#He tried to offer her some once but she gave him such a nasty look she didn't try it again

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

How’s Your Head? | Bucky Barnes x Reader

This has been in my WIP forever and I finally finished it. Once again, I am looking for a soft, kind, Bucky Barnes to take care of me and flirt with me. Is that so much to ask?🥲

This is slightly longer than my usual stuff, just FYI. The WC is 7280. And yes the title is a Drag Race reference. 😂

Warnings: reader injury (not severe), creepy men (jail), blood, vomit, flirting, fluff🫶

Bucky didn’t like the staring. The eyes that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. The old woman just a few seats down from him leered at him almost aggressively, like she hoped looks could kill. And though this was a common occurrence, it still rubbed him the wrong way.

“Another adoring fan…” Bucky thought. 

He shifted side to side along with the rocking of the subway car and did his best to ignore her gaze- but couldn’t stand it any longer. He gave her a nod and a small, forced smile before heading for the adjoining subway car. Hopefully, he’d find an empty seat free from gawkers and onlookers.

But when he opened the door to the next car, he didn’t find the peace and quiet he’d hoped for.

“I’m not interested…” you said to the creepy guy sitting next to you.

“Oh, come on,” the man insisted. “Don’t be so uptight, sugar.” He rested a hand on your thigh and gave your leg a squeeze, his fingers digging into your flesh.

“Fuck off, dude. Seriously?” You banished his hand and stood from your seat, “eat glass, asshole.”

But as you tried to make your getaway, the man grabbed you by the wrist. He pulled you close as you struggled in his grip, his face only inches from yours. “Maybe you should learn some fuckin’ manners,” he threw you to the ground, your head striking the floor.

Bucky flew into a blind rage. He made quick work of your assailant, nearly removing the man’s head from his body. And with the entitled dickhead desperately escaping to another subway car, Bucky made his way to your side. 

“Hey, are you alright?” 

You sat on the floor, slightly dazed. A thick fog settled into every corner of your mind and your ears stung with a sharp ringing. “Yeah, I’m good. Didn’t hurt that bad,” you lied. Yet another interaction with an unknown man. Yes, he’d shooed away your creeper, but you wanted to be left alone. No more strange men, no more men pretending to be “one of the good guys” before showing their true self. 

If you could convince this random guy that you were okay, maybe he wouldn’t bother you. Maybe you’d be able to make it home without being touched by another strange hand. “Thanks for asking, but I’m-”

“Oh- you’re bleeding”. Only then did you notice the rush of warmth running down the back of your neck. Bucky yanked the jacket from his body and reached for your bloodied skull before quickly recoiling. “Erm, can I?” 

You nodded- the motion made you wince.

With cautious hands, he used his jacket to hold pressure to your wound. He stared down at you with genuine concern, his brow furrowed with worry. 

After a few moments, most of the fog cleared and brought you screeching back to reality. The reality in which a man you’d never met held his jacket to your bleeding scalp as you sat on the floor of a subway car. Pain pulsed beneath his touch and shot through your head. Warm blood dripped down your neck. But you didn’t care- all you wanted was to move.

Bucky watched as you struggled to get up and instantly tried to stop you. “Hey, careful. I don’t think-”

“I don’t wanna be on this floor any longer than I have to,” you did your best to stand, but the dizziness sabotaged your efforts. “People do weird shit on the train. I’d probably sitting in someone’s pee.” 

Bucky gave it a thought and instantly reconsidered his cautioning. “Ew. Yeah. You’re right,” the disgusted look on his face nearly made you laugh out loud. He thought back on all the questionable and downright nasty things he’d seen on the subway- he didn’t want you on that floor. “May I?” He offered you his free hand and got you safely into a seat. 

“Which stop is yours?” He asked, settling into the chair next to you. And though he seemed like a perfect gentleman, you gave him a suspicious glance. 

“Oh- I didn’t mean that in a ‘where do you live, I’m gonna follow you home’ type of way. More like, ‘how many stops do you have left before you can go get some rest?’ type of way”

You let out a laugh that sent pain pulsing behind your eyes. Maybe this stranger wasn’t so bad. “Um, I still have like five to go. I think. I’m coming all the way from Coney Island.” 

“Coney Island, huh?” A rush of memories hit Bucky like a train. Riding the cyclone with Steve and watching him puke. Spending all his money to win a stuffed animal for some redhead he had a crush on. 

“Yeah, I got to hang out with a girl I know from college. Haven’t seen her in a while and she’s never been out there. It was actually a pretty great day until that asshole cracked my head open…”

Bucky grimaced. He pulled his jacket from your scalp to give the wound another look, only to be greeted by a continuous flow of blood. “I think you should probably go to the ER. You might need stitches. And there’s a good chance you have a concussion.” 

You shot him only a nonchalant shrug, “I’m not worried about it. Plus, I don’t feel like going into debt so they can give me two Tylenol and an ice pack”.

Bucky liked your sense of humor, your wit. How you could be cheeky and sarcastic after being accosted surprised him. But he clocked the tension in your shoulders, the worry in your eyes. You were uneasy. Your glance darted from one end of the subway car to the other every few seconds; he knew you had to be searching for your assailant. Or the next man who wanted to touch you without permission.

“Hey, would you rather take a cab home?” Bucky said, pulling you from your anxious spiral. “I don’t blame you if you don’t want to ride the train after what happened.”

“Oh, um…”

“I’m not inviting myself home with you-” Bucky shook his head. He was cute when he got flustered. “I just mean, I’ll pay for you to take a cab if you’re uncomfortable.”

How you seemed to meet both the bottom of the barrel and the crème de le crème of men back-to-back nearly gave you whiplash. But this handsome stranger had done enough; you couldn’t let him pay for your ride home. “That’s- wow, that’s really sweet. But you don’t have to. It’s okay.”

“What if I want to? You seem uneasy… like you’re waiting for him to come back.”

You nodded.

“Then let’s get you a cab, alright? Next stop, we’re outta here.” He shot you a wink before once again reassuring you that he was not going to follow you home. “Is there someone who can keep an eye on you, though? Like I said, you probably have a concussion. And if your roommate or, um, significant other can sit with you for the rest of the night, that would be a good idea. Head injuries are no joke.”

“Well, I don’t have a significant other,” you almost laughed. “And my roommate’s out of town. She was supposed to get back around sevenish, but her flight got crazy delayed because of weather- now she’s not getting home for a few hours.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. He checked his watch and saw that it was only 8:04pm. He needed someone to sit with you for the rest of the night. Just in case something happened, you’d need a friend or loved one by your side. And if you didn’t have someone there with you, Bucky knew he’d spend the remainder of his evening worrying about the cute stranger he met on the train. 

Just then, the subway stopped. Bucky offered you his arm and guided you onto the platform and up the stairs- all while keeping his jacket in place against your wound. Getting away from the train eliminated your unease. No longer were you trapped in the tiny space, your blood staining the floor. You had an escort in the form of a good samaritan, and a ride that would get you home without any further abuse.

 But when Bucky hailed you a cab, your anxiety resurfaced.

“Hey, um…” you eyed the car as it approached, “Would you- do you mind riding with me?”

Bucky cocked his head to the side. 

“I don’t know- I’m just a little nervous and I don’t really wanna be in a cab alone with another random man,” you said. “I know it’s probably inconvenient for you- I’ll pay for your ride home from my place.” The taxi neared the curb and stopped in front of you, sending your unease into overdrive. “Do you mind?”

Bucky clocked your wide eyes and shaking hands. Sure, you made jokes and sarcastic quips about what happened. But deep down, you were shaken. And he wanted to help in any way he could. “Not at all- I get it,” he gave you a reassuring look, “and you don’t have to pay for my ride. Let’s just get you home, alright?”

He held the door open for you and helped you into the cab before sliding in behind you- his hand still attached to your bloody skull. The ride was quiet, save for the honking of horns and cursing drivers. But having Bucky with you for the duration eased your discomfort. 

“So, is there anyone you can call to come look after you?” Bucky asked after a while, “A friend, a neighbor, a family member?”

“I don’t really have any friends,” you said. “But not in a ‘I’m a loser and can’t make friends’ kind of way, I promise.” Bucky laughed. You liked his laugh. “I’m just still kinda new here. And all my family lives in across the country. Plus, I only know two of my neighbors. One of them is an old man who always tell me my skin looks ‘so soft’-”

Bucky’s nose wrinkled, “Ew…"

“Yeah. And the other is this girl who told me to shut the fuck up because she thinks my footsteps are too loud? So yeah, I don’t have many connections here yet.”

He sensed a little embarrassment staining your words and aimed to make you feel better, “Well I’ve lived here for quite some time, and I don’t have any friends, either.” 

That didn’t seem possible to you. He was so likable. Quiet, yet endearing. And certainly, a gentleman. He made you feel safe. You wondered how his girlfriend would react when she found out he took another woman home. 

Bucky found himself wondering how you didn’t have swaths of friends. Even after your harrowing experience on the train, you were so charming. Funny. Sweet. It was even harder for him to believe you didn’t have a love interest to go home to. But after what he’d witnessed tonight, he didn’t blame you for keeping to yourself. 

“What part of town do you live in?” You did your best to conceal the optimism in your voice, the hoped that he lived close by. It was embarrassing how smitten you were with this man.

“Brooklyn,” Bucky said. “I’ve lived there for a while- save for some years I spent, um, away.”

Brooklyn. Nothing a quick train ride couldn’t solve. Though you weren’t too keen on the subway after the night’s events. “Well, tell your girlfriend that I apologize for keeping you so long.”

“I don’t have one,” Bucky said. Things inside the cab fell quiet.

“Oh. Well, do you-” you second guessed yourself, but decided to push through. “Do you want to stay with me until my roommate gets home? You know, since you’re so worried about me and my possible concussion and my lack of friends.”

Bucky stopped breathing. “Oh, um. Sure. Yeah. If that’s- if that’s alright. You sure you’re okay inviting a stranger into your house?”

“Well, you’re not really a stranger, Sergeant Barnes”. You shot him a wink.

An immediate ringing filled Bucky’s ears. He didn’t know what to say, how to react.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Bucky’s mind echoed with the sound of your voice referring to him by name. He liked the way it sounded coming from you. But he hated that you knew who- and what- he was. And when the cab turned onto your street and stopped in front of your apartment, he nearly panicked. He reconsidered his agreement to stay with you. But you didn’t seem to mind having the ex-Winter Soldier so close. And he didn’t want you to be alone with a head injury.

Against his better judgement, he followed you to the front door of your building. 

“My great aunt actually lived here back in the fifties,” you told Bucky as you fumbled for your keys. Bucky wondered how you could tell casual stories while dealing with a head injury and an ex-assassin. But as you continued to speak, he realized that he didn’t quite hear what you’d said. He was still reeling from your mention of his name. 

And then he noticed you struggling. You were dizzy after cracking your head open, and a slight shaking rendered your hands almost useless. No matter how many times you tried, you couldn’t seem to finagle the key into the lock. 

“Um, do you want some help?” He gestured to your keys and allowed you to drop them into his free hand. He pushed the old door open with a loud creak and escorted you inside the lobby- his hand still resting on the back of your head. It was quiet while the two of you waited for the ancient elevator to roar to life. And when the doors finally opened, he guided you inside and watched you press the ‘5’ button.

“So… how’d you know it was me?” He asked as the elevator slowly climbed to your floor.

“Well, when I first saw you, I thought you looked kinda familiar. But I couldn’t place you”. You laughed a quiet, bashful laugh, “Then you knelt down next to me, and I thought I was gonna pass out- but not from the head trauma. You just you have like, the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.” The head injury had you a bit loopy, a little too honest. Too confident. “I knew I’d seen those eyes before… and then it clicked. You were so chivalrous, you know? So old fashioned. I mean, who uses their own jacket to stop a stranger’s head wound from bleeding?” 

Bucky shrugged. His cheeks flushed pink.

“I read a book a few years ago about Captain America and his efforts during World War II. And there was a huge portion about Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes… And that’s where I’d seen those eyes.” You flashed him a dramatic wink, “Truth be told, it was my favorite part of the book.”

A shy laugh made its way out of Bucky’s mouth, “Is that so?”

The elevator lurched to a stop and nearly sent you tumbling to the floor. You’d gotten used to the clunky machine since moving into the building, but your sabotaged equilibrium didn’t stand a chance against it. Bucky caught you in a careful, protective grasp before you could tip over. He gently righted you and searched your face for any indicators of discomfort. 

“You alright?”

“All good, Sergeant Barnes.” You gave him a salute.

He rolled his eyes and escorted you into the hall, “you can just call me Bucky, if you like.”

“Okay, Bucky-” you said with a smile, “follow me.” You lead him in the direction of your apartment- with his jacket still plastered to your scalp. The man was determined to help you. You’d give him that.

You once again needed his assistance when it came to unlocking your front door. But when Bucky got the door open, he just stood there. He didn’t go inside. He held the door for you and insisted you go ahead, finally peeling the jacket from your wound. He knew he didn’t belong here.

You noticed how tentative he was about entering your home and beckoned him inside. “You can come in…” you said. “Are super soldiers like vampires? Do y’all need an invitation?”

Bucky laughed, “No. I just… I don’t do this kind of thing very often.”

“Oh, you don’t accompany injured women home from the subway on a weekly basis? I’m shocked.”

You flipped on the light and let the warm glow reveal your apartment. Bucky admired the art covering your walls, the books lining your shelves, the smell of some kind of baked goods lingering in the air. This place was cozy, welcoming. Nothing like his apartment.

While he was distracted drinking in the details of your home, you gave his jacket a once over. Blood coated the leather and smeared the lining. It was enough to make you nauseous.  “Sorry about this mess… here, let me clean it up for-”

“It’s leather- I’m not worried about it,” Bucky shrugged. “I’ll just wipe it off later.”

“Ew, I think that’s considered a biohazard, Sarge.”

Bucky’s laugh echoed through your home- you liked the sound of his voice bouncing around your space. “Well, lucky for me, I’m not susceptible to biohazards. So, really, it’s not a big deal.” He shot you a wink and hung his bloody jacket on the back of a chair. “Let me take a look at your head.”

He gently moved your hair out of the way enough to expose your wound. He was as careful as he possible not to hurt you or make things worse. And using the dish towel you offered him, he wiped away enough blood to get a good look. 

“It’s big, but not deep enough to warrant stitches. And it looks like the bleeding has finally come to a stop.” 

“Perfect. I’m gonna go take a shower” you said. “Make yourself at home. You’re welcome to anything in the fridge, except the kombucha. My roommate will murder you if you drink her kombucha.”

Bucky didn’t even know what kombucha was. “Are- are you sure you wanna go shower?”

“Um, yeah. Gotta get the subway-floor germs off me,” you gave a dramatic shudder. “Some of us are, indeed, susceptible to biohazards.”

“That’s fair,” he laughed, “I’m just a little worried about your balance… I think it’s probably seen better days.”

He wasn’t wrong. The floor did indeed seem to dip and shift under you unsuspecting feet. The room spun on occasion. The walls wiggled. But you needed to get cleaned up. “I’ll be extra careful. Promise.” You offered him your pinky and made him link his with yours. “But I have more blood in my hair than anyone should- I need a shower.” You left Bucky alone in your living room with a promise to be back soon.

It was strange for him, being in a stranger’s home like this. He didn’t get invited places or have friends to hang out with. He had Sam- and that was it. And while Sam was great, he never felt quite like this at Sam’s apartment. Something about your place warmed him, made him feel a little lighter. Or maybe it was you. Who was he kidding? Of course, it was you.

But Bucky knew this feeling couldn’t last. In a few hours, your roommate would return and send him home. And that would be the end of it. Of course, he’d be thrilled to see you again under better circumstances. But assuming he’d get that chance would only lead to disappointment. And so, as he waited for you to finish your shower, he did his best to remember this feeling just in case it was the last time.

“I said make yourself at home and you didn’t even sit down!” you said when you emerged from the bathroom. You found Bucky in the living room with his hands in his pockets, admiring your things as though he were in a museum. Looking, never touching. “Relax a little, sarge. The couch is really comfy, I promise.”

Bucky liked the way you looked with your skin still slightly damp form the shower, your hair wet and a little messy. “Oh, yeah- I just got distracted looking at all your…” he gestured to your bookcase, “your books and your tchotchkes. You have good taste- I like that you have two copies of Fellowship of the Ring.”

“Well, my sister dropped one of them in the lake at summer camp when we were kids…” you pointed to the faded cover and worn spine of the book in question. “She took a hairdryer to it and it’s mostly fine, but my mom made her get me a replacement. I just can’t seem to part with this one, though.” You plucked your water-damaged copy of Fellowship of the Ring from the shelf and flipped through the pages, “too much sentimental value. You know?

Bucky felt a small smile creeping upward- you didn’t mind damaged goods. Maybe you’d want to see him again after all. 

“Can I get you a drink or something? I have water, tea, La Croix, wine…” you looked at him expectantly. 

“Oh, no I’m okay-”

“Well, I’m going to the fridge for some water anyway, so you’re not saving me a trip…” you shot him a wink and began your trek to the kitchen. He followed in your footsteps, too much of a gentleman to let you fetch him a drink. And though he didn’t know what La Croix was, he took the one you offered him with a smile.

He followed you yet again, but to the couch this time. He sat a respectful distance away- as respectful as your small couch would allow- and taste tested the blackberry drink in his hand. It didn’t taste like blackberries. But he thanked you, anyway.

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to check in on you after your shower- he was too entranced by the sight of you in your pajamas. “Hey, how’s your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints.”

Maybe it was too forward of a joke. Maybe someone from his time wouldn’t appreciate crass humor. Bucky’s cheeks flushed red- and he burst into laughter. You joined him, ignoring the throbbing pain in your skull. 

“It feels fine. I mean, it hurts, but it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before” you said. “Are you just gonna make sure I stay up all night?” 

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “uh, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Oh…” you grew a little embarrassed. “I thought you couldn’t go to sleep if you have a concussion.”

“You can go to sleep- it’s just good to have someone check in on you now and then,” he said. “And, hey, you don’t have to stay in here with me- don’t feel like you have to entertain me, or anything. If you wanna go to bed, I’ll be fine out here.”

“Well, I don’t know about entertaining, cause I think the concussion kinda fucked up my ability to tap dance,” you laughed. “But I wanna hang out here with you- if you don’t mind the company.”

He gave you a shy smile, “I don’t mind at all.”

Bucky wasn’t anything like the tabloids said. He wasn’t cold or scary or threatening. He sat on your couch, sipping a La Croix and admiring your throw blanket. He was the farthest thing from intimidating. He had a quiet calm about him that brought you peace. Never did you think you’d invite a man you met on the subway to accompany you home. But Bucky made you feel safe. He was sweet, he clearly cared for your well-being. He was, by all definitions, perfect.

“So, what do superheroes do in their downtime?” you asked. “Like when you’re not saving the world, what do you do for fun?”

Bucky shrugged. He didn’t do anything for fun. “Um, I have court mandated therapy appointments,” he gave an awkward laugh. “I read. I hang out with Sam when he’s not in Louisiana visiting his sister. And I have lunch with a neighbor of mine every Wednesday- this old man named Yori.”

“I’m sure he could say the same about you- that he has lunch with some old man named Bucky.”

Bucky’s head fell back in a laugh, “yeah, you’re right. He’s- he’s about twenty years younger than me.” Bucky didn’t bring up the fact that Yori didn’t know his real age or anything about his past. About how the Winter Soldier killed his son. “Um, what about you?” He quickly changed the subject, “what do you do for fun?”

You thought it over for a moment. You hadn’t expected him to ask; most guys never asked what you liked to do for fun. They didn’t ask you anything at all, really. “Well, I also go to therapy,” you said. “My therapist’s name is Angela and I love her. And when I’m not ‘hanging out’ with Angela, I like to read. I like to go on walks. Oh, and I do a lot of baking- there’s a Tupperware of chocolate chip cookies on the island if you want some.”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide. He was off the couch quicker than you could comprehend and returned with the entire Tupperware in hand. But before he could dive in, he offered one to you. He was a gentleman, after all. 

“Oh, shit, these are so good”. Bucky wiped a stray crumb from his lip, “seriously, maybe the best I’ve ever had.”

His praise made your cheeks hot. Bucky Barnes called you ‘the best he ever had’- it was enough to make you sweat. “Oh, I’m flattered. The recipe’s been in my family for generations, though, so I can’t take full credit, but I-”

“I’m giving you full credit”, he said as he finished his second cookie. “These things are incredible.” 

You smiled so hard it hurt. “Well, I make at least one batch a week, so…” This was it, your excuse to see Bucky again. You could simply say that you wanted to bake him some cookies as a way of saying thank you, and then you’d ask him out. It was a perfect plan, really. A flawless, surefire way to guarantee that you’d see him at least once more. But as you tried to suggest baking him a ‘thank you’ batch, your mouth flooded with saliva.

Bucky clocked the way you grew suddenly quiet. He dropped his third cookie and inched closer, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, you okay? Do you need something?”

You did your best to push past the wave of nausea. Breathing in your nose and out through your mouth, you willed your body to cooperate. You made a valiant effort, but it was no match for the clear and present threat of vomit. This was happening- now. You scrambled to your feet and made a beeline for the bathroom, swearing to yourself you wouldn’t puke in front of the James Buchanan Barnes. 

Bucky rushed after you and found you kneeling in front of the toilet, emptying the contents of your stomach. “Oh, shit- here, let me,” he carefully moved your hair out of your face, holding it behind you in an imitation ponytail. His touch was gentle, cautious. He didn’t want to pull too hard and hurt you- you didn’t need any extra pain. 

He watched your body lurch as you wretched over and over, voiding your system completely. It was harsh, almost violent. And when you finally sat back on your heels, black and white spots danced through your field of vision. You were empty. Spent. Exhausted. 

“Hey, do me a favor and sit against this wall, okay?” Bucky guided you backward until you rested comfortably like he asked. “I’m gonna go get you some water, and I don’t want you tipping over while I’m gone.” Even in your despondent, miserable state, he still made you smile. And when he was certain that you wouldn’t injure yourself in his absence, he rushed to the kitchen for a glass of water.

He returned moments later with ice cold water in hand. “Thanks,” you croaked, your throat raw. Small sips of the cool water eased the burning. And a few more swigs rid your mouth of the unpleasant aftertaste. “I’m sure you weren’t planning on watching a stranger puke tonight,” you laughed. It made your head pound. “But I appreciate the water. And you holding my hair.”

Bucky plopped down next to you with a “sure thing” and a “don’t worry about it.” But you’d heard those phrases before. You’d heard them from people who were never a sure thing, people who made you worry about everything they did for you. They’d throw their rare acts of kindness in your face and use them as ammo in an attempt to disprove the pain they caused. It was condescending. Manipulative. Hurtful.  But Bucky meant what he said. All he wanted to do was help. You could tell.

He watched you catch your breath. Watched you drink your water in small sips. But he kept an eye out for another wave of nausea. He wanted to be ready in case he needed to hold your hair again. And he found himself thanking the universe that you’d invited him in; imagining you going through this by yourself broke his heart. 

“How do you feel?” he asked after a while.

“Not the best... but I’ll probably survive.”

Bucky’s laugh filled the room, “well, that’s very good news.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence. Bucky’s hand rested near yours. Your thigh bumped against his a few times. You swore electric currents passed between the two of you each time you touched. 

“Hey, if you don’t mind, could you grab me some Tylenol?” 

Bucky was up in an instant, ready to fetch you what you needed. But he found himself lost with no idea where he was going. He was so intent on helping, on making you feel better, that he was ready to run off without a map.

“In the cabinet to the left of the fridge,” you laughed. 

He shot you a wink and sped off. And while he rummaged through your cabinet, you made an embarrassing effort to stand. You rose on wobbly legs, determined to brush your teeth. There was no way you were going to have vomit breath around Bucky- absolutely not. He was the handsome stranger of your dreams. And you couldn’t screw this up; not that you thought he’d kiss a random concussed woman he met on the subway. But you wanted to leave the very best impression possible.

Bucky came screeching own the hall, bottle of Tylenol in hand. “I didn’t know how many you wanted, so I brought the whole thing”, he shrugged. You shot him a smile in the mirror and gave him a muffled “thanks”.

He stood patiently in the doorway, waiting for you finish brushing your teeth. And when you banished the rank taste of bile, you accepted the Tylenol. You tossed back four pills, and before you could reach for your water, Bucky retrieved it for you. He was one step ahead of what you needed. 

With the pills washed down your throat, you gave Bucky an expectant look. “Back to the couch?”

“Yeah, I mean, only if you’re feeling up to it,” he checked his watch. Noticed the yawn you tried to keep concealed. “If you wanna get some rest, please, don’t mind me. You can go to bed- I’ll be fine on my own.”

“No, I’m good. I’m fine,” you took him by the hand and led him back to the living room. “I’m having a good time.” Bucky didn’t say a word; he just let you guide him. He hadn’t held hands with someone in- he didn’t know how long. And holding hands with you- a stranger he’d grown rather smitten with- was enough to stop his heart.

The two of you sunk back into the couch- closer this time- and kept the conversation going. Your thigh rested against Bucky’s; his arm curved around the back of the couch. You could’ve sworn he was playing with a piece of your hair as he talked. But you didn’t want to ask and ruin the moment.

As the night continued, Bucky was shocked. He couldn’t believe you’d only heard of a few of his favorite movies. And he’d never heard of any of yours. “Make me a list,” you said, handing him a pen and a scrap of paper. “And I’ll make one for you. A person’s favorite movies say a lot about them.” 

“Yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow at you. “And what do mine say about me? The ones you know of, that is.”

A sly smile pulled at your lips, “they say that you’re a hopeless romantic.” It almost sounded like an accusation, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Is that so?”

“That is so!” you told him. “But I’m gonna tell you a secret…”  You lowered your voice, beckoned him closer, scanned the room as though in search of any eavesdroppers. “I’m the same way.” 

Just as you finished your list of movies for Bucky, you considered writing down your number. It would be so smooth, so perfectly timed- but what if he thought it was too forward? What if he didn’t want your phone number at all? You scratched out your area code and handed him the list with a smile.

The two of you continued teasing and joking and learning about each other. You found out that Bucky loved peach cobbler. He learned about your passion for animals. And eventually you asked the question you’d been curious about all night.

“So, where were you headed?” 

“What?”

“Well, you were on the subway. I’m assuming you were going somewhere.” You thought he was probably going to some fellow hero’s house for Super Movie Night. Or maybe a meeting with Captain America and Company. He had something much cooler to do than anything you planned for the night, that was for sure.

“Oh, right…” he cringed. “Um, I wasn’t actually heading anywhere. I was just riding the train to, well, ride the train.” It was embarrassing. More embarrassing than anything he’d ever done or said in his hundred years of life.

You cocked your head to the side, “Hmm. Interesting. So, is that like a hobby of yours?” 

He wished he could take his answer back. He wished he would’ve said he was going to dinner. Or Target. Or literally anywhere. But no, he just had to be honest. “No, it isn’t a hobby. It’s more like… exposure therapy.”

“Shit. Sorry,” you threw him an apologetic look. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“It’s okay, no big deal. I just- I don’t really like confined spaces. Or spaces with a lot of people. It’s a- it’s a long story.”

You nodded. 

“So, my therapist told me two combine the two and force myself to take the train- which isn’t great for my fear of trains,” he let out an awkward laugh. “Anyway, I was just trying it out. Seeing how it made me feel.”

Your heart broke for him. He had so many problems, so much trauma to deal with. And while you weren’t a psychiatrist, you didn’t think combining three of his fears into one nightmare was very sound medical advice. “And how did it make you feel?” 

“It wasn’t great- this lady was staring daggers at me for ten solid minutes. But I did get to teach that creepy guy a lesson, so at least there’s a silver lining.”

You laughed. He loved the sound- wanted to hear it all the time. 

“Thank you again, by the way, Sarge. You really rocked that guy’s shit.”

“I don’t like hurting people-” he shrugged, “It’s just something I’m good at. I try not to engage in violence unless absolutely necessary, you know? But that guy deserved it. Probably deserved a little more, but…” He gestured to you, “priorities.”

A warm rush flooded your cheeks. James Buchanan Barnes referred to you as a priority. 

The evening continued as the two of you swapped stories. You couldn’t believe how funny he was, how many ridiculous things he did back when he was young. In the comfortable safety of your living room, he came alive. You asked for more tales of young James Barnes and his antics with Steve Rogers. 

But as time passed, Bucky clocked the way you sank deeper into the couch. You nodded along with his stories and made comments here and there, but there was no mistaking your exhaustion. You leaned against his body more and more until your head rested on his shoulder. 

And then, you were asleep. Completely out. 

But Bucky didn’t mind. He sat still and quiet. He silenced his phone and yours. After the night you had, you needed the rest. And he was more than happy to help you get some sleep. He held in his laughter as you muttered nonsense under your breath- something about crepes and trench coats. It was perfect. Not the night Bucky expected, but the night he needed. And he’d stay in that exact position for hours if he had to. 

But after only forty minutes, a loud crash scared you awake.

Two large pieces of luggage fell to the floor inside your front door. “Fuck Delta airlines and FUCK LAX!” your roommate, Emma, yelled. “I swear to god, there’s a curse on that fucking airport and Delta is the devil’s airline.”

She eyed the room for a moment, taking in the unexpected scene. “Ew, why is there a bloody jacket in the kitchen? And who the fuck are you?”

You stood, begrudgingly leaving your spot next to Bucky. “This is Bucky, that’s his jacket. Some asshole attacked me on the train. I split my head open. He brought me home and kept an eye on me till you got back.”

Maybe she was just in a shit mood because of the travel nightmare. Or maybe she recognized Bucky. But either way, Emma wasn’t having it. “Okay, well, thanks for bringing her home. But I’m back, so you can go. Now. And don’t forget your nasty jacket.”

Bucky gave an awkward laugh. He mumbled a “nice to meet you” and stood from the couch. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, and you wished telepathy came with the serum. If he could only read your mind, he’d know how sorry you were. How horrified you were by Emma’s behavior. You couldn’t believe how rude she was being, how utterly unkind. 

But your mind and body weren’t quite working together. You were still groggy, lost in the haze of sleep. And your head injury only made things more difficult. You did your best to formulate a response to Emma and an apology to Bucky. But before you could say anything, Emma was at it again. 

