#I started this morning and am now at chapter three so clearly not doing that

[v-thinks-on]

Finally started reading Jekyll and Hyde assuming it would be mostly from the good doctor’s perspective as he puzzles out the cause of his own decline, like a somewhat more confused Dorian Grey. Instead we’re following the adventures of Jekyll’s lawyer/friend who is introduced at the beginning of the story thusly:

Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable.

And somehow, it’s right! I’m a few chapters in and I find myself surprisingly charmed by his unfailingly awkward description, and yet very loyal friendship.

[madamechrissy]

Keep This Low Key

💜 Pairings: Choso x F!reader Rating: Explicit- MDNI

💜 Contents/Warnings: Very emotional at first, but then it lightens up and gets sweet. Light angst, heavy at the beginning, forgiveness and trying for each other, a little jealousy and hurt, lots of kissing, fingering, oral (f recieving), lots of sexual tension and feelings

💜 Word Count: this chap - 10k (long one)

💜 Summary: You have been Choso's best friend for years, and one night he has a date with Yuki, his girlfriend, while you have a date with Ino, your boyfriend, only for them both to break up with you at the same time! You all think of calling each other, but run right into each other. Choso brings you home since you didn't even have your car, and you two are crying over a couple beers and a silly movie, only to have a sudden idea. Why not say fuck dating, fuck heartbreak, and just fuck each other?

No drama, no mess, no upset, and you two are such good friends, nothing can go wrong, right? The only agreement is no feelings, and if you all find a s/o, you'll end things. But the moment Choso opens his heart to you, and the moment you start falling, things get messy, as you realize he's the best you've had, and you're falling hard. Will you all stay friends, become more, or will everything blow up?

✨️Comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoy- A/N- I attempt to write a song, I am sure I failed be nice abt it lol! ✨️

Chapter Four 💜 Masterlist 💜 Playlist 💜

Chapter Five

It has been two weeks since you spoke or saw Choso. He finally stopped texting and calling a few days ago, finally stopped showing up at your work every morning with that cup of coffee that you asked your coworkers to take instead. You don't even look or respond to him, it's too far gone, it's too much.

You don't respond to Satoru either, he was clearly there for fun, which is fine but you can't believe what you've done. After being so set on sex being this end all be all, Ino’s dumping you so soon after clearly fucked you up, and hopping in bed with Choso had been the biggest mistake.

You are out with Utahime at the club, dancing together and giggling, enjoying her so much, even as you miss Choso like you live and breathe. It's all too much, and you don't know if you can ever repair what has happened, to undo the tangled mess you both had become.

You're not putting fault all on him, but you're still hurt by him. You didn't go to his concert, you hate yourself for that, but it would hurt too much to see. You sent good luck necklaces to the three of them with a note saying you were sick (you especially hate to let the boys down too) but there's not much hope for it, not when you can't stomach facing him.

If you never kissed him, you maybe could have lived your life just fine, if you never had him look at you that way, if you never slept in his arms, you could have said it was friendship. But now, even your strong, fourteen year friendship is hopelessly gone.

Take a shot.

Dance.

Laugh 

Take a shot.

Take a selfie with Utahime.

Dance more.

Laugh.

Hollow laughter, laughter that rings just wrong, your eyes aren't as bright when you look in the mirror, but you think you can puzzle together the pieces.

Men flirt.

You ignore it.

Have a drink now.

Dance under the strobe lights.

Laugh.

You're almost human, or at least you're pretending to be, and it almost works, buzzed off your ass and dancing with her helps, giggling as you all walk out in your heels to your ride helps. Taking more selfies and giggling at the reacting on Insta helps, you feel good…

Well, almost.

Choso haunts all of your damn thoughts, it’s like you can’t even imagine things before him, like this gaping hole in your chest. You are tipsy when you get home, images flash as you walk through the door, Choso holding you against it, him on his knees in front of you. Then more images of Satoru, which make you sick.

You never thought actually doing something with the guy you had it bad for since forever would bring you down so badly, it made everything snap into place, things that didn’t make any sense in your mind. It was never just sex with Choso, not from the moment he kissed you and called you beautiful, because you know what ‘just sex’ is, Choso was beyond it.

Now there was nothing left between you.

Choso hearts your pictures, and something shifts, something almost makes you sick about it, not talking to him. You crave to just forgive and forget, to act like this friendship is fixable, to act unbothered, but you can’t just go back now. The decision was made when he first kissed you on that couch, when his tongue ring clicked on your teeth, when his big hands brushed against your waist.

You see his IG is Amber free, and hers is Choso free. You don't know what that means but you can't bring yourself to care anymore, you'd tried to make any sense of any of this and have failed. When you think too much about it, about your decisions, you sob so hard your eyes burn, your cheeks sticky.

You wash your face, put your hair up into a bun, you go back to all of your routines, without Cho Bear things don't really bring you the same joy, but finally you think you can let some of the heartache mend. Snatching up a book and your favorite plush, you snuggle on the couch, buzzed and dizzy. Luckily Satoru doesn't bother you, just a dick pic here and there, you roll your eyes at him.

He was good at what he did, fuck he was real good, but it was not what you wanted, it was what you thought you had to do, to prove something to yourself, that you were inexperienced and overthinking it. But, you were wrong. Choso pushes you to your worst, and you just can't let it continue, you can’t be that girl.

Choso calls, you go to hang up and accidentally hit answer, cursing quietly, hearing the hope in his voice as he says your name.

“What is it?” You ask, tone soft but cold, you haven't talked and don't want to.

“I know you hate me, and I don't blame you. You should.” You tear up as you hear his voice breaking. 

“I don't hate you, I just can't be in your life. I'm sorry.” You sniffle, hiccuping on a cry when you set your book down.

“Will we ever be friends again?”

“I don't think so, but it's not all your fault. We both fucked up.” Choso sighs over the phone, you imagine him in your mind's eye. Sexy and shirtless maybe? Low hanging sweats? Is his hair loose and long?

“I haven't talked to Amber. I never will again.” You blink now.

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does! It does. What I did was horrible to you.”

“It's over now. Don't dwell on this. I have to go.”

“Please, please… anything I could do to make you smile again. I hate that I caused this.” You sigh shakily as you hear his crying over the phone. It almost gets to you.

“I'm okay, I promise. Choso I'll always care, I'll always be rooting for you-”

“Please, please… please forgive me.”

“I do. I'm not angry. I'm sad.” You cover your face, choking on your sobs as he does. “I don't hate you not one bit.”

“I hate myself.” You shake your head and can't stop the sobs from wracking your body.

“I know that feeling well.” You both take a breath, both hating what you've lost. “But I promise I don’t hate you, I couldn’t. Take care, please.” Your voice is just a whisper, but he hears you.

“Please, anything, I will do anything, let me make it up. Let me fix it!? I know I'm stupid, I know I was wrong. Please.” His heartbreak in his voice makes it crack over the phone, you’re devastated then.

“Just let it go, okay? Let it go.”

“I don’t want to let you go. I-”

“Good night.” You hang up quickly, cutting off whatever words could wreck your resolve, your hands violently shaking, you press them between your thighs, staring as the phone rings.

Cho Bear.

Will you miss him forever?

*****

It’s been three weeks since you last spoke to Choso now, he quit calling finally, it’s sort of like it was when you were with Ino, when you two couldn’t keep your friendship, but it’s worse because you know what you could have. God, to have even been able to go on a date with him? To imagine building something so beautiful, but instead you’ve ruined it all.

You’re shocked when Megumi and Yuuji are knocking on your door, you stand there still when Yuuji barrels you with a big hug. You sigh, hugging him back, Megumi snakes an arm around you after as well, you almost tear up a bit, thinking of how close all four of you have been so long.

“I missed you two.” You say softly, shutting the door then. “What brings you all over here?”

Yuuji swipes a hand through his pastel locks. “What did Cho do so bad that it’s been three weeks of you ignoring him?”

“Yuuji…” Megumi says with a sigh, dark eyes looking at you seriously. “What he means to say is Choso misses you, bad.”

“He’s so depressed he won’t even play.” You blink at that, looking away then.

“Won’t play? When has Choso not played?”

“He won’t even leave his room aside from work.” Megumi says, your heart breaks further and further.

“I… we can’t be friends. I’m sorry, you two.”

“What, why!? You’ve been friends almost my entire life? As long as I can remember.”

“Yuuji…”

“Did you two…” Megumi trails off, you blush furiously then. “Oh.”

“Oh what? Did what?” Yuuji’s voice annoys Megumi clearly then.

“Tch, just stop.” He looks at you now, seriously. “Is it that bad?”

You nod quietly, sighing and shutting your eyes. “He wouldn’t wanna see me anyway.”

“That’s not true, not at all. Please, just come over, you don’t even have to hang out with him, just let him see you.” Yuuji begs, yanking on her hand now, pulling you towards him so his hands can rest on your shoulders. “You’re his best friend in the world, you can’t just not be one anymore.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Your tears start running before you can stop them, Yuuji frowns, Megumi brushes a hand up and down your back. “I don’t think me and Cho can fix it.”

“So start new.” Megumi’s voice stuns you. “Start fresh, whatever happened you two can get over it. Have you never had problems, fights?”

“Of course we have. I… I’m scared to even face him.” You cover your face and start crying then, letting the weeks of despair fall out with tears as they comfort you. “Guys I can’t.”

“Just spend time with all of us. I know it would brighten his day, you don’t know how bad it is.” Yuuji’s voice breaks just a bit, and then you realize, Choso must be hurting as much as you are.

“Let me get myself together and I’ll head over.” You say with a small smile, emotional as you think of seeing him again.

Could you all ever go back to being friends, when you are so in love with him… love, yes.

Love.

You’re hopelessly in love with your former best friend, how would you play it casual, how could you even face him?

*****

Choso can’t stand not seeing you, not hearing your voice or your little laugh, god he misses your scent, your presence, your everything. Even if he couldn’t see you, he used to swing by and give you that coffee, and you turned every cup down, not even acknowledging him. The heartbreaking call last week had him finally giving up, realizing he had done too much damage.

How could he hurt you like this?

