#(I remember you listing all the languages you had mastered and planned to master in the near future)

[v6quewrlds]

THIS LOVE I HAVE FOR YOU, JUSTIN HERBERT.

pairing⠀⁎⠀justin herbert x high school sweetheart!reader. word count⠀⁎⠀9.4k.

summary⠀⁎⠀you've spent the last ten years of your life supporting, adoring, loving justin herbert. for ten years that was all you needed: loving justin. until a night out with colleagues strikes you with the realization that loving justin has come at the expense of choosing almost anything else.

author's note⠀⁎⠀did a ridiculous amount of reddit forum research on finance + private equity for about three sentences. loved writing this one! potential au/series <3 warnings⠀⁎⠀3rd person (she/her), angst, language maybe?, one usage of y/n.

When you're sixteen years old, you think you know everything. You're in the throes of adolescence, your whole life ahead of you, and you're certain that the person you're with now is the one you're going to be with forever. You make promises in the hallways of your high school, whisper plans that your teenage brain isn't fully capable of understanding the sheer magnitude of into the phone, and organize every waking breath around the desperation to be together.

She had been that girl. Obsessing over emoji choices, angling her selfies just right, and idly writing his name in the margins of her notebooks in swirled cursive. Justin, Justin, Justin; she painted her entire world in shades of him.

For ten years, those shades of Justin, all things Justin, had been her entire life.

College was a learning curve for them both, but they managed to make it work. Justin's football scholarship had taken him just a few miles from home, and she had followed. She chose a safer, albeit more difficult major, finance, which kept her mind occupied while Justin's star on the football field grew brighter. Weekends were spent at his games, cheering him on as he threw touchdown after touchdown, her heart swelling with pride. Weekdays were spent in the library, her nose buried in textbooks and assignments, the fizz of energy drinks and the hum of her beat-up, noisy laptop her only companions.

Reaching the second semester of their senior year offered only a week of respite before Justin was thrown in the world of NFL Scouting. Her own dreams of graduate studies and a career in private equity felt like whispers in the shadow of his burgeoning football career. The conversations grew shorter, the dates grew less frequent, and the shared glances grew colder. Yet, they held on, promising each other that once he was drafted, once he had a team, once he had a season under his belt, things would go back to normal. But "normal" remained a mirage on the horizon, a concept that grew more and more distant with each passing day.

The only point of "normal" in their lives was her commitment to being exactly what Justin needed. She'd put aside her own aspirations to support him, to be the rock he leaned on. She'd given up on the idea of going to graduate school across the country on the east coast, accepting the offer of USC's more expensive Master of Science in Finance program to be close to him, to be his source of "normal" so far from home.

Paradoxically, his star power had awarded her praise and made her invisible at the same time. Everyone knew her as "Justin Herbert's girlfriend," the one who'd been with him since high school, who'd stuck by his side through it all.

She still remembered the way she had been praised online for a week after his draft night. When his name was called, 6th overall, he rose to embrace his parents first, his brothers, then her, a gesture that had been captured by cameras and splashed across the internet. "The girlfriend who said no to a full ride for love," the headlines had read. They raved about her dress, her smile, her poise. How she never hogged the spotlight, never took the shine away from him.

Their parents had always been thrilled, beaming with joy at the thought of their star-crossed love story. Holly had a running list of gorgeous wedding venues, while her father had mentally started envisioning the father-daughter dance. But as the years went by, and the seasons changed from football to weddings, she kept wondering when it would be their turn.

"Soon", was always Justin's promise. "Soon that'll be us. Signing marriage certificates, sharing a first dance, honeymooning in Hawaii". But soon had become a taunt in her mind. The season had a way of swallowing up time, leaving her with crumbs of attention and a mountain of empty promises. Her own life had become a series of "not yet"s and "just wait"s. And she had, she had waited.

She waited so long that she no longer had to carefully construct a hopeful response when their friends and family spoke about their future together. She waited so long that the question of "when are you two tying the knot?" had become a greeting rather than a curious inquiry. She waited so long that Justin's non-reaction to her hints about marriage had turned into a hope that by just ignoring it, it would come sooner.

All of these realizations had floated near her consciousness, just out of reach with the constant buzz of Justin's schedule. But during a night out with her coworkers, it had all crystallized.

She wanted to go to Johannesburg. It was possibly her most defining characteristic aside from who her boyfriend was, a desire that had been with her since she was a child, sparked by a documentary she had watched with her mother. She'd always dreamed of seeing the wildlife, the vibrant culture, and the stark beauty of the city she'd seen in the footage. So when another third-year associate, Noel, asked why she had never gone, she blanked.

The truth was, she had never left the country. Not once. Justin had never shown an interest in traveling, always citing his discomfort with flying private or his need to unwind at home, in Oregon, after the season. So, she never got a passport, hoping her lack of documentation would keep her from even looking at potential flights. But tonight, she finally had to admit to someone else what she had been too afraid to admit to herself. "Justin's schedule keeps us pretty busy," she'd murmured, her voice barely carrying over the chatter of the bar. "We haven't had the chance."

The silence that followed her confession to Noel was deafening. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, leaving her chest tight and her eyes stinging. So the conversation moved on, but the weight of her truth remained, a leaden presence in her chest.

Lightheartedly, the conversation eventually moved to relationships - or the group's general lack thereof. Not her. When Jordan casually asked how long she had been with Justin, she felt like a spotlight was shone on her. "Ten years," she replied, her voice a mix of pride and something else. Something that didn't quite fit with the expression on her face.

The group's collective gasp was a mix of awe and sympathy. "Ten years?" Folake questioned, a hint of pity in her voice. "And you've never been with anyone else? That's… intense, girl. You're only 26."

Her cheeks warmed with a rush of embarrassment she hadn't felt since high school. She took a sip of her drink, trying to swallow the discomfort. "It's not like that," she protested, her voice small. But the words felt hollow, even to her own ears. "We're good together. I've known him forever." She lifted her drink to her lips again, adding a monotone "literally" for good measure.

Her coworkers nodded politely, but their expressions remained skeptical. They were all young and eager, exploring the world beyond their cubicles, and she suddenly felt ancient and untouched by the world beyond her relationship. The realization grew sharper with each nod, each kind but knowing smile.

Her mind raced as she headed home that night, her thoughts swirling like a tornado of doubt and regret. While she had spent her college years tied to the sidelines, her peers had traveled the world, stayed out all night, and experienced the thrill of one night stands and heartbreaks. They had grown into their own people, shaped by the people they'd loved - and grown to hate. They'd learned from their mistakes, grown stronger, and had stories to tell. But her? All she had was Justin. For ten years, Justin was enough. But now, with the starkness of her own stagnation laid bare, she was no longer sure if it was enough.

The floorboards creaked under her feet as she entered the living room, the house eerily quiet without the usual background noise of Justin's video games or his humming of some Yacht Rock hit under his breath. She inhaled deeply, smelling the lingering scent of his meal prepped dinner - something packed with protein and greens, a meal she had learned to cook because it was what he needed.

She tiptoed into their bedroom, her eyes immediately picking up on his sleeping form despite the darkness. The TV was off, remote discarded haphazardly on the bedside table. She took a moment to simply look at him, the man who had been her entire world for so long. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and she felt the tug of something deep within her, a strange cocktail of fear rising in her throat.

As if symbolic of that fear, she could feel her drinks come up, threatening to spill the truth along with their contents. She swallowed hard, gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. She tried to ease her breathing, the quiet of the night seeming to amplify every little sound.

Then the sheets rustled, and Justin's eyes blinked open. "Babe?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "When did you get back?"

"Just now," she replied, her voice wavering slightly. She stared at the floor, avoiding his gaze. Swallowing thickly, she added, "Go to sleep, J. I'll come to bed in a minute."

Justin exhaled deeply through his nose, nodding without protest and closing his eyes again. She chewed her bottom lip nervously, burying her face in her hands. How could she explain that she was breaking down because she had never truly lived? Because she had given up so much of herself for him that she didn't know who she was anymore?

She loved him. She swore she did. But as she stared at the ceiling, listening to his even breaths, she couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. The house, once filled with the warmth of their laughter and shared dreams, now felt like a museum of memories rather than a living space. Each room was a shrine to a past she wasn't sure she wanted anymore.

"So, Saturday morning, Pat's gonna come over to help me with that entertainment center," Justin announced casually at breakfast the next day, his eyes on his phone. She stared at the cereal in her bowl, her spoon hovering above the surface.

"Okay," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't look up from his phone. "It's been sitting there for like a year, might as well get it done since I have some time."

She nodded, her mind racing. Time. That's what it boiled down to. Time for him to build his man cave, and no time for her desires to travel. The cereal in her bowl had gone soggy, the taste of the milk turning unappetizing in her mouth. "Hey," she started softly, unsure. "Can we… talk about something?"

Justin looked up, his eyes scanning her face, looking for a clue to her mood. "Yeah, sure," he said, setting his phone aside. "What's up?"

She took a deep breath, her heart racing. "Do you ever wish you had explored other options in college?" she asked, her voice quivering.

Justin blinked, once, twice, the question seemingly catching him off guard. He paused, tilting his head as he considered his response. "What do you mean, like majoring in something else?"

"No, I mean… with us," she clarified, her voice growing stronger. "Do you ever think about what it would have been like to date other people?"

Justin balked at that, as if immediately rejecting the idea. "What other options?" he asked, his tone one of genuine confusion. "I had you."

The simplicity of his response hit her like a sledgehammer. He had never doubted them, never questioned their destiny to be together. He had never felt the need to explore other relationships because he had her. But she was doubting, she was questioning, and it was tearing her apart.

"I know, but…" she said, pushing her cereal bowl away with a frustrated huff.

Justin's eyes tracked her movements, a frown furrowing his brow. "But what? Why would I need anyone else when I have you?" He reached out, placing a gentle hand on her arm. The warmth of his touch was familiar, almost comforting. Almost.

She looked at her hand, feeling the weight of the promise ring on her finger. "Because maybe we've been too comfortable," she murmured. "We've been together since we were sixteen. We've never really lived apart from each other, never experienced other relationships, other people."

"Babe," he began, his voice low. "Are you being serious right now?"

Her throat tightened as she met his gaze. "Yes," she whispered. "I just… I think we need to take some time apart."

Justin's hand retreated from her arm like it had been scalded. He sat back in his chair, the color draining from his face. "What?"

"I know this isn't what you want to hear," she started, her voice shaking, "but I think my entire identity has been wrapped up in being your girlfriend for so long that I don't know who I am without you." She watched as Justin's eyes searched hers, desperation and confusion swirling in his gaze. "I don't know if this is what I want anymore."

Justin's jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white as he clasped his hands together. "Are you breaking up with me?" the words spilled out. "Did I do something?"

She hesitated, her heart aching as she watched the shock wash over Justin's face. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so lost. "I don't…" she trailed off, averting his gaze. "I just think we need some space to figure out what we want."

His hands unclenched and he sighed, the sound heavy with disappointment. "Okay," Justin said finally, his voice barely a murmur. "I guess if that's what you think you need." He drew in a slow breath, closing his eyes and pinching at the bridge of his nose, as if trying to hold back his emotions.

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched him process her words. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's just…"

"It's fine," Justin said, his own voice tight. "We can take a break or whatever. I don't care."

But it wasn't fine. Not for either of them. The air in the room had thickened, their shared history hanging heavily around them like an invisible shroud. She felt like she was drowning in the weight of the words she had just spoken.

"Justin," she began, her voice cracking, "I'm sorry. It's just…" But she couldn't find the words to explain the maelstrom of emotions inside her. She felt guilty for her doubts, for the years of sacrifice she had made, for the future she was now unsure of.

Justin's eyes searched hers, his face a canvas of pain. "You don't have to justify it to me," he said. "I just don't know how we're gonna explain this to everyone else."

It was wedding season. A lineup of white dresses and happy couples with months-old RSVPs that now felt like a cruel joke. The thought of attempting to explain to her family and friends, to the brides and grooms who had eagerly invited them, was nauseating. So they agreed, not to lie, but to omit. They would still attend the weddings, dance, laugh, take photos, and play the part of the happy sweethearts.

The first wedding they had to face was a family friend of hers, someone she had known since childhood. The ceremony was held in a picturesque garden, the flowers in full bloom and the air filled with the sweet scent of roses and the distant chatter of guests. Justin looked dashing in his baby-blue button-up and dress pants. His skin glowed under the soft sunlight, and a pair of black sunglasses hung casually on his collar.

Her yellow bridesmaid's dress, her fourth in five years, hugged her body in a way that highlighted her figure. The fabric whispered against her skin as she walked down the aisle, her eyes focused on the altar. She felt Justin's gaze on her, the weight of his stare heavier than any bouquet. She didn't dare look at him, afraid that if she looked at him, she'd shatter the illusion or crumble on the spot.

The wedding was a blur of forced smiles and small talk. Every time her thoughts drifted to their impending breakup, she'd be yanked back to reality by a well-meaning auntie or uncle asking when it would be their turn. She would laugh politely, playing along, while the ache in her chest grew sharper with each passing minute. Justin, ever the charmer, fielded questions with his media-trained ease, but she could see the sadness lurking beneath his surface, a numbness that kept the creases from reaching his eyes when he smiled.

His familiar way of reaching out for her burned. The habitual hand splayed on the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd, the casual kiss on her forehead as he left her side to refill their drinks. It was second nature, and she hated herself for craving it even as she knew she needed to break away.

"You ready to go?" Justin's voice broke through her thoughts as the reception began to wind down, the newlyweds having made their grand exit. She nodded, clearing her throat and forcing a smile. "Yeah, let's get out of here."

They left the party hand in hand, a silent agreement to keep up appearances, but the second they were out in the open air, she let go. They walked the two blocks to their rented hotel room in complete silence. The room, much like their RSVPs, had been booked, for a couple, nearly a year in advance. A king-sized bed with crisp, white linens taunted her from the center of the room.

"I can call the front desk," Justin offered, his voice strained. "See if they have a single room available."

Her gaze remained on the bed, her heart racing at the thought of sleeping in the same room with him. She took a deep breath, willing her voice to be steady. "No, it's okay. It's just one night." She turned to him. "We've shared a bed for years. What's one more?"

Justin's eyes searched hers, his expression a mix of hope and despair. He began to say her name, breathing every syllable out as if it were heavy on his tongue, but she stopped him with a shake of her head.

"Justin," she said firmly. "I'm the one who put us in this situation. It's my fault. I don't want to cause any more trouble than I already have." She pasted on a smile that she hoped was convincing. "Let's just get through the night. I know you're exhausted."

He nodded, his throat bobbing with the effort of swallowing his emotions, all the thoughts passing through his mind dying on the tip of his tongue. She felt a heavy weight settle on her shoulders as she approached the bed. She slid under the covers, turning her back to his side of the bed, willing sleep to come and relieve her of the turmoil in her heart.

She was fast asleep by the time Justin finished his shower. The room was dark, the only light coming from the gap of the curtains allowing the city lights to leek into the room. Her rhythmic breathing filled the space, a sound that had once been comforting but now almost felt like a countdown. He slid into the bed with as much grace as he could muster, his movements calculated not to wake her. But as the mattress shifted, she rolled towards him, her head coming to rest on his chest.

Her skin was pebbled with goosebumps from the cold, her breaths shallow and quick. She was still asleep, her search for his warmth unconscious. He could feel the heat of her cheek against his bare chest, the softness of her skin against his. He wanted to turn the other way, to maintain the space they had agreed upon, but he knew her too well.

She didn't sleep well when she was cold, and the chill in the room had always been the perfect excuse for their cuddling. Realistically, he could call down to the front desk, request a blanket, and she would sleep well enough, but he didn't want to. He didn't want to give up this moment of closeness, of normalcy. So he lay there, feeling his chest rise and fall with each of her breaths, feeling her warmth spread through him like a warm blanket. For just one more night, he could pretend that she hadn't broken his heart. That she didn't want something that wasn't him.

He knew he should move her, give them both the space they needed to begin the process of breaking, but he couldn't. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her, pulled her closer, and kissed her forehead, her skin smelling faintly of the floral perfume she'd worn to the wedding. For a brief moment, everything felt as it had before their conversation—right, complete, as if their hearts were beating in sync.

The next wedding was for a college friend of theirs. It was an elegant affair at a historic mansion. High ceilings and chandeliers reflected in the polished floors, creating a dazzling display that managed to distract the other guests from the fact that she and Justin had kept to separate sides of the venue.

Justin had been avoiding her gaze all night, his heart hammering in his chest every time he caught a glimpse of her in her floor-length gown that brought out the warmth of her eyes and the radiance of her brown skin. He watched her mingle from the other side of the room, a chilled beer in his hand, his smile plastic as he talked with friends he hadn't seen in months, others in years. They all asked the same questions, the same "What's the mood in the locker room?" or "How do the new guys look?" and dreadfully, "When are you gonna be sending out your own invitations?" His answers were rehearsed, delivered with the same charm that had won over so many, but for some reason had pushed her away.

"Yo, Herbo!" A deep, jovial voice boomed across the reception hall, cutting through the chatter and the clinking of champagne flutes. Justin looked up to see one of his old college buddies, Jeremiah, striding towards him with a beer in hand. Jeremiah Wells was a towering presence, with a smile that could ease the pants off a snake. "How's the off-season treating you?"

Justin managed a smile, his eyes darting to her across the room, who was deep in conversation with two of her old college friends. "It's… yeah, it's been good, Wells."

Jeremiah slapped him on the back, bringing him in for a hug. "It's good to see you, man. And Y/N too, of course." Justin nodded, his heart twisting at the mention of her name. "But where is she?" Jeremiah scanned the room, his gaze finally landing on her. "Oh, there she is."

Justin's ears perked up at that. For all of Jeremiah's easygoing nature, he had always had a keen eye for the truth. He had a high level of intuition, a trait that made him an excellent day trader, and it was clear that he sensed something was amiss with her and Justin. "Is everything okay with you two?" he asked, his smile still in place but his eyes searching.

Justin took a sip of his beer, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. "We're fine. You know, life gets busy. Shit happens." He hoped the steadiness in his voice would be enough to throw Jeremiah off, but the way his friend's eyes searched his told him it wasn't.

"Come on, man. You can tell me," Jeremiah urged, leaning in closer. "If you guys are going through something, maybe I can help. Give you a different perspective?" He nudged Justin gently, his expression earnest.

Justin felt the pressure building behind his eyes, the strength in his posture threatening to crack. He took a deep breath, trying to keep the emotions at bay. "Jere," he began, his voice gruff. "It's not that simple."

"Try me. I swear on my life," Jeremiah said, his voice low and serious. "If you just need to vent, I got you, man. Whatever's going on, you know you can trust me."

Gray-green eyes flickered over to her. She was laughing at something one of her friends had said, and for a moment, Justin felt a pang of jealousy. He remembered making her laugh like that, the way her eyes crinkled at the sides and her mouth stretched wide, revealing that familiar row of teeth. He missed it. He missed her.

He didn't know how he was supposed to let that go.

"We're taking a break. Or breaking up? I don't—" he shook his head, cutting himself off. "I don't know what we're doing."

Jeremiah's smile faded, his eyes searched Justin's. "For real?"

Justin nodded, the motion almost imperceptible. "Yeah," he said, his voice thick with unshed tears. "For real."

Jeremiah's expression grew serious. "Shit, man, I had no idea." He took a step closer, his hand resting on Justin's shoulder. "But I'm guessing that was kind of the point? Not letting anyone know?"

Justin nodded again, his throat tight with the effort of keeping his emotions in check. "Yeah. She came home one night and said she needed to find herself and explore her options. Said she didn't know if this was really what she wanted." His voice cracked on the last word, and he took a deep, shaky breath. "We've got one more wedding to get through before we start telling anyone."

Jeremiah's gaze remained on him, filled with concern. "Justin," he said, his voice gentle. "Is that what you want? To 'explore other options'?"

Justin took a long pull from his beer, the cool liquid doing little to ease the burning in his chest. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I love her. And if that's what she needs, I'll do it."

If the way Jeremiah's lips pressed into a thin line told Justin anything, it was that his friend wasn't buying the act. "I didn't ask what you thought she needed," Jeremiah said, his eyes unwavering. "I asked if that was what you want."

Justin took a moment to consider the question. The truth was, he didn't know what he wanted anymore. All he knew was that the thought of her with someone else was like a knife twisting in his gut. "I just don't want to lose her," he said finally. "But if this is what it takes for her to be happy, then I guess I'll have to figure it out."

That wasn't it either. Jeremiah laughed, a low, knowing sound. "So I guess the answer to my question is 'no'?" A dark eyebrow quirked up. "If you don't want this to be the end, you gotta tell her, Justin. You can't just sit back and hope she reads your mind. If she's feeling lost, you've got to be the one to help her find her way back."

Justin stared into his beer, the condensation on the amber bottle pooling down the side, creating a wet ring around the bottom. "What if she doesn't want to come back to me?" he murmured, the words barely audible over the music.

Jeremiah's grip on his shoulder tightened. "Then you fight for her, man. You don't let the girl that you love just walk away without showing her what she's really giving up." His voice was firm, filled with the kind of conviction that only came from personal experience. "But you've got to be honest with her. If you keep playing this game of pretend, you're just going to end up hurt. Both of you."

Justin nodded, the words resonating deep within him. He knew Jeremiah was right, but the fear of rejection was paralyzing. What if she truly didn't see a future with him? What if he was the reason she felt so stifled? The mere thought of it was enough to make his heart ache. He took a deep breath, nodding with pursed lips. "Thanks, Jere," he said, his voice hoarse. "I'll think about it."

They stood there for a moment longer, the music and laughter of the wedding party a stark contrast to the gravity of their conversation. Then, with a final pat on the back, Jeremiah excused himself, leaving Justin alone with his thoughts.

He couldn't help but watch her across the room, the way she moved, the way she talked, the way her eyes sparkled with life. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time in years, really seeing her, and the pain of knowing he could lose her was unbearable.

He shifted his weight, leaning his back against the bar to get a good look at her. From across the room he was reminded of the first time he realized he was in love with her, before he could fully articulate all the intricate little meanings of love. It was at his Senior Night, after the final football game of his high school career. He had been surrounded by the cheers of victory, the smell of the field still in his nostrils, but it was her, with her smile and those damn beautiful eyes, that mattered most.

It took an entire PowerPoint to convince her to walk with him on the field. She was worried about taking the moment away from his parents and friends, but he insisted that she was just as much a part of his moment as anyone else. So, she'd walked with him, reluctantly, but with him nonetheless. He remembered the fro-yo date afterward, the way she'd laughed to the point of snorting when he'd accidentally spilled a spoonful of sugary ingredients all over the floor. He remembered her dragging him to the bathroom to retrieve a handful of paper towels to escape the glare of the unamused teenager behind the check-out counter. He remembered the way her eyes had shone when he'd told her that he'd follow her anywhere—even to the ends of the earth, if that's where her dreams led.

And here he was, a decade later, wondering if he had ever truly followed her anywhere at all. The realization was a slap in the face. He had been so focused on his own dreams, his own ambition, that he had failed to support hers. He had been so caught up in following his dreams that he wasn't sure if she was living out hers.

It was then that her point became clear. The weddings were a microcosm of their life together—beautiful, expected, but ultimately not hers. Just like her dreams, just like her life.

Finding a realtor had been surprisingly easy. She had a great job, an excellent credit score, and a clear idea of what she wanted. A one, or two-bedroom apartment with a decent view, a reasonable commute to work, and a park within walking distance. The real estate agent, a bubbly woman in her mid-20s named Esme, had shown her half a dozen options before she finally found the one. It was a cute, modern space with an open-plan living room and kitchen, and a balcony that looked out over the city lights. It checked every box and added a few more she hadn't realized she had.

"I think we like this one!" Esme announced in that sing-songy tone of hers. She shoulders wiggled in a little dance as she bounced over to her.

She nodded, her eyes scanning the space. It was a nice place, no doubt about it. The white walls contrasted nicely against the dark hardwood floors, giving the room a clean, spacious feel. The kitchen was on the smaller side but functional, with a sleek fridge and a gas stove that called to her inner chef. The living room held a plush couch and a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that seemed to whisper promises of quiet nights and good reads.

But there was something missing. As she wandered from room to room, her excitement was tainted by the ghost of what once was. Justin would hate an apartment like this. He had always talked about a house with a big backyard and enough space so they could host barbecues and watch the sunset. She could practically hear his grumbled complaints in her ear. Not too loud that the realtor would be able to hear. No, he was always much too polite for that. He would grumble just for her with a pout that was so cute it made her want to laugh, even when she disagreed with him.

They had talked about their dream house so many times over the years. It had grown and evolved as they had, but it had always been a shared vision. Now, as she pictured herself living here alone, the vision felt like it was slowly slipping away.

"I do like it," she smiled weakly at Esme, who was watching her expectantly. "I… I think we can move forward with this one."

Esme clapped her hands together with a cheerful smile. "Perfect! We'll get the paperwork started right away. It's a popular building, so you're lucky to have snagged it." She began to gather her brochures and keys. "I've had a few clients wait just a little too long and miss out. But with your income and credit score, you should be good to go!"

She nodded, trying to keep the smile plastered on her face as she thought about the last time she had moved, the excitement of moving into her home with Justin after college. How they had toured homes in South Bay, looking for the perfect place to start their life together. Now, that perfect place with the marble counters she chose and the custom pool tiling Justin picked out was drifting farther out of her reach.

"Thank you," she said to the realtor as they exited the multi-storied, sleek apartment building, her voice a mere echo of its usual self. "I'll try to give you the green light as soon as I can."

Esme nodded understandingly. "Take your time! This is a big step. But I'm here to help." With a cheery wave, she left her side to find her car.

She stood on the sidewalk, the evening air thick with the scent of blooming jasmine and the distant sound of a laughing child playing in the nearby park. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks: this was it. This was her new life. No more sprawling suburban mansion with Justin's elastic headbands scattered on every surface possible, no more weekends spent hosting pool parties for their friends. She took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to spill over.

With a click to her remote control, the driver's side door of her sedan opened. Her hand trembled around the handle as she slid into the driver's seat, the leather cool against her skin. The door shut with a solid thunk, and she sat there, the sun beating down on the car through the window. Her eyes stunk, her breath hitched, and the tears she had been holding back for weeks finally fell.

Her chest heaved with the weight of her sobs, the keys still clutched in her hand, the metal digging into her palms. Her tears fell hot and thick on her cheeks, mixing with her makeup and leaving a salty taste on her lips. She didn't bother to wipe them away, letting them flow freely like the emotions that were tearing her apart. The dashboard of her car was the only witness to her pain, the only place she could let herself break down without fear of judgment or pity.

It was a painful, aching cry that seemed to come from the very marrow of her bones. The kind of cry that left her feeling both raw and exhausted. The kind of cry she hadn't had since her grandmother passed away. As her tears fell, she struggled to catch her breath, her heart feeling like it was being squeezed in a tight grip.

There was no relief in her sobs, no catharsis in the release of pent-up emotions. The reality of their impending breakup was sinking in, and she felt like she was drowning. She had never felt so alone. Despite the years they had spent together, it was as if she was just beginning to understand the depth of her sacrifice. She had been a silent cheerleader, a supportive girlfriend, but in the grand scheme of her life, she had willingly taken a back seat. And now, as she faced the prospect of starting over, she wondered if she was even making the right choice.

They had one wedding left. One last day to play the happy couple before they would finally, truly, be apart. In forty-eight short hours, the last ten years of her life would be over.

Yet, she couldn't bring herself to tell anyone.

