#But it is still 6 chapters in a row of nothing but

[shiroselia]

Arc 3, I love you, you have some of the most important chapters in all of Unto Daylight of which if I removed them literally the entire story ahead would fall apart.

But Man my guy you are a SLOG to edit and get through

[eddiesxangel]

Take Me to the Lakes 6/6

cw: angst, hurt/ comfort, smut, dirty talk, daddy dom eddie, oral (f &m), p in v, anal play, use of y/n, MDNI 18+

wc: 8.4k

AN: it's been a long time coming, but the last chapter is here! I've been writing this fic for a year since I posted it as an OCx Eddie. But it deserved to be a reader insert, so I revamped it for you guys. Thank you all for taking the time to read the first Eddie series I ever started. ily all. I hope you enjoyed it <3

As the last days of camp dwindled, for the first time, you found yourself overwhelmed by an intense longing to be back in Hawkins. Each day passed in a blur, leaving you feeling numb and disconnected. Despite the efforts to maintain a composed façade for the children, you were merely going through the motions. 

You couldn't shake off the weight of the final exchange with Eddie, and the girls' attempts to help were in vain. Regret consumed you as you grappled with the realization that your actions had caused Eddie unnecessary pain. The thought of losing Eddie forced you to confront the need for change in your life, as you could not bear the prospect of living without him any longer.

The drive home seemed quicker than in previous years. The four hours it took to get home felt like nothing as your mind raced about how to make up for your mistake. You got over your pride quickly as you yearned for Eddie's company. You had everything you ever dreamed of, and you ruined it. 

The time spent falling for one another all went to waste as you tore his heart right out of his chest when you told him this was just a summer fling. Not only did you break his heart, but you also broke your own. How could you have done this to him? How could you have let your pride take over what your heart was screaming at you to take?

 Eddie was the only good thing to happen to you, the right person for you. He was kind, caring, unapologetically himself, funny, generous, looked out for others, and was light and love. You had to win him back. He was everything to you; he was the end game. So you devised a plan to get him back.

~

You’ve been home for two weeks and still have not heard from Eddie. You called him as soon as you got home, but he would let it go to the answering machine each time you called. You must have looked pathetic, begging him to talk to you. Every day, you would call once without letting up. Your sorrowful words flooded the machine so much that Eddie’s uncle Wayne was about to block your number, but Eddie stopped him. 

“What’s going on with you and this girl needs to be addressed, or I’m getting a restraining order,” Wayne huffed. 

He didn’t mean it, but your calls in the middle of the day woke him up since he was on the night shift. For the fifteenth day in a row, you called, the anticipation building up with every ring until you finally heard someone on the other line answer.

“Hello?” The voice was weathered and rough, nothing like your Eddie. 

Have you been calling the wrong number this whole time? You got his number off Ash; she wouldn’t have had it wrong?

“H-hi,” you stuttered, not expecting any time to pick up the call, “is Eddie there?” 

“No, darlin’, he’s at work. Doesn’t wanna talk to you, though. I know you keep calling, but he's busy, and I'm trying to sleep, so please stop calling.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir! Won’t happen again.” Your heart sinks at the reality of his words. 

“Thanks”

“Sir, before you go, can you relay a message to him?”

“Sure.” 

You can tell he's annoyed. 

“Can you tell him that I’m so sorry and that I love him?” your voice cracked at the words. 

“Sure thing,” Wayne’s voice softened. He had no idea what transpired this summer between you and Eddie, but he didn’t know love was involved until now. 

“Thank you… it’s y/n, by the way.” You tried to keep your sniffles to a minimum. 

“Goodbye “y/n” 

~

When Eddie got home that night, Wayne was already making his version of nighttime breakfast. 

“Boy, sit down,” Wayne instructed as Eddie entered their shard trailer.

“Can’t I shower first?” Eddie looks at his greased-up coveralls and hands. 

“Nope, you’re going to sit and listen.”

“Feel like I’m twelve again,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Now, I don’t know what happened between you and that girl who keeps calling, but you need to work it out, son.”

Eddie doesn't respond, but Wayne can see the wheels in his head turning. 

“She called again.” Wayne sighed heavily. “I spoke to her.”

“You what?” That caught Eddie’s attention.

“She asked me to tell you that she is sorry and that she loves you.”

“I-“

“No, listen here,” he pointed the black spatula at his nephew.

"Never in my lifetime did I think you would be able to find a girl in this town who would finally see what I’ve seen your whole life? I’m not going to let you throw that away for some stupid argument.”

“It wasn’t stupid, old man; she’s embarrassed by me.” 

“Didn’t sound like that to me; she was crying. She’s been calling every day for a fortnight. I think it’s time to hear her out. Clearly, she ain’t giving up without a fight. You don’t get that kind of love nowadays.” He turned to flip his fried egg.

“She’s too good for me; the princess of Hawkins can never be with the freak.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Show her you are growing! You’ve got a real job, boy, a good steady one. None of that selling drugs bullshit, keep in line with the law, don’t fuck this up.” 

“She hurt me, old man.” 

“I don’t disagree that she did, but she had a reason for her doubts…” Wayne trails off, knowing well that his nephew has been slacking when it comes to growing up. Three repeats of his senior year, selling drugs, getting caught for petty crimes, and people thinking he worships Satan. 

“Clearly, you care for this girl; I can tell you’re moping around. 

“I’m not moping.” 

“Don’t talk back.”

“Sorry.”

"Fix it, Ed. Now you can go shower. You stink”

~

Three weeks into the fall semester, you finally gave up on trying to call Eddie. The day you spoke to Wayne was the last day you called, but it didn’t stop you from repeating his phone number in your head for some source of comfort. 

Ash had seen him here and there and told you how he was doing even though he had asked her not to say anything; her loyalty lay with you. 

She told you he had played her the messages, so he had received them, but he was choosing to ignore you even though, in her words, “he looks like shit.” 

You try to keep a brave face before your parents and classmates, but you’re starting to break. Ashley saw it the second she laid eyes on you. 

She consoled you as you broke down in her arms. You apologized over and over again because you knew that she was also friends with Eddie and had already heard his side of the story. 

~

“I can’t stand seeing you like this,” Ashely sighed as she walked into the dusk-lit trailer with Eddie.

“Well, you can thank your best friend for that.” His tone was sharp. 

You had already called Ashley that night to tell her what had happened, and the second she hung up the phone, she raced over to the Munson’s.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it; she is under a lot of pressure.”

“She did mean it. She meant it and didn’t even have the decency to tell me straight up. Then she had the nerve to tell me she loves me.” Eddie scoffs. 

“She does love you, Ed. She’s loved you since she accidentally burst into the Vecna campaign.”

“No way.”

“Yes, way. She has always had a thing for you; she was too scared to do anything. A) because she didn’t think you were into her and B) the pressure her parents put her under to be the perfect student, child, dancer, or valedictorian should be borderline child abuse..."

"Her parents would disown her, they would stop paying for her college, and they would probably kick her out if they learned their perfect angel was with you. So yea, what she did was awful and shitty, but it isn’t because she wanted to. It was because she had to.” 

“She never told me much about her home life…” Eddie turned back to face Ash, leaning back against his amp. 

“Because she is too proud. She feels this need always to be perfect, to always be on. Have you noticed how she ensures everyone around her is cared for before herself? Have you taken the time to sit and really watch her? She is the one person I know who is actually so kind-hearted and has no altered motives behind her actions.”

“She still ripped my heart out and stomped on it.”

“And she regrets it all, Eddie. I’ve never seen her like this. Please just take some time and think hard. She is sorry, and she loves you truly. I don’t know why. I don’t see the appeal, but she’s head over heels. Trust me. I’ve heard enough about the two of you to last me six lifetimes…” 

“She’s told you about…that?” Eddie’s eyes go wide.

“And then some. She’s my best friend. What did you expect?” 

“I dunno? You’re not into men, so I thought she wouldn’t share those details?” He chuckles awkwardly. 

“No, Daddy.” 

“Get out.” 

A cackle fills the room as Ash tries to escape before Eddie physically pushes her out himself. 

“Ok, ok, I’m leaving. Just think about things, okay?

“Yeah, whatever.” Eddie shrugged and closed the screen door behind her. 

~

“He’s never going to forgive me.” You lay back on your bed. You and Eddie have been broken up for a month and a half. 

“I think he will come around; he is stubborn.” Ashley joins you. 

“This town is so small. How have I not bumped into him yet?”

“Probably because he got a new job, he’s always there. We haven’t had time to come up with a date for the next campaign. 

“Do you know what the new job is? Wayne mentioned he was at work when I spoke to him but didn’t say what it was?"

“Beats me,” Ash struggled, letting her head hand off the edge of your bed as she inhaled the smoke from the joint. 

Your parents were away for the weekend, and you had the house to yourselves. 

“You got any snacks?” 

“No, you know my mother doesn’t allow any of the good stuff in the house, and I haven’t had the time to go to the store since school started.” 

“Let’s go get some.” 

“Ok,” You hadn’t taken a hit yet, so you were okay to drive. 

Things were going according to plan. They had exactly what you both wanted at the store and now you’re both on your way back to your place when suddenly, your car stalled at the fork in the road.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" you cried.

"It's okay; there's a payphone up the road. I'll call my dad; his buddy is a mechanic. He can ask for a tow," she reassured you.

"Uh, okay, here," you said as you passed her some change to make the call.

A few minutes later, you saw a baby blue, beat-up-looking truck headed your way.

"Oh, thank God."

The relief was short-lived as you watched the driver jump down from the cab.

Ash flinched when you grabbed her hand and squeezed it so tight that her fingers started turning purple. 

“Owe, what the-“ 

“Hey Ash” 

“Eddie?” She chuckled as a sick and twisted grin grew on her face.

“You called about a tow?” 

“Yeah, her car stalled.” She gestured over to you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.

Eddie chose to ignore you were there, and you felt like you would throw up. 

“Ok, well, I'll hook it up to the rig; you can get in.” Eddie only spoke directly to Ash, choosing not to look at you. 

You stood there frozen, unable to speak as Ashley pulled you along with her to the tow truck. 

“Well, this is awkward.” She chuckled uncomfortably as you got in after her. 

“He’s a mechanic?” You whisper. 

“Looks like it.”

“What am I going to do?!” You’re panicking. Out of all the scenarios in which you envisioned bumping into Eddie, this was not one of them. 

“Breathe,” Ash instructs. “He is freaking out just as much as you are right now. Trust me.”

“O-oh, okay.” That didn’t settle your nerves in the slightest. 

You jerked when the driver's door swung open, and Eddie got in without as much as clearing his throat. 

“As much as I would love to catch up, I need to get home. Ed, is there any chance you can drop me off?” 

“But your stuff is at my place.” You give her a look. 

“I’ll get it tomorrow; we are almost there anyway.” 

You’re going to be best friendless in about ten minutes if she really thinks she can ditch you now, in your most desperate time of need. 

“Whatever,” Eddie mumbles and makes a left. 

“Thanks, Ed! Bye, babe!” She blows you an obnoxious kiss and turns to her house.

The cab is eerily silent, and not even the radio is on, which is very unlike Eddie. 

“She is so dead,” Eddie mumbles under his breath. 

“You’re telling me.” You agree. 

It’s the first thing you’ve said to him in a month. 

Eddie doesn’t respond, instead he keeps his eyes locked on the road while you try and make yourself smaller, as if that would make you a less of an inconvenience for him.

You were jerked out of your internal screaming when the car jerked into park. 

“We’re here.” He mumbles and gets out. 

Still uncomfortable, you take a second to gather yourself before opening your door. 

You jerk once again as the door is pulled out from under your grasp. 

You stare blankly as Eddie steps aside to let you out of the car. 

“T-thanks.” You don’t know what to do. 

He didn’t talk to you or even look at you, but he’s opening doors for you?

You follow him inside, and he opens the door for you again and tells you to wait until he’s finished. 

You anxiously wait for about forty-five minutes before Eddie returns to the waiting area. He looks devastatingly sexy like this. His coveralls are wrapped around his waist, showing off his black tank top, which clings to his sweaty body. Grease marks cover his alabaster skin. 

“When’s the last time you got this checked out?” His voice is stern. 

“I dunno? A year and a half? Maybe more?” you shrug innocently.

“No wonder it’s so fucked up.”

“Can-can you fix it?”

“You think I can’t fix it? I’m not a moron. I can do my job, y/n” 

Hearing him call you by your name was like a knife to the heart. 

“What, n-no?”

“How could you be so irresponsible!” 

“I don’t know Eddie!” You scream back. 

“What if this happened on your way home from Murdock? You’d be stuck in the middle of nowhere!”

“Well, good thing it didn’t!” 

“God, you’re infuriating” 

“Why do you even care!” 

“Woah woah woah… ok kids take it easy.” A much older mechanic came to step between the both of you. 

“Sorry, Mac,” Eddie steps back.

“Is this guy bothering you, sweetheart?” The older man, now known as Mac, asks. 

“I’m fine,” you say, shaking your head with a sniffle. 

“Ed, get back to work.” He ordered. 

“Your car might take a while, Miss. Do you want us to drive you back and pick you up when it’s ready?” 

“No, thanks, I’ll wait here.” You didn’t want to leave without your car. 

“It’s up to you. If you change your mind, let us know. Ed can drive you back.”

Sitting here for hours in silence was better than being trapped back in a car with Eddie for 15 mins.

“Thanks.” 

~

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over the horizon, you could feel your impatience growing. The tension in the air was palpable as if it could be sliced with a knife. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts as you grappled with how to approach him.

The mechanics left one by one until only Eddie and you remained. Unable to contain your restlessness any longer, you stuck your head into the garage area. The overpowering scent of motor oil and dirt floods your nostrils, hitting you like a wall. You struggled not to gag, but Eddie’s notice of your disgust did not escape.

“Sorry, this place isn’t clean enough for you, Princess.”

His inflection on your usual pet name was so harsh that you physically jerked back.

“I was just wondering how long it will be?” 

“Almost done.” 

“O-ok. Thanks” 

“I’m not doing you a favour. It’s my job.”

“You never told me you like working on cars.” You don’t know why you’re trying to keep the conversation going. Maybe you missed the sound of his voice, or maybe you’re a glutton for punishment? Maybe you missed him so bad you thought your heart would leap out of your chest if you didn’t touch him. 

“Like is a strong word. I’m good at it.” He shrugs. 

“You’re good at a lot of things,” the compliment slips out. 

“Whatever.” He sniffs and gets down on the creeper to take a look underneath. 

You choose to stay and watch him work; no one else is around to tell you otherwise. 

When Eddie reappears, he is surprised to see you sitting on the stool watching him work. 

“What are you still doing here?”

“Eddie, can you please talk to me?” You feel the lump in your throat start to suffocate you.

“I’m working.” Eddie lets out another sigh of frustration. 

“Ok, fine; you don’t have to talk, but will you please just listen?”

Eddie chooses to ignore you and rolls back under the car. You don’t care you’re going to talk anyway. 

“I got scared, baby.” 

The term of endearment tugged on Eddie’s heartstrings as much as he didn’t want them to. 

“I’m so scared. I’ve never felt like this before about anybody, and the thought of it being stripped away from me was too much. I don’t talk about my parents because they put me on this pedestal. I knew they wouldn’t accept you no matter how unbelievably wonderful and beautiful you are. So I panicked…” you take a deep breath to compose yourself. 

Eddie rolls out from under the hood and sits up on the creeper. 

“I’m an embarrassment then? I can’t possibly be good enough, so you strung me along all summer like a pathetic, lovesick idiot for thinking you could actually be with someone like me, so you could what?…”

“I didn’t string you along! I didn’t know this would happen between us, but I know I love you, Eddie!” You didn’t think you had any more tears left to cry, but you were wrong. Your eyes started to well. 

“I don’t believe you.”

“Please, baby, believe me, I don’t care what anyone else will think anymore! I’ll get disowned. I don’t care. I need you to understand, even if you don’t love me back.” You slip off the stool onto your knees so you’re face to face with the man you love. 

“You don’t think I love you?! You really believe that?” 

You shake your head no, ashamed to look at him.

“I hurt you; I understand that you don’t want me.” 

“You really think I could spend the whole summer with you and not fall in love?” He shook his head in disbelief. 

“What are you saying?” You want to reach out and touch him, but hold yourself back. 

“Of course I love you! I’m changing for you! I’m staying out of trouble; I got this job to get on my own two feet! To prove to you that I can be that guy!”

Not caring anymore, you launch yourself at him, connecting your lips and arms around his neck. 

Eddie couldn’t help himself. His body acting on instinct, he fell back into routine and kissed you back immediately. 

Not thinking about his dirty hands, he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in closer until your bodies pressed up against one another. 

The moment your bodies touched, you felt like you were on fire. Everything felt so right like you were whole once again. 

Regretfully, Eddie pulled away first. 

“I’m so sorry,” you plead once more. 

“It will take some time, but I want you more than I want to be mad at you.” He cups your face and smears some grease on your cheek as he tries to wipe away the tear stain. 

“Really?”

“I love you, I never got to say it. I would tell you our last night before things blew up in our faces.” 

“I love you, Eddie.” 

A small smile creeps from his lips. 

“Oh shit, you’re so dirty.” 

“You know I like it dirty,” you can't help but smirk.

“No, no, your shirt and your,” he motions to your cheek. 

“It’s okay.” You shrug, and an awkward silence settles between you. 

“Um, so,” Eddie clears his throat.”

“Kiss me?”

“Your wish is my command, Princess.”

Your car was fixed by 9:00 p.m., and you offered Eddie a night, but he felt it was too soon to jump back into things. It stung a little, but you understood that not all was forgiven just yet. So you parted ways at the garage but saw a light at the end of the tunnel. 

~

Things between you and Eddie have been better—not great, but better. He calls you on his days off, but you haven’t fully been forgiven by him just yet. 

You haven’t spent any one-on-one time since he fixed your car two weeks ago because he’s been that slammed with essays, and you have to get ready for midterms. 

“I was down at the mechanic yesterday, and you won’t believe who is working there.” Your dad huffs. 

“Who?” Your mom replies. 

You can’t help but overhear as you study at the kitchen table. 

“The Munson boy.” 

Uh-oh. 

“Really?”

“Wouldn’t want him fixing my cars, probably mess it up even more.”

“He fixed my car two weeks ago.” You interjected. 

“What?” Your mom snapped her head to you.

Ok, guess this conversation is happening now.

“He isn’t like what people say.” 

“How exactly would you know this?” Your father squints at you suspiciously. 

“Because I worked with him all summer at camp, and I learned a lot about him.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” You nod point blank.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” your dad asks, and your mother scolds him for such a question. 

“I’m an adult,” you bite back.

“What are you saying y/n?” Your mom asks.

“Eddie is good, and kind, and gentle. He isn’t a devil-worshiping deviant that everyone thinks.”

“Sounds like you’re very fond of this Munson kid.” Your dad was not amused. 

“I am. I’m in love with him.” You swallow your fear. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I’m in love with Eddie. I have been for a long time, and this summer, we were together.” You breathe.

“I will not allow this!” Your father booms.

“Calm down, let’s hear her out.” Your mom was much more level-headed about this than you anticipated. 

“What?” Your father and you both look to your mom. 

“Have we not raised her to make her own choices?” 

No way your mom was on your side?

“I will not have my child tainted by that scoundrel!”

“We’ve been together all summer! Have I changed at all?! Have I not done everything by your book? I was valedictorian! I was homecoming queen! Prom queen! A cheerleader! I was on the debate team! I was on the student council! I’m in college for business! I have been the perfect child for you, and you don’t have the decency to hear me out!” 

Your father and mother were shocked. You had never spoken back to them before. 

“This is bullshit.” You walk away from your studies, grab your purse and walk out. 

You drive, you drive until you reach the trailer park on the other side of town. 

You didn’t even know what one was Eddie’s, but you were hoping that you would see his van. 

You drive down the gravel road, and you hear nothing but your heart pounding and the crunch of the rocks beneath your tires. 

You almost reach the end of the park when you take out a breath of relief when you see the van on the right side of the lot. 

You pull up and park behind it before you breathe heavily. 

Would he even want to see you? You weren’t sure but needed to see him, no matter how selfish you were. 

You tentatively give the screen door a few knocks and wait anxiously. 

A few moments pass before you hear footsteps, and a figure appears from behind the small window of the door. 

You freeze when you see the older gentleman standing on the other side of the frame. 

Shit. You woke up his uncle…. Again. 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Munson,” you apologized before you went to go back to your car. 

Stupid, why don’t you ever think before you act? You knew his uncles would be sleeping. 

“Hold on now, are you that girl my boy has been hung up on.” 

“Uh- yea, I guess so.” You stop in your tracks. 

“The one who keeps waking me up?” He chuckles, and you physically cringe. 

“Look about that. I am so sorry, I completely forgot, didn’t realize the time-“

“It’s ok, hun. Do you want to come in? Ed isn’t home, but he should be shortly.”

“Really?”

“Please.” He waves you in, and you walk back up the porch steps and inside Eddie’s home. 

“Haven’t had a guest in a while; sorry about the mess” 

You look around, and you can’t spot the mess he’s talking about.

“Don’t worry about me.” You stand in the room awkwardly, not knowing where to go.

“Have a seat, darling,” he offers a kitchen table chair. 

“Want anything to drink? I’m making myself a coffee.” 

“Coffee is nice” 

“How do you take it?”

“Two sugars, one cream please”

“Coming right up.”

You fiddle with the hem of your sweater, not knowing what to do with your hands. Usually, you’re good at talking to people, strangers or not, but in this case, you can’t find the right words.

“I really am so-“

“If I hear you apologize one more time, I’ll ask you to wait outside.” He chuckles again. 

“Oh- sor-,” you catch yourself and just stop talking altogether. 

“So, I see why Ed is head over heels for you” 

You blush as he sets a Garfield mug in front of you.

“You think he’s really head over heels?” you air quote. 

“You have no idea. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone. Was starting to get worried.” He laughed again. He was happy Eddie was finally happy. 

“I still think he’s mad at me for what happened.” You take a sip of the sweet liquid. 

“He will get over it. He tried to hide it, but I’ve known him from the time he popped out of his mama. He is in love.”

You can’t help but feel the rush of heat travel to your cheeks again. 

“I hope so.” You sigh just as the hinges to the front door squeak. 

You both look over, and Eddie’s large frame fills the hole as he enters the living room. He’s changed out of his coveralls, but his hands and face are covered in grease.

“Princess?” He questions before a smile breaks his face. 

He hasn’t seen you since the garage. 

“Hi,” you stand up to hang him. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks surprised.

“I told my parents.” You pull back.

“You what!” You didn’t think his chocolate eyes could get any bigger. 

“I don’t want you to be a secret.” You cup his curious face in your hands.

“R-really?”

“No, baby. I love you. I want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you, too.”

“So, do you forgive me?”

“After I talked some clear sense into the boy, he’s forgiven you.” Wayne nods his head.” You forgot for a moment that you weren’t alone. 

“Shouldn’t you be hitting the road, old man?” 

“Trying to get rid of the old guy so you can have quality time together… I see how it is.” He nods solemnly. 

Your face heats up with embarrassment at the innuendo. You bury your face into Eddie’s chest to hide, and Eddie waves off his uncle to leave for his shift, and his uncle laughs menacingly as he shuts the door behind him. 

“So…” you fill the silence now that you’re finally alone for the first time in months. 

“I’m going to shower,” he jerks his thumb over his shoulder and heads to the bathroom. You know, dirt and all,” he motions down his body.

“Ya-of course! I’ll uh, I’ll wait here.” You stand in the middle of the room, trying to take up as little space as possible. 

“Relax, Princess, I’ll be right back.” he kisses your cheek before turning for the bathroom 

As Eddie showered, you couldn’t help but snoop. You saw a door at the end of the hall, and you could only assume it was Eddie’s room based on what you saw through the crack. You slowly pushed the door open and realized your assumption was correct. 

It looked exactly like you thought, and there were no surprises there. 

You investigated further to find a lion costume, and you giggled to yourself. 

“What’s so funny?” You jumped when you felt Eddie’s damp fingers graze up your arms.

“Oh my god! You scared me.” You clutch your chest. 

“Couldn’t help myself, seized the opportunity.”  He flipped you so your chests met.

His chest was bare and damp; only a towel was wrapped around his waist as he caged you in with his strong arms. 

You suddenly realized how badly you wanted him. You craved him every second you were apart, and now you’re so close you could lean in and lick his tattooed chest. 

“Like what you see, princess?” He grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes. 

“Yes,” you sigh unabashedly. 

“Good. Daddy’s missed you, baby.” He whispered before leaning in to kiss you. His hands roam your body, he missed your soft skin, your breasts, your ass. 

You fight back a moan as your pussy clenches at his words. Your body is on fire; you want to do everything to please him, to make him feel good, wanted, and needed. 

Eddie’s hands made their final destination as his kiss deepened. His thick fingers slip into the pockets of your jeans and squeeze, making you roll your hips into his. 

“Need you,” you moan as you pull him in closer by the towel, making it slip.

“Oops,” you giggle innocently like that’s not exactly what you wanted. 

“Naughty girl,” Eddie chuckles darkly before he bends down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you over to the unmade bed. 

You kiss his neck before he places you down on the mattress. A small growl leaves his lips when you lick his sweet spot. 

You can feel his hard cock pressing into your lower stomach, only making your pussy weep for him. 

Weeks without his touch have been punishment enough for your trepidations. Eddie’s hands found the button of your jeans and popped it open without struggle. The sound of your zipper was so loud as you waited for his hands to touch you. You saved time by taking off your top garments, but you needed to feel him on your skin.

“You’re so ready for me already, aren’t you, Princess?” His hands cupped your pussy over your sodden panties. Eddie watches your face as his fingers played with your clit. The look on your face was what he loved most. Your eyes glazed over, your mouth agape, and he hasn’t even started. The way you submit to him made him feral. 

“Yes, daddy.” Your pussy was throbbing for him.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He stretches out like a cat as his head dips lower as his hands reach up your body to cup your breasts. 

His hands mould themselves to your tits, and his tongue licks a hot wet strip up your soaked slick, basking in your taste. 

He’s craved it ever since that day he left. He wants to devour you, to consume you until he is high off of you.

You grind your hips into his face; you can’t help it. 

“Greedy girl,” he spoke into your pussy, making you quiver beneath him. 

“Ohhh,” your back arched. Your hand gripped his long locks as you tugged them tightly. Eddie knew your body so well; it was like he was designed for you. All of your senses were ablaze, and his name fell from your lips. 

“Not allowed to cum until I say so,” he growls. He knew you were close as his fingers slipped up into your cunt. 

“W-what?” You stutter.

“You’ve been a bad girl” 

“Daddy, please,” you begged, but Eddie didn’t like how whiney you’d become. 

Before you cry at the loss of Eddie’s mouth in your cunt a sharp slap strikes your pussy. 

Your body jerks, but you like it.

“You will listen to me.” You met his gaze, and you understood he wasn’t playing around. 

“Sorry, Daddy.” You whispered. 

“What’s that? I didn’t hear you?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say with more confidence. 

“Good girl, now give me what I want.” 

He sits up, and you follow suit. You knew he wanted your mouth; it’s the least you could do for what you put him through. 

You wanted him. Needed him, yearned for him. 

The way Eddie has you revelling for him was exactly what he wanted. To see you like this, on your knees, begging to take him in your mouth. 

“You want it so bad, don’t you, baby?” He asks as he’s laying on his back, you're between his knees. 

“Yes,” you don’t dare touch him yet, but you want to. 

“You’re going to beg for it, baby”

Now he was just being mean

“But-“

“Are you talking back to me?”

“No, Daddy.” 

“Beg.”

“Please let me touch you.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, even though he had you beat in that department every time. “I want you in my mouth so badly, baby; I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. I crave you.  I want it so bad, please. I want to make you feel so good, baby. I can make you feel so good if you let me.”

“Good girl. Now suck.”

Your mouth watered at the way he spoke to you. You loved how Eddie’s could get so commanding when you fucked. 

You had his cock in your mouth within the second he stopped speaking. 

You licked a long strip up the underside of his shaft that lay flat against his stomach. His cock was so hard for you it only make it all that more pleasurable, knowing he was also yearning as much as you were, if not more, even if his words didn’t show it. 

“Take it’s that’s my good girl,” he praised. 

His hands gripped your hair as he guided your mouth at his desired pace. Your saliva pooled in your mouth, creating a sensation so good that Eddie can’t help but fuck your mouth. 

You loved it, and you wanted him to use you to remind him that only you can get him this way. 

The feeling of his head almost hitting the back of your throat was exhilarating.

 Eddie knows your limits and wouldn’t push your boundaries; he can’t do that to his princess. 

Just before he’s about to cum, he pulls you off to let you breathe; his chest heaves as he waits for you to collect yourself. 

“Come here.” He beckoned you to lay parallel with him. 

Eddie takes you in a kiss that makes your world stop. A kiss that lets you know he truly does love you. The way he was so firm but so gentle, his soft lips moulded with your own. Your taste on his tongue and his taste on yours melded together as one. You roll on top of him; you want your bodies to be connected. 

“Can you fuck me now? Please?” You grind your wet pussy overtop his hard cock, threatening to slip it inside. 

“Is that what my princess wants?”

“Yes, so bad”

“I love it when you beg for it,” Eddie says, flipping you over. You let out a squeal at the unexpected movement. 

“Gonna fuck you until you beg for me to stop” he slowly guides his hard cock into your tight wet pussy. 

Your fingers grip his shoulders as he slips into you. You pull him down so his weight is fully on top of you; you need to feel close to him again. 

Eddie’s lips attach themselves to your neck, biting and sucking until the mark of possession is dark and purple. 

The consequences of having a large hickey when you get home are the last thing on your mind. The way he is making you feel trumps all.

His hips begin to pump his cock in and out of you. Finally, the sensation you’ve been yearning for is finally reality.

“Fuck yes!” You cry as his hips slap into your own, and his hand travels to your swollen clit.

“You like it when I touch you there, don’t you? Dirty girl can’t get enough of Daddy’s cock can she” 

“No, Daddy!” You cry. 

Eddie pulls up so he can watch his slick covered cock disappear inside of you with each thrust. His eyes are deranged with lust as he can’t look away. His hands gripped so tightly on your hips, moving your body to match his strokes as if you were just a fleshlight. 

“Pl-please,” you stutter as his cock hits your g spot without warning. 

“Please, what? Tell Daddy what you want” 

“I want to cum” 

The price Eddie felt that he already had you quivering under him, and it’s only been a few minutes since his cock had entered you.

“Babygirl, what’s to come already?” He mocks. 

“Yes, please,” you seethe through your teeth. 

“Not yet.” 

“I can’t hold it.” Your eyes well up; it felt so good; the pressure built up in your lower stomach was wound so tightly you were about to explode. No way you could hold off. 

Your pussy clamped on Eddie like a vice. He almost couldn’t pull out by how tight of a grip you held. 

“Oh-oh,” he stuttered. You caught him off guard. 

“You wanna be in charge, princess?” He cupped your face.

“No, I just want to cum” you continue to beg as his thrusts didn’t still. 

“Cum for me” his hand continued to curl your bundle of nerves, and you fell apart. Your feral moans filled the room as your body was washed over in a wave of euphoria. You came so hard you think you blacked out for a moment. 

“That’s it; there’s my girl; you fuckin came so good” Eddie still pumped himself into you. He didn’t want it to be over just yet. He was having so much fun playing with you. You were like his little doll. 

“Come on, baby, ride me.” He helps lift you up even though your whole body feels like jello.

“Gonna bounce on Daddy’s cock like a good little bunny,” he praises, and your pussy floods itself once more. 

When you sink down on his cock you see starts. The new angle was so much more filling than when he had you on your back.

“Oh my god,” your eyes roll back, and your jaw hands slack. Eddie seizes the opportunity to push his fingers into your mouth to suck on. 

“Such a good girl. You like all your holes filled, huh? How about this one? We are missing one.” His free hand wraps around your ass and toys with your other hole. 

“Yes,” you frantically nodded your head.

“Mmm, you’re such a slut for me, aren’t you? My little bunny. Just love to hop on this cock, huh?” He takes the fingers that were shoved in your mouth and slowly stretches you out. “That’s it, that’s my girl. Taking all of me so well. You like being so full, don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Your legs burned, but you didn’t dare stop until he came. The sound of your wet skin slapping and moans filled the empty bedroom. The only two people that exist right now are you and Eddie. Eddie’s pleasure was at the top of mind, but you were getting close to that breaking point. Your second orgasm was getting closer and closer with each pump. 

“You’re so tight, pretty baby; you gonna come again, f’me?”

You nod your head frantically as the words get caught in your throat.

“Awe, my pretty bunny can even speak, huh? You’re just sooo cock drunk for daddy’s cock, aren’t you, baby?” 

Eddie’s words only aided your impending orgasm to crash through your whole body. You collapsed down into Eddie’s body as yours quivered in excitement over his. The way your pussy clamped down on Eddie’s cock had him cuming right along with you. Eddie’s head tingled as his hot load shot up into you. He couldn’t help but jerk his hips up on instinct to make sure you took all of him. 

With a sigh of relief, Eddie hugged you closer to his body, not letting you pull off his softening cock just yet. 

You let your weight fall on Eddie as you come down from your orgasm. Eddies tattooed arms wrapped around you and pulled you in your head to his chest. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest, and your heart fell in sync with his soothing beat. 

“You okay, Princess?”

“Mmmhhhmmmmmm,” you hum as you nuzzle your head deeper into the crook of his neck. 

You could cry at how happy you were at this moment. Finally, you have everything you want wrapped in your arms. 

“Good.” he kisses the top of your head, and you both fight the urge not to fall asleep like this. 

After Eddie begrudgingly got up because he insisted you both had to clean up you both fell asleep and didn’t wake up until late in the evening. 

~

Eddie ordered you both pizza, and you fell right back into your old ways. You can’t seem to wipe the permanent smile from your face. 

Simple ‘I love you’s’ slip past each of your lips. It was disgusting to anyone who would be looking from the outside in, but you and Eddie were in your own bubble that nobody could break until you both jumped when there was a pounding on the front door.

Eddie shit up from your arms and ran to see who it is. 

“What the?” He jerks the door open, and Ash makes her way inside. 

“Dude, your parents are freaking out.” 

“What?” You sit up. 

“They called me, yelling about how you’ve lost your mind, that the Munson boy has you brainwashed and stormed out of the house.”

If you could roll your eyes any more, they would fall out of your skull. 

“I know.” She agreed. 

Eddie stood behind her nervously, biting his nails. Would you rethink everything? He couldn’t come between you and your parents. 

“They will come around; they just need to meet him; they’ll see how good he is,” you plead. 

“I don’t know, Princess.” The thought of him meeting your parents terrified him. 

You get up off the couch and walk to Eddie. You cup his face to look him in the eye, and he melts in your touch. 

“We will figure this out”

“You guys are gross.” Ash can’t help but smile. She’s so happy for both of you. 

“Thanks, babe,” you smile at her. 

“Okay, well, I know you’re okay. I’ll let your parentals know that you’re safe, and you’ll come home when they’re ready to talk to you and have calmed down.

“Thank you.”

After Ash left, you tried to get Eddie to calm down and relax. Eventually, he could do it when you slipped off the couch and sank between his legs. 

The second your tongue touched his sensitive head, he was sufficiently relaxed. And once your mouth was dripping with his cum he thinks he couldn’t be more in love with you. The thought of meeting your parents wasn’t as scary. He will do everything and anything to keep you. 

“I’ll do it.” 

“What?” You wipe the corner of your mouth. 

“I’ll meet your partners.”

“Are you sure?” 

“If I get head like that? I’ll do anything you ask of me”

You giggle softly, and he takes you in his arms. You agree that tomorrow when you go home tomorrow. 

~

With bated breath, Eddie and you walk into your childhood home, hand in hand. 

“Hello?” 

“Sweetheart! We were so worried.” Your mom rushed down the foyer hallway. 

“Mom, I’m fine.” 

Your mother spots the large and abrasive bruise on your neck. She stiffens up immediately when she also sees Eddie standing beside you. 

“I see.” 

“Mom, please.” 

“Okay. Let’s talk.”

“Where is Dad?” 

“I’m his chair.” She rolls her eyes. 

The three of you walk to the living room, where your dad is reading the paper, unbothered. 

“Dad,” you greet him.

“Nice of you to return your little tantrum faster.

“My tantrum?” You couldn’t believe how childish he had acted yesterday.

You feel Eddie’s hand tightening in yours, and you squeeze it back.

“Can we please talk?”

He tips the corner of his pepper to finally look up and realizes Eddie is in his house. 

“What is he doing here?” 

“If you won’t treat my boyfriend respectfully, we are leaving.” 

“Sweetheart, wait, we can talk about this.”  Your mom was trying to keep the peace. 

“Good.” You lead Eddie to sit on the couch, but he doesn’t follow. 

He walks over to your dad and reaches out his hand. 

“Sir, I’m Eddie.” You watch as Eddie’s hand is held out firm. 

Your dad stared back at him for a moment until you warned him.

Surprisingly, your dad took his hand and shook it, and you sighed a breath of relief.

“Hello, Edward.” You tried not to roll your eyes, but your eyes betrayed you. 

“Y/N,” your mom warns. 

“Sorry.” 

Eddie also reaches out to your mother. He hands her the bouquet of flowers he had for her.

“Thank you, Eddie.” She smiles and sets them on the coffee table as they both sit. Your parents are on one side, you and Eddie are on the other. 

“So,” your dad speaks. 

With a deep breath, you start to speak. 

“Over the summer, Eddie and I got really close, and we are together as a couple.” 

“And now what? You’re going to live happily ever after?” 

“Sir, with all due respect, your daughter can make her own choices. She has been the golden child her whole life. She respects and loves you both so much that he actually broke up with me in fear of what you both would say or do…

“ I don’t know if you noticed, but she is the best person everyone who has had the pleasure of knowing her has ever met. You and your wife have raised a wonderful person, and I am so lucky and grateful she chose me.”

“I’m doing everything in my power to make sure I live up to her standards. She is the most important person in my life, and I will treat her as she deserves. If that isn’t enough for you both, so be it, but she doesn’t need me to support her. She knows how to handle herself, and that’s all due to you guys.” 

You held back tears as you listened to Eddie speak so highly of you. It was so nice to be validated. 

“Is that right?” Your dad spoke. 

“Yes, Sir.” Eddie nods and takes your hand in his.

“That’s very honourable of you, Edward.” 

Were pigs flying? Did your dad just say something nice?

“Thank you, Sir.” 

“Those are very kind things of you to say, Eddie. I’m sorry we jumped to conclusions about your intentions. 