He thinks back now, to all the signals you gave, to all the clues where he has been so clueless. Choso never got attention from girls, a shy guy, a nerdy guy, it’s been the past couple of years he’s gotten popular with his band. He didn’t realize Amber was that insane over him so quickly, and even so, he saw that hurt on your face before the incident in the car.

He told you one thing but did another, and of course you’re done with him, of course you probably went home with Gojo that night, how could he blame you? There you were, painting things clearly, and here he was, not understanding a thing you meant, like the words couldn’t compute, he couldn’t fathom you felt that way.

Choso has barely left his home for the past three weeks, but for the past week he has barely left his room, guitars unplayed, notebooks left unwritten and sprawled all around his room. He can barely eat or think of anything but you, aching to call you, to see you, but he knows he can’t anymore, he knows he’d just be doing more damage, how could he be so foolish?

The doors open of his room and he grimaces then, as his little brother keeps trying to energetically get him out of the house, to give him all this hope that you two could make up, as if it’s even possible. He blinks and covers his face with his plaid blanket.

“Go away.”

“Cho?” He hears your voice then, making him jump up out of bed, sheets all rumpled and a mess, thinking he’s dreaming.

But you’re there.

You’re here.

Your eyes look just a little puffy, your lips trembling as you see him, he tries to smooth his hair, knowing he probably looks terrible, he hasn’t even showered in days he’s just rotted away. Choso struggles to pull himself together, walking towards you then, and he sees it, you’re trembling, as if you can’t even handle this, seeing him again.

But he was wrong.

When you see him like this, a whole mess and so depressed, it destroys your heart, you can’t take it, even as much as you both had messed up here, he was your closest friend in the world. He was always by your side through your heartbreaks, and you were by his side, and now? You were both suffering alone, and for what, for the fear of not forgiving each other?

Choso doesn’t even know what you’ve done, he doesn’t know you were just as bad as him, maybe worse. No, you two don’t date, but it felt wrong, what both of you did, especially in your heart, you didn’t do it for fun, you did it for some petty sense of revenge, and now it’s hard to face him, but you do. You face your best friend who looks like a mess, with his eyes glimmering with tears.

It’s quiet then, Megumi clears his throat. “Let’s give you both a minute, maybe you can make him shower?”

Yuuji nods. “Please do.”

They leave, shutting the door to Choso’s room, a room the last time you were in that he had sex with you, but was it sex? Or did he make love to you?

How he’d stared into your eyes, cupped your face so gently, how he’d asked every moment if things felt good, if you were okay. The memories make you ache, and not just physically, they make you ache for all of him, for his sweet smile again, for him to just hold you in his arms. You’re just standing there, and so is he, you both open your mouths, then shut them.

He’s clenching his fists, stepping closer now, terrified you’ll just run away, but you don’t. You stay there, looking at him, as he feels emotions in his throat, as the tears begin to fall. He steps a little closer, and you let him, giving him the silent go ahead to approach you further, your chest rising and falling with your breaths as they come faster and faster.

Another step, and your boots are toe to toe with his bare feet, and Choso is looking down at you, his hands hovering just above your shoulders, as if he’s scared to touch you. You feel the sobs building in your chest now, not a word is spoken, but seeing your best friend who you love in tears, along with your own regrets makes you break apart.

“You’re here.” He says your name then, and you break into tears when he pulls you against him for a hug, those tight ones in his strong arms you’ve loved forever, you feel so safe, so right. He’s stroking your hair, pressing you against his chest as your arms wrap his chest. “I didn’t know if I’d… if I’d… see you…”

He’s sobbing out his words, you look up through your tears, seeing him, his stubble, his dark circles as you sniffle. “I’m here, Cho.”

“Feel like I’m dreaming of you.” He squeezes you so tightly, but you crave it, you love it, against him finally.

The room is quiet, aside from both of you quietly crying, sniffling and laughing softly when you look at each other. “You do need a bath, gosh.”

“Hush.” He’s smiling, that heartbreakingly sweet smile you’ve come to love, but you have to pull back a bit, taking a breath, eyes fluttering shut when he cups your face, like you’re precious. “I missed your pretty face.”

“Did you?” You tease softly, opening your eyes, burning from tears.

“I’m so sorry for everything, I am sorry I didn’t listen, that I hurt you.” You feel almost sick now, shaking your head. “I fucked it all up, I did-”

“We both did. I have to tell you something.” He nods then, shoving aside a bunch of things to clear you a seat in his gaming chair, pulling you by it, arms on either side of you as he sits on the bed.

“Anything.”

You take a breath, hoping it will help you, but you feel sick thinking of it. “I was intimate with Gojo.”

Choso blinks long lashes, frowning before nodding. “I figured, that night maybe you slept with him?” He tries to hide the hurt in his voice, but fails.

“I didn’t have sex but… um… oral.” You feel like sinking into the goddamn carpet below you, Choso clears his throat, looking away for a moment.

“I figured so, but was it because you wanted to? Was it because he’s Gojo, an old fling? Was it… for fun? Or… was it because I pushed you there?” His heartbreak is so clear it affects you physically, you’re shifting in the seat, fiddling with your hair, sighing nervously.

“It was my decision, but it was based on seeing her with you, it hurt so bad, but it’s no excuse. I acted on impulse and felt awful.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t feel bad, please.”

“Cho I… we…”

“It’s because of me.”

“It’s not!”

“You always try to defend me, even when I’m wrong, and I was so wrong here. You tried to tell me.”

You’re nodding through more tears, he rests his forehead on yours, as you both take shaky breaths. “I did try to tell you, but now I don’t know what to do, how can we go back to how it was?”

“I don’t know but I’ll do anything, be anything for you.” Your eyes lock, his a glittering violet, dark sooty lashes wet and spiky over them.

“Maybe we should start new?” You ask softly.

“As friends?”

“I don’t know, maybe something else.” Your brace yourself for impact, but his next words fill you with so much hope.

“How about… we go on a date.”

“A date?” You blink in confusion.

“A date, me and you, I am asking you on a date. A real one, a proper one, and we get to know each other as… maybe more.” Your heart races then, you feel it, the giddiness at the thought, but then the guilt.

“You wanna date me? After what I did?” Your voice is breaking, you’re no better than him really, maybe you’re worse? What he did casually, you did in retaliation.

“Oh, sweetie…” He brushes your hair back gently, it feels so good, so perfect then, in his room, with his touch. “You did nothing wrong to me, I think it felt wrong for you though?”

“It felt wrong, so wrong. I hate myself for it.” You’re just a breath away from his lips, but both of you hold that inch apart, you bite your lower lip, his eyes dart to it, but he stays that distance.

“What you did makes sense, I’m just sorry I made you feel you had to. I don’t want games, or hurting each other anymore, please. Let’s just have a date, and if you like me, we’ll do another.” You giggle then, the sound makes his heart swell, it makes him so fucking happy, to see how it lights up your face, even as he brushes tears away, thumbs with faded black polish barely on.

“So we’re going to take things slow?” You whisper, hands gliding up his chest, making him tense then.

“Yes, you deserve slow, you deserve to be treated right, and to choose what you want. If it’s me or not, I think we should try, what’s here, this connection? It’s…”

“Epic.” He smiles then, nodding, thumb brushing against your jaw now.

“I’d die to kiss you but I’d like to earn it, please.”

“It better be something nice, now. And you’re paying.” He grins, you’re wiping his tears now, running your hand through his dark messy locks.

“I’ll pay, don’t worry. Will you wear something that shows off that perfect body of yours?”

“I could be persuaded to. But you’ll be a gentleman.”

He nods, holding your little hand over his chest. “I will be.”

You feel it, the flutters in your tummy, at the thought of something like this, it seems so silly, but you’re giddy, hopeful. “So we’re… gonna go on a date.”

“Tonight.”

“You absolutely need to shower then, I can’t with all this.” You tease, he pulls you against him tightly, kissing your cheek, your temple, hugging you just so, you feel his heartbeat on your cheek.

“I wish you could get in there, fuck I miss every bit of you.” He exhales, you feel his words hit your core, you’re aching now, clinging to him.

“I miss it too.” You look back up now at him, smiling as you both just sit there, quietly. “I’m sorry Choso.”

“I’m sorry, angel. So sorry.” You nod, trying to pull yourself together then, brushing your cheeks with shaky hands. “I will not ever let you down again, even if you hate this date, even if you decide we should be acquaintances, just any part of your life you have me in, I’ll follow.”

“Shh.” You kiss his cheek now, cheeks that tinge pink under the light brush of your lips. “You text the time, and I’ll be ready. Oh, and you better shave.”

“I will.” You smile so pretty at him, as Choso’s mind whirls once you leave. A date with you, he needs it to be perfect.

You came to him, you were real.

Yuuji and Megumi burst in now, and Choso has this silly grin on his face, much to their relief. “You better not fuck this date up.”

“You all were listening!?”

“Just to some of it! Choso!”

Megumi snorts. “He’s gonna kill you, Yuuji.”

*****

Choso pulls up in his little Mustang, you stand there so nervous in the night, having gone over twenty outfits before landing on a little black dress, you figure you can’t go wrong with that. It’s lacy on the chest, it cinches just so in the waist and flares out flirtatious, along with a black jacket since the night has a chill. You see his mouth drop when he gets out of the car, making you flush.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says softly, like he’s in awe, it makes you feel beautiful then, Choso makes you feel so much, like you are so special.

“You look handsome, Cho.” You smile up at him, taking in his black dress shirt and slacks, fitting his muscled frame so sexy. “I’ve never seen you dressed up like this? Where’d you get these?”

“Put away from a wedding.” He admits, you giggle then, the sound brightening his world, as he takes in your gorgeous face. “Your makeup is beautiful too.”

“Oh thank you! Youtube tutorial.” He grins, brushing his fingers along the backs of your cheek then.

“You nailed that shit.”

“I missed the fuck out of you.” He nods, leaning so close, dying to kiss you, but you deserve the night, a night all about you, to take it slow, so he pecks a kiss on your hand, taking it in his. “Gentleman Cho?”