“Seriously, dude. It’s time for you to go, get out of my house.”

Bucky was so flustered, so uncomfortable that he left without saying goodbye. Without getting your number. He shut down. He simply snagged his jacket from the kitchen and bailed. He heard you arguing with Emma as he walked down the hall. Heard you near-tears. 

He wanted to turn around and say goodnight. To protect you from Emma’s wrath. Comfort you. More than anything, he wanted to get your number. Maybe ask you out. But he was too thrown off by the whole thing. He didn’t expect such a response- he didn’t even get to tell Emma that you needed looking after. He just ran. And it made him feel like a coward. 

He pressed the button for the ancient elevator once. Twice. Five times. And when it finally arrived, he got in and slammed the button for the first floor. Ruining his chances of ever seeing you again. Sure, he knew where you lived. But he couldn’t just show up. You’d already dealt with enough creepy shit from weird men- he wasn’t going to stalk you. 

Bucky spent the entire elevator ride heartbroken. He knew he’d have to go home to his empty apartment; knew he’d think about you for way too long. You’d probably forget about him after a day- maybe two at the most. And he’d spend months trying to get over the stranger from the subway.

But when he stepped out of the elevator, he found you waiting for him.

“Hi, um… what?” He was more than a little confused. “How did you- how’d you get down here so fast?”

“Stairs,” you breathed. “Faster.”

Bucky couldn’t believe you. It was romantic; it was something out of one of his favorite movies. But it was stupid. “That was… that was a terrible idea- you could’ve gotten hurt. You almost fell over earlier when you were just standing still. Why’d you run down the stairs?”

“Cause I didn’t get to say goodbye…” your voice was soft, heartbroken. “And I didn’t get to give you my number.”

Wordlessly, Bucky handed you his phone. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to chance ruining such a perfect opportunity. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him, of all people. That you actually wanted to see him again.

When you finished, you extended Bucky’s phone in his direction- but recoiled as he tried to reach for it. “Promise me you’ll call?”

“On my life,” he said. The answer brought a warm smile to your face- a smile he wanted to see again. As soon as possible. And when you gave his phone back, he took a moment to stare down at your number. This had to be a dream. 

“Do me a favor and go get some rest, okay?” He extended his pinky and linked it with yours, “Drink a lot of water. And even though she seems like she’s in a bad mood, ask your roommate to check in on you every now and then.”

“Yeah, like she’s gonna go for that-”

“Tell her that if she doesn’t, I’m coming back to look after you myself. And I’ll drink her, her um…” 

“Kombucha,” you whispered. 

“Right, I’ll drink her Kombucha!” He laughed and shot you a wink, “That’ll do the trick.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wiggled your pinky with his, and stepped into the still-open elevator doors. “Thank you for everything. I’m really happy I met you.” 

Bucky blushed. “So am I. Not under the best circumstances, but-”

“Worth it,” you shot him a wink. Just as the doors began to close, the two of you exchanged waves. And just before Bucky vanished from view, you threw a quick “call me” his way. And then he was gone.

You made it back to your apartment, nearly tripping over Emma’s luggage. She apologized as you grabbed a glass of water and nearly cried when you told her the story of your evening. And though you wanted to hear about her airport nightmare, you needed to sleep. 

You got settled in bed and realized- you missed Bucky already. 

And just as you decided to go to sleep for the night, your phone buzzed:

“Wanted to call but figured it might be too soon- seeing as it’s only been about four minutes. I’ll call you in the morning. And just so you know: even without the tap dancing, I found you very entertaining. I’m really glad I met you.

If you need anything at all, let me know. Feel better.

-JBB”

—————————————

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[gurugirl]

Can We Start Over | Ch. 5 The Coincidence

Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers

This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).

Chapter 5. Summary: Things have changed for you and Harry but when you see him at a meeting, you are taken by surprise. It feels like destiny. Maybe this time things will work out for you two.

A/N: This is the final part to this series! Thank you everyone who stuck with the story and gave it a shot! Appreciate all the love!

Word Count: 12.7k

Warning: 18+ only, angst, smut, fluff

Can We Start Over? masterlist

Mr. Allen was on the phone again. He’d called you into his office but the moment you stepped in he got a call and told you to sit and wait. That it would only be a minute.

And it was only a minute. But then he got another call and now it was 23 minutes later while he was still yammering about some person who was just the worst.

You were used to it, though. Mr. Allen was retired so nothing was a rush for him anymore. Which also meant he held other people up. But waiting for your boss was the least of your worries.

His wife and her ever-changing personality was your biggest concern. She was, to put it mildly, a monster. And to make matters worse, she ran the whole household so you were often seeking her out for things. Mrs. Allen also handled her husband’s schedule and if he was running behind guess who got the blame. That’s right. You did. Every time.

And it was the same thing over and over again. You started your day trying to keep Mr. Allen up to task, failed, got reprimanded and degraded by a nasty human, held back tears and then took a long drive with loud music to clear your head with a quick stop for dinner, probably at a drive-through.

Needless to say, you were already planning on quitting. You’d gotten really lucky with Alfred. And even working with Harry hadn’t been as bad as it was working for Mrs. Allen and her husband. But you tried not to think about Harry if you could help it.

By the time Mr. Allen got off the phone he was running late for his physical therapy appointment. You got him moving along quickly and sent him on his way but not before Mrs. Allen started poking around and making comments under her breath.

“What was that?” You turned to look behind yourself at the wicked witch as she stood near the edge of the foyer.

“He’s late again.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“That is correct.”

She rolled her eyes, “What’s the point of having a personal assistant who can’t even keep the boss on schedule?”

You smiled, holding back your true thoughts, “Well, being as my job description doesn’t entail using physical force on the boss, which is what it would take to get Mr. Allen to keep on time for anything, I’m certain you’ll find that once again, this isn’t my responsibility.”

“Lazy,” she spoke under her breath.

You tilted your head and squinted your eyes at her, “That’s the last thing I am. Now, if you don’t mind, my workday is over. Have a good evening.”

You walked past her to go into your room to pack up your laptop and leave. You’d stay at your own place that night. You hated staying at the Allen’s house. Not only was the room they’d given you a tiny spec of a thing with no windows, no closet, and not even a single rug to cover the cold tile floors but being anywhere near Mrs. Allen made your skin crawl.

“I don’t know why we bother with the room for you,” she was standing in the doorway when you turned around.

“You really didn’t bother much with the room in the first place. That’s why I don’t stay here. My house has a better bed with a big window looking into my backyard. I just feel better in my own bed at night.”

You walked past her and held your breath so as not to inhale her disgusting, pungent perfume. You used to like the scent she wore. But now you loathed it. Whenever you smelled it, even on another woman, it made you queasy. You very much did not like Mrs. Allen.

You turned up the volume on your car radio the moment your front tires hit the road. You always looked forward to going home after work. This day wasn’t as bad as you’d had before and tomorrow you’d do it all over again.

And instead of stopping at a drive-through for fast food, you decided you’d stop at the grocery store and pick up ingredients to actually make something fresh.

Typically you didn’t cook. You didn’t have time for it. Picking up groceries would put you home at almost 8 pm. And then you still needed to cook so you wouldn’t be eating until close to 9 and then you could finally relax with a glass of wine and a good book or something trashy on television. Which was why drive-throughs were your go-to dinner plans. It meant you were home by 7:30 and dinner was already cooked. Not the best use of money and certainly not the healthiest way to live but you wouldn’t be doing it much longer.

You had a meeting to attend with Mr. and Mrs. Allen the following week that piqued your interest. It was for a piece of art that they’d been looking for. And someone found it for them. From an art dealer who was not too far away. You didn’t know for sure but you had a feeling. And you wanted to find out if that feeling was right.

Maybe you were a masochist and just wanted to pour salt onto the wound of your split open heart one more time. Or maybe you did have some hope that it was Harry and that maybe you could try and receive his feelings for you once and for all.

But it’d been just over 9 months since you’d seen him and you were sure he’d moved on by now. There would be no reason for him to still be pining over you the way you were over him. And what were the chances that it was him in the first place? You didn’t know but you needed to find out.

Yeah. You regretted what you’d done. Pushing him away like that. But once you’d done it, it felt like it was too late to go back. Maybe it was your pride. Or that little voice in the back of your head that told you men always leave and they always lie. That anyone that might love you would probably just disappoint you in the end.

But now you were in therapy and talking to someone opened your eyes to your self-sabotaging ways. You had been certain that the way you felt couldn’t be helped. That you were a prisoner to your trauma and all the hurt and that it was for the best. You’d been wrong, though. You could help the way you processed feelings and the way you responded when things got hard. You didn’t have to push away the notion that a man could love you or keep running away from your problems.

After picking up ingredients to make a nice little dinner for yourself you arrived at your cute house.

You loved the place. Loved the neighborhood. You found it a few weeks after you told Harry to leave your apartment. It wasn’t that far from your old place but you felt like it was good enough for a new start. At the time, you were ready to take the plunge. To move on. It was just a rental but it felt like your own place.

Though, not long after moving in you started feeling like getting rid of every trace of Harry had been a bad idea. You missed him. However, you didn’t recognize how you were feeling for him until you began therapy. The more you spoke honestly about everything and without any judgment, you began to peel off layers of yourself that you had unconsciously piled on to protect yourself. But that only wound up making things worse.

And one night, almost six months since you’d seen him, you decided to drive past his big, gated home. You still had the fob to his entry but of course, you wouldn’t use it. You only wanted to just drive past. To your surprise, there was a For Sale sign stuck in the grass in front of the gate.

You parked across from the house and tried to see if there was anything that indicated he’d actually moved out but seeing inside was impossible. You could see the top level of the house and that was really it.

The sinking feeling in your chest that you’d probably never see him again started to settle over you slowly. You’d moved away and blocked him from everything and then deleted his contact and now he was no longer living in the only place you knew where he might be. He was gone.

But then when you helped set up the meeting with the art dealer there was the smallest tinge of hope there. You felt like this might be your last chance. You had just been about to quit when Mrs. Allen gave you the number to an assistant of a dealer who had access to a painting they wanted. You never learned the name of the art dealer, only of the assistant who worked for them.

So you’d stick it out until after the meeting and then you’d give up your hope for ever seeing Harry again if it wasn’t him. And you’d also quit your job once and for all.

Of course, it’s not him. Don’t get your hopes up.

You had to remind yourself of that over and over again. The chances were slim that you would actually be seeing Harry.

Either way, you were looking forward to that meeting. Even if it wasn’t Harry, you’d be free of Mr. and Mrs. Allen once and for all after you quit.

But the days dragged on slowly. The only thing that was good about the time that led up to the meeting was the little secret that you were quitting. It was something you were excited about.

The morning of the meeting you woke up well before your alarm went off. You’d been unable to fall back asleep as you remembered the last time you and Harry slept together. The words he spoke to you that night haunted you every day since, “Want to make you feel so good. Want to make you smile, Y/n. Want to make you happy.”

You sighed. You hoped it was him at the meeting. You hoped there was still some way to salvage what you’d done. Hoped there was still something there. If it was him, that is.

Your entire morning routine had turned into a spa event. You turned on your coffee pot and then got into the shower, getting yourself ready for the possibility of anything and everything. You had selected your outfit days prior and put on a full face of makeup. You were going to look your absolute best.

And no matter what the outcome of the meeting was, today was a good day. Because at the end of it, you’d be a free woman. You’d never again step foot in the Allen house. You took all of your belongings from the spec of a bedroom over a few days so no one would notice. You rarely stayed over anyway so it wasn’t like you needed to keep much there in the first place.

You had a taxi take you to the Allen’s on that day. Because your plan was to quit the moment the painting was purchased and you weren’t going to be going back to their house with them after the meeting just to get your car. You’d get a taxi home. It was quite dramatic but you couldn’t wait to quit. Couldn’t wait to tell Mrs. Allen you were done and then walk off. Only a few more hours.

When you arrived at the Allen’s your first stop was the kitchen to make Mr. Allen’s coffee (skim milk and stevia) and Mrs. Allen’s chai green tea with raw honey. This was always the best part of your day. Things were usually quiet, Mrs. Allen wasn’t raging just yet, and the morning light that came into their gorgeous kitchen felt peaceful. While the coffee was perking you brought Mrs. Allen her tea drink where you knew you’d find her and placed it down on its coaster next to her. As usual, she did not acknowledge your existence or even say thank you.

Mr. Allen was always cordial, however.

“Morning Mr. Allen. Here’s your coffee.”

“Thank you, Y/n. Have you seen my wife this morning?”

You smiled and stood next to his desk, “I just gave her some tea. Why?”

“I think she wanted to make sure we had wire information set up to pay for the painting today. She’s very set on making the purchase. Can you double-check we have everything we need?”

“I’m certain we have everything we need but I’ll definitely do a quick check.”

As you suspected, everything was ready to go. When you confirmed as much you went to find Mrs. Allen to tell her.

“Mr. Allen told me you wanted to make sure the wire instructions were ready and I just wanted to let you know that we’ve got everything we need and it’s all ready to go for when it comes time to pay.”

“Good. Now,” she turned to look at you, “this is a meeting we cannot be late for so I’d appreciate it if you could have everything ready for us so there are no delays. I don’t want any excuses.”

You nodded, stifling the small laugh before it could make it out of your mouth, “Of course, Mrs. Allen.”

But as always, Mr. Allen was dawdling. You did remind him of the meeting but he assured you he was going to be on time. He wasn’t. You weren’t surprised.

When it was time to leave he was still in his office in his slippers on his third cup of coffee talking to his brother about sports.

“I told you this is a meeting we cannot be late for. This is unacceptable!” Mrs. Allen was red in the face as she barked at you. Somehow, she always seemed shocked when her husband held things up. You didn’t know how it was possible that she was so surprised.

You blinked your eyes and sighed, “He doesn’t need to be at the meeting with us. I say we just go. He’ll be fine here by himself.”

She nodded and mumbled under her breath about your incompetence, “Tell him we’re leaving without him. I’m going to get the driver to pull the car around.”

You poked your head into the office and waved at Mr. Allen and he pulled the phone from his ear to look at you with his brows raised. As if he didn’t know what was going on.

“We’re going to leave now for the painting. You can stay behind. No need for you to be there. Okay?”

He smiled at you and nodded before getting back to his call. You knew he didn’t care. This painting wasn’t for him. It was for Mrs. Allen. It was something she’d been wanting. She’d just hang it up alongside the rest of her collection of exotic animal paintings and artwork.

The car ride was silent. Which you preferred. You tried not speaking to Mrs. Allen when you could help it. Luckily she wasn’t interested in having a conversation with you.

And 30 minutes later when you arrived, your mind was swirling with thoughts of what could happen and what probably wouldn’t.

Your nerves were all over the place. If you were about to walk into a room with Harry Styles, being nervous was warranted. You hadn’t seen his handsome face in so long and wanted so badly for it to be him.

It was unlikely. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. No reason to get your hopes up.

You and Mrs. Allen got out of the car once the driver had let you both out at the front.

It was a public gallery so everyone could just walk in to admire the art. You noticed there were people inside looking at the sculptures and paintings as you followed behind Mrs. Allen toward the desk at the side of the room where a young woman sat.

“Hi. I’m Delia Allen here for a meeting to view the Ghaui piece.”

The young woman smiled widely, “Yes. Of course! Just follow me. We have it moved into a special viewing room just for you.”

If there was ever a moment in your life where you thought that one small step toward a physical room could forever change your life, it was this. What if he was there? What if he wasn’t?

The gallery wasn’t a large space but there were temporary walls placed around the room to act as dividers and a spot for more art to hang. You wove around the walls and into a hallway where the young woman stepped into a room with Mrs. Allen just behind her. You paused for a moment before stepping inside. This was it. It either was or it wasn’t.

Placing your hand on the frame of the door and taking a deep breath you breached the space to enter the viewing room and found that there was no one else inside. It was the painting that Mrs. Allen had been so keen on buying, hung up with lights aimed at it, a table and chairs.

You didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t this. You imagined someone would be inside the room waiting for you.

“The dealer will be right in. He’s finishing up something with someone else. Five minutes tops.”

The painting was of elephants in an African wildlife scene. It wasn’t your taste but you had to respect Mrs. Allen for her interests. If there was anything about her you could say you liked, it was her love of animals and how much support she’d given African wildlife sanctuaries. She’d also gone on many safaris (without Mr. Allen you learned) and helped fund conservation parks that helped employ people and protect the land and animals. Honestly, when you found out this was her thing you felt like you were looking at a different woman.

She was still a bitch, though.

“I thought this meeting was set up and ready to go, Y/n,” she turned to look at you. As if somehow the dealer running late was your fault.

“It is set and ready. The girl said the dealer would be right in. We just need to wait a couple of minutes.”

You didn’t look at her face as you responded. You were done looking at her face. After this meeting, you’d never have to look at it again.

“Sergi could’ve come if I knew this was going to happen.”

You rolled your eyes, back facing her as you looked over the lines and the paint on the canvas. It was a well-done piece of art.

When the door opened only a moment later you felt your heart stop for a split second, a chill ran down your face, over your shoulders, and through your spine as you slowly turned around when Mrs. Allen spoke, “Finally.”

Your vision grew spotty, like tiny particles floating around and mixing up the scene before you. Fuzzy like a grey screen on a television. You blinked your eyes to clear your sight as you looked at him for the first time in over 9 months. It was him.

And his reaction to you appeared much the same, with him pausing in the doorway, mouth agape, eyes wide.

“Hello? Are you the dealer?” Mrs. Allen was great at ruining a moment.

Harry’s eyes blinked as he shook his head and finally peeled his sight from you to look at the other woman in the room. He cleared his throat, closing the door behind himself, and stepped forward to Mrs. Allen with his hand out, “Yes. I’m the dealer. Harry Styles,” he shook her hand and then shot his eyes back to you, taking in your outfit quickly before moving toward you, his hand outstretched in silence.

You hadn’t moved from your spot next to the painting. You hadn’t closed your mouth or peeped a single word because you couldn’t. And even though you had a feeling that it was him before the meeting ever took place, the surprise and shock you felt was overwhelming.

It was really him. It was Harry. And you couldn’t believe it was him.

You placed your hand in his to shake and the moment was eternity. Your eyes pinned together, palms warm to the touch, searching gazes, and a million little thoughts dancing around your heads. It was real. He was real. You were real. The moment was real.

But of course, as Mrs. Allen tended to do she interrupted the odd reunion and began speaking, “Please go over the details with me. I think I’d like to know a little more and then we can talk price.”

Harry’s adam’s apple bobbed as he released your hand and straightened his posture and he handed a folder to Mrs. Allen and began to go over everything she might want to know.

Your heart was racing and you were unable to listen to anything he said regarding the painting. It all sounded like gibberish to you but you could hear his smooth deep voice as he spoke, and the occasional glance in your direction had your skin sparking in delight.

“Earth to Y/n,” Mrs. Allen waved her hand in front of your face and you slowly drifted from your reverie back to reality and looked at her.

“Jesus, it’s like herding cats with you,” she pointed, “Let’s get this part ready. Open your laptop.”

You reached into your bag and pulled out your laptop, placing it on the table so you could begin the wire payment. You looked from Mrs. Allen to Harry and then back to your screen as the bank sight loaded.

Of course, you had to log in and the internet connection wasn’t as fast as you’d have liked so Mrs. Allen let out an annoyed sigh.

“Always like this with her,” she looked at Harry with her arms crossed, “Slow. Lazy–“

“Are you serious?” Harry sounded perturbed. Aghast.

You looked from him to Mrs. Allen and the look on his face matched the sound of his voice as he looked at her with disdain.

“Of course I am. You don’t know her so you have no idea what–“

“I do actually know her,” he glanced at you softening his gaze. “Don’t speak about her that way or the deal is off.”

You blinked and smiled gently as you opened up the bank wire screen.

“What? You can’t treat me like this. I’m a paying client. I will walk out of here without this painting if you dare–“

“Then leave.” He looked at her with his brows raised in a dare.

She huffed and clutched her purse, “Fine. Just… do the deal, Y/n. I’ll be right back. I need to use the restroom and get some air. When I return I want this to be over with.”

She walked out of the room and slammed the door rudely and Harry stepped in front of the computer as you looked up at him, “Y/n. I can’t believe it’s you. Are you working for her?”

You stood up straight and nodded, “Yeah. It’s a disaster. I’m quitting as soon as this is over. It’s been my plan for a month.”

He smiled, “You’re quitting? Now?”

You nodded again, “Yes. As soon as this deal is complete I’m done.”

“Can I see you? Like, after this? Dinner maybe?”

You sputtered a tiny laugh. It was like music to your ears, “Okay. Why not?”

Harry grinned widely and pointed at the computer, “Let’s get this over with then. Push that payment through and let’s get out of here.”

There it was again, the blurred vision, grey and colored specs floating around you as if you were in the grey screen of a TV. You couldn’t believe it. Perhaps it was only a dream. Perhaps you were about to wake up and it was all going to have been just a wild dream that you’d never recover from.

You called the bank with a smile on your face to begin the wire transfer. Everything was set as you entered the details into the account on your laptop and spoke with the representative.

But of course, there was one thing holding the whole thing up. Mrs. Allen had to be there to verbally give the go-ahead to the man on the phone. You were not authorized.

So when she came back to the room and the payment wasn’t yet completed she was furious, “How can you mess up the simplest things, Y/n?”

“All you need to do is tell the man this wire transfer from your bank to the owner’s is authorized. You’re holding this up. Not her,” Harry spoke.

She pulled the cell phone from you with a sigh and spoke into the receiver as you smiled at Harry.

“There. It’s done.” She handed the phone to you and the transaction was finalized. Emails went out to all the parties involved in the sale with the receipt and you closed your laptop.

“Good. Now, have someone wrap this so I can bring it back without getting scratched.”

Harry nodded, “I’ll have Laira get someone for you and they’ll bring it to your car.”

Mrs. Allen looked at you and snapped her fingers, “You can go wait in the car for me. No need to have you standing around and gawking like an idiot.”

You stuffed your laptop into your bag and looked at Mrs. Allen, “Delia?” You made it a point to call her by her first name, which you knew she hated, “I quit. Working for you has been hell. You’ll go home without me as I’ve already made other arrangements. Tell Mr. Allen it was lovely to work for him. I’ll send him an email explaining why I quit tomorrow. Also, the agency won’t work with you again after I share details and proof of the way you treated me.”

Her mouth dropped open and the look of surprise on her face was quite hilarious as you pushed passed her with Harry following behind you.

You felt exhilarated and your heart was pumping blood through your body and your limbs rapidly as you smiled and made your way to the front of the gallery.

Harry kept in step with you as he waved at the girl at the desk, “Please help Mrs. Allen get the painting wrapped and put into her car. I’m done for the day. Call me if you need anything.”

You felt the warm air hit your cheeks when you stepped outside into the sun with Harry behind you.

“Y/n, I’m still kind of in disbelief that you’re here. I must be dreaming,” he turned toward you with a wide grin.

“I feel the same way. Like I’m just going to wake up and it’s all been a dream.”

“Pinch me,” he put his arm out and pushed his shirt sleeve up to his forearm, displaying the tattoos on his skin.

You laughed and put your thumb and pointer over his skin and gave him a good pinch and he let out a deep breath, “Do it again.”

You couldn’t stop the small chuckle that fell from your lips as you pinched him again and he grabbed the tops of your arms tightly, “Y/n I’ve missed you so much. I’ve wanted to talk to you so many times. I have so much to tell you.”

“Me too, Harry. There’s so much to say.”

He led you to his car and you both got inside. It felt so surreal to be climbing into Harry’s car with him, “Where would like to go eat?” He looked at you from the driver’s seat as he started up his car.

You shook your head, “I don’t know. Don’t care really.”

He nodded, “Yeah I don’t care either. Just as long as I get to go there with you. Okay, we’ll go to this spot I found some months ago. They have great crab cakes.”

When he pulled out to the street you looked at him, “New car then?”

He nodded, “Yeah. The lease came up on the other one and figured something different would be nice. I’ve had this for a few months.”

“And did you move?”

He licked his lips and glanced at you, “Yeah. Not long after you left. A lot has happened since you’ve been gone. I… did a lot of thinking about what I want in life and how I want to live it. The place was too big. Not sustainable for me any longer. Too expensive.”

“Really? That’s surprising.”

He breathed out through his nose as he nodded, “I stopped dealing with stolen items. It was dumb of me to get involved in all that in the first place. I never started off being an art dealer with the idea that I would be wealthy. It began because I genuinely love the art world and discovering new pieces. I lost that somewhere along the way and you leaving like you did remind me of what was important in life. Money is not all there is.”

You were surprised to hear this. It made you wonder what else had changed.

The restaurant was a small, hip-looking spot. You had both arrived before the dinner crowd, it was still a bit early for dinner, but to you, it didn’t matter. You were with Harry again and even though you weren’t quite sure what to expect things were going better than you imagined.

You and Harry were seated at a small round table for two by a big window looking out over the parking lot. It wasn’t fancy but it felt amazing to get face to face with him after all that time.

“Y/n, I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you look incredible. I know I said it already but I really missed you. I hope you and I can keep in touch after this. If that’s something you wanted. It would mean so much to me to be able to see you again.”

You picked at the corner of the laminated menu that had been placed on the table in front of you and looked up at him, “Harry, I missed you a lot too. I regretted the way I ended things. Moving away and blocking you. I thought it was the right thing to do. I deleted every part of you from my life and by the time I realized it was a mistake I didn’t have your contacts anymore,” you shook your head as you looked into his eyes, “I’m sorry I did it that way. I’m sorry for walking away from you.”

Harry reached across the table and put his hand over yours, “I’m glad you did. Y/n, I don’t know if I would have had the kind of self-reflection and epiphany I did if you’d stayed. But you leaving like that made me rethink everything I thought was important. Made me realize that dealing in the black market and jet-setting all over the world to do something that goes against my very core… I hated it. I hated you leaving but it opened my eyes.”

“So you really don’t do any of that anymore?”

He shook his head, “No. Now I bounce around from gallery to gallery to view pieces and check the legitimacy, the provenance. I work for myself still but now I’m not making as much money. Which is fine!” He laughed, dimples digging into his cheeks, “It’s better this way. I sleep better knowing I’m doing things right now.”

“Where do you live now?”

“Like twenty minutes from here. Bought a regular-sized house with a garage and an ugly entryway,” he grinned, “But I love it. I love it because it makes me feel happy. It’s not so much to maintain. Had to let go of all the staff I had but other than that, I haven’t missed the income as much as I thought I would.”

You were impressed with him. You never imagined he’d stop dealing in illegal items because you knew the money was so good.

The waiter stood at your table and you both told him what you’d like to drink. A sparkling water with lemon for you, and a hot black tea for him.

“So you were working for that woman. She’s awful. How long did you stay with her?”

You laughed and shook your head, “I worked for the Allens for just over seven months. Hated every minute of it. She only got worse as time went on. I thought once she got used to me she’d lighten up be she was truly evil. Would just talk down to me and blame me for everything that went wrong.”

“Why did you stay there for so long?”

“At first I stayed hoping it would get better. You know you kind of get into a groove and can look past bullshit and then everyone starts to get used to one another. But that never happened. I tried to stick it out. But then of course I needed the money too. Well, on some level. The security of having a job is nice and the rent at my new house is a lot more than what I paid at my apartment. Figured I’d wait for the right moment. Then about a month ago I found out that Delia wanted to buy this piece of art she’d been wanting and she was going to go through a dealer and I was just about to quit. I really was but,” you shrugged and smiled as you looked down at the menu, “Though it would be funny if maybe you were the dealer,” you brought your eyes back up to him.

He squinted, his brows pulling in as he looked at you, “You continued working for them when you thought maybe I was going to be the dealer on the sale? So you could see me?”

You nodded and smiled, “I mean. Sort of. I really didn’t think it was going to be you but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to just see. So I stuck it out. My plan was to quit the moment the deal was over. That’s why I was saying that at the gallery. It was like, one last thing, just to see if it was you and then I was done working for them.”

Harry laughed and pulled his lips into his mouth, shaking his head in amazement, “I can’t believe you wanted to see me. I was certain you were done and wanted nothing to do with me. I did go back to your apartment one day, maybe like two months later. But you’d already moved out. And you never responded to any of my texts or calls. Figured that was that. What made you want to see me?”

You tried not to feel bad how you ended things with him but it was hard not to, “I really did like you. It was just hard for me to admit how much. And then Brandy, my best friend, talked me into going to therapy. And honestly? Just talking about how I process things and my emotions with someone else helped me a ton. Helped me see how I self-sabotage. Anything that might make me happy, specifically romance, was a big block for me. I didn’t even realize it consciously. I think I knew I pushed people away when I didn’t need to. And I realized I did that with you.”

Harry nodded as he listened and the waiter placed your drinks down on the table before taking your orders for food.

It felt like you had so much to tell him and you could see Harry felt the same with everything he admitted to you. You loved listening to him and watching him as he spoke or the way he gazed at you as you recounted the last 9 months to him.

While so much did happen in those 9 months, you felt comfortable sitting at that small table talking to Harry about it all. Everything felt so familiar and nice with him. It felt like you were both exactly on the same page and this time around maybe you could really have something special with him. If he wanted the same thing as you.

“So you missed me? What did you miss about me?” Harry smirked at you as he took a scoop of the dessert you were both sharing.

“Hmm… I think I liked it when you were nice to me and vulnerable with me. Our late-night kitchen chats. How you took up for me with that one lady. And even today you did it again with Mrs. Allen. I think there were times when I hated you but mostly I liked you. And those things I missed.”

His smirk didn’t fall from his lips and it looked like he was holding back what he wanted to say.

“What? What’s that look?” You pointed your fork at him.

Harry laughed and looked down at the table before putting his eyes back on yours, “You didn’t miss… like my body or something?”

You laughed and grinned at him, “Oh my god, Harry,” you rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“I mean you have to admit, Y/n, we are very good together. Aren’t we? Like… just fit so well me and you.”

You inhaled and let your eyes trail over his features as you tried to keep the grin off your face.

“You’re insane.” You licked your lips.

“No, I’m not. You know it’s true. Tell me you’ve had better with anyone else and I’ll tell you you’re lying. You missed me but you also missed all those dirty little things I did to you.”

