#Blood For Gold Chapter 20

[doitforbangchan]

All Bark and No Bite - 20

Masterlist /Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous

Chapter Warnings: Afab/fem reader, violence (poorly written), character deaths, blood, weapons (knives, gun, shovel), choking, angst, cursing, crying, name calling, kissing, suggestive- I want to start with an apology to Atiny bc this is nooooot good for them tbh

WC: 12.7k

“Please?” 

“No, baby.” 

“Please?”

“I said no, omega.”

“But why?” 

“This is a serious deal, I don’t need my pretty omega to be a distraction.” 

Chan's words made you lip wobble and you cast your head down as you blinked back tears. You had asked -more like begged- to join him today. You heard him sigh and step away from where he was fixing his hair in the mirror and he turned to you. He tenderly held your face in his hands and lifted your gaze back up to his. 

“What I mean baby, is I don’t know what kind of people these potential buyers are. I would rather you be here with the pack where I know you're safe and sound. Okay?” The alpha was pumping out calming pheromones in an attempt to sooth you and make you more agreeable. You breathed in the dizzying scent and immediately felt better. You nodded and only had a mild pout remaining on your lips. He chuckled and gave you a gentle kiss to your head before turning back to looking in the mirror. 

He looked good. He was dressed in black dress pants that hugged his meaty thighs just right, and a white button down shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons were undone, giving a peak of his broad chest underneath. He paired the outfit with a pair of black Prada dress shoes and a gold chain around his neck that glimmered in the reflection. Overall his look screamed old money. 

You would have jumped his bones if you hadn’t been so anxious. Ever since you woke up this morning there has been this gnawing uneasiness that had been plaguing you that you couldn’t explain. Chan had to go a few towns over to show a big property for some potential buyers. Something in you didn’t want to see your alpha leave today. Or at the least you wanted him to bring you. You and chan had chalked it up to omega hormones but deep down you knew it was something else. Something more sinister. 

“I’ll miss you today.” You murmured, casting your gaze to his now pushed back hair then flickering over to his face where you caught his poorly contained grin. 

“Aww I’ll miss you more, Baby. I’ll be thinking of you the whole time I’m gone.” 

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Yeah right. The only thing on your mind is how much money your company is going to make from this deal.” 

Chan gasped dramatically, acting hurt. “That’s not true! You are always the main thing on my mind. I’d say 80 percent of my thoughts are about how much I miss and love you.” 

You pouted again, “Oh yeah? What’s the other 20 percent?” 

“How much I can’t wait to spoil my baby and my pack with the huge payout.” He grinned at you cheekily and gave you a wink. 

You giggled, “You know the boys would be stoked to hear you say that. Still, you’ll be gone practically all day. Whatever shall I do with myself, hmm?” ” 

Suddenly he snapped his fingers as if he had a great idea. 

“I have a great idea!” Oh he was so cute. The alpha took out his phone and typed something quickly then he shoved it back in his pocket. “There, now you won’t be bored.” He seemed pleased with himself. 

“What did you do?” You asked, narrowing your eyes in inquiry and crossing your arms. Literally a second later there was a knock on the door of Chan's room. “Channieee what did you do?” 

He smirked at you and raised his hands in defense, “Nothing nothing! Come on in!” He called out. 

Slowly the door creaked open and the epitome of blue haired happiness peaked his head in, offering you a heart melting smile. “Good morning, sunshine.” 

No matter how many times you’ve seen those freckles they still managed to give you butterflies. “Morning Lixie. What are you up to?” 

A flash of confusion went over his face, then he looked to Chan quickly then back to you. “I’m here to pick you up? Aren’t we going to the farmers market this morning?” 

Your eyes lit up in excitement, “Really?!” 

Both men chuckled at how easily excitable you were- they found it endearing and it just made them love you even more (if that was even possible). It seems like Chan's little distraction method was already working.

“Yes Baby. I thought it would be fun for you and Lix to go out for a while.” Chan said, placing a kiss on your forehead. Then he looked down at his watch, seeing it was already ten am. “I gotta get going, I meet with the clients at noon and it takes about a little more than an hour or so if there's no traffic. Plus there's a coffee shop I like to stop by when I go.” he gave you a cheeky kiss on your lips then a hard smack to your ass as he passed. Earning him a loud ‘HEY!’. He laughed and sped out before he could face your wrath. “I love you! Have fun with Felix! That’s an order!” 

You rolled your eyes with a huff, then you sarcastically saluted him. “Sir yes sir.” 

“Save the ‘sir’ talk for Min.” Chan snickered leaving the room, giving Felix a pat on the back as he went.

Felix stepped fully into the room now. He was dressed casually in a pair of wide leg jeans and an oversized white baggy tank. It was a good look on him, especially with his hair tied back. “Are you ready to go, love?” 

You were already dressed and ready for the day, donning a long white sundress that had a pink floral design and a corseted top. You felt something was missing though. “Hmm.. gimme one second Lix - OH I KNOW!” You snapped your fingers then ran to the closet, quickly pulling out a floppy white sun hat. You put it on your head proudly and turned back to Felix. 

He held up two thumbs up and had a wide smile, “Perfect farmers market outfit!” 

You beamed back, “Thanks Lixie. I’m ready for our date now.” 

A deep blush appeared on his face and up to his ears and he couldn’t get rid of the giddiness in his expression. ‘Our date…’ Felix liked the sound of that. He looped arms with you and led you out of the house. 

The market was surprisingly bustling. There were many different stalls set up with vendors selling all kinds of home grown fruits and veggies, along with some selling baked goods and garden starters.

The both of you were having a great time together. You had already drinken a fresh smoothie from a food truck near the beginning. Each of you had gotten a different flavor and had shared both. They were delicious and a great way to beat the ever growing heat. 

You were telling Felix about your plans for some of the produce when a little girl no older than three years old ran past you, being playfully chased by an older boy who looked to be about six. They ran past laughing and giggling and it brought a smile to your face. You knew they had to be siblings by the way they both had chunky cheeks and light brown hair. It made you wonder what your future kids will look like . ‘Will they have my eyes? Chans nose perhaps? Maybe little pouty lips?’ Subconsciously you brought a hand up to rest over your stomach. 

“Are you alright, love?” 

Felixs words brought you out of your head, and his gentle face appeared in front of you. He noticed your hand had moved to your midsection. 

“Yeah, m’ fine Lixie.” You offered a small smile and he raised a brow like he didn’t believe you. “It’s just..” You looked down nervously. “Do you think Channie would wanna start our family soon?” 

 Felix almost felt his heart break at your crestfallen face. But then all at once it was rebuilt again. ‘She wants a baby? She would be so adorable with a pregnant belly.’ 

“Oh omega..” He cooed and lifted your head with his free hand. You didn’t want to meet his eyes but you knew that’s what he was looking for so tearfully you did. “I know for a fact that Alpha will want to give you pups, he’s wanted to be a dad his whole life. Most of us have. It’s only a matter of time before he’s ready. I think maybe he wants you to be ready first.” 

You nodded, “I think you’ll all make wonderful fathers.” 

He nuzzled your nose with his own, “And you’ll make an amazing mother. Plus you’ll be extra cute when you're all round and waddling around.” He pressed a cheeky peck to your lips. “Even imagining it is driving me crazy. If Chan doesn’t hurry up I may have to do it myself.” 

You snorted and pulled back, “Yeah because defying him and taking things into your own hands worked out so well last time.” 

He grimaced remembering how terrible it was to not be able to touch you. “On second thought, maybe we’ll wait a while.” You laughed then returned to browsing. Almost immediately your attention was off the previous subject.

“OOO look at those! They’re huge!” You exclaimed and pointed at the massive watermelons in front of you . They had to be the biggest fruits you had ever seen in your life and you knew you had to have it. You looked at Felix with puppy dog eyes, asking for permission to get one of these giant melons. 

The beta looked down at all the things you had already gotten; his arms held bags full of squashes, berries, breads and goods galore (he had demanded he hold the bags for you no matter what you bought). He sighed, knowing he would never be able to tell you no but dreading having to carry that around. “Ok baby, anything for you. Pick whatever one you want.” 

You critically examined each melon, then pointed at the one that looked the best to you. “Ahh good pick young lady.” The old man at the stall rubbed his beard. “That one is about 40 pounds and should be one of the sweetest ones.” 

You clasped your hands together and handed him some money (that Felix was gracious enough to let you hold on to; to make you feel like you're contributing), “That’s so heavy!”

The beta dreaded having to carry this thing but he went to pick it up anyways.

“Lixie, it’s ok I can take it-” 

“Nah I got it”

“At least let me carry the bags-”

“Pfft, I got this Baby, I’m a man you know?” He flexed as if he were trying to make a point and you rolled your eyes and held your hands up in defeat. With a deep breath, he tried to lift the melon. He almost fell backwards with it in his arms, the weight being too much along with everything else. 

Thankfully the old man was there, as he had to hurriedly take the large fruit from Felix before he could drop it. “Careful there, son. That took me months to grow.” 

You giggled while Felix held in a pout at being scolded. “Aww Lix it’s ok, it’s just a melon I don’t need it.” 

He scowled lightly, “Now hold on a minute Baby, you’re getting this melon if it’s the last thing I do!”

You did in fact get your melon… After the farmer man had to carry it to the car for you. Even though his ego was hurt Felix still thanked the man and handed him a twenty dollar bill for his trouble. 

Now you were both in the car on the way back home. You couldn’t stop your little chuckles at how cute his red cheeks were. You reached up and pinched the heated skin.

“Baby stoooopppp it’s not funny!” He whined and smacked your hand away while keeping one hand on the wheel. “What kind of man can’t even carry a watermelon?!” 

“Lix, anybody would have struggled with that thing. It doesn’t make you less of a man.” 

He grumbled under his breath, “the farmer could lift it just fine..” 

“Felix… are you jealous of the farmer?” You asked slowly, trying not to laugh again. 

“He was like seventy years old and could pick it up no problem! And he had a sick ass beard!” 

“You are so cute Lix oh my god.” This time there was no containing your cackling, you laughed so hard tears started to well in your eyes. Seeing you laughing next to him made Felix start to laugh too, now realizing how silly it is. 

The car drove down the forest road to the house, then a few moments later pulled up and parked in front of the house. Seeing Chan's car gone from the driveway reminded you of the dread that loomed within you, your sweet scent slightly souring. 

Felix turned off the car and turned to you with a crinkle in his brow. “What’s wrong baby?” 

“Something feels wrong Lix. Something has felt wrong all day.” You wrung your hands together anxiously. You looked at the time on the dashboard, seeing it ‘11:50’. Chan might not be with the clients yet. “Do you think we can maybe send a text to Channie just to make sure he’s alright?” 

The beta pulled out his phone, “absolutely.” He opens his phone and hands it to you. “Type whatever you want. We really should get you your own phone soon, it’s not practical in the long run that you don’t have one.” 

You took his phone and typed out a quick message to your alpha, wishing him luck and telling him you loved and missed him. You sent it with bated breath and waited. After about thirty seconds the message said ‘read’ and you felt like you could breathe again. A response came in a moment after. 

‘I miss you more baby. I’ll see you before you know it and you can tell me all about how much fun you had today. I love you, my gorgeous girl.’ 

“See? He’s alright.” Lix reassured and patted your knee. You nodded and handed your phone back to him. You felt better after seeing his reply but the dread didn’t dwindle by much. Felix patted your knee with a smile then opened his door and hopped out, running around to open yours but he wasn’t quick enough before you opened your door with a playful grin. “Baaabbyy I wanted to open it for you!” He whined with a huff. 

“Oh I’m sorry, I apologize. You are a man after all.” You teased him then shut the door again. He laughed and opened your car door with a bow. 

“After you mam.” 

“Thank you, good sir.” You giggled and accepted his outstretched hand. When you were out you gave him a little peck on his lips. He shut your door then opened the back to grab the goods you acquired today- glaring daggers at the offending melon. You rolled your eyes, “ oh don’t be petty, it’s just a fruit Lix!” 

“A fruit who disrespected me! And is about to do it again!” He protested, a frown now gracing his freckled face. “We both know I can’t carry that thing…So now I gotta do the most painful thing in the world.” 

“Aww what’s that, babe?” 

“I have to ask Changbin to help.” 

That once again made you laugh, “His ego is going to be through the roof. I’ll ask him, Lix. He won’t make fun of you if you have your hands full. Or you could let me help yo-” 

“Nope go ahead and get Bin.” He was already filling his arms with your bags and goods. 

“Hmph. Fine.” You pouted and walked into the house, calling for the alpha. “Ohh Binnnniiiie” You sung aloud, then waited. A second later a rumbling pair of feet came scrambling into the room, almost slipping on the rug. You hid your smile with your hand as Changbin was now in front of you pretending to act cool as if he hadn’t almost fallen. 

“Oh hey Baby. You called?” His ears were red and he leaned on the wall. 

“Hi handsome, do you mind helping me out please? There's a heavy melon I can’t lift.” You clasped your hands out in front of you and smiled at him sweetly, making his heart beat wildly in his chest. 

“Of course I’ll help you, but wasn’t Felix with you?” Bin asked. 

“Right here.” Felix came in behind you with his arms full. 

“Damn baby, how much did you get?” Changbin did a double take as the beta passed by him.

His comment made you feel sheepish, you bit your lip and slightly furrowed your brow. “Oh uh, ya know.. Just some stuff for the pack and the garden..” 

“In her defense, she’s an omega who was let loose in a farmers market with almost unlimited funds.” Felix called from further within the house now. 

“I’m kind of jealous you went without me.” The alpha admitted and followed you out to the car. 

“You do have to share me sometimes, Binnie.” You sing songed your words, then yelped when you felt a swift smack to your butt. “Ouch!” 

“Holy shit that thing is huge!” The back was still open in the car so he got a good look at the monstrosity. 

“I know right?! I’ve never seen one so big!” 

He snickered, “That’s what she said.” 

You snorted and smacked his butt in return. “You're damn right!” 

He balked at your response, face turning even redder and mumbling, “Who are you?” 

“I’m what you boys have turned me into.” You grinned at him with a wink. 

Changbin hauled the melon into his arms with ease, holding it with one arm and using the other hand to shut the door. You swooned at how easy it was for him, biting your lip at the flex of his muscles when he lifted the fruit. With his free hand he grabbed yours and led you back into the house. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?” 

“Hmm,” You hummed, pursing your lips in thought. You knew you should distract yourself and usually that would be with chores but you had all been good about keeping up with them that there was no need. “I’m not sure. What about you, Binnie?” 

“Whatever you're doing, I’m doin baby.” He brought the back of your hand up to his mouth and gave it a wet kiss.

His sweet answer made you let out a quiet purr. Your inner omega was over the moon to have happy Binnie back. The last few days had been a painful whirlwind of emotions for the both of you. 

You thought back to the saplings you got from the market. “How does some gardening sound?” 

“Only if we can have some lemonade while we do it!” 

You giggled and nodded, “Of course, if we still have some. Ji has been drinking a lot of it lately.” 

Going into the kitchen you saw Lix and Hyunjin, both going through the various things you brought home.

 “Good haul, Baby!” Hyunjin said when he spotted you entering the space. Then his eyes widened at the sight of the watermelon. “Woah, that is freakin gigantic! You weren’t lying Lix.”

“Why would I lie about the literal bane of my existence?” The younger beta grumbled. 

Hyunjin shrugged, “I don’t know, I thought you were exaggerating.” He came up to you and literally pushed Changbin away, then enveloped you in a hug. “Hi gorgeous! Did you have fun?” 

“Mmhmm,” You leaned up and gave him a kiss. “A ton of fun. They had so much to look at! I saw some produce I had never even heard of before!” 

Hyunjin went back to scavenging through the goods, “I want to go next time! It’s not fair that Felix had all the fun with you.” He pouted and glared at the other beta- who in protest stuck his tongue out childishly. 

“You had fun with her the other day! We never spend time together anymore!” 

“Well I’m not the one who misbehaves, so I think I’ve earned unlimited time.” Hyunjin snarked with a stomp. 

“Children settle down!” Changbin pointed at each of them, trying to calm down the gradually heating argument. He could sense your ever growing perturbation as the betas argued and -especially after the other day- he didn’t want anything to stress you out. “Everyone needs to get better at sharing in this damn house.” He tried to harden his tone like an alphas, wanting to get his authority across. 

Both betas scoffed at his attempt, Hyunjin giving him a dramatic side eye. “Since when do you go into high and mighty alpha mode?” 

“Since your weird territorial squabbling is stressing out the love of our lives, you asshole.” Changbin gestured to you, who had been silently biting your lip. 

Everyone's eyes softened, “Oh omega, we’re sorry, we weren’t trying to fight.” Lix said and wrapped you in a hug. 

“Yeah we were only joking around, baby.” Hyunjin added, trying to diffuse the tension. 

You nodded, “It’s alright, I know you boys like to bicker like old people.” ‘I just wish it wasn’t involving me.’

“Baby, I love you and all, but I think the one who acts like an old lady is you.” Hyunjin snickered and went to hug you again but you sidestepped him with a gasp. 

“How dare you!?” You poked his chest in jest. 

“What? Gardening, cooking and reading are your favorite activities! Those are hobbies for old ladies!” 

You huffed and laid a smack to his chest, making him laugh. “You’re not supposed to be the mean one Jinnie!” 

“M not mean I was just playin.” He protested with a whine and reached for you again but you held your hands out to stop him, laughing as he kept coming at you making kissy faces. 

A loud ringing interrupted the moment and all of your attention was brought to the device on the counter. Felix's phone was going off and Chan's picture lit up the screen. You looked to Felix in anticipation and he offered you a smile and a nod. You didn’t hesitate to snatch the phone up and press the answer button, bringing it to your ear. “Hello?” 

“Hi beautiful. What are you up to?” 

“Hi Channie. I’m in the kitchen with Lixie, Jinnie and Binnie. Is everything ok?” 

You heard him sigh in frustration, “Yeah it’s alright. The buyer stood me up. I’ve been waiting here for over 20 minutes past the meet up time.” 

Your heart broke for him. You knew how important this deal would have been for him and the company. “Oh alpha, I’m so sorry.” You could feel that lump of anxiety in your stomach growing once more. 

“It’s ok baby, other buyers will come, it's not a big deal. Anyways, I wanted to let you know I’m going to head home now and I’ll see you soon.” 

That perked you right up, a bright smile finding its way across your face, looking over to the boys who gave you thumbs up. “Ok, I’m excited to have you home. I love you.” 

He chuckled, “I’m excited to be home. I love you more, baby. See you soon.” With that he hung up. You could feel your claiming bite tingle when he said he loved you, your fingers absentmindedly tracing over the marred flesh of your neck. You giddily handed the device back to Felix. 

“He’s on his way home.” You beamed. You grabbed some of the saplings from the counter and grabbed Binnies hand. “Come on! I wanna surprise him with the new additions when he comes home!”

“Oh can I come?” Jinnie asked with pleading eyes. 

“No!” You huffed, “You called my gardening an old person hobby, so no you may not!” 

Felix and Changbin cackled while the other beta jutted his plump lip out in an angry pout. 

Chan could feel his patience wearing thin. He had waited at the entrance to the large vacant commercial building for far longer than he would have liked, only for the clients - who demanded to meet today- to be a no show. 

He looked at his emails once more just to be sure he hadn’t received anything from the client, then ran his hand through his hair. 

“Fuck this. I could have spent the day with my mate, instead I got this bullshit..” He angrily murmured, then let out a deep breath to steel himself. With a stedier mind, he pressed on Felix's contact. It rang once, twice, three times then it was picked up. 

“Hello?” 

It was his omega who answered the phone. Even hearing her voice calmed him down immensely. “Hi beautiful. What are you up to?” 

“Hi Channie. I’m in the kitchen with Lixie, Jinnie and Binnie. Is everything ok?” 

He sighed and kicked the dirt below him, trying to contain his anger.  “Yeah it’s alright. The buyer stood me up. I’ve been waiting here for over 20 minutes past the meet up time.” 

 “Oh alpha, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s ok baby, other buyers will come, it's not a big deal. Anyways, I wanted to let you know I’m going to head home now and I’ll see you soon.” He reassured you, knowing how you're probably feeling. ‘My girl is so empathetic.’ It’s one of the things he loves most about you. 

“Ok, I’m excited to have you home. I love you.”

“I’m excited to be home. I love you more, baby. See you soon.” He hung up the phone and shoved it in his pocket. Chan was beyond ready to be home. His thoughts were consumed with you and how he wanted to hold you when he got back. 

In fact, Chan was so distracted that he didn’t pick up on the scent that was drawing closer to him until it was only feet away. His whole body went rigid when he finally caught a whiff of something foul. 

‘There's another alpha next to me.’ 

Chan was suddenly caught in a chokehold, a muscly arm coming around him and trying to take him to the ground. Chan was able to maneuver himself out of the hold with a hard twist of his body, his hands coming up to pry the offending arm from him. He spun around to face his assailant. It was an alpha he had never seen before, but something about him felt familiar in a way Chan couldn’t explain. 

“What the fuck?! Who are you?!” 

The man swung on Chan, a deafening growl escaping the other alpha when Chan was able to dodge. Though Chan was not able to dodge the swift kick that was delivered to his legs, sending him down on his back. When Chan was down in a more vulnerable position the other alpha smirked down at him. 

“Don’t I smell familiar to you, Chan?” The way this man sneered his name made his blood boil. Chan was able to roll away from the next attack, his own legs kicking the knee of the offender and sending him down when he tried to stomp on Chan. “Fuck, I heard you were a strong son of a bitch. You must be, to have hurt my mate.”

Chan sprung to his feet and looked at the other man. It was then that he noticed the bite mark on his neck. The gears in his head finally started to click into place. “You’re Wooyoung's alpha, aren’t you? You’re San.” 

“Don’t say his fucking name, you piece of shit!” San got back up as well, then lunged for Chan, getting a hit in on his face and sending him back a few feet. Chan could feel his nose start to drip just lightly and he was growing even more pissed off. “First you piss off my pack leader, then you piss off me. Things aren’t going to end well for you.” 

‘His pack leader? Who the fuck is hi-’ 

Chan's thoughts were cut off when another hurdling fist came at him, but this time he was more prepared, his own fist smashing into San. His mind was racing. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on but he started to piece it together. 

Wooyoung- a beta- tried to nab you. He was asked to leave town a mere day later and go to an abandoned building. Now an alpha; albeit not a very bright one, was attacking him and mentioning his pack leader. Chan's heart sank in his chest and his eyes widened. This wasn’t just about revenge for what he did to Wooyoung. 

This was about his omega. About you. 

And this man's pack leader was Hongjoong. 

Chan could feel nothing but pure rage and fear as he realized what was happening. He needed to get home to you. Now. 

Chan rolled up his sleeves and hardened his gaze. San wiped the blood from his lip and could feel the intensity coming from Chan, making him gulp but continuing his attack. He pulled out a pocket knife from his pants. “No one messes with my pack. Not even a notorious little bitch like you.” San jeered. 

“Sorry, I don’t have time for this. My omega is waiting for me.” Chan caught the other alpha off guard when he swiftly grabbed Sans arm before he was able to strike, and literally tossed him to the ground. Chan stomped hard on Sans hand, crushing his fingers and making him release the knife with a pained howl. Chan could feel the crunch of bone beneath his nice prada shoes and he grinned down evilly. 

“I’ll kill you!” San screamed and tried to fight him, but Chan hopped on top of him and started throwing his fists into the other alpha over and over again. Chan could feel the blood starting to coat his hands but he didn’t stop. He kept hitting him until his face was unrecognizable. At some point the man under him flailed his legs up in an attempt to knock Chan away but Chan just changed up his tactics, grabbing into the man's head and starting to bash the back of his head into the ground.

“You can’t kill me when you can’t even move.” All either of them saw was red.

Chan's heart was pounding so loudly in his ears. His whole body was splattered in blood, it coated his hands and dripped from his face. Some of it was his but most of it was Sans. The man laid still on the dirty ground, a pool of red surrounding him. Chan didn’t know or care if he was still breathing; and he wasn’t going to stick around to find out. 

He sprinted towards his car, throwing the door open and hopping in. His hands were nearly shaking as he tried to start the ignition. Just then his phone began to ring. He hastily dug it from his pocket, surprised the screen wasn’t cracked at the least. A number he didn’t recognize was calling him.  A sick feeling inside of him told him to answer. 

“Hello?” He put it to his ear and started his car. 

“I gotta tell you, Chris, you’re not as smart as people make you out to be.” 

Chan gripped the steering wheel tightly. “What do you want, Hongjoong? Wasn’t sicking your little pet on me enough?” 

The man on the line chuckled darkly and Chan knew there was a wicked smile on his stupid face. 

“Oh I think you know what I want. You stole something from me and I want it back.” 

Chan grit his teeth, understanding exactly what he was talking about. “I didn’t steal anything. She never belonged to you in the first place.” 

“Liar! You’re a filthy fucking thief. You took what was rightfully mine. I paid good money for that omega. Though I can’t say I’m not disappointed that it turns out she’s a dirty whore since she spreads her legs for you so easily. Still, she belongs to me and I don’t take kindly to thieves.” 

Chan let out the most menacing and guttural growl he had ever released in his life.”Don’t you ever fucking talk about her like that.” 

Hongjoong chuckled again. That little laugh made Chan want to gouge his eyes out of his head. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Chris. I thought we could talk this out; alpha to alpha.”

“It seems we’re way past that, since you sent your bitch after me.” 

“Did you kill him?” 

That wasn’t the question Chan was expecting, it almost seemed like Hongjoong cared about his pack. “Why don’t you come over here and check for yourself?” 

The man on the phone hummed with disdain. “Nah, I think I’ll go check in on my omega instead. She is wearing the most delectable little sundress today, isn’t she? Mmm, absolutely scrumptious.” 

Chan sped faster down the interstate, feeling the rage intensify even more. “You listen to me you shit stain -” 

“No, you listen to me! I don’t accept a slight against me! I’ve killed people for less. Trust me when I say that little whore isn’t gonna be worth it when I slit your throat. And every single one of your weak little pack mates. Too bad their big strong alpha left town and left them there. Sure would be a shame if something happened.” 

With that the line went dead. 

“FUCK. FUCK FUCK FUUUCKKKK” Chan slammed his hands against the sterling wheel as he screamed. He knew this was no time to panic and that he had to get home as quickly as possible and he had to warn the pack. He had no idea who was home right now, but he had to try. With shaky fingers he dialed the number. 

“You’re delusional.” 

“No! Everyone agrees Mark Ruffalo is the best ‘Hulk’!” You protested and threw a leaf at Changbin, who only cackled when it flew directly to the ground. You were sitting kneeling in the dirt, settling in the saplings while Changbin mostly kept you company and controlled the music. Right now ‘Genie in a bottle’ by Christina Agulara has just started playing. 

“Uh uh, you and I both know it’s Edward Norton.” 

You huffed, “And you call me delusional.” 

He patted your head as if soothing a feral dog, making you swat his hands away with a scowl.”You’re so cute when you’re all fired up, baby. Makes me wanna take you against that glass again like last time.” He smirked and laughed when you swatted him again. 

“Not right now, Binnie. I wanna get this done to show Channie when he gets home.” You had to pry off the alphas wandering fingers as they started to trail down your back. You crossed your arms when he began to kiss your neck. 

Changbin sighed wistfully and laid one more peck to your skin before pulling away, “Alright alright Baby, you win. I’ll let you finish your little project.” 

“Thank you Binnie.” You smiled and beckoned him down so you can give him a smooch. 

He kissed you again then stood up, adjusting his pants. “I think I’m gonna run in and grab a snack, since I can’t eat the delicious one right in front of me.” He side eyed you with a playful grin. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Do you need anything from inside?” 

You hummed in thought, “Maybe some more lemonade please?” 

“You got it.” He gave you a thumbs up and headed inside. 

Changbin made his way to the house. When he opened the back door and went inside he could tell something was up. The vibe inside felt off and he caught a whiff of something that he couldn’t place his finger on. He carefully walked towards the kitchen, still not seeing anyone but the scent was starting to get stronger. The alpha turned the corner to enter and was finally able to tell exactly where the scent was coming from.

Leaning against the fridge and eating an apple, was Wooyoung. Changbin froze at the sight of the beta. Changbin took notice of the state of the man. Wooyoung's nose was dark purple and he kept a bandage over it. He also had dark marks on his neck in the shape of fingertips. 

Wooyoung breathed deeply then snapped his head to face Changbin with a grin. This wasn’t his normal smile though, this time Changbin could see the villainous intentions behind it. 

“Hi Bin, I’ve been waiting for you.” He took another bite of the apple, the crunch making a shiver want to go down the alphas spine. 

“Wooyoung,” Changbin took a careful step towards him, eyes never leaving the man. “What are you doing here?” He kept his words low and said them slowly, trying to control the situation. 

The beta gave him a cheery shrug, obviously masking the pain the expression caused him due to his broken nose. “Thought I might come see my friend.  Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

“Wooyoung, what are you doing here?” Changbin had demanded, finding no amusement in the situation whatsoever. 

This time Wooyoung's face changed and his smile dropped. “ Let’s have a chat, like old times.” 

“We have nothing to talk about. I told you to leave me alone.” 

