won’t let you down, Dad. I promise!
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j-graysonlibrary · 7 months
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The Xiang Chronicles: Book One Chapter 1
Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book One
Author: Jay Grayson
Word Count: 83k
Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+
Available on: my website
Synopsis: Every few centuries a hero is born—one chosen by the God Tiandi to carry out his will in the mortal realm. The Xiang. Whether it is to quell a war instigated by the forces of shadow—of Shakti herself—or whether it is the miasma that poisons the world, the Xiang is born to bring the world back into balance.
Shu Pangu Min knows what his purpose is and he does his best to fulfill it even if he doesn’t fully understand all of the details. He must travel from city to city—lord to lord—to clear out the miasma. Along the way, he is to enlist the aid of four disciples. Each is to be of a different country and each must have high resonance and deep faith.
The holy men who raised him have great confidence in his future successes and they leave him to begin his journey on his own. But, can Pangu live up to the expectations of those around him? Can he really save the land like all other Xiang before him or will his unconventional methods doom them all?
Full Chapter 1 under the cut
Chapter I
As the sun set on a quaint, terra cotta home that sat on a Cliffside and overlooked the lake Fai, four old men approached the door. It was a humble house on the outskirts of town and easily fit the family—unless they grew considerably in the coming years, they could probably live there in peace, away from the woes of the world for their entire lives.
Min Sayama Jiao had moved into the home with her husband Shu Karto Bu and, about this same time, she bore a child. Sayama worked as a seamstress in town while Karto was a fisherman. They provided for themselves and intended to continue doing so for their children.
Their first child was a blessed son and the parents spent much of their time together dreaming and projecting his future. Would he be a fisherman like his father? Or would he find an apprenticeship in town and be even more successful than they could imagine? So long as he didn’t contract himself to the military, Sayama and Karto were more than happy about any possibility.
Their second child was a daughter. Still in the cradle, she required more care from Sayama than she was able to give and her job at Madame Jo’s fabrics was in the balance because of it. The fault wasn’t with the child who cried for her needs to be met but with her parents who were so accustomed to their low maintenance son that they truly lacked the skills for proper parenting.
Karto didn’t notice as much since he was so often at the lake or out at sea. He wasn’t made aware of the stark difference between the two children. Sayama, however, had known there was something special about her son since she gave birth to him.
She watched the boy stumble around on his short legs while she attempted to rock her daughter to sleep in her arms. Her son reached his hands up toward the wooden countertop in the kitchen where a bowl of freshly cut fruit had been prepared for a late night snack. Karto would be home soon from a long day of work so Sayama always had something for him to eat when he returned—even if it was just a bite or two before he crashed in his bed.
Her son, however, must have smelt the fruit and decided that it was for him. With his hands in the air, he pulled the fruit toward him without physically touching anything. Sayama watched while holding her baby, having seen this type of behavior before.
A few slices of plump pairyans floated down from the counter and into the boy’s hands. He took a bite and hummed happily before walking off in satisfaction.
It was for this reason that the four old men stood outside of the house to begin with. There was no strange coincidence that Shu Pangu Min had the abilities that he did but, unlike the boy’s mother, the four wise men knew why he was special.
The eldest and tallest of the men, Zhu, stood at the door and knocked boldly. He and his companions looked very similar at first glance as if they could be brothers but that could not be further from the truth. Each man was hundreds of years old and there were centuries between their ages. Zhu, for example, was over two thousand years old while the next oldest, Hwang, was one thousand and four hundred on the nose. Both had long hair and beards that indicated their age but their faces were the same as any old man in his golden years. Even the youngest of the bunch, at five hundred years old, Jun, looked like an eighty year old at best. The last of the four, Gong, looked the youngest only because his hair and beard did not grow as long as the others.
After the initial knock was ignored, Zhu tried once more. This time he really put some force behind it.
“Who is here at such an hour?” Sayama’s voice called out from inside her home but she refused to open the door.
Gong looked between the others and nodded. “We apologize—it is common courtesy to state one’s business after the sun begins to retire. My brothers and I are here to speak with you about your son and the path that Tiandi has set out for him.”
Jun looked at Gong as though he had lost his mind while Zhu and Hwang shook their head and chuckled respectively.
Slowly, the door creaked open. Sayama had placed her daughter in the cradle so that her hands were free. She looked up at the men with both worry and suspicion. “What would you know of my son, kind strangers?”