The next wedding, a breezy ceremony down by the beach, was the last hurdle before their charade ended. The sun was warm on her skin as she stood in her bridesmaid's dress, a soft blush pink that matched the setting sun. A solid, white platform supported the couple and the wedding party as they exchanged vows, the ocean waves playing a soothing melody in the background.

Justin stood on the other side, his groomsmen's tuxedo fitting him like a glove, the light playing with the strands of his dirty blonde hair. It was a miracle he wasn't shifting uncomfortably in his suit, considering the heat of the late afternoon sun. She took a deep breath, trying to focus on the words of the bride and groom. The gel inserts in her heels were doing wonders for her soles, but she felt anything but grounded. She felt like she was floating, detached from her body, watching the scene unfold like a movie she was supposed to be experiencing first hand.

The ceremony seemed to fly by in a blur, and before she knew it, the officiant was prompting the bride and groom to repeat their vows. She glanced at Justin to find his eyes already focused on her. His hands were clasped tightly together, as if attempting to hold onto something unseen, his expression was one of quiet desperation. The love in his gaze was palpable, and it took every ounce of her willpower not to crumble on the spot.

"I, Alannah, take you, Tai, to be my lawfully wedded husband," the bride's sweet voice filled the air, and she felt the tension in her chest tighten.

"To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part," the bride continued, her voice strong and clear.

Confident.

Sure.

She felt the words hit her like a wave. Tears pricked at her eyes, the very same affect reflected on Justin's face. She knew he was thinking about their own future, or lack thereof.

When the groom spoke up to echo the vows, Justin broke. He had to look away from her, his eyes stinging with a pool of tears. The weddings had been torturous, but none more so than this one. They had always talked about their future, what their wedding would be like, the vows they would write for each other. It was cruel irony that the final wedding of the season was their closest friend's, and they would have to stand there, just across from each other, and watch someone else live the fairy tale that should have been theirs. The fairy tale that once was so close that Justin had started brainstorming all the promises he'd make to her at the altar.

She watched as he tried his best to keep his composure, feeling the weight of his pain mirroring her own. The wedding was beautiful, filled with the kind of love and promise she had always hoped her own wedding would hold. Yet here they were, standing before their friends and family with the fractures of their relationship laid barely beneath the surface, ready to shatter at any moment.

She barely blinked before they were inside for the reception. The ballroom was a whirlwind of activity, with guests mingling and congratulating the newlyweds. The sound of clinking glasses and laughter filled the air, the kind of joy that made her heart feel both full and hollow at the same time. She found a seat at the bridesmaid's table and picked at her dinner, her appetite lost in the sea of emotions crashing against her.

Neither of them had looked at each other since the vow exchange, the weight of the words still heavy in the air. The reception was a blur of small talk and forced smiles. They danced with other people, their bodies moving through the motions while their hearts felt like they were stuck in quicksand. But as the night grew late and the party grew tired, the DJ announced the final slow dance.

The opening chords of the DJ's song of choice filled the reception hall, and she recognized it instantly.

If I go a million miles away

I'd write a letter, each and every day

Nothing Can Change This Love by Sam Cooke began to play. The slow, soulful melody drifting through the speakers like a ghost from their past. It was their song, the one they had heard in a movie and decided it was written for them, the one they had danced to in the kitchen when they were both miserably under the weather, the one they had talked about playing at their wedding. Her heart lurched as she felt a hand gently on her shoulder. She turned to find Justin's blue eyes filled with a silent plea.

"Dance with me?" he asked, his voice maybe the softest she'd ever heard it. His eyes searched hers, looking for something she wasn't sure she had the power to refuse.

She felt the air leave her lungs as she nodded. They took their places on the dance floor, their bodies close but not quite touching. The music swelled around them, a poignant reminder of their shared history. The dance floor was crowded with other couples, but she could only see him, feel him. His hand found its way to the small of her back, pulling her closer, and she laid her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Make me weep and you can make me cry

See me coming and you can pass me by

But honey, nothing, nothing, can ever change this love I have for you

Her body melted into Justin's embrace as they swayed to the rhythm, her hand resting on his shoulder, her cheek pressed against his chest. The warmth of his body seeped into hers, bringing a comfort she hadn't realized she missed so profoundly. His heart thudded beneath her ear, a reminder of the love they once shared, the love she was trying so hard to let go of. She could feel the dampness of his shirt where her tears had fallen, a silent confession of the pain she was in.

You're the apple of my eye

You're cherry pie

And oh, you're, you're cake and ice cream

You're sugar and spice, and everything nice

She could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest as he softly sung along to the lyrics, the words muffled and filled with a sadness she hadn't heard in his voice before. His hand slid up to the nape of her neck, his thumb brushing against her skin in a way that sent shivers down her spine. Her eyes closed and she let herself lean into him, the fabric of their wedding party attire rustling as they danced. It was as if the world around them had disappeared, leaving only the two of them, their hearts beating in a silent admission of love and loss.

You're the girl of my, my, my, my, dreams

That had always been his favorite line of the song. She knew it well, had heard him whisper it into her ear countless times, had felt it in every kiss and caress. Now, it felt like a knife twisting in her chest. She didn't know if she could do this, didn't know if she could stand here and pretend like this dance didn't mean anything when every fiber of her being was begging her to stay, to forget the ache of her heart and the doubt in her mind.

But if you wanted to leave me and roam

When you got back, I'd just say 'welcome home'

'Cause honey, nothing, nothing, nothing can ever change this love I have for you

She felt the warm, steady trickle of tears continue slip down her cheeks as she listened to the lyrics, feeling Justin's warmth and the gentle pressure of his hand guiding her through the dance. She could hear the way the lyrics caught in Justin's throat, the tremor of his voice as he sang along to the song, their song.

I know, I know, I know, I know, I know that nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing can ever change the love I have for you

The last lines of the song left her lips, finishing off where Justin's voice had completely given out. They held each other tighter, the music now just background to their silent, desperate conversation of touch and regret. Her breath was ragged, her chest heaving with the sobs she'd been holding back for nearly two months.

Justin leaned down, his cheek against hers. He didn't say anything, just held her there, the two of them moving in unison to the music that had played so many times before in happier moments. She felt his breath against her skin, the warmth of his body surrounding her, and for a moment, she pretended they were in their kitchen again, just two teenagers lost in the music and perfectly content with their love alone.

But the moment was shattered when the song ended, the applause of the guests echoing through the ballroom. They separated slowly, awkwardly, like two magnets forced apart after years of clinging together. She could see the wetness in Justin's eyes, the unshed tears that mirrored her own. He opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head, the words caught in her throat like shards of glass.

He nodded at that, releasing her hand to shove his own into his pockets. Then he turned on his heels and disappeared into the crowd. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She turned in the opposite direction, finding the bathroom to touch up her makeup before returning to the reception floor to enjoy the last few moments of mingling.

In the haze of her emotions, she had completely forgotten about the hotel room. Another room booked nearly a year in advance with a king-sized bed meant for two, for a couple that was no longer. As the reception wound down and the last of the guests bid their congratulations to the newlyweds, she found herself unable to move from the spot where she had been standing. The reality of the night ahead washed over her like a cold shower.

The silence in the car on the way to the hotel was oppressive, each mile feeling like a countdown to the end of an era. Her eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, avoiding the reflection of the city lights in the rearview mirror, which only served to remind her of the apartment she had just seen two days prior.

They managed to make it up to the room without a word, the weight of the evening pressing down on them like a heavy fog. Visibly, they both looked exhausted, drained from the weight of every emotion under the sun passing through them like conducted electricity. Once inside, she made a beeline for the bathroom, shutting the door behind her with a soft click that echoed through the suite.

All she wanted was to get out of her dress, take a shower, and crawl into bed. But even in the solace of the bathroom, she couldn't escape the universe's inconvenient timing. The dress that was perfectly tailored to her measurements and had slipped on so easily early that day was now unfathomably difficult to remove. The metal zipper seemed to have a vendetta against her, sticking and snagging with each painful attempt to pull it down. The shake in her hands and the tears welling in her eyes didn't help the process. It was as if the dress had become a metaphor for their relationship - something that once fit so snugly now felt suffocatingly tight.

She wasn't sure how long she had been fighting with the zipper when Justin's voice called out softly, "Hey, do you need help?" His words pierced through the silence. He was close, just beyond the door as if he had heard her frustration and come running. She took a moment to compose herself before responding, "Please." The door creaked open, and he stepped in, his eyes avoiding hers in the mirror. Gently, he took over, his strong hands making quick work of the stubborn zipper. The dress slid down her body, revealing her bare back to the cool air. She stepped out of the dress, the fabric pooling at her feet.

She sniffled, failing to maintain her composure as she wrapped her arms around herself. Justin took in the sight of her, his heart clenching. He had seen her in various states of undress over the years, but this moment was different. This was not intimate, but a silent understanding that this could the last time he'd ever see her like this. Vulnerable, near naked, and so utterly beautiful.

"Hey, talk to me," Justin whispered, reaching for a white robe to hand her. The fabric was soft, the hotel's emblem embroidered neatly on the chest. She took the robe, her trembling hands proving useless in the task of tying it. Justin stepped in, his hands deftly wrapping the material around her, his touch gentle and tender.

She turned to face him, her eyes swimming in unshed tears. "I can't," she whispered back, her voice cracking.

Justin took a deep breath, his own eyes glistening with the same pain. "Can't what, baby?" He stepped closer, his hand resting on her shoulder.

"I can't talk to you," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's too hard. Seeing you, touching you, it's too much." She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay strong. "I'm not ready to let you go, but I feel like I have to."

If Justin could fall to his knees and thank whatever deity had brought him to this moment, he would. Instead, he swallowed his pride and fear, and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. He could feel her body tremble against his own, and for a moment, everything was right in the world. "You don't have to," he murmured into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "We don't have to do this. I don't want to do this."

'Want'. His conversation with Brandon echoed through his mind. He could practically hear him say, 'What do you want, Justin?' The answer had always been relatively simple. But now, it couldn't be more simple. He wanted her. The woman who had been his everything for a decade. The woman whose hand he had held through countless highs and lows, whose smile had been the brightest spot in his darkest moments.

"But we—" she started, only to be cut off by Justin who shook his head.

"No," Justin said firmly, pulling away to look at her. "We don't have to do anything we're not ready for. I know we said we'd go through with this, but I can't lose you." His eyes searched hers, looking for a glimmer of hope. "I don't want us to go on a break or break up. Not because it would be inconvenient or… or because I'm comfortable. I don't want to lose you because you're the only woman I've ever loved."

She looked up at him, the robe feeling like it was made of lead on her shoulders.

"Every time I've told you I love you, I meant it," Justin continued, his voice shaking. "I can't imagine how much it must hurt you to think that I don't mean that wholeheartedly. I know I've dropped the ball; I know I haven't been there for you like I should have been. But, baby, I want to be. I need to be."

She felt her resolve slipping. "Justin, you're going to be okay," she said, trying to convince herself as much as him. "You're a catch. You're going to find someone who'll love you for you."

He took a step closer, his eyes searching hers. "But I don't want anyone else. I want you. Only you." His hand reached out to wipe away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. The touch was electric, sending a jolt of feeling through her body that she hadn't felt in so long. "You said that you thought we didn't experience enough of the world to know that this is it for us," he said, his voice low and earnest. "Well, I'm telling you now, I don't need to. I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I will do whatever it takes to make this work. To make you happy."

She exhaled but didn't speak, allowing him a chance to finally fight for her. "I can't let you walk away from me without telling you that I've spent the last ten years of my life in awe of the woman you've become," Justin whispered, his thumb lingering on her cheek. "I want to wake up to your smile, watch you conquer the world, and be the shoulder you lean on. I've made mistakes, I know, but I want to learn from them, and I'll keep learning. For you, I'll do whatever it takes."

"But, you could make another woman so happy," she replied, her voice cracking with the weight of her words.

"I don't want to make another woman happy. All I've ever wanted is to make you happy," Justin said. It was his turn for his voice to crack with emotion. "If you want us to start over, relearn each other, explore who we are now, I'll do it." He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "I will relearn everything about you, no matter how long it takes, because my favorite part of living this life is living it with you. I don't know how I'm supposed to let you walk when you're everything I need. You're all I've dreamed about and everything I've planned for."

He reached for her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. "I love you. And I'm not willing to let go." His voice was a gentle plea, the desperation in his eyes mirroring the tumult in her heart. "Give me a chance to make it up to you," he whispered, his thumb brushing away another tear. "Give us a chance. Please."

Her breath caught in her throat, the words she had so desperately needed to hear echoing in her ears. The love she had pushed aside in her quest for self-discovery rushed back to the forefront, threatening to drown her in its intensity. She searched his eyes, looking for any hint of doubt or insincerity, but all she found was raw, unencumbered love.

All she could do was nod, the dam of her emotions giving way. Justin's eyes searched hers, hopeful and desperate. "We can work on us," he murmured. "We can grow together, support each other's dreams, and build the life we've talked about for so long." He paused, his heart racing. "Just please say yes."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears as she whispered, "Yes." It was the softest, most hopeful sound she had made in weeks. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. The relief that flooded through him was palpable, radiating off of his skin, his embrace tightening around her. He took a deep breath, inhaling her scent as if it was the sweetest perfume in the world.

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 19: Did You Mean That?

Joel confronts your shared past and potential future. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 18, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 6.6k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Joel was frozen for longer than he was proud of, staring at the place you’d left him. 

I fucking heard you. 

What the fuck did that even mean? Heard what? 

He looked back toward Sarah’s room. He shouldn’t just leave her here by herself but he considered it all the same. He’d just… he’d go after you, make you talk to him like he should have done all those years ago. He wasn’t going to just let you disappear again, not this time. 

Instead, he called you, still standing on his front stoop, still considering chasing after you. It rang twice but then you sent him to voicemail. 

“Fuck!” 

His grip got tight on the phone but he resisted the urge to hurl the phone at the brick of his house. 

“Dad?” Sarah peered at him from around the doorway, her eyes somehow seeming especially wide. 

He sighed. 

“Yes, baby girl.” 

“You and Aunt Goldie were really in a fight, huh.” 

He sighed again, looking at his daughter even though it only made him feel worse. She loved you so much, you were the closest thing she’d ever had to a mother and Joel had fucked that up, too. 

“It’s… it’s complicated, baby girl,” he said. “C’mon, let’s go inside, it’s getting late, you should get ready for bed…” 

“But,” she huffed. “Dad, it’s Goldie. You can’t just let her leave, she’s family!” 

“I know,” he said, a hand on her back as he guided her back inside. “Not gonna just let her go, don’t worry. I just… need to figure out what to do first, OK?” 

“Promise you’re not going to just not talk again for years?” She asked, looking up at him. “Because - sorry, Dad - that was bullshit.” 

“Hey,” he said. “Language.” 

“Dad.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you’re right. It was bullshit.” 

He texted you while Sarah got ready for bed but you left him on read and he ground his teeth. He read his daughter a chapter from a book and resisted her begging to have him read another one before tucking her in, thankful that she still wanted him to do this at all. 

“Hey Dad?” She said as he went to leave. 

“Yes, baby girl?” 

“You’re going to talk to her, right?” 

He sighed. She sounded so hopeful. 

“I’ll fix it,” he said. “Promise. Love you.” 

“Love you too,” she said, sounding more relaxed. 

He closed the door behind him and went to the living room, pacing for a moment. 

I fucking heard you. 

He tried to remember the conversation with Ricky all those years ago, not something he’d really thought about in so long. 

Other things from that small window of time had dominated Joel’s memory. He remembered trying to find the words to talk to you, trying to come up with a plan for every possible outcome. If you wanted him, too, then he would figure out a way to be there for Tommy and his mom from afar and go with you. If, heaven forbid, you were pregnant, he would do everything to make sure you could still go to school and still be everything you were meant to be while he took care of the rest. If you wanted nothing to do with him… that had been the one scenario he hadn’t come up with a solution for. Of course, that had been the one he’d been left to reckon with. 

He remembered how he felt then, how desperate he’d been. But he couldn’t remember exactly what he’d said to fucking Ricky, something that had apparently stuck out in your mind so much that you’d moved across the country without a fucking word. He went over it again and again but couldn’t remember it, even though it felt like his fucking life depended on it. 

Eventually he tried to call you again but it only rang once before you sent him to voicemail. 

He listened to your outgoing message, bright and cheery, flexing his hand again and again as he waited, impatiently, for the beep. 

“Goldie,” he said when it finally let him record a message. “Not letting you walk out, I’m gonna keep calling. Just… pick up, baby. Please.” 

He hung up and immediately called again. Two rings, then voicemail. He called again. 

The fourth time, you finally answered, your voice sharp and harsh. 

“What!” You snapped. “What more do you want from me?” 

“I want to talk to you,” he said, straining to keep calm. “I don’t know what you mean, I don’t remember what the fuck you’re talking about, I…” 

You laughed once, derisively. 

“Of course you don’t,” you said. “You wouldn’t, would you? Because I was always just another girl to you, wasn’t I? Why would you remember…” 

“No,” he cut you off. “No, that’s not…” 

“I need some space, Joel,” you said. 

“I’m not losing you again, Goldie,” he said, harsher than he really meant to. “Please, let me just…” 

“If you don’t want to lose me then do what I’m asking you to do,” you said. “I need space, OK? I can’t just do this with you, I can’t… just don’t call me or text me or whatever, just give me some time.” 

“Goldie…” 

“I mean it, Joel,” you said. “I need space.” 

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Fine,” he said. “I…I can do that.” 

“Thank you,” you said. “I’ll talk to later.” 

“Will you?” He asked, probably rougher than he should have. 

“Eventually,” you said. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah,” he said, his voice thick. “Yeah, OK.” 

You hung up and he sighed, sinking onto the couch and cradling his head in his hands for a moment. 

He was on the edge of losing you again, he could feel it. He couldn’t let it happen, not this time. He started thinking again, just like he had all those years ago, trying to think up contingency plans and ways to work through this without you leaving but, really, that’s what it always came back to. He’d do anything - he’d never touch you again, he’d tolerate your shitbag husband, he’d watch you live a life he was agonizingly separate from - if it just meant that you stayed. 

Joel got himself a drink, which quickly became two and then three, staring at the ceiling, wondering just how long he was supposed to stay away from you this time before he passed out on the couch. 

When he woke up the next day, time seemed to crawl. He couldn’t just ignore you.  You were in everything, it seemed. Sarah showed him the books you’d gotten her, excited about reading them. He reviewed his business plan again and again, looking at your notes in the margins. He put on a Longhorns t-shirt and remembered you sitting at his kitchen table, building out your syllabus for the year. 

Even Tommy noticed a difference when he was at work on Tuesday, seemingly short tempered and impatient. 

“You gonna tell me who pissed in your Cheerios or you gonna leave that a mystery?” Tommy asked as they leaned against his truck during a coffee break. 

“What do you mean?” Joel frowned, staring down at the paper cup and thinking about how you took your coffee and wondering what was he supposed to do with that knowledge if you were just gone now.

“I mean you’ve been biting people’s heads off all week,” Tommy said. “I mean, you’re always an asshole but you’ve been in rare form man.” 

“Tommy…” 

“Don’t feed me some bullshit, either,” he interrupted him. “Know you too well for that.” 

Joel looked at Tommy for a moment before he sighed and it all came spilling out of him - prom night, what had been happening between the two of you the last few months, the moment in his kitchen, what you’d yelled at him over the weekend, all of it. 

“Jesus,” Tommy said when he was done, just blinking at him, dumbfounded. “I… fuck, man. I always thought there was something between you two but… holy shit.” 

“I don’t know what the fuck it is she’s talking about,” Joel said. “I talked with Ricky back then but fuck if I can remember what it was about, that was more than a decade ago, what the fuck am I supposed to do?” 

“I mean… do you know how she feels?” Tommy asked, taking a sip of coffee.

“Yeah,” Joel scoffed. “Yeah, I think she’s made that perfectly fuckin’ clear.” 

“Has she?” Tommy said. “Because - and maybe you just didn’t mention it - but I don’t think you actually talked about it. Ever. Not once.” 

Joel frowned, looking at the ground, going over everything in his mind. 

That couldn’t be right, could it? 

It sure seemed like you’d talked about it. Maybe not explicitly, but everything you’d said pointed to you seeing him as a friend. You said you wanted to be with someone you could love and that wasn’t him. The first time he’d slept with you again, you asked him not to call you baby and he’d all but begged you to let him. He’d had to fucking comfort you the morning after the concert, tell you that it didn’t mean anything so you didn’t panic because being with him freaked you out that much. You’d never said it, not in so many words, but you didn’t need to. 

“Maybe you should ask her,” Tommy said when Joel had been quiet for too long. 

“Tommy,” Joel groaned, rolling his eyes. “I can’t just…” 

“Can’t you?” Tommy said. “I mean… shit, man. You already blew it all up, what else you got to lose?” 

Tommy’s words were still in Joel’s mind when he left the job site that afternoon, going home to get cleaned up before going to the bank for his business loan appointment. 

What did he really have to lose? He could at least tell you how he felt, a thought that made his chest tight but brought a sense of relief, too. He’d been holding this in for so long now. It seemed like loving you had become a part of him, one that he was used to keeping to himself but one he didn’t want to hide anymore.

He’d told himself for years that he’d loved you quietly because it’s what you wanted. You weren’t interested, it was unfair to put his feelings on you. Even when you were a country away and not speaking with him, he found it strangely comforting to know that while it might be because he’d caved to his baser instincts and slept with you, it wasn’t because he’d pushed his feelings on you. He had regrets - he’d have given anything to take back that night if it meant you’d just talk to him again - but at least he knew how he felt about you hadn’t been the thing that had driven you away. 

Could it really be possible that not telling you had been the thing that sent you running from him? Had he really wasted years of his life not having you all because he’d been too afraid of actually fucking saying it? 

He put on his best clothes - wishing he had a suit for the first time in his life - and took a deep breath, looking at himself in the mirror. It felt like his whole life was riding on this, everything he could have sitting there, just out of reach. 

He’d never been worthy of you before. Back when he met you, he was barely passing his classes, going nowhere fast. Doomed to spend his life in his hometown, doing some job to get by while trying to keep his kid brother’s nose clean. He hadn’t gotten much better since, staying in the first job he could get, doing his best to raise the child he’d made by accident, trying to make something of himself as he could. It was nothing compared to you. But if he could manage this, actually do something real and tangible, maybe he’d feel worthwhile. 

Joel drummed his hands on the steering wheel as he drove, one of the Taylor Swift songs from the concert he’d gone to with you and Sarah coming on the radio and he remembered looking at you that night, remembered how much he wanted to kiss you in a way that actually meant something. He had to do this. He had to. 

His stomach was in knots as he sat in the bank waiting room, one foot bouncing as he tried not to crinkle his presentation and application in his hands. He wished you were here. Why was he doing this on his own? What made him think he was even fucking capable of this without you? 

After what felt like a small eternity, a woman named Audrey brought him back to her office and Joel took a deep breath before walking her through his business plan. 

His heart was pounding the entire time and there was something perverse about talking through a future that you weren’t somehow a part of. He walked Audrey through the financial plans, what the next five years would look like and there was the nagging thought at the back of his mind that he should have talked with you about all of this. How money would be tight for a while, how he’d be extra busy, how much he appreciated the way you’d supported him through all of this so far. He never could have done this without you pushing him, encouraging him, helping him navigate the business world. It felt like your success, too, when Audrey set his presentation down on her desk, nodding. 

“Well, Joel,” she said, looking at him with a smile. “I think we have everything we need. Congratulations, you’re getting your loan!” 

Joel just laughed for a second, looking next to him quickly before remembering that you weren’t by his side. 

“Thank you,” he said. “This is… thank you very much.” 

“Looking forward to doing business with you,” she smiled. “Give me just a minute and I’ll be back with some papers so we can get things going.” 

Joel took his phone out and stared at his text message conversation with you, the last thing he sent still “I’m sorry.” He wanted to tell you that he’d done it. He was a business owner, he was going to be something, he was becoming someone that Sarah was going to be proud of and it was all because you’d come back into his life. You were who he wanted to share this with and he couldn’t. 

Audrey gave him the paperwork and he went through it page by page, more than a little reminded of when he got his mortgage and felt like he was signing his life away but with more optimism about his future this time. 

About halfway through the paperwork, though, the pen started skipping. He tried wetting the tip of it, scratching on a corner of the paper but he couldn’t get it to write smoothly again. 

“Do you got another one of these?” Joel asked, holding the pen up. “Can’t get it to work…” 

“Oh yeah, sorry about that,” Audrey said, looking around her desk, including at an empty pen cup. “Let me just…” 

She opened a desk drawer and took a few things out, piling things on her desk - a purse, water bottle, a book. 

Joel cocked his head at the book, the spine of it familiar. So familiar that he couldn’t help but laugh. Of course you’d be here, too. 

“What?” She asked as she found a plain, white box and pulled out a handful of pens with the bank’s logo on the side. She dropped them into the pen cup and held one out to Joel. 

“Oh, nothin’,” he said, taking the pen and nodding at the novel. “Just… my friend, she wrote that book. Funny seeing someone read it.” 

“Wait, really?” She asked, her face lighting up as she held up your book. “You know who wrote this?” 

“Yeah,” Joel nodded. “Yeah, she’s my best friend, known her since we were 15. She’s… she’s amazing. She teaches now, over at UT.” 

Audrey set the book down, leaning over the desk with her arms folded in front of her like she was going to tell Joel some kind of secret. 

“OK can I ask something?” She asked. “Sorry, this is probably hugely unprofessional but I am obsessed with this book, I can’t put it down and my book club is going crazy. Is any of it true? The falling in love and things ending like that? It seems like it has to be at least somewhat based on her life, I don’t see how someone could write this without knowing it, you know?” 

“Oh, uh,” Joel cupped the back of his neck awkwardly. “I actually… haven’t read it?” 

“Oh,” she said, sitting back a little, looking let down. 

“Sorry,” Joel said. “I’ve tried and I know it’ll be amazing but it’s just too weird for me…” 

“No, I’m sorry,” she laughed a little. “I overstepped, I shouldn’t have assumed…” 

“I should read it,” Joel said quickly. “I got it at home, maybe I’ll give it another go now.” 

“You should,” Audrey said. “It’s really, really good.” 

The new pen worked and Joel finished the paperwork, staring at his signature on the last page a  little too long. He handed the pen and papers back to Audrey. 

“You can keep the pen,” she smiled, taking the pages. “Let me make copies of these for your records but otherwise, congratulations, owner of Miller Brothers Construction and Contracting!” 

Joel had a bubble of pride in his chest as he drove home, one that seemed too big to keep contained and, against his better judgement, he called you. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected, if he thought you were going to send him to voicemail, if you were going to answer and let him actually say something to you or what. 

What he didn’t expect was Gale. 

“Hello?” 

Joel just blinked for a second, recognizing the man’s pompous voice even from just the one word. 

“Is this Joel?” Gale - fucking BRAD - said. He took his silence as a yes and laughed. “Was wondering if I’d hear from you. Don’t worry, she’s with me, back where she belongs. Thanks for looking after her while I was gone, though. Appreciate it.” 

“Lemme talk to her,” Joel said through clenched teeth. 

“I don’t see why that’s necessary,” he said. “Seems like she doesn’t want much to do with you these days. Think you blew it. Thanks for that, too, by the way.” 

“We’re just…” 

“You’re just nothing,” Gale cut him off. “You were nothing but a childish distraction for her. She went running back here when things got hard - which I take my part of the blame for - and she needed a project to keep herself busy but she doesn’t need you anymore. So go back to the little life you’re meant for and leave us be. She was always too much for you and this place, anyway.” 