The beta took another bite from the fruit, “Come on Changbin, just hear me out. I have a proposition for ya.” That evil gleam sparkled in his eyes and he didn’t give Changbin a chance to respond before launching into it. “I -we- want you to join us. Be a part of our pack. I’ve told my head alpha all about you and he thinks you’d be a great addition.” 

“Your alpha?” Wooyoung nodded enthusiastically to his inquiry. “Who is your alpha?” 

“Hongjoong of course!” Changbin froze. His whole body was alight with trepidation and his eyes were wide. “He’s a great leader, you'll like him I promise. He said that since you're so strong you would do good in a strong pack- the others are mostly alphas so you’ll fit right in. Oh oh and you know the best part?!” He took another bite. Changbin could hear the manic exaggeration in his voice as he spoke, the man seemed to be unraveling mentally the more he droned on. “Joong said if you join us you can still fuck the omega whenever you want!” 

“No one is putting another finger on my girl.” The words came out before changbins brain could even catch up with all the things he had said, the only thing he registered was the mention of Baby. “You’re a fucking psycho if you think any of that is going to happen.”

Suddenly there was a loud scream from the floor above them, then a thundering pound as if something huge had fallen. Changbins eyes flickered to the ceiling then back to Wooyoung, who sighed in detest at the interruption. The beta glared at him and clicked his tongue. “Wrong answer.” 

The apple was forcefully thrown directly at Changbins face, the alpha yelling in pain when it made contact with his eye, the sweet juices splattering all over him. He wasn’t expecting the attack so his instincts made his hands shoot up to defend himself instead. Bin blindly reached his out to grasp at whatever he could and ended up cutting off Wooyoung's next attack by grabbing his arm that was flying at him. 

Wooyoung yelped when Changbin gripped his arm forcefully and yanked the beta to him. Changbin creaked his eyes open just in time to see another fist coming at him again, so he leaned forward quickly and managed to get a headbutt in on the beta man. 

The offender howled in pain when the crown of Changbins head smashed into his nose- the already broken appendage immediately starting to flow heavily. Wooyoung started to sway backwards but before he did he grabbed onto the alphas hair and forced him down to the ground with him. 

Another thudding crash was heard from upstairs then the sound of running feet spreading out around the second floor. All over the house a smell of blood spread around and it made Changbins own blood begin to boil. He needed to end this now. 

The alpha man threw his whole weight down on top of Wooyoung, knocking the air out of the beta. Wooyoung wheezed and was caught off guard; that's the moment Changbin took to wrap his thick bicep and forearm around Wooyoung's neck. Changbin did not let up for even a second on the pressure even as Wooyoung struggled and punched at him as he fought for air. 

“Just go to sleep!” He screamed at him and tightened the hold even more, efficiently choking the man below him. Soon enough his efforts paid off and Wooyoung's body fell limp in his hold. Changbin held position for another few seconds just to be sure it wasn’t a trick, then he rolled himself off of the beta with a groan. He could see that Wooyoung was not dead but he had passed out cold from the lack of oxygen.

Changbin breathed a brief sigh of relief as he scrambled to his feet and ran for the door. This was far from over. 

Your back was turned to the door of the greenhouse and your hands were busy digging another small hole for a sapling. ‘Genie in a bottle’ was still blaring through the speaker and you were humming along with the words and lightly dancing in your seat. 

An alpha presence was approaching from behind and you could hear the light steps as they neared. Changbin had only been gone for about a minute so you assumed it was him.  Your lips curled in a teasing smile and you called over your shoulder, “Well that was quick, don’t tell me you forgot my-” 

Your words were cut off as a hand embedded itself in your hair roughly and your head was forced back. Your hands shot to your head as you yelled from the shock and the pain. Your eyes were filled with tears as your face was yanked up and around to face the attacker. 

A man you recognized from your google search those few weeks ago before your escape was staring back at you with an unholy wickedness you had never encountered before. You gasped when he laughed at your obvious fear- his canine teeth were sharp and menacing as he licked over them as if tasting your fright.  

“Hello there, little omega.” You hated the way he said your presentation. “I’ve been looking for you.” 

“H-hongjoong?” You whimpered as he craned your neck back further to look at him. You could feel the tension of his nails on your scalp as he yanked and it made you cry harder. 

“Ah,” He grinned down at you, “So you do know who I am. Perfect, that saves us some time.” He started to drag you out of the greenhouse by your hair, making you scream as you tried to pull back but it was no use and you were forced to be dragged along with him as you scrambled on your hands and knees. 

“How did you find me?” You cried, your legs scraping against the hard ground and creating bloody scratches along them. 

He tsked, amused by your question. “That fucking thief wasn’t as careful as he thought he was. He forgot I have connections everywhere, including the police. The second you confirmed as not missing I knew exactly where you were. Though I will say it took a little longer than I had thought it would to track you down to a point. Wooyoung is usually very good with his nose.” 

You felt your heart plummet in your chest and you couldn’t breathe. It all made sense now- the incident at the carnival was worse than you thought it was. He really did try to take you away. All for this alpha. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked with faux kindness, cooing condescendingly. “Aren’t you happy to see your true alpha?” 

“You are not my alpha!” You screamed, bringing your hands up to try to scratch at him. “Channie is!”

Hongjoong used the grip on your hair to toss you forward into the dirt, cutting up your skin even more and dirtying your dress. He still kept his brutal hold on your head as he dragged you. “ Show some respect. I paid good money for you, you dirty fucking whore. That sorry excuse for an alpha is going to pay with his life for trying to steal what’s mine. Just like your father did for letting you escape.” 

Dad is…

Your cries turned to sobs as you took in the severity of his words. Your father was dead- murdered by this man. It couldn’t be true.. It can’t be. 

“You’re lying!” 

He snickered at your devastation, finding enjoyment in watching you sob in both kinds of agony. He had finally gotten you through the threshold of the greenhouse. “I’m many things, dollface, but I'm no liar.” 

“What you’re going to be is dead if you don’t let her go right fucking now.” 

Your eyes were filled with so many tears you didn’t see who said it but you didn’t need to. You had heard the menacing threat in his voice before and it made you feel better- that you weren’t alone completely- even if the comfort was miniscule. 

Hongjoong scoffed from above you, “Big words for a pathetic little beta. You’ll get yours soon enough don’t you worry, so why don’t you scurry along, hm?” 

Minho's dark eyes were locked on Hongjoong, his body rigid and his fingers twitching. He was trying not to show his fear. No, he wasn't scared of Hongjoong necessarily; he was scared for you. And he was more angry than he had ever been in his life. 

The betas mind was racing and so was his heart as he tried to assess the best way to handle the situation. He had been at the garage a few yards from the main house when Chan called. After receiving the call from Chan he had wasted zero time in bolting for your location, seeking you out by scent when he heard your screams and cries. 

“M-min..” You cried harder, trying to crawl to him but getting yanked back forcefully by Hongjoong. 

“You’re not going anywhere, bitch.” The alpha growled. 

“You have three seconds to let her go.” Minho snarled, his face scrunching up as he bared his teeth in an attempt to threaten the alpha. “One..” 

“You can’t do shit to me, not when I have her in my hands.” Hongjoong sounded cocky as he shook your head. 

“Two..” 

Minho's eyes flicked to you then Hongjoong for a split second and that was enough for you to understand. Distract him. You balled your fists and started to swing at your captor with as most force as you could muster. You small fists hit at him and you yelled through your tears and your fear. You swiped at his skin with your nails and drew blood from the alpha, making him curse. 

“Stop it you fucking bitch!” He delivered a hard kick directly to your ribs and it knocked the air from you. But you would take it gladly if it meant Minho could do what he has to do. And it seemed like your distraction worked. 

While Hongjoong was momentarily distracted Minho was able to close the distance and he managed to strike Hongjoong right in his head. The alpha let go of your head in his surprise and Minho immediately reached for you and pulled you to him. 

“Run!” He yelled at you, “Get as far away as you can! Go!”

 Minho shoved you away from the scene just in time to dodge Hongjoong who had regained his composure enough to try and grab at you again. Minho tried to tackle the alpha but the man did not go down, instead he delivered a strike to Minho's stomach and tried to throw him to the ground but the beta held on and did not let him advance towards you. 

You were frozen in fear; not knowing what to do or how to help. Your body hurt and your scalp burned and your mind was racing faster than it ever had before. Just when you thought your knees were about to give out, Minho met your eyes, his own pleading and begging. Begging for you to run away from Hongjoong. From him. 

You blinked through your tears and gave a small nod, then you turned and ran. Or it was more like limping away, as you clutched your side where you had been kicked. 

Minho would have breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you run if it weren’t for the threat he still faced. The beta felt a hard kick to his knee as the alpha tried to get him off of him. Minho held back his grunt of pain as his knee gave out and he lowered slightly. 

Minho saw opportunity at his lowered position and rammed his head into Hongjoongs sternum, his arms wrapping around the man and he used his weight to push him to the ground. 

Hongjoong yelled in fury and slammed both hands into the back of Minho's head as he went down, “You son of a bitch!” 

Min saw a few black spots dot his vision and his head spun, but still he remained on task. He needed to eradicate the threat. Failure was not an option- no matter how badly it hurt. 

He was growling and pounding his fists into Hongjoong but the alpha was inherently stronger than him so he only managed to land two or three hard slams before he was being flipped over and his back was crashing to the dirt below. 

Minho instinctually put his arms up to cover his face as Hongjoong beat down on him. Hongjoong was using his alpha pheromones to try to intimidate the beta into submission- his musk reminiscent of burnt out matches and kerosine. The beta man held his breath and flipped his elbows up to make an attack with the points of his bone. 

He managed to strike the meat of Hongjoongs side, hitting hard enough to draw a howl from the man above him. He went to hit higher when he thought the alpha was taken aback but the ever vigilant alpha intercepted it and managed to turn his head quick enough to grab a hold of Minho's arm with his teeth. 

Minho screamed when he felt his flesh tear as he jerked his arm back. The bite was deep and immediately began to leak warm blood all over himself. Hongjoong took this moment to spring back up to his feet. 

Hongjoong was breathing heavily as he spit out the skin and blood right at Minho who was still lying on the ground. His own face was bleeding and the crazed look in his eye would be enough to send a grown man to the grave. It sent a frightened shiver down Minho's spine as he clutched his gushing arm. 

The beta managed to shuffle back a few feet; trying to put distance between himself and this villainous man. He left a trail of blood in the dirt as he scrambled back. He bared his teeth at Hongjoong and it made the alpha smirk- the blood all over his face covering his lips and making him seem even scarier. Minho knew something deranged was running through the alphas mind given by the psychotic glaze that overcame his eyes. 

“As fun as that was, I think it’s time to end this little scuffle.” Hongjoong reached under his jacket and pulled out a black pistol, and aimed it right at Minho. 

Minho kept his expression hard and his snarl steady, not giving anything away even though his life was flashing before his eyes. From what he knew and had seen of Hongjoong, he knew the crazed man would end his life with no hesitation. 

“Big bad alpha needs a gun to fight his battles, huh?” Minho spat at him, “Only a pussy brings a gun to a fist fight.” 

Hongjoong scoffed, then showed that bloody grin. “I don’t need a gun to kill you, but it does make it easier when I’m in a time crunch. Sorry I can’t stick around a little longer, Minho, but I have an omega to catch.” 

The alpha cocked the gun and aimed it at Minho's head. Even in the face of imminent death Minho stayed as steady as ever. The only regret he has is that he didn’t get to spend more time with the woman he loves- that he was too stubborn in the beginning and had wasted precious time with you. He would never regret the decisions leading to this moment though. He would die for you over and over again if it meant you could get away from this monster. 

Just as Minho had accepted his fate, suddenly there was a scream and a deafening ‘ding’ and Hongjoongs body was sent flying towards the ground. Standing behind the alpha -that now lay in the dirt clutching his head- was you. Was his baby. His love. And you were holding a large shovel that you had used to assault Hongjoong. 

With another loud scream you lifted the head of the shovel above your head and brought it down on the alpha again, bashing him forcefully with the metal using all the might in your body. Your blood was pumping harder than it ever had in your whole life. The only thing in your mind was to defend Minho from this terrible man, whatever it takes. 

You kept screaming as you clobbered him from above over and over and over again. Your whole body hurt and you could barely see through your tears but you didn’t let up. You didn’t stop even as blood began to pool in the dirt and Hongjoong was no longer moving. 

In fact you didn’t stop until Minho had gotten up from the ground and limped over to you, his eyes wide from the shock. 

“Baby..” He grabbed the shovel before you could bring it down for a final time and pulled it from your grasp, throwing your weapon to the ground. “He’s gone, you can stop now.” 

Instantly you flung yourself into him, wailing loudly and trying to get as close to him as possible. “M-min.. Y-you.. I-i.. Oh my god.” 

“M’ here, baby. You’re safe, it’s ok.” He tried to sooth you and keep you from seeing the body that lay in the dirt, curling you into him despite the pain in his still bleeding arm. 

“D-did I.. Did I kill him?” You were both shaking from your question and Minho didn’t know how to respond right away. “Oh my god I did, didn’t I? He -he had that gun pointed at you and I just panicked. All I felt was terror and then… I killed him. Fuck I’m gonna be sick.” You started dry heaving  but Minho shook you out of your panic. 

“Omega, you did what your instincts told you to do. You saved me. Even after I told you to run as far away as you could, you came back. You saved me, Y/n.” Minho felt his own tears finally falling down his face, the shock wearing off as he took in the severity of what had transpired. “I was supposed to save you and it was you who came to my rescue.” 

“I couldn’t leave you here alone with him! I could feel it in my gut he would have done terrible things to you, Min. I couldn’t leave you.” Even with the blood on his face he grabbed your head and kissed you harder than ever, pushing all of his gratification and love into it. You kissed back just as fiercely and melted into him. 

“I love you.” He whispered when he pulled away, closing his eyes as he held you. 

“I love you Min.” You whispered back. 

A horrible reminder flitted into Minho's mind at that moment. If Hongjoong was here, then that means the rest of his evil packmates probably won’t be far behind.

The pack is in danger. 

He pulled back and grabbed your hand, “I have to go, the other boys might be in trouble. I need you to hide in the greenhouse. Arm yourself and try to stay hidden.” You shook your head in protest, not wanting him to leave you, but he hardened his voice, “Y/n listen to me now. This is not the time to disobey me again. Thank you for saving me, but right now I have to go save them and I can’t do that if I’m worrying about you behind my back. Please, I’m begging you, go hide and don’t come out for anyone who is not a part of our pack.” 

You trembled as he handed you the shovel, not wanting to but nodding anyway. “Be safe, please Minho.” 

He nodded and sent you off into the greenhouse, then he turned and hightailed it to the house. 

Changbin had made his way through the house when the smell of the blood got thicker, and as he passed by the bottom of the staircase he was startled as a large body came careening down the steps, landing with a pained grunt at the bottom and his arm bent at an unnatural angle. 

Changbin yelled in fright at the sight of the unfamiliar alpha and without thinking delivered a hard kick into the man, who wheezed and rolled in pain. Changbin heard the scuffle of feet descend the stairs and was ready to fight again, but instead came face to face with Seungmin- who had his old baseball bat in his hand. Changbin could see the wood and Seungmin alike were splattered with blood. 

Seungmin had a borderline sadistic snarl on his lips as he greeted Changbins bewildered look, with one of his own. “What the fuck is going on?” 

Changbin smacked himself out of his shock, “I think we’re under attack by the Ateez pack.” 

Seungmin growled, “No shit, this is the second alpha I had to beat around. Though this one got off easier. His giant friend upstairs didn’t make it this far away from me.” 

“Two made it upstairs?” Changbin asked, peering around in panic. 

“No,” Seungmin smirked with an evil glint in his eyes, “It was three. The third one got his throat ripped out by Innie.” 

Changbin grimaced, “Fucking gross. Who screamed?” 

“Jisung screamed when he saw Jeongin tear that fuckers neck apart with his teeth.” 

“Understandable.” 

“Yeah it was pretty metal. That kid is feral I swear. Though Ji is traumatized now.” Seungmin checked the man on the ground and saw he was passed out cold by now, and gave him another smack with the bat with a sneer. 

The matter at hand suddenly came to both of them as they looked at each other. They had the same thought and both sprinted to leave the house to find you. Both boys raced outside to come upon a different scene. 

They ran out the door just in time to see another unfamiliar man - a beta this time- take a flying kick straight to the face by none other than Felix, with an extremely frightened Hyunjin cowering behind him, holding out his car keys as if they were a weapon. Both boys winced at the force with which the beta man thudded head first onto the concrete of the driveway, instantly knocking him out. 

Felix was out of breath and his hands were still up as he was ready to continue to defend his elder pack mate, but he was able to put them down when he saw that it was Seungmin and Changbin who had excited the house. “I-I don’t know what’s going on. We left to get more lemonade since Ji drank it all and we came back to this dude trying to attack us.” 

“He’s a member of the Ateez, there's a few more of them in the house. How the hell did you manage to take him down?” Changbin asked, coming around to check for injuries on the two betas. Hyunjin clung to him as he shook, needing alpha comfort. The two remaining boys that were inside finally came out to join everyone else, Jeongins face and neck were covered in the red liquid. Jisung clung to him in fear as he trailed behind, big eyes wet with tears as they frantically searched the surroundings. 

Felix furrowed his brow, “Did you forget I did Taekwondo for twelve years?” 

Yes..Yes Changbin had forgotten. Before he could respond, they all heard another pounding of feet coming their way very quickly. They all readied themselves for another attack but instead of another enemy coming around it was Minho. He was breathing hard and his whole body was covered in blood. 

He halted his running when he saw most of his packmates gathered together and none of them seemed injured much (besides the few hits Changbin had taken). 

“Thank god.” He breathed in relief. Minho could feel his body begin to sag to the ground, the adrenaline wearing off knowing they were here and were ok. 

Seungmin had sprung forward to catch the elder beta just before he hit the ground, “Woah buddy, I got you.” He lowered him as gently as he could. As much as he didn’t want to trigger Minho he knew he needed to ask the hard questions. “Who did this to you Minho? Where is Y/n?” 

Minho tried to stand, staggering to his feet as Seungmin held him up. “Hongjoong.. The-the green house..” 

Every single one of them stiffened at the mention of the dangerous alpha, but none of them could fly into action as the screeching of blaring sirens rang through the surrounding woods. Seconds later a barrage of cop cars and emergency vehicles flew onto the main property, followed by the familiar sight of Chan's car. 

Everything would be ok now. Their alpha was home. 

Chan got out of his car faster than lightning and he sprinted over to the pack. His eyes were wild and he was drenched in that all too familiar red. He scanned each one of his members and his gaze softened only slightly when he recognized that they were all alive. Then his eyes widened again when he didn’t see his mate amongst the crowd. 

“Where is she?!” He demanded, trying to pick up her presence but only getting the stink of blood everywhere around him. Chan had called the police and explained the situation to them while he sped down the roads, making it home in record time, so the officers were already fanning out and looking for the offenders. 

“The greenhouse.” Minho coughed, staggering that way. “She’s hiding in the greenhouse.” Chan wanted to help his pack mate but the urge to go to you and make sure you were safe weighed on him. Minho could see it in his eyes, “Chan.. You should know what sight you're about to walk in on..” 

The sirens in the distance spooked you, making you flinch and screw your eyes shut. Theoretically you knew that sirens meant police- meant help- but the irrational part of you couldn’t help but be fearful. Fearful of what had transpired right outside this greenhouse, what you had done to that man.  

You clutched your makeshift weapon tighter and you scooted back as far as you could under the table when you heard the thudding of footsteps drawing close to the greenhouse. The approaching person stopped outside where the body lay and you could hear the click of teeth. You held your breath and tried not to make a single sound as the person started walking slowly into the greenhouse. 

“Baby?” 

Your eyes flew open at the gentle sound of your alphas voice. 

“Ch-channie?” You called out weakly, slowly peering your head out from your hiding spot. You looked out to see your alpha, blood all over him and the most solemn look on his face. You crawled out of your spot and bolted for him, throwing your whole body at him and letting out the most devastating cry he had ever heard. “Alpha! Alpha m’ so sorry. M’ so sorry. I killed him. I killed him.” 

“My omega, you’re alright and that’s all that matters.” He buried his face into you and felt his own tears gather at the corner of his lash line. “My brave, strong girl. I got you, omega. Alphas got you.” 

“He-he hurt Min, I didn’t know what else to do. He said he killed my dad.” You kept repeating it through your cries. Chan could feel all your terror and agony through his claim and it made his heart split in two. The murder of your father was news to him and he kept his surprise hidden for your sake. He knew it would take you a long, long time to recover from this event. With a lump in his throat he scooped you up into his arms from off the ground, tucking you securely into him. 

He made sure to fold your head into his neck as he walked out of the greenhouse, making sure you didn’t see the body that remained on the ground- the police would come around soon enough and deal with the mess. Though he couldn’t help the vicious curl of his lips at the body of the alpha below. ‘That’s what you get for fucking with my pack.’ He thought cynically as he passed. 

He carried you all the way to the front patio of the house where the rest of the pack was getting questioned and wounds treated. Jisung was the first to see you both coming up and burst into tears, leaping off his seat and straight for you, wrapping you and Chan in his hug. 

“Baby, my baby.” He cried and he held you both. “I. was. So. scared.” He choked between sobs. 

You didn’t say anything as you stuck out an arm to pull him closer while being held still, not having it in you to respond right now. At the mention of you, each of the boys who weren’t being treated gathered around and you all held each other in a big group hug. The only one who couldn’t be included was Minho, for he was being patched up by an EMT by the ambulance. He bit his lip as he watched his pack together again, all safe. It made the pain he experienced worth it.

Chan lifted his head to spot the beta that was further away, both of them locking eyes as Chan got a good look at just how messed up his second in command really was. Carefully Chan handed your trembling body off to the member closest to you, which happened to be Jisung. The beta took you delicately and the rest of them continued to hold you and shower you with whispers of their love.

Each one of them could feel your sorrow and guilt as it seeped out of you in waves. Minho did his best to explain all that had transpired so they knew what you had gone through. They knew what you needed now was just for them to hold you and love you. And the hug pile allowed them to shield you from the various stretchers and body bags that were being taken from within the house. 

Chan walked over to Minho and eyed the large bandage that was being wrapped around his arm. He rested his hand on the betas shoulder, and crouched down to his level. He waited there for a moment while the EMT finished their work and gave Minho care instructions. The second the EMT walked away he grabbed the beta is an encompassing hug. 

Minho had seldom seen the alpha cry, but now as he held him he felt the drops of warm liquid fall into his shoulder and felt the shaking of the elders body. 

“Thank you, Minho. Thank you for keeping her safe.” Min clutched harder onto his pack leader and he himself began to wail at the sentiment. 

“When you called.. I ran faster than I ever had in my life.. And when I saw the hold he had on her and how she was crying…” They both growled at the thought of that fuckers dirty hands on you. “I didn’t know what to do..” 

Chan nodded and wiped the tears from his own face, “ Our omega got away from him because of you. I couldn’t have chosen a better second to run my pack.” The sheriff was sauntering up the pair with an exasperated look on his face. 

“Chan, the three of us need to have a conversation about what happened here today.” 

You winced as the medical professional dabbed at your wounds with alcohol and disinfectant. The elder beta woman gave you looks of sympathy after each one, muttering apologies yet continuing to treat you. Hyunjin and Jisung hadn’t left your side once, they stood behind and beside you as both of them scoured the area as if expecting more impending threats. Each of the other boys were giving statements since they were the ones to directly defend themselves and the pack. 

“You’re doing so well, baby. We are so so proud of you.” Hyunjin praised you with kisses to your head from behind. 

Jisung nodded, “Yeah, you are the most badass woman alive. I can’t believe I get to call you ours.” He rubbed his thumb comfortingly along your knuckles. 

You felt so numb you barely registered what they were saying to you, only nodding to their words and leaning further into their touch. By now you were littered with bandages to cover your knicks and scratches. Soon enough the woman bid you farewell- the boys thanked her vehemently for helping you- and you were left with just the guys. 

One by one each of the pack joined you back on the porch and you all watched as the officers and emergency vehicles cleared off the property. The only remaining one was the sheriff who was still a few yards away talking with the top two in command. 

You could see the sheriff clap both boys on the back before they all walked back up to where you sat. The sheriff leaned down and took his hat off as he addressed you. “I want to offer my apologies and my condolences about what has transpired. Not just here today but with your family as well.” 

The tears threatened to return when what he said registered for you. “You mean.. My dad is..” 

He nodded heavily, “I am so sorry, Ms.L/n. I had heard about it only this morning and didn’t get a chance to contact Chan about it.” Felix was the one to grab onto you as the sobs returned. The sheriff grimaced and hung his head, “Any information I have about it will be sent over to you pronto.” He addressed Chan. 

“Thank you, we appreciate it.” The old man nodded and bid you all farewell. 

For what felt like hours you all sat there together and comforted each other. Most of you were still doused in the offensive red liquid that has since dried on your skin but all that mattered is that even though you were dirty and traumatized you were there together. Your new family was together and whole and nothing- not even a psychotic alpha on a power trip- could break your new found family apart. 

You awoke with gasps for air and your body covered in sweat. You leaned forward and put your head in your hands, rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to rid your mind of the spine chilling images. Another night, another nightmare. It had been three weeks since the ‘incident’. Three weeks since you murdered- no not murdered- defended Minho against Hongjoong, and every night since then you have awoken from the terrifying dreams that plagued you at night. 

Chan felt you move and he stirred awake from beside you, yawning as he sat up and put his arm around you. “Bad dreams again?” He asked, his voice laced with sleep.

You nodded, and removed your hands from your face and grabbed his hand. “I can’t unsee it, Channie. No matter how hard I try I can’t get the image of Hongjoongs dead body out of my mind. And whenever I manage to let it go for a moment and go to sleep again it’s the same thing but then it’s my dads body. It’s never ending.” 

He sighed wistfully and kissed your head. He knew you needed sleep since you hadn’t gotten much lately and he could tell it was weighing down on you. So after searching his brain for a solution he came up with something that he thought would help you, at least for tonight. 

“I’ll be back in a second, baby. Go ahead and lay down.” You nodded again and laid back down in your spot. Chan got out of bed and quietly shuffled out of the room. After about five minutes he came back into the room, this time with another person trailing behind him. You squinted through the darkness to see who it was. “Min? What’re you doin?” 

Chan got back into his spot and Minho came around to your side and motioned for you to scoot over. “I’m coming to cuddle, what does it look like?” 

Ever since you and Minho had gone through that traumatic event together you had been finding comfort with him more often than you used to. It felt like now you were both more kindred spirits. Chan knew that having Min around would help you relax a little more. Tonight specifically you needed to rest; your fathers wake was tomorrow evening and you had to be up early so you could travel down to your hometown. Of course Chan would be accompanying you, along with Felix. 

A few days after the ‘incident’ Chan had reached out to your family on your behalf. Your mother sobbed when he told her you were alright and not with Hongjoong. It turns out your brother was taking over as head alpha of your old pack and he planned on changing a lot of things; starting with apologizing to you for your fathers attitude towards omegas and for not intervening when you had to be sheltered away. 

Your brother had invited you to your fathers memorial service and though you were apprehensive to accept the invitation Chan thought it would be good for you to reconnect with your family since he knew you had missed them so much. 

You scooted over and allowed the beta to slide into bed beside you. He got in and instantly you felt more relaxed at having him here. It wasn’t that you necessarily loved Minho more than the other boys, it was more like since he almost died at the hands of a psycho you needed to have him in sight so your omega brain knew he was safe- was alive. 

“Better?” The alpha asked once he was settled. You nodded and were overcome with a yawn. He chuckled and wrapped around you from the other side, sandwiching you between the two men. 

“I love you, Channie. I love you Min.” You mumbled before sleep found you again, this time with no nightmares. 

Welp... this is it, the end of the series. BUT this is not the full end of the story! I will be taking questions and doing little drabbles about my darling pack so please send your thoughts and questions 💕

Thank you to every single person who has read or interacted with my story i appreciate and love every one of you 🥰

Beta read by my loves @ayejaii and @jehhskz <3

©doitforbangchan 2024

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[briefinquiries]

Under the Blood Moon | Peaky Blinders | Chapter 23

Tommy Shelby x Reader: Chapter 23

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23

Fic Summary: You came to Birmingham for a fresh start, to bury the past and keep your head down. As a former nurse in the war, you’ve seen enough blood and death to last a lifetime. But fate (and the Shelby’s) have other plans. After stitching Tommy Shelby back together, you find yourself drawn further into their world, a world of violence, loyalty, and power. When Tommy offers you a job, it comes with more than just good pay, it comes with expectations and lines you never planned to cross.

Chapter summary: In the aftermath of the wedding chaos, you and the rest of the Shelby's take shelter. As the night drags on, you begin to learn more about Luca Changretta.

Word count: 7k

Warnings: Violence, injury, mentions of blood, PTSD and war flashbacks, alcohol use, and mild language

A/N: omg I haven't updated in way too long, sorry everyone. this is sort of a filler chapter, but more angst and action coming soon :)

--

For once, you woke before Tommy.

The room was still dim, the pale light of dawn just beginning to filter through the curtains in soft, silvery strands. Everything was quiet, the kind of hush that only existed in those early morning hours before the world stirred.

And beside you, Tommy slept. His face was turned slightly toward you, the muscles of his jaw slack, his breathing slow and even. The furrow that so often carved itself between his brows had softened, gone entirely, like the weight of everything he carried had, just for a moment, let him rest.

