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iamcalmdammit · 2 years ago

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She said yes 6 — Now you know || [Steven Grant x reader x Jake Lockley]

Summary: Steven and Jake find out you're pregnant.

Note: part 1, part 2 and part 3, part 4, part 5. It's short, mosly a dialogue, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer. Also, I think I will end this series.

Taglist: @crystalchrysalis19 @pyrokineticbaby @susbuttercup @abrielleholland @yuukiahim @0mint-chocolate0 @collyrubies @wheresgamora @tubble-wubble @daddysfavoritesexkitten @obnoxioussmiley @moony-artemis @uncle-eggy @lokibutterknife @andrewgarfieldsspidey @dembiscuitstho @coffeyorky @padfootlovesyou @natkisskiss @princessleah129 @polyglot-noodle @daughterofthequeen @rocketxgirl @milkiane @m4nd0l0r @avatarofhathor @stormkobra-5

Steven had been in the dark about you for a while now. He knew you were hiding something from him, a secret that was eating you from the inside as time passed. But he didn’t dare to ask you, too afraid you would say something that could bring down his whole world.

Marc had Layla, while he only had you. If you decided to leave him—No, he couldn’t be this negative about your relationship, maybe it wasn’t that you wanted to leave. But ever since that incident with Jake, you’ve been different.

A part of him assumed Layla might be the key. After all, the two of you spent quite a lot of time together, she surely knew if something was bothering you. But when he asked her, she only told him to ask you for details. “There’s nothing to worry about, but you should ask her,” she said.

Needless to say, it didn’t make him feel any better.

“What’s going on with you lately? I’ve been trying to be patient, I swear I did, but I can’t take it any longer,” he once blurted out after an evening out.

You looked guilty, as if you’d been caught in a lie. You opened your mouth, giving him hope that you would finally give him the explanation he’d been dying to hear. But you changed your mind and bit on your lower lip instead of saying anything.

“Y/N, I’m begging you, talk to me.”

“I’m pregnant!” you finally spoke up.

Pregnant? He kept repeating the word in his head, having a hard time processing that he might have heard you just right. If it was true, it meant his life would change forever. And for the first time it would change for the better. “I’m going to be a father?” he asked hesitantly. You nodded, and he immediately pulled you into a tight hug. “This is fantastic! I’m so happy. How long have you known?”

“I found out about two weeks ago,” you replied with a sigh.

But while he was ecstatic, you didn’t seem happy at all. Steven tilted his head as he watched you with a frown. Why were you so grim? “And why haven’t you told me?”

“Because it’s complicated.”

“Why would it be complicated?”

“Because we’re not alone in this,” you finally told him. As you took a step back, he found himself standing in the same spot with his hands awkwardly falling to his side. “Sure, Layla was happy, but we have no idea what Marc is going to say. You share the same body after all,” you pointed out with a desperate look on your face.

Steven shook his head and quickly leaped over to you to put a hand on your shoulder and make you look at him. “It’s gonna be okay,” he told you with a smile.

“Yeah, but… I don’t know. And what about Jake?”

Steven’s fist clenched upon hearing his alter’s name. “Let’s not worry about him either,” he managed to say. “You know what? Let’s celebrate tonight!”

You looked unsure for a moment. “What’s the plan?” you asked.

“Hmm… Dinner? Maybe a movie?”

“Sounds good.”

Then Steven moved his hand from your shoulder to your jaw and leaned a little closer. “Or we could order food and stay here. In the bedroom, preferably,” he suggested as he placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“I vote for this one.”

“Yeah?” You nodded as you flashed a bright grin at him. “I love you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, getting lost in the sensation right away. “I love you too,” you breathed when you pulled away for a moment.

Steven was happy to have you like this again, looking happy and confident about your relationship. This kiss was full of love, he could feel it, which was in stark contrast with the kisses of the past few weeks. Those felt like you were only kissing him because you had to, because as his girlfriend this was something he expected from you. But now it was easy to tell how you truly felt about him and it made him let out a sigh of relief when he took a step back, took your hand, and spun you around.

“I can’t believe I’ll have a child. What would you prefer, a boy or a girl?” he asked as he swept a strand of hair behind your ear.

“A girl,” you replied without thinking.

“Me too. I would spoil her. She would be daddy’s little princess.”

You kissed him again then rested your head on his shoulder. “You’ll be a great father.”

“You think so?”

“Steven, you’re the sweetest, most caring person I’ve ever met. Of course you’re gonna be an excellent parent,” you told him seriously.

He could hide the smile that crept on your lips. It was so exciting, such a nice surprise after everything he’d been through with almost dying and finding out the truth about Marc’s past. But his smile faded when he heard you laugh. “Why are you laughing?” he asked with a confused look on his face.

“It’s just that you seem so happy.”

“Because I am happy. Why wouldn’t I be? I have a beautiful, smart fiancée and we’ll have a child together. My life is nice,” he admitted before kissing the crown of your head.

You let out a quiet chuckle as you took a step back and looked at him. He was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, you knew that now. But sadly, the man you were looking at wasn’t Steven anymore. That was the expression Jake usually had on his face when something was bothering him, when he was upset about something or someone.

And now the reason for this feeling was probably you. The thought made you gulp loudly and take a few steps back to build a safe distance. Jake didn’t even try to stop you, he just watched you with the same stern look that made you nervous.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked slowly.

“Jake, please, let me explain,” you instinctively said, hoping you could calm him down a bit.

“How could you not tell me?”

“I didn’t know how.”

Jake’s chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath then exhaled slowly. He had a hard time keeping his patience. “I’ll have a child,” he said as if he was just testing the sentence, trying to accept that these words were indeed true.

But you couldn’t let him get used to the idea so easily. While you let Steven believe it was definitely his child, you couldn’t allow Jake to think the same way. He knew about Steven so he had to know about the possibility of not being the father. “I don’t know which one of you fronted when I conceived.”

“Does it matter in this case?” You should have expected this. You should have expected Jake to ignore it completely. “I might not let Steven and Marc front again for a while,” he suddenly stated.

“Don’t be a dick,” you said without thinking.

“It’s not about me being a dick, it’s about you being safe. There’s a difference.”

Shaking your head, you let out a long sigh. “Since they’re not serving Khonshu anymore, I’m sure we’ll be fine,” you said calmly, even letting a small smile creep on your lips.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Jake noted.

“Why?” He remained silent. It wasn’t a good sign, he was hiding something, you could tell that from the almost guilty expression he had on his face. “Jake, why?”

“Because I’m serving Khonshu.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered while giving him a disappointed look.

Jake shook his head as he took a hesitant step closer to you. “It’s true. But don’t tell Marc and Steven about it. They can’t find out,” he warned you.

“Jake, you’re putting them in danger.”

“I have it under control.”

“Do you?”

He buried a hand in his hair and bit on his lower lip to keep himself from saying the first thing that came to his mind. Whatever he was thinking about, it couldn’t be good, you knew it. “You know, it says a lot about our relationship,” he suddenly told you bitterly.

His words took you by surprise. “What do you mean?”

“You’re worried about them, but not me,” Jake explained.

“You can protect yourself.”

“If anything happens, I’ll front and protect them like I always do.” You had never seen him be this… angry. Or was he really angry? No, it had to be something else you couldn’t quite understand yet. He took a deep breath to calm himself and put up his hands. “You should move here so I could keep an eye on you too,” he said.

“Layla and Marc wouldn’t be happy, they need their own space. And how do I explain this sudden idea to move in together to Steven? He’s already suspicious.”

“Tell him about me.”

You gave him a surprised look. “Tell him what?” you asked, deep down hoping he didn’t mean what you thought he meant by this.

“That we keep talking and that I want to protect you and the baby,” Jake explained.

Oh, okay, this wasn’t so bad. Maybe Jake just knew about the baby and decided to front again in your presence after a long time. But something still wasn’t right. “And why do you care so much about a kid that’s not yours?” you asked.

“Because it might be mine.”

“I can’t tell him that,” you exclaimed angrily. “He can’t find out that—It would break his heart.”

Jake opened his mouth to say something, but in the end he decided to stay silent. Maybe he didn’t want to fight now. Then, as if you weren’t in the middle of an important conversation, he decided to give control back to Steven. Just like that, without putting up a fight. You didn’t even have to ask him to do it. This was new. Jake usually came and went as he wished, barely caring about things like you being on a date night with Steven. And now… It was odd to say the least.

But when Steven flashed his adorable smile at you, you couldn’t help but push these thoughts away. You shouldn’t worry about him, you should use this opportunity to spend some quality time with Steven, to celebrate your pregnancy.

“Why are you looking at me like this?” he suddenly asked.

Shaking your head, you quickly closed the distance between you and wrapped your arms tightly around his body. “Just promise you won’t ever leave me,” you muttered into his chest.

Steven let out a heartfelt laugh as he patted your head. “I would never do that. Why are you suddenly talking about such things? Why would I leave you?”

“I don’t know.”

But it was a lie, you knew perfectly well what came over you. Jake was still serving that stupid bird, putting the whole system in danger. Putting Steven in danger. How could you be okay knowing something could happen to him? You almost lost him when he was in Egypt, you couldn’t risk losing him again.

Not when you weren’t the only one who waited for him back home.

#moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #jake lockely x reader

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noirineverysense · 3 years ago

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ACP au - spies and stuff

Yes this exists, yes it will probably continue to exist. Sorryy.

He’s thrown back in the chair, water drips from wet strands of his black hair.

“Well, who was your informant?”

“Fuck you.” Zak seethes. “I’m not telling you shit.”

The team’s target, Kamal Vittal, sighs before making a gesture to his henchmen. Zak is pulled out of the chair again and his head is pushed into a tank filled with water.

Bubbles rise to the surface as he thrashes and fights to breathe. He’s kept down longer this time until it feels like his chest might explode.

Them he’s pulled out and he takes gasping breathes of air. Vittal forces him to his knees with a simple shove down.

“Who is it agent? You’re not really going to die for a traitor, are you?”

The image of Ash flashes in his mind, his stand-offish attitude that slowly made way for his inner charm and warmth. And slowly made its way into Zak’s heart.

He flushes at the thought, he’s not sappy like Isaac and Arthur. The two co-leaders were already starting to make comments about them being reminded of themselves. Like Layla said, he was running short of jokes that didn’t sound hypocritical as is.

The thoughts of his team make his eyes sting with tears. It’s been so long now. They were coming to get him soon. Right?

“Oh, is it all getting too much for you, boy?” Vittal sneers. “If you give me the name, I’ll let you go, how about that?”

Zak wipes his eyes angrily, “I’m not saying anything, how many times do I have to say it? Losing your hearing or something?”

Vittal growls before storming to the spy. He grabs Zak by his hair and drags him to the tank.

Zak struggles against the painful grip. Fear taking over him as he’s forced to face the water, his nose already getting wet.

“I’m not going to let you up this time. I will drown you if you do not give me the name right now.”

Zak watches his bloodied and beaten reflection, his skin starting to go pale from being kept in dark cells all day. A single tear drips, adding to the endlessly large trough.

“I said no. Kill me already. I’m not telling you anything.”

His head is plunged underwater, the world turns to a blue hue as he tries to hold his breath. His hands grip the edge of the tank and he tried to pull himself up, but the fist clenched in his hair stays, pushing him down into the water

He watches as bubbles of breath escape him and he knows that his time is limited. He tries to think of his team as his last thoughts. His lungs feel like they are going to burst.

His legs kick out in one last attempt to escape. Eventually, he can’t hold his breath anymore and large air bubbles burst at the surface of the water. The body underwater start to go limp, staying there even as the hand lets go, and a tear rolls down his cheek.

Suddenly, he’s pulled out in one quick motion. He feels his back land in another’s arms as he retches and coughs out water. Words fall out of the mouths of two blurry figures and he can’t make out either.

Zak can tell that some kind of fighting is happening around him, grunts and gunshots surround him. He starts to be able to understand the words someone is mumbling to him.

“It’s going to be okay, Zak. We’ve got you, I’m sorry we took so long.”

He looks up to find two people, Isaac and Ash, the latter with tears in his eyes.

“Zak! Are you okay?”

Zak pulls his lips into a shaky grin, “Never better.”

Isaac smiles back and the three are joined by Arthur and Layla who had managed to take down Vittal and his henchmen.

Arthur ruffles his hair and looks at him sadly.

“I’m sorry, Zak. We couldn’t find him. We didn’t stop looking, I swear.”

“I know, it’s okay, Arthur.”

The sniper of the team let out a huff of laughter. “You’re doing just fine, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, Layla. I wasn’t about to die or anything. You can all go back if you want.”

Ash huffs before picking Zak up in a bridal carry, much to the flustered protests of the other.

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

Zak sighs before leaning into him. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

They both share a look before laughing. Ash starts to walk out of the room, carrying Zak with him. Isaac and Arthur follow, leaning into each other as they talked. Layla sighs at the group’s romantic nonsense before walking out of the door behind them. She stops in the dark corridor as the others continue to make their way out of the base.

Her trained ears pick up a small sound. “Hey!” she calls out. The others stop. Arthur’s expression darkens.

“What is it? Did he have back-up?”

Layla just puts a finger to her lips and quiet whimpers could be heard.

She follows the noise, taking out her gun before entering another room.

There was a girl in the corner, a leather collar around her neck and a tag around her ankle.

Ash’s eyes widen.

“R-Rosie?!”

#amow mafia madness #swimming with the fishes #drowning #interrogation #near death #human trafficking #acp spy au #acp

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polin-erospsyche · 4 years ago

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The prompt number 16 is quite interesting lol 16. “Control your anger or you’ll have me to worry about.” Choose the ship/character you like :)

Hello! Ok, there are literally zero reasons as to why it took me a year to write this bloody thing except maybe that I had some not fun moments and also this literally never could have been written if I hadn’t waited this long. I don’t know if you’ll read it. You’ve probably forgotten about this in all fairness but if you do read it I hope you like it.

Also taking this opportunity to thank everyone for following me. I’m at 400 followers! This is insane. I’m not sure why you’re all following tbh but to celebrate I forced myself to finish this long overdue fic, hope you like it! Also disclaimer: I love all of the characters from TLH. I am aware of the existing debate around Matthew and Alastair and my writing in here does not represent my point of view. But I I decided to represent Matthew and his view in this way for story telling purpose. Please don’t come at me with gun blazing. If you do wanna talk, we can, but in peace 😊💕

Somewhere Where Our Shadows Meet, It Feels Like Coming Home -

a Fairdale one-shot (is that even their brotp name???)

This was the fifth time James was rereading the passage of the book he had picked up. It was no use. Each time he finished the page he had already forgotten the beginning. His mind was foggy with a multitude of thoughts. Thoughts about Lucie and her strange dalliance with a boy who used to be a ghost, about Grace which inevitably led to unsolicited questions on his own identity, and, as much as he tried not to think about it, thoughts of Matthew and Cordelia. He really did not enjoy these last kinds of thoughts. He couldn’t help but imagine what kind of relationship could have blossomed between the two during their trip to Paris. He knew how Matthew felt, but when it came to Cordelia, he had no single clue. He constantly wondered as to whether she hated or loved him. Daring to hope that he hadn’t ruined everything. Just for that hope to vanish the next second because there was no possible way he did not ruin it. And even if ever decided to ask her, he would have no idea how to approach the topic without sounding like an arrogant bastard.

James let out a long breath, rolling his shoulders, trying to let go of the tension. He was pretty sure that if he ventured to look at himself in the mirror that was hung above the chimney, he would see huge dark circles beneath his eyes. Circles which color could rival the color of London’s night sky. A result of many nights plagued by bad dreams and worry. During some of those sleepless nights, James had gone to Cordelia’s room. The first time it was under the pretext of looking for books. Her room had been full of her personal belongings. A bottle of perfume on her vanity table, an evening dress carefully laid out on the chaise longue, a copy of Majun and Layla on her bedside table. So many little pieces of who Cordelia was scattered in a room she had run away from. She hadn’t been back to Curzon street since that night. Upon arriving in London, she had decided to move back with her mother using the excuse of the soon-to-be new baby’s arrival. James kept going to her home though, eventually admitting to himself that he did so because of the smell of Jasmin that lingered. It was the closest thing he had to a semblance of her presence in the house. It was a soft smell that grounded him. It was also a heady smell that reminded him of the sweetness he had lost.

He shook himself out of thoughts of her. Something he had gotten quite good at to be fair, considering how many times he thought of her in the span of a day. Pushing himself up from the table he was leaning against, he closed the book he was reading, giving up on understanding it, and made his way to the window. Outside the sky was tinged in pastel colors drawing the day to a close. James would slowly make his way back home. He would rehash the day, come up with new plans to wake his sister from her deep sleep, find out that these plans would fail again come morning, and finally decide that he would need to eat a bite because going to bed with an empty stomach was just not advisable. His parents had offered for him to stay at the Institute with them but James had refused. He preferred the calm and silence of Curzon Street. He found that the bittersweet cloak that covered his house was, in some ways, almost reassuring. Maybe he was going insane. Just when he was ready to go bid his goodnight to his family, he heard the doors of the library open wide behind him and slammed shut again.

“Did you know?” Matthew growled. James might have thought that he himself had gone slightly deranged chasing down the smell of Jasmin throughout his home, but at least he did not look half as unhinged as Matthew looked right this instant. Matthew’s eyes were wide, his pupils dilated, and his fist clenched so tight his knuckles were turning white.

“Are you alright?” James asked, keeping an even tone.

“Did you know?”

“Know what?”

Matthew took a few strides in James’ direction. His stare holding James’ gaze in place as if daring James to contrary him. “Did you know about Thomas?”

“Um yes,” James nodded, a sly smile playing on his lips. “I do know Thomas.” At that Matthew narrowed his eyes and almost seemed as if he was trying hard not to grind his teeth. Noted. Attempts at humor and alleviating the situation were not going to work. “What about him?” James tried again. His smile replaced by a serious gaze.

“Did you know about Alastair?” Matthew asked, almost spatting out Alastair’s name.

James took a few steps back, reinstating the much-needed personal space for such a conversation. James did know about Alastair, but only because Thomas had looked so miserable and James had pried so insistently that Thomas had had no choice but to give up his well-kept secret. James had understood, sometimes you couldn’t choose who you fell in love with. Sometimes you fell in love with something that only you saw in the other person. Love was usually shrouded in mystery this way, best not to question how it worked. Obviously, by the look of things, Matthew did not agree.

“Please sit down,” James pointed to one of the green velvet armchairs. “I’ll pour you a drink.” James said, making his way to the stash of liquor in one of the dark wooden commodes. James had always wondered what kind of people, for what kind of situation kept alcohol in the library of all rooms. It always seemed to him that a secret stash of tea would have been more appropriate. Now he understood what kind of situation required people to put alcohol in every room, even if it was just one abandoned bottle of Parkmore. “Is Whiskey alright?” James turned his head in Matthew’s direction.

“So you knew?” Matthew answered, seemingly in a staring competition with the mustard yellow wallpaper in front of him. “He told you?”

Whiskey it would be for a total lack of all other present choices James thought as he started to pour a glass.

Matthew kept going on his verbal onslaught towards the wallpaper. In all fairness mustard yellow was a color that could potentially enrage everyone. “How can he? It’s Alastair that we are talking about. It’s not as if there wasn’t any other man in London that Thomas couldn’t have a fling for.”

James very much doubted that a fling could start to describe Thomas’s feelings for Alastair. However, seeing how Matthew was nearly spitting out every single one of his words, he thought it safer not to share this piece of information.

“Matthew, please calm down and control your anger or you’ll have me to worry about.” James handed the glass to Matthew, which he waved away.

“No, thank you. I don’t drink.”

James squinted. “Since when?”

“Since Paris.”

James couldn’t help but feel a pinch in his chest at the mention of Paris. Paris city of lights, city of lovers. An escape his friend had taken with the only girl James had ever, truly, loved since he was barely old enough to understand the concept. It was a wondrous thing how much pain a single word could hold.

“What a strange place to decide to stop drinking.” James took a sip of the honey-colored liquid, trying to hide his hurt to the best of his ability.

“Cordelia asked me to. That was her condition for coming with me.”

James did not want to go in the general direction of a conversation that involved Cordelia. Especially not if that conversation was with Matthew. He had written a letter. James had understood. He slightly had the urge to strangle his best friend for going with her; for loving her; he did not quite know. But that was it. They hadn’t spoken of Paris nor of Cordelia together and that was for the best. Neutral conversations were for the best, they could avoid the hurt and the blame, and if James let it come to that again who knew what would be next. Yet he couldn’t help but ask.

“Why did you leave?”

Matthew turned to James, his anger receding ever so slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” A beat, a choice to either keep going or retreat before it is too late. A beat, a choice to see where this could go “why did you go to Paris?”

“You owe me an answer first. Did you know about Alastair?”

“Yes.”

“How could you not tell me?”

“You weren’t here Matthew.” James’ voice almost broke, almost. “How was I supposed to tell you anything?”

James had wanted to throw so much more at Matthew’s face. Throw words that he wouldn’t be able to take back. He had been feeling so alone. So utterly lost after Grace’s admission. After Cordelia’s departure. He had needed his best friend. He had wanted to tell him so much, to figure it all out with him. To have Matthew hold him at times when he didn’t know if he could hold it up together and tell him, simply, that he believed in him. But Matthew hadn’t been in London. He had been in Paris. Happy. With Cordelia.

“And you accept it?” Matthew asked, carefully studying James.