“Mmhmm. My lady.” He teases, your pulse flutters in your throat as he opens the car door for you now, making a show of dramatically bowing. His hand is on your thigh when he’s driving, yours brushes the backs of his knuckles, so much still left unsaid between you, but the comfort of each other overpowers it.

“Where are we going, Sir?” He exhales, not able to handle you calling him Sir because fuck the thoughts going through his head are insane now.

“We’ll be there soon, I think you’ll like it though?”

“I’m nervous.”

“Me too.” He admits, looking at you as the lights of cars drive by, reflecting against your pretty face as he drives you through the night, catching each one of your features just so every time. “Breathtaking.”

“Oh stop.” He hums a bit, big hands squeezing your thigh gently, thumb brushing along your inner thigh now, you shift just a bit. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for being so pretty.”

“Whatever, you’re too much.” You roll your eyes and his laugh fills the car. “I hated it, Cho, being apart.”

He exhales now, grip tightening. “God, me too. I couldn’t bear it, not at least seeing you for that one minute in the morning, it hurt.”

You feel the pain in his voice, no matter how much he tries to hide it from you. “I couldn’t…”

“It’s okay, angel. I understand. You’re probably still hurting, but you’re here.”

“I am here. Terrified.”

“Me too.” Choso pulls up now, and you see it, a beautiful boat in the night, making you gasp at it.

“What!? Oh gosh, I expected a movie?”

“I thought we could have dinner here and just… talk? Relax together? Enjoy the view.” You nod excitedly, and soon you’re walking along the planks, alongside couples strolling arm and arm, Choso watches you carefully, as the breeze blows your hair around your face.

You look like art to him.

You are art to him.

“It’s gorgeous here my god!” Your hands are on the railing, looking up at the clear night sky, the gentle waves of the ocean rolling. Choso can’t keep his eyes off of you, when he agrees.

“Gorgeous.” You look to him then, heating up at his insinuation, at the way he’s looking at you so sweetly, so enamored. “I never meant to make you…”

“It’s fine, Cho.”

“No.” He tilts your chin up, with two long fingers, making you look up at him now. “I never meant to make you feel less than. Not good enough, or worthy enough, you’re worth everything.”

“Gonna make me cry right now?” You whisper, lips trembling, he aches to brush them against his, aches to make every part of you covered in his kisses.

“Just know I appreciate this night, even if it's only once.”

“Hush, Cho bear.” The nickname, so silly and cute, hits him with the nostalgia, of all the years you both were the best of friends, giggling and spending every moment together.

“I’ll hush then, let’s go eat.”

You find yourself across the table from him, you’re nervously eyeing the menu, eyes bulging out. “This is too much.”

“Stop it, please? I did really well for myself with the last show.” You hate that mention then, that you didn’t go. “Don’t be upset about it, I get it. We got your gifts which were very sweet you know.”

“I wanted to go so badly.” You look away, taking a breath, then he’s yanked his seat, dragging it across the floor with a screech, next to you, and you love it, his thigh brushing against yours, his sweet smile.

“It’s okay, I understand. I do. I know you have supported me always, I don’t know if I let you realize how much I appreciated it.”

“I can’t cry, I have on eyelashes, stop.” Choso laughs softly, leaning close and pulling up your menus.

“I’ve never gone on any kind of date to a fancy place, I wanted this to be with you, okay? It’s nothing. But…” He whispers then. “I have no clue what any of this stuff is?”

“Me either! No pictures!?” You lean over then to a couple near you, they smile at you both. “Any advice?”

“I picked the filet mignon, at least I knew the word.” She says, you giggle, nodding then and peeking at Cho.

“That one?” Soon you’re giving the waitress your order, and you can’t help but notice that she’s flirting with him, but instead of how he’d usually be sweet and hopelessly clueless, he wraps an arm around your waist, as if showing that he’s here with you.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted in one gesture.

Ino picking his ex over you, Satoru having picked random girls over you, and a serious lack of dating has made your shitty limited experience have you extra insecure, something you realized this past month. Choso even just calling you his friend, though it was true, had hurt deeply once you were intimate.

You’re trying to take it slow, one moment at a time, but god he feels so good, against you, with you. He’s cutting at your steak and feeding you little bites, you both sip wine and just enjoy each other as the boat sways through the water. It’s unlike any date you’ve had, you don’t have to get to know him, don’t have to impress him. He’s Choso Kamo, the man you’ve adored forever.

“So it’s a date, what’s your favorite color?” He teases, you snort in laughter, rolling your eyes.

“Oh stop like you haven’t known since middle school, it’s blue. What’s your favorite color, emo boy, black?”

“Emo boy!?” You are both losing it with laughter, with his every little touch, his sweet smile, he carves his damn place further in your heart.

The dessert comes, a chocolate lava cake with a scoop of ice cream, and you laugh at his messy eating, the way he gets chocolate on the corner of his mouth. “You’re so messy.”

“So were you, I remember.” His husky tone makes your mouth drop open, desire clutching you tightly, especially when he licks it off, you can’t help but remember the taste of him, the feeling of his body against yours, the way that tongue just fucking did things.

You clear your throat, trying to shake the thoughts away. “Not gentlemanly, now is it?”

“It’s not, I’m sowwy.” He gives you puppy dog eyes, and you can’t take how cute he is then. You laugh softly, wiping a smudge of chocolate from his face with your thumb. “What’s so funny?” He asks, licking his lips.

“You are.” You reply, unable to stop smiling.

“Am I?” You nod, he’s so close then, his hand on your thigh under the table cloth, you have insane thoughts, what would it be like for him to play with you, right here?

“Shit.”

“Shit what?”

“Nothing.” You sigh, running fingers through your locks now.

“Open up.” Why does everything sound so attractive!? You do as he commands, opening your mouth for him to fork a piece of the chocolate cake, you chew thoughtfully as he watches you with avid attention. 

“Food on my face?”

“N-no. Just so pretty.” He’s blushing now, it takes everything not to completely melt, but you’re still a little scared, a little hurt.

When he’s driving you back and you’re in the car, it also takes everything not to jump him then and there, not to let everything overwhelm you. His hand rests on your knee, smiling over at you when you pull up, the tension is still there, the words so unspoken, you want to say more, do more, but you know you shouldn’t yet.

“Would you like to go to our concert this weekend? I would really love it if you came… I may have a surprise I’m working on.”

“I’d love to, Cho. I miss seeing you guys.”

“Megumi and Yuuji really miss you too.” The guilt eats at you, Choso notices, frowning, dark brows drawn together. “I don’t say that to make you feel bad, they understand somewhat.”

“We fucked up so bad.” You blink rapidly, suddenly the car is too small, your hand going to the handle. “I should say good night.”

“Let me.” Choso is opening your door then, taking your hand in his, and you feel it, those butterflies swirling in your tummy, the desire for him in every way possible, as you give him a little tremulous smile. “Can I walk you to your door?”

“You can indeed, Sir.” You’re smiling so big you can’t stand it, you both are on your porch now, your hand still in his, which he brings to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. “You’re like an Emo Disney Prince, Cho.”

“A what!?” You’re giggling again and he snorts in laughter, covering his face. He laughs so hard, and soon you’re just both laughing, looking at each other. He cups your face then, making your pulse race, your laughter easing now, as you stare at him. “You look so beautiful like this.”

“Snorting in laughter?” You ask with a quirk to your lips, he nods then, brushing his thumb on the apple of your cheek.

“Much better than tears.” There is so much between you both, a part of you wants to run inside and hide, another part wants to drag him in and kiss every part of him, but your hand goes to his chest, feeling his heart racing just like yours, just feeling him, being with him.

“I love seeing you smile. I can’t believe we ruined it.” Your whisper breaks him, he shakes his head then, leaning even lower.

“We didn’t ruin anything, maybe we… changed things?”

“You think? Can you… forgive me too?”

“Oh angel, there’s nothing to forgive. We both made a mess of this and hurt each other, but I never once was mad at you.” You step even closer now, swallowing nervously, your hands sliding up to wrap around his neck now, one of his arms wraps your waist. 

 “Thank you for a beautiful evening, Choso Kamo.” You murmur, a little smile on your lips.

“Thank you for being you.” He whispers, the warmth of his palm seeping through your dress, making you gasp at it, just the brush of his fingers down your back ends you damn near. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling his breath against your skin, waiting for it, waiting for his kiss.

But he just watches you, with your lips pursed, and your eyes shut, his heart fucking stopped now. He knew it, that he loved you, he had suspected it for so long, but then and there he knew he was madly in love with you. Part of him wants to give you a sweet kiss, the other wants to fuck you so good you forget Gojo ever touched you, warring parts in his mind.

His thumb tilts your chin up, and he pauses. “May I kiss you?”

Your eyes open in surprise. “You may.”

As his lips brush against yours, it’s at first sweet and lingering, but then it is like a spark ignites a flame, a passionate desperate kiss that you both crave forms, tongues dancing together, tasting the sweetness of the desert on both of your lips, the tart of the wine, and tasting each other.

Your hands are in his hair, his arms around your waist as he bends over you, you’re both lost in it, lost in each other. His thumbs trace little circles on the small of your back, making you arch into him, his kisses becoming more insistent, more needy. You feel it, the desire coiling in your tummy as he presses you even closer against his hard body, as one of his hands entangles in your hair.

You break apart for a moment, both of you panting, staring at each other, his eyes are full of desire, his pupils blown wide, and you see in his own eyes your face, lips parted, your own eyes lidded with desire. You both ease back, he rests his forehead on yours, desire coursing through his veins.

“It’s taking everything in me not to go inside, to have your taste all over me.” His words end you almost, you’re panting softly, nodding then.

“I know, I want it too.” He kisses you again, softer and easier, taking a deep breath and stepping back, leaving just a couple of inches between you now.

“I want to do things right this time. I want you to feel you’re put first. Please, don’t cry, angel.” You can’t help it, it’s everything you’ve wanted and needed to hear from him, tears streaming silently.

“They’re happy tears this time.” You manage to whisper, he exhales then, brushing them gently, kissing your cheeks.