“I understand I have a reputation; I wasn’t dealt the best hand, but I love your daughter, and she loves me. I haven’t done anything to disrespect her, and I never plan to.” 

Your parents stay silent and give one another a look. You held your breath until one of them spoke. 

“We are going to have some rules for when you come over-“ you dad starts but your mom cuts him off.

“Eddie, would you like to stay for dinner?” Your mom offered.

“Yes, I would love to, ma’am.” Eddie smiled, and so did you. 

You mouthed the words ‘thank you’ to your mom, and she gave you an assuring smile. 

“What?” 

“They are adults. Clearly, they have been safe over the summer; I'm sure they will keep it that way.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Eddie cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. 

Your eyes went wide, and cheeks flared up with embarrassment.

Your dad sat back with a grumble and flicked his newspaper, flustered as ever. 

“I’ll go start dinner. You kids can go; I’ll let you know when Im finished. 

“We did it!” You jumped into Eddie’s arms, and he spun you around once you entered your bedroom. 

You celebrated with a kiss, and you slipped down his body, and your feet made contact with the floor. 

“Can’t wait to show off my girl.” He cupped your face in both hands, “need to let all of Hawkins you’re mine.” 

“I’m all yours, Eddie Munson.” 

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” 

~End~ 

tags: @winchester-angel @josephquinnsfreckles @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @emma-munson @littlexdeaths

@siriuslysmoking @peachysink @nailbatanddungeon @leelei1980 @daisy-munson

@taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @strangerstilinski @bl0ssomanddie

@seb-buckybarnes @chickenandsheep-blog @lokis-army-77 @ali-r3n @erinekc @usergeta @snowflowersstars246

@micheledawn1975 @princesatracionera @bells-28 @kellsck @ezzynf

@oneforthemunny @brxkenartt @ktiutsa @sofiaadela @guineveresghost @nabiiturner @eddiesguitarskills @comeonatmebruh @sky-full-0f-fl0wers

[okaylikeschaewon]

Chapter 6: Antifragile

“Sweetie, that hurts.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” Chaewon apologized, letting go of your hand.

“I’ve never seen you this nervous before,” you chuckled softly, placing your hand on her trembling knee. “At least try to enjoy it.”

“I do enjoy it, I- it’s starting!” she screamed before grasping your hand once more, even harder than before.

This time you simply ignored the pain and let it happen, smiling at her excitement. Unfortunately for your ears, her scream wasn’t alone, it was accompanied by four others. This was as new of an experience for you as it was for the other members; You couldn’t help but feel just as excited as the five girls in the room as that first line of the music video played.

I am antifragile.

“Ah Zuha!”

“Eunchae!”

“Kkura wow!”

Hectic was an understatement. Even though there was a lot of energy in the room, it was nothing compared to the level of excitement that could be felt by hundreds of fans waiting for Le Sserafim to take the stage just a short distance away. It was a brilliant idea to release the group's first comeback together with an entire concert; it was surely one way to come out with a bang..

“You girls are acting like it’s your first time seeing the video,” you laughed.

“Hey! Shush,” Yunjin responded, shooting you a playful glare.

“Hey, shush!” Kazuha repeated before the two girls began giggling like crazy, repeating the line over and over.

“Ahh what is wrong with these two,” Sakura whined, unable to contain her smile, with Eunchae sitting in her lap.

“Look,” Chaewon muttered, her eyes never leaving the screen, face full of focus. It almost looked like she was reviewing the video- or perhaps she was hyping herself up for the impending performance.

“Pretty,” you said before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, patting her thigh with your hand. Her grip loosened on your hand for a bit, just until her powerful ‘whoa’ line which had the girls erupt in screams once more. Chaewon took the opportunity to stand up, pulling you along with her.

“Where are we going?” you whispered, following her to the back of the room where a couple of rows of clothing gave you some privacy from the others who were still screaming their lungs out.

“I want to show you something,” she answered, hopping up onto the dresser.

Chaewon slipped a hand up under her skirt and pulled down her safety shorts to her knees before leaning back, spreading her legs as far as the shorts would allow. You lowered yourself just enough to see up her skirt as she stuck her hand up the bottom again. She pulled her white underwear to the side, revealing a sparkle between her legs.

“Is that-”

“Yes.”

“Why?” you gasped, quickly checking over your shoulder to make sure your privacy was still intact before slipping your hand up her skirt as well.

“I’m going to perform with it,” she whispered into your ear as your fingers made contact with her wet skin.

“Won’t that be a bit uncomfortable?” you asked while rubbing your fingers beside her folds, up and down her soft skin.

“It’s going to be my constant reminder,” she moaned as you began to rub your thumb around her clit. “My reminder of what you’re going to do to me.”

“I’m going to do to you?” you replied, lightly tugging on the glass piece inside her. “What might that be?”

“You’ll find out soon,” she answered before pushing your hand away and hopping off the dresser.

“Don’t go,” you protested, trying to slide your hand up her skirt again. “You still have time.”

“Chaewon-ah! We’re about to go out, where are you?!” Sakura shouted from the other side of the room.

“Coming!” she shouted back while smirking at you. “So much for still have time,” she added quietly before leaning forward and kissing you.

“Have fun out there, I’ll be watching,” you cheered, giving her butt a little pat as she rushed over, back to the rest of the girls who were a screaming mess as the video came to an end.

It all happened so quickly. The room was filled with screams and excitement just a moment ago, but now they had vanished, leaving you with nothing but the ringing in your ears as a reminder. You got comfortable on the couch, eyes glued to the screen as the group’s introduction began playing.

There was no denying this group was loaded with charm. Each member had their moment on the screen; Yunjin with her chic expressions, Kazuha with her unrealistic beauty, Sakura had that slightly awkward but so loveable smile, and Eunchae in typical Eunchae fashion was adorable. Then the camera zoomed in on Chaewon, the one who was able to pull it all off: cool demeanor, beautiful makeup, her slow and seductive blink, all topped with her adorably tied up hairstyle.

What really captivated you, more than you already were, was the seduction. The way Chaewon looked into the camera, she nonverbally forced you to look at her. Dripping of confidence, you would have never guessed that the same girl had been sitting next to you trembling from nerves just a minute ago. Then it began, the instrumental to No Celestial starting up, the members all getting into it as if this was their calling in life.

In a way it was. All of the training and hard work was unraveling before your eyes. In a vacuum, it would be impossible to know that these were rookies performing their first comeback; They jumped up with the assurance and certainty of seasoned professionals. You could see that they were enjoying themselves despite a little bit of shakiness here and there and a few minor choreo errors that were completely overshadowed by their enthusiasm - it was obvious to anyone watching that they were genuinely having a good time up there.

The amount of pride you felt as you watched Chaewon address the crowd was overwhelming. She, and the rest of the members, just looked so happy. You were glad that all of their hard work was rewarded with an opportunity to be face to face with fans; fans who were cheering their lungs out. They deserved it, the hardships they faced. Just as you were really feeling the emotions, Good Parts began to play. Before you knew it, the girls reunited with you in the room.

“Why do you look so sad?” Chaewon asked while jumping onto your lap, blocking your view of the screen and the video.

Without speaking, you pulled her into a hug. At first she didn’t move, but eventually she returned the hug twofold. Her body was still slightly warm after the performance, and it brought you great comfort having her in your arms.

“I’m not sad,” you mumbled into her shoulder, giving her butt a little squeeze, knowing what she had between her legs right now. “Excited would be a better word.”

“You two are so adorable,” Eunchae teased, taking a seat next to you.

“Eunchae behave,” Sakura said sternly, taking a seat next to her.

“Wow, Kkura is so cool when she’s bossy,” Yunjin cooed, sipping on some water and fanning herself while Eunchae laughed.

“Zuha, is everything alright?” Sakura asked, ignoring the other two.

“This won’t open for some reason,” she mumbled, fiddling with a little packet.

“Do you need help?” Sakura laughed.

“I got this,” Kazuha mumbled, her face fully focused on the snack.

“Come on,” Chaewon instructed, standing up and pulling you away. “We’ll be right back.”

“Where are-” Eunchae began before Sakura covered up her mouth.

“Don’t be too long, we have to change and head back out,” Sakura said while playfully. It almost seemed like she knew something.

You paused briefly next to Kazuha as you followed Chaewon out of the room. She was holding the packet when you took it from her and ripped it open before returning it to her. She was shocked at first, but she soon gave you a loving smile. You returned her grin and thought how sweet she was as you caught up to Chaewon.

“That was kind of you,” Chaewon commented now that the two of you were alone in the hallway.

“Am I not allowed to be?”

“I’ve told you so many times,” Chaewon huffed. “Zuha is fair game, I expect you to treat her well. Just stop making it so obvious that you want her.”

She was playing playful about it, but part of you suspected there might have been a tinge of jealousy. Or perhaps you were overthinking it.

“Yeah, but I don’t want Zuha right now,” you announced before aggressively pinning Chaewon against the wall. “I want you.”

“Do you?” she moaned as you began peppering her neck with kisses.

Your hand slid up her thigh, up her skirt, and then yanked her safety shorts and underwear down at once, letting the garments fall to the ground. With her neck in your mouth, you grabbed the base of the plug and slowly pulled it out of her pussy.

“Ah,” she moaned softly, reaching behind your back and grabbing your head.

Her pussy was dripping - you could feel little droplets fall onto your wrist as you began rubbing the plug around her intimate parts. You slid it up and down her pussy, forcing her to moan quietly, knowing that at any second someone could walk out of the room and catch you in the act.

An idea popped into your mind as you rubbed the little glass plug around her pussy. With your other hand, you gently squeezed her ass as you moved your mouth deeper into her neck. You slowly slipped the plug towards her ass, spreading her cheeks just enough to give you access.

“What are you-” she began to whisper before suddenly letting out a deafening squeal.

“Chaewon-ah?!” Sakura shouted from behind the door.

“Are you okay?!” Yunjin shouted as well.

“Yeah!” she shouted back. “I slipped, but I’m fine!”

“Slipped,” you whispered while stifling your laughter.

She hit you on the chest, playfully, before pulling up her underwear and fixing her skirt while glaring at you.

“Need to find somewhere more private,” she whispered, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it painfully hard.

As you followed her towards the door, you couldn’t take your eyes off her ass. The first few steps clearly showed some levels of discomfort, but soon she began walking normally. If you didn’t know better, you could have never guessed she had a plug in her ass right now - but you did know better.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she scolded you while walking.

“I’d say sorry, but I noticed you didn’t take it out yet,” you teased back.

“Shut up.”

You obeyed her command, trying your best to play along with her ‘anger’. She was clearly trying to act upset, but you just found it adorable the way she was trying to hide her smile.

“This works,” Chaewon said while peering into one of the empty dressing rooms. “Lock the door behind you.”

“What if I just leave it open?” you asked while locking it. “Add to the excitement?”

“I don’t care, just hurry up and get in here,” Chaewon growled, slamming her lips against yours.

As you two kissed, you moved deeper into the room. While the sloppy and messy kiss took over your mind, Chaewon backpedaled deeper into the room until a dresser eventually came into contact with her lower back.

“Someone’s in a rush,” you joked while yanking her skirt alongside her underwear down to the ground.

“Someone shoved a plug up my ass,” she hissed, stepping out of the clothes before kissing your mouth again. “Now can that someone hurry up and fuck me? I have to go back on stage soon.”

“Then someone needs to hurry up and turn around,” you snapped, giving her ass a hard spank before spinning her by her hips so that she was staring into the mirror of the makeup station.

Your firm cock immediately sprung up in attention as you dropped your own pants and locked eyes. Your hand slipped up her body and wrapped around her neck as you held onto your base with your other hand, fumbling with your cock between her legs until you found her hole.

With her lustful gaze in the mirror, and your cock poised to enter her pussy, you thrust your hips. As your length squeezed into her tight little pussy, your hand around her neck gently pressed down. Her mouth shot open, her eyes squinted, and she paused for a second as your hips slammed into her ass.

“So fucking wet,” you groaned, sliding your hand from her neck onto her shoulder. You brought your other hand up the side of her body, placing it on her other shoulder before pressing down and bending her over deeper. However, you made sure not to push too far - you wanted to see her face in the mirror as you started fucking her.

The initial shock had already worn off, and Chaewon began to pant each time your hips slammed into her cute little ass. Slapping noises filled the room alongside her breaths and your occasional grunt as you exerted as much power as you could. At this point, she was moving her hips back onto your cock as hard as you were thrusting into her.

“Fuck…” she moaned out freely. “Fuck me.”

Her ass was jiggling like crazy as you let go of her shoulders, running your hands down her body until they were on her hips. Now you could clearly see the ripples being made each time your thighs slammed into her. Her tight pussy was making it difficult to pace yourself. All you wanted was to keep fucking her senseless. She knew you were watching her all night, just like all of those other fans out there, but only you knew what she really wanted.

Peeking out from between her ass cheeks each time your cock rammed into her was the sparkle of the plug. You stopped thrusting for just a second and rubbed your thumb against the base of the plug, gently pushing it deeper into her ass.

“Take it out,” she whispered.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, grabbing the plug, worried that it was too much for her.

“No,” she answered, looking back over her shoulder. “Take it out and fuck my ass.”

“You mean it?” you confirmed after getting over the initial shock of her request.

She didn't need to say anything; the look she gave you was plenty for an explanation. She wasn't messing around - nothing facetious about it. This was going to happen, yet you still couldn't believe it. You quickly removed your cock and sank down behind her. You shoved your face between her legs, ripping the plug out of her asshole while licking at her pussy.

“Ah!” she screamed out sharply before quickly transitioning into moans as your mouth pressed against her asshole, soothing the pain. She began to moan softly as your tongue toyed with her tighter hole, teasing it, prodding away.

“You alright?” you asked, standing up behind her, your hands continuously massaging her ass.

“Mhmm,” she whimpered, staring down. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” she moaned quietly.

“Be more specific,” you commanded, giving her left cheek a rough spank before reaching forward and pulling her hair back with a touch of roughness, forcing her to look up.

“Fuck my ass,” Chaewon cried out, grabbing onto the dresser for support, looking up in the mirror directly into your eyes. “Please.”

Luckily your cock, twitching in excitement, was coated in her wetness already. You spat on your hand before rubbing against her asshole, adding more of your saliva to the bit that was already there from when your tongue was exploring. Carefully, you pressed your tip against her entrance until it entered her hole. You took hold of her hips, bracing yourself for what was to come.

Chaewon’s pussy was tight - beautifully tight - but her asshole was a whole different story. You slowly pushed forward, fighting against her body, taking utmost care to go slowly. Each inch forward was a fight against pressure. It felt so wrong yet so right at the same time. Her tight asshole squeezed every ounce of your energy out of your cock.

“Chae,” you gasped, your fingers digging deeper into her hips, your cock halfway into her asshole.

The two of you made eye contact in the mirror and she knew, she knew what you wanted. Her eyes shut tight, face scrunched up in a grimace, her teeth clenched, and she began to push her ass backwards onto your cock.

A slurry of grunts and moans escaped her lips as she pushed back with all her strength. She got most of the way, her asshole getting tighter and tighter by the inch. When she got to what seemed like her limit, you took control again. With a firm grip on her waist, you pushed your hips forward, jamming your cock all the way into her ass.

“Fuck!” she cried in a mix of discomfort and pleasure.

“Your body is so fucking perfect,” you gasped, bending forward and pressing your chest against her back. You brought your hands up her body, wrapping them around her stomach. “You good?”

“Yeah,” she groaned, her asshole convulsing all around your cock. “Give me a second,” she added in her tiny voice.

With her tight asshole squeezing every bit of your shaft, you took the opportunity to slide one hand down from her stomach and between her legs. You began to rub her, gently, working your hardest to make this feel as good for her as it felt for you.

Her pussy was still soaked, instantly coating your fingers. You inserted a single finger into her pussy, which at this point barely felt tight relative to where your cock was at the moment. Back and forth your finger went, easing her body into pleasure and euphoria.

“Fuck me,” she begged quietly. “Fuck me, please.”

Your hips slowly began to pump away at her asshole, carefully with no sudden movements. She felt so fucking good right now. You kept fingering her, almost in an attempt to distract her from any discomfort.

It did feel like her discomfort was starting to vanish, that or your cock was getting used to the tightness of her body. Either way, all you knew was the way she was squeezing your shaft felt divine. You began to pick up the pace, moving your hips in a bit of a rhythm now.

While your cock found a comfortable tempo, alongside your finger, you took the chance to turn her head sideways and kiss her. It was sloppy, definitely lacking form, but you needed as much of her body as you could touch. You repeatedly kissed her mouth, or rather tried to as her body kept shaking each time you slammed into her backside.

The lust for Chaewon took over. The next few minutes were a blur. All you knew was Chaewon’s asshole felt like heaven. Even though you never wanted to stop, you could feel your cock getting ready for the climax. Surely you wouldn’t be able to last much longer, not with how perfect Chaewon’s tight asshole felt.

“I’m getting close!” she cried out, breaking her lips away from yours, her voice three octaves higher than normal. “Don’t fucking stop.”

Her body collapsed down to the dresser and you followed suit, pressing down against her back again with your chest. One arm snaked around her toned midriff. You could feel the flex of her abs each time your cock slammed into her asshole.

She began to squeal, loudly and rapidly. Words could not explain how turned on you were at the sound of her voice. It was too much for you, and you felt yourself mere seconds away from unloading into her asshole. You quickly tried to logic out of the situation; Keep fucking her ass even though you were about to cum? Slow down to try and delay it? Pull out and cover her beautiful ass?

The options flashed in your mind, but you quickly realized it was futile. Your cock began exploding inside her, filling her up with your cum. The added lubricant from your cock made it easier to fuck her tight little asshole as your orgasm took over your entire existence. There was a lot.

Your orgasm kept going, giving you the drive to keep plowing Chaewon’s little asshole. Luckily for you, her high-pitched squeals were a clear indicator of her own impending orgasm. Just as your cock began to burn up from the sensitivity of your post-orgasm state, you felt her pussy clamp down on your fingers.

A single, drawn out “fuck” escaped her lips as her whole body began to shake beneath you. With the arm you had wrapped around her stomach, you squeezed her body gently - subtly reminding her that you were here for her. You ignored the struggle of using your spent cock and you kept pumping away gently at her asshole as she trembled in your grasp: the goal was just to make her feel good.

It took some time for her body’s convulsions to finally subside. At this point, your cock was painfully sensitive, and the tight squeeze of Chaewon’s asshole offered little reprieve from the sensory overload. You stood up straight, taking a good look at Chaewon’s body bent over the dresser.

Slowly, you began to pull back, your cock sliding out of her little asshole. The same body that made it so difficult to enter was now making it difficult to leave, squeezing tightly as you pulled your hips back. It was all worth it, just to hear that satisfying moan Chaewon released as your cock finally freed itself from her embrace.

Immediately afterwards, a glob of your thick white cum spilled out of her asshole. Some of it adhered to her body, leaving a white mess on her pussy, while most of it fell directly onto the floor. You crouched down behind her, reaching up to spread her asscheeks lightly, admiring your mess sliding down the insides of her thighs.

“How’s it feel?” you asked, fully focused on the mess between her legs.

“A lot rougher than the plug,” she giggled, pushing herself up off the dresser, standing up straight. “But fine, better than I expected.”

“Good,” you said, standing up behind her, hugging her from behind. “We should probably get you cleaned up, you still have to go back on stage don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I wish we could just cuddle instead.”

“I do too,” you confessed, looking around the room to find some tissues or wipes. “But there are fans waiting, you wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

“I know,” she agreed, accepting some tissues from you. “They deserve a good show, we honestly owe it to them.”

“Imagine if they saw what we just did,” you chuckled. “That would be a good show.”

“Inappropriate,” Chaewon reprimanded you in an exaggeratedly playful tone.

“By the way, what gave you the idea for the plug?”

“It was Kkura’s idea,” Chaewon confessed. “I… asked her for some advice.”

“Advice?” you cocked an eyebrow. “You claim nothing happened last night, yet-”

“Nothing happened last night,” she said firmly. “I never said anything about this morning.”

“The truth comes out,” you announced dramatically, wrapping your arms around her waist. “So why don’t you tell me what you and Sakura got up to this morning.”

“That’s a secret for you to find out another day,” she teased before turning around. “Who knows, maybe one day we’ll show you.”

—

“I’m exhausted,” Chaewon sighed before falling face first onto the bed.

“Awh sweetie, I’m proud of you,” you admired her, placing your hands on her back and massaging her sore body gently. “I’m sure you’ve seen, but the initial response has been phenomenal.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yeah you do.”

She sat up and smiled warmly, despite the fatigue being so evident in her eyes.

“You’re right, I do care,” she said, leaning forward and kissing you briefly. “But I’m still exhausted.”

“With how much you guys record beforehand, you’d think things would get easier after the comeback.”

“I wish,” she laughed, standing up and removing her clothes. “It was really just the hours we spent in makeup today that got to me, I nearly fell asleep like three times.”

“If it makes you feel better, I think you look amazing even without all that makeup.”

“That’s sweet and all but unfortunately it doesn’t work like that,” she muttered while reaching into her closet to find some more comfortable clothes. “Thanks for waiting, by the way. I’m sorry I ended up being late.”

“It’s fine, I know you’re busy with the comeback stuff,” you reassured her.

“Yeah,” she sighed softly.

“We’re still good for dinner, right?”

Her pouty face as she returned to the bed was all the answer you needed.

“You’re too tired, aren’t you?” you asked with a light laugh.

“I’m sorry, we just had such a long day,” she sighed, joining you on the bed and leaning into your ear. “I’m also still super sore from yesterday.”

“Don’t sweat it,” you responded, giving her butt a gentle rub. “We can just hang out.”

“I have another idea, if you’re open to it,” Chaewon suggested, slipping the shirt on. “How about you take Kazuha instead?”

“Take Kazuha?” you repeated. “You sure?”

“Yeah, why not? You two get along so well,” she continued. “Plus, I think she could really use it.”

“Wow aren’t you such a good leader,” you teased playfully. “Always looking out for your members.”

“What do you say, can you help this leader out?” she asked, climbing on top of your body. “I’ll make it worth your while if you do.”

“Going on a date with Kazuha and getting a reward? Sounds like a good deal.”

“It is a good deal,” she whispered, kissing you again. “Spend the night with her again if she wants, she worked so hard today.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“And what about the surprise?” you asked, kissing her while your hands filled themselves with Chaewon’s toned ass. “When do I get that?”

She slid off your body and lay down in her bed, pulling the sheets up.

“Tomorrow, you can make me all sore again,” she moaned with a wink.

---

A/N:

Honestly this got a tiny bit delayed, but yay here it is. I just gotta say, the support recently for my work has been overwhelming. So many kind messages! Forgive any typos, I tried to proofread if thoroughly but I have a weird gut feeling that I missed some.

Now for the story. For those of you who saw "that post", I just wanna say making this a very Chaewon-heavy chapter was not me being petty, this was just always the plan. Obviously I've teased it, but I'll just say there's no more bait when it comes to Kazuha's chapter (I've already written most of it, and yes it is next).

Please feel free to reach out and leave feedback! I try to read every message/comment/whatever. Thanks again everyone who reads and has been beyond kind to me! <3

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Little Darling

Chapter 6 - Kept the curtains closed all day

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate class.

Word Count: 4.4K

TWs: Angst, personal neglect, erectile dysfunction, talk of aging, self-esteem issues, dirty talk, handjob, possessive kink.

Elvis watches Tegan go and then turns and walks slowly up the stairs and back to his bedroom, where he remains. It had been his answer to a lot of problems in the past, but in the past there were plenty of people to check on him. Now he just sits and feels horribly lonely in his big empty house. Mary brings him food in bed and the maids clean, but he just stays there, not bothering to wash or answer the phone when it rings. The phone is mostly Tegan. Though once it’s Jerry, and somehow Mary knows (probably because it’s an unusual time, not just after the work day ends like Tegan has been trying) so she picks up and talks to him a little. She lies though, saying Elvis is busy with karate and not at home, as he’d told her to do if she happened to speak to anyone. 

When calling gets her nowhere, Tegan tries walking up to the gates to persuade someone to let her in. Elvis sees her on the CCTV and then just closes his eyes. This whole thing had been a mistake. He’s convinced that she’ll realise she’s better off without him and give up soon. Tegan doesn’t want to give up. She knows Maria thinks she’s lost her mind, and part of her genuinely wonders whether she has. But giving up just seems like such a waste of what they had. She starts off sure that she’ll hear from him again, that he’ll realise he overreacted and come running back apologising. But when days pass with nothing, when he won’t pick up the phone or answer the door, and when neither he nor Lisa are at karate for two weeks in a row, she starts to doubt herself. 

“You have to try and move on, T. He obviously has.”

Maria is being no help at all, as far as Tegan is concerned. She knows her friend is trying to do what she thinks is best, but none of it makes her feel better. 

“I can’t move on, Mar. And I don’t know why you think he has either.”

Maria starts trying to call him a womaniser again and Tegan just sighs and interrupts. “There are no other women, Mar. There are barely any other people. It’s silent and lonely in that house a lot of the time. I hate to think of him up there on his own.”

“Oh. I guess I assumed he’d have fans around all the time.”

Tegan shakes her head. “Sometimes there are one or two at the gates but that’s it.”

Maria has to concede that maybe she doesn’t know as much about Elvis as she’d first thought. Then she has an idea. 

“Don’t they have old newspapers at the library?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, if we go to the library, maybe we can find something from around the time he and his wife divorced? That might give you an idea of why he’s acting this way.”

Tegan feels a bit like her friend has gone amateur detective on her, but she doesn’t have anything else to do so they head to the library. Maybe it will help, but if not at least it gets her out of the house.

***

Sonny can get into Graceland without Elvis’ help, but he knows better than to even climb the stairs without permission, never mind bang on the bedroom door. He shouts a few times and gets no response, so he goes to talk to Mary, who confirms his worst fears. Elvis has been up there for more than two weeks, talking to no-one apart from her, and she could barely get a sentence out of him. Sonny decides desperate times call for getting Lisa involved. He tells Mary his plan - which involves her answering the phone again - and tries one last shout up the stairs. 

“EP! It’s Sonny! Just checking you’re okay, man.”

Elvis closes his eyes and groans to himself. “Fine, Sonny,” he shouts in response. “Don’t worry about me.”

***

There are plenty of newspapers from the time of Elvis’ divorce in the library, but they have a vast and contradicting list of reasons for it happening. Tegan rubs her forehead in frustration. If only journalists could be relied on to tell the truth, rather than this complicated web of nonsense. She sees how pretty Stella is though, and how much obviously younger than Elvis, too. And she notices that in a lot of the photos his ex is accompanied by a very handsome younger man, who is sometimes identified as a friend, and sometimes as a lover. She can’t help thinking that this guy is the reason for the divorce. If that’s true, maybe Elvis thinks the same thing will happen again with her. She frowns. She’s not Stella though, and she thought that she’d told Elvis that. And if this is what he'd been thinking the whole time, what he'd been worrying about, she wishes that he'd told her.

“You think this guy is the problem?” Maria asks, after they’ve looked through a few more newspapers. 

Tegan sighs. “I think all of this,” she gestures to the papers, the photos, the speculation, the cruel words, “is the problem. But that guy probably didn’t help.”

Maria nods. She was shocked at a lot of what had been written about Elvis in the press, unkind things about his looks and his age, things she’d just taken for granted as being normal when she’d read them ten or so years ago. Maybe he isn’t the womaniser she thought he was, or not anymore anyway. 

“I feel bad for him, T. Some of the stuff in here is awful,” she pauses, looking up into her friend’s face. “No wonder he doesn’t want to be seen out with you and have this all happen again.”

Tegan nods, sadly. “They printed some nasty things about him. About both of us, actually. When we went to the zoo.”

Maria reaches out and rubs her friend’s arm, reassuringly. “I’d say just ignore it, but… it’s not easy, is it?” She picks up one of the papers and then drops it back onto the table. “When it’s so unpleasant.”

Tegan rubs her eyes a little and then stands up. “Time to go, I think.” 

She doesn’t tell Maria, but the things she’d read in the paper have really affected her. And Elvis pushing her away makes her think that part of him believes them too. 

***

“Elvis!! Lisa-Marie on the phone!!” Mary bellows up the stairs to Elvis at the top of her lungs. 

Elvis sighs and looks mistrustfully at the phone. He supposes he had better answer it. Lisa’s on tour again and he has to wonder why she’s calling and also why Mary picked up, considering he'd specifically told her not to. 

“Yisa?”

There’s a click on the line as Mary puts the other phone down. 

“Daddy.”

“How are ya doin’ sweetheart?”

“I’m doing fine, thanks. I’m worried about how you’re doing. A little birdie told me you’ve been locked in your room for weeks.”

Elvis snorts. “Door’s not locked.”

“You know what I mean. Don’t be funny with me, Elvis.”

“Don’t you call me that!” 

“Well don’t you try and avoid the subject. You’re sitting in your bed, moping around right now, aren’t you?”

He huffs loudly. “I’m doin’ what I want in my own house.”

“Where’s Tegan?”

“How should I know?”

Lisa had been hoping to get him a bit mad, thinking that might motivate him to get out of bed, but it doesn’t seem to be working. 

“I thought you two were getting on well?”

“Hm. Ya didn’t see the paper before ya left?”

“No…”

“We went to the zoo. Paps everywhere. Fuckin’ don’t know why I thought it’d be any different from before.”

“You have to ignore the papers, you know that.”

“‘Snot jus’ me though, Yis. They were nasty about her. Real nasty. Can’t let her go through that kinda thing.”

“Doesn’t she have the right to decide about it for herself?”

He frowns. He hadn’t really thought about it like that. Had just wondered why she’d want to put herself through that for a guy who can’t even get it up. 

“I guess.”

“Don’t you think maybe you should go and talk to her about it?”

“Hm.”

“Elvis? Daddy?”

He sighs deeply. “Don’t think she’d want ta see me, Lis.”

“You won’t know unless you try.”

“I guess.”

“Please, daddy. For me. And for you and her. It’s not fair to either of you to just leave it like this without talking to her.”

He pouts a little. “How d’ya know I didn’t talk ta her?”

Lisa laughs. “Because I know you. I bet you just told her she was better off without you and shoved her out of the door, didn’t you?”

“Hm. Guilty.”

“I’m going to say goodbye now, and then you’re going to put the phone down and shower and then you’re going to Tegan’s apartment and you’re going to talk to her.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Lisa snorts. “Well someone has to tell you. Bye, Daddy. I’ll call you again tomorrow for an update.”

“Bye Yisa. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Elvis replaces the receiver on the phone and sighs at it. He thinks someone must’ve told her to call, and his money is on Sonny. But she is probably right, he has been wallowing and he hasn’t treated Tegan well. He’s not sure how much longer he was really planning on just sitting there, and his daughter calling is the little push he needs. He gets up and slowly makes his way to the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror and scratching his bearded chin. Not shaving for weeks has made him look concerningly like Santa Claus, so he sets to work trying to rectify that, then has a long shower. Hot water and soap make him feel almost himself again, and he pulls on a tracksuit and comfy shoes. He’d like to wear something a little dressier but there’s nothing like sitting in a bed eating Mary’s home cooking to expand your waistline, and he knows nothing like that will be comfortable. 

Mary is surprised but delighted to see him and makes him some very rubbery scrambled eggs on toast, which he eats slowly in the kitchen, passing the time talking to her a little. His mind wanders back to Tegan telling him the next time he wants to break it off with her he should warn her in advance. He doesn’t want to break it off with her, unless that’s what she wants, but he thinks he should call. 

***

Tegan jumps when the phone rings. She’d almost given up on him calling but something about the timing convinces her that it’s him. She answers in her usual way with her name and phone number. 

“Tegan bach.”

Her stomach lurches when she hears his voice speaking her mother tongue. That lovely southern drawl buzzing in her ears. 

“Elvis,” she whispers back. 

“Honey, ah-I… can I…” he pauses for a moment, trying to collect himself after hearing her say his name. “I need ta see ya.”

“Okay,” she whispers again. She wants to tell him that it’s not fair of him to demand to see her now, after he demanded that she leave. She wants to tell him to go to hell. But she can’t. She desperately wants to see him too. 

“Can I…uh… can I come round? I’ll be about half an hour.”

“Okay,” she says again, in almost her normal voice. 

“I’ll see ya, then?”

“Yeah. Bye.”

Tegan sits and stares at the phone for a while. She considers making an effort to look nice and then decides he’ll just have to cope with her in her sweatpants. 

***

Elvis goes back upstairs to rummage around in one of his drawers, remembering that he’d got that necklace back from the jewellers a while ago now and hadn’t given it to her. It had seemed too much, for some reason, when he’d thought about it in the cold light of day. He couldn’t put gold and diamonds round her neck and claim to own her at the same time as only agreeing to see her once a week and worrying about being unable to ever put his dick in her. But now it doesn’t seem enough, so he gets flowers on his way, and gin too. He pulls up into her driveway and gets out, armfuls of gifts in tow. This is how young Elvis always used to solve his problems - with money. Old Elvis doesn’t usually try to solve his problems anymore, but on the odd occasion he does old habits die hard so here he is. He rings the doorbell. 

Tegan opens it and looks at him, flowers and gin and even some kind of cute cuddly dog he’d picked up on his way too. She wants to be annoyed but she can’t help cracking a smile at how ridiculous he looks with all the stuff. And how he thinks this is the way to fix things. 

“Fuck me,” she mutters, shaking her head. “Come inside, then.”

Elvis is a little taken aback at her language but he does as she says, and then stands there sort of awkwardly holding everything in her living room. 

“I uh… I wanted ta apologise… so I got ya some things…”

She shakes her head again, rolling her eyes and taking the roses and the other bits and bobs and putting them down on the side. 

“Thanks.”

She turns back and it’s just him standing there now, without any of the things, looking almost pitiful. The urge to put her arms around him is huge, but she resists. 

“Honey… we need ta talk.”

She just nods, walking over to the sofa and sitting down. He follows, sitting right next to her and reaching for her hand. She moves it back, awkwardly.

“I don’t know if I want you holding my hand if you’re going to break up with me.”

He swallows hard, trying to look at her even though it’s difficult. She sounds so upset. But his heart soars a little at the implication that they’re still together. 

“N-no, I-I-I’m not gonna d-do that.”

“Okay.” She offers him her hand and he wraps it in his. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldna done what I did. I…” he takes a deep breath and then lets it out again. “Stella - my ex - she was a lot younger than me y’know, an’ she uh… she was cheatin’ on me for a long time with a younger guy… more like her age y’know. She uh… she said I couldn’t give her what she needed anymore, I couldn’t satisfy her…” he clears his throat and looks down. Tegan gives his hand an encouraging squeeze and he looks back up at her. “We divorced but the whole thing was in the papers… she fought me for half of everythin’... she didn’t get it but…” he sighs. “I guess I didn’t want history repeatin’.”

Tegan moves a little closer to him on the sofa and puts her other hand on his cheek. “I wish you’d told me this sooner.”

“Hmmm. I don’t like ta talk about it.”

“But I can’t know what’s going on in your head if you don’t say. I’m not psychic.”

He smiles a little. “Ya sure? Sometimes I think ya know what I’m thinkin’.”

She smiles a little back. “Well you’re a man. It’s usually sex or fighting.”

He pretends to look offended. “I can’t believe ya’d think that about me.”

“I told you I wasn’t psychic.”

He snorts. “Okay. Alright. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to ya, yer right, it’s not fair.”

She looks at him, steadily for a while. 

“What?” He asks, nervously.

“I want to be mad with you.”

“Well, um, honey, I don't want ya to be mad with me. I mean… ya  have every right, but…”

“I want to be mad with you,” she reiterates. “But I can't. So… you want to get naked and cuddle?”

He’s not expecting the question and is a little taken aback. “Uh… I… I guess so?”

She stands up, pulling him by the hand to her bedroom. Having never seen it before, he stands there looking around, interested. It’s lilac, like the feature wall in his living room, and there’s a lot of art on the walls. Then he looks over and sees her stripping and stops paying any attention to the room. He can’t help noticing she’s still wearing the necklace, and he remembers the one in his pocket. 

“Hey, I got ya somethin’ else.”

She’s pulled her top off and is just wearing her bra and sweats. “Really?”

Putting his hand in his pocket, he pulls the long thin black box out. “Here. I promised ya.”

She opens it and her hand immediately goes to her mouth. It is beautiful. Noticeably more beautiful than her cheap version. 

“Elvis. It’s gorgeous.”

“Lemme put it on fer ya.”

He unclasps the old one and carefully places it in her hand, before putting the new one around her neck. 

“There.”

She walks over to the mirror to look and it’s even more beautiful on. 

“Oh I love it, ‘raur.”

He smiles at the pet name and it somehow encourages him to join her in taking his clothes off, and it’s not long before they’re naked together in her bed, her arms and legs wrapped around him. He closes his eyes, savouring the feeling of her skin against his.  

“This is nice,” he hums softly.

She presses a kiss to his chest. “Yeah it is.”

“Sure ya wanna be with an old man like me?” He mumbles, afraid of the answer but feeling like he should ask, somehow.

“I’m sure.”

“But what if I can’t… satisfy ya… like ya want?”

Tegan shifts a little against him so she can look up into his face. “You’re pretty good with your mouth,” she teases. 

He grumbles, caught between being embarrassed and proud. “Alright, but my dick don’t work properly. Don’tcha care about that?”

“When was the last time you really tried, though?” She asks. “I mean, with someone else apart from me? I guess you still jerk off?”

He squirms at the questions and the words coming out of her mouth. “Ah, baby… ya can’t ask me things like that.”

She smiles and kisses his cheek. “Elvis, it’s the 90s. Women can talk about sex.”

He rolls his eyes to the ceiling and feels his face colour. “Haven’t tried fer a long time.”

Rubbing his chest with her palm soothingly, she wonders about talking about something he might find less embarrassing. 

“How’d you and Stella meet?” She knows the answer to this, from the things she read in the papers, and she thinks it will let her steer the conversation in a better direction.

His eyes flick back down to her face, surprised by the change of topic. “I met her on my world tour in ‘72.”

“I saw you on that tour, you know. In London.”

“Oh really? Did ya enjoy the show?”

Tegan giggles at him asking her that question, 25 years later. “Yeah I did. You were very sexy onstage.”

“Ya musta been young.”

“Fourteen.”

His eyes widen. “Oh, so ya got yer thing fer older men then.”

“Seems that way.”

“That was a fun tour. Shame ya weren’t a few years older an’ I’d have had some fun with ya then.”

She giggles again. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmmm. That tour was wild. Did a lotta things I shouldn’t’ve.”