“I guess it depends on what we are talking about. In any case,” James turned away from the fireplace to look at his friend. “why are you so against it if it makes Thomas happy?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because Alastair doesn’t deserve to be loved?”

“Maybe it is more about deserving a second chance rather than deserving of love. Maybe it is about getting a chance to fix your mistakes. Surely no one is worthless of that.”

“Sometimes the mistakes are too big to fix.” Matthew shrugged, breaking eye contact.

“Is that why you ran away?” The question was asked so softly as if asked any louder and James would be terrified to see Matthew run away again. James wasn’t sure he could bear it, no matter how much frustration towards Matthew he still felt.

“I didn’t run.” Matthew shook his head. His gaze far and distant as if in another land, in a shadow realm. “I took a train, there’s a difference. And I left because of Cordelia.”

James had an inkling he hadn’t left because of Cordelia but rather Cordelia had followed in a desperate pursuit to drown both of their sorrows in the glamour of a city like Paris. After all, Paris was so similar to Matthew, it was no wonder he had chosen it. At the surface, both were golden and shining like a polished jewel box. Once that jewel box was open, however, shadows, pain, and sadness would pour out like a damn breaking loose.

“I never thought you’d try to run away from me.” James knelt in front of Matthew, his knees landing on the soft midnight blue carpet. “That one day, I’d become a part of the shadows that you try to outrun.”

Matthew turned around so fast and reached for James’ face. His green eyes were darker than usual. “You’re not my shadows, Jamie Bach. You’re my home. You are the reason why I still believe I’m worth being forgiven for.” He said those words like a damned man dying for a confession, following blindly a faith he held so dear to his heart, hoping that that faith could be his saving grace. James understood that he had become that faith.

“Forgiven for what?” James asked.

“I can’t tell you.”

“It’s me, Matthew. What is so bad that you cannot tell me?”

“I can’t tell you because I’m afraid. I need you to stay with me. I need you to believe that I am good, even if it means that you believe in a lie.”

“Matthew …”

“If you keep choosing me and believing in me,” Matthew interrupted. If he couldn’t finish now, he never would. “then maybe I can believe that I am no monster.”

“You are not a monster, you are my parabatai.”

James felt like they were back on that bridge, at night, so close to being let in in Matthew’s secrets. Back then James hadn’t been in control of himself, he hadn’t known what was happening to him. He had lost his chance. It would not happen again. It could not happen again. James was so tired of walking a frayed rope line with Matthew, guessing at hinted truths. Being someone’s constant north took work and time and effort but because it was Matthew, James could do it. He would always do it and he needed Matthew to know that as clearly as they both knew that one day would come when they would both cross the other side together. Because after all, that was what it had always been about. Despite shadows and lies and deceptions and miscommunication, they would always be together. So James continued.

“Do you know what that means? It means that I made a promise to you. I said entreat me not to leave thee, for wither thou goest, I will go. If aught but death part thee and me. I will not leave. No matter what you’ve done, I will stand by you, because that is the choice that I have made. That I still make. There is not a thing in this world that you could have done that would make me stop loving you, calon fy enaid.”

Matthew looked up at James and teased “Does that mean that you accept my feelings for Cordelia?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I must say, I don’t think I’m her type. It’s a pity, really.” Some strands of Matthew’s hair fell in his eyes as he shook his head. James could see the old Matthew again. The carefree one that balanced out his own shadows so well. The one he would choose and forgive a thousand times over because he too was his home.

“Matthew.”

“All right, all right.” Matthew threw his hands up in a mock gesture of surrender. “I just … wish you could promise that I would not lose you.”

“I promise.”

“You can’t promise something you don’t know.” Matthew said before he started to talk about his own misbeliefs that had led to a terrible accident. James listened and did not judge and stayed long in the night after Matthew had said everything that had weighted so heavy on his heart for so long. And somewhere, under the warm light of oil lamps and next to a warm fire, the frayed rope between the two started to mend and James could only describe the feeling as one of coming home.

Tag List: @lady-ofroses @clockworknights @the-axewielding-herondale @tess-the-dreamer @coloandreablog

Do let me know if you want to be on the tag list and I’ll happily add you! (I have a tag list now visibly, wild and mind-blown) I will try to post more now that my exams are somewhat done. Who am I kidding? There will always be more stuff to do XD

#tlh fanfic #the last hours fanfiction #the last hours #tlh #coi spoilers #coi #chain of iron #chain of gold #chog #Matthew Fairchild #james herondale #lucie herondale #jesse blackthorn #cordelia carstairs #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #grace blackthorn #jordelia

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kurlyfrasier · 4 years ago

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The Plan: Step Two

Raph x Reader

Synopsis: Reader has a plan to win her favorite terrapin over. Step Two: Get him to notice you. If only Raph would stop leaving in the middle of practice!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1500-ish

It had been months since Raph finally agreed to teach you how to fight, and it felt like you had gotten nowhere. Yes, your fighting skills were getting decent. Yes, you got to spend all of your free time with Raph. But he was keeping himself at a distance, or so it seemed to you.

The first few weeks you wore a t-shirt (that was a little too big) and sweats before practicing in leggings and a tee that fit a little better with a lower cut. When that didn’t work, you upped your game with school-appropriate length shorts and a cami. Now you wore short shorts and a sports bra- no shirt- and had been for almost a month. Still, Raph never ‘accidentally’ touched you inappropriately. Never said anything inappropriately. He didn’t even look at you inappropriately! It was starting to get more than frustrating. It was starting to sear a black hole in your heart.

You were going to fail.

Did he even find you attractive?

You groaned, sprawling yourself out on the floor as you waited for Raph to return from helping Mikey with- you couldn’t remember. You didn’t know because you never heard Mikey asking for help in the first place. Raph just suddenly stopped the lesson and said he would be back- that Mikey was calling for him.

“What’s wrong y/n?” Donnie’s voice from above had you gasp in surprise and had your eyes opening wide. You hadn’t even heard him walk towards you.

“Nothing...just waiting on Raph,” you replied as you sat up and wrapped your arms around your knees, sounding hopeless.

“I thought he was in here? I was going to give him his phone back,” Donnie glanced around the room as you gave him a quizzical look. “He broke it last night on patrol. Again.”

“Oh. He’s helping Mikey with...something,” you shrugged.

“Mikey?”

“Yeah.”

“Getting the pizza?” Donnie asked in suspicion.

“I guess? I don’t know. Raph just said Mikey was calling for him,” you explained.

“Okay,” Donnie drawled. “Mind giving this to him when he gets back?”

“Sure,” you answered, grabbing the t-phone from his outstretched hand before he left the room mumbling to himself.

After a few more minutes of inactivity, you shivered.

“If ya put on some clothes ya wouldn’t be so cold.” Your head snapped to the entrance to find Raph sauntering in.

“I am wearing clothes,” was your automatic reply. “I get hot if I wear more, is all.”

“Ready?” he said, taking a fighting stance as if you were actually a worthy opponent.

“Yeah,” you stood up with a stance of your own. “Did you guys get the pizza?”

“Pizza?” He let his arms drop a little, face scrunched in confusion.

“Yeah, Donnie said you guys went to get the pizza,” you barely registered his confusion, too engrossed in thinking of a way to get past his defenses.

“Uh, yeah,” he put his arms back up.

“And you don’t wanna eat first?”

“I- uh- when I found out he jus’ wanted someone ta go with him I told him I was trainin’ with ya an’ told him ta go by himself.”

“Oh...okay,” you punched at him, hitting nothing but thick forearm when he blocked it.

“Good hit,” he commented.

“Good hit?” You asked in exasperation and relaxed your stance, arms hanging at your sides. “Raph, you easily blocked me- like always.”

“Doesn’ mean it wasn’ a good punch.”

You sighed, more upset that Raph didn’t seem to be interested in you more than anything. “Can we stop for the day?” You asked hopefully. Raph was a strict teacher. Shortened sessions did not happen unless someone was dying. “I’m exhausted and I’m sure the pizza will be here any minute anyway.”

“Sure,” he shrugged, acquiescing easier than you thought he would.

“Really?”

“Yeah. ‘M starvin’ anyway,” he turned to walk away, barely giving you a second glance.

“Wait!”

He stopped at your demand, but didn’t face you.

“Mind if I borrow a shirt? I didn’t bring anything extra with me because I was running late,” you lied. You didn’t run late and you didn’t forget anything. You left you hoodie and sweats at home, hoping Raph would let you borrow one of his oversized shirts- maybe get some sort of reaction out of him. Damsel in distress and all that.

“Sure,” he rumbled out, sounding weirdly pleased. You cocked your head, confused because you had never heard that sound from him before, but followed him to his room anyway. Every once in a while you would hear Leo make a rumbly purring sound around Layla, mostly on movie nights like tonight would turn into- hence why Mikey was getting pizza- and wondered what it meant.

Was it a good thing?

Or was he annoyed?

You decided you would ask Donnie about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raph couldn’t stop the happy chur that emitted from deep within. It wasn’t often his chur slipped out and usually it was when he was thinking about you late at night after everyone else was asleep. Needless to say, he was relieved when you told him that you needed to talk to Donnie the moment you had his shirt on. He didn’t think he’d be able to stop the deep chur that was quickly building as he watched you leave his room. He didn’t even comment for fear of churring instead of speaking.

What a freaky mutant thing to do- another thing to remind you that he wasn’t human.

He practically slammed the door shut behind you so he could chur in peace and maybe find a way to keep it in during the movie later. Raph decided that Donnie might know a trick or two to keep the chur in and headed to the lab- completely forgetting the fact that you left to go talk to the same brother.

“...make rumbly sounds?”

Raph stopped short in a panic outside the lab when he heard your voice.

“Sure, Raph’s always rumbly,” Donnie chuckled, sounding distracted.

“What about Leo?” You asked, causing Raph’s curiosity to peak. “He does some sort of purring thing when he’s around Layla.”

“Yeah. What about it?” Donnie seemed to be wary of where the conversation was going. Which, in turn, had Raph worried.

“Well, have you ever heard Raph make that noise?”

Raph internally groaned. He had hoped you didn’t hear him chur in the dojo, but apparently, you had.

“Not really, no.”

Raph sighed, thankful his brothers hardly ever heard the embarrassing noise out of him.

“Oh,” you sounded disappointed. “What’s it mean, then?”

“Uh...Well, you see- um-” Raph peeked around the corner to see Donnie was doing everything in his power to not look you in the eye. You were making it difficult, though, constantly moving in front of him to gain his attention. Raph barely kept his chuckle from bubbling up- glad it wasn’t him. “That’s not really something that we- uh- like to talk about.”

“It’s not?” You asked innocently.

“Right. It’s kind of…,” Donnie sighed in defeat. “Personal.”

Raph took that as his cue to interrupt, pretending he hadn’t heard a thing. “Hey, Donnie. I got a question for ya.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Donnie mumbled before giving his brother a sly grin. “What a coincidence, Raph. Y/n has a question for you.”

Raph’s heart sped up in a panic- betrayed by his own flesh and blood. Not that he could blame Donnie, it wasn’t his fault you were so curious, so troublesome, so adorable in that oversized shirt. Not that he was looking at you. He couldn’t without embarrassing himself, so he looked past you. At the interesting vial of goo behind you.

“N-no I don’t,” you stuttered out, eyes shifting toward the exit as you rambled. “No questions here, haha. I mean, do ya think Mikey’s back? You know what, nevermind. I’ll go check. Bye!”

The guys watched you leave in amusement. The moment you were out of earshot Raph turned to his brother, churring uncontrollably.

“Oh you’ve got it bad, don’t you,” Donnie grinned.

“How do I make it stop,” Raph’s eyes bugged out, panting.

“How do you usually stop it?”

“Holdin’ my breath.”

“Well, you can’t do that all night. You’ll pass out.”

“Naw, ya think?” Raph’s chur turned into an aggravated growl.

“Maybe don’t try to stop it?”

“Wha’? Are ya crazy!” Raph’s arms flailed at his sides. “She’ll hear it.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“Yeah, it’s embarrassin’.”

“Maybe telling her won’t make it so daunting. Once she knows that it means something positive-”

“Positive?” Raph’s fists clenched.

“Yeah,” Donnie shrugged. “If you put it in the most vague terms, anyway.”

“Like?” Raph growled threateningly low.

“Just tell her it means you’re happy. That should keep her off both of our backs.”

“Happy?” Raph thought for a moment before gently nodding. “Yeah...I guess tha’ could work. Thanks Don.”

“No problem, Ra-” Donnie turned around to see his brother was already gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Step Three

#tmnt #fanfic #my writing #tmnt fanfic #raph x reader #raph #donnie #angsty #leo #mikey #cute #ugh tags #happy

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writingonacloudblog · 3 years ago

Text

I Will Always be His Daughter

I remember when I was six-years old, my father would deadbolt the doors so no one could get in, but also so I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t go outside to play with the other kids or even run around in the backyard. I always wondered why he did that but even when I was a teenager, I never had the courage to ask. Mostly because my father looked at me like I was a monster he was required to live with. I always thought he would kill me one day, but I actually came out of that house alive. I saved up all the money I could find around the house as my father drank his life away and promised I would never see him again. And if he died, I wouldn’t care.

As I sit in my kitchen with a cup of coffee in my hand, I can’t help but think of what my father is doing right at this moment. Mostly because it’s been twenty years since we last seen each other, and I remember that day vividly. I was sixteen years old at the time and I finally saved up enough to leave his house for good. So, I grabbed 2 outfits and put them into a small trash bag to go on my own journey to find my identity. Sadly, it was a special day for me, the mother I lost, and a tragic day for him.

“You ungrateful little bitch…” He mumbled under his breath as I walked into the living room with my bag in hand. Even though I was 16 I knew I needed to act like an adult and take my life into my own hands. I needed to make sure the life I was given isn’t wasted away on a drunk old man who can’t remember he has a daughter to take care of. I wanted the life I would see on all the TV shows like My Wife and Kids and Good Times where the family would laugh with each other and be understanding even when there are struggles. I wanted a family that would love me unconditionally and not push me towards a dark abyss of depression.

I looked at him with tears in my eyes trying to keep them from cascading down my face. I didn’t want to show weakness as I was about to leave. I wanted show that I was stronger than what he thought I was. I wanted to show him the “monster” that he didn’t create.

“So, you want to leave? You are just like your mother you know?” He laughed as he took another swig of whiskey.

“How can I be someone I never met? She died before I was born, or did you forget? Are you that drunk that you can’t remember that? That drunk that you can’t for a second remember her!” I asked feeling the suppressed frustration being released for the first time. I could feel tension in the room as I said these things most 16-year-olds wouldn’t mouth to their parents. It’s always respect your elders but never respect children as well.

“You should ask yourself that question. Don’t you realize everything I have done for you? The long nights I have worked to make sure you had food or the clothes you are wearing, “

“You made that money so you could drink it away. I am not that innocent child anymore. I know exactly what you have done for me! Nothing. All you have done for me is make me resent you,”

“LAYLA MARIE!”

“You have no right to call me by my name. No right to have kept me locked up in this house. And the audacity to call me the name that my mother gave me? You are a real piece of work.”

“Watch your mouth…”

“No, I won’t. I am tired of not living my life! I have no one here. I am alone here. I am tired of being treated like I am some murderer!” I yelled with every breath I had left. I remember feeling my throat become scratchy from all the yelling. I remember clenching my fist wanting to harm him in some way. I remember hearing him laugh at me and mocking me with a smile like a Cheshire Cat.

“I should have let her give you up you know. Because if you weren’t here, SHEwould be here!” He yelled at me his smile changing like the weather. From sunshine to a thunderstorm his whole demeanor became dark. This man was my father and I had to get away.

________________________________________________________

I put my coffee cup down into the sink and go into the fridge to grab the cupcake with a candle on top that I bought after work. When I place it on the counter all the memories of my father flash before my eyes. Him sitting in his recliner after he got off work, watching the NBA playoffs as I sat in my room wondering why I wasn’t allowed to eat that night. The smell of whiskey and cigarettes in the living room wafting up my nose even though I am in my own house, like my father was right beside me. I lit the candle on the cupcake with my lighter thinking of all the birthdays I had before. They weren’t happy at all.

“Happy Birthday Layla….” I say to myself before I blow out the candle not making a wish. I never made one in the past so why make one now. I could hear my phone ring in the other room. I check the time on the oven and it’s too late for anyone to call me. I have no friends or a lover. Its just me against the world as it should be. But for some odd reason I get a feeling that I should answer immediately. Like my world will crumble if I don’t. So, I walk into the other room and pick up my cell phone, hesitant to answer.

“Hello?” asked the voice on the other line. The words wouldn’t form from my mouth.

“Hello? Is this Layla Jones? I am calling about your father, Fredrick Jones,” Hearing his name for the first time in years made my heartbeat rapidly like a drum. Why am I getting a call about him?

“Y yes this is her. Who am I speaking to?”

“I am a nurse at Matagorda General Hospital. I am sorry to inform you of this news, but your father passed away this morning.”

My heart and time stopped. I didn’t know whether to celebrate or to cry. I didn’t know whether to tell her to go away and leave me alone or to cry and ask if she is lying. 20 years later and no call or an apology from him. And now he’s gone from this earth.

“I’m so sorry Ms. Jones. If you would like I can connect you to,”

“No no that won’t be necessary. Thank you for letting me know,” I said before hanging up the phone and sitting on the floor staring at the wall. I knew I have to go back home and bury him since he didn’t have anyone else. At least that’s how I left him. I left him there with his whiskey in hand drunk like he always was.

I take few deeps breaths to calm my nerves and get up from the floor to pack my suitcase for my flight back home. I know don’t have a ticket, but I know that I can get one for 2 days later. I grab my nice black suitcase with leather handles and grab the clothing that is suitable for the humid weather that makes your hair frizz up into an afro. I close my suitcase up after getting everything packed away neatly and set it to the side in my room. I always thought one day I would have to face him, but I didn’t think I would be facing him in a coffin.

________________________________________________________

A few days later, I landed in my hometown feeling a sense of myself again. The humidity embraced me into a tight hug as I placed my bags into the car I rented for the few days I would be here. I put my old home’s address into the GPS hoping that when I arrive my father still hadn’t moved out. Driving down these small-town roads and seeing places I never got to explore like the schools or the small shopping center, makes me feel like I don’t know this place at all. The only place I remember is my fathers’ house and the airport. The only memory being my father and that’s all.

I pulled up to the house and saw about ten cars parked on the side of the road along with 3 cars parked in the driveway including my dad’s old 1990 Chevrolet Impala. I didn’t think my dad had anyone in his life when I left. He never had friends that came over to watch the game or have a couple drinks. He never really talked about his family or my mom’s family since he was practically disowned, and he felt a lot of guilt about my mother’s death that he never told them that I was still alive.

I got out of my car and locked it, walking up to the front door that has changed since I was last here. I remember staring at the old front door analyzing the rusted screws and the dents on the top and bottom. Now it has changed to a door as white as dove with bronze screws and a beautiful flower wreath that makes me think of the gates to heaven. I try to calm myself taking a few deep breaths as I lift my hand to knock on the door wondering who I will face.

A woman opens the door staring at me, and I don’t recognize her. She was about 5’5’’ with a salt and pepper braided bun greased down to perfection, her eyes red but her demeanor stronger than a bull. I could smell her perfume and felt a sense of nostalgia to the old ladies in church who would always sit in the front of service and fan themselves while singing every church hymn loud for everyone to hear.

“Can I help you?” She asked staring me down like I was a threat to her.

“Yes, ma’am I am just wondering if I am at the right place actually.” I said looking past her and seeing about 20 people in a house with a changed interior from what I left it. The recliner he used to sit in is gone. The smell of smoke and whiskey doesn’t waft towards my nose anymore, but a scent of lavender incense mixed with this woman’s perfume surrounds me.

“Well, I can only tell you if you let me know what you are looking for chile,” She placed her hands on her hips and stared at me like she was trying to figure out who I was.

“A man I used to know lived here and I heard he passed away, so I came to pay respects. But I think I might be at the wrong place,” I stared at the ground and sighed preparing to be on my way to the hotel I booked. I could feel her eyes analyzing my face and my clothing wondering if I was some good for nothing child who is looking for trouble. Most likely asking herself why I had showed up at her house?

“Well, the only man who stayed here was my husband, Fredrick. Are you a friend of his from his old job? Or from the grocery store?” She asked, her eyebrow arched up. I couldn’t tell her I was his daughter because I doubt he ever mentioned me. His daughter who left him behind to find her own life. And imagine being the wife of a man who had daughter you didn’t know about?

“Yes, ma’am I knew him from the grocery store. I am sorry for you’re lost.”

“This gathering is only for family but thank you for the condolences. I am sure Freddie is in a better place.”

“Mom” a feminine yet bright voice called from behind her. When the older woman turned around, I caught glimpse of a girl who looked similar my dad with light brown eyes and his nose. She looked to be in her early twenties with a beautiful black designer dress you would see in Vogue magazine. She must be my fathers’ pride and joy since she doesn’t look like she has suffered at all.

“Yes Kayla?” the older woman asked back.

“Who’s at the door?” Kayla asked catching a glimpse of me before I put my head down looking at the ground, praying to God that I can just run back to my car and get the hell out of here.

“Just a bagger from the grocery store baby girl.”

“Well Aunt Shelly needs help with the potato salad she’s about to put raisins in it again.”