“No,” Joel said sharply. “No, you put her on the phone, put her on the phone right now!” 

“Can’t do that,” Gale said. “But I’ll tell her you called. Take care.” 

The line went dead and Joel threw his phone against the dash so hard the screen cracked. 

“Fuck!” He yelled, smacking his hands against the steering wheel. He wasn’t going to lose you, not again, not like this. 

He ignored Gale. Instead, he drove to your house, pounding sharply on the door, panting for breath as he did but you never answered. 

So he went to Anna’s next. He only needed to knock for a minute before she opened the door, Ellie’s beaming, chubby face happy in her arms. 

“Hey Joel,” Anna smiled at him. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! Here to see this one?” 

Ellie squirmed in Anna’s arms, cooing and reaching for Joel and he laughed once, he couldn’t help it, before holding his arms out for her. Anna handed him her daughter and Ellie giggled, immediately reaching to tangle her tiny fingers in his curls. He smiled at her for a moment, marveling at the little girl who’d brought you and him together in the way it felt like you were always meant to be.

“Is she here?” Joel asked, bouncing a little with Ellie, watching her smile, her little body a grounding force that eased his racing heart. 

“Oh,” Anna frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. “No, sorry, she’s not here too often anymore, just a few times a week… She moved back home, I thought you knew that?” 

“No, I did,” Joel said quickly, looking to Anna and offering a finger to Ellie for her to gum at. “She just… wasn’t there, tried callin’ her but…” 

“Oh,” Anna pulled her phone out, looking at the time. “She might still be at the school, I can call her for you…” 

“No,” Joel said quickly, not wanting to get your sister involved in the mess of whatever the fuck was going on between the two of you. “Don’t… Don’t worry about it, sure I’ll talk to her eventually.” 

“OK,” Anna said, still frowning. “Look… It’s not my business but… Is there something going on with you two?” 

Joel just looked at Anna for a moment, wondering if he should tell her, too, because fuck it, why not just let the whole world know how much he’d fucked up with you.  

But she beat him to it, going from a frown to an absolutely glowing smile in no time at all. 

“Oh my God.” 

“What?” He asked, adjusting his hold on Ellie. 

“You love her!” She sounded practically giddy. “Oh my GOD I knew it! You LOVE her! Have you told her? Does she know? Oh my GOD, JOEL!” 

“I… I haven’t exactly said it,” Joel said, his cheeks getting hot. “I don’t want to make it her problem, I don’t want to get in the way of her being happy, I just… I want to be there for it.”

Anna just looked at him for a moment before shaking her head a little. 

“Is… Is she happy with him?” Joel asked, watching your sister closely. “Is he what she wants? I didn’t know her when they were really together, I just… it seems like he holds her back and that he’s bad for her and…” 

“Joel, did you read her book?” Anna cut him off. 

He frowned. 

“What? What does that…” 

“You wanted to know if he’s what she wants,” Anna said. “She’s never going to actually say it, you know that. At least not to you or to me, she’s always going to try to seem like she’s OK and handle it herself until she can’t and even then she’s not going to actually fucking say it, Joel, but she will write it. She always writes it. Read the book, Joel.” 

He gave Ellie back to Anna and went home, trying to focus as he made Sarah dinner and helped her with her homework. 

Read the book. Just read the fucking book. Was that all it would take? Could he even do that? If fucking Brad really was what you wanted, could he really sit and read hundreds of pages about how much better your life had been when he wasn’t in it? 

He’d never been able to manage it and it wasn’t because he didn’t want to know you through your words and it wasn’t because he didn’t like your writing. It was because he didn’t know if he could stomach reading something you wrote while you were in love with someone else. 

But… Anna was right. He knew that. If he wanted to know the truth of any of it, he’d have to read it. So, after he tucked Sarah into bed, he sat on the floor, staring at the box in his closet that held the two copies of your book like it was daring him to actually confront his feelings for a change. Because that had always worked out so well for him in the past, not like every fucking time he’d resolved to actually talk to you he hadn’t found you loving someone else. 

“Fuck it,” he muttered, opening the box and pulling out the books. This time, though, he picked the signed copy, the one he’d never tried to read before. There was something different about holding this copy, knowing that you had once, too. He ran his hands over the cover and the spine reverently for a moment before he leaned his back against the wall of the closet and opened the book. 

Joel had to force himself to read past the first few paragraphs, his stomach in knots the entire time, but, after a while, he fell into it - to the point that he almost forgot that he was reading your book. 

He’d known, from what little he’d managed to read in the past, that the book started in Austin, he just hadn’t expected the story to linger there.

But it did, the narrative following a girl named Cressida. She started out as a quiet, introspective high schooler who had become unlikely friends with a football player named Eli, a friendship that felt so like his with yours. They knew each other, understood each other, their worlds seem to revolve around each other. It seemed natural that it led to them sleeping together. But instead of the immediate implosion that had ended your relationship in real life, theirs devolved over time. Cressida came back to him again and again, the two of them winding up loosely connected every time a relationship of Eli’s fizzled out, her clinging to a heart wrenching longing that hurt to read, one that her friend seemed shockingly oblivious to.

Eventually, though, things came crashing down. This was different too, though, because it ended not with her vanishing but him, a car accident claiming Eli’s life when Cressida had finally resolved to tell him how she felt. They buried him in a sunny corner of the graveyard just before graduation and Cressida, it seemed, never really moved past it.

The other three-quarters of the book followed her as she tried – desperately, devastatingly – to live again, to get over the love she’d never really had to begin with, to find some place to root herself outside of that sun-drenched grave in her hometown.

She never really managed it, the ending almost painfully unsatisfying but feeling true. She’d become something – Cressida delving into the business world instead of the creative one as you had – and she found success away from home but her mind kept going back to that place and that person. She’d had relationships but, when her last boyfriend had proposed, she couldn’t bring herself to say yes. It had felt like a lie, to tell someone she would love him above all others when she’d never love him more than the memory of the boy who had been gone for years. He’d died at the worst time, the part of her life that would always be on a pedestal no matter what she did. Nothing and no one would ever compare and she was stuck, still going back to him again and again even though he was cold in the ground.

The last chapter closed with her bringing home a man who reminded her of her friend, something charming about him that took her back to that brighter place for a while. But when he fell asleep next to her, she had to confront that hollow feeling in her chest. In the last moment of the story, she bought a plane ticket to go back to that sunny grave site, something about the calm that fell over her when she decided to go back making it seem like that grave was her resting place, too.

Joel just stared at the book when he read the final words, the last pages flopping over, revealing your picture on the inside flap of the dust jacket. That knowing smile and piercing gaze gutted him then, no longer the taunt and temptation of knowledge they had once been.

Was Anna right, was this the truth of it? Did you write out your real feelings? Had he really gotten everything this fucking wrong? Had he really spent years wishing things with you were different when they’d been different all along?

He got out his phone and ignored the fact that it was 4:30 in the morning and called you. You didn’t answer. It didn’t even go to voicemail, the phone ringing once before he got some message saying the number was unavailable.

“Fuck,” he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. He wasn’t positive but, based on his experience trying to track down Sarah’s mom years ago, that meant you’d blocked his number. It’d be just his fucking luck that he thought - hoped? - that, maybe, you felt the way he did at the same time he lost you for good.

He sat there with his eyes closed in the glow of his closet light, next to the box made up of the history of you, trying to pick through his memory from all those years ago, searching for some sort of guarantee that the book was based on what happened between the two of you back then.  

At some point, when he was swallowed by his memory of you, he fell asleep. Maybe it was the book, maybe it was the fact that he’d been sifting through ancient history when exhaustion finally caught up with him, maybe it was your words still ringing in his ears, but he remembered then. 

In his dream, he was back under the bleachers with Ricky, pacing to work out his nerves. He talked to his friend - the one who was more experienced, the one who wasn’t reckless, the one who would understand exactly why he was so afraid of what he might have just done to you. 

But, most importantly, he remembered exactly how that conversation had ended. 

It’s Goldie. I wish it were anyone else. It’d be better if it were anyone else.

“Dad!” 

Joel jerked awake, the book still open in his hands, your signature there for him to see. 

I fucking heard you. 

Sarah pounded on his bedroom door again. 

“Dad, come on!” She yelled. “I’m gonna be late!” 

“Shit,” he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and checked the time before calling to his daughter. “Two minutes, baby girl!” 

He got up as quickly as he could, his legs tingling from his awkward sleeping position on the floor of the fucking closet. 

Joel got changed quickly, barely paying attention to what he was putting on.

He’d had the answers sitting there for years, he’d just been too afraid to look it in the face but he had and now he knew. He knew how you felt - how you must have felt, why else would his misunderstood words have driven you away? - he knew how much time he’d already fucking wasted by being a coward, he knew it all now. 

He just didn’t know what the fuck to do about it. 

Joel got Sarah out the door quickly, barely paying attention on his drive to the school. He couldn’t just give up. He already refused to lose you, not again, but now it would be impossible. You were so close, everything he’d ever wanted there in front of him but just out of reach. Even if you’d moved on now, even if you were happier with fucking Brad, he had to tell you. He owed both of you that much. 

“Bye Dad!” Sarah poked her head between the two front seats and gave him a peck on the cheek. 

“What was that for?” He frowned, turning to look at her. 

She just shrugged and smiled. 

“Just seemed like you needed it,” she said. “Love you!” 

“Love you too!” He called after her as she hopped down from the truck and slammed the door behind her with a little too much force, waving behind her as she ran to the building. 

“Alright,” he took a deep breath, looking at the clock on his dashboard. Just after 8 a.m. He’d start at your place because he wasn’t sure what time you went to campus this semester. But he was going to talk to you. He was going to talk to you and he was going to tell you how he felt and he was going to do it today. “I’m comin’, Goldie.” 

You weren’t at your place when he got there. He tried not to think about if it was because you’d spent the night with fucking Brad, if you’d gone to his hotel and had never even been here. Instead, he went to campus. He wasn’t sure where you’d be teaching right now but he was pretty sure you wouldn’t be in your office. You always had morning classes with a break in the afternoon. 

“Excuse me,” he said to a random passing college student. “I’m lookin’ for… shit, probably creative writing? Or literature? What buildings are those?” 

“Oh, um,” the girl looked around quickly. “I’m a physics major but I know I had an English class in that building over there last semester? You could start there?” 

She pointed to a building in the distance and Joel kept his groan to himself. He forgot how fucking huge college campuses were. 

But he couldn’t just sit and wait. He needed to find you and he needed to do it now. 

“Thanks,” he said, giving her a wave and already starting to jog for the building. “Appreciate it!” 

But you didn’t have a class in that building. At least not at that time of day. He knew because he looked in all the lecture halls. You weren’t there. 

He tried two other buildings after asking for directions - no luck - before checking his watch. If your schedule was anything like it had been the semesters before, you’d be in your office soon. That, at least, he knew how to find. 

He jogged there, resisting the urge to run because that would probably make him look utterly insane, and threw his arm out to catch the elevator on its way up. 

“Floor 10, please,” he said to one of the college girls looking at him funny as he panted for breath. She did as he asked, though, and he marveled, for a moment, at just how fucking young college kids seemed to him now.

He closed his eyes and focused for a second, trying to figure out exactly what to say to you, but hearing your name pulled him out of his head. 

“I don’t think they’re still like… together together, though,” the girl who’d pushed the button said. “Like I know they were married but she said he was visiting. He’d live here if they were married, right? Besides, I really don’t think her husband would be asking for my number with his wife there, would he?” 

“I dunno,” the other girl shrugged. “He’s just… isn’t he old? Like old old, not hot old.” 

“I like them old,” the first girl giggled. “They know what they’re doing then.” 

The elevator chimed and the girls got off and Joel’s heart was beating so hard he could feel the blood in his body. You’d brought fucking Brad here and he’d hit on one of your fucking students - one who looked so young Joel never would have looked twice at her if he saw her on the street. Right in front of you, from the sounds of it. That’s who you’d chosen, that’s who you’d felt like you deserved because he hadn’t opened his fucking mouth years earlier. 

When the elevator made it to floor 10, he squeezed out of the doors, not willing to wait for them to open all the way, and ran to your office. 

“Excuse me,” the girl behind the front desk said as he went past her. “You can’t just…” 

“It’s fine,” he said, catching the door as someone came out of the hall where your office was. 

“No, wait!” She called after him but he ignored her. 

He ducked around other professors, dodging them and their questions until he was at your door. 

It was closed but he didn’t bother to knock, throwing the door open to find you there, standing in front of your desk in the arms of your fucking husband as he kissed you. 

Joel moved so fast that neither you nor Gale had noticed he was there but he couldn’t just stand there and watch that fucking guy kiss you, not like that. 

Without really thinking about it, he ripped him away from you, just catching a glimpse of the shock on your face as he punched Gale in the head, sending him sprawling into your desk. 

“Joel!” You yelled before grabbing his arm and pulling him back before he could hit your goddamn husband again. “What the fuck are you doing!” 

“Sorry, baby,” he said, shaking the feel of the punch out of his hand, his knuckles raw. “I couldn’t just watch that fucking guy touch you like that.” 

“Well, it’s really not your business how he touches me!” You snapped, shoving him back. “You don’t get to just come in here and hit people because you’re not getting your way anymore!” 

“That ain’t what this is,” he said, taking you by the shoulders, something grounding in the fact that could feel you again. “Baby, I read your book…” 

“Congratulations!” You snapped. “What, do you want a cookie because you finally got around to supporting me?” 

“No,” he shook his head. “Did you mean that? What you wrote, was that…” 

“What does it matter!” You asked, your eyes searching his face. “Why do you care! It’s ancient history, it doesn’t…” 

“It does matter!” He held you tight, wanting to kiss you more than he ever had before. “It matters because I love you, I love you so much, I’ve loved you since we were fucking kids, I love you so much that I think it might kill me if you don’t let me just say that to you at least this once and if you feel that way, too…” 

“You need to leave,” Gale - who Joel had all but forgotten about - said, trying to position himself between you and Joel. “And take your hands off my wife.” 

“Oh I haven’t even fuckin’ started with you,” Joel said, rounding on him. “You’re a fucking predator, chasing after her fuckin’ students while you’re here with her? Doing with them what you did with her, that it? Lucky I don’t beat the shit out of you…” 

“Joel, I…” you began, but you didn’t get the chance to finish, Gale pulling you back from Joel and going to hit him. 

Joel didn’t give him the chance, shoving him away from you before punching him again. Gale fell, landing on your desk again with a sharp crack. 

“Joel!” You yelled. 

He didn’t get a chance to respond. Instead, he got pulled back, security guards dragging him into the hall and away from you before he knew if he had a shot at really having you for the first time in his life.

Next Chapter

A/N: FUCK YOU GALE!

Sorry, I've been picturing that moment since I first thought up the fic. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!

Taglist: @kaseyconnour

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Hello, Mr. Monster 8

Summary: Eros and Psyche inspired Soulmate!AU, Morpheus x female OC/reader

Master list

Chapter Warnings: SMUT A/N: So... I did a sneaky in this chapter. First one to guess correctly gets a 500 word Sandman drabble (you can give me a prompt or let me go wild - your choice). This is the biggest tender!fuck I've ever seen. Like damn. It's an important beat between chapter arcs, and there are some themes/hints ya'll should really take note of. For reasons. All I want for my birthday are comments, my dears! <3 Thank you for your ongoing support.

8. Seal

What happened?

Creeping out of the fog, she swept together the distant pieces of her waking mind, looking for a thought, or a plan, or…

What happened?

She’d had a wonderful dream. Safe. Warm. Happy. If she could fall back asleep and drop back into that place – those arms – she would, but a sleeping mind never followed the same course. She was waking, and it was over.

But she didn’t remember going to bed.

That was all right. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d gotten drunk or collapsed after days without sleep. Not a problem.

But –

She hadn’t set her wards.

Her eyes snapped open, and her hand sprang out, reaching for the bag of black salt she always kept near her bed in the van. Anything could come, anything could already be there. As she jerked to consciousness, full of half-remembered terror – the mirror, the unseelie, her skin, the dress – long fingers caught her flailing hand. They wove seamlessly between her own, pulling her attention down to starry eyes. Soft lips pressed to her knuckles, calling her back from the brink of delirium.

“All is well.” Morpheus’ thumb rubbed along her throbbing pulse, distracting her from her panic with tactile affection. He read the beat as her memory settled, as she recalled where she was and what they’d shared. He must have felt the spiking rhythm, too, judging by his smirk.

He was beautiful. And definitely naked under the grey silk sheets that gathered over his waist.

She licked her lips, at a loss for words as the butterflies she thought she’d banished sprang back to life in her stomach.

“Hello.”

Yes. Excellent. Definitely the most romantic greeting after waking up for the first time in a lover’s bed. In her fucking eldritch soulmate’s apparent love nest, actually. So far as she could tell, they weren’t even in a room. She could see him easily, but beyond the place where they were lying, she could only see vague, bushy shapes that could’ve been clouds or trees. Lights flickered in them. Maybe stars. Possibly fireflies.

No visible exits. Not even a floor, in fact.

Though it wasn’t like she was in a rush to leave.

“Hello.”

Following his gentle tug, she sank back to rest on her side, facing him.

He was so beautiful. She’d already thought it, but damn if it wasn’t worth thinking twice. With his disheveled raven hair and self-satisfied expression, he looked at least half as debauched as she felt.

Which reminded her.

Oh shit.

She was naked, too.

Her free hand moved towards the sheets that had fallen all the way to her thighs when she sat up, but his disapproving pout made her second guess herself.

Covering bare skin was instinctual. Especially after everything she’d suffered in –

No, no. Not thinking of that. She physically shook her head to banish the flashes of pain and fear trying to manifest.

She was safe. She was happy. Her Dream was real, and she could be vulnerable with him in this world apart. Nothing would hunt her here. Nothing would dare. He would avenge and protect her.

Carefully, consciously, she let her hand drift from the sheets, and Morpheus smiled in the wake of her decision.

“My love,” he purred, looping an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him, “I want you.”

He nuzzled into her neck, kissing under her ear and finding new places her blood pounded under her skin. She found herself trying to remember language, how to speak in anything but sighs. Prince of Stories. Right. Whatever. Prince of Carnal Brainmelt more like. He made it impossible to think, working little bites over her flesh as he continued his eager assault, leaving her squirming, and desperate, and tongue-tied.

Even though she couldn’t see his eyes, she felt them burning far below her skin. Below flesh and bone. Stars were only cold because of their distance, and she was much too close to see them as anything but suns. She knew it was reckless to look, to stare back and let the heat blind her, but…

She couldn’t pull away now, even if she wanted to. He didn’t need prison bars and pansies to trap her.

Panting, she finally strung together an answer. “I want you, too.”

Her words brought him back to her lips, and he wasted no time licking into her mouth, sharing his heated groans. One hand slipped around to cradle her head. The one he’d used to reel her in crept down, brushing along her waist, squeezing her hip, and settling on her thigh. Strong fingers pulled her leg over his hip, and she groaned back into their kiss as his clear desire brushed her clit.

He didn’t press, only dragging himself through her folds as he explored her mouth. When she stopped for breath, he kissed under her chin, palm flexing just over her knee. She writhed with his slow strokes, enjoying the moment but far from satisfied.

“I need you.” Kissing his brow, his cheek, his lips, she sang her yearning. “I need you, Morpheus.”

Her words found him and burned the way his eyes flamed in her soul. She saw them kindling in his gaze as he pulled away to watch her face, swallowing every flicker of expression as he teased her entrance. And pushed inside.

The world hummed.

It was all beginnings and endings and discoveries. Dream was himself, and she was with him.

He moved so slowly, and she clung tight, shaking as the pleasure built with the inexorable pace of sunrise. Clutching his shoulder, his back, she fought to keep breathing, to keep her head above water as he pushed and pulled inside. Gods. He’d drown her, and she’d gladly find death here in his arms.

“You asked what I want.” He wasn’t as helpless to his physical manifestation as she was to her human body, but his rough voice proved how she affected him, and a sunburst of pride glowed in her breast. “Perhaps I was dishonest with myself. I want the measure of your dreams and your waking hours, too.”

He hunted for her fear, waiting for the golden moment to snap under the weight of his confession. His searching eyes flicked over hers, desperate but guarded. She didn’t know what to say. If she could say anything. But she wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t threatening her – this was an invitation. And she could only invite him back, let him feel the truths she couldn’t name yet.

Her hands settled on his face, trying to soothe the needles of anxiety, his anticipated despair. She offered more kisses, pulling at his lips, welcoming and reciprocating each touch in an effort to reach deeper. Too feel even more.

His grip on her thigh tightened, and he rolled half over her, leaving his sedate, almost drowsy lovemaking behind. Still tender, but openly needy, he picked up speed, using the new angle to his advantage.

She thought she’d been breathless before – fuck.

“I want… a life. A story. You.” He was begging. Commanding. On the cusp of claiming his own dream.

He didn’t take. He shared. They gave and met in true union, tasting elements beyond bodies to melt through time embrace destiny. A snare of their wyrds. A welcome loss wrapped in discovery.

Her heart would burst. There wasn’t enough of her to hold the love for something so vast as her monster, her Morpheus, and as he hiked her leg even higher on his waist, she grabbed him by the hair. She needed him. She needed his kiss, his breath, or she’d fall apart. He obliged, but she knew she’d go to pieces regardless.

As his thrusts grew more erratic, she broke.

The most exquisite destruction.

He pushed as deep as he could reach as she pulled out his own end, but he didn’t give her space to breathe. Rolling again so she was half draped – entirely boneless – over his chest, he kept his defiantly hard length inside. She’d have rest, but no peace.

Stroking her hair, he murmured into the crown of her head, “Stay, my love. I’m not ready to let you go.”

[charliedaltonswife]

going to the met with henry on winter break and him finding traces of you in each piece of art (the greek + roman wing, obvi!) you really are his helen, his platonic ideal. just ugh! henry’s pov, just silently swooning over you, really.

Art Everywhere

Henry Winter x reader (The Secret History)

thank you for the requestt

Summary: read the request

Warnings: none

master list found here

I do not know why I came here. It was the thing to do on break, I suppose. 

It was not planned. I was walking, thinking, and then I was here, standing beneath the great carved façade of the museum, the wind biting at my collar. I hesitated only a moment before stepping inside. There are places one returns to as a matter of ritual. Churches. Gravesites. Museums. I suspect all three fulfill much the same function.

I remove my gloves, tuck them into my coat pocket. The warmth of the museum is immediate, almost suffocating after the sharp winter air outside. People move in languid clusters, hushed voices barely rising above the echoing marble. I do not consult a map. I know the way.

The Greek and Roman wing has always been my favorite. It is vast, unhurried, flooded with cold light. The statues stand in their silent, shattered forms, bodies frozen in the white smoothness of marble, some missing hands or faces, yet still possessing an unearthly grace. The air smells of old stone and something faintly metallic, like dust on ancient pages.

I walk past the busts first, their eyes blank, lips fixed in a language I cannot decipher. And then, as if drawn by some unconscious thread, I turn a corner and see it, the place where I have found you before.

The bench remains where it always is, low against the cool stone of the floor. The statue before it is familiar. A woman, poised, her robes clinging to her as if caught in a frozen wind, her gaze lifted slightly as if she sees something in the distance that no one else can. I remember the last time I found you here. The way you had sat, one leg folded beneath you, a book balanced on your knee, reading without ever turning the page. I had not spoken, just watched, and even now, I can recall the way the light had caught the barest glint of gold at your wrist.

The bench is empty now, without you. I think of sitting, instead I glance at the statue again, something sharp twisting in my chest. I move on.

The corridors stretch before me, high-arched and quiet. Footsteps echo in slow rhythms. I trace the path through the galleries with an absent familiarity. Past the friezes. Past the reconstructed ruins. Past the mosaic floor, where I had once pointed out the fading outlines of a hunt, a stag frozen mid-leap.

There are pieces here that remind me of you.

I hate the thought, and yet it does not leave me. The delicate curvature of a hand, the tilt of a head, the knowing smirk on a fragment of carved lips. It is ridiculous, really. These are nothing but remnants, marble and dust, and yet I find myself pausing in front of them, studying them as if they might provide some answer I have not yet thought to ask.

I do not look for you, and yet I find you everywhere. In the marble, in the half-light, in the curve of a sculpture’s throat where the chisel has softened the stone into something impossibly lifelike. You are not here, not really, and yet I see you in the art that has survived centuries of ruin.

I turn a corner and there she is, Aphrodite, luminous even in ruin. The statue stands tall, her form partially eroded, the smoothness of her stomach interrupted by a jagged fracture. The delicate slope of her shoulders, the faint suggestion of movement in her stance, one foot slightly forward, as if stepping toward something unseen. I have stood before this piece before, but never like this. Never with the quiet, uneasy recognition that settles over me now.

There is something of you in her.

Not in the way most would think, her beauty, yes, but not the kind that can be reduced to symmetry and proportion. It is something more ephemeral, more difficult to define. The way you tilt your head in thought, the way light moves against your skin, the way your gaze lingers on things that others overlook. You exist in the margins, in the delicate balance between presence and absence, and here you are again, carved in stone, looking back at me with the same knowing distance.

I exhale, slow and measured, as if that might rid me of the thought.

I do not believe in fate. Nor in reincarnation, nor in souls split and scattered through time, drawn back to one another across centuries. These are the things you would say in jest, half-serious, your fingers tracing the edges of a book as you read something impossibly old. “Tell me you don’t see it,” you would say, grinning, holding up a page of something translated from a dead language, some poet’s desperate plea for love immortalized in ink.

I never humored you.

And yet here I stand, before a woman carved from stone two thousand years ago, and I see you.

It is maddening.

I turn away sharply and keep walking.

The museum is silent but for the occasional murmur of other visitors, the distant clicking of shoes against marble. I move past statues draped in robes that have not moved in millennia, past fragmented figures frozen mid-motion, past the hollowed-out spaces where eyes once were, their gazes lost to time. And still, you remain.

I do not like the way it unsettles me. The way it follows me through each room, lingering like an unanswered question. I should leave. But I do not.

Instead, I keep walking, waiting for the moment when I will stop seeing you in the ruins of things long gone. The ache I feel for you is unnatural, something that tears my core morals and ethics apart, leaves me naked, bare and vulnerable. It is as if my skin is translucent and you can see right through me, understand me in a way I can not myself. 

Before I can continue my thought, I stop at a rather large painting adorning the wall, large enough to fill the entirety of it. The painting is not one I had planned to linger before, nor does it carry the same weight as the grand mythological scenes, the violent ecstasies of Caravaggio, the stoic tragedies of Poussin. It is quieter, more restrained, almost domestic in its simplicity. A Roman fresco, salvaged from the ruins of a villa outside Pompeii. A woman in a garden.

She stands beneath the shade of a fig tree, the folds of her tunic caught in a breeze long since passed. The painter has softened her features, a faint smile hovering at the corner of her lips, as if she is on the verge of laughter, as if she has just heard something amusing and is waiting to see if the joke will land. There is something unguarded about her, something unposed, a rare informality in the otherwise rigid canon of antiquity.

And, God help me, I see you.

Not just in the painting itself, but in something deeper, something lodged within memory.

You, last spring.

The first real warmth of the season settling over campus, coaxing everyone out of their dimly lit corners and onto the green. You had abandoned your shoes somewhere in the grass, your ankles crossed as you sat beneath a tree, flipping through a book with only half your attention. Francis was beside you, making some remark, something deliberately absurd, and you laughed.