You didn’t move. Instead, you watched him, your cheek nestled against the pillow, heart aching with something you couldn’t quite name.

He looked younger like this. Softer. Like the boy he must’ve once been, long before the war, before the business, before everything.

You let your eyes trace the familiar lines of his face, the curve of his mouth, the faint shadow of stubble, the way his lashes rested gently against his cheekbones. He looked so peaceful it almost made your throat tighten.

How many nights had you fallen asleep to the sound of him pacing the floor below, cigarette glowing in the dark? How many mornings had you woken to find the space beside you already cold, already empty?

But not today.

Today, he was here. Safe. Breathing slow beside you.

For a while, you didn’t move. You just watched him, trying to memorize the way the morning painted him in gold. The soft rise and fall of his chest. The way his arm had draped across your waist sometime during the night, still resting there like even in sleep he needed to know you were close.

Your thumb brushed over his wedding band, worn for less than a day, and something inside you twisted. Not out of fear, exactly. But the kind of aching love that came with knowing peace like this never lasted long. Not in his world. And not in yours, anymore. 

Carefully, you let your fingers drift up, skimming the line of his jaw, the faint stubble there. You traced the scar just beneath his cheekbone, the soft dip above his brow, the lashes so dark against his skin. Your touch was featherlight, reverent. Like if you pressed too hard, he’d vanish.

He stirred. A quiet grunt escaped him, and his brow furrowed ever so slightly, the beginnings of a frown tugging at his mouth.

“‘S too early,” he mumbled, voice hoarse with sleep.

You smiled, the sound of him like honey in your chest. “Go back to sleep, then.”

He didn’t answer, just shifted, catching your wrist in his hand before you could pull away. Without opening his eyes, he brought your fingers to his lips and kissed them, soft and slow, then pulled you down into him.

You went willingly, melting into his chest, into the heat of him. His arm looped around your waist, strong and sure, and he pressed a kiss to your temple. Then your cheek. Then your mouth.

Lazy and warm and just a little bit greedy.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were open, half-lidded but focused on you. 

A slow smile tugged at his lips, still heavy with sleep. “Think I’m going to spend the whole morning right here,” he murmured, voice rough. “In bed. With my wife.”

You raised a brow, teasing. “Didn't realize you were such a romantic.”

“I know better than to leave a warm bed and a beautiful woman without good reason.” he said simply, brushing his nose against yours. 

Before you could reply, he rolled you gently onto your back, his weight settling over you, not heavy, just enough to remind you of his strength, his presence.

His eyes searched yours, dark and hungry now, but still quiet and unhurried. Like he had all the time in the world.

Your breath hitched as his lips found the hollow beneath your ear, as his hand slipped beneath the sheets, dragging slow over your waist, your hip.

“Tommy…” you warned, though it didn’t sound like a protest.

He hummed, the sound deep and satisfied, before pressing a kiss to your throat. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

You didn’t. You couldn’t.

Because in that moment, wrapped in linen and morning light and him, there was nowhere else you wanted to be.

…

Tommy left later that day.

He pressed a kiss to your temple and made a promise to be back before dinner. A quiet apology hidden in the way his hand lingered at the small of your back before the door closed behind him, Arthur, and John.

Now, the house felt both too big and too full.

“You’d think,” Ada said from behind you, her tone brittle, “after his wedding ends in gunfire, maybe the groom would take a day off.”

Esme snorted from where she sat cross-legged on the edge of the hearth, flipping a playing card between her fingers. “Please. That man probably counts bullets the way most people count wedding gifts.”

“Enough, both of you,” Polly said sharply, though her voice was calmer than her eyes. She didn’t even look up, just cradled her teacup in both hands, her rings catching the firelight, gaze fixed on the flicker of flames like she was trying to read omens in the ash.

You turned, taking in the room fully for the first time. 

Ada was pacing along the length of the rug, arms folded tight across her chest, her jaw set. She’d already burned through half a cigarette without noticing, the ash curling dangerously close to her fingers. 

Polly sat in her usual chair, spine straight, elegance untouched by the weight pressing on the house. Her tea sat cooling in her lap, untouched. 

Esme, ever the wildcard, looked like she could either laugh or start a fire, depending on who spoke next. Her foot bounced idly, knee jostling as she flicked the card again—King of Hearts this time. 

You leaned a shoulder against the wall, your gaze drifting. “At least he slept,” you murmured, almost to yourself. “Didn’t think he would. Not after everything that’s happened.”

Ada flopped onto the arm of the couch. “Must’ve been exhausted.”

“That or getting married really wore him out,” Esme said. 

You snorted. “Probably both.”

“How’s Finn?” Ada asked, glancing toward Polly.

Polly leaned back in her chair with a quiet sigh, her hands resting over her cup like she was weighing the question. “Also exhausted,” she said. “I checked on him earlier. He was still dead to the world. Didn’t so much as twitch when I called his name.”

Your stomach fluttered, equal parts concern and relief.

“He looked better than yesterday,” Polly added after a moment. “Color’s back in his face.”

You let out a slow breath through your nose and nodded. “Good.”

Ada tucked her legs up underneath her on the couch and gave you a look. “So, how’s married life treating you? One full day in. Any regrets yet?”

You smirked. “Ask me after my next near-death experience.”

Esme chuckled into her tea. “That’s the true Shelby spirit.”

“Do you remember your wedding?” you asked Polly, more curious than anything.

Polly raised a brow, as if deciding whether to share. “I do.”

Esme snorted. “John told me there was a fistfight at the reception.”

“Two, actually,” Polly said primly, taking a sip of tea. “Only one was justified, though.”

You laughed, and Ada leaned in, voice low and conspiratorial. “You know, I half-expected Arthur to give some drunken, weepy speech about the meaning of love last night.”

“He tried,” Polly said dryly. “I stopped him.”

Before you could respond, the sharp buzz of the doorbell cut through the laughter.

The four of you froze, eyes flicking toward the hallway.

Ada was the first to move, slowly setting her cigarette in the ashtray. “Who’d be coming around at this hour?”

Polly stood, setting her teacup down with practiced care. “Stay here,” she said.

You were already rising. “Polly—”

“I said stay.”

Her tone left no room for argument. She moved swiftly, her footsteps quiet as she disappeared down the hall. You, Ada, and Esme all exchanged a glance, the ease from moments before replaced by a slow, creeping tension.

Esme exhaled through her nose. “Fucking hell,” she muttered. “Nothing good ever happens in this house, does it?”

You tried to smile, but your pulse had picked up. You strained to hear—anything. Voices. Footsteps. But all you caught was the soft patter of rain and the faint groan of the floorboards.

A minute passed. Then another.

Finally, Polly returned, her expression unreadable.

She didn’t speak right away, just walked into the room and placed something on the coffee table between you. A box wrapped neatly in cream-colored paper. It was tied with a red ribbon with a card tucked beneath the bow.

Your name written across it in looping black ink.

You stared at it, unease prickling beneath your skin. “What is that?”

Polly didn’t look away from you. “There was no one at the door. It was just sitting there.”

Ada reached over slowly and plucked the card from the top. She flipped it open, eyes scanning the message inside. Her brow furrowed.

“What does it say?” Esme asked.

Ada hesitated. “It says, ‘For the bride. May your days be long and your nights quiet—while they last.’”

No one moved. Silence fell between you all, slow and suffocating.

Ada stared at the card for a second longer, then set it down beside the box like it might burn her fingers. Her jaw tightened. Your pulse thundered in your ears. You hadn’t touched the box, hadn’t even moved. It sat there on the table like it was waiting.

“Ada,” Polly said quietly and firmly. “Call Tommy.”

Ada looked up. “Is that really necessary Pol?”

“Now.”

Ada looked at Polly for only a moment before pushing off the sofa. She strode toward the hall, already pulling a cigarette from behind her ear with one hand and reaching for the phone with the other. You stayed rooted where you were, your eyes fixed on the neat red bow, now seeming almost cruel in its precision.

Polly stepped between you and the box. “Don’t touch it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” you murmured, though your voice sounded far away. “Do you think it’s—”

“I don’t know,” she said. “But until we do, no one goes near it.”

In the hallway, you could hear Ada’s voice rising slightly, sharp and clipped. “I don’t care where he is—get him. Tell him it’s important— Christ, just put him on the bloody line—”

Your mouth went dry as you turned to Polly. “Is it… from him?”

Polly nodded once. “Luca Changretta.”

…

The box hadn’t moved.

Neither had you.

Polly sat across from it, arms folded tight, her expression carved from stone. She hadn’t touched her tea in over an hour. Her eyes stayed fixed on the neat red ribbon as if sheer will could keep it from doing something unspeakable.

Ada paced the hallway like a caged animal, smoke curling from the cigarette clenched between her fingers, her boots echoing softly on the floorboards. Every few minutes, she’d glance toward the front door—sharp, impatient, waiting for the sound of Tommy’s return.

Esme sat sprawled on the rug near the hearth, legs stretched out in front of her. She was rolling a cigarette with practiced ease, her fingers quick and precise even as her eyes flicked up, again and again, to the box. She hadn’t said much since it arrived, just muttered a few things under her breath in Romani now and then, like she was warding something off.

The silence was thick, the kind that hummed behind your ears. No one had touched the box. No one wanted to.

Then, soft footsteps from the stairs.

You turned just as Finn appeared, blinking against the low light. He wore a crumpled shirt and a dazed expression, his hair sticking up on one side like he’d just rolled out of bed.

“Why’s everyone so quiet?” he muttered, voice still rough with sleep. 

Ada turned toward him, visibly relaxing for the first time in hours. “You’re up. We thought you might be hibernating for a minute, there.”

Finn rubbed a hand over his face and yawned. He glanced around, eyes landing on the box on the table. “What’s that?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Polly said gently.

You moved toward him instinctively, scanning him from head to toe. He looked pale, but alright. 

“How do you feel?” you asked.

Finn shrugged one shoulder, his eyes still flicking uneasily toward the box. “Okay. Kind of weird. My ears won’t stop ringing.”

You knelt beside the sofa, your hand resting lightly on his knee. “That’s normal. After something like that… your body is just trying to catch up.”

He glanced at you then, properly, and for just a moment, the little boy slipped through the cracks.

Then, the front door slammed open, hinges groaning in protest.

You heard footsteps. Fast. Heavy.

“Where is it?” Tommy’s voice cut through the house like a blade.

You turned just as he appeared in the doorway to the sitting room, rain clinging to his coat, eyes already scanning the space until they landed on the box. On you.

“Where is it?” he repeated, more to Polly now, breath ragged like he hadn’t stopped moving since Ada called.

Polly nodded toward the table. "There."

Tommy didn’t hesitate. He stalked forward, coat dripping, jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle jumping beneath his cheek.

“Did anyone touch it?” he barked.

“Just me,” Polly said. “But only the box. We haven’t opened it.”

You rose slowly, the back of your knees aching from how long you’d sat. “It had my name on it.”

“I know,” he said without looking at you, eyes fixed on the neat red ribbon like it personally insulted him.

He crouched low, inspecting it—silent for a moment that stretched like wire. You could see his mind working, grinding through possibilities, calculating every angle.

No one moved. The only sound was the quiet tick of the clock on the mantel. Then Tommy exhaled through his nose and reached into his coat, pulling out a pocketknife. He flicked it open, then crouched beside the table.

You watched as he slid the blade under the red ribbon and sliced it cleanly in one motion.

No giant explosion. No trick. Just silence.

He lifted the lid carefully.

Tommy’s jaw ticked once, then twice, before he reached inside and drew out a delicate silver necklace. The chain glinted faintly in the low light, and at the end of it hung a single small charm: a teardrop pearl set in filigree.

Polly peered over his shoulder, frowning. “Why would he send a piece of jewelry?”

“It’s not just jewelry,” Tommy said, rising to his feet. 

He held it out, the necklace dangling from his fist like a noose. “It’s him saying he knows who you are. And what would suit your neck.”

Your stomach turned. You wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly cold.

Tommy’s gaze found yours then, sharp and dark and protective. “Someone was close enough to leave this at our door without being seen.”

Polly’s face was pale, hardening. “You think he’s threatening with proximity?”

Tommy’s grip tightened on the chain. “This is him saying he knows where to find us.”

Tommy stared at the necklace for another beat before turning to Polly. “Stay with her,” he said, low and firm. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”

Polly gave a single nod, already understanding.

“Tommy.” You stepped forward, eyes searching his face. “Where are you going? You just got here—”

His jaw shifted. “I need to make sure he doesn’t get closer.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He looked at you then, and for a brief moment, the fury faded, replaced by something rawer. Something tired. “I need to go figure out if anyone knew about this.” 

Ada blinked. “What if no one talks?” 

“I can be persuasive,” Tommy said, jaw ticking. His tone was cold now. “John and Arthur are already on their way to the Black Lion to lean on a few men we’ve had eyes on. I sent Johnny Dogs up to Digbeth to ask around the betting shops—see who’s been talking. Charlie went with him.”

You felt a chill run through you, not from the words, but the way he said them. Flat. Certain. Like violence was already a given.

“Tommy—” you pleaded. 

He crossed the space between you and pressed his hands gently to your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “You’re safe here with Polly. Just don’t open the door. Don’t leave the house.”

You blinked at him. “I don’t want you to go.”

His hands stayed on your face, steady despite everything. “I know,” he said quietly. “But I have to.”

Your throat tightened. “You don’t. Not right now. We could wait. We could—”

“We can’t wait,” he cut in, voice low but firm. “He sent this today. Tomorrow it could be something worse.”

You shook your head, pressing your palms against his chest like you could anchor him there. “I don’t care about necklances or cards or fucking threats—I care about you coming back.”

He didn’t speak right away. He just covered your hands with his own, holding them in place over his heart.

“I married you to protect you,” he said. “Not let you be threatened in your own home. Not to bring a war to your doorstep.”

You stared up at him, heart aching. “Here I was thinking you married me because you loved me.”

His eyes softened. “That too.”

You wanted to kiss him. To beg him to stay. But you knew better. Tommy Shelby didn’t run. Not from anything. 

So instead, you said the only thing you could. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your cheek. “I will. I always do.”

Then he kissed you—deep and certain, like it might have to last you both for a while.

When he pulled away, he turned without looking back.

And this time, when the door closed behind him, it felt like the whole house exhaled with it.

…

The hours passed slowly, stretched thin by the waiting.

Tommy didn’t call—not like you had really expected him to this soon. The quiet had its own kind of weight. Every creak in the house felt louder. Every car engine from the street set your nerves on edge.

Still, you did what you could to fill the silence.

Polly brewed another pot of tea, stronger this time. She moved with the same grace she always did, but her eyes were sharper, constantly flicking toward the window. Watching.

Ada had taken up residence on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she flipped through the paper, occasionally snorting at headlines and offering running commentary whether anyone responded or not.

“They described it as eventful,” she muttered, puffing on a cigarette. “Birmingham’s bloody standards, I suppose.” 

You offered a small, dry smile, but the silence that followed felt like it had weight—like the walls themselves were listening.

Still, you did what you could to fill it.

Across the room, Esme sat cross-legged on the floor, her skirt bunched around her and her dark braid swinging over one shoulder. She was carving something small from a scrap of wood, the shavings collecting in a soft pile beside her like snow. The little figure looked like it might become a horse, or maybe a wolf—it was hard to tell.

Every few minutes, she’d glance up at the fireplace or the box still sitting tucked beneath the sideboard, her eyes narrowing.

Finn was curled up in the armchair near the window, a heavy knit blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He wasn’t reading the book open in his lap so much as staring through it, his gaze occasionally drifting toward the door.

You weren’t sure he even realized he was chewing on his thumbnail until Polly gently reached over and tugged his hand away, replacing it with a warm teacup.

“Drink,” she murmured. 

He didn’t argue. Just nodded once, quiet as ever, and took a sip.

You watched him for a moment—how small he looked in that big chair, how tightly he gripped the cup in both hands like it might keep him grounded.

Later, Ada convinced everyone to help her bake something—though "bake" might’ve been generous. It was more her ordering Finn around the kitchen while you tried not to burn your fingers on the dishcloth.

“Better learn how to run the house if you’re going to be Mrs. Shelby,” Ada teased, hip-bumping you aside as she took over your attempt at sifting flour. 

Polly made a noise in her throat. “Like any man in this family could run anything without us.”

You chuckled despite yourself, shaking your head as the oven clanked and groaned to life.

There was a moment where things almost felt normal. Like you were just five people in a house with too much time on your hands, not waiting for word from a man in the midst of waging war in the streets.

As dusk settled outside, casting long shadows over the floorboards, Polly poured a glass of sherry for each of you and lit the lamps one by one.

“I used to hate nights like this,” she said suddenly. “All the waiting. Reminded me too much of the war. Sitting and staring at walls.”

You glanced at her, something aching in your chest. Your fingers curled around the stem of the glass, the sherry untouched. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, throwing flickering light across the sitting room, and for a moment, you weren't in Small Heath anymore.

You were standing in a narrow hallway that smelled of iodine and burning wool. Your apron stiff with blood. The quiet in between waves louder than the screaming ever was.

"I used to wait, too," you murmured, eyes unfocused. "Back at the aid station. We'd hear the shelling in the distance, and we'd wait. For trucks. For stretchers. For whoever came through the door next.”

No one said anything. 

You took a slow breath. “Sometimes… It was hours. Just silence. And the longer it went on, the more unbearable it got. Because I knew it meant something worse was coming. Something big.”

The image came back too easily—white bandages stained red, the tin cup of tea someone had tried to offer you with shaking hands, the endless shuffle of boots in corridors.

“And then,” you continued, voice low, “someone would come in missing half their face. Or screaming. Or already dead. And I’d move. I’d do my job. I’d stitch and clean and calm and talk and hope they made it until morning. But in those hours before?”

You looked down at your hands, flexing them like you could still feel the sting of alcohol and the way gloves would stick to your skin.

“In those hours, I felt so useless. Like a ghost in my own body.”

Ada reached out, wordlessly placing her hand over yours.

You didn’t look up, but you gripped her fingers tightly. “I’ve never heard you talk much about the war,” she said quietly. 

You let out a huff. “It’s not something I like to remember.”

Polly, quiet as ever, just nodded. 

You sat back in your chair, the warmth of the fire barely reaching your skin.

And as the clock ticked on, you waited again. Only this time, it wasn’t for the wounded to come through the door. It was for the man you loved to walk back through it in one piece.

…

The windows had gone dark.

Outside, the streetlamps buzzed to life one by one, casting long, fractured streaks of light across the living room floor. The day had slipped quietly into night, unnoticed until the shadows began to stretch.

Someone had drawn the curtains halfway earlier, but the wind kept nudging them open, making them flutter like restless ghosts. The fire had burned down to embers. The room was warm, but the silence made it feel colder than it was.

You sat curled in one of the armchairs, mug in hand, long gone cold. The others had grown quiet, too. Even Ada, who’d been talking just minutes before, was now staring blankly at the wall, a cigarette burning low between her fingers.

And then, finally, the phone rang.

Everyone froze.

No one moved to answer it at first. Polly was the one who finally rose from her chair, smooth and composed as ever, though you could see the tension in the set of her shoulders. She disappeared into the hall, footsteps light but brisk, the ringing still echoing in your ears.

No one spoke while she was gone.

Finn lay beside you on the couch, his head nearly resting in your lap and his blanket bunched up at his waist. He’d drifted in and out of sleep for the last hour, the tension finally wearing down into exhaustion. Now, his eyes were open again, watching the dancing glow of the firelight with a distant, heavy-lidded stare.

Your hand rested lightly against his shoulder, thumb brushing absently back and forth. He didn’t say anything, but he leaned into the touch like it grounded him.

“He’s gonna find the man who's doing all of this, right?” Finn murmured, barely louder than a whisper.

You glanced down at him. “Of course. Tommy always does.”

Finn nodded, but it was a quiet, solemn sort of nod. Not a child’s blind faith—something closer to a weary kind of knowing. Like he understood, even at twelve, that when Tommy Shelby went looking for someone, he found them.

“I wish I could help,” he murmured, voice barely above the fire’s crackle. “I’m a Shelby, too.”

You looked at the flicker of frustration in his young face, and the way his fists curled beneath the blanket. He was so young. Too young to be carrying that name like a burden instead of a legacy.

He stared into the flames, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Everyone else is doing something. Aunt Polly, Arthur, John… even Ada sometimes. I just get told to stay out of the way.”

Your fingers smoothed down the back of his hair, gentle, slow. “That’s not a punishment, you know. That’s protection. Because you’re important to all of them.”

He stayed quiet after that, eyes locked on the fire, jaw set in that stubborn Shelby way.

Polly’s voice rose faintly in the hall, sharper now. You couldn’t make out the words, but the tension in them cut clear through the wall.

Finn blinked slowly. “He’s mad.”

You didn’t answer.

Because yes—yes, he was.

But more than that, he was afraid. And that was always worse.

The call ended a minute later, and Polly returned to the room, her face composed but pale. You felt Finn tense as he shifted, pretending to still be asleep as Polly’s eyes swept the room.

“He’s alright,” she said, voice carefully measured. “Following a lead. John and Arthur are with him. Says he’ll be back late.”

Esme made a sound in the back of her throat and rose to her feet, brushing shavings from her skirt. “That calls for a drink.”

Without waiting for agreement, she crossed to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle—deep amber, expensive enough to be reserved for more than casual sipping. She popped the cork with a practiced twist and set a handful of glasses down on the table.

“No arguments,” she added, already pouring. “I’m not sitting here sober while we all wait for another ghost to knock.”

Ada stretched her legs out on the couch, accepting a glass with a shrug. 

Polly raised a brow as she took hers. 

You hesitated for half a second before accepting the drink Esme handed you. The liquid warmed your palm instantly, and you welcomed the sting of it when you took a sip.

Finn still lay beside you on the couch, quiet, still bundled under his blanket. His eyes were closed now, lashes brushing pale cheeks, his face slack with something close to real sleep. You watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way his small fingers curled slightly around the edge of the cushion.

The hours slipped by slowly, thick with silence and flickering firelight.

No one said much anymore. The whisky had mostly been forgotten. Polly kept her seat near the front window, arms folded tightly, eyes fixed on the darkened street like she could will headlights to appear. Ada sat curled up in the armchair, chin resting on her fist, her cigarette burned down to the filter without her noticing. Esme stretched out on the rug, head tilted back, fingers tapping idly on the floor in a steady rhythm.

You were still on the couch, legs tucked beneath you, staring into the fire but seeing very little.

Finn had fallen asleep again, his breathing slow and even. You brushed hair from his forehead, pulling the blanket higher. He never stirred.

The house felt like it was holding its breath.

Finally—sometime past one—a car pulled up out front.

Everyone jolted upright.

The front door opened a moment later, and in stepped John, then Arthur. Both looked exhausted. Rumpled. John’s knuckles were scraped raw, and Arthur’s coat was soaked through at the shoulders.

But neither of them were bleeding. And neither of them were Tommy.

“What happened?” Polly stood immediately. “Where’s Tommy?”

Arthur let out a long breath as he peeled off his coat. “Still out.”

“He sent us back,” John added, voice low. “Said he needed to follow something up on his own.”

Polly’s jaw tightened. “Of course he did.”

Ada stood now too, eyes narrowed. “And he didn’t say where?”

“Said he’d be back before sunrise,” Arthur muttered, running a hand through his wet hair. “Said not to wait up.”

“Like hell,” Polly snapped. “What did he find out?”

John glanced toward Finn’s sleeping form, then back at you. “Someone who helped the Italians get close. Name came up in a backroom at The Barrel. Tommy wants to make sure it was real before he tells anyone.”

Arthur, still drying rain from his face with his sleeve, shrugged like it was out of his hands. “He said it had to be quiet. If word gets out that we know, this bastard’ll disappear.”

Your gaze drifted to the window. The rain had picked up again, tapping against the glass in a steady rhythm. You could just make out the reflection of the firelight behind you, but the street beyond was a blur of shadows.

Polly stood by the door for another minute before finally locking it with a quiet click, her jaw still tight. The echo of it seemed to settle something, if only on the surface.

She stayed there for a moment longer, her hand resting on the doorknob, eyes scanning the dark street beyond the frosted glass. The house behind her had fallen into a heavy, worn kind of silence—the kind that clings after too many hours of bad news and not enough rest.

John rubbed a hand over his face, rolling his shoulders with a grunt as he turned back toward the room. “I’m calling it,” he said, voice low but firm. “If he’s not back yet, he’s not coming until morning.”

No one argued.

It was the kind of resignation that didn’t need discussion anymore.

Arthur gave a small nod, already slipping off his coat, and Esme pulled the curtains tighter as she passed, muttering something under her breath about the cold seeping in through the floorboards.

No one made a move to leave the house. Not tonight.

Without a word, John and Esme drifted toward the back room they’d shared the night before, boots scuffing quietly against the floorboards.

Arthur bent down at the couch, brushing Finn’s hair back before lifting him carefully into his arms. The boy barely stirred, his head falling against Arthur’s shoulder, small fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

“Little bugger’s a deadweight,” Arthur muttered softly, but there was affection in it, deep and worn.

He carried Finn up the stairs, his footsteps slow and deliberate, while Ada trailed behind. 

And just like that, one by one, the rest of the house began to dim. Floorboards creaked overhead. A door clicked shut. A blanket rustled into place.

Only the fire remained—low and steady, casting warm shadows against the walls.

Polly returned to her chair. And you stayed beside her, both of you facing the quiet like it was something alive.

Neither of you spoke for a long while.

The fire popped gently, and somewhere above, the faintest creak of someone turning in their sleep.

You didn’t say anything. Just stared into the fire until the shapes in the flames started to blur.

After a while, you asked, “Was it always like this? Before me?”

Polly huffed a quiet laugh. “You think this is new?”

You smiled faintly. “No. I guess I just thought… maybe it wasn’t this constant.”

Polly leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment. “The only thing constant in this family is that someone always thinks they can end it. And they always underestimate how far we’ll go to keep it standing.”

The fire crackled again, louder this time. You watched the embers pulse and fade, over and over.

The room fell quiet after that. 

Your body grew heavier with each passing minute. The weight of the night, the fear, the warmth of the fire—it all tugged at your limbs.

You meant to stay awake, meant to be there when the door finally opened, and when Tommy returned.

But your eyes fluttered shut sometime after two, and the last thing you felt was the soft dip of the cushion beside you, the fire painting the backs of your eyelids in flickering gold.

And then there was nothing but sleep.

…

You stirred at the sensation of fingers brushing lightly across your forehead, the touch feather-light, careful. Gentle fingertips swept a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, then lingered for a breath too long, like the hand didn’t want to leave.

A voice followed, low and warm, barely above a whisper. It reached you through the haze of sleep like something half-dreamed:

“Sweetheart.”

Your brows knit slightly as your body slowly remembered where you were—the couch, the fire, the weight of exhaustion still clinging to your bones. But it was the voice that pulled you further awake. Familiar. Rough around the edges. His.

Your eyes fluttered open, lashes heavy, the dim glow of the dying fire casting him in soft shadow.

Tommy was crouched beside you, still in his coat, the collar damp from rain. His eyes looked darker in the low light, tired, rimmed with something too raw to name, but they softened the moment they met yours.

His hand stayed on your cheek now, thumb sweeping slowly across your skin, as if reassuring himself that you were real. Still here. Still safe.

The breath you hadn’t realized you were holding trembled out of you.

And without a word, you reached for him.

Your fingers barely curled around the lapel of his coat before he moved, leaning in and slipping one arm beneath your knees, the other around your back. You let out a small, unsteady breath as he lifted you from the couch, holding you close like something precious.

Your head dropped against his shoulder, your face nestling instinctively into the curve of his neck. He was warm beneath the damp chill of his coat, smelling of rain, smoke, and the faint trace of whiskey. His heartbeat thudded steadily beneath your cheek.

He said nothing, and just held you tighter.

The house was silent as he carried you upstairs, every step slow, careful, deliberate. His boots creaked against the old wood floor, the faint sound of the fire still crackling somewhere below.

At the top of the stairs, he hesitated only long enough to shoulder open the bedroom door, the familiar scent of the space you’d shared the night before welcoming you like an exhale.

He crossed to the bed and lowered you gently onto the mattress, his hands never leaving you, not even as he pulled the blankets over your legs and brushed a final kiss to your forehead.

You blinked up at him, only half-awake now. “You came back,” you whispered. 

He shed his coat, tossing it on the chair in the corner, before loosening his collar.

“I always come back,” he murmured. 

Your voice was quiet. Barely a whisper against the hush of the room. “What happened?”

He didn’t answer at first. Just worked at the buttons of his shirt for a moment, each one slow, deliberate, like even that required more energy than he had left.

“I followed a name,” he said finally, voice rough with fatigue. “It was someone who’s been close to us for years.”

You watched him in the low lamplight, your cheek still pressed to the pillow. His hands moved with tired precision, sliding the shirt from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor without a second glance.

He had a bruise on his side—like a shadow blooming on his ribs. He ran a hand through his hair, then let out a long breath and turned toward the bed.

You shifted to make space, lifting the blanket as he eased in beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. The chill of the room clung to his skin, but he was warm beneath it—his body radiating heat, his breathing still uneven.