“I swear this woman is gonna make me lose my damn mind…” She mumbled as she turned to look at me. “Thanks again for coming by Honey, we all appreciate it. These last 2 days have been very hard on us. I used to go to the hospital everyday to go check up on him and it hurt me to see him in pain. I am just glad he is back home with the lord. He was such as good father and an even greater husband you know?” She tried to hold back her tears. I couldn’t agree on anything she was saying at all. The father I had was not good at all. He wasn’t some angel sent from heaven, but I guess that’s just her view of a devil in disguise.

As she and I said our goodbyes and the door closed in front of me, I regretted going back to my father’s home. I got back into my car with my suitcase in the trunk and drove back to the airport. There was no reason for me stay there when I’m not his family anyway. The way he treated me I shouldn’t want to pay respects to him at all. He had a new wife and daughter while I was struggling to come to terms that I never will have a sitcom relationship with him. I had to go to therapy and find love within myself because I lacked the love and support of a parental figure. He made me look like a fool again except in death.

I drove back to the airport straight from the funeral. I didn’t care how much a plane ticket would cost me, I just wanted to go back to my life again. I wanted to leave the past behind and pay attention to my future again. I sat in the waiting area and all I could do is stare at the carpet, watching the patterns expecting it to change and have some type of relief. I remember sitting in this airport with a trash bag, a plane ticket, and no plan, crying for someone to save me from him. I begged God to end my suffering and let me be with my mother. Yet, he was a good father?

When I got on the plane, all the comprehension of what just occurred just wouldn’t add up to me. He had a whole replacement family that doesn’t even know about me. I bet they don’t know about my mother or how he was a useless drunk so many years ago. The man who I begged to be my father for years until I had enough.

When I arrived back at my condo from my overnight flight back, I went to check my mailbox for my usual credit card bills and rent reminder. But instead, there was an envelope with a scent I knew too well. I looked at the envelope and read Fredrick Jones on the left-hand corner. A part of me wanted to burn the letter in the fireplace, especially since I wasted a trip to be confronted by his new family that he most likely treated in the way I always hoped he would treat me. But the other side of me wanted to open the letter carefully and cry until my eyes became sore. I wanted to open and see an apology for the way he treated me all those years. I wanted to finally hear him say that I am not a disappointment or a murderer.

So many things in one letter that I wanted to be said so I can cry until I can’t cry anymore. The years of hatred I had for this man and the love I was looking for in this man will be buried 6 feet under. But I will never open this letter. I will never forget my father and I know I will always be his daughter.

#shorts #original work

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laylacooke · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t Be Suspicious || Luce & Layla

timing: Late July, Midnight parties: @divineluce & @laylacooke summary: Luce & Layla have an unexpected meeting in the woods in the middle of the night.

The one benefit that had come out of the fidget spinner ordeal had been the ability to throw out claws and teeth when a fight came. Partially transforming hurt, but it had become easier when it came to needing protection. However, it was the fine art of fully transforming at will, that Layla was focused on. It had been something that had scared her greatly for multiple reasons. The immense pain of shifting, being one, but the fear of killing somebody again, being the biggest. It’s why her need to find a good place in her head and her heart where she could have full control over the shifting was important, and it’s why she had ventured out to White Crest National Park to try and work on her werewolf skills on her own. However, having been in the same spot trying to focus had led to nothing but frustration, which eventually led to Layla letting out a frustrated growl that echoed through the trees.

“Get back here, you piece of shit--” Luce growled as she ran through the woods, her lungs burning as she chased the creature down, her sword haphazardly rattling in its sheath as she pursued the monster. It wasn’t anything particularly hard to handle, just your run of the mill ghoul-- but still. She’d been running in the forest a few nights ago when she’d realized that she was being watched, being followed. Which is why she was back here now, turning the tables. She’d been through so much bullshit; she didn’t need to add a ghoul stalking her back to her cabin to the list. As she ran through the trees, a growl rang out through the woods, startling her. “What the fuck?” She said, as she slid to a stop, staring through the darkness around her. “Someone out there?” Luce asked. Or was it something?

Falling to her knees in pain, the young werewolf still couldn’t figure out the way to fully shift voluntarily. What was she doing wrong? Every full moon it came naturally leaving her broken and sick, until the animal took over giving her new life, but right now, all she could feel was newly formed fangs and claws which left her mouth aching and her hands sore, “Why won’t you change?!” The frustration running through her blood left her clawing and gripping handfuls of dirt before flinging it into the distance. But a voice stopped her from doing anything else. Animal instinct forcing her to sniff the air, Layla’s yellow eyes darted around looking for the culprit. The scent of a human and the sound of their heartbeat gave the young werewolf what she needed to go hunting, but she still had control and knew she had come out here for a reason, “I don’t want any trouble, okay?” Her eyes scanned the forest as she climbed back to her feet, “I just came out here to hike.” Yes, it was partly a lie, but maybe it would be enough to get the person to leave.

As Luce made her way through the trees, she saw a fallen form in the middle of the woods, clawing at the dirt. Stopping in her tracks, her hand instinctively went to the hilt of her sword. Not that she thought she’d have to use it, but… after that shit with the demon voice changing Santa in the woods and her run in Shocky Mc-Fuck-You, she was wary of things that lurked around the woods. Even though the national park was one of the safer places in White Crest, it never hurt to be careful. But, when a voice came from the crouched figure, she relaxed, hand resting on her hip instead. “You hurt or something?” She asked, wondering why this girl was out here in the middle of the night. Luce was looking for trouble, but not this kind. She was in the business of fucking up some of the ghouls and monstrous creatures that roamed the woods, not rescuing injured hikers. But, if she had to, she would. “You fall and twist your ankle?” She asked, clicking the small flashlight secured around her arm, the beam cutting through the darkness.

Layla kept her head turned and her fists clenched. The last thing she had wanted was to scare this woman, or worse, get into a fight with her. If anything, the redhead just wanted to be left alone. Find her peace and go back home. Ari and Ulf had probably been wondering where she was at, and Indy needed to be fed, “No, I was just out. Wanted to see the stars. I hear it’s pretty in this area at night.” Her face was aching from the fangs and blood seemed to drip down where they had forced their way out of her skull and gums. It was her heartbeat that was keeping them out, along with her claws. The fear of what this random person might do to her. However, before she could turn her head quickly enough out of the path of the light, she felt it hit her eyes and reflect off of her yellowed hues revealing that she wasn’t exactly human.

“Uh huh.” Luce said, nonplussed by the words. Out. To see the stars. It sounded a lot like the excuses she had made when Roland had caught her out in the woods. Well, she wasn’t a cop and she wasn’t going to go bothering some random girl in the woods if she wanted to be out here alone. With a shrug, she was about to move on with her night, make some comment about staying out of her hair when she saw the flash of yellow in the girl's eyes, a familiar shade she’d once seen glint in Ulfric’s. A werewolf. Huh. Well, how about that. “Just wanted to see the stars huh?” She said before tilting her gaze up. “The moon’s really bright tonight. Pretty.” She said with an offhand comment as she leaned back to look skywards, the sword on her hip glinting in the moonlight.

It was too late, and there was no use in turning her head. The woman had clearly seen what Layla was. It was apparent in her voice and the comments that were coming out of her mouth. The glint from the sword caught Layla’s eye, and she slowly started to back away, “Please. I’m not out here to hurt anybody. I didn’t think anyone would be out here this late, and I knew it would be a good time to...try and figure some things out.” She didn’t want to outright say what she was. It was clear this woman already knew. Her heart was beating a little harder in her chest at the fear of what might happen, and she had started to pant.

As the girl began to back away slowly, it didn’t take a genius to realize what had her spooked. Ah, shit. Luce let out a sigh and held her hands up. “I’m not a hunter, don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you. I was just out here,” She paused, not sure how to answer. She’d literally just said she wasn’t a hunter. And she wasn’t. She was just out here… trying to make the woods a little safer, deal with some pesky ghouls that had a knack for making a mess of things. “On a hike. And in a place like this? It never hurts to have protection.” She said with a shrug. “Are you sure you don’t need any help? You don’t exactly look like you’re in good shape there.” She said, glancing at the way the girl’s hands were inhuman and gnarled.

The woman had a point. The woods of White Crest weren’t exactly the safest and knowing that reasoning made her feel a little less stressed. However, Layla still wasn’t fond of being around someone with a huge sword, “I guess that’s a good point. No pun intended...” She looked down at her hands, “Um, they should heal up on their own when my stupid claws go back in.” She hated not being able to have full control over herself. It made her unsure and leery when she was forced into certain situations. Layla’s intent was never to hurt anyone. As a werewolf, she couldn’t control that hunger. She had tried, but as a human, she was determined to keep those around her as safe as possible, even if that spelled bad news or pain for herself, “So hiking in the middle of the night huh?” She was starting to become a little more comfortable knowing that the woman’s vibe wasn’t really as hostile as she once presumed it to be.

Watching as the girl looked down at her hands, Luce cracked a crooked grin at the joke. “Like I said, I’m not going to hurt you. Just gonna have to trust me on that one.” She said. There was a certain irony in the fact that she was meeting another red-headed werewolf-- seemed like Ulfric wasn’t the only ginger wolf running around in these hills. But she wasn’t about to out him to some random werewolf in the woods. “Well, as long as they heal up fine, sounds good to me.” She said with a shrug. At the further question, Luce raised an eyebrow. “That’s what I said, right? Insomnia’s a bitch.” She said. She wasn’t even going to attempt to explain what she was doing out here. Besides, she had a feeling getting rid of the local ghoul problem wouldn’t do much to reassure the girl that she wasn’t a hunter. “Besides, you’re out here too, kid.”

“Yeah, I got that. Look, these things...I can’t make them go back in.” She held up her hands flashing her claws. “That’s why I’m out here. Trying to learn how to control what I was forced to become...” Her words kind of trailed off. Layla hated being a werewolf. She had learned to forget what she most of the time, but when it would come creeping back in, the regret held heavy in her heart. Shaking off that same feeling that seemed to be coming in stronger than before, she looked Luce in the eyes, “Yeah, insomnia is an absolute bitch.” Letting out a soft sigh, she decided a truce was in order in case they were to run into each other again in the future, “Name’s Layla. Consider this my way of trying to draw some kind of truce that if we see each other out here again, we either go our separate ways or are friendly to one another. Thoughts?”

At the girl’s words, Luce’s eyebrows raised even higher. What she was forced to become? What, was she some kind of bite victim? Luce didn’t know much about werewolves outside of what Ulfric had told her over drinks from time to time, but she’d only ever known born wolves. Then again, she had no idea what Ariana was, but she wasn’t exactly going to ask the girl. She had a feeling that talking about the girl’s background might… bring up some bad memories. The thought of Celeste, of their brief date in the woods not all that far from here, came back to the forefront and Luce shifted uncomfortably. “A truce? You make it sound like I’m out here trying to start shit. I already said I wasn’t gonna hurt you. Twice, in fact. So, chill.” She said before shaking her head. “If you try and go off on me, you won’t like it. But whatever, kid. Next time I see a red wolf running around, I’ll look the other way.” Luce snorted.

Geeze, she reminds me of somebody, but I just can’t… “Uh, excuse you, I didn’t come out here sportin’ a huge ass sword. Who carries a sword anyways? This isn't King’s Landing.” Fucking bounty hunter. That’s who she reminds me of. “And I guess we’re not doing the name thing, huh?” Layla’s claws and teeth were beginning to go back in. Feeling threatened went out the window. “And if I see someone carrying a big ridiculous sword on their hip like Jaime Lannister, I’ll look the other way. So, I guess we’re on some sort of mutual ground. And don’t worry, I wouldn’t expect you to shake on it.”

At the girl’s comment, Luce let out a short sigh before shaking her head. She honestly didn’t want to start shit with a wolf, she really didn’t. Ulf had warned her that wolves could be dangerous, and here was a young girl who’d been turned and was sitting there with her claws and teeth out. Not exactly someone she wanted to fuck with. “Luce. And yeah, I’m not about to shake on it.” She made a scratching gesture with her hands before pointing at the girl’s hands. “Sure. Mutual ground works for me.” With a sigh she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Well, if you’ve got this whole… tooth and claw situation on lock, I’m gonna go.” She said before backing away from the girl, returning into the darkness of the forest. The ghoul problem would have to wait for another night-- when there weren’t teen wolves in the woods.

#para: don't be suspicious #divineluce #wickedswriting

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letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years ago

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Why Can’t We Be Friends || Ariana, Layla, & Orion

TIMING: Before Ariana lost her name PARTIES: @laylacooke @3starsquinn & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Layla had a fun day planned with Rio and Ariana, but notices the awkwardness between them.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. The three had planned this a few weeks ago, long before things had completely blown up in Orion’s face. Or rather, before his lies became public knowledge. It was so easy to be mad at Athena. So simple to blame her for this. But it wasn’t that clean cut. Rio was more to blame than her, as much as he hated to admit it. Ariana was right, he should have been the honest one. It shouldn’t have come from Athena. Rio knew that much. Rio was supposed to be the good one.

Rio considered calling it off. Ariana wouldn’t want to see him, and being there would just make things awkward. But then again, maybe Ariana wasn’t going to come either. She was the one that wanted space from him, so if she cancelled plans with Layla, then Layla would be left all alone. Rio didn’t want that. So, maybe against his better judgement, Rio slipped on a hoodie and ventured out into the heat to meet up with Layla. And.... oh no. Ariana was there. Rio stood at a distance for a while, contemplating whether or not he should ditch. He even got so far as to spin around and walk in the opposite direction before he felt guilty and turned himself back around to march up to them. “Uh- Hey guys. Sorry if I’m late.” Rio was staring at the ground, fiddling with his hoodie sleeve as he tried to think of excuses to get out of this. For Ariana’s sake. “How’s it going?”

If Ariana said the thought of cancelling this whole thing with Layla and Rio hadn’t crossed her mind, she’d be lying. With everything in her own life seemingly crumbling around her, Ari knew she hadn’t exactly made a lot of time for Layla. She’d seemed so excited about this outing that Ari felt a pang of guilt for wanting to cancel in the first place. Even if she was having a hard time moving past Rio not telling her about the hunter thing, she could at least try and put on a happy face for the day. All she had to do was not think about it. Or Athena. Or Ace. Or Lydia. Or Winn. Or Miles. Or the foreign thoughts running through her head. Fuck. She really was an actual disaster right now, but she sipped away at the iced coffee in her hand hoping to maintain some air of normalcy. With everything going on, she knew she hadn’t made as much time for her best friend as she should have been and boy did Layla seem excited to have a totally normal day. While they waited for Rio to show up, she piped up, “Oh, I read that Impossible Foods is going to start being sold in grocery stores soon. I actually like that one. Tastes like the real thing.”

It was hard for Ariana to wrap her head around keeping up with vegan news as a natural predator, but she was trying to get better at vegan cooking so she could make nice things for Layla. She could smell Orion approaching before she saw him. She caught the way he paused and contemplated even walking over. Part of her would have been relieved if he’d just walked away, but she knew it would upset Layla. Things were finally calming down for the other wolf a little bit and she wanted to give her the day she deserved. She waved awkwardly as she fought the instinct to clench her fists. “Hey, Rio.” Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. While it was more than apparent Rio wasn’t a threat to them, she still felt a familiar sting when she looked at him. She’d trusted him with so much and he hadn’t been able to do the same with her. “It’s going,” she answered, her voice strained before she turned to Layla, “So where to? Do we wanna grab food? Food sounds good… oh, or we could go to a movie and get a bunch of snacks. Yeah, a movie would be good!” Shit, she was definitely being squirrely and not doing a good job at pretending like this was all chill and okay.

“Really? You know I’m honestly surprised that you’ve been trying Vegan food. I mean considering you were raised on meat and full moons give way to even more meat, but I’m proud of you, Bestie.” She gave Ariana a good firm slap on the shoulder. Layla had needed this. She needed a day of not feeling like at any moment her life could turn to shit again. She had already been publicly humiliated by the cop that had arrested her at Veggie Tables in front of Evelyn. And in fact, if it hadn’t been for Evelyn, her lawyer, and Winn’s generous donation to get her out, she would have probably still been occupying a jail cell. And now with the news of Winn being in a coma, the young werewolf was starting to feel overwhelmed again. But she was determined to make this day good. She knew Ariana needed it. Figured Rio probably needed it. And when both her friends were now standing nearby the smile on her face spread even further.

“Hey Rio! O-M-G. I’ve been looking forward to this day for a while.” Turning to Ariana, she narrowed her eyes at the girl’s enthusiasm, before shrugging it off, “Since you’re so adamant about a movie, then I’m game. What about you Rio?” She turned to the boy. “I don’t know what’s playing though. I haven’t seen a movie in over a year.” It was true. Life had drastically changed for the girl, but nevertheless, with some normalcy finally showing its face, Layla was down for movies, snacks, and just spending the day with her two best friends.

Okay. Things were okay. Or well, okay-ish. Orion could tell that things weren’t all there. Ariana wasn’t as carefree as she usually was, and while Rio’s natural state of being was nervous he had actually calmed quite a bit around Ariana and Layla. Or at least he had prior to this whole ordeal. Now, Rio wasn’t sure how he felt. The only thing he knew for sure was that he felt guilty. Very, very guilty. But Ariana had shown up and that was a good thing, right? Maybe the two had a chance after all. “A movie!” Rio chimed in happily. That would mean that he didn't have to talk a lot, which meant that he had little chance of saying the wrong thing or embarrassing himself. It was perfect. “I’m so in for a movie. Whatever is out. Doesn’t matter. I’ll watch anything. Should we go now?” Rio was ready to flat out run for the place if it meant they could get in the theatre and not have to talk for two or more hours. “Hanging out is so fun!”

Ariana could not be more grateful that Layla seemed to be clueless to the tension between them. Sure, Rio was usually a little bit spazzy, but he seemed to have calmed down around her as they spent more and more time together. Now it was back to square one. Probably worse than square one. A movie would make it easy enough to ignore the tugging feeling in heart. He seemed so uneasy that she just almost wanted to say ‘fuck it, it’s fine,’ but she didn’t quite feel that way yet. She still felt hurt by the whole situation and couldn’t just look past her own feelings just yet. Instead, she somehow mirrored his spazziness. “Oh yeah, there’s like always some sort of superhero movie out. Hot people kicking ass in tight suits? Sign me up, fam.” She grabbed on to Layla’s arm, hurriedly trying to direct them toward the movie theater.

Okay, what the hell was going on? One person seeming spazzy was okay, but by the way Rio and Ariana both spouted out words followed by Ari grabbing her arm and tugging her towards the theater, the teenager stopped moving and pulled her arm away from the smaller wolf. Crossing her arms, she narrowed her eyes and sent a hard glare between the two of them, “Okay. What the fuck is going on? One of you acting spazztastic is one thing, but both of you?” She wanted to know. She could smell the desperation coming off of both of them, and Layla refused to move until someone told her something, “My ass isn’t moving from this very spot until one of you, or both of you, explain.” She let her eyes move from Rio to Ariana and then back to Rio feeling like he’d be the one to crack under pressure if she just stared at him long enough.

The goal had been simple. Hang out with Layla and Ariana. Have fun. Be friends. The drama between Ariana and Orion had definitely been a detour. The drama with the whole love potion business might have made things even more awkward. But despite how the hunter thing was most definitely Rio’s fault, she hoped that Ariana didn’t fault him too much for something that he couldn’t control. But if the three of them could have made it to the movies then they could have at least enjoyed that in silence. But unfortunately, Layla had to be observant enough to realize that the two weren’t being normal. Or at least Ariana wasn’t being normal. Rio was usually a spazz. Layla eyed the both of them, settling on Rio and his face lit up like a stoplight. “Um…” He began, unable to be any more literate than that for a long moment. What did he even say? He had been involved, but this was Ariana’s anger. He had no right to try to explain that away to Layla. “I uh- there was just a situation. I don’t know how to explain it well. We’ve-” He cut himself off. He wanted to say they had moved past it to make Layla more comfortable, but had they? It didn’t seem right. “I mean, I messed up.”

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Layla was able to tell something was off. Ariana was rarely, if ever, spazzy. Lying had never been her strong suit though. Normally, she wouldn’t have even bothered, but she wanted Layla to have a good day with her friends. She stopped alongside her friends and let out an exasperated sigh. “Layla, it’s fine. I’m just mad at Rio for something that happened. We can still go watch our movie and go about our day,” she explained, hoping Layla wouldn’t push. Even if she was upset with Rio, she wasn’t about to out him as a hunter. That wasn’t her secret to tell and she at least trusted he wasn’t about to hurt any werewolves now. She was still slightly annoyed that Athena had made it sound like he was, but she knew their relationship was strained. She had enough going on outside that to not dwell on it entirely too much. Especially not when they still had to coach soccer camp together everyday. She frowned slightly and looked between Rio and Layla. “We don’t have to do this right now.”

She could tell Rio wanted to say something, and she was hoping he would. But when he clammed up, Layla turned her attention to Ari. Her eyes were still narrowed and suspicion was apparent. Whatever was going on, she was going to get to the bottom of it. How could she go in and enjoy a movie and sit between two people that were angry with one another? There was always the option of forcing them to sit together, but she knew Ariana could get feisty, and she didn’t want to see Orion get hurt, “No, we don’t. But we’re going to. What makes you think I want to sit in awkward silence for two hours while you glare at each other with me shoved in the middle? So one of you better start talking or you remember that version of myself you met about a month ago? She’s gonna return.” No, Layla wouldn’t bring back dark!Layla, but maybe if she gave her two friends a little kick in the ass, they might actually decide to come clean.