There’s a little smile playing around his lips now as he thinks back to all the pretty girls in all the hotel rooms back then. When he could get away with doing almost anything he wanted. 

“Why don’t you tell me about some of them?” She suggests, her hand running across his chest and then down over his belly, stopping just above his dick. 

His breath catches in his throat. “Ah… I dunno about that…” he begins, but his body is betraying him in the opposite way to usual. He can feel his dick twitch thinking about those nights and he thinks Tegan must’ve felt it too, the way she’s kissing and touching his skin. 

“Please?”

“Well I uh… there were these two girls, one night. Kissin’ each other and… well I kinda like two girls together but usually that’s all they do, jus’ a little kissing… uhhhh….” he trails off as he feels Tegan’s hand wrap around his length and start pumping him slowly. 

“They did more than kissing?”

“Yeah. More ‘an kissin’. Fuck.” He stops, the image of the blonde-haired girl with her face buried in the pussy of the brunette coming flooding back to him. “God, that little girl… she was good at it, the noises her friend was making…” He looks down at Tegan through hooded eyes. “Mmm baby, that feels good.”

“It does?”

“Mmm. Don’t stop.”

She keeps moving her hand on him, steadily, feeling him fully erect now. Pressing a few more kisses to his chest, she looks back up at his face.

“Did you just watch?”

Elvis shakes his head, the feeling of his dick, hard, in her hand, giving him confidence. 

“Nah. Fucked ‘em both.”

It’s Tegan’s turn to be wide-eyed, seeing him suddenly switch from mumbling shy boy to lothario. He puts his hand on the back of her head and pulls her to him, kissing her thoroughly. She speeds her hand up a little. 

“Ya like girls, honey?”

She nods, watching his face as she pumps him faster. “Yeah I do.”

“Mmm. That’s a nice thought.” He half-closes his eyes, feeling his orgasm building inside him. 

She bites her lip. “Maybe we could find one? A girl I mean.”

“Oh honey…” he’s starting to lose control now, his head tipping back as his hips jut forward into her hand. “Jus’ a little more pressure,” his hand goes around hers and he squeezes. She kisses his neck. 

“Would you like that?”

“Ah fuck. Yes I would. You ever… go down on a girl?” He’s starting to pant a little now, knowing he’s close.

“No,” she replies, truthfully, her hand squeezing him more tightly as she speeds up again. “But you could teach me.”

The words and her hand are what he needs to put him over the edge, and he cries out as his release spurts out all over him and her hand and the bedding. “Shit. Ohmygod.”

She slowly pumps him a few more times and then wipes her hand on the sheet, figuring that the bedding needs changing anyway. Nuzzling into his neck she listens to his breathing as it gradually comes back to normal. 

“Think I’ve made a mess a yer bed, honey.” 

She laughs. “It’s okay. You can help me change the sheets later.”

“Ya might have ta teach me how ta do that…” he teases, winking at her. 

She gives him a little shove in the side. “You liked that. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”

He rolls onto his side, his hand on the back of her head again. “Mmm baby, I loved it. Now let me return the favour.”

He pushes her onto her back and his hand trails down her body, fingertips almost tickling her skin. He starts to kiss her neck as his hand moves to cup one of her breasts, thumb rubbing her pierced nipple. She squeezes her eyes shut and he can feel her tensing up. Another few touches and she’s moving away from him a little. 

“I um… I should’ve showered really before you came… you did ring and everything, maybe I’ll just shower now…” she starts to sit up in the bed and he looks at her, confused. 

“Ya smell fine ta me honey, come back here.”

She runs a hand over her hair. “I… I look a mess.”

He sits up next to her and puts his head to one side. “Now I look a mess, honey. I cut myself shaving, see?” He points to a nick on his jaw. “And my hair is really not takin’ well to bein’ washed after so long.” He ruffles it with his hand and it sticks up a little with static charge. “I been sitting in bed for weeks so my belly’s even worse ‘an usual.” Pinching his flesh between his thumb and forefinger to demonstrate. “An’... let’s be honest, I am covered in my own jizz.” He holds both hands up. “Now that’s my own fault, all of it, though ya did help with the last bit I suppose.” He looks at her for another long moment, then kisses her on the cheek. “You…you do not look a mess at all honey.”

Tegan can’t help being amused at the long and self-effacing description of Elvis’ appearance, but she still feels like she should’ve made more effort. His other exes had been so pretty. 

“I’m not your usual type, am I?”

His eyebrows knit together, trying to work out where she’s going with this. She’s right, she doesn’t look like Cilla, or Stella. But he’s been with all kinds of women. 

“Don’t know if I have one, baby.”

Tegan remembers Sonny’s description and repeats it to Elvis now. “Petite, brunette, heavy eye make-up, speaks when she’s spoken to, demure.”

“Who told ya that?”

“Sonny.”

“Sonny’s an idiot. C’mere.” He grabs her and pulls her onto his lap. “You askin’ me if I find ya attractive?”

She nods silently. 

“Are ya crazy?” He asks, pushing his nose into her cheek and then kissing it. “Yer the only girl in fuck knows how long has made me cum and yer askin’ if I find ya attractive?”

“Well, I mean the paper was right, I’m not pretty like those Hollywood starlets you used to be with.”

Elvis shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “Yer beautiful,” he tells her, kissing her cheek again. “An’ this body is unbelievable,” his hand possessively on her thigh. “And it’s all mine.”

She can feel herself blushing and a tingling between her legs. “Are you sure?”

He growls in her ear. “I made ya mine, Queenie. You’re all I want.”

***

Part 7

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man: End Credit Scene

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Post Credit Scene

Words: 786

(Master List 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 Epilogue Post Credit)

A young boy with short and unruly curls stares at the vending machines. He has very limited pocket money, having spent the morning poking through every payphone and looking under every couch cushion for the last quarter to allow him to buy a bag of chips and a TAB. 

He punches in the code for the soda, double and triple checking to make sure he’s going to get his desired treat. With success, the soda falls with a satisfying THUNK and he carefully tucks it into his coat pocket. 

Now he moves to the snack machine and punches in the number for the chips, again double checking that it is correct. The machine makes a noise, and the swirly metal that holds the chips shakes for a moment and then... nothing. 

No satisfying fall of the chips, just a mechanical hum and then silence. 

The boy frowns and reached out to push the coin return button. 

Nothing happens. 

He pushes it again, a few more times in a row, and is still met with a stillness. 

He gives the machine a shake and a smack before letting out a defeated sigh. He leans against the machine, and tries to remind himself that at least he got his soda, which is more than he could normally say. The thought that he could ask a teacher or the principal for a refund crosses his mind, but that’s quickly shut down by common sense. No one would give a shit about letting the poor freak get his quarter back. 

“Is it broken again?” Someone asks him, and he looks up to see a girl about his age. She’s holding a library book and a few sheets of loose paper. 

The boy nods. “Yeah, it ate my quarter.” He says. 

The girl moves next to him, and he’s unsure how to feel about someone so close to him. Ever since middle school started, most people avoided him like the plague but this girl seems more concerned about the vending machine. 

She digs into her pocket and pulls out her own shiny set of quarters and drops one. Both kids reach down to pick the coins up but end up bumping their heads together and laughing awkwardly. The boy picks up the quarter while the girl rubs her forehead. 

The girl takes the quarter and looks at the machine. “Which one screwed you?”

“B3.” The boy replies. 

She looks at the vending machine and pokes at the 3 button a few times before handing over her library book to him. He looks down at the cover, it’s a book on how to do origami which seems pretty random to him. The girl pulls out a folded piece of paper (is that supposed to be a fish or a frog?) and starts rubbing the folded seam between the buttons. 

“3 sticks.” she said. “That’s what someone told me at least.” 

She pushes B3 again. Nothing happens. 

“They might have also been full of shit.” she shrugs and the boy laughs at the bluntness. “Is there a different one you want?” 

He looks at the options and settles on a candy bar at the bottom. “That one.”

She pushes the buttons, and this time, it falls successfully. The boy pulls it out and quickly unwraps it. 

“Here.” he says and snaps it in half, handing it over to the girl who takes it, along with her book. 

“Are you sure?” she asks, and he nods. 

The bell rings, signaling that they have about 30 seconds to get to home room before either of them would be in trouble. The girl hands over the piece of paper she had tried to use to help him. (Maybe it’s a car? No, cars don’t have legs but neither do fish... this has to be a fish, right?)

“Trade you.” She says with a smile and quickly runs off towards her class. The boy awkwardly waves before turning and hurrying towards his own homeroom. 

The alleged frog would eventually get covered in chocolate and tossed with other garbage at the end of the week. The half of the girls candy bar would be eaten in three bites and forgotten about. Ultimately, this interaction that only lasted three minutes at most shouldn’t mean anything. 

Most meetings are rarely memorable or dramatic. Sometimes, you meet someone once and never see them again. Sometimes, you’re lucky enough to meet someone for the first time over and over. 

Eddie Munson never thought of himself as lucky. You never thought of yourself as much of anything. 

It’s a good thing that it never mattered, as the two of you met over and over until there were no more firsts and only continuations.

I've never finished a fic that was more than 3 chapters. Say something nice to me, please 💜

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n

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@sheneedsrocknroll92 @kores-mun-son-n-more @eddiebuttcheeks @kirsteng42 @dreamerjj

@moonisu @em022O @cosmorant @kurdtbean

[beautifulplaceofyouth]

JJK FF | ROYAL GUARD

CHAPTER THIRTEEN | SERIES 

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Ch. 7

Ch. 8

Ch. 9

Ch. 10

Ch. 11

Ch. 12

Ch. 13

When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess 

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: 18+

Genre + warnings: Fluff, angst, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, and just being his sexy self. Possessive over his princess. Y/n parents disapproves of their marriage but they still going with it so a little ceremony is prepared. Happily married, they make love under the stars and maybe there's pregnancy going on 👀. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!

a/n: I was on hiatus for a long time because of some private stuff but here it is. This is a little short because we are making to an end for the series so I hope you still enjoyed it!

Your father was hesitant to walk you down the aisle to the one creature powerful enough to destroy everything in his path so you understood his concerns as he held your arm in a deadly grip, feeling his discomfort for allowing his only daughter to marry a dangerous being.

As you saw your mother standing at the first row of pews, your heart clenched painfully when you saw her expression.

A mixture of sadness or even disappointment and fear crossed her face before she turned away with an expression that told you that there was no way you would ever see her again if you keep going with this marriage.

Your father's fingers dug into your arm even harder when he felt it as well but nothing else mattered when your eyes locked with your soon to be husband.

His gaze held a promise of full life of pleasure and happiness. His love for you was like an endless and eternal obsession which would never fade.

The ceremony went on smoothly, the priest saying words about the power of heavens above to bless your union and wish your happiness until death. The vows were exchanged, rings were placed on your fingers and it was time for the groom to kiss his bride.

Jungkook didn’t even wasted a second to lean in and press his lips against yours. His tongue danced against yours in a way that sent shivers through your body. It was slow yet passionate as if he had all the time in the world to make each moment count.

Pulling away, the throne room was silent after the kiss you shared and your king’s eyes were only focused on you.

“Now you’re really mine …” he murmured, pressing another kiss but this time on your forehead, “...for eternity.”

The only thing which bothered you was how your parents looked at you now, like they’d seen a monster rather than their daughter who has fallen head over heels in love with this man who could do such things with her mind.

They were disappointed because they thought that the king is just using you but you knew better. He loved you like you were the moon, brighter and brighter each day until finally, you shine more beautifully and brightly than anyone can ever hope to achieve. You knew that he loves you like you are someone special and someone he doesn’t want anyone to take from him but still, you couldn't shake off how your parents looked as you walked out of the throne room to start your new life together.

The same night after your wedding, you were sitting in the beautiful garden under the moonlight. Your dress sparkled in the moonlight while the grass was illuminated by its glow. The garden wasn’t particularly big but it was beautiful nonetheless. It overlooked the lake and the mountains surrounding it with the forest beyond.

In a soft cushioned swing you were sitting in your husband’s lap, his strong arms around your waist and his wings wrapped around the two of you protectively.

Nuzzling your neck, his deep voice rumbled softly in your ear,” How are you feeling, my love? Are you still sad?”

“A little, but not for much longer. I have you to make me feel better and you’ll always remind me of everything we’ve been through.” You replied softly, resting your cheek against the soft fabric of his cloak.

“It will be hard at first knowing my parents are against our relationship but I hope they will forgive me and accept you as my husband. I hope you’re not upset about them,” looking up at him beneath your lashes, you caress his cheek, his eyes glowing in the dark when he met your gaze.

“It’s cute that you think I’m upset over what they think of me. What matters now that your officially mine and even your parents will never stop me for having you,” before you can worry about his possessive tendencies, his lips brushed yours softly before continuing, “I can’t wait to make love to you every single night, darling.”

You flushed and leaned back against his chest with an embarrassed chuckle. “You just can’t say that, Jungkook. It’s not very gentlemanly for the king to speak in such a manner,” giggling shyly as he pressed light kisses along your collarbone.

Feeling his smirk, his hold tightens around you while his wing cocooned you both protectively and he murmurs,“It sound like you’re challenging your king to try something inappropriate to you.”

Before you could reply, he rips your dress open and you feel his warm fingers on your bare back. You hear a low amused chuckle behind you,” No bra?

Embarrassed and breathless from his bold moves and remarks, your skin feels hotter when Jungkook pulls the dress down over your shoulders till you’re bared to the cool air. Now you were naked from your neck to your hips, the poor wedding dress pooled around your waist while his large hands explore your back.

“Jungkook, someone might see us…” you whisper in a warning but still let him trace his touch along your waist until it reaches your breasts.

Taking them in his hands, he thumbs the small pink buds gently, smiling as you groan at the sensation, his thumb brushing across the nipple teasingly.

Reaching your waist again, he rips the dress completely off of you when it falls from your legs to the grass beneath you and the swing you were both sitting.

Gasping from the sudden cold, his wings shield you from the wind, the feathers tickling you gently when he spreads your legs to touch your clit with his fingers.

“Oh God,” you moan in delight, the wet friction creating goosebumps all over your skin. His fingers were gentle and slow at first until he starts stroking faster, adding heat to your already burning flesh.

”Ah...” you cry out when his teeth sink into your shoulder, biting down to leave a mark.

Your hips buck into his hand without your consent and you' sure that he could taste your arousal when his tongue licks your tender flesh.”Jungkook -ah….”

He pauses in between kissing you and nibbling lightly on your neck. You feel like you’re floating with him and you know it was probably the adrenaline that coursed through your system.

“Do you want to please me, mate?”

“Mate?” you question with wide eyes when you glance towards him.

Smiling with a glint in his eyes and his lips still covered with your scent, he replies, “My mate, of course. Don’t you know?”

Staring deeply into his black orbs, you nod slowly,” Like a soulmate,” you breathe out shakily with a blush forming on your cheeks.

Jungkook laughs, his lips curving into a sexy smile when he realizes your excitement.

Before he continues with what he was doing before, he kisses along your shoulder and neck, giving your mark his full attention when you feel it glow in the dark.

“Why does it light up like that when you touch it?” you ask quietly.

His fingers pause when you mentioned your mark for a moment as he looks at you with a strange expression but his tone remained gentle,” The magic that connects the two of us forms a sort of bond that only mates can share when touching a mark or marking each other like this. This mark proves that you’re mine and everyone who will see it, will know it too.”

Your heart beats rapidly when his long finger traces your inner thigh. It takes all of your willpower to stay as still as possible instead of moving closer to him to feel his heated touch.

"If you get hurt," he whispers huskily while nipping on one of your shoulders and then the other. "This mark will show it.”

Your breath hitches when he starts sucking your shoulder with his hot mouth.

"Jungkook…." you whimper as your back arches.

"Shh, my love... don't move. Stay still."

His hands roam your sides, fingers playing with your breasts until you're panting with desire.

“Do you want my cock, Y/n? Do you want to feel it inside you?" His words sent chills down your spine and made your body tingle with need, the butterflies fluttering around you making you giggle nervously.

Breathing out heavily, you tilt your head to the side, your gaze fixed on the stars above,”I want to do anything and everything, my king.”

Feeling him unzipping his trousers, you gasp sharply when you feel his thick length pressing against your ass.

You can’t even scream when he inserts himself in you with one rough thrust, sinking inside you so deep that you see another kind of stars above you.

That night all you did was chant your husband’s name on repeat.

Two Weeks Later

It was raining in the morning when you woke up in the big bed next to your husband.

He was still asleep, his handsome features relaxed without any trace of stress but you knew that it would change if he knows the truth about you.

It was five days before when you got the news and now keeping it from him like a secret made your stomach twist uneasily, your mind wondering how he’s going to react.

With a sigh, you slowly sat up and rubbed your tired eyes with the palms of your hands. Looking down at your naked body, you smiled sadly when you felt your body ache and wanted nothing more than to take a nice bath right now.

Bringing your hand to your stomach, you rubbed your belly gently and smiled softly but sudden feeling of sickness caused you to jump from the bed to run to the bathroom.

Throwing yourself at the toilet seat, you dropped on your knees and dry heaved for what seemed like hours with your stomach hurting like hell. Your eyes sting with tears as you tried to keep yourself together and when you’re finally done throwing up and you’re left alone in the bathroom, you collapsed onto the floor next to the toilet.

Letting your head fall back against the wall with a sob, you heard footsteps approaching and quickly wiped away the last few streaks of tears on your cheeks, forcing yourself to stand up and meet Jungkook's concerned gaze with red rimmed eyes. You couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“Baby? Are you okay?” He crouched in front of you, frown deepening as he noticed the tear tracks streaking down your face.

Sniffing as your nose ran and he held out a damp rag which you gratefully accepted, you wiped your face carefully with the cloth. When you were certain that you were presentable enough for him, you glanced back at him through hooded eyes and offered a weak smile.

“I’m okay. Just feeling sick,” you lie with a shaky voice, looking down ashamedly when he raised an eyebrow at you.

“You’re the worst liar in history, sweetheart,” his eyes darken when he steps closer to you.

Pulling you into his chest, his wings springs out of his back, protecting you while tucking you into his embrace.

“I feel my seed inside of you. You can’t avoid me forever. You know that I can feel our bond and everything what is going on with you,” he whispered huskily, nuzzling the crown of your head affectionately.

You feel like your heart stopped at that moment,” And what is going on?”

“You’re pregnant, darling. You can’t keep that as a secret from me anymore. I would know because we are bonded after all.”

You bite your lip to stop the crying,” You’re not mad?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad? You are carrying our child!” he exclaims happily, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

You can hardly contain your joy now that Jungkook knew the truth,” Do you really want this?”

Chuckling in disbelief, he kissed your mouth without any care that you just vomited all your previous night’s dinner so with a sharp intake of breath, you feel his hand wrap around your delicate throat.

“Do I want this? You silly girl, of course, I want you and our child. I didn’t breed you just to reject you,” smirking at his words, your mouth falls open.

What he said sounded so wrong coming out of his mouth.

Did he mean…

No way.

“And knowing that you smell even better with my baby’s scent inside of you, it makes me want you more,” growling low in his throat as his free hand slips behind your head to grip both of yours tightly,”So tell me, sweetheart; why would I not want our baby?”

Tears started rolling down your face when he lifted one of your hands up to place a kiss on your knuckles while staring deeply into your eyes.

“You really mean it,” you whisper with wonderment filling your body as he nods and kisses your knuckles again.

“I really mean it. Now come here,” he murmurs with a soft grin before pulling you on top of him and burying his face into your hair.

“I should take a bath…I stink,” you grumble against his bare skin.

“Not to me.”

God, this man will be the death of you.

Be continued…

p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners

DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY

If you like, please reblog or like the post so I can post the next chapters :)

Taglist: @lepau123 @the-princess-of-mischief-1998@11thenightwemet11 @khadeeeeej @almosttoopizza @jiminismine4ever (If you want to be tagged, please message me)

🅒 All rights reserved

[friendly-neighborhood-boricua]

[6] You Get A Visitor in the ER

Summary: You're working overtime when you get a visit from an unexpected someone who makes your shift just a bit less excruciating.

Notes: Marauders modern elementary school AU, kindergarten teacher!James Potter x nurse!single mom!reader.

A/N (26/7/2024): this is edited but still kinda short so I may come back to it at some point and add some things ... second to last chapter yay!

Previous Part: James Takes Liam to School Next Part: Kindergarten Graduation Series Masterlist here

About two weeks ago, you woke up in the middle of the night to a hard thump from Liam’s room

You were in his doorway in a flash, of course, because what if he’s dying

And tbh you were kinda close

Turns out he fell out of his bed and the lower right side of his abdomen was hurting really bad

You figured out pretty quick that he probably had appendicitis, which is definitely not ideal

So one rather tense ambulance ride and night in the ER and OR later, you wheeled Liam out of the hospital in a wheelchair so he wouldn't mess up his stitches too much after literally getting an organ removed

You texted James to let him know what happened and that Liam would be staying hope from school for a week to recover

(James had managed to give you his number under the guise of offering to drive Liam to and from school in the future and although you haven't had to ask or even use his number at all, he still has you as one of his pinned contacts)

(Sirius and Remus make fun of him for it)

(Your contact photo is actually a photo of Liam where he's smiling really big while mixing cookie dough for your birthday, which was about three months ago)

As always, James was totally sympathetic and understanding and even dropped by your apartment after school with work for Laim so he wouldn't fall too far behind

You took the week off from work to watch Liam, of course

But you're paying for it now bc your CNO super sucks and isn't understanding at all when it comes to your kid

So now he has you working a fucking double to make up for your missed days

Two 12-hour shifts in a row, 6AM to 6AM

Not fucking fun, dude

(Your CNO is the absolute worst—this is the one that James is pretty sure violates labor laws pretty consistently)

He actually wanted you to do three doubles over the next two weeks but Poppy (not the CNO, but she’s been a nurse at this hospital for time immemorial) told him off, so you only have to do the one today

And at the very least, it’s in the ER

Which isn’t terrible

Definitely not as bad as med-surg

I mean yeah, it can be stressful but it’s nowhere near as bad as medical dramas make it out to be, and it’s pretty rewarding most of the time

It’s a Friday, so Tonks watched Liam in the morning and took him to school, where Ms. Hope picked him up and held onto him for a couple hours until it was time for Ron's sleepover, which she then dropped him off at

So he’s safe and taken care of

And it’s been a pretty quiet night tbh

There was a big car crash during rush hour in the morning but beyond that, nothing super crazy or out of the ordinary

So now you’re on triage duty with Poppy (which just means you and her are hanging out and talking while waiting for something—anything—to happen)

Lily, one of the administrative aides that checks people into the ER, finally pokes her head into the ER at half past ten at night, and it’s rather urgent

Apparently someone’s cut their had pretty badly

You lose a rapid-fire game of rock paper scissors against Poppy, so it’s you that goes to evaluate the patient

But when you enter the ER fast track, you’re really quite surprised

"James?"

To be fair, James is also quite surprised to see you, it's just that he's more smiley and pleased than distressed

He’s hovering near one of the beds and has what seems to be a kitchen towel wrapped around his palm, which you now see has been bleeding quite profusely

You’re at his side embarrassingly quickly and asking him standard questions as he stares at you with a rather glassy look on his face

What happened? Cut my hand while cooking. Can you feel your hand? Um, yeah, it … it hurts pretty bad. Can you tell if it’s still bleeding? I can’t really, no. Do you feel lightheaded at all? Mm, yeah, just … just a bit. Did someone drive you here? Yeah, um, Sirius did … they told him to wait in the lobby.

James is in shock, that much is clear

You ease him to take a seat on the bed and quickly grab a couple forms, which you fill out as you continue asking him questions

Poor boy gets really concerned when you make for the door to the ER proper but ofc you reassure him you’ll be back in a second

You ask Poppy to get Dr. Longbottom before quickly returning to James

And James—Sweet Summer Child James—he's just asking you what you’re doing here so late, if Liam is at Ms. Hope’s, just random questions that aren’t super related to one another

He’s super out of it but you entertain his thoughts and answer whatever questions come to his mind as you ensure that his kitchen towel is applying a decent enough amount of pressure

Alice shows up pretty quickly with a suture tray and asks you to clean James’ cut as she gets ready, which you readily do

You also let her know that James isn’t exactly all there, to which she smiles amusedly and says she can see that lmao

James is kinda confused at first when Alice tries to take away the towel around his hand, but you gently explain what's happening and he understands pretty quick

He looks down at his hand when you finally uncover the cut (it’s long but clean—easy to stitch right up) and poor boy gets a little too light headed at the sight of all the blood that’s covering his hands and the kitchen towel and your latex-gloved hands

James just about falls over onto your shoulder lmaooooo

He doesn’t quite pass out, just like a severe wave of lightheadedness

You quickly encourage him off of your shoulder and you and Alice manage to lay him down on the hospital bed just so he won’t fall off of it and hurt himself if he does decide to pass out

The cut is easy to clean despite how bloody it is, and you round the bed to James’ opposite side as Alice prepares to administer the anesthetic and sew James’ hand up

This entire time, James has just been following your around with his eyes

He’s never gotten to see you work before and it’s really quite interesting to him

And he loves that you’re taking care of him (Such Gentle! Yay!)

Alice asks you to keep James talking and distracted while she sews him up and you happily obliged

It’s kinda hard to keep James talking though because he just keeps asking you questions

By the time Alice is finished with James’ hand, you’ve told him about Liam’s recovery, your shift so far, and how shitty your CNO is for making you work a double

James is much more lucid by the time his stitches are finished which is great because he was sort of starting to worry you

But he’s pretty much all there now :)

He’s also disclosed to you that he cut his hand while trying to take the pit out of an avocado, which you find absolutely hilarious even though you couldn’t really laugh at your own patient

Alice leaves you to wrap James’ hand in protective gauze and give him post-op care instructions

And James is honestly thrilled that your shift has been a quiet one

Because he’s sure that if anyone beyond you two were in the fast track, they would have seen clear as day how he looked at you while you wrapped some soft gauze firmly around his palm

He’s lucky though because you’re tired after working for about sixteen hours with eight still to go, so you don’t really notice the look in his eyes

You give him the normal spiel—wash around the area of the stitches with soap and water not hydrogen peroxide, put vaseline over it, wrap in a non-stick bandage, the works

By the time you’re done, James is just kinda staring at you

You tack on at the end that he can always text you or drop by your apartment to make sure he’s taking care of them correctly

Sirius leaps up from his chair in the lobby when he sees James finally come out of the ER

He was lowkey super worried bc he knows James is the slightest bit squeamish around blood

But now he’s also like super confused bc James is looking at his newly bandaged hand like it had the best compliment ever written on the palm

It’s only on the car ride home that Sirius finally weasels it out of James

Apparently Liam’s mom was working in the ER and she was the one who bandaged up his hand for him after he got stitched up

And apparently, when James was complaining lightly that his palm still hurt right as he was about to leave, she brushed a light kiss against his palm and whispered something to him about how kisses make everything better

Sirius practically has to pick his jaw up off the floor as he and James walked into the latter’s apartment, where Remus had apparently finished their rather bloody attempt at guacamole

And then of course he made James explain what happened to Remus, who just laughs and shakes his head

James’ only regret is that he was too stunned to do anything except wave goodbye as you left

Next Part: Kindergarten Graduation

[celestie0]

so your insecure about your smut I hear ? if it makes you feel better I still mentally jerk it in memory of the following:

kickoff chapter 6 particularly when reader’s collapsed over the sink and gojos still on his knees behind her just WATCHING and then when their eye fucking eachother in the mirror and readers hand is reached behind to grab the back of his head THATS SO SEXY

the tension in chapter 8 i know there was only a proposition of smut but when it was stripped away I think that’s when I fell in love with the series because the slow burn is just everything - disclaimer I don’t jork it to that I just like the scene

The duration of kickoff chapter 11 couch scene 👌. My stomach does the thing every time, dry humping is elite, and the high school in love-ness between them 😭I’m throwing up

THE IHM SNEAK PEAKS

I refuse to believe you think those are bad as well like tf???? And not just the lazy morning sex that had me bust a load but the death row meal comment??????? Making out while doing calculus in his head so not to get a boner???? And for someone who’s not a fan of dirty talk like babe come on, the way you capture all the different sexy aspects of that sexy man like the vulgarity had me HOT and then his dumbass down bad-ness just UGh the need to put a baby in him right now

anyway that deserved its own paragraph but then obviously there’s works with smut as the actual premise

L&L specifically the bj scene I think you awakened my praise kink with that one - btw will we ever get a part 2 because I’m pretty sure that plan fell through but just letting you know I’m all up for seconds, no pressure if it’s not a part of ur agenda though

Round the clock.

actually hold up let me elaborate on these above two points in my full opinion because I really want you to understand this, the tropes/pairings/dynamics which your brain births are so fucking hot that the smut scene is instantly made good even if it’s not your most proud part of the writing process, this links to the common knowledge which ihm reader preached in the recent chapter- men will get hard to anything - but unfortunately it’s not so easy as a woman, personally that’s why I tend to resort to reading cause there’s nothing more psychologically immersing and of course the point of fanfiction is we’re already in love with our husband gojo so just add a little sexy lore ie. older, boxer, babysitter and babe I’m already halfway there cause of the quality of your ideas and writing, smut is only part of the experience and it’s not necessarily the most important

Last but not least that one domestic drabble you wrote I know it’s kind of a pwp moment but the position wifey reader and toji did it in omg and when he called her a slut and when he had her cockdrunk and babbling and begging for a baby 😫✋

honorable mention because like I said smut isn’t everything: the scene where ihm Gojo is shirtless fixing the kitchen sink and drinking oj from a mug and then when he picked up reader while she’s in a measly silk gown … yeah I jork it to that😔

in conclusion ur smut makes me horny🙂 so I think your sufficiently successful in achieving its primary purpose, please don’t be so hard on yourself and I hope you can learn to find more self satisfaction in these parts of your work where you lack confidence and see it in a better light

<333

ok hi anon im back! lol

first of all thank u sm. some people might think a fanfic author would desire a good dicking down from their favorite fictional character and a blunt shortly thereafter. but no. THIS is all a fanfic author truly wants.

HAHAH no but in serious you’re so sweet to point outtt these little details i could sob :”) i was cheesing so hard in the morning when i read it haha!!

i always forget the kickoff ch6 party bathroom scene happened xd sometimes i get thrown into a state of shock when i remember i wrote it. and that’s the thing!! i was so excited n giddy to write it bc it was back when i didnt think too hard about my writing haha. somewhere along the line i just became so self conscious ab smut :( but anywho yes the couch scene in kickoff ch11 had me screaming while i was writing it i was so excited to eventually post it so i’m so happy you enjoyed ittt aaa :”)

STOP bc i have SO much smut planned for ihm 😭😭 ranging from borderline crack smut to passionate lovemaking loool i can’t wait to get to those parts of the series but ouf yea them insecurities be haaaaard. i think i just don’t see a lot of representation of the kind of smut i like to write in the fandom very much so it gets me second guessing 🥲 like idk i like dirty talk but it has to be kinda on the nose?? like the whole part where ihm gojo says the thing ab doing calculus in his head so he doesnt get a hard-on 😂😂 like idk it’s so cute n hot to me in my head but it’s kinda niche to my preferences haha

sorry i’m rambling but like ugh same w the morning sex scene i wanna get to that part sooo bad but i just hope i don’t second guess that scene once i get to it 😩😩 bc oh my the way my coochie was clenching the whole time while writing it LOL i sob

aw yeahh i was supposed to do a pt2 for l&l but hmm i kinda got bored of the concept. it was my first major oneshot smut n like aaa i like it but :0 i think it does stand good alone as just one part

thanks my dear :”) i agree i think…well, i have a hard time giving myself credit for anything usually haha, but i do think that the character dynamics i created outside of i guess the smutty stuff rlly helps? i guess its kinda like a buffer when i get into writing smut bc im like oh yknow even if this isnt the hottest thing my readers have read i hope that they enjoy it bc they like my versions of gojo xd so you’re so sweet for validating me on that HAHAHA

also stooooop i love that scene in ihm. the one where he picks her up effortlessly while she’s on all fours in her grandma nightgown on the floor 🤣🤣 idk if this is so hyperspecifically arousing but like the thought of sporty muscular gojo having just come back from a run n he’s manhandling vintage silk nightgown-wearing reader while she’s has barely awoken from sleep is so cute n silly n hot to me. sorry it sounds like im jerking myself off here but i just love ihm gojo sm honestly i would like to fuck him until his balls look like raisins :/

anywhooo you’re too sweet. like seriously. and i saw your follow up ask, an hour?? imma sob. i’m saving the link for this ask to look back on whenever i feel bad ab my smut writing abilities!! or just writing in general. i fear u may have saved me anon LOL i haven’t felt this excited to write smut in a while! i appreciate you :)) much love!

[butterflydm]

restructuring the wheel of time into ten books

So a little while ago, there was a poll about people's favored choice for how many books should have been in WoT -- I voted for 'ten' and this is, I guess, my argument for a ten book series.

Books 1-5, I don’t really have any notes on when it comes to structure. Every book is complete in and of itself. While books 2 & 3 do have something of a repetitive structure, I think that works better in a book series than in a tv series.

The only suggestions that I would have structurally would be minor things like “tweak Rand’s power levels in the early books to keep him more in line with what he does later” (aka what the show is doing, lol) and maybe not having Ishamael present during the Battle of Falme and having that purely against the Seanchan, so that we don’t have super similar climaxes for Rand two books in a row (Rand could get his wound in Tear instead). And those are the sorts of things that I think it might be likely that Jordan would have done if he’d known exactly how long the series would end up being -- ex. he clearly backed down on Rand’s power jump when he realized that the series would be going for longer than he’d originally planned.

One minor plot change that I would do is put Perrin feeling Rand tug at him as the epilogue of TFOH or thereabouts. Just a little hint of Perrin in there, showing that he'll have a bigger role in the next book.

Book 6, though... I have some thoughts there.

Lord of Chaos/A Crown of Swords: this is the first book where the beginning really takes some time getting off the ground -- there are several Salidar chapters that could have been combined. This is really the first place in the books where characters hang around doing nothing (we're told more than once in Elayne & Nynaeve's PoV that they're barely being taught anything and that being there feels pointless), waiting for it to be time to actually Do Some Plot (the big Healing of severing) and it's just the beginning of a bad trend.

The other structural change that I would suggest is not doing the weird feint with Mat's character where he starts off doing a "Rand's general" storyline and then creakily transitions over to Salidar instead. Since Mat isn't actually going to Illian, he doesn't need to be marching south. He could just still be in Cairhien/Caemlyn and have Rand take him to Salidar from there. As it is, we end up spending several chapters on a storyline that gets abruptly terminated part of the way through the book so that Mat can do a completely different storyline instead and that really pads out the pages unnecessarily (this was a really bad trend that happened with Mat's character in particular more than once in the books; his storylines would just stop in their tracks and get shifted to something else entirely and never go back to his original storyline; ex. we literally never find out why/what the murdered caravan of Tuatha'an had to do with anything, because Mat never bothers to tell Rand their message because he spends the entire rest of the book series doing completely unrelated things and only ever sees Rand again for a brief conversation that is dominated by everyone catering to his slaver wife -- we never get payoff for the vast majority of Mat's storylines, even the minor threads). It really does feel like Jordan started writing the book, then went "oh shit, Mat needs to meet & marry the DotNM" and just abruptly changed Mat's story to yeet him to Ebou Dar without actually rewriting the earlier bits in the book.

Outside of that, the main change I would suggest being made in these books is improving Min’s characterization and Min and Rand’s relationship by NOT having Min change herself for Rand. Let Rand fall in love with Min as she is, not the dolled-up version of Min that she invents for Rand’s benefit (there are other characterization tweaks I would recommend as well, but Min is kinda the biggest issue imo).

The main ‘story arc’ for Rand that's set up in LoC is ‘defeating Sammael’ and it should take place over the course of a single book, not two separate books. Parts of ACoS would be saved for the next book but the Illian climax should happen in the same book that the story starts. I would title this book “A Crown of Swords” so that the focus is on Rand’s story, not the Forsakens' (and part of the oddness here is definitely due to Jordan changing his mind about doing the Taim-Demandred combo, so he sets up something that ends up going nowhere).

Inciting incidents:

Egwene is summoned to Salidar leading to Rand sending Mat there as well

Min arrives in Caemlyn, leading to The Box Incident

Turning point:

After the Box incident, Perrin and Rand stage a fight so that Perrin can go find Masema

Egwene sends Elayne, Nynaeve, Mat & co to Ebou Dar to look for the Bowl of the Winds and they actually take advantage of Mat being ta’veren right away instead of waiting around for a month (all the delays in Mat's various storylines had a knock-on effect in delaying everyone else's storylines, imo -- the Slog happens because everyone is waiting on Mat, whether they know it or not)

Climax:

Rand defeats Sammael

The attack of the Seanchan on Ebou Dar begins

A Crown of Swords/The Path of Daggers/Winter’s Heart: The Path of Daggers only needs some of trimming imo. Once that trimming is done, I think Elayne’s section of the prologue of WH could slid into it fairly neatly as a bit of an ‘upbeat’ epilogue, which would be a contrast to the darkness of Rand’s ending in the previous book and his defeat here when he tries to repel the Seanchan from Ebou Dar.

Also have Mat interact with Tuon throughout this book, essentially like he did in WH (Mat's interactions with Tuon in WH make sense with his previous characterization; it's in CoT & KoD when Jordan had him completely reverse on his moral outlook on slavery so that he would be willing to make out with a slaver - genuinely, how Mat goes from sympathizing with slaves in WH to sympathizing with slavers in CoT remains one of the most baffling writing choices that I've ever run across; especially with how limp and one-sided it made everything about Mat & Tuon feel in those books for me, because Jordan drained all the potential interesting conflict out of the pairing so that he could focus on Mat navel-gazing about his self-inflicted prophecy woes, making him just Min 2.0. *sigh*). This book I would choose to be named “The Path of Daggers” out of the available options.

Inciting incidents:

Elayne & Nynaeve use the Bowl of the Winds as Ebou Dar is invaded by the Seanchan and Mat gets left behind during the escape

Perrin & co find Masema, etc.