Hwang gently pushed himself to the front of the group. He smiled down at the woman and asked, “He was without a father, was he not? And before you learned of your impossible pregnancy did you not also have a dream about a man who looked very similar to who you now see before you?”
Sayama’s attention darted between them, unwillingly sticking to Hwang. Her dark green eyes swam with fear and confusion. She, in fact, did recognize him. Months before she was aware that she was carrying a child, she had a dream so vivid and lifelike that she often wondered whether or not it was a hazy memory instead. A man—who looked an awful lot like Hwang—took her into a meadow and they lay together for several hours.
“Was it not a dream…?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“It was both a dream and a reality within the realm of spirits. Such a conception is necessary for the Xiang,” Hwang answered her.
“The Xiang?” Sayama’s eyes widened. “You don’t truly mean…”
“You must have noticed the boy’s abilities,” Zhu interrupted, “He has been chosen by Tiandi. He must be trained to fulfill his purpose.”
Sayama shook her head and her loose, black hair fell into her face. At the same time, her daughter began to cry from further in her home. “No…” she pleaded, “You cannot take my son away…I have had barely any time with him.”
“You will still be allowed to see him,” Jun offered to ease her worries, “Once or twice a year he will come back to his home and be with his family. Breaks are important, even for one with the responsibility of the Xiang.”
The woman ran her sleeve under her eyes, catching the tears. “Can it not wait another year? He is so young, he can barely speak…”
“We will teach him everything he needs to know. The sooner, the better,” Zhu explained, “Plus, if he does not learn to channel his natural gifts then it could lead to disaster for you and your family. I’m sure you heard the stories of Xiang Don who accidently set his family’s farm ablaze?”
When Sayama looked down, Gong walked forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. “We take the Xiang at such an early age to ease the risk of heartache, not to be the cause of it. Please understand.”
“It has become tradition,” Hwang seconded and folded his arms into his sleeves, “And now, the time is dire more than any other. While you may not feel the effects here in your home, the miasma is growing thick in many places across the land. Shakti has, no doubt, already chosen her Chaaya to oppose us.”
Sayama shook her head and looked down. “Is it truly that terrible? Will there be wars and a plague like the legends suggest?”
“Prepare while you can,” Zhu told her, “Not everyone is gifted such a warning. But, for birthing our Xiang, you are trusted with this knowledge. A great evil will surface in twenty year’s time and you will be safest outside of large cities.”
“But my son will stop it?” She finally made eye contact with the men again. As downtrodden as she had been, a sliver of hope appeared attached to her words.
“The Xiang will save the world,” Zhu insisted.
And so Sayama handed her son to the men and watched as they walked off into the dark of night. Her husband would be confused—furious even—but Pangu was never theirs to keep. She understood that now.
The temple of Tian-Badou appeared to be no more than an abandoned ruin but the inside was large and full of the necessities for day to day life. The four heavenly men had stocked the place with food and water for their inevitable student as well as put together a room for him to stay.
Some of the amenities were already present from hundreds of years ago, the last time a Xiang was born in Enlil and had to be raised in the same ruins. A lot of updates needed to be implemented but that was nothing four minor gods couldn’t accomplish with ease.
Shu Pangu Min was still just a babe but he could talk some and he could understand what was said to him. He had the tan skin of his mother but his eyes were a brighter green color. His hair was black and thick with wayward strands already giving him trouble. Despite the sudden change of scenery and caretakers, Pangu went along with things quite easily. He barely ever cried and almost always had a smile on his face.
The four men had their work cut out for them but at least their current Xiang was cooperative. Training one from such a tender age was always a double edged sword but they were lucky this time. While they did have to dig deep and use their rusty parenting skills, they were also able to have more time with the child and teach him as much as they possibly could.
He picked up on skills quickly. Zhu and Hwang were in charge of helping him cultivate his natural resonance with the elements in the world. Pangu had already been manipulating the air and wind to get things that he wanted back in his home so he was better at wind than any other element at first.
It was expected since he was born in Enlil and the energy of that land was based in the power of wind. Similarly, those in Kyrie had a natural resonance with water; in Terra it was for earth; and in Agni—fire. There were more elements than those four and often they collided together or overlapped in many ways but the purest of energy that could be channeled was generally of one of those four.
No one could do what Pangu was capable of, however. While many people had high resonance with the energy around them, it would only assist in making them better at certain skills ranging from warfare to the arts—or it would be more passive, such as giving them an increase in luck.
 No, actually manipulating the energy and elements was an ability gifted directly by Tiandi. One had to be chosen for such a boon.