Orion sighed and rubbed at his temples. This wasn’t what he wanted for today, though he couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t seen something like this happening. He should have listened to his gut and called things off with Layla. Showing up was only going to cause more stress with Ariana and ruin her and Layla’s day which was the last thing that he wanted to do. What a freaking idiot. He crossed his arms, letting out two humorless and drawn out laughs at Layla “Ha ha. Very funny.” He didn’t even know where to begin explaining this, because it was so deeply rooted in fears that felt too deep to explore in what was supposed to be a casual hang. “Ariana didn’t know. About me being a hunter.” Rio mumbled, tapping his fingers nervously against his arms. He felt like pacing, to get rid of some of their nerves. Or maybe to avoid making any eye contact. Probably both. “And I messed up and didn’t tell her. And it’s more complicated than that but what matters is I didn’t disclose information that I should have.”

Of course Layla couldn’t just let this be. The last thing she wanted to do was air out their fight to Layla, but here they were apparently. Ariana wished she had just bailed on this hang out. “Layla, look, it’s not a big deal,” she tried to reason, but then Rio was beginning to explain and mentioned he was a hunter as if Layla already knew. It dawned on her that Layla did in fact already know about Rio which only served to make her angrier. Was she literally the only friend he didn’t tell? What was it about her that made her seem less trustworthy? He’d had no problem telling their other friends, but let her walk blindly into telling Athena everything. Her fists clenched and her face reddened. “Wait, are you saying she knew,” she questioned with an angry edge in her voice. “Am I seriously the only person you didn’t tell? You were totally okay telling everyone else, but knowingly let me tell your sister everything? I stayed with you guys for a week and you didn’t feel like you could tell me after I told you everything? Am I missing something or are we not actually even friends?” Her knuckles grew white the more she balled up her fists and she could feel angry tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

And there it was! The cat was out of the bag, and boy was it out, “Wait...hold up.” Her eyes darted from Rio to Ariana back to Rio again, “Are you telling me that Ariana didn’t know you were a hunter? Like after all this time? And your sister...the creepy twin, no offense, told Ariana you were a hunter?” She paused for a moment. “Well shit, Rio, no wonder she’s pissed. She had to deal with Athena. Has...to deal with Athena.” She looked to Ariana, “And he didn’t tell me he was a hunter. I kind of figured it out when he saved my life from a vampire in the woods a couple of months ago. It just never came up in conversation, so I never thought to say anything about it. And even if it did, it kind of wasn’t my place.” She shrugged uneasily, hoping it would relieve some of Ariana’s anger, if she knew how Layla had found out. Knowing about Athena was a completely different story though, “Look. I’m not taking sides, but Rio had every right to withhold that information, just like you have the right to withhold the knowledge of what you are.” She looked back to Orion, “And I’m not saying you were in the wrong for keeping that private, but I'm a prime example. If you’ve got a good heart, even as a hunter, this one’s not going to fault you for it. She still accepted me after I came clean about my past.” The teenager sighed softly, “If you guys want some time alone to talk this out, then we can hang out another day. I just don’t like seeing my two best friends fight. I love you both, okay?” She put her hand on Rio’s shoulder and then Ariana’s. Using some of her wolf strength, she pulled them in close to her for a hug, before releasing them, “Just let me know what you want me to do. If you think I need to stay, then I can stay. If you want me to go. Then I’ll go.”

Layla was right in the middle of this now. It was the opposite of what Orion had wanted to happen when he had shown up this morning. And despite Layla’s best efforts, Rio wasn’t sure he agreed. He did owe it to Ariana. There were too many opportune moments. When Ariana told him about her. When he found out about Celeste. When Ariana told him about her crush on Athena or told her that she was going to tell Athena about being a werewolf. This hadn’t just been about Rio’s secret, but Ariana’s safety. Something that Rio wanted so desperately to believe that he was looking out for when he didn’t tell her. Was that really why he had withheld the truth from her? “I didn’t tell anyone.” Rio didn’t want to defend himself. He just wanted to tell the truth. “It doesn’t fix things. And I know it doesn’t change that I should have. But everyone that knows about me... well I didn’t exactly tell them. They just sorta found out.” Ricky had been the only one that he had ever actually gotten the chance to tell directly, and even that had been after a pretty suspect event that gave the fact away. Rio accepted the hug from Layla, welcoming the warmth of the embrace but unable to shake the fear he had that Ariana was going to hate him forever. “I don’t want to mess up your plans. Honestly. It was dumb of me to come today anyways. I should have given You more space.” Honestly, what had he expected? “I think you two should go. I can head home.”

Even if what they were saying made sense, Ariana found it hard to really take any of it in. Anger and hurt just seemed to be bubbling over the surface. She had no idea what to even do with it. She shot Layla a glare, “Athena isn’t creepy. And yes, she told me about her and Rio both being hunters. She was at least honest with me.” Logically, she didn’t want to hurt Rio, but she felt herself beginning to lose control of her temper either way. “I would have understood. You knew my sister was a hunter. You knew I was talking to your sister and you just-- You don’t trust me? Is that?” Her cheeks were turning cherry red and she couldn’t seem to relax her hands. “Rio, that doesn’t make it any better that everyone had to figure it out. You can’t just not talk to people about important things because you’re afraid to have actual fucking conversations. That’s not fair to anyone.” She crossed her arms over her chest and realized she was on the verge of tears. She didn’t much feel like hanging out with either of them anymore. “Look, you two enjoy your movie or whatever. I don’t feel like hanging out anymore,” she finished and stormed off before either of them could protest. While she was only mildly annoyed with Layla, she couldn’t shake the feeling of anger towards Rio. They’d have a better afternoon without her and she was eager to return home to Luna.

Things hadn’t quite gone as Layla had hoped, and she had felt like she had opened her mouth too soon. Her heart ached for her friends, and she now felt guilty for making things worse. It was the glare from Ariana that hurt the most, and she wanted to protest her friendship with Athena. Tell her friend how the girl had threatened Layla’s life if she hurt Frankie, despite being egged on to shift by both Athena and Nell. But when Rio threatened to leave and the smaller of her two friends stormed off, the redhead knew their day for fun was over. Sighing and looking at the ground, she took a moment to think, before making up her mind, “Well, you know what? Why don’t we all just go home. I don’t really feel like seeing a movie anymore anyways. Sorry, Orion, and I’m sorry for opening my big mouth.�� Giving him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and a sad smile, she walked off not sure if going home was the right option, but not really feeling in the mood for hanging out regardless of where her feet took her.

Why wasn’t Orion surprised? As usual, he had screwed things up. Ariana was right. Rio didn’t get to keep friendships that weren’t based on the truth. Whether he followed the hunter heritage or not, how did he expect to build a relationship with others when he couldn’t even be honest about himself? Ariana stormed off first. With Layla following shortly after, her plans and the mood are completely ruined by their conversation. The two of them could have had a fun day if Rio hadn’t shown up. But that was his whole shtick wasn’t it? Ruining things was what he was best at. It was only a matter of time before he drove everyone around him away. He slumped his shoulders, waving a goodbye to Layla before finding the nearest bench and crumpling onto it. He wished he had done things right. He wished he had friends to hang out with today. He wished he hadn’t screwed things up.

#wickedswriting #why can't we be friends #layla #orion #rio #chatzy

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heyyyharry · 5 years ago

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Chapter 16: Falling Like The Stars

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

…in which their best friends get married.

Word count: 6k

Chapter 15: 🎃 HALLOWEEN SPECIAL 🎃 Fright-day Night - Another Halloween treasure hunt.

Wattpad link

A/N:

- We're so close to the ending already! Grab some tissue and get ready to say goodbye to these beloved characters. The final chapter is called 'FLATMATE' and it comes out on November 6 😿

- After Flatmate, I will take some time off and return in December with a new series called The Conman And The Maid. Feel free to talk to me about it or ask me questions.

Listen as you read:

- when Layla walks down the aisle

- when Harry and Y/N slow dance

"Wanna do something bad?"

"Right here?"

Harry got a glare and a pillow thrown at him for that reply. "No! I'm going to meet Layla's parents this morning," Y/N said as she joined her husband on the couch. "The wedding is tonight. I have to make sure they'll be there."

"But wouldn't Layla be mad if she found out we were going behind her back?" His face contorted as he pondered.

"Yeah." She gave a half shrug, pursing her lips. "Layla is too proud to admit that she wants them to be there. I know she constantly says she hates them but I also know she doesn't really hate them, otherwise it wouldn't bother her so much that they might not come to her wedding."

Harry tossed his head back and heaved a sigh. "Well, should we at least tell Niall?"

"I already did." Y/N grinned. "He gave me their addresses."

"Wait, so we're just...going straight to their houses?"

"Yes?" She raised an eyebrow as her husband did the same. "What? You thought I was going to call them and formally invite them out for lunch?"

"Uh...yes?"

"Well, no. They would make excuses to say no like they did when their own daughter invited them to her wedding. We're going straight to their houses."

"I haven't even said I'd do it."

"You're doing it." She got to her feet and pulled him up by the arm. "We're in this together. For better or worse, remember?"

"This isn't what I meant when I said that!" Harry whined, but his wife had already thrown on her jacket and grabbed his car key.

"Either you go with me or you can't talk to Ria tonight."

"You're a monster," he gasped, making her giggle.

"That's just marriage, baby."

Layla's mother lived only an hour away from her so Y/N couldn't understand why she'd never come to visit her daughter. Y/N was not yet a mother herself, but she knew when Asteria grew up and finally went away to college, she wouldn't mind the distance to come visit her once in a while. But maybe not all mothers were the same. And sadly, not all mothers loved their children, either.

Y/N had never seen a photo of Layla's mum, and all the basic information she'd got was from her best friend's depressing stories about her problematic family. The woman's name was Maureen. She used to be an alcoholic, and now she was living alone and only occasionally drunk, or so Y/N hoped. The lady was sober when she answered the door, but it was easy to spot the empty bottles and packs of beer under the small eating table.

"Who the hell are you?" Maureen asked in an obnoxious tone. She had fair skin, dark brown hair, and light eyes similar to Layla's. She could be an older version of Layla if it was in an alternate universe where Layla didn't care about clothes or makeup or a healthy lifestyle.

"I'm Y/N and this is my husband, Harry. We're both friends of your daughter's," Y/N said cheerfully as she put on a smile, whereas Harry gave the woman the same frown she was giving them.

"My daughter?"

"Yes, ma'am." Y/N nodded. "Your daughter is getting married today and—"

"Why aren't you at the wedding?" Maureen cut her off, looking doubtful as she gripped the handle. Y/N was just waiting for her to slam the door in their faces, but gladly, she didn't.

"The wedding is tonight, actually. Um...I just came to make sure you were coming because—"

"Did she ask you to?" Once again, she didn't let Y/N finish. She seemed indifferent, so it was hard to tell how she really felt about this, or if she felt anything at all. She crossed her arms and leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, ready to have a conversation right there. Y/N didn't think it was rude, because why would she invite two complete strangers into her home?

"Did my daughter ask you to come here?" Maureen repeated the question when she didn't get an answer.

"No, ma'am," Y/N said.

Shaking her head, the older woman laughed. "Right, and I suppose you came all the way here because you felt bad for me?"

"No, I—"

"You seem like the type of person who loves sticking her nose in other people's business."

"Hey!" Harry stepped forward, a frown overtook his face. "Do not talk to my wife like that."

Y/N tugged at his arm as she told him to calm down, yet Maureen seemed very chill and indifferent to his attitude. Ignoring him, she went on with a sly smile, "I'm not going to the wedding. It's not like she wants me there."

"She does."

"Well, did she tell you that?"

"No, but—" Y/N bit her lip, but before she could continue, Maureen waved her off.

"My ex-husband would be there and the last thing I want to see is that son of a bitch's face."

"That's the problem," Harry finally spoke as he was too upset to remain silent. "Neither of you would come because you're both afraid of running into each other, but it shouldn't be about you. It's your daughter's big day and you should be there for her."

"The last time we met, she called me an embarrassment. I'm doing her a favor by not coming to her wedding."

"I know Layla," Y/N said, clenching her fists. "She doesn't express her feelings the way people expect her to. She says no when the answer is yes, and maybe when the answer is no. She's very unpredictable, but it's not so hard to read her mind once you've known her well enough."

Maureen scoffed as she looked down and pinched her forehead. "I don't need you strangers to lecture me on Layla. I'm her mother."

"Then start acting like one."

From Maureen's and Harry's reaction, Y/N knew neither of the two had expected someone with her personality to say something like that. But she didn't care. Mumbling, "have a nice day", she took Harry's hand and pulled him back to the lift.

Once the door had shut and the couple had left, Maureen was still standing at her front door.

Layla's father lived in a mansion that looked like a cutout from Architects Today magazine. It was one of those dream houses in which Y/N had imagined her, Harry and their two children living a few years from then, when they could afford that expensive life. They weren't poor now, but this place made them feel like they were.

Unlike Layla's mother, her father — Daniel Scott, or Dan, as he had asked them to call him, had invited the couple into his living room for tea as soon as he recognized Harry. Layla had taken Harry with her to lunch with her dad and his other family once, because Niall had been busy that day. However, Harry had hardly interacted with the man to say that he personally knew him.

"Believe me or not, Layla has never invited a friend over. Well, there was Niall, but they're getting married so it doesn't really count." Daniel laughed, shaking his head.

Y/N was slightly confused because this man wasn't at all how she'd imagined he would be. He was handsome for his age and he was also polite and calm, yet the image Layla had constructed in her head was this angry and selfish man who didn't give two shits about his family. But if there was one thing Y/N had learned from a thousand mistakes in the past, it would be not to draw a conclusion about someone you had just met five minutes ago.

"About the wedding," Y/N began as she put her teacup down on the coffee table, placing her hands back on her knees. "It's tonight, and we hope you can come to congratulate her."

"Layla has already told me about the wedding," said Dan. "Unfortunately, I cannot make it. I'm a very busy man and—"

"Sir, I know what it's like to be drowning in work and deadlines and thinking you don't have enough time for anything else," Harry cut him off. "But it all comes down to priorities. Don't you think it's worth it to put everything aside and celebrate this important day with your daughter? It's just one night."

As Dan pressed his lips into a smile and rubbed his palms together, Harry was hoping that the man would reconsider and change his mind. However, Dan's ringtone tore down the silence and he excused himself to go answer the phone.

"Do you think he'll say yes?" Y/N asked once he'd left the room.

"Hope so." Her husband lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. "I mean, he seems much easier to talk to than his ex-wife so—"

"Sorry, kids. I gotta go now. Duty calls," Dan told them as he walked in with the same big smile which had begun to freak Y/N out.

"But Layla's wedding—"

"I can just come to her next one," Dan said, causing both Harry and Y/N to drop their jaws, but their reactions seemed to mean nothing to him as he added, "I know my daughter, okay?"

No, you don't, Y/N thought to herself and rubbed Harry's shoulder as she spotted him giving Dan a black look.

"My butler will show you the way out. It's nice talking to the two of you."

Dan turned away as the butler showed up and asked them to come with him. Harry quickly followed the tiny man, but Y/N stayed when a young girl, who she assumed was about sixteen or seventeen, rushed down the stairs.

"Daddy, daddy!" she called Dan. "Mum is coming back from Milan tonight. Do you think we can go shopping together? I desperately need new clothes for school."

Dan pulled his daughter into a tight hug as he pressed his lips to her forehead and said, "of course, sweetheart. Anything for my little princess."

"Y/N!" Harry's voice got his wife's attention. When she looked back at him, she could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew what she was thinking of. She walked up to him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they followed the butler out of there. "It's okay," Harry whispered. "Layla would be better off without them."

"So this is what it feels like to be invited to the royal wedding."

Y/N gave her husband a nudge and waved hello to another wedding guest she recognized. Layla spent too much time with her and Harry that sometimes she forgot how popular her best friend was. After all, she was Layla Scott. She was born to receive attention, just not always the kind she would value. So the more she got, the more she craved. Y/N supposed some guests here today hadn't come because they cared about Layla, they'd come because it was her wedding. It was every high school in movies. People voted the most popular girl for Prom Queen, not because they liked her, but because she was cool. That was how Layla had remained 'the popular girl' ever since she could walk, but it wasn't until she got to college that she learned what it was like to have real friends.

It was thirty minutes before the ceremony and Y/N was asked to go check on Layla. Nobody knew what had happened, but the bride had locked herself in her dressing room and everyone that was part of the wedding planning was freaking out.

"Layla?" Y/N knocked on the door as the other bridesmaids gathered around her. "Layla, is everything okay? It's Y/N."

"Come in. Just you."

With a turning stomach, Y/N asked one girl to go outside just in case something happened and they needed someone to reassure the guests. Then, she turned the doorknob and entered the room.

Layla was sitting in her wedding dress with her phone in her hands. Though it wasn't from personal experience, Y/N had heard about some brides having a mental breakdown right before their wedding. It was understandable. The thought of starting a new life with a new identity could be overwhelming. So when Layla looked up at Y/N with her glassy eyes, Y/N assumed her best friend was going through the same thing.

"My father posted a photo of him at dinner with his other family," Layla said, proving her wrong. "He's with them on my wedding day."

Not knowing how to respond, Y/N chose silence as she stood against the door with her hands behind her back, and started second-guessing what her best friend might say next.

"That asshole..." Layla scoffed as she shook her head. "I hate him. I fucking hate him! I-I don't know why I even expected that he would show up tonight. I knew he wouldn't. So why am I still disappointed? Like...God, I...Do you know that he didn't come to my high school graduation because he was in Bali with that whore that's now my stepmother?"

Y/N silently shook her head.

Layla's parents hadn't come to her university graduation either. Niall had told Y/N and Harry not to ask Layla why, because it would only upset her. But now Y/N knew even when nobody brought up her family issues, it would upset her anyway. Her terrible parents would always matter to her despite how many times and how much she'd said she hated them.

"And my mum is always drunk." Layla released a harsh sigh. "It'd be a miracle if she could get her ass off the couch let alone attend my graduation or wedding."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Y/N said as she stepped forward and pulled a chair to sit down in front of the bride, who lifted her face as Y/N squeezed her hands. "This is your big day. So if your parents would rather be anywhere else but here, then it's their loss. You don't need them. I mean—Your entire family is already here. You have Harry, Lou, Liam, and Trix, and you have me. And Niall is probably freaking out right now because he cannot wait to start this new life with you."

Layla scoffed and rolled her eyes. "And Harry's probably trying to help but he's only making it worse. Those idiots."

"True." Y/N nodded as they both giggled. "And...this will be Asteria's first wedding experience. Wanna feel her?"

Layla nodded and let Y/N guide her hand to her baby bump. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, her eyes lit up. "She's moving!"

"Yup, I think she's very excited." Y/N beamed. "Who needs your shitty parents when you have a big family who will support you no matter what, right?"

This time, when Layla teared up, Y/N knew she was happy. She squeezed Y/N into a hug before pulling away and her expression hardened.

"Let's do this," she said. "Let's go out there and lower everyone's self-esteem by being the hottest people in the room."

"And she's back!" Y/N chuckled as she helped Layla get up and straighten her dress. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Be right there!" Layla shouted to the person, who replied immediately.

"Layla, it's me. Your mother."

The bride crossed her arms and laughed slightly, but then she saw the look on her best friend's face, and that was how she knew it was real. Without saying a word, she bolted to the door. The second between the moment she turned the doorknob and pulled the door open, fear was rising inside of her as she didn't want to make a fool out of herself by falling for one of her evil cousins' pranks. But she wasn't wrong. It really was her mother.

Y/N tilted her head to see the woman, yet she still couldn't believe in her own eyes. Maureen looked far different from how she had earlier that day. She looked put together, with her makeup and hair done, a classy dark blue dress that fit her so well and a pair of high heels. Now she looked like the woman Layla would one day become.

As Layla was still speechless, Maureen gasped as she eyed her daughter from head to toes. "Wow, you look—"

"What are you doing here?" Layla cut her off fast. The question took her by surprise, but she managed to keep her composure.

"I'm here to walk my daughter down the aisle," she said. "Well, only if she allows me to..."

Y/N was fidgeting with her own hands, her lips pressed tightly together. It was so awkward to be present while those two were having a mother-daughter moment, but she knew it'd be more awkward if she asked to leave. Besides, she needed to make sure Maureen wouldn't say something that would break Layla's heart.

Not getting a response, the mother continued, "I know I haven't always been there for you, and after talking to your friend here—"

Layla shot Y/N a questioning look, and the bridesmaid could only answer with an apologetic smile.

"—I realized that when I got a chance to be a better person, a better mother, then I shouldn't let it go to waste. That's why I'm here. I hope it's not too late to be there for you."

Y/N had a feeling if Layla remained silent, Maureen would burst into tears. Fortunately, she never got to find out if it was true. When her mother finished, Layla took a deep breath and began right away, "I was six when I came home and found you unconscious on the kitchen floor." Her voice trembled even when her head was held high. "I thought you were dead. I was so scared. They took you to the hospital and...later on, I heard from grandma that you'd drank too much that you'd passed out. I was six years old, mum. Who the fuck let their six-year-old daughter see them like that?"

Maureen opened her mouth to speak but Layla didn't let her. "When I was sixteen, I won a beauty pageant. I wanted to feel proud of myself because I'd accomplished something even if it was small, but that night I ended up crying all the way home because the other girls' parents were there, and mine were not."

Y/N's eyes fell to the floor as she sighed into her palm. Her chest felt stiff and heavy, but she believed it wasn't half as bad as how Maureen must have felt then.