It was that laugh, the one that started small, bubbling up before you could stop it, your head tilting back just slightly, sunlight catching on your cheekbone.

And I remember, with almost unbearable clarity, the way my breath caught in my throat at the sound. You exist in the periphery of my life like a half-remembered verse, untouchable, but always there, shaping the silence between my thoughts.

It had unsettled me at the time. A reaction too instinctive, too immediate. I had told myself it was nothing, some strange trick of the moment, some lingering trace of exhaustion, but the lie had not sat comfortably.

And now, here you are again. Or, rather, a version of you, painted two thousand years before you ever set foot on this earth. You are a thought experiment, a study in impossible ideals, never mine, never meant to be, but still written into the margins of every text I have ever loved.

The resemblance is not exact; it never is. It is not in the line of her jaw or the curve of her nose, not in anything so concrete. It is in the way she stands, the way she waits, the way she holds the air around her like an unspoken challenge.

And it is in the knowledge, cold and inescapable, that if you had been born in another time, in another place, some artist might have painted you this way. Preserved you in pigments mixed from crushed stone and ash.

There is something unbearable in the thought.

I do not know how long I stand there, how much time passes before I force myself to move. It is only when I hear the faint rustle of fabric, someone shifting beside me that reminds me to glance down at my watch, that I become aware of how still I have been.

I exhale, long and slow, and turn away.

I dream of you, laughing beneath a fig tree, sunlight dappling across your face; you are my history, my philosophy. I realized I can never escape you, but I was content with that. For you are my art, my everything.

[justwhisperingfantasies]

@jarpadversebingo

Square filled: Secrets

@alphabetquest

Title Credit: "The Unforgiven" Metallica

Prompt: Maybe This Was A Bad Idea.

Word Count: 855

Pairing :Sam Winchester x Fem Reader

Warnings : Language, Drinking Demon Blood, Angst, Heart Break, Cannon With a Twist.

Summary: Sammy Has Some Heartbreaking Secrets.

Special Thank To @copperboom82 My Forever Beta Bestie 🫶

My Master List

My Tag List

You couldn't move, couldn't speak, could barely even breath as you stood there watching him.

The fear that you have had now confronting you as the demon blood dripped from his chin.

Something changed in Sam the day Dean was dragged to hell, and you watched it show a little more every day. Bobby told you to cut him some slack, he just lost his brother, he would come around. But that one night you may have pushed just a little too hard, was the night that he left. You would never forget how he left you alone, crying in Bobby’s drive way.

Of course they tracked you down when Dean came back. Those boys would be lost without you and Bobby. You loved them though; despite everything Dean was family and Sam Winchester would always have your heart. So it wasn’t a shock to anyone when you caved and rejoined their quest to save the world, even if it was damned.

It was small things at first, his facts not adding up, his stories not how you remembered them.

Then the sneaking around started. Honestly you thought he had just found someone else and was too much of a coward to say it. How you wished that’s what was going on.

Dean was suspicious, but you never could tell if he believed you or Sam.

‘Well I guess none of that really mater now, though.’ you thought

“Don’t...” you murmured as Sam started to step towards you, and you looked over to Dean. “I gotta go.” He nodded.

You watched Sam's face twist into shame and hurt as you walked passed him, toward the door.

Once you were alone your walls crumbled, letting out every emotion you felt - anger, heartbreak, fear, guilt… they were all so over whelming.

Your sobs were cut short when you heard the open again.

“You ok?” Surprise hit you when you heard Dean’s voice.

“Honestly, no.”

“I have a plan, but you’re not going to like it.”

You sighed. “I am willing to do anything, at this point.”

“So, let’s have it.” Sam said trying to cut the tension in the Impala.

You and Dean glanced at each other in the rearview mirror.

“Have what, Sammy?’ Dean replied.

“Have the screaming match, me vs you two.”

“There’s not gonna be a screaming match, Sam,” Dean murmured.

“Oh come on, you saw what I did. Stop the car, take a swing.”

Dean lightly scoffed “I’m not going to take a swing.”

Sam’s body twisted to you. “You’re being awfully quiet back there?” You looked up at him then back to the floorboard. “You must have something you wanna say.”

You pushed his hand away as it touched your knee.

“I don’t,” you managed to choke out.

“After all the secrets, all the lies, everything I put you through, nothing?”

Your eyes met his again. “What do you want me to say, Sam?”

“Tell me how pissed you are, tell me how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” You swallowed hard. “I just don’t care.”

You watched the tears begin to well in his eyes as he searched yours.

“And you got nothing?” he turned back to Dean.

“You want me to say how disappointed I am?”

“For starters...”

“Yeah, I am Sammy, but man. I’m just tired.” Dean took a deep breath. “I’m so damn tired and so done.”

Sam sighed as his cell phone began to ring.

“Hey Bobby.” Sam’s brows furrowed as he listened. “Why? What’s going on?”

Dean looked over to Sam.

“Alright. We’re on our way.” Sam closed his phone and put it back in her pocket.

“What did he say?” Dean asked.

“He found something, wants us there, now.”

Dean responded by hitting the gas pedal and turning the wheel, making Baby do a U-turn in the middle of the interstate.

The queasy feeling bubbled up in your throat as the four of you approached the panic room

“Thanks for shaking a tail.” Bobby stated.

“Not a problem, Bobby.” Dean told him

“Go on in, there’s something I want to show you.”

Sam walked into the panic room. Dean caught your arm as your started to follow him, guiding you behind him.

“All right. So, uh, what's the big demon problem?” Sam asked as he gestured around the room.

“You are.” Bobby said as he slammed the door shut, locking it.

“Guys? Hey, hey. What?” Sam stammered pulling on the bars of the window in the door.

“This is for your own good Sammy.” Dean told him as he closed the window.

“This isn't funny.” Sam yelled “Guys! Hey! Guys?”

“y/n!”

Your feet stopped on the stairs when you heard your name.

“Baby, please.” Sam pleaded

“Maybe this was a bad idea” you said looking up to Dean and Bobby.

“It’s for his own good, sweetheart.” Dean reassured you as he echoed his words.

Tag List

@mochminnie @quietgirll75 @nightxcreature @namcymcl @hunter-or-the-hunted @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @deansimpalababy @roseblue373 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @spnaquakindgdom

[writing-blog-iguess]

Online Matchup 7

Summery: It’s Jason’s first gala since he came back to Gotham. As expected, he’s n a little nervous. But don’t worry, you’re there to help him get through it.

Warning: fluff, swearing

Words: 4.2 k

A/N: So, here's the long awaited gala scene. Feedback is always welcome and Enjoy!

Taglist: @xoxoyourdoll @teapartydreams

ao3

Series master list

————

October 29

Jason (10:30 am) *sent a picture of the two of you cuddling on your couch*

Y/N When the fuck did you take that?

Jason Such language And so early in the day

Y/N First of all, you swear just as much as I do so shut And second of all, answer the question Jason

Jason But you know the answer We fell asleep on the couch last week

Y/N But we didn’t cuddle We were on the opposite sides of the couch!

Jason You’re right But somewhere in the night That happened

Y/N I do not remember that

Jason Because I got off the couch before you woke up Didn’t want you to be embarrassed

Y/N Sir, I call bullshit You love making me flustered

Jason That maybe so, but I needed the bathroom I tried to wake you up But man, you sleep like the dead

Y/N I’m very proud

Jason No kidding So, what are you up to today?

Y/N Homework, probably Clean the apartment Been slacking with that lately And with the party that’s happening on Tuesday, I need to make sure things are put away before they can break

Jason You don’t strike me as a party person

Y/N I am not My friend loves to throw Halloween parties And it’s usually at my place

Jason And you're okay with it?

Y/N We have a deal I let her throw it at my place She has to clean it up the day after

Jason But Halloween is on a Tuesday Don’t you guys have classes the next day?

Y/N Yup and she knows that I take great pleasure in seeing her clean while hungover She’s going to do a shit job cause she’ll be rushing But she wanted it on Halloween

Jason You’re a bit of a sadist aren’t you?

Y/N Only with my friends and they do that themselves I wanted to hold it yesterday But noooooo, it has to be on Halloween

Jason Your friends sound lovely

Y/N Don’t get me wrong They are but sometimes it feels like I have all the brain cells

Jason That’s hard to believe Sometimes I think you don’t have any

Y/N Wow WOW Guess you’re not invited to the party anymore

Jason That’s okay I probably couldn’t make it

Y/N Helping your brothers again?

Jason I plead the fifth

Y/N You ain’t slick I see you

Jason (3:40 am) Finished everything you wanted to get done today?

Y/N Cleaning, yes Homework, no

Jason How come you're always doing homework?

Y/N I don’t know if you’ve noticed But I’m in school And in order to pass and get my degree I need to hand in my assignments

Jason Lame

Y/N That’s just rude Why do you wanna know? Planning to have a sleepover again

Jason No Just curious

Y/N That’s a little sus babe

Jason I didn’t know we were up to pet names now

Y/N I retract the pet name If we started using pet names, I wouldn’t start with bade

Jason Looking forward to hearing what you’ll use

Y/N Mm, we’ll see

A series of knocking woke you up from your accidental nap. Blinking wearily, you tried to figure out what had woken you up.  The knocking started again, and you let your head lull in that direction. “Okay, okay. I’m coming, I’m coming,” you grumbled, as you slowly got off the couch. 

You pulled the blanket from the couch and wrapped it around your shoulders as you made your way to the door. Unlocking it, you pulled the door open and blinked at a very well-dressed Jason. 

“Was there a date we agreed to that I somehow forgot about?” you asked and moved out of the way when Jason let himself in. 

“What? No, why would you say that?” he asked, pacing around the living room. You closed the door and turned around, meekly gesturing to his outfit.  

“You’re in a tux.” 

“Huh?” he said and looked down. “Oh. Yeah no, this is for something else.” “Okay…? Can I help you with something then?” 

“So, there’s this gala tonight,” Jason said, going back to pacing, “and it’s the first one I’m attending. And Bruce has the idea of making a statement that I wasn’t actually dead.” 

“So, it’s the dead coming back to life thing,” you mused, “does Bruce have a story?” 

“Yup. He has everything planned but I-” 

“You’re not ready to be integrated back into society,” you finished and he merely nodded. “What me to come with? Act as your buffer?” That had stopped Jason’s pacing and he turned towards you in surprise. 

 “You’d do that?” he asked, shrugging. “You’ll be in front of cameras. You’ll meet my family for the first time.” 

“I know,” you said, hiding how nervous you were at the thought of meeting them for the time. “But you need help, and maybe someone in your corner.” 

“But you don’t know the full story.” 

“I don’t need it to help you.” 

“I could kiss you.” 

“I’ll count this as date two,” you said, smiling when he snorted. “What time do you need to be there?” 

Jason looked at his watch before answering. “Twenty minutes.”

“Give me ten.”

“There’s no way you’ll be ready in time,” Jason said, and you ignored him in favour of going to the bathroom. 

“We’ll see about that,” you muttered as you started the shower. 

Shower done, and hair dried, you wrapped a towel around you and quickly made your way to the bedroom. Jason had the decency of looking away when he saw you coming out of the bathroom.

If there was one thing about Jason, he was a gentleman and it was something you liked about him.

You closed the door behind you, and went through your closet until you found the dressing bag. Taking it out, you unzipped it, wanting to know if there was anything it needed before putting it on. To your relief, there wasn't.

Putting it on, you did one final check to make sure everything was good before going to the living room.

“Well, I stand corrected,” Jason said when he heard the bedroom door open. “That was less than-wow,” he breathed out when he looked up to see you standing there. “You look fantastic.”

Putting your hands behind your back, you swayed a little, looking a little shy. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he answered, giving you a smile. “Are you sure you want to do this? We can stay here and have a movie marathon. We don't have to.”

“Yeah, but you’ll be delaying the inevitable,” you said, making your way to him. Standing in front of him, you took his hands and squeezed. “I know you're not ready for it, and you probably never will. But I’ll be there with you the entire night. You just need to trust me that I will.”

Jason’s eyes softened and he cupped your face, thumb gently stroking your cheeks. “I do,” he whispered. You smiled and turned your head slightly and kissed his palm.

“Then let’s go make the best out of a shitty situation.”

The ride to the venue was a lot shorter than you had anticipated. But the drive was spent in silence as the both of you mentally prepared yourselves for the night.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were getting yourself into, but you planned to see this through.

Jason slowly made his way through the line and pulled the car in park when it was your turn to get out. Before you could reach for the handle, Jason’s hand tightened around yours, stopping you from moving.

Sitting back, you turned to Jason. “Everything okay?”

“Are you sure about this?” Jason asked, and your eyes softened. “I mean it, we can turn around and do something else.”

“I’m sure,” you said, leaning over slightly. “But if you're not ready, I’m sure Bruce would understand the situation.”

“It's not what I’m worried about,” he said, “the life of a Wayne can be pretty hectic. With being in the public, everyone’s eyes are on you. I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable when the media tries to find who you are. I…I don’t want you to leave because of them.”

“We’ll, it’s a good thing I don't care what people think,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I doubt they’ll follow you around. The tabloids are more interested in Bruce Wayne than they are of his kids. And when it’s focused on them, it’s usually at events like these or if they did something newsworthy.” You paused, biting your lip when you realized you might have gone too far. “Um, no offense.”

Jason laughed, shaking his head. “None taken. Ready?”

“Ready when you are,” you answered, squeezing his hand one more time. He gave it a kiss and told you to stay in the car for a moment. You watched as he left, and walked around the car only to open your door.

“My lady,” he teased, holding out his hand to you. You took it with a smile, and stepped out of the car, ignoring the shouts and the camera flashes.

“My good sir,” you teased back, linking your arm through his. Leaning over slightly to whisper in Jason’s ear, “do we need to stay for pictures?”

“No, we can just go in,” Jason answered and led the way. You tightened your grip on his arm as you followed and swallowed down your nerves. “Ready?”

“Never going to stop asking that tonight?” you asked, shooting him a teasing smile.

“When it comes to your well-being? Never.”

“My knight in shining armor.”

“I thought that would be Red Hood,” he questioned as the two of you walked through the doors. He laughed when you hit his chest, grumbling that you should have never told him about your little crush on the hero.

“Shut up,” you whined, though happy to see him in better spirits. “So, are there any rules I need to follow before I make a fool out of myself?”

“I don’t think you could ever make a fool out of yourself,” Jason said, looking around. As if he was looking for someone to avoid or to say hello to.

“Well, clearly you don’t know me very well,” you said, guiding him to the bar you spotted when walking in. “At some point or another, I can and will embarrass myself. If given the change.”

“Then I’ll make sure you don’t have a chance. What are you doing?” he asked when he noticed where he was. 

“Getting a drink,” you answered like it was obvious. You turned to the bartender about to order.

“Aren’t you a little young to be drinking?” Jason asked before you could. You sent him a pointed look, with a shake of your head.

“I’m like, a few months younger than you. What do you think? I’ll have water please,” you said to the bartender, shooting her a smile. She returned it and went to get your drink. “Make those two please?”

“Not a problem.”

“You’re so weird,” he stated, watching as you retrieved the glasses when they were set in front of you. He took the glass you were offering, and held it.

“Yet here we are,” you said, taking a sip. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Before you could reply to Jason, a voice called from behind you. The both of you turned and you hid your laugh behind your hand at the look Jason made.

“Well, that didn’t take long for them to find me,” he muttered, turning away as his brothers, well at least that’s who you think they were, walked towards you.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” you reminded him, holding his hand that wasn’t holding the cup. 

“Was hoping to spend a little more time with you before my idiot brothers found us,” Jason muttered into his cup. 

“Yeah, but you get to take me home when it’s all over and done with,” you reminded and took great pleasure in watching him get flustered. Clearing his throat, he took a sip from his cup before shooting you a dark look.

“Careful Little Bird, or you’re going to give a gentleman the wrong meaning,” he whispered. A shiver ran down your spine at the meaning and you quickly averted your gaze.

“Hey, Jason! So glad you made it,” one of his brothers said as they reached you. He patted Jason’s shoulder and he shrugged it off, frowning.

“It's not like Bruce gave me much of a choice,” he answered, “where is he anyways?”

“Taking care of last-minute details at work,” he answered, causing Jason to roll his eyes. You get the feeling they’re talking about something else. 

Minding your business, you take another sip, letting your gaze roam around the room. It only turned back when a hand was thrust in front of you.

You gazed at the hand and followed its path until you were met with the smiling brother. “Hello,” you greeted, hesitantly shaking the offered hand.

“Hi, who’s this Jay?” The brother asked. You squinted at him, recalling if you’ve ever met him before. You haven’t, but something about him seems familiar.

“My date,” he answered curtly. Letting go of your hand, you mourned the loss of contact until he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Y/N, this is Dick.”

“Dick Grayson at your service,” he greeted, smiling widely at you.

“Hi,” you repeated, squinting at him slightly. “You're the cop brother out in Bludhaven.”

Dick eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Yeah, that’s me. I didn’t know Jason talks about me.”

“Not just you,” you corrected, “he talks about all of his siblings.” And made a noise when you felt Jason pinch your side.

“All good things I hope,” a different brother said, popping his head out from behind Dick. “Tim Drake.”

“No, he usually complains about the shit you’ve guys pulled,” you said, making them laugh. “You’re the asshole who gave Conner my number.”

“That would be me,” he said proudly, grinning. “How’d you find out?”

“My sister’s dating Conner and she got it out of him,” you explained, “I hope you know I’m getting my revenge.”

Tim narrowed his eyes at you, as if he was sizing you up. You only raised an eyebrow and met his stare. “I doubt it,” he finally said with a snort.

“I don’t think you know who you’re messing with,” Jason said, “don’t underestimate them.”

“Why? Because they’re dating you?”

“Sir, I don’t need anyone to fight my battles for me,” you interrupted, “I’m the oldest of four, majoring in engineering. But you already know that since you’ve been snooping in my life.”

“Not much of a life though, is it?” 

“Maybe, and that’s okay,” you said with a shrug. “Though before you write me off, ask Conner what happened during spirit week his freshman year.”

That made him nervous, like he knew what you meant. Smiling sweetly, you reached out and patted his head. “You don’t want to make an enemy out of me,” you said and turned to the shorter of the group.

“Demon spawn?” you questioned without thinking. There was a brief moment of silence before everyone but you and the youngest started laughing. He scowled and you downed your drink wishing that it was something stronger. You set it down and hide your face in your hands, groaning. “Oh no, please don’t tell me I actually said that.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Jason apologized, but he didn’t sound apologetic at all. 

“You aren’t that far off though,” Tim piped up. 

“I am so so sorry,” you said, voice sounding a bit muffled, “I didn’t mean to say that, I don’t know why that came out.”

“I have no doubt that Todd had any help with that,” he said, clearing his throat he crossed his arms and introduced himself. “It's Damian Wayne, the only son of Bruce Wayne.”

“Y/N,” you muttered out, finally dropping your hands from your face. “And probably. Every time Jason talks about you, he doesn't say your name.”

“Okay, don’t tell them all my secrets now,” Jason teased, squeezing you into his sides. 

“The night’s still young,” Dick said with a smile, “who knows what secrets they might spill.”

You turned to Jason, and poked his cheek until he turned to look at you. “Shoot me, if I say anything embarrassing about myself or you tonight, just shoot me. I’m okay with that,” you said with a serious face. 

“Sorry sweetie, no can do,” he said with a smile. “I like you too much to do that.” Hanging your head in defeat, you sighed.

“Damn,” you sighed, “guess I’ll suffer then.”

“That’s okay, I’ll suffer with you,” Jason said, leaning over and hiding his face in his hair. You could feel the smile that he was trying to hide. 

“At least that’s a plus,” you couldn’t help saying. That caused another round of laughter. You smiled; happy it was going better than what you expected. “I thought you had another brother, and like two sisters?”

“We do, they just couldn’t make it today,” Dick was quick to say. You raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. 

“I thought it was a mandatory thing for your family. Having to come to these fancy parties.”

“Sometimes, but when Bruce gives some of us a free pass when the need arises,” Jason explained. “But I’m sure if they knew you’d be here, they’d be here too,” Jason quickly added when you frowned.

“Man, I was really hoping to actually meet Stephanie,” you said, and shrugged. “Maybe next time.”

“There you all are,” a voice called from behind. You all turned to see Bruce standing behind Dick, smiling. “Ah, you must be Y/N I’ve heard so much about.” You doubted that for a minute, knowing Jason isn’t one to share things with his family. Then you looked at Tim and things started to make sense. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

You shook his head when he offered, and smiled at it. “Nice to meet you too Mr. Wayne.”

“I’d love to stay and chat, but I need Jason for a moment,” he said, turning to Jason, “are you ready?”

“Do we really need to do this?” he asked, and made a face when Bruce nodded. “Alright. Are you going to be okay for a while?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you reassured with a smile. “I’ll find you later.”

You were wrong, so very wrong. The minute Bruce and Jason left your hearing range, his brothers turned on you like vultures circling their next meal. You weren’t sure how long you stood there answering questions you didn’t know how to answer.

When you finally managed to escape, you took a breath and began your search for Jason. You found him talking with Bruce and a reporter. 

Quietly standing beside him, you grabbed his hand and ignored the conversation they were having. Jason squeaked your hand in acknowledgement, and you smiled, leaning your head on his arm.

After a moment, the reporter and Bruce excused themselves and Jason turned to you. “You doing okay?”

Taking back your hand, you moved it to cupped his cheeks and squished his cheeks together. Jason tried to smile, but it looked a little lopsided squished between your hands. “Never leave me alone with your brothers again.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” he muttered out with a laugh.

“They grilled me like I was a bad guy,” you said, “and I felt like it too. Jason, I am not the bad guy. I felt like one of those creeps that the heroes fight and needed information on something I couldn’t give them. I don’t want to feel like that again, had me questioning if I was right for you or not.”

“Not being overly dramatic?” Jason asked, and you squished his face more in retaliation. “Okay. I get it,” he said, grabbing your hands and moving them off his face. “That was wrong of them for making you feel like that. No one should go through what you just did.”

“Like I get, they’re your family and they want what’s best for you, you know? Like they care about you, and I get that Dick is looking out for you. But Tim? The dude told me I could do so much better than you and Damian? I’m pretty sure he said that you could do better than me? I don’t know, I stopped listening to them at a certain point.”

“Well, they shouldn’t have said that to begin with at all. And I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Jason said, you waved away his worry.

“No, no, you probably could. But that’s not the point, the point is they could be very good cops if they wanted to,” you said, “it felt like an interrogation. And I hope that I never have to do that again when I meet your sisters.”

“At this rate, I don’t think you will,” he said and you looked up at him in confusion. “Don’t worry about it. Come on, let's dance.”

“But I don’t know how to,” you said as Jason started pulling you to the dance floor.

“Don’t worry about it. All you have to do is follow my lead,” he said, twirling you around until you stood in front of him. You looked up, squinting at him. He laughed, guiding your hands to his shoulders before putting his hands on your waist. “Don’t look at me like that, I know how to dance.”

“Oh, I got that. I’m just surprised,” you said, doing as he said and following him as he started dancing.

“I’m full of surprises, Birdie.”

“So, how long do we have to stay here?” you asked after dancing in silence. Jason raised his eyebrows at you.

“You want to leave already? Feels like we just got here,” he countered. Shaking your head, you looked around before meeting his eyes.

“Don’t lie. I’m not sure how long we’ve been here but it has got to be an hour maybe,” you guessed, “and not yet. But I’m getting hungry and I haven’t found any food around. I thought they had food at these events.”

“They usually do,” he said, looking around to see if he could find any. “But it looks like they are either going to the kitchens to get some more, or there is none.”

“Man, that’s a shame. I’m starving.”

“I thought you ate earlier?”

“Nope. When you came over, I was taking a nap. I haven’t eaten since lunch, and even then, it was just a bag of chips,” you said. Jason sent you a disapproving look making you smile sheepishly. 

“You need to take better care of yourself. But we can leave whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ll leave when you’re ready too,” you said through a yawn. “Who knows? Maybe you have to do more interviews or speak to the crowd or something.”

“Nope, I’m done talking to people,” he explained, “all I have to do is stand beside Bruce when he’s giving the speech to everyone. After that we can leave.”

The two of you danced two move dances, before someone announced that Bruce had an announcement to make. You came to a stop, and you watched as Jason sighed. “Well, that’s my cue.”

“I’ll be standing front row where you could see me,” you reminded him, “I won’t be far.”

“You, Birdie are a godsend,” he said, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Careful there, Jason. Treat someone like that, they’re gonna think they’re really special to you,” you retorted, reaching up to pat his cheek gently.

“Maybe they already are,” he said and left, leaving you flustered. You covered your face with your hands and silently screamed. There was something about Jason that made you feel cared for, and you weren’t quite sure how to deal with.

Pushing away those feelings for now, you collected yourself and turned to make your way towards the growing crowd.

After a minute of politely pushing your way through the crowd, you found yourself standing beside Jason's brothers. Not one to be rude, you smiled hello to them and turned to the front where Jason was standing a little bit behind Bruce. You gave Jason a small wave, which he returned before Bruce started talking.

You tried to listen as Bruce told the story he had come up with, but your mind kept wandering to your relationship with Jason, and where it might lead to. The thought of the future was scary, but you couldn’t see a future without him. Maybe the two of you were going a little fast, but you found that you didn’t care as much as you should.

If he’s the one, why overthink it?

Soon enough, clapping brought you out of your thoughts. Shaking your head, you joined in the clapping and slipped away from his brothers before they decided to go for a round two.

“Wasn’t so bad, right?” you asked once you reached him. He shrugged and grabbed your hand before pulling you towards an exit.

“Would have been a lot better if you were standing with me,” he answered, “but yeah. It was okay. Now, ready for some burgers?”

“More than ready.” 

[simpcityy]

My Little Spawn Pt.6 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)

Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 960

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, violence, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game, mentions of blood, animal death...Uhhh...I think that is all. MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU AREN'T IN ACT 2 YET.

Author Notes: Hello everyone, another short chapter for this week but next week I am going to focus on the new story I want to publish soon while. Thank you so much for the support! I should be updating the master list with all the links of each chapter. Remember to Reblog and like if you enjoy this series.

You looked at Astarion as the group was having a meeting of what they have done so far. “So we slayed an old hag, killed a Gur, defeated some Gnolls, met a devil and killed other creatures we came across and you still want us to rescue this Halsin guy?” He complained, crossing his arms. “He can be our ticket to curing this tadpole.” Tav stubbornly kept the same plan, recusing Halsin. You tugged at his arm “ Astarion, if we save the mister, we won’t have that yucky worm.” You tried to cheer him up. “See, that’s the spirit little soldier!” Kalarch smiles, “You should listen to them Fangs.”  Astarion only mutters looking down at you before picking you up “ I guess you are right but I won’t be happy if this Halsin can’t do anything. Just wasted time is all. We could’ve been in Baldur’s Gate by now.” He walks off to his tent with you in his arms. 

  How Astarion hated that he was right, after a long brutal battle, Halsin wasn’t any help. He stood at his tent sipping the cheap and awful wine. He wasn’t even in the mood for a celebration. He scanned the camp seeing the tieflings and his odd companions celebrating for taking down the leaders. He turns his head hearing your giggles as Scratch is chasing you around. He turns over to Tav as they walk over. He smirks and puts on an act “You know, I never picture myself as a hero.”