Hwang explained how the four of them and Pangu were different than humans while Zhu enforced his training. The two of them took on the more spiritual aspects of the Xiang’s training while Gong and Jun catered to his more human side.
While knowing and understanding his abilities was at the top of the priorities list, Pangu could not fall behind on studies or be ignorant of the world’s history. The Xiang was not a political figure but being completely unaware of current events would only hurt him in the long run. Gong focused more on history and religion while Jun taught the boy about culture and the differences between the countries and ruling territories.
And, as promised to Sayama, twice a year—once in the middle and once at the end—the four men would take Pangu back to his hometown and he would spend seven moons with his family. They had learned through past mistakes in raising Xiangs that complete isolation and withdrawal was bad for the human mind. With this method, Pangu could remain close to his family but also understand the importance of his training.
Zhu and Hwang readied an obstacle course to test Pangu on his agility and resonance with water while Gong and Jun had him prepare a meal with them. Gong multitasked and told the boy the story of Xiang Fa who was famous for one thing in particular.
“So Fa killed the last dragon?” Pangu asked as he stirred the pot of soup. He was entering the first stages of adolescence and had grown quite a lot in a short amount of time. There was still plenty of growing in his future but sometimes Gong would reminisce about the days when the boy was as tall as his knees.
“Not exactly,” he corrected, “This particular dragon was the reason that all the other dragons and other highly spiritual beings decided to stay locked away in the spirit realm.”
“So there are still dragons?” The boy perked up.
“Yes, but you cannot see them.” Gong smiled at the sudden plummet in his mood—it was almost comical. “Unless you go to the spirit realm which, in rare cases, can happen while you still live in your mortal form. Otherwise, you will see dragons after you die.”
“Oh…” Pangu continued to pout. It seemed he would likely not be crossing ‘seeing a dragon’ off of his mental to-do list.
“The miasma is too poisonous to highly spiritual beings. Even we were not aware of how terribly it could affect dragons until poor Jiang succumbed to the illness. It was no heroic feat or adventurous tale as it is told today, Pangu. The fight with Jiang on the mountain was heartbreaking. It was like killing a friend.”
“You helped Xiang Fa then?”
“They had to,” Jun added on, “the miasma was so thick in that cycle that all of Fa’s disciples had fallen from it. The other three were forced to come back and help Fa take on Jiang. It was not the victory that this world claims it was.”
“But you won against Shakti, right?” Pangu asked, wondering if there would be some good ending to this tale. “Tiandi won even if it was a struggle?”
“No, Pangu,” Gong said solemnly, “That was our biggest loss. Tiandi had to pull back all of the spirits from the mortal world and essentially lock them away for their own safety but it has caused an ever declining drop in faith for mankind. Without dragons and mighty Holy birds to remind them of their God, the people have begun to act as if they are the Gods of themselves. More wars have been fought in the past seven hundred years than in the two thousand previous ages. Shakti might not have overrun the world with miasma but she did pull humans closer to her side than they have ever been.”
The boy looked between Gong and Jun who both seemed quite crestfallen by this story. It was odd—especially for Jun who would not have even been there with Xiang Fa as he hadn’t ascended to divinity yet. Gong would have just joined and it seemed like Fa was the first Xiang he ever worked with. It must have been hard for him, Pangu decided.
“Is there anything I can do to restore the faith in Tiandi? Other than…what I am already to do?” Pangu moved the pot from the fire before reaching his hand over the flame and extinguishing it.
“You need to focus on cultivating your abilities,” Zhu said as he and Hwang joined them, “And then focus on removing the miasma when your journey begins.”
Pangu didn’t want to say that he wished he had more to do (mostly because he had said something similar before and was thoroughly scolded for it) but he did hope that there was something impactful that he could do in his time as Xiang. The last three Xiangs that had come about were all just miasma absorbing machines—none of them seemed to do anything spectacular in their time and Pangu worried he would end up like one of them.
Going from town to town, removing miasma and saving humanity from pestilence for another century or so. It wasn’t necessarily a bad job and it was clearly something that needed to happen but, especially after the story of Fa and Jiang, Pangu felt he needed to do more for them. For Tiandi.
After all, they predicted the miasma would be just as heavy and relentless as it was during Xiang Fa’s time so Pangu felt, deep down, he would have to pull off some extraordinary feat like the Xiangs of old.
***
On the border of Terra and Kyrie, a small village straddled the invisible line. Stone houses lined one side of the dirt road and wooden houses were on the other. Occasionally, soldiers from either country would pass by or come to patrol if there were any recent reports of suspicious activity.