Layla swallowed hard and wetted her lip as she carried on, "I'm going to turn twenty-six soon. So...here's your chance to be a part of my happiness for once. Now fix your makeup. You're not walking me down the aisle with smudged mascara."

Maureen's eyes gleamed as she heard those words. She pulled her daughter into an unexpected hug, and even though Layla's arms stayed glued to her sides, Y/N could tell she was also very happy.

The bridesmaid let go of a sigh of relief as she clasped her hands together and pressed them to her chest. But her elation faded as soon as the bride turned back to look at her. She assumed she was in trouble for going to see Maureen behind Layla's back. However, what she got was a "thank you" and the brightest beam she'd ever seen on her best friend.

"I love you," Maureen told her daughter. "I rarely said it. But I do. And from now on, I will do my best to prove it."

"Well, I also don't hate you." Layla's response caused Y/N to giggle and Maureen to widen her eyes. "Sorry." The bride chuckled. "Baby steps."

It was a few minutes before the ceremony. The guests were already in their seats as the exuberant chatter and laughter contributed to the ecstatic atmosphere. Y/N was waiting in her position on the other side of the closed double doors as she would be the first bridesmaid to make an entrance. Knowing she was nervous, Harry stayed with her as they waited for the ceremony to begin. He held her close as if he hadn't seen her in years and mumbled, "I missed you" into her hair.

"I was gone for a minute." She scoffed.

"The longest minute ever!" he exclaimed.

Clicking her tongue, Y/N pulled back to adjust his tie. Harry cocked his head to kiss her mouth, but she dodged his kiss and warned him not to smudge her red lipstick...again.

"So I was with Layla." She tugged at his collar and smoothed down the jacket of his suit. "She was having a mini-breakdown because she found out her dad was with his other family tonight. I comforted her, and guess what?"

"What?"

"Her mother showed up."

Harry stilled. "Like...her actual mother?"

The look on his face cracked her up as she nodded fast. "Yes. But don't worry, she was sober."

"What about her father?" Harry asked, and she only gave him a shrug. "Oh well, who needs a father like that, anyway? I'm glad she's okay now."

"She seemed very happy. Good for her," Y/N said, biting her lip and batting her lashes at him. "Not everyone is as lucky as baby Ria. She's got such an amazing father."

Smirking, Harry brought his hands up to stroke Y/N's bottom lip with his thumb. "Don't look at me like that, or I'll have to take you somewhere else and make another baby."

"Is that how you dirty talk now that you're a dad?" She raised a brow, hands on his chest.

"Does it work?" He licked his lip. "Does daddy make you wet already?" As he lowered his head to kiss her cheek, he remembered something and jerked away. "Holy shit, Ria can hear us!"

The genuine terrified look he'd got had his wife cackling. Y/N had to reassure him, "she doesn't understand us."

"I think she also heard me fuck you last night. What if it traumatizes her?"

"Harry—"

"What if I accidentally poke her with my dick?! Oh my God!"

"Baby." Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, frustrated, but at the same time, amused by how it'd taken him a whole day later to start worrying. "For the hundredth time, your dick isn't that long."

"Heyyyyyyyy! It's long."

"What's long?"

Gemma's voice caused the couple to jump and Harry blurted out, "the line in Starbucks this morning!"

Y/N was in hysterics when Gemma squinted her eyes at him. "Okay, weirdo. Get back in there. We're about to start," she said and jerked her head toward the door, making him groan like a little boy who was forced to go to bed early.

The couple exchanged a few more cheek and forehead kisses and then Harry snuck back into the room to join the other groomsmen at the altar. The guests began to quiet down as a romantic piece of orchestral music began to play, and the double door opened in front of Y/N. Shoulders back, chin up, she strutted down the aisle, holding the bouquet close to her chest as all eyes fell on her. But as always, Harry was all she could see.

The floor was covered in rose petals, and the music made it feel like she was floating to heaven. Somewhere in the crowded room, someone (possibly Trix) exclaimed, "aww, Harry's crying!" And she saw her husband put on a bashful smile as blood rushed right up to his face. He sucked in a shaky breath but his eyes remained on her. Y/N didn't know it was possible to fall in love with the same person over and over again, but this man had proven her wrong.

Once all the bridesmaid had stood in a line at the altar, mirroring the groomsmen on the opposite side, the music built up to the epic climax as Layla entered the room with her mother by her side. She was the center of attention like she always was, but she had never seemed more unbothered by her surroundings than she was now. She held eye contact with Niall, who had to wipe his own tears with the back of his hand.

The wedding ceremony was formal and flawless, since Layla had made sure they'd rehearsed it at least ten times before that day. But Niall, being Niall, had to include some silly jokes in his vows and high-fived Harry when the audience roared with laughter and his bride gave him a warning glare.

Time seemed to slow down for the exchange of rings, and when the preacher pronounced Niall and Layla husband and wife, Y/N was looking at Harry. Somewhere inside her head, she could hear the voice of the narrator saying, "and they lived happily ever after" like an epic ending of a Disney movie. She felt like her heart might just combust with pure delight.

"I love you so much," Harry mouthed to her when the glitter fell on top of them like snow and the crowd roared to congratulate the newlyweds.

"I love you more," she mouthed back to him, knowing he could hear those words loud and clear in the back of his mind.

Y/N and Harry were asked to give a speech at the wedding reception. It wasn't a problem for an extrovert like Harry, but Y/N felt like she'd spent her whole life practicing public speaking just for this day. She was terrible at it. If Harry hadn't been there to hold her hand, maybe she would've stuttered or bitten her tongue off, or even worse — burst into tears in the middle of the speech and never got to finish it at all. She thought she'd done a good job.

She'd cracked some jokes about Layla's obsession with wedding flowers and cutlery and made the wedding guests laugh. But she also saw some guests wipe off their tears when she talked about how much Layla meant to her.

"You're my best friend, my older and younger sister, my overprotective mum, and my grumpy aunt, all in one. You're one of the best things that have happened to me, and I hope you'll always be happy like this. But if there are times that you're not, I'll always be there for you."

As the crowd cheered and raised their glasses and Layla stood up to applaud her best friend, Niall turned to Harry, eyebrows furrowed. "You said like two sentences about me!"

"Technically, Y/N also said two sentences about Layla. Hers were just longer than mine," Harry argued, and Niall almost pushed him off his chair for that answer.

The wedding reception started out as a lovely and formal dinner, but afterward, it turned into a frat party with everyone being drunk and dancing like mad. Niall was carrying Layla around on his shoulders while Louis and Liam were dancing on tabletops. Gemma was taking shots with Jack and Olivia, who was there as his plus one. Ben and Nam were snogging in the corner of the room. Meanwhile, Trix had made a new friend named Alice, and the girl was so wasted she kept following Harry around and telling him how much she liked his new movie. It was a scene of madness, the good kind. But eventually, everyone settled down for a slow dance.

Harry and Y/N were sitting at their table, holding hands, when Layla and Niall came up to them and suggested that they switched partners for this song.

"Okay, but be careful! Do not spin or lift my wife up!" Harry warned his best friend, who gave him a thumb up as he led Y/N to the middle of the room and left Harry with Layla.

Turning back to the bride, Harry said, "shall we?" And Layla rolled her eyes and placed her hands on top of his.

Dancing wasn't Harry's strong suit and he knew Layla was good at it, so he kept staring at his feet to make sure he wouldn't step on hers.

"You're not performing surgery, you dumbass," she said, snickering at how he was panting.

"Shut up, I'm trying not to step on your feet!"

"God, how did Y/N fall for you?"

"I have a similar question for Niall."

The bride leered at him as she snorted and shook her head. She seemed a lot chiller than usual, probably because it was her wedding, but Harry thought it was weird to not have her insult him for everything that came out of his mouth.

"Look," Layla trailed off after clearing her throat. "Thank you for what you guys did for me."

"You mean coming to see your parents? That was Y/N's idea, I just—"

"She told me that you told Dan to choose me over his job," Layla cut him off. "It wasn't his choice in the end, but thank you for trying to change his mind."

Harry shook his head as he chuckled. "No problem. I know what it's like to have a terrible dad so..."

"Devlin loves you, he's just bad at showing it. I suppose Dan is also good at being a dad, just...just not mine."

Though Layla had said it with a tone of humor, she was never good at hiding how she was feeling inside, just like Harry. To say she had no common at all with him would be incorrect, because they were more alike than anyone could imagine. That was probably the reason they'd stayed friends for so long, not only because of Niall and Y/N.

"You'll go back to mistreating me after tonight, right?" he asked, making her laugh.

"Yeah, you're making it hard for me not to that right now," she joked as her nose stuck up. "And since everything will go back to normal tomorrow. Listen carefully because I won't repeat this."

"Okay."

"Okay, so...I know that I'm a bit mean to you sometimes—"

"Sometimes?"

"Fine! Very often." She rolled her eyes and Harry's dimples appeared as he told her to continue.

"But to me, you're like...like a...brother...a big brother, and um..." Layla stuttered like a baby just learning to talk. Every word came out with such difficulty that Harry had to press his lips together so he wouldn't laugh and have her yell at him. She tapped her fingers on his shoulders now that they had stopped swaying to the music. Eye contact suddenly became so hard for someone as confident as her.

"And...um...yeah...I-I love you."

"What did you say?"

"You're like a—"

"No, the second part." Harry looked dead serious as he turned his ear to her face and pointed at it. "I have hearing issues, you gotta speak louder—Ouch!"

Layla hit him again, harder this time as he jumped away and put his palms up. "I thought you said you loved me!"

"Tough love is still love," she told him with a massive grin. But he knew she wasn't lying. Tough love was still love, at least to Layla.

I swear to God, when I come home I'm going to hold you so close I swear to God, when I come home I'll never let go

Another song came on, and Layla returned to Niall so Y/N could dance with her husband for the first time that night.

Like a river, I flow To the ocean, I know You pull me close, guiding me home

"It's been a while since we last danced like this," she said, placing her hands on his neck as he pulled her in by the hips.

"Don't worry, ma'am. Your partner is a professional."

The smug look on his face earned him her gorgeous smile as she scrunched up her nose. "You can't beat my previous partner. Niall was really good. Layla made him take a two-week dance class for the wedding."

"Psst, who needs a dance class when you can just learn from your own experience? Now shut up and dance with me!"

The song reference cracked her up and so she pulled his face down to kiss him again and again, until they both got lost in their world and all the other people faded away.

I swear to God, I can see Four kids and no sleep We'll have one on each knee, you and me

And when they've grown up You're still the girl in the club When I held your hair up, 'cause you had too much

"What?" Harry stopped singing as he pulled back and arched an eyebrow at his wife. She lifted her head from his chest, giggling at him. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," she whispered. "I just love to hear you sing."

"I sing to you and Ria every night though. Thought you were tired of my voice already."

"No, I love your voice." She pulled his face down so their foreheads touched. "The first time you sang to me, we were also slow dancing at a wedding, remember?"

"How could I forget? You remind me all the time." Harry chuckled and pecked her lips. "That was also the first time I'd sung to someone other than myself."

"Glad to be that someone."

"Glad that you were that someone," he said and tapped her slightly on the nose.

And I need you to know that we're fallin' so fast We're fallin' like the stars, fallin' in love And I'm not scared to say those words with you, I'm safe We're fallin' like the stars, we're fallin' in love

The music took over their conversation for what seemed like forever. Harry raked his fingers through his hair, looking at the other couples dancing around them before turning back to Y/N and said, "I'm a bit drunk and this might sound cheesy as fuck, but..." He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. "I'm so thankful that of all the people on this planet, I got to fall in love with you."

"Aww. So am I, baby. So am I."

When Y/N leaned in, he cocked his head to the side, pouting and not letting her kiss him because he hadn't finished expressing his love.

"I keep thinking about all the years I've spent with you," he said. "From the day I first met you, to the night I confessed my feelings for you, to the first time we made love, to our wedding, and to this moment right now. It seems like it was yesterday that I was rambling on with Niall about this annoying girl who was about to be my flatmate, and now she's six-month pregnant with my baby." He breathed out a quiet laugh. "Maybe next year or a few years from now, when I look back at this moment tonight, we'll be expecting our second one. Maybe Jasper?"

"You just knocked me up six months ago, Harry!"

"Shhh! I'm just drawing up a plan in my head! Don't ruin it!" He covered her mouth with one hand to stop her from interrupting him. She was shaking with muffled laughter as he went on, "and maybe Asteria could be a bridesmaid at Gemma's wedding. Get it? Because Gemma would be so oldddddd."

Y/N gasped. "You're lucky she didn't hear you say that!"

"I trust you not to tell her. That's why we're married. It's all about trust." Smirking, he continued, "then one day, we'll be at our daughter's wedding or maybe our son's. And I'll still step on your feet as we dance like this and embarrass them with our terrible moves. Then many years later, at our grandchildren's weddings, I'll be dancing with you again, but I might need a stick, or maybe we'll be in our wheelchairs wheeling around to one of the songs that are too loud for us but the kids think it's cool."

"What if we're the cool grandparents who keep up with trends and actually enjoy those songs?"

"Don't expect too much from me, I hate most of the music today and I live in today."

Y/N dissolved in laughter as she pressed a kiss to his chin and circled her arms around his waist, her eyes closed and chin on his shoulder. Now she couldn't stop imagining them being eighty years old and slow dancing in their bedroom to one of the old songs playing on the radio.

"I love you," she told him for at least the twentieth time that night, "don't you ever forget that, baby. You're my whole world. "

"And you are mine." He lowered his head to kiss her neck and whispered those three words to her again and again.

Oh, I'm in love Oh, I'm in love Oh, I'm in love

#flatmate!harry

237 notes · View notes

unknownauthor · 5 years ago

Text

Captivated

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x OC!Reader

Warnings: kidnapping, murder, violence, smut, toxic relationships, abuse, abusive childhood, trauma

Summary: Billy Hargrove is a killer, hell bent on revenge. Layla Gonzalez is a college student with a dark and cloudy past. When Layla is taken hostage and forced to work with Billy in order to survive, will they be able to get passed their differences, and see the people behind the scars? A stalker seeks to finish something Layla started a long time ago. When they come head to head, will Billy protect her? Or will he add another victim to his list?

A/N: I’ve tried this AU before and it never felt quite right. I’m hoping with Billy I may be able to pull it off because I love the idea and the potential of a good thriller. Please, please leave comments. Let me know what you think. Is this something I should continue? Also, all the younger kids in stranger things are 16 and 17 for the purpose of this fic. Thank you

Part 2

Something crawled over my skin as i left my last class for the night. It wasn’t physical, but i could feel it. Trepidation, fear, something was coming for me and I wouldn’t be able to stop it.

I usually never walked home from class, but my car was in the shop getting fixed and I only lived a couple blocks away. I decided to hoof it. Why not? It was summer, the sun was only just setting and nothing bad ever seemed to happen in my little town of Hawkins, Indiana.

Cars buzz past me, I barely pay attention, focused instead on the quiet evening I had planned at home. A night of romance novels and chocolate ice cream, maybe the Goonies if I was feeling up to it. I didn’t have any friends, with my condition, being the way it was, I couldn’t. If I got them, they would eventually give up, having only come to my aid to try and help bring me out of myself. They would give up before they even got to know me.

I didn’t notice the car trailing me. Not until it was right up beside me. The driver honked, startling me. I turned in time to see the driver roll the passenger side window down. He leaned over and flashed a friendly smile my way.

“Need a ride?” he asks me. I shake my head.

“No. I’m only a few blocks down.” he shrugs his shoulders.

“I can drop you off, it’s not a problem.” he smiles again. It’s disarming. He doesn’t look like a bad guy either. He has golden brown curls, cut in the style of a mullet, thick black eye brows and light blue eyes, framed in long dark lashes. He wore a faded denim jacket, dark red flannel, half buttoned and a silver ring on is middle finger. His baby faced looks made me feel safe. He couldn’t be that much older than me. I smile shyly and reach for the door handle, ignoring the voice in the back of my mind, screaming at me not to.

“Okay.” he grins, sitting back as I open the door and hop into his blue camaro. It’s nice inside, clean. I’m relieved to see it’s clean, germs give me panic attacks. “Thank you.” I say as I slam the door.

“Not a problem.” he says, pulling away from the curb. We drive in silence for a bit, i watch the street signs, waiting for my road to come up.

“You can turn here.” he ignores me. I turn my head to look at him. His eyes have narrowed, fists white knuckles on the steering wheel. Dread instantly pools in my belly. “You missed my turn.” I squeak quietly. He smirks, turning to meet my gaze.

“Now you knew better than to get into a car with a stranger.” I open my mouth in a silent scream as he child safety locks my door and speeds down the road. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Where are you taking me?” I ask him, my voice is quiet. I feel numb. This cannot be happening. This isn’t real.

“I need your help.” he says. “You help me and once I’m in the clear I’ll let you go.”

“What do you need my help with?” he pulls onto the bypass, taking us out of Hawkins. My nails dig into the fabric of my jeans, my anxiety beginning to rise within me. Before he can answer we see flashing lights ahead. Some sort of police checkpoint. I see him sit up out of the corner of my eye, jaw clenching, he glares at me.

“Keep your mouth shut.” he reaches over me as he slows down. He sticks his hand in the glove box, pulling a black item out of it. It only takes me a moment to realize what it is.

He makes sure the safety is clicked on as he comes to a stop. He sets the gun in his lap and puts on a pair of sunglasses. I look around, no one else is out here but us. It’s late, nobody comes into town past 9 most nights. I’m so fucked.

A short officer with a brown mustache walks over, the man? Boy? Christ, I know nothing about this dude, rolls down his window. “Evening Officer.” the cop leans down, peering into the car.

“Evening. Sorry to stop you folks, but we’re looking for a man who might be on the run.” my skin begins to crawl again, fear making its way up my body to wrap around my throat like a snake. I stay silent, watching his hand beneath the seat.

“Oh?” is all he says to the officer. The officer smiles kindly at me and turns his attention back to the man who had taken me.

“Yeah….Billy Hargrove. Say he might be responsible for some murders and a gas station robbery out this way. We’ve got all the ways out of town blocked, so we can catch him.” the man nods, taking in the officer’s words.

“I’m sure you’re all doing a fine job at that.” I can hear the sarcasm dripping from his words. I press my back into the door behind me.

“Thank you sir….Now if you don’t mind, can you remove the glasses?” the man sighs, he pushes them further up his nose, I see him reaching down to grab the gun.

“Ya know…..Ah fuck it.” His arm shoots out, he grips my wrist tightly, pulling me over his lap. He brings the gun to the back of my head, I feel the cool metal press against my scalp. The cop steps back, pulling his own weapon.

“Drop it Hargrove.” I feel the gun press into me harder.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” he sounds calm, almost serene as he stares down the officer. “You’re gonna let me through and pretend you never saw me. Or I’m going to shoot her and then I’m going to shoot you and be on my way. Either way I’m out of here. But it’s your choice.” There’s a few heavy moments of silence, my heart pounds in my ears, his arm over my back and his hand pressed against my scalp with that gun. Silent tears fall down my cheeks.

After what feels like forever he pushes me off, not roughly, but not with any gentle sincerity either. I watch him put the gun back beneath his seat. He salutes the officer before peeling past the check point and speeding away.

“Might want to buckle up. I like to drive fast.” I reach over and grab the seat belt, fastening it around myself.

The Camaro is loud. It sends rumbles of vibration all the way down to my bones. Like a massage after the chaos back at the check point.. I looked around, trying to find a way out. That was when i noticed, there was no handle on the inside of the passenger door. I was stuck so I stayed quiet. Out of fear. The man drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, listening to a song on the radio. The silence wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t comfortable either. "Are you going to kill me?" I asked softly, so low he might not even hear me. He stopped drumming and turned to look at me for the first time since he’d taken me.

"Wasn't planning on it." He replied. “I just needed a scapegoat once I finished my job. Taking you was the only way I would have gotten out of there alive.”

“W-why do you say that?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. He cocked his eyebrow, finally taking off his glasses, his eyes were a deep brown, almost black.

“You...You don’t watch tv do you ?” I shook my head. The news gave me anxiety. The only time I left my dorm was for class or work. Necessities. I kept to myself. He chuckled and shook his head as he turned on his turn signal.

“Why do you ask?” I asked a bit louder. I watched his adam’s apple bob and his eyes scan the road, searching for the right answer.

“I uh, I’m in a business most don’t agree with.” he said.

I decided to push a little further, “what do you do?”

“I’m...I’ve killed people.” he said it solemnly. Like he wasn’t proud of it, but he had to do it. I feel the panic begin to rise again. He cleared his throat. “What’s your name?” he asked, changing the subject.

“M-my…..it’s Layla.” I said, wishing I sounded braver than she felt. “Layla Gonzalez.”

“And’ I’m Billy Hargrove.” he responded, “You know, you’re the first person I’ve met in a long time who didn’t know who I am.” he sighed, clicking his tongue, “You’re a weird girl.”

“Says the man who just admitted to murder being his occupation.” he laughed, shaking his head.

��Yeah, maybe we’re both just weird.” He paused and then said carefully, "I won’t hurt you."the tone of his voice is softer, calmer, and surprisingly soothing "Unless you make me." He added with emphasize on ‘make’.

“H-How many…” I trailed off, unable to finish my question. It was strange, I could never talk and be this open with just anybody. I usually just kept quiet, and stayed in my lane. I wasn’t the type of person to make waves. Not since before…..