“You’re way too confident and cocky still,” you laughed.

“Am I?” His smile was something that always got you. The grin, the dimples, the crinkles at the edge of his eyes.

“What do you want me to say, Harry? That I missed little Styles down there?” You sputtered a laugh.

“Little? Is that what you’d call it?” He placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward closer to you, “You said otherwise when–“

“Anything else for you two?” The waiter broke the tension as Harry shot his eyes up to the man.

“I think we’ll take the check. Thank you.”

You laughed as the server walked away and Harry cocked his head with that smirk still plastered on his face.

The sun was beginning to go down as the check was laid on the table and you insisted on splitting it with Harry. He grumped about you paying anything at all but you weren’t taking no for an answer.

You were surprised you’d been at the restaurant for so long. Hours had gone by but it didn’t feel that long because you two had so much to talk about. So much lost time to make up for.

“So where do you live, Y/n? Should I drop you off at home?”

You bit your lip and shrugged, “Not too far from here. Off Coalfax and the interstate. Do you want to drop me off?”

Harry’s smile softened, “I don’t want to drop you off. No. I want to continue this. I’m not ready for you to disappear again.”

Swallowing you reached your hand toward his and rubbed your fingers over his knuckles, “Then you don’t have to drop me off. Come with me. I’ll invite you in.”

Harry stood up quickly, taking your hand in his as you both walked to the exit and toward his car. You laughed as he pulled you along.

“Coalfax? Just North of here?” He spoke as he started up his car.

“Yeah. Exactly. You’ll take a right on Coalfax. I’ll tell you where to go.”

Harry kept glancing at you and the smile on his face stayed throughout the entire drive. You were sure he was feeling the kind of excitement you had bubbling in your tummy. Still not quite sure of what to expect but nearly certain of what could happen.

Maybe you were jumping in too fast but maybe… just maybe the timing was exactly right. You couldn’t tell but you weren’t going to let yourself overthink it. That wasn’t going to happen with you anymore. You already regretted too much of what had happened with Harry and this time would be different.

Harry parked his car on the street in front of your small house and you both walked up to your door, “You’ve still got the same car,” he noted.

“Yup. Runs well. No payment other than insurance. Cheap maintenance. I love the old thing. Hope I never have to get rid of it.”

Harry followed behind you through your front door and you switched on the light before you felt his hand tugging at yours.

You turned to face him and the reality of everything was clear suddenly. You’d reconnected with Harry. The one man you couldn’t stop thinking about. Couldn’t stop replaying his words to you, couldn’t stop imagining the way he kissed you and took care of you.

“I can’t believe you’re standing here in my living room,” you smiled at him and Harry shook his head.

“I can’t believe I’m here either. I can’t believe I’m looking at you and that you were there today and…” he swallowed as he squeezed your hand, “I don’t want to scare you off, Y/n, but you have no idea how happy I am right now. How this all feels like destiny. Like we were meant to be here right now.”

You laughed through your nose, “I don’t really believe in stuff like that, but it doesn’t kind of feel that way, doesn’t it? Like another chance.”

He nodded, “Another chance. Exactly.”

“Do you want to sit? Or would you like some wine?”

Harry looked around the space of your living room. He hadn’t taken his surroundings in until then as he was too focused on you.

“Maybe a glass of wine. If it’s not too much trouble.”

You grinned, “Of course it’s not. Come. It’s in the kitchen.”

The light flickered on overhead as you flipped the switch and then opened your cabinet to retrieve the bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Y/n, this place is really nice. I like it.” Harry looked around as he spoke.

“I like it too. It’s why I moved here. Felt like home when I walked in to view it for the first time. It’s just a rental but it’s perfect for me.”

You placed the bottle on the counter and handed him a glass of wine.

Harry held his glass up, “Thank you for inviting me in and for humoring me with your kindness.”

You laughed, “Humoring you? Harry, I am fully genuine right now. I wanted to have dinner with you and I wanted you to come into my home. I’m not just being nice. I want you here.”

“I like hearing that.”

You both took a sip of your wine as Harry kept his eyes on you.

It was warm. Searing hot in fact. Harry was gorgeous and he was in your house and he was looking at you with those green eyes that had looked at you so many times before.

“Have you…” He paused as he placed his glass down and cleared his throat, “Have you seen anyone since? Like dated? Are you dating?”

You laughed at the way he fumbled his words. He seemed nervous suddenly, “No. I haven’t.” You placed your own glass down and suddenly felt that flutter of nerves, “And… I’m a little nervous to ask you the same.” You raised your brows at him.

He shook his head, “No.”

You nodded, “Surprised to hear that. But relieved I have to admit.”

“Why are you surprised?”

“Because I thought you’d have your pick. In fact even today when I thought there was a chance I might see you, felt like it was silly because surely you’d moved on and found someone.”

Harry’s brows stitched together, “I had a hard time feeling okay after that day when I left your apartment. Have actually never been so depressed and distraught over anyone before. I couldn’t just move on. Even when I started to feel a little better about it all. I just missed you so much. I know you blocked me on every platform out there. I got the hint when you didn’t text or call back. But I still missed you.”

You smiled, “And you’re not on social media at all. I did look but I kind of felt like if I did find you it wouldn’t have been good for me. I know I could have tried harder to reach out. I think I was a little scared of what I’d find.”

“What did you think you’d find?”

“That you were dating someone. I don’t know.”

The air shifted when Harry brought his hand up to your chin and gently gripped your face, “You’re the only woman I’ve had my mind on all these months. The only one I could ever think about. I don’t want anyone else.”

Your lips parted and you blinked your eyes as you took in his words.

“Do you understand what I mean? I don’t know if you feel the same way about me but just to know that you missed me and want me to be here with you right now means everything to me.”

“I don’t want anyone else either, Harry.”

“Does that mean you want me? I just need to hear it if it’s true, Y/n.”

You gulped and nodded, “Yeah. I do.”

The hand that held your chin released you and moved around to the back of your neck while his other hand landed on your hip and he pressed his lips to yours.

At last. At last.

You closed your eyes and drew your hands up to the back of his neck and moaned as he opened his mouth and you opened yours. Lips winding and smearing and pushing…

It felt like you were looking down at yourself, watching as you kissed Harry in your kitchen. And it was a beautiful sight. The two of you joined, grasping onto the other, hearts thrashing in your chests, bodies alight.

Harry’s grip on your side tightened, his fingers pinching around your clothes. The hand at the back of your neck squeezing and holding you in place as his lips slid against yours

You allowed yourself to be pulled in closer and moved your hand into his curls. You missed his scent. You missed his touch. His warmth. His care.

He parted from the kiss and moved his hand to your jaw, “Can we start over? This time, Y/n, you’re not going to regret it. This is it for us. Understand me?”

His words were almost a threat. Or maybe a promise. Both perhaps.

“Yes, Harry. I’m not going to regret it this time. I promise.”

He nodded, still holding you close, and then softly ghosted his lips over yours, “Because I can’t lose you again. I want this with you.”

You were gonna lose it. Everything was too much and not enough. You wanted him and you wanted to go slow but you wanted to tear his clothes off and feel him all over.

“I want you, Harry,” you breathed out against his lips as you clung to him, “I want this with you.”

You felt the vibration of his moan against your mouth as he dropped his lips to your chin and then along the curve of your jaw. When his lips pressed into the skin on your neck you gasped and hugged him tighter. His mouth drew your flesh in as he sucked a spot and then lowered to the curve of your shoulder and neck, suckling again at the skin where you knew it would be bruised.

“Fuck…” he whispered as he pressed his nose against your jaw, “Where’s your bedroom, Y/n?”

That was easy. The house was small. You led him down the hallway to your bedroom where you turned on your lamp and he began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Take your clothes off.”

You were surprised by his sudden command but you didn’t want to ask questions. The only thing you wanted was him and his hands and his body…

You pulled off your top before unzipping your skirt and kicking it down your legs. Harry’s eyes were dark as he continued taking his clothes off while he watched you undress.

When you were only in your underwear and bra he pointed, “Off. All of it.”

You swallowed and did as he said. Taking your bra off first and then your panties slowly as you used your bed to keep balance.

Harry was left in only his boxer briefs as he stalked toward you like a predator. You’d seen him in action before, you’d seen him a little dominant but this was different. It was like he had something to prove.

“On the bed, Y/n.”

You gave him a curt nod and sat down before scooting back into your bed. He climbed between your legs and moved your thighs apart, “You want this right? You want me? Want us?” He looked at you.

You nodded, “Yes, Harry. I do.”

That seemed like all he needed to know before he finally placed his lips on your chubby thigh, dotting wet kisses down and toward the soft inside near to your crotch and then he switched to the other side, kissing upward gently as he looked at you and then gripped the back of your thighs to push your legs apart, switching his sight from your face to your pussy.

“Y/n I missed everything about you,” he lowered himself, putting his stomach down onto your bed as he held himself over your core, “I know I only had you twice like this but I missed your body. Your smell,” he let go of your left leg as he pressed his fingers onto your mound and slowly dragged them downward, “The way your thighs part and how your skin looks right here,” he pressed a kiss over the spot right next to your labia.

But then he pushed himself up and climbed over you releasing your leg, his hands finding your breasts, “Your perfect tits,” his lips wrapped around your nipple, tongue laving over your sensitive bud and kissing over your soft skin toward your other side, lapping at your plush breasts before dragging his mouth upward to your neck, “Your skin, your voice,” hot peppered kisses up to your jaw until his mouth met yours again.

“Your mouth, this mouth,” he licked against your lips and pushed his mouth against the edge of yours and ran his nose against yours, “You. I missed you. Everything. Your heart and your laugh. I can’t do it again. I can’t go through that again.”

You felt his hands on your face, cupping your cheeks as he looked down at you, “Don’t leave me. Not ever again.”

You shook your head and lifted a hand up to his jaw, “Never. I don’t want to, Harry. I won’t.”

He grinned dreamily at you, his eyes wandering over your features slowly before he lowered himself down your body again, pressing his shoulders to the back of your thighs, and hooked his arms underneath to keep you in place.

The moment you felt his mouth on your core you clenched your eyelids closed and sighed. It had meant so much to you to have him loving on you, touching you, needing you. And Harry was the only man who’d ever worked an orgasm out of you with his mouth.

And even then, his tongue dragging through your pussylips and up to your clit, over and over again in a teasing, slow build it had you unwinding and unfolding for him. You wanted to give yourself to him fully. And that felt so good.

It felt good to trust yourself for once. To allow yourself to trust him. You could push past your feelings of inadequacy and thinking that no one would actually want you for you. Because that was a lie. You had been lying to yourself for so long and even though you knew it was your own hangup, it was hard to get past it. Until now. Because now you weren’t going to undermine yourself anymore. You learned it was okay to question motives but that it was also okay to accept kindness and love where it was offered.

You felt as he applied open-mouthed kisses to your clit and finally began to push over it, the pressure and the slide of his tongue right where you needed him had you moaning. Had you getting his face all wet.

Harry’s mouth and tongue worked at you strategically; slow teases of a gentle lap at your bud and then a harsh suck and flick to make you shiver. Every wet drag of his muscle against your clit drew you closer to your end as you gave in to the feeling.

And just like the other times he’d eaten you out you reached down to push your fingers into his hair and arched your back into him as a signal for him to keep doing exactly what he was doing. And he seemed to understand your nonverbal cue as he dug in and continued lapping and sucking exactly like you liked.

He watched your tits wobble and your body jerk and convulse as he kept his mouth suctioned to your pussy with his tongue wagging and slicking over your puffy clit until he felt you pressing his head down further and you coughed out a loud groan when your thighs started to shake.

His moans into your pussy vibrated through to your guts and it felt like you were going to explode.

“Fuck, Harry!” You were grinding yourself into his mouth and nose as you felt your release snap and you lost control of your volume and the sound of your voice and your limbs as he held you down so he could press broad strokes of his tongue over your pussy back and forth.

Harry closed his eyes and let you use his face and mouth to grind your clit on as you orgasmed. His cock was so hard; just tasting you and hearing your gasps and pleas of need had him spinning in the clouds. It made him happy to hear how good he was making you feel.

And that’s what he wanted the most. Was to make you happy. He wanted your smiles and laughter. He wanted you to enjoy his company and to feel happy with him. He wanted your heart and your soul and everything that made you who you were because he’d already decided he’d give you everything he could. His heart was yours already.

Ever since that day you kicked him out of your apartment, he hadn’t stopped thinking about all the things he did wrong. How childish he’d been with you. He hadn’t meant to fuck up so badly but he would make sure that his old ways were in the past. Now he was yours and he would prove to you that you could trust him.

When you gently released his hair and pushed yourself up to look at him he lifted with a grin, “Felt good?” His mouth and chin were glistening with you.

You laughed and nodded as you watched him slide his underwear down his sturdy thighs and toss them onto the floor. His body was even better than before. You weren’t sure why. Maybe he’d been hitting the gym harder. Or maybe it was just that now things were different. And you were seeing him in a different light. Looking at him in a way that you never had before. But you were still focused on his strong build and dark tattoos as well. That glorious cock, bobbing and heavy was all yours. You loved the way he felt inside of you and how perfect it looked hanging between his thighs like it was.

You sat up and got to your knees to adjust yourself and laid a palm on his thigh as you looked at him and licked your lips. He understood your hint as you moved your hand up toward his cock and he looked down at your fingers before placing his hand over yours, “We’ll do that later. Plenty of time to get to all that. I just want to make love to you, Y/n.”

“But you ate me out. I should at least–“

“No. Later,” he got to his knees and pushed you gently back to your bottom, “You don’t understand. I can’t wait one more second to be inside of you. We’ll have plenty of time for that other stuff but I haven’t had sex since in 9 months. If you put your mouth anywhere near my cock it’s gonna make me come too fast. A little out of practice,” he smiled with a small laugh as you laid your back into the mattress and he settled himself between your legs, hips tucking against yours.

You could feel his rigid, girthy cock slide through your labia as he rolled his hips down and up, wetting his shaft, “Want to fuck you now. Okay?”

You moaned and nodded. It was okay by you. You knew there’d be time for blowjobs later so you didn’t mind having him inside your cunt, stuffing you to the brim like you knew he would. There was plenty of time for all that, now that you weren’t going to be running off from him again.

“Want this cock, honey?” He continued rocking his hips. Sliding himself up and down, the tip of his cock collecting your arousal and pushing it up to your clit.

“Yes, Harry. Please.” You bucked upward to catch him at your entrance but he pressed your hip down and grinned at you playfully.

“Love hearing you say please. Such a good girl for me.”

You groaned when he wouldn’t push in right away, still teasing you with the drag of his thick shaft up and down through your labia and against your clit. The sound of it was lewd. Filthy.

“Please fuck me!” You whined.

Harry paused his motions, keeping his eyes on yours as he reared back and took his base in his palm to line himself up to your hole. He kept one hand on the inside of your thigh as he began to press himself inward slowly, the snap of his bulbous head entering you and pushing through your walls was the first act of confirming everything.

Confirming that this was it. That now you were connected and there was no turning back. That all the promises spoken were sealed.

You both kept your eyes pinned on one another as he bottomed out, balls tucked against your ass with a whimper from his mouth and a deep sigh of relief.

He slowly pulled back before inching his way back into the hilt and repeated his languid strokes as your wet pussy blossomed and opened wide for his girth until he was rocking down into you with a force that had your tits bouncing and harsh breaths punching from your lungs.

Harry’s strong abs clenched as his thighs flexed, working into you, exacting strokes deep into your cunt and skin colliding every time you felt the dip of his crown nudging into your tummy.

He sat back to his haunches, knees bent with the back of your thighs draped over the top of his. He watched as he sunk into you and pulled back to his tip, his shaft glistening and coated in you before he thrust back in until you were gasping and reaching for his arms to keep yourself grounded. To remind yourself of who’s cock was fucking you so good.

“Love this pussy, Y/n. You take me so well. So fucking juicy and plush,” he pounded into you, putting everything he had into it, muscles working and pushing him further and further as you bounced upward on the mattress every time he crashed into you.

“Hear that, baby?” Harry used a hand to squeeze at your tit, “Your bed squeaking, your pussy creamy and wet around me, those desperate whimpers from these pretty lips?” He pushed his hand up to your mouth, pressing his thumb to your bottom lip.

You moaned in response and nodded as you stitched your brows together in bliss.

“That’s right. That’s the sound of me fucking you and we’re gonna do it again and again and again. Yeah?” He spoke through clenched teeth.

You nodded, “Fuck! Yes, Harry!” Your words were punched from your lungs as he continued railing ito you, his hips rocking against yours.

Your whole being was lit up. From your racing mind to your tingling skin and toes, the bones that kept you solid, your pumping heart, and your pussy gripping onto Harry’s fat cock as he slid into you, back and forth, bumping through your inside walls into that hard-to-reach little dip that had you breathless.

Every stroke he gave you put you closer and closer to your second orgasm. The delicious emergence and unraveling of your end made you delirious.

When he leaned himself over you he thrust down harshly, pushing your thighs wider apart, the sound gushy and slick as he drove into you. You could feel his cock sliding through your guts and his pelvis grinding against your clit making you quiver.

“Oh my god…” you panted as you reached up for his shoulders where you could feel the taught muscle keeping himself up and aligned as he fucked into you, your back digging into the mattress underneath.

“Yeah? Feels good huh? Told you we fit together perfectly. Pussy deserves to be filled and stuffed every day. Want you to feel so good, baby…”

“It’s so fucking good,” your whimpered words were shaky and breathy.

“I know baby… So good… gonna give it to you every fucking day like this. Make love to you and treat you like a queen. Be so good to you…” his strained words were breathy as he was feeling the heat with you.

His lips pressed into yours and your brain short-circuited as you fell into that hazy, floaty space of ecstasy and need. Need for Harry and his body and his heart. Need for happiness with him. The need to feel happiness with someone you could trust.

When you sucked on his tongue and he rocked into you, keeping his hips smoothe against yours you began to whine and moan as your orgasm approached.

But then Harry stopped. He pulled back from the kiss and looked down at you with that evil grin you’d seen before and you gasped at the loss. You had just been on the cusp of coming.

He quickly pulled out as his own chest was rising and falling rapidly, his cock swayed and you pushed yourself up to see what was happening before he grabbed your sides and rolled you over to your tummy.

“Harry!” You yelped at the sudden maneuver and felt his palm land harshly on your bum. And then again and again. You jumped and crooned out as he issued your ass a handful of spankings to each side and then heard him moan when he kneaded into the meat of your bottom as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You suddenly felt him pushing your legs apart and fitting himself between them as he forced his hard cock back into your wet pussy, his heavy tip pushing past your small opening and you gasped at the suddenness of it all.

You moaned at the relief of finally having him tucked back inside. He slid through you smoothly, his hands holding your ass cheeks apart as he worked himself in over and over. You had your face smushed into the blankets as you sighed.

His hips rocked against your ass and you could feel him swiveling himself in every time his balls pressed into your skin, grounding himself deep through your tummy. The sounds he was making had you grinning. It felt just as good for him. He needed your body for relief. You were happy to let him get whatever he needed from you.

Slow languid strokes of his long cock, splitting you open with every thrust felt so good. It reminded you of how big he really was. How bulky and long his cock was as it disappeared inside of you and nudged its way into your depths.

“Stick your fingers over your clit, Y/n. Go on baby.”

You gurgled a moan and lifted your hips slightly to allow your right hand access to your pussy. And it was more relief. The feel of it all coming together was perfection. His fat cock taking up every inch of your insides, his tip crashing through your guts, the weight of him behind you and fucking you into the mattress, and your fingers on your clit, slipping and pressing…

Harry gave himself a moment to bask in the view of his cock spreading your vagina apart. He dragged a thumb over the spot where he was fucking into you, feeling himself move in and out, watching your pussy wrapped around him, glistening wet until he felt his balls tightening and constricting and your walls clamping down over him.

He could see your hips moving faster as you ground over your hand to get to your orgasm but then he pulled at your hand, moving your fingers away from your clit and you felt his chest against your back and his lips against the shell of your ear as he mumbled something you couldn’t quite hear.

It caught you off guard. The second denial of your orgasm. You angled your neck to try and turn toward him, “Harry, what?”

You felt him press his cock in hard, hips stilling against your ass, his lips pressed over your ear, “Put your fingers back on your clit but don’t move them til I say.”

In confusion, you slid your hand back to your core and he continued, “Good.”

He reared back and then thrust forward again, “Do you want to come, Y/n? Wanna come on my cock?”

You moaned a yes as you secretly slid a finger across your bud making you shiver.

“Then tell me you’re mine. Say you’re mine, Y/n, and I’ll let you come.”

You had no hesitation in telling him just that, “Harry I’m yours. I’m yours…”

“My girl. That’s right. Rub your pussy, baby. Get yourself off,” his breathy words were warm over your ear and neck as you began to slip your fingers back and forth to get you back to that spot that would have you tipping over the edge.

Then you felt Harry shift behind, his chest no longer pressed into your back as he started pounding into you, “Fucking come, baby. You’re mine now…”

You grinned in elation at his words and the way he sounded totally fucked out himself. Much like the way you were feeling. Like he was out of his mind with lust for you.

Every smack of his hips into your bum had you jolting up and you ground down into your hand, rolling your clit over whatever you could reach when you started to feel that melting, unraveling sensation. The electrical charge that made your pussy quiver and your back arch and your vision go white.

“There it is! Fuck!” Harry’s thrusts were harsh but every stroke felt like a sparking and exhilarating charge going through your body. His tip plunged into your cervix and fingers gripped your bottom harshly as you heard him choke out a loud moan.

“Gonna fill you fill you up baby… fuck… stuff you with my come…”

You could hardly hear your bed creaking and clanking as your ears began to ring and you gushed around Harry, your walls spasming and constricting around him tightly.

He moved into you, gliding in and out until finally his balls squeezed and pumped sperm through his cock directly into your wet hole. He stilled his hips as he whimpered a groan, throwing his neck back with his mouth dropped open, his cock throbbing inside of you, coating your walls with his come.

It seemed to last forever. He moaned and twitched, his body connected and pressed into yours as he drained every bit of himself into you. He pressed inward further, stuffing your pussy with his come, making sure every bit of it seeped through your cunt and soaked your insides.

He hadn’t had sex in 9 months. Jerking himself off didn’t do it like the real thing and when it was with you it was even better. The best. He hadn’t come so hard ever in his life he was certain as his body flushed in heat and his heart thudded wildly in his chest when he crumpled over your back, tucking his arms around you and kissing your neck softly.

You moaned quietly at the feel of him on your back. The post-orgasm glow was never so good before. It felt like you were in a different realm of existence, floating and glowing in bliss.

“You’re mine, Y/n?” He wanted reassurance. Which was understandable after the way you handled things the first time around. But this time was going to be different. You two were starting over again. This time with a better understanding of what the other needed, with a better understanding of yourself and what each of you needed to do to be a good partner. Things were different this time.

Harry pushed himself up and looked down at his sensitive cock still inside of you. He drew himself back and watched as his creamy come leaked from your hole and he pressed himself back inside. You felt him pumping himself in and out shallowly and turned your head to look at him. His eyes were glued to your cunt where he was fucking his come back inside of you. A natural urge he couldn’t deny.

When his eyes found yours and he finally pulled himself out, he helped you roll to your side as he laid next to you, his hand on your cheek and you placed your palm on his chest, “I’m yours, Harry. I was back then too I just didn’t realize it. Couldn’t admit it. But I’m yours.”

You both smiled at one another. His eyes were bright and clear and you could trust him. You knew you could. He made you feel so comfortable about yourself. Made you feel like you could make him happy and that he’d want to stick around for you. That he would make you happy in return.

He took your hand and pressed it harder over his chest, “I’m yours too. I was since the day I first met you. I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful, Y/n. And I’m not letting go of you again.”

You grinned and pushed yourself up to his mouth to kiss him. You felt his palm slide down your side and to your bum, as he squeezed you, causing a laugh to puff out from your lips against his.

“Sorry, I love your ass. Feels so good in my hands. Just wanna bite it and stuff my face against it. Can’t help it.”

You rolled your eyes at him still grinning but when he swatted at your bottom your mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young lady. When I tell you I love your ass, I fucking mean it.” He gave you another good squeeze to emphasize his words.

So you slid your hand down to his nipple and squeezed at it, “And I love your nipples and these tits,” you laughed.

Harry’s wide grin and dimples were suddenly hidden when he nuzzled his face into your neck and you heard him inhale deeply.

The afterglow with him was something out of a romance novel. It was beautiful and precious. Almost too good to be true.

The sound of a cellphone ringing had both you and Harry lifted out of the sweet moment. He sat up, “It’s me.”

He hopped out of your bed and you watched as he crouched down to his pants where his phone was in his back pocket. His strong back flexing as he pulled it out and then stood up to answer the call.

“Hello?”

You frowned as you watched him disappear into your hallway, still nude. Turning to look at the clock on your side table you noted that it was paste 10 pm. You wondered who was calling at the late hour. Couldn’t have been work. What could be so important that he had to leave your side after he’d just given you the best orgasm of your life?

“I’ll be there! I’m booking a flight as soon as I get off the phone. Yes..”

You could hear him pacing and talking. You picked up most of what he said as you sat silently on your bed waiting for him to return and explain himself.

“I missed you too. I can’t wait to finally meet her. I know. Me too.”

You slid off your bed and pulled a t-shirt from your drawer to put it over your body as he ended the call with an I love you.

Harry walked back into your room with a huge grin, “My sister just had her baby!”

You smiled at him widely as he took three long-legged steps toward you, his cock swaying as he was still completely naked before he wrapped you in a tight hug, “Today is like the best day I’ve ever had. First you,” he kissed your cheek, “Now my sister...”

You laughed when he twirled around with you and then he let go, a sudden look of realization on his face, “Come with me to London. I want everyone to meet you!”

You blinked your eyes and stuttered your words, “Are you serious?”

He grabbed your hands, “Dead serious. Come with me. It’s not like you have to ask off for work. We can go for a couple of weeks. God, it’d be so fun, Y/n. Me and you… My mom’s going to love you.”

Your head was spinning from everything that had happened that day. From the moment Harry walked into that room at the gallery to now having him standing naked in your bedroom asking you to take a trip with him to see his family and his sister’s new baby. But, spinning or not, there was no part of you that would turn down the offer.

“That sounds amazing. I’d love to, Harry.”

He pulled you in for another hug and pressed his face into your neck, “This is going to be so good, Y/n.”

You laughed as he squeezed you tight and then his hands cupped your cheeks, “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, and then we’ll book our flights. Yeah?”

You nodded as your cheeks burned hot when he pressed his mouth to yours again.

It was a funny thing to you. That the first time you had sex with Harry the post-orgasm afterglow was interrupted by a phone call. And this time another phone call had broken the moment too. Except things were not the same as they were then. Now you knew who Harry was. You trusted him and this time everything was going to be different.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this!! xoxo

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[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 8: ~

An Apology?

What's this? The start of a Rennick redemption arc? Honestly, out of all the chapters I've done, this was the easiest to do. The long awaited Muirne/Muirinnes chapter is next.

Part 9:

Cheers roared across the Deck. The darts was being held outside for Muir. He just missed out on the finale and no one was going to be left behind. Even Rennick had an open invite, but still, now long into the night, he stayed in hiding.

Brodie had won the darts by, and no offence to Finlay, a country mile. Everyone was happily drinking beers and eating the left over Christmas food. Raffs, Scooby, McLurg, Roy and Trots handed out the food and drink. Muir, because this was going to be a running gag, hoisted Brodie up and over his head. Poor Brodie covered his eyes and called to be put down as laughs drowned out his voice. Muir sensed the panic in his heartbeat and put him down to be surrounded by his crew mates for his own mosh pit.

Caz watched from the steps. He needed time alone. He watched the game, had a moment with Roy and was currently thinking what to tell Suze. There was no point writing to her. Rescue should be here by tomorrow afternoon. He was just wondering what to say to her.

Whatever gift The Shape gave him tingled in the back of his head. It registered Rennick. Caz turned and saw the man on the helipad. Trots and the others must have sensed him too, but they all ignored him. Caz caught himself staring at his manager a little longer than he would have. He pondered, swinging the can of beer between his fingers.

'Bigger man?! You are shitting me, McLeary. You're the bigger man?'

'Fuck sake, Suze.' Of course she was right. He swallowed his pride, took another beer from an unsuspecting Raffs who now sat further away with Douglas, and made his way to the helipad. Some of the crew who also sat on the steps noticed.

Once again, Rennick had a distant look in his eyes. He didn't hear Caz approach and only noticed when the beer was in his peripheral vision. His eyes followed to the leccy, who was looking out to the sea. 'Just take it.'

Food and drink was the last thing on Rennick's mind. His eyes narrowed at Caz, then took the beer as if it were a fragile piece of glass. A tendril slowly wrapped itself around the can. A part of him wondered if this was a prank. Was the can empty? Was it going to explode? When nothing happened and Caz sat down did he finally relax. Like Muir, Rennick loafed like a cat, tucking his two 'arms' under himself. God, how he hated it.

A silence lingered between the men. Neither knew what to say to each other. Caz couldn't exactly ask Rennick how he was doing, and Rennick couldn't ask anything. He knew he was hated. Caz knew that, too. The sounds of the sea waves splashing against the legs filled the lack of conversation.

'Brodie won the darts,' Caz eventually said.

'I'm not surprised.' Back to silence. Caz sipped on his beer, trying not to be loud. He glanced to Rennick, who was trying and failing to open his. The tendrils were too thick to wrap around the tag. Sensing, or just being able to read the man like a book, Caz took the can, opened it, and offered it back before tempers could rise. '...Thanks.'

'Nae bother.' A pause. God, how Caz couldn't stand this. Just say something. Be the bigger man. 'Do you have anyone waiting back home?'

'Aye. I have my son and grandson.'

'And the missus?'

'No idea. She left years ago. It was a nasty divorce. She told me I love money more than her. She was right, but...I dunno...' Rennick downed his entire can.

He felt the beer not go into his stomach because it didn't exist anymore, but across his entire body like an energy source. Rennick didn't know how to feel. Physically, it felt normal, but mentally, he was uncomfortable. He tried not to show it and passed it off as how strong the drink was. It wasn't strong at all. 'Weaker than piss,' Finlay would say.