“I hope soon I can ask you to be my girlfriend.” Your heart stutters then, he tenses as if he’s said something wrong. “Not yet I mean… if…”

“N-no, I’d like it soon. I agree we shouldn’t go further tonight though.” He nods quickly, kissing you once more and standing straight, clearing his throat, he’s rubbing the back of his neck all awkward and cute, the Choso you’ve known forever. “You’re still you, hmm?”

His lips turn up a bit. “I’m still me. You’re still you.”

“I am still me. Text me the details of the concert? I’ll be there.” He beams brightly at that.

“Yeah!?”

“Yeah. Good night, Choso. Thank you.”

“Good night.” After he’s watched you go inside, Choso is covering his face, breath coming so quick, he’s kissed you, and not just as some prelude to sex, no he kissed you after a date.

Everything in him is melting, things aren’t completely lost like he thought, it’s like this beautiful rainbow has entered his world again, illuminating the darkness that losing you had left behind. He’s not even sure he deserves your forgiveness, but he knows he will make sure he earns it properly. He stares at your shut door for some time before he leaves, the longing making him ache.

You’re covering your face, a huge fucking smile on it, as your back is against the door, then you have a hand on your heart, feeling it beat again, for the first time in weeks. You take off your heels, unzipping your dress then, heading to the bathroom to start taking off your makeup, mind whirling. Choso wasn’t lost, and maybe you weren’t lost either.

You try not to get your hopes too high, to not be too quick to think everything will be fine, you both hurt each other deeply, and you have a lot to go, but tonight made the dark bright again, made you realize Choso was your brightness. When you’re in bed, snuggled under the blankets, your phone buzzes and you look quickly to see it, a text from Choso.

Cho Bear: I hope you have a good night, but I have to admit… I’d die to have you in my arms.

His text hits hard, it hits brutal, it was only one night he’d held you like that, but you can’t get it out of your head, how it felt perfect. Like you were supposed to be there, safe and protected, cherished. Even now to think of him holding you brings emotions forwards, the longing in his words matching yours.

You: That would be lovely, I enjoyed that night.

Cho Bear: I enjoyed it too much, especially watching you sleep.

You: Creepy sleep stalker!

Cho Bear: A little bit.

You’re giggling again, eyes heavy now, and he sends the details of the concert coming up while you yawn.

You: I can’t wait, good night Cho.

Cho Bear: Good night, pretty.

You also see a text from Utahime, asking for details, you’re half asleep with one eye open as you text her back that it was so fun. She had encouraged you to go and give it a try, and you’re so happy you did. She gives you a million heart emojis then, making you smile sleepily.

To be in Choso’s arms, you don’t know if you’ll get there any time soon, but in your dreams, there you are.

*****

“She came!” Yuuji exclaims that weekend, you and Choso were back to him bringing you that coffee at work, in fact it came along with a little peck on your cheek every morning. It would make you think of him all day, it would put this goofy smile on your face, but aside from that, you haven’t seen him.

The concert is at a very popular club in the city, and it’s packed, there is Choso’s band and a couple others there, when you walk in and you see them. Yuuji waves excitedly, Megumi gives a little nod, and Choso brightens up, calling your name and waving you up to the stage then.

“You came!” He picks you up in his arms then, a giant bear hug that makes you feel so small as he lifts you up, you hug him around the neck as your feet dangle off the ground, smiling against his cheek.

“Of course I did, I couldn't miss it.” He eases you down as some onlookers come, one including Amber, who makes Choso tense as she strides up.

“Choso, I haven’t talked to you! In forever…”

“Is that your girl?��� Another girl asks, Amber laughs then.

“They’re friends.”

You gulp now, panicking as several people come around curiously, and you want to fall into a fucking hole, terrified of what his answer will be, you’re not together yet, so whatever he says…

“No, she’s my girl.” You blink up at him, gasping, he eases you down and wraps an arm around your waist as the whispers start.

“Your girl?” Amber asks, arms crossed with a scowl.

“She’s pretty!” Someone else says, making you flush, snuggling up to Choso, leaning up to whisper in his ear.

“You don’t have to do this.”

He looks at you then, shaking his head. “I want to.” He murmurs, pressing a little kiss on your lips in front of everyone, Megumi and Yuuji are grinning as the girls are babbling, and people from the crowd ooh and ahh. But Amber?

“Really? Her?” Choso tenses then, glaring over at her.

“Yeah, her, what’s that mean?”

“Cho, it’s okay…”

Amber stomps up to him then, leaning close. “You forgot the last time we hung out?”

“I’d love to forget. You can go on if you mean to insult her, because damned if she’s not perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Why don’t you go on?” Megumi says then, eyeing a bouncer. “Or we could have you escorted?”

“Whatever.” She grumbles, dragging her friends out with her, and suddenly you can breathe just a bit, looking up at him.

“You didn’t have to say all that, it’s okay really.”

“It’s not okay for her to talk that way. She’s nothing.” He cups your face, forgetting the audience right along with you, until Yuuji clears his throat, and you smile at them, tummy doing fucking flips at how good you feel.

“Thanks Megumi.” You say softly, he shrugs.

“She’s a bitch.” You snort a bit, covering your mouth, looking up at Choso again, who has a more serious expression.

“Is it fine I called you my girl?” He asks, you feel it, his nerves then, you nod with the biggest smile, and he exhales. “Okay, good, because I want it to be true.”

“Maybe it will be, let’s see this surprise.” You tease, pecking a kiss on his lips softly again. “I can’t wait.”

As you’re sipping on a drink you watch them start their set, you’re right up front and center, watching Choso’s finger strum the guitar like they’re made to do it, he leans close to the mic and starts singing. His voice resonates through the entire room, earning everyone’s avid attention, including of course, yours.

You watch him intently, as he performs songs you’ve known forever, you’re cheering and dancing and he keeps smiling at you, keeps looking at you. You feel so special then, more than you can ever remember feeling, the fear dissipating with every honeyed flick of his fingers on the guitar, at moments you shut your eyes and just let it wash through you.

You head to get another drink as they prep for the next song, when suddenly there’s a hushed quiet when Choso speaks, making you turn back around and stare at him.

“This song was written in a rush, these two had to learn it so fast, they probably wanna kick my ass.” He says, the crowd laughs a bit, you’re headed back through them with your drink, smiling up at Choso curiously. “But it’s dedicated to someone special, someone I’ve known forever, but who has become very special to me.”

He says your name then.

You can hardly remember your name before he spoke it, before he looked at you like that, and he’s pointing at you, earning the crowd parting just a bit for you. You feel the heat of everyone’s gaze, hear their murmurs, but you’re too entranced and in shock to really see anything but violet eyes across from you on the stage.

“I hope you… I know you’ll get it.” He says then, hoping the lights on the stage didn’t make his blush show too much, then he begins playing, as do Megumi and Yuuji, a melodic tune that sounds nothing like you’ve heard from them.

A/N: *disclaimer I am no songwriter, be easy on me lol*

When the world fades to gray and all I can see is you,

When the nights blend to days and all I feel is you.

The smile on your face it dances across all my dreams,

Feelings so raw it’s like I’m bursting at the seams.

The melody is soft, it’s not their usual rock music, it’s a ballad so beautiful it brings tears to your eyes, hearing the hoarseness of Choso’s voice as he pours his heart into every word. You sniffle and take a shaky sip, trembling as everyone watches you both in wonder, but it is just you two, isn’t it? Hasn’t it always been?

I’d die to have you in my arms every night,

Oh what I’d do to hold you so tight.

To press kisses along your lips,

To touch you with fingertips.

You’re heating up now, breathless as you continue to watch, utterly enamored, it’s as if you feel these words like a physical touch, overheating your body. You break apart that last barrier of fear, piece by piece, because you can’t just make this up, you can feel it, all of him, in all his sincerity.

In a crowded room all I see is you,

Praying at night for all my dreams to come true.

A girl with a smile that can brighten my heart,

A girl with eyes that tear me apart.

Your eyes are a mess, you’re absolutely sure that there is makeup running down your face, as he melody continues, as he starts pouring his heart to you, as he makes you smile, as he makes you melt. You’re trembling so hard your knees nearly knock, aching to be held by him, for him to never let go. You know you have to take things slow, but at this moment it feels impossible.

Feelings I’ve always known,

Feelings I’ve never shown.

She’s the girl that you write songs for,

She’s the girl that I’ve longed for.

By my side through it all,

Never knew we could fall.

The realization that I have come to,

That there’s nobody but you

At that moment you’re a mess, he ends the song but before he can finish you’ve jumped on the stage, he swings his guitar behind him, and you kiss him, pulling him down to you as everyone claps for him. It’s thunderous, but you don’t hear shit, just your pulse racing, just Choso’s heart thudding, he pulls back with tears in his eyes, breaths coming so quick.

“Choso, I hear you. I feel you.” You whisper, brokenly then, and he kisses you deeply, arms wrapping around you.

“I do mean it, I mean it all angel.” You nod, swiping at your tears and smiling so brightly, he leans close, cupping your face, smiling.

“Finish the set.” You whisper, giggling then as you hop off the stage, everyone is enamored as Choso clears his throat, and they start their usual fare. You head to the bathroom, slamming into Amber then, who scoffs at you.

“You, hmm?” She demands, earning your glare.

“What’s your problem with me? It’s not like you and Choso dated.”

“No? Well he sure had his cock in my mouth.”

You tense now. “And? We weren’t together.”

“Don’t you think…” She leans close. “That if he really wanted you, he’d have been with you this entire time?”

“I…” Your mind whirls with doubt, she smiles all nasty at you.

“No worries, I got Gojo’s number, maybe I’ll take your other guy?”

“Psh, like I care about Gojo. Please do, maybe he’ll quit sending me his dick pics.” You say, smirking at her then, she is furious at you.

“He said you’re just friends, you know.”

“Yeah well, I don’t care what he said. It doesn’t matter. We’re not ‘just friends’ any longer, so I expect you to back the fuck off hmm?” You step right to her, damn near nose to nose, and she backs up just a step.

“We’ll see about all that.” She walks off now, leaving you shaky as you peer into the mirror, you feel sick at thinking of them together, once you pull yourself together somewhat you step out, seeing her all clinging to his arm.

Choso shrugs her off though, glaring, and when he sees you he starts walking your way, filling you with so much relief, it’s like you can breathe again. “Was she a bitch to you?”