“How many people have I killed?” Billy finished for me. I nodded, glad to have been pulled back from the darkness of my thoughts. He bit his lip, trying to think of the right answer, “If I had to count….possibly sixty.” my mouth fell open in shock.

“Oh my….” I instinctively moved further from him. I focused on my shoes, on the scuffs and the threads in the laces, anything to keep me from going crazy. We sat in silence for a long while. Billy began to twitch as it stretched, it was slight, barely noticeable. Except I saw it. "So where are you taking me?" I asked awkwardly, eyes darting to his before looking ahead again.

“I’m not sure yet.” he said, keeping his eyes on the road. “I gotta make a pit stop to some colleagues of mine, might just drop you off at a station of something. Do you got any family?”

“We aren’t close.” I say quietly. My parents barely spoke to me anymore….Ever since Lexa….They disowned me in everything but name. “No one will miss me. I’m sure.” I could feel his eyes on me, I turned my head to look out the window, tears beginning to fall down my cheeks. “I’ve….I’ve never left Hawkins before.” I say, trying to lighten my own mood and look at my situation differently. If I allowed myself to fall down the rabbit hole of dread, who knew what he would do. He admitted to being a murderer. He probably wouldn’t have a problem killing me.

“Yeah?” he asks, picking up on my change in subject. “Then think of it as a mini vacation. How old are you?”

“Nineteen.” I say, still not looking at him.

“Why don’t you get some sleep. We got a bit of a drive ahead of us. I’ll wake you when we get to a place to eat or something.” his words are softer, kinder. It sends my head spinning, this cold and calculating killer, suddenly wants me to get some sleep?

He must’ve seen my text books on the floor boards, because before i could doze off he asked me.

“You in school?”

“College.” I murmured. “I wanted to be a nurse.”

“Huh.” I hear him say surprised. “Isn’t that somethin’.” He didn’t say anything else. And i feel into a fitful sleep, a dream filled with roars and screams of an engine and the face of a monster.

Third Person P.O.V

He shut the door behind himself. The dorm room was empty and he couldn’t feel her presence anymore. She was just...gone. He walked over to Layla’s desk, flipping open her sketchbook, scattering papers, he became manic, flipping over her mattress, emptying her cabinets.

Where the fuck was she? He missed her and it was time for her to come home.

Part 2?

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove one shot #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove smut #dacre montgomery fanfiction #dacre x reader #dacre montgomery #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfictjon #stranger things one shot #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

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onceafuckup · 5 years ago

Text

Heartbreak

+My brain woke long before the rest of me did. I could hear the muffled voices and quiet chattering as if they were trying their damndest not to disturb me but at the same time wanting to. I couldn’t force my eyes to open or get any of my limbs to move, or maybe it was just that I didn’t want to. What did it matter what I did now, anyway? Blay was gone and it was my fault. If I had just stayed, gone with him to that damn event…Everything felt as though I was covered in cement, including my eyelids. Everything was so fucking heavy. Though the weight on my limbs didn’t feel nearly as significant as the heaviness in my chest. I was fairly certain my heart had been replaced by stone, that was the only explanation for that feeling. It hurt. I never realized emptiness could hurt, but it does. It made every attack I’d been though feel like child’s play. Those moments of sleep, ok drunken unconsciousness, had been the only time it hadn’t hurt. Maybe if I kept my eyes closed long enough, I’d simply fade away along with everything else. Just hold my breath and let it all go.

“Get up, Qhuinn. I know you’re awake.”

I grunted and rolled to my side as the shitkicker connected with my ribs, but still didn’t open my eyes. More so now because the room took on that topsy turvy spinning sensation that reminded me that a bottle or two of Herra isn’t always the best idea. Though the numbness it provided was welcome. So fucking welcome. There was another kick from above and a grunt from me, then a softer voice spoke, “Give him a minute, won’t you Tohr? It might be a few decades since you lost Wellsie, but surely you remember the pain. Why don’t you all just leave and let us handle this?” There was grumbling, several voices of dissent spoke up, which surprised me as I hadn’t realized there were so many in the damn room to begin with. Finally Wrath ordered everyone but the females to leave and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Beth was like a freaking dog with a bone when she had her mind set on something and instinct told me I was that something. The door closed and wisps of fabric sounded in the room before brushing over my outstretched arm as one by one, the females took a seat on the floor around me. Hands brushed over my forehead and down my back, “Ok, Qhuinn, the guys are gone. We brought you some food, just soup and sandwiches that Fritz made for you. There’s some water and a few soft drinks as well. Sorry, but the Herra’s on hold until we talk. Layla’s on her way, she wants to be there when you tell the kids.” I let out a low noise and rolled to my side, bringing my arms over my head. Maybe if I ignored them… “We’re not going anywhere Q, so get that thought out of your head.” Fuck. Do not flip off the Queen…do not tell off the queen. If it wasn’t for the fuckton of respect I had for Beth, I would have done those things. Not even fear of Wrath ripping my balls off for it would have stopped me. It was ONLY because she saved my damn life when I was barely past my transition after I stood up for JM. Since that moment, I’d lay down my life for her…even when I never did think it was worth too much. I knew it was her hand on my forehead brushing my hair back. It wasn’t the weight of the ring on her hand, it was just her presence. A sob snuck out before I could choke it down and I heard a few of the other females take a stuttered inhale, as if they too were trying to hold it together. My chest heaved with each breath as Beth continued that soft, motherly touch. “Wrath has taken care of notifying Blay’s parents, they are on their way back from their vacation so they can be here for the ceremony. I am sure you do not wish to discuss it now, but you don’t want to wait too long, Blay deserves….” I shook my head, my words coming out on choked breaths+ Blay …should be me…can’t…I can’t…It hurts.

+The air in the room felt like it was being sucked out. The females started crowding me as I rolled up into a sitting position, my head down and damn near in my lap. I wanted to shrink myself to nothing, to disappear. Mary placed her hand on my shoulder, “We’ll take care of whatever you need, Qhuinn. You’re not alone, Lyric and Rhampage need you to hold it together though.” Every mention of the kids sent images through my head of Blay and how he cared for them over the years. How he was the stable one to help with homework since I was too fucking stupid, the one to discipline them when I was too much of a pushover with them, the one who made sure the doggen was happy so the kids were happy..what the fuck did I do? Yeah, I was there, trying to give them what I never had, but Blay was the rock in our family’s foundation. He kept me from losing my shit over Layla and Xcor, kept me from losing them completely. Another sob racked my entire body so hard my back popped under the pressure. Blay deserved better and my kids sure as fuck deserved better. Once a fuck up, always a fuck up. Bella spoke up next, telling me that Zsadist and Rhage were going to the scene at sundown to see if they could determine what happened, that they were doing everything they could to make things easier. I shook my head, actually my whole body, in argument. I rolled and tried to push to my feet. Stumbling once I did, both because of the room spinning and the females around me. They all stared at me like I had three heads as I weaved my way through Wrath’s office. I couldn’t breath. Couldn’t think. It hurt but I still tried to use my useless damn voice+ No…I should. I gotta…

+I tripped and then focused on the door, moving as fast as my booze soaked body would carry me. I clutched at the handle, once, twice, three times before my fingers finally curled around it. “Qhuinn, where are you going?” I shook my head as the door opened, my voice only moderately steadier+ Beth..gotta. I need to see.

+They called behind me to try to get me to stop, but nothing on this earth would manage that. I started down the stairs and saw the wall of Brothers standing there. All had their attention trained on me, likely because they heard the females yelling behind me. Vishous raised a brow, staring at me with those bright ass eyes of his, “Going somewhere?” It was a question but the words were laced in a threat. A threat I didn’t give a flying fuck about either. I tried to demat, but my emotions were too all over the place. I tried to calm myself, but it wasn’t going to work. Instead, I continued down the stairs like a fucking train going off the rails. The Brothers squared off, blocking the end of the grand staircase. I thought of Blay. My chest clenched, my fangs extended, my breath snarled. I saw fists being clenched. This was going to be ugly and I was fucking ready for it.+ I have nothing to lose, move or be ready to take my ass down.

+Vishous laughed, it wasn’t a pleasant sound. It told me he was ready for the fight. The shutters rose for the night. Everything stopped. That was what I had been waiting for. My feet hit the steps harder on my descent. It was like hitting a fucking wall of cement, but I didn’t let that stop me. Fists and elbows flew, though not as many as I expected. In fact, it was only two Brothers fighting me, Vishous and Tohr. Against one, I might have stood a chance, but between the two of them, I was getting my ass handed to me quite soundly. Not that it stopped me though. I threw fist after fist until I had nothing left. They both wrapped their arms around me, supporting me when my body gave out. I didn’t even notice the wetness on my face or that I was sobbing deep ragged sobs until I was struggling to draw a breath. They didn’t let me go though. They also didn’t say anything. No meaningless words or platitudes. They didn’t feed me some bullshit about it all being okay or how I’d get through it. It was like they knew…fuck, they probably did. I don’t know how long we stood there before I finally managed to compose myself. Before I felt like my legs wouldn’t give out beneath me. My face hurt like a bitch and I knew I was sporting some wicked bruises, but I felt something other than the utter emptiness, even if it was just pain. After a few more silent moments, V slapped my shoulder, hard, and Tohr stayed close, his voice only loud enough for the three of us, “It sucks. It hurts more than people will know. You do what you need to but be smart about it. Don’t do to him what I nearly did to Wellsie.” That helped but it didn’t. He still managed a happy ever after, and V watched Jane die, but his damn mother brought her back. I couldn’t even bargain with the SV because the bitch disappeared and she wouldn’t give two shits about me. I wasn’t even sure Lass had the power to do anything, if he’d even be willing. Would he be…V was shaking his head, “No, it’s not a possibility, Qhuinn, for that I am sorry.” I slumped, I couldn’t even get pissed again because I was so drained and honestly I expected it. I nodded slowly and shrugged off the males.+ Can I go now? I need to see…I have to go to where it happened.

+The room tensed again, air so thick a dagger couldn’t cut through it. “Why don’t you let…” I shook my head, teeth clenching+ I need this. Please.

+That final word shaking as I forced it out. Wrath stepped forward and even though he was blinder than shit, I felt like he was staring into my soul as he stood in front of me. I swore the room held their collective breaths as we waited for him to speak. Not that I would listen if he denied me this. All I wanted was a chance to do the right thing. My fingers twitched against my thighs and that pit dropped heavily in my stomach. I really didn’t want to have to fight the King, but I would. The clock echoed, ticking loudly in the grand foyer. Footsteps came down the staircase, soft and light. Wrath lifted his head. A silent conversation took place and then Wrath nodded slowly. “I expect you back here in…let’s say four hours. That should give you plenty of time out and still allow you to be back before his parents arrive. If you’re not back, we’re all coming for you and it will not be good for you. Understood?” I nodded and swallowed around the lump in my throat and as I started to walk towards the door, his hand clenched my shoulder, “Don’t be a dumbass, Qhuinn. That’s all I ask.” I choked out a chuckle+ Being a dumbass is what I do best, my Lord.

+He squeezed my shoulder hard, but no other words were spoken. No one tried to stop me again as I made my way to the front door and out of the manse. I needed to focus, to calm my breath so I started walking down the expansive driveway towards the road. My thoughts were tinged with happy moments but often overshadowed by the last conversation we had had. I winced with each verbal barb that echoed in my brain and I continued to walk. And walk. I passed through the mhis and hit the highway and walked. I couldn’t get my body calm enough yet, no matter how hard I tried. Instead, I continued my path down memory lane with each step I took. I didn’t know how much time had passed before I paused. I could smell him, smell his blood. I blinked and forced myself to move my feet. My legs were heavy, each feeling as though it were encased in concrete or maybe it was quicksand pulling me down. Twisted metal lay before me, a piece of the bumper sheered off, a section of the headlight covering stuck into the ground, the mangled bark of the tree he’d ended up in. Cold wetness seeped through my leathers, and I looked down, shocked to find the ground so close, my knees encased in mud and muck. How that happened, no clue. I slumped forward, my forehead resting against the tree and sifted my fingers through the dirt. I could smell him here. It was so strong. The coppery scent of his blood was heavy, but also that damn cologne he wore, his smokes, the alcohol. It was all there. Along with the smell of burnt rubber and the fuel and oil the car spilled. It surrounded me, enveloped me, suffocated me. A bellow of rage ripped through the night as I unleashed a slew of curses and pent up frustration. I cursed Blay, cursed the SV, cursed Lassiter, and whatever other gods or demons may be listening. My throat was raw, my face was wet, my fingers …I looked down and they were bloody and raw from where they were pounding and scratching into the tree. I hated him for leaving me. Hate him for not taking me with, hated him because we were supposed to have a lifetime ahead of us. I loved him too, like I would never love another, but right now, I hated him. I sat there for who knows how long. Eventually, I stopped cussing him out and turned to talking, apologizing, reminiscing. I knew he wasn’t there, but with his scent surrounding me, I could almost feel him there. That brush of wind against my skin reminding me of his touch when we were in bed. I could almost hear his voice telling to grow the fuck up. To pull my head out of my ass, to keep going. Fuck, it hurt so bad. Steps sounded behind me, but I didn’t turn to look. I didn’t want anyone intruding but something told me it was a friendly presence. I rubbed my bloody hand over the tree, offering another silent apology to Blay, making promises I could only hope to keep before I finally turned to look over my shoulder. It was no surprise to see JM standing there, his hand held out to me. Zsadist and Rhage were there too, but standing back a respectable distance. I remembered they were there to look at the scene so I was glad they didn’t come closer yet. I didn’t need the accident dissected before me. It was time to go. Time to find my children and tell them what happened. Time to make sure my Hellen got the send off he deserved. I pushed to my feet, accepted the silent hug from my oldest remaining friend and set off to return to the manse.+

#qhuinnsl #onceafuckup roleplay

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son-of-the-omega-blog · 5 years ago

Text

#SL #PlayTime

#TriggerWarning #Abuse #Violence #Torture

Written by @Son_OfThe_Omega and @ToTheGrahve

Mentions @OffKeyDeviant @Qhuinn_BDBFM @Dehstruction

*~*~*~*~*

Grahve: Every breath hurt. Granted, that probably had something to do with the knife that’d punctured my lung like a fucking balloon. My blood was a flavor I was tired of tasting, but every rattled breath only pushed more of it up my throat. I wanted to hurl, but the gag in place made me fight the reflex. The bag over my head wasn’t much better.

I could still see the look in his eyes. The sheer, unparalleled delight as he’d buried that blade to the hilt, savoring my shock and horror. My fists clenched in the chains holding them above my head, the soft rattle the only sound other than my labored breathing. Fury licked through me, and only half of it was toward the male who’d trapped me. The other half was all for me.

How could I have been so stupid… I wasn’t sure what was worse; the fact I’d become so emotionally compromised and entangled, or the fact it had led me to make one poor decision after another. Until I was here, in what had to be a Lesser hideout, if the smell was anything to go by, bag or no bag. Yet the male who’d lured me, flirted with me, had definitely ‘not’ been one of the Omega’s minions. No matter how emotionally blind I was, there was no masking that rot.

Which meant…

I closed my eyes beneath the bag and tried not to sag in the chains, my mind turning over the only possible conclusion and feeling my dread curdle into nausea.

Lash.

The son of the Omega. The one who hounded the Brotherhood and sought to destroy them. The one who’d helped corrupt Blaylock. The one who’d kidnapped and tortured an angel.

No wonder he’d looked so pleased with himself as I’d choked and struggled. I’d never seen his face before. Never known his scent. A trainee so oblivious to who he was had wandered into his web. And now here I was. Helpless. And furious.

Lash: [Watching the male hang as each breath cost him valuable energy, I gave myself a pat on the back. Ever since my little encounter with Queen Beth, the Brotherhood has been totally ghost on the streets of Caldwell. And it left me quite bored. When I'd walked into the club tonight, I hardly expected to come out with such a prize. Granted the male wasn't a Brother, but still, a trainee was better than offing civilians all night as a draw.

The look of shock on Grahve’s face was worth the effort as the knife incapacitated him, but it didn’t stop the male from trying to get his own pound of flesh. Even unarmed, the male had made a formidable opponent based on pure spirit alone. The few hits he managed to connect with would have been enough to loosen the teeth of any civilian, but I didn't have time to waste playing the games of posturing young.

The struggle in the alley lasted less than a minute before I had tucked the half-conscious male into a stolen car, courtesy of some halfwit human who’d left the vehicle not only unlocked but with the keys tucked into the visor.

The longer than necessary ride looped around the south of Caldwell, dumping us at a dead end road turned narrow deer path that led deep into the woods. Steel chain link fencing surrounded the new compound wasn't just to keep the wildlife from setting off the motion sensors and cameras; any errant nosy human who happened to get too curious for their own health would have found themselves on the business end of a shovel, six down. Not that it would be hard to disappear a body out here, but time was a commodity I didn't want to extend if I didn't have to.

The few Lessers I had around the place served as my watchdogs, the beyond-pale fuckers that had been inducted many decades ago were the last of my Prime squads, well seasoned and hungry for Brotherhood blood. New recruits were being added weekly, courtesy of the Omega, the last of the more experienced Lessers in charge of their training.

Leaving the knife in the male's side during transport was a game; he wouldn't have been able to dematerialize regardless, but it was fun to watch him squirm and pant for breath each time I reached over and gave the blade a twist. I upped the ante and added the element of darkness via a black hood over his head. One more sense of his compromised. Even more so as I strung him up in chains and lifted him until he was barely balanced on the balls of his feet. I was letting gravity do the rest of the heavy work on Grahve's muscles. The pull would only serve to weaken him further, and unlike the angel, sunlight wasn't going to miraculously bring him back to near full health. No, the male would need a female's blood for that.]

Tell me. How's mine cousin, Qhuinn. Still besotted with the fair Chosen Layla? Or has he turned to finding new bed partners?

[Circling the deadweight with a grim smirk, I reached out and jabbed the male's wounded side with a hard fist.]

Grahve: Holy. Fucking. Hell.

The pain that erupted up my side threatened to send me night night, right before it caused a spasm to tear apart my lungs. I coughed, spluttered, the gag and the hood catching a mouthful of blood. My body struggled to cope as I pulled back against the chains keeping me up, away from where the hit had come from. But with the hood, I was helpless to predict Lash’s next hit. Not that I thought I’d be conscious after a second hit to my ruined lung...

By the time the agony had faded to a dull roaring throb, his question finally registered. I’d never felt my fangs grate against a gag before, the sensation uncomfortable even as a weak growl rumbled in my chest. Which I also regret. Immediately.

I tasted more blood and forced myself to calm down. But the idea that Lash was still gunning for Qhuinn made my blood boil. Regardless of how I felt, of what had happened between him, me, Crhis… all of it, I’d die before I let this miserable prick hurt them. And hey, whaddaya know, if he kept sticking me like a pin cushion and hitting the flesh around it, that death was all but guaranteed in a very short timeline.

I could feel his amusement, his utter delight at my helplessness, and if anything it fueled my rage, my defiance, until I was straightening and clenching my fists in their manacles. My chest hurt like a mofo, but it was all I could do until the gag came out and I could tell him a hearty ‘fuck you’.

Lash: [So, /that/ little query got a reaction from the trainee. Qhuinn must have been tapping more than one ass if this male was so reactive to mere questions. Did this hanging piece of meat know my oversexed cousin had impregnated a Chosen, I wondered; he had to have known. Layla paraded that swollen belly around like the trophy she was. She must have certainly had the young by now. Or dropped into the Fade on her birthing bed. Pacing around the dangling and gagged bit, I had to give him a small props for ‘hanging’ in there.]

Oh, wait. [Leaning in close to the male's ear, my voice was a harsh just-above-whisper.] Let me see if I'm reading this sitch right. Qhuinn gave the fair Chosen more bed time than you, so you turned to bedding another… [Inhaling deep only confirmed the stronger scent of another, a male.] … male.

[Just a guess, even with the scent of the trainee Qhuinn had been making eyes at all over Grahve, it wasn't too much of a stretch because I knew Qhuinn to be a possessive male that liked to take things too far.]

And mine cousin didn't appreciate the turn of your.. [Grabbing the back of the hood and jerking it off the male's head, the cold anger blowing off him in waves, hurt evident in his eyes as he twisted, bloodied and bruised before me.] .. attention to another. So you decided to drink away your broken heart. [Reaching out and cupping the male's face in a firm grip then patting his cheek hard, I slid fingers back to loosen the gag.]

Grahve: Layla. Hearing a Chosen’s name on Lash’s filthy lips made my skin crawl, but I wasn’t about to correct him on the little scenario he’d invented in his head. Especially if it kept my partner off his radar. Instead I narrowed my eyes at him as the hood was torn away.

It didn’t seem fair that someone so evil had a face like that. I’d never wanted to break something beautiful so badly in all my life. The memory of his lips on mine, of the way he pressed down my body and made me ‘feel’...

I spat out a wad of blood and spit the second the gag was gone, and whatever self preservation instincts I had left kept me from spitting it ‘on’ him. Though the temptation was definitely fucking there.

“Congratu-fucking-lations. You have it all figured out. Go you,” I sneered, wishing I’d had a lot more to drink. Maybe then it would numb the pain that was sure to follow. “I’d pin a gold star on your collar but I’m a little tied up right now. So how bout you fuck right off and do it yourself? There’s a good lad.”