Maybe because he just wanted to talk to someone or the thought that rescue wouldn't come, Rennick continued.

'I know you all hate me, but you should all share that hatred towards Cadal.'

'You still ordered the drilling, Rennick. This does come down to you.'

'Please. If it was up to me, I would have stopped the drilling. But Cadal, that Bernard prick, would have rung all our necks.'

'I don't think that's enough to make them down there happy.'

'Okay, son, you suddenly got smart over the course of a day, what would you have me do?'

It was remarkable how calm the pair were being. Neither of the men raised their voices. Rennick sounded so tired. There was no life in his voice. The hours alone had given him much to think about. At the end of the day, he knew he was at fault for all of this. Gibbo's words had been repeating in his head. Poetic or karma that he would be infected last as he tried to flee. If he had just stayed in his office and waited, he'd still be human. Did he feel bad for that? Honestly, he didn't know. He just wanted to live. But, it was clear Rennick was stuck with these men for the near future. Would that be so bad?

'The way I see it,' Caz said. 'If you want to get into their good books, then come and join us.' And with that, Caz got to his feet and walked back for the Deck. Rennick watched him leave. He pondered and, like Caz, swung the can whilst his mind tried to make a decision. He was a leader. He should be good at this.

With a heavy heart and after tossing the can into the sea as last 'fuck you' towards The Shape, he followed Caz, who was waiting outside Administration.

Oddly enough, and he couldn't give a reason as to why Caz was proud of him. The half-smile and crossed arms said that. 'We made sure to set up a bed for you and all.'

'This doesn't make us friends, McLeary.'

'And I don't expect us to be.' The crew watched the pair. After seeing Gibbo, Rennick kept his head down and picked up the pace as Caz led him to his bed. His wounds had long since healed. It was the only good thing about The Shape's infection, along with fixing his sight. 'Here ya go. Home sweet home.'

Rennick felt like a horse going into its stable. He was tired. His mind had been racing all day, and his stress levels couldn't get any higher. He wanted to sleep. The small mountain of bed sheets and pillows looked like heaven on his heavy eyes. Before stepping inside, he found the courage to turn back and look at his crew.

'I'm sorry for everything. I'll do better next time.' And with that, Rennick walked into his container and slowly pulled the door shut. A small sigh of relief could be heard as his body gave out.

Everyone was quiet as they tried to wrap their heads around what they had just heard. Rennick apologised? It was a start, but how willing was he to commit? Only time would tell, but no one was getting their hopes up.

'He's improving already,' Caz whispered to whoever was closest to him - that being Addair - who gave him a look. 'He didn't slam the door for a start.'

[l0serloki]

Following Orders

Yakuza!Yoru x Reader

Summary : You grew up in the Yakuza and can't escape. But maybe it's not a bad thing..

CW : SMUT, f!reader, sir kink, mean yoru, dumbification & degrading, creampie, praising, dirty nasty desk sex

masterlist

Your job wasn’t exactly a safe one. It wasn’t your choice in the first place to join, your mother had been poor and the Yakuza were the only ones who had offered to take her in. Under one condition - that she would work as their escort. 

You had respected all that she had done for you but now you faced the dilemma that she forced upon you. When she died they had come searching for you, offering you two options. Become their errand girl and work on organizing tasks or take up your mothers job. You were obviously smart enough to know there wasn’t room to negotiate with these people so you gave in. And that is how you were currently working under one of the strongest members of the Yakuza. 

Yoru.

He was a tough boss and you didn’t see him very often. You sat in his office as he took care of people and money. He was very picky about how his things were to be set up but once you got in the swing of things he was actually quite generous. You also didn’t have to worry about other men trying to feel up on you as Yoru’s reputation was quite well known. Or so you thought.

Today was a day that you got to see him. Which meant you also had to calm your heart. It was unfair having such a handsome face and body and being so unlikeable. 

“Y/N where did my report go for the recent mission?” Yoru’s voice piped up, your eyes meeting his as you dusted the shelves.

“It’s on the bottom container sir.” You watched as he rolled his eyes and yanked out the paper.

“When I’m here just leave it on the desk.” His voice was demanding and you could feel agitation rising within you.

“With all due respect sir I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” You mumbled out as you tried to hide your scowl. You could hear his annoyed grunt as he peered up at you.

“Don’t fucking give me attitude.” His words pierced through you and you turned around to continue dusting. Your anger only mounting up more as you felt hot tears prick your eyes. You wanted to walk out, to say you were done, but you knew better. And as much as he was an asshole, you didn’t think anywhere else would pay as well as he did.

“Y/N.” Yoru’s hand slapped the table, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Sir.” You mumbled out, not bothering to turn around as you leaned over to continue cleaning.

“Has Haru talked to you?” He sounded almost mad, but you brushed it off as his usual personality.

“No? Was he supposed to?” You raised an eyebrow to him and he frowned.

“No. If he comes up to you, tell him to leave you alone.” He stood up quickly, taking his papers with him. “I am going into a meeting. I will be done in an hour. Be in here when I am done.” He sauntered out of the room, not leaving much option to say no.

What had he wanted you to stay for? And why was he suddenly so worried about some grunt who works the backrooms?

–

You waited for a while before the office door opened and Yoru came stomping in. By the look on his face the meeting did not go as planned and he threw the papers onto his desk. His eyes snapped to you, something dark running within them.

“Sir?” You whispered out as he leaned back and motioned you towards him.

“Don’t make me tell you what to do. Come here.” He pats the seat directly in front of him. You slowly sit down and look up at his form.

“I leave for a week and then all of a sudden I hear rumors about Haru and you fucking. Are you going around and being a whore? Do you know how that looks on me? Having my secretary fuck some nobody?” 

Your eyes widened at the accusations. Your heart felt like it was about to explode as you began to shake your head wildly. 

“That’s not true sir! I would never do that. I have only talked to him once.” Yoru’s hand comes to grip your jaw as he gets closer to you.

“And how would I know you’re telling the truth?” His voice was deep and you felt yourself grow hotter at his rough touch. 

“I am sir! I promise. I’ll do anything to prove it.” You whispered out, trying to come to terms if you were scared, horny, or both.

“And what if I gave you an opportunity to prove it? What if I made you my personal whore instead? Made everyone listen as I fucked you right now?” His hand pulled you to stand up as the other gripped at your hip. You let out a moan as his usual glare turned into a smirk. You couldn’t deny that he was attractive and maybe it wouldn’t be bad to just give in. After all it was your job to help him out. Right?

“Okay.” You whisper out and Yoru immediately gets into gear. His hands ripped at your shirt, throwing it across the floor, pushing you against his desk. He smacked your thighs apart as he slid in between.

“Good girl. You are stubborn but you know when to listen.” He gave you a sarcastic smile as he slid off your bra.

Your body twitched as his eyes roamed over you, suddenly feeling nervous. He didn’t leave much time for that though. His fingers moved to roll one of your nipples as his mouth sucked at the other. Your head fell back against the desk as he continued his ministrations. 

“Fuck. Look at you. I’ve wanted to do this since you joined. My little slut.” His words sent heat against your core as you all but moaned. You needed him.

“Yoru-” You started and he slapped your thigh. 

“It’s sir. And don’t worry princess, I’ll fuck you.” His hands moved down as he yanked away at your pants and underwear, his eyes taking in the sight of your wet cunt.

“You’re so wet. You love me bending you over this desk? Or is it the thought of everyone hearing you take my cock?” He grunts as his hands make haste with his zipper and underwear, pulling out his hard-on.

Your mouth watered at the sight. His tip was an angry red, pearls of precum beading up out of it. You wanted nothing more than to lean down and lick it off.

“Answer me when I talk to you. Do you like me fucking you over the desk?” Yoru smacked at your ass as he turned you around. You let out a strangled sounding ‘yes’ as his cock rubbed against your folds. 

“Beg for it then. If you like it so much.” He teased his tip against your wet hole and you felt your eyes water. 

“Please sir. I’ll be good! Just fuck me!” 

Yoru must’ve liked your answer because all at once he shoved himself into you, not giving you time to adjust. A scream ripped from your throat as you body tried to adjust to the intrusion. His hands caged you against the desk as he gave you a few tester thrusts.

“Fuck. You’ve got to stop squeezing me like that or I’ll cum in you.” 

The thought alone of his seed inside you made you clench harder. You could practically hear his smirk as he felt you.

“Dirty bitch. You’d like my cum dripping out of your slutty hole. I don’t know why I should be surprised.” He whispered into your ear as he began his harsh pace. It didn’t take long for you to feel the knot in your stomach building up. 

“Sir..” You moan out and your mouth is met with a sudden intrusion as he shoves his fingers into your mouth.

“I know, baby. I’m almost there too. Gonna fill you up and let everyone know who you belong to.” His hand ran down to your clit, his thumb nudging against it as your body shook.

“Sir!” Your voice screamed as you finally reached your high. You clenched against him hard, his hand slamming down next to your head as his thrusts faltered. His cum seeped into you, filling you full. His body deflated against yours as he rested for a moment. He slowly moved back and pulled out, watching as his seed dripped down your thighs.

“Fuck. I’m going to have to do this to you everytime I come back. Hear me?” Yoru swiped at the mess and plugged it back into your hole. Your head fell to the side with a moan from the overstimulation. 

“Yes sir.” You whisper out and he only hummed.

“Good girl.”

[wilsons-journey]

Neeve Wynther

Looks like someone never told us about his twin Sister.

Both were raised to serve and kill. Yet both deal very different with all the shit in their life - but in core, both are incredible stubborn, just in their very own way:

Valefor thrives on spite - "I was dragged to my worst place, and I won't give anyone the satisfaction of dragging me further down."

Neeve on the other hand thrives on optimism - "I've been at rock bottom, so things can only go up!"

(Special thanks to Rolan (BrightwingedBat) for putting it in these wonderful words)

More about her and Valefors relationship under the cut:

Despite connected in blood - they never really bonded. Until later in their life.

Neeve was ready to give her life to the idea only to live to serve and kill. She was good in that. Everyone praised her for her incredible skills, while Valefor struggled during their childhood.

She soon becomes a valuable asset to Israfils servants. She is happy to be a tool - that makes her useful and makes her seen. The urge to feel important to someone - no matter who - gets stronger after a seemingly stranger saved her life. The feeling she got out of this situation moved something in her view. At first she saw this as granted, because she is valuable. She is needed - nothing goes without her! Its later when she understands, it had nothing to do with her - that person just did, what he thought was right in that moment.

Some years later, when her brother once again entered the organisation, she learns how easily you can get replaced. She fails in a mission and Valefor was tasked to get rid of this mistake.

Valefor offered her to let her go - let her live. Even if they spend most of their life apart and barely knew each other, he hesitated to put his sister down. Neeve in her stubbornness refused this offer, thinking if I kill him fist, I prove my worth once again and can go back.

But she looses. Both siblings take some scars from this fight - Neeve more than Valefor (I decided some of his face scars are from her). The Scars in Neeves Face and the blind eye are the result of that fight. Also a scar on her head, covered by her hair, is from that day. Valefor knocked her out to spare her life.

This head injury sadly had some lasting effects. She experiences memory loss and nasty headaches from time to time, that also triggers bad memories/nightmares or even hallucinations. In best times the head injury just makes her zone out - completely forgetting everything around her.

From that day on she had to pull through some years of extreme memory loss. But this also helps her to develop to be her own person - not only a tool. The basic urge to matter to someone still remains.

At first she tries to force friendships. Later she tries to form friendships by favors like - I do this thing for you and you're my friend. But none of this ever feels real. Not like this vague memory she had of the moment this stranger saved her.

So her life becomes a journey to find a placeor someone that cares and sees her - the real her. During this time she works as mercenary and befriends a small merchant group. Her first real relationship, that might started on favors but developed with trust. From this group she received her new Name "Neeve". From that day she no longer goes by the name Valafar, that only gave her a bad feeling after the head incident.

Some years later, to a time when Valefor broke free from Israfil, she seeks him out, in hope to reconnect with him. She hopes their connection in blood matters - automatically giving them a meaningful connectiong.

This don't work out - not as fast as she had hoped for at least. Valefor initially refused to welcome her back in his life. He still sees the stubborn, competitive warrior in her, that only seeks to be better than everyone else. And in part it's still true. She wants to show everyone how awesome she is - how strong she is.

It's in another heated fight Valefor realized the true nature behind her behavior. But also the weight of his past action - he realitzed the permanent damage he had caused to her, when he tried to spare her.

This soften up the grumpy man,... and slowly accepting Neeve back in his life - accepting her as his sister. They still have to work through a lot - like Neeve still have to learn a lot about trust and empathy. But they will work through it - giving each other something back, they never able to experience - a family.

She will settle down near Valefor's and Kyings home and open a Forge, where she crafts excellent weapons and armor. And with the difference put aside, she and Valefor have the opportunity to become a powerful duo in combat. While Valefor is best in Meele, Neeve thrives in ranged combat - making these two very deadly to face.

So it's no surprise they soon or later train together, giving Kying some rest. Before that he had to help Valefor satisfy his urge to fight. Now the demon siblings can bash their heads, while also working on their relationship.

And funny lil sidenote: She will adapt Valefors passion for music. So you can see these two kick some beats together.

And I guess from that moment on, Neeve truly starts to be more herself. Doing things she enjoys without a second thought.

Some short facts:

Neeve real name was Valafar

She is AroAce

She is a Guardian like Valefor, casting cold / blue flames

She is also part Demon

She has Chains around her arms , she uses these as an extension of her weapon. She attaches her blades to these, to turn them into ranged weapons (similar to a Kusarigama)

like her brother, she cares little for food

Her passion is blacksmithing. She values a good crafted blade and goes nuts over hit. Its the only thing she truly understands

She believes: If you try hard enough, things will work out - with that mindset she often tries to force things, like reconnecting with her brother

Thats also makes her a try hard (perfectionist) - she tries to optimizing the shit out of everything.

[a66-1]

Whiskey. Neat, please.

Simon x Bartender!Afab!Reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 |

⚠️tw⚠️ cursing, weird guys. (warming up on this one ::)))

a/n: first time in a while writing something longer. (I, me, my, pronouns.) Bear with me please :) (d'ya get what the title hints at? No? okay.)

Fucking busy night. Christ, should've let Christy take this shift..

I wiped down the bar from whatever other nasty people have been putting their unwashed hands on it before more eventually ruin my efforts. It was barely 11pm and the bar was already fucking packed with men and women determined to forget the rest of their weekend in this dingey place. My boss made me take a shift for someone, and Christy politely offered to take it, and I stupidly declined.

I needed the money, for christs sake.

The speaker surrounding the top of the main drink bar in the middle of the bar started playing too sweet by hoizer, and I hummed softly in approval. I slung the towel over my shoulder, walking back behind the bar to start wiping down some glasses that have been way overdue.

My co-worker, Shelby, bumped my hip with hers. I glance over to her, a what the hell? look on my face. She giggled, and oogled her eyes over to a group of people presumably, but I didnt follow her gaze.

"I fuckin love that we get those.. Military men from time to time.. God, makes me take the night shifts just to feed my eyes," she gave another laugh, before going to pour a glass, noticing my uninterested response.

"Oh come on, girl, you're such a loner, you need to get yourself out there! Don't tell me that old dickwad is still trying to get in your pants again-"

I cut her off, scoffing, "Jesus, Shelby, shut up. I'm not interested in your weird taste in men." *I moved away from her, heading to another full sink. I slid the clean cups to the guys pouring drinks, huffing softly. Jesus, they need to actually staff this place..

I hear a seat slide back, and then shift forward. I tilted my head up, and I'm met with a weirdo, his chin resting on his palm, almost impatiently. I shift my stance taller, giving him a once over. I'm used to picking theses guys out from a crowed, incase he fucks with any girls here.

"Ya need a drink?" I offered, tapping the cup against the counter. He gave a slow, sideways smile under his mask.

"O' course. Made my mouth all dry with that bitter gaze you got on you." The guy snickered, before waving his hand once he noticed my unamused expression. "Kidding. Take a joke, darling."

I scoffed under my breath, and I learned my throat. "Whaddya want, sir?"

"I mean, honestly? You baby.. But drink wise... Maybe a whiskey, on the rocks." He gave me a weird smile. I poured the whiskey, and droped some ice in there, sliding it to him. He drank from it as I cleaned out more glasses, his eyes keen on me.

I tried to shift once more to another side of the bar, but the guy fuckin grabbed me. I pulled back, cursing at him..

And this big ass motherfucker comes out from God knows we're, and sits the guy down. He's got a Skull mask on, and clad with military gear.

"Sit." Was the only word that left his mouth. The guy huffed and pushed him off, cursing things at him. The skull masked guy turned to me, bowing his head slightly. I rolled my eyes hesitantly.

"Okay, Mr. Big ego who need to save poor women. I can handle myself-" The guy huffs to silence me.

"Was jus' helpin' lovie." He sat in the guys old seat, nodding his head towards me. "'M Ghost. Mind gettin' me a drink?"

I let my eyes examine this new guy, before nodding. "Uh.. I.. Yeah. I'll.. Grab you a.. Uh..?" I motioned for him to tell me. He smirked, and shrugged.

"Nothin' wild. I want y'to remember my order." He drummed his fingers for a moment before snapping, like he got some bright idea. "Whiskey. Neat, please."

(not proof read) thank you for reading! I'm working in the other parts, and this one might be longer maybe idk I'm tired.

-a661

[the-s1lly-corner]

Flufftober prompt 7: one bed (sir pentious)

so so glad the person who supplied this prompt list gave some alt prompts because i could not think of anything for the sharing clothes prompt </3 prompt: You and Sir Pentious share a bed together after your bedroom was wrecked, along with a lot of the rest of the hotel... notes: reader is gn, crushing but nothing official relationship wise, no events based on whats happened in canon- think of it as canon divergent/an off screen moment where the hotel was attacked by some ticked off residents of hell, reader is a sinner word count: 2678 cws: none

It had been absolute chaos, you weren't even sure who was responsible for pissing so many people off... not that it seemed to matter, as the outcome left a huge chunk of the hotel ruined and in shambles on one side; demolishing a lot of the rooms on the upper floors. You winced as you looked at the damage, even from the ground you could tell your room didn't leave unscathed. Some of your belongings, left scattered and scorched, only cemented that idea. Your staring must have been obvious as a handful of some of the hotel residents came over. The first to speak was Charlie, who was already left a little wired from the attack.

"These aren't yours, are they?" She asked softly as she avoided stepping on anything that once belonged to you. The others that followed her weren't as mindful. Charlie worked her eyebrows together, working her hands together as she tried to think of something to say. "We'll get this fixed-" She whipped around, seeming to take a mental note of the extent of the damage done. Her face visibly fell for a second when her eyes scanned across the upper floors. "-You can sleep in one of the empty rooms-"

"If they're not destroyed." Vaggie mumbled, arms crossed over her chest. You wondered if she was already trying to figure out who's fault it was, who got who angry enough to come and attack. "We can fix it," Charlie reassured, putting a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder. "How long do you think it will take?" You finally spoke up. The actual suggestion of time seemed to take the princess off guard, but she quickly composed herself.

"Maybe..." She started before picking up a piece of burnt wood, then turned to Alastor. He had been able to summon souls to help fix the hotel before, but this was so much more than a blasted up wall. "At least a day or two, I'll go ask Alastor... maybe.." a pause. "you can stay in a spare room if it's not destroyed,"

"I can just stay somewhere else for a few nights, it's not that bad," You suggested, but Charlie quickly shut that down. "I don't like the idea of anyone going out for now... I mean," She gestured towards the damage, "If someone got mad enough to do this, I don't want to risk them grouping us all together... if just one of us caused problems..."

"Not that I would.. force you to stay..." She added under her breath.

"It's fine, really," You began but a third person spoke.

"They can have my room, I have somewhere else to stay" Sir Pentious offered.

A pause.

"Your ships been destroyed, where-" You started. It was true, granted it wasn't totally destroyed... it had taken a rather nasty hit during the attack. Pentious gently waved you off, "You won't need to worry about that!" He insisted, though by the look on his face it was most definitely something to worry about. However, by his tone he seemed set on letting you have his room.

"Pentious... are you sure?" Charlie asked, only for the sinner to nod. He adjusted his hat by the brim. "I'll get my belongings... in the meantime.." His eyes darted towards you. "Why don't you grab what can be salvaged... you may store it in my room for as long as you need," His eyes pulled themselves away from you the second he was done speaking. You chewed on your tongue for a moment before deciding to take him up on his offer. "Well if you insist," You shrugged before dragging your feet across the ground, picking up some of the burned things that were once in your room. Thankfully, nothing of value seemed to be lost... at least from what you could tell at the moment.

There wasn't a lot to salvage from what was left of your room. The wall was totally blown open and some of the things that didn't get blasted out were either destroyed from the damage or tosses all over the place. You gathered some clothing to move to your temporary room as well as some essentials and made your way to Pentious' room.

Now that the shock and adrenaline of everything was subsiding, the aches in your body made themselves known. You were relatively uninjured but that didn't change the fact that your body asked for you to lay down... you'd need to take a shower first, hopefully Pentious wouldn't mind you using his bathroom tonight.

Speaking of the sinner, you found him scrambling about his room trying to collect what he needed to move out for the night, his eggs scuttling across the floor around in him an attempt to help their creator. You knocked gently on the doorframe prompting the man to jump, his hood fanning out before relaxing down against his back when he realized it was just you. He scrambled to pick up what he had dropped and he offered you a half smile, face a little reddened from his surprise.

"Sorry about that," You smiled back and stepped out of the way so the egg boiz could pass through the door. You didn't pay much mind to what they said, most seemed to just be greeting you and chattering about the temporary move. "Did you find somewhere to stay?" You let the eggs pass by without much thought. Pentious seemed to wilt, but he didn't give you a chance to make a comment.

"It's all settled, there is no need for you to worry about me!" He said, firmly and almost like he felt proud of himself for stepping up to let you use his room. "Oh.." You said. The air was awkward, despite the snake trying to look as collected as possible. He was failing. Badly.

A pause, neither of you said anything for a few seconds.

"Is it fine if I use your shower? The one in my room is kind of..." You trailed off, closing your fist before opening it to mimic a boom. He took a moment, before nodding. "Of course!"

More silence.

"Alright..." You nodded, letting him pass to the door. "I'll give you some privacy," and he had slithered out abruptly, leaving you alone. You stood there for a moment before walking to the door, shutting and locking it.

The first half of the night was uneventful. You showered, winded down, and went to bed. You would have slept through the entire night if it weren't for a not too soft thud near the door of the bedroom. You pulled yourself into a sitting position and rubbed your eyes, allowing your eyes to adjust to the darkness. There was a scurrying noise coming from the door, and you weren't going to lie... in your half awake state it put you on edge. After a few seconds, you approached.

You paused for a moment, as the noise started to die down a little. Your hand rested on the knob, before pulling the door open. For a moment you didn't see anything in the dim light the hall's light showed, mostly due to the thing that made all the noise being on the floor. You nearly screamed, only barely containing it by slapping your hand on your mouth.

It seemed, Sir Pentious had not found somewhere else to stay. Or maybe this was what he meant when he said he'd sleep elsewhere. He too, seemed only half awake. You both stared at one another, you had just noticed his egg boiz huddling into his tail. If you weren't so tired you may have found the situation at least a little comical.

"Why," You started but your words seemed to snap Sir Pentious out of whatever grogginess he was stuck in. "My ship was far more destroyed than I first believed," He started, shutting you down as he went into explaining himself. The couch in the living room had been wrecked in the attack, and most of the spare rooms were either destroyed or locked. Sleeping on the floor seemed to be his best option.

You took a step forward, and looked up and down the hallway. Everything was quiet except for Pentious' rambling. Everyone else seemed to be asleep, save for the faint scuttling. Bugs, or Niffty. You weren't sure which one it was. Had she been here a second ago? You looked back down to Sir Pentious as he moved from defending himself to saying he won't be a bother to you, that he can move away from the door if you would like. It was pitiful to watch, actually, watching him coil in on himself to make himself smaller and hopefully less noticeable. You started to feel bad for him.

You cast a look over your shoulder to the round bed you had just been in. Considering only one person was in this room, unless you counted the eggs as people, it was rather large. More than enough room for you and the sinner to share with plenty of room to spare. Eyes darting back to Pentious, you broke up his talk.

"You're going to get sick if you sleep on the floor, or maybe wake up with a piece missing from you if Niffty catches you," You joked... though... Knowing her, she might actually try. "Why don't you come to bed? There's room, you know," You added after a moment. He stared at you, grabbing his hood and wringing his hands into it. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to intrude," He mumbled. "It's your bed, you should be allowed to sleep in it. We can put up pillows as a barrier if you're worried about space," You insisted.

He paused, looking you in the eye before pulling his stare away down to his eggs. "Alright..." and he started to slowly coax the eggs awake to make the move. You offered a small smile, before rushing back to the bed to move the spare bedding you had been given. There wasn't much to make a barrier, so you simply sacrificed one of the blankets you were given to make a line. "You can have this side," You offered as you crawled in. Not much was said as the sinner claimed the free space, letting his eggs curl back against his tail. They fell back to sleep fairly quickly.

Now that the two of you were in bed, the blanket barrier became laughable. It hardly did anything to divide your spaces, but that didn't seem to be much of an issue given that the snake man was keeping to himself and pressing against the raised sides of the bed. You felt rather silly for not noticing sooner, but you realized the bed resembled that of a nest.

You couldn't help but smile to yourself.

"It's a shame I can't take your bed with me when my room's fixed," You joked, turning your head to look at Pentious. He had turned his own head to look at you, eyes widened by his statement as he seemed to struggle to work his mouth. "You can have it-" He spewed out, before backtracking. "I mean... I can show... tell... you where Miss Charlie got it from, and.." He forced his mouth shut and paused. "I can help... put it together.. for you!" He added, ripping his words out of his throat. You blinked, taking a moment to think... your silence only seemed to make him more nervous.

"Or we can switch rooms if you prefer this one," He added, forcing himself to look up at the ceiling and away from you. "I was joking, Pen, you don't need to do any of that." You insisted. Quiet, followed by a soft "oh!" and forced laughter. "I knew that!" He very obviously lied.

You looked away from him and sat in silence. You bit your tongue, teasing him felt a little too mean, and besides you were tired.

"You could have just stayed here from the get go, you know, you didn't need to go. If you weren't already sure you had somewhere else to go I could have just went and looked... for a place.." You trailed off and thought. He had seemed too eager to offer up his room earlier, now that you were remembering the interaction. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, he had been staring up until he noticed you give him a look. "Offering was the right thing to do,"

That's right. He's trying to be redeemed.

And for a moment you though he had done it for another reason.

You looked up at the ceiling, trying to make out the texture of it as you tried to think of something to say.

"Well, if you keep this up you're probably going to get to Heaven..." You started, then looked at him. You didn't take much time to think if it were even possible, but the way Charlie spoke about her cause... there had to be a shot, right? "Not to shade anyone else here, but I think you're probably way ahead, compared to all of us..." You added.

You turned yourself to rest on your side. "You do realize if you get redeemed, if someone can be redeemed, you're going to be alone up there without the rest of us you know?"

You couldn't stop the words before they came out. You never thought about that, the separation. By the look that spread across his face it became clear that he didn't think about that either. The look of surprise and realization quickly turned into one similar to sadness.

"I'll be sure to grab onto you before you ascend, you're not going to be getting rid of me that easily," You tried to lighten the mood, and your comment seemed to work just a little bit. "Will that not get us both in trouble?" He asked. You offered a shrug, "If so, maybe we'll get kicked out... doesn't mean we can't try again- they'll just have to let us in together eventually" You smirked. He offered one in return, though the worry didn't leave his eyes.

"I think..." He started, resting his hands across his torso as he stared back up at the ceiling. "Being with you... is heavenly enough."

Quiet.

"Because I enjoy your company, and-" He started, about to launch into another ramble, similar to the one he had in the hallway. He pressed himself harder against the sides of the bed, like he was looking for an escape. You couldn't help but smile over his words.

"I think you're pretty neat too, actually" You said bluntly, making the sinner freeze up. He seemed to relax just a tad, but he kept his eyes away from you.

"You think so?"

"Of course, lying is a sin isn't it? If we're getting out of here together I need to be honest," You turned yourself back onto your back, looking to where he had his eyes focused on the ceiling.

He remained quiet for a while, and opened his mouth as if he were about to speak. A few noises made themselves past his lips, before he closed his mouth again.

You didn't push him to say what he wanted, the exhaustion in your bones was beginning to become almost too much to bare. You had decided you'd both have more than enough time to talk when you'd wake up... it wasn't like he was going to ascend to Heaven the first thing in the morning... if simply disappearing into the air was how it worked... You imagined the sinner just rising into the air and you couldn't help but smirk a little bit... no that's not how it works... it couldn't be...

Unbeknownst to you, as you drifted off to sleep, the sinner was staring at you. The words he finally got to pull from his mouth were left unheard as the image of him hovering into the air faded from your mind's eye, sleep claiming you.

[danurso]

A new opportunity

(Good god i can't remember the last time i spent so long in such a long post, hope you enjoy)

Another day began at Beacon, and just like always, teams RWBY and JNPR gathered for breakfast at the cantina.

Nora: -which is why i believe that a monetary system based on Maple syrup would be the best solution to an economic crisis.

Ren: . . . . . .

Pyrrha: . . . . . .

Ruby: . . . . . .

Blake: . . . .worst thing of all? that kinda makes sense.

Jaune: *sits down with his tray* Hey guys, what did I miss?

Ruby: Nora was explaining to us how using maple syrup instead of lien would improve the economy.

Ren: If she spent as much time studying as she does thinking about these things, her grades would be better than Weiss'

Pyrrha: Speaking of her, where is she?

Blake: At the headmaster's office.

Ren: Did something happen?

Ruby: Honestly? We have no idea, she's been acting a bit off since she woke up.

Yang: *sits down with her tray* We're talking about Ice queen?

Ruby: Yeah.

Yang: Wonder what's got her panties on a twist. Did you try to serenade her again vomit boy?

Jaune: Of course not, i haven't tried anything since the ball.

Ruby: It's been just a week so….maybe those are still on her head?

Blake: maybe she had a dream with him again, or a nightmare as she calls it.