You were by the lake looking out to the moon. Scratch was long gone resting after playing with you. You boredly threw rocks into the lake before looking over hearing something shuffle in the bushes. You walked off into the woods that surround the campsite. There is a sweet scent in the air and you wanted to find out what it is. Getting closer and closer to the sweet smell before a gloved hand grabbed you from behind. Your tadpole was squirming. “Let me go! Astarion” You yelled before the headache got worse before going to a deep sleep. Someone else has had a wiggly worm like yours and made you go into a deep sleep. 

The following morning, Astarion walked back to camp watching Tav head back to their own tent because anyone else wakes up. He walked into his but stopped seeing it empty “Oh Little spawn, where are you?” He hums “Having a sleepover without telling me?” He hums to himself and lays down on the bedroll. He pulls back out the book and continues reading till everyone else wakes up.A couple minutes passed and he heard the shuffling of everyone stirring away. He lets out a chuckle knowing some of them might be hungover. He gets himself changed and walks out seeing everyone but he keeps looking for his little spawn. “Have you seen (Y/N)?” He walks over to the Wizard. Gale looks up “No…last time I saw them was last night playing with Scratch.” He looks around “Maybe she stayed with Shadowheart?” He goes back to cooking breakfast. The pale elf walks over to the Cleric. “No, I haven’t seen her since last night.” Shadowheart says “but maybe that gith might know” She was already pointing fingers. Astarion was slowly panicking, no one knows where the hells you were. He quickly downs a potion of animal speaking and walks over to Scratch. “Where is (Y/N)?” He stood in front of the dog. Scratch tilts his head “(Y/N) was last seen by the lake before I went off to rest?” He begins to sniff the ground and runs into the woods. Astarion follows quickly, and looks around seeing your small footsteps along with larger ones. “No….” He whispers. Scratch barks looking up at him “The scent goes through this path.” He walks off sniffing the ground. Astarion only stood still, his mind wondering who took you. Was there a goblin that they didn’t kill, did another Gur hunter found you? He was brought back down to earth hearing someone calling his name. “Astarion what’s the matter.” Tav walks over with the rest of the group. “(Y/N)...they…they were taken…” He whispers before stabbing his dagger to the tree frowning. “ This…this..is all your fault.” He looks at tav refusing to believe it was his own fault. Pulling back the dagger, he walks off following Scratch who was on your trail. Everyone else watching him walk off, seeing how a few days together alone, you have impacted greatly on his life. 

You were placed in a dark jail cell, the trip was a long one. When you woke up, all you could do was wail and hug yourself. “I wanna go home!” You cried. You quickly kept quiet as the big door opens and hear heavy footsteps. “What’s this general?” You only push yourself closer to the corner scared. “ My soldiers told me about this young one with a tadpole. I had to see myself.” You look over whimpering and flinch as the door to your cell opens. “So young and tell me why are they here? When this isn’t part of our plan Ketheric.” Ketheric looks over “ Someone did some digging into her tadpole, they aren’t just a human child with a tadpole but a dhampir Gortash.” This puts a smile on Gortash's face, “Such a beautiful creature” He looks down at you. “Bring them with you to the city when your part of the plan is done…we can use them as part of our plan.” He added before walking off. Both men walk off locking the cell once again. You only whimper crying out softly “I wanna go home” You whisper “Astarion” You cried out in the empty cell.

[thewritersaddictions]

Requests: The Witcher: Geralt of Rivia- Spellbound

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Reader & Ciri x Platonic!Fem!Reader

Pov: Geralt Of Rivia/ Ciri

Warnings: Mages, magic, fighting, Kaer Morhen, Angst, Fluff, memorial statues, death/revival, female witcher!Reader, falling back into love, happy family vibes.

Summary: The only female witcher is frozen in time at Kaer Morhen, but when Geralt brings Ciri there, something magical and extraordinary happens. Reuniting two past lovers.

A/n- @ firefly-graphics for dividers; this is a request.

WC- 2.4k

Requests Master List // The Witcher Master List // The Heros Master List

The first and last female witcher statue stands in the middle of Kaer Morhen. It’s a daily reminder of my failure to protect her and that I must try to be better for her sake. Vesmir had been a helping hand when I lost her. He was the only father figure I had, and I was more than grateful when he chose to have the stone figure of her placed in Kaer Morhen. It was a reminder of how little there were of Witchers like us, but also that love was forever. 

It just stung too much, and I needed to leave Kaer Morhen. Spring was starting a new, and with that, paths and plans were already ready to be brought to action. I packed my little things and took Roach back on the dirty trails that were now not covered in inches of snow. Yet, this path led to a world I’d instead have never been a part of. A law of surprise that leads to a child. A child born to be the princess of Cintra. 

Many more happened before I knew the law of surprise would put her and me on the same path. I’m more than surprised when it leads me straight to her. In an effort to firstly protect the princess and secondly help her because the duty has sadly fallen to me due to the war. I bring her to Kaer Morhen. I get her there to learn and to be supported by Vesmir; then again, I’m reminded of a promise that I must protect Ciri in every possible way, as I couldn’t do so for Y/n. 

Y/n statue stares at me. Her frozen, hurt face, I can hear the echo of screams and how quickly they were cut off before I could make it to the fight. Her beauty hasn’t left her face. A smile that is in the back of my head, but her voice. That beautiful voice. The only thing that could lull me to sleep and keep my spirits high was fading ever so quickly in my mind. All I had left of her were the memories and the statue. Her dress flew in the wind as she was frozen head to toe. 

It had been a mage, an unhappy mage, that had followed us to the mountainside. I remember it now being about me. The memorial was about many things. Y/n had been the only female witcher, so for one, it was a remembrance of that fact alone. Y/n had also said that if she ever died, in battle or at home, she would love to be able to gaze at the morning sunrise and sunset setting. 

I hadn’t realized how long it had been until I arrived at Kear Morhen. Years had passed, and I had gained the child princess and a few friends in those years. Yet even with the people around me, there was still an ache in my chest, so looking at her frozen staring with that scared expression only caused the hurt to grow. 

I introduced Ciri to everyone. Vesmir understood that this was a unique matter at hand. He helped me in any way I needed. I wake Ciri every morning before the morning rose above the mountain tops. “Come, let’s go practice.” At first, it was with swords and then with combat. And every day, Y/n watched us, unmoving and silent. Every day, like clockwork, Ciri would get distracted as she wandered off the battle arena and towards Y/n’s statue. “Who is this?” There was a tiny plaque at the bottom of her lonely statute—Y/n’s name written in a language known to only a few witchers, one of which was Y/n. 

On the plaque, it reads: 

Y/n, L/n 

The First and Only Female Witcher 

We miss you. 

“Someone important,” I tell Ciri, and that’s where I leave it, but I feel I should know better. Ciri will go on an adventure to figure it out herself, regardless of what I want her to know about it. “Let’s return to practice before you get distracted even further,” I tell Ciri, and she follows me obediently, but there is something, and I can feel it as if Ciri is drawn to Y/n. 

–

Geralt doesn’t talk much about his past, and I know he’s got secrets he’s unwilling to share with me right now. There is just something about that statute. I can’t read the plaque below it, yet I do not care. There is a beauty around her, so everyone had to go to bed to rest every night after I sneak out of the room and walk down to the statue. 

I sneak out to talk to her. Unlike Geralt, she couldn’t give me a look of not understanding or dismissing me when he’d heard enough about my thoughts. I just want and need someone to understand me. I would walk out and talk to her for nights in a row. About anything and everything. How training was going, how much I missed my grandmother, the war, and the magic I felt pumping through my veins. Anything that scared me I talked to her about. 

One night, I thought I got caught. I had snuck out after a late dinner. Geralt had said I needed to do more training than when we first arrived here, yet we had already been here for ages. His words and his calm demeanor pissed me off. “You don’t think I can do it, do you?” I yelled at Geralt. I was standing up from the table. The chair slid and scratched the floor in the process. “I never said that,” Geralt said calmly. “Yet you never say I’m doing good; you just grunt and walk away. You don’t even talk to me about anything. Everything is a damn secret, I just want to understand, yet that was the most difficult thing here.” I screamed before stomping to my room, leaving half-uneaten food on my plate. The sound of echoing feet happened hours later, and when I peeked my head out of the room, there was nobody in the living space. 

“I just don’t understand why he doesn’t talk about things. I just want him to teach me and not just grunt at me and then tell me to repeat what I was just doing.” I fuss at the beautiful statue. She’s cleaned every day, and she almost looks real. If I just climbed up and touched her, she would come to life before me. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not cut out for this stuff,” I mumble as I look down at the ground before me. I must be too into my thoughts because I don’t hear when Vesmir comes behind me. 

“I see you’re out here talking to our beautiful Y/n.” Vesmir said, “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me, Vesmir.” I said, grabbing onto my chest and holding my fast-beating heart. “Wait, did you just say her name?” I asked, whipping around and asking Vesmir. He smiles down gently at me. “Of course, this is the only female witcher ever. She was the best of the best and a loving woman.” Vesmir adds before stepping further next to me. “I’m assuming from your reaction that Geralt hasn’t told you of the story about our dead Y/n.” I shake my head, “Hmm, I wonder, I must tell you now.” 

“So the story goes as follows. Y/n, the only female witcher, was with Geralt. God, they were in love with each other. They thought a hell of a lot of monsters together, but of course, a love story must always have a villain to it. There was a mage, according to Geralt. That had not taken his various forms of saying no to heart.  The mage had dragged Y/n into the fight that unfortunately put her in this frozen state.” Vesmir says, and as he continues to talk, he looks fondly at her.  

“So Geralt and her were together; no wonder he’s so tightlipped about her. He wouldn’t even tell me her name.” I say sadly, looking back up at her. “She is beautiful.” I say in a low, sadden voice, “Y/n is beautiful, I bet she was a great listener.” I say I hear a chuckle from behind “I wish I could have met her.” I say out loud, clearly. My hand sits on the stone base of her boot. “I figure she would have loved to have met you. You are much like her Ciri.” Vesmir adds. 

Just then there’s this moment of consuming silence. My hand still wrapped around her boot. “Ciri?” I hear Vesmir behind me. “What are you doing?” He asks, there’s shock in his voice, and a bit of terror. “I don’t… what are you talking about?” I ask looking up from the gravel beneath my feet. 

Her statue is lite up with a light blue hue. “I wasn’t… I was just holding her foot that was all I promise you.” The blue hue grows with strength until finally it echos into the sky, streaming onto every single surface it can touch. 

– 

I can sleep here, regardless of the anger that Ciri is pushing towards me. I can only ever sleep here at Kaer Morhen. It brings the past memeoties to the brim of my mind. Y/n fliters through my thoughts. Her voice echoing through my head, the sound of her laugh, the spring scent that followed her around. She was nothing like a witcher, her emotions open and willing to be connected with someone else. I ache in the best and worst ways for her. Yet I don;t dare tell Ciri about her. I can see it now, if Y/n was around she’d just love Ciri. Y/n would be so happy to be acting like her mother. As much as Y/n understood that she was the only female witcher, she also wished to be normal. She wished that she could have kids. It was a sad conversation that the both of us had to have. 

My eyes open with haste. A blue bright light pulling me from my dreams of my perfect family. There’s this searing blue light that is filtering through the walls of Kaer Morhen, and my thought flutter over to Ciri. I hope Ciri is alright. I jump up from the uncomfortable bed. I run through the halls, Ciri’s door is left open. Panic starts to set into my bones. I run around the others coming out of there rooms. The blue hue is fading away, and for a moment I swear I can hear Y/n’s voice. I push that away from my thoughts, as I frantly look for Ciri. I find that the front door is open wide, and when I look out there’s nothing but crumble stone all over the ground. 

“Geralt?” I hear Vesmir say. I look up front he ground swallow hard, bearing for the worst. Instead it’s not the worst. “I need you to believe what I’m about to say.” He says steadily. “Vesmir what are you talking about?” “Just let me finish alright, Ciri has awoken Y/n.” I stand there, my heart beats and my jaw leaps down to the ground in shock. We had tried everything, spells, magic, ruins to fix her condition. “Geralt?” A sweet voice calls from the dust before it all clears. 

There she is, standing in all of her glory. Grey hair that flows in the night wind. Y/n hasn’t aged a single day in the many years that she’s been frozen in her stone state. My hands shake my heart beats so fast I can hear it in my ears. I’ve never fetl a source of panic and relief all in one little moment. “Is that really you?” My voice is shattered and my heart feels as if it’s been broken and put back together all over again. “Oh my dear Geralt. I think you and I both know that it’s me.” Y/n says as her eyes flicker over tot heston slab we put her on, and then to Ciri. My eyes widden with shock. Y/n is most defintly not up there anymore, and the expression on Ciri’s face is easy to read. “Let’s take this inside, is that alright Vesmir?” Y/n asksher voice floating into my ears. It calms my racing heart. 

The walk inside is odd, and perfect all at the same time. We all sit at the same table that Ciri had just recently yelled at me. “Who may this be, Geralt?” She asks me, and it pulls me away from just staring at her. I use to stare at her all the time. Her beauty was always hard to not get distracted by. “This is um… this is Ciri.” I introduce her to Y/n. Y/n smiles sweetly over at her. “It’s a pleasure to met the person who fixed my rather unforotunate situation.” I forget how eloquent Y/n spoke most of the time. “I didn’t know that was going to happen.” Ciri speaks for the first time. “I told Ciri about what happened. Maybe that has something to do with this miracle.” Vesmir says looking over at me. I want to be anger with him and Ciri but the soft, and gentle hand that settles on my arm brings me back to earth. I can’t dare to be mad at either of them.

“I think we should thank them Geralt. As for without their efforts I would not have come back to you.” Y/n says looking over at me. I nod simply. “Thank you for bringing her back to me, Ciri. I owe you a lot more now.” Ciri looks at me notching her head to the side. “Geralt you don’t owe me anything. I just wanted to know moe about Y/n.” Ciri says look at he pair of us. “I would love to tell you more about me in the morning I’m rather tired.” Y/n says it like there’s nothing wrong with that fact. “Will you take me to bed, Geralt?” Y/n asks me, her grasps holding me tight. I shake my head not able to talk just yet. “I missed you.” Y/n says as we walk towards the room we used to share. 

Completed on: 08/27/23

Posted on: 08/28/23

The Heros-

[seraphimcollections]

gentle giant | Konig x medic!reader |

chapter 5

warnings: abduction, non-consenual drugging, language.

summary: little bird is trapped in the cat's jaws with only one way out - into the belly of the beast.

w/c: 2.1

a/n: hello again! I'm really looking forward to this chapter and the next! I wanted to be a little extra care in this chapter. I'll be putting together a master list to pin to my page if that'll be easier. Oh! Do me a solid and reblog if you like this series! Final part coming soon! Thank you!

chapters: | ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 |

The air had changed. With the news of your clear abduction quickly spreading across the base, the reality of both the 141 and KorTac’s failure weighed heavy on each of their shoulders. Soap’s playful demeanor was reduced to silence. Gaz didn’t know what else to do with himself besides try to keep himself busy cleaning his weapons multiple times consecutively. Price holed himself in his office, chain smoking countless of his precious cigars. No one knew where Simon was, but some say they could hear firing out in the yard at odd hours of the night. As for Kӧnig, he hadn’t slept in days. He hadn’t stepped foot out of your office. In the beginning, he couldn’t help his rage, taking it out on his surroundings -- the bookshelves, the files, anything. Quickly, the guilt settled in and he just as quickly began to try to put your office back to how he remembered it was. 

  Konig sat in his same chair, staring at the emptiness in yours’. He sat hunched over, his elbows on his knees, fingers laced together and clenched. He stared into that empty space, the rage still bubbling in his chest. Slowly, the rage began to bleed into anxiety and fear. You’ve been missing for two days. You could be anywhere, a different country, a completely other continent. Anywhere. Konig’s hands became fists in his lap. Millions of questions swirled in his head. Were you hurt? Were you even alive? Who took you, and what did they want with you? And as if the universe heard him, the bearer of answers stopped in the doorframe, not quite daring to enter, just as Konig had done many times. 

Konig’s cyan eyes caught on his stature, the 141’s loyal captain. From sight alone, Konig could see John was having as difficult a time as him, maybe even more so. In his hands held a bottle of whiskey along with two glasses in the other. 

“Mind some company?” John said gruffly. 

Konig sat up a little straighter and shook his head. John sighed, placing the glasses on the desk. He sat on the creaking wood, as if confirming they both knew that the other chair belonged only to you. Handing Konig a glass before taking his own, John took a slow sip. Konig carefully moved the glass under his hood, his lips coming to press against the lukewarm glass. 

“I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you,” John finally broke the silence, “but neither have you, Colonel.” 

Konig nearly choked from hearing his formal title. John chuckled, setting his glass down. 

“I-I don’t like to mention my title, it makes people act on false intentions,” Konig explained. 

John waved dismissively, “now need to explain it to me, soldier. We all learn to play our cards close to our chests. Just in this case, I lost more than I looked to gain in the first place.” 

Konig looked at the older man in confusion, “what do you mean, Captain?” 

John’s eyes glazed over, “I never told you why we were here, did I?” 

“No, but I figured you were all on the run,” Konig said. “And that it had something to do with Maus.” 

John’s eyes lit up hearing Konig’s name for you as he took another sip. 

“Wren, she saw something she was never supposed to see,” John frowned. “Something that goes all the way up to the top. Something that lacks all honor that those sods tried their damn best to bury it. But Wren found it, and it dug it all back for them. And so they planned to do what they always do-” 

“They’re going to kill her,” Konig said, dread sinking into every ounce of his being. 

John frowned before finally nodding., “but your comrades seem to think they’ve fulfilled their end of the bargain. They left, off to the next highest payer. You’re the only one who stayed. Which is why I came to you.” 

The two men could ignite wildfires with the heat of their gazes toward each other. 

“Are you with us on this? Will you help us get our bird back?” John said with all seriousness. 

Konig’s eyes narrowed, “you have me, Captain.” 

John nodded, standing on his two feet, “good, we move out at dawn. Get ready.” 

“I’m always ready, Captain.” 

“I will see you soon, kleine maus.” 

↭

  The ringing in your ears refused to cease. Your eyelids feel heavy, most likely swollen. Your entire body ached, your wrists and ankles bound tightly together, the zipties digging into your open skin. You laid on your side, your head limply laying on what felt like leather. You tried your best to tune your ears to what was around you. You wiggled trying to find something that could tell you where you were. Your throat felt so dry that even if you tried to speak you worried it would crack and bleed. You groaned, forcing your eyes to open to blinding sunlight. You were in a car, that much made sense. You laid on the back seat, the leather seats sticking to your clammy skin. 

You squint your eyes to see the dusty blonde head of hair over the driver’s seat. You blinked in confusion, trying to piece together how you got here in the back seat of this mystery car driven by a complete stranger. Your memory came back to you like an unwelcome friend. You remember the struggle, the bruise you were sure going to get from being thrown back onto the desk. The sickly sweet smell of whatever chemical your abductor used to put you under. The back of Konig’s head as he left to see what Price wanted. 

Rage burst into you heart as you tried your best to pull against your restraints, only to find yourself weak. 

“It’s useless,” the man you thought you knew as Richards said  in an annoying sing-song voice. “The drug won’t wear off for another few hours. Don’t waste what little energy you have, sweetheart.” 

You glared up at the rear view mirror, finding the man’s eyes peering back at you with amusement. 

“Who are you? Where are you taking me?” You growl. 

“We’re going back to my place,” he smiled as if saying this to his date, “then you’re going to tell me everything you know, and then, I’ll kill you.” 

You felt your blood run cold at his words. Your eyes narrowed. 

“Shepherd sent you.” 

“Ah! There’s that sharp cunningness Shepherd told me all about!” 

You glared at the man with a stare of thousand daggers. This gaze did little to faze your abductor as his smile never left his smug face. 

“Why not just kill me? Save yourself the trouble,” you said. 

“Ah, where would the fun be in that!” The man said, sounding like he was going on a day out at a theme park and not like a man who was your executioner. 

“No, I intend on taking my time with you,” he said, his gaze connecting with your own, letting you see the true darkness in his eyes. 

You fell silent, instead trying to look outside to try to get a clue on where you were, or how far you could be from base. From Konig. You could feel your stomach drop as the tall Austrian popped into your mind. Did he know you were gone? Was he even looking for you? In the end, he was part of KorTac, a company not renowned for loyalty to one agency. But…Konig was different. He was caring, empathetic and kind. If the two of you had enough time, you could find out why such a quiet soul could be in such a messy business. But then again, so were you. 

“You won’t get far,” you said with a huff. “You have no idea who’s coming for you.” 

“Correction: I know exactly who's coming for me, little bird,” Richards said. “And I’m counting on it.”

You brow furrowed at his words, making him snicker, “you really think Shephard would just let their insubordination go? Come on, you can’t be that naive!”

“Shut up-”

“You know, I should really thank you, not only do I get to take out the 141, but now KorTac’s finest? Ugh, it’s like Christmas morning,” Richards sighed. 

You lurch forward in a rage, “you leave Konig out of this!” 

“Oh, like you did?” Richards cocked a brow. “If my memory serves me right, it was because of you that KorTac even got dragged into this mess. And it will be because of you that your beloved Konig will die.”

You felt your chest begin to tighten in panic as the thought of everyone you ever loved, ever cared about being reduced to nothing but cold flesh all in your name. You begin to struggle against your restraints, pulling at them wildly. 

“Ah, doctor?” Richards said. 

You look up at the man and in a split second you catch the small almost travel size bottle in his large hand before Richard squeezed the little trigger. You recoiled back but to no avail, the mysterious potion infiltrated and coating your throat. You cough violently, your vision beginning to swim. 

“Trust me, it would be best if you sit this part out. Easier for both of us,” Richard smirked. “Sweet dreams, little bird.”

You fell onto you back with a groan, eyes rolling back up to the roof of the car. You fought to keep your eyes open but only to be swallowed back into the darkness. 

↭

73. 

73 hours since you’ve been abducted. As each hour passed, your trail got colder and Konig became more restless. This was clear with his foul attitude that no one could dare miss. What was left of the men on the base sat around a makeshift table with schematics scattered across it. Konig stood hunched over, his palms supporting his weight on the table. Price stood at the head of the table, Ghost to his right, Gaz to his left. Soap had tried his best to try to keep Konig cool so he stayed a safe but supportive distance close to Konig. 

“What you know is that Shephard all but lost most of his clean contacts to DC, so there’s a good chance he won’t be able to smuggle her into the States,” Gaz said with arms crossed. 

“That doesn’t completely squash the possibility,” said Ghost. 

“But would he even go through the trouble? I mean if he’s already got what he wants. Why drag it out?” Gaz said. 

“You’re right, if he was smart, she’s long dead,” Ghost said matter of factly. 

The wood of the table creaked under Konig’s fist at the mention of the idea. Soap leaned over. 

“That’s not going to happen, because we’re gonna get to the fucker first,” Soap said. 

Price agreed, “Soap is right. If there’s one thing I know about that snake is that he likes to play with his food. He won’t just kill her quickly.” 

“That doesn’t make it better,” Konig said, finally standing to his full height, effectively dwarfing the rest of the men. “There must be some sort of lead of where she could have been taken.” 

“He’ll want to take care of this quietly and under the radar,” Gaz said.

“Slimy bastard won’t even come to do it himself most likely,” Ghost scoffed. “Won’t want to get his hands dirty, ‘why he sent that fucker.” 

“And we know he’s petty-” 

“That much is clear,” Soap rolled his eyes. “The bellhead chased across half of fucking Europe.” 

“So he’ll take her to a place that holds some kind of memory, maybe?” Gaz shrugged. 

Price’s eyes shot wide with realization, “Las Almas.” 

These words caught 141's attention. 

“Would he really be that obvious?” Soap said. 

“Or stupid,” Ghost chimed in. 

“But that’s exactly wants,” Price said, “he’ll want to take this back to ground zero: Las Almas.” 

“What’s in Las Almas?” Konig asked. 

“It’s where we first found out how dirty Shepherd liked to play,” Soap grunted. “Evidently he slipped out of our hands, until Wren found data suggesting his whereabouts and what’s been keeping the sorry fucker busy. Guess he didn’t want anyone poking around in his business again.” 

“And you think he’s taken Maus there?” Konig said. 

“It’s our only lead,” Price sighed, hands gripping his vest. 

Konig sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly before nodding his head, “then we shall go.” 

“And luckily for us, we have friends on the other side,” Ghost smirked underneath his mask. 

“Los Fuerzas Especiales,” Soap smirked looking up at Konig, “Mexican Special Forces. They owe us a bit of a favor.” 

Konig looked back to Price who almost looked at him as if to give him the word. Konig stoney gaze didn’t waver.

“No more waiting. We leave tonight.”

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[jungkookjeon0007]

BTS FF Master List | 18+

This is where you can find all of my BTS FF stories! I linked them here because it was more convenient for my readers to find!

☆ ratings: (18+) for detailed sex scenes + harsh language.

☆ genre: smut, fluff, angst.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Nights in Vegas | (JJK FF)

☆ summary: When Olivia flies to Las Vegas for her first ever BTS concert w/ her best friend, she was expecting to make lots of unforgettable memories... What she wasn't expecting was to end up with the lead singer, Jeon Jungkook, knocking on her hotel room door only to find her in nothing but a towel. What will happen when the golden maknae wants to see her again? Will it lead to heartbreak, or a promising future for them both?

☆ pairing(s): jungkook x olivia, hobi x olivia's bestfriend.

☆ ratings: (18+) for detailed sex scenes + harsh language.

☆ genre: smut, angst, fluff.

☆ word count: 49.5k.

Click title to go to Master post. 💋

☆☆☆☆☆☆

The House Party | Pt. 1 (JJK X MYG FF)

☆ summary: Fresh out of high school, Kim Su-Jin has always been sheltered by strict parents and has walked a straight line all of her life. She made a promise to herself that once she went to college and was out on her own, that she would finally cut loose and have the fun she always wanted to experience. I’m college, she meets some of her best friends within the first week, and soon the opportunity arises for them to go to their first party. While there, her life suddenly gets thrown into a whirlwind when she meets a group of 7 extremely handsome boys. Two of them in particular caught her interest and that’s when her life changed forever.. ♥️

☆ pairing(s): min yoongi x jungkook x su-jin.

☆ ratings: (18+) for detailed sex scenes + harsh language.

☆ genre: smut, angst, fluff.

☆ word count: 1.65k.

Click title to go to part 1 of the story. 💋

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Our Little Secret | Maknae Line FF

☆ summary: You’re hooking up with Jungkook, but his best friends, Taehyung and Jimin, are jealous and just so happen to want you too. One night when Jungkook was buried deep inside of you, the two maknaes walk in and see you both. Jealously suddenly flashes across their faces as Jungkook continues to ruin you. Will he let them join, or will he be stubborn and keep you for himself? 💋

☆ pairing(s): jungkook x reader.

☆ ratings: (18+) for detailed sex scenes + harsh language.

☆ genre: smut, threesome, oral sex (m + f receiving), unprotected sex — remember to always be safe and practice protected sex, foursome, full sleeve tattooed jk, lip piercings, big dick.

☆ word count: 1.71k.

Click title to go to the story. 💋

☆☆☆☆☆☆

A Night with Jungkook | (JJK FF)

☆ summary: Jungkook comes home to his girlfriend (x reader) from a stressful day of practices and ready to relax for the evening with her. But what he wasn't prepared for, was what his girlfriend had planned for them in the bedroom...

☆ pairing(s): jungkook x reader.

☆ ratings: (18+) for extremely detailed sex scenes + harsh language.