Egwene uses the rule of law to take control of the Salidar Aes Sedai

Turning point:

Mat first meets Tuon -- maybe give Mat & Tylin’s first meeting to Mat & Tuon instead, where he accidentally greets her using the Old Tongue, thus sparking her interest (cut out Mat & Tylin’s ‘relationship’ entirely, it was zero percent needed and is needed even less if Tuon arrives in the first wave of the attack, as I'm suggesting here)

Rand learns about the invasion by the Seanchan and goes campaigning

Egwene & the Aes Sedai jump to Tar Valon and begin their siege (since they no longer need to kill time to let Mat's plotline happen)

Climax:

Rand fails to defeat the Seanchan & gets attacked in the Sun Palace but kills the attackers here instead of us needing the Far Madding detour (which just felt like a less emotionally-impactful version of The Box to me and Jordan giving in to his desire to write a travelogue)

Faile learns Masema is dealing with the Seanchan and kills him, cutting off that entire path of slog by not getting kidnapped (we really only need one kidnapped wife imo)

Mat escapes Ebou Dar, kidnapping Tuon along the way (there's our allotted Kidnapped Wife)

Egwene is captured by the White Tower Aes Sedai when the rebels block off the harbors to Tar Valon

Winter’s Heart/Crossroads of Twilight/Knife of Dreams: All three of these books would have greatly benefited from being massively cut down to a single volume. This one also has a touch of TGS in it, mostly because Egwene had a lot more story left after KoD than pretty much any other character except maybe Mat.

Specific items to change or cut:

Cut out Far Madding entirely (Rand killed the attackers in Cairhien). Since Tuon arrived with the initial Seanchan invasion fleet in Ebou Dar, Nynaeve can be honest with Rand about Mat being left behind but Rand can see (in his color swirl vision) that Mat is no longer in Ebou Dar and has already escaped, filling that plot hole (the list of contrivances to keep Rand from knowing what happened to Mat frustrated and annoyed me so much when I was reading books WH-KoD).

Have the love confessions and Rand sleeping with Elayne, but don’t do the bonding yet. Have Rand leave Min behind in Caemlyn when he takes Nynaeve off to do the cleansing, so she can (emotionally) bond with Elayne & Aviendha. Since Min was just at ground zero for a terrible attack that was focused on Rand (which should, to Rand, prove his fears about being a danger to the people he loves to be correct!), it really is so bizarre that he keeps backpacking her around to dangerous place (Far Madding) after dangerous place (the Cleansing) after dangerous place (parlay with the Seanchan) and mostly shows that Jordan a) just had no more plot beats for Min until she played pregnancy test for Tuon in the epilogue and b) primarily saw Min as Rand’s Hero Reward rather than a character in her own right. But the whole affair mostly just undermined Rand’s character journey for me (he's so isolated! ...except for his live-in girlfriend).

Don’t do the Shaido plotline at all (have the Shaido scatter back to the Waste post-Dumai’s Wells); instead this should be where Perrin starts his wolf boot camp, so that he actually has a more appropriate amount of time for training before the Last Battle (and his emotional storyline would be a conflict with Faile over her killing Masema). I guess you can do the Whitecloaks storyline here.

Have Mat be the one to make a treaty with the Seanchan, and have Semirhage order the ‘airfleet’ against the White Tower instead of Tuon doing it. Instead of Mat accidentally giving himself away for nothing, have the Mat-Tuon marriage as part of the deal to seal the treaty, since Mat has figured out that she believes that he needs to be her husband, per prophecy, so he uses that to actually get concessions out of her. Because we aren’t trying to convince the readers that Mat is the sort of person who is capable of falling in love with a slaver in the space of a single month, we don’t need to spend two whole books wandering the Altaran countryside doing random shit and instead can get to the politics of it all. Let Mat actually continue to be smart and empathetic in this section of the storyline, rather than lopping off those parts of him and turning him into a zombie bootlicker yes-man. You can still layer in elements of Mat seeing potential in Tuon to be more than just a slaver, just don't have him toss his entire brain & morals away in order to kiss her ass.

Out of the available titles here, I think “Knife of Dreams” is the best one.

Inciting incidents:

Egwene undermines Elaida from within the Tower

Perrin starts Wolf Boot Camp

Rand & Nynaeve cleanse saidin

Turning Point:

Rand faces off against Semirhage and captures her

Egwene finds out from Verin about the extent of the Black Ajah in the White Tower

Aviendha leaves to go to Rhuidean to become a WO

Mat finds out that sul'dam (and thus Tuon) can channel and actually uses it as a negotiation tactic against her, please let this man use his brain during literally any of his conversations with Tuon, I am begging you. The way he reacts in the books to finding out that Tuon is a sul'dam and then that Tuon can channel is SO FUCKING BIZARRE. He just Does Not Care about slavery at all in CoT & KoD and is all Me Me Me about all of the Tuon revelations. In the previous books, Mat claims to be selfish even while constantly doing heroic/selfless things, but in CoT & KoD, he really does just come across as a genuine selfish bastard, someone who only thinks about himself and who doesn't give a shit about anyone else.

Climax:

Tuon and Mat agree on the terms of their marriage alliance and Say The Words

Elayne defeats her fellow claimants to the throne; maybe Min helps root out that Darkfriend captain in her guards, which would lend weight to her being able to do the same later for Tuon and also make it so that Min is at least as helpful to Team Light as she was to the Seanchan

The Seanchan (sent by Semirhage before she went to face Rand) attack the White Tower.

The Gathering Storm/Towers of Midnight: ToM has never made any sense as a title, so I would call this combined book “The Gathering Storm”. This section is more about putting things in a somewhat different order than they happened in the books, with a few tweaks.

Inciting Incidents:

Egwene defeats the Seanchan at the White Tower

Semirhage is freed by Elza and captures Rand, and (stealing @markantonys's excellent suggestion) Nynaeve is the one targeted when Semirhage forces Rand to her will, making Rand push Nynaeve away 'for her protection'

Rand and Egwene have a tense encounter that makes her doubt his sanity.

Turning point:

After taking the test to become full Aes Sedai, Nynaeve gets Lan's bond from Myrelle and then, since Myrelle was literally right outside the Black Tower at the time, Nynaeve and Logain deal with the Black Tower

Egwene deals with the assassins in the Tower (Gawyn subplot)

Perrin deals with the dreamspike and kills Slayer | Egwene deals with Mesaana

Aviendha returns from Rhuidean and reunites with Elayne & Min

Climax:

Rand attacks his father, leading to the moment on Dragonmount

post-epiphany, Rand actually goes to check in on his friends and loved ones, thus making his epiphany have an impact on the storyline -- he Travels to where Mat is and is the one who helps Mat get from Point A (Altara) to Point B (Caemlyn) and letting them actually have a real reunion, delivering Aludra to Elayne, where she is ready to make weapons. In Caemlyn, he talks to Elayne, Aviendha, & Min, leading into the bonding moment.

Mat saves Moiraine from the Tower of Ghenjei.

(epilogue) Tuon arrives back in Ebou Dar and takes control of the Seanchan forces, letting everyone know that there is now a treaty with the Westlands. Her going back with a treaty already tentatively in place would actually make the triumphant tone that the books try to take her with her return make a lot more sense than... readers apparently supposed to be happy??? that one slaver is taking over from another slaver, even though Tuon is just as willing to do awful shit to our protagonists as Suroth was, so it feels like a distinction without a difference to me. Technically, is Tuon marginally better than Suroth? Eh, maybe, but not by much.

A Memory of Light: Most of my changes here either follow from earlier ones (we already have a treaty with the Seanchan, so Mat can just go to Merrilor to start General’ing right away), but apart from that:

Let the Emond’s Field Five (plus Elayne) have a group reunion! (easier to do in this version where Mat's storyline isn't all about sucking up to Tuon, I admit)

Let Perrin and Mat be at Rand’s funeral! (genuinely so bizarre that Sanderson didn't do a one-sentence fix of this tbh; that would have been the easiest thing in the world to fix. One sentence is all you would have needed.)

Let Moiraine be the person who realizes that Rand is still alive, not Cadsuane.

The battle itself could have been cut down somewhat in order to leave more room for character interactions (we probably don't need three separate sword duels for Demandred; kinda excessive). This is a goodbye to people some of us spent over a decade loving; we should be given proper goodbyes to them.

I also feel like there's no need to have everyone and their brother know that Rand is in a relationship with three women? And it felt pointless to have people know that Rand is the father of Elayne's kids too. Have Rand tell his dad (and then have Tam actually act like he has that knowledge during his scenes with Elayne; it is genuinely bizarre how formal Tam and Elayne's interactions were in AMoL; she knows that he's Rand's dad! That's the grandfather of her kids!) but there's no need for a continent-wide memo about Rand's love life. I know this was likely all because of the epilogue where the whole world knows about ~the three~ grieving widows but this is all about a theoretical world of only ten books total, so some tweaking of the epilogue is happening regardless.

Inciting incidents:

Moiraine arrives (with Mat) to help heal the rift between Egwene and Rand

Darkfriends attack Caemlyn through the Ways

Climax:

Rand vs The Dark One

Everyone else vs the Shadow’s forces

So, that would leave us with ten books total (plus the New Spring prequel):

The Eye of the World: the journey begins

The Great Hunt: more important plot elements are introduced, like the Seanchan; Rand begins to learn leadership

The Dragon Reborn: Rand accepts being the Dragon Reborn & takes on a full-time leadership role; Mat now has his luck & Perrin has met Faile

The Shadow Rising: Perrin takes on a leadership role when he leads the defense of the Two Rivers

The Fires of Heaven: Mat takes on a leadership role during the Battle of Cairhien, creating the Band of the Red Hand

A Crown of Swords: Egwene takes on a leadership role by becoming Amyrlin Seat of the rebel Aes Sedai

The Path of Daggers: Elayne takes on a leadership role by putting in her claim to become Queen of Andor

Knife of Dreams: Rand & Nynaeve reverse the Dark One’s counterstroke and then Rand tries and fails to make an alliance with the Seanchan (fake!Tuon); Perrin goes to wolf boot camp; Mat makes a treaty with the Seanchan via marriage alliance to the DotNM; Elayne gets all ten Houses she needs to secure the throne; Egwene has all-but won over the White Tower as well.

The Gathering Storm: we all prepare for the Last Battle; Rand has his epiphany, in whatever form it takes; Mat saves Moiraine; Perrin defeats Slayer; Egwene and Elayne prepare their respective areas for TLB.

A Memory of Light: the journey ends (for this age)

I feel like this gives us a more consistent build-up to the ending, with each piece building upon the ones before, and not taking an excessive amount of time with subplots in the endgame. Each character also has a more consistent progression as well.

Rand

tEotW: worries about being a male channeler

TGH: told he is the Dragon Reborn but assumes the White Tower wants to use him as a false Dragon

TDR: goes on a journey to prove whether or not he’s TDR and proves that he is; taking control of Tear

TSR: becomes the Car’a’carn

TFoH: takes control of Cairhien

ACoS: takes control of Illian

TPoD: has his first major failure when he is unable to repel the Seanchan from Ebou Dar

KoD: succeeds in cleansing saidin but fails to make peace with the Seanchan

TGS: has rock-bottom moment and then his epiphany; he learns he doesn’t have to do it All On His Own

AMoL: re-seals TDO

Egwene

tEotW: sets off an adventure

TGH: experiences great trauma at the hands of the Seanchan

TDR: Black Ajah Hunter

TSR: Goes to the Aiel Waste to begin her training

TFoH: One of her mentors (Moiraine) dies

ACoS: is called to take on a leadership position

TPoD: takes control of the rebel Aes Sedai

KoD: besieges Tar Valon and is captured

TGS: become Amrylin of a united White Tower

AMoL: leads in the Last Battle and becomes an inspirational figure

Perrin

tEotW: discovers that he’s a wolfbrother

TGH: is first placed in a leadership position when Rand disappears

TDR: meets Faile

TSR: defends the Two Rivers (Slayer introduced)

TFoH: feels the tug of ta’veren and leaves the Two Rivers again

ACoS: saves Rand

TPoD: finds Masema; Faile kills Masema

KoD: Wolf Boot Camp

TGS: deals with Slayer in the Wolf Dream

AMoL: leads the wolves at the Last Battle (instead of it being Elyas)

Nynaeve

tEotW: sets out to protect the four kiddos

TGH: adopts Elayne as a fifth kiddo

TDR: Black Ajah Hunter

TSR: Tanchico & the SAD bracelets; Egeanin

TFoH: defeating Rahvin & capturing Moghedien

ACoS: Salidar & Ebou Dar

TPoD: using the Bowl of the Winds

KoD: cleansing saidin

TGS: the Black Tower plotline

AMoL: with Rand at the climax of TLB; being the Ultimate Protector

Mat

tEotW: finds the dagger

TGH: blows the Horn of Valere

TDR: discovers his luck

TSR: Rhuidean & prophecy

TFoH: the Battle of Cairhien & the Band of the Red Hand

ACoS: Salidar & Seanchan invasion in Ebou Dar

TPoD: meets & kidnaps the Daughter of the Nine Moons

KoD: forms a marriage alliance with the Daughter of the Nine Moons

TGS: saving Moiraine

AMoL: General of the forces of Light at the Last Battle

Elayne

tEotW: meets Rand, heads off to Tar Valon

TGH: gets a found family in Egwene, Nynaeve, & Min

TDR: Black Ajah Hunter (meets Aviendha)

TSR: Tanchico & the SAD bracelets; Egeanin

TFoH: bonding Birgitte; Circus storyline

ACoS: Salidar & Ebou Dar

TPoD: using the Bowl of the Winds & heading to Andor

KoD: becoming Queen (plot climax)

TGS: bonds Rand (emotional climax)

AMoL: powerful leader during the Last Battle

[nikethestatue]

A Match Baked In Heaven

Sorry for the long break y'all. Life and all. Here is an update.

Chapter XV

Things Ain’t Like They Used To Be

The beginning of the end started innocuously and unremarkably. There was nothing to suggest that things would be changing. And they shouldn’t have been changing either, because everything was…happiness. 

Azriel had disappeared soon after Christmas dinner was over and the last of the trifle was eaten, and Elain couldn’t find him. However, since she couldn’t find Piglet either, she hoped that her boys were together. 

She had a fun night, singing carols, teasing Nesta along with Cassian, and risking her wrath, because Cassian was hilarious and Nesta was all pissy since Elain and Cassian teamed up for the first round of games. Then, while drinking after-dinner cocktails, everyone played more games, and Feyre and their father won. Rhys and Elain came in second, but Rhys lamented that Azriel wasn’t around because he’d beat everyone. 

“He is wildly competitive,” Rhys whispered to Elain. “Not surprising considering he is a professional athlete, but that man will win any game.”

It was then that Elain realised how much she missed Azriel next to her. After their silly row earlier in the day, things weren’t the same and Elain hated it! She hated that their first Christmas together wasn’t perfect. The fact that she even had him with her here, in Rosehall, with her family, having Christmas with all of them like he was part of the family, part of her, was exhilarating enough! She never thought that it would happen; that she’d be at her ancestral home, with the man she loved, with her sisters, her father, her dog, but here they were. Therefore, while the festivities were still going strong, Elain slipped away from the reception and went to find Azriel and Piglet. Just before she rounded the corner though, she heard Cassian’s voice calling her,

“Hey, petal. Wait up.”

Cassian looked a little buzzed, his jacket off, his white tuxedo shirt unbuttoned at the collar, the bow tie untied and hanging over his neck, his hair flowing just past his shoulders. No wonder Nesta, the icy, prickly Nesta, was all aflutter over him. The man was almost pornographically handsome, in the most primal of ways. This was the man who was going to bend you over, fuck you within an inch of your life, and you’d turn around and thank him. The raw, beasial beauty of him was truly breathtaking.

Elain stopped her thoughts spiralling out of control, because it was probably inappropriate to think of her sister’s new love interest in this manner. But Elain was…horny. Since last night, she was horny (well, she’s been horny and a little desperate for a while now) and the phantom feel of Azriel’s wicked hand inside of her still lingered and offered a pleasant memory by keeping her sore and wet.

Nevertheless, Elain thought that if Azriel wasn’t her soulmate, she’d absolutely give Cassian a lot of attention. Because this man was devastating. 

He came closer, propping his arm against the wall. Elain looked up at him, all 6”6 of him and he snickered, “Well, we destroyed them at Pictionary, didn’t we?”

“We annihilated!” Elain agreed savagely, nodding.

Cassian laughed at her, but then his face changed to a more serious expression, and he asked,

“Az treating you good, petal?”

Elain frowned at the strange question and said,

“He is!”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Why?”

Cassian avoided answering directly, instead, saying,

“He can get a little intense, you know,”

Elain laughed at that.

“You think?” she shook her head. 

“Are you okay with that?”

“That he is incredibly intense, barks ‘you are mine!’ and has me saved as ‘Mrs. Night’ on his phone?” she raised her brow at Cassian.

He pressed his tongue into his cheek and after a long pause, nodded at last. 

“Yes, that’s what I mean.”

She shrugged, 

“He is also generous, loving, unbelievably inappropriate but also strangely gallant. I have to take the good with the bad and the questionable,” she said decisively.

“He is new to all of this,” Cassian reminded her cautiously.

“What?”

Cassian paused again, until he finally uttered, 

“Love.”

Elain swallowed loudly, unable to respond. 

She and Azriel had never gone as far as the ‘L” word. They’ve exchanged words of tenderness, and Azriel never stopped coming up with new and extravagant endearments for her. But he never said that he was in love with her, and neither did she tell him the same.

“You know his history,” Cassian continued, “he never felt like this about a woman. Never been with a woman long enough to feel much of anything.”

“Cass, I think it’s premature to discuss all of this,” Elain muttered, her tone panicked.

Cassian ran his tongue over his lower lip and said, “Just be gentle with him, Elain. Be kind to his heart. He is not himself because of you.”

“What do you mean?” she demanded, worrying her lip with her teeth.

“Nothing really. Just that he is navigating a wholly new territory. He isn’t as confident as he appears to be.”

“Azriel…he is very special to me,” Elain murmured.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you shouldn’t tell him,” Cassian warned quickly.

Her brow furrowed, “what, exactly?”

“Special. Don’t use words like that with him. You either confess your love for him and tell him that you are his. Or nothing, He doesn’t do things halfway. It’s all or nothing with him.”

Elain sighed, thinking. What Cassian was saying made sense, though she wasn’t sure how to approach that conversation yet.

“Thanks Cassian. But we are just fine. Brilliant even.”

He grunted something unintelligible and then said, “well, good night then. Happy Christmas, Elain. I didn’t think that that’s where we’d be for Christmas, but I can’t say that I mind it.”

She smiled and nodded, “yeah, I don’t mind it as well. Happy Christmas.”

Elain turned and she was almost out of sight, when Cassian called after her again.

“Oi!”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, watching him rub his chin, looking pensive.

“You been to his flat?” he questioned. 

Another odd inquiry.

She nodded, “yes. We went to his yesterday. Why?”

“You liked it?”

“The views were amazing!!” she said enthusiastically. “But Canary Wharf…you know,” she shrugged indifferently.

“Boring, eh?”

Elain grinned, “it is!”

“Did you see a cage anywhere?” he suddenly asked.

“A cage?” Elain looked utterly confused. “What cage?”

“So no cage?”

“Oh, for Piglet? Yes. Az got him three beds and a ton of toys, but also a huge cage! Can you imagine?” she giggled.

Cassian stilled at her words.

“Yeah,” he murmured thoughtfully. “He was talking about it.”

“Pigled isn’t into cages,” Elain huffed. “He’d bite him if he was put in a cage!’

“That’s what I told him too,” Cassian smiled at her. “Well, good night then.”

“Night Cass!”

-

Elain opened the door to the bedroom quietly and tiptoed inside. It was dim in the room, only one lamp illuminating the spacious, luxurious space. She heard Piglet and his little snores first. Then she found Azriel lying on the bed, dressed in joggers and a t-shirt, his arm thrown over his eyes. He was barefoot and looked comfortable in his sleep, his breathing deep and even. Piglet was sleeping on his side next to his dad, oblivious to everything, not even sensing Elain’s arrival. Or if he did, he didn’t react. Great guard dog he was! But she supposed he was trusting Azriel to protect her from serial killers lurking in the garden. He was apparently ‘off duty’.

She watched them for a moment, until suddenly Azriel opened his arms, but not his eyes. Wordlessly, Elain approached the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and burying her face in his chest. His arms banded around her and he pressed her closer to him. She didn’t care that she was wearing her dress and that her voluminous skirt took up half of the bed. She didn’t even care about wearing shoes. 

He stroked her bare back lightly, his harsh, uneven skin and strong fingers sending shivers of pleasure down her body. 

“I thought I lost you,” Elain whispered, her voice sounding desperate.

He sighed and drew his hand along her spine.

“No. Not just yet.”

“Yet?” she gasped and looked up at him.

His face was sombre, but then he smiled at her and caressed her head, and then her face.

“Are we fighting?” she asked, knowing how stupid she sounded, but she didn’t even care. She knew that she kind of freaked out at him in the morning and it was so silly–all because of ‘Mrs. Night’ on his phone. 

“Do you want to fight?” he asked seriously, watching her closely.

She shook her head. 

“No. No I don’t.”

“Alright then. We’ll leave the fighting until after Christmas.”

“But you left,” she whispered. “So you are angry with me?”

He smiled at her gently and lied, “nah, I just have a headache. Pink was also all partied out, so I took him out–sorry, there is a pile of his turds somewhere in the garden–and then we came back here.”

Elain rubbed her cheek against his neck, breathing in his crisp, sharp scent, as she clutched his biceps, feeling her fingers tremble. The stress of thinking that he’d left her, that he got into his car and drove away suddenly hit her so hard, she shivered and felt cold sweat cover her body at once. 

“What's wrong?” he asked, feeling her tension and her unease. He tipped her chin up and looked down at her with a frown.

“Nothing,” she said. “All is good,” she stroked his arm. “All is good now.”

She sat up, still straddling him and then cupped his face in her palm. 

“Everything is good, Az. Because you are with me.”

He gave her an assessing glance, like he didn’t believe her, and then asked, “is that enough?”

“Yes. For me it is.”

She reached into her bag, which was left by the bed, and took out a small box, wrapped in a blue ribbon.

“I wanted to give you your Christmas gift.”

She blushed at the words and ducked her head shyly, handing the box to him. Azriel sat up, cocking his brow and looked at it with interest, and maybe even surprise. When she attempted to slide off him, he wrapped his arm around her hips, keeping her in place and said, “open it”.

Elain pulled on the ribbon and then opened the box. 

He looked inside and then declared with a grin, “yes, yes I will!”

“Wha…”

“It’s a ring! You are asking me to marry you?” he said definitively. “So I am saying ‘yes’,”

“My god!” she swatted at him. “That’s not what it is! You are a madman!”

“Maybe I am, or maybe I am not, but I am now an engaged madman,” he told her. “Put a ring on it, baby,” and he wiggled his finger at her.

Exasperated, Elain sighed dramatically and announced, 

“It’s for the headaches you get…that everybody gives you. It’s supposed to stimulate brain activity and specific pressure points and relieve your headaches,”

He stared at her and then laughed out loud, startling Piglet, who looked over his shoulder with a sleepy, bewildered gaze wondering what was happening.

“Sorry little lad,” Azriel patted the pug’s side. “Go back to sleep.”

“This is amazing, beautiful!” he exclaimed then. “And invaluable. Between my teammates and Cass and Rhys, this is the perfect gift!”

Elain smiled happily and added, “it’s not the only thing it does. If you press here,” she showed him, “you’ll get background noise to sleep, or drown out any other noises. I imagine that travelling with your team could get loud at times.”

“Yes, indeed,” he agreed, looking at the ring and pressing invisible buttons. 

“It measures all your vitals,” Elain added. “And tells you to sleep if you aren’t sleeping enough,”

“Where did you get this?”

“I had it custom made. Just for you.”

Azriel put the ring on his thumb and twisted his tattooed hand in front of his eyes, admiring the new bring. It was an elegant piece–black, with a silver insert.

“Do you like it?” she asked shyly, rubbing her finger over his thumb.

Azriel cupped her cheek in his hand and pulled her closer to him.

His breath fanned over her bare shoulder, when he placed a gentle kiss on it.

“You are magical, Elain Archeron. A little faery,” he whispered. “I am one lucky fucker.”

Elain snorted and scoffed, “your language is the worst!”

“Sorry, pretty girl, you’ll have to live with it for the rest of your life,” he shrugged innocently. 

“Oh is that so? The rest of my life?” 

He drew his thumb over his lower lip, his expression sobering and becoming more serious.

Elain thought that he’d go on some tangent about marriage and her being his, but instead, he said, “I wasn’t sure if I should give you your present…”

He rustled under his pillow and then pulled out a box. It was much too large for a ring, and Elain, who was waiting with bated breath, wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed. But whatever it was, she was excited to see it. 

“Stay where you are,” Azriel ordered firmly, insisting that she remain seated atop of his hips. “You may take the dress off, if you so desire,” he suggested casually.

“I’ll decide once I see what you got me,” she told him firmly and he smiled. 

“Well, happy Christmas then,” he murmured and opened the box for her. Elain’s breath skittered over his hands when she beheld a stunning diamond and sapphire necklace displayed against the cream satin of the box. It was a Vacheron Constantin no less–the finest of the finest. Not a trifling thing either–a ‘garden’ necklace of clusters of large diamonds and even larger sapphires, shaped into a chain of flowers. A gift that a husband would give his wife for the holidays (if he were a millionaire footballer that is). 

“Azriel,” she sucked in her breath, entranced by the exquisite beauty of the necklace.

He was about to unleash on her for saying ‘I couldn’t possibly’, but she beat him to it and suddenly–to his utter delight–pulled up her long curled hair and presented him with her long delicate neck. “Put it on me?”

Azriel’s head went quiet. There was something profound about this moment, with Elain allowing him to put this visible ‘collar’ around her neck–accepting him, permitting him to do that to her. For her. He moved closer: her breasts, still contained within her structured dress, pressed into his chest, and he loved the feel of them, while he wrapped his arms around her and fastened the lock of the necklace in the back of her neck.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, watching the diamonds gleam and sparkle in the low light.

“Is it too much?” she wondered, as her fingers slid over the stones.

“No. Just enough,” he decided, admiring her. “A little bouquet of diamonds and sapphires for my pretty flower girl.”

Elain's necklace

Fucking beat a crown that Rhys put on Feyre. Damn peacock. 

“May I remove this unnecessarily big dress for you?” Azriel offered smoothly, and without waiting for an answer, he found the zipper in the back of her gown.

“Az, we can’t do it!” she hissed in alarm.

“Do what, exactly?” he teased, while he slowly slid the zipper down.

Scrambling and bumbling, she muttered, “you know! that…You know what!”

“That and what, huh,” he chuckled. “It’s not like I’ve been anticipating getting laid tonight, sweetness. I mean, I’ve pretty much lost all hope by now, but,”

“Excuse me!” she exclaimed. “We’ve been dating for 3 weeks!”

“I feel like it’s been much longer, since October.” He corrected her, while opening the dress up in the back and letting it fall away from her body.

“October? October?!?!” she cried. “No way! We only met in October.”

“Well, and I’ve been dating you since I’ve met you,” he reminded her calmly. “Not sure what you’ve been doing.”

“Well, I,”

“Yeah, so it’s pretty reasonable for me to expect to have sex with my girlfriend after three months,”  he glared at her.

“I can’t!” she argued weakly. “Not with my dad in the same house…and Piglet right here,”

“Oh, bring dad into this, why don’t you! And Pinky is a dog, who cares?!”

“A dog? He isn’t a dog. He is my son!” she argued fiercely. “I gave birth to him, you know!”

“Uh-uh, did you now? I beg to differ,”

“Why is that?”

“Because I don’t remember making him, and the only son you’d be birthing would be mine,” he stated definitively. “So there is that.”

“I don’t think that’s how it is,”

“I do. But we’ll have fun making ours,” Azriel promised and gently squeezed her nipple between his fingers.

While she was pontificating about being her pug’s birth mother, Azriel managed to bare her to him and now he whistled softly to himself. 

A fine pair of full, pear-shaped breasts had tumbled from her gown and they were incredible. Azriel has had his share of peeks and glances, but even last night, when he was fingering her, she was still wearing a bra. Now, the titties were out, and before Elain could make up some excuse, he was dipping his face to them and before she could even gasp, he latched onto her nipple with his lips, pulling hard, and sucking half of her breast into his mouth. His hand wrapped around her neck–not choking her, but keeping her keen and at attention–while he circled his tongue around the nipple, as he held her on top of him firmly. Elain inhaled sharply, watching him, while he crouched in his uncomfortable position, and watched her. 

Elain was warm and soft, and her sublime tit was like melted butter on his tongue–silky and soft and rich. She felt so good in his arms, shivering every time he gave her little swollen bud another suck, his thumb stroking her lovely neck, his fingers brushing against the cold of her new necklace. He also liked the way the ring looked on his thumb. Black and sexy.

He pulled away from her breast and then licked her other nipple, nipping on it with his teeth, before biting roughly. She yipped, but he only drew his thumb over her mouth, quieting her down.

“I am not gonna fuck you tonight,” he whispered, sucking on the other nipple as well, making it nice and puffy, “only under one condition,”

“What?” she breathed sharply, her eyes wide, her skin hot in his hands.

“You are sleeping nice and naked. Next to me. Don’t care about Pink here, don’t care about dad, or anyone else. You’re sleeping naked and I am jamming my dick into her bare arse.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Ellie. Although of course you may wear the necklace.”

“Ohhh, you are so magnanimous!” she scoffed, though her fingers tangled in his hair and she very clearly enjoyed what he was doing to her. He kissed each lovely globe with small, tender kisses, then he licked around the nipples, soft and slow, savouring every bit of her skin. Elain panted and rubbed against him, the thin material of his joggers getting pleasantly damp against her pussy. 

“I am that,” he nodded in agreement and then fell back on the pillows. “Go clean up and I expect you next to me, nice and naked and wet, sharpish. Got it?”

Elain rolled her eyes, but climbed off of him and walked to the bathroom, dragging her dress around her hips, while he was chuckling an evil laugh.

While Elain was in the bathroom, Piglet woke up for a few minutes and then demanded that Azriel spoon him. Azriel moved away a bit, and Piglet moved closer, then Azriel moved again, and Piglet sidled up to him. Once Azriel got the message, he tugged the pug closer to him, but the moment he removed his hand, Piglet put his paw on his hand, indicating that he better be snuggled right this minute. So Azriel had no choice but to cuddle the dog next to his body, and Piglet put both of his paws over Azriel’s forearm, keeping him in place. Piglet was going to take full advantage of this situation–he wasn’t allowed to sleep in the same bed with his Elain and while he could nap in her bed–which he often did–sleeping overnight wasn’t permitted. Here, today, he knew he was going to sleep with her and Az, and he was going to require full-on snuggles while he was at it. As soon as he had Azriel in his possession, Piglet fell back asleep.

“Close your eyes!” Azriel heard.

He laughed.

“Absolutely not!”

“Fine, I am not coming out then.”

“You gonna sleep in the tub, Ellie-girl?”

“If I have to!”

He snorted and then said, “fine. My eyes are closed.”

“Truly?”

“Absolutely. Come on, come out.”

Elain tiptoed into the bedroom and gasped, because Azriel was snuggling with the sleeping Piglet, and had his eyes WIDE open.

“I hate you,” she moaned.

But Azriel’s big hazel eyes lit up at the sight of her and she gushed, “you are so fucking gorgeous, Ellie. I can’t believe my stupid luck.”

Elain blushed at his words and wrung her fingers nervously and she silently walked across the carpet. She had kept her word–she was completely nude except for her new gorgeous necklace. 

“You’ll have to be the biggest spoon, baby,” Azriel told her. “I’ve been made to spoon the fur son. He was cross with me when I attempted to move,”

Elain chuckled, secretly enjoying how his eye devoured her. She never considered her body to be anything remotely perfect, but the way Azriel was looking at her made her think that maybe she’d been too hard on herself. Maybe seeing her through his eyes was all she ever needed, because he saw the beauty in her that she never allowed herself to acknowledge. 

She got in bed next to him–his massive body warm and firm, exuding his innate strength, but also calmness, all the while brimming with power. It felt good. Like she was in the safest place in the world. 

“Did you like Christmas?” she asked quietly, kissing his shoulder.

“It’s a good Christmas,” he stated simply. “You and me and the dog. Well, and family, I guess.”

She laughed at that. He was very nonchalant about the ‘family��� bit.

…Surprisingly, even though there was a naked Elain in bed with him, Azriel fell asleep quickly and without any usual struggles. Perhaps, her gift was already working? Or perhaps he was in the place where he always meant to be.

When Azriel opened his eyes, bleary sunlight was already streaming through the windows. From where he lay, he could see the muted pink sunrise, pale light tentatively touching the ground in the vast park of the estate. 

He could get used to it, he thought. The life of a country gentleman: caring for his manor, a bunch of dogs and horses on the grounds, a glass of whiskey at night by the fireplace, his Elain tending to her gardens, being the lady of the house, running charities and organising their social calendar. Yes, he wouldn’t mind that at all. Wouldn’t mind railing her on the daily either. 

Elain’s gorgeous naked body was outlined by the morning light, the lovely curve of her bottom so sumptuous, Azriel had to bite his lip to keep himself from groaning out loud. She stood by the window, her foot tapping softly behind her, her long hair cascading down her back. Azriel was pleased to see that her nipples were still nicely plump and swollen from all the attention that he’d paid them overnight. 

Gently setting Piglet aside Azriel rose swiftly and sat up on the bed, rubbing his face sleepily. He inspected his leg–it looked normal now and therefore, he knew that his little holiday was coming to an end. After the new year, he was going back onto the field. His last checkup was going to be on December 28th. If he was cleared to return to playing, his first game was going to be the first week of January. And it’s not that he didn't want to return to the game–he’d missed it: his team and his boys and the thrill of the game–but he also knew that his time with Elain and Pinky would suffer once he got back on the road. And that made him sad. 

He looked at Elain again, silently observing the sensual heaviness of her breast, the pretty curve of her belly, the softness of her shoulder. With sudden, acute clarity, he also saw her standing in the same spot, but this time, with her stomach round and heavy with his baby. 

Fuuuuuck. He was feeling broody. 

He rubbed his face again, trying to shake off the image. But somehow, it was seared into his brain now. Elain glorious nakedness didn’t help him clear his mind of dreams of impregnating her and watching her get round with his son. 

At last, he stood up and walked soundlessly towards her, startling her when he brashly cupped her warm bare pussy in his hand.

“Az!” she gasped. 

He kissed her neck softly and murmured, “that’s my name, baby. Good morning, my Ellie.”

She melted against him almost immediately, her sweet arse moulding into his cock just like he wanted it. Pink didn’t budge the whole night, and as much as Azriel tried, he couldn’t spoon Elain, because the dog was in the way. Even when Azriel released him a couple of times and tried to turn on his other side, Piglet growled and then crawled over him and planted himself between their bodies. There was no escaping him.

“Our first Christmas morning together,” Azriel whispered, and buried his face in her neck, gently stroking her soft pussy, while he cupped her breast in his palm and teased her nipple lazily.

“Oh…” she breathed blissfully, “this feels so good…”

“I am here to make you feel good, Ellie. That’s going to be my full time job. Fuck football!” 

She laughed and patted his hand, “not yet. I want to have a brawny footballer as a boyfriend for a little while. Before you get all old and become a coach,”

“Old?!” he exclaimed, outraged. “I am going to be 30!”

“Yeah. Old.”

“No respect for your elders,” he shook his head.

“Oh, look, look,” Elain pointed outside, and then bounced on her toes with excitement. 

Azriel looked out, seeing that the garden was covered in fresh snow, just in time for Christmas. Out in the cold, Nesta Archeron was running laps. She was thin, ramrod straight, her hair tied in a severe ponytail. 

“She runs every morning,” Elain sighed, shaking her head. “She never misses a day. Can you imagine?”

Azriel didn’t want to remind her that he also ran every day, and exercised for a few hours too, so he simply said, “she is very dedicated.”

Elain huffed, muttering, “well, I’d rather have a cup of coffee and a croissant.”

Azriel did not doubt that one bit. But he only kissed her shoulder and her neck and caressed her silken breast in his palm. He liked his soft and plush Elain, where he could touch and squeeze her lush body to his heart’s delight, and feel her supple flesh and not a pile of bones. 

“Ohmygod,” Elain gasped. Azriel looked to see what got her so excited and then smirked with amusement. 

There was his brother, in a pair of joggers and a sleeveless hoodie, his long hair tied into a topknot, running behind Nesta. 

Cassian pounded the ground steadily and when Nesta heard him, she turned around and was clearly surprised to see him. He greeted her indifferently, like this was what he did every day. And he did–Azriel knew that Cassian ran too. But he was quite sure that Cassian wasn’t so dedicated that he’d normally run on Christmas morning. No. This was a ruse. Cassian wanted to run with Nesta.

Elain watched the two with rapt attention and then turned swiftly in Azriel’s arms and asked, “do you think he fancies her?”

“Yeah he fancies her,” Azriel confirmed simply and kissed the tip of her nose.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. Can’t you see?”

“You know, she never dates!” Elain exclaimed in frustration. “Never ever. And…well, I like Cassian,”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I think he would be good for her. He is warm and funny and good.”

Azriel agreed. And Cassian would be the right person for Nesta too. He could handle her. He liked a challenge, but he was also emotionally intelligent enough to know what a woman like Nesta needed. 

“Alright,” Azriel decided, hauling Elain up in his arms, “let’s go back to bed and make out.”

-

Piglet was overheated.

Which is why he was presently lying on the cool stone tiles of the palace and was being fanned by Feyre and his Elain. They sat next to him with magazines in their hands and were frantically trying to cool him off. 

“You couldn’t have been more careful?” Feyre hissed at her husband accusingly. “And you?!” she snarled at Nesta. 

“Okay, Feyre darling, in my defence,” Rhys said pacifically, “I am not well familiar with a pug’s internal cooling system in a snowball fight,”

Elain couldn’t help but snort a laugh.

Azriel was observing all of this with a disdainful look on his face, as he shook his head.

“This damn pug is more of a diva than Mariah Carey!” he crossed his arms on his broad chest, watching the two girls on their knees, fanning–literally–over the panting dog. “Just in the last 48 hours, he ran into a wall and knocked himself out, then he attempted to poison himself with some flowers, and now he is overheated from a snowball fight. Whatever will the next 48 hours bring…” he pondered.

Dad was being mean of course, but Piglet didn’t even care. Because whatever. He had so much fun during the snowball fight that he’d do it all over again. Hey, yolo and all!

-

So this is what happened:

When Piglet woke up in the morning, it was because dad and his Elain were doing something that looked a lot like wrestling on the bed. They pushed at him, and he woke up, only for the big man–Cass–to burst through the doors the next moment and scream ‘snowball fight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

Then all hell broke loose, because dad yelled at Cassian, who already left the room, for seeing Elain naked, and Piglet didn’t know what all the fuss was about, because he saw his Elain naked all the time and it was no big deal. He escorted her to the loo and to the bathroom pretty much all the time, just to make sure that she was okay and didn’t need his help, or that she didn’t just disappear somewhere. 