In my head I ran down my list of options. Insulting Lash for as long as possible definitely made the list, and pretty close to the top I might add. Holding out for a rescue, though, was pretty far /down/. The nausea in my gut curdled into a dread realisation as I recalled the Lockdown, the fact that no one was supposed to be out on rotation at the moment to even notice me not showing up, and that after everything with Crhis and Qhuinn? No one was going to be looking for me…

A spark lit up my nerves. The realisation was so bright I struggled to keep it off my face, out of my eyes, so Lash didn’t see the kindling of hope.

Adrian.

The angel would surely notice I was gone… right? I’d made a promise to stay put and broken it. Sure, he might look for me back at the manse, but if I didn’t turn up he’d raise the alarm. The Brothers… they’d at least know the scent of Lash. Realise, maybe, what had happened. And even if they didn’t find me before I died… it soothed something jagged in me to know they’d at least be looking. That someone, somewhere, cared enough to notice I was gone.

“Considering how fancy you like your clothes,” I tried again, looking around, “I thought maybe you’d have a nicer place. Dad not covering your costs?”

Lash: [Pacing behind the male, my hand snapped out to grip the male's throat and tip his head back, his breath staining from the tension as I spoke.]

Oh I got more than a gold star. [My tongue slid up the side of his neck tasting anger, anguish, and a fainter hint of fear. Now that he'd figured out who /I/ was, most of the arrogance had been knocked out of his sails. Hence the hint of fear.]

You were more than willing to give it to me, weren't you… you cannot deny that scent of fucking you were giving off. The male you'd been fucking must have been quite the tasy little treat. [A slow, hard bite to his ear, fangs drawing that much more blood, coupled with a rut of my hips against his ass for emphasis and I stepped back around to face the trainee, brushing my hands off.] And yet you went to the club looking for more ways to drown yourself.

[I hadn't missed his initial outburst made, I barely contained the giddy feeling inside, and grinned fiendishly at the way his body tensed and grew cold at the mention of the Chosen and his sappy broken heart. I knew I'd hit a low sore spot that I could use to against him.

Ignoring his baiting comments about my attire -mental note to swap out to leathers once I'd returned to the compound, no sense in ruining an Armani- I delivered a hard fist to his fine nose, the burst of fresh coppery iron wafting across the breeze as it dripped in rivulets down his chin.]

See? We're going to have lots of fun.

Grahve: The feel of his tongue against my neck earned a disgusted shudder, my stomach revolting even as I swallowed down a fresh wave of bile. I barely felt it as his fangs pierced my ear, blood scenting the air. His hips bucking against mine brought to mind all the ways we might’ve tangled in the sheets, when I’d been willing, and the reality was so much worse. What would the Brothers say? I’d been about to fuck the enemy… Sweet Scribe… and all because I’d let myself fall for and give a shit about the males in that manse.

What had I become?

Trying to shake off the darkness that flooded every molecule of my miserable being, I adopted a sneer, forcing myself to remember the times I’d been completely alone in the world and survived. I could be that guy again.

“Next time I’ll just look for ways to actually drown. Probably a better outcome than ‘this’ one,” I point out coolly.

My last smart ass comment. Right before he broke my nose.

My head snapped back. I tasted blood. As I blinked through the haze and the pain, I sagged forward and spat a fresh mouthful onto the floor. Well, mostly the floor. Pretty sure a nice bit of it landed on his pants. And shoes. N’awwww…

“No wonder you weren’t in the training program long…” I panted and heaved in a breath with a broken, bloody smile, “what with a weak ass punch like that…”

Lash: Think you're funny? [The mangy fuck had the audacity to chuck a mouthful of blood at me. Growling low, I spun the male around and drove my fingers into the knife wound, pushing deep until his body swung off the ground and something popped and the male cried out.

Movement at the doorway barely registered enough to draw my attention away and only served to piss me off even more. The growl that tore from my throat spoke only one word to the brainless fuck that had the balls, -figuratively-, to interrupt me. Death.

Liquid energy rolled down my arm, pooling in my bloodied hand as I turned to decimate the motherfucker that dared interrupt my playtime. The lesser stood his ground but the fear dripped off him like a sliced carotid. In his hands shook a female body, a black canvas hood bunched around her head and shoulders, doing nothing to staunch her whimpers.]

You're fucking lucky, you know that. [The immediate impact of the sudden additional present hit me, a smirk kicking up the corner of my mouth as I glanced at the strung up trainee. Oh yes, this was going to work so much faster this way. She wasn't a Chosen, but female blood was female blood.]

String her up. [Pointing with just a look, the Lesser nodded without a word and did as told. The female's struggled, nearly freeing herself when her body suddenly slumped, loose-limbed, the lesser having knocked her cold with a fist to the temple. A hoarse growl and muffled rattle of chains fueled my smirk.]

Oh wait. [I glanced at the male dangling by his wrists and then at the female and back to the hanging meat.] My bad. Where are my manners. Are you thirsty?

Grahve: I didn’t know pain like this existed without unconsciousness following. As Lash buried his fingers in my flesh my whole body jerked and twisted to escape it. I wasn’t even aware I was doing it, every animal instinct in me screaming to get away when something gave out. Probably a lung.

The room swam as blessed darkness crept into the edge of my vision. But it didn’t linger. As Lash withdrew, my mind returned. It was just in time to catch the whimpers of a woman - a female. My spine stiffened, my fingers curling into fists in their chains.

Of course. The lock down. With no Brothers on the street, Lash had free reign on the species. Nausea coiled in my gut as I watched him tie her up, and when she resisted, the demon struck. She crumpled as a snarl bubbled up my throat, wound be damned.

“You don’t seriously think I’d take blood from some helpless female?” I growled, glaring, furious at my helplessness. How was I supposed to help her when I couldn’t even help myself right now? It didn’t matter if her blood would heal… me…

I closed my eyes and dropped my head.

It doesn’t matter if I don’t want to… He’ll force feed me if it means he gets to keep playing. The idea is revolting.

“…it doesn’t matter if I say no, does it?” I mutter blackly, disgust laced through every word.

Lash: [Ignoring the trainee’s disgust, though I don’t know why, the female wasn’t bad on the eyes except for the fat lip and swollen eye and she smelled fucking delicious, I indicated to the Lesser he needed to make sure she was easily within reach without having to loosen her bonds. There was little chance of her finding escape, but it was better to overly cautious. Past experiences were still biting my ass in the form of the Omega each time we had those sire-son talks.]

Absolutely, I think that you’ll do it willingly even.

[Stalking over to the female and gripping her chin, tugging it up enough to confirm she was still indeed alive, I let the supple slumping of her unconsciousness hang from her place near the trainee and stepped back to admire my haul without giving anything away. This was going to change my plans only slightly, in the manner that I’d be able to keep the trainee longer than I first anticipated. If my Lessers could obtain another female within a few days, unharmed enough to be of use, I’d be able to send the Brotherhood quite the set of messages. Piece by fucking piece.]

And if you want the female to live beyond the next rising sun, I suggest you feed when you’re told to.

Grahve: I wanted to curse, to snarl my disbelief; as if he wasn’t going to kill her - fuck - kill us both, but what other option did I have? If I refused… he killed her now. If I took her vein, maybe I got enough strength to get us out of this. Maybe I buy us both time.

Biting back the slew of responses, all of which would probably go down about as well as a lead balloon, I went with the smart option. Even as my insides shrivelled in repulsion and shame.

“Fine.”

The word tasted nasty as I dropped my gaze to the blood spattered floor. My blood. It dribbled down my side as I heaved in a breath through the agony of a burst lung. And my broken nose.

“But let’s not kid ourselves…” The words slipped out even as a small part of my brain screamed to STFU. I met his gaze again. “How long are you gonna do this before you get tired of me? I’m just a toy for you to play with till I break, right? Then let’s get it over with. Just do it.”

Lash: [Strolling back to face the male, I gave a minute nod to the Lesser that had positioned himself behind the trainee. The pale fucker began cutting away the male’s clothes, starting with his shirt.]

Looks like it hurts.

[Grinning, I eyed the jagged edges of the bright red and purple wound as he was stripped down. And thought of the angel Lassiter. How his scars were MY mark on his body. Scars I created, a signature of sorts. What kind of signature could I put on the trainee? Mentally waving it off, I knew it would come to me when the time was right.

The male’s body was definitely impressive, well muscled and lean, as a fighter’s body should be. Once he’d been stripped of all his clothing, the bloodied pile on the floor.. wait, was that.. Tipping my head a bit, my grin pulled the smirk routine. He was blushing! Face flushed, aside from the fact of how pale he was starting to look from blood loss, there was no mistaking the traineed was embarrassed at being so exposed.]

Oh come now. [Chuckling darkly, I hardly ficked a finger toward the hanging female and the Lesser that had bared the male’s body of annoying restrictions now worked the same effortless theme on the female.]

I’m sure she’s seen a naked male before, though maybe not one of your particularly appealing form. She’ll be honored to offer you her vein. If she wakes in time.

Grahve: Being left bare before the Brotherhood’s greatest enemy brought whatever blood I had left to my face. I tried not to shift in the restraints and give the game away, but as his eyes raked over me like I was a meal, he smirked and knew. Fuck. Like this could get worse…

My lip lifted in a snarl that bared my fangs (probably the last thing of me that had actually been covered) as the Lesser set about stripping the female.

“Leave her alone. Whatever you wanna do to her, do to me! She’s a /civilian/, right? Not a fighter. Not a warrior. It’s beneath you to hurt her,” I bit out, somehow averting my eyes as the female body was bared, every curve and slender muscle. “Or are you so low I should be shocked you don’t slither and crawl?”

Hey, provoking him probably wasn’t my best idea, but if it drew even a lick of attention away from the female, I’d do it again. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go; me helpless and watching some poor female be strung up and humiliated.

Lash: Who do you think I practice on? [I spoke without taking my eyes off the male, the illborne wickedness boiling under the gossamer surface of my form. Even without being consciously aware of what fueled the process, John Mathew had been my first directive. I had paid, and was still paying, for fucking that one up; the Omega never forgave for incompetance no matter the reason.

So I put into practice what I gleaned from each call ‘home’ to my sire. While it was never a fun visit, I did take away new skills to cultivate for my own use. It took too much energy to reanimate my own Lessers in the beginning, so I used whoever they, or I, managed to capture. Like the Chosen Layla. Now /she/ was one that never should have escaped. The Lesser that gave her the opportunity still decorated the wooded copse I’d blasted his carcass across. Or the more frequent random males and females of the species. Human rats were overlooked for the obvious reasons that they would never survive the capture. Let alone a single day/night under my hand.

Realigning my thoughts with the here and now, I waved a dismissal to the pale fuck who was eyeing the naked female with too much drool dripping down his chin at the malicious hunger brewing in his mind. With a sneering smirk, the Lesser skulked back to the corner of the room to await further orders. Just because they were impotent, didn’t mean that the desire to cut and kill died off as well.

The trainee’s compassion for the female negated his own need for survival. But this wouldn’t do. He needed to make the choice to fight to live. Even at the expense of another should the choice come to it, which I’d make sure it would. Many, many times.

Stalking back to the work bench along the far wall I picked up a long flat blade and returned to stand before the female, keeping the male at the edge of my vision. The sharp steel glinting under the lights as I held it up, admiring the razor honed edge before pressing it to the female’s throat deep enough to draw a nice, slow but steady rivulet of blood to run down her neck between her ample breasts.]

Do you think you can stop it before she bleeds out? [I mused to myself, turning to the feral-eyed fury that was the male strung up in chains and licked the blade clean.]

Grahve: As the blade cut into her flesh I felt two things. One, that I hated myself for wanting her blood, and two, that I now knew such hatred that I would gladly lose almost every limb if it meant the last one could plunge a knife into that bastard’s heart.

Her blood perfumed the air the longer it ran, from her throat, all the way down to her naval and down her leg to her toes. My body hungered for it in my injured state, and with sheer force of will alone I made myself focus on Lash. He watched me, watched every emotion that played out on my face, and I found myself wishing I was more like Vishous, or Zsadist, two Brothers who knew how to hide every thought, feeling or desire. Why couldn’t they have taught a fucking class on /that/?

“What, with my tongue?” I glanced at the red river with a flash of panic and wanted to punch something. Pulling at my own restraints - and boy, didn’t that remind me of the whole gauntlet my body had already run - I leant in closer to the female, breathing in her scent. “She won’t die. It’s not enough…”

I somehow managed to regret the words the instant they were out of my mouth. Because even a statement of fact, or a general denial, would undoubtedly seem like a challenge to the demon spawn. The fresh burst of anxiety, the fear that he would suddenly pull that knife back up and whip it across her throat until I was sprayed in blood, opened my mouth.

“Forget it, you’re right. Let me stop the bleeding!” I pulled at my restraints until I could put my lips to the wound, and even as a mouthful, or two, slid down my throat, I lapped my tongue over the wound, trying to seal it.

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore Lash, ignore my body and the need that was burning inside it, even as the blood started to slow. My fangs scraped against her skin and my stomach snarled, a growl bubbling up my throat. Then I was trying to pullback, my tongue running over the wound.

Lash: Come on, you can reach her. Come on. [The encouragement was sincere enough, I /did/ want to see if he could make it on his own; the pulley system which they’d both been rigged to was movable to any place in the building with the right adjustments. The trainee didn’t disappoint. But I had doubts, I really did. For all of five seconds. And I’d been ready to follow through and gut the female from chin to belly if the male hadn’t stepped up when he did.

I shuffled around the two in a macabre dance, watching the male’s throat work the blood down as quickly as he could, his efforts trying to stop the flow in spite of the need, his body’s need, to keep drinking. I could have played this out far longer than was formally necessary, but I did so enjoy a little drama after a long dry spell. This was merely play time, a warm up session for when the Royal family came to visit. I absolutely could /not/ disappoint King Wrath upon his arrival.

As Grahve’s throat slowed, the working of his jaw indicating he was finished, though I knew he would need more than a few little sips to heal properly, I reached over and patted him on the shoulder for effort.]

Such a valiant effort. Bravo my friend. Bra-vo. See? It wasn’t as difficult as you made it seem. [I paced around the pair once, twice, the female slowly beginning to come to with mumbled whimpers and moans.] Are you sure you’ve had enough?

Grahve: Feeling Lash’s hand on my skin in a fashion that wasn’t torturous was, in itself, a kind of torture. My skin crawled as I shifted away from him, not wanting the contact, the camaraderie sensation. Crhis was my partner. The Brothers my allies. I didn’t want Lash’s praise.

I ignored his question to stare at the female, leaning in slightly.

“Hey, are you okay? My name’s Grahve. Can you hear me?”

I shot Lash a filthy look as the female mumbled and groaned, barely coherent as she struggled in her restraints and shifted in the puddle of her blood on the floor. She seemed to notice that - notice that she was naked straight after. A shudder went through her, then a kind of sob. My chest ached for her; that she’d been dragged into this shithole.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, I’m here with you,” I murmured, wishing her blood wasn’t still on my lips, helping seal the hole in my lung. “Can you tell me your name?”

Lash: Looks like she’s not that into you, Grahve. [Doing a back n’ forth between the two, I wrapped an arm around both waists, ignoring the fact that the female was starting to really wake up now. The weak tugging on the chains was indicative of the minor blood loss and likely the blow to her head and the trainee’s encouraging tone.]

But don’t worry, I’ll send my boys out to find you something a little more fresh and easier on the eyes. [With that promise, silent shock painted the male’s face, his half-strangled cry caught in his throat as the hot red scent of iron dripped down his face, his chest and thighs. The female’s struggles were more erratic now, twitching really.]

Grahve: Red. It had a smell. I was covered in it. The taste of her was all over me. Her body writhed in front of me. Her throat was a gaping hole. Blood spurted, oozed, trickled and spilled.

“Shit…”

It was the only word that came out. She looked at me, the light in her eyes dying. Betrayal flickered there. Why was she dying. Why was I alive. Why was Lash still holding me…

Bile rose in my throat as I tried to wrench away. From him. From her. I’d failed her. As she gasped her last breath I knew I’d remember the sound until I died.

Hopefully it’d be soon…

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lalast0ne · 4 years ago

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The bad penny

Layla

*Sin City was definitely living up to its name. Our first night in Vegas had been one I’d never forget .. what I could remember of it. After leaving the “Art Gallery” which I’ve decided was not a legit gallery at all, we hit the shops then made our way back to the hotel room to get ready. With the key safely deposited in the safe, we headed out for dinner. Tao was amazing, the service, the atmosphere and the food. After dinner we paid well over the odds for a 5 minute ride in a gondola thru the Venetian then made our way to the hotel casino. Judging by the pounding of my head this morning we were in the casino a looooong time. The last thing I properly remember is Wilder tugging me to the high roller section .. after that it becomes hazy. I look towards the bathroom where the sound of the shower running and singing can be heard which makes me smile as I collapse back into the pillows groaning. The fact he’s in a seemingly good mood must mean he beat the house. Thank God. I look around the enormous room, my eyes landing on the safe. The safe that houses the most expensive key known to man and a flurry of questions rush thru my mind. We didn’t discuss it last night, I refused to taint our first night with talk of business (which is exactly what that was) and Wilder wasn’t forthcoming with the information, so I still remained clueless. I just couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing ...*

Wilder

*Vegas was growing on me. I had won big last night. At the tables and with my wife. I knew her mind was working in over drive but sometimes it was best to leave her guessing. All would be revealed in time. I towel dry, got dressed and stepped from the bathroom to find her lazy ass still in bed* Little Ball of Fire, time to get ready for the day. We have Vegas shit to do. I know you have things you would like to see that I ruined yesterday. *Smirking, I check the time.* You have 15 minutes or the party bus is leaving without you. No aquarium though. That’s not Vegas. *I pour a cup of coffee and wait as you scramble from the bed.* Make that 14 minutes.

Layla

*I see the way you look at me and know exactly what you’re waiting for my body isn’t ready to move at a fast pace yet .. I don’t even think it’s ready to move. I roll from the bed, my shoulders dropped slightly and my walk slow as I head to the bathroom* You’re so mean to me .. always putting me on a timer. How are you not feeling like shit this morning? I’m sure you drank just as much as, if not more than, me. *I step into the shower and wince as the water hits me, the cold feels like a thousand needles pricking my skin until it warms up and I relax a little. Even with no intention of rushing, I shower as quickly as possible then emerge feeling a little fresher.* I swear I’m never drinking again .. *I mumble as I pass by your to the closet and roll my eyes when you tap the face of your watch. I don’t waste anytime messing around. I slip into comfortable clothes and a pair of sneakers, tying my still wet hair back out of my face and stand in front of you and shudder as I say what I’m thinking.* Please don’t tell me today’s the day we’re going up the Stratosphere...

Wilder

*I finish the last of my coffee and eye you up and down.* Is that what you are wearing today? You should have switched to ginger ale after the first drink like I did. *I avoid the death glare you are giving me and hold the door open.* Was the Stratosphere not on your list? I’m catering to all things Layla today so smile Little Ball of Fire. You don’t always get me so accommodating so I recommend you take advantage.

Layla

*My eyes narrow at your treachery. If I’d known you’d switched to ginger ale I’d have made my cocktails virgin. I cover my mouth at the thought* What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? *I look down at my t-shirt, shorts and sneakers then back to you* Comfort is the aim of the game today, husband. And while the Stratosphere is on my list, I don’t think the people on the rides, or the good people of Vegas standing below, want to see the contents of my stomach. *I move to where you sit and position myself between your legs, my fingers teasing thru your hair* We can make our way to old Vegas this morning. Go to Fremont Street and check out the Mob museum?

Wilder

I don’t care to see a jail cell if you throw up on people and we need to fight. *I laugh and lift you up, taking long strides to leave our room.* First lets get some food in you to soak up all the alcohol and then find some mobs. Maybe if you are lucky, we can buy that thing you could not stop staring at last night. *The elevator takes us down and I keep a tight grip on your hand.* Don’t take any of those cards people try to hand you. We are not hitting up those places here.

Layla

*I wrap my legs around your waist and bury my face in your neck, humming softly as you walk us to the elevator. My feet hit the floor when the doors open and I pout at the loss of contact until your hand is on my hip and your pulling me close* I don’t think they’re for places to go .. I think they’re for girls *Chuckles* to come to your room .. so don’t you be taking any of those cards Mr *I reach down and pinch your cheek, laughing softly as the doors open* I hear Serendipity do the most amazing pancakes .. let’s head there .. because now I honestly feel like I could eat a horse.

Wilder

I think they cater to all baby girl. No discrimination. *I growl against your ear and head in the direction of pancakes, my hand firmly gripping your ass. Vegas might be growing on me but I will never understand the lengths one city goes through to steal your money and make you lose your entire life. I can do that in a heartbeat back home and feel no guilt. You will be as rich going in the ground as you were above. Life really is simple.* We should take in that volcano show tonight. Feel the heat from that fire. *Smirks as we stop at the restaurant and wait to be seated.*

Layla

If you want heat .. I can got you hot under the collar, baby *I smirk across to you as we stand and wait (im)patiently to be seated. I grab my stomach as it grumbles and thank the Lord, 10 minutes later, when we’re finally shown to a table for two on the terrace. Before the waitress can even ask if we know what we like, we’re reeling off our order and handing back the menus she’s just given us. I cross my arms and lean forward slightly, grinning at you as I admire the sight of Caesar’s Palace behind you* So what are your thoughts of Vegas so far, husband? Are you enjoying it?

Wilder

*My eyes cut in every direction since our chairs are out in the open on the terrace and I can’t see who is approaching from behind, landing back on yours. I reach up and flick your nose playfully.* It’s loud, dirty, has this smell you can’t wash off, everything is way too big. I think I would need need to see the seedy side before I can give you my honest opinion. It might be ok. *I lean back as the waitress brings our drinks, nodding my hand in thanks.* What is your opinion of all this sin?