Jaune: Why am I the only possible reason why Weiss is having mood problems?

Yang: Because no one can push her buttons as far as you vomit boy.

Jaune: I don't. . . . . .*sigh* Fair enough.

Ruby: Hey don't be like that, she hasn't cursed at or ridiculed you ever since the ball, that's some progress.

Jaune: I guess. . . . .though at this point i don't wanna try anything anymore, if she ever wants to talk or try and be friends i'll be here but. . . . .i'll sit in my corner until then, i already pushed her more than enough.

Blake: That's probably for the better.

Nora: Speaking of the devil.

They turned their heads to see the heiress they were just talking about walking towards them with her own lunch tray, her gaze wandering around the cantina with a tranquil expression, until her eyes landed on their table.

The group wavered at her, all of them including jaune who gave a small wave with an awkward smile. He locked eyes with her and expected the usual nasty look before she looked away with a "hmph", but instead he got a warm smile from the usually cold heiress, there was. . . . .something more to it, but he couldn't exactly put his finger on it.

Yang: About time ice queen! Did Ozpin end up talking your ears off?

Weiss: Not quite, he did go on a long ramble, but his words always have a lot to offer.

Yang: What? Wanting to upgrade from teacher's pet to headmaster's pet?

Weiss didn't reply with the usual glare, instead letting out a short chuckle, which was odd enough as it was, but before any comments could arise, they watched in a mix of shock and surprise as the heiress took a seat, and of all places, she took a seat specifically next to the blonde knight.

There was a small moment of awkwardness at that, they all looked at her in disbelief, until Jaune made his move.

Jaune: *hops a little away from her*

Weiss: *hops closer to him*

Everyone: ???

Jaune: ??? *Hops away again*

Weiss: *hops closer*

Everyone: !?!?!?

Jaune: *staring flabbergasted*

Weiss: What? *Sniff, sniff* Do i smell?

Jaune: Erm. . . . .n-no.

Weiss: Then why are you backing away from me?

Jaune: Oh, well, i just. . . .figured you wouldn't want me to sit next to you.

Weiss: *snorts and smiles* Why would I sit next to you if I didn't want you next to me silly?

Jaune: . . . . . . .

Everyone: . . . . . . .

Nora: *whispering* Who's that and what did she do to Weiss?

Ren: *shrugs*

Weiss: What are you all staring at me for? Let's eat.

They all exchanged looks and followed suit, they were still curious about Weiss' sudden mood change, but the topic was readily forgotten once Nora started to ramble again. Well, forgotten to most at least.

Jaune was quite aware of the snow white beauty next to him, it made him really nervous, it was quite the strange situation to be honest. He tried to act normal, but every now and again he would glance at her and she would glance back, he would look away as fast as possible and pretend he didn't see anything, but he was sure she noticed, and was almost certain those exchanges made her giggle.

Jaune: *quickly glances at her*

Weiss: *staring*

Jaune: *pink, looks away as fast as possible*

Weiss: I'm not gonna hit you for looking or anything like that y'know?

Jaune: S-sorry, i didn't mean to stare.

Weiss: Pretty sure those were too short to be called "stares", but I don't mind either way.

Jaune: Uhm, okay. . . . .are. . . .are you okay?

Weiss: Better than ever.

Jaune: Are you sure? I never saw you-!?

Weiss: *sighs, resting against his arm* That was a good lunch, I haven't felt this full in years.

Jaune: *red* Erm. . . .Weiss? W-what are you doing?

Weiss: Resting, I think I ate a little too much. Am i bothering you?

Jaune: N-no! Not at all.

Weiss: *snuggles* Hmm. . . .Good.

Jaune: *extremely confused*

Everyone: *staring* !?!?!?

Jaune: *redder* I have no idea either.

Lunch was over and classes soon began, confusion was still high amongst the group but they didn't have much time to question since Oobleck had just arrived to begin his lecture, and once again, Weiss was found sitting next to Jaune.

Jaune: Ugh, This thing again. . . . .

Weiss: Having problems?

Jaune: O-oh, no, not at all! *Puffs chest* I just. . . .y'know, like to think a lot before writing down an answer.

Weiss: Uh huh. . . .so, what are you having trouble with?

Jaune: I'm not-

Weiss: *stern look*

Jaune: *deflates, depressed sigh* Alloying calculations.

Weiss: Ahh, I remember those. *Leans closer, looking into his paper*

Jaune: *pink* . . . . . .W-Weiss-

Weiss: Ah, I see the issue. You're using the wrong formula, This one is used to calculate the weight of the materials during the process, what you want is the formula for density. All you need is pick is the value of the metal and the area times. . . . .

At some point Jaune's mind turned off from most things around him, he couldn't remember ever being this close to Weiss, especially when she wasn't ready to knock him out, the way her eyes scanned through the material, her soft yet serious expression as she patiently explained it all to him was mesmerizing to say the least, Jaune knew Weiss was pretty but. . . . .wow, he feels like he might fall for her all over again if this keeps up

*Snap*

Jaune: H-huh?

Weiss: Remnant calling Jaune, are you there?

Jaune: *pink* S-sorry, i was thinking about something.

Weiss: I figured, you've been staring pretty intensely at me for some time.

Jaune: *red* . . . . .i'm really sorry.

Weiss: Don't be *small smile* I like the way you look at me.

Jaune: *redder* . . . . . . .

Weiss: I wrote the formula on the corner of your notes, just try and memorize it and you won't have any issues, Okay? *Goes back to her notes*

Jaune: O-okay. Thanks.

Jaune didn't know how to feel, confused? Shocked? Overjoyed? It was a mix of all of those, and Jaune wondered until when this was going to last, would she wake up tomorrow and start hating him again? It was something worth asking, though in all honesty, he really didn't want to know the answer. And so, instead of letting that question eat away his mind, he moved on with his day, and soon enough combat classes started, where he once again found himself in a fight against cardin of all people.

And of course, it didn't end well for him.

Glynda: Match is over, Victory goes to mister Winchester.

Cardin: Hah, what a surprise. 'till next time arc.

Jaune groaned in pain, Cardin's last hit broke his aura and his face took most of the damage, he held his bruised cheek and left the arena, whatever was left of his pride being the most damaged thing in this fight

Nora: You'll get him next time.

Pyrrha: Shouldn't you go to the infirmary?

Jaune: My aura is gonna kick in an hour or so anyways, it's fine. *Sits down, groaning and rubbing the ugly bruise in his cheek.

Weiss: *sigh* You're so stubborn.

Jaune: It's fine, i-

He stopped halfway into his sentence, watching as she pulled out a handkerchief, picked up Yang's water bottle to soak it up and used a glyph to freeze it, sitting close to him and reaching out for his cheek. Jaune reflexively moved away which seemed to be the wrong move, she gave him an angry look and held his face, pulling him really close.

Weiss: Stay still you dolt. *Starts gently applying the ice* if you move i'm gonna give your other cheek a matching mark

Jaune: *flinches and stays still.*

Weiss: Better.

She then held the frozen handkerchief to his bruise, gently pressing against it while using a glyph to keep it cooled

Jaune: You don't need to do this, my aura is gonna kick in a little while.

Weiss: I don't care, you're in pain right? so zip it and let me take care of you.

Jaune: I can handle a little pain.

Weiss: I don't doubt it, but you don't need to handle it. Stop trying to act tough, it's okay to let people help you.

Jaune: . . . . . .

Weiss: There. Feels better?

Jaune: A lot. Thanks Weiss.

Weiss: Don't thank me, just make sure to kick his butt next time.

Jaune: Hah. . . . .as if that is ever going to happen.

Weiss: It will, maybe not in the next match, or the one after that, but it will eventually.

Jaune: You sound awfully sure about that.

Weiss: Because I am. Do you know what's the worst thing about You jaune?

Jaune: I think i can come up with an entire list of things i-oww!

Weiss: *pinching his good cheek* The worst thing about you is this, you have no faith in yourself, despite how hard you work, despite your visible talents, despite all of your friends telling you otherwise, you insist on the idea that you are worthless, when you obviously are not.

She stopped pinching his cheek, instead, she gently stroked it.

Weiss: You are much, much stronger than any of us could ever hope to imagine, there's someone deep down in there that will one day save many lives and protect many people, someone all of us can look up to and that can carry a burden that would crush most of us ten times over, someone worthy of being called a true hero, so don't let your fears and doubts stop you from letting that someone come out.

Jaune: *speechless* . . . . .i. . . . . .i'll try.

Weiss: *smiles* That's a good start.

And once more, Jaune was left wondering what happened to the Weiss he knew yesterday, there was no way to tell how long this would last, and the worst thing of all? Is that after everything that happened, after he finally decided to move on, she suddenly does all of this and jaune finds himself completely and utterly head over heels for her again, probably even more than before.

Was she playing with him? Was this some sort of revenge plan? He doubted it, he couldn't see Weiss sinking to such a low, and even if she tried the others would've intervened, but they were clearly just as shocked as he was.

Weiss: Hey, erm. . . . .i've been meaning to get some things in vale after class is over, would you like to come with me?

Jaune: !?!? You mean. . . .you need someone to help you?

Weiss: No, I mean that I would like to go out with you after class is over.

Jaune: I. . . . . . . .you. . . . . . .you mean. . . . . .

Weiss: *chuckles* Just a yes or a no will suffice you dolt.

Jaune: Y-yes, I would really like that.

Weiss: It's a date then.

Date. . . .Jaune lost count of the amount of times he imagined having one of those with Weiss, never in his life however did he expect this to be how it happened, once again he felt the fear of this being too good to be true, that Weiss would change her mind back how it was before as fast as she changed to how it is now, or that he'll just wake up on his bed all of this would have been a dream, but he couldn't control it either way, all he could really do is enjoy his time with Weiss for as long as he had left.

And so classes ended for the day, and soon enough, the heiress was Found in her room, wearing much more casual clothes and ready to leave, before her team blocked the way.

Weiss: You girls need something?

Blake: Yeah, we do. What's going on?

Ruby: Spill the beans!

Weiss: I assure you I have no beans in my mouth to spill.

Yang: See! This is what we mean! Since when do you do jokes like that!?

Weiss: I've developed a sense of appreciation for silly jokes like that.

Blake: Since when?

Weiss: Since yesterday.

Yang: What's going on with you? Is everything okay?

Weiss: Yes, why? Is my behavior bothering you?

Ruby: No way, you've been really nice all day, especially to Jaune, we just wanted to know where all that is coming from?

Yang: You couldn't stand the guy not too long ago, yeah you tell us what he did on the ball and that definitely earns him some good points, but for you to act like this? Like you're his girlfriend or something? It seems off for you.

Weiss: *sigh* I figured you girls would question. So, do you want the truth?

R_BY: Yeah.

Weiss: The whole truth?

Blake: Of course.

Weiss: For realsies.

Yang: just spill it!

Weiss: Alright then, the truth is that I am not the same Weiss you knew from before, I'm actually from eight years in the future. The world was collapsing and there wasn't any hope left as we got stomped by the queen of grimm, that was until I figured out how to mix the magic I received from four magical women with my time dilation glyphs to send my mind back in time, which allows me to try and prevent the disaster before it even has a chance to strike.

R_BY: . . . . . .

Weiss: As for Jaune's case, he's been my lover for the past three years, well, was at least. I had to watch him getting crushed by the weight of responsibility and the things we had to constantly go through, we didn't have time to go on dates, for romance or much of anything else aside from some rare occasions, his mind was constantly haunted by his own mistakes and even the ones he had no fault of, yet he pushed through everything despite how broken he was on the inside. . . . . .that was, until a year ago, where i had to watch him lay down his life to save mine and give me this opportunity to come back and make things right. . . . .So I intend to make use of every last second of this new opportunity he gave me, and I'll make sure to cherish and love him. Jaune will grow into a formidable man, that much i know, and i know the road ahead won't be easy, but this time i'll be there for him, and i'll be damned if i let this world break him a second Time.

R_BY: . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Yang: Y'know. . . . . .you could just tell us if you didn't want to say what's going on.

Blake: Did you just come up with that? Cause that sounds like a really compelling narrative.

Weiss: Would you believe it if I also told you him he's the rusted knight from your favorite fairy tale?

Blake: Heh, that's a funny one. You should write for a living if you ever give up on Being a huntress.

Weiss: *shrugs* I only gave you the answer you asked for.

Ruby: Ohhh, I wonder what a grimm queen would look like. Maybe a giant spider lady with a biiiig head to control other grimm around her with her thoughts.

Weiss: *chuckles* Of course you'd think that.

Yang: *sigh* Well, nevermind all of that, if you don't wanna tell us what's going on we'll give you some space. Just. . . . .try not doing anything stupid, alright nICE-queen?

Weiss: I'll try my best.

She leaves the room, closing the door behind her only to see Jaune in the corridor wearing more casual clothes, looking through his scroll's selfie camera and nervously fiddling with his hair while mumbling something unintelligible. Many things passed through her mind at that moment, most weren't exactly pleasant, but as she stared at the boy whose biggest concern right now was trying to make himself not look stupid for a date, she couldn't help but feel an incredible warmth building up inside her chest.

Weiss: *giggles*

Jaune: W-Weiss!? *Pink* H-how long have you been there!?

Weiss: I don't know, how long have you been playing with your hair?

Jaune: I-i just. . . . . Y'know. . . . .it's getting a little too long and i-

He stopped as Weiss reached out for his head, brushing his hair with her hand and putting it the way it was normally.

Weiss: I like the longer hair. Also, don't try too hard to style it, it already looks perfect like this.

Jaune: W-well. . . .if you say so. You look really nice.

Weiss: Thanks, you look quite good too.

Jaune: hehe, thanks. Well. . . . should we-

"Miss schnee"

Jaune was cut by none other than the headmaster, who joined them shortly after with his mug in hand as always.

Weiss: Yes?

Ozpin: We looked into the matters you warned us about, and you'll be happy to know we got to isolate the little "surprise" they had hidden in the system for us. As of now me and a few others are going to miss Fall's room to. . . ."discuss" some matters, would you like to join us?

Weiss: It won't be necessary, I'm sure you're already doing what's necessary.

Ozpin: Very well, there's still more I would like to discuss but you seem to be busy at the moment. Please contact me once you're free.

Weiss: Will do.

Ozpin: A good evening for you, and for you as well mister Arc. *Leaves*

Jaune: . . . . . .what was that?

Weiss: Nothing much, don't worry about it.

Jaune: Uhmm. . . .okay. Should we go-!?

Weiss: *hugging his arm and smiling* Let's go.

And off they went to their date, the first of many more to come, Jaune didn't think this day would ever come but every glance at the ivory beauty hugging his arm proved him wrong and made his heart race inside his ribcage, he didn't know what he did to deserve this, but he knew he was going to thank the gods for it for the rest of his life

[readyforthegarden]

Breakable Heaven - Part Six

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Female Reader

Synopsis: Being the maid of honor in your best friends wedding is already stressful enough without the best man being the ex-boyfriend who tore your heart to shreds. Stumbling across a dating app with dates for hire, you take a chance, inviting a perfect stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend for the weeklong celebrations. But how long can the charade last when the champagne starts pouring and feelings start growing?

Warnings: drinking, swearing, smut (oral f!receiving, fingering, penatrative sex, 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

WC: 7696

“Mm, a little lower,” your muffled moan barely made it out from the bed. Large hands worked their way down your spine, a sigh releasing from your body. “Right there, that’s the spot.”

“Wasn’t this the best idea?” Olivia groaned from her own massage table, making you hum in response. “Mike made fun of me for having this after camping but I bet he’s jealous.”

“I know Danny is,” you sighed again when the masseuse began working on your left hip. “I could tell his back was sore after last night.” Olivia lifted her head, a sleepy smirk playing on her face.

“Oh? And why is that?” waggling her eyebrows, she rested her chin in her hand and waited for the answer.

“I almost died of hypothermia, that’s why.” rolling your eyes, you also propped your body up. “If I could’ve melded together with him, I would have.”

“I mean, there were ways to keep warm.” Olivia shrugged. “I know I worked up quite a sweat last night.”

“I’m so happy for you, Liv.” you deadpanned. “I didn’t really feel like getting nasty in a tent near my ex.” Olivia scoffed. 

“They were fighting all night, Mike and I had to hook up to drown it out.” she laid back down. “Naomi was maaaaad.”

“I have nothing to say,” you tried to hide the satisfied smirk on your face, and failed. 

“You’re allowed to be petty,” Olivia said. “Your boyfriend knocked your ex-boyfriend on his ass for tripping you in a dumb flag football game. And he looked hot as fuck when he was angry.” Olivia was correct in that, upon your reflection of the previous day. Danny’s usual cheery and kind demeanor turning dark and moody had started something in you. You couldn’t help but remember how his jaw had clenched as he glared at Gavin after setting you in the camping chair. 

He had checked on you at least twice since you’d gotten out of the shower, once through the door, offering to get extra towels so you didn’t slip on the steamy tile floors. And a second time as you slipped on some sneakers, as a small wince graced your features. You assured him you were fine, but he made sure to remind you to tell the masseuse it was tender. While his outward demeanor was sweet and tender, you could still see the lingering anger at what and who caused your mild injury. 

“He was something, alright.” you mused. 

“I hope you gave him a good thank you when you got back to the room this morning.” Olivia sighed, laying down as her masseuse began working on her shoulders. 

“He was thanked incredibly well,” you assured Olivia. She continued to prattle and dig details out of you, and you supplied little fibs, playing coy to spare the spa workers in the room any embarrassment. 

A few miles away, Danny was looking down into a jewelry case, looking at various necklaces and rings, glittering with different colors and cuts of stones. He wondered for a moment, how that pear cut sapphire pendant would compliment your complexion. Danny imagined presenting it to you, and seeing your face light up, turning quickly so he could put it on you. Lifting up your hair as he brought the delicate chain around your neck, letting the pendant rest against your decolletage as he fastened the clasp. The way you would let your hair fall as soon as it was fastened, turning around to show him how it looked before springing up and kissing him in thanks.

“You ready?” Mike tore him from his thoughts, walking over with a large bag. “I think the guys will really love these watches, thanks for coming with me.”

“No problem, it’s nice to have something to do while the girls are all together.”

“Oh yeah.” Mike agreed, looking down at where Danny’s vision was occupied. “Ah, thinking of getting a gift for someone special?” Danny chuckled under his breath, realizing that his imagination really did have him considering the necklace. “She does love sapphires, Olivia got her some earrings a few years ago for her birthday, you would’ve thought it was a check for a million dollars.”

“I don’t know…it might be too early.” Danny bit his bottom lip as he thought, while Mike just shrugged.

“Never too early to spoil the one you love.” he replied back. “Besides, six months is a big deal, especially with how she swore off actual relationships.”

“I didn’t know that,” Danny furrowed his brows slightly, glancing over to Mike, who sighed. 

“Listen, I try to stay out of the gossip between the girls, but I do end up hearing some things.” he waved over the jeweler to the counter, and continued as the older woman finished putting things away from another sale. “She was really hurt by Gavin. She told Olivia she would never get into a serious relationship again, strictly hook-ups and one night stands, and Olivia said she was deadly serious.”

“I get it,” Danny shrugged, “She didn’t want to risk her heart breaking again.” Mike nodded, greeting the sales woman and gesturing to the sapphire necklace.

“Danny, I’ve seen the way you two look at each other,” Mike said softly. “It’s the way I look at Olivia. And if she kept you a secret for six months, she must really have feelings for you, and she’s scared that something like that is going to happen again.”

“I would never.” Danny’s eyes flashed, shaking his head before turning to the jeweler who was holding out the pendant to him. The stone sparkled under the bright lights, and Danny felt more and more certain that something that beautiful was supposed to belong to you. Mike watched Danny’s face carefully. 

“I believe you,” Mike finally said. “Olivia is still sizing you up, but I believe you.” Danny glanced back at the man. “I think you should get it for her.”

“This is a gorgeous necklace, and it is on sale right now!” the woman holding it against her palm smiled. “Is this for a special occasion? I can gift wrap it!”

“It's just because,” Danny smiled. “But yeah, I’ll take it. Go ahead and gift wrap it.” Mike grinned as Danny paid for the jewelry, taking the small gift bag in his large hand and following Mike out of the store. 

“Do you mind if we just walk around a little? I’m not ready to go back to the winery.” Mike asked Danny. “I know the next two days I’m gonna be cooped up while Olivia runs around and gets ready.”

“Yeah, we can bum around a little.” Danny smiled. The more time he took to get back, the more of a chance you’d be in the room when he did. The necklace was already burning a hole in his pocket, he wanted to run back on his own two legs and find you, thrust it into your hands and watch you light up. The two men popped in and out of a few stores, looking at local trinkets, sweatshirts with the name of the city they were in and a few other handmade goods. Mike tried his hand at haggling over an ornate hand carved clock at a trading post themed store, while Danny continued to look away. 

A wall was lined with old whiskey barrels, and as Danny peered into them, he found different candies in them. As he gazed over the gummy fish, chocolate coins, and various old fashioned candies, his eyes caught something. In the second to last barrel, there were the exact suckers you had told Danny his eyes looked like. Without thinking, he shoved his hand in the barrel, grabbing a handful and bringing them up to the counter.

They decided to head back after Mike’s failed bargaining, the clock remaining in the store. Danny didn’t want to stir the pot, he shouldn’t, because he was only temporary, but he felt the question cloying in his throat, and had to ask.

“If everyone is upset with Gavin, why is he in the wedding?” Danny turned to Mike. “You don’t seem to be happy about it either.”

“It’s…complicated.” Mike grimaced as kept his eyes on the road. “My parents are really good friends with his parents, and it was going to cause far more trouble to not have him than it would to have him.” Danny nodded. He understood that choosing battles was something everyone had to do. “Honestly, Gavin had us all fooled. Everyone thought I knew about Naomi, but I didn’t. It was just as much as a shock to me. And Gavin was like my brother, I just…I haven’t been able to fully forgive him.”

“It seems like he betrayed a lot of people.” Mike nodded. 

“Yeah. I’m hoping after the wedding, I can finally make a clean break, use that as an excuse for why we’re not around as much, or going out.” Mike sighed, glancing over to Danny. “I’m happy you’re here. You’ve kept him in his place, even if you didn’t know it.”

“Yeah?” Danny couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corner of his lips. “I probably shouldn’t have gotten so rough in flag football…”

“Honestly? Most of us were happy you did.” Mike laughed. “It’s been a long time since Gavin has been cut down to size.”

“My honey wasn’t too happy that I resorted to it.” Danny chuckled, making Mike laugh. 

“Well, your honey is a liar, because she was grinning the entire time it happened,” he responded. “And anyway, I’m happy you’re here because of her. She became like a little sister to me in college and I was worried about this week. You’ve brought her back to who she was, but better.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Mike said, grinning over to Danny. “You’ve definitely brought her spark back, Danny.” Danny didn’t say anything, pressing his lips together to try and stop himself from smiling like an idiot. 

Danny said goodbye to Mike in the lobby and raced up the stairs to your room, eager to see if you were there or not. There was no trace of you in the living room, but as he stepped into the bedroom, he saw a trail of clothes leading to the bathroom, the door shut and light coming from beneath the door. The sound of the shower running greeted him, and he realized he had some time. 

Nervous, Danny paced around the room, hiding away the candy in his bedside drawer, but leaving out the box with the necklace. The gift wrapping was beautiful, but Danny suddenly felt it was too much, and ripped it away, tossing the torn paper into the trash bin in the living room. The simple, black velvet box looked much better to him, making him feel better. 

He watched the minutes tick by, going back and forth on if he was really going to give you the necklace. Was it too late to take a car and return it? Act like it never happened? How were you going to respond to a gift like this? As he worried himself, he missed you leaving the bathroom, being startled by you calling his name. 

“Hey, you’re back.” you smiled. Danny turned, keeping his arms behind his back. He took in your appearance, wrapped up in a plush robe. Your hair was clipped up on top of your head keeping it dry. Your cheeks were rosy and your eyes almost sleepy.

“Yeah,” he smiled back. “You look relaxed.”

“Mm, the spa was amaaazing,” you sighed. “I got the massage, got my hair retouched, my eyebrows and nails done.” you lifted your hands up in front of him, wiggling your fingers. Your nails had been shaped into soft, rounded points, a sheer, sparkling pink. 

“They look very nice.” he smiled, moving one hand and holding your wrist delicately in it to get a better view. Your smile widened at his compliment, before you realized he was keeping something from you.

“What are you up to?” one of your eyebrows raised curiously as you tried to peek around his broad shoulders to see what he had behind him. Danny shifted his body to try and hide the box, nervous again now that the moment was here. “Danny,” you said with a laugh. “What do you have?”

You tried reaching around him but he dodged your hands, turning and walking backwards. 

“Okay, promise you won’t freak out,” Danny started, laughing as you followed him.

“What’s behind your back, Danny?”

“When I was out with Mike, I found something.” Danny started, pausing, causing you to stop in your brief chase. “It’s a little….much.”

“Danny, come on!” you laughed impatiently. Danny took in a deep breath, and brought the case from behind his back. He watched your smile fall a bit, as your face studied the item confusedly. “Danny, what is that?”

“Mike convinced me to get it for you,” he said softly, opening up the velvet box. The small gasp that left your mouth was enough to make Danny grin as he watched your eyes light up, just like in his fantasy. “It’s never too early to spoil the one you love, and all that.”

“Danny, I-” you shook your head. “You absolutely didn’t have to buy me jewelry at all. I can’t accept that!”

“Well, I did,” Danny took the necklace from the box, tucking the box under his arm and unclasping the delicate silver chain. You gave him a half-hearted disapproving look before turning and allowing him to place the necklace around your neck, fastening it with his nimble fingers. You glanced down, watching the pendant glimmer in the muted sunlight that poured in from the gauzy curtains in the living room. Your hand came up to touch it, gently grazing over the facets. Once it rested against your skin, you turned again, looking up at Danny. 

Danny swallowed roughly, glancing down at where the pendant laid, just above your cleavage, almost hidden by the collar of your robe.

“Danny, this is beautiful,” you sighed, near tears from how overwhelming the gift was. “I’ll take good care of it, and we can return it after the wedding, I promise. You didn’t need to spend money like this on me.” 

“Hey, it’s yours.” Danny reached out, taking your hand away from the pendant. “Consider it a gift, since I’ve had such a good time with you.”

“Danny-”

“You’re keeping it.” Danny chuckled, letting go of your hand. Nodding, you crossed your arms over your chest, instinctually reaching up with one hand and toying with the pendant. “It looks beautiful on you.”

“Thank you,” you accepted the compliment softly. “I should go get dressed…”

“Yeah,” Danny nodded, feeling the awkward tension between you as he watched you leave to the bedroom, shutting the doors. Setting the necklace box on the coffee table, Danny ran his hands over his face, his gut twisting that he’d ruined everything. That the next two days were going to be an agony of awkwardness because he got you that stupid necklace. After pacing the room again, he sat on the couch, taking his phone from his pocket, he opened up his messages. He debated sending one to Sam, asking him for advice or how badly he fucked up, but before he could, the double doors opened, and you came out. 

“You can go and change, I was going to do my makeup out here so you didn’t have to rush.” Danny looked up, watching you walk out in a light blue, silk dress. As you walked by, he noticed the back of your dress was unzipped. 

“Do you want me to-?” Danny stood up, gesturing to your dress. Nodding silently, you turned, allowing him to zip you in, much like your first night. 

“Listen, I’m not mad,” you murmured. “I’m flattered, really, but I’m not used to gifts like this. Especially from someone that…” what you wanted to say was someone that you had feelings for, that was only pretending to have them for you. Someone you found yourself head over heels for that was just a really good actor. 

“I wanted to do it.” Danny assured you, ignoring that the end of your unfinished sentence was more than likely ‘I only see as a friend.’. “I saw it and thought you would like it, and if it makes you feel better, it was on sale.”

“It…does make me feel better.” you pursed your lips as Danny brought his finger under your chin, lifting it up slightly. 

“And after this weekend, you’ll have it as a way to remember me when I’m away on tour and can’t hang out.” That thought made you smile, and you couldn’t help it. “I’ll be right back.” Danny left you in the living room as he got ready for dinner, and you settled at the table, starting your makeup. You chose a simple look, and were done by the time Danny re-emerged from the suite, dressed in nice black pants, a  half-buttoned white button down shirt, and black blazer. 

“You look handsome,” you complimented as he slid on his shoes. Danny smiled, watching you struggle with the ankle clasp of your heels. 

“Here, let me,” before you could protest, he was kneeling in front of you, your foot propped up on his knee as his large fingers deftly fastened one, then the other. You tried to fight the butterflies in your stomach as his large hand wrapped around your calf, gently placing it to the floor before picking up your other one. His palms were warm and you hope that he didn’t feel the goosebumps forming on your flesh from the contact. “There, how do those feel?” He helped you stand up from the chair, having you step a bit to make sure they weren’t too loose.

“They’re great, thank you.” the two of you headed down to dinner quietly, taking your seats and settling in. Dinner had already been served when Olivia called your name, directing your attention to her, where she complimented your new necklace. Mike and Danny exchanged glances across the table, a thumbs up from Mike that Danny nodded gratefully to. 

“It goes great with her dress tonight, doesn’t it?” Danny reached over, gently grazing the pendent with his fingers proudly. 

“Looks cheap,” a comment came from down the table, everyone shooting looks at Naomi. She rolled her eyes as she pushed her mixed greens salad around her plate. 

“Price doesn’t matter to me,” you responded coolly, looking directly at her for the first time in months. “It’s the thought behind it, and I think it’s gorgeous.” 

I do too,” Olivia shot a challenging look, making Naomi purse her lips and focus on her plate. 

“What did you do to have to buy a gift like that?” Gavin dug further, taking a sip of his whiskey as he stared Danny down. Danny cleared his throat, putting his arm around the back of your chair. 

“Unlike you, I treat my partners with respect. I got her the necklace because I love her and wanted to do something special for her.” Danny informed the other man, glaring at him, but with a smile on his face. “She deserves the world, and I plan on giving it to her.” 

“Gonna be hard when you’re gone all the time,” Gavin shot back. “You don’t think that’ll throw a wrench in those plans?”

“She’ll come with me on tour,” Danny shrugged as your hands twisted your napkin in your lap anxiously. “We communicate and make it work. It’s something important to us.” Danny took your hand under the table, squeezing it in his. 