“Yeah, she’s really salty.” Choso snorts then, kissing you gently for everyone to see. “I hate that you were with her.”

“I hate you were with him.” He murmurs, leaning close to your ear. “How slow are we taking this?”

“Mmm…” You trail your hands down his strong arms. “We said slow…”

“I could eat you out really slow?” Your eyes shoot up to his, god you haven’t been touched that way in so long, and by him especially, you feel his words shoot between your thighs. “I want to feel you cum so badly, watch your pretty face, your last time cumming was…”

“Thinking of you.” You cut him off, surprising him then. “It was playing with myself, thinking of you.”

“Fuck…” Choso kisses you deeper, pressing you against the wall right by the bathroom, his hands on your waist, pressing in. “I’ll take it slow, whatever it is you want to do, I will.”

“You wanna lick me slow huh?” You’re giggling at the thought. “Lick me where, Choso?”

“You know where, you’re so bratty right now.” You can’t stop your giggles, making him desire you even more. “Don’t I owe you a couple orgasms?”

“Maybe you do. Two I think.”

“So I’ll give you two, and we won’t go further… yet.”

“Where?” He exhales now.

“I want you home… I mean… my home.”

“Staying the night is a lot really quick, this is like our second date?” You tease, he smiles shyly then.

“We can just cuddle, we can do anything. Please just come home… over to my home…”

“You’ve said that twice.” He is a blushing mess, it melts you. “I’ll come over for a night cap then.”

“Yeah!?”

You laugh, nodding. Soon you’re pulling into Choso’s home, and it’s a little nerve wracking. Then you remember the last time you were in his bed, you don’t know how you hold back. Choso’s bending down, slipping off your heels, pecking kisses up your thighs then, earning your gasp as you’re dripping wet in your panties.

“Wanna get more comfy?” He asks softly, you nod shyly then, and soon you’re only wearing one of his soft band tees, coming out to see Choso has made you a drink, he hands it to you as you walk in the kitchen, leaning on the counter then. “You’re so beautiful.” He says, brushing your hair back.

“You’re beautiful, Cho bear.” He shakes his head with a little eye roll.

“You always sucked at taking compliments.”

“I know, ugh.” You sip on the drink in the quiet kitchen then, he bends over you, arms on either side of the counter.

“Do you know how badly I wanna fuck any memory out of your head of him?” His words hit you violently, your pussy throbs around nothing. “I won’t yet, but if you think I don’t you’re insane.”

“I… you…”

“I’ll settle for licking the memories out of your pretty head.” You can’t stop the whine from the back of your throat then, only urging him on, he’s got you lifted on his counter then, shocking you. “Let me take care of you, angel, yeah? Just like that first night, when I first tasted you.”

“Please.” Is all you manage, and Choso’s slipping up your shirt, moaning when he finds you bare, sinking to his knees then, he’s so tall it puts him right at face height with your pussy, which his breath alone makes you jerk. “Cho…”

“So fucking perfect.” He swipes a tongue up your slit, your hands enwrap in his dark silky locks, as he shoves your thighs apart, tongue ring hitting your clit. “Mmm… so yummy, fuck.” He huffs now, black blunt nails pressing into the plush of your thighs as he slips his tongue up again.

“Cho!” You whimper, already pathetic, he watches the arousal pool from your little hole, making him throb, cock so hard he can’t take it. He starts drinking you up, the slurping sounds in the kitchen erotic, as his barbell keeps flicking over and over. “Oh my god…”

You’re already close, it’s so quick but he knows you, he knows your pussy, where you like it, what pressure, and when he’s sucking your clit in his mouth, humming on it and watching you, you fall apart. You can’t hold back at all, cumming so much it’s a mess, all over his face, which he eagerly drinks while you’re yanking his hair so hard it hurts, but it makes him harder.

“Good girl, that’s it.” Choso murmurs when he pulls back, you’re blinking vision back, blinded then, taking several breaths as he leans up, slipping a finger in your slick walls, which clench him. “So tight, fuck… soaking me, huh angel?”

“Mnh…” You can’t manage a word, hearing your greedy pussy sucking his fingers so deep. He’s curling it up, leaning to you, lips brushing yours, you lick yourself right off him, hands shaking as you clutch his shirt. “M-missed it… f-fuck…”

“I missed you, missed feeling you.” Choso’s words, his finger curling sends you back over that edge, your eyes roll back, head falling, he kisses down your throat then, slipping another finger. “Feel that stretch, huh baby?”

“Ngh!” You nod, gasping when he’s back down, using his fingers and his mouth at the same time, bringing you higher and higher, all while violet, dilated eyes watch your every expression. Choso’s pulsing himself then, as your walls flutter around him, as your slick pools down his wrist, so slippery now, all while he drinks you, watching you fall apart.

You’re shaking violently, thighs closing around his head as the orgasm washes over you, as the coil in your tummy releases, your scream is so loud your voice breaks in the middle. You’re sobbing when he’s done, it’s so fucking good, gasping for breath, he places a kiss on your pussy then, groaning at it, and you desperately yank him to you, kissing him.

He moans, deepening the kiss, and he feels it then, the sticky hot cum from eating you out start pouring in his sweats, he panics at it, pulling back, and looking at your cock drunk face, eyes dilated so much he can barely see the iris. Your cunt is drooling, he leans down to lap it up again, whimpering as his cock pushes out more cum, picturing it in you.

“Cho, lemme take care of-”

“Ah, no… I already…”

He leans up now, blushing furiously, and your eyes dart down, seeing it now, soaking wet spot on his sweats, sticky white pooling through the material. “I didn’t touch you?”

“You didn’t have to.” He smiles nervously, exhaling. “I’m sorry-”

“No! No… it means you really love it.” You whisper, biting your lip as he eases you off the counter. Choso cups your face carefully, words of love threatening to spill, but he doesn’t know if you’re ready yet.

“Loving it is an understatement, watching you cum? Your pretty face? The way your body shakes? I can’t explain it. And your taste, how wet you get… I couldn’t take it, it just… happened.” You giggle now, earning his glare. “Are you laughing at me? That cruel, hmm?”

“No, I’m just… it’s so cute!”

“Cute? Ugh.”

“I’m sorry it is sweet, and cute… and flattering.” You kiss him over and over, uncaring as his sticky lap presses against your tummy. “I can clean you up?’

“Oh god, I won’t make that right now. No, I want it for you, tonight.”

“Like the first night?”

“Mhmm.” He kisses your forehead now, exhaling. “Let me clean up and we can cuddle, if you want?”

“I want.”

Soon you’re back somewhere you never thought you’d be again, Choso Kamo’s strong arms, he’s got one wrapped around you as you lay on his chest, trailing little circles mindlessly against his bare skin, over his tattoos. You know the story behind them all, you went to him with most of them, but you can’t help but find them incredibly sexy.

His other hand brushes up and down your spine, making you shiver and hum just a bit, you lean your chin up, looking at him then, feeling the words threatening to spill, but not just yet. “I’m still scared, Cho bear.”

He frowns at that, sighing. “I know, angel. I know.”

“I want to say more, but…”

“You can wait, we have all the time, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You kiss him and smile, blissed out from his presence, from the pleasure he brings you.

“How about another date?” You nod eagerly, smiling against his neck as you snuggle up to him.

“I’d love that. I’ll pick it?”

“You’ll pick it.”

“I hope Amber will fuck off by the way?”

“You can beat her up?”

“I could.” He moans at that, yanking you closer.

“Hot.” You both giggle. “I didn’t enjoy it with her. Physical and nothing else? It felt so…”

“Empty.”

“Yeah, empty. But fuck I can’t forget the hurt on your face, and I hate it still, that it made you…”

“Cho…”

“I hate him, I’m sorry. It’s like he knew you were upset and thrived off it.” You wince now, shaking your head.

“He just wanted fun, I doubt it.”

“You’re too sweet sometimes. If I see him? I can’t make promises.”

“You’ll kick his ass for my honor huh?” He chuckles.

“For lots of reasons, starting with high school. Even then, I wish…”

“It’s okay, we have now. Let’s not focus on back then.” He wishes he could change it all though, take away your pain, but he’s so thankful, he nods now, kissing your head and continuing his gentle touches. “This feels so perfect. It’s scary how perfect.”

“It is perfect. Good night, angel.” You yawn, smiling and shutting your eyes, snuggling deeper as you fall into a slumber, the tentative happiness making you sleep quickly, though there’s fear in both your hearts, of what could come between you.

“I… love you. I’m in love with you.” Choso whispers, as he hears you lightly snore, making his heart swell in his chest, hoping one day soon he can tell you.

A/N- I know the last chap was HEAVY with the angst, but they had to go through the worst and a seperation, truly to find each other. The story isn't over, and not done yet, but I hope you're enjoying it even if it got dark for a bit here! I look forward to your comments

Taglist: @erencvlt @antisocialinlw @aquamarine001 @maskedpacific @mima0127 @yxnnu @lana18918 @bigbird789  @angellliqua @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @staygoldsquatchling02 @bts-psycho @lillycore @mysticalnightbeliever @wystriz @tokyolhtl @imabyssa @delicate-ray-of-sunshine @ivyvenus333 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @sparklydeerface @10honeybee01 @marie-is-in-the-dark @lavender-hvze @angelcakkess @bellasworlds-stuff @pauliiis-stuff @mysouleaten @city-of-lovers @teddiiursula @flowerbbybananamilk @anna-reader-blog @loveisnanami @nymphsdomain @mollyrocks420 @ilovemrsilver @kitzuuuu @skzynct

perma tags: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @cuntphoric

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[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 8

[chap seven] | [all chapters here] | [chap nine]

Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

Warnings & Notes | fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

Author's Note | I am NOT in control of myself when I write, this chapter took on a mind of it's own. I didn't plan for it to go this way, but boy do I love the drama that unfolded anyway. I hope you all suffer just as much as I did lmao~~

WC | 4.9k

Chapter Eight

Instead of your usual midmorning trek to fourth period with Eddie, the two of you - and the rest of the student body - were making your way to the gymnasium for another redundant pep assembly come Monday morning.