Everyone had gathered downstairs soon after. There wasn’t even breakfast! Piglet only got some water and a banana, which he had to eat in a hurry, so he trotted to the gathering holding it in his mouth. 

“Couples can’t be together!” Cassian declared loudly. 

“Why not?” Feyre demanded instantly.

“No. That’s not how it works. You can’t be with Rhys. And I can’t be with Nes,” he continued.

“We aren’t a couple,” Nesta reminded him coolly.

“But I want to be with Azriel,” Elain whined, clutching Azriel’s hand.

“Yeah,” Azriel nodded, “I wouldn’t mind being with Ellie too,”

“Like I said,” Cassian rolled over all the objections, “no couples.”

“So what do you propose we do?” Rhys demanded, tapping his fingers on his bicep impatiently.

Piglet watched the humans negotiate for a good ten minutes, while he chewed his banana and rolled his eyes. They were slow and indecisive and kind of annoying too.

“What about Piglet?” Elain exclaimed at last.

Piglet looked at all of them, challenging them with a wordless yeah, what about Piglet, indeed?

“He doesn’t have thumbs,” Rhys reminded her. “He can’t make snowballs.”

At that, Piglet huffed. 

Cassian rubbed his chin and said, “whoever gets him will have a distraction, for sure. He might come in handy actually,”

At least somebody was talking sense. 

Piglet got onto his hind leg and suggested that maybe Cassian take him on his team. But, naturally, as luck would have it, Piglet ended up on the worst team ever–with Nesta and Rhysand. They picked the short straw which egregiously meant him. 

The final breakdown was Cassian and Elain, Feyre and Azriel, and Nesta and Rhys and Piglet.

And so it began. 

Rhys had the audacity to ask Nesta “does he understand commands?”

“Yeah, when he wants to,” Nesta scoffed. “Usually when there is food involved, he is all ears. If not, then they are for decoration only.”

Piglet was upset that he wasn’t on the team with Cassian, who was hidden behind a tree with Elain, designing an honest to god tactical warfare plan. But it didn’t matter because Piglet was gonna show Rhys that he could be an important addition to the team. And he didn’t do everything for food. Like for example right now. He didn’t even have breakfast, but here he was, rushing across the field, distracting everyone, while Rhys sprung on Azriel and pummelled him with snowballs. 

Piglet crawled between bushes and then destroyed stockpiles of snowballs that Elain had made, incurring Cassian’s wrath as the big man bellowed ‘you wily little bastard!’ 

Elain wailed ‘I can’t believe you did that!’ but Piglet only rolled in the snow, completely obliterating her work, before running away.

As far as he was concerned, all was fair in love and war.

Azriel chased Nesta with snowballs, wiping her out, and while Rhys valiantly attempted to defend her, Feyre rushed across the field and kicked all of his snowballs, flattening them ruthlessly, and then ran back, followed by Rhys’s mournful scream ‘you are my wife!!!’

She shrugged and saluted him, while Cassian sprung on her and dumped heaps of snow on her head. She screamed hysterically, as the snow fell into her coat, and unsuccessfully fought back the attack.

Meanwhile, Azriel sprinted towards Elain, and basically tackled her, landing on top of her in a heap of snow. He managed to half-bury her in the pile, before she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. Azriel melted at once, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her back, which allowed Cassian to sneak up on him and toss a bunch of snowballs at Azriel’s head.

“Sorry, petal!” he bellowed, since some of the snowballs landed on Elain as well, but she gave him a thumbs up and laughed wildly.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Azriel fake-gasped, wiping his face.

“You are defeated!” she announced. 

“Never! With Piglet’s help, Nesta and Rhys certainly had the upper hand. Piglet kept pretending to fall, or be struck by snowballs, he howled and rolled around, he also repeatedly rushed various people and successfully took them down, because they lost footing as they didn’t want to step on him. 

As much as Cassian tried to insist that the couples stay apart and not couple, by the end of the fight, Rhys found his way to Feyre, Azriel to Elain, and even Cassian draped his arm over Nesta’s shoulders (and she didn’t shrug him off). 

That’s when Piglet collapsed for real, panting within his red Arsenal jacket.

Feyre saw him in the snow and hurried to pick him up, crying loudly, ‘Piggy don’t die!! He is going to die!’

Elain was much calmer about this and told her distraught sister, ‘He won’t die. He is just hot. But we’ll need to fan him.’

“Oh and by the way, Feyre and I won,” Azriel shrugged innocently.

“I beg to differ!” Cassian argued at once.

“Yeah, according to who?” Nesta snarled at Azriel, her hands on her hips.

“Okay, let’s reassess what has taken place,” Azriel offered calmly and all of them headed back to the manor, arguing loudly about who’d actually won. 

Piglet felt like he’d won. 

-

Piglet was very pleased with his massive haul of Christmas presents. 

He received not one, not two, not three, but FOUR sticks!! Four. Excellent sticks. 

As expected, dad gave the best presents: in addition to one of the sticks, dad also got him a pack of used padded Amazon envelopes, two pairs of socks, a whole bunch of toys, a Chelsea ball and a small plush tree decorated with shiny balls, which were also soft. All for him to destroy. 

The rest of the gifts consisted of bags of treats, chewys, more balls, and piles of outfits. 

Christmas lunch was incredible and he ate ham and roast beef and then came to the conclusion that Christmas was his favourite.

Now, after closely supervising the loading of all the gifts into the car, including all four sticks, Piglet lay in his seat, having been hugged and kissed by everyone about a hundred times. He was heading home and he was hoping that everything would go just as well as it’s been going. 

-

January 6th was a surprisingly sunny day. Warm for this time of year, the apricity of sunshine dispersing the gloominess of the winter chill. The feeling in the air was almost…innocent. Full of expectation and new tidings. A new year indeed.

That didn’t stop Piglet from being put in air jail, and he was being carried by Azriel. On their morning walk today, Piglet tripped Elain by wrapping the lead around her ankles, then, once in the park, he barked and scared a baby, and then ran with some big dogs, chasing them loudly, until they turned around and began chasing them, and he dodged them, but fell off a retaining wall. After that, Azriel picked him up and now carried the pug like a baby. 

Now they were seated at The Ivy Canary Wharf and having brunch. Piglet agreed to be quiet and discreet and in return, Azriel fed him ham under the table and strawberries from the fruit salad. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Elain said slowly, sipping her Rhubarb Bellini. 

“About?” Azriel sliced into his eggs and looked at her.

“Him,” she nodded towards the dog under the table. “His leg. When we went to that vet here,”

“Yeah, I remember,” Azriel nodded.

When Piglet fake-poisoned himself on Elain’s birthday, the vet that they took him to worked in a fancy private practice. It cost Azriel 1,300 quid to get Pinky to take a laxative, but the vet told them about a new experimental treatment for dogs with missing legs. It was a robotic leg, which would sense his movements and respond accordingly, effectively working just as well as a real leg.

“So what about it?” Azriel pressed.

She didn’t answer right away, and the pause felt somehow important, pivotal. He wondered if Elain was going to ask him for input and they’d make a decision together.

Truly, it should’ve been a family decision.

He and Pinky were tight. They were besties. 

“It would be good for his joints,” Azriel told her. “Right now, his hips and shoulders are stressed because of the extra pressure that he places on them. Since you’ve been pumping him full of longevity shots, he might be living for 20 years for all we know, and you don’t want him to struggle with his joints.”

Azriel spoke from experience. He’s been running for 20 years. 

Elain pouted and muttered, “I am not pumping him full of longevity shots…”

He chuckled. 

“It’s expensive,” he added quietly. 

“I can pay,” she said quickly. “It would be worth it.”

He shrugged and offered an ambivalent nod. 

At that moment, Elain’s phone pinged with an incoming message.

It wasn’t her regular phone, but her work one, and while they typically didn’t use their phones at the table, she smiled at him apologetically and he nodded. 

Who had a matchmaking emergency on a Saturday morning?

Azriel didn’t really give a shit. His mood soured and he was playing with his eggs listlessly, internally annoyed. What did he need to do to fucking make her understand that they were a pair? A couple? What did he need to do to make her yield? It was exhausting and he was irritated and angry and dark thoughts swirled in his mind. What would it take for her to consider him her man? Her partner? Did he need to force sex on her? Steal her away? Lock her in the cage?

“...I’ll see what I can do, Gwyn,” Elain said into the phone.

Azriel had been so absorbed in his unhappy thoughts that he didn’t even notice Elain speaking to this Gwyn.

“No…I understand. I think it will be a bit of a challenge on such short notice, but I will definitely try,” Elain promised, grimacing. 

Piglet looked up at Azriel from under the table, tilting his big round head back and forth, assessing Azriel’s mood and feeling that it had changed. Azriel stroked the floppy black ears and smiled at the dog. Pinky was the only one who understood him. Pinky was the one other being obsessed with Elain besides Azriel, but Elain was also devoted to the dog, and wasn’t devoted to Azriel quite as much.

She put the phone down, her brows knitted. 

“What’s going on?” he queried, taking a sip of his coffee.

Elain waved her hand and replied, “oh nothing. Just a client, in a bit of a bind,”

“What kind of bind can you be in as a matchmaker’s client? That you need to ring on a Saturday morning?”  Azriel was actually genuinely curious because it sounded so ridiculous.

Elain leaned back in her chair and explained, “she is a client and I’ve been having the hardest time matching her with anyone,”

“Why? She ugly? A psycho?”

“My god. Not everyone is an ugly psycho, you know!” she seethed.

“I feel like most people who use a matchmaker probably are,” he noted callously, still annoyed about the robotic leg situation. 

 “Are you an ugly psycho?” she snapped.

He shrugged and looked at his mangled hands, considering for a bit, before saying, “not ugly. But definitely a psycho.”

“Anyway,” Elain grunted.

“Tell me. I want to understand this matchmaking emergency! Indulge me,” he beckoned, smirking.

Elain scoffed at him and his attitude, but nevertheless, began explaining,

“She is a lovely person, really. Very smart,”

“Sorry baby, but this is not a selling point,” he huffed an amused laugh. “You come at a bloke with a ‘I’d like to match you with a very smart woman’ and he immediately starts wondering just how smart she is and would he measure up?”

“So what you are telling me is that you are intimidated by smart women?” she crossed her arms on her chest and glowered at him. “Only airheads for you?”

He drank his coffee lazily, enjoying her anger and then said, “Nah, baby. I ain’t intimidated by nothing. Bring on all the smarts. See, you ain’t an airhead and I am dating you. So I think that I am all good. What about this lass though? What does she do?”

“She is pursuing her PhD in Classics and Philosophy at Cambridge,”

“Jesus,” he breathed. “No wonder you can’t set her up. She sounds like a bundle of laughs.”

“You are so judgy!” she gasped.

“You have no idea,” he confirmed, smiling widely. “And yet it doesn’t stop me from being with you–the Queen of Pearls and Cardigans.”

Elain rolled her eyes and muttered, “I hardly ever wear cardigans! And my pearls are heirlooms, are worth a ton of money and will be passed on to my daughters,” she told him in a firm and decisive tone.

Azriel shrugged and said, “That's fine by me, as long as I get to make these daughters with you, you may give them all the pearls.”

“No comment.”

“So no one wants to hook up with the Cambridge scholar then?”

Elain sighed deeply and gulped on her drink, “she is very picky! And not even so much about the men…but how they’d fit into her life. She isn’t moving from the university and she is very determined to finish her degree–which I absolutely understand. But that makes everything very challenging, because there aren’t many men who want to give up their own lives and careers to be with a woman. Because she’d definitely end up in academia for the rest of her life with a degree like that. So, it would have to be someone who is so completely independent that he wouldn’t care. Or another Cambridge scholar.”

“You are running short on those?”

“I know you are joking,” she was shaking her head in defeat, “but it’s very difficult. She’d need a man like you: someone whose career isn’t stationary and who wouldn’t depend on her.”

“Running short of available footballers too?” he teased. “But what does she need from you right now?” he insisted, making a show of the bustling Ivy on a Saturday morning. 

“She has an event that she needs to attend. She is a keynote speaker. It’s a formal gala,”

“Let me guess, she needs a man by her side? To show she isn’t a lonesome singleton?” he laughed.

“Basically. Yes,” Elain confirmed.

“So I guessed correctly.”

“And how the heck am I supposed to find that?” 

She sighed dramatically and added, “I am almost ready to give up on her and tell her that I am unable to find her a match…It would be my first,”

“I’ll go,” Azriel said suddenly.

She started and looked at him wide eyed, “What do you mean?”

He shrugged and repeated, “I’ll go. I’ll go to the gala with your boring scholar. I’ll wear the tux and I’ll escort her around and shit…”

“But,” Elain began, sounding uncertain. Azriel was pretty blase about his proposal.

“What? What’s the big deal? Besides, don’t I owe you one last fake date or whatever?”

“They weren’t fake dates!” she protested.

“Nuala was okay,” he allowed. Then shuddered demonstratively and murmured, “Mor, not so much.”

Elain thought about his offer. She wasn’t crazy about it–he was her boyfriend, after all. Or was he still a client? Or both? Gah! This was so frustrating. Even thinking about Azriel escorting another woman, even one as romantically clueless as Gwyn, made Elain uncomfortable and genuinely jealous. It was crazy, of course. Azriel was totally devoted to her, and absolutely paid no attention to any other women. Even right now, in the restaurant, some very pretty women walked by and while other men gave them a once over, Azriel only had eyes for Elain and for Piglet, who was now sleeping on his shoe. 

“Jealous, beautiful?” he snickered.

“No! I am not!” she argued defensively.

“Think about it. I am your failed case, so is she. Your two failures, fake-dating for one evening. Face it, it’s kind of poetic.”

“You're not my failure,” Elain glared at him, but her tone was soft and loving. 

“No?”

“You are…you are actually my,” she swallowed hard. 

He was watching her closely, waiting.

“My win,” she concluded. “My reward.”

-

Gwyneth Berdara.

27 years old. PhD candidate in Classics and Philosophy at Cambridge University. Part-time lecturer at Cambridge, otherwise previously unemployed. Moved to London from Inverness, Scotland to attend university. 

Attended a Catholic preparatory school. Initially intended to become a nun.

No previous relationships.

Hobbies: yoga, meditation, pilates, travelling, reading

Azriel read the profile while sitting in Elain’s office. He exhaled a long breath, internally cringing. A nun? A fucking nun?

Supposedly Elain wasn’t a virgin–he was yet to check on that–but this one…yeah, this one definitely was. Not that he cared, but it made him wonder how he was getting set up, even for one evening, with such odd specimens.  

Frankly, this girl needed someone like Elain. Because otherwise, how was she ever going to find a boyfriend? What would be the opening line? ‘Hello, my name is Gwyn and I wanted to be married to Jesus!”

Anyways, he wasn’t here to judge. He was just getting instructions. 

Elain was plenty jumpy as it is, so he wasn’t going to aggravate the situation. 

As it turned out, Gwyn was a keynote speaker, she was also receiving some scholarly award (Azriel didn’t care, so he didn’t ask for any details). The gala was being held at the Museum of Natural History, the dinner was cooked by some of Britain's best chefs and it promised to be quite the event. There would be dancing, a silent auction and all the proceeds were going to go to some animal sanctuary. Azriel hoped that it was going to go to some pug sanctuary.

Elain had informed him that there weren’t many pug sanctuaries out there, which, Azriel, felt was an omission.

Azriel kept most of his comments to a minimum. He knew that it was ridiculous, but somehow, this whole proposal now sounded a bit like cheating. And he regretted having come up with the idea. It was stupid, and he shouldn't have done it, but now, it was too late to back out.

“Okay, you will pick her up at 4:30 pm on Saturday. She needs to be onsite earlier than the rest of the attendees,” Elain was explaining, “because she has to prepare. Cocktails are at 6 pm, and then dinner is at 7 pm.”

He nodded.

“You know you are my girl, right?” he asked suddenly, and when Elain glanced from her tablet at him, his expression was almost…desperate. Pleading. 

She smiled softly at him and nodded,

“I know.”

“I probably shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered.

“It’s okay. I am not jealous,” she assured him. “I trust you.”

-

But maybe Elain shouldn’t have? Trusted him, that is.

-

The next time she spoke with Gwyn Berdara was on Sunday morning following the gala.

‘How did it go?” she inquired, once Gwyn picked up the phone.

“Elain, it was wonderful!” Gwyn chirped excitedly. “I had a brilliant time! Thank you for setting me up with Azriel. He was–is–incredible!”

Umm

Setting her up?

Did she not understand that this was a one-evening only sort of a deal? Elain thought that she’d been clear about this arrangement. One gala. One evening. That’s all.

“I mean, I am not a footie fan,” Gwyn continued saying, “but even I’ve heard of Azriel Night! And honestly when you told me that it would be him, I was unsure. But he was…’ she seemed to be lost for words. “Well, he is lovely, isn’t he? Great manners. Excellent dancer!”

Yes, Elain didn’t argue, he was all of those things, but didn’t Gwyn understand that it was an act? Azriel was rough around the edges, with a potty mouth, a dry, taunting, sarcastic sense of humour, full of abrasive comments and inappropriate innuendo. That’s how Azriel was. He wasn’t some dark gallant knight. Yes, his manners were fine, and he could hold his own in any company, and he knew how to dress smartly and hold a conversation, but Elain knew the ‘real’ Azriel. And she loved the real Azriel. 

“Gwyn, I…” she began saying, but Gwyn interrupted her.

“Thank you, Elain. I didn’t think it was going to happen, and that you’d be able to find someone for me, but you truly are a miracle worker!”

“Gwyn, are you sure that Mr. Night is…interested?” Elain didn’t know how to ask her politely. She didn’t add ‘in you’. 

“Well, yes! I know we initially thought that he’d just be there for the gala, but I want to see where it will go. I don’t know yet, it’s so new, but,”

“I don’t think he is available!” Elain blurted out, feeling confused and anxious. 

“Oh, I know. Not now,” Gwyn laughed. “He is playing today! I am going to watch the game–for the first time,”

She didn’t even like football! 

Piglet trotted into the room, wearing his Arsenal shirt. He was ready for the game too.

“Well, thanks again,” Gwyn said, “I’ll keep you posted on how things go.”

As soon as she hung up, Elain frantically texted ���ring me!’ and then she added more ‘!!!!!!!’

She knew that Azriel was prepping for the game right now and wouldn’t be available right away, but he’d ring right before, so she could wish him a good game. And she always sent him a photo of Piglet in his kit.

Only this time, Azriel did not call back.

[mcrdvcks]

Sweet Dreams - Chapter 6

Chapter Summary: Some of the students and teachers go on a trip to Paris.

Word Count: 6.9k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x Original Female Character (platonic relationship)

Notes: um... please don't be mad :((

i promise everything will work out

Series Masterlist - Chapter 5 → Chapter 7

AO3 Link For Chapter

February

A few months had passed since Christmas, and now it was the beginning of February. The weather had started to warm up a bit, and the rain became more of a constant.

Professor Xavier had decided to let the students who didn’t go home for the holidays on a trip, while the ones that did go home had a weeklong break. They were split into two small groups, some going to Paris, and others going to Germany.

They all had packed their bags for a week, including Alexandria, Kitty, Jean, Scott, Kurt, Jubilee, Rogue. The teachers accompanying them were Charles, Logan, Storm, and Hank.

Kitty’s voice broke the silence. “Have you ever been to Paris, Alexandria?”

She looked over at Kitty, thinking over what she should say. Because she has been to Paris, not for sightseeing, but was sent on a mission by HYDRA to kill a group of people. She wasn’t given any more information other than their names and pictures; she had no idea why HYDRA wanted them dead.

But she did it, because that’s what she was, a loyal soldier.

“Yeah, I’ve been to Paris,” Alexandria replied finally, her voice low and clipped. “But it wasn’t exactly a tourist visit.”

Kitty raised an eyebrow, sensing the lack of enthusiasm in Alexandria’s tone. “Oh? What did you do there?”

Alexandria’s eyes flickered with a brief, unreadable emotion. “Just some work. Nothing you’d want to hear about.”

Jean, sitting next to Kitty, noticed the shift in mood and decided to steer the conversation in a lighter direction. “Well, I’ve heard Paris is amazing. The Eiffel Tower, the food, the art. I’m looking forward to seeing it all.”

“Yeah, the food should be good,” Scott chimed in. “And I hear the shopping is fantastic. Maybe we’ll have some time to check out the boutiques.”

Rogue, who had been quietly listening, added with a smile, “I’m hoping to get a few souvenirs. Maybe some of those fancy French pastries.”

Alexandria nodded slightly, but her mind was elsewhere. She could feel the weight of her past pressing down on her, but she made an effort to push it aside. It was easier to focus on the present, even if it meant staying quiet.

They put their bags on a table where Logan and Ororo were loading them into the belly of the plane before climbing up the stairs into the hull.

Ororo looked over at Logan, who had just put another bag into the belly before picking up another one and repeating. She leaned against the table, glancing at his hands. “You must really like those gloves.” She commented with a grin. It didn’t go unnoticed by her that he was wearing the gloves Alexandria got him for Christmas, or the fact he seemed to wear them quite often.

Logan turned around and looked at Ororo before grabbing another bag and tossing it into the plane’s cargo hold. “What about them?” he asked, nodding toward the gloves Alexandria had given him. His tone was as gruff as ever, but there was a slight softness to his voice, a hint of appreciation.

Ororo smirked, crossing her arms. “I just noticed you’ve been wearing them a lot. They must be pretty comfortable.”

Logan grunted in agreement. “They’re good. Better than some of the stuff I’ve used before.”

The plane was set up in four four-group seating arrangements. There were 4 rows both ways, making 16 seats in total.

The kids sat down in their seats, Kitty and Jubilee in one row, and Scott and Jean in the row in front of them.

Kurt and Rogue sat in the two seats across from Alexandria who was currently looking out of the window.

Hank helped Charles onto the plane before getting in the pilot seat himself, and Ororo sat next to him. Logan quietly sat down next to Alexandria, who was still looking out of the window with an interest.

Logan settled into the seat next to Alexandria, letting out a soft sigh as he adjusted his position. The private jet was already starting to hum with the sound of engines firing up. He glanced over at Alexandria, who was still focused intently on the view outside the window, her expression unreadable.

“You gonna stare out that window the whole flight?” Logan asked gruffly, trying to break the silence. There was no edge to his tone, just a hint of curiosity.

Alexandria shifted her gaze momentarily, meeting his eyes with a brief look before returning to the scene outside. “It’s not often I get to see the world from this high up. It’s different.”

Logan gave a grunt of acknowledgment. “Yeah, it’s something. Especially if you’re used to staying grounded.”

She raised an eyebrow slightly, though her eyes remained on the window. “You’ve been up here a lot?”

“More than I’d like to admit,” Logan said with a smirk. “This is about as close to flying as I get, and I prefer solid ground. But for trips like this, it’s necessary.”

Alexandria nodded, absorbing his words. “I see.”

Their conversation was interrupted as the plane started to take off, the gentle rumble growing louder. Logan watched Alexandria’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. Despite her generally aloof demeanor, there was a faint spark of interest in her gaze as the plane climbed higher.

As she watched as the plane went high above the ground, the mansion becoming smaller and smaller, she hid a yawn under her hand.

It was hard to imagine that just 6 months ago, she was only allowed to sleep every two weeks, and now she had become used to 8 hours of sleep every night.

Jubilee, who sat across from her, was already playing a card game with Kurt, and Logan was reading a newspaper, which by the way Scott talked, should be extinct.

She rested her head on her fist, still looking at the window as her eyes became heavier. The steady hum of the plane and the rhythmic motion of the flight had a soothing effect, making her eyelids droop. What made it even easier was no one else was sleeping on this flight, meaning she didn’t even need her mind blocker to block out their dreams.

Logan, glancing over occasionally from his seat, noticed her struggling to stay awake. He could tell that despite her attempt to appear indifferent, she was tired. It was unusual to see her so relaxed, even if just a little.

After around 15 minutes, Jubilee and Kurt had finished two Uno games and were currently playing their third. Logan had flipped the page of the newspaper when a head slowly fell onto his right shoulder.

Logan felt the weight on his shoulder before he actually registered it. His initial reaction was to shift away, but he paused when he realized it was Alexandria’s head resting lightly on him. Her breathing was even, and she was clearly asleep.

He glanced around, seeing that none of the other kids were paying attention. Kurt and Jubilee were deep into their game, Scott and Jean were chatting quietly, and Hank was busy with the plane’s controls. Ororo, who was also monitoring the flight, occasionally glanced back with a thoughtful expression but said nothing.

Logan grunted softly, not entirely sure how to handle the situation. He shifted slightly to make her more comfortable, mindful not to jostle her too much. Alexandria stirred a bit but didn't wake up, her head adjusting to find a more comfortable position against his shoulder.

Logan let out a quiet sigh, his gaze softening as he watched her sleep. He’d seen her struggle with her own internal battles, her past with HYDRA casting long shadows. But there was something different about her now, a tentative trust he hadn’t seen before.

He heard a soft chuckle from the front of the plane and looked up to see Ororo watching him with a raised eyebrow. “Well, isn’t that a sight?” she said, her tone light but with a hint of amusement.

Logan gave her a sidelong look. “Yeah, well, she fell asleep on me. I didn’t ask for it.”

Ororo’s grin widened. “I’m sure she appreciates it more than you think.”

Logan grunted noncommittally, adjusting his posture to better support Alexandria’s head. The plane’s hum was steady, and the gentle motion seemed to be lulling her into a deeper sleep. Logan glanced at the other students, noting that most were preoccupied. He decided to let her rest for now.

As the plane continued its ascent, Logan turned his attention back to his newspaper, though he found it difficult to concentrate with Alexandria’s steady breathing against him. He couldn’t deny a small, grudging sense of satisfaction. It wasn’t often that he felt this kind of responsibility or connection, but Alexandria had a way of making him question his own boundaries.

A few minutes passed before he noticed a faint rustling from Alexandria. She shifted slightly but remained asleep, her face now resting more comfortably against his shoulder.

Jubilee, having finally won their Uno game, looked over at Logan and Alexandria with curiosity. “Logan,” Kurt whispered from across the aisle, glancing at Alexandria’s sleeping form with a small, amused smile. “Looks like you’re now a pillow.”

Logan shot him a look that was somewhere between a glare and a smirk. “Keep your voice down, elf. You’ll wake her.”

Kurt’s grin widened slightly, but he nodded and turned back to his game with Jubilee, keeping his voice low as they continued their banter over the cards.

As the conversation shifted back to the game, Logan remained focused on Alexandria, his thoughts drifting.

---

The first thing she noticed was that the plane had quickly grown quieter. Alexandria blinked her eyes and lifted her head, realizing multiple things.

Alexandria's eyes widened in realization as she registered her surroundings. The plane was empty, save for the faint trace of Kurt's tail disappearing down the stairs. Her initial reaction was a mix of embarrassment and confusion, compounded by the fact that she’d fallen asleep on Logan’s shoulder. That was definitely not something she intended to do, especially in front of someone as stoic and gruff as him.

She sat up quickly, glancing around to make sure no one else had witnessed the unintentional display of vulnerability. Logan was still there, flipping through the last few pages of his newspaper. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t said a word, just let her sleep. The quiet in the plane felt almost suffocating as Alexandria considered what to say, if anything.

“Everyone’s already off,” Logan remarked without looking up, his tone casual but with an edge that suggested he was fully aware of her discomfort.

Alexandria cleared her throat, forcing herself to adopt her usual aloof demeanor. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she muttered, avoiding direct eye contact. She was rarely caught off-guard, and she didn’t like the feeling of being exposed, even in something as small as this.

Logan shrugged, folding the newspaper and tossing it onto the empty seat beside him. “Could’ve fooled me,” he replied, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Guess even you need some rest now and then.”

Alexandria rolled her eyes, though a small, reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “I suppose,” she said, her voice tinged with a hint of her usual aloofness. “I just didn’t expect to fall asleep like that.”

Logan shrugged, his expression softening a little. “It happens. Especially when you’re running on early mornings and packed schedules. But if you’re going to nap on me, at least you could warn me first.”

Alexandria’s gaze flickered to him, and she found herself momentarily caught off-guard by the faint trace of warmth in his eyes. It was rare to see Logan in such a relaxed state, and it made her feel oddly self-conscious.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “I guess it’s… nice of you to let me sleep.”

Logan grunted, giving her a sideways glance. “Don’t get used to it. I’m not usually this accommodating. But you needed it.”

As she stood up, Alexandria glanced out of the window, seeing that the plane had landed and the cityscape of Paris was visible through the small opening.

Alexandria took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness. She’d spent most of the flight asleep, and now she had to adjust to the reality of being in Paris again, though this time it was for a very different reason than before.

As the plane’s door opened and the cool air from outside drifted in, the rest of the group began to gather their things and prepare to disembark. Jean and Scott were already up, stretching and chatting excitedly about their plans. Kitty and Jubilee were deep in discussion about the shopping they hoped to do.

“Ready to explore, Alexandria?” Kitty called out, her enthusiasm evident as she grabbed her bag.

Alexandria forced a smile. “Yeah, ready as I’ll ever be.”

Logan gave her a sideways glance as he collected his own gear. “Stick close. Paris might be a nice place, but it’s still a big city.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alexandria replied, trying to match his tone but with a touch of her own dry humor.

As they disembarked, Ororo and Hank were at the front, making sure everyone had their passports and documents in order. The excitement was palpable among the students, though Alexandria found herself falling back into her usual state of quiet observation.

They stepped into the bustling Parisian airport, the noise and activity of travelers creating a lively backdrop. Logan remained close to Alexandria, his presence a steadying force as they navigated through the crowd.

“Everyone’s excited, huh?” Logan said, keeping his voice low as they walked. “Don’t let it overwhelm you.”

Alexandria glanced at him, noting the subtle concern in his tone. “I think I can handle a bit of excitement.”

Logan grunted, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “Good. Just making sure.”

Outside, a pair of sleek black cars awaited them, and they quickly piled into the vehicles. The drive through Paris was filled with landmarks passing by in a blur: the Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre, and the bustling streets filled with people starting their day.

As they approached their accommodations, a charming boutique hotel in the heart of the city, Alexandria couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia mixed with a sense of trepidation. The hotel was elegant, with its classic Parisian architecture and warm, inviting atmosphere.

They checked in and were soon settled into their rooms. Alexandria found herself sharing a room with Kitty and Jean, which suited her well enough.

“Ready to hit the streets?” Kitty asked, pulling Alexandria from her thoughts as she joined them in the room.

“Yeah,” Alexandria replied. “Just give me a minute to get my bearings.”

As they prepared to head out, Logan and the rest of the teachers were already gathered in the lobby, ready to brief the students on their plans for the day.

“Alright, listen up,” Logan called out, his voice carrying authority. “We’re going to split into smaller groups to explore different parts of the city. You’ve got a map and a list of recommended spots. Just make sure to check in with us periodically.”

As they set off in their respective directions, Alexandria found herself with Kitty, Jean, and Scott, who were eager to take in the sights. Despite her initial reservations, she found that the lively atmosphere of Paris was starting to chip away at her reserve.

The day passed in a whirlwind of sights, sounds, and experiences. They visited charming cafes, browsed through quirky boutiques, and marveled at the beauty of the city. Alexandria found herself slowly relaxing, allowing the charm of Paris to work its magic. The memories of her past missions felt distant, overshadowed by the simple joy of exploring a new place.

As they regrouped for lunch, Alexandria sat with Kitty and Jean at a small outdoor café, enjoying a moment of respite. The Eiffel Tower loomed in the background, a stunning reminder of the city’s grandeur.

“Not bad, huh?” Kitty said, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Yeah,” Alexandria agreed, allowing herself a genuine smile. “It’s not what I expected.”

Jean grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I knew you’d like it. Paris has a way of growing on you.”

Alexandria took another sip of her coffee, the rich flavor providing a small comfort amidst her swirling thoughts. “Yeah, it’s definitely not what I expected,” she said, her voice a touch warmer than usual. “I guess it’s easier to appreciate when you’re not here on a mission.”

Kitty raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been pretty quiet about what those missions were like. Maybe you should tell us more about what you did.”

Alexandria shook her head slightly, a small frown tugging at her lips. “Not really interested in talking about the past right now. Let’s just enjoy the present.”

Jean nodded, sensing the shift in Alexandria’s mood. “Fair enough. There’s plenty to see and do. We’ve got the whole afternoon ahead of us.”

Scott, who had been listening to the conversation, leaned forward. “Any particular places you guys want to check out? I’m up for anything.”

Kitty tapped her map thoughtfully. “How about we head over to Montmartre? I’ve heard the view from there is amazing.”

Alexandria glanced up at the mention of Montmartre, her curiosity piqued. “Montmartre? I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know much about it.”

“It's a neighborhood known for its artistic history,” Jean explained. “The view from the top of the hill is supposed to be one of the best in Paris. Plus, there’s a lot of interesting street art and little cafes.”

“Sounds good to me,” Alexandria said, surprising herself with how much she was looking forward to it.

Kitty stood up, signaling to the others. “Alright then, Montmartre it is. Let’s finish up here and head out.”

As they left the café, the city’s energy seemed to lift Alexandria’s spirits. She walked alongside Kitty, Jean, and Scott, feeling the vibrant pulse of Paris in a way she hadn’t anticipated. The streets were alive with people, the architecture a blend of old and new, and the whole experience felt almost surreal.

When they arrived in Montmartre, the area was bustling with activity. Artists lined the streets, displaying their work for passersby. The narrow streets and charming buildings added to the neighborhood’s unique atmosphere.

Kitty immediately started taking pictures of the street art, her excitement palpable. “This place is amazing! Look at all these colors.”

Jean and Scott wandered off to explore the shops, while Alexandria found herself drawn to a small park with a view of the city. She took a seat on a bench, appreciating the quiet moment amidst the lively surroundings.

A few minutes later, Jean and Scott joined her, their faces flushed from the walk but full of enthusiasm. “We found a really cool bookstore nearby,” Jean said. “You should come check it out.”

Alexandria raised an eyebrow. “A bookstore? Sounds… different.”

“It’s not just any bookstore,” Scott said with a grin. “It’s got a lot of rare and antique books. I thought you might like it.”

Apparently, they knew exactly what to say to get her up from the bench. “Alright,” Alexandria agreed, standing up. “Lead the way.”

They made their way to the bookshop, where Kitty, Kurt, and Jubilee already were. Alexandria made her way to a group of books in the international section.

There was a small shelf of Russian books and a spine of one of them caught her eye. ‘The Science Behind the Atomic Bomb. The spine looked exactly like a book her dad had. She picked it up and flipped through it, seeing diagrams and lots of rambling.

One quote stood out, it was one her dad always told her brother, “Everything that the human mind can understand and believe is achievable.”

Alexandria heard a clicking noise from somewhere around her as she looked up from the book. The sound was faint, almost like a camera shutter, but there was no one nearby who seemed to be taking pictures. She glanced around, her instincts immediately on high alert.

With a sense of unease creeping over her, she carefully returned the book to the shelf and made her way back to the group. Kitty, Jean, Scott, Jubilee, and Kurt were all engrossed in various sections of the bookstore, but Alexandria’s mind was still occupied by the strange clicking sound.

"Everything okay?" Jean asked, noticing the slight tension in Alexandria’s posture as she approached.

"Yeah," Alexandria replied, though her voice lacked its usual confidence. "Just thought I heard something."

Scott glanced around the bookstore, his eyes scanning the aisles. "You sure it wasn’t just someone taking a picture or something?"

"It might have been," Alexandria said, though she wasn’t convinced. Her instincts told her otherwise, but she didn’t want to alarm the others. "Let’s just keep moving."

Kitty, who had been admiring a display of rare books, looked up. "You want to check out something else? We’ve got a few more stops we could make before heading back."

As Alexandria forced herself to remain casual, she nodded to the group. “Yeah, sure,” she said, her tone betraying a hint of tension despite her efforts to sound relaxed. The uneasy feeling from the clicking noise lingered, but she tried to focus on the present and enjoy the rest of the day. She followed Kitty, Jean, Scott, and the others as they continued exploring Montmartre.

The neighborhood was vibrant with street performers, colorful murals, and the delightful scent of freshly baked pastries wafting from nearby cafes. Alexandria tried to immerse herself in the energy of the place, though her mind kept drifting back to the strange noise she’d heard in the bookstore.

Kitty was enthusiastically pointing out various street artists and their work. “Look at that one!” she said, pointing to a mural of a fantastical creature with bright, swirling colors. “It’s amazing how creative people can be.”

Jean, Scott, and Jubilee were busy taking photos and chatting about the different sights. Alexandria, however, found herself trailing behind slightly, her eyes scanning the crowd and the surroundings with a hint of wariness.

“Hey, Alexandria,” Scott called, noticing her distracted demeanor. “You okay? You seem a bit off.”

Alexandria forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… not used to being so surrounded by people.”

Scott gave her a sympathetic look. “I get it. It can be overwhelming. If you need a break, just let us know.”

“Thanks,” Alexandria said, appreciating his offer even though she wasn’t quite ready to admit her discomfort.

They continued walking through Montmartre, the group making stops at various shops and cafes. Alexandria’s unease slowly began to fade as she let herself be swept up in the charm of the neighborhood. She found a small café that sold a variety of pastries and decided to grab a couple to try.

As she was examining the display case, Kitty and the rest joined her. “These look incredible,” Kitty said, eyeing the pastries with a look of excitement. “What do you want to try?”

The group choose the pastries they wanted as Alexandria went up to order, “Je prends une religieuse, une profiterole, un pain au chocolat, un kouign amann, une croustade pêches et baies, un mille-feuille et un sablés breton.”

The cashier nodded and went to get their items after Alexandria paid for it. She went back to the group who stood by a table. “I didn’t know you knew how to speak French!” Jubilee exclaimed.

Alexandria shrugged, “I speak 10 languages.”

Jubilee's eyes widened as she processed Alexandria's casual admission. "Ten languages? That's insane!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief. "How do you even keep track of that many?"

Alexandria shrugged again, nonchalant. "You just do," she replied, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Kitty handed out the pastries Alexandria had ordered, her curiosity piqued. "Okay, but now I have to ask, what other languages do you know?"

Alexandria took a bite of her mille-feuille before responding. "Russian, obviously. English, French, German, Spanish, Mandarin, Arabic, Japanese, Italian, and Polish."

Scott let out a low whistle. "Impressive. Did HYDRA train you in all those?"