“She doesn’t leave her couch, I’m surprised you’d get her onto a tour bus.” Gavin snorted. “But I guess the idea of being a groupie and tossed around by your band is too tantalizing to pass up, huh?” Before Danny could reply, Gavin was sputtering as red wine dripped down his face. Your hand had left Danny’, and was now holding your empty wine glass as you stood, glaring at Gavin. Without saying another word, you stormed out of the dining room, leaving a wake of perfume and merlot behind you as voices mixed together in shouts. 

“Honey, wait,” Danny was hot on your heels, and you turned when you were far enough away from the dining room. “Honey, please,”

“I’m not going back.” you shook your head, sniffling. “I’m not apologizing and I’m not going back.” Danny placed his hands on your upper arms. 

“I wouldn’t ask you to.” Danny soothed you. “He deserved it.” Tears welled up in your eyes at his soft tone, and you moved out of his grasp to hide them. 

“I ruined dinner, I shouldn’t have let him get to me.” your sudden tears had Danny standing back, waiting for a signal he was needed. “And you, you weren’t even phased by him.” 

“I deal with assholes all the time with my job, I’ve learned how to handle them.” Danny told you. 

“Everyone probably thinks I fuck your whole band now that he put that out there.” Danny shook his head, opening his mouth to speak, but was cut off. “No! They’re always going to wonder if it’s true!”

“Honey, no one thinks that.” Danny assured you, taking your arms again. When you didn’t pull away, he pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around your body as you sniffled into his blazer. “I can promise you they think Gavin and Naomi are absolutely horrible people. Gavin is so bitter you’ve moved on and he lost the best thing that could ever happen to him, and Naomi is stuck with a man who wishes she were you. They’re pathetic.”

You couldn’t help but allow yourself to melt into the warmth of Danny’s body as he soothed you. You could feel the anger and anxiety leaving your body as his hands ran up and down your back. But your face grew hot with embarrassment and you pushed away, turning and covering your face, wiping any stray tears away from your red face. Danny moved away, giving you space while you straightened yourself out. Stationing himself, he leaned against the cool, stone wall, ready to take you in his arms again should the resolve you were building crumble.  

Turning back, you gave him a sad smile, your eyes still watery and red. You’d managed to find the few specks of mascara that had made their way to your cheeks, and Danny still thought, red and slightly splotchy, you were still breathtaking.

“I’m sorry, I’m just..I'm starving, all I’ve had today was cucumber water, and I’m so, so upset, I don’t want to go back in there.” Danny pursed his lips, leaning against the wall until his face brightened up.

“Come on, I have an idea.” he pushed himself from the wall and held out his hand to you. Slipping your palm into his, you let him lead you back inside, down a back hallway. 

“Where are we going?” you asked, your heels clicking softly as you tried to keep up with his long strides. 

“To get you real food.” your brow creased until Danny pushed open a door, leading you into the winery’s kitchen. It was completely empty now that dinner was over, pristine stainless steel shining when Danny found the lightswitch.

“We’re going to get in trouble,” you worried your bottom lip between your teeth as Danny looked around.. 

“Only if we get caught,” Danny smirked back before finding the fridge. He opened the double doors, taking his time and looking at everything it had to offer. You, on the other hand, kept glancing towards the door, waiting for an angry chef to barge in at any moment. “Aha!” you watched Danny reach into the fridge and tuck some ingredients in his arms, shutting the doors a bit louder than you would’ve liked. He came around a large table, laying out all the ingredients in front of him. He searched around a little more, finding a plate and knife, before turning the flat-top on and setting to work.

“A grilled cheese?” you asked softly, making Danny turn to you with a grin.

“The best grilled cheese you’ve ever had,” he defended. “Just you wait.” you leaned against the prep table, watching him slather two slices of sourdough bread with butter before plopping them onto the flat-top, butter-side down. The sizzle made your stomach rumble, and you licked your lips as Danny scurried around, slicing the block of cheese as quickly as possible and tossing a few slices on each piece of bread. He buttered two more slices of bread and placed them on top of the cheese.

“They already smell so good,” you sighed, watching Danny as he found a spatula and checked the bottom slices for doneness.  Your eyes never left him, watching him work over a simple sandwich. 

“The key is grilling it low and slow,” Danny informed you over his shoulder. “You want that cheese nice and gooey, but the bread is just perfectly browned.” Danny flipped the first sandwich, and you watched the savory golden brown bread shine under the lights in the kitchen. You held yourself back from tapping your foot anxiously, reminding yourself Danny was being gracious enough to cook something for you. 

Once Danny was satisfied with his cooking, he grabbed the plate, placing the sandwiches on them before joining you at the prep table again. The knife he used to spread the butter crunched through the bread making your mouth water. Danny held up a sandwich, splitting it apart and watching the cheese pull like it was a commercial.

“Danny, that looks amazing,” you smiled. “But if you don’t give me that sandwich I am going to turn into a horrible monster.” chuckling, Danny handed you half, watching as you bit into it. Your eyes were closed, a moan rumbling in your throat as you chewed. “Oh my god, it’s so good.”

“I told you so,” Danny smiled around his own bite of his half. The two of you shared your sandwiches quietly before cleaning up, making sure no one would notice anything out of place. Instead of going back to your room, you and Danny walked around the winery.

“It’s kind of sad this is our first chance to really explore this place, and everything is closed for the night.” you mumbled. “It really is beautiful.”

“It is.” Danny agreed, stopping before a set of double doors, looking at the sign and pointing at it with his phone. “Wanna check out the reception set-up?”

“I don’t think they’ll have much set up, the rehearsal isn’t until tomorrow.” you shrugged. “Besides, it’s probably locked to-” Danny tried the doors, tugging one open and grinning back at you. “Security is not tight around here.”

“More fun for us!” Danny ushered you in, letting the door close behind him. The stage was already halfway furnished for the live band Olivia had booked for the party, a baby grand sitting off to the side. The room was lit only by a few canned lights above the stage, illuminating the instruments in a soft glow. A few tables were covered with white tablecloths, sage green accents adorning them.

Danny sat down at the baby grand piano on the small stage, his long fingers setting up shop upon the keys before glancing up.

“Any requests?” he smiled softly over to you. Thinking for a moment as you climbed the steps to the stage, you shrugged.

“The place is set up for a wedding, know anything romantic?” Danny grinned, tucking his head down and letting his fingers begin to dance along the keys. He gave a small flourish to the beginning of the song, and it took you a moment to understand what he was singing.

“Hold me close and hold me fast, the magic spell you cast, this is ‘la vie en rose’,” Danny’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it made something stir in your heart. His voice was soft and sweet and low, as if he was shy to sing in front of you, but still wanted to do it. “When you kiss me, heaven sighs, and though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose’.”

“I love this song,” you rested your hands on the lid of the piano. “My grandpa would play it for my grandma every Saturday night, and she would dance next to the piano.”

“It’s a beautiful song.” Danny smiled up at you, his fingers never breaking from the melody. “How would she dance?” he asked curiously. Blushing, you cleared your throat.

“Well, since grandpa was playing, he couldn’t very well waltz with her,” you stepped away from the piano, holding your arms up and out in front of you. It looked like you were dancing with an invisible partner, holding their shoulder in one hand, and their invisible hand in the other. You began the box step your grandmother would do next to the piano, pressing down the feeling of looking incredibly silly. If Danny could sing in front of you, you could be as vulnerable too. “She would dance like this.” 

You proceeded to spin into the little waltz, giggling as you remembered your grandmother humming along to your grandpa’s playing. After a few years, her humming would be his guide, as grandpa’s fingers weren’t as nimble as they once were. You were so deep in the memories of your childhood, that you hadn’t noticed Danny no longer playing the song. You felt a hand at your waist and suddenly yours were filled, a shoulder under your left one and his own left hand clasped in your right. He was humming the song now, the hand on your waist pulling you in close. 

“My mom taught me to never let a woman dance by herself.” he murmured before continuing his humming. The two of you moved together, Danny near-expertly waltzing with you, and shocking you a bit as he gently spun you out and pulled you back into his arms. Instead of keeping your hands that were clasped together outside your bodies, Danny brought them in between your bodies, resting them against his chest. You weren’t sure what was coming over you, but when he rested his forehead against yours you felt a strange sense of peace, letting your eyes flutter shut.

His breath was warm across your face as he let out a sigh, and you felt yourself tilting your chin up, hoping his lips were close. You were practically vibrating with nervous energy as his grip on your hand tightened, tucking you closer into his chest. You swore you could feel the softest graze of his lips against yours before a loud thunk, jolting the two of you apart.

“Hey, you can’t be in here!” an employee called out from the doors, making you and Danny scramble off the stage, apologizing profusely. The two of you were laughing the whole way as you scurried out, only to laugh harder when you tripped a little in your heels, Danny near picking you up to get you out of the room. Your hand was clasped tightly in his as he led you back down the hallway and through the lobby.

“I told you we’d get in trouble!” you called out to him as you followed him up the stairs.

“We didn’t! We got out of there!” Danny laughed back, pulling the keycard from his pants pocket and swiping it at your door. The lock clicked and you rushed inside as if the employee had been chasing you both, shutting the door quickly.

Both you and Danny were panting as you walked into the room, and you took the moment to lean against the arm of the couch, undoing your shoes and tossing them to the side. 

“Danny, do you mind?” you asked, pulling your hair around front, reaching behind you for your zipper. Danny nodded, coming over and grasping the pull in his hand. As he dragged the zipper down, you felt his knuckles graze down your spine, following the path. When the zipper was all the way down, his touch didn’t stop. His knuckles trailed up and down your back softly, causing you to shiver almost imperceptibly. 

Turning around, you looked up at Danny, his eyes dark as they regarded you carefully. Taking in a deep breath, you licked your lips before speaking again.

“Danny, in the reception hall earlier,” you started, pausing as he stepped closer.

“Yeah?”

“Were you going to kiss me?”

“Yes.” 

“But…no one was around.” you whispered. 

“What if I was going to kiss you,” he brought a hand up, pushing your hair back from your face. “Just because I wanted to?”

“That-That would be fine.” you nodded as he got even closer.

“And what if I wanted to do more than just kiss you?” he asked, trailing his hand down to your mouth, letting his thumb gently tug at your bottom lip.

“What about your rule?” your voice cracked softly, your nerves and excitement getting the best of you as you pressed your body closer to his, the tension becoming so thick between you two.

Danny gazed down at you, his lips parted slightly and one arm grasped your waist, holding you flush against his own body. The other of his large hands slid up the back of your neck, cradling your head as his fingers threaded in your hair, tilting your head back. 

“Fuck it, we’re breaking the rule.” he breathed out, pressing his lips hotly against yours. You let your body melt against his, grasping at his shirt to keep yourself from toppling both of you over. Every other thought dissipated from your mind, the only one remaining was Danny’s large, warm hands and how badly you needed them on you, everywhere, all at once.

Neither of you could get close enough to the other, grinding your bodies together until Danny’s hands left your waist and head, only to grab at the backs of your thighs, tugging them towards him until you jumped, wrapping your legs around his hips as he turned and pressed your back to the wall. 

Cupping his face, you smashed your lips against his, eager to taste him again as he ground himself against you. The feeling of his erection through his pants against your clothed core was enough to send jolt through your entire body. Moving your hips with his, you began to work yourself up, panting between tastes of his lips and tongue.

“Danny,” you sighed against his lips. “I need to feel you, please,” a groan rumbled from Danny’s chest at your breathy pleading, and he readjusted his grip before moving you away from the wall, lips sealed to yours still. 

Your bottom came into contact with the soft bed, and you realized Danny’s hands had traveled during his movements, pushing the skirt of your dress up over your hips. He continued to move them further, pulling away and watching as you wordlessly moved your arms up in the air, letting him pull the garment off and toss it away. Expecting him to return to you, you took a breath, lips quivering with anticipation, anxious for his kiss, but instead Danny stepped back.

His eyes were dark as they locked with yours, and you watched his hands come to his front, beginning to work on the buttons of his shirt slowly. Your eyes were laser focused on his nimble fingers, but you allowed yourself to glance up to his eyes, catching them flicker from your face down to your chest, which was heaving with anticipation. Danny’s mouth was also taking in deep breaths, open as he worked his shirt open. 

It was slow motion, as the shirt opened fully, and he reached up, pushing it off his shoulders and letting it fall down his arms. Your eyes followed the trail of exposed skin, tracing the tattoo on his bicep quickly, itching to call to him and bring him closer so your fingers could do the same. His pants moved quicker, and soon he was gently ushering you back on the bed, his hands on the waistband of your paintes, letting your movements as you shuffled ease them down your legs.

After he tossed those aside, he watched as you spread your legs in front of him, welcoming his body in as he kneeled in front of you, naked as well. The sight of you in nothing but the necklace he gave you made his stomach tighten. The tension was growing thick between the both of you, your skin growing hot from his eyes drinking you in. Your cheeks flushed as he studied your body, and you felt a whine building up in your chest.

“Danny, touch me, please?” it broke through your lips, desperate and your body arched under his gaze, urging him into what you wanted. Danny’s lips tugged into a smile, the tip of his tongue between his teeth. He slowly leaned forward until the tip of his nose grazed just under your belly button. You gasped as his warm lips pressed against the cool skin of your stomach, beginning a trail down your pelvis. Another gasp left you as his tongue slowly glided over your clit, letting the tip flick it once before he kissed it. 

“Is this what you wanted, honey?” Danny murmured softly, adjusting his body to lay between your legs. He snaked an arm under your thigh, bringing his hand around rubbing slow circles around the swollen bud. Leaning in again, Danny gave your pussy another long stroke of his tongue, humming to himself. “You said my eyes looked like candy, but I think you’re the one made of sugar.”

“I’ll be whatever you want, just please don’t stop.” you sighed, looking down your body at him. Danny grinned wolfishly, snaking his other arm under your other thigh and tugging your thighs even further apart, delving his head between them. Your head fell back with a moan, the tingling pressure already building up in your abdomen as Danny’s mouth worked you over. His left hand gripped your thigh tightly, fingertips digging into the flesh, as if he was using the grip to try and reach his tongue further into you before it came back and looped around your clit. “F-feels so good,”

You could feel Danny smile against your core, causing you to roll your hips against his face. He relished the movements, letting you take control for a minute or two before raising his right hand from your thigh, splaying it onto your pelvis and pressing down, holding your hips in place for him. Danny began alternating between kitten licks and sucking your clit as he let his left hand untangle itself from your leg and brought his index and middle fingers to tease your slit. 

Wiggling your hips the best that you could, you heard Danny’s laugh, felt the vibrations of it on his lips as you tried to coax his fingers into you further. You were learning quickly that Danny was not one to leave you wanting, as he coated his fingers in your slick before pressing into you. The pressure that was building up in your pelvis was causing your back to arch as Danny’s fingers pumped in and out of you, moans spilling from your mouth between gasps of breath. 

“Don’t stop Danny, I’m so close!” you cried. Your words seemed to send him into overdrive, his fingers curling as the thrust in and tongue speeding up, whimpers escaping your throat, forming around his name as tingles shot through your body, the pressure finally breaking. Danny worked you through your orgasm, slowing his pace before withdrawing his fingers, and finally, after a few more strokes that made your body twitch, withdrew his mouth and tongue from you. 

You watched as he popped his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them off with his eyes closed, savoring the taste of you before taking them out with a soft pop. He opened his eyes, staring directly at you before leaning down, crawling up your recovering body. Danny’s lips captured yours in a searing kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself. Moaning into his mouth, you felt him settle his body against yours, his hard cock warm on your inner thigh. 

Pulling away, Danny supported himself on one arm, looking down at your flushed face. Before he could make another move, you reached up, taking your hand and letting the tips of your nails trail through his chest hair and down abdomen gently, causing the large man to shiver above you. Smirking, you let your nails gently scratch along the trail of dark, coarse hair until you reached the base of his cock.  Looking up into his eyes, you wrapped your hand around his length, pumping him letting your thumb brush over the head. Danny let out a shuddering breath, dipping his head into the crook of your neck as your hand ran up and down his shaft. 

Lifting himself up again, he let the hand not supporting him wrap around your wrist, halting your movements. Instead, you shifted your hips, letting Danny move again and you guided him to you, moaning softly as you ran the head of his cock up and down your soaked pussy. Your hips twitched as you ran him over your overstimulated clit, and Danny smirked, taking a hold of his cock and moving your hand away. 

Danny was slow, he worked his length inside you in small, paced thrusts, letting your walls adjust to him. The feeling of him inside you was incredible, your eyes nearly rolling back just from him finally bottoming out. Danny rested his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes, staying still for a few moments. 

“Fuckin’ incredible,” he panted softly. Swallowing roughly, you nodded in agreement as he pulled his hips back. The pull of his cock was delicious, you eagerly raised your hips to meet his thrusts as he began moving. Sweat was building on both of your bodies, but neither of you cared. Both of you were back into the frenzy of earlier, not being close enough, even with the barriers of clothes gone. 

Your arms wrapped around him, fingernails digging into his back as his thrusts became rougher, dragging down and eliciting a sharp hiss sucked through his teeth in your ear. 

“More,” you cried, “I need more,” Danny grunted softly, moving his body as he slid his arms beneath you, grasping your shoulders and using your own body as leverage to thrust harder and faster. Your body arched again, into Danny’s as his breathing began to get ragged. 

Dragging the tip of his nose across your face, he found your lips again, kissing you sloppily. Moaning into his mouth, you could feel the tension building up again, this time quicker and more exhilarating than before. You began to whimper and writhe beneath him, and Danny dragged his lips back to your ear.

“Are you gonna come again for me, honey?” His voice was low and gruff between shallow sighs and pants. You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as you focused on the pleasure that was shooting through your veins, still waiting for the band to snap again. “I can feel you’re getting so close. Gonna come on my cock like a good girl?” 

“Mhm, Danny,” you nearly sobbed, teetering right on the brink. Tears began to prick your eyes as the tension almost became too much, Danny’s thrusts now bordering on the edge of pain and pleasure. The sound of his skin smacking against yours filled the room, mixing with his low voice reciting filth in your ear, coaxing you to unravel around him with a loud cry. 

“Fuck, fuck, ah!” Danny was breathing through his clenched teeth. “Honey I’m about to-where do you want it?”

“Inside, it’s okay,” you panted, holding Danny’s body tightly to yours to emphasize your words. One of his hands let go of the shoulder it was grasping, and instead he laid his palm flat over the sapphire pendant that rested against your throat now, feeling it dig into his palm as he closed his hand around your neck while he rutted into you. A few moments later, Danny was thrusting erratically, the slapping of his skin beginning to sting before he let out a low, growling sigh, stilling his hips as he spilled himself inside you. Sharp exhales filled your ear, a soft, whimpery moan floating from Danny’s mouth. 

Leaning up, you pressed soft, slow kisses to Danny’s shoulders, letting him take his time to catch his breath as you evened your own out. When he was ready, he slowly pulled back, the feeling of his skin leaving yours almost depressing, though he stayed hovering over you, hands holding himself up on either side of your head. 

“You were right,” you whispered softly. Danny’s brow furrowed curiously as he looked down at you. “You are amazing,” Danny continued to look at you for a few moments before laughing, recalling his tipsy admittance earlier in the week. 

“I don’t lie,” he shook his head, bending down and capturing your lips in a kiss. The movement was soft, slow and sweet, a stark difference to how frenzied they clashed with yours earlier. This softer side suddenly brought your body back from the tiredness you’d been feeling, and you squeezed your legs on Danny’s sides, using the strength you had left to roll both of you over so you were on top of him. 

“Mm, could’ve been a fluke,” you murmured against his lips. “We’ll have to do it again and see if it’s still as good.”

“I’m up for the challenge.” you grinned at his response, feeling him grow hard again while inside you, hands gripping your hips. “Think you can go again?”

“I can go as many times as I please,” you replied smoothly, slowly rocking your body on top of him. “Try and keep up.”

“Oh, I’ll keep up, Honey.”

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[troutfur]

I got the image in my head of Bluestar, as her mental state declines after Tigers betrayal, seeks comfort in a remnant of someone she knew.

With almost all the cats she loved gone from her life, and are in distant Starclanin. Blue is increasingly is drawn the thickets at the edge of the territory (Which have grown out quite a bit) because of the sense of lingering familiarity to them.

Not necessarily a pleasant or good familiarity, but the nostalgia and memories of happier times are there nonetheless.

Just taking a long walk and resting for a minute around the tendrils of the thistle for a moment

So, this mental image inspired a whole ficlet out of me, so, enjoy!

The half-moon hung on the starry night sky as Bluefur walked towards the RiverClan border. She'd just had an argument with Cinderpelt, having forbidden her from making the trip to the Moonstone. And after that and so many moons cooped up in her den she just needed some fresh air.

She felt a tug on her paws, leading her to the RiverClan border. Right at the point where the ThunderClan forest gave way to the sandy banks of the river there was a tangle of thistles, standing tall and proud. She sat about a fox-length away from it and simply dwelt in the silence.

The stubborn plant was the most peculiar thing. Any enemy warrior that tried to cross invariably left with nasty cuts in their pelt, but most ThunderClan warriors could pass through it unharmed. Bluefur was different, though; although never a major injury, the plant had a knack for getting tangled in her pelt or leaving little scratches on her if she tried to go through.

"I never thought I'd be seeking your company, you know?" she meowed eventually. "Seems you are doing well for yourself. I remember a season or two ago I had hope you were finally going to wither."

There was a pause.

Bluefur was unsure what she was expecting before continuing. Could he reply in his current state? Could he even hear her?

"I've been thinking about you a lot more lately," she continued. "I presume you are aware of what your apprentice tried to do."

Out of the corner of her eye, Bluefur noticed a very slight hint of movement in the thistles. Without taking a moment to consider that it could have been the wind or her imagination or something else of the sort, she took that as a response.

"I just..." Bluestar gave a long sigh. "I didn't think you taught him like that. You were many things. Aggressive, rash, sharp-tongued... But would have you killed me to become leader?"

There was another pause. The thistles seemed to remain still this time.

"Did I soften too much?" she meowed. "Was that my problem? Was that that made him think he had to do it?"

Bluefur looked at the ground between her front paws as she went over her memories of these last few years she'd spent as leader. After a few moments she stood up to walk closer to the thistles and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I'd just... taken your offer back when I could."

The thistes rustled vigorously in that instant, and Bluefur flinched. After a couple heartbeats she took a step closer to the thistles once again. "I wonder if you could have come to love them too," she said with a wistful sigh. "Much as raising Whitestorm alongside you made me want to pull my fur out, we didn't do a bad job at all as a team."

The thistles seemed to part slightly, giving her a look the the other bank of the river through its branches. Snowkit... Moonkit... Mosskit... In a sense all three of them had died that night, even if two grown warriors now wore the pelts of the former two.

That pregnancy had come at the most inconvenient time. They had only agreed to remain as empf that long for the Whitepaw's sake. The moment he had his warrior ceremony they had been planning to break up the nest.

But of course he knew immediately that he could have never sired her kits. As much as the idea of half-clanners being associated with him disgusted him, however, he was willing to not denounce them under one condition: step out of the running for deputy. Giving them up had been the only way to get out of check.

As she was lost in thought, the thistles reached out to caress her face. Bluefur immediately raised a paw to her cheek where she felt the thistle connect to her. She held it there for a moment then looked at it. There was no blood drawn.

Bluefur relaxed, letting out her first genuine laugh in many moons. "The things I put up with for Snowclaw..." she meowed. "You really were named well, you know? I still remember how itchy your fur felt back when we were all in the same pfurr. Not having to put up with it any longer is enough to make all those freezing nights in my nest worth it."

Bluefur stayed there for a few more moments, dwelling in the peaceful quiet of the night, before standing up and returning the way she came. The thistles rustled one more time as she left, and she turned to look over her shoulder. "Goodbye, Thistleclaw."

[ollieofthebeholder]

And If Thou Wilt, Forget: a TMA Fanfic

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] || Also on AO3 and my personal website

Chapter 6: I live alone, I look to die alone

It was the first time since Emma’s death that Gertrude didn’t feel she needed to worry about how long she was away from the Archives.

She had begun to suspect in recent years that the key, or keys, to the Watcher’s Crown lay somewhere within the statements and files in her charge, and that Elias knew it as well, so whenever she was gone, she always found herself rushing rather to try and get back as quickly as possible. Jurgen Leitner living beneath the Institute, something she had no intention of telling either Tim or Gerard about, meant at least there was someone keeping an eye on it, but good Lord, the man was a coward of legendary proportions, and she wouldn’t put it past him to run if Elias threatened him. The sorts of things Elias was likely capable of—especially if her theory was correct—would truly be a fate worse than death to someone who had, inadvertent though it may have been, caused as much harm as Leitner had, so maybe it wasn’t wholly unwarranted.

Still, it had been a long time since she’d left someone behind she could really rely on, and she was going to take full advantage of Tim’s offer to handle things. He had a good mind, and his background in publishing—not to mention his acting talent—meant that he could produce incredibly bland, uninformative reports, whether they had a hidden report or not. At first she’d wondered if he was lying about how well things were going, but the fact that she’d received a slightly more excited report that the fancy computer Elias had initially installed in the Archives had caught fire, and that interspersed in that particular report was the hidden message It took all the digital records but only some of the false paper ones, told her that he was actually handling things well.

She’d pretended annoyance, but secretly been pleased, that he had attached a requisition form for an upgraded fire suppressant system in the Archives rather than wait for her to get home. Even if she wouldn’t be able to chase up on it until her return, it was good to get the ball rolling while she wasn’t distracted by immediate concerns.

The problem, as days stretched into weeks and weeks gave way to months, was how little she had found. Again and again there would be a tantalizing hint—here a whiff of something that might be the Stranger, there an incident involving a circus, everywhere the niggling sense that there was something to Know around the next corner—and again and again she would be disappointed. The potential for the Stranger in Paris had turned out to be a rather nasty bit of Corruption; the circus in New Zealand had yielded nothing but an avatar of the Flesh that very much did not consider her a friend but at the very least respected or feared her enough not to consider her food.

The farmer might have considered it a memorial to Toby, but she had looked at the smooth, cold grey concrete and felt a twinge of mourning for Adelard.

Their trip to the United States had been worse, because she felt the Stranger’s presence. More than once she’d heard faint, distant calliope music, but when she went out to investigate, it was always gone before she was able to pinpoint it. She’d even tried ignoring it for two nights before going out to catch it off-guard, but it seemed to know she was coming. Or she was hallucinating. It was possible—she wanted to find the Unknowing, and badly, and she was surprised at how much she wanted to believe it wasn’t in England—but not probable. More than likely the Stranger was taunting her.

At least, Gertrude thought, sipping pensively at the weak, lukewarm excuse for tea she’d got from the station shop, at least they had eliminated some things. The files she’d had Xiaoling pull for her, which would hopefully meet her in Washington instead of following one step behind her all around the world—the last thing she wanted was them going through the Institute—should illuminate details of the Risen War, and a part of her looked forward to being able to tell Tim he was wrong in the best way…or possibly right in the best possible way. And while they had certainly found more evidence of the Hunt’s power building in the wide open spaces at the middle of the United States, she was inclined towards Gerard’s theory that it wasn’t actually interested in completing its ritual.

Speaking of Gerard…

She jerked her tea out of the way as he twitched in his sleep next to her and frowned at him. It seemed as though he was having an incredibly unpleasant nightmare; while he wasn’t crying out—she’d never heard him do so—he was thrashing about, almost but not quite as though he was fighting something off. He was facing away from her, so she couldn’t tell if it was in fear or desperation or determination. She probably ought to wake him, but she also didn’t want to get hurt. After a moment’s deliberation, she took off her heavy woolen coat and draped it over him, hoping the weight would comfort him.

It seemed to work. After a few moments, the movements settled and stilled. Gertrude nodded to herself and took another sip of the tea, but before she could lose herself in her thoughts again, Gerard spoke in a hoarse, half-choked voice. “Fuck.”

“It’s all right, Gerard,” Gertrude said calmly. She was trying to stay out of his head, more because she didn’t want to lean too much into the Ceaseless Watcher unnecessarily than out of any kind of respect for his privacy, but she assumed he was either disturbed by the nightmare or embarrassed at having had it in public. “There’s no one about, and you didn’t hurt anyone.”

Gerard didn’t reply, simply struggled to a sitting position. Gertrude watched him out of the corner of her eye. He normally kept his emotions close to his chest, but there was no disguising the mingled hurt and resignation on his face, just for a moment, before he got himself under control. She pondered for a moment, then decided to give sympathy a try. She wasn’t great at it anymore, but she could make the effort.

“You’re safe,” she said in as reassuring a voice as she could. “It was only a nightmare.”

“I wish,” Gerard mumbled. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his temple slowly.

Gertrude noticed, with some surprise, that his fingers were trembling, ever so slightly. “A memory, then.”

Gerard started to shake his head, then winced and stopped with a faint groan. “Ugh. Do you have any aspirin or anything?”

“I’m afraid not.” It was, perhaps, an unpardonable oversight, but Gertrude rarely needed medications or painkillers, so she never thought to pick any up. “Do you not have any?”

“Took my last ones last night.”

“Well, there must be a shop somewhere in the station.” Gertrude glanced at the departure board. “And our train doesn’t leave for another hour.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Gerard started to stand, then fell back into his seat, his face somehow even paler than usual. He clutched at the armrest as if for support. “Give me a minute.”

Gertrude wasn’t one to worry. At least not about mundane things. The end of the world, the ascendancy of one of the Fourteen, the machinations of the Web—all of those were valid things to worry about. She rarely paid attention to petty concerns like holidays, or birthdays, or physical ailments, not even her own and especially not anyone else’s. Gerard could have walked into their rooms holding his own severed leg and she wouldn’t have cared beyond making sure it didn’t make him the keystone of a ritual. But it did occur to her that Gerard had had rather a lot of headaches lately, and that he seemed to be in a significant amount of pain.

Her first, selfish thought was that the Distortion was stalking them, that it was tormenting Gerard because it couldn’t touch her, but that thought was quickly overruled. Gerard knew the Fears almost as well as she did, and he wouldn’t have bothered with medications if it were something they wouldn’t help. This, then, had to be actual illness. Her natural inclination was to tell him to brace up, to remind him that they had work to do and no time for weakness. Perhaps, begrudgingly, she would get up and get those painkillers for him herself, less because she wanted to help and more because it would be faster than if she expected him to go himself in this state.