Neither of you spoke as he pulled you gently into him, one arm wrapping around your waist, his other hand sliding beneath the pillow.

You curled instinctively against him, your forehead brushing his chest, your palm resting just over his heart.

“Did they talk?” you asked quietly. 

Tommy’s jaw ticked. “Eventually.”

The word settled heavy between you.

You studied him in the quiet—how tired he looked, how far away his eyes had gone. Like some part of him was still in that back room, still in the moment he’d gotten the truth he’d gone looking for.

You swallowed, hesitant. “Who was it?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the ceiling, his fingers absently tracing a line across your hip beneath the blanket. The touch was thoughtless, gentle—something to keep his hands busy while his mind worked through the damage.

“His name is O’Dolan,” he said finally. “Used to run messages for us. He helps with small jobs. He sold some information,” Tommy continued, voice flat. “Didn’t even ask who it was going to. Said he needed the money. Said he didn’t think it would lead to blood.”

Tommy’s jaw worked as he stared at the ceiling, like he couldn’t quite unclench it.

“He told them everything. Which doors we’d use. What time the guests would arrive. Which men were watching the grounds. Even mentioned you—”

His arm tightened around you as if he’d said too much, like the words themselves made the danger real all over again.

You felt it in the way his body tensed, the way his breath hitched just slightly before he kissed your forehead, soft, lingering. Like a promise, or maybe an apology.

You stayed still for a moment, soaking in the warmth of him, the smell of rain and smoke clinging faintly to his skin. But the question had already lodged in your throat, and it burned too much to hold back.

“What does Luca Changretta even want, Tommy?”

He stilled beside you, his hand frozen against your hip. You felt him inhale through his nose, slow and sharp.

“Revenge,” he said finally. “For his father. His name was Vicente Changretta. For so long, we were bleeding territory. Changretta was playing both sides—taking money from us and from them. Passing messages. Selling lies. We warned him twice. There’s been a lot of bad blood.”

His eyes flicked toward the ceiling, gaze far away now.

“Not long ago, John shot Luca’s brother—and it started a chain reaction. They tried to retaliate. Nearly put a bullet in Arthur. It escalated fast.”

You felt your breath catch. 

“So I made the decision,” he said. “Vicente was handed over to us.”

There was no pride in his voice. No bravado. Just the blunt weight of a man who’d lived long enough with the choices he made.

“You killed him?”

Tommy shook his head. “Arthur pulled the trigger. But I tied him to a chair in a butcher’s shop. And now, Luca wants me to feel what he felt.”

You rested your head against him, heart pounding.

“He wants us to bleed,” he said quietly. “One by one. And he wants me last.”

You closed your eyes, your hand fisting in the fabric of the blanket.

“You weren’t supposed to be part of this,” he said, voice rough.

You looked up at him. “Too late for that.”

His jaw flexed. “I will protect you. I promise you.”

“I know.”

He met your eyes, and something shifted there—just for a second. The sharpness dulled. The weight settled.

You reached up and touched his face, your thumb brushing beneath his eye. 

He caught your wrist gently, pressing a kiss to your palm like a silent promise. Then he tucked you back against his chest, his chin resting against your hair.

And in the quiet, with the storm still circling outside, the two of you held on to each other, because there was nothing left to say, and nowhere else either of you wanted to be.

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[babextoken]

𓍯I just want to be the sum of your broken parts𓂃

Dangerous to Me series ⟡˙⋆chapter 3

Catch up or relive it ⟡˙⋆1 2

summary: a new bombshell, mothmansdad, enters the villa; or your online buddy suggests you try to connect with Vessel after he took a punch for you; or, vessel threatens to host a social event pairing: vessel x reader wc: 1.3k head's up: series, slowish burn, enemies to lovers, coworkers au, video rental store au, plus size reader, brief ptsd flashback, rude!vessel, texting, sexualizing vessel beating that dude, licking blood off lips, they're both still weird dummies a/n: the series has a name now! also I feel like this is filler but I had a lot of fun writing it, so hey 🍍s 𓈒⟡₊⋆∘˚⊹ Situation Enjoyers™: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @adenobabe  @jeriiicho @milk--bones  @myaudiocommentary  @horsebiologist @intake-of-breath @fruitsandcheese @killed-by-thegods @goosepond69 @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @lynzeequitlollygagging @thatxxjiyong-ssi  @cloudy-soul @daddysaidbringthethunder  @evisnotok @cheomain @object-of-my-desire @dreamer-lost-in-wonderland @blvckmvgicwoman @canopies-of-gold-and-evergreen @thewayyoulay @houseofsleeptoken @jerrysghostwriter @music-lover23 @renegadebirch @blackcherrywhiskey

recommended listening:

𓍯𓂃

Your body couldn’t make up its mind. At first when you got home from today’s shift, it felt as though you would sleep for 20 years the second you sat on your couch. Instead, the firmness of the couch’s back reminded you of the brick wall you glued yourself to while Vessel pummeled your…well…he was no one to you now. But that didn’t make it any less terrifying when the whole ordeal happened again behind your eyelids, the same screams getting stuck and dying in your throat before they could come out. Wide awake and very much aware of your panic. The body keeps the score, and baby, you’re losing. Mercifully, your phone buzzes. 

mothmansdad: i cannot sleep 😔 im going to die of sleep deprivation 

It was your new little friend from your “sad person chatroom,” at least that’s what your friends back home called it. It was a platform for making connections and, yes, sometimes people are sad there! You just desperately needed some connection, nothing wrong with that. 

you: damn. I’ll miss you 

Did you know who mothmansdad was? No. Did you really care? Honestly…no. You were evolved enough to not be too scared of internet strangers while also keeping them a healthy distance. For now he was someone neutral to talk to and needed a friend as much as you did. 

mothmansdad: yeah yeah. how was work? x you: honestly? mothmansdad: that’s preferable  you: kind of shit but mostly because I don’t feel like I can talk about what happened  … … … … … … mothmansdad: oh, with the guy? why can’t you talk about it? Has someone shut you down? Because if they’re telling you not to talk about itsg… you: no. I haven’t even tried…I haven’t even tried talking to my coworker that stepped in. 

What you didn’t tell your friend was how Vessel acted after the fight. How he toed the line between a needy pathetic boy and an infantilizing dominant type. And since you hadn’t shared those details you still got to keep it a secret how attractive it was to see Vessel step in. Yes it was the bare minimum to defend someone being assaulted, but this was a first…seeing someone put their body on the line for you.

“Gotten myself all fucked up haven’t I?”

Vessel’s chin wobbled when had asked that. That would stick with you forever. He wasn’t vitriolic. It was like a realization of the person he’d been five minutes before. But recently you remembered another thing from that night that only revealed itself after replaying it in your mind for the 100th time since it happened. When Vessel got punched, you saw him lick the first drops of blood from his lip and smile. Fuck, he might have even chuckled. That moment fueled your fantasies for weeks. But part of you wanted to pull you down and tell you that you weren’t allowed to feel that way. You can’t feel happiness or pleasure, you should be sad. Scared The shame didn’t stick. You couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if you had kissed Vessel to thank him. If you had straddled his lap to clean his wounds. If you offered yourself to him as thanks. 

mothmansdad: and he hasn’t talked to you about it? you: no. But he seems to watch me a little closer, which is actually kinda comforting?  mothmansdad: maybe you should say something. Like another “thank you” or idk.  you: yeah, you’re right. mothmansdad: as always, I know. But think about it, he probably doesn’t know what to say. Not everyday someone gets clocked in the face because they happen upon sex pest  you: alright alright I’ll talk to him.  mothmansdad: you can’t bottle this up you: I’ve talked to you about it though… mothmansdad: that’s not the same, dove, and you know it.

It was also not lost on you that mothmansdad flirted with you. And you flirted right back. You both didn’t know anything about each other (except you’re in the same ish area and you had work drama) and quite frankly that was freeing. 

you: ok, I’ll for sure talk to him tomorrow. mothmansdad: good girl. get some sleep x

The next evening when you come in for your shift, Vessel’s trying to get the wall of TVs to sync with a new movie but there’s a delay. You step right next to him and watch the same scene happen across five screens, all at different parts. Without turning to look at him, you breach the topic.

“I really…can’t thank you enough for your help the other night.”

Vessel also keeps his eyes forward and sighs.

“I wish you didn’t have to thank me…but…you’re welcome. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Yeah…yeah. You’re right. Not the first time I’ve been through something like that…I-“

“Stop surrounding yourself with shit men.”

You scoff hard and finally look at him, only to realize his chin was wobbling again. “Ves…”

“Just. Stop it. Maybe just swear off men for a bit or something.”

“Hey listen…are YOU ok after that?”

He finally meets your gaze. His lip has healed but there’s still the yellow tinge of plasma near his chin. “No. No I’m not. I don’t act like that. Ever. You made me do that.”

“Ok this is verging towards slut shaming and-“

“Would you keep your voice down?” Vessel hisses. “What I mean is you being in trouble made me do that. If you would just listen to me and not assume the worst every time my tone isn’t to your liking…”

“Look, I’m sorry, ok. It just sounded like…” you sigh and have the fleeting realization you’ve never said anything to you about his tone. Just to your little friend. “I apologize. I appreciate you standing up for me. And I hope you’re doing ok. I’m sure that was…scary and painful.” 

Vessel sniffs and rubs his hand over his face and up through his hair. “I’m…not. I’m not ok. But we’re not making this about me.” Vessel shakes his head like he’s quieting a voice in his head (because he is). “Look. Uhm. I finished my EP,” he tries to lighten the mood but his tone doesn’t match. He must have noticed how unenthusiastic he sounded because he does a little flourish with his hands and says “yeaaahhhh” only to sigh and rub his face as if he hated himself for that. 

“Well…wow! That’s…that’s great! You should be proud. Bet it sounds good. And I’m sure you worked hard...bet you’re glad to be done too! Or maybe not. Maybe you liked the process and…”

Nothing quite like having an earnest conversation with someone you passively don’t get along with to make you forget how to stop talking. As you blabber, Vessel wonders if this is what he’s like when he gets going. He stares a bit blankly, desperate for you to just…he puts his hand up. “Well, listen. Don’t go around spreading this but I’m having a little listening party this weekend.”

“Uh wwhhyyy can’t I say anything?”

He looks around conspiratorially and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Because not everyone here is cool enough to get invited. You know what I mean?”

You nod and salute. “Secret’s safe with me.”

“There we go. Good girl.”

You scoff with a laugh. “People keep calling me that.”

“Must be what you are, then. I’ll give you my address later. I need you to put some returns away. Off you pop.”

You roll your eyes and feel a little lighter. The next morning, you hop on chat to tell mothmansdad that he was right. You just needed to check in with Vessel. But before you can open the app, your phone buzzes. It’s just Vessel sending his address. Yeah, yeah. Go away! You open the chat with mothmansdad only to find that...you can't. No user found. The whole thread now just an error message. You poured your heart out to this stranger with no expectation of returning in kind. You felt heard. The evidence of the compassion you received now deleted without a trace...and a string of messages you’ll never see. Lost in the ether.

mothmansdad: you haunt every corner of my mind. how do you do that? how you've overtaken me is like possession. meditate on that, dove. mothmansdad: as if my tortured mind needs something else to ruminate over. mothmansdad: the thoughts I can manage. I can busy my mind and body in ways that push you away. that is until I remember the dreams. I cannot control the way you greet me there. the way you take me in. mothmansdad: your moans a call to prayer. how I wish to devour you. how I long to drink from your fount until devotion becomes hedonism. A mockery of communion.

[misguidedasgardian]

AMOR VINCINT OMNIA VI.

VI. Thesis

MASTERLIST

Summary: There was no such thing as settling 

Warnings: Use of she/her pronouns, reader has hair, Ancient Rome AU accuracies and inaccuracies, arranged marriages, age difference (Marcus is late forties reader is 20), cursing, we are shorter than Marcucs, reader is touch starved, depression, angst, reader is lonely, life threatening disease, gladiator fights, animal slaughtering for ritualistic purposes, MIGHT MISS SOME WARNINGS

Notes: Ufff another chapter of which i had scenes written before the prologue! uuhhh

“Ubi tu Gaius, Ego Gaia”, if she was acting, it was very convincing, you thought. As you looked at your mother and you could see, clear as day, the adoration lurking in her eyes.

Perhaps she did like him at least, he was a handsome man, his hair already painted a bit white though, but now you understood where Lucius got his looks. 

Speaking of Lucius, you felt his gaze on you, but you tried to ignore it.

His villa was the greatest and most lavish thing you have ever seen, tall walls and ample spaces, everywhere you looked there was gold, golden statues, marble pillars painted with gold, lavish pools with the most beautiful mosaics you had seen. 

A huge garden, where you stood now, the smell of various flowers hit your senses.

It was customary that the ceremony was done in your mother’s villa, in the Palatine HIll, but… this was her second marriage, and he was Consus Licinio Craso, so, things were… different, they differed from tradition altogether. . 

As you gazed on those who had gathered there, all of Rome, mostly, you were saddened to not see Publio, he had also left, his mission took him North, northern still across the sea to Britannia, even norther, to the border with Caledonia. 

You couldn’t wait for him to return to hear about his stories, you were sure they were going to be great. 

But now you were being drawn to the present by the squealing of the sacrificed pigs.

Why did you always find yourself witnessing that?

Three times in less than a year, including your own in your own wedding.

You took a long breath, the metallic smell of blood reaching even you, standing at the side.

Oh Marcus

He had been gone for four weeks, missed the whole betrothal and wedding, and signing of contracts and all. 

With your friend gone to really witness the “afters” of her wedding, you were really beginning to think it wasn’t a big deal to begin with, it was only a signed paper, which you could undo, so… the theatrical of it all started to bore you.

You stifled a whimper as you looked down in shame

You were becoming a cynic

You were becoming something dark, that you didn’t want to be

You wondered where that sweet girl was, the one who had woken up one morning happy that the sun was shining, and was optimistic about her future, about her arranged marriage, you wondered where she was.

You wondered what she’d think, to look at herself now, crying everyday, alone, so alone.

She’d be terrified of what the future held for her.

“Run”, you’d tell her, “get in a Trirreme for Alexandria, go live in a small farm in the edge of the Nile, raise goats or something, do not fall in love unless they fall in love with you first”

“FELICITER!”, everyone cheered and you had no choice but to pretend you had said it too, and to start clapping. 

As the lavish feast started, you stayed in the garden, trying not to gaze at Lucius with a beautiful young woman dangling from his strong arm. He had been betrothed, which had been a long time coming, you wondered how it didn’t happen sooner, and then you remembered he had been aiming for you for years.

Years

And it all had come to this, you thought as you gazed upon your mother and Consus, speaking inside with senators, he was your new stepfather, your paterfamilias, if you hadn't married Marcus first of course. 

Your mother relinquished all her rights on you to him, you were his, Marcus’ if you divorced him, you wouldn’t get nothing, you couldn’t be your own person, you’d be dependent on him even if you wanted to marry somebody else.

You should have said something when you knew, to protest, to question, but you trusted your mother and she trusted him, so…

It seemed like there was no way out for you. 

You took a seat in a stone bench by one of the fountains, letting the sun fall around you, leaving you in darkness. You’ve come to like the dark though, in this weeks,  it shielded you, you felt like you could put down your mask, especially in crowded events like this, you could stop pretending that everything was fine.

But nothing could be hidden from your mother, who took a seat right by your side.

“Your guests will miss the honored woman”, you mumbled

“They can wait”, she whispered. “How have you taken Marcus’ absence?”. she asked, and you cringed at the name, because she always called him Acacius, calling him by his first name would be an act of familiarity you thought only belonged to you.

“I’m fine”

“I’m glad”, she said, “Because I will be gone for a couple of months”, you looked back at her, alarmed. “We are going to Greece”, she whispered, with a soft smile and a strange shine in her eyes. “Consus fixed this Trirreme, with golden statues and luxury”, as she spoke, you were looking at her carefully, and you couldn’t believe that was your mother at all. You didn’t recognize her, you thought she didn’t care about all that. 

“For long?”, you asked

“Just a couple of months”, she whispered, she eyed you carefully, you nodded. Marcus’ departure had already left you heartbroken enough not to care much, and you had barely seen your mother since you married Marcus anyways.

They all leave

You wondered when Cecilia was going to come back from Sicily .

You missed her terribly. 

“I wish you have a great time, mother”, you whispered

“I’ll leave you to care for Rome”, she said as she would like you were a small child, you only nodded. she caressed the side of your face and your hair. “You have become a woman in this short months”, she admired, caressing your cheeks

Is misery the real barrier between a girl and a woman?

The night ended with little to less excitement for you.

And speaking of excitement…

The twin emperors of Rome were hosting their first games, in celebration of your mothers nuptials. It was set to be a great event, ten days filled with gladiator battles, performances of the greatest glories of Rome, for one, they were going to fill the Colosseum with water to reenact a naval battle.

It was going to be a great spectacle

And for the first time, your heart wasn’t in it.

As you sat there, next to your mother, watching the battles, the blood, the chariots that used to fill you with excitement, you felt little to nothing.

Maybe it was the line between girlhood or womanhood.

That nothing thrilled you anymore.

The spectacle was great, showcasing Rome’s might that still lingered after all the efforts of your grandfather. 

It was still bittersweet. 

You had been raised with whispers of the power and might of the blood that flowed through your veins and yet here you stood, alone, at this point you truly believed you were going to be alone forever.

As you were married now, seemed like you had turned invisible, the men that used to smile and you and talked to you barely gazed upon you, and well, their wives would draw small talk from you, but not completely engaging as your mother and you always kept a close circle, now you knew why, because of the emperors, but still, that meant you had few friends. 

So as everyone was watching the spectacle of gladiators killing each other, you looked at the people, all of them in the pulvinus, to those closest to it. All with wide smiles but your mother, her disgust for blood hidden in the small branches of lavender tangled around her fingers. 

“My sweet, you should come with us”, she offered after the spectacle was over, you looked at her expectantly, “you should come stay with us, in Consus’ villa”, she explained, grabbing onto your forearm, you just watched her silently, then, behind her in the pulvinus, you saw lucius, looking at you with a look that was hard to define 

“I prefer to retrieve myself to the comfort of my home”, you said quickly, you grabbed onto your mother’s hand and squeezed, “I’ll see you soon, mother”. 

You made sure to not come back to the Colosseum for the rest of the game, claiming you were feeling a bit unwell.

You missed what the entire city called the greatest fight they had ever seen. As regards the flooding and the boats included. 

But you had other things to occupy your mind. 

You had hired three painters, who were now drawing very graphic pictures of battles, myths across the walls of the triclinium and atrium, and then some more erotic scenes near your personal rooms and the bath room. 

With the height of spring on you it seemed like the most logical place to start, with arts, as you grew your garden slowly. 

You realize you found solace and contentment while making your villa a home, making it more beautiful, more lively, as if Marcus was not going to give you a family, at least you could spend the money on fixing your surroundings. 

He told you could do it anyways.

You had bought tapestries from Greece, as beautiful amphoras for the oils and grains, beautifully carved wood furniture from Nubia, the finest cottons you had seen from Alexandria, and you had made tunics for you, Thulia and Diana for the coming summer. 

From Alexandria you also had purchased scrolls, with ancient tales of Egypt and Carthage, they were all in Greek, but… you knew how to read it thankfully. 

You didn't even feel guilty when you bought yourself some nice jewelry. a beautiful bracelet of a snake slithering around your forearm.

You used to look at the Roman Eagle with admiration, owls seeking for wisdom and the mythical animal that had fed Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome itself, the wolves, with reverence.

But as you gazed on that golden snake you’d realise, It had its own qualities, it was sneaky, slithering about on the tall grass, quiet, with the ability of changing its skin, being born again as it were. You wore it everyday now. 

You received missives from your mother who was travelling through the islands of Greece, and you would enjoy her tales of beautiful sights. 

And you were not going to lie, for when you found yourself alone, in your cold room at night, you felt incredible jealousy.

That ship had been built for Lucius and you, he had said so himself, and yet, you laid there, alone, and your mother was aboard it, with her new husband that would take her with him in his journeys.

You didn’t care about the gold, about the boat, about the golden coins, but, you did care about… well… about being married to someone who actually wanted you.

With tumultuous thoughts and dark dreams you managed to actually wake up when the sun was on the horizon. 

And the days, turned to weeks, turned to a couple of months…. 

“I do not think this is a good idea”, you said, stifling a giggle, when you saw the work

 You were correcting one of the painters, who had drained one of the impluvium and was installing a beautiful mosaic 

“I did this to your image, domina”. the man explained, oh yes, he had immortalized you in tiny pieces of beautifully colored stones, the problem was that you were naked, and it was clearly you. “Nobody would tell”, he said lightly, “it’ll be a secret between you and me”, you only shook your head and let him keep to it. 

“Put more jasmines and laurels around it though, it might distract those who gaze upon it o the likeness to me”, you jested, and he chuckled, shaking his head but was determined to please you.

But again, as you started to find some kind of rhythm to your life… someone came and disrupted it.

You heard a commotion outside your villa’s gates, horses neighing, voices shouting, people complaining.

“A legionnaire had never crossed Roman’s gates in the last hundred years”, someone shouted, and if you weren’t in the atrium itself, you wouldn’t have heard any of it.  

And from a second to the nest, both the thick wooden doors of your home opened widely, you jumped where you stood as you truly believed they were going to kill you or something, but no.

“What’s wrong?”, you asked, alarmed, as the atrium, from one moment to the next, was filled with legionnaires, and medicus. Four soldiers carried Marcus himself who laid in a grabatum

It had happened quickly, you had received news from your husband himself that himself as his army had managed to cross the Mediterranean and reached Tarraco, a port in Hispania, and everything went well.

The letter was very formal, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

And now this… two months after

“The General has fallen ill my lady”, Quintus, his right hand man said, placing his arm across his chest in sign of respect towards you

“Is he going to be alright?”, you asked, concerned, you followed the soldiers to Marcus’ rooms, you reached it just when he was being placed gently in his bed

“The General started feeling unwell after we reached Tarraco”, he said, “he refused treatment, and the idea of returning, but three days ago, we had to put him in the first Trirreme back to Rome my lady, he caught a fever in the journey”

“Nobody cared for him in Terraco?”, you asked him, anger started bubbling inside of you

“We… couldn’t trust anybody with the health of the general”, he said carefully, you nodded, your eyes returning to his shaky form on the bed

“We had not managed to break the fever”, said a medicus, that wore some reduced version of the armor, he must have been the one who went with them to treat their wounds…. battle wounds

When you saw your husband there, his forehead sweaty and heavy breathing, is like everything your mother ever thought you came back to you.

You grabbed Diana who was passing by the arm a bit rougher, but this was not the time for pleasantries

“Go to the market, NOW, bring me ginger, chamomile and coriander if you find it”

“Yes Domina”, she said quickly, and ran to fulfill your command, understanding the emergency.

“Thulia!”, you called, and she was by your side in a minute, “bring me a bucket of fresh water, and some linens”, you commanded, she nodded and went quickly

“My lady…”, called the medicus with warning

“I know what I’m doing”, you said firmly.

Since the fresh water and linens arrived first, you wasted no time in sitting by Marcus’ side on the bed, you grabbed the linens, soaked them in water, and placed them all over his trembling body

“We tried that already”, said the old man impatiently

“So we gotta keep trying”, you insisted. You needed to lower his body temperature somehow. Diana came running back, giving you the herbs as she took deep accelerated breaths.

“Thank you”, you said, “the mortar”, you called, and for the first time alone, you prepared the tonic your mother had taught you to use for this sort of cases. 

Once ready, you ran to his side, grabbed the back of his head, made him lean in, and you made him drink your concoction. He frowned and fought it, even in his condition, the thing had a strong smell, and a strong taste as well, but you managed to slide it down his throat, and that is what mattered. 

And you dedicate yourself to care for your husband

Fear took a tight grip on you, was he going to die? The bare thought brought tears to your eyes. He was your husband, your mother’s dearest friend and ally, yes he wasn’t caring, but not because of it you wanted him to die.

You had prayed on your home’s altar for his safety, for his health and for his victories, clearly, you had not been heard. 

Hours passed by and you were stuck to his side, changing the rags over his foreheads. You took the liberty of raising his toga, touching his body. it was so odd, the first you had looked upon his naked legs, his intimacy only covered by his subligaria, and yet you did not wasted time to gaze, you touched his belly, and not only you found it hard, by his years of battle and training, but warm, unnaturally warm. 

You took a long breath feeling the air around you, the spring had made sure to warm the land so you wouldn't be traumatizing his body to much lower temperatures. You grabbed a wet rag and placed it on his belly.

He shuddered, but you needed to lower his temperature

And you had tried everything, now it all depended on him, and on the gods. You realised it was already the middle of the night by the time you ended your care. 

He was still burning, but you wanted to believe that he had lowered his temperature somehow. 

You didn’t even notice how everyone left you alone with him, but you didn’t care, as you tried to care for him as much as you could, with everything your mother had taught you. Many had called her a sorceress, accused her of poisoning men like your own uncle, but they didn’t understand. Not really. 

As sleep overtook you, you fell asleep on top of him, clinging onto him, hoping your body temperature would help to lower his. 

.

“You have to eat something domina”, Diana said softly, you nodded, waking up slowly, still hugging Marcus against you. But you separated from him, grabbing little fruit, bread and cheese that she was offering. You grabbed the pitch of water and tried to give it to Marcus, to your relief, he did drink something.

“Bring me more rags, more water”, you said, and Thulia was the one to bring those things to you. “Fetch the medicus”, you asked of them, and both went to find him their separate ways to make it faster. 

You grabbed a bowl and a rag, ready to start your care again for the morning, when he seemed to stir on his sleep. You watched him carefully, but he didn’t open his eyes, but he did open his mouth…

“Lucilla…”, you froze with the damped cloth in your hand, paralyzed, “... my love”, he whispered.

“Marcus?”, you called, but he was deep in lethargy, his eyes closed and his forehead frowned in anguish

“I love you… Lucilla”, he whined. “But I won't…anymore”

Your heart broke in a million pieces, just like the clay bowl you had in your hands that you dropped and fell to the floor. 

So he did prefer women to men, only that the woman he preferred was your mother. It was horrible the way everything seemed to fall into place. Now you understood so many things you wished you never understood. 

“Gods”, you whispered brokenly.

Luckily, the medicus entered the room.

“You have done great domina, he has almost returned to himself!”, he said, relieved, taking your palace by his side, “you should rest, my lady”, he said softly. 

You only nodded, leaving them alone, you walked the now beautiful corridors back to your own room, as tears fell uncontrollably down your cheeks. 

PCN: uuhh did you saw that coming?

I have re-ratched gladiator I and Lucilla seemed to now a thing or two about tonics, so I wanted to deepen into that.

taglist! @orcasoul @peelieblue @raynetargaryan2 @thereallchristine @sesdeuxyeux @melsunshine @thelastemzy @vjuvbbjugv @cloudroomblog @capycapy-bara @lokiwife2021 @whirlwindrider29 @peepawispunk @syd-maximoff @ayoungpascallover

[wolveria]

The Raven's Hymn - Ch 55 (Final)

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: “So… We… the both of us, we’re… okay?”

AO3

Spotify

Domesticity was an experience absent since childhood. But now, the floors were swept, the cobwebs removed, the small cabin filled with warmth and the scent of the old pine planks that made up its interior.

Child’s laughter echoed from outside, though she wasn’t really a child, and the creature that followed her wasn’t a pony, even if it was a comparable size. But from a distance, framed in winter blue and white, they could be mistaken as such.

Absently, you rolled the dough into an elongated shape, your attempt at what was eventually going to be cinnamon buns. You weren’t any better at baking than you were at cooking, but you’d had time to try and learn. You’d had nothing but time lately, and boredom was a precursor to wandering thoughts, and wandering thoughts were the enemy of memories best left forgotten.

And there was so much you wanted to forget.

You’d made a promise that if Leahy hurt Valens, you would burn Site-20 to the ground, and you kept that promise.

But what came after? What did you do now that your every move wasn’t watched, and you weren’t subjected to the whims of an increasingly desperate Site Director?

You hadn’t realized it until you’d had weeks to reflect, the leaves turning from autumn gold and orange to barren, dead brown. Leahy had been desperate, and in his desperation he’d done extreme things. So had you. And those were the things you didn’t want to think about.

And Valens…

Without the barriers between you, no cameras to watch and no guards to pull you apart, you’d thought… Well, you didn’t know what you’d thought. That Valens would embrace you at the first opportunity? Carry you off to bed like his newly-sworn bride and make you his?

It had been a fantasy, and you were to old and worn for those. Of course he would keep a polite distance, shying away if you stood too close. Of course he would give the only bed to you and the girl. Of course he would provide you with everything you needed, food and clothes and even kerosene for the generator, all from his anomalous bag.

He gave you what you needed, but not what you wanted. And you understood. You’d both been forced to use each other at the Foundation’s behest. Neither of you would have gotten into that bed if it wasn’t at metaphorical gunpoint.

But the shower… the shower had been different. The way he’d touched your skin, caressed you as if you were precious, pinning you to the wall and fucking you as if he wanted to take those precious parts of you and shatter them beneath his hands—

Sharp pain bit your thumb, and you dropped the knife with a clatter. In the middle of slicing the tube into rolls, you’d nearly taken off your finger in the process, blood welling from the slash at the base of your thumb.