Even before you became disenchanted with the superficiality of the popular crowd, you detested assemblies. You actually preferred being in class over being crammed into the gym with a bunch of sweaty teenagers all halfheartedly cheering for the next upcoming sports game or student council election. Even when you were considered an It Girl, even when you were dating Duncan, you still found the whole school spirit thing to be total bullshit. You never cared for the false excitement and encouragement; it was a waste of your time.

This particular pep assembly was thrown together to officially announce the homecoming theme for this year. Why that task required a whole hour of time was beyond you. If past years were anything to go by, then the actual announcements would be wrapped up within fifteen minutes and the remaining time would be wasted on cheerleading routines and jazz band performances.

After ditching the student council some three weeks ago, you cared even less about all this shit than you did before - what interest did you have in celebrating the reveal of some stupid theme inspired by pop music or cheesy dance movies? You’d already decided you sure as shit wouldn’t be attending the school dance, so why was it obligatory for the entire school to attend this assembly in the first place? The heavy-handed force upon students to participate in school activities was something you had never understood, even when you yourself were a part of those groups that lived and breathed school spirit.

As you entered the gymnasium, you stole a glance at Eddie, who appeared just as disinterested as you as his eyes darted around to take in the awaiting student council and their eager smiles. His arm was resting lazily over your shoulder, which you were finally becoming accustomed to, to the point that you would nearly forget it was there sometimes. Hell, you were almost beginning to enjoy having Eddie’s arm there, not that you’d tell him that or even spend a minute wondering why that was.

“I still think we have time to run out of here before anyone notices.” You suggest, drawing a fake look of reprimand from Eddie; he grinned at both your blatant detachment and at your eagerness to skip school for the second time within a week.

“And miss out on everyone acting so impressed by whatever dumb idea they have now? Not a chance.” He teased while guiding you towards the far end of the bleachers. As a pouty scowl crossed your face, Eddie helped you up the steps to take seats just a few rows from the front.

While you impatiently waited for this damn assembly to finally start, Eddie’s friends slowly filtered into the gymnasium as well, each approaching you two with the same apprehension they’d had when they first met you. These guys were still clearly intimidated by you, and you still hadn’t taken the time to open up to them. As Jeff awkwardly shuffled onto the bench in front of you, your knees brushed against his back thanks to just how cramped the bleachers already were; you pulled back from the contact, twisting your body as best you could so that your knees could rest against the side of Eddie’s thigh instead. You didn’t catch the way he smirked to himself about it, content to see that you were shying away from contact with him less and less than you had before.

As the last of the stragglers entered, a trio of freshmen walked towards your group, clearly going for the last few seats in front of you; just as you were nearly prepared to tell them to buzz off and sit elsewhere, Eddie cherrily greeted them with clear recognition. You looked between the boys’ faces with critical puzzlement before turning to Eddie expectantly.

“Don’t tell me you’re friends with freshmen.” You said as if it was a dirty word. Upon seeing the way your brow curved with judgment, Eddie gave you a look of warning, as if silently asking you to please not scare these kids; when you glanced at their faces again, you figured it was too late for that.

The boys awkwardly squeezed into the bleachers, looking back over their shoulders so they could converse with the rest of the losers club that you were now a pseudo-member of. One of the boys accidentally met your watchful gaze, causing him to trip over his words as he quickly wrenched his eyes away. You couldn’t help the slight upturn of your lips - you knew you were always intimidating, but you still found amusement in how people reacted to you.

Your eyes narrowed in realization as you continued to stare at the boy, who clearly was trying to engage in conversation as if he couldn’t tell you were watching him, “You’re Nancy’s brother, aren’t you?”

The whole group looked at you, the freshman in particular seeming wary to speak to you considering your straightforward and cold aura, “You know Nancy?”

You tilted your head at the way he asked the question, which seemed to make him a little more nervous, so you taunted, “Why do you sound so surprised?”

As the Wheeler kid looked as if he were searching for the right response, Eddie gave you a little nudge, to which you gave him a faux look of innocence. The two of you stared at each other for a moment longer before Eddie returned his attention to the younger boys he was clearly attempting to befriend.

“Don’t let her scare you,” he started in a lighthearted tone, similar to the one he’d used with Gareth the week prior. He leaned down towards the group conspiratorially with a funny grin, feigning a dramatic whisper, “fear only makes her stronger.”

The group laughed a little, Eddie seeming to put them at ease; you jabbed your elbow into his ribcage as he straightened back up, sharing an amused look with you. At the same time, the cheerleaders started on some generic, peppy routine out on the basketball court, drawing the crowd’s attention as they shook their pom-poms and called out school chants. As you assessed the cheerleading squad with dispassion, you unconsciously relaxed into Eddie’s side just a little; over your shoulder, Eddie grinned to himself.

Once the cheerleaders wrapped up their set and students began to clap eagerly, the class president, Duncan - the vice president - and a couple more members of the council took to the court. You couldn’t help but sneer as you watched Duncan smile widely, clapping the class president on the shoulder as the crowd began to quiet down. The president - a good friend of Duncan’s named Trent - made a show of hushing everyone, as if whatever he had to say was of the most dire significance.

As you watched them, you found yourself wondering how you had the patience to put up with all of this in the past. Did you ever actually enjoy the false comradery, the sense of importance, the trivial joys of a school dance? Or were you just blindly going along with all of it in order to continue fitting in, to continue maintaining those flimsy friendships?

“Good morning Hawkins High!” Trent started into the microphone in his hand, rousing the crowd for another few moments as Duncan spoke into the second mic.

“We can’t thank you enough for your excitement so far!” You rolled your eyes with pursed lips, sharing a judgmental look with Eddie that caused you both to smile, “Now, I know everyone’s been eagerly awaiting this year’s homecoming, but we’ve got some more exciting news to go over before we announce the theme.”

Eddie tipped his head so that he could talk in your ear, ensuring that you could hear him clearly over Trent and Duncan’s speech, “This was the guy you dated for half a year?’

His taunting led to another jab of your elbow, causing him to cough out in surprise while pulling back to give you an exaggerated wounded look. He leaned back in to continue.

“He’s so… vapid.”

You mirrored Eddie, turning your own head so you could speak in his ear, “Honestly, I think I tuned out at least 80% of his bullshit.”

You could feel his small laugh against your ear, “That’s generous of you.”

“My patience hadn’t entirely run out at that point.” You responded while trying to eye Eddie in your periphery, feeling his hair tickle your cheek, “I guess I was good at pretending.”

“You still are, princess.” Eddie pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, as if to emphasize his point. You were still pretending, after all, just in a different way than before. In the midst of this conversation, how could you have momentarily forgotten that this whole thing with Eddie was a sham?

Righting yourself quickly, you smirked, hoping that Eddie hadn’t detected that singular moment of hesitation and confusion that you suppressed, “Well, you’re much more fun to pretend with.”

You turned your attention to the student council for a brief second as Trent was finally rambling on about the homecoming theme for the year - Footloose, of all things. You could still feel Eddie’s eyes trained on you, and in that moment you weren’t exactly fond of him staring; it caused you to squirm a little in your seat as you feigned total ignorance of his watchful gaze studying you.

“So I am fun?” Eddie teased, drawing your attention back to him, “Careful there, princess, you’re starting to reveal that you aren’t so bad under that icy exterior.”

Despite the roll of your eyes, you grinned at Eddie’s remark, playfully nudging him.

Out on the basketball court, Duncan took over from Trent, and you caught him saying it was time to announce the nominations for homecoming king and queen; the only reason you even spared him another glance was because he listed himself and Amelia, of all people, as the first couple on the docket. Since when were they a couple? That felt like an intentional jab at you, but on the other hand, you figured they didn’t care enough to insult you in this way. Right?

Returning your attention to Eddie, you raised a playful brow, ignoring Duncan’s voice as he droned on, “Don’t start telling people I’m nice, Munson, you’ll ruin my reputation.”

He dipped his head with a devilish, scheming look, “Isn’t that my job? To ruin your reputation?”

As you opened your mouth to give him some smart reply, you suddenly heard yours and Eddie’s names leaving Duncan’s mouth, a confused hush falling over the crowd as only a scatter of people halfheartedly clapped. Your stomach dropped as your eyes widened in realization, Eddie’s expression a mirror of yours. You both slowly looked towards Duncan, meeting his eyes from across the gym; he stared back with a histrionic, false smile, obviously playing innocent for the crowd. But you knew him well enough to recognize the mean, challenging glint in his eyes.

Your eyes slowly scanned the cluster of students on the gym floor - Amelia was now standing with Duncan (and giving you a blatantly supercilious look), Jason Carver stood with his long-time girlfriend Chrissy Cunningham, and star student Todd Stephens was arm-in-arm with Veronica Schneider. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest as realization set in, prompting a look of frustration and dread to befall your face.

Duncan brought the microphone back up to his lips, putting on an all too innocent voice as he held your eyes, “Well, are you two lovebirds going to join us? Come on, don’t leave everyone hanging.”

Duncan put you and Eddie on the ballot for homecoming king and queen.

Anxiety twisted at your gut as you grew hot with anger, your harsh eyes unblinking as you stared Duncan down; and he just looked back with that stupid grin of his. You were never one to feel self-conscious, to feel embarrassed, but in that moment, you recognized just how quickly you’d fallen from grace. Humiliation was not a feeling you’d known before, but in this moment you suddenly felt as if you were drowning in.

And you knew that’s exactly what Duncan wanted.

God, you wanted to give him a piece of your fucking mind. You wanted to march right up to him, jab him in the chest with your manicured finger, and make him wish he hadn’t dared challenge you in front of the entire school. And yet, you were frozen in place, trapped in this imbalanced staring contest with Duncan as he continued to play at innocence.

Beside you, you felt Eddie tense up, his arm having fallen from your shoulder at some point, perhaps in total disbelief. But you couldn’t bring yourself to even look at him, to try to gauge what exactly was going through his head - you were too busy staring at Duncan as if your eyes could possibly cause him harm. Your hands formed into fists of rage, your jaw clenching as you were about ready to just to your feet and decimate Duncan with your words.