Something, however, stopped her, even as the words rose on her tongue. It might have been the way Gerard clung to the bench as if afraid it would move out from under him if he didn’t, his head tilted carefully to one side but not quite resting on his shoulder, an odd posture that looked as though he was patiently waiting for something to fall out of his ear. It might have been the fact that, despite being in so much pain he couldn’t stand or even see, he was bearing up without complaint—for fear, she knew without even needing the Eye’s power, that if he wasn’t useful she would discard him, either leaving him behind or killing him outright. It might have even been that she’d come this far and could hardly abandon her attempt at sympathy.

Possibly, though not likely, it might have been the fact that the station was beginning to fill up, and ignoring such an obviously ill person would have drawn more attention than simply helping him.

“Do you tend to have migraines?” she asked, keeping her voice as low and soft as she felt she could.

“No.” Gerard’s voice was a mere thread. “Not until the last few months. And I wouldn’t call them migraines exactly. Just really nasty headaches. It’ll ease up in a bit.”

Gertrude decided not to quibble about the medical terminology. “How frequent?”

“More and more often lately.”

“How would you describe them?”

Gerard smiled feebly. “Like someone’s trying to bore a hole in my brain with a really, really smooth rock.”

Gertrude thought for a minute. She was no medical professional, and while she could use the Eye to know what kind of headaches he was having, she would prefer not to. “Do they often correlate to…dreams or memories? Do you usually get them when you’re falling asleep?”

“Wh—oh.” Gerard bit his lip briefly. “I, uh, I wasn’t asleep.”

On the other end of the platform, the phone in the hands of a burly-looking man in a cap with a bear on the front burst to life, loudly playing a news report about some sort of sporting event or other. He cursed rather inventively, obviously not having expected that, and fumbled to try and turn the sound down. Gertrude was turning to offer to get the painkillers for Gerard after all when a single phrase slid into her ear and down her spine like a cold, metal lance.

In another universe, perhaps, she ignored it. In another universe, she dismissed it as a coincidence, continued with her original plan, and bought a travel-size bottle of Tylenol at an outrageous markup. In another universe, she boarded the train from Chicago to Pittsburgh and noticed nothing amiss for nearly two weeks before circumstances dictated otherwise.

But then, in another universe, she had stayed away from the obvious temptation of a statement that could possibly have made a difference in her plans and never actually met Timothy Rodolfo Stoker.

"You weren’t having a nightmare, were you?” she asked, her voice sharpening without conscious thought.

Gerard flinched, but answered honestly. “No.”

“Or a flashback of some kind.”

“No, just…” Gerard gestured vaguely with one hand. It had, at least, stopped shaking.

That didn’t make her feel any better. “Involuntary, uncontrollable movement. Has that happened before?”

“Two days ago,” Gerard admitted. “I didn’t black out or anything, and I figured…I mean, it was a pretty bad headache. Natural I should just hurt so much I couldn’t move right, yeah?”

Understandable, certainly, but Gertrude couldn’t shake the sudden conviction that there was something seriously wrong, something causing it. She watched him carefully tip his head up straight, then asked, “Does that help?”

“Yeah. Maybe. I dunno. Might be a placebo effect thing. But they always start here.” Gerard lightly touched a spot on the side of his skull. “First few times, it felt like someone was balancing a weight on my head, so I thought maybe if I leaned it the other way it’d ease up the pressure. And it kind of helps. A little. At any rate, it gives me something to concentrate on other than the pain.”

That settled it. There were simply too many red flags. Gertrude tightened her hand around the handle of her laptop bag. “Can you walk now?”

“I—I think so.”

“Good.” Gertrude stood decisively. “Come on.”

Gerard obeyed, a bit more slowly and gingerly, but without argument. He did look confused, though. “Thought our train didn’t leave for another hour or so.”

“Seventy-two minutes.” Gertrude didn’t bother telling him they wouldn’t be on it. She hoped that would become obvious shortly. Of course, it was possible they would be able to make it, but hardly likely. “Follow me.”

Gerard did, bewildered but obedient as usual. It had been his way since he’d started working with her, since she had burnt Mary Keay out of the Book of the Unnamed Dead and given him its remains. He never argued, never questioned, never refused an order. He trusted her implicitly in the field; while he might offer suggestions occasionally—not often—he never balked when she issued an order. If she had told him he was fine and that they should move on to Pittsburgh immediately, he would have trusted her without a moment’s thought, just as Michael Shelley once would have. Tim was more likely to push for what he felt was a better solution, but in the end, if she insisted, he would bow to her wishes without another murmur.

If she was being honest with herself, the irritation she felt at the thought was there to serve as a very powerful insulation against the well-deserved sense of guilt.

There was a line of taxis outside, valiantly fighting a battle against the encroaching rideshare start-ups offering nominally cheaper alternatives. Gertrude went to the third one in the queue and tapped on the window. “Are you engaged?”

“No, ma’am,” the driver said hopefully. He had a thick accent she couldn’t quite identify, except that it thankfully wasn’t Russian.

The Ceaseless Watcher pushed through the knowledge that the man was from a small village in India and was saving money to bring over his wife and four children, the youngest of whom had a genetic condition that would eventually prove fatal if not treated. Gertrude ruthlessly forced it back into isolation where she kept it.

“You are now.” Gertrude opened the back door and assisted Gerard into the seat, then slid in as well and shut the door. “The nearest hospital. Quickly.”

The area of Chicago known as the Illinois Medical District was less than two miles from Union Station, and the driver, whose name proved to be Prashant, came around to help get Gerard into the emergency room. He tried to refuse the fare, but Gertrude pressed a hundred dollar bill into his hand, despite his protestations.

“For your family,” she told him. He didn’t argue after that. Only later would she realize she had spoken to him in Maithili.

The nurse behind the desk was polite but obviously harried. The waiting room was occupied but not overfull, so Gertrude estimated their wait would be no longer than an hour, a time frame corroborated as the forms were handed over and to which both she and Gerard acquiesced without complaint. She gave the forms to Gerard to fill out and sat next to him, ready to assist as necessary but hoping she wouldn’t be needed.

She used the opportunity to look around, feeling around with senses born of long years of practice and immersion in the Fourteen for any hints of the Fears on their fellow occupants. She ignored the sparse staff for the moment; even knowing how few, relatively speaking, genuine encounters there actually were, she knew medical staff were among the most likely to have encountered them. Survivors, after all, often needed treatment. Her interest was more in the patients, who would have more recent encounters—more direct ones—and therefore would be more likely to be dangerous, or perhaps to sustain her. She didn’t enjoy compelling live statements out of people, but she was beginning to grow tired and needed a bit of a lift. In absence of the statements she was expecting from Pu Songling, someone in America she would never meet again would do.

There wasn’t much, though, which didn’t surprise her. An old man with a crying child on his lap, his expression worried and tender as he pressed an ice pack to the girl’s eye, bore traces of the Slaughter, but the hat boldly proclaiming his status as a veteran of a war that had ended forty years previously gave an explanation for that and also suggested it wasn’t recent enough to attract her. The Dark lay heavily on the shoulders of a patient clutching his stomach and rocking slightly, but he appeared to be about ten years old and the woman sitting next to him, whom Gertrude took to be his mother, did not seem the type to allow him to speak to unknown adults. The most promising source was the woman sitting in the corner amidst a swirl of the Lonely, but before Gertrude could even think about standing, a nurse came out and called for a Latasha Brown, and the woman got up and drifted quietly through the back.

Beside her, Gerard rubbed his face with his free hand, blinking hard. Gertrude normally wouldn’t have bothered to say anything—he could ask if he wanted her help—but since she was apparently being honest with herself today, she knew he wouldn’t. “Do you need assistance, Gerard?”

“Please. I’m seeing triple.” Gerard slid the clipboard and pen towards her.

He had filled out his true name and date of birth, something she would ordinarily chastise him for. Indeed, she had started to before it occurred to her that, with the cost and state of health care in the United States, he would need to give his actual information in order to not have to sell everything he owned to afford whatever was coming. She swallowed the protest and began filling out the remainder of the paperwork.

Address, employment, insurance information, emergency contact…Gertrude hesitated over that one. The obvious name to put was her own, especially since she was here. She could claim to be his mother, perhaps—say she had kept her maiden name—or perhaps an aunt; some kind of relative, at any rate. And medical privacy laws meant that she certainly wouldn’t get any information out of the doctors or nurses if she wasn’t his emergency contact.

On the other hand, she had the ability to convince people to tell her anything she wanted. Gerard would be more likely to forgive her using the Eye than an outright lie, especially given his…complicated relationship with his mother.

She printed Tim’s name and mobile phone number in the blanks. In the space reading Relationship to Patient, she hesitated for no more than a split second before writing Domestic Partner.

The second page dealt more with the medical information—allergies, family history, and reason for visit. She glanced sideways at Gerard. “Do you want me to ask you about these, or just fill it out?”

“Ask. Please. I’ve got enough of a headache as it is.”

Gertrude ticked the box labeled Headache, then went back to the top of the page. Gerard gave soft, monotone answers to her questions, and she marked and scribbled as quickly and neatly as she could. Some things she didn’t need to ask about, but she methodically went over everything else. At last, she handed the stack back. “You have to sign, I’m afraid.”

Gerard barely opened his eyes enough to see the page, so Gertrude placed her finger at the start of the lines. He scrawled his signature, which ended in a complex sigil that warded against it being used to harm him in any way, then sat back in the chair and leaned his head gingerly against the wall. She checked to make sure he was breathing, then went up to the desk to turn in the clipboard. The nurse accepted it without really looking.

“Have a seat, and we’ll be with you as soon as we can,” she said, in a voice that was more than half mechanical.

Gertrude glanced at the clock behind her desk and noted that they likely had another forty-five minutes, at minimum, before it would be their turn, and that only if someone more critical didn’t come in ahead of them. She returned to her seat beside Gerard, folded her arms over her chest, and settled in to wait.

Her eyes drifted to the television mounted in the corner, tuned to a news program, the volume muted and the closed captioning about thirty seconds behind the audio, if the reporters’ lips were to be believed. The camera switched from the studio to a sporting event of some kind, roughly a dozen young women in shorts and sleeveless jerseys running around some sort of indoor court—she wasn’t a sports aficionado and couldn’t have named the game precisely. The play all seemed to be focused around one particular player, a young and frail-looking girl barely out of her childhood with a hopeful smile and a look in her eye Gertrude knew far too well—the one her mother had called in sight of the silent lands. According to the captions scrolling across the screen, this was meant to be an inspiring, feel-good story.

Gertrude felt nothing but a niggling, incredibly irritating sense of dread.

The door opened, and another nurse appeared and called for Jordan Westburg; the boy with the stomachache stood alongside his mother and limped, whimpering with every step, towards the exam rooms. Gertrude watched him go impassively, but Gerard made a small noise of sympathy. “Hope it’s not his appendix. That’s no fun.”

“Likely his hasn’t progressed as far as yours had.” Mary had rarely bothered with her son’s physical health until it became an inconvenient crisis, a fact that would possibly have spurred Gertrude to seek assistance for Gerard sooner had she known about it.

No more than a minute passed before the door opened again. “Gerard Keay?” the nurse called, emphasizing the second syllable of his first name in the American fashion and turning his surname into a two-syllable name.

“That was fast.” Gerard pushed himself to his feet and staggered; Gertrude caught his arm and assisted him towards the waiting nurse.

“Excuse me!” A man in a tailored suit with an elaborate comb-over made a show of looking at his flashy, expensive watch before glaring up at the nurse. “I have been waiting for two hours—”

“Congratulations!” the nurse interrupted without missing a beat, not even looking in the direction of the man, who blinked at the unexpected comment. “That means you’re not dying today!”

Gertrude assisted Gerard in walking a little faster.

It was the mention of seizures that had moved him up the list, a fact Gertrude learned from the questions the doctor—after Gerard’s mumbled assent to her remaining in the room while the examination took place—asked of him. After a cursory examination, another nurse came in with a wheelchair and Gertrude was left in a hallway to wait while Gerard was taken to be prepared for an MRI.

She sat silently for a while, listening to the sounds around her—the occasional page over the intercom, the squeak of gurney wheels, the low murmur of voices as nurses and orderlies conversed, and the incessant tick…tick…tick of the clock opposite her—as she tried to get her thoughts in order. Gerard was ill. That much was clear. The MRI would find…something. With a bit of effort, she could Know what was wrong, but that would be a violation of his privacy for no real purpose, so she would leave it for if the doctors failed to diagnose it, and then…what? Force them to treat the situation, even though they found no evidence of it? She supposed that would have to be her next course of action. Since she found the very idea distasteful, she sincerely hoped the doctors would be able to find the truth.

It occurred to her, very suddenly, that she had no ties to Gerard. She hadn’t listed herself as his emergency contact, and even though she had brought him in, privacy laws meant that the doctors likely wouldn’t tell her what was wrong with him. They may not even let her in to visit him. She was fairly certain it wouldn’t come to that, and she could deal with it if it did, but…

There were no signs forbidding cell phone usage in this part of the hospital, likely because it was a waiting area. Gertrude fished out her phone, calculated the time, and pressed one of the preset buttons.

A moment later, Tim’s voice came on the line, clear and alert despite the relatively late hour in London. “What do you need, boss?”

It was a question that could have come across as rude, depending on the tone, but Gertrude appreciated the economy of words. No greetings, no pleasantries, no small talk; just get down to business and handle the situation. He knew she wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important, and that it was likely something time sensitive.

She, too, wasted neither time nor words. “You. Get the next flight out of London arriving in Chicago. Send me a text when you land and I’ll let you know where we are.”

“Got it. Need me to bring anything?”

“Just yourself. And that folio I gave you before we left London.” Gertrude hesitated, then chose to be honest. “It’s Gerard. He’s ill.”

Tim gave a hissing little intake of breath. “How bad?”

“Severe headaches, and he’s had at least two seizures. He’s in for an MRI now. I put you down as his emergency contact on the paperwork, so I need you here to assist if need be.”

“I’m on my way.” Rustling sounds and footsteps did in fact seem to imply that Tim was grabbing a bag and running out the door. “I’ll text you the flight details. Tell him I’m coming, okay?”

“I will,” Gertrude said, although it was a promise she wasn’t sure she would be able to keep. “I’ll be looking out for your text.”

The line went dead without further ado.

Gertrude sighed and sat back. She could hardly leave the hospital until Tim arrived, and she would certainly not be so unkind as to leave Gerard alone in a foreign land with a medical condition, but she did rather chafe at the timing. Still, it could have been worse. They could have arrived too late.

They still might have, but at least this way she would know she had done all she could.

Her phone buzzed, startling her, with the information for Tim’s flight. Evidently he had purchased his tickets on the way to the airport. She nodded, committing the time to memory, then sent him a text in reply: [Remember to keep your receipts for any purchases you make on Institute business so they can be reimbursed later.]

[Don’t think Elias is going to pay me back for this.]

[He will.] Gertrude didn’t elaborate. She only settled back and sighed, pocketing her phone once more.

It would be seventeen hours before Tim arrived. Hopefully he would be in time. She wouldn’t want to get Gerard’s hopes up only to have them dashed, or to leave him stressed and worried before whatever was about to happen. He would need all his strength to concentrate on himself.

She prayed it would be enough.

[queeniecook]

January 21

Rashidah has a day to herself for the first time in weeks. Her brother and sister are in school. Her Mom is in Sulani and the farm chores are done. She decides to go for a drive and ends up at a spot she used to hang out in high school - the mini mall in Newcrest. She sees Rahul the moment she walks in. She honestly isn't surprised to see him there, it is his favorite pizza place after all.

"Hey." He says quietly, making eye contact for a brief moment before looking off to the side. It's weird seeing her. They used to see each other almost everyday and then his Aunt had an affair with her Dad and it just went downhill after that.

Before Rashidah can even reply, Andrew is speaking "Dude, you gonna share that or just hold it forever?" He asks, referring to the twinkie his friend holds in his hand. They had ordered a pizza fifteen minutes ago but the lady who was supposed to be cooking it had sat down beside them and decided to talk to another customer. Good thing they hadn't paid yet. 

Rahul snaps out of his emotions and makes eye contact with Andrew before shoving the entire twinkie in his mouth.

"Jerk." Andrew comments before looking at Rashidah. "Please ignore this ape's manners. Hi, I'm Andrew Ambrose."

Rashidah offers the man a brief smile. Ambrose, she wonders if he's related to Jillian Ambrose. "Hello. I'm Rashidah Watson." She greets him before looking back at her ex-boyfriend who is trying to chew the twinkie in his mouth without making a giant mess. "I need to talk to you actually...you know, when you're done with your quest to conquer twinkies." 

Two minutes later...

"What's up?" Rahul asks, he decides to actually maintain eye contact this time. It would be rude to look at her stocking hat or the snow outside while he's talking to her. It's hard though, he used to love her face now it brings an ache to his heart.

"One of our chicken coops at the farm needs some repair and...well my Mom is out of town and I'm not handy at all..." She pauses, releasing a breath. Her Dad used to do all these things. Her Dad. The man who had an affair with Rahul's Aunt. That situation led to young couple breaking up. Once the news came out of the affair, all the couple did was fight. "Would you be able to look at it? We'd pay you." 

"I'll do it but you don't have to pay me." Rahul tells her. Truth be told, he has regret when it comes to how things ended with the girl in front of him. He shouldn't have supported his Aunt but he felt he had to, since she took over raising him after his Mom passed away. If he can help her and her family out someway, he's happy to do it. 

"Rahul..." Rashidah starts, shaking her head. 

"It's cool, I'm happy to help. Really." He tells her with a small smile. To his relief, Rashiah finally relents and nods her head in acceptance. 

"Wanna join us, Rashidah?" a voice calls out to them both. The duo had forgotten Andrew was even there. 

The cook had finally went back to make their pizza. Normally Rashidah would just leave but she has to admit, it's kind of nice to be around people her own age again. Andrew is happy she's joined them as well, he thinks she's pretty and funny. It's been a rough few days. He hates that he was out of town when his sister gave birth to his nephew and that they almost lost them both from what his Dad said. He's tried to make up for his absence by going to see Jillian and Slade in the hospital everyday.

"Anchovies on pizza are nasty." Rashidah comments after Andrew asks her what topping she thinks should not go on pizza. He nods his head in agreement, while Rahul pulls up a chair to their table. 

"Pineapple too." Rahul says, hiding a smirk. 

"You leave my pineapple alone!" Rashidah says, fake glaring at him. 

Most people would piece it together that maybe there was more to Rahul and Rashidah then friendship but Andrew doesn't see the signs.

"I like pineapple." Andrew says, granted he prefers it in a fruit bowl but he leaves it at that. Instead he clears his throat softly and takes his shot. "I know we just met but...Rashidah, would you like to do go out sometime?"

The silence descended until the cook slammed the oven door shut in the back of the kitchen.

"That's really sweet of you, Andrew." Rashidah starts. She feels bad she's about to turn him down. He seems like a cool guy. "I don't date. I have a lot going on with my family's farm and...I just don't have the time."

Both she and Andrew miss Rahul's shoulders sagging in relief beside them.

[dindjarinandlysakane]

The Sweetest Taste | Chapter 6 - Bruises

Din Djarin is happy on Nevarro. He has a home, a family, what more could he want? But when a woman turns up selling bread and cakes at his doorstep, how can he not fall in love? And how can he also stop her from getting hurt at the hands of her partner behind closed doors? Will the hero save the girl and get the girl? Warm and sweet fluff/romance/hurt/comfort fic.

Masterlist

Chapter 6

----

Din watched as Lysa weaved easily between the stalls, buying ingredients here and there. Even bartering lightheartedly with the vendors.

At points she would turn to Din, who was lingering near to her, talking him through some of the rarer items being sold.

“Has Grogu tried these purple pears?” she said now, gracing him with a kind smile and holding out a curved purple fruit.

At her words, the Mandalorian gave a shake of his head. “I’m not sure,” he murmured.

Din knew that his son had lived for fifty years before meeting him. He was certain there were a lot of things he had or hadn’t done in that time, but none of that Din particularly wanted to dwell on.

Perhaps sensing his unease with the question, Lysa offered him a lingering look before turning back to the Snivvian stall holder.

“I’ll take eight of those,” she said gently, her eyes scanning over the fruit before her, pointing her finger at each item in turn. “And I’ll take…..six of the Giva and three punnets of the tufted mushberries.”

Item by item, the stall holder handed over the fruit which Lysa carefully placed into her basket. Before she extracted a handful of credits and held them out for the Snivvian.

But as she did so, the sleeve of her tunic slipped a little, revealing a large and nasty looking bright purple bruise on her forearm. It was blotchy and looked stark against her smooth skin.

Din instantly frowned.

He watched as Lysa thanked the stall holder before turning back to the Mandalorian, but her smile faltered as she saw him looking directly at her.

“What?” she asked curiously, her eyes roving across his beskar helmet.

Din allowed her to reach him before he turned, walking away with her at his side once again.

“Where’d you get a bruise like that?” he said before he could stop himself, pointing his gloved hand towards her now-covered forearm.

Din had been injured more times than he could count and knew what it was like to wake up with mark like that across his bruised limbs. Something that looked as bad as that did, you didn’t just get from bumping it on a counter.

But beside him he felt Lysa visibly stop in her tracks. Din turned to her just in time to see her eyes widen and her cheeks turn white.

But he was lucky to have caught it, for within less than a second Lysa had righted herself. As though a veil had fallen down over her features, shielding her visible emotions to the world- similar to what Din’s helmet did for him.

“Oh this thing?,” she said brightly, tapping her finger over her sleeve, but she made no move to uncover the bruise again. “Oh it’s nothing. I just knocked it getting out of the speeder yesterday.”

Din frowned, narrowing his eyes in her direction.

The Mandalorian had interrogated many people during his lifetime. He knew when someone was lying.

But was it his place to argue with her?

Din knew that at this stage he valued his friendship with her too much to question her.

That was what this was, wasn’t it? A friendship?

And so Din remained silent. Not saying another word on the subject.

For a moment he felt Lysa glance towards him as they walked away from the hustle and bustle of the busy Bazaar.

“Din, I-“

But before Lysa could say another word, she was roughly shoved aside by a man running past, arms laden full of trinkets from a nearby stall.

“HEY, COME BACK HERE!” came the gruff voice of the Weequay market vendor, pointing at the man. “THIEF!”

The short, red-haired thief was indeed quick. Despite being loaded with stolen goods he was at the corner of the street in a matter of seconds.

But unfortunately for him, Din was quicker. And in an instant, the Mandalorian had thrown out his fibercord whip and hooked the human thief around the ankles.

The man immediately toppled to the ground, spilling the items of precious metal in his arms, all over the ground.

Giving a grunt, Din strolled over to the man, who was face down on the ground, spluttering in the dusty dirt, and placed his boot flat to his back, pinning him down.

But Din didn’t even have to do anything more, for he turned his head to hear a screeching siren and a shiny landspeeder gliding it’s way into the marketplace, parting the crowd as it went.

It came to a halt just a couple of feet away from him, with the new Marshal and two of the city’s peacekeepers, clutching guns, quickly exiting the ship and surrounding them.

“We can take it from here,” came the robotic, yet familiar voice, of IG-11, as Din backed away, retracting his whip as the men grabbed the thief, hauling him to his feet and cuffing him.

He watched as the Marshal went over to speak to the market vendor, just as Lysa appeared at Din’s side, leaning in close.

“Actually maybe I will need that chaperone after all,” she said in a carrying whisper, her teasing eyes meeting with his, behind his beskar helmet.

Din’s lips twitched up into a grin.

Ten minutes later and the pair were strolling together through the North of the city, heading towards Lysa’s home. The sun was already way down below the horizon line, the streets awash in a golden shadowy glow.

Din knew that Nevarro was a bright and upcoming place to live, now becoming somewhat of a hub for travellers and settlers alike. But it was things like what had happened back at the marketplace, that reminded him that things had not changed that much.

Neighbourhoods like this still were privy to great poverty. And sinister goings on we’re still happening on these street corners and behind these rusted closed doors.

But despite living here, amongst all that, Lysa seemed to him, a light within all that darkness.

She was kind, smart, and brightened every space she seemed to be present in. Well, to Din at least.

He still hadn't forgotten their conversation just before the thief had disturbed them. But maybe he had been wrong. Maybe the mark on Lysa’s forearm had been caused by getting out of her speeder.

He knew that he needed to trust her. She certainly trusted him.

It was obvious from the looks Din had been getting in this part of town, that Mandalorians were NOT popular around here. Din being no exception.

But Lysa didn’t seem to care.

In fact she was more than happy to talk to Din, ignoring the looks they were getting from passers by.

“And so that’s how I left Coruscant,” she said smiling up at Din, swinging her basket easily from her hand as she walked. “And I was certainly poorer than when I arrived there, that was for sure!”

Din gave an easy chuckle.

Right now he felt more at peace than he had in a long time. Why did it feel so easy? Talking to Lysa like this? Just walking with her, at her side. Listening to her self-deprecating stories.

She sighed sweetly, staring ahead once more.

“Sorry…I talk a lot when I’m nervous,” she said in a kindly voice.

A frown line twitched it’s way between Din’s brows.

But as though catching his concealed expression, Lysa gave a small laugh, shaking her head.

“I don’t mean-“ she began. “I’m not nervous around you, I just-“

Din caught her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink.

She turned away smiling.

But Din’s eyes lingered on her face just that little bit longer.

Was he crazy to want this to go on forever? Just the two of them, talking this way?

But before they could carry on, Lysa came to a stop,  turning to him.

“Well here’s my place,” she said gently, her face painted with a graceful smile. “Thank you for walking with me. It was good to have some company for once.”

They stood on her dingy little street, having come upon her front door quicker than Din would have liked.

His heart thrummed a beat.

He wanted to tell her that he would be happy to walk with her anywhere, anytime. But he was not the kind of man to say something like that. Let alone to someone he barely knew, like Lysa.

He kicked himself for his internal anguish when it came to revealing his true feelings to someone. Too much time being raised amongst Mandalorians who never showed their faces, or their emotions either.

“No problem,” he said curtly.

Lysa stared at him for a long moment, that smile still lighting her entire face. And for a second it looked as though she was going to say something else. 

But before she could do so, the door to her right slid open…

…only reveal Crix Val’shif stood on the other side.

He was wearing a black tunic, his salt and pepper hair slicked back to match, with a dark scowl plastered across his narrow features.

Almost instantly Lysa’s smile vanished.

“Crix-“ she said quickly, as the man’s eyes flickered between her and Din, and back again. 

But not even acknowledging Din, Crix stepped out onto the porch, turning his back to the Mandalorian and stepping in front of Lysa.

Din bristled, clenching his jaw hard.

“An’ where have you been?” Crix spat, his nostrils flaring. “You said you’d have dinner on the table by sundown. I was supposed be at the Cantina already. And now because of you, I’m gonna be late.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise the time-“ Lysa replied in a hushed voice. Din could barely see her face over Crix’s shoulder, but could hear that she sounded full of worry. A lifetime away from the happy tone she had had not five minutes before.

Was it wrong for Din to hate this man? Crix? For he could tell instantly that he was trouble.

But obviously not appreciating Lysa’s reply, as quick as a flash, Crix grabbed her forearm hard, tugging her towards him roughly. The forearm which was already painted with a blue and purple mark.

At seeing this, the Mandalorian gave an instant growl beneath his breath.

But not paying any attention to Din, Crix jabbed a finger from his free hand skyward.

“You didn’t realise the time, huh? How about you look up at the damn sun next time,” Crix hissed into Lysa’s face. “Inside.”

And with that, he gave the blonde woman a hard tug, dragging her in through the doorway roughly.

Too roughly.

In an instant Din saw red.

He grabbed Crix by his upper arm, hauling him around to face him.

Din didn’t draw his weapon, and yet he was so angered by the way Crix had spoken and touched Lysa, he wanted to tear him apart with only his gloved hands.

But the thug’s face was immediately a picture of fury.

“Did you just lay your hands on me, Mandalorian?”

From behind Crix, Din noticed Lysa staring between the two men, looking horrified.

“Din, it’s ok, really it’s fine,” she said, her marsh-coloured eyes pleading with him.

She was breathing hard, her entire face white as a sheet.

For a moment, Din relinquished his grip on Crix’ shoulder, and the shorter man took his opportunity, tugging his arm from the Mandalorian’s grasp.

He turned to Lysa.

“I told you….inside,” he spat, pointing at her, as Lysa disappeared inside the house.

Din had dealt with situations like this many times over. With many people worse than Crix over the years.

And yet something about this situation had thrown him.

Perhaps it was knowing that Lysa was right there through the door, having asked, no pleaded, with him not to hurt her partner.

Crix suddenly turned back to Din, rounding on him.

He was an inch shorter than Din and yet stood nose to nose with him now, baring his uneven teeth.

“You ever touch me again, then me and my friends are gonna have to pay you a little visit,” he hissed in a threatening tone. “Don’t think I don’t know where you and your kid live.”

And with that, Crix Val’shif stepped back and hit the buzzer, causing the door to slide shut in Din’s beskar-covered face.

----

Please let me know if you like it! What do you think so far?

[icansoiwill]

Heart Of Stone Chapter one: Meeting

~Summary: When you met Joel for the first time you didn’t ever think it would become the journey it has. He’s changed you and you have changed him. Was it for the better? Maybe. Was he hinging something from you? Possible. But through all of this you know that you were meant to know him.

~Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

~Words: 1.1k

~Warnings: I can’t think of any...

~Summary: When you met Joel for the first time you didn’t ever think it would become the journey it has. He’s changed you and you have changed him. Was it for the better? Maybe. Was he hinging something from you? Possible. But through all of this you know that you were meant to know him.

~A/N: I don’t know how updated this series will be or how long it will be but, I’m already working on the second chapter!

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The Boston QZ was the kind of place that made almost anyone feel the human misery of a run down squalor in the post outbreak world. It was a place to sleep, shower, and maybe have a bite or two. Those necessities were about it. I hadn’t been here for long, maybe 2 months. I already met a few decent people, but no one to stick close to or trust. Being here was something that wasn’t ever going to be a permanent situation. I just needed a bed to sleep on and enough food to feel like me again before moving onto the next. The showers were probably the most amazing part of the QZ. With showers being far and few between on the outside, one could muster up a real nasty body oder.