You rushed to the sink and turned on the faucet, waiting for the sputtering water to run smoothly before you pushed your hand under the flow. There was some relief at the ice-cold water numbing the slice, but blood continued to leak from the wound no matter how tightly you gripped your wrist.

“Shit,” you hissed under your breath. What if it didn’t stop bleeding and you needed to go to the emergency room? You didn’t actually know where the closest town was, and besides that, you didn’t have any transportation—

Warmth pressed against your back as arms enveloped you from both sides. You froze, stiff as a board, as his hands gently took yours, removing them from under the faucet and turning your injured hand upward so he could see the wound clearly.

You didn’t move an inch, barely breathed as he examined you, your mind a fuzzy static as blank as the winter landscape outside. Those… claws. Every time you saw them, at his delicate hands and the points where the curved nails ended, you found yourself staring. And every time, he caught you, immediately turning away and hiding them from sight.

But he didn’t hide them now, instead focusing on your hands, small and fragile between his larger, steadier ones.

“You will need stitches,” he said, his low voice vibrating in a rumble along your back. “Come.”

You didn’t have much choice as he gently took you by the shoulders, guiding you to one of the wooden hand-carved dining chairs, and you half-sat, half-fell into it. Cradling your hand, you watched Valens move across the room to pick up his bag, bring it to the dining table, and set it down.

Voice still trapped in your throat, you didn’t speak as he removed a small vial of clear liquid, as well as a needle and thread and a roll of bandages.

And when you thought you might have regained enough wits to speak, he knelt at your feet and gently took your hand, again examining the wound, so careful as his blunted claws hovered over your skin. After a moment, he let you go and uncapped the vial, spreading some of the liquid on a piece of cloth and carefully dabbing it over the wound. Instantly, most of your hand went numb, and the burning pain vanished.

As he focused on weaving the thread through the needle, you finally found your will to speak.

“How did you know I hurt myself?”

You’d been alone in the cabin as far as you knew, Valens disappearing outside as he sometimes did, though with the way he moved like a ghost, you wouldn’t have known if he returned.

He took your hand and placed it palm up on your thigh, a cloth placed under it to catch the still-leaking blood. He wiped it clean, and then pinched the wound closed as he aimed the needle. You looked away.

“I could smell your blood.”

You swallowed but all the saliva was gone. He hadn’t said, “I could smell the blood,” he had said, “I could smell your blood.” The distinction mattered to you, but you couldn’t explain why.

Watching the needle pierce your skin would make you even more woozy than the blood already had, so you stared out the window at the snow-blanketed trees. It helped with the lightheadedness almost instantly, and you felt a little foolish. With how much blood you’d spilt yourself, getting faint at the sight of it felt hypocritical.

“I wasn’t paying attention,” you offered, even though he didn’t ask. Your voice was tight with embarrassment, and the laugh you gave sounded like it was made of plastic. “Stupid, I know. Especially when I could pull a batch straight out of Cinnabon right from your bag. I just… I don’t know…”

You trailed off, and he didn’t interrupt or fill in the blanks. Valens had always been a great listener, but right now, you wished he’d do more of the talking. He hadn’t done much of that since the breach, and you didn’t know what was going through his head. Only that he was too quiet, too careful with you and the girl, usually wearing oven mitts or garden gloves to cover his newly formed claws.

You could feel it happening, see how withdrawn he’d become. He was slipping away, and you didn’t know how to stop it.

You pressed your lips firmly together, swallowed down the ache in your throat, and waited until he was done stitching your wound, and you knew when that time arrived when he placed a fresh pad over your hand and wrapped it in bandages.

“It would be best to leave that covered for two days. I will change the bandage tonight.”

You nodded silently but didn’t look at him, and he didn’t move from his position on the floor. It was difficult to tell with half your hand numb, but you thought you felt the delicate pressure of him cradling it.

“Reid?”

The name was so strange to hear from that soft, metallic voice. Not Doctor or my assistant or even dear one. Just you. Just Reid.

“Do you want to be here?” you asked. The question fled like it had staged its own containment breached, and you regretted its escape.

“…Pardon?”

“If there’s somewhere else you’d rather be, I understand. 682 and 053 will be fine with me. We just need enough supplies to survive the winter, then we can move on. And you can… can get your life back before the Foundation interrupted it.”

Silence stretched between you. You wanted to scream to break it.

Say something!

But he didn’t. He remained perfectly still, perfectly quiet, and in that silence your heart started to crack.

Finally, he spoke, but his words brought no comfort.

“Is this… what you want?”

You still refused to look at him, focused on the window over the sink bright with winter light, clinging to its view of the outside like a lifeline.

“It’s not about what I want.” Your throat ached so much your words were thick with it. “You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t deserve it. Any of it.”

Any of it. Including you.

The stillness of the room lasted only a moment before Valens regained his feet. He went to the front door, which was left partially open so you could listen to 053 play outside, and he firmly shut it.

And then he walked back to you, his pale eyes hard, focused, and you were like a deer in the headlights as he pulled you up from the chair. Your mouth fell open in shock, your body pliant with surprise as he maneuvered you back against the counter. With a sweep of his hand, he cleared the counter of the ruined attempt of cinnamon buns, ignoring the clatter as it fell to the floor.

Valens lifted you onto the counter without warning and slotted between your legs. As if unsatisfied with the small space left between you, he pulled you flat against his body, his hips flushed to yours, the clawed ends of his fingers pressed into the outside of your thighs.

His specter-grey eyes, eyes you’d noticed held a hint of blue if the sun caught it just right, stared directly into you in a way no one else ever could.

“If you bid me go, I will go. But until that time comes—”

His claws dug in a little deeper, a reflex not meant to hurt but unknowingly revealing what you’d missed. In the weeks that had passed without touch or closeness or comfort, he’d been denying himself, too.

“—I will remain. Right here.”

With his claws, he pulled you tight against him. Wanting, possessive, needful. And you finally broke.

Fingers clumsy with haste, you shoved down your jeans and underwear as far as they would go, which was about to your knees before Valens let out a soft snarl and spread your thighs wider. For a moment, you were afraid he was going to leave when he backed away, but then he slipped his hand between your legs.

His fingers deftly stroked your slick heat, and you were wound so tight you nearly sobbed. Trying in vain to open your legs wider, caught within the confines of your tangled pants, you reached down to the apex of his legs where you knew his inner sheath was hidden.

But Valens grasped you by the wrist and gently pulled you away, his eyes hazy with lust but a small amount of regret too.

“The girl and reptile are in the forest, but they will be back soon.”

You tried to focus on his face and the words, but his forefinger had found your clit and stroked it in slow, torturous caresses. His other hand wove through your hair, his fingertips grazing your scalp, as if after weeks of being only able to watch he couldn’t stop touching you.

He leaned closer, his gaze growing dark.

“And when I finally have you, I will take my time.”

Valens pressed his finger in hard, the teasing stroke becoming one of demand, and you buried your face in his shoulder as you cried out. Your hands wrapped around his back, your legs trying to catch his hips as you desperately wanted his fingers to breach you, and he knew exactly what you were doing.

“I will hurt you,” he strained through the teeth hidden behind his mask.

“I don’t care.”

He groaned in frustration, but not surprise. He knew you, your stubbornness and will, how you didn’t let anything go until you were damn well ready.

But he was at least careful as he slipped a gentle finger in you, and then two when your clenching walls greedily demanded more. He curled his fingers just enough for the blunted points to press something inside you, and you shuddered and whimpered at the strange, delicious pressure.

But he didn’t thrust his fingers inside you, knowing it would scratch your delicate, velvety walls, so he instead stroked and rubbed your clit with the pad of his thumb.

It was good, really good, and your legs trembled as the rubber band in your gut slowly tightened. But something was still missing, and with Valens buried up to his knuckles in your cunt, you figured he was busy enough to let you do this one thing.

With your good hand, your palm returned to the front of his pelvis and pressed down, easily finding the slit that was the opening to his sheath. You spread it open with your fingers, and all you had to do was stroke the inner lip before his phallus pushed from the sheath, practically jumping into your hand as if starving for the attention.

Valens growled next to your ear, a warning you happily ignored, gliding the slick cock across your palm and squeezing it before stroking up and down the shaft. Its inhuman shape pulsed in your hand, and the next noise he made was more groan than growl, his hips twitching involuntarily.

He still kept his fingers curled but stubbornly immobile inside your cunt, though his thumb rubbed you without mercy, the movements slippery with the excess of his soaked hand. And with his other, Valens did the unexpected; he slipped his hand under your sweater, lightly raked his claws up your skin, and groped your breast. With a purpose that conveyed he knew exactly what he was doing, he squeezed your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Your back arched as if he’d shocked you with a live wire, your walls tight around his fingers, and you stroked and squeezed him almost angrily, as if in revenge for not being buried in you right now.

And it was with that image, imagining him removing his fingers and moving those last few inches to thrust his cock into your desperate, aching cunt that finally pushed you over the edge. Your face buried in his neck, you wailed, clenching around his fingers as your rhythm around his cock faltered, your pattern sporadic and trembling, very similar to how your cunt squeezed him in shuddering bursts.

You breathed out a word, a name, a prayer that only he could hear.

“Valens.”

A snarl ripped through him and his earlier inhibitions forgotten as he thrust in your hand, his claws digging into your breast hard enough it would leave bruises, and then he gave one final jerk of his hips. His cock pulsed hot and hard in your hand, ropes of cum splashing the inside of your bare thighs and the counter beneath you.

Slowly, bit by bit, you relaxed your iron grip on him. Though your injured hand ached, the numbness having faded some time ago, your good hand continued to gently stroke him, milking him for every drop until he shuddered and gave a broken moan at the overstimulation. God, what you wouldn’t give to hear more noises like that out of him.

Valens broke away first, slipping his hand out of your cunt and then out of your sweater, the former drenched and dripping. His skin was darker when wet, almost black, and his claws gleamed as they caught the light.

In a move that lacked any sort of coherence, you grabbed his soaked hand and stuck the two fingers that had been inside your cunt into your mouth. Valens’ hand twitched but he kept his fingers perfectly still as your tongue laved over them, unafraid as you pressed the flat of your tongue against the claw tips.

He bit off some heated phrase in French, but his other hand was gentle as he stroked your naked hip.

“A man could have the patience of a saint, and you would still have the power to drive him to madness.”

You sucked his fingers noisily and greedily as you at last drew them from your mouth, all quite on purpose.

“You’re the one who put me on this counter. You get to deal with the consequences.”

His chuckle low and warm, some of the light returned to his eyes, previously absent as the days had grown shorter and colder. You had missed it so much that its return felt like the sun shining only for you.

Without speaking but the warmth remaining in his gaze, Valens dampened a washcloth and cleaned the mess he’d left on your thighs and the counter, and then he folded it over onto the clean side and pressed it between your legs. You might have taken it as an innocent gesture meant to clean you if not for the focused hunger in his gaze. The lion who had finished his meal and wanted seconds.

And you, weak and aching under that gaze, wrapped your arms around him and pressed your lips to his mask, over his beak and over the cheekbones and on to the place where his mouth would be if not for the chitinous barrier.

His body shuddered and pressed deliciously against yours, proof that you weren’t the only one who ached for a comforting touch, but then he went still. A few seconds later, you heard squealing laughter echoing off the trees.

You sighed and released him, and Valens conveyed his silent apology and regret as he finished cleaning you. Once that was done, instead of letting you hop down, he took you by the hips and set you on the ground, his claws careful as they tugged up your jeans. You pulled them on the rest of the way, making sure everything was in place before you looked up at him, resting the palm of your good hand against his chest.

He didn’t retreat or flinch away as he’d done since your arrival to the cabin, and you took it as a promising sign. A very promising sign.

“So…” Your fingers toyed with the faint wrinkles of fabric across his sternum. “We… the both of us, we’re… okay?”

A hand came up to lay across your restless fingers, holding them steady and close.

“We are. We have always been. And I apologize for making you feel otherwise. I… deeply miscalculated what I believed to be your wishes. Clearly.”

His eyes twinkled with humor, and you smiled. It had been so long since you’d smiled, you were surprised the gesture was so easy.

Not a moment later, the door burst open and a flurry of snow entered, followed by a girl coated in white, sitting astride the back of a large reptilian figure.

053 grinned at you, nearly eye-level with you from the back of 682, and she gave an enthusiastic wave. Seeing you stand so close together, your hand on Valens’ chest with his own covering it, 682 gave an eyeroll and a disgusted snort.

With that, he stalked to the couch and shook his coat, purposefully making 053 fall off his back and directly onto the padded cushions. She cackled with delight, but you winced. If dropped from the same height, you’d have a smarting shoulder and an aching hip.

“Careful,” you mumbled, and 682 just gave you a lethal side eye.

“You should open some windows.” And then he added pointedly, “It stinks in here.”

Mortified, cheeks on fire, you went to the window over the sink and opened it wide. The clean scent of pine, oak, and snow washed over your face, cooling your overheated skin.

The chill of winter was kept at bay from the warmth that pressed against your back, the arms that wrapped around your waist, and the nudge of a beak, affectionate against your jaw.

You didn’t know how long you would be able to remain here, hidden from the panopticon lens of the Foundation. But for now, you were safe, and warm, and free. And loved.

It was good. It was enough.

[pascals-doll]

—★ GATÚBELA

╰┈─➤ IN WHICH ELLIE GOES TO A PARTY AND FELL IN LOVE WITH A MYSTERIOUS GIRL.

—★ READER INFO

LOYAL, FIERCE, AND ALLURING

─◌✰್ READER’S MOODBOARD

you were always sticking to what you knew, cautious of change which always created inner-conflict for yourself which is probably how you ended up in this situation. you found yourself with a cheating boyfriend and it just takes one night for your bestfriend!dina to take you out to reggaeton party, bumping you into the perfect stranger.

early 20s reader! reader is latina!, no specific-latina ethnicity identified just race (very little is written around certain mexican culture/heritage!!), mentions of tan skin-tone, references to latina beauty, tatted!reader, reader speaks spanish!!, mentions of catholic/hispanic religion, reader wears alot of bold eye makeup/cateye makeup, references to being like catwoman/ a femme fatale, reader wears la virgen/statement hispanic gold jewelry/medallions.

—★ ELLIE WILLIAMS INFO

TOUGH, PLAYFUL, AND EASYGOING

─◌✰್ ELLIE’S MOODBOARD

one night ellie is coerced by her bestfriend!jesse into going to a house party his friend was dj-ing. ellie was usually always away from the riled up crowds, smoking, mindlessly flirting with some girl if she got lucky while her bestfriend had some girl shaking it on him. jesse must’ve dragged ellie to just the perfect party, a reggaetón party where ellie isn’t in the back anymore.

early 20s!ellie, masculine!ellie, tatted!ellie, ellie learns about latino heritage/spanish, ellie having admiration for reader’s ethnic beauty!

—★ SERIES MASTERLIST

🫧 description: MODERN AU! SMUT/SUGGESTIVE CONTENT IN CHAPTERS, FLUFF, MENTIONS OF TOXIC EX RELATIONSHIP, IDENTIFICATION OF SEXUALITY , PARTYING, DRINKING, SMOKING MARIJUANA, VIOLENCE IN CERTAIN CHAPTER, SLIGHT MENTION OF BLOOD IN CERTAIN CHAPTER, INTENSE THEMES, ANGST, TALK ABOUT HOMOPHOBIA IN HISPANIC FAMILIES IN CERTAIN CHAPTERS.

🫧 LATINAS FOR ELLIE WILLIAMS RISE

🫧 THIS MY FIRST SERIES!!! PLEASE BE KIND AND I HOPE YALL ENJOY 🩵

🫧 this story has a whole ass playlist tbh on my spotify so i only put a tracklist so you could get a vibe of the storyline!

—🎧📼 MIXTAPE | GATUBELA -KAROL G ELLA ME LEVANTO -DADDY YANKEE 8 AM —YOUNG MIKO CLASSY 101 - YOUNG MIKO CONTIGO - KAROL G TE AMO -RIHANNA FINA- YOUNG MIKO Y BAD BUNNY DISPO-KAROL G Y YOUNG MIKO AGOURA HILLS -DOJA CAT OYE MI AMOR -MANÀ LES-CHILDISH GAMBINO LAND OF THE SNAKES- J.COLE MOONLIGHT -KALI UCHIS \\AGUARDIENTE Y LÍMON %ᵕ‿‿ᵕ% -KALI UCHIS

🎀CHAPTER ONE: GATÚBELA

🎀CHAPTER TWO: CONVENIENCE STORE

🎀CHAPTER THREE: DISPO

🎀CHAPTER FOUR: AGORA HILLS

🎀CHAPTER FIVE: coming soon…

© copy right claims to pascals-doll | do not try to copy/steal my series publishings in any shape or form. do not claim my work as yours.

[matts-girlfriend]

It’s You I Welcome Death With- Chris Sturniolo

TattooArtist!Chris and MakeupArtist!Reader

chapter 1

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

warning this series will contain, substance abuse, angst, arguing,tension,swearing, mentions of absent family, blood, abuse (not from chris). smut, oral, this is a warning for all chapters.

The shop smelled like burnt ink and old smoke.

The kind of place where the walls held secrets and the floorboards remembered every heavy footstep and whispered promise. “Death Before Dishonor” was stenciled in cursive across the back wall, blood red and faded like it had something to prove.

Chris was leaned back in the cracked leather chair, legs spread, blunt between his fingers like it was born there. Smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling, catching on the gold chain around his neck, the one that shimmered when he tilted his head just right. There was a girl draped over his lap, laughing at something he didn’t even say.

Typical.

“You said you’d be ready at five,” came a voice from the front counter—low, annoyed, and unmistakably Nick’s. Chris barely looked up.

“It’s five…ish,” Chris muttered, tapping ash into the tray balanced on the armrest. “Besides, Matt’s not even back yet.”

As if on cue, Matt strolled in with a box of pizza in one hand and his phone in the other. “Traffic’s hell,” he offered, sliding the box onto the counter. “Also, that girl from the bakery said hi.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Which one?”

Matt grinned. “Exactly.”

Chris chuckled, voice rough from the smoke. He looked good in that dangerous, disinterested way—dark eyes half-lidded, tattoos spilling from the collar of his shirt like they couldn’t wait to be seen. But he was already bored. Already over whatever girl was clinging to him like she hadn’t already been replaced in his mind.

And that’s when you walked in.

You—makeup bag in hand, black boots hitting the floor. You looked like you belonged somewhere else—maybe a red carpet, maybe a rooftop party where everyone knew your name—but you stood in that gritty tattoo shop like it was your stage.

Chris blinked. Once.

The girl on his lap said something. He didn’t hear it.

You didn’t even spare him a glance. Your eyes found Nick instead.

“Hey, I’m here for the shoot prep,” you said, voice soft like you didn't just walk in with a "I know i'm better then everyone" attitude. “The agency said you needed someone last-minute.”

Nick straightened, visibly relieved. “Yeah, thanks for coming. That was fast.”

“I don’t do late,” you said, brushing hair out of your face, all confidence and zero apology. “Where’s the client?”

“That’d be him,” Nick said, nodding toward the back.

Chris exhaled slowly, letting the smoke trail from his lips as his eyes finally met yours.

“Well,” he said, voice low and amused. “Aren’t you a little overdressed for this side of town?”

You tilted your head, expression unreadable. “Aren’t you a little too high to be getting your picture taken?”

Matt choked on his soda.

Nick looked like he wanted to crawl into the nearest supply cabinet.

Chris? He laughed. Loud and real.

And for the first time in a while, he sat up straight.

You weren’t like the others.

And maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t be able to charm his way out of this one.

a/n: I’m actually so excited to drop the whole plot. I got bored last night and finished almost the whole story.

taglist: @courta13 @m4gz-png @lezleeferguson-120

@h3arts4nat @izzylovesmatt @sturnioliolo @hsemeria @sturniqloo

@venusbabysblog @chrisslut04 @crazy4weeed @chriscokewhore @chrisswaffles @urfavvvnyasee @sturnzluv @freshluvr @mattthemunchh @poolover123 @pleasantdelusionbear @carpentersturns @emosexyvirgin @emillionaireee @shamelessmilkshakefest @xoxochrissgf @sturniolodollx @joyfulheartwhispers @cutseylady @oopsiedaisydeer @steph1106

@laylaluvsu2000 @lvrsturniolo @chloe444 @yamommmasman @55sturn @whenlovesaround @luvs-booksss @vampyyluv

(dividers by @bernardsbendystraws)

[obsidianpen]

Once B&G is finished, would you publish it as a book? I know there’s some protocol about publishing fanfics, but I still wanted to ask. This story blew my mind in and out again. Made me go into mental breakdown and back to the reality. It’s crazy how beautifully it’s written, especially now that chapter 75 is out. The plot! Oh god pure masterpiece. You’ve left me speechless. I’ve been reading this fanfic for years now. This amazing story changed my book taste forever. I love it, I love every bit of it. ❤️ you are really a talented writer, and I know I’ve said it before but it’s absolutely beautiful, the plot, the characters, the psychology in it! Pure perfection. Thank you for writing this, this story is living rent free in my mind every single day. I just wanted to say thank you, for creating this masterpiece, for sharing it with the world. And if you ever decided to publish, I wouldn’t care if I had to pay 20, 30 or even 50€ just to have this in my home, because the time and dedication you’ve put into this is absolutely incredible.

let’s be very very VERY clear here: binding and selling fanfiction is illegal, full stop. I know that some morons sell bound fanfic on TikTok and Etsy, but when you see that, you should report tf out of it. Harass the seller. They are selling something illegal. They are profiting off a work that they didn’t even write, that they did not have the writer’s permission to do (and have gone against the writer’s wishes in the first place). Doing this can and will come back on the writer in the fanfiction, who put it out there for FREE, purely out of love. This is going to fucking ruin fanfiction for everyone if it doesn’t stop. Report, report, report.

that being said. I’m working on original stuff, and when B&G is over plan to focus a lot of my second draft of one of those. As for Blood and Gold, if you want a bound copy of it on your shelf, you can still do that! You can bind it yourself, or you can do some kind of exchange with someone else who binds. NO MONEY CAN BE MADE BY ANYONE, but I’ve seen plenty of gift exchanges with people who bind fanfic, and I think that’s lovely. So there are ways to do it - you just can’t buy it. Fanfiction is a gift, a beautiful, wonderful gift. Let’s keep it that way.

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 20

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- Hope you’re ready for sad Remy hours. 💔 Like and rb please! It makes me so happy seeing y’all’s comments even if I’m stressing y’all tf out lol. Love you all! Tune in next Thursday for the next chapter!

Remy’s POV

The last thing I remember is shattered glass, inflated airbags, and a loud car alarm. A faint memory of a man reaching through my once tinted window with a phone to his ear clashed with visions of blood all over me. I could smell and taste it, bringing a hand to my nose and lips. When I looked down at my fingertips there was blood, so much blood. The sight of glass shards clinging to my skin where they dug in made me lightheaded, as I leaned my head back into the headrest and allowed my eyes to close. The last thing I laid my eyes on before waking up here was the crumpled up metal hood on the rental.

Now I was sitting up on two very flat pillows stacked together, and occasionally staring at the bright hospital ceiling lights, counting each tile between them. My nurse, Mrs. Parker, was very attentive, helping me do things I couldn’t do with one hand, and keeping me pumped with drugs. I don’t know what’s worse. The body pain or the dwindling anesthesia leaving my arm.

I was trying to keep down some lime flavored jello, when she came in with an extra blanket for me. It was warm, like it had just come out of the dryer. “Here you go, dear.” She extended it over my body, throwing it up in the air so it falls down, layering over the other blankets.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” I smiled faintly, licking jello off a plastic spoon.

“You’re getting discharged tomorrow. Is anybody picking you up?” She waited for me to finish my jello cup so she could thrown it in the trash.

I shook my head, “I have to uber to the airport. I’m checking flights today.”

She looked a bit troubled, frowning slightly. “Do you at least have a change of clothes?”

“What’s wrong with the clothes I had on before?” I tilt my head.

“They’re-“ she stopped herself, taking the empty cup from me. “-Not clean, my dear. There’s… blood from the accident.”

I nodded, touching the bandage covering the gash on my forehead. “I didn’t know it was that much blood.”

She fluffed the pillows under my back, “Did your momma ever come see you after I went home yesterday?” She asked. After waking up a couple days ago, she told me my mother would be on her way to see me. I assumed they’d contacted her while I was still under.

“No… She called me though. I told her not to come, that it’s too far of a drive.” I lied, knowing she called me only to fill her quota. Only to comply with the unwritten rule that if a family member is in the hospital, you have to at least check in. She hadn’t offered to come see me.

Nurse Parker gave me my morning antibiotics, then left the room without showing that signature smile I had seen every day since I woke up from surgery.

Two nights ago is when I woke up from surgery. A full blown panic attack as I came off the sedatives welcomed me into my hospital room. Mrs. Parker did her best to calm me down. I had very little recollection of the accident, or what happened after I got hit.

I had somewhat of a blurry image that slowly came to mind like a puzzle solving itself. It might’ve been one of those weird visions during surgeries you hear about in books, about your body coming out of itself in a birds eye view. Or maybe just a dream I had before waking up. The image was of a girl with dark hair and light complexion, with familiar facial structure. I was almost 100% it was Billie, but it could’ve been another nurse taking care of me. Her demeanor was sweet and careful, a protective energy enveloped my unconscious mind. It felt like the color gold, warm and mellow.

I knew it was just a mere hallucination. If Billie had really been here, she’d be here, still. She would’ve waited until I woke up, and I’d probably be having to convince her— force her to leave and tend to her tour.

How fucked up, I thought. My own mother not here, but Billie and her family would be if they knew. And that’s when it hit me. She’s the one I wanted here, not my parents. I thought about calling or texting her, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I let her down and create a streak of undependability, and then ask her to come see me in the hospital? That’s fucked up. I’d already screwed it all up. All I know is I have to fix this.

Next morning, the nurses prepped me so I could leave. Nurse Parker seemed a bit off and I feared I had done something to tick her off. Maybe I asked for way too many cups of jello. I shrugged it off, signing the stack of discharge paperwork in front of me.

“Still no companion for the ride home?” She asked, wiping the dry erase board in my room clean.

“No, I’m okay, it’s not necessary anyway.” I shook my head, giving her a smile. I wonder why she cares this much, and if she gives all her other patients this much grief about being lonely.

Last night, she walked in on me crying. I couldn’t put a pin on what exactly was wrong. It was a multitude of things. There was, of course, being lonely. My absent mother, all of the mistakes I made in the past month somehow resurfacing as I’m trying to sleep, and poor Billie. This is how she must’ve felt each and every time I left her on the back burner. The mirage-like image of her looking down at me burned in my mind.

I felt like an idiot more than I felt sorry about myself. Especially after checking my voicemails and work emails. Joe was having a bitch fit over my no-call no-show. Despite having emailed HR about my accident, all he cared about was the fact that I didn’t call him directly. He gave me until the end of the month to recover, but I planned on working from home in the meantime. Eventually, Rachel reached out, asking me if I needed anything, and not to worry because Joe was in the middle of hiring a temp to fill in for me. I was replaceable, and it stung.

Nurse Parker folded up the extra blankets I no longer needed, as if to stay occupied while I finished up. Eyeing her, I continued to read through the never ending pile.

“Thank you for being so good to me.” I said to her.

“It’s my job, dear.”

I handed her the paperwork I finished, skimming through the last packet. “Can I ask you a weird question, Mrs. Parker?”

She looked up from her folding, “Yes, dear?”

“And please, don’t keep me here any longer, I promise this isn’t a crazy brain damage side effect thing.”

She laughed, putting a hand on her hip.

“Do people ever see things after surgery?”

She lifted a brow, “see… things?”

“Like,” I started, putting the pen down. “People.”

“Girl, I have nightshift today, don’t scare me like that.” She chuckled.

“No, no, not like that.” I laughed, “Never mind, it’s nothing.”

She watched me run a hand through my hair. “Okay. Here’s all of it.” I gave her the last bit of papers.

She read through it, making sure all of it was filled out, then walking out without saying anything. I sucked on my teeth. I definitely creeped her out.

I sighed, waiting to be lead out of here. My feet dangled off the hospital bed while I rummaged through my purse for sunglasses to hide my horrendous eye bags.

Nurse Parker walked back in with a folded stack of clothes. Without saying a word, she placed it on my bed, holding eye contact with me, before walking out.

I examined the clothing, holding up a large, dark green sweatshirt with embroidering on the front, and pair of black joggers to go along. The sweet, yet woody base notes filled my nose when I brought the hoodie to my face. I know exactly who the clothes belong to, bringing me to tears.

I got up, changing into them as fast as I could with one arm, tears fogging up my vision. I quickly walked out with my things, finding Mrs. Parker.

“So she was really here?” I asked, probably looking insane to the other nurses behind the desk.

She blinked, “I have no idea who you’re talking about, dear.”

“The clothes— Did you see who dropped these off for me?”

She placed a hand on my good arm gently, giving me goosebumps. “These are yours, aren’t they?” She said, monotoned.

I furrowed my brows, “No—“ I stopped myself, looking down at the new outfit I was wearing. I know she said the clothes from my accident were bloody.

She looked into my eyes, nodding slowly, as if to confirm my thoughts.

“You’re good to go, look out for any bills in the mail. Your insurance is taking care of a good chunk.” A discharge nurse handed me a sheet with post-surgery care instructions and pointed me through the door.

I nodded, walking away. Before walking through the door I looked back at Mrs. Parker, who quickly looked away from me, making herself busy.

******

In the comfort of my own home, I became restless. There was not much for me to do, barely anyone to talk to, and other than working on a few ideas for the column, I bore myself half to death. I tried to keep myself preoccupied to no avail. It wasn’t like me to sit still with nothing to work toward. My mother’s voice echoed in my head anytime I wanted to just sit and relax instead of cleaning, or working, or anything she deemed efficient.

December 18th, Billie’s birthday, finally came around, and as the holidays quickly approached, so did the empty, lonely feeling I always get. This is the first birthday that Billie and I won’t spend together. We had spent every single one of our birthdays together since we were 7 years old. I wonder if she was somewhere feeling like a part of her is missing too, or if her other friends filled that hole for her.

The presents I wrapped about a month ago were still under the tree I put up the day after thanksgiving. The sudden, sharp pain of buried memories hit me each time my eyes landed under the tree. I had presents for both my parents, a few coworkers I actually liked, friends, but also Billie, and her family.

I thought about actually spending Christmas with my parents this year, because what else am I going to do? I hadn’t spent Christmas with them in years. The divorce made things difficult, and to avoid the whole “you chose to spend more time with mom over me, or vise versa” trope, I’d always make up some excuse about work, and spending it with Billie’s family instead.

Billie, I thought. Her birthday present under the tree was the biggest. Wrapped in smooth, gold, wrapping paper, the good kind that took time to rip open, and a huge, gold, satin ribbon bow tying it all together. Inside was a scrapbook photo album I’d been working on since she started the making of her new album, focusing on time spent together. She didn’t know I had carefully handpicked each photo, ready to write paragraphs on how much each moment they represented meant to me. I wanted to rip open her present and go through the album myself. I wanted to throw myself on the floor as I thought about how I originally planned to read through the scrapbook alongside Billie.

I imagined the two of us on my couch, indulging in some sort of fresh pastry, turning the pages together and cackling about each memory and the flashbacks they’d bring. She’d smack my arm, or hit me with a cushion, each time a picture she didn’t love of herself made an appearance, and I’d explain away her self-critiques.

I wanted to watch her open my gift ever so gently, the way she always did, examining each fold and admiring my wrapping skills, while I tell her, “Just rip it open!!” And then, she’d save the ribbon, as always, saying she’d use it for another gift, another time, knowing she’d just hold onto it forever in a box full of other used gift bags and bows.

Billie, I thought, Billie needs my gift. She needs to know how wrong she is about me not caring about her, about how I looked up to her, about how much I noticed her, and wanted her to know I was there. Even nuzzled in a corner reading a book, or typing away at my keyboard, while she wrote music and recorded into her microphone, I admired each careful note and harmony that went into her vision. The spark in her every time she successfully added to a song without too much pressure never went unnoticed, and neither did her best efforts to keep our relationship afloat.

I’m going to make things right, I thought. But how? Introducing; my new preoccupation project.

[elynnism]

A Secret Chord is gothic romance and horror story about Solas and Ellana. It is lyrical and romantic and, I hope, devastating. Solas POV. This fanfiction is fully done and published! 101k words in length and a whole lot of tears. I hope you read it. I hope you love it.

Chapter 1 - A Sullied Defeat ---- Chapter 2 - From Fear to Hope ---- Chapter 3 - The Haunting ---- Chapter 4 - From First to Last ---- Chapter 5 - Misery Unfolding ---- Chapter 6 - Echo of Her Shadow ---- Chapter 7 - Crestwood was Foreplay - Solas Speech Above ---- Chapter 8 - In the Quiet Spaces ---- Chapter 9 - I Love Anything That Haunts Me ---- Chapter 10 - Heavy is the Crown ---- Chapter 11 - In the Silence, Her Hands ---- Chapter 12 - The Color of Her Sky ---- Chapter 13 - No Mourning for the Sun (feat. elgar'nan falling in love with ellana) ---- Chapter 14 - Don't Go ---- Chapter 15 - In Search of a Seeker (Part I) ---- Chapter 16 - In Search of a Seeker (Part II) ---- Chapter 17 - Depravity** ---- Chapter 18 - A Leash of Gold and Ignorance ---- Chapter 19 - Blood in the Stone ---- Chapter 20 - A Dead Priestess Speaks ---- Chapter 21 - The Elegy of Flesh ---- Chapter 22 - His Name Was Once Wisdom ---- Chapter 23 - His Name Was Once Rebellion ---- Chapter 24 - The Ache of Undoing ---- Chapter 25 - How the Earth Loved Them Back The amazing art was a commission request from me by @evermorelore, who is so talented and kind.

[airandyeah]

Sins (Alpha Geto X Omega Gojo X Omega Reader) Part.20 (Finale)

My Masterlist Series Masterlist Warnings: Obvious A/B/O dynamics, fated mates, suggestive comments or actions, just generally Minors DNI-just in case. This will be similar to Pink Pony Club, where I just mark every chapter as 18+ Last part! Thank you to all of my readers and otherwise supporters, this has been a wild, fun, journey. I hope you'll enjoy the rest of my A/B/O series' and any of my other fics/content. Thank you again, and have a nice day/night.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting the beach in hues of soft gold and warm orange. The sound of waves rolling against the shore mixed with the laughter of your children—your daughters, both just as mischievous as their father, and your son, a perfect mix of Suguru’s calm and your own stubbornness.

They ran through the sand, tiny footprints trailing behind them as they shrieked and giggled, chasing each other with seashells and splashes of water.

Satoru sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the blanket. "You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been this exhausted in my life. Even running a mafia wasn’t this hard."

Suguru snorted, reaching over to ruffle his white hair. "That’s because they’re your daughters. They’re just like you—loud, dramatic, and completely unhinged."

Satoru gasped, hand over his heart. "Excuse me? They have your little evil mastermind streak! I caught them plotting against me yesterday."

You smiled, watching your daughters tug your son along, making him the unwilling participant in whatever grand scheme they were planning. "At least our son is a little more level-headed," you mused.

Suguru hummed, tilting his head. "For now. Give him a few years with those two, and he’ll be just as bad."

Satoru grinned, sitting up to kiss your temple. "At least they’re cute," he murmured.

You leaned into him, eyes soft as you watched the three of them shriek with laughter, chasing each other through the surf.

"They’re perfect," you whispered.

Suguru sighed contentedly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as the three of you sat together, watching the sunset and the little family you had built—one that would always, always be full of love.

Nanami had grumbled for weeks about their decision, sighing heavily as he signed off on paperwork and handled the mess they left behind.

"I should have known you'd dump everything on me," he had muttered, rubbing his temples as Satoru grinned at him from across the table, completely unbothered.

"Come on, Nanamin, you were practically made for this job. You love rules, structure, all that boring stuff."

"That doesn’t mean I wanted to run the entire operation," Nanami shot back, exasperated. "You can’t just leave the mafia like it’s a hobby, Satoru."

Suguru had simply chuckled, patting Nanami’s shoulder. "You’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not like we’re leaving you completely alone—Shoko’s still here oh and Higuruma still stops by, and we trust you more than anyone else."

Nanami sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before muttering, "That doesn't make me feel better."

But in the end, he let them go.

Because for the first time in their lives, Satoru and Suguru wanted peace—real peace. They wanted quiet mornings and lazy afternoons, wanted to wake up beside you without worrying about blood on their hands.

They wanted to raise their family without the weight of their past looming over them.

And as you sat there now, watching your children play under the sun, listening to the soft laughter of your mates beside you, you knew they had made the right choice. ~~~ Satoru crossed his arms, sighing dramatically. "Alright, which one of you is going to explain why the cat is covered in paint?"

The twins, identical white-haired girls with guilty expressions, exchanged glances before looking at their younger brother.

The little boy, Suguru’s son, simply grinned—mischievous and far too pleased with himself. "It was an experiment."

"An experiment?*" Suguru arched a brow, tilting his head. "Go on."

The twins immediately started shaking their heads, their tiny hands flailing as they tried to protest. "No, no! Don’t listen to him, Papa! He’s lying!"

"Am not!" the boy shot back, puffing out his chest. "I just wanted to see if Moose would look cool with stripes like a tiger."

Satoru pinched the bridge of his nose, trying very hard not to laugh. "So you thought covering the cat in orange and black paint was the best way to do that?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically. "Uh-huh!"

"And you two?" Suguru turned his gaze to the twins, who suddenly seemed very interested in their feet. "Did you help?"

One of them—Satoru’s little copy through and through—huffed. "...Maybe."

The other twin pouted. "But it was his idea!" She pointed aggressively at her brother, who merely smirked.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "You guys do realize Moose is white, right? That’s not coming out easily."

From the corner of the room, Moose—your ever-suffering, patient cat—huffed loudly, looking absolutely done with life as he sat covered in streaks of orange and black.

Satoru finally broke, snickering as he leaned against Suguru. "You gotta admit, he does kinda look cool as a tiger."

"Satoru!"

"What? I’m just saying!"

You knelt beside the tub, sleeves rolled up as you worked a generous amount of dog-safe shampoo into Moose’s paint-streaked fur. The massive, long-suffering cat let out a low, grumbling sigh, clearly displeased with his predicament. You had to use dog shampoo just because it would power through more of the paint than cat shampoo-

"Oh, don’t be so dramatic," you muttered, rubbing at a stubborn patch of orange on his side. "It’s just a little paint. You’ve been through worse."

From beside you, Hime— His black cat girlfriend —sat perched on the edge of the tub, tail flicking as she watched over Moose like a concerned nurse. Every time one of the kids got too close, she let out a small, disapproving mrrp as if scolding them for their crimes.

"See? Even Hime knows you guys messed up," you said, glancing at the guilty trio of children who were each holding their own tiny washcloths.

"Sorry, Moose," one of the twins muttered, gently scrubbing at him.

"You still look kinda cool, though," her sister added under her breath, making her younger brother snicker.

Moose groaned, as if lamenting his fate.

You sighed, shaking your head fondly. "Alright, alright, let’s just get this over with before your fathers get back and start another interrogation."

The kids giggled at that, getting more into the task, their previous mischief momentarily forgotten.

As the warm water ran through Moose’s fur, slowly washing away the evidence of their little experiment, Hime stretched out a paw and delicately tapped his nose—perhaps her way of telling him it would all be over soon.

You smiled softly, watching them all.

Chaos and messes aside, you wouldn’t trade this life for anything. ~~~ Some days, you genuinely couldn’t decide what was worse—the kids or Satoru.

Like today.

"It was a perfectly reasonable idea," Satoru huffed, arms crossed as he sat on the kitchen counter like an oversized child who had just been scolded.

"You tried to teach them how to shoot a gun," you deadpanned, rubbing your temples as you pointed to the three giggling culprits, who had very nearly shot through the damn ceiling. "They’re barely out of their toddler years, Satoru."

"Exactly! Start ‘em young!" He grinned, ruffling one of the twins’ white locks. "How else are they gonna become prodigies?"

"Orphans," you corrected. "The word you’re looking for is orphans."

Suguru sighed from his place at the kitchen table, sipping his tea with the patience of a saint. "You should’ve seen him earlier," he muttered. "Tried to get them to do a ‘cool entrance’ like he does at work."

"And it would have been cool!" Satoru argued, waving his hands. "Until someone—" he shot a look at his son, "—decided to get ‘creative’ and ended up in the pantry instead."

The boy in question looked smug, rocking back and forth on his heels. "I was hungry."

You groaned, running a hand down your face. "I swear, sometimes I don’t know who’s worse—"

"Satoru," Suguru answered without hesitation.

"Hey!"

The kids cackled, clearly in agreement. Even Hime let out a small mrrp of approval from her perch.

You sighed, shaking your head. "I should’ve known this was a lost cause the moment I married you two."

Satoru beamed, pulling you into his arms. "And yet," he purred, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "you wouldn’t change a thing."

You wanted to argue. You really did.

But then you glanced at your family—at the kids giggling, at Suguru’s fond amusement, at Satoru’s unrelenting, ridiculous grin.

Yeah. You wouldn't change it for anything at all. ~~~ Nanami’s wife was a godsend.

There were days when the chaos of three little monsters—your three little monsters—became overwhelming, and just when you thought you’d lose your mind, she’d show up at your doorstep with that gentle smile and an offer that had you nearly in tears.

"I’ll take them for the day," she’d say, already bending down to scoop up one of the twins. "You three need some time to yourselves."

You didn’t argue. You couldn’t.

She was amazing with children, the kind of person who could calm even the most restless pup with a few soft words and a warm hug. And the kids adored her, always clamoring to spend time at “Auntie’s” house, where they were spoiled beyond belief. Even Nanami, as exasperated as he pretended to be, secretly enjoyed having them around.

So on those days, you, Suguru, and Satoru finally got to breathe.

To just be mates again, instead of parents.

Some days, it meant slow mornings in bed, tangled in sheets and warm limbs, making up for all the nights you had been woken by tiny voices calling for you. Other times, it meant sneaking away to a private dinner, hands clasped under the table, whispered confessions of love like you were still newly mated.

And sometimes—especially when Satoru was feeling particularly smug—it meant indulging in activities that reminded you just how you ended up with three pups in the first place.

No matter how you spent the time, by the end of the day, when you picked up your children—now full of stories and sleepy smiles—you were always grateful.

Grateful for Nanami’s wife.

Grateful for the love that surrounded you. On the rare days you had to yourselves, the three of you barely made it out of bed.

It always started the same way—waking up in a warm tangle of limbs, the weight of Suguru’s arm draped over your waist, Satoru’s face nuzzled into your neck. For once, there were no little feet kicking at your ribs, no tiny voices calling for breakfast, no urgent need to leave the safety of your nest.

And none of you were in any hurry to change that.

Satoru was the worst—shameless in his clinginess, wrapping himself around you like a second skin, murmuring about how you belonged here, right here, forever and ever. Suguru wasn’t much better, though he pretended to be—always the calm one, always composed—until you shifted just right and the deep rumble of his growl betrayed his restraint.

You weren’t any different.

It had been too long since the three of you had time to just be, without work, without pups, without the exhaustion of everyday life pulling you away from each other.

So, you took your time.

Soft kisses turned desperate, lingering touches became possessive, whispered words of love melted into needy pleas. They worshipped you—like they always did—Satoru all teasing smirks and breathy laughter, Suguru’s hands firm and steady, grounding you between them.

Hours passed—maybe more. You weren’t sure. Time had no meaning when you were here, wrapped up in them, drowning in their love.

By the time you finally surfaced from the haze, exhaustion pulling at your limbs, you knew the rest of the day would be spent much the same way. ~~~ It was a quiet afternoon when your oldest twin came home, all giggles and excitement, practically bouncing as she kicked off her shoes. You barely glanced up from the kitchen, distracted with dinner prep, but the moment the words left her mouth, the atmosphere in the apartment shifted.

"Mama! Guess what? I have a boyfriend!"

Silence.

A slow, creeping dread settled over you as you turned to look at your mates.

Suguru, who had been reading on the couch, had frozen mid-page, his grip tightening until the paper crinkled under his fingers. His eyes lifted, dark and unreadable, as he processed the words.

Satoru? Oh, Satoru lost it.

"A what?!" The chair he had been lounging in scraped harshly against the floor as he sprang up, dramatically clutching his chest as if he had been stabbed. "You’re six! What do you mean, you have a boyfriend?! Who is this little punk?! What’s his last name? His address?"

Your daughter blinked up at him, entirely unbothered. "I’m eight, Daddy. And his name is Haru! He’s really nice! He—"

"That’s it. We’re moving." Satoru spun on his heel, already reaching for his phone. "Suguru, pack the bags. We need to take our baby somewhere where boys don’t exist."

Suguru finally moved, standing up at his full height, the deep rumble of a very displeased Alpha filling the room. "What does this Haru look like?"

Your daughter, oblivious to her impending doom, just shrugged. "He has brown hair! And he gave me a juice box today! So now we’re dating!"

Satoru made a wounded noise. "Is that all it takes?! I’ve given you way more juice boxes than some random kid—do you know how many sweets I’ve snuck you behind your mama’s back?! Where’s my love?!"

"You’re already married to Mommy and Papa," she reasoned, rolling her eyes. "You don’t need a boyfriend."

Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply through his nostrils like he was trying very, very hard to keep his composure. "We need to meet him."

"No, we don’t," you interjected, stepping in before things spiraled. "She’s eight. This is just a childhood crush, and you two are not going to scare some poor boy away just because he shared his juice box."

But neither of them looked convinced.

Satoru crossed his arms, scowling. "I want a background check."

"Satoru."

"Just a little one! Just a peek at his family records!"

Suguru nodded in agreement. "If he’s going to be around our daughter, we should at least know who he is."

"You’re both insane."

"We’re protective," Satoru corrected. "There’s a difference."

Your daughter huffed. "You guys are overreacting. Haru is really nice! He said my hair clip was pretty today!*"

Suguru growled.

Satoru snapped his fingers. "That’s it. We’re sending her to an all-girls school."

"We are not sending her to an all-girls school," you sighed, rubbing your temples.

Your daughter, meanwhile, seemed unbothered, skipping toward her room as if she hadn’t just shattered her fathers’ worlds. "I’m gonna call Haru! He said we can play games together!"

As she disappeared down the hall, Suguru sat back down with a heavy sigh, while Satoru slumped dramatically against you. "Baby, this is horrible. We weren’t ready for this."

You rolled your eyes, but you let him bury his face in your neck, his distress comical. "She’s a child, Satoru."

"Yeah, well, she’s our child," he muttered. "And no little brat is stealing her from us."

Suguru was already on his phone, searching. "Haru, huh? Let’s see what we’re working with."

"You two are not stalking a child."

They didn’t answer.

And suddenly, you knew—this was only the beginning. ~~~ It was as if one wasn’t bad enough.

One by one, all three of your children came home with news that had their fathers on the verge of absolute meltdown.

First, it was your eldest twin with Haru. Then, not to be outdone, her sister declared that she had a boyfriend now too—some boy named Daichi, who apparently shared his pudding with her at lunch. Pudding. That was all it took. Satoru nearly combusted on the spot.

And then, just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, your son, your baby boy, came home and casually mentioned that he had a girlfriend.

A girlfriend.

Satoru nearly flipped the dinner table. Suguru looked like he had been personally betrayed.

Your mate’s fork clattered onto his plate as he turned to your son with an expression so deeply unamused it could have frozen hell over. "What did you just say?"

Your son, the traitor, just kept munching on his rice like he didn’t just deliver the final blow. "I said, I have a girlfriend. Her name is Hina. She told me I was handsome, so we’re dating now."

Satoru made a choked noise. "That’s not how it works!"

"You two got together because Papa called you pretty," your son reasoned, utterly unfazed. "So I don’t see the difference."

Suguru visibly winced, while Satoru looked personally offended. "That’s completely different!"

"How?"

"Because I was an adult! You’re six—you don’t even know what a girlfriend is!"

Your son, deadpan, sipped his juice. "I do. It means she likes me the most."

"She likes you the most?!" Suguru finally spoke, his voice dangerously calm. "Who is this Hina? What’s her last name? Where do her parents work?"

"Oh my god," you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Not again."

Satoru, meanwhile, was on the verge of hysteria. "That’s it! The girls were bad enough, but now even our son is getting stolen?! This is an attack! This is a conspiracy! They’re trying to take all our babies from us!"

"It’s not that serious," you sighed.

"It’s worse," Satoru whined, grabbing you dramatically. "Our babies are growing up! It’s all downhill from here! Next, they’ll be sneaking out, then getting married, then—"

"Married?!" Suguru snapped, hands slamming on the table. "Over my dead body!"

Your son blinked at his fathers, then turned to you. "Are they okay?"

"No," you answered bluntly. "No, they are not."

Satoru groaned. "We should have had more kids. Just a few more. Then we’d still have some left when these ones abandon us."

"They are six and eight years old," you stressed. "No one is abandoning anyone."

"Yet," Satoru muttered darkly. "Yet."

Suguru exhaled slowly through his nose, clearly trying to collect himself, before he leveled his son with a look. "Listen to me, sweetheart. No dating until you’re at least thirty."

Your son frowned. "But Papa—"

"Thirty," Satoru repeated firmly. "Maybe thirty-five, if we’re feeling generous."

"That’s not fair," the boy pouted. "Hina says we’re going to get married one day, too."

Suguru let out a slow, dangerous hum. "Married?"

Your son nodded happily. "Yeah! She said I’m her soulmate, so we have to!"

Satoru collapsed.

Suguru stood up, rolling his sleeves like he was about to personally interrogate a six-year-old. "I need to have a word with her."

"You are not hunting down a child," you said, grabbing his arm before he could storm off.

"I just want to talk to her," Suguru lied.

Your son, bless his soul, just kept eating like he wasn’t fueling his fathers’ descent into madness.

Meanwhile, in the other room, the twins were playing with their dolls, completely ignoring the chaos they had created.

Satoru, face buried in his hands, let out a wounded sigh. "I’m too pretty to be this stressed."

"Oh, shut up," you muttered.

Taglist is always open for anyone! Just comment, send an ask, or a DM and I'll add you! Taglist: @purpleicing , mini-kunoichi , @gravity-valley , @jinjen , @c0quin , @makingtimemine , @asweetblueberry2 , @vyxte I think that's everyone who asked to be tagged, I apologize if I missed anyone!!! Perma-tags: @thenightperson

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 11.2 (MBJ x Black OC)

A/N: Long awaited and well over due. This is basically chapter 12 but it really connects to 11.1. Nothing to say except enjoy!

“Michael, stop messing with the fuckin’ cuff links!” Alex called over to him from her spot on the couch. “I thought you weren’t nervous??” 

Michael cut his eyes toward his agent before forcing his fingers away from the gold cufflinks near his wrist. That had been his original claim when he arrived at his suite to get ready, proudly boosting that he did not feel nervous at all. And some part of him had believed that was true. But as makeup ended and he got dressed, the nerves started to settle in. Tonight was no longer some distant potential achievement. It was here and now. And his shoulders were starting to feel the weight of that pressure. He tried his best to remain excited and upbeat but there were some ticks he simply couldn’t hide. 

“Ha ha. I’m just… you know, already ready for it to be over. Gotta sit through 100 fuckin’ awards before they get to mine. Just gonna be a long night.” 

“Whatever you say,” she muttered, her face scrunching up at her phone for a minute. 

“Somethin’ wrong?” his antenna going up immediately, anxiety that something had already gone wrong seeping into his confident facade. “Fuck… You think we should’ve gone with the other suit, don’t you??” 

“Nigga… they’re both black tuxes, calm down. No one’s ever looked at you to be the pillar of fashion. You look great, that’s all that matters. Just taking care of some last minute details, boring shit you wouldn’t be interested in.” 

Michael knew not to press any farther as she immediately changed the subject, standing up and starting to walk over to him. He watched as she studied the time on her phone screen for a moment as his stylist’s assistant slid on the tailored jacket for his suite.

“Can someone check on his mom? Jason went to check out the space and it’s ready for photos. We gotta start in 10 though if we want to make it to the carpet.” 

“I’ll go.” 

He was thankful his mom agreed to accompany him on such a momentous occasion, she was the only date he could fathom taking as the woman he wanted was unavailable. 

Raven. 

Some fantasy that she would call or text him good luck drove him to check his phone every 20 minutes or so, praying for anything that signaled that she thought of him as he did her. She tortured his every waking thought, even after agreeing to give her the space she desperately wanted and needed. But his soul did not want space, his soul wanted their better half, the person who made all of this worth something. 

He shook his head for a moment and forced her to the back of his brain, where he knew she would only stay for a short while. No more than 10 minutes would go by before someone or something reminded him of her. But when he thought of her too long, the sparse stitches holding those wounds together tore open and blood flowed earnestly from them. And such emotional agony would not stand on the biggest night of his career. So he forced a smile onto his face and thoughts of a love he would likely never have again behind the barriers around his heart and knocked on the door to his mother’s room. 

However, he was not prepared to find her still clad in the lounging set Raven and he had bought her for Christmas, completely unprepared to attend the biggest night in Hollywood. 

“Ma, what’s wrong? We gotta leave soon. Why aren’t you dressed?” 

“Well I didn’t want to worry you while you were getting ready but I’m just not feeling well. I don’t think I can make it all evening. I’m sorry, baby.” 

Michael’s face fell ever so slightly at the disappointment, though he tried his hardest to hide it. It was not his mother’s fault that she was not feeling well and even he knew the rest of the day would be tiresome and exhausting for even those in good spirits. So he did not want her trying to suffer through on his account. However, he would not pretend that it did not sting, to know that he would not have anyone there to support him, hold his hand. That he would spend tonight… completely alone. 

Her renewed apologies made him fix his face immediately, knowing that she likely already felt badly for canceling on him. He had no interest in making her feel any worse. 

“I really am sorry, baby. But I wasn’t the date you wanted to take anyway,” she chuckled, her eyes filled with sympathy. 

Those makeshift barriers dissolved into nothing stronger than paper at her words. And as flimsy as they originally were, they were all he had to hold onto to get through tonight. 

“Don’t apologize, ma. Really no big deal at all. You should rest. And you know you’re always my favorite date. Besides, your love is the reason I’m here. You’ll always be my #1,” he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. When her eyes, unsurprisingly, filled with tears, Michael chuckled a bit. “Don’t cry on me. Alex will kill me for messin’ up this makeup.”  

She took a tissue and whisked away the pools of tears in her eyes before adjusting his bowtie.

“You know how proud I am of you? How lucky I am to be your mom? I thank God for you, your sister, and your brother every day. And all I’ve ever wanted for each of you is to live out your dreams and be happy. No matter what you do or who you’re with. Just that. Tonight you’re seeing God’s manifestation of your dreams and win or lose, I couldn’t be prouder of you. But even I know, only one person could make you truly happy tonight. That facade might fool the world but not me. I saw how happy she made you, Bakari. How she turned my scared little boy into a brave and vulnerable man without even trying. I may have gotten you here but her love and adoration and the love you have for her will keep you here. Will help you reach dreams I couldn’t even comprehend for you. And that’s a woman I’ll happily step into the #2 spot for any day.”

“Thanks ma… but I don’t think she wants that spot anymore… wants me anymore. Hell, I don’t even know where she is in the world.” The resigned smile on his face and the humorless laugh could not hide the depths of his sadness as he recalled the message he received from David letting him know that Raven boarded a flight to only God knows where. He had failed and even tonight could not take his mind off the 101 ways he failed the love of his life. “I screwed up. Gotta accept the consequences. I wanna be the man you raised and the man she thought she fell in love with. Even if I don’t get to be that for her.” 

“Give it time, Bakari. You know what I always reminded you three. Everything meant for you will come to you or find its way back to you. God never denies what he ordained as yours, sweetheart. Something to remember for more than one reason tonight.”

There was a certain mischievous glint in her eyes that did not match the typical motherly tone in her voice. “More than one reason” stuck out in his brain. 

What the fuck does that even mean? 

“What do you me-?” he started to ask when his mother cut him off. 

“Oh gosh, you know I didn’t even notice the time? You should go, dear. Don’t wanna get in trouble with that Alex, do we?” 

Realizing that it was almost showtime forced his confusion right out of his brain as he forced himself to focus on the moment, his moment. 

“Nah we don’t. She’s terrifyin’,” he admitted. “How about you lay down and rest for a while and Allen can take you home when you feel better? Or you can enjoy the suite for the night? Totally up to you.” 

“Thank you, baby. I’ll hang out here, let the traffic clear a bit then head to your sister’s. Everyone’s watching there. You look amazing. Can’t wait to see you shine tonight ” 

“Thanks, ma. Aight, I should head down to take pictures. Love you.”  

He squeezed her hand before she turned around and closed the door of her room behind her.  

He walked back to where his team was waiting. The lack of noise and hustle and bustle in the space caught him off guard as he expected to return to the same chaotic space with his team racing around him. However, only Alex stood waiting on him. 

“Where’d everybody go?” 

“Oh I sent them all downstairs. Figured you wouldn’t mind a couple minutes of peace before the longest night of your life.”  

And that was why, of everyone on his team, Alex was one of the few that stood the test of time. She knew him, truly knew him and what he needed. 

“Thanks.” He paused as he studied her. “You good?” 

Alex had been in the wings of every major career moment in Michael’s life and she typically brought an air of assurance and confidence that put Michael at ease. She was a staple calming force that kept his own anxiety in check. However, tonight? Everything about her seemed off, distracted and anxious in a way that made his empath sensors go haywire. She seemed utterly engrossed in her own phone, which was not unlike Alex but typically she cued Michael in, if nothing else. But tonight, she offered him no insight.  

“Yea… just a big night. Want to make sure everything’s perfect,” she muttered. “Come on… Jason says they’re ready for us.” 

Michael did not need to be the smartest person in the room to immediately recognize that she was hiding something from him. He knew he would never get it out of her as she was the world’s most secure vault for secrets. And there was a part of him that did not even want to know for fear that it would scare him into skipping the night altogether. What if she already found out that he lost? If anyone in his orbit was part of some dark Hollywood back channel, Alex would be it. Or something happened to Raven and she did not want him to lose his shit right before the event. Because they both knew he would drop all of this in a heartbeat for her. Foolish? Perhaps but that was how he knew he had found true love, his soul mate. Because nothing in this life was as important as her and he would drop all of it to rush to her side if she asked. But she would never ask, because she did not consider herself worthy of sacrifices, which only served as fuel to spend everyday proving to her that she was.

Why did he even try not to think of her? Somehow, every thought was merely the first step down a path that led right to Raven’s doorstep. 

He trailed slightly behind Alex as she led him to the elevator. However, before she hit the button, she stopped. 

“Oh shoot. I need to stop by my suite. Forgot somethin. It’s just down the hall, it’ll take two minutes. Got a gift for you for your big night. A little good luck charm.” 

“Alex, you know you didn’t need to get me shit.” And he truly meant that. He was just grateful to have Alex in his corner, her presence and commitment to his career was a gift in and of itself. “And send me the bill for your suite. Would’ve just gotten it for you.”

“Nah, it’s all good. It was last minute and I only got it for convenience, really.” She used her key to open the door and held it open so Michael could walk inside. 

However, as she opened the door, her usual resting bitch face (Alex’s words, not his) turned into a bright grin, one that she clearly tried desperately to minimize but couldn’t. And while Michael had expected flowers or a gift basket or even a bottle of his favorite rum, now he wondered if the gift was something far bigger than that. What he did not expect, when he turned the corner into her suite’s sitting area, was to find Raven awkwardly fidgeting with her gown as Jason made last-minute adjustments. 

“Wha…” His words died in his throat as she turned to face him, his stride stumbling backward in shock as he drank her in. 

He could have stood there and stared at her for the rest of the night and it would not have been enough time. Several lifetimes filled with millions of minutes and seconds would hardly scratch the surface of how much time he needed to simply consume her presence, to refill the parts of his soul that had depleted without her. 

Beautiful was a gross understatement for her. She was stunning, a goddess plucked from the heavens and placed among lesser men. Michael did not think he had ever laid eyes on a more radiant human being. But it was not her stunning beauty that caused tears to spring to his eyes. It was the look of renewed hope in hers, the smallest flame reignited after it had been utterly extinguished the last time he laid eyes on her. And fuck, that could’ve ended him right then and there. To see hope and light in her again, to see the Raven he had fallen so deeply for, she was all consuming. 

She had not even said a word yet but the impact of her choice to be there, to show up for him and choose him after everything conveyed a love words would not be sufficient enough to. The silence stretched on as he studied all the things that had made him fall in love. The soft expectant smile painted on her face as she stared at him that only solidified that she was willing and ready to rebuild with him. The anxious way her eyes glanced down at her own dress and her hands fidgeted that told him she was searching for his confirmation that he still wanted her here or that she looked beautiful, that reminded him of her awkwardness and endless humility that made him fall in love with her in the first place. The way her eyes, the most expressive aspect of her, somehow told him everything he needed to know without uttering a word. 

“I-I hope this is ok?” she asked quietly as she broke the silence and expectant tension that blanketed Alex’s suite, snapping Michael out of his speechless trance. “Admittedly, I only gave Alex and Jason like 24 hours notice. So our options were kind of limited b-but they said it would compliment yours a-and likely get me on a best dressed list, which d-doesn’t really matter but could be nice? I dunno though… think I’ve had enough publicity for a lifetime,” she laughed anxiously. “But I don’t know what’s appropriate to wear to the Oscars with the 2023 Best Actor and they do. But I know this probably isn’t what you envisioned when you invited me in January. But don’t blame them. It’s definitely my fault. Lost weight so my measurements weren’t quite right and the time thing. Honestly, give them a raise… well I can’t tell you what to do with your money. But you should…” she glanced over Michael’s shoulder at Alex who was staring at her with a look that simply said, ‘speed the reunion up, sis.’ So Raven cut herself off, her last rambling words falling off. “Consider it…” 

“You… you came?” 

“I heard you needed a date?” 

Michael rarely experienced true speechlessness, the right words rarely eluded him. He usually always knew what to say. His brain was on the verge of explosion with all the things he desperately wanted to say, his deepest proclamations of regret and love sat on his tongue but he just did not know where to start, could not find the place to start.

Meanwhile, Raven had an entire soliloquy of how she was ready to forgive and move forward because she loved him planned out in her mind. But every painstakingly chosen word evaporated from her mind as she looked at him, as she stared at the man her soul had come to recognize as her safest place to be. The one place that did not demand she provide her most perfect words or anything from her at all. It simply demanded, insisted, that she just be.

And now, the words that sprung to her mind were not perfect at all. They were raw, they were broken… they were her vulnerabilities, her fear, her pain, and they were her hope. Her wildest fantasies and her dreams. And she was no longer afraid to express them loudly here. Because he was the one place where she could. 

“You remember when I woke up in the hospital and the first thing I said to you was apologizing for not being the girl you wanted? For not being good enough? A-and you told me not to compare myself to h-her… or anyone else. B-”

“Because you’re one of a kind,” Michael finished simply.

“That was one of the nicest things a man… anyone had said to me in so long,” she admitted, her head bowing slightly. “And I didn’t believe it. I wanted to be loved by you so badly, Michael. B-But I couldn’t believe a man like you would ever think I was enough because I wasn’t enough for anyone. I wasn’t right for anyone. A-And I had internalized this narrative that I didn’t deserve love o-or to be happy. That I just deserved some second-rate, half life filled with disregard and pain because other people told me so. A-And when we s-started dating, I finally started to believe that all that hope had been worth something? That maybe I deserved something… better? A-And w-when I saw her, my heart immediately felt like… you were finally admitting it. I wasn’t enough for you either.”

Every punch and injury he sustained playing Adonis Creed paled in comparison to that. He did not know if it was possible to feel worse about what he had done.

“Rae… baby, you gotta know that-“ 

She held up her hand to stop him, Michael immediately falling silent. 

“I know… at the time though? It felt like God confirming everything everyone w-who knew me ever said, t-the fuel for that voice in my head that told me I would never b-be enough, w-was right. And all the ways you showed me I was enough, all the ways you showed up for me… didn’t seem real anymore. And that broke me. So I left, gave you the out I thought everyone who knew me wanted. T-this nuisance out of their lives. But you… you didn’t leave.”

Michael could hear the pure perplexity in her voice, as if the competing voices in her head could not square why he kept reaching out, kept showing up even as she pushed him away. 

“Because I love you.”

“Because you love me.” Raven repeated it but Michael could hear it, the recognition that his words were the truth.

“I… um. I don’t believe I deserve you,” Raven said simply. “But for the first time, I know that I want more than whatever life in the shadows I thought I had to have. I know that I don’t want to push away love a-and happiness anymore. A-and I don’t want to push you away anymore. B-Because you are love, safety, comfort… happiness. I want to believe I deserve better? I want… to believe I deserve you. Because when I’m with you…” 

Raven let out a shaky exhale that felt like her body starting to expel all those tormenting thoughts she internalized as she finally admitted out loud that this love was everything she always wanted. 

“When I’m with you, all I feel is joy. A joy so pure that only something hand crafted by God himself could feel so good. You’re every fantasy I dreamed of but never thought I could have. Since the moment I fell off that damn table like a clumsy fucking idiot, you’ve been my safest place, you’ve been home, and you’ve been one of the few people in my life who’ve loved me unapologetically and loudly.” 

She finally closed the space between them, putting herself within arm’s length of him. 

“And I owe you an apology for… letting my exhaustion and pent up pain blind me to all the ways you’ve loved me loudly since the day we met. Regardless of how tired a-and exhausted I am from falling and crashing into the rocks, you were always worth climbing back up that mountain. You were always worth a second chance. And I should’ve recognized that far earlier.”

A pressure valve Michael did not even know had formed in his body released at her words. It felt like being able to take a deep breath again.

“So I’m here and I’m still hurt a-and exhausted but I’m ready to do something different, ready to run toward the cliff and take the leap and fall again. And I want to do that with you… If I’m not too late?” 

Michael did not even command his legs to move as her confirmation hit his ears. Before either of them could utter another word, she was in his arms. A sweet giggle erupted as he pulled her unexpectedly toward him and crashed his lips against hers. And the peace that brought was unparalleled. 

Raven could have melted against him, her soul at ease for the first time in too long as he held her tightly. 

The rest of their small audience melted away as their hearts and souls sought to reclaim their other half, their kiss spelling out every ache and pain their brief separation caused. His lips felt so familiar, so much like home, that it almost hurt. Every second in his arms felt as if it mended the fissures of Raven’s heart one by one, stitching her back together intentionally and with such care that it made her want to sob. 

Her own foolishness baffled her. How could she have denied herself this? This ethereal, otherworldly type of love. She would never find something comparable with another living soul. Because this insanely perfect man in front of her was it for her. She had never had a real family but in his arms, she could see one and it was everything she had ever dreamed for herself. The emotions of finally accepting, even in objective disbelief, his love for her hit her in waves that gently crashed over her one by one. But she was not overwhelmed like before, drowning beneath them as she fought for air. 

This was serenity, gentle waves blanketing her in warmth and care. Such care that it was painful to pull away to catch her own breath. 

Was breathing really a necessity right now?? She demanded of herself as his touch set off heat and flames of desire as he touched her. Weeks and weeks of deprivation meant she needed this more than she could describe, needed the physical representation of his love. His touch, his kiss, his devotion to her needs.  

She did not even look away from him but her next words were for the pair awkwardly lingering in the room, long forgotten.  

“We need 10 minutes.” 

Alex groaned, breaking the sexual tension in the room with her annoyance, though she acquiesced far faster than Raven expected. Though she suspected his longtime agent could see a losing battle from a mile away. 

“Fine but you really only get 10 minutes. Fuckin’ Oscars not a goddamn industry party. Can’t just roll in whenever we feel like it. And I swear to God… if you fuck on my bed or fuck up your outfits and make up, I’ll spend the rest of my life breaking you two up again.” 

And with that, she grabbed Jason by his sleeve and marched out of the suite, leaving the two of them alone. Raven did not even wait for the click of the door to launch herself back into his arms, her fingers working faster than her mind could direct to undress him. 

If anyone could see them, she imagined their movements were feral, so frenzied with their carnal instincts that it looked purely chaotic. Raven’s dress was in a crumble at her feet, his suit jacket was somewhere Raven could not even see. Her fingers rushed to undo the buttons of his shirt before abandoning the task for his pants. 

“Fuck, why are there so many buttons??” She came up for air long enough to moan in frustration as Alex’s warning rang out in her head. 

Only ten minutes. How was that enough time? That was not even a fraction of the time she required to do all the things her brain demanded she do to feel all of him and ensure he felt all of her too. 

“Fuck I missed you,” he uttered between kisses as he tried to take her incredibly tight but effective spanx off. 

She prayed Alex’s threat was a joke because she did not need a mirror to know her makeup would indeed need more than a light retouch. His kisses were unyielding, sloppy and utterly unrestrained. Their need for each other simply fed off the others and she knew neither would be satiated in ten minutes.

We need to stop, she thought. It was the biggest night of his career. She should stop so he could focus on that, right? 

But she couldn’t, didn’t want to. 

“I need you,” she whimpered, her desire to be filled far louder than the time clock in her head. 

And her voice was so needy that Michael, whose self-control was hanging by a thread, almost gave in. 

The only thing that gave him the strength to stop them before neither of them would be able to stop was the knowledge that she deserved more than a 10-minute quickie. She deserved to be devoured with every ounce of his being devoted to and focused on her. No interruptions, no distractions. She was a goddess to be worshiped with every stroke in her heat and that was not a process that could be rushed.  

“Baby, baby, baby,” he gently cradled her neck, forcing her to slow down and look at him. His resolve was tested at the lust in her eyes, how her entire body was suddenly flushed with heat. “Fuck…” the words were agony to push out but necessary. “I want you so bad. But not like this.” 

Raven, still a work in progress, could not stop the immediate intrusive thought that he did not want her, that she had misread everything. Michael could see it, how her eyes flashed with that fear and insecurity. He would never not want her, he would happily remind her of that every day if necessary. But he knew himself too well. Once he found himself trapped inside her, he would not be able to stop himself. And he wanted to take his time. 

“It’s not you. It’s never you,” he brushed her hair behind her ear. “I just… I want more for this than a 10-minute quickie in a hotel room that isn’t even ours. You deserve more.” 

Her heart swelled at his words, realizing that he was not even thinking about the clock. He was merely thinking about her. That forced her to calm down a bit, her lust still red hot and flowing but the logical part of her brain was taking control again. 

The slight pout on her face made him chuckle and pull her in for another kiss. It was deeper and more sensual, a quiet plea to trust that he would always give her what she needed. Even if not in the exact timing her body desired it. 

“Every moment with you counts and I’m not lettin’ anymore pass that I don’t treat you like you deserve. Trust me, I’ll give you what you need, baby girl. It’ll be worth the wait.” 

Raven knew he was right. Despite the persistent ache in her core, she knew she could wait for what he planned. It would be far better than a rushed reunion on a couch anyway.

“I trust you. Just make sure your team knows to clear your very packed schedule for the next couple days,” she teased as she stole one last kiss before she tried to put some distance between them. Her body still wanted him desperately and while she trusted him, she was not sure she trusted herself. 

But Michael merely pulled her back in and held onto her tighter. 

“Oh the world ain’t gon’ see me or you for more than a couple days. I’m all yours.” He winked at her before helping her get her dress back on and his own suit back on. Once he opened the door to let Alex back in, both of them looked exactly as the two had left them, not a hair out of place. Save Raven’s lipstick, which was completely gone. 

“Damn… three minutes? Knew you couldn’t be worth the hype,” Alex immediately said as she breezed back into the suite, utterly unbothered by the idea that the two might have fucked just moments prior. 

“You always got jokes.” 

Alex immediately fired off last-minute directions to the makeup team to fix Raven’s before they prepared for photos and to leave.  Though Raven had endured the tedious process of getting ready for awards and premieres  before, today was the most hectic yet. But she was not panicked because she stuck close to Michael, who was the picture of ease and calm. He was the eye of this hurricane, the small world that was him purely at ease even when he should not be. 

“You nervous?” she asked as the photographer directed her to perch on Michael’s knee before going to switch out the lens on his camera.  

He offered her the most sincere smile, his eyes glimmering with all the love and adoration he felt toward her. 

“Nah. Why would I be? I already got the most important thing I needed today. Tonight’ll just be a cherry on top.” 

***

Raven was beginning to wonder if her return had turned Michael’s hands into magnets. He barely let her go since they walked out of Alex’s suite. She could not help but laugh when Michael only allowed the photographer two minutes of individual photos before he pulled Raven back into his arms. It was not as if she minded one bit, she had so missed this, missed his touch. It was addicting. 

“You stare at me any harder, I’m gonna combust,” she joked as they sat in the back of his limo, Raven leaning into his side as she had done so many times before. . 

“My bad, my bad. I’m just fuckin’ shocked you’re here.” He weaved his fingers among hers, bringing her hand into his lips. “You know I’m gonna spend everyday making all this shit up to you, right?” 

“I know and I also know it’s unnecessary. I won’t lie, I’m still hurt and confused by what happened. But I know we can fix it. I don’t need you to feel guilty for the rest of our relationship either.”  

“The rest of our lives,” he softly corrected with a playful shove to her shoulder that made her giggle. Fuck he missed that sound, missed her smile.

“The rest of our lives,” she repeated. “I just need you to love me. That’s it.” 

“That’s a given, baby girl.” 

She leaned over and pecked him softly on the lips before settling back in his arms. 

“So… Can I read your speech?” she asked sweetly, knowing there was a terribly crumbled piece of paper stuffed into his jacket pocket. 

“Nope.” 

Raven immediately pouted, putting on the playful sad puppy eyes that always got to him. 

“Those ain’t gon’ work today, baby. But only cause I can’t show you a speech I don’t have.” 

Raven’s eyebrows creased in confusion, immediately assuming that his lack of a prepared speech meant he did not think he would win. How could he think such a thing? 

“Michael… You know you’re gonna win. And you’ve scripted all the others. Why didn’t you write one for tonight? I can jot you something down real quick?” she immediately started to look around as if her cell-phone-sized clutch was big enough to secretly contain a pen and paper. “Allen!” She leaned toward the front. “Do you have any paper? Spare receipt?” 

“Baby, BABY!” Michael called, gripping her hips to guide her back to her seat and calm her panic. “I didn’t say I didn’t write one,” he clarified. “I said I don’t have it. I just realized that… the scripted speeches are not what I want tonight. Need a different direction. So I gave the speech to Alex before we left.” 

Though Raven could guess the reason for a sudden need for a new direction in the 11th hour. But she still found herself asking anyway. “Any reason for this different direction?” 

“Just think I should speak from the heart if I win, you know? Like I did in that interview. If I get to go on that stage tonight, wanna do it as the man I’ve become. Dunno if I have your way with words, though. Not nervous about losing but I’m nervous about fuckin’ up up there, not sayin’ the right thing, you know? Or everyone hating it?” 

Raven’s eyes softened a bit, always appreciating this vulnerable side of him. She knew how difficult and painful it had been to reveal that side to her and to the world. But she knew he was better for it. 

“You don’t need my way with words, baby. You just need yours and yours is poetic, it’s kind a-and loving and true. That isn’t a new direction o-or a new man, Michael. It’s just you. Every moment I’ve known you, that’s just you. You just let me see it and I’m so grateful for it. And you’ve let the world see glimpses of it in the last few months a-and if the response is any indication, the world is grateful too. You’re not nervous about saying the wrong thing. Going out there without the armor you’ve built to protect yourself is just scary. But it’s worth it. You taught me that. Don’t think about the right or wrong words. Just what you want to say about this moment. Whatever words you have will be right.” 

“Feel like you got more poetic on me since January.” 

Raven chuckled and shook her head. “Still only minimally poetic… and I can’t take credit for that one.” But she stopped herself before she said more. Now did not feel like the best moment to drop emotional bombs. 

“We’re here, Mr. Jordan. About three cars in front of us,” Allen called out from the front seat. 

He glanced at Raven, her eyes suddenly swimming with panic that he could tell she desperately wanted to swallow. He could almost see the realization hit her like a wall. She was about to walk out into the public eye for the first time in months at Hollywood’s most significant night of the year. And Michaell had been so elated to have her back that he had not considered how emotionally overwhelming that had to be. 

Raven was determined to hide it as best and long as she could. Tonight was all about Michael and his career. And she had accepted being in the public eye when she decided to go back to him. She knew it would be difficult but he was worth it. They were worth the sacrifice. But her brain assaulted her with every possible name she would be called, the headlines that would materialize tomorrow. And all of that would reflect poorly on him. What if she ruined his life… again?

“Hey, hey, Rae. Baby girl. Look at me,” his hands gently framed her face to force her eyes to him. “Don’t worry about them. It’s just you and me, aight? Tonight’s ours. The first night of the rest of our lives, showing up 100% in our truth. None of this other shit matters. So just focus on me. I won’t let you go, I promise.” 

“Just you and me,” she repeated, nodding slightly. 

And with that, he opened the limo door, standing tall as crowds shouted his name and the chaotic sounds of the carpet filled their ears. 

First night of the rest of our lives. And she was ready. 

***

Though she had not been to many award shows with Michael thus far, she learned one key thing. They were just as boring as they looked on tv except when you were the date of a popular nominee, you did not have the luxury of letting that boredom show. 

Will my jaw ever recover, she wondered as it ached from smiling through three hours of devastatingly mediocre jokes and long-winded speeches. At least the carpet was exciting and thrilling, as daunting as it was. In fact, the carpet was actually fun for the first time.

The chaotic jungle was its usual frantic chaotic place, not any different than she expected. But perhaps it merely felt different because she and Michael were so different from who they were the last time they were out together. They had stripped themselves bare and had shed their armor. They were standing decidedly in their truth and the immense love they shared. And that felt like a new world.

And she noticed so much more than her self-pitied colored glasses allowed her to see. Every protective touch, every studious glance to ensure she was still smiling and well, the well-timed playful remarks or jokes he whispered in her ear right when her nerves started to encroach, every gentle kiss that still held his endless passion for her. She finally saw it all and felt it. And it was everything. 

Michael straightened up next to her, pulling Raven out of her own daydreams. Robert Downey Jr. made his way to the middle of the stage, an envelope labeled Best Actor printed boldly across it. 

She tightened her grip on Michael’s hand. She had a good feeling about this. 

“A leading man is more than an attractive face, though I’m sure every woman would agree that all five men in this category have that quality in common as well. But what they also have in common is vulnerability, empathy, and the courage to search for the humanity and depth of their characters to embody their wants, their fears, their grief, their sorrow boldly and bravely. These five performances are exemplary and remind us all just what a leading man is. Here are the nominees for Best Actor in a Motion Picture.” 

The room dimmed ever so slightly as the reel started to play, the seconds that passed felt more like hours as they watched snippets of each performance. Michael’s was last, Raven’s free hand gently rubbing his arm as she felt his nerves finally kick in. She was impressed he only felt them now, she would have been an utter mess all evening.

“And the winner is…” the Marvel actor did a little fist pump that immediately gave the winner away, deafening applause almost drowning out his name. “Michael B. Jordan, Waves.” 

Michael’s head fell into his hand for a moment, genuine shock coursing through him. He had convinced himself that he would not win to minimize the disappointment. But he had not really considered how it would feel to actually win? To actually receive this honor. And it was more than he could have hoped it would be. 

Raven pulled him into her arms as they stood, tears swimming in her eyes. 

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered before he kissed her. 

He honestly would have been fine to simply revel in this moment in her arms but he knew the clock was ticking on his speech.

He finally let her go and jogged up the stairs, giving RDJ a hug before stepping in front of the mic. The entire theater was still on their feet applauding and cheering as he stared out into the crowd. 

“Wow. Thank you so much for this. As a kid from New Jersey, you just don't really ever expect your dreams to take off like this, to end up in a place like this. This is just… more than I could’ve ever dreamed for myself. So thank you. There are a million people for me to thank and not enough time before they play me off. My family and friends, my team and manager, the cast and crew who poured their hearts and souls into this film… Without all of you, I wouldn’t have made it here tonight and I’m grateful for your constant support.” 

He glanced down at the trophy in his hand before continuing. “Umm… But there’s one person I do want to thank though and that is the love of my life, Raven Turner. When I look at you, all I can think of is how rewarding it is to be loved by you, to be chosen by you. That makes every day feel like I’ve just won an Oscar. I feel so blessed to be given the opportunity to love you, to stand in your light, and to live everyday working to be the man worthy of your love. Getting to share this moment with you goes beyond anything I could’ve imagined. Thank you for seeing me for all that I am and loving me for it. Thank you for falling with me, baby and I hope I make every day of our lives together worth it.” 

She knew that the tears that streamed down her face were not attractive or good for the camera that was surely about to pan to her but she could not have hoped to care. 

“I love you,” she mouthed though she doubted he could even see her from up there. 

“I love you. Thank you!” He held the statue up in his hand before turning and walking off stage, his standing ovation renewing. 

***

Michael wanted to laugh at how Raven stretched her body like an adorable kitten after sleeping like the literal dead for most of the daylight hours. He did not blame her, they did not stumble back into his house until after 4 am. Once the show ended, the pair bounced from after party to after party drinking, smoking, and dancing the night away. He had not had that much fun at industry events and parties in so long. And it had been so much fun that he was *almost* sad it was over, a perfect final night of an insane run in his career. 

But then he remembered that closing that chapter meant he could focus his attention on the perfect and hopelessly exhausted woman rousing in his arms. They could heal without the distractions of events and the public eye. They could build their lives together officially. The joy of that instinctively caused him to pull her into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of her head. 

“Mornin’ baby,” he whispered, his gruff voice filling her ears as Raven slowly opened her eyes.  

Peace and contentment gently glided through her frame like a light summer’s breeze, easing all the aches and pains she had felt before. She had missed this… falling asleep snuggled in his arms, wrapped lovingly and tightly in his scent. She would have been inclined not to move until she caught a glimpse of the time on his iPad. 

She let out a soft gasp as she tried to shoot up, shocked at how late she slept. However, his tight grip stopped her from lifting much beyond her head and chest. 

“You gotta let me go, baby. We should get up. It’s almost 3 pm… sorry, don’t even know how I slept that fucking late. I know you got shit to do.” 

“We had a late night and there ain’t shit to do today. And if there had been, I would’ve told you. Rest.” 

She used the back of her hand to rub her eyes as she glanced at him, studying how his eyes returned to a script on his iPad that was highlighted to death. She merely rolled her eyes. Of course he would be working right after the biggest night of his career. 

“How long have you been up?” 

“Since 11 or so?” he shrugged. “Figured I’d relax and read some scripts my team pulled for Outliers. Been so crazy, they’ve just been piling up. Grabbed a snack bout an hour ago and made you some tea but it’s definitely cold. I can make you more if you want.” 

“Why didn’t you wake me??” 

He merely shrugged with his unbothered charm, his hand gently rubbing her back, which lulled her into laying her head down on his chest again despite her brain’s alarm bells to get up.

How am I so tired?? She wondered as her eyes threatened to fall shut again. All her body wanted to do was fall asleep in his arms.  

“When you didn’t even move when I got up, it seemed like you needed the rest. And still do.”  

“I’m good.” 

“Those bags under your eyes say otherwise.”

“I know you ain’t talking…” she offered back, glancing pointedly at the equally stark dark circles under his eyes. 

“Touche. But no actor gets enough sleep. Early call times, global press tours, events and after parties. It’s the name of the game. You haven’t been taking care of yourself?” His annotation was that of a question but they both knew the answer. “How much sleep you been getting since we-” Michael stopped himself, the words he held back still hanging heavily in the air. There was still so much they still had to discuss, wounds that were still unhealed and unresolved. 

While Michael thought Raven was always stunning, he could not ignore the obvious toll the events of late had taken on his girl. He thought it had just been emotional but he had not seen her long enough to notice the physical strain his actions had caused too. And while she had told him not to feel guilty, he did. So he was not going to wake her up or bother her when it was clear she required a reset. And while he would always adore her for rallying for him last night, today was a new day. And she deserved to be catered to and have someone take care of her for a change. 

“Couple hours a night… Between the break up and the paparazzi during the first couple weeks… and then all the shit on social media, I was just on edge 24/7, my brain couldn’t shut off long enough to sleep… or sleep well. I had some old sleeping pills I used some nights when I was desperate but… it was hard not to think about everything over and over and over again. And then wallow in it.” 

“You stopped eating too? You lost weight.” 

Raven chuckled. “You know most men wouldn’t have a problem with their girlfriend losing a couple pounds. Wasn’t like I didn’t need to.” 

“You’re fuckin’ sexy at any weight but I gotta problem with anything that means you ain’t taking care of yourself. Especially when it’s my fault.” 

“I didn’t do it on purpose and it’s no one’s fault. I just… didn’t really have an appetite a lot. But that’s starting to come back. I’m fine, Michael. Truly. We’re still celebrating you, can’t end that early just to fuss over little ole me.” 

Michael knew she wanted him to pretend he believed her for the sake of not discussing this right now. But what was the point in that? He would not pretend he had not been terrified for her. That he was not still terrified at how all of this had worn her down. And he knew it was not just what he did, it had just been the final straw in a life-long list of painful experiences. But one thing Raven had always had when he looked at her was hope, even if the flame was as small as a dying candle. There was always an air about her that let him know she genuinely believed things would get better one day. 

But when he saw her at her apartment, the night at that bar? That was gone, completely extinguished. Her eyes, his favorite part of her, held nothing but sorrow. He would not be able to live with himself if he ever saw that look in her eyes again. 

“You aren’t fine, Rae. I know that shit. And I’m allowed to worry about you. I mean shit, how you looked after that video was bad enough. Then the bar?? Not gon’ forget that shit happened just cause we’re back together. And I’m not gon’ pretend you’re fine when you aren’t either. You’re not gonna keep sweeping your needs under the rug. We can lay here all day and sleep if that’s what you need.”

“You have better things to do, Mr. Academy Award Winner then watch me sleep. I can take care of myself.” 

“What if I like watching you sleep??” 

“Then that would be kinda endearing and… kinda creepy?” she mused. “But mostly endearing.” Not that she would ever admit it but she enjoyed watching him sleep too. 

“Well I might be creepy then,” he admitted. He did genuinely love watching her sleep, when she was in his arms, there was just a rare peace about her that he loved to see. “The outside world has gotten too much of me lately. Now, the only thing I wanna do is take care of you. Not cause you can’t do that shit yourself but because you shouldn’t have to. Everyone needs to be taken care of and I’m not letting the next 30 years go by without you knowing what that feels like. Now you’re gonna feel it. Every single day. Rest, Raven.”

His words tumbled through her brain as she stared at him for a moment, her eyes brimming with tears. She was exhausted and not just physically. But of carrying the weight of every problem on her shoulders, of being alone in crafting solutions. She was so often consumed by pure survival and it had made her resourceful and smart. There was not a problem that life threw at her that Raven had not figured out a way through. She was stuck in survivor mode 24/7. But the problem with survival is that it was an all-consuming task. There’s no opportunity… no room to rest. And no one to take on the burdens for her so she could. 

“I just haven’t h-had anyone… who cared enough to worry… in a long time, no one willing to share the load,” she offered simply, sniffling lightly. “Until you hired David… I didn’t think you cared what happened to me after we… I ended things.” 

“I did. I do.” His hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb whisking away the tears that slowly fell. “Fuck, I thought about you every minute of the damn day, Rae. You had me over here losing my damn mind. I care… I love you so much, it fucking killed me. And scared me. And I deserved it, to worry and stress and flip shit because I fucked up… I hurt you.”

“You did. But it wasn’t just you. Life’s been shit before and I could always, you know, keep going? It was just the final blow to the little bit of hope I had? And I just didn’t see the point in getting back up again. That was my best… the bare minimum needed to keep breathing. The heartache… I knew I could get over that eventually. One day in the far fucking future, I could… would force myself to get over you. Or just accept that I could never have you. It was the ache of losing hope that killed me. It was like my soul ached? And there were moments, like the night of your premiere, that I just thought that would never heal?” 

“So you got wasted? To forget?” 

She chuckled. “Alcohol is a great temporary solution. When you’re that low… shit gets desperate,” she admitted. “Anything to numb the pain for a short while. But it always comes back.” 

“How often?” 

“Rarely and that was the worst night, I promise. Honestly, wasn’t sure I’d ever want to touch alcohol again after that.”  

“And now? How do you feel?” 

“The wounds in my heart still need mending but every second back with you has healed parts of my soul. I’m… not ok,” she admitted, Michael immediately empathizing with how difficult it was for her to say those words. “You’re right… it doesn’t just go away. But I will be ok.” 

He nodded. “I know you will be. I’m gonna make sure of it. Raven… look, I know this shit is scary, giving up control when you’ve been the one driving for so long, the one responsible for everything for so long. But I’m here, I’m not going anywhere and I’m not gonna let go again. It’s safe to let someone else behind the wheel for a while. Rest for me, baby girl. Please. 

As if she was light as a feather, he shifted her so her body laid on top of his chest, his strong arms anchoring her in that spot. She buried her face in the nape of his neck, breathing in the perfect scent that her heart recognized as him. 

Even as her body resumed its pliant posture in his arms, Raven realized she did not want rest. No, she wanted to feel him in the very depths of her. She knew they had to talk, knew there were conversations to be had. But fuck, she could not wait. She wanted to revel in this moment, of finally being with someone who genuinely loved her and cared. And she needed to feel it on a cellular level. 

Raven forced herself to sit up, quickly straddling his hips and giving him a quick but tantalizing grind against him. That turned his frown into a mischievous grin, though she could still see the concern in his eyes. 

“This is the opposite of rest, baby girl.” 

“I’ll rest as long as you want after. I need you.” 

“We still got a lot to talk about, Rae. I just don’t want you to get caught up in the moment ‘n not really want this yet. ‘N I…” Raven should have been put off the pure animalistic look simmering in his eyes. But instead it just made the desire grow stronger, long tentacles stretching out to every pleasure zone in her body. Demanding he touch, bite, slap, caress… literally do anything to satiate her. “I’m not sure what you need, what we both need.”  

Her palms cupped his face, guiding his eyes to hers. “Then don’t be sure. I love that you take care of me, Michael. But taking care of me isn’t having the perfect thing to say or do for me. Sometimes, it’s just being you and figuring it out as we go. I know I need you. And that’s what I want, to feel every part of you… whatever you have to give me. And everything we need to talk about will still be here when you’re done with me.”

And with her permission, the reins holding him back evaporated and he pounced. Raven was on her back before she could blink, Michael capturing her lips, reminding her of the dominance she missed. And desperately craved it.  

“Tell me what you need, baby,” he whispered in her ear.

“Everything. All of you.” 

Michael would happily oblige. He licked his lips as he stared down at her. Where would he even start? 

Some part of him wanted to render her utterly immobile as he usually did. But a more significant part of him just wanted to savor her. Wanted to feel everything she had to offer and bask in having her back with him. And while he loved the fast-paced dominant sex they were used to, it did not always allow for that. And he knew in his heart that they both needed more than fast and furious today.

His hands gently ran up the smooth skin of her thighs, gathering the oversized t-shirt on her frame in his hands and sliding it off. Her nipples pebbled slightly at the cold air against her warm skin. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. You know that shit right?” he asked as he pressed soft kisses against her neck. 

“Y-yes,” she whispered, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot before moving down to her collarbone. 

“You know how much I love you? What I’d do for you?” he continued a slow but intentional path down her body, lingering on her chest as he engulfed each of her nipples between his lips. He took his time there, remembering how much she enjoyed nipple play. His mind called back to the numerous times he put clamps on them. His tongue licked her nipples, Raven whimpering and squirming beneath his hot mouth.

Soon, they would reacquaint themselves with those roles, he thought. If she was up for it.

Her body was ablaze as his lips and tongue found their home on every inch of her skin he could get to. Down he trekked, only slowing when he got to the paradise between her thighs. He knew her inner thighs were a weak spot, something he learned long long ago. He knew it was the teasing that got to her, being so close to where she needed pleasure the most but not exactly there yet. 

“Fuck I missed this,” he whispered. “Those little moans you make, how I make you squirm and beg and plead. The taste of you on my tongue.” 

“Michael… please,” she whimpered. “I need…” the words were lost on her, her brain was no longer in the decision-making business. Her body, the pleasure sensors that lived beneath the surface of her skin guided every feeling, every filthy thought, every base desire and need. “C-Can’t wait.” 

He lifted his head from between her thighs, his breath teasing her core with heat that turned her into putty in his hands. She could not wait, she needed to be connected to him. To feel their bodies become one again in the most intimate and carnal way. 

“You trust me, baby?” 

“With my life,” she answered truthfully. 

While his actions had shaken that trust, when it boiled down to it, she would never trust her body with anyone as she did with Michael. She was his and he had never harmed her or made her regret handing over the reins to her pleasure to him. He had proven himself worthy of it tenfold. 

“Then trust that Imma take care of you, princess. Always.” 

Princess… fuck was it possible for her heart to literally explode? Or for her to be anymore wet than she already was? 

His poor sheets, she mused. 

He resituated her legs on his shoulders and grinned up at her as he continued nipping at her inner thighs, Raven’s soft moans only spurring him on. She was already a mess… a delicious, delectable mess to be sure, her juices glistening and begging him to lick, suck… devour her. 

“Fuck… all this for me, baby?” he smiled as his kisses and bites grew closer and closer to where she desired, where she needed his touch the most. 

“Y-yes…” Her body had missed him more than she realized. 

“I missed you.” And with that short statement, devour her, he did. 

Bliss. 

Ecstasy. 

Fucking nirvana. 

He made her feel all of it with one masterful flick of his tongue against her bud, her back arching off his mattress and a guttural moan rising from her belly. He proved within minutes that he had not forgotten, forgotten what buttons to push, what spots to focus his attention, how she liked to be pleasured. 

He did not let up or come up for air as  his mouth savored every inch of her that he could, spelling out his adoration and love for her - not with his words - but with his tongue and his two fingers buried in her heat. There was a sensual pace to it that she was not used to with him. Typically, sex was deliciously punishing and unyielding. It was rooted in his care and gentleness for her but the pace left no time to breathe. Not that she minded. 

But today? He took particular care, the march up to her peak was tantalizingly slow but perfect all the same. There was no rush between them, despite Raven’s original desire to fit almost 2 months of lost time into this one moment. But Michael understood that they had time. There was no invisible clock, nothing rushing them. He could savor the little gasps of pleasure when he sucked her clit gently, the way her legs clamped around his head when she was close, how her pussy clenched around his fingers as he increased his speed to exactly where she liked, how her hips rocked to meet every thrust. 

Every plea, every moan, every scream for more. He wanted to hear all of it. And he wanted her to savor the feeling of being taken care of, because she would need to learn to get used to it. He could do this every day, more than once a day to be honest. 

“So… close,” her moans grew louder and louder as he took her to the edge of the cliff of pleasure. 

She allowed herself to fall as she felt the pleasure in her belly snap. Her mouth simply remained agape with a breathless scream on her lips as she fell into the depths of ecstasy. The crash didn’t feel like one at all, but a soft landing as he continued his ministrations against her clit, drawing out her orgasm for as long as he could. And it was pure bliss, warm waves of pleasure continuing to crash over her until he finally extracted himself from between her legs. 

“That was…” Being at a loss for words was commonplace when they fucked. But Michael understood as he pressed his lips to hers, allowing her to taste herself briefly. 

“Fuck!” she cried out as he immediately started to sheathe himself inside her, a welcomed surprise. She tried to hide it as her face screwed for a split second, her body becoming reacquainted with his girth and size. The stretch he provided today in particular, given their stint apart, was a short-lived sting of pain that managed to take her breath away. 

He immediately stilled. 

“Talk to me, Rae. You good?” 

Her eyes were still shut tight as she waited for a moment for her to get used to him again. So she merely nodded. 

“Words, baby.” 

“Y-Yea I’m good. J-just been a minute a-and you surprised me.” She let out a content sigh as pain gave way to mind numbing pleasure, giving him the directive to move. “A-and t-that’s not… fair,” she moaned. “W-wanted… to taste… you too.” She wanted to force her lips into a playful pout but the only facial expressions her muscles could conjure up were those of passion and pleasure. 

“Next time, princess.” He sucked on the soft skin of her neck as he drove into her. 

Raven could only see the darkness of the back of her head as her eyes rolled back with every rock forward of his hips, sending his dick right into her g-spot. His thrusts were relentless, Raven’s nails digging into his back as she held onto him for dear life. 

“Fuck… I-I love you,” she panted, unable to form any other real sentences worth anything. That was all that needed to be said in her mind. 

“Say it again,” he demanded, gently biting her neck as her declaration of love only spurred him on. He grabbed her legs and pulled her ankles to his shoulders. 

“I love… FUCK! Fuckkkkk, j-just like that!” She cried out, abandoning the words originally on her lips for completely incoherent ramblings of a woman who was being split into two but loved every single second of it. 

Did he just kill me?? Am I dead?? Because this no longer felt of this world? No human being should be allowed to experience this sort of pleasure. Or be able to give it… was the man above her even human? 

“You feel so good, baby. You like how I’m fuckin’ this pussy??”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck I love it so much. Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” 

Stopping?? An utterly foreign concept to him at that moment. And he did not. Raven barely could breath as Michael moved her into position after position, fucking her into oblivion. 

Tears sprang to her eyes as he fucked her from behind, his teeth biting gently into the skin of her neck.

“Where you want it, princess??” he demanded as he felt himself getting close. 

“Cum inside me,” she gasped, not wanting their union to end any sooner than it needed to. This was as close as they could get and for some part of her, it still was not close enough. 

More, more, more, her soul seemed to demand. More of him. 

“Don’t say that shit to me if you don’t mean it?” he warned, those few words causing a fever to settle over him, his hips snapping forward into her ass with a force that jolted her further into his mattress. 

“Please, baby,” she whined desperately, unable to find any other words to assure him that was what she wanted. 

Euphoric was the only word that came to mind as he pulled her flush to his chest and emptied his cum inside her. 

“Thank you, thank you,” she panted, her pussy clenching around him as he pumped in and out of her slowly.

Michael gently let her body fall into the mattress, Raven’s eyes already starting to flutter closed as he went to grab a warm towel. Another whimper escaped her lips as he cleaned her up. 

“That was… whew. I missed you.”

Michael did not bother putting his own clothes back on but instead slid into bed with her, cuddling her body against his. 

Of course now, sleep was not something Rave could avoid, her body spent as it always was after their time together. 

“ Give me an hour and then my legs will work again. And then I’m taking over,” she muttered as she yawned. 

He merely laughed and nodded, pressing his lips to her forehead. 

“Wouldn’t bet on it. I only made you cum four times.” 

Raven lifted her head to look at him incrediously. “Only four??? I can’t feel my legs, babe.” Her jaw dropped at the slight frown creasing his lips. “Oh my God… you’re actually upset,” she laughed. “You’re insane.” 

“I have a reputation to uphold, babe. Six minimum every time.” 

“If you wanna kill me, just say so,” she joked.

“Just tryin’ to put you to sleep without a fight,” he offered with a smile. “I give it five minutes before you’re out like a light.” 

“Very mischievous but effective.” 

Raven did not understand how she could even require more sleep, even after a palty (as Michael would complain) four orgasms. But he had accomplished his goal, her entire body was boneless and pliant in his hands. Everything in her told her she was finally home and safe to let go of everything else for the first time in her life. So she welcomed the coming rest, allowing her eyes to drift closed. However, before she fully gave in, she whispered. 

“You should rest too… you’ve been going and going since the top of the year. You’ve earned it too.” 

“Deal.” 

The life of an actor was defined by sleep deprivation so Michael had learned the important trait of falling asleep literally anywhere and anytime. Because his body was on his press tour schedule, he had felt wide awake after a few hours of rest this morning. But he knew if he closed his eyes for 5 minutes, he would pass out again. 

“I love you,” he offered quietly as he shifted them both so he was laying down again. 

“Not as much… as I love you,” she mumbled back as her eyes fluttered closed.

Tag list: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @majesticbrown @roguekiki @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154 @munchsa

***

A/N: Whew ok y'all do not know how much I agonized over this chapter LOL but our babies are backkkkkk and we have maybe two chapters left and an epilogue. Thanks so much for sticking by my slow writing ass. Drop a comment and let me know what you thought!

[recurring-polynya]

I have this love-hate relationship with whenever the Bleach anime tries to pad out canon events. On one hand: more world-building! Yay! I love world-building! On the other hand: it so often doesn't fit with/straight-up contradicts canon in a way that makes me insane. I know that usually when I get like this it means I've watched #46: The Worst Field-Trip Ever, but today I want to talk about

~The Lieutenants' Meeting from Bleach #227~

[rest under a cut because I am extremely Back On My Bullshit]

As you may know, the most precious chapter of Bleach (to me) is 0.side-B the rotator, the little flashback that appears in the middle of the Advance Team Arc (it's collected at the end of Vol 23) where we learn that Rukia's mission to Karakura was her first solo assignment and she was very nervous about it and didn't even tell Byakuya she was going, and also where Renji gets his promotion notice, but decides not to tell Rukia until she gets back. This was adapted not once, but twice by the anime, neither in the correct place.

The first time is in Episode 109, the final episode of the Bount arc. Even with 0.side-A the sand, it's not really long enough to make a full episode, but they intersperse it with some Kuchiki Manor hijinks and a bunch of Bount wrap-up stuff.

The second time, is episode 227, which is in the middle of the Fake Karakura town, although it's the first of a handful of standalone episodes and then the Zanpakutou Rebellion Arc, so I guess they were stalling for the manga to catch up. Anyway, it's completely re-animated for some reason, and the also added in Ch. 0.8, the Mizuiro flashback story and it still wasn't long enough, so they also threw in a Lieutenants' Meeting. This is exactly what I would do if I were a writer on the Bleach anime.

Bleach loves a Captains' Meeting, but Lieutenants' Meetings rarely merit screen time. There were two during the Soul Society invasion arc, but those both seemed to be pretty ad hoc emergency deals. There was a third one at the beginning of the Blood War that never got animated, which was also an emergency one, and had a distinct "hang out while the captains have their meeting" vibe.

So what does a normal, no-wartime-exemption Lieutenants' Meeting look like? Citizens (me) demand to know!

First of all, back up. One does not simply smash cut into a Lieutenants' Meeting. Apparently, each lieutenant brings a report to the meeting, which gets run by their captain first. It's unclear if it's required or just a courtesy. In any case, they give us this Goofus and Gallant style juxtaposition of Hinamori delivering her report to Aizen, along with some calligraphy she's done. This is followed by Hitsugaya tracking down Matsumoto by the smell of her booze and demanding the report (she was too drunk to write it and apparently also too drunk to go to the lieutenant's meeting).

Okay, now we can go to the meeting! It's held at Squad 1.

Hinamori is...late. I would not expect Hinamori to be a person who is habitually late, but then I remembered that she was late to a meeting and knew a short-cut that time she found Aizen's fake corpse, so maybe she is habitually late. I suppose it's possible that Aizen dawdled over approving her report, but it's also very funny to me that a good half of the lieutenants have executive dysfunction, so I am going to assume that Hinamori is one of those people who is ready 20 minutes early but it's too early to leave and then she gets distracted and ends up 5 minutes late.

Back to the meeting!

Holy moly, it's the same room that they used for the Soul Society Invasion Lieutenants' meeting! Remember this place?

It's got the green paneling, the white-with-gold-diamonds frieze, the criss-cross windows that Renji jumped out of once, and the map of the Seireitei. Also, a drop ceiling with elementary school style fluorescent lighting, apparently!

The most exciting part, though, is this fantastic purple table and chairs. Obviously they need this because the Lieutenants' Meeting also features snacks, which is noted have been provided by Oomaeda. (Do you think he always brings snacks because he's rich and loves snacks, or do they have a rotation??) Perplexingly, since this flashback takes place before the Soul Society Invasion, did they...did they move the table and chairs out for the Emergency Meeting? So that it would look more serious??? Like. That is a big table. That would take some effort.

Aside: The room doesn't actually look like this in the manga versions of the Soul Society Invasion arc meetings. It's got the wood paneling, but the windows are different and it doesn't have any other details. However, it does look like this during the TYBW meeting. I guess maybe Kubo liked it and adopted the design??

Back to the meeting at hand!: Sasakibe gives Hinamori some grief for being late. Matsumoto's absence is noted and attributed to being hungover, which leads to Iba complaining about his hangover.

This is so unserious. I love it. I love all of them.

We skip back to Karakura Town for a bit, but when we come back, it is business time. Isane is reading her report to the group. Anyway, first order of business: Karakura Town needs a new resident officer. Apparently the previous officer was from Squad 4, but had to be relieved due to "cramps." The reporting is sort of directed toward Sasakibe, but it's not very formal because we keep getting interruptions from the peanut gallery, which is to say that Kira and Oomaeda then start arguing about cramps. There is definitely the vibe that Kira hates sitting next to Oomaeda and is willing to throw hands about anything.

Anyway! Kiyone volunteers Rukia for the position on behalf of her captain, and Sasakibe goes for it. Importantly, we get a loving close-up of my beloved Seireitei map.

More importantly, all of this is bullshit. Squad 4 doesn't station people in the World of the Living (except for Hanatarou that time). Karakura Town is Squad 13's turf, it has been since Isshin's day:

I don't even know what the anime was going for here. We've already met Kurumadani (Afro-san) by this point. I guess they wanted to have a reason to discuss this at the Lieutenants' Meeting? I guess so Hinamori and Kira would have this information to tell Renji later?? This really could have been smoother, Bleach anime!!

Let's move on to the next order of business, which is...Renji's promotion! Actually, first, let's consider a shot of the room from a different angle:

In case it wasn't obvious earlier, everyone sits around the table in numerical order. I'm honestly a little worried about that back corner with Hinamori, Renji and Iba and Hisagi across from them. Troublemaker corner. They got Nanao back there, to keep them from cutting up, I spose. Yachiru is asleep. Matsumoto still hasn't shown up (nor will she, in case you were hoping).

Anyway, Isane announces that "the Captains' Meeting has chosen Abarai Renji, Sixth Seat of Squad 11." a) of all, why is this part of Isane's report?? And why isn't Shirogane here, anyway? You would think Squad Six would require a transition plan, but I guess he just noped out and left Byakuya in the lurch. (Real reason is likely because that would have required them to remember what Shirogane looks like and get him a voice actor. If the Bleach anime loved me, they would have done these things). AHEM! Also, what is this "the Captains' Meeting has chosen" bullshit? Captains choose their lieutenants, which Aizen mentions while gloating over Shinji in TBTP, and then Kyouraku brings up again when he bullies Central into letting him have two lieutenants. It is extremely funny to think about the other captains saddling Byakuya with Renji. They would never let the captains have a PVP mode, though, their hate game is worse than Tumblr's. I will be generous and say that perhaps what Isane meant is that it was announced at the Captains' Mtg, and since all the captains canonically love Renji, no one had any objections.

All the vice-captains love Renji, too--this announcement is met with delighted gasps. Wait, no, Oomada hates Renji:

I unironically love this, mostly because it sets up the Renji-Oomaeda beef from Diamond Dust Rebellion where Renji calls him an otter-face.

Oomaeda claims that Renji is "a punk" and "will scar the name of the Gotei-13." Granted, Renji does commit treason shortly thereafter, so he's not exactly wrong. No one cares though and Yachiru starts drawing on his head halfway through this rant.

And that's it! Altogether, this took less than 5 minutes of screen time, but hopefully this was very helpful and informative if you, like me, love to write fanfiction about lieutenants' meetings. Don't forget to include snacks!!

[wangxianficfinder]

Marriage of Convenience

~*~

what price is duty, what cost is love by thunderwear (G, 18k, wangxian, canon divergence, WWX was never adopted to Jiang, war prize, YLLZ WWX, pining, first kiss, first time, falling in love, angst w/ happy ending)

seldom all they seem by Fahye (E, 25k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, or rather Arranged Betrothal, followed by Weapons-Grade Thirst)

💖🔒 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, but sorry kids! it’s gonna happen!, rated E but the the NSFW stuff doesn’t begin until chapter 19!, bottom LWJ in chapter 20 and 27)

Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

🔒 As It Should Be by kuro (M, 36k, WangXian, Slow Burn, Arranged Marriage, Fluff and Angst, Miscommunication, Dubious Consent, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Siblings, Running Away from your problems, as adults do, Eventual Fluff)

True Gold Fears No Fire by defractum (nyargles) (M, 82k, WangXian, Royalty AU, Ancient China, Wuxia, Historical Inaccuracy, Arranged Marriage, Identity Porn, Mutual Pining, Emperor!LWJ, empress!wwx, Eventual Happy Ending, Misunderstandings)

travelers through the empty gate by stiltonbasket (M, 112k, WangXian, royalty au, mistaken identity, emperor WWX, poor LWJ, forced marriage, (by LWJ himself), confused WWX, parenthood, misunderstandings, empress LWJ, fluff & humor, married life, angst w/ happy ending, WIP)

我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 84k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan)

much sweeter than by mellowflicker (T, 3k, WangXian, Royalty-ish AU, Arranged Marriage, a little bit of YLLZ WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending)

The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 70k, WangXian, Modern AU, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Kid Fic, explicit in much much later chapters, green card marriage (but not really), pining for your own husband, endless pining, Slow Burn, Happy Ending, Nothing else bad or traumatic happens to the baby, [Podfic of] The Simplest Way Forward by knight_tracer)

~*~

[maryu-fics06]

The Casket of Venus

Chapter 1

𝐕𝐞����𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐱 𝐨𝐜

Summery: Haydee becomes one of Geta’s concubines.

If you like please follow and comments and leave a heart!❤️

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fake blood,gore, death of a character, no smut yet, both characters are adults over 20.

The banquet was bustling with guests, and the imperial palace celebrated Armilustrium in honor of the god Mars, the Roman “𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐬,” for the return of General Acacius, who had conquered Numidia.

The two emperors sat on their ivory thrones. Caracalla seemed in good spirits as he watched one of his concubines play with him and pour his wine.

Geta watched everything, bored, while a senator next to him spoke of politics and the old meeting he had attended the week before.

Then a noble merchant entered the grand royal hall with a group of women, all veiled, as though their beauty were gold.

Everyone's attention-guests and twin emperors alike-was immediately captured.

"My dear emperors! From a rich journey to the colonies of Magna Graecia, Trinacria, I have found various treasures, and I wish to offer them to you."

The man stepped forward and took hold of the first woman. Her white veil shifted, revealing golden locks at the abrupt movement.

Her face was unveiled, and a sound of astonishment swept through the banquet—even the oldest senators and the most stoic guards were struck.

She had a body worthy of a goddess or nymph—full curves, rounded hips, firm thighs visible beneath the white tunic, and soft breasts highlighted by a neckline clearly chosen to show them off.

Wheat-colored hair adorned her head, and her face was a delight: a pointed nose, full lips, rosy cheeks, and eyes the color of a sea blended with forest green.

She looked like 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬—descended to Earth from Olympus to witness the miserable lives of mortals.

Geta was struck, while Caracalla appeared bored and continued sipping his wine.

The younger emperor stood up and descended the few steps of black marble.

The merchant smiled slyly, like a worm, and bowed.

He grabbed the woman by the head and pushed her down in a show of virtue, but the emperor's voice growled out with threatening authority:

"Take your 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 off her."

The merchant obeyed immediately, fearing for his life. The girl remained still as the emperor circled her like a lion eyeing a lamb. For the first time, he felt truly captivated by a woman.

Haydee looked down, finding the marble floor more interesting than the evil curiosity around her. She prayed to Athena for courage and not to succumb to fear.

Her body trembled as a rough hand grabbed her face. Her eyes met two black pearls in the shadow-but for a moment, molten amber gleamed in the light.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart pounded violently in her chest.

"Tell me your name."

The emperor's hoarse voice snapped her out of her thoughts. It wasn't a request-it was a command.

Her voice, delicate like honey, slipped from her lips, and the emperor seemed enchanted.

"𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐞, my emperor."

The Greek accent was clear in her voice.

Geta stared at her for a few seconds, then ordered nearby servants to bathe her and take her to his chambers. Haydee followed them without a word.

Meanwhile, the emperor approached a Praetorian guard, unsheathed the soldier's sword, and the metallic scent filled the air. The other slaves screamed in terror at the horrifying scene.

Haydee could only hear gargling sounds-then silence. Bile rose in her throat as she saw the merchant's body on the ground, bathed in his own blood.

Caracalla burst out laughing, clapping his hands like a child with a new toy.

"Clever move, brother!" he snigger, flashing a golden tooth.

Haydee walked alongside the two servants, horrified, as they left the banquet. The palace felt like the labyrinth of Knossos-but there was no Minotaur, nor a Theseus ready to save an Arianne who had left him her red thread.

No-here, there was a lion.

A lion ready to devour her.

The woman's blue eyes widened at the sight of the grand Roman baths. She was helped out of her clothes and slowly entered the warm, oil-scented water. Her hair and body were washed. She felt like a doll-clean and pertumed now.

Once bathed, she was escorted into a regal chamber of red marble streaked with gold. A large bed stood in the center. A table beside it was piled with scrolls, and to the left, a white velvet triclinium adorned the room. There was even a balcony.

It was the emperor's chamber-clear from the many weapons on the walls and a magnificent golden armor mounted above. He was a warlord, after all.

Alone in the center of the room, Haydee sighed. She prayed to Zeus, seeking answers, but silence filled the space, leaving only more doubts in the poor woman's mind.

Why had the gods chosen this fate for her?

Why her, to serve the emperor?

Why such a heavy burden?

Was her death near?

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Hi guys! I hope the first Chapter was to your liking, I'm quite excited, many friends told me to publish this story and I want to share this with everyone.

@jayden-killer ( my partner in crime)

[painted-flag]

A DRUNKARD'S PATHOS - aegon targaryen

☾⋆⁺₊✧ elf!Aegon Targaryen Series

☾⋆⁺₊✧ Sequel book to 'Of Flowers and Death' but can be read as a standalone.

☾⋆⁺₊✧ Summary:

Following the advice of his good sister – the new elf Queen and Aemond’s wife – Aegon is sent on a journey of self-discovery across the kingdom's lands. Seeing it as an opportunity to drink his way through all the pubs and taverns that exist in their kingdom, he embarks on his travels. 

However, he finds himself enraptured in the foreboding mystery of a town that holds more secrets than its number of residents. The most alluring of all is a barmaid, Arlina, whose turbulent past forces him to reckon with his own. In the wake of a personal metamorphosis, Aegon finds his connection to Arlina as a means to the end of his struggles.

Yet, the secrets that lured him begin to close in and want for blood.

Arlina wishes to escape every notion of her past self, forcing her life into a cycle of monotony. With a few close friends, she lives in relative peace. On the eve of one night, the prince Aegon comes into her town and inadvertently causes an upheaval of change; in both her and the lives of others around her. 

A violent past, a secret dark magic organization, and the beating hearts of two stubborn, sorrowful elves circle the cursed town at the edge of the world. 

Can also be found on AO3, right here.

☾⋆⁺₊✧ Chapters:

Chapter 1: The Drunken Fool Chapter 2: The Merry Maiden Tavern Chapter 3: Nightmares Chapter 4: A Proper Peasant Chapter 5: The Last Harvest Chapter 6: A Body at the Edge of the Woods Chapter 7: An Investigation Begins Chapter 8: Peculiar Markings, Peculiar Cave Chapter 9: Just Friends Chapter 10: Nowhere Is Safe Chapter 11: On the Road Again Chapter 12: More Valuable Than Gold Chapter 13: The Queen's Advice Chapter 14: A Startling Revelation Chapter 15: Back to Orilon Chapter 16: Imprisoned Chapter 17: Denial Chapter 18: A Beautiful Sacrifice Chapter 19: Run, Little Lamb Chapter 20: A Final Deal Epilogue: Terminus

☾⋆⁺₊✧ Content warning: 18+ Smut, depictions of gore/violence, alcoholism, PTSD and anxiety attacks.

☾⋆⁺₊✧: Ah! I'm so excited to roll this one out. As stated above, it's a sequel but can also be read as a stand-alone work. The schedule for the release dates of chapters is susceptible to change, as the previous book went from weekly updates to multiple uploads a week -- which will likely happen for this piece.

Thank you all for the support! Wishing everyone a fantastic year to come. Go out there and kick some ass <3

☾⋆⁺₊✧ If you want to be added to the taglist, click here!