☆ genre: HEAVY smut, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex — remember to always be safe and practice protected sex, full sleeve tattooed jk, lip piercings, big dick, aftercare, fluff.

☆ word count: 1.64k.

Click title to go to the story. 💋

☆☆☆☆☆☆

[i-am-baechu]

Summary: Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. Y/N and Jungkook love each other but when familiar and new faces come into their lives, things get complicated. On top of that, a surprise that truly shakes their plans for the future. Will their relationship push forward or will Jungkook lose his fangirl once and for all?

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·

Chapter twenty-one: In & Out

→ Genre: Idol au, established relationships, girl group stan au, social media au, K-pop fan page au, romance, angst, comedy, and smut

→ Main pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Fan girl! Reader 

→ Side ships: Yoongi x OC & Jin x OC

→ Warnings: Explicit language, smut, mature themes, alcohol usage, anxiety disorder, stalking, and obsessive behavior

→ Warnings for the chapter: Talks of depression and dark thoughts (If this is triggering please don’t read it) 

→ Authors Note: If you are struggling in life please call 1-800-273-8255 or visit https://psychcentral.com/health/online-help-for-depression#list that has other resources to help you. You are never alone even if this world makes it seem like. Where there is love there is no darkness 💜

⇜ Masterlist ⇝

“There is hope, even when your brain tells you there isn’t.” – John Green

One of the worst things that can happen to someone is having their thoughts travel with no destination. It’s so dangerous but you don’t realize it until you have already left the train station. No matter what the weather is, nothing can change the feeling in your heart. The sun can shine through the window but there is no light in the compartment. Just darkness. The only way to escape is to pay the master gratitude and maybe then the sun could shine.

Y/N sat on the bed listening to the water hit the window. Pitter-patter. It was another rainy day in Korea and she couldn’t be bothered with the rain drops. They just keep reappearing. Rain is nice for others, it brings peace but for Y/N it's different. Each droplet contained a fragment of her life which is why she couldn’t look at the glass. It would make her remember or worse think. In moments like this, she was glad she had Jungkook in her life but today she didn’t want the comfort. She wanted the loneliness and she wanted to feel the nothingness at least then, nothing could hurt her.

Jungkook sat in the living room with the movie at a low volume. It’s been two weeks since Y/N left the guest room. He would come in and try to talk to her but she would just look at him with a blank expression. It was something he wasn’t used to from her and in all honesty it scared him. He felt his phone buzz and he picked it up, “Hyung...”

“Is she still in the room?”

Jungkook glanced up the stairs and sighed, “Yoongi, I don’t know what to do...I’m scared.”

“It’s been almost a month and she hasn’t talked to any of us. Maybe you should try again but this time be a little more firm.” 

“Firm? Is that the right action, especially how she is now?” 

“Okay, not firm...I guess just tell her your concerns and talk about more therapy.”

Jungkook nodded his head and rubbed Bam’s head with a small smile, “I’ll try...I’ll talk to you later.” 

“Good luck.”

Jungkook sighed and stood up from the couch. He glanced at a photo of Y/N and him at the beach. It was cloudy that day but that didn’t stop them from going. She wore his sweater and they looked out towards the water. That day, he saw a small look of Y/N’s mind. She talked about how she wasn’t sure how she felt and everything was confusing. The one thing that would never change no matter what, Jungkook wouldn’t be with her. One day at a time, he told her. 

He tossed his phone on the couch and smiled at Bam, “Stay.”

The big dog nodded his head and laid on the couch watching his master go up the stairs. With each step, Jungkook glanced at the photos that were placed on the wall. Each photo told their story, the moments that made his heart flutter no matter what. Like the moment when Y/N surprised him for his birthday in the dance studio or when Jungkook surprised her with roses on her birthday. Moments that made him know that this was worth it. 

He gently knocked on the door and slowly opened it to see Y/N staring at the wall. Something he grew accustomed to seeing. He closed the door quietly and sat on the bed. He gently rubbed her leg which was covered with the black blanket, “Babe...can we talk?”

“Mmmm...” 

He glanced down at the carpet and started playing with his fingers, “I think you should go to therapy more...”

“What’s the point?” 

His eyes widened when he heard this and glanced at her. This was the first time she answered him with words, “What do you mean what’s the point?” 

She slowly got up and stared down at the blanket, “It won’t help me at this point...I think I’m too far gone.” 

“Babe, what do you mean?” 

She glanced up at him and then back at the blanket, “There was a night at the hospital....Jeongguk I almost died.”

His eyes drifted to the blanket but he shook his head. He scouted closer to Y/N and placed his hand on top of hers, “Baby-”

“Jeongguk, have you ever experienced a near-death experience?” 

“Well...once at this concert but that doesn’t matter right now.”

She sighed and glanced at the window, “I met him, death...in my subconscious. I was in this beautiful house as he spoke to me like I was an old friend...well, I am one to him. I could’ve grabbed his hand and let everything be over. There was a part of me that wished I did because I’m just...I’m so tired Jeongguk...so tired.” 

Jungkook gripped her hand tighter and rubbed her knuckles softly, “Y-Y/N...I know things-”

“Jeongguk, someone tried killing me because I love you. Before that I was already going through things...the thought of being a mother scared me and just me wanting...”

“Wanting what?”

She looked at his face and a tear fell down, “I wanted to die Jeongguk...Everything was too much and I just couldn’t handle it. I hate that I felt like that because I had so much support from my friends but I-I...I just couldn’t.” 

Jungkook bit his lip and held back his tears because right now wasn’t the right time to cry. She needed him to be strong, “Baby, I can get you help-”

“Jeongguk, I love you so much...I don’t think I can be here anymore.”

His eyes widened at this and he stared at her, “What do you mean?” 

“I want to go back to my mom...I need to leave Korea for a while.”

He nodded his head at this and glanced down at the carpet, “Do you want to...do you want to break up?” 

She glanced at him and shook her head, “No...I don’t want to break up. I think it would be best if I stayed with my mom for a while...like a month.” 

He nodded his head and leaned forward placing a kiss on her forehead, “If you want that then I’ll support you. I’ll always be here for you.”

She leaned forward, having her head on his chest, “I love Jeon Jeongguk.”

“I love you L/N Y/N.” 

1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

Jungkook sat in the dance room with his head between his legs. The night before was weighing on him heavily. That night, he slept with Y/N in the guest room. She cried into his chest as he rubbed her back hiding his own tears. Hearing the person you love wants to end their life was something he wished on no one.

“I knew you were going to be in here.” 

He looked up to see Namjoon with a bottle of water and a soft smile, “Hey...”

Namjoon sat next to him and set the water next to him. He let out a small sigh and leaned back on the glass, “I heard you talked to Y/N last night.”

Jungkook nodded his head at this and looked at Namjoon with a blank expression, “Y/N is going back to her mom's for a month.”

“That sounds good for her...what happened with the conversation?” 

“She told me something...”

Namjoon nodded his head and took a sip of his water, “You can tell me anything Jungkook.”

“When she was in the hospital...she almost died. She told me that she saw death and they talked...she also said she wanted to die but she chose differently.” 

Namjoon's eyes widened at this and put his water next to him to give him his full attention, “What?” 

“Y/N said she wanted to die and I think she basically had a mental breakdown because of what happened.” 

“That makes sense, Jungkook...someone tried killing her. She is also dealing with it at work, it's a lot for one person.” 

Jungkook looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes, “I know...I hate myself that I didn’t notice it.”

“Jungkook, you can’t put this pressure on yourself. I think you always knew she was having a hard time.” 

“I did but I-I just didn’t notice how bad it was...if I noticed it maybe I could’ve helped her sooner.”

Namjoon placed his hand on his shoulder and brought him in a hug, “It’s not your fault...it's the people out there that are doing this to you guys.” 

Jungkook finally let his emotions break through and he started crying in his chest, “I-I just want to be happy with her. I want to spend my life with her and experience everything with her. Why can’t the world let me be happy?” 

“Shh...it’s okay Jungkook. It’s okay.” 

“Wh-When I find the person that did this to her, it’s going to be war.” 

Namjoon nodded his head as he rubbed his back, “We’ll be by your side. No one messes with us.” 

That night when Jungkook came home, he saw Y/N in the kitchen drinking some tea. She looked so tired and it broke his heart to see her like this. He placed his things on the table and walked towards her. She glanced up and gave him a small smile, “Hey, you.” 

“Hey, baby. How are you doing?”

She glanced down at her mug and then back at him, “I made tea. My mom told me to make it, she said it would make me feel better.” 

“That's good, baby. When do you want to leave?” 

She walked towards him and leaned her body against his, “I was thinking Friday...”

“Friday? That’s in three days.”

“I thought the faster I go, the faster I come back.” 

He nodded his head and kissed the top of her head, “If that’s what you want...I’ll be here waiting for you. I’ll give you space.” 

“I don’t want that much space, Kook.” 

“We’ll get through this.”

“We will.” 

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Tag List:

@agustdpeach @mdavt @aloverga @drissteele @xngelsau

[andydrysdalerogers]

To The Limit ~ Six

F1 Racer Johnny Storm x OFC Maya Levinson

Summary: He's been away from the sport for 2 years. He has 24 races to prove he belongs here. There are two things that could derail this: his family and her.

She's the one thing he is willing to push to the limit for.

This a sequel to my original story, "Following Team Orders" If you want to get caught up in my Formula One world, you can find it HERE

The tag list is open!

Future Warnings: references to a partner's death, cheating (but not by the MCs,) alcohol consumption, SMUT!, angst, racing incidents, language, grief, etc.

A/N: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm Sorry....

Moon Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Car divider and Banners by me!

Previous Chapter: Three

Story Master List // Main Master List

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Johnny 

Two Years Ago - December 

“You’re pregnant?” 

I stared at the girl who ghosted me, who left me in bed after a phenomenal date and unearthly sex. I asked about her in the Red Bull garage, but Liv told me she had a family emergency and wouldn’t be back. Molly was gone and I felt like I lost the chance at something great.  

“Yeah, about 10 weeks,” she said quietly. “I hadn’t been with anyone else in a long time before and since so my only conclusion is that you are the father.”  

This cannot be happening.  I just lost my job, hadn’t found another one and now I was going to be a father.  My own father had walked away from my mom, Susie and I when we were four. I had nothing to base how to be a father and now I was going to be one.  It’s like jumping off a cliff without a parachute.  

“Johnny? Are you still with me?” Molly’s indigo eyes were full of concern.  

I shook my head. “Sorry, I think I just panicked in my head all by myself.�� Umm...” I looked at Molly and saw she was just as freaked out as I was. She wasn’t planning this.  She wasn’t trying to set me up.  She was genuinely scared that I would reject her, abandon her, leave her to raise a baby all by herself. “Molly, what do you want to do? Whatever you want, you have my full support.”  

“I have an appointment in a couple of days in London to get checked out.” She chewed her lip, and I tugged it free. I cupped her cheek and nodded, encouraging her to finish. “Will you come with me?” 

“Of course.”  

Three days later, I found myself sitting in a doctor’s office, looking at poster of the reproductive system of a woman and how childbirth works.  “Ok, just for the record, this room is freaking me out.”  

Molly giggled. “Me too.  Like I remember the process from school, but this is a different reminder of that.”  

I turned to her. We had been talking every day and getting to know each other.  “So... you live in London?” 

“Yes, my flat is near central London. You?” 

“I did live near Maranello, because of the factory, a flat in Monaco, a penthouse in New York and a flat here in London as well.”  I didn’t realize how entitled I sounded until I saw her face, “Sorry, I’m not trying bragging.”  

“No, it's fine.” Molly looks at her hands. “I know you are a driver, but I didn’t realize...”  

I know what she means.  She knows I’m rich but not exactly how rich. Sue me for liking the odd watch or dinner at a nice restaurant.  I scratch at my head. I guess those days are over. I look over at her and think about the future nights in and spending time with Molly. Maybe giving up expensive dinners would be good for me if I could have her.  

“Hey, don’t worry about that stuff,” I tell her, cupping her cheek. “I’ll be wherever you are.”  

Her responding smile make my heart flip a little. I just want to feel those on me. On my lips and... other places. I really need to get a grip on myself.  The doctor comes in, asking questions before we do the scan.  I guess when the baby is still small, they don’t do it the way you see in movies.  I’m intimidated by the piece of machinery that is used on Molly. The shit women have to go through makes what I have dealt with look like nothing.  

“Well, looks like baby is about 11 weeks along. The next scan will be the traditional method. Go ahead and get dressed and I’ll have some pictures upfront for you.”  The tech left the room, and I turned around to give Molly privacy. 

“Should we get some lunch?” I asked as I continued to look at the wall.  It was silent for a moment. “Molly?” A sniffle made me turn around and I watched as she wiped a tear away from cheek. “Molly, are you ok? Do you need to me get the doctor?” 

She shook her head. “How can you look at me when I’ve messed up your whole life?”  

I cup her cheek and tilt her head up to look at me. “Ask me what I was thinking about?” 

She took a deep breath. “What were you thinking about?” 

“I was thinking about which place would be better for us to raise our kid and which place I would need to sell. I was thinking if it was too early for you to move in with me so I can take care of you and the baby. I was thinking how much I want to kiss you, Molly.” I kiss her forehead.” I was thinking about you.  I have been for the last two months.”  

She nodded as more tears spilled down her cheeks. “I was wondering if you hated me.”  

“You couldn’t be more wrong, sweetheart. Can I kiss you?” She nodded and I placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I want to do this with you Molly, if you’ll let me.”  

16 Weeks - February 

Reed, Charles and I were moving the last of Molly’s boxes into my London flat. Molly had decided to move in with me. I sold the flat in Maranello and leased out the flat in Monaco.  I wouldn't be there until after the baby was born so I leased it to a couple of friends.  

I had decided to take the season off this year. There were no open spots since Ferrari left this so late, it basically screwed me.  Thankfully, I am not a complete idiot, as most thought of me. I saved, invested and could support a family for a long time. But I love my job. I wanted to keep doing my job. My mind had run through every team. Except for Ferrari, every seat was taken the next year. I could stay as a reserved driver. That thought made me grimace. Not a Formula One driver and better than Formula Two, a reserve driver is just in limbo, waiting for a driver to fail or be injured. It's a morbid thought to want you team mate to fail. 

The decision was made. Molly would still work, if she wanted, and I would stay home with the baby after she had given birth.  That way, if I decided to go back to racing, the baby would be about four months. I asked Molly to come with me once I was back in the game. She was still on the fence about traveling with a baby, but I told her we had plenty of time. It was only the beginning of February and baby wasn’t due until August.  

Molly walked into our bedroom with a basket of clothes.  I rushed to take it from her. She shouldn’t be carrying heavy things.  “Johnny, I can carry a basket.”  

“But I am here at your service to do your bidding.” I mocked a bow to her, and she giggled. “How are you feeling?”  

“Good. I like your flat.  It's close to everything and has good natural light.  I think me and Baby will like it here.” She smiles for me, that beautiful smile that captured me. “Thank you.”  

“For what, sweetheart?”  

“For wanting to take care of me and the baby.” She chews on her bottom lip, hesitating in saying what’s on her mind.  

I smiled softly at her. “You can tell me anything, Molly. I promise, I won’t get mad.”  

She takes my hand and squeezes. “I think I’m in love with you, Johnny.”  

I stare at her for a moment. Then bow my head.  

“Oh, thank fuck because I’m pretty sure I love you, Molls.” I raise my eyes to hers. “I think I’ve been in love with you since that first night.”  

She flings her arms around me, and I hold her and my child as tight as I can. They are my family, and I feel complete.  

24 weeks - April 

“Johnny!” 

“What the fuck did I do now?” I grumble as I get myself out of my SIM and head to the kitchen. Molly has been on this kick about cooking and storing food for after the baby.  I mention one time that the pea soup she had made tasted sandy, and I spent a week on the couch. Pregnant women, as it turns out, are more sensitive. My back hasn’t recovered yet as I pad into the kitchen. “What do...” the words die in my mouth.  

A candle lit table is waiting for me. I look to see a roast and all the trimmings. My jaw falls open. “Molls?” 

“I wanted to say sorry for getting mad about the soup and making you sleep away from me.  I hated it and I don’t want to do that again.”  I can see the tears forming in her eyes.  

“Oh, sweetheart, its ok.” I cup her face and wipe away the tears. I kiss her forehead. “I’m not mad and I’m sorry for being a jerk.”  

“You weren’t. You were just being honest.” She sniffles. “How’s your back?” 

“Better. How’s yours?” 

“Your child keeps kicking me in the kidney,” she said.  

“I like how it's my child when they are being bad but your child when everyone comments how cute they are in the sonogram.” I took a bite of the roast she made. “Damm, this is so good.”  

“Thank you, honey. I made a tart as well for dessert.”  

I stopped mid bite. “Apple?” She smiled and nodded. “Ok, what do you want?” I now knew she was buttering me up for something. “Back rub? Feet rub?” 

“No, I was just being nice and saying sorry.” Molly leaned over to kiss me on the cheek, but I hold her by the neck and kiss her harder.  

“I love you,” I whisper against her lips. 

“I love you.” She kisses me once more and I release her. We eat in silence for a bit.  

My mind is wandering. I don’t want Molly to feel like she can’t get mad at me if I’ve done something wrong. I don’t want her to think I will walk away. I want her to know how committed I am to her. My mouth speaks before I can stop it.  

“Let’s get married.”  

28 Weeks - May 

Susie is adjusting my tie with her lips slightly pursed. “What?” 

“Nothing.” She pats my lapels, and I can see all the words she wants to say.  

“Susie, you understand that I am your twin, and I can read all the words you aren’t saying.” I give her an amused smile.”  

She signs. “Are you rushing into this?” 

My smile falls a little and I shrug. “Maybe. But I love her, and she loves me, and we are going to be a family anyways so why not make it official. Besides, I already had this argument with her parents.”  

That was a headache.  Her parents were not happy that she was rushing into marriage. They wanted us to wait until the baby was born so they could do a big wedding and invite everyone they’ve ever known. I know Molly and I knew she didn’t want that.  My girl doesn’t want the spotlight. It's the reason she hasn’t agreed to join me when I get back to Formula One. And she said just that.  

“Mom, it's too much. I want the baby to be born with his parents married and happy. And I am happy, so happy with Johnny and the life he wants to provide us.”  

Her dad grumbled and looked at me like I had stolen a precious gem. I guess I had. I needed to make this ok for everyone. “Tell you what,” I started, “we found a cute little chapel just outside of Paris that we want to get married at.  Just immediate family and a few friends.” I showed a picture to her parents. “Molly fell in love with this place, and I want to make all of her dreams come true.  But, after the baby is born, we’ll host a big reception for everyone.”  

“What about getting married again in our church?” Her mother sniffed.  

I looked at Molly and she gave me a small smile.  “If Molly wants that, then I will give it to her.  

This is how I am standing outside the small chapel about to walk in to marry my girl. I walk up to the front of the chapel and see all the important people to me here. Liv and Steve, Bucky and Nat, Andy Barber, Frank Adler, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, Susie and Reed, my mother, her mother, Molly’s best friend Jess and her brother. These were the people we wanted to share our special day.  Charles is standing next to me as my best man. The doors open and Molly’s sister walks in as her maid of honor. And then she’s there, on her father’s arm.  

She’s an angel. Her dress showcases her small bump in floaty fabric.  There is a crown of white flowers in her hair. She hangs onto her dad as she walks on the uneven stones.  But my chest constricts. She’s everything I never knew I wanted. I bend in a squat as I try and stop the tears that are threatening to fall. I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up to see Charles smiling and encouraging me to stand. I finally do and he whispers, “she is beautiful, and you are a lucky son of bitch.”  

“I know I am,” I whisper back. I keep watching as she walks to me, and I can see the glittering of unshed tears in her eyes.  She finally makes it to me. I shake her father’s hand, and I take her hand in mine. “Hi beautiful.”  

“Hey handsome.” She reaches up to wipe a tear that fell. “Ready?” 

“Ready.”  

She gasps as she holds her stomach. I put my hand on her bump and feel my child kicking. “I think they are ready too.”  

33 weeks – June 

My pregnant wife is radiant as she sits and sips her tea during her baby shower. Our flat is covered with flowers and balloons. Liv, Molly’s sister and best friend commandeered our flat and promptly kicked me out. I had handed my card to Liv and said whatever she wants. Now as I walk back in, I smile at the joy on her face.  I had surprised her and had her friends from the States flown in for the weekend.  

“How’s it going, baby?” I lean over her from behind and kiss her crown.  

“It's good. So many cute little clothes. Look at this one.” She pulls out a red onesie with the words, “My Uncle is Faster than You.”  

It tugs a little, that I am not there with Charles, Liv, Steve and Bucky. But I smile because this is not about my lost career.  “It's cute. Charles sent that?” 

“Of course he did.” Molly giggles. She gives me a kiss.  “Ready to tell them?” 

“Yeah, baby. Let’s do it.”  I grab the bag I got for Molly and hand it to her. She looks at me curiously. “I wanted to get you something to commemorate.”  

“Ooh, Molly what is it?” Jess asks.  I have all the women’s attention and my friends who were with me for a drink.  Molly pulls it out and gasps.  

Sitting in a platinum ring are blue sapphires that wrap around.  “Look inside,” I whisper.  She leans the ring.  

In love with you and our boy 

“Johnny,” she cries as she hugs me hard. “Tell them, love,” I whisper to her, but she shakes her head.  

As I slip the ring on her finger, she’s wiping away at her tears and I look to the crowd.   

“We’re having a boy.”  

39 weeks – August 

London is in the middle of the worst heatwave that they have seen in years.  Molly has been uncomfortable, but I had the forethought to have air conditioning added to the apartment so it's only on her walks where she is overheating. But now, she sleeps. She still likes it when I hold her, so I have an arm around her, holding her and my son. Suddenly, she cries out in her sleep. “Molly, baby?” 

I think I just had a big contraction. She rubs at her stomach. Molly had been feelings some pains on and off for the last day or so, but we assumed it was Braxton Hicks.  We wait a few minutes but nothing else happens.  I help her get up to go to the restroom. Then I hear “Johnny!” 

I race into the bathroom. I see her nightgown is soaked and the floor has a puddle. “Let me guess, your water just broke?” She nods and gives a sheepish smile. “It’s alright babe; let’s get you into some dry clothes and get to the hospital.” I glance at the clock. 2:51 AM.  August 8th.  

We get to the hospital in record time. Granted there was no traffic at this time of night but it makes my stress level of getting my girl to the hospital quickly low at the moment.  She’s all checked in and hooked up when the doctor comes in.  “Molly, Johnny, ready to welcome your baby into the world?” 

“Ready as ever Doc.” I reply. “Got the paint in the nursery done last week.”  

“Alright some routine questions before I do a check.” She asks about how long she’s been contracting and when her water broke. Then she does the exam.  “Well, you’re about six centimeters along. Baby is in position and has a strong heartbeat.  I guess we have a few hours left.  Did you want to have the epidural?” 

Molly looks at me. “It's your call, sweetheart.” She chews her lip.  “Hey, no one is going to judge if you want to, okay? You know your body and what it can take.” I kiss her knuckles. “I’m right here.  

Molly nods and looks at the doctor.  “Yes, I want it.”  

Ever seen someone get stabbed in the back with a needle? It's not for the faint of heart. I didn’t watch but I squatted in front of Molly, coaching her to breathe. Once it was in, and the catheter was in, now it was just a waiting game. 

Four hours later, Molly was trying to push, ready to welcome our son in the world. I was seated behind her, holding her tired body up, her hands in mine. “You got this Molls. You can do anything baby. Give me one more,” I talk lowly in her ear.  

“I can’t Johnny, I’m so tired.” She was breathing hard. And her head was leaning back on my shoulder.  

“I know, baby, but you cooked him long enough and he wants to meet his momma. One more, okay and I promise you can rest. C’mon baby, do it for our son.”  

Molly is a rock star. She nods at me and on her next contraction, she gives an almighty push. “The head is out,” the doctor calls. “Just a little more Molly.” And then we hear it. 

The cry of my son.  

They place the baby on Molly’s chest, and she cries. “He’s here,” she gasps. “Johnny, he’s here.”  

I wipe at my eyes and stare at my boy, my baby boy who is angry at the world for ripping him away from his cozy home inside momma. “Molly, you did it. He’s perfect.”  

“He is,” she sobs as she kisses his head. I kiss hers before I whisper, “I love you, thank you.”  

They take our baby to get him weighed and measured as Molly delivers the after birth and gets cleaned up.  I watch them like a hawk, handling my son. “Seven pounds 12 oz and 20 inches long,” a nurse announces.  She puts a blue cap on his head and looks at me.  “Ready to hold him, daddy?” 

“Fuck, yes,” I breathed. They had told me ahead of time that I would get to carry him for skin to skin, so I whipped off my shirt and sat in the armchair.  Molly stared at me with sleepy, happy eyes as the laid my son on my chest. I felt his fragile little body next to mine and he calmed as he laid on me.  

“Do you have a name?” Another nurse asked us.  

I look at my beautiful, sleepy wife. “Molls?” 

“Matthew,” she replied, “after my dad.”  

“And Charles,” for my best friend.   

Matthew Charles Storm.  

I finally give up Mattie to Molly and she tries to breast feed.  The nurse coaches her for a bit before we’re alone for what they call the golden hour.  It's just us and our baby.  He feeds and then is asleep on Molly’s chest. “He is beautiful Molly. You cooked him really good.”  

“I can’t believe he’s here. I kept dreaming about him.” She runs her hand along his back. She sighs but looks exhausted. And pale.

“Sweetheart, are you ok?” 

“I just got dizzy right now.  Can you take him? I’m scared I might drop him."  I gently take Mattie in my arms as Molly tries to reach for the juice. She misses and groans and I see her eyes flutter. A machine starts to frantically beep.  

“Molly? Molls? Molly, wake up. C’mon baby, open your eyes.”  I hit the call button as I hold onto my son. “Molly!” 

A nurse comes running in as another machine in the room starts to wail.  “She’s crashing!” the nurse yells out.  

“Molly!” I hold my son, and I’m pushed back with my son to give the medical staff some room. “Molly! What’s happening?”  

A nurse guides me out of the room and into the hallway, “Mr. Storm, your wife’s vital have dropped. We are doing everything we can to help her.” She waves at another nurse. “Can you find a place for Mr. Storm and the baby to be for right now.”  

“No, please, let me see my wife.” But I’m pushed into another room where I can sit with my son. Its agony. I don’t know what’s happening to her.  I can’t lose her. I can’t do this without her. My Molly. I look at my son, the greatest gift she’s every given me.  

“Johnny?” I look up to see Charles, Liv and Susie in the doorway. Right then, I can’t stop the tears from running down my face. “Oh, Johnny,” Susie says before wrapping me in her arms.  

“They kicked me out and I don’t... I don’t know anything.” Mattie shifts in my arms so I lay him on my chest like before. He settles and I look at my family. “Molly did great and then she got dizzy and looked pale. She closed her eyes and...” 

“I’m sure she’s going to be ok,” Liv said. She peeks over my shoulder. “And who is this?” 

“This is Mattie, Molly’s son.” I can’t hold in the sob anymore.  “This is Molly’s perfect baby boy. Matthew Charles Storm.” I rattle off his statistics and look at my best friend. “You look stunned.”  

“I am honored, Johnny.” Charles came and sat next to me. He peeks under his little cap to show off some blonde curls. “He looks like you, poor kid,” he quipped. I sputtered a laugh and kissed the top of Mattie’s head. I let Susie hold him first while I called Molly’s parents. I asked them to come down as soon as possible. They said they would board the next flight. I didn’t tell them about Molly but just said for them to come as soon as possible.  