Layla

*I laugh when you give me your opinion, not at all surprised, then smile at the waitress when she places our drinks on the table. I load my coffee wit way too much sugar and take a satisfying sip, smiling with I feel the caffeine taking immediate effect* This world of sin ... I love it. I couldn’t live here but for a trip, I’d happily return a couple of times a year. Whether Vegas would let us return .. well that remains to be seen *i smirk at you over the top of my cup*

Wilder

*My head falls back, booming laughter filling the terrace.* Mrs. Steele, I don’t know why you assume I will get us kicked out this city or even state. I have been on my best behavior. *I lower my voice.* I have not felt the need to pull my knife even once. I would say that is a record but the day is still young. I make no promises.

Layla

*I laugh and shake my head at your declaration* we’ve not been here 48 hours yet, there’s plenty of time for us to get thrown out. *I lean in and whisper back to you* Please try to keep your knife in your boot *I sit back when the waitress approaches with our food and thank her as she places the hugest plate of pancakes down in front of me, then look back to you* for a little longer, at least.

Wilder

You have my promise Fire. No knife will come out of my boot while we are here. *Stabs a huge bite of pancakes and shoves it in my mouth, not promising about the knife in the back of my pants.* I’m being accommodating remember. *My eye catches a profile that seems familiar as I continue to eat.*

Layla

So accommodating that you’ll even agree to come to the aquarium *I smirk taking a mouthful of pancake, nodding my head* Such a good husband. *My smile falters when I lose you for a moment, your eyes widening slightly when you clearly see something. I turn my head in the same direction and search the crowd to see what you’ve spotted and then I do.* What the hell ... *My head spins back and my mouth goes dry, the pancake suddenly feeling like I’m chewing cardboard* Is that ..?

Wilder

Carlos. All the way out here. *My fork drops to my plate and I push back from my chair. I stand to my full height and make my way across to the terrace and his table. He gives me his eat shit grin as I stare him down. My jaw clenched and I crack my knuckles to form a fist.* You are always one step behind Carlos. I already have what you are looking for. You can scurry back into your hole with your tail between your legs.

Layla

*I follow behind you and grab your hand, aware of eyes on us and not just Carlos’s* Wilder ... maybe we should take this somewhere a little less ..

“Well, what a pleasant surprise this is” He waves his hand away dismissively as I try to pull you away “Now now Mrs. Steele, there’s no need for that. We’re all friends here, Won’t you both join me? We can discuss ... business.” He smirks as he sips his coffee.

*I scowl, and it’s not a playful one, at the man who has just ruined this entire trip.* No, thank you. We have our own table that we should be getting back to. *I tug on your hand again a little more forcefully* Wilder ..

Wilder

You are a fucking asshole. *My words not loud enough for anyone else to hear.* I’ve played nice but not anymore. I will run you from this town and mine. *I take Layla’s hand and we head back to our table, sitting down. I slice through my pancake like I would the skin on his body and shovel another bite in my mouth. Trying to ignore the annoyance of his appearance.* Let’s forget about him Layla.

Layla

*i don’t look back when you take my hand and pull me away. Your words make me smile though when I take my seat and watch you* I don’t think I’m the one who needs to forget about him *I sit forward and lower my voice* but why the he’ll is he here? Now? The same time we’re here. That’s not a coincidence is it. *Its not a question, it’s a statement.*

Wilder

It’s Carlos. He is a thorn in my side. *I snag a piece of bacon from your plate, a smirk growing across my face.* Plus I got what he came here for. The key.....

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magixfatedfics · 4 years ago

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Chapter 4: A dimming choice

I do not own Winx club this fic is for fun

CHAPTER 4

Flashback

Flora could be kneeling to the ground with her hand on her back,

"M-My wings.. t-they're gone"

End of flashback.

Still kneeling down, Faraganda looked at the girl in shock "Flora?"

"They took my wings.. " Flora said upset as she leaned her head down.

Helia was quick to move

"Flora....”

Brandon though was the worst of the all, in the group , there he sat on the bed scowling at the fact that his sun fairy was trapped and there was nothing he could do about it at the moment.

He sat there clenching his fists together, and then shaking his head the male spoke up "Well what are we waiting for , the more we sit here and talk the more the girls are in danger. "

It was then that Sky placed a hand on the males shoulder as he shook his head, " Hey dude I want Bloom back here just as you want Stella back, Brandon but we need to figure how were going to find them."

"Sky?" With a sigh , Brandon nodded his head in agreement,

Flora looked down for the moment and stood up "Alright miss F I'm ready.. tell me how do we find Ogron and his gang and save my friends?"

MEANWHILE

Stella looked at the wings and back up irradiated "You monsters you took our wings?"

"A fairy cant fly if there wings are clipped now can they?" Ogron spoke up with a sinister chuckle. "Of course that can be fixed , only a small prince of telling me where the second sun of Solaria is of course. "

Stella looked down and shook her head "I will never tell you where it is.. not even in a million years ." Stella moved her hands up and chanted out the words "OCEAN OF LIGHT!"

it was then the light that illuminated the room was sucked in by the males hand.

"Give up fairy you can not beat me, for here is your ocean of light , right back at you."

Suddenly a large beam from the tip of his figure shot right back at her, causing the fairy of the sun and the moon to be knocked backwards.

"Alright boys I've had enough. it seems the princess needs some time to think, go place her back by the others."

And with that two figures picked up the fairy and placed her back into the room where the rest of the Winx were being held.

"Stella!...Stella!...?"

"Huh?" opening her eyes, Stella ended up looking at Muse who was looking right at her.

"Stella are you OK?"

Shaking her head the female once again found herself in the dark room.

"I-I think I'm alright..except for my bad hair style, how about you?"

"Well being stuck in this room, doesn't help and we can't transform ether?"

"W-What really?" Stella acted surprise , she knew this fact all along but in order for them to get there wings back, she would have to kill her source of power and make her father Ill, The princess of the sun on the moon could not risk this.

"I sure hope the guys can find us this time.. or we might be in trouble this time girls?" Tecna said a bit irradiated herself

"Tecna your good at small communications, reach Timmy .. quickly. " Musa said looking at her "Plus Stella doesn't look so well.."

"It's to dark in here, and my power is fading and without my wings it only makes it worse." Stella placed a hand on her head.

Tecna sighed and looked around, "Alright I have one thing .. but it has to be quick.. Timmy gave this to me for a emergency, Good thing , those guys don't know about it." Moving her hands to the side of her pants the fairy pulled out a small device. then pushing a button she called out quickly

"Timmy .. Timmy can you hear me .. I don't have much time but find us quickly .. Stella's light is going out and we don't have our wings.. we have no clue where we are but I know you can find out.. by tracking this " Suddenly the device beeped. and it proofed into thin air.

"What was that device Tecna?" Bloom asked curiously.

"That is what Timmy calls a LED.. " Tecna spoke up with a small sigh.

"LED.. what does that stand for?" Layla spoke up as she looked confused.

"Lost electromagnetic Device.. Timmy gave it to me feeling it would help some how .. and in this case I hope it did."

Stella listed to the other conversation but tuned it out a bit thinking, if they found out that she knew all along that their wings were gone, how would they think of her afterward. 'I'm sorry Winx' She said in her head.

"Well lets hope the guys find us soon," The radiant fairy intervened into the conversation.

OVER IN ALFEA

Flora and the specialist walked over into Faraganda's office.

"Flora do you understand what you and the girls are up against?" Faraganda spoke up in a serious tone.

"Yes headmistress, I understand and I'm sure the girls do as well."

Suddenly before anyone else can speak Timmy heard a buzz on the side of his uniform. "Huh?"

Clicking it he pressed play.

"Timmy .. Timmy can you hear me .. I don't have much time with this but find us quickly .. things aren't looking good for any of us, including Stella her light is going out from the darkness of this room and we don't have our wings.. plus we have no clue where we are but I know you can find out..Hurry there is not much time!" {Click}"

"How did tecna?"

Timmy sighed "A device I gave her it's called a LED.." Each of the specialist looked at him confused

"Lost electromagnetic Device.. I gave it to Tecna to use in a emergency.. and it seems she did put it to good use."

Brandon shook his head "Stella light is going out..? " Brandon couldn't hear anymore, quickly he stormed out of the room.

"Please.. please be alright Stella." Brandon commented as he pulled out his phone looking at a picture if her.

Flora walked out of the office and placed her hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry Brandon we will find her... and the rest of the Winx.. I promise."

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

And that's where I stop there, a friend of mine gave me the idea for the {LED device} so thanks buddy if your reading this. |

Please review

And thank you for reading.

|CHAPTER 5 is up next|

#Prince to the rescue;;#please do not steal #Fanfic written by the mun #and enjoy

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iphoenixrising · 7 years ago

Text

Doctor!Tim Drabble

@satire-please ran with me on this idea. It’s more about Steph than Tim, just a heads up XD

Steph waves wearily on her way to her car, and he turns to start the trudging walk back to his apartment. It’s been fucking ridiculous and he’s literally dragging a shoulder against each building he passes just to make sure he isn’t weaving--

One second Dr. Stephanie Brown was walking to well-worn Volkswagen, the next she turned around to shout at Tim again, remind him they’re starting Jessica Jones this week when her best friend just

Disappeared.

She blinks, startled at it enough to flinch.

“Tim?”

Her eyes go automatically to the line of tenement buildings around the hospital and she catches just a hint of dark blue in the night, the white bottoms of the Vans disappearing around the tallest. She’s utterly breathless watching one of Gotham’s vigilantes carry her bestie away like a damsel in distress (she is seriously going on Match.com one of these days if something doesn’t start happening soon).

She turns back again and starts to her car with a shake of coiled blonde curls bobbing gently to the motion.

When she hits the key fob, her lights flicker briefly, but she’s fuzzy with exhaustion, already yawning with the notion to just sit for a while and go home where a bubble bath and delivery pizza and Netflix will be hers dammit--

She doesn’t notice the footsteps behind her.

“Oh baby. Did it hurt when ya fell from heaven?”

Batgirl is just amazing.

Cradling her bruised, bloody knuckles, she watches the vigilante take out the last terrible, looming, hulking, asshole that just “wanta party baby.”

Gross.

What they got is an a fucking beatdown. Her immediate hard kick to the first thug’s nuts was enough to stun the rest of them for her to get a few good shots in. So close to her car, she could have put them down long enough to get the .9mm Taurus in the glovebox since three against one are terrible odds in Gotham City.

When the hand fists in her hair and pulls, she has an immediate thrill of fear along with the sharp pain.

That when the shadows come out from the niches of the night, and a booted foot takes the man’s face right the hell out.

And since she’s, you know, a doctor, in between getting her own shots in and her knee to the second man’s face (with a pick-up line like that? No wonder you’re desperate), she sees the automatic way Batgirl is protecting her right side, knows that she’s already been hurt tonight, sees the ripped skin and lacerations bleeding through the suit.

In no time, it’s over, and she’s a panting mess of kick-ass, staring wide-eyed at the vigilante. The vigilante with the mouth in her mask sewn shut (talk about symbolism, much?). And Steph’s heart is thundering in the back of her mouth, her palms sweaty after looking at the dangerous person in front of her, the one slowly straightening in a powerful, graceful move.

This crime fighter could snap her neck without breaking a sweat. Could kill her without really trying, but Steph’s eyes go automatically to the hand putting pressure over her ribcage, and the slightest haunch brings out everything in Stephanie Brown that screams to protect.

In a low voice, being absurdly gentle, she holds out one hand slightly, “thank-you...thank-you for saving me. I’m Steph, Steph Brown. I’m a doctor, a friend of Tim Drakes’? He, um. He helps sometimes. You guys, when you get hurt.”

A slow, imperceptible shift of shadows is a nod, an acknowledgement.

“And I have supplies at my apartment, okay? You’re hurt, and I’m a doctor. My-my car is right here, you can get in and I’ll take care of you. I have supplies at my house, and it’s close by, it’s safe. I promise. Just please...please let me help you.”

Gingerly, slowly, not taking her eyes away in case the vigilante decided to just vanish like they, you know, have a tendency to do, she eases the back door open and waits.

Her heart beats while she holds her breath and hopes, ‘please don’t go back out there like this. Please. You could pass out from blood loss, you could get trapped, you could--’

And it’s a slow, timid step taken in her direction, Batgirl easing forward as if she expects a trap or trick, as if she expects the person she just saved to attack while she’s weak that makes Steph’s chest clench uncomfortably tight.

But she doesn’t move, doesn’t stop the slow smile easing across her face as Batgirl climbs into the back of her car with carefully precise moves and lays down across the seat.

She helps the vigilante into her two bedroom apartment, talking gently about how she and Tim got through Med School alive, giving all the terrible details so the soft noises, the chuffs that could be laughter, puff the mask out over her mouth.

Putting her charge down in a kitchen chair, Steph takes off in a whirl of activity, completely and totally awake now that someone is in need.

She keeps talking while gloving up and taking the basic supplies from her cabinets, the small suture pack for just-in-case, when she assesses the hard press of bone against skin. She has Batgirl cleaned up and is making grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup while coffee brews and makes her little kitchen smell like home.

They communicate with various bodily signals and soft noises, the vigilante answering her questions with the gloved hands putting slight pressure on her wrist at yes and opening the hold, tapping instead at no. And Dr. Brown has been an ER attending in a city labeled one of the top five most dangerous cities in America. She’s patched up murderers, thieves, psychos, and sociopaths, she’s held their victims while they go shocky with pain and loss, she’s wept until she’s empty at orphaned children and dead parents, at people her hands, her brain, couldn’t save. And none of it has stopped her from running the gauntlet night after night, none of it has made her flinch back, to leave, to find another hospital in a less dangerous part of the city. None of it has made her less determined to make this time the one that counted.

It’s settled deep into her bones, this desire to protect, to save.

She’s smiling faintly while Batgirl eats the soup and sandwich with shaky hands, pulling her mask up just under her nose, gloves and gauntlets pulled off so her knuckles can be gently treated.

The soup is gone and Batgirl is poised by the window, looking back at her with the white eyes, and Steph takes a breath, reaches out to grip an edge of the cape.

“Please...come back. If you ever need me, if you get hurt, come find me. Even if you just text me where you are, I’ll come help you. I promise, okay?”

The vigilante perks a little at the offer, tilts her head to one side just slightly, like there’s a silent question waiting to spill out, but the gloved hand reaches out, squeezes her wrist again, and then Batgirl is just--

Gone.

Stephanie rushes to look out her window, eyes searching the near-dawn while the breeze blows her hair back and makes her nose numb. She bites down on her lip, staring long into the oncoming day before she can leave the window and try to catch some sleep.

Layla is her pride and joy. It’s the only other thing in life she takes seriously other than being a doctor.

Being a mom.

At sixteen, she’d been scared out of her mind at the prospect of having a tiny person to care for, to raise, to be a role model for. She’d been utterly petrified. If not for her Tim, she would have given the baby up for adoption and maybe finished high school, but without Layla, without Tim, she never would have gone to college and Med School, she never would have fought so hard to make something of herself.

Without Tim, she probably wouldn’t have made it through any of it, would probably have lost her little girl to CPS and resorted to drugs and alcohol the way her mom did even after promising her huge belly she’d never go that route, that her precious little one would never have to live like that. Tim’s the one that kept her fulfilling that promise.

And Layla loved him to the stars to this day.

When Kyle Redman, the former football star of Gotham High School and now History Professor at the community college, pulls up and waves, Steph sighs still when she has to let her little girl go. It’s only been the last few years that Kyle has started coming into their lives again, and he’s gotten just as enamoured of their daughter as she is. He’s always helped in any way he could, even before he graduated college, but he’d carefully let Steph be the main caretaker of their baby.

When he moved into a nicer part of Gotham, close to the best school, he’d made the offer for Layla to stay with him during the school week so Steph could work her horrendous hours without needing a babysitter.

They’ve ironed out all the awkwardness in the last two years, and Layla is so happy, so smart, so well-adjusted, that Steph keeps allowing it, no matter how much she misses the old days when it was just them (well, them and Tim really).

She holds Layla’s hand while they start down the sidewalk from her apartment.

“Did you remember Pickles the Frog?”

“Yup!”

“Did you remember your tablet?”

“Got it!”

“All of your books for school?”

“Mmhm, even Math,” and the little pouty moue is just so. Incredibly. Adorable.

“That’s my girl,” and before she lets her baby girl get into the car that will take her away for the whole week, she kneels down to grab on, to get one last squeeze.

“I love you, Peanut.”

And even though it might be getting closer to that time when Layla would roll her eyes at such things and whine about being too old, Mom, you’re embarrassing me. The nine-year-old just grips on tighter and giggles into her neck with overflowing affection.

“I love you too, Mommy.”

Kyle gets out of the car, smiling gently in the cool, crisp Autumn day. At ease with one another’s space, Steph gives him a hug and wide smile, glad to see he’s finally wearing something other than NFL t-shirts and worn jeans.

“Hey,” Kyle gives her one last squeeze and leans back so he can grin down at their daughter and thumb her chin, “did you girls have a good weekend?”

“We sure did, Daddy!” Layla beams at him. “Mommy helped me make slime out of Elmer’s glue and food coloring.”

“That is really cool! I hope you brought some?” And just like when they were stupid kids, Kyle has this incredible capability to get just as excited over the little things as Layla.

“You bet I did.”

“We made you your own container,” Steph winks at him, laughing at the peaceful pace, the ebbs and flows, that are her life.

There’s just one thing...one thing she might be missing.

And it falls heavily on top her awning, heavier than a bird, which is why she opens the window curiously, peering out into the night with drawn brows and the smell of popcorn flowing out the window with her.

The soft taps above her head draw her immediate eye because there’s a masked face hanging over the edge along with one hand. The lenses in the mask are raised and the black eyes are deep and fathomless, full of old pain and new determinations.

It makes Steph catch her breath and raise up both arms.

It had been a stupidly hopeful gesture, grabbing supplies to sneak out of the hospital, going online to get a things instead when she started getting guilty about it. (Come to think of it, there were more stocks of gowns, gloves, suture kits, intubation tubes, gauze and wraps, just more since the Wayne Foundation had seen how much Mercy General did for the people of Gotham and gathered other charities to help the hospitals flailing budget with sizeable donations every quarter or so).

However, she is currently glad with her rockin’ forethought.

Batgirl is too apparently.

This time she’d offered her most comfy pj’s (boy-shorts with Juicy on the ass and a tank top with That’s Not What I Said in a curly font), and Batgirl took her up on it.

The wicked gash in her thigh along with the variable other white bandages bleeding through was probably just to make Steph’s job a little easier.

But like she always had to, she powers through it, multi-tasking like a boss to heat up tonight’s fried chicken and potatoes, vegetables and fruit for dessert for Layla before she went off with her Dad for the week.

She has the plate right beside the vigilante before she sets down to work. She idly thinks this might have been planned for when Batgirl comes out of her bathroom with a small black mask glued somehow around her eyes, shedding the costume and cowl to let herself be treated.

There’s only a brief hesitation to pick-up the fork and start nibbling gingerly while Steph folds herself down on the floor and starts cleaning the bleeder in the vigilante’s thigh.

“I’m glad you came back,” she rambles on, “if you would have let this go or gotten it infected while you were still on patrol, it could have gotten nasty. I mean, just I’m sure some of what you do means you have to go in very unsterile environments, just some parts of Gotham are nasty, let’s be real here--”

Her Justice League mug is full of coffee for the vigilante, and is sipped on delicately, precisely. A soft noise made in the positive. She goes back to the fried chicken and takes a bigger bite.

Score. Steph’s fried chicken is the bomb.

“I know. I got the recipe a few years ago and it’s just gotten better over time. Who knew Chicken and a Biscuit crackers could be so good?” She rambles on while the stitches are made and the plate starts to get empty (no broccoli next time, got it), and the older injuries are treated, wound with fresh dressings.

Steph is still talking while Batgirl washes her plate and pours herself another cup of coffee. A pad of paper comes out at some point and they’re watching the Justice League cartoon on Layla’s profile when Steph gets to see the vigilante’s eyes get wide and she chuckles at the antics.

(“Does Batman really have a sense of humor?”

He’s a troll is the scrawled reply she’d been secretly hoping for.)

And before dawn, before the edges peek over the city, Batgirl is suited back up at her window again, gripping her hands in a firm but easy hold.

“I’m so glad you came by,” Steph gushes, smiling wide. “Come back sometime when I’m making lasagna casserole, or if you’re, you know, bleeding out or something. Even if I’m not here, you can come in if you just need to chill.” I’ll protect you is left hanging there, an offer for consideration.

The masks shifts into a smile, and it’s soft, so soft, Steph could believe she imagined it.

“Thank-you.”

Her eyes might be a little wet when Batgirl leaps into the oncoming day, moving more fluidly than when Steph manages to get her in through the window in the first place. And she waits again, until she sees daylight until she closes the window to get ready to run the gauntlet again.

And if a imperceptibly camera hidden in the crumbling brick and mortar of the building across from her’s catches that wistful expression crossing her face before she closes the window, well, only the dangerous, data-collecting crime fighter (the one who knows all) silently watching would be able to tell.

#doctor!tim #mentions of #tim drake #dick grayson #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #barbara gordon #my fic #my writing #I just love the what if Steph didn't give up her baby #and Tim basically helped her raise Layla #this isn't edited for shit #dr!tim

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