But as he’d proven himself to be good at time and time again, Eddie beat you to the punch, raising a hand to his mouth in order to project his words, “You know we’d beat all of you!”

You whipped your gaze to Eddie abruptly, surprise causing some of the tension in your face to mellow out. From this close, you could see the apprehension in Eddie’s eyes, the worry hidden there, but to the rest of the school you were certain he looked as if he was entirely too relaxed and composed about this whole confrontation.

Eddie briefly glanced at you, but quickly returned his gaze to Duncan challenging, “The rest of you wouldn’t stand a chance against us!”

A wave of laughter passed through the crowd of students, but you weren't certain if they were laughing with Eddie or at him. Duncan shared a look with the rest of the homecoming court, smiling mockingly at each of them before returning his attention to the two of you; you wondered if he was truly as confident as he looked.

“You think so?” Duncan called back with contempt, daring Eddie to continue. Without realizing what you were doing, you pressed your hand atop Eddie’s knee as if it were a warning, silently asking him not to egg Duncan on. Despite your impulsive desire to jump to your feet and attack Duncan yourself, you couldn’t picture any possible way for this whole melodrama to turn in your favor.

“I’d bet on it!” Eddie challenged again, managing a rather convincing bold smile. Your chest twisted again, your cheeks growing warm with both rage and edginess.

Duncan made a cocky face, finally looking away from you and Eddie to address the crowd as if this was all just a part of the show, as if you and Eddie had played your part and he was now done with you, “Well, we’ll leave it up to all of you! Voting begins today, so come find the student council during lunch hours to place your votes!”

The crowd seemed to lull back into ease as Duncan and Trent continued onto the next phase of information, acting like the past few minutes hadn’t put even the slightest of dents in the assembly festivities. As excitement began to build back up in the crowd, you sat in a daze, still trying to process this entire fucking thing.

Your hand still rested atop Eddie’s knee, and you must have unconsciously squeezed your fingers a little too roughly into his skin, because you heard Eddie hiss beside you. He grabbed your wrist to remove your hand, drawing your eyes to his; you stared at each other with blatant confusion and upset, and it was muddling your brain, making it impossible to think straight.

“Hey--” Eddie started, but you abruptly wrenched your wrist out of his hand and shot to your feet, shoving past all of Eddie’s friends as you stumbled the most straight path accessible down the bleachers. Although the student council continued to speak exuberantly to the crowd, you could feel the intense stares of so many of your peers following you as you quickly stormed out of a set of double doors.

You marched away from the gymnasium with a vexed shine in your eyes, your face red hot with frustration. You couldn’t believe what Duncan just pulled on you, still couldn’t quite come to terms with how shitty that whole thing was - was the entire student council in on this, too? Did they all share a collective laugh when Duncan suggested this disrespectful prank? Had Janet even attempted to say anything in defense of you?

God, you nearly shouted with rage. You thought walking away from your tormentor would help you calm down, but in some stroke of cruelty being alone with your thoughts only made them worse. The fact that someone you once considered a friend - someone you once dated - would make a joke of you in front of everyone was easily one of the more painful things you had to endure.

With an exacerbated sigh, you stopped your incessant marching, considering this whole fucking situation with gritted teeth - in some twisted way, you had gotten what you wanted. After all, it was you who wanted to become some kind of social pariah, you who wanted to be cast out by everyone you thought you knew.

It sure as shit wasn’t supposed to happen like this though. It’s not as if you were exactly thinking ahead when you decided to become completely detached from everyone, but you had never considered that you’d be treated callously. No, like a fool you had hoped that all the popular kids would simply ignore you and pretend that you had never even existed, moving on with their lives as if they’d never even met you. Evidently, your former friends were far more cruel than you’d given them credit for.

Trying to pull yourself together, you leaned against the nearest wall, massaging your temple with your fingertips while breathing deeply. You were the ice princess, the chick who always got away with being cold and bitchy and rude, but you realized in this moment that your reign was most certainly over. Despite your penchant for opinionated crassness, you had never truly been the type to flare with anger as you had today; but of course it would be Duncan to cause this surge of outrage within you.

And you were stupid enough to let him see just how upset you’d gotten.

You knew you had to get it together, to shove down all this distress and instead put on your usual brave face for the world to see. Next time you saw Duncan, you had to read as calm, cold, and only mildly annoyed - you couldn’t hold onto all this wild-eyed agitation.

As you closed your eyes and rested your head back against the wall, you heard someone approaching, prompting you to sigh through your nose as if that would calm you down. You glanced in the direction of the first steps, your gaze falling on Eddie. Of course, it was Eddie - did you really think it could’ve been anyone else?

His entire being practically radiated concern, his eyes shining with unease, his fist clenched around the strap to your book bag that you abandoned when you ran out. As if approaching a skittish animal, Eddie came to lean against the wall with you, the pair of you standing together in contemplative, frustrated silence.

You could feel your upset rising again, unaccustomed to having a companion at your side in moments of anger. You always loathed the idea of being comforted, of having someone there telling you to relax, telling you that everything would be okay. And perhaps you were simply assuming, but you hoped Eddie wouldn’t try to calm you down - you needed to just let yourself be pissed for a while.

“I can’t believe he fucking did that.” You finally said, voice laced with malice. You shook your head in disbelief, staring at the opposite wall, “He’s even shittier than I thought.”

Eddie hummed in agreement, but said nothing, as if he didn’t know the right words to offer you right now. Good, you’d rather he didn’t say anything right now.

Another beat of silence fell between you two. You watched the wall clock with laser focus as you tried to compose yourself, following the second hand as it ticked rhythmically - you had about ten minutes to get your shit together before everyone filtered out of the gym. You couldn’t let any of them see how pathetic you felt.

After one more tense minute, you felt Eddie’s fingers reach for your own, brushing against your knuckles as if hesitant to grab your hand, unsure of what kind of response he’d get. You flinched away while looking down between you, meeting Eddie’s eyes a moment later; he was clearly trying not to show any kind of hurt at your small rejection.

He pressed his lips together as he briefly considered his words, “Come on, I need a cigarette.”

His fingers skimmed past yours again as if to gauge your reaction; you neither pulled away nor reached for him, so with a look of acceptance on his face, Eddie pushed himself off the wall. A mean part of you wanted to shoot Eddie a nasty look as you began to follow him - in your own selfish way, you found yourself wanting to put some of the blame on him, wanting to act like he was part of the problem. But you refrained from reacting poorly, allowing Eddie to guide you out the doors and around the side of the gym, en route to the football field.

Following just a couple steps behind Eddie, the two of you finally reached the bleachers, ducking under them to hide out from any potential prying eyes. As you rested against one of the posts, Eddie dug out a cigarette and lighter, putting a bit of distance between the two of you as he walked deeper under the bleachers. You crossed your arms tightly in front of you while biting the inside of your cheek with annoyance; you watched closely as Eddie inhaled a deep breath of smoke, his eyes looking anywhere but you.

Unintentionally, Eddie’s lack of eye contact fueled your own upset, and suddenly you found yourself annoyed that he couldn’t even seem to look at you. Instead, he stared off in thought, slowly blowing smoke out between his lips. Wordlessly, he held the cigarette out towards you; any other time, you would have taken it from him without a second thought, but this time, you gave Eddie the cold shoulder, turning your attention away.

He dropped his arm limply back at his side, and you could feel his eyes on you for a moment. With a heavy sigh, Eddie brought the cigarette back to his lips; you wondered if the sigh was thanks to you or this entire situation.

“Don’t let him get to you.” His tone seemed a little unsure, scratchy thanks to the smoke coating his throat. You met eyes, Eddie’s stare conveying his own frustrations while yours was mean. To add fuel to the fire, you twisted your face into a snarky look.

“I think it’s a little late for that, Munson.” You said in a clipped tone as you raised your chin defiantly, catching the brief flash of upset that crossed Eddie’s face at your attitude; clearly, he hadn’t expected you to turn it on him all of a sudden. Admittedly, you hadn’t expected it either, but it leapt out of you without any control.

Eddie took a defensive step towards you, his gaze firm as he took another drag from the cigarette; he seemed at conflict with himself as he responded in as level a tone as he could, “Then get it together and don’t take it out on me.”

As you stared back at him with your characteristic coldness, you could feel all your emotional walls building back up - just as you feared, Eddie was trying to get you to relax, and you were too upset to care if you retaliated with an attitude. Right now, you wanted to be mean just for the sake of it, to push him so he’d stop trying to comfort you. You didn’t need him to pretend to care - this was a fake relationship, you reminded yourself, but that didn’t mean Eddie also had to fake niceties when shit got hard.

Eddie gave you a look of warning, as if somehow he could read your mind, as if he could tell that you were trying to block him out. And you nearly made a face as if to mock his concern, but you managed to refrain, pressing your lips firmly together.

“I already made myself look stupid in front of the entire fucking school, I can’t act like that didn’t happen.” You whined, abruptly spinning on your heel to begin pacing once again, that stupid habit of yours that did nothing to calm you down, “I’m a fucking joke.”

You couldn’t stand the look that crossed Eddie’s face, although you weren’t sure what exactly it meant - there was something akin to pity in his eyes that you didn’t like, “You’re not.”

His response was simple yet stern, and you threw him another snide look a moment before he turned his gaze away yet again. Were you beginning to piss him off? To upset him? That cynical part of you hoped so.

Eddie breathed deeply for another couple of moments as he collected his thoughts, his voice a touch smaller than it was a moment ago, “This is high school, princess - you can’t take everything so seriously.”

Frustration started to well in your chest as you glared at his profile, at his dumb little frown, the way he fussed with the cigarette between his fingers, the slight slump of his shoulders, “Well, I do. All I wanted was for them to forget about me, but instead they’ve decided to make me some kind of a target for their immature bullshit!”

“Welcome to the club!” Eddie rounded on you, abruptly matching your antagonistic tone; his eyes were dark, if not a little wild, and you were nearly taken aback, but instead your glare only deepened. You’d never seen Eddie look angry before, and the rational side of you that was buried extra deep right now decided that you never wanted that anger to be directed at you again.