Twenty minutes later, a doctor came in. “Mr. Storm?” I stood up with my son back in my arms. “Molly’s blood pressure rapidly dropped, which is a sign on bleeding. When we started to work on her, we noticed she was bleeding internally. We rushed her into emergency surgery. She had a previously undetected blood clot.” 

“What does that mean? Is she ok?” 

I heard Liv start to sob in Charles’s shoulder as Susie stood right next to me so I could feel the weight of her.  

“I’m sorry Mr. Storm. Molly is in a medically induced coma, but her brain function is low. The blood clot traveled during our efforts to save her, and we didn’t catch it in time.” 

My brain is not computing what he is saying. “But it’ll come back, right?  You cleared the clot and she just needs time to heal.”  

“Maybe. But the likelihood of that happening is very low. We're talking about a 3 percent chance.”  

“What are you saying? Just spell it out for me.” I was annoyed with the run around he was giving me.  

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Storm. Molly is brain dead. The machines are keeping her alive but now you would have to decide if you would like to keep her on life support.”  

My brain is blank. I can’t comprehend what he is telling me. Molly is dead. She can’t be. She just gave birth to Mattie. She’s a mom. I don’t feel Susie taking my son from my arms. I just feel the world tilt. Charles caught me and the doctor looks at me. “Mr. Storm, are you with us?” 

“She can’t be dead,” I say. “She was just here.”  

“I’m so sorry. We’ll wait until he has recovered a little bit. Is her family here?” 

“No,” I hear Susie say. “They are on their way from America. Would it be possible to wait to do anything before they get here?” 

“Yes, of course. I’ll send a nurse to get some fluids into Mr. Storm and also come and take the baby to the nursery.” 

That snaps me out of the fog.  “No, my son stays with me. I’ll feed him and do whatever. You can’t take him.”  

Charles stops me from lunging at the doctor. “No one is taking him, Johnny. Breathe, he’s right here with us.”  

I grasp at his arms. “Charles, is she gone?” 

The broken look on his face should have told me but nothing was comprehending. He looked me right in the eyes. “Yes, Johnny, Molly is gone.”  

6 hours later 

I’m sitting with my son, feeding him a bottle.  It feels wrong to do this. Isn’t he supposed to only be breast fed? All of the reading I had done before was out the window. I can’t think about stupid books that don’t explain how your healthy pregnant wife could die an hour after your son is born.  I’ve been to visit Molly in her room.  The machines tell me she is alive, technically, but one machine where there are no waves, that’s her brain. 

Charles and Liv watched my son as I cried over his mother’s body with Susie. I took her hand and begged her to wake up and come back to us.  

The doors open as Mattie is finishing his bottle. Molly’s parents are in the doorway. “Johnny,” Matthew says, “where is my daughter?” 

I kiss Mattie’s forehead and hand him to Charles. I stand up and look the man straight. “She’s in the ICU. Have you talked to the doctor yet?”  He shakes his head. I guess it's my duty now.  “Molly threw a blood clot after birth. They didn’t catch it in time. They are waiting for us to decide if we take her off of life support. She’s,” my voice cracks because I can’t say it.  I don’t want to say it. My face crumples and her mom pull me into her arms. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen,” I cry in her arms.  

“You didn’t,” he says now holding his wife as she sobs. “You were the best man I could have asked for. You had her here and did everything right.”  

A baby’s cry rings out and I move towards my son. Charles passes him to me and turn to her parents. “She left us the best gift,” I say with a wobble. “Meet Matthew Charles Storm, our son.”  

I let him meet his grandparents as we wait for the doctor to come in. I watch him like a hawk. Nothing can happen to him because he is all I have of her. When the doctor does come in and speak to her parents, he’s in my arms again.  

We decide to let Molly go. Her sister and best friend had made it. I left my son with Liv and Charles so we could go say goodbye to her. I watched as her sister, best friend and parents fall apart and say goodbye. Then it was my turn. I went back to her bedside. She had to take off her rings before delivering so I held them in my hand while I held hers. “This was the best adventure of my life, Molls. I can never thank you enough for the best gift ever. I love you so much.” I kiss her forehead, “I promise, nothing will happen to Mattie.  He’s my world, just like you are.”  

I looked up at the clock. It was almost three in the afternoon. In twelve hours, my entire world changed.  

And it was just him and I, against the world.  

One Week later  

I don’t remember much of the service and burial. I just know that Mattie is with me, asleep in my arms for most of it. He is such a good baby. Decisions are made fast. Her parents wanted her to be buried in North Carolina. I’m fine with that. We would be visiting a lot anyways. But I make the decision to move back to New York to be closer to my family. Susie and Reed had taken my penthouse but there is still plenty of room. Susie wants to help me. 

And for the next 15 months, Mattie is my sole focus.  

Because I promised his mother that he would be my world.  

NEXT

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Guarded - Part 2

Master List | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: HI HELLO HOWDY. I know it's been a minute, but I'm STILL WORKING ON THIS REWRITE! And HERE IS THE NEXT PART! Just a reminder that if you get antsy, you can still read the rest of this fic (I'm leaving all the chapters on the master list). I'll just be updating them as I go, and the "Next Part" of the new chapters won't link to an old one so you can see where I am with the update. As always, thank you to the stupendous @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading this for me!

Chapter Rating: T

Warnings: language

Word Count: 4.4k words

Captain Typho led the squad of clones down the elaborate hallways, their boot heels clicking on the flawless marble flooring. Stained glass windows tinted the sunlight shining in, casting various shades of reds and purples across them as they walked in silence.

Crosshair took in the environment around him silently, his eyes scanning every inch of the palace they walked thorugh. It was breathtaking, particularly after he’d spent most of his life on Kamino, then starship after starship, and then of course the Imperial prison that he’d been placed in after attempting to return to the Empire. He shuddered slightly at the memory of the cool, dark cell that he’d been locked in. The single member of his Imperial squad that had escaped from Tipoca City had sealed his fate in the Empire’s eyes. 

Traitor. 

Rampart’s words echoed in his mind. He remembered hanging his head, studying his boots as the realization of his fate sunk in. 

A traitor, but to who?

He was grateful that his brothers had rescued him from the prison, but he was also angry with them, angry that they didn’t come for him sooner, angry that they’d abandoned him in the first place. It seemed like anger was almost all he could feel anymore, but most of it was directed internally.

How much of it was the chip, and how much of it was me?

The Empire had told him his chip was removed from the start, claiming that they’d removed it to test his loyalty as a soldier rather than enhancing it, strengthening it so that he would be helpless to resist it. He’d never questioned that, even as he shot Wrecker while his brothers had tried to escape. He had planned on killing them all, drawing them out one by one, and not for a second did he question this sudden change in loyalty. 

Good soldiers follow orders. Kill the traitors. 

The enhancements to the chip had been so thorough that nothing in his mind had noted the difference. He’d heard Wrecker talk about trying to fight the chip when his own had activated, but Crosshair hadn’t even known to try. He fought back in some ways, but he always thought it was an internal struggle, his “severe and unyielding” nature, as Tech had put it pushing back against something else.

He hadn’t realized that the chip had been damaged by the Venator’s engines, hadn’t known that he’d been able to resist it after that. He just assumed he still had control, unable to differentiate where his own will ended and the chip’s programming began. He hadn’t even noticed the difference in how he viewed his brothers, how he no longer wanted to just kill them or the sudden remorse he felt for shooting Wrecker. He’d always just assumed it was him being conflicted and changing as the Empire evolved.

The most painful thing for Crosshair was that while he hadn’t noticed the abrupt change within himself, neither had his brothers, the ones that knew him best. Of course they’d initially suspected the chip, but when he told them that the chip had been removed, as he believed it had, they didn’t question it. They just believed him, believed that he was capable of the things that he’d done, and that was what tortured him at night as his brothers snored around him. 

They thought I was a monster.

His chip had continued to degrade in the prison, and the headaches became more frequent. By the time Tech and Hunter had burst through his cell door, he’d been curled in a corner, rocking back and forth in agony as his brain felt like it was throwing itself against the inside of his skull. Tech had scanned him as soon as they’d gotten back to the Marauder, finding the bright abnormality in his brain immediately. The look of guilt that they all shared when they saw it crushed him as he realized what they’d thought of him. Now, his fingers absently drifted to graze the uneven scarring pattern on the right side of his head as he rehashed the memories.

Of course I was loyal to the Empire. I had nowhere else to go. And then, when they gave up on me, I had nothing. I still might have nothing, just the illusion of their trust. 

Now, it was as if he was a complete stranger to them, no one knowing the way forward after what they’d endured. Hunter had tried to fall back into their normal routine, almost as if he refused to acknowledge Crosshair being gone in the first place, but it just made the disconnect even more apparent. Wrecker was borderline clingy, constantly trying to joke him out of his foul moods and playfully shoving him to try and regain some sort of normalcy.  Echo very clearly had no idea how to be around him, and Tech was, well…Tech, going about his business as normal, but with the occasional guilty look when he thought Crosshair wasn’t looking. Crosshair suspected he felt the most remorse for not putting the pieces together sooner. 

Omega had oddly been the most tolerable. He hadn’t forgotten what she said as they escaped Tipoca City, and neither had she. She’d been quiet in her attempt to reintegrate him into the team, never really pushing him. The first day back, he’d been sitting quietly in the back of the ship, chewing on one of his fingernails to try and calm his nerves as his eyes darted around the space he’d once called home. Omega had approached quietly, offering him a toothpick from his pack that they’d kept aboard the Marauder. He’d snarled at her as he took it, but immediately popped it between his teeth, chewing it as he mulled over what his future would hold. 

But she stayed. 

After that, she’d sometimes just sit by him quietly tinkering on something or reading on her datapad while he cleaned his rifle, never attempting an unnecessary conversation, but just existing near him in a way that the others seemed incapable of. She’d occasionally ask questions about his weapon, and he’d reflexively be annoyed, but it never seemed to deter her, and after a while, he gave in, describing the modifications he’d made and how the weapon worked. He’d noted Hunter watching them at times, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, which just annoyed Crosshair more. 

He would never admit it, but he missed the kid, even if she was safer in the place she was now. They’d left her at the fledgling rebel base on Yavin 4 to continue her medical training beyond what she’d already learned on Kamino. She was eager to help the rebellion in any way she could, and Crosshair found that admirable, especially in one still so young.

The sniper was snapped out of his own thoughts as he ran into Wrecker’s back. He was immediately annoyed he’d let his thoughts get the better of him and even more annoyed when he noted Wrecker’s wide-eyed wonder. The large clone had stopped to stare up at the stained glass window that they’d just walked past. A woman with dark hair in a long red gown was depicted. The gown appeared to be fur-lined with massive amber gems accenting the hem. A golden headpiece framed her face as her long hair hung down her back. Her expression appeared solemn and, in Crosshair’s opinion, someone grief-stricken. At least as much as a stained-glass depiction could be.

“Is that-” 

“Former Queen Padmé Amidala,” Tech stated. “After serving both of her terms, she served as a senator for Naboo, who died-“

“Serving her people,” Typho interrupted him. The captain’s face was stony, but Crosshair didn’t miss the clench of his fist at his side nor the sadness in his eyes.

“I apologize. You were in her service at the time of her death, correct?” Tech asked.

“I was.”

Hunter stepped forward. “I’m sorry. We never had the privilege of meeting the Senator, but by all accounts, she was kind and fought the good fight. Moreso than a lot of her political counterparts.”

Typho nodded, gazing at the window for another moment before turning wordlessly on his heel to continue down the hall. 

Crosshair knew that look. It was one of a man that felt he had failed, one of guilt that he carried like a brand on his soul. It was a feeling Crosshair was all too familiar with.

They turned down a few more corridors before arriving in a hall that split off into multiple dormitories and suites.

“The queen’s suite is this door here,” Typho said, indicating a large carved wooden door to their left. The door was ornate and seemed mostly decorative, but Crosshair noted the blast door slats that were hidden along the edges of the frame, likely intended to seal in the event of a palace breach. The keypad to the right of the door seemed to be a straightforward biometric interface, one that could likely be overridden by a select few such as the captain in an emergency. 

“Will we be allowed to inspect it for security purposes?” Echo asked, interrupting Crosshair’s observations.

“You may once we get you situated. We had an…incident a few rotations ago, which is the reason why you’re here.” Crosshair noted the captain’s eyes darting towards the keypad as he nervously flexed his fingers at his side. 

He must have had to try out those emergency overrides the other night then. 

Typho continued down the hall to the next door down. “This is the handmaidens’ dormitory. And this,” he said, backtracking to the door closest to the main hallway, “is where you’ll be staying. We’ll give you the codes to get in and out.” Reaching down, he punched a four digit code that Crosshair immediately memorized. Glancing over, he could see Tech noting it in his datapad as well. 

The clones followed Typho into the common area of the suite, which had a set of couches gathered around a low table. There were several bedrooms branching off the main gathering area, and Crosshair rolled his eyes as Wrecker raced into the first bedroom. 

“It’s got its own ‘fresher and everything!” he exclaimed gleefully, poking his head back out of the door with a wide grin.

“Two beds per room, so I’m afraid you’ll have to share,” Typho said apologetically.

Hunter chuckled. “After spending so much time tripping over each other on our ship, that won’t be an issue, Captain. We appreciate the hospitality.”

The captain nodded. “These uniforms are what you shall wear around the palace while you are protecting the Queen.” He gestured at a table where the uniforms had been laid out by the palace staff. Crosshair did his best to not immediately wrinkle his nose at the yellow fabric and brown, seemingly leather armor. 

Those chest plates wouldn’t stop a stiff breeze. And they look like they weigh a ton.  

Wrecker appeared to be far more enthusiastic about their new wardrobe, immediately reaching for the largest helmet, and letting out a whoop when it slid easily onto his head. 

Typho smirked. “We’ve had larger guards in the past, although ones your size are few and far between. However, I’ve been assured that this uniform should fit you, Wrecker.”

“Thanks!” the large clone exclaimed.

The captain glanced around one more time at each of them before turning to Hunter. “I’ll leave you to settle in and get changed. I have other duties I must attend to. I’ll stop back by in a while to brief you further. Until then, I must ask that you not leave this suite unless escorted. There’s a signal pad by the door to summon an aide should you require anything further.” 

Hunter nodded in acknowledgement, and with that, the captain slipped his helmet back on and departed with only the hiss of their door marking his exit.

“Well, this all seems…weird,” Echo said, picking up one of the Naboo armor pieces to inspect it.

“How so?” asked Hunter, neatly stacking his clone armor in one corner before pulling his shirt over his head. 

“Well for starters, the queen’s older than I expected,” Echo noted, setting aside the new armor to start working at the latches on his own chest plate. “I thought all Naboo queens were teenagers. Senator Amidala was only fourteen when she took the job if I remember correctly.”

Tech already had the yellow tunic on and was cinching the provided belt around his waist. “You would be correct, Echo. Typically, the Naboo elect significantly younger queens. However, there have been some exceptions, such as Queen Réillata, who succeeded Senator Amidala. I believe Queen Nodala is actually the oldest monarch elected. She ran on a very anti-occupation platform, stating that she wished to protect Naboo’s sovereignty, which aligned with popular sentiments. Her opponent was much more lenient towards the Imperials. Nodala’s election actually was taken as quite the rebuke of the Empire, which has likely contributed to her ongoing troubles with them.”

“Sure, fine. But why are we here then? They’ve got a whole Palace Guard. What could we be needed for?” Echo muttered, finally managing to get his armor undone. It took him more time to get out of his kit with one hand, but he’d adjusted remarkably in the time since he’d joined their squad, and they all knew better than to offer to help him. 

“I can answer that,” came a voice from behind them. They all turned to find the lieutenant from the throne room standing in the doorway. 

Iden, Crosshair noted mentally. Short. Confident. Observant. 

He’d noticed how her eyes hadn’t stopped scanning them since she’d first been introduced to them, and even now, she appeared to be mentally taking notes as she glanced around the room. He tried not to glare when her eyes passed over him, one eyebrow raising slightly in appraisal before she turned to address Hunter. 

Bit of a bitch, but maybe that comes with the territory of being short in stature and having an authority position. 

“Glad to see your uniforms fit,” she said with a grin, extending a gloved hand to Hunter. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Lieutenant Iden Vena, chief of the Palace Guard and head of security under Captain Typho.”

Hunter clasped her arm, and the rest of them nodded their acknowledgements, introducing themselves one by one. 

“So, what is it you need us for?” Hunter asked. “So far, we’ve been given almost no information.”

“You are required because you can operate outside the bounds of the Naboo guard, even if you’ll be dressed like them,” Iden replied, eyes still roving over the group. “Many of our officers are volunteers, and even though they receive excellent training, it’s become increasingly apparent recently that additional help is needed if we are to protect the queen.”

Hunter nodded. “Captain Typho mentioned a recent incident.”

Iden’s mouth hardened into a thin line. “Did he now?” 

Crosshair watched as her jaw twitched. 

This was personal to her, he thought. Somehow, she feels the failure is hers. And she really doesn’t like feeling like a failure. 

Iden took a deep breath, clearly weighing how much to tell them without her commanding officer present. Finally, she sighed, meeting Hunter’s eyes. “There was a lapse in our security. We have not completed the investigation yet, but it appears the rotation schedule was tampered with, although we have yet to identify how. Either way, an assassin was able to breach our external perimeter, scale the outer walls, and make it into the queen’s private quarters through a window.”

“Well, they clearly didn’t succeed, so at least your security held up where it counted,” Echo attempted to counter, but Iden shook her head, seeming to cringe.

“Actually, the queen was the one who shot him. We arrived moments later. He died before we could interrogate him.”

Echo and Wrecker’s mouths fell open slightly and Hunter and Tech exchanged a look. Even Crosshair felt his eyebrow raise in surprise. 

The queen can handle herself apparently.

“There have been other attempts on the queen’s life of course,” Iden continued quickly. “That comes with being the leader of a planet, but they’ve become more frequent and more well-planned. This was the closest they’ve come, and we fear there will be more, which is why we’ve brought you in.”

“Who would want to do this?” Hunter asked.

Iden gave him a hard look. “We have our suspicions, but we are still investigating who could be responsible. As for motive, all I can say is that it is a resources dispute.”

Crosshair’s teeth clamped down on his toothpick in annoyance. 

She’s lying.

“Not telling us what’s going on makes our job harder. You’ve got to know that,” Echo grumbled, echoing Crosshair’s own thoughts.

“I understand, but that is all I am able to tell you at this time,” Iden replied curtly, glowering at Echo.

Definitely a bit of a bitch.

The tension grew as the silence stretched out until Tech stepped forward, datapad in hand. “We were told we would be able to inspect the queen’s quarters. I’d like to get an idea of what your surveillance system looks like.”

Iden shot him a glare as well, but Tech didn’t appear to notice as he continued punching buttons on his datapad. Echo tried a more gentle tack. 

“It’ll give us a better idea of how we can help you.” 

The lieutenant narrowed her eyes, giving Echo a once over before finally nodding. 

“Very well. This way please.”

Iden led them back down the hall and through the large wooden door. She used a code to enter, which Crosshair found interesting. 

They must only use the biometrics for emergency entry. That makes sense. Probably on a separate circuit as well. Harder to fake those than an access code.

He did find himself annoyed that Iden cast a glance back over her shoulder before she managed to block his view of the keypad completely. It made sense from a security perspective, but it only seemed to drive home the point that they were outsiders, others brought in to help while not being given the full weight of the Naboo Guard’s trust. 

Fine then.

The room itself was simple enough with a line of windows that looked out over the private gardens on the palace grounds, a few decorative paintings and tapestries, and a large bed tucked against one wall with matching nightstands flanking it. There was a small hallway that led back towards a connected private refresher with a massive closet tucked next to it, and at the end of the hall was a small private office that the queen presumably used when it was more convenient than working at the desk in the throne room.

Tech and Echo spoke with Iden in hushed voices, going over the layout of the security system while Hunter and Wrecker inspected the various rooms. Crosshair leaned against the window, peering out at the grounds below. Remembering Iden’s description of how the attacker got into the room, he walked along the line of windows, trying to find the entry point of the assailant. At the place where the windows met the exterior wall of the room, he found where he believed the man must have climbed up. The windows ended near a decorative stone column that protruded off the building, framing the edge of an arch that extended over the windows. There was just enough of a ledge where someone could have a finger hold that would allow them to haul themselves up and through the window. As the sniper’s eyes scanned the architecture, he noted a small indentation driven into the stone. 

They had climbing gear. They planned this well in advance and knew what they were doing. 

Leaning up against the window, he looked down. It was about a fifteen story drop to the gardens below. There was a line of trees that probably would have kept the assassin concealed from view for the first few meters, but they still would have been completely exposed for a majority of the climb.

They must have scaled the wall quickly in order to not be seen by the incoming guards. Or the guards were too stupid to note someone on the side of the building. 

He pressed his fingertips against the windows, glancing at the mechanisms that allowed them to open. 

Locked from the inside, thick glass, wouldn’t have been able to shoot it out with a single blaster bolt, and they knew it.  

“How did the assassin get through the window?” he asked, and the room went silent. He felt irritation twist his gut, but shrugged it off as his brothers and Iden all turned and stared at him. He’d rarely spoken to them unprompted since his return, so hearing him ask a question was understandably somewhat of a surprise. That didn’t stop him from being annoyed by their reactions. 

They want normalcy, but when I speak, they act like I’ve grown a second head. 

He clenched his teeth a little tighter around the toothpick, but said nothing further.

Iden stepped forward, pointing at the pane at the end of the line of windows. “We believe he used some sort of device to disable the window lock from the outside, although we haven’t been able to determine what yet.”

Tech walked up to the window, adjusting his goggles as he inspected the locks. “This would have required a rather simple apparatus to de-magnetize the locking mechanism and enable the intruder to open the locks. It would not even register as a perimeter breach in the system, so an alarm would never have been triggered.” He turned to look at Iden, who was clearly struggling with the “simple” part of his statement.

“We didn’t really anticipate someone scaling the side of the building. The locking is mainly to keep them closed should there be a concussive explosion near the palace during an attack. The glass is blast-proof.”

Tech said nothing as he contemplated the information for a moment. “And now? Have there been changes to protocols in light of these recent events?”

“We’re working on replacing the locking devices with something more sophisticated,” Iden replied, clearly on her back foot in this exchange and not pleased about it.

“Excellent.”

Echo and Hunter exchanged a look. “So, how did the rest of the incident play out?” the clone sergeant asked.

Just then, the door behind them opened, and Captain Typho entered. “Ah, good. You got started with the inspection.”

“I was just asking for the details on the incident you mentioned,” Hunter repeated.

Typho walked to the bed, turning to face the window. “The queen was asleep but was startled awake by the sound of the window lock disengaging and the window opening. She said she sat up, saw the intruder, got out of bed, and took shelter behind this nightstand.” He let his gloved hand rest on the wooden surface of the nightstand as he stepped through the scenario. Crosshair noted how small the nightstand was. 

She would have had to crouch down very low and hug the wall tightly to hide. Either the assassin is a terrible shot or the queen is incredibly lucky. Perhaps both.

Typho continued. “The queen was able to retrieve her weapon from her nightstand drawer. The intruder got up on the bed, standing over her. At that point, the queen decided to…erm…tackle him.”

“Tackle him?” Echo asked, stunned. Wrecker let out an approving laugh, a smile creeping across his face.

“Yes. She managed to incapacitate him and hang on to her weapon. She attempted to subdue him, but he did not comply, and she was forced to shoot him. He died before he could be interrogated further.” Typho’s eyes rested on a particular spot on the floor, clearly replaying the moment in his head. Crosshair assumed that was where they’d found the assailant, and an amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he imagined the scene.

The captain must have been absolutely fraught, walking in on the queen in her nightgown with a dead man underneath her. It was obvious to him that the queen and the captain shared a close relationship, although to what extent, he couldn’t be sure. Close enough to where she’s fine pushing his buttons in front of unfamiliar company, and close enough to where he feels comfortable pushing back against her, however subtly. He flicked the toothpick between his teeth to the other side of his mouth as he pictured the amount of force the queen would have had to hit the assassin with in order to tackle him, much less subdue him. It was hard to imagine the woman they’d met in the throne room doing such a thing, but her being alive was enough of a confirmation of what she could do. A woman capable of that hardly needs a security force, he mused internally.

Hunter was stroking his chin as he considered the scenario. “I understand you’re upping your security system on the windows. What other measures have you taken since the attack?”

“Each rotation schedule is signed off manually now. We no longer rely on the automated systems to generate it, so there should never be another gap to allow someone to penetrate our patrol area. In addition, we’ve doubled patrols for redundancy. We have a team inspecting all of our other security measures to audit any other shortfalls we may have, and any changes we make are being kept confidential among the security force. We would welcome your input on that as well.” Hunter turned to Tech who nodded in agreement.

“And then there’s you. We’d like to have one of you stationed with the queen at all times during the day, and then of course, you’ll be right down the hall at night. We plan on installing a panic alarm on the nightstand here that would allow her to alert you should something occur.”

Hunter bobbed his head in understanding. “Alright. We will work up a guard rotation schedule and supply you with it.”

“That would be most helpful and appreciated.”

Crosshair noted Tech had wandered back to the window and was inspecting the locking mechanisms again. As his brother fiddled with the controls, he watched as the window opened slowly. One thing about the entire exercise caught his attention, sticking in the back of his mind. 

The window unlatched without any sound at all.

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*If you do not wish to be tagged in this rewrite, please let me know (same goes for Reunion)

[mxtantrights]

the sequel press conference

this is a snippet from the famous dc!au that started with The Greatest Hits [read here] you don’t have to read it but a lot of things would make sense if you do! hope you enjoy.

Having a press conference for the sequel to your highly anticipated movie should be a good thing. You should be happy. You get to sit among the cast and Dent, and talk about the film you all made together.

But this isn't a happy occasion. Dent reached out to both you and Jason about doing a conference about the halting of your movie you were disappointed. You had thought he and all the other powerful people in cinema has talked Lex down from whatever master plan he was implementing. That didn't happen.

So now here you are about to walk out onto a podium with your cast and director to speak to the world. None of you had the answers but you did owe it to the fans to let them know how hard everyone worked on the movie and to tell them how badly you want it to be released.

"Hey," Jason says from besides you and tangles his fingers with yours, "it's gonna be okay, we're not the bad guys here."

You nod your head, "I know, I know. But still. I mean so many people are waiting for this movie to come out. So many people on set haven't been paid."

"Hey it can't all be on you. Today our only job is to talk about how much we love our film and will do anything to get it released." Jason speaks.

You squeeze his hand in yours. He squeezes it back.

"Okay everyone we're on. Remember we have the name cards on the table!" Dent shouts.

And with that you and Jason let go of each other. There was also that. You two were not public. Not yet. The two of you have talked about it over and over. While yo both agree that the publicity of your relationship isn't something that would scare either of you, there was no 'right' time to reveal it to the world.

Or, you should say, to the rest of the world. For all intents and purposes Jason's family knows, so does yours, Harley, Pamela and Dent are also on the list of people who know. Along with Selina Kyle, Iris West-Allen, and somehow Lois Lane.

Really it was just a matter of time before you told the public. It's not like they didn't have their own theories. There are YouTube clips of the two of you, paparazzi shots, one time Tim sent you a blog dedicated to decoding the body language between you and Jason.

You follow behind Jason as all of you head out in a single file line onto the podium. It's Jason, you and then Dent at the very tail end of the table. When you finally sit down you have to remind yourself to smile a bit.