Alexandria nodded, her expression not giving away much. "They had their reasons."

The group fell silent for a moment, absorbing what Alexandria had shared. It was a stark reminder of her past, and while they were all aware of her history, hearing her talk about it so matter-of-factly brought a certain weight to the conversation.

Jubilee, always one to lighten the mood, spoke up again. "Well, now we know who to go to when we need a translator. Seriously, that’s like having a superpower on its own."

Alexandria smirked, a rare hint of amusement flickering in her eyes. "Yeah, I guess it has its uses."

The group continued to enjoy their pastries, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating as they chatted about lighter topics. Alexandria found herself more at ease, the camaraderie of the group providing a comforting backdrop to their day in Paris.

As they finished up and prepared to move on to their next stop, Alexandria couldn’t shake the lingering feeling of being watched. The clicking noise from the bookstore gnawed at her, a subtle but persistent reminder that her past might not be as distant as she wanted it to be.

They eventually made their way out of Montmartre, deciding to explore the more tourist-heavy areas before heading back to the café near the Eiffel Tower. The group meandered through the streets, stopping occasionally to take photos or check out a particularly interesting shop.

At one point, they passed a small street vendor selling an assortment of trinkets and souvenirs. Jubilee immediately gravitated towards the colorful display, her eyes lighting up as she examined a set of intricately designed keychains. "These are so cute!" she exclaimed, holding up one shaped like the Eiffel Tower.

Kitty joined her, picking up a small snow globe with the Paris skyline inside. "These would make great gifts," she mused, turning it over in her hands. "I think I’ll get a few for some of the others back home."

Scott and Jean hung back slightly, talking quietly between themselves, while Alexandria stayed a bit further behind, her attention wandering. She glanced around, taking in the bustling activity of the city, but her mind was still preoccupied with the strange sense of unease she couldn’t quite shake.

---

The group made it back to the hotel and made sure to check in with Logan, Hank, Charles, and Ororo. Jean gave Charles a knick knack, Jubilee gave Ororo a hat, and Scott gave Hank a book. They all chatted eagerly with them as Alexandria stood at the back, quiet and keeping a watch around. She thought no one noticed her watching until Logan came by her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Logan's hand on Alexandria’s shoulder was a firm but subtle gesture, grounding her in the moment. His touch was neither overly gentle nor demanding, a reflection of his understanding of her and their shared rough edges.

"You good, kid?" Logan asked, his voice laced with a hint of concern. He didn’t pry, just offered a moment of connection.

Alexandria shrugged slightly, her usual response when she wasn’t sure how to put her thoughts into words. “Yeah. Just… keeping an eye out.”

Logan gave her a knowing nod, understanding without the need for her to elaborate. “Old habits,” he commented, not as a question but as a statement of fact.

“Yeah,” she admitted, her eyes scanning the lobby once more before meeting his. “Can’t shake it.”

Logan’s gaze softened slightly, though his expression remained typically stoic. “It’ll take time. You’ve got good instincts—just don’t let ‘em ruin a good moment.”

She almost smirked at that, appreciating his attempt to ease her tension without making her feel like she was being coddled. “I’m working on it.”

The two stood in comfortable silence for a moment, watching as the others continued their animated conversations with the teachers. Alexandria was still on alert, but Logan’s presence at her side made it easier for her to relax, even if only a little.

Alexandria lifted the small backpack she had and pulled out a white paper bag. “I got you something. It’s a sablés Breton. It’s a salted butter cookie, and it’s not supposed to be too sweet.”

Logan’s brow furrowed slightly as Alexandria handed him the paper bag. He took it, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. He raised an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and amusement flickering in his eyes.

“A sablés Breton, huh?” he said, looking at the bag with a touch of skepticism. “What’s the catch?”

Alexandria smirked, trying to mask her own unease with a hint of confidence. “No catch. Just something I thought you might like. I’ve been told it’s a good cookie, not too sweet. Figured it might be worth a try.”

Logan gave her a half-smile, a rare expression that softened his typically gruff demeanor. “Well, I’m not one to turn down a cookie. Let’s see if it lives up to the hype.”

He pulled out one of the cookies and took a bite, his expression thoughtful as he chewed. Alexandria watched him closely, her eyes betraying her nerves. After a moment, Logan nodded approvingly.

“Not bad,” he said, his tone begrudgingly appreciative. “Definitely better than some of the crap I’ve had over the years.”

Alexandria’s lips curled into a small, relieved smile. “Good to know. It was the least I could do.”

Logan’s eyes softened just a touch more. “I appreciate it. And… if you ever need to talk or anything, you know where to find me. Doesn’t have to be about cookies.”

Alexandria nodded, her gaze meeting his with a mixture of gratitude and surprise. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The two stood in a companionable silence for a moment, watching as the others chatted and laughed nearby. The atmosphere around them was relaxed, a stark contrast to the tension Alexandria had been feeling earlier. Logan’s presence, though gruff, provided a steady anchor amidst her swirling thoughts.

---

The week went by smoothly, with everyone getting back on the plane with more stuff than they came with. Some of the things were for themselves, and some were to give to the others when they got back to the mansion.

Alexandria was currently putting a few new clothes she got in her closet. Today was Sunday, but Kitty and Jean needed to go out to the mall to get a few essentials, like body wash and shampoo, so Alexandria and even Scott were going to come along.

She grabbed a purse she bought in Paris, which was $5,000, thanks to Tony Stark’s credit card, and headed out to the garage in a comfortable outfit. It was a cropped grey t-shirt with short sleeves, loose-fitting cargo pants and black high-top Converse.

As she headed into the garage by staircase, Kitty came out by the elevator nearby, and Scott and Jean were already in the car.

Kitty spotted Alexandria and waved enthusiastically. “Hey! Ready for some mall action?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Alexandria replied with a small, genuine smile.

In the garage, Scott and Jean were already in the car. Scott was behind the wheel, his expression relaxed as he fiddled with the radio. Jean sat in the passenger seat, scrolling through her phone.

“Hey, Alexandria!” Scott greeted, looking up as she approached. “All set?”

“Yep,” Alexandria said, sliding into the back seat next to Kitty. “Ready to hit the mall.”

Jean glanced over her shoulder, giving Alexandria a friendly smile. “We’re just waiting for you two.”

As Scott started the car and pulled out of the garage, the conversation shifted to their plans for the day. Jean mentioned a few stores they needed to visit, and Kitty chimed in with her shopping list. Alexandria listened, her gaze drifting out the window as they made their way towards the mall.

The drive was uneventful, and soon they arrived at the bustling shopping center. The mall was busy, with people streaming in and out of stores, the sounds of chatter and footsteps filling the air. Alexandria followed Kitty, Jean, and Scott as they made their way through the crowds.

“So, what’s first on the agenda?” Kitty asked, clutching a shopping bag as she looked at the group.

Jean consulted her list. “We need to get body wash, then head to Sephora for shampoo. After that, we can wander a bit and see what catches our eye.”

Scott nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a plan. Lead the way.”

They made their way to the first store, a large department store with a variety of personal care products. Alexandria trailed behind, her eyes scanning the aisles as they walked. She picked out a few items, but her mind was still partially focused on the strange clicking noise she had heard in Paris. The feeling of being watched had faded, but she couldn’t completely shake off the sense of unease.

Kitty and Jean were busy discussing the merits of different brands of body wash, while Scott looked over the selection of shampoos. Alexandria grabbed a few bottles of strawberry scented body wash and the same scent in lotion. Her and Scott followed Kitty and Jean around until they were done and they checked out.

It wasn’t until they were leaving the store that she caught a glimpse of a man standing near the entrance, his eyes briefly meeting hers before he quickly looked away. He was dressed casually, blending in with the crowd, but there was something about him that set off alarm bells in Alexandria’s mind.

She didn’t react outwardly, but her senses were now on high alert. As they made their way to the next store, she kept a close eye on their surroundings, subtly scanning the crowd for any signs of trouble.

Kitty, Jean, and Scott were blissfully unaware of her heightened vigilance, chatting about their plans for the rest of the day. Alexandria, however, couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

As they entered another store, Alexandria made a point of positioning herself near the entrance, giving herself a clear view of anyone coming or going. She spotted the man again, this time lingering outside, pretending to be interested in a display of sunglasses.

Her instincts screamed at her to do something, but she knew she couldn’t act rashly. Instead, she stayed close to the group, keeping her eyes on the man without making it obvious that she was aware of him.

Instinctively, her hand reached behind her back, when she realized she wasn’t on a mission, and therefore did not have a gun. It was also illegal to shoot in a busy mall.

She kept her eyes on the man until Jean and Kitty were done and they headed out. Alexandria noticed that Scott unspokenly took Jean’s bags from her hands.

Once they were in the car, Kitty mentioned that she was hungry. Scott, who was driving once again, turned to face her at a stop sign. “Have you tried a burger yet, Alexandria?”

Scott’s question caught Alexandria off guard. She leaned forward, genuinely curious. “No. What’s that?”

Scott looked surprised, but then a grin spread across his face. “You’ve never had a burger? It’s a classic American dish. Basically, a beef patty in a bun, usually with some kind of toppings. Lettuce, tomato, cheese… that sort of thing.”

Alexandria nodded slowly, trying to piece together the description. “Sounds… simple enough.”

Jean chimed in from the passenger seat, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. “You definitely need to try one. They’re a staple, and there are so many variations. You can get them with different toppings or even veggie options if you’re not into meat.”

Kitty, who had been scrolling through her phone, glanced up. “I know a great place nearby. They have this burger that’s super popular. I think it would be perfect for you to try.”

Scott nodded in agreement, his expression clearly amused. “Alright, it’s settled then. We’ll grab burgers. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

Alexandria settled back into her seat, her curiosity piqued. “Alright. I’m open to trying new things.”

They made their way to the burger joint that Kitty recommended. It was around 10 minutes away, and the GPS on Jean’s phone took them down a side street with barely any cars.

Kitty was currently showing pictures of burgers to Alexandria when Scott let out a whispered curse. Jean leaned over, “what is it?”

Scott’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he pressed down on the brake pedal again and again. The car, however, continued to speed up, the side street ahead narrowing ominously.

“The brake isn’t working,” Scott muttered, his voice tense with barely contained panic.

Jean leaned over, eyes wide with concern as she tried to help. “What do you mean, the brake isn’t working? Can you try shifting it into neutral?”

“I’m trying,” Scott replied through gritted teeth, his hand fumbling with the gear shift. But nothing changed—the car continued its dangerous momentum down the street.

Kitty’s phone slipped from her hand as she leaned forward, her face pale. “We need to get out of here. We should jump.”

Alexandria, calm despite the situation, reached for the door handle, yanking at it. “The doors are locked,” she said, her voice edged with frustration.

“Break the windows,” Jean suggested quickly, her telekinetic powers already flickering to life as she aimed to shatter the glass.

But before Jean could focus enough to unleash her powers, the car swerved uncontrollably, the tires screeching against the asphalt. Scott tried to maneuver the wheel, but it was too late. A flash of metal appeared in their peripheral vision as a car careened toward them from the opposite direction.

The impact was brutal, slamming into the side of their vehicle with a force that knocked the breath out of everyone. The sound of crunching metal, shattering glass, and the dull thuds of bodies slamming against their seats filled the air. Darkness enveloped them as consciousness slipped away.

---

Alexandria was the first to come to, her mind foggy as she blinked against the harsh light that filtered through the cracked windshield. A sharp pain radiated from her left shoulder, but she pushed it aside, instincts kicking in. The car was eerily silent, the only sound a faint ringing in her ears.

She looked around quickly. Scott was slumped over the steering wheel, unconscious. Jean’s head rested against the passenger window, blood trickling from a cut on her forehead. Kitty was next to Alexandria, her breathing shallow but steady.

Before she could make a move to check on the others, the car door beside her was yanked open, and rough hands grabbed her by the arm. She reacted instantly, her training from HYDRA surging to the forefront. But the grip was too strong, and her disorientation was enough to keep her from putting up a fight.

“Don’t struggle,” a cold voice hissed in her ear, the thick accent unmistakably Russian.

Alexandria’s heart pounded in her chest as she was dragged out of the car, her feet stumbling on the uneven ground. She was shoved forward, her vision still blurred as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. The street was empty save for the two cars, both wrecked from the collision. The man who had grabbed her was dressed in black tactical gear, his face obscured by a balaclava.

She went to elbow him but he caught her elbow before handcuffing her hands behind her back.

Before she could act, the man behind her spoke again, his voice cold and detached. “You don’t want to do anything stupid, little girl. Just get in the van.”

As they moved away from the wreckage, she caught sight of a van parked a little further down the street. The back doors were open, revealing more men inside, similarly dressed. This wasn’t just a random attack—this was a coordinated effort. They had been targeted.

Her eyes darted around, looking for an opening, for anything that could give her the upper hand. But the man’s grip on her arms tightened, cutting off her circulation and her thoughts of escape. She was pushed toward the van, the metallic scent of blood mixing with the acrid smell of gasoline from the wrecked vehicles.

Inside the van, she could see that it was lined with reinforced metal, designed to keep anyone inside from getting out. A chill ran down her spine. This was a prison on wheels.

As she was forced closer to the van, Alexandria’s mind raced, trying to calculate her options. The element of surprise was gone, and she was outnumbered. But she wasn’t defenseless. Her powers, though not as honed as she’d like, were still there.

It was better to not fight and further risk Jean, Kitty, and Scott, and instead be taken. But she didn’t leave without putting a message inside Jean’s head, which wasn’t easy. Jean certainly was a strong telepath, but all Alexandria did before being shoved into the van, was put a symbol of HYDRA in her dream.

The doors to the van closed as a needle was inserted into her neck, and a black bag over her head.

i'm gonna try and upload the next few chapters asap in the next 3-5 days, just so there isn't much wait. but no promises!

[t-h-i-n-g]

“You make it kinda hard not to stare.”

————

(jacob black x reader)

-chapter three- series-masterlist

summary: some people’s chip choices are just plain weird.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: awkward reunion (please trust the process guys they won’t always be so god damn awkward I swear) also ignore how shitty my writing is in this one. I’ve been in a car for 6+ hours and that’s when I’ve been writing this my mind is a little scrambled.

————

“I never knew there could be so many off brand knock offs of Doritos,” you mumbled. “I mean come on ‘Not your chez,’ ‘cheesy chips,’ ‘papa cheddar,’ when does it end?”

“When the world does,” Edward sighed, taking a step next to you. His hands were in his pockets, figure slightly slouched. Bella approached next, taking in the colorful variety of almost borderline copyrighted snacks.

“Come to the next aisle. You’d be surprised by how many types of potato chips there are.” Humming you grasped a red bag into your hands and examined it. Bella brushed herself against Edwards sleeve, leaning back into him gently to which he did not protest.

“‘Flavor so good it will knock your socks off,’ Julia Simmons says. Well wow, guess I’ll have to blame Julia if these are ass,” you stated, tossing the chips into your basket. “What else is required for a Cullen movie night?” You asked looking back at Edward. His hand was placed at the base of Bellas back as he steered her to check out another entirely atrocious name for a Cheeto.

“Uhm,” the boy seemed to draw a blank. Brows furrowing, he looked at Bella like she was the expert on this subject. She rose her own at him, a slightly amused smile playing on her lips. Nose scrunching you watched the interaction not being able to shake the feeling that you were being left out of some sort of inside joke. Scanning the row, quickly Edward reached randomly for an interesting looking package and handed it to you, “…These,” he answered with a rather unconfident tone.

Your eyebrows rose and you looked at him unsure.

“The Cullens like to have�� ‘Cola Chicken Crisps’ at their movie nights?”

Bella’s hand flew up to hide her snort. Clearing his throat Edward nodded.

“My sister has a weird craving for them every now and then,” he insisted.

“Sure…” you trailed off, hesitantly placing the bag into the basket.

Turning around swiftly, you turned to the next aisle. Not fussing too much on the hushed whispers that were sounding behind you as you went.

Bella had picked you up a half hour or so after her text. Thank god you didn’t wash your hair or it would’ve been a frizzy mess by now. Edward was a guest you were not expecting when watching his car pull up into your driveway. Bella waved to you with her signature tight lipped smile as you peered through your kitchen window. Not expecting to be leaving your residence, you rushed to pull on a pair of shoes.

Once you grabbed your bag and sat down onto the overly comfortable leather seats, the plans for the day were announced.

Edward stated some of his siblings were having a movie night which Bella was invited to and being the oh so considerate person she is, she asked if you could tag along. It was then after she asked she texted you.

There wasn’t much of a protest from you. Being familiar with the Cullen siblings was a definite help. A handful of times Bella and Edward had forced you to be acquainted by the pale lot. There was nothing that caused you to say no when the offer was presented.

Well none but the fact Rosalie high key tried using some sort of intimidation tactic on you more than once, which definitely worked. But the longer you knew the girl and the more you learned about her the fear slowly faded. Maybe it was still slightly present but that’s just details.

Edrard had greeted you with a quiet greeting as you entered the vehicle. You hesitated to answer however as there was a faint knowingness and doubt in his eyes.

Bella must have told him something.

Not dwelling on it too much you replied, buckling your seatbelt. Edward had pulled into the road, turning soon after into a local grocery store to pick up snacks. Though even if it was his idea he was not doing a lot of shopping himself. Looking lost he walked down aisles, always trailing behind Bella as she searched for things that interested her.

This isn’t the first time Edward had some something strange. Edward, you have learned, himself is just plain weird as it is. He’s a weirdo. Many of his actions are always thought through but at the same time unnatural if that makes any sense at all. But everything he does on his own makes no sense at all. The way he acted was a mystery on its own.

Forks as a whole was a weird town. Many people acquainted with the place seemed nervy and had their little quirks.

However you weren’t really one to judge as you too had your quirks. Just none of them were bad to the point where they had to do with eating chips that had chicken in their name.

Shaking your head from the thought forcefully, you busied yourself with any other slightly half decent option available.

-

Jacob had mixed feelings about going into town.

On one hand there were instances where he could spend time with some friends at movie theaters and watch Quil nearly shit his pants at the Scream movie on Halloween. Or he can go to the arcade and see Paul almost get kicked out for getting too physical with the pinball machine.

Those were fun, sure.

But what isn't fun, is shopping. Specifically shopping alone. Even waiting for his dad to pick out what kind of noodles he wants even though he gets the same one every single time would be better than wallowing aimlessly through the aisles all on his lonesome.

Okay maybe he does have some sort of sense of direction as the list Billy gave him is his compass.

He wanted today to be a chill day. To just sit and lounge on the couch and the only movement he would be obligated to do was his own thumb, picking through the different channels with the remote.

But no.

Today is grocery day. Just like every second Saturday of every month.

The typical things were on Billy’s list. Milk, eggs, those wierd chips that smell like fish, and other necessities that will get the Black household through the next full moon.

Sighing to himself softly, Jacob picked up some strawberries and placed it in the cart. A handful of different produce already found it’s home in the metal enclosure. Taking out a pen and the slip of paper, Jacob clicked the ball point, pursing his lips while looking over the chicken scratch to see wich item looked the most like ‘strawberries.’

It was a shame Billy couldn’t make it today. The man stated he was sore and didn’t want the hassle of getting in and out of the truck to rest on his bones on top of the already apparent ache.

Jacob, being the loyal son he is, sacrificed his sanity to fulfill his fathers wish without a second thought.

However the feeling of lonesomeness never left his body. Jacob felt uncomfortable walking past the automatic doors when he first arrived. His heart rate picking up for unknown reasons as he set foot into the partially muggy atmosphere. It was almost as if something was itching him from the inside out.

Pushing the feeling deep down he focused on the the task at hand. Getting those disgusting weird ass chips his padre wanted.

-

This wasn’t cool at all.

It was times like this you knew being a third in any Bella’s and Edwards plans would be an automatic fail for anyone. The two had magically disappeared the moment you stepped out of their sight.

Panic settled into your bones at the thought that they abandoned you.

A finger sat between your teeth as you leaned back against a rack of lays orginals. Phone in hand you opened Bella’s contact.

Hey, where’d you guys go?

Biting across your nail anxiously you awaited for her response.

Just as when you went to hit the call button a notification sounded.

We went to the back to find something for supper. Meet you at the checkout?

Sure.

Pulling a 180 you followed the line of path to the cashier. When you went to text Bella again asking what her plan was for what to eat, you were cut off. Stepping back cautiously your phone nearly fell from your hand. The cart being the instigator at fault paused and it’s owner peered around the corner.

Just your luck.

It felt like your eyes widened comically. An apology hung up in your throat as Jacobs expression mirrored your own.

-

Just his luck.

He wanted a day to think. Just to process all of the recent events by himself. Why did he have to care so much about dumb groceries. He should have asked if he could wait till tomorrow. Should’ve faked a sickeness of some kind.

Well actually…

Maybe it wasn’t so bad since he finally had a good proper chance to look at you. You were really…

Pretty.

The frame of your face was held at just the right angle, your eyes fit it so well. The beauty marks dotted on your skin were cute. The shade of your skin was an oh so perfect tone. Your eye lashes kissed your cheeks every time you blinked, shielding the color the color that surrounded your irises.

The ache that he felt dulled into a quiet and content thrum as the words he wished to say were lost.

He should probably say something. And stop looking looking like a gaping goldfish. But he didn’t need to say anything at all as you broke first.

-

“…H-hi?” You greeted, hesitantly. Clearing your throat, you tried to get rid of the lump that automatically formed when he came into sight.

Jacob looked almost scared at first. Shock evident in his features, his jaw clenched. Slowly the fear melted into something softer.

This was the last place you expected to see him. For the fact it was so soon as well was another thing.

A rather awkward atmosphere filled between you both. Jacob had yet to stop staring. It seemed he was taking his time to look at you. His eyes darted across your face.

If he could have a staring problem then you could too.

He was still as handsome as yesterday. However with closer inspection the bags under his eyes were more prominent.

“Are you okay?” You offered trying to break the tension wich was almost suffocating.

“W-what?” He asked. Like he didn’t hear you.

“Are you alright?” You tried again. Taking a second to answer, he nodded slowly almost as if he was trying to convince himself.

“Yeah… yeah I’m good.”

Biting your lip you looked around hoping something would pop out to tell you what else you should say.

“I’m really sorry,” Jacob suddenly blurted out. “For yesterday, yknow.”

“Oh no it’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong,” you stated, with a dismissive wave of your hand.

“No, I should’ve stayed to… talk to you about it.”

There it is.

The unspoken moment you wanted to bury in a confused bundle to let it reminisce inside you for the rest of your days.

“Well I don’t even know what ‘it’ is, so it’s all alright.”

Another split second of panic washed over the boy before he concealed himself once more.

“Yeah… right.”

-

Screw the not wanting more time to think what the hell he was gonna do. How is he supposed to tell you you’re stuck with him for the rest of his life?

Never had Jacob ever felt at such a loss of words.

Never has he ever felt this much awkward tension with someone and he’s been stripped down to his underwear in front of Bella’s dad before.

This felt like next level shit.

He wished there was more time to explain. More time for him to understand his own feeling and ask you were you stand with yours.

But that’s another thing. He doesn’t even know you and yet he still feels like he’d step in front of a semi if you’d ask.

He wished he had the option to take things slow.

To start from the beginning properly and to not force anything.

Time, he just needs time to slow down.

He needs more time to think.

He needs more time to process.

He needs more time.

“Uh, yeah so-“ he stopped himself short. He could sense them before he could see them. All the jumbled thoughts in his head freezing in a single moment.

-

Jacob cut himself off, whipping his head around automatically just as Bella and Edward came into your view. Jacobs shoulders tensed.

The line “Well, you don’t like my lover Jacob and you don’t like me talking about him either so that’s why,” flashed over your mind from the previous night.

Bella was the first to speak.

“Jake, hey.”

The boy didn’t respond.

Though you couldn’t see his face you knew that there must have been a not so happy expression covering it.

Edward's hands still remained in his pockets as he rocked back on the balls of his feet.

“Out shopping?” He asked, tilting his head in the direction of Jacobs cart, an offer to plant some sort of civility.

“No, not at all,” Jacob joked but the way he presented the phrase made it sound not very humorous. Edwards jaw clenched ever so slightly.

And you thought your and Jacobs tension was bad.

“We were coming to get Y/n to check out. If you’re ready too Jake, you wanna come?” Bella offered. She obviously has been a peace keeper of these exchanges a handful of times before you noted. Both boys’ attention drew to her. For a moment it seemed she was having separate conversions with each of them.

“I just got to grab some chips then I’m good,” Jacob stated in a quieter less intense voice.

Your brows furrowed as he turned back to you as if the encounter you two just had never even happened. Carefully he stepped beside you and with the tips of his fingers, nudging you to the side with a quiet, ‘ ‘scuse me,’ falling from his lips. Fireworks danced on your skin from where he had touched while you watched as Jacobs face scrunched slightly at the contact. His shoulders relaxed then tensed again as he quickly grabbed a bag from behind you.

Tossing the snack into the cart he huffed out a breath and took hold of the bar.

His eyes met yours briefly before nudging his head in the direction behind him. Signaling for you to step ahead of him before he followed after you. Edward and Bella lead the way toward the register.

You nervously ran a hand across your arm, unsure about the way Jacobs mood and actions could swing from one pole to another so quickly.

The quiet squeak of the broken wheel on the cart preoccupied your senses in the meantime of your pondering.

————

Likes and reblogs are appreciated :))

[foundtherightwords]

As the Sun Will Rise - Chapter 13

Pairing: Grunauer (Overlord) x OFC, Beauty & the Beast retelling

Summary: After losing most of his unit in a disastrous D-Day mission, Derwin Grunauer returns to his hometown near Miami, body riddled with scars and heart heavy with guilt, only to find his neighbors shunning him due to his German name. He retreats into his family mansion and remains there, unwilling to rejoin the living, until the day Alba Reyes turns up at his door with a basket full of warm bread. As the daughter of a Cuban immigrant, Alba knows something of being an outsider, and when she offers to work for Derwin as his housekeeper, it is not only to pay off her father's debt to the Grunauers, but also because she feels some connection to the reclusive young man. When that connection develops into something more, they must overcome both the town's prejudice and their own doubts to find happiness.

Chapter warnings: none

Chapter word count: 3.2k

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

Derwin noticed something had changed between him and Alba since the trip to the beach. Alba was still friendly with him, but there was now an edge to her friendliness. It wasn't exactly an unpleasant edge; not the nervous, terrible waiting of a storm, more like the breathless anticipation of the dawn after staying up all night. Still, it puzzled him and almost made him miss the earlier days of their acquaintance. Before, when she smiled at him or touched him—a casual pat on the hand over the dining table or a squeeze of his shoulder when she glanced at his work on the typewriter—it had been with easy affection, undemanding, almost unthinking. Now, her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, which remained watchful, searching him for something only she knew, and if they happened to brush against each other in the hallway, she would shrink away, grin awkwardly, and run off.

A few days after the trip, a package arrived for Derwin—though in truth, he ordered it for Alba. It was a book, The Everglades: River of Grass. He'd seen the title on a list of upcoming releases, and, thinking of Alba, had placed the order immediately. She may have turned down his offer to buy the dress for her, but he was sure she wouldn't refuse a book. True enough, her eyes lit up when he presented the book to her, and she leaned forward as if to hug him, only to pull back at the last moment and say stiffly, "I'm sure I'll enjoy it. Thank you," before walking away, clutching the book close to her chest.

Derwin longed to chase after her, to ask her what happened—he remembered nothing particularly noteworthy had occurred between them on the trip, except for that moment she mentioned his freckles—but something on Alba's face echoed the same shyness and uncertainty he was feeling inside, and it held him back.

It was almost Thanksgiving. Alba had told him, apologetically, that she would love for him to join her family, but they had been invited to celebrate with some friends from Cuba and she didn't want to impose upon the host by inviting another guest. "It's OK," he'd said. "Don't worry about me." The truth was that he felt secretly relieved to have a few days to himself, so he could gather his thoughts and not have them constantly occupied by Alba. With this strange tension between them, he didn't think he could face a whole day with her under the scrutiny of Mr. Reyes.

That morning, they greeted each other over coffee as usual, before Derwin retreated into the study to continue working on his translation and Alba went into the garden. She was very proud of how well it was growing, and her excitement was so contagious that Derwin found himself watching the rows of vegetables and herbs with interest, waiting for the day they could taste the fruits, quite literally, of Alba's labor. The young cucumbers were thick around the vines, the tomatoes were showing the first blush of ripening, and the pods of green beans and runner beans swung from the poles, ready to be harvested.

Derwin was just sitting down at his typewriter when a sharp cry went up in the garden. "No!" It was Alba, and she sounded in pain. He bolted up and rushed to the back door. "No, no, no..." Alba was still wailing, her voice full of tears.

"Alba?" Derwin shouted. "What's wrong? What's the matter?"

There was no answer. Derwin tore through the backyard and all but ran to the garden. Otto came to meet him, tail drooping sadly.

A scene of destruction met Derwin's eyes. The garden, Alba's beloved garden, which she had so lovingly planted and cared for, had been ravaged. Beans were ripped from their poles, lettuce and herbs were strewn on the ground, cucumber and tomato plants cruelly chopped up, their young fruits scattered everywhere. In the middle of the carnage was a piece of cardboard mounted on a stick, bearing the same chicken scratch Derwin had become used to—the word KILLER and a swastika in red paint. Alba was sitting on the ground, her face buried in her hands, shoulders heaving with sobs.

The sight of her distress scared him more than the destruction of the garden, and he threw himself on the ground next to her. "Alba?" he said, trying to pry her hands away so he could look at her. "Are you OK? Are you hurt?" She just shook her head and continued to weep. "Herzchen, please, talk to me." The term of endearment slipped out inadvertently, but thankfully, Alba was too upset to notice.

"I'm OK," she sniffed, finally dropping her hands. "But look at this! How could they have done this? Did you hear anything last night?"

Derwin thought back. "I did hear Otto barking a lot around... three or four in the morning, I think," he said. "But I didn't dare let him out. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. If you let him out, they may have hurt him." Alba rubbed Otto's head and wiped an ineffectual hand across her nose. "They know exactly what they're doing," she continued, her grief slowly turning to anger. "They waited until the garden was thriving and ready to be harvested to strike. This isn't just vandalism. They want to hurt you. What a bunch of... of... cabrónes!"

Derwin didn't know what cabrónes meant, but from the way she said it, he had a pretty good guess.

"But I'm not the one getting hurt, you are," he said regretfully. "I'm so sorry. All your hard work—"

She sat back with a sigh. "You're hurt, too. You don't get to eat these now. And I was so looking forward to cooking them for you."

Her lips trembled, the tears threatening to come back. Derwin looked around, trying to think of something to say, something to cheer her up.

"Look, maybe it's not so bad," he said. "The cucumbers and tomatoes are a bit young, but they're not ruined. We can still eat them. And look, the beans aren't cut. They're just ripped from the poles. The roots are still intact. We can replant them, right?"

His words made Alba look at the garden again. Derwin realized that, in her shock, she hadn't examined it closely enough and had given everything up for loss. Now she lifted each plant as carefully and tenderly as a mother touching the forehead of her sick child, and her drooped shoulders slowly lifted.

"You're right!" she exclaimed. "They were probably afraid of getting discovered, so they just slashed at things willy-nilly... They didn't even touch the herbs! I can replant the beans and the lettuce... And we can gather up the cucumbers and green tomatoes..." She looked up at him with a small smile. "I hope you like pickles."

"I love pickles." Derwin's heart lifted at the sight of her smile. "Hey, maybe we ought to thank these hoodlums," he joked, encouraged by that smile. "They saved us from having to do the harvest ourselves."

"I wouldn't go as far as that," Alba said, but she chuckled, her face brighter. Then she sniffed again. Derwin searched his pockets for a handkerchief, only to come up empty. Useless. Without thinking, he reached out, cupped her tear-stained cheek in his palm, and wiped at it with his thumb. She turned to press her cheek into his palm, and he let his hand linger on her face for a moment.

"How green your eyes are today," he whispered.

Alba stared at him, her mouth slightly open. If he just edged his thumb a little closer, he could brush it across those lips and feel how soft they were...

"Are they?" she said. "It must be because I've been crying. They just look greener because of the redness around them, and because the tears affect the light refracting off the iris."

"Oh." He dropped his hand, embarrassed. How stupid of him, to talk about her eyes at a time like this, when she'd just seen months of hard work destroyed. "That's—um—interesting."

For a moment, they sat facing each other, not knowing where to look, what to do, what to say. Then Derwin cleared his throat. "I'll find a basket and gather these up," he said, indicating the tomatoes and cucumbers on the ground, before pulling himself to his feet and limping back to the house.

***

Alba watched Derwin hurry into the house, his gait unsteady without the cane. As he vanished from sight, she sighed and started going through the wilted plants, trying to see which one was still salvageable. But her mind wasn't on it. What was wrong with her?! Why couldn't she have kept her mouth shut for once? She wished she could ask Claudia or Beatriz about this. Claudia had told her to go get him, but then again, Claudia had only been with one guy her entire life. Alba wouldn't consider her an expert. Beatriz would know what to do. Beatriz would not babble about light refraction when the man she liked was touching her face and complimenting her eyes.

Did she really like him? Yes. She could admit that to herself now. And she was certain he liked her as well. After the beach trip, she had tried to put a little distance between them, both to examine her own feelings and to test his. The yearning, diffident looks he gave her, like those of a kicked puppy who didn't know what it'd done wrong and still craved affection, could mean nothing else. Alba may not be the most sensitive and observant when it came to matters of the heart, but even she could see that.

But she was also certain that Derwin would never make a move—for all his newfound confidence, he was still so shy around her, so reticent, afraid of his own shadow. All the boys Alba had gone out with—a few in high school, and later, briefly, a GI who was in town for training; she'd been far too busy for more—had pursued her. Now she found herself in the position of the pursuer, and she had no idea what to do.

And there was the little problem of her family's debt. She didn't like to think about it, didn't like how transactional it felt, didn't like the mercenary taint it gave to her connection with Derwin. What they had was so much more special. And most of all, she didn't like to think what would happen once the debt was paid. Although she had started looking into colleges, she knew for sure that Papi would insist on her coming back to the bakery. What could she say then, to both Papi and Derwin? What excuse would she have to keep seeing Derwin?

"What am I going to do, Otto?" she asked the dog in Spanish. "If I told him how I feel, what would he think of me? Would he think that I'm terribly forward? But if I don't say something, we're just going to keep dancing around each other until we go crazy." Hearing her rueful tone, Otto gave a sympathetic woof and affectionately butted his head against her shoulder. She laughed and rubbed his ears. "Oh, why am I asking you for advice anyway? You don't even have a girlfriend."

"What are you saying to him?" asked Derwin. She hadn't heard him coming up behind her.

"Nothing," she said quickly, aware that she was turning red and cursing herself for it. "I was just asking if he likes pickles."

"I thought you were calling him crazy or something. I heard you said loco. That means crazy, right?"

Perfecto. If Derwin had started to pick up Spanish, she was going to have to be more careful about what she said to Otto.

"Yeah, I was cursing out the bastards that did this," she said, turning away to hide her flush. Thankfully, Derwin didn't ask any more questions. He busied himself with picking up the vegetables, dusting them off, and putting them into the basket, while Alba righted the bean poles and covered up the roots, praying that they still lived.

She spent the rest of the day making pickles of the young cucumbers and green tomatoes, saving some of the ripest ones for salad. Neither spoke of what happened between them in the garden, though sometimes Alba would catch Derwin gazing at her, before quickly looking away again.

That night, in their bedroom, while Beatriz was putting her hair in curlers, Alba lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Beatriz was humming "Almost like Being in Love" under her breath, and the timeliness of the song made Alba want to laugh and scream at the same time.

"Bea, can I ask you something?" she said in English. The walls were thin; she didn't want Papi to overhear them, so English would be safer.

"Sure."

"Say... you like someone."

"What's this?" Beatriz paused her rolling and turned to Alba, eyes opened wide. "Alba Reyes Alvarado, asking me for boy advice? Am I dreaming?!"

"Shut up and let me finish, will you?" Alba said, and Beatriz returned to her curlers, nodding encouragingly. "So you like someone," Alba continued. "And you're pretty sure he likes you back. But he won't do anything about it. What would you do?"

The curlers were forgotten again. "Who's the imbécil?" Beatriz asked. "Who is he to ignore my sister? Let me talk to him. I'll make him see some sense."

"Calm down," said Alba, though she was grateful to Beatriz for her support. "You'd frighten him away with your kind of 'talk'. He's a good guy, really. Just very, very shy."

"Well, whatever you do, never, ever make the first move," said Beatriz, happy to be the one dishing out advice this time. It wasn't often that Alba let her forget which one of them was the elder. "Boys will think you're easy and you'll get a reputation, and you'll never get another date."

"But how do I get him to make the first move then?"

"You just have to show him that you're interested. Compliment him. Talk to him about what he's interested in. Make his favorite food. And, if you can, maybe cry a little. If he gets to comfort you, that's when he usually asks you out." Beatriz said this last sentence with the air of one imparting great wisdom. "I don't use that very often, but I've found it very effective."

Alba had to laugh at her sister's flirting techniques. Then, remembering her own predicament, she said with a sigh, "I've done all that already."

"Aren't you going to tell me who he is?" Beatriz asked. When Alba said nothing, she looked into the mirror thoughtfully. "I bet I can guess who he is. God knows we don't meet a lot of people, stuck at the bakery all day. Can't be Frank."

Oh no. If Beatriz guessed, she would never keep her mouth shut. "You know Frank's been sweet on you for years," Alba said, trying to distract her sister.

"I know." Beatriz sounded almost wistful, and Alba hoped that her sister had seen Frank's true worth at last. "You said you've done all that for him... Wait a minute!" Beatriz stared at Alba. "It can't be... can it?"

"What?" Alba said, feigning innocence.

"Gruesome Grunauer?!"

"Don't call him that!"

"Oh, I should have known!" Beatriz crowed. "You've always defended him, even when we were kids. Of course you'd fall in love with him!"

"I am not in love with him!" protested Alba. Not yet, a voice said in her mind. She firmly hushed it up.

"That's why you're practically running out the door every morning. You love him!" Beatriz sounded positively giddy with delight now. Was she trying to tell the entire neighborhood? She would probably start chanting Alba and Grunauer sitting under a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G next.

"Stop it!" Alba hissed. "I knew it was a bad idea to ask you. Forget I said anything." She turned to face the wall.

"OK, OK, I'm sorry." Beatriz finished with her curlers and came over to sit on Alba's bed. "I won't tease. And honestly? He seems nice. Even Marty Jr. loves him."