Edd took a moment to think, laughing without even a trace of humor before he inhaled another deep breath of smoke, his eyes narrowing a little as he continued, “What the hell did you expect? Did you really think you could start hanging around a freak like me and get off scot-free? I know you’re not that naive, so don’t act like you didn’t see it coming.”

You gaped at Eddie’s bluntness, completely unprepared for this show of temper. For only a split second, you could feel yourself getting overwhelmed, but just like every other feeling you had, you shoved that down with a scowl. You two stared harshly at one another, the moment stretching out uncomfortably between you. Eventually, you shook your head with a scoff, turning your back to Eddie.

“Of all the things I could’ve done, I can’t believe I thought coming to you for help was the best option.” You started, speaking coldly through your teeth, “I was stupid to ask you for shit, and you were stupider for agreeing to it.”

The silence that fell over you was thick enough to cut with a knife, the static tension in the air nearly painful. If you weren’t so upset, you may have considered how dramatic and mean you were being, you may have considered that you didn’t have to treat Eddie as if he was the problem; but you were too angry to care.

From behind you, Eddie huffed out a deep, disappointed sigh; you heard the toe of his shoe twist on the gravel as he put out the cigarette he’d clung to like a lifeline. Your posture grew even more taut, arms crossing more aggressively and jaw clenching so hard that you were grinding your teeth.

Eddie began to take slow steps towards you, walking around so that you were forced to face each other again; he hovered mere inches from you, ensuring that you could see his upset with total clarity. His gaze was perturbed and severe, mouth twisted into a frown, shoulders rigid with indignation. He silently held out your long forgotten book bag, barely giving you time to reach for it before he carelessly dropped it into your hand; your grip was virtually nonexistent, and the bag hit the ground with a sad thud.

It was so clear that Eddie wanted to say something, but he held back his words, a calculating and thoughtful look on his face. You stared rigidly at one another, your expression cold and cruel, his hurt and despondent, the both of you waiting for the other to act first.

Finally, Eddie shook his head smally as he looked down at the ground, walking away from you without another word or glance back.

.

.

Taglist (if you'd like to be added, pls let me know | @a-queen-blr @avalon-wolf @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson

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@em0220 @frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @kthomps914

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@steeldaisies @stormgrl19

[allywthsr]

THE VACATION | (l.norris)

part three to lando on raya

summary: Part three to Lando Norris on Raya! The vacation, meeting the family, and a big question in the end.

wordcount: 13k (what?)

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: smut! Luisa being a bad human

notes: last chapter! I‘m so thankful for everybody who read this series, I had so much fun writing it! And thank you for being patient with me, for the delay. Comment your thoughts🫶🏼

part one part two

”So will you come with me and my family on holiday?“

”Yes, I‘ll join you“, shit. Did you really just say that? You still had no idea what you would say to your family and friends. Just disappear and say nothing? Nah, you couldn’t do that.

”Really?“

Lando got excited and stopped walking, he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him, still keeping a distance between you and him, so he could look you into the eyes.

”Yeah, I think so.“

”You don’t sound too convinced.“

”No, I wanna come with you. I just don’t know what I’ll tell my family, you know?“

”Maybe I can meet them, to show them that I am not a random person.“

”Yeah maybe.“

He kissed your forehead and pulled you towards him into a hug. You placed your head on his chest and inhaled his scent while hugging him back.

”I‘m glad I met you, Y/N. I know we haven’t known each other for long and other people might say we’re stupid but I’m really happy I have you in my life now.“

”Didn’t know you were a sappy drunk.“

”I‘m not, s‘just all true.“

He rubbed his chin over your head and nuzzled closer to you.

”Maybe we should go back to the hotel? I don’t want people to see us so early, they can be pretty mean. And also I want to have a proper cuddle.“

You smiled and looked up, ”yeah, I’m also tired, these days have been tiring.“

”I know that I tire out the girls, tell me more“, Lando proudly smirked and laughed, clearly being sarcastic.

”I mean my work, but whatever floats your boat“, you lovingly slapped his chest and pulled on his hand a little, so you would actually start walking towards your hotel. And he did just that, with entwined hands you made your way back to the hotel. When you arrived, both of you jumped on the bed.

”It was a nice date, was it?“

”Yes Lan, thank you for inviting me, and the date.“

”It’s nothing, I’m just happy I found you.“

”Me too, you have no idea.“

”Should we get ready for bed? I bought plane tickets for London tomorrow afternoon, we still need to get to the airport in time and it’s already 12:28 am.“

”Lando, you don’t have to buy plane tickets for me, I’m perfectly fine buying them on my own. I don’t want you spending so much money on me.“

”Darling, it’s nothing, really. I didn’t want you to fly alone.“

You sighed and nuzzled in his chest where you mumbled a quiet ’thank you‘. You were grateful for him, but also spending so much money on you and you weren’t together or anything, was just crazy to you. But nonetheless, you both got ready for bed, and quickly you fell asleep in his arms.

You woke up, cuddled to Lando, and still a few minutes until your alarm rang. You enjoyed the last few moments in peace before the stressful day began. Lando snored slightly and you looked at him, he looked like an angel on earth, peaceful.

Before you could do anything, the alarm rang and Lando was startled. With a moan he turned around, shutting the alarm off, and turned around again to hug you tight from behind. You put your hand on his and squeezed it, not ready for the day of traveling, even if it was a short flight from Spa to London.

”Good morning.“

”Morning Lan“, you turned around in his embrace, putting one hand on his cheek and caressing it. He leaned forward and pecked your lips. You‘ve always loved slow mornings, but slow mornings with Lando already felt way better than any other morning you ever had in your life. Even if you couldn’t sleep in, Lando had calculated a few cuddle minutes in before you actually had to get up.

You ordered breakfast to your room, got ready and before you knew it you sat on the plane next to Lando. He wore a cap that he pulled in his face, just in case somebody recognized him. Your hands were linked together and when you were flying through the sky the armrests were put down, you needed to be close to him and he wasn’t feeling any different.

The flight was rather short and without any big turbulence, you spend the time chatting and laughing, cuddling and stealing light kisses from the other. You believed he was your soulmate, there’s no other option. You felt comfortable with him, you didn’t feel the need to be someone you weren’t, and all that after knowing him for only three days. Would other people call you a psycho? Maybe. Would you change a thing? No.

He was your person and you were sure.

But before you knew it, you had to separate. He wanted to meet up with his family and friends in the UK and you had to go back to work. You‘ve spent at least five minutes just hugging and exchanging kisses in the airport, you both weren’t ready to say goodbye yet. Eventually, Lando slowly pulled back from the hug and tugged a piece of hair behind your ear.

”Look, we‘ll talk every night over the phone, I‘ll facetime you. We‘ll text all the time and I’m making sure I’ll visit you at least one day. And it’s only five days, we‘ll manage. I can feel that you’re special, I won’t let go of you that easy.“

He left a kiss on your forehead.

”I know, but still. I‘ll miss you. And you need to send me a packing list so I can get the last few things for the trip. I don’t even know what kind of clothing I should bring, I‘ve never been on a yacht.“

He leaned forward and smirked, ”Lots and lots of bikinis, which barely hide anything.“

”You’re a pervert.“

”But you still like me.“

”I do.“

”Let’s go, okay? I‘ll come visit you in two days?“

You nodded your head and gave him one last tight hug before turning around and wheeling with your suitcase to the next taxi. While the driver loaded your stuff in the trunk, you looked at Lando, he still stood in the same spot and waited for you to drive off. He raised his hand and waved, which you returned without a doubt.

After getting in the taxi, you named the driver your address and he sped off.

————————————————————————

It’s been two days since you last saw Lando. He had visited you at your apartment and you two cooked dinner together, squeezing in one or two pleasurable cardio workouts in between and after.

If you know what I mean.

Right now you were waiting for Lando to pick you up for the airport. Almost ready you sat on the couch at five am, you couldn’t understand why he chose such an early start. When the doorbell rang, you got up and opened the door, being welcomed by the handsome face that belonged to Lando.

”Hiya handsome.“

”Hey babygirl.“

He greeted you with a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

”Ready to meet my family?“

”Kinda? I‘m nervous as fuck.“

”Don’t worry darling, they‘ll love you.“

”Whatever you say.“

You giggled into his chest and hugged him tight.

”By the way, my mom called yesterday and said that she finds you lovely.“

”Really?“

You hummed and thought of the awkward FaceTime call you shared with your parents. You wanted them to see Lando, obviously not being happy that you’re going on vacation with some random boy, but they couldn’t tell you no. So you arranged a little FaceTime call because seeing them in person wasn’t easy with your parents not living around the corner.

Your mum was smitten with Lando, the second she saw him, your dad knew him from watching F1, but he acted like a dad had to act when the daughter introduced a boy. With that little meet-up, your parents had a better feeling about you going on holiday with Lando, you had to promise to call at least once a day.

”Ready to go?“

”I just want to go pee and then we can go.“

”Alright, love.“

When you turned around, Lando gave you a slap on your right ass cheek, which you commented with a chuckle.

Lando loaded all of your stuff in the trunk of his car and drove to Heathrow, where the plane would take off to the Zadar Airport. Nervous was an understatement. What if his family doesn’t like you? Then you had to spend two whole weeks with them trapped on a yacht. He told you a little about his family, that Flo does showjumping, Cisca goes to Uni and Oliver was a CEO of a company. You were most excited about Mila and little Athena. Mila loved Lando, she was obsessed with him and you couldn’t wait to see Lando in full-on Uncle duty.

When you arrived at the airport, Lando parked the car in one of the car parks and got all the luggage out of the car. He insisted on taking the suitcases and his carry-on, you were barely allowed to carry your own little backpack for the plane. He was a true gentleman. You two arrived at the terminal where the others waited for you. From a distance, you could see the big crowd of family members, not only was the whole Norris family waiting, but also the boyfriends of Cisca and Flo and the two dogs, Uno and Mocha that belonged to Oliver and Savannah. In total you were thirteen people and two dogs, could that fit into a private plane? When it was time to greet everyone, Lando went and gave everyone a loving hug or a cool bro handshake, before introducing you to everyone.

”This is Y/N. The girl I told you, that would be joining us