Residing in the QZ meant beginning each day “contributing to society”, or what was left of it. I began to get into a routine, which I had yet to determine if it was good or bad. Each day started with a quick stop at the food pantry to get a slice of bread and  maybe a small bowl of cardboard flavored oats, then the rest of the day was used to burn the dead and infected or clean up the new streets that they were expanding into the QZ. Cleaning the streets is where I met Tess.

On my first day getting the assignment, Tess showed me what to do. Scrape up any of the ridiculously overgrown weeds, pick up weapons or broken glass, and grab any infected that were killed by a FEDRA officer to put into the back of truck. Me and Tess always made small talk, which kind of only consisted of her asking me random questions and talking about her “guy”  This “guy” sounded dreadful to me honestly. Brooding and unemotional was all I heard from the way she described him.

“You should come meet him in person.” She offered.

“I wish I could, tonight I am gonna get settled in the apartment they gave me. But maybe some other time.” I replied lying though my teeth. With that Tess stopped talking about him and began asking more about me again. Where are you from? How were you able to survive on your own? Were you born after the outbreak? I tried to keep my answers short, at the time I wasn’t looking to make any friends.

“I was born a few years before the out break in Texas. But of course, once the outbreak began my family didn’t stay there long.”

“Well, if you had a family where are they?” Tess questioned. I wished she didn’t push that much. “Sorry, I know I’m asking you a lot of personal stuff right now. Just trying to make some conversation with the new girl.” I sighed quietly with a slight relief. Hopefully quite enough that she did notice.

“Yeah, I just don’t talk about it a lot. I’d rather keep it that way.” I told her. Much didn’t happen the rest of that first shift.

Over the past two months here, me and Tess became what one could call friends. Maybe more acquaintances. However, we had each others back which was something I admired about her. I still hadn’t met the guy she talked about, which I found quite weird. One would think that by now I could’ve at least put a face to the name. Joel. Joel sounded like it had a lot more charisma to it than what I would’ve thought for someone who sounded so gloomy.

“Alright everybody, We’re done for the day.” A man said through the FEDRA speaker from the other end of the street. The group began to gather their tools together and make way to the ration station that was set up by the end of the street. Tess had her stuff together and went ahead of me. I struggled to grab my gloves and face mask that fell on the ground. I eventually got myself together enough to try and catch up to make my way to the ration station as well.  I began to look down to make sure I did in fact grab everything when I ran into a chest. Everything, once again fell to the ground in a loud thud.

“ugh” the man groaned.

“I should’ve been paying attention, sorry about that” I said to him not looking up. Instead, I look down at our feet and see all of my things spread out on the ground. I bend down to start picking things up. The man just stayed quiet and began to help pick up my things. I went to look for my mask when I saw his hand holding it in front of my eyes. That is when look up and met his eyes.

They’re brown.

His eyes were the first thing I noticed. Something in his eyes seemed so familiar.

“Thank you” I told him as I grabbed the handkerchief mask from his hand.

“No problem, Ma’am” he said with a slight southern accent. He began to turn away. I could stop myself from asking…

“Do I know you from somewhere?” I blurted to his back. He turn around to face me. “Sorry, I just… I don’t know there just something familiar about you.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met” he stated.

“Oh okay, yeah.” I replied flustered and confused. Closing my eyes to shield myself from any possible embarrassment.

“But” I heard him say with a soft tone, “I was thinking the same about you.” I knew it…

The man looked at me like he knew he had to of seen me before. His face didn’t reveal much. He stared at me longer than i was expecting. His eyes seemed to move around my head studying my features. He face gave away the idea that maybe he wasn’t going to be forgetting me again.

“Hey! You two finally meet.” Tess said from behind the man. “Joel this is (y/n), (y/n) this is Joel”

“Oh so this is (y/n)” Joel flatly says to Tess. The tone he just gave was very different from the one that had come out of his mouth less than a minute ago.

“Oh and you must be Joel the broody guy that Tess has told me about” I stated back to Joel.

“They’re about to close up, You better go get your rations” Tess says to me.

“You told her that I’m broody?” Joel question Tess.

“I mean I didn’t say that in so many words, but maybe it came off that way” Tess tell him, “plus, be nice. I think she could be good for helping us on runs.” Tess smacks his chest as they watched me grab my rations.

[nikolai-alexi]

Fifty Kilos of Glitter and a Way Out

This is a mini fic for the lovely @swag696942069 who came up with the concept of Tillie Finnegan, Seamus Finnegan’s mam, and I fell head over heels in love with the idea of her, so I wrote a lil fic for her. Swag, I hope I did Tillie some kind of justice, I love this little menace to society and I really want to play with her character more in the future

CWs: I actually don’t think there’s any?? (Wow yes I know shocker I never managed to write things without heavy CWs so this is a first). There’s mention of magical surrogacy. There’s an overview of the War, but no graphic details of anything. Lots of mentions of bombs/bomb materials. Oh shit wait, glancing description of arson and murder, too, but not with a bomb.

I absolutely did not proof read this, it’s 0100 and I have to be up for work in 3 hours so forgive me for any mistakes. And the line breaks wouldn’t format right on mobile so I gave up. Also, I know “dwt” is a Welsh word, but I couldn’t find an Irish equivalent, so I said fuck it.

Dwt - of a person, someone small or dinky

WC: 4600 words, average read time 35 minutes

Regulus Black is not someone people accidentally bump into, or stumble into, or any other manner of unintentional irritation. He knows this, because he’s hexed people for far less than an unintentional bump in the corridor. People stay far away from him, unless you were Evan, Pandora, Barty, or Dorcas, you made sure you gave him a wide berth. His lack of patience and temper with others has only gotten worse since the summer hols.

Which is why, he thinks, it’s so surprising when someone, who is definitely not any of the aforementioned people, slumps down at his table in the library unceremoniously, and tosses her feet onto the chair beside her. He raises his head from his textbooks and parchments slowly, and blinks owlishly at her. He can’t hide his surprise at the sheer amount of audacity she has. He’s seen her around, knows she’s a Hufflepuff in his year, but she’s not a Prefect so he has no idea what her name is.

“Can I help you?” He sneers. She doesn’t even blink from the venom in his voice. Her head is tilted just a bit to the side and her blue eyes look massive from behind her specs, he can see the thickness of the lens protruding from the wire frames, and, if he’s being honest, it kind of unnerves him.

It’s like she seems to sense that he feels very off-kilter from her sudden appearance and lack of response, and nods strongly once, “Tillie Finnegan, pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Regulus Black. I need your help.” Her words are formal, but her thick, Donegal accent, made the words sound anything but.

Regulus snorts and turns back to his textbooks with a nasty grin, “Bugger off then, you won’t find it here,”

Finnegan laughs, and it sounds like a strange mixture of gulls and bells, “Aye, mightn’t be so hasty when I tell you what I’ve got to offer you,”

He snaps his gaze to her, all but snarling, but stops short when he sees her twirling a very familiar gold chain around her fingers. She smirks as the colour leaves his face entirely.

“Where did you get that,” he tries keeping his voice neutral, but he knows his body language is tense, ready to swipe the necklace out of her hands at the first given opportunity. It betrays him.

She tsks softly, “Not so fast, Baby Black,” she snatches the gold chain out of the air just before he’s able to close his fingers around it. It disappears from her hands not a second later.

Regulus sits stiffly straight in his chair and folds his hands in front of him, “Fine then,” he says, trying to curb the snarl on his face, “Let’s talk,”

Her stoic expression melts away to a sunny exclamation immediately, “Oh wonderful! I’d thought that’d take much longer!” Her mood swings reminded him of Bella, in a way, and a shiver rolls down his spine.

She rights herself in her chair, “Right then, to business, shall we? I need material ordered, but I can’t order it meself or it’ll get reported. Bloody knob has me owls monitored again, as if he could catch me that way,” she snorts wryly as if she’s made a joke he should know, “I’m good for the galleons, don’t worry, I just need someone scary enough or with a big enough name that no one will peep up and question it. Barty said you’d be good for it, if I had the right incentive,”

Regulus is…baffled, to be quite frank, he has no idea what to do with this person in front of him. Her accent makes her words seem like they’re bouncing around his head before they make sense, but they don’t make any sense at all to him.

“Are…” he trails off for just a moment, “Are you trying to blackmail me?”

She looks at him with wide eyes, or at least wider eyes, “What? No! Merlin’s left tit, Black, do you think I’m suicidal? Fuck no, I’m not trying to blackmail you,”

Regulus is struck with the urge to laugh, but bites his tongue, “I suppose that’s good then, you weren’t exactly doing a good job of it,”

Finnegan snorts and slides the necklace across the table, he’d never seen it reappear until now. He’s not sure if she’s terrifyingly good at wandless magic or if it’s slight of hand, but he doesn’t care as he scoops the gold chain with the pendant, a single letter J, and shoves it into his robe pocket.

“I was gonna give that back regardless, I was just hoping it might help get you to listen to me,” she says, “It nearly slipped down the drain in the Prefect’s bath,”

A dark blush rises to his cheeks and she grins lecherously at him, “You two really ought to keep better track of your things,”

Regulus schools his features and tries to will away his blush, “Back to the point, Finnegan, or I shall simply walk away. You’ve given up your bargaining chip,”

She laughs again and tuts, “No, I’ve only lost one bargaining chip. So I’d suggest you remain sitting, dwt,”

He decidedly does not want to know what that means.

He doesn’t get a moment to think before she’s talking again, “You and yours are in a bit of a prank war with the Marauders, aren’t ye?”

He snorts again, as if he’d actually be involved in Evan and Barty’s schemes. He just keeps them, mostly, out of trouble. And maybe he occasionally suggests some ideas. But only occasionally. He wouldn’t lower himself to his brother’s antics.

“Evan and Barty are, yes,”

Finnegan rolls her eyes, “Please, Black, anyone with eyes that can see past their nose can see you all over their pranks. Evan and Barty are two of the dumbest fuckers I’ve ever met. Smart as a whip when it comes to a book, they are, but both of ‘em would be lost without you, so don’t even try that selkie-shite with me,”

He cocks his head curiously at her, “Rather observant,” he murmurs, “for a Hufflepuff,”

She quirks a sarcastic brow, “Rather smart,” she drawls, “for a Slytherin,”

He can’t help but chuckle at that, “Touché,”

She waves her hands and rolls her eyes, “Merlin and all the saints, can’t believe people can be multifaceted outside of their house traits they get sorted into at age eleven. The news will rock the Wizarding World at its core,”

Finnegan reminds him of a very strange combination of Barty and Dorcas. He has to admit, he kind of likes her. She’s absolutely a bag of cats, he can bear smell the crazy coming off her, but Barty was also bat-shite crazy and Dorcas was not far behind him in that regard, so maybe he just attracted crazy in his life. Perhaps the Black Family Madness was just a by-product of accumulating an assortment of completely mental people.

“Can we get back to the point, Finnegan? I’ve Arithmency homework to finish,” he asks.

“Bollocks,” she swears, “Sorry, I really didn’t mean to take up so much of your time. If you order the materials I need, I can get you intel on your brother and his friends’ pranks. And help your lot prank them.”

He weighed his options. It’s not like she was asking a monumental favour. He could indulge her.

“What materials do you need that you can’t order yourself?” He certainly didn’t need to be getting caught with anything illegal. He had enough on his plate without dealing with any of that nonsense.

“I need fifty kilos of ultra-fine glitter, antimony trisulfide, dextrin, strontium, copper, barium, and sodium chloride, sulphur powder, charcoal, and potassium nitrate,”

Regulus blinks.

He blinks again.

And again.

“I’m sorry,” he says, completely bewildered, “you’re building a bomb?!”

She immediately shushes him, looking around to make sure no one heard him, “Keep your bloody voice down, Black!”

She looks at him with an irritated glare, “Merlin’s tits, yes, of course, I’m building a bloody bomb! Are you new here? That’s kind of my thing. And it’s a glitter bomb, you knob. Completely harmless, just very inconvenient and a highly effective form of retribution,” she grinned manically, “Nothing like trying to get glitter out of your knickers to make you think twice about being a proper gobshite, aye?”

This is officially the strangest situation he’s ever found himself in, which is saying something seeing as he’s lived with Barty for six years, and he can’t help but laugh. He supposes digging ultra-fine glitter out of every body crevice and article of clothing one is in possession of is plenty of motivation to not be an arse.

“Okay,” he chuckles, “Sure, I’ll get your materials. Give me everything you have on my brother and his miserable group of miscreants,”

Finnegan waggles her eyebrows with an almost comical leer, “I know for a fact you don’t think one of those “miserable miscreants” is really all that bad,”

Regulus rolls his eyes, knowing there’s no way he can talk his way out of this, not with Finnegan knowing about the necklace and apparently one of their late night dalliances in the Prefect’s bath.

“Actually,” Regulus says, rather primly, “I quite think he’s the worst of them all,”

Finnegan coughs out a laugh, “You would, wouldn’t you?”

Regulus balks at that, “What does that mean?”

Finnegan grins and shrugs, “Don’t worry your pretty little head over it, Black,”

He tries to needle her into explaining, but she stays infuriatingly tight-lipped about it. He curses the fool who ever said Hufflepuffs didn’t have three braincells to rub together. This particular one is maddeningly astute. He wants to hex her.

Tillie lets him try and pry an explanation out of her, but simply regales him with half answers and nonsensical tripe. She’s got to give it to him, he puts up with it longer than most do. She reckons he’s used to runaround answers from being around Pandora, but even Baby Black has his limits and before long he huffs exasperatedly, blowing a stray curl up before it falls right back where it was and he goes crosseyed trying to glare at it.

He levels her with a completely unimpressed look, “You’re a wretched, evil, thing, you know?”

She grins at him, a bit mean and very entertained, “Been called worse, I reckon,” he rolls his eyes, thoroughly done with her antics, but helplessly amused all the same, “Now, do you wanna know what your brother and his lot are planning, or not?”

Regulus leans forward, eyes bright. He may want to pretend he’s above such shenanigans, but she knows he’s every bit as mischief-inclined as his brother and his not-so-secret (to her anyways) boyfriend. Regulus Black is many things, but a stick in the mud is not one of them.

She leans forward in her seat too and whispers, “They’re planning to animate the Slytherin Quidditch lockers to chase after players while they’re trying to change for next weekend’s match,”

Regulus is actually surprised, that’s rather brilliant. The team wouldn’t see it coming at all, it’d throw them out of their rhythm and disrupt their pre-game routines. It has James written all over it.

“That rotten bastard,”

Tillie snorts, “Technically, he’s not a bastard, he has both parents, the lucky sod,”

Regulus rolls his eyes, “He doesn’t have good parent privileges right now. He’s a dirty, cheating bastard and I’m going to knock him straight off his broom on the pitch,”

Tillie widens her eyes, “You mean to tell me,” she gasps dramatically, “you’re capable of doing something straight? I didn’t think it was possible,”

Regulus chokes on air, and splutters indignantly, “Oi! Fuck off, Finnegan!”

It takes him only a few days to get Finnegan’s bomb-making materials. Just as Finnegan had said, no one questioned him about his need for such a collection of materials. Nothing was dangerous or illegal in of itself, and nothing was searched coming into the castle. He’d had Kreacher pick most everything up and bring it directly to his dorm. Once everything had arrived, it was simply a task of sending a school owl to deliver a note to Finnegan and meeting in an unused Potions lab for the transfer.

When Tillie arrived to the lab, she was nearly vibrating with a manic energy. He desperately hoped he would not get caught in the crossfire of this, but he had little hope of being spared. Sirius had once dumped a package of glitter into his hair when they were younger and he hadn’t been able to get it out for months. Did the Impervious Charm work on glitter? He bloody well hoped so. He’d have to ask Flitwick.

“Fucking insane, you are,” Regulus shook his head. Tillie giggled.

“Better than being normal,” she shrugged, “Now shoo. James is about to try and bribe the house elves into pouring a potion into everyone’s drinks at dinner. If you hurry, you might be able to find out what it is,”

He’s almost to the door when she snorts and snickers under her breath, “And maybe get a snog sesh in too,”

He sends a stinging hex at her without looking and his face splits into a grin when she yelps loudly behind him. Serves her right.

Their alliance (friendship) continues through the year. He knows she’s playing both sides of this prank war, but he finds it quite fun to try and feed her false information, or weasel information out of her. They constantly rile each other up, snapping out insults and banter like they’d been doing it for years. She gets along with Evan and Barty far too well for his comfort, and Dorcas and Pandora both enjoy her company. It takes him a while to get used to Bones and Vance when she starts bringing them around, but eventually they all settle into a peaceful agreement. He argues politics with Bones and Vance, and it takes him far too long to figure out why everyone calls the three Hufflepuffs “The Bombsquad”. It’s quite possible that he was the last person in Hogwarts to find out about Tillie Finnegan’s rather concerning obsession with pyrotechnics and explosives. Suddenly, all her exploded potions assignments made a lot more sense.

It’s nearing the end of sixth year, and Regulus has all but withdrawn from everyone and everything. He knows what’s waiting for him at home and his stomach is a constant pit of dread. He can’t eat or sleep. He has to end things with James soon to keep him safe and the thought of losing the one person who brings so much light and warmth to his bleak and cold existence threatens to tear him apart at the very seams. He goes through the motions day-to-day, but everything is hazy and discombobulated around him. He hears the lectures, but doesn’t comprehend the words. He sits in the library and stares at his textbooks, trying to read the same passages over and over and over again, but all he can think about is the imaginary noose around his neck feels like it gets tighter by the hour. It’s only a matter of time before the floor falls out beneath his feet and his life is over. He had so much he wanted to do, but this is the way his life works. He knows he has no choice. Not if he wants to keep Sirius safe from Walburga and Orion and the Dark Lord. War is coming, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t keep Sirius alive through it.

His thoughts are interrupted, in a way that’s strangely reminiscent of their very first meeting at this exact library table. But this time, when Tillie Finnegan throws herself in the chair across from him, she’s not alone. Amelia Bones hovers rather awkwardly at the remaining chair, before she sits down stiffly.

“I’m not getting you more glitter,” Regulus says in lieu of a greeting. His voice is raspy from disuse. He doesn’t actually know when the last time he spoke was.

“Good, cause that’s not what I’m here for. But feel free to spoil me with gunpowder any time you want,” Tillie quips. His lips twitch, as though they want to smile, but can’t.

“What do you need, Tils?” He asks.

She grins at him, but there’s something hesitant in it, it puts him on edge, “I need you to promise not to hex the hair off of us and to hear me out,”

Regulus blinks. Once. Twice.

“I..” he looks between Bones and Tillie, Bones won’t meet his eyes, “I do not like where this is going,”

Bones clears her throat, “It’s not a bad thing. Tillie is just convinced you’re going to hate our meddling,”

He shoots Tillie a dark look and sighs, his curiosity getting the best of him, “Fine,” he grumbles, “I promise not to hex the hair off of you and to hear out whatever inane, meddlesome plot you’ve devised now,”

Tillie and Bones slide a rolled bundle of parchment over the table to him. He pulls the leather thong binding it and his breath gets punched out of his throat by the words he reads.

Wizarding Persons Protection Incentive: For Children of Dark Families Who May Not Have A Choice

There are countless pages documenting the program and what it could provide, and a bulleted list for, what he assumed, names. He could feel the magic in the parchment as he held it, looking through everything. It detailed how the persons protection worked, what protections were laid in place, how the DMLE would uphold those protections, and the measures the department were taking to thoroughly vet each person wanting to come into the program.

“It’s officially been approved as of this morning. The Minister, Head Auror, and the Head of the DMLE signed it into effect to start before the summer hols.” Bones said quietly.

Tillie brushed his hand, and he jerked away, she smiled sadly, “You aren’t obligated in any way, Reg, but you’re a good person. You aren’t built for war, and Sirius isn’t the only one who deserves a happy ending,”

Tears spill over his eyes and he desperately, desperately, wants to believe her, “They’ll hunt him down if they don’t have an heir. I have to. I don’t have a choice,”

He tries to contain his sob, but the ugly thing rips out of his chest. It’s silent, of course, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

“Reg, Sirius is already taken care of. So is James. And Remus, and Pete. They’re all acting as, quote unquote, officers for the program. They aren’t going to be 100% out of the line of fire, but they’ll be working on muggleborn intel, and evacuating families before Moldyshorts can get to them. They’ll be under heavy protections at all times, and in charge of safe house rotations. Your parents would need to be the spawn of Merlin to get to Sirius, love.”

His breath was caught in his throat. Could he really escape this? Was it possible? Would he actually be able to live through the War and not have to sacrifice everything he is to a narcissistic, half-blood, megalomaniac?

Tillie breaks him out of his thoughts, “Reg, love,” she says gently, he looks into her eyes and sees nothing but kindness. She doesn’t pity him. He knows his desperation is plain as day on his face, but he can’t push it away. He is desperate. He doesn’t want to be turned into a monster.

Tillie gently takes the parchment back and rolls it up, securing the leather thong around it and stuffing it back into her bag. Her expression is kind and open when she speaks again, “It’s time for you to think about what you want, Regulus. Not what’s best for Sirius, or what your parents want, or what you’ve been taught is expected of you. Take tonight. Think about what you want. We’ll come find you tomorrow, and you can give us your answer,”

Bones and Tillie don’t linger, they leave him to his racing thoughts. He barely manages another half hour of trying to study before he shoves his books roughly in his bag and books it to his dorm. Evan and Barty are already there, in deep discussion.

Barty looks up at him and waves him over to his bed, “Fins talk to you about it?”

“Yeah,” Regulus says, arranging himself against Evan’s side at the headboard. His skin crawls a bit from the contact, but he doesn’t pay it any mind, “What are we doing about it?”

Evan drops an arm around Regulus, holding tight for a minute, “We’re a team, Reg, wherever we go, we go together, always.”

Barty nods sharply at Evan’s words. They all share a moment of silence, looking from one to another as an unspoken wave of understanding rolls across them.

“So we’re decided?” Regulus asks. Barty and Evan don’t hesitate to respond in the affirmative.

The next morning, each of them sign their names on that enchanted parchment with a flourish the first second they could.

No one could have known that a few elegant, swooping signatures would change the entire course of the War. Children from Dark families signed into the program from every house, desperately trying to escape the fate their parents lay for them. Voldemort’s forces didn’t grow exponentially in the lead up to the War, as his sacrificed child soldiers suddenly started disappearing. Dumbledore barely had a force to work with, the children he approached, certain of their answers, turned him away and refused to join the Order, no matter what he tried to leverage against them.

Without a supply of expendable foot soldiers each leader had anticipated, they’d been forced to fight their own war. Dumbledore had been forced to find the Horcruxes on his own. Tom had been forced to pick his battles, instead of raining chaos at any given opportunity. There were still battles, still bloodshed and deaths, but the war had been changed.

James, Sirius, and Remus had several close calls with Death Eaters while evacuating muggles and muggleborns, but most everything was easily healed. They had an almost impossible success rate for getting families evacuated and keeping them safe from Death Eaters. The three of them duelled fiercely together, and became a force that even seasoned Death Eaters were wary to reckon with.

Peter thrived in making plans, his love of strategy and sharp eye created easy executed plans of escape, evasion, attack, and defence. He could think from both sides of the chessboard, taught the officers how to anticipate their opponent, forced them to learn how to use stealth and speed together for the quickest and cleanest missions possible, but also taught them how to sacrifice the premise of a mission and still come out successful.

Lily Evans blossomed in her role as Healer alongside Mary MacDonald. The two of them devised emergency kits for every single member of the Initiative, something that had saved several of their lives over the course of the War.

Barty and Evan were stationed as the WPPI’s hit wizards and they revelled in being able to use the darker magics against Death Eaters. They wrought chaos and distrust among Voldemort’s ranks, using Polyjuice to infiltrate the ranks and sow seeds of doubt. They cut more than a fourth of Voldemort’s forces down alone.

They’d found out Dorcas and Marlene McKinnon had an uncanny knack for breaking into places and stealing things without anyone being the wiser. As Voldemort got more desperate to regain the upper hand, his plans became clearer and clearer. Dorcas and Marlene took a special kind of satisfaction at staying one step ahead of him at all times, getting to whatever book, artefact, or target he was after just moments before he did.

Pandora stayed well away from the War in any capacity, but frequently helped pass along information she gathered from the streets or from Visions.

Bones took the Ministry by storm when she flawlessly headed the WPPI and stepped seamlessly into the role of DMLE Head, when the former one had been killed by Voldemort.

Vanity fast-tracked into the Auror department and quickly became known for her ruthless duelling skills and on-the-fly thinking.

Tillie and her husband, Sean, stayed far away from the War and the efforts of the WPPI. Their son deserved a world where both his parents were there and available for him. That didn’t stop Tillie from sending a very, very large box of carefully crafted explosives to a safe house off the coast of Italy to a certain curly haired Slytherin who’d done her a favour years ago.

And Regulus? Well, he’d paid a visit to Number 12 Grimmuald Place and he’d buried his parents below tons of ash and flame. He’d torched the place he’d been imprisoned to his whole life and the place where his childhood had been ruthlessly taken from him. He stepped into his role as the Head of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black with an air of grace that only a Black could have. He used their fortune to buy up properties for safe houses, provide supplies for their Healers, and work the Wizagmont into a sustainable path for the future. He also frequently got nailed in the face with a signature glitter-filled mini bomb when he opened the package that arrived on his doorstep each month. He learned unfortunately quickly that neither the Impervious Charm nor Protego are effective in fighting off the onslaught of craft shrapnel.

The War ends when Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle duel for the last time. Their wandfire clashes together with an epic thundering and the contrasting jets of light explode as they meet. The leaders of war stand no chance against the concussive blast and when the dust settles, all that’s left is the bodies of two old men, half of a Phoenix feather and yew wand, and a perfectly split wand made from Elderwood and thestral hair. Their graves are unmarked, except for an inscription that reads: “Here lies the mark of men who believed violence would provide them power, and only succeeded in destroying their humanity in an attempt to seize it.”

Not six months after the end of the War, Lily Evans brings a little boy into the world who looks just like his father, but has Regulus’ icy blue eyes. Magical surrogacy had allowed James and Regulus to have a child of their very own, who was safe from the horrors of the war and could never be used as a tool to further an old man’s delusional agenda.

Harry Potter grew up in a world where he made “science experiments” with his best friend Seamus Finnegan, and helped his other best friend Neville and his mum in the greenhouses, and threw gnomes from the garden with his other best friend Ron, and swam in the lake with his (sometimes) other best friend Draco, and was babysat by his favourite cousin Tonks when his Dad and Papa went on date nights.

Tillie Finnegan wasn’t a war hero to the Wizarding public, but to a set of three Slytherins who had nowhere to go except down the irredeemable path, she was the best hero of them all.

[whatamibutabutteredcroissant]

For Vague Angst Dialogue:

11 "They shouldn't treat you like that." with Fearne, if you please?

Prompt Ok, so, confession time... I may have been a little dumb and reblogged some prompts because I liked them, and forgot that they're for ask games. However, I cannot stop thinking about this prompt and I've been looking for a reason to get back into writing. So, thank you so much for the ask, and I hope I can do it some kind of justice! (However it may be awful kdlakjhdlajsh) This ficlet is set in the hotel room in Yios. Also, hope it's ok that I don't write the exact line into this. <3

"Can any of y'all smell burnin'?"

Fearne could, in fact, smell burning. Fearne could also feel burning. But just as she was about to leap out of bed, there was a hoarse scream, and a splash, and then in place of the fiery heat licking up her left side there was the icy shock of a cold glass of water.

"Take that, you little bastard hellspawn!" cried the tremulous voice of one Mr. Chetney Pock O'Pea.

"Chet!" squealed Fearne, shooting bolt upright and clutching a screeching, soggy and very displeased Little Mister to her chest "Why would you do that? He was just trying to make himself all nice and cozy!"

"Cozy? That creature attempts arson on a daily basis, Fearne! How long d'you think it's gonna be 'til he actually kills one of us?" Chetney questioned, his normally adoring gaze replaced with one of a very pissed-off and sleep-deprived old man.

"Rheaaahk!" retorted Mister.

"Awwww, my poor baby boy!" cooed Fearne, her attention immediately diverted "It's okay bubba, Mommy's got you, she's not gonna let the nasty little man hurt you anymore. He doesn't get to yell at you like that.". Mister draped himself over her shoulder with a foul glance at his attacker, and a few more disgruntled chatters. "There we go. All safe and snuggly". Fearne looked up from her position on the bed to see the rest of the Hells watching her, unimpressed but not sure how far to take the matter. A flash of worry crossed her mind. What if they tried to make her sleep separately from Mister? What if they tried to make her get rid of him? He was her only little piece of home, her constant throughout all of her travels and uncertainty. Without him, she would feel so vulnerable, so out of place, so-

Orym's tiny hand brushed her shoulder. "It's okay, Fearnie. I think he's learned his lesson for tonight. How about we find him some sort of heatproof blanket tomorrow? That's the joy of being in a city. They've got a fix for every problem, you know.". Fearne's jaw unclenched at her best friend's steady voice, and she was once again reminded of how grateful she was for the ever-calm and rational presence of Orym.

"Okay." she whispered, and stroked the soft (but slightly damp) fur of her beloved fire monkey.

The rest of the group made noises of agreement, and started getting comfortable again in their respective cuddle piles. Laudna wistfully stroked Pâté, before nodding at Fearne, and Imogen put a hand on Laudna's shoulder in understanding. Ashton grunted in acknowledgement before turning their back to everyone, and Letters gave a last nervous glance around the room before powering off once more. Relief and gratitude flooded into her bones at the immediate acceptance from her team.

"Sorry for throwing water at you, Fearne." said Chetney, a shadow of guilt on his wizened face.

"No, that's okay, Chet. Thanks for not letting me burn to death." replied Fearne. She laid down and offered him her arms, and drifted back to sleep with Chetney as a little spoon, Orym in the bend of her knee, Little Mister in the crook of her neck, and the knowledge that no matter the problem, her little family would always help her find a solution. Even if there was some impromptu baths, arguments and chaos along the way.