"He is," agreed Alba, slightly appeased.

"But Papi won't like it, you know."

Alba sighed. Their father may tolerate Derwin as their landlord, but when it came to his daughters, he believed no one was good enough for them, certainly not a wounded vet with no job. "You think I don't know that?" she said. "So you must promise never to breathe a word of this to anyone, OK?"

"I promise." Beatriz squeezed Alba's shoulder. "And don't worry, you just have to be patient with him. Any man who walked for miles on a bad leg just to ask a girl to come back to him is worth waiting for."

Alba turned back to her sister, startled. She hadn't even considered it. She thought any feelings Derwin had for her had only started developing after they began spending more time together, not before. But now that Beatriz had mentioned it, she remembered the night of the storm, and even more instances before that... Could it be true? Beatriz winked at her and jumped back into her own bed with a grin.

But even as Alba's mind told her to take Beatriz's advice and be patient, her heart refused to do so. In her dream that night, she was back in the garden with Derwin, only instead of turning away and walking back into the house, he kept his hand on her cheek, drew her to him, and kissed her.

She melted into his arms. Her hands sought his body, her lips sought his mouth to return the kiss. But here her imagination failed her. The details were frustratingly vague. In her dream, neither of them said anything. He may have whispered her name, but she couldn't hear it over the buzzing of her pulse in her ears. She couldn't tell what his mouth felt like or where his hands were placed. There was only the knowing that he was kissing her and the beating of her pulse, setting her blood on fire.

And then she woke. The fire remained as a dull throbbing in her breast and between her legs. The bedclothes pressed down on her, heavy and unbearably hot. She tossed them off and went into the bathroom to throw some cold water on her flushed cheeks.

As she stared at her reflection in the dimly lit mirror, Alba realized Derwin had also done most of the things Beatriz had told her to do. He'd complimented her. He'd talked to her about her interests and even given her a book about it. The only thing left was that he had yet to cry in her presence. Could it be that he was trying to let her know that he was interested, without having to make the first move himself? How confusing human courtship rituals are! If only they could go about it like birds. Derwin could sing to her and build her a nest, and if she liked it, she would move in. That would be much simpler.

Chapter 14

The next chapter is going to be a bit earlier than usual (Friday instead of Saturday) because I have a fic I need to post on Saturday for Hellcheer Week, so keep an eye out!

Taglist: @kitkat80, @hahahafucku

[daydreamgoddess14]

The Escape Artist - Chapter 10 - The Finale

Masterlist

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7 | CH 8 | CH 9

Tag list: @moonmaiden1996 @theskytraveler @acrackintheteacup @succulentthief

Here she is, the very last chapter 🥲

When I first had the idea for this fic, I knew it had potential to be something really great as long as I had the guts to stick with it. It's my longest fic by a long way - like 20k words longer - and it's also my most comprehensive. I've tried to let everything breathe rather than rushing through it. I've challenged myself in so many ways and I've honestly loved every second of it.

I can't thank you enough for your patience, support, comments, reblogs... all of it. It's been the most rewarding experience to hear from you all and I've made so many new feral pals.

I love you - I really, really do 💜

Now... shall we wrap this shit up?

Twelve months. For Ella Cole twelve long months had passed since she'd been moved from the Park to Slough House. 

Six months spent living hand to mouth in dirty, dangerous accommodation. 

Six months of realising the life she could have. The life she and Clover should have. 

Always moving one step forward and two steps back. 

She realised she'd never lived alone. Never been solely responsible for herself, or for Clover. 

Eddie had kept her in a gilded cage. Materially wanting for nothing, yet emotionally starved and physically scared. 

Six months ago, she was surviving, going through the motions each day. 

Now, she was thriving. 

She had a job that she loved, friends who cared for her, and a man who was slowly working his way into her heart.

The dogs had been recalled, the house too, but Ella chose to move forward, not back. 

She attended Eddie's funeral, intending to go alone, but JK and River had pulled up outside the bus stop and stood either side of her in the back row of the crematorium. 

She cried. 

A surprise to herself, but not to them. 

As the curtains closed, she mourned fifteen years of her life. She mourned Clover's father. 

She didn't mourn the man himself. 

As she cried, she was cleansed. 

Emerging from her prison not a new woman, but a changed one. 

Stronger, safer, happier. 

She threw herself into creating a stable future for Clover. 

Access to her own healthy bank accounts. 

A small house just for them.

Ella felt no shame in spending the money in hers and Eddie's joint accounts.

Hefty anonymous donations to women's shelters across London. 

The fight over properties, the businesses, the life insurance was still to be had, but the accounts were hers.

River read her mind.

There when she needed him, absent when he sensed she needed to retreat into herself.

Quietly championing her, and Clover, at every turn. 

For the most part, Ella felt peace.

But the dark spectre of Diana Taverner hung over her like a cloud. 

The knowledge that she was only ever one phone call away from prison still held her back. 

It prevented her from reaching out to her family after so long. 

It stopped her from opening herself up to, and fully trusting, River. 

It held her back from openly, vocally and voraciously loving him. 

*

Ella sank into River’s sofa with a happy sigh.

“At this rate, I’ll be co-parenting both kids with Lucy’s parents,” she smiled. “We’re gonna have some shared custody agreement going on.”

“It’s good that she’s got a proper friend.” 

“It is.”

“Did you know Coe has volunteered to help on the school trip to the Houses of Parliament?”

“Probably planning his own Guy Fawkes event.” Ella said with a giggle. “Or that side hustle in school security actually happened.”

River agreed distractedly.

“You ok?” She asked.

"I need to tell you something," he said suddenly. Her face paled, a flicker of worry crossing her face. 

"Alright," she said slowly, bracing herself for what was to come.

She assumed that he wanted to cool off whatever was going on between them. 

“It’s all fun and games til someone nearly gets arrested for murder, eh?” She smiled weakly.

"When you first came to the hospital, and Clo was getting snacks?" Her eyes widened, realising where he was going instead.

"No," she whispered. 

"I wanted to tell you sooner -"

"You were awake?" she guessed, her face flushed with embarrassment 

River grimaced, knowing that the next part would be difficult. 

"Yeah, I was. I woke up just before you...you -" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

"Oh my god," she panicked. "I was so stressed and so scared -"

"Did you mean it?" He interrupted.

"Mean what?" she asked, but the fear in her eyes told him she knew exactly what he was referring to.

"Ella," he said, his voice hoarse. "You said... you said you loved me," he implored 

Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. 

"I... I -" she stammered, unable to form a coherent response.

The room fell silent, the weight of her confession hanging in the air between them.

"I did say that..." she said hesitantly. "You had just been shot saving my daughter.”

"I remember." He gently reached for her hand, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. "I was just wondering if you really meant it. Or was it just the adrenaline speaking?”

"River, I... did you hear the rest? It’s been so long, why are you only telling me now? Did you hear me say that I’m a total fuck up? That I'm no good for you?" she pleaded.

River loosened his grip on her hand, noticing her visible nerves. 

"I heard everything," he assured her gently. "But I don't believe for a second that you're not good enough for me.”

She looked at her hands and rubbed them distractedly. 

"I've got blood on my hands, River. I'm a murderer. You can't possibly think that this is a good idea?”

His heart ached at the pain in her voice, but he was determined to make her see her worth. 

"It was self-defence, El. He was about to…" he gritted his teeth in anger, "he was about to rape you. I couldn't get to you, I tried -"

"I know you did, I know." She said tearfully. 

"He deserved it. You did what you had to do," he said softly, his voice filled with regret for not being able to prevent what had happened. "It wasn't your fault.”

"So why can't I wash the blood off?" She whispered fearfully. 

River sighed at her question. He gently took her hands in his and rubbed his thumbs soothingly over her knuckles. 

"It's not about washing it off, Ella. You need to forgive yourself," he said tenderly. "You're not a monster.”

"You don't want me," she told him as she tried to remove her hands from his. "No one ever has, not really.”

River's grip on her hands tightened reflexively. "That's not true," he said, his voice firm. "I want you.” He said fiercely, his voice shaking with conviction. "I'm still here, aren't I? I've been here the whole time?”

She looked doubtful. 

“River, I was nearly arrested. For murder.” She shook her head. “I was fucking stupid to think I could escape this shitshow. How did I think killing Eddie would be the end?”

“They’ve released you without charge. You are free.”

Her stomach turned. She knew she couldn’t keep it from him any longer.

“Because of Taverner,” she said, shamefully.

“What do you mean because of Taverner? What did she do?”

“She arranged to have me released without charge. Told them that the Park was taking over the investigation and that I was still her employee.”

“She fucking owes you anyway, using you to get to Eddie -”

“She sees it the other way around. I’m very much indebted to her. She’s going to want something in return, she always does. It’s a never ending cycle of owing someone something. I don’t want you involved in that.” She sighed.

“No, fuck that, we can fix this,” he snapped.

“I don’t think we can. She threatened to hand me over to the police. She wanted me back at the Park but I refused,” Ella put her head in her hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Ella, we will fix this. Did you mean what you said?" River's gaze softened as he went back to their original conversation, his voice gentle yet filled with hope.

She sighed, knowing that she was unable to lie to him.

"Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. 

River's heart leapt at her quiet admission, a rush of emotions flooding through him. For a moment, all he could do was stare at her in disbelief. 

"Really?" he asked, his voice hoarse from the surge of joy and relief coursing through him.

Ella nodded, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. 

“But -”

“No, no buts, you’ve said it now,” he smiled.

“River, stop! This isn’t over, Taverner is bound to come knocking again?” The smile faded. 

“So we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it,” he told her firmly. “Besides,” he pulled her rigid body into his lap, “there’s something to be said about falling in love with a woman capable of murder,” he kissed a path up her neck to the spot that made her knees buckle. Her knees sank into the sofa either side of his thighs. 

She looked at him again, her eyes searching his, silently questioning his turn of phrase.

“I'm serious. You should break things off.” Ella told him, shifting back to put some space between them. 

“I should do what?” He asked, incredulously. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“You should. You have to be the one to do it. End it right now. Please.” 

‘I can't. I won't do that, El. I love you, and I love Clover… And before you argue with me, I know that that comes with responsibilities. Clover is not going to be the thing that scares me off. Nothing is going to change how I feel about both of you.” He paused, making sure his words were sinking in. Making sure Ella was really listening. “Don't be a coward, Ella. If you want this to end, then you can do it. This is something more. Something real, and if you don't want that, that's fine, but don't expect me to break it off for you. We will fix this.”

Ella sat, stunned into silence by River's confession. The sincerity in his voice and the certainty in his statement had caught her off guard. She felt her heart skip a beat, her mind struggling to catch up with the reality of his words.

"You... you love me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, Ella, I do. And Clover too, even the bloody dog.”

Ella's eyes widened at his admission. It was almost too much to wrap her head around. She let out a disbelieving laugh, a mixture of emotions coursing through her.

"The dog?" she repeated, her voice tinged with incredulity.

"Maybe the dog goes above Clo -" Ella interrupted him with an ineffectual slap on his arm. "Alright, alright, maybe they're both above you," he continued teasing. 

Ella rolled her eyes playfully at his teasing remark. 

"You're impossible," she said, shaking her head, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"It has been mentioned before," he acknowledged with a wry smile. "I'm also not going anywhere," he told her, his fingers lacing through her hair and trying to draw her closer.

Ella's breath hitched as River's fingers tangled in her hair, the gentle tug pulling her closer to him. She tried to resist the pull, her mind still wrestling with her fears, but he was making it so difficult to fight against the powerful connection between them.

"You shouldn't be so stubborn," she whispered, her voice tinged with both irritation and affection. “I'm trying to stop you from fucking up your life.”

He shrugged. "That's already my own doing, you really think telling me to bloody break it off is what we both want?" There was a note of frustration in his voice that she'd even ask such a thing of him. 

Ella felt a pang of guilt in her chest.

“Can you blame me for trying to protect you?”

"I don't need protecting, Ella. Least of all from Diana Taverner. You're the one who's been through hell, give yourself a chance.”

Ella's eyes flashed with a mix of stubborn pride and vulnerability at his words. She wanted to argue, to protest at his assertion, but there was a part of her that knew he was right. She had been through so much, and perhaps she was the one who needed the protection more than him.

"Speechless for once?" He teased lightly. Ella's cheeks flushed pink, a mixture of defensiveness and embarrassment. She had been caught off guard by his assertiveness.

"Shut up," she muttered, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Open goal there," he whispered, pulling her closer and grazing his lips against hers, "means I get to say ‘make me’," he smirked. 

Ella's heart skipped a beat as he pulled her closer, the whisper of his words and the brush of his lips against hers sending a rush of desire through her. Her eyes narrowed at his challenge, a spark of defiance igniting in her gaze.

"Oh, you want me to make you shut up?" she asked in a low voice, a hint of daring in her tone. "Let me guess," she said, her nose brushing against his, "you were thinking something like this?" Her tongue traced over his lower lip as he pulled her in deeply. “I'm a dangerous woman, don't forget,” she murmured against his lips. 

River's breath hitched, the sensation sent a jolt of electricity through him. He leaned into her, his arms tightening around her in response to her playful challenge.

"Mm," he murmured in response, his voice a mixture of pleasure and amusement, "a dangerous woman? I don't think so. How do you think shutting me up is going?”

"I think you're still talking far too much, actually" she said, her eyes twinkling. 

River chuckled, his fingers traced along her back, pulling her flush against his chest.

"Is that so? I take it this little disagreement about how you’re stuck with me is over?" her lips captured his in a gentle yet passionate kiss, effectively silencing his words for the moment.

Ella trembled against him, the kiss sending heat and longing straight to her core. 

She felt herself melting into his embrace, the heat and desire within her growing with every second they were together. 

She pressed herself closer against him, her hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt, her body responding to his touch.

River deepened the kiss, his hands roaming over her body, possessive yet tender in their touch. 

River's lips trailed down her throat, exploring every inch of her skin. 

When he reached her collarbone, he couldn't resist the desire to graze his teeth against her sensitive flesh, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from her. 

He could feel the way her body responded, the way she slid deeper into his lap. 

"Bed, River, please," she gasped as his hands skimmed over her hips. 

The sound of her pleading sent a thrilling jolt through River. 

He pressed a possessive hand to her hip, his fingers digging into her flesh. 

"Bed," he agreed, his voice hoarse with his own desire. "Now.”

River led her through the flat, the anticipation practically crackling in the air between them. 

His hands tingled with the memory of her body, the way her skin burned beneath his touch. 

He could hardly wait to explore every inch of her once more, to feel the heat between them flaring to life with a simple graze of his fingers across her flesh.

Ella found the bottom edge of his t-shirt, her fingertips running across his stomach. 

She brushed the pad of her thumb lightly over his scar out of habit, and went to pull the t-shirt over his head

River gasped slightly as her fingertips brushed across his stomach, his muscles twitching involuntarily beneath her touch. He lifted his arms to make it easier for her to remove his shirt, the fabric falling away and baring his chest to her.

Her eyes raked over his chest, unable to hide her hunger for him. 

She reached for the button of his jeans but he stopped her. 

"Not yet," he rasped, running a finger down the row of buttons on her shirt.

Ella's hand paused in mid-air as he gently restrained her, his fingers wrapping around her wrist and stilling her movement. 

The raw rasp of his voice as he spoke sent a shiver down her spine.

With a possessive gleam in his eyes, he took her shirt between his fingers, slowly undoing the buttons one by one with a slow, deliberate pace.

Ella stifled a moan as his mouth followed his fingers, leaving hot, wet kisses down her body tracing a path down the skin he’d unveiled. River lifted his head just enough to speak against her skin, his voice a low rumble that sent tingles down her spine. "I want to hear you," he whispered, his lips brushing against her flesh as he teased her. "Let me hear the sounds you make for me.”

He pulled her closer to the bed. Discarding her shirt, he popped the button on her jeans. 

"How come you get to -" her protest died on her tongue as his large hands slid them down her thighs, taking her underwear with them. As the material pooled at her feet, he gazed at her hungrily, his expression full of desire and admiration.

"You were saying?" he teased, his eyes roaming over her body, taking in every inch of her curves.

He urged her onto the bed and stood in front of her. 

"My turn," she looked up at him, her much smaller hand brushing over the front of his jeans.

“I'm starting to think you don't want me to break it off after all."

“You always have to be right don’t you?” She rolled her eyes.

Ella's fingers worked the button on his jeans, slipping them down his thighs. As she did, her hands brush his taut muscles, the feel of his skin and strength under her touch making her cunt ache for him. 

She knew at that moment what she needed more than anything.

River's eyes locked on her as her tongue traced over her lips. He took a step closer, closing the distance between them, his body practically thrumming with need.  

Ella's voice was just as soft as her gaze raked over his body, taking in every inch of him. She couldn't hide the desire in her eyes even if she wanted to.  

"Maybe," River replied, his lips pulling into a smirk as he stalked her up the bed. She moved back up the bed, he followed. "But it’s only because I know you don't really want to end this.”

He was confident enough that she'd only suggested it because she thought it was the right thing to do, not because it was what she wanted. 

River positioned himself over her, his strong frame caging her beneath him. The feel of his weight pressing her into the bed only made her need him more, her body instinctively arching towards him.

"Please," she breathed, "please." His hand dragged over her thigh and around to cup her ass, pressing her core to him.

"Please, what?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Tell me what you need.”

She whined, frustrated, her hips moving of their own accord, searching for friction

River watched her, his eyes darkened with desire as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You need this? Is this what you're aching for?"

He rocked his hips, his body pressed impossibly close to hers. 

Her lips brushed against his earlobe pleadingly, her voice a desperate, trembling whisper. 

"River," she begged, her body arching against his as much as she could in her current position.

River let out a low moan, the sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl. 

She gasped out her words, "I need more. I need all of you," her voice was desperate and needy, her body restless beneath him. “I don't want this to end. I’m all in if you are.”

River's body tensed at her words, his own need for her burning like a wildfire in his veins. His last bit of control shattered at her words. 

The feel of his body so close to hers made everything inside her clench with need. He could hear her breathing, fast and harsh, her chest rising and falling in time with his.

“Will you trust me?” He asked, his voice raw with need. Ella nodded hesitantly.

He propped himself up on his side, his hand tracing a soft path down her arm. "Turn over," he instructed, his voice gentle yet firm. She wavered, close to protesting, but did as he requested. "On your hands and knees," he instructed, his voice low and rough.

Ella rose onto her knees, the change in position making her feel more exposed. She took a moment to steady herself, bracing her hands on the bed in front of her.

River moved behind her, his hands trailing over her hips, possessive and firm. "That's it, El," he praised, his voice a low rumble. "I’m going to undo every bad memory you have.”

He groaned softly as she arched her back, her body practically begging for his touch. His fingers gripping her flesh as he watched her respond to him.

Ella's voice was pleading, her words a ragged whisper as she begged for him. "River," she sighed, her body trembling with desire.

His own body was taut with need. Hearing her beg for him only fueled the fire that was burning inside him.

He shifted his position slightly, pressing himself against her. "I want you only to remember the good," he murmured, his voice rough.

Ella's voice was a soft, ragged whisper, her breathing coming in ragged gasps. "Only you," she interpreted, her body trembling at the feel of him against her.

River's grip on her hips tightened, his control slipping a little at her words. Her devotion to him, only him, was almost too much to bear after everything she’d been through.

His own voice was rough with desire, his breath coming in shallow pants as he spoke. "I want to make you feel so good," he repeated, his mouth moving over her neck and shoulder, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in its wake.

His hands slid up her sides, trying to map out every inch of her body with his hands.

Ella's skin burned where he touched her, practically craving his touch. She arched her back, pressing herself further into him, needing more of his touch, of his presence.

Her voice was a desperate plea, her words tumbling out in a ragged gasp. "Need you, Riv, need you now, please, please," she begged.

River groaned softly against her skin, his own need for her almost overwhelming. He knew he couldn't hold back much longer, not with her begging and pleading so beautifully.

River's voice was a low, deep growl, his breath hot against her ear. "You've got me, love," he murmured. "I'm here." He held his hard cock in his fist, running the weeping head through her folds.

His other hand gripped her hips a little tighter, pulling her closer to him, his body molding against hers. She could feel the tense, coiled energy in his frame and cried out as he pushed into her. Her body arching against his as the pleasure washed over her, her senses completely overwhelmed by the feel of him inside.

"God, Ella," River groaned, his arms shaking as he held himself above her. 

She sought out his hand, gripping it tightly, her trepidation still clear. 

His other hand moved across her chest, pulling her upright, her back pressing against his chest. She could feel the heat of his body radiating against hers, the hard planes of his muscles against her soft flesh. 

Her knees spread wider and she sank further down onto him, her body quaking. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered into her ear. 

The grip on his hand loosened and he let go, holding her against his chest with a hand cupping her breast. She gasped at the unexpected depth, at the way he brushed her g-spot with every thrust as he fucked up into her.

“God, River -” her voice broke. 

Ella felt his body wrap around hers, holding her up. 

She felt safe. 

He moved slowly inside her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin. 

Her breath came in snatched gasps as she met his every move, rising and falling on his pulsing cock. 

River picked up the pace, pinching her pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

A low moan tore from his throat as she reached behind herself to run her fingers through his hair. 

His teeth grazed over her shoulder before biting down softly.

Her head fell back against his shoulder, her body melting into his, completely trusting and submissive. From this angle, he had a perfect view down her body, his eyes roaming over her breasts and the place where their bodies met.

River's breathing became ragged and heavy, the sight of her body against his own almost too much to bear. He pressed his body even closer to hers, the heat between them almost unbearable.

Ella leaned on him, her body moving in a slow, fluid roll of her hips, a silent plea for more. Her hands gripped his arms, using his strength to keep herself upright, her body completely surrendered to him.

River groaned at the feel of her moving against him, his body responding instantly to her touch. He held her tighter, his arms anchoring her to him.

He moved the hand that wasn’t holding her up and brought it around to her clit.

The thrust of her hips faltered and she looked down at his hand before covering it with her own, guiding him to where she really needed him. 

The arm across her breasts held her tighter as her legs began to shake. The first tremors of her climax starting to build as he split her open.

"Jesus, River," she gasped, her body arching.

His response was a low, rough whisper against her neck. "I know," he agreed, his lips and teeth continuing their assault on her sensitive skin. He wanted to mark her, to make sure she would remember this moment, remember him.

Ella felt the pressure low in her belly, the intensity of their connection making her legs tremble and her breath come in ragged gasps.

River could feel the tension in her body, the way she was holding on by a thread. "Let go, baby," he murmured against her neck, his voice rough.

Her cry was lost in her throat, her mouth open but no sound escaping. Waves of pleasure coursed through her body, almost too much to bear.

The rhythmic tempo of her hips stuttered again as her whole body trembled. 

“Let me hear you, El,” he pleaded. 

“River,” she whimpered, “fuck, River -” 

His grip on her hips tightened at her words, his own control hanging by a thread. "You have no idea how good you feel, baby," he growled, his breath hot against her skin.

Her hand found his thigh, her fingers digging into his flesh, a desperate attempt to anchor herself as her body trembled with ecstasy.

She cried out his name, the words a ragged gasp of pleasure and need. "Riverr," she moaned, her voice breaking on a high, keening note.

With her release, River held her tighter, his grip unyielding as he followed right behind her, the walls of her cunt tightening around him as he spilled into her.

He groaned loudly, his body shuddering against hers, his arms holding her tightly, his face buried in the curve of her shoulder.

Ella crumpled against him, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her skin flushed and glowing with sweat. Her hand found its way to his hair, her fingers running through the damp locks, a soothing, affectionate motion.

River held her close, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath, his arms wrapped around her like a lifeline.

Her voice was a soft whisper, a touch of amazement in her tone as she spoke. "Oh my god," she repeated quietly, her body still trembling with aftershocks.

River chuckled softly in response, his hold on her tightening just a little. "You all right?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

“Told you to trust me,” he said quietly into her ear. He pulled away from her, he moved slowly, giving her a moment to catch her breath, continuing to tease her with light kisses along her neck and collarbone.

Her voice was soft, filled with wonder, as she mumbled her question. "Where've you been all this time?"

River chuckled softly, his arms tightening around her as he pulled her closer, her back pressing against his chest. "Waiting for you," he teased, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

“As if,” she scoffed, rolling her hips against him. “You’re too cute to wait for anyone.”

River groaned softly at the feeling of her wriggling against him, the heat between them reigniting. Her words sent a wave of desire through him.

His voice was a low, possessive growl, his words a challenge and a promise all in one. "Not you, time to show you everything you've missed out on," he said, his hands roaming her body, caressing and claiming.

River nuzzled at the sensitive spot behind her ear, his lips warm against her skin. Ella couldn't prevent the low, guttural sound that escaped her. Her body was not used to being treated this way, being adored and pleasured so completely.

River pressed his lips to her skin, his hands roaming over her curves, taking his time to memorize every inch of her. "You have no idea how good it feels to make you feel good, Ella," he murmured against her neck.

Her need was undeniable, a fierce, aching thing that burned through every inch of her. Despite the tender ache in her thighs and core, she found herself wanting more, needing more.

River's lips continued to roam over her neck, his hands still exploring her body, his touch firm yet gentle. He could feel her need, the way she was arching into him, and it only fueled his own desire.

"You ready for more?" he asked, his voice a low growl against her skin.

Ella’s voice was soft, almost vulnerable, as she spoke. "I didn’t know it could be like this,” she said softly, her body relaxing against him.

River chuckled softly, his lips still against her skin. River could hear her small whine as he moved away, her body missing the contact with him. The thought of her craving his touch set something ablaze inside of him. He pulled her to lay with him but she sat up on his thighs.

“My favourite view,” he told her. Her eagerness, her new found confidence, only fueled his own desire.

His gaze was fixed on her hand as it slowly traced down her body, her movements deliberate and teasing. River's eyes darkened with growing desire as he watched, his body tensing with anticipation. "Show me how to touch you," he asked quietly. Her breath hitched, her body still sensitive from his previous attentions, his cum still coating her thighs.

His eyes roved over her body, watching as she worked her clit with her other hand at her breast, his own need growing at the sight.

River's breathing became ragged as he watched, his hands resting on her thighs, desperate to touch her. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with admiration.

“I thought of you,” she whispered, blushing. The admission sent a bolt of desire through him.

He rose up onto his elbows for a better view, his voice a low, possessive growl, "You think about me when you touch yourself?" he asked, his eyes burning into hers. She nodded

Her back arched as she crept closer to release, the hand at her breast kneading and pinching. Her eyes didn't leave River's, wanting him to see her come undone.

River's eyes darkened further, the possessive edge becoming even more pronounced as he watched her writhing above him. "Don't look away," he instructed. 

She held his gaze as she reached her peak, crying out for him.

She slumped, boneless, and moved to lay next to him. 

River took hold of her wrist, bringing her hand up to his mouth. He wrapped his tongue around her fingers, tasting her.

“Best thing I’ve ever watched,” he told her once he’d released her fingers with a pop. She felt her cheeks heat up, a blush creeping onto her face.

“I can’t believe I did that,” she confessed, still breathless.

He pressed against her, the evidence of his arousal clear, she felt a shiver of desire run down her spine.

“I’m glad you did,” he murmured, “it was beautiful.”

“Don’t be daft,” she said, brushing off the compliment.

He pressed against her again, his body still taut with wanting, “I mean it.” He insisted.

He rolled her onto her back, lining himself up against her core. “I’m not going to let you forget it, El. If it takes a lifetime, I’ll replace every single bad memory with a new one.”

He sank into her, swallowing her moans, helping her forge a new path.

*

Taverner tapped her nails impatiently, unused to being the one summoned. 

“How fortuitous that I'm here.” She declared. 

“Why's that then?” Ella asked from the doorway. 

“Well, seems a good time to request you back at the Park. I have you some grace by letting you stay here a little longer. Time's up now.” Ella hesitated, looking to Lamb and Standish for support.

River sensed Ella's discomfort. 

"What do you want with her?" River demanded, his voice firm but controlled. “Why do you need her at the Park?”

"I want her service, she owes me, Cartwright, and it's time she comes back where I can keep a closer eye on her.”

Taverner's words hung in the air like a dark cloud. River bristled at her words, his jaw clenching with suppressed anger. "She's not your puppet," he said, his voice low and angry. "She doesn't owe you anything.”

"I think you'll find she does," Taverner turned to Ella, "You didn't tell your little friends? The only reason she's not rotting in prison is because I got hold of the investigation. All I need to do is hand her over to the police."

"For what possible reason? You know her ex-husband was a bully, you know he nearly killed her. Just let it go," River said angrily.

Taverner turned her attention to River, a hint of a sneer tugging at the corner of her mouth. "The reason is simple," she said coolly. "She killed him and got away with it."

River's anger was barely contained now. "And you think that gives you the right to use her like a pawn? You're out of your mind, Taverner.”

"I know you love to bend everyone to your will, Diana," Lamb interrupted, "but really? Is this the hill you want to die on? Sending a battered woman down for a murder which was quite obviously self defence? No jury would convict her and you damn well know it.”

Lamb's interruption caused a slight fissure in Taverner's composure. She shot him a venomous glare before turning her attention back to Ella.

"I suppose you think you're above the law, is that it?" Taverner snapped. "Just because you were a victim doesn't give you the right. And Cartwright," she shot a sharp glance at him, "I wouldn't expect you to understand. You've always assumed yourself above your station.”

"Above the law? Diana, pull the other one. I'd run out of fingers and toes counting your indiscretions." Lamb laughed mockingly. 

Despite her attempts to maintain control of the situation, Taverner seemed to realize that she didn't have a strong case against Ella. Her expression was a mix of frustration and anger, but there was no denying that Lamb's words had hit their mark.

"We'll see about that," she snarled, but her voice lacked its usual certainty.

"You have authorised worse and you know it. Give up Di, there are better ways to exert control." Lamb warned.

Taverner's eyes flashed with anger. "Don't tell me how to do my job," she snapped, her voice laced with bitterness.

But despite her harsh words, there was a hint of uncertainty in her gaze. She knew Lamb was right; she had authorised far worse without a second thought.

"Heaven forbid," he raised his hands. "Drop it, Di. Pick a better battle.”

Despite Lamb's mocking tone, his words seemed to penetrate Taverner's defenses. There was a moment of silence as she considered her options. Finally, she let out a frustrated sigh, "Fine. I'll let it go... for now. But don't think you're going to get off scot-free.” She pointed directly at Lamb. 

"Never," he mocked. "Always in your pocket, Diana.”

Lamb's words dripped with sarcasm, the corner of his mouth lifting in a slight smirk. “Always at your beck and call.”

“You’ll continue to use me,” Ella said aloud, recalling her conversation with River.

“Nonsense, this draws a line under the whole thing.” Taverner sighed defeatedly.

“Do I have to go back, then?” Ella looked from Taverner to Lamb. “Do you not want me here?” Ella asked him desperately.

“She can stay. If she wants to. I don’t give a shit either way to be honest, as long as she doesn’t forget the jaffa cakes.” Lamb said to Taverner.

“Jesus christ, Lamb. I’m honestly astounded as to why these idiots choose to stay here over literally any other job in the world.”

“You and me both, Di. Must be my winning charm.”

“Hmm. If you say so,” she looked him up and down disdainfully. She turned back to Ella, “I can hardly complain, can I?”

Ella stood, her hands balled into fists. River moved directly in front of her, blocking Taverner from her eyeline.

“Let it go, El.” She opened her mouth to argue but relented at the insistence in his eyes. “It’s over now,” he said firmly. 

She didn’t trust herself to speak without directing her anger at Taverner, so she kept quiet. 

No one saw Taverner out.

“Put the kettle on then, if you’re sticking around.” Lamb instructed halfway up the stairs to his office. “And I expect daily jaffa cakes now, since you’re Miss Moneybags.”

“Where'd you think you're going?” Catherine called up to him. “Get your coat, Jackson, we've got to get to the school.”

“Why on earth am I going to a school, Standish?”

Ella reached for her coat, but River got there first and held it open for her. 

“Clo wants you to come and see her gymnastics show, remember?” 

Lamb reappeared, looking annoyed, but carrying his coat regardless. 

“The kid's got a father figure, she don't need another,” he looked over at River. 

“A grandfather wouldn't go amiss though,” Ella told him with a straight face. Behind him, Standish was having less luck, a giggle bubbling behind the hand she'd clamped over her mouth. 

“I can still send you back, Cole,” he muttered, taking the stairs. Halfway down, Louisa, Shirley and Coe were all waiting. “The fuck is this?”

“Family outing. Who kicked out the wicked stepmother?” Shirley asked. 

“Boss man did.” Ella told her with a grin. 

“Will you lot get a move on? We're going to miss her group routine,” Ho shouted up the stairs. 

“Sorry, sorry, we're coming,” Catherine appeased him on the way past, “two cars - Roddy and River, yours?” River held up his keys. 

“Yep, got mine.” he waited while Ella let the others head down the stairs before her. 

“She's going to go mad that we're all turning up,” Ella smiled up at him. 

“She'll love it,” he insisted, pulling her into a deep kiss once Louisa had rounded the landing out of sight. “And I love you, in case I haven't said it enough yet.”

*

FIN

If you think I'm ditching you now this is finished, then think again!

I have a few lovely prompts to get through for River x Sid which I'm so looking forward to, and I've had some glorious Ficmas requests - get in on the action if you haven't already - it's my gift to you! 🎄

And then of course, once the festive season is over.... we get to meet The Thief 👀

[psycheetamore]

Cleansing of the soul - part 1

Summary: our lord Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen has managed to entice his Fremen pet, but this has not gone unnoticed by his brother, who - after having lost Arrakis to Feyd - wants revenge. How better to get revenge, than to snag the favourite pet of his baby brother, esp. if Feyd is not watching.

Tags: MDNI, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen Is His Own Warning, threat of smut, predator/prey, anticipation of (sexual) violence, fighting, Rabban trying to steal from Feyd, disfunctional family - the author regrets nothing

Part 5 of my 6 of my contribution to the predator/prey thrope for Kinktober of @lady-phasma - nr 1-4 are chapters of 1 story (1-3 Feyd/OC hunt related, nr 4 is the reward for our lord), and nr 5-6 is me sharing my favourite chapter that I have written to date with the hunt between Glossu Rabban/OC. The 6 bits will be posted through daily posts.

Word count: 3.7k

Based on chapter 11 of Choosing to Follow Destiny - this is my favourite chapter my darlings

She was so engulfed in this mission that she did not hear the door to the library softly opening and closing. It was only once the steps were just a few rows away that she noticed someone had come in.

She quickly pushed the book back in the cupboard and took another book in her hands. She knew Feyd-Rautha would be collecting her soon for their daily ‘fight and fuck’ session, and she did not want him to see what she had learned. The information she had was still too premature.

She was just on time to clean her traces.

Looking up, she saw a bold man. Not her bold man though. It was Rabban. The last time she had seen him, had been in Arrakis. It surprised her to see him here. She had heard whispers of him being on this planet, and she had always wanted to feel prepared to encounter him – a moment she knew was inevitable to come. However, it still took her by surprise. She had expected to see him at an event, or a meeting, or perhaps during a diner or in the hallways. But not in a place of knowledge, filled with books. He looked different from what she recalled, having seen him from the distance while he went on his rampage. He looked less mighty, older, perhaps a bit more human. As if recent past events had already left their scars on him.

She knew who he was. Probably he did not recognise her, did not know who she was or why she was here. Surely it would just be a coincidence seeing him here. Most likely, he was just seeking certain information from the library. Still, desperately wanting to get out of this situation, she went to walk past him, holding the book in front of her.

He did not say anything to her, as she reduced the distance between them step by step. She could not see whether he was looking at her, but it did not appear he had moved; either towards her or to let her pass.

As she was gearing up to leave this part of the library and circumvent him, her heart started pounding in her throat. As long as she would maintain her cool, she would surely be able to get out of there. By now, considering how he just stood still and did not communicate with her, she did not believe he would be assaulting her, although she needed to be prepared for it to happen. She should prevent acting too cool, as this could induce his anger. But also avoid acting too submissive, as this could trigger his hunting instinct. She needed to walk away with the certainty his soldiers and guards surrounded themselves with, allowing them to not draw any attention upon themselves. Neutral, she considered. Yes, a neutral approach would allow her to get out here surely.

Surely.

As she got within his reach to pass him, her heart started to beat heavier. It would be just a few steps before she would be beyond him.

Just a few steps. She kept on repeating this to herself.

Yet, he suddenly grabbed her arms and pushed her against a bookcase. She finally looked up in his eyes and saw pure rage. She had miscalculated what he would do. He knew. He somehow knew.

Rabban growled: “I am here to see the new pet Feyd brought from Arrakis. I heard you would be here.”

Before she could help herself, she said: “pet?”

He laughed: “you don't know, girl? You are only here to sooth the depraved urges of my brother.”

He thought of her as nothing more than a toy. This was not about her. This was about his brother. He did not know who she was, what she used to be, only what she was here on this planet.

She looked at him with wide open eyes, as he continued: “once he is done with you and found another toy, he will sell you to one of the pleasure houses. That is where you belong you, you Fremen rat. And what happens there is even too perverse for him.”

She gasped. Being referred to as a pet was one thing. It did not come at a surprise the Harkonnen brothers would use derogatory terms to refer to categorise others. Probably they would not address each other which much more respect. However, that the na-Baron would treat his accompanies like that, so atrocious: that was unacceptable. She could deal with a lot, but had expected him to have more honour than that.

Rabban must has seen her contempt and surprise reflected on her face as he started laughing. He bellowed as he explained: “that is what he always does. His pets are made to feel special, but don't think you are anything special little bird.” As that was not insult enough, he turned the metaphorical blade pressed in her flesh: “people here in Giedi Prime like the leftovers of their lords. They will stand in line for you, as they did with your predecessors. So don't worry. As long as you survive that, you still have value for your whore house, and will be kept alive.”

He took a second to bath in the fear her face showed: “although… some people pay extra to be the last person a whore sees while being fucked to death.”

“Fuck. You.” She responded and she tried to walk away. The first words she had uttered since coming to the library this morning. Her voice was still cold, so it came out her in a broken manner, suggesting that she felt powerless.

In no shape or form was Rabban intimidated by her or what she said. If anything, it fuelled his resolve. He liked going up against less powerful opponents, victims. Rabban wouldn't let her go: “I am happy that you offer. That is the reason I came to find you. You see, Feyd has taken something from me. And now I want to take something from him” as he moved closer to her.

While slowly glancing over her body he said: “I saw you on the training grounds. Multiple times. I saw what he did to you, how you squealed at his touch. He has broken you in well. You are his favourite entertainment.” He chuckled: “his favourite of the day. But, once another person plays with his toy, he loses all interest. And I now want to take away his favourite toy.”