Dent clears his throat and leans into the mic.

"Hello everyone, I'm here along with the cast of the incredible movie Love On The Mend to talk about the recent studio changes and the affects on the movie." Dent starts.

All of a sudden a clamor of reporters start talking, throwing out questions. There's flashing lights that are way to bright and make you have to blink away the blurry dots in your vision.

"Woah wash woah, let me just get through what I know and then we can take questions afterwards." Dent speaks into the mic.

The reporters seem to calm down after that. You watch as some of them who have seats sit down. The rest that are regulated to stand seem to remain in place.

"As of now, we do not know when our movie is coming out. The recent change in leadership has ordered a whole new slate to work on and we're not sure when we can get back to finish filming," Dent says and then he looks over at the whole cast, "I know how lucky I am to get a cast like this. And I know their talent has been recognized by others. We hope that we can get everyone on schedule in order to shoot the ending."

"Now I do want to speak on the current strike held by the union and that is being funded by many head honchos. I stand firm in my support of those on strike. Without a contract that is fair and pays well earned wages to those who show up to work every day and night movies don't get made. I think our cast member down on the left can speak to this a bit more." Dent finishes and points over to the end.

Of course, Nyssa. Prior to coming in front of the camera she worked as directors aid for years. Her own father, Ra's. You had read the article in The Sun that she did basically outlining how bad it was to mix family and work, especially with a man like Ra's.

"Hi there. I'm Nyssa al Ghul. I'm one of several leaders of the strike and I want to say thank you to the people like Harvey and Bruce Wayne who have seriously stepped in to help us. When powerful men like Lex Luthor think they can step in with their money and change things to their likings, they think they won't get push back. I'm glad the union has showed him how untrue that is. So long as our demands aren't being met and Luthor remains banal in his takeover, we will not roll over." she says.

You start clapping before anyone else. And it's Jason that gets up and starts the standing ovation in the room. It takes a while for everyone to calm down again and get back to their seats. You even see Nyssa's girlfriend Sara in the crowd cheering her on.

"With that I will say, I signed a contract with 20th century, not Lex Luthor. Are there any questions?" Dent asks.

The room goes off again. Dent points out one of the reporters in the front row.

"Daily Bugle, all of the cast and crew have expressed their concern over the merger and their support for the strike. What are you willing to give in order to get back on set?"

Dent almost laughs but catches himself.

"Obviously we went the strike to go well. And if that does happen, then we want Luthor to resist his overlord tendencies. But that seems impossible at the moment. I'm not willing to give up the trust these people have in me as director and as human being." Dent answers.

Another report pipes up, "What do you say to reports that Bruce Wayne is attempting a buy-out?"

Jason laughs. Dent looks over at him and nods at him to take the question. So Jason leans into the mic on the table.

"As much as my father would like to, he won't interfere unless absolutely needed in regard to his duties and certain relationships. But I do know that he does have enough to buy back the studio and still be richer than Lex so..." Jason jokes.

The room erupts in laughter. You look over at him and you know there is a stupidly big smile on your face. When he sits back he looks right at you and send you a wink.

"Fans want to know if, pending the release of the sequel, if you will make it a trilogy?"

Dent actually does laugh at that.

"I don't have any plans for that right now but I will say this is a talented bunch and if they all want to come back and make magic together then I'm up for anything." Dent answers.

Then a reporter calls out your name.

"Since this is your first sequel and first Hollywood strike, how does everything feel?"

You lightly chuckle and lean into the mic, "I'm feeling great honestly. I still know how to make espresso so trust me I'm secure."

The press roars in laughter again, so does everyone on the panel. You even see Dent tip his head back to laugh.

"In all seriousness, I know how this affects me but I wouldn't even begin to understand how it affects those on strike and their everyday lives. When the time comes to return to set I'll be happy, but I know I'm even happier to not cross the picket line." you answer.

You sit back. You steal a glance on the left and see Nyssa holding her thumbs up. When you look over at Jason he's got a cheesy look on his face. All he does is raise his eyebrows and you know exactly what he means to say. You scold him a bit and then you face front.

More questions are thrown out. Two of them addressed to you which you answer with poise and lighthearted jokes. Jason answers too, budding in with a quick line about Lex here and there. Yeah you knew he had a score to settle with the man since his father is Luthor's second enemy behind Clark Kent.

The conference starts to wind down when Dent announces that the next question will be the last. A few reporters leap at the chance to get the last question but Dent only chooses one.

A lady dressed in a bright red suit. She looks breathtakingly beautiful and you have to do a double take.

"Hey Dent." she says.

Dent clears his throat and sits up properly in his chair. You watch in mild confusion and intrigue. You've never seen someone command Dent like that with just two words. Or you have, but that was usually Harley and Pamela.

"Shiva." he says.

You look over at Jason. He confirms the tension with a nod of his head. You look back straight.

"I have a question for the wonderful co-stars." she clarifies.

Dent nods. You wave at her with a smile which she returns. Jason nods his head once at her.

"I have it on good authority that you two are in talks to star opposite each other in another rom com. Any comments?" she asks.

You're not sure what authority she heard that from but it wasn't true. At some point after the strike your agent sent you some things to look at but none of them were rom coms. And none of them involved Jason as your co-star, as far as you know.

But suddenly a thought comes to mind. You look over at Jason a smirk on your face. This was it. He mouths over at you 'right time?' and you nod your head. He smiles and slowly slides your chair closer to his. It almost makes you drool, with how suave he is with it.

Like he had been waiting to do it. You lean into his microphone now, yours long forgotten.

"We're actually in a rom-com right now. But that's private at the moment and all I can say on the matter." you answer.

And somehow the room erupts louder than before. But you and Jason are already getting up along with the rest of the cast and Dent. You all are making your way off the podium and into the makeshift green room.

Jason grabs your hand. And you let him. You intertwine your fingers together and head out with everyone.

[popcornforone]

Taming His Curls

Chapter 4 of the Is That All Mr Gutierrez? Serise

Master list

Chapter three

It’s here, finally, the chapter you’ve all been waiting for is here. The moment has arrived. Thank you all for putting up with the 3 chapter introduction but this is when things get moving.

Synopsis: Saturday Nights are just you & Javi cooking & watching Movies as best friends. But the words from your chat with Javis dad are still fresh in your ears, maybe tonight is the night to act on those wants.

Word count:3500

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18! Protected PIV Sex, unrequited love, teasing, flirting, finally getting together, swearing, alcohol, this is your first time with Javi so lost of moaning & praising & descriptive language. It’s going to get very very hot & sexy, but don’t worry, I won’t break our softie…(that’s why I also write about Dave hehe)

As always thank you for the read peoples, all feedback is really appreciated. Enjoy, this is what you all wanted after all

“Bollocks” you shout as the plate smashes on the floor. It was the last item to go in the dishwasher too after dinner & it was only a plate you used to rest the steaks you had cooked for you & Javi on. You now do Saturday nights as best friends & have done so for a while. You do your own thing during the day but Saturday night you stay at Javis. You sleep over in your bedroom, the one you use when he sometimes entertains & needs you there for business. In the past you have watched jealousy at girls Javi has taken back to his room so he can seduce them, while you head back you yours. You’ve moved a few items into his villa for comfort reasons but he’s never actually asked you to move in.

Saturday night is pretty standard routine for you both now, so much so that if one of you have plans for a Saturday the other gets a little jealous. Javi will give you a glass of champagne on your arrival & he will ask how your days been. No matter how mundane it sounds he hangs on your every word like it’s the most important day in the world. Then you cook together, taking it in turns to teach each other how to cook. His chef is always on the end of the phone if you need him, but Javi always gives him Saturday & Sundays off so he can be with his own family, not just waiting for him to feel peckish. Once you’ve cooked eaten & cleaned up together, you take it in turns to pick which film you are going to watch together. Cocktails or more wine accompanying any movie snacks you decide to have.

It started off with the 100 films before you die list then moved into Nicholas Cage movies, obviously, but now you’re both going through your top 10s. Last Saturday you picked Gone Girl & Javi enjoyed the film but had so many questions about how women’s minds work after it was over. You told him it was the extreme version of it but you do have some of those qualities, which shocked him a little. He must know after all you’ve been through that you have a few of those traits. You know tonight he will probably put something calming on after all the thrillers you’ve recently viewed together, him spilling his sweet popcorn multiple times as he jumps when he’s trying to not be scared.

“You okay” Javi says as he wipes down the surface after you dropped the plate. “Yes Javi, just it would be the last thing wouldn’t it, typical” “well it could have happened after it had been cleaned, at least now it doesn’t need washing” he teases as he try’s to remember where his house keeper keeps a broom or dustpan. You know full well what he needs is under his sink, but you watch him hunt for it for a good 3mins giggling. This makes him flap & get all self conscious, but also playful, a smirk falls across the face you wish was yours to admire intimately. “You know where it is, don’t you?” He inquires & your smile gives your game away, you can’t lie to Javi. He starts to run around the kitchen after you “I will tickle the information out of you” he cackles. Those curls being even more playful than he is as they bounce on his head “ahhh please no tickles Javi, it’s under the sink.” You shriek as he grabs you & starts to tickle, which makes your body go all unnecessary & causes goosebumps to appear all over it. That is just from a tickle you think, how good would his lips feel?

Javi cleans up the broken plate & you laugh as you watch him do this. These normal nights as he calls them, are to make Javi appreciate a life that others have. Okay it’s still in a massive Spanish villa & he can cook whatever he wants, but it’s so he appreciates life is something you have to work at & arent just spoon fed it. He’s getting better at cleaning & sorting things but there are some points when he’s flapping about failing which makes you laugh. “See that wasn’t so hard Javi” you say. You grab the half drunk bottle of red wine & your glass & head to his lounge.

His lounge is grand, a fireplace the roars in winters, sofas that are the epitome of comfortable, book cases full of storys, art that is worth more than you will earn in your life time, sculptures & decorations & a massive TV with access to anything you want. This is always when you’re most envious of Javi. You never had this growing up. Your parents having hotels meant all the money for luxury’s like this were for the guests to use not you, or where you lived in the hotel didn’t have the space for things like this. It could have been much grander your life but your parents always taught you your worth & your place, especially when your best friend, Javi, was spoiled with everything. You go to his baby grand piano & quickly look through the post he received today, still thinking about Monday at work in your mind, when Javi walks in.

“Is it my turn to pick tonight?” He asks as he pour himself another glass of red. “Yes Javi, back to your favourites that don’t include Nicolas Cage as we’ve watched them all” you smirk & watch him flick through his services & channels as you take up your seat on the sofa for film night. “Don’t laugh precious, when I tell you this… but I want to watch… Paddington” you just smile… “finally a good choice from you” He pulls his pouty face. “I’m still shocked that you’ve done them out of order though, we should have done Paddington before Paddington 2” you state. “I didn’t realise we could do our favourite films in any order, I was just going from 1 to 10” he laughs as he sits down next to you. He’s in his stripy shirt with his white vest on underneath. He’s clearly been swimming today & let his hair dry naturally as it’s got a mind of it’s own tonight, & it’s desperately calling out for you to touch, twist & play with it, & with eyes that big & brown looking at you so sweetly it’s hard not to.

You don’t say a word. You lean over & pin that curl back, so it’s behind his ear & you can see his whole body tremble at your touch. His breathing gets faster & you can see the rising of his chest, as you softly touch him. “Oh Javi” you sigh & turn to face the tv so he can’t see how flustered you are yourself getting your self comfortable for the movie. “What I would give just to play with & sort your curls out” your shocked the words have so easily flown out of your mouth, but you’re also secretly happy that they have. This is the first step to grabbing what you want. You then slowly feel Javis hand grasp yours which is by your side & lift it to his face. You often touch each other but tonight everything is just working in your favour & his hand feels sensational. “I never said you couldn’t?” Javi softly replies.

You don’t go for his hair instead you adjust so you’re facing him & caress his face, feeling each freckle & blemish across his cheek. His stubble prickles against your hand, but it makes you shiver even more. Your hand eventually goes into his hair & you hear a large sigh, like he’s letting go of the world that is on his shoulders & he leans in resting his forehead against yours. Both of you sit there in silence for a few moments, just breathing, inhaling each other, eyes shut in a moment of peace. Javi whispers “plays baby, I want you to”. You lift your head up & open your eyes & flutter your eyelashes at him & see the biggest smile beaming back from the most adorable puppy dog eyes.

Neither of you are sure who makes the move first but the second your lips connect, for the sweetest most wanted kiss in all the universe, you both instantly feel like you are on the cliffs that night as teenagers again. He feels so good. His lips feel like they are back where they belong, embracing yours. Your hand goes into the back of his hair, making him gasp as his own hand delicately strokes you neck. The passion, fire & love you’ve both hidden away for the last 15 years or so, survived everything & your connection & desire for each other is confirmed. When you eventually break, both of you are trembling with your lips quivering, desperate for another taste of the person you have both been in love with the whole time, but never admitted it to each other.

“Javi…” you whimper not wanting to open your eyes to confirm if it’s just been another fantasy or not. You voice squeaks & then you hear him try to control his own breathing. “Look at me baby” he coos & your eyes are greeted to eyes that are welling up, pools of emotion ready to flow out after what the two of you experienced for the last few seconds. “Let’s make up for lost time” he says once he can see how beautiful you look & how your eyes reply back with the same love that he’s hidden away from you. “We have all the time in the world Javi” you reply before he pulls you back into him for a much longer & deeper kiss.

Both your hands wander, across each others faces, hair & shoulders. Oooh the feeling of Javis broadness as you caress him makes you want more than just some delicate kisses. He always smells good, but now his scent intoxicates you. There’s still a small amount of the wine on both your lips adding to the richness & taste of your embrace. He is comfort & now he’s finally going to be yours. “I’ve waited so long…” are a panting Javis next words as he removes his shirt & starts to find the hem of your tshirt. “I’ve wanted this forever”. Your initial look of shock changes into one of, I know exactly what you mean, which makes him smile & makes those eyes dance & dazzle. “It’s always been you Javi” you reply softly almost as a hushed secret that you are finally sharing with him.

His hands brush you skin with the slightest touch as your T-shirt is removed, your waisting little time removing his white vest as well. You marvel & trace across his chest, & his tummy. You’re both feeling so self conscious about your bodies, but it’s the smile on the others face that make you both open up more to the idea of this. Neither of you are saying anything anymore. Gasps & sighs at each touch admiring the others natural beauty. The clank of his belt buckle being undone by your hand so carefully, arousing you & awaking your passions inside. Your own shorts join his trouser, flung on-top of the sofa as he holds you close. He looks you up & down, looking at you body being needy & desperate for it all. Javi has been waiting for this moment for as long as you have & as he holds you, he can’t quite believe that this is finally going to happen. His eyes are full of wonder.

“Javi, my loyal sweet Javi” you finally moan, eyes transfixed on the man you adore “I want this, I want you, I’ve always wanted you, but you were always just out of reach” “shhhh” Javi says raising a finger to your mouth to keep you quiet, he presses it firm & you gasp. “Nothing can ruin this moment” he says & he looks at you as you take his hands to help him unclasp your bra. “If you help me take this off, there’s no going back Javi, the genie is out of the bottle, it’s can’t be put back in”. “I’d better get more than 3 wishes” that’s Javis response, but it’s the feel of your breasts being free & the look of desire in his eyes as he try’s not to gawp at them. The delight in his eyes can’t be understated as one of his large palms instantly moves towards them. Teasing you nipple making your hips instantly move at his teasing touch.

“Oooh baby, you’ve kept these from me, how could you” Javis smile is small but it’s making his moustache twitch, all of the hairs on his body are standing to attention ready for the next wave of pleasure to hit him. You’re so close to each other, kissing & caressing, that you don’t think you actually need to have sex with your Javi. This make out & tease is enough for you. But it’s not, because a few seconds later his other hand glides down your back & into your knickers, squeezing your arse cheeks & it makes you want it all. As much as this has been more than perfect, you still want the ultimate & you want it to feel fantastic. Javi wants to treat you like the princess & love he has always seen you as & he slowly slips his hand into the trousers that are hanging off the back of the sofa, producing a condom.

He goes to ask you for consent as your lips part & he doesn’t need to say a word. “If you want to, I want to baby, please it’s all I’ve wanted for years” you say firmly. His hand joins yours to remove your knickers, already damp from your passionate make out. His large flat thumb, once you are naked, finds your clit straight away to keep you aroused as each touch across you sex has you already wanting more & more, almost feeling ready to climax already. This unrequited love is finally getting its rewards. Javi shimmy’s off his boxers but you don’t look at his length, you are in too much of a haze already to want to know what’s coming your way. You know it’s going to be enjoyable due to the outline from his swim shorts when he gets out of the pool each morning.

Everything is a bit of a passionate blur, you’re already on a high. But you hear the foil tear & see his face turn very serious quite quickly as he makes sure to pull you into his lap as you just hover above him, ready to take him, your chests heaving together. “Baby your my world” Javi whispers into your ear, one hand in your hair untying it, allowing your own locks escape, the other on the small of your back, stroking your spine ever so slightly. He lowers you slowly & no sound escapes your mouth, but it goes oooooooo, as he fills you. The pinch feels just right, you know your pleasure is going to enjoy this even if this is a one off to never be spoken of again come Sunday morning. You are finally making love to Javi Gutierrez.

Javis breathing has spiked, as he looks at the blissed out look on your face as he holds you into him. “You okay?” Hushed words fall from his lips before you nod & eventually a strained “yes Javi” escapes from you. He makes sure that you are skin on skin & slowly starts to rock underneath you while you grind down onto him. You walls fluttering at every motion, trying desperately not to let go within the first few minutes but you can see the look in Javis eyes too. He also wants to take his time with this & enjoy you & the seductive love he hopes you will both make together, but he has also been waiting & hoping this moment would be as good as it currently is. Each movement your body’s merge, the sweat drips from you both & the movements even though you are both trying to savour every moment get faster, harder & deeper. You hope that should you both not wake up filled with regret tomorrow that you can enjoy something much slower & seductive than this. But this itch needs to be scratched.

You both give in & you really start to bounce & he holds you firmly in place while you start to moan & take the hand not playing with his curls to you clit, to add to your satisfaction. “Javi oooh Javi baby, just there yea that’s it, don’t stop, never stop” you moan as your eyes close knowing you are on the edge of your orgasm. “Your so tight precious, ooh baby girl ooh yes” Javi is grunting, squeezing your arse, eyes when they are not closed from desire pulsing through his entire body, are looking at your breasts, just waiting for his mouth to engulf them & suck. He doesn’t want to just spoil himself with it all tonight. He is also hoping that this is just the beginning of something that will bloom.

“Javi don’t stop, make me feel good, oh this is just just…just…” your voice strains feeling yourself go weak & quiver on his lap. Letting go of everything. You body leans backwards & Javi stops you from falling off him or taking him with you in the sofa & you moan in pleasure as your orgasm hits you, clamping around Javi, feeling the most satisfied you have ever felt in your life. Javi doesn’t take long to follow, the look on your face & the intensity surrounding his penis, is all it takes for his own earth shattering climax. A deep moan comes from the back of his throat, which arouses you & pulls you back into the real world as you slowly stop & rest your head in his shoulders. It had finally happened. Javi had pleasured you & the sex had been sensational. Yes it might have been over far too quickly for the two of you, but you had a feeling that would be the case. All those years of pining & wanting & needing each other was always going to build up to something that would be sexy & fast, no matter how much you tried to calm it & take it slowly. That was never going to happen.

Slowly you’re both returning to your normal selves, you eyes fluttering at each other, realising what you’ve both just done. Your lives are never going to be the same now. Both of you are panting & are coated in sweat & smell of sex. “Hello stranger” Javi eventually whispers “Hello Handsome” is your reply followed by the two of you both giggling, before that curl gets back in the way. “Ooh Javi what ever am I going to do with your curls?” You say as you twist it & try to put it where it should go in his hair, but you both know it won’t. “Well I think you might have to stick around to contain them baby, fancy sticking around forever, to look after my curls?” He says his thumb trailing across your lips tentatively going inside ever so slightly, to send shivers up yous spine.

“Forever?” You reply & then smile “yea i think I could do that, I think I could definitely do that” the smile on his face is one of unbridled joy as he once again claims your lips with his. Much more passionate & loving, feeling like they were made to just kiss your lips only. Nothings coming between you. His hand keeping you in place making you as close as you can be, as you feel his penis which is still inside you start to harden again, which makes you gasp. “Good answer my precious. Forever starts tomorrow”. Javis response is all you both hear before your love making resumes for one more round for long kisses, hands caressing bodies before you both eventually retire to his bed. You are no longer jealous of the girl he takes to his bedroom to seduce. Finally that girl is you.

Chapter Five

[lindevi]

Media Favorites of 2023

Who can't believe that 2023 is nearly over? *raises hand* As the year winds down, this seems like the time to reflect on the things that helped us or brought us joy. The following is a list (not exhaustive) of my favorite apps, books, music, TV, and video games from the last year, including many that I would recommend to others. You can find my list from 2021 here. (I missed compiling this list in 2022, in no small part because I was sampling eastern Germany’s best Christmas Markets all through December.)

Apps

Airalo. My new go-to for international data, but you’ll need an unlocked phone. I was able to save a ton of money by setting up a second e-SIM to access Japanese mobile data networks. (It cost $10 for 10GB of data across 30 days, which was plenty for the week I spent there, and much cheaper compared to my phone plan’s offerings.) I wish I’d heard of this before my trips to England and Europe this year, but I was able to try it out in Japan successfully. I’ll definitely be making use of this app when traveling in the future. The only downside is that I can’t have both e-sims active, so I had to restart my phone in order to check my text messages. Luckily, most communication is done over apps these days instead of SMS, so I wasn’t missing much.

​Reverso. This app pulled more than its weight for me while I was traveling abroad this summer. The thing I liked most about it is how it pulls up example sentences so you can help see the context and usage of a given word. It also saves your searches for you, so if you were a more disciplined language student than me, you could write down any new vocabulary in a notebook to study later. Also, it’s free and works fairly well offline, and it’s able to handle multiple languages in the same app.

Vivino. When in France, drink as the French do, I suppose. But when you’re at the supermarket trying to decide between the many, many wines available for less than 10€, this app helps to narrow down the field. Scanning the label gives you the user score for that vintage, plus a personalized rating for how it compares to previous wines you’ve enjoyed. By rating the wines I tried, I was able to get a better sense of my preferred styles and remember which labels to avoid in the future. It was also excellent to have on hand when we went to Bordeaux and sampled various Grand Crus. The app helped me to get a sense for how much those bottles would fetch back home, and whether it was worth it to buy it in France to bring home or to seek it out at my local liquor store.

Books

​Dracula by Bram Stoker. The vampire book that started it all (well, not quite), this one really does live up to its reputation as a classic. A few years ago, I read Stoker’s The Jewel of Seven Stars and enjoyed it tremendously (it even served as the inspiration for a Dark Sun one-shot scenario I wrote based around Queen Tara), so I’m not sure what took me so long to get to Dracula. The epistolary style is really well done and should serve as a reference point for any game masters who long to add handouts to their campaigns. It’s inspired me to try running Night’s Black Agents in the new year.

Rivers of London by Ben Aaronovitch. Apparently this book is the first in an urban fantasy series I’ve been sleeping on for some time. The easy comparison is Storm Front, the first book in the Dresden Files, but I have to say that this one comes out on top re: modern wizard investigator stories, mostly because of the protagonist’s sense of humor and the audiobook narrator’s brilliant delivery. I think fans of British TV will find themselves very much at home with this book. I had the happy accident of being in London while reading this, and I had been exploring Covent Garden and the alleys surrounding the Royal Opera House immediately before reading the finale, which helped tremendously when picturing the final scenes.

Slaying the Dragon by Ben Riggs. With the news of the recent Hasbro layoffs affecting the D&D team at Wizards of the Coast, this book feels like required reading to understand some of the boom and bust cycles of D&D (although, sadly, D&D seems to be doing better than ever, and the layoffs appear to be mandated to help cover losses elsewhere in the company). It’s hard to fact-check/cross-reference this book because so much of it is original research and interviews done by the author, but that’s precisely why it’s a must-read for fans of the franchise.

Music

All Quiet on the Western Front (Soundtrack from the Netflix Film). One word: haunting. The main “melody” is extremely simplistic, but it fits the subject matter so well. I also recommend the movie if you play any 20th century-based wargames or read any history. I found it interesting that this was only the first time a German production company adapted it from the book.

Seelie by CLANN. I’m not sure how to categorize this album, except it’s incredibly ambient and dark and pagan (especially Celtic). The tracks all kind of blend together in a good way, making it excellent for writing or focus work.

Gris (Original Game Soundtrack). Another great soundtrack I put on repeat this year, mostly while reading. It’s melancholic, sweeping, hopeful. I’ve never played the video game, but if it’s half as good as the score, it’ll be quite good.

Movies/TV

​Barbie. I went for a “Barbenheimer” double-feature this summer, and I did not expect Barbie to hit way harder than Oppenheimer did. Ryan Gosling might have stolen the show, but the story and the feels really made this movie stay with us. Coming from a franchise development/IP approval perspective (and this is where I have to do the disclaimer that my opinions are my own, I’m not speaking on behalf of my employer Asmodee), I’m shocked that Mattel let this get made, but I’m so glad they did.

Blue Eye Samurai. (Netflix) I had little idea this was coming until a few weeks before the release, but this show blew me away and shattered any expectations I had for it. The character development, the animation, the voice acting, the themes… it’s hard to find faults with the show (although, perhaps Mizu’s ending was unexpected). If you enjoy samurai cinema or anime, if you’re at all interested in the history of Japan, or if you’re simply an appreciator of animation, this is a must-watch.

​Vienna Blood. (PBS) I like to joke that I have a grandmother’s taste in TV, because BBC/ITV period dramas make up so much of my streaming diet, but this is a mystery/detective show first and foremost. Instead of Sherlock and Watson, you’ve got Detective Rheinhardt and Max Liebermann. Max is a Jew in 1900s Vienna and a student of Freud’s work, with the psychoanalysis lending the show an interesting frame, but I’ve also really appreciated how important his family is to the show. I’ve found it really fascinating how they explore the many peoples of the Austro-Hungarian empire before its collapse, and it’s made me want to run a Cthulhu by Gaslight campaign in Vienna (elements of which I might pull forward into the NBA game).

Video Games

​Baldur’s Gate 3. (PC) It shouldn’t come as a surprise that someone whose hobbies center on Dungeons & Dragons and other roleplaying games should thoroughly enjoy this game, but I’m certain that even folks who have never rolled a d20 will be delighted by this CRPG from Larian Studios. The writing and voice performances are phenomenal, and the sheer amount of content (and thus, replayability) is staggering. I’ve logged over 60 hours playing and can easily see myself playing for 60 more. I’ve only just started Act II, so no spoilers, please!

Horizon: Forbidden West. (PS5) I was a bit of a latecomer to this game after it released in 2023, but once I started, I could barely put it down. Amazing characters? Check. Phenomenal gameplay? Check. Open-world exploration that actually evokes the feeling of discovery? Check. My only quibble is that the story isn’t quite as brilliant as the first game, but given that the first game was a masterpiece and easily in my top 5 games of all time, that’s a high bar to clear. I admit I bought a PlayStation 5 just so I could play the Burning Shores expansion when it came out in April, and while personally I had been shipping Aloy with Kotallo, I appreciate the romantic subplot being included.

What were some of your favorites from 2023? Did your list have any of the same titles as mine?

Featured image by Alisa Anton on Unsplash