A young boy with a mop of black hair and a dark tan drew in the dirt with his finger. His vibrant red eyes followed the trail he made in the ground. He recreated a cat he saw from his memory and, though the portrait left much to be desired, he was still happy with the outcome.
It certainly beat having to stay inside with his mother while she worked. Since it was the middle of the day, the boy didn’t worry about the woman dragging him into it since the village people already thought poorly of her. If they saw her take her son into her house with a strange man then someone was bound to call for the troops to investigate.
He always hoped it would happen. Throughout all the places they’d lived in, the boy had the highest hopes for this one. He’d always heard that people in Kyrie were more observant and friendly than those in Terra. He was forever waiting for the old woman at the tea house to see the way his mother looked at him and speak up.
But she just sat in her chair outside of her house with her tea and gave a look of silent disapproval instead. Sometimes he would just stare at her and hope that she could read his mind. He wasn’t great at articulating himself aloud but in his mind, words came to him as easy as breath.
It was one of the setbacks of how he was raised, he supposed. Talking was almost always prohibited in his house so he was awkward with his words but his heart ached for conversation. He would try and ease this pain by coming up with scenarios in his mind where he could talk to people. It worked only for so long and, any time he attempted to turn his fantasy to reality, he messed it up somehow.
The boy looked up from his dirt picture as the doors to the inn swung open and some drunken soldiers stumbled about. Only one from their group appeared to have his wits about him still and it might have been solely because he was too young to drink.
The men walked closer to him but he didn’t move, assuming that they would see him and walk around. He wasn’t exactly in the middle of the road or anything.
But the first soldier in line tripped on the boy’s boot and nearly fell over. “Hey, get yer ass outta here. Go play in the fields like a normal brat!” he yelled but continued to stagger away.
The boy pulled his legs in but still didn’t move and just waited for the group to pass. Only one man stayed behind. The young, sober solider. As the boy noticed the shadow falling over him, he looked up.
It wasn’t quite right to call the soldier a man as he was probably only four or so years older than himself. The legal age of conscript was fifteen across the land so it was possible this soldier joined as soon as he could. He was as tall as any grown man, however, but his face really gave him away.
The black, silky strands of his hair peeked out from under his helmet and his eyes were a deep blue like the ocean. He was far paler than the young boy but his complexion wasn’t uncommon for northern Kyrie where his armor suggested he was from.
“I’m sorry about my comrade,” the soldier said and kneeled down beside him, “He’s always a bit grumpy but the majority of the guys are good.”
“…S’okay,” the boy mumbled, unable to look at the other for too long. He felt strange when he stared at him—as if his heart was telling him to go with him.
“Hey, my name is Song Raine Sei. What’s your name?” Like his face, his voice was soft too.
“…Kira…” the boy answered, hoping he wouldn’t ask the dreaded follow up question that most did at this point. ‘No, what’s your full name?’
But he didn’t. “Do you like candy, Kira? One of the aunties at the inn gave me some because I’m so young but I am not really partial to sweets. I would hate to waste them.”
Kira nodded slightly. “I like candy. I don’t get to eat it much.”
“Strict parents?” Raine asked with a smile as he fished out the wrapped sweets from his satchel.
“Yeah, kind of,” he answered, unwilling to be truthful. As nice and calming as this older boy’s presence was, that didn’t make him trustworthy.
Raine handed over the candies and curled Kira’s fingers around them. “I know it sounds a little cliché but, in a few years, you can get away from your parents by joining the military. I grew up in an orphanage, craving freedom and change and now I’ve been all over Kyrie in just a year.”
Kira had considered the military before as a last resort but only if he survived that long and had nothing else to do. Now, if Raine was still enlisted when he became of age, the move would be more appealing. All he would have to do would be, lie to the Kyrie officials, say he was born there, and then maybe find Raine.
A smile spread across his lips and he nodded. “Will you help me out if I enlist?” Kira asked boldly.
To his delight, Raine returned his smile and agreed, “Of course.”
“Kira!” a woman’s yell interrupted their conversation. At about the same time, one of the other soldiers started to walk back toward them, also yelling, “Song Raine Sei!”
Both boys looked at each other with the understanding that they must part ways but for Kira, the feeling was a lot heavier. A man walked from his house and smirked as he passed him by while his mother glowered down at him with scorn.
In just a few years, he could leave this place, he told himself. With a final look back at the soldiers, he spotted Raine and felt a little better about the future.
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