His face and hold seemed to soften as he added: “don’t worry for him. He will find another slave to play with.” Glancing over her body he said: “I see why he is attracted to you. You know what, I will cut you a deal. As long as you pleasure me, obey me, submit to me, I may consider holding on to you for a while. Doesn’t that sound appealing? You will learn to love my touches.”

He was trying to intimidate her, and not doing a bad job at it. He was considerably larger than his brother; taller and heavier. With no-one here and a difficult escape she needed to fend for herself.

One of his arms moved up to grab her shoulder and push her down, as he grunted: “I am curious what makes you his favourite pet of the day. Get on your knees.”

Her heart started to race. Whatever chance there was left to make a peaceful getaway: it had evaporated. She would have given a lot to get out of this situation without a struggle in this place, but she also knew that this moment was inevitable. She would run into him, whether it was now or in the future, as nobody seemed to be taking care of him. He would find his way back to this planet, one way or another, for however long or short. He would always be seeing his brother as the root of all his misery, not to forget about how he felt about the Fremen leader that had delivered an important blow to get him ousted. Wit was not one of the traits mentioned by people when describing him, but even he would find out who she was at a certain moment. She needed to be prepared to face her destiny. She would be the one resolving the problems Harkonnen leadership had caused.

As his other arm moved to open his trousers in order to humiliate her in the sanctity of this womb of knowledge, she used the moment to swiftly move her arm alongside the inner part of his arm that was resting on her shoulder, in order to push it out of the way. She took the book she was still holding in both hands, shoved it into the bottom of his chin and wacked the side of his face with it. Closed quarter battle was something she was trained for in the rock formations of Arrakis, allowing her to throw a painful punch without much room. He took a step back, giving her just enough room to grab her daggers from under her jacket and get in a fighting position.

He looked at her: “so it is true.” His eyes had widened a bit as he touched his face. He did not bother to put his trousers back in order. He was clearly taken aback, and processing what had just happened.

“What… is true? Beast” she spat at him. She still did not know what to expect. Although she had always experienced him as very predictable in his strategies, the difficulty with people like him is that their actions can be very hard to predict. They don’t always think and act rational. This by themselves makes them more challenging adversaries.

“That you are a Fremen fighter. He really has outdone himself now. So, what do you do? Does he need to fight you before he can fuck you? Is that how he gets you to serve him? I can do that. Come here!” he growled with force. Through his bombastic chest he managed to create a deep impressive sound. Probably another trait carried by his genes.

She stared at him in distain: “is that all you got?” She was truly flabbergasted. She had anticipated he would have found it out by now, connected the dots. But still, it did not click. He disappointed her, even still. It triggered her anger: “I shouldn’t be surprised. You are a failure who is too scared for the battle ground. Running around, shouting and no action.” She gasped quickly and continued, as every second that she spat at him would hopefully bring him more out of balance, allowing her room to manoeuvre: “the only thing you do is slaughtering the people you should protect. I should have accepted the offer you cried from the city walls of Arrakeen and take you out of your misery a long time ago. That would have been better for everyone involved.”

Rabban was thinking, his voice increasing and his eyes nearly popping from his head as he spilled his thoughts: “no. It cannot be. You are the Fremen leader rat that attacked me? You are in my own home? He brought that piece of vermin into my own home? I heard the rumours and could not believe he actually did that.” He grabbed his head as he continued to shout: “captured by him, is what was said.” His head started to move violently around: “no, no, no. No, that is not true. You are part of the plot! You are the whore who helped him take Arrakis from me! You have planned this, together with him. And now he is fucking you to taunt me!”

“Just my luck that I find his little bitch here, all by herself, unprotected. I will fuck you to death at this very spot and dump your body in his bed” he screamed as his rage started coming up. He launched himself at her.

The moment she knew would come, now or in the future: it had come. She was smaller yet quicker and managed to dodge him just on time. He was like the buffalo, she had read about in ancient scriptures: once it finds its anger, it will place its head down and advance, not being able to be stopped by anything but lethal force. As she could not provide lethal force, not yet, the only thing she could do was dart away. The bookcase stopped his attack and also prevented him from falling, as she sliced the flesh of his arm. She had drawn blood, causing him to get madder and madder.

Her arms were quite short, so she needed to be careful. She was looking for a way to get past him. Escape would not be possible, as this isle only had one exit. An exit he was blocking with his humongous body. The bookshelves reached to the ceiling, so she could not escape through there to find a better location to fight him. She needed to get him enraged even more, so that he would let his guard down and she could attack him.

She decided to hit him where it hurt most. “All you Harkonnen warlords are pests. But you, you are a parody of your name. Of your brother. You are not half the man he is, and you know that. Everybody knows that.”

She saw his pale head getting red of anger. Veins in his neck starting to become increasingly visible. What she threw at him was causing him pain. She decided to throw more oil onto the fire: “and yes, he fucks me after we fight. And we fight after we fuck. We fuck while we fight. We fight while we fuck, if you care to know. I could speak for hours about the pleasure he brings me. I would never let you though. You do not compare to him. I cannot imagine any woman to ever be willing to be near you, unless forced under punishment of death. That must be horrible, having your younger brother being pursued by all these women while you just chase them away.”

“Silence bitch. I will silence you by choking you on my cock!” he screamed. His eyes were shooting in all directions towards her. As if to find a weak point he could attack. She knew he could not find anything, nothing he could not have already seen in any case. Nothing new.

She continued to taunt him, now using a melodious tone, almost like she was singing: “you were defeated by a woman. By me. I pushed you on your knees and exiled you from Arrakis. A failure is what you are. And it did not even take me that much effort, because you were too stupid to get your shit together. All the money, power and resources in the universe, and the only thing you could kill were babies. Here, do you want one of my daggers? Because that may even the odds for you a bit.” As if she was cuddling an angry toddler having a tantrum.

This was too much for him. He stopped thinking and started to throw punches at her, driving her to the wall behind her. A few landed. He had power, which started to take a toll on her. It was difficult for her to stab him, as he easily blocked her. But every time he did that, she managed to make a cut, however small or big.

He needed to get her drop the weapons, so he tried getting a hold of her hands. With a bit of effort and struggle he managed to get hold of one. She was taken by surprise. She did not expect him to take such a risk, and especially not to succeed. He now believed he would have the upper hand and get her to submit to him.

And this would have changed the balance a bit, if he would know what he was doing, and she would not be trained. But that was not the case, as her reflex was to twist her hand and slashed his wrist with the weapon she held in that hand in the process. He would have known about this, if he would have truly observed her fights with his brother. Quickly withdrawing her hand and slashing his chest before retreating and reaching in to cut again. It was all not much as she couldn't get too nearby him. It was not enough to kill him. But, it was enough to drain him.

Perhaps he knew his time was running out, perhaps he stopped thinking entirely and acted on instinct alone, as he bombarded himself in her reach to grab her throat. He was not trained to fight like this, while she would not be going down easily. Again, he was successful in his attempt, now getting hold of her neck. This allowed him to try to push her to the floor to get her to relinquish the weapons. Getting out of this position would prove more difficult.

But she could not relinquish her weapons, as it was a major element in allowing her to balance the odds between them. It would never be an option. Losing was never an option, not against him. She had too much to revenge to not win, and too much to lose if he would win. She felt quick flowing lava filling her veins allowing her to tap into new energy. Everything he had threatened her with, was recalled. Taunting her to be sold off inferior to cattle. This triggered her memories to the most important reason she fled the orphanage when she was young. She remembered how her friends, her family, her people: all slaughtered by his hands, by his incompetence. The suffering he had caused. The pain. The fear she had lived in to encounter him here on this planet.

She would not be having this. She would win. She needed to win. She would be victorious. He was too pathetic to allow her to lose against him.

She let herself fall to the ground, causing disbalance in him. He either needed to let her go or fall with her. With the motion in place, he needed to decide instantly. He did the former, causing him to release her as expected, exposing his legs without any protection.

He did not see coming what she was planning to do. Ever step he took showed how ill prepared he was. It was an insult to this house he belonged to. It was an insult to his brother, however much she may detest him at times.

She made a deep cut in one of his legs, pushed herself away and leaped up while looking at him. She needed to catch her breath, but also knew he would be using any opportunity of inaction on her side to come for her. So, she decided she needed continued to cut, to stab, plenishing her stamina with quick superficial breaths.

A last push to resolve this discussion. Her heart was beating so hard. Sweat was dripping down her back. Ever single fibre in her body was tense. Her senses were at their peak. She had never been in such a physically draining situation. Her hands tied to her weapons. The weapons tied to her body. They were one. Her hands had become blades.

Her barrage was enough to get him to take steps back. Where she was tapping into new energy, energy started to drain from him. He was losing the one thing that would give him the upper hand: his strength.

He stumbled.

This was her moment. The moment she had been waiting for. The moment that could turn the tables for ever. He had made the grave mistake of allowing her room. Room she would not use to escape, but to end all if this. She used it to leap behind him and climb his back.

He did not know what was happening. It was all too foreign to him. She had done something similar before with his brother, while he had abducted her, who knew that he needed to get up and crash his back into a wall. That was the best way to get her to relinquish her position. But he did not know what to do. He was not trained for this, he could not think clearly, he was a giant ready to fall.

While she was mounted to his back, holding on to him with her legs and by grabbing his coat, she started to stab him. The knifes held by her hands slithered into the fairly soft tissue that formed his fat covered muscle. In and out did her blade go, with every stroke racking up more blood to escape his body. It would have become more difficult to hold her daggers, if they had not been so excellently designed by the order of his brother.

He knew he needed to start to protect his head and his neck, as he would otherwise lose more important parts of his body, so he threw the only thing he had to sacrifice into the battle: his arms and his hands. It did help to protect his vital parts, but it came at a cost. Soon, his hands, arms and shoulders were covered in cuts.

Meanwhile, she felt her arms getting tired, but the knives were so well polished that the main thing that drained her was lifting her arms and not so much the pushing or slashing motion. Apart from that: she was on a rampage with nearly unlimited energy.

Everything became red before her eyes, in her head. She had lost herself. She too stopped thinking and followed what she was dictated to do by her gut.

He needed to die here and now.

She stabbed and stabbed and stabbed. She sliced, she cut, she chopped.

This would now end.

She was controlled by basic brutal instinct.

This could go on for ages. She lost track of time. It felt like it went on for ages.

+++

Other parts listed on my pinned post

[lightandheatao3]

The Bunker - Criminal Minds

Chapter 14: The Photograph

Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.

Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.

AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.

Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.

Chapter Summary: The team look at photos.

Read chapter 14 on AO3 or under the cut. Please check AO3 for content warnings. All comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated <3 I would love to know what you like about the story :)

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

The photographs formed a storyboard of the past year of their lives.

They must have been at it for hours, meticulously sorting them into what they figured was as close as they could get to chronological order. They lined the photos up side by side on the floor, taking up the length of an entire 30 foot wall two rows deep, a colorful collage of their shared violation.

They process was clinical and procedural. This was as much hard data as they'd had since they got there and unassailable professional instinct made the next steps clear. It felt good to have something tangible to work with, even if the subject matter was unsettling.

There was a silent agreement not to press each other for context on any of the photographs beyond time, date, and location: All the details needed for a detailed timeline and geographical profile.

They didn’t comment on the photograph of JJ in a bar with a half empty pint of beer and tears in her eyes, still wearing her work clothes. They didn’t ask Hotch about the photo of him and Jack in a parking lot clearly in the middle of an argument.

Even a person with nothing in the world to hide would have moments they didn't want to share over the course of an entire year of their lives.

At one point Derek deviated just a moment from their agreement and chuckled at a photo of Spencer in an expensive apartment sitting on a leather sofa, very close to a rather pretty woman. The picture was taken through the wall to ceiling windows from somewhere in the high-rise across the road. "Friend of yours?" he asked.

“Sort of,” said Spencer, taking the photo and examining the details so he could date it. He looked at both of their outfits, at the length of his hair, at the drink in her hand. He closed his eyes and sifted through every interaction he’d had with that woman in that apartment until he landed on the one with the corresponding details. “3rd of August 2023, 1:30am, Washington D.C. I was there to buy narcotics,” he said, tight lipped. “She’s my dealer.”

With shaky hands, he passed the photo back to Derek, who stared at it again, dashed of any humor.

After a while, he set the picture in its place in the timeline and made no further comments on any of his photos. He noticed the others all stopping to take a look at it with varying degrees of subtlety.

Well, except for Emily, who bent down to look and said, “God damn,” and wolf whistled. “You two look pretty cozy."

“It's not like that," he said sheepishly. "For one, I think you're more her type than I am," he said with a shrug. "I wouldn't call her a friend, but I guess it was good having someone to talk to who already knew how screwed up I was. She's nice enough."

"For a drug dealer," muttered Derek, shuffling through a stack of photos.

Spencer quirked his lip. "I'm not exactly in a position to judge, am I?"

Derek tapped the photos in his hand, straightening them out. "I guess not."

A few minutes later, when Derek handed Spencer a photo taken in that same apartment, he did so wordlessly, extending his arm without even looking up from the photos in his other hand.

A shiver ran down his spine at the confronting image. It was a picture of him slumped back on that same nice leather couch, sleeve rolled up with a tourniquet loosened on his arm and a used needle on the coffee table next to him. His dealer was smoking a joint on the armchair across from him.

He almost forgot why he was looking at the photo, transfixed as he was by the completely sickening thought of the others seeing him like this.

It occurred to him that he had never seen himself like this, either. He looked so sick. That wasn't surprising. He usually waited until he got home to shoot up. The only exceptions to that were when he was particularly desperate for a fix. Or when he couldn't bear to be alone.

As he stared at the photo, a violent vision of digging his nails into his scar and tearing it open intruded into his mind.

He shook his head, clearing it of the disturbing thoughts.

“Um... September 13th 2023. 1pm,” he said, reminding himself of the task at hand.

He handed the photo back to Derek, not sure if the other man was avoiding looking at him out of respect or disgust, but grateful for it either way. As he passed it over, he fumbled, dropping the photograph, which floated dully to the floor and landed face down.

“Shit,” he muttered, pulling his hand back and clenching his fist as best he could, trying to control the trembling and biting back a hiss at the pain that shot through his forearm. “Sorry.”

Derek ignored the dropped photo and finally looked Spencer in the face. “That’s like the fifth time you’ve dropped something since we started this,” he said seriously. “Let me look at your hand,” he said, reaching out for Spencer's left hand without waiting for an answer.

He pulled it away. “It’s fine,” he said. “I'm just shaky. It's mild withdrawal symptoms. It’s not that bad.”

After two weeks on a high dose of fentanyl, some withdrawals were inescapable, but it was nothing compared to what he went through before. It still pretty much sucked, but at least he wasn’t feverish.

"It's not just withdrawal," interjected Hotch, stepping up behind Derek and folding his arms. "Every time you fumble, it's your left hand. This isn't going to go away just because you ignore it," he said firmly. "Let Morgan take a look."

Spencer knew he was right, even though he was trying very hard not to know it. The others had stopped what they were doing and were watching the interaction with interest.

He sighed, bracing himself. He held out his mangled left arm to Derek, who grasped his wrist and turned his hand palm-up. He studied it, prodding the muscles around the scar.

Spencer stared at the wall behind Derek's head, looking anywhere except the horrible, foreign flesh that he used to recognize as his arm.

“Any numbness or tingling?” asked Derek.

After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “Some.”

Derek pursed his lips unconsciously. He put his fingers on Spencer’s and gave a probing scratch with his own fingernail. “Can you feel that?”

He shrugged halfheartedly. “A bit. The sensation is limited.”

Derek moved his fingers to Spencer’s palm and repeated the previous action. “Here?”

Spencer shook his head. “Barely.”

“Okay,” Derek said, sounding decidedly less than okay. “Tell me when you feel normal sensation again.”

He dragged his fingernail from Spencer’s palm, up to his wrist, and then to the forearm. He was halfway up Spencer’s forearm before he stopped him.

It wasn’t as if this was news to him, but having it validated in the furrow of Derek’s brow was an unexpected blow.

It would have been easier to keep telling himself it was just detox messing with his nervous system.

The others were all gathered in close now, unabashedly observing the impromptu examination.

Derek held out both of his own hands, three fingers raised to the roof on each side. “Try and squeeze both of my fingers as hard as you can,” he instructed.

Spencer did as he was asked, already knowing what the result would be, but somewhat morbidly curious to figure out just how fucked he was.

His right hand squeezed just fine, but the left struggled to form itself into a proper fist, let alone apply meaningful pressure. A burning pain shot through his forearm at the effort.

He dropped his hands pathetically to his sides, finally able to look at Derek now that he didn’t have to risk looking at his scar in the process. He felt the urge to shove his hands in his pockets and was irritated that the scrub pants didn’t have any.

“What’s your diagnosis?” he asked sardonically.

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “You tell me, genius. Numbness, weakness, loss of fine motor function, and I’m willing to bet you’ve got some pain you’re not talking about.”

“I must have severed the median nerve,” he said tiredly. “It’s unlikely that I’ll ever recover full function.”

“It’s still early days,” chimed in Emily. “You’ve barely healed and haven’t exactly had world class medical care. Don’t count yourself out just yet.”

He once again resisted the urge to shove his hands into his non-existent pockets and settled for crossing his arms instead. “It’s fine, guys,” he said flatly. “We have a job to do. This can wait.”

There was no arguing with that. The damage was already done and worrying about it wasn't going to fix it.

With a few lingering looks of concern, they all returned to the task at hand. Derek bent down and picked up the fallen photo, glancing at it one last time before putting it in its proper place.

When they were done, they had an imperfect but extensive timeline, including geographical information.

Spencer studied every photograph and sifted through every detail of date time and geography in his mind. He pictured a map, marking each location with pushpins, just like he had on the walls of so many police precincts around the country. 

Eventually, he came to one inarguable conclusion.

“There was more than two of them.”

“Are you sure?” asked Emily.

He knelt down, picking up three photos that were placed next to each other on the floor. “Here I am near the West Virginia border on the same day Hotch is in Kentucky. Fine, we know that they work as a pair. It’s possible they had an equal division of labor with the stalking. It’s an unusual dynamic, but we knew that already. But this,” he said, holding up a picture of Emily having lunch with her mother in DC, “was taken at lunchtime on the same day. In ideal traffic, the earliest time they could have gotten from me to Emily is 5 hours, which would have been closer to 3.30pm. Now, theoretically, you could make it from Hotch’s house to Louisville airport in an around 90 minutes, with check in 40 minutes before hand, and be in DC just in time to get this picture. But why? Why go that effort and expense just to get a picture of you at lunch with your mom? Not to mention, they would have to locate you within the city first. How many time a year do you even see your mom? Twice? Three times?”

“Less if I can help it,” said Emily with a grimace.

“Exactly. This isn’t a routine part of your schedule. And you said it was a last-minute arrangement. She wasn’t even supposed to be in the city.”

“That’s right. They couldn’t have known where I was going to be. I didn’t even know where I was going be until the time where they would have been on the plane with no cell service,” she said, clicking her finger as she followed his train of thought.

“And the other one would have been in rural Virginia in a location that was intentionally without cell service-”

“So even in the absolute worst case scenario where they bugged our phones somehow, it wouldn’t have been possible for them to listen in on my mom’s call. They couldn’t have known where I would be.”

“And the most generous timeline would still require them knowing exactly where to go as soon as they landed in DC,” Spencer finished. “They must have had help.”

“You don’t think there could be a third Unsub, do you?” asked JJ worriedly.

“No,” said Spencer. “I doubt it. The way he talked about her, I don't think he would even be capable of forming any kind of meaningful trusting relationship with another person. I don't think their dynamic allows for a third party.”

“What if they didn’t have just one person helping them?” said Rossi. “Think about it. Not one of us noticed that we were being stalked for over a year? Reid, you have an eidetic memory. No matter how careful they are, the fact is if you see the same face enough times, eventually you’ll notice, right?” Spencer nodded. “Never mind that we’re all profilers, most of whom are more than a bit hypervigilant. But if it was four, five, a dozen people sharing the load? That’s a lot harder to spot.”

“You think they contracted their stalking out?” said Hotch, a touch incredulous. “That’s a pretty high risk approach.”

“I don’t think they contracted out all of it,” clarified Rossi. “They’re too obsessive and controlling for that. They would have done the more intimate digging into our lives themselves. But I think they may have hired on PIs for a lot of the day-to-day stuff, including actively following us, photographing us, and learning our routines. Unless anyone has a better theory.”

“Something like that would take a lot of money,” pointed out Derek. “Especially to have people following FBI agents. Buying discretion for a job like that isn’t cheap. Not to mention the associated costs of keeping their identities hidden from the people they hired. It kind of makes sense. I mean, look at this place. It would have taken them a lot of time and resources to set this up. It would be pretty difficult to do that while stalking six people full time.”

“If our profile is correct and we’re dealing with a former prisoner and prison nurse, then how would they have access to that kind of money?” asked Spencer.

They all traded looks before settling on Emily, their default leader. Funny, even Hotch was looking to her.

She sputtered, giving a half shrug. “I wish I had a theory, but I don’t think we have enough information. All of these conclusions are speculative at best, for now. We’ll keep working on it. But for the moment, let’s focus on the positive. If they really were hiring outside help, that’s great for us. Every person involved in this is a weak link in the chain. It doesn’t matter how careful they were or how well they concealed their identities. Things like this leave a trail.”

"I don't think they meant for us to figure this out," said Spencer. "These photos are carefully curated, and everything they presented us was within a plausible time frame. If this is information they didn't want us to know, then it's information we might be able to leverage somehow."

"That's great," said Emily with a smile. "Every new thing we learn is helpful. Good work, everyone."

The congratulatory moment was short lived when a clang at the door made them all jump

A moment later, one paper bag was deposited in the door chamber, followed by another, both by the same single gloved hand that had become so familiar.

Spencer sprung into action. He’d been waiting for this chance. He stepped quickly to the door, leaning down to speak through the hatch.

“I heard you,” he said. “You were in the room with me. I remember you.”

The hatch was halfway to being closed, but it halted before it could fully seal.

Adrenalin surged and his brain kicked into overdrive. She had never responded to their attempts to talk to her.

This was new.

“You saved my life,” he said, taking another step forward. “He wanted to let me die but you said no. Thank you."

He paused, leaving a space he hoped she would fill with a response.

Silence.

 He pressed on. "He’s a sadist. He's not like you. He doesn't want what you want. He won’t indulge you forever.”

The hatch pulled shut and resealed itself.

Apparently, that was not what she wanted to hear.

He looked back at the others. Nobody said anything. What could they say? It was too soon to know what kind of affect his words might have had.

"That's more of a reaction than any of the rest of us have ever got," JJ pointed out. "That's progress."

"Yeah," he said simply.

Being closest to the door, Spencer opened the hatch. He grabbed one of the bags, feeling instantly from the weight that it contained their food. He tried to grab the second bag, but received a viscous reminder that his other hand didn’t work anymore when searing nerve pain shot up his entire arm. He pulled back, cringing.

Emily stepped in, grabbing the second bag for him.

They all watched as he and Emily opened their respective deliveries. His contained fruit and nutritional shakes, as expected. He sifted through in case there was a note inside, and when he found nothing, he placed the bag on the floor for everyone to help themselves to food.

“Huh,” said Emily next to him, staring into the bag.

“What?” asked Hotch.

Emily reached in and pulled out a deck of cards. She tossed it to Hotch, who caught it easily and turned it over curiously. She reached back in and pulled out a soft rubber ball next, just big enough to fit in her hand. She tossed that one to Derek.

“What the fuck?” said a bewildered Rossi.

“There’s a note, I think,” said Emily. “Hold on.”

She dug into the bag with a rattling that indicated at least another couple of items were in there, and she pulled out a folded piece of paper. She put the bag down and unfolded the note.

“When you put me in a cage I saw many who wanted to die but I knew better. Truth is the only freedom that matters. You will understand in time. Be good and it does not need to hurt. Dr Reid,” she stopped abruptly, eyes skimming the page.

“What?” he asked nervously.

It couldn't be another secret. That didn't fit the pattern. It would be JJ, Hotch, or Derek next.

Emily glanced down at the discarded bag, picking it up and digging through it, scrunching the note in her hand as she did so.

“Prentiss?” queried Hotch, approaching her.

She stopped what she was doing for a moment to wordlessly hand him the note, then went back to the bag. She tossed items on the floor as she went. A self-help book titled Radical Honesty: How to Transform Your Life by Telling the Truth, which was entirely too on the nose to the point where he almost rolled his eyes. A pack of crayons and an adult coloring in book.

“What in the actual hell is going on?” said JJ, looking at the strange assortment of objects. "Cheesy self-help books? A mindfulness coloring book? Does she have a 'live love laugh' throw pillow in there, too?"

Emily ignored her. She dropped the bag, apparently finding what she'd been looking for.

She held a triangular leather case, like the kind you’d put glasses in. Hotch, who had finished reading the note, stared at the case like it might come to life and bite Emily’s hand off. She peaked inside then closed it back up, shooting Hotch a significant look and gripping it tight in her hand.

Spurred on by the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and their infuriating silence, Spencer reached out and snatched the note from Hotch’s hand.

“Spencer…” said Emily helplessly, and the instant he glanced at the note he understood why.

Dr Reid, you are hurting. You can make it stop. It is your truth. Nobody else can chose for you. You cannot dispose of or destroy it. Break these rules and you will all be hurting.

He looked at the case in Emily’s hand.

He dropped the note on the floor, hands trembling more than ever. Someone behind him picked it up, but he wasn’t paying attention to who.

“What’s in the case?”

“You shouldn’t have to do this,” she said sadly. "It's not fair."

“You read the note, Emily. The last thing we need right now is to get gassed again or to lose our food supply or whatever the hell the next so called punishment is going to be. Let’s just get this over with,” he demanded.

After one last silent check in with Hotch, who could only shake his head helplessly, she extended the case to him. It was within an inch of his hand when Derek reached over from behind him and snatched it away.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he said, the note scrunched in his hand.

He tossed the ball of paper over to JJ, who read it alongside Rossi. A moment later, “What fresh fucking psychodrama are we in now?” from Rossi signaled that everyone in the room was up to date.

Derek opened the pouch and pulled out a single syringe filled with a clear liquid.

His heart skipped a beat as Derek’s thumb raised up to the capped needle, ready to snap it off.

“Morgan, wait!” yelled Hotch, hands raised to Derek in a halting gesture.

Derek froze, lip twitching with the heavy effort of self-restraint. “We're not doing this, Hotch, I swear to fucking god I don’t care what the consequences are.”

“I don’t…” Hotch struggled to string together a thought. His face was pallid and he looked like he might be sick. “None of us want to be here, but we’re here. We’re all going to do what we need to in order to survive. That’s what we agreed.”

“This is an escalation,” said JJ. “She’s moving beyond coercing us into revealing information. If we let her coerce us into physical action, where does this stop?”

The argument continued around him, but he wasn’t listening. His whole body itched. It was just him, alone in the room, staring at a syringe and weighing up the value of his life against the prick of a needle like he had a thousand times before.

“Everyone just shut up!” yelled Emily, snapping him back to reality. He locked eyes with her. They were all watching him. “What do you want to do?” she asked, paying no mind to the others.

What did he want to do?

He turned his back on all of them, raising his one functioning hand to rub at his forehead.

What did he want to do?

His words to Derek rang in his ears. I would shoot up right now, right here in this fucking room while you watched. He’d meant it. He’d really meant it at the time.

Then he decided to go and open a vein right here in this fucking room while they all watched.

He'd only just got back to them. Everything was different now and would be different forever and he hadn't even had time to understand how and the only thing he knew with absolute certainty was that every functional nerve remaining in his body was screaming for him to just take the needle and-

He swung around to face them all. “Give it to me,” he demanded, holding out his hand to Derek.

Derek looked him up and down. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What difference does it really make at this point?” he asked, sighing. “This wouldn't be the first needle I've stuck myself with. It wouldn't be the hundredth. You think this one is the difference between me being a junkie or not? This isn’t worth putting everyone at further risk for. Just give it to me.”

Derek’s nostrils flared. The fist that wasn’t threatening to snap the needle clenched and unclenched by his side. After a long, excruciating moment, he looked away from Spencer and loosened his grip on the syringe, holding it out to him.

He didn’t look at Spencer as he took it from his hand.

Spencer looked down at it, studying it. He twirled it in his fingers for a second, the way he would with a coin in a magic trick. For just a moment, he let himself feel, once again, like he was alone in the room with it.

Then, he took three strides to the door, opened the chamber, and dropped the syringe inside. He slammed the hatch shut with quite a bit more force than was necessary and made an exodus to far side of the room.

A ripple of relief spread through his companions. “Thank god,” he heard JJ sigh.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he opened his eyes to see Derek.

“Thank you,” he said.

Spencer nodded.

He faced the others. “Look, I’ve been back here less than a day. I’m literally sweating fentanyl right now and I can't think about any of this, so if we can agree to pretend it isn’t there and this isn’t happening until she removes the trash at the next food delivery, that would really help me out.” He looked up at the camera, meeting it’s blinking red light with a stony glare. “I won’t play this fucking game with you.”

He couldn't dispose of it, as per the note, but that didn't mean he had to engage. He could exhibit an iota of self-control, for once.

“Hey, it’s alright, Spence. You’re right, let’s not think about it,” said Emily. “Besides, we need to talk about what all this other shit is,” she said with a sweeping gesture at the odd assortment of objects that were strewn across the floor.

“I think what you did really scared them,” said Hotch. “They’re starting to realize you can’t just lock people up indefinitely with no stimuli and expect them to just endure.”

Emily picked up the self-help book and scrunched her nose at it. “If their goal is to stop us all from killing ourselves, the thought of this being the only book I’ll ever get to read again is having the opposite effect.”

Spencer was the only one who met her with a laugh instead of a chastising look.

“Why don’t we take a short break from profiling, put our respective breakdowns on hold, and just for one second pretend that this situation isn’t completely, irrevocably fucked up?” said Rossi, holding up the new deck of cards with a playful wave.

“Rossi’s right,” said Emily. “Sorting through those photographs was rough on all of us, and we've been at it for hours. We can discuss what all of this means for the profile after we’ve eaten and had a break.”

In agreement, they all helped themselves to a piece of food, though Spencer could hardly stomach the thought of eating and was doing so for their benefit more than his own, and arranged themselves in a circle.

He sat with his back to the door. He was not going to turn his head. He was not going to look at it. He was not going to look at it. He was not going to look at it.

Rossi shuffled up the deck. Derek had grabbed the small rubber ball for himself and was absently throwing and catching it where he sat while they settled in.

“So, should I let you all win a round of cards in order to boost morale?” smirked Spencer.

He had a tendency to clean up when they played together on longer trips on the BAU jet, much to both Rossi and Luke’s continuous annoyance, both of whom fancied themselves pretty good players.

There was a pang in his chest at the thought of his absent teammate. How were Luke and Penelope and Tara coping? They must be out of their minds. He missed them all deeply.

“Glad to see your piercing wit remains intact despite everything,” shot back Rossi. “Don’t do us any favors, kid, because I know you’re at less than peak performance and I fully intend to use it against you. Five card draw, aces high, no mercy,” he quipped, dealing out the hand.

With the game agreed on, they politely pretended not to notice as he struggled to rest his cards in his bad hand in order to free up his dominant hand for play. By pulling up his knee and resting his arm on it, he managed to finagle a position that allowed him to maintain a loose grip without much pain. Both his hands were shaking from withdrawal, but if he moved slow he could make it work.

A few hands in, and Spencer was surprised by how immersed he was. The only person who had managed to win a hand against him so far was JJ. She wasn't usually as into it as the rest of them, but the stress was bringing out a competitive streak that he'd rarely seen in her, including a fair bit more swearing than he'd heard from her since she had kids.

“The pattern is obvious,” said Hotch, unprompted, halfway through a hand. He had been putting in the bare minimum effort to participate, being the first to fold most rounds.

“The pattern where Reid keeps kicking our butts?” said Rossi, raising an eyebrow.

“Not my fault,” said Spencer. “You all know-”

“You’re from Vegas, yes, my god, we know,” said Emily, discarding her hand in exasperation. “You’ll feel right at home when we ban you from playing cards just like all the casinos did.”

“After this hand,” said Rossi, “we’re switching to Snap.”

Spencer huffed a laugh and looked at his trembling hands. “That, you might have an advantage in.”

He was almost having fun.

If he focused hard enough on the game and made the effort to joke around with them he could forget for a moment that he wanted to rip his own skin off. He could ignore the sickness, the flashes of vivid red that saturated his brain every time he caught sight of his scar, the loaded syringe sequestered in the hatch behind him.

Smile, laugh, joke, win another hand, joke, laugh, promise them, promise them he wants to keep living. If they wouldn’t believe his words, then he could show them. He’s laughing, he’s joking, he loves them. He wouldn’t hurt himself because he loves them. He’s not going to hurt himself. He promises. Different to the last time he promised because this time, he means it.

None of them were okay either but for his benefit, for all their benefits, they played the game. The least he could do is return the favor.

The least he could do is play the fucking game and stop thinking about where he’d stick the needle since his left arm was too freshly scarred to shoot up in right now and his dexterity was too fucked in his left hand to inject in his right arm, so he’d probably have to do it between his toes. That’s fine, he’s done it before, but it’s not the most hygienic-

“That’s not what I meant,” said Hotch, blessedly interrupting his train of thought. Hotch placed his cards down, face up, giving up any pretense of caring about the game. “The cycle of withholding and rewarding. It’s escalating. She trying to foster co-dependency, with her as some kind of maternal figure and us cast in the role of her children.”

Rossi rubbed at his forehead, tossing his own cards down. “Yeah,” he agreed sombrely. “We don’t clean our room, we don’t get dinner. We follow the rules, she ‘rewards’ us with the means of survival and demands gratitude. She’s likely recreating the same dynamic from her own childhood. If I had to guess, I’d say that imprisonment wasn’t her first experience with confinement. Her arrest and incarceration acted as a trigger, forcing her to relive that original trauma.”

"That's why she's so fixated on us. She perceives us as being responsible for her reliving her abuse and she wants to force us to live through it too, only this time, with her in the position of power," said Emily.

They all leaned in, thoughtful and considered, just as he’d seen them on hundreds of cases before.

“And what happens when abusive parents finally realize that their children can leave them?” asked JJ pointedly.

“Love bombing,” said Derek. “They do a 180 on the withholding behavior and do everything in their power to convince their victims that they’re safe, and to foster dependence in the process.”

Emily picked up the thread. “The gifts, the photographs and their tacit implication that they could be involving our families in this, but choose not to, the additional privileges and luxuries are all ways to make us stay. You know, this place is so secure, if there was a way out, we would have found it a long time ago. Whatever abuse she may have experienced, my bet is she compensated by developing an exaggerated self-preservation instinct. She’s someone who would do anything to survive, no matter the circumstances. She twists her trauma in her mind, re-contextualizing it as something that made her stronger and better. If she sees us as extensions of herself, she may not have anticipated that we could respond in ways she wouldn’t have.”

Spencer rubbed at his arm uncomfortably. “She leaned on deprivation and punishment as primary means of control because it never occurred to her that we might need to be persuaded to endure it.”

Hotch’s eyes flicked to somewhere behind Spencer’s head. To the spot on the door that he was diligently refusing to look. “That’s why she’s doing this to you,” he said. “What you did has thrown her plans off balance. She wants you to be dependent, but she’ll take it away as soon as you aren’t playing into her fantasy effectively enough.”

“I know,” he said tersely.

Of course she was trying to control him. She was trying to control all of them. He just had the misfortune of having a convenient dependence ready to go before they were even kidnapped.

Hotch’s face softened. “But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier,” he said sympathetically.

Spencer wrapped his arms around his knees. “Not particularly,” he admitted.

The crinkles around Hotch's eyes were deeper than they used to be, but there was more than that. He had laughter lines. Even as he frowned, the lines were visible. They hadn’t been there when he was with the BAU.

His jawline was softer when they had first woken up in the bunker, and while the weight had dropped off all of them during their detour into starvation, the skin hadn’t quite tightened up. The affects of age were showing in more than just the salt and pepper hair.

Everything that was different about Aaron Hotchner, yet the look he gave Spencer that made him feel like he could see right through him was exactly the same as it ever was.

He knew there was a question coming before the other man even opened his mouth to speak.

“Is there any part of you that’s doing this for yourself or is it all for our benefit?” There was no reprisal in his tone. Just sincere, morbid curiosity. “I know the only reason you're not using that needle is guilt. Do you care at all about what happens to you next?”

He sighed. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth.”

Not for the first time, Hotch needed something from him. All these questions and there was something he needed Spencer to say. He wanted to give it to him, but try as he might, he couldn’t figure out what it was.

Spencer rubbed at his eyes, allowing himself a split second fantasy that he would look up and be alone, with nobody there to hurt when he opened that hatch and claimed the only ‘next’ that had mattered to him for a long time: His next fix.

“I’m glad I didn’t die, I don't plan to hurt myself, and I don’t intend to get high,” he said carefully. “Those statements are true. Does it really matter why they’re true?”

Hotch mused, pursing his lips. “I suppose it doesn’t right now,” he said eventually.

Spencer looked at him. Really looked at him. He caught the looks on the others faces in his peripheral vision, an array of fascination and worry. Something clicked.

"What about you, Hotch?" asked Spencer.

Hotch blinked, straightening up minutely. He looked as if he'd just remembered that they weren't the only two people in the room.

"What about me?"

"Are you going to be okay?"

Hotch looked taken aback. He reached down and picked up his discarded hand of cards, shuffling them absently. He glanced around the circle at the others, all of whom were awaiting his response.

Eventually, with the utmost composure, he said, "We're all alive, which means it's still possible we'll all make it out of here and get back to our families. As long as that's true, I'm fine." He picked up the rest of the deck that was sat in front of Rossi and started shuffling that too. "I'm sick of poker. Let's play something else."

They all accepted the diversion, chiming in with suggestions for different games. Now wasn't the time to push. There was only so much they could all take at once.

Was this what Hotch felt like with him? Why he was so intent on trying to figure him out?

It was such a lonely feeling, to be a stranger to someone who used to be family. There were times where he felt like they were all a team again, but then these little moments would come along and remind him that they didn't know each other anymore.

He turned away, chancing a glance at the door that contained the hatch that contained the one solution to his problems. The room felt smaller than it ever had.

"Spencer," whispered Emily. "Ignore it," she reminded him.

Right. Ignore it. There was nothing there. There was nothing in the world except the people in front of him.

He picked up the hand of cards that had just been dealt in front of him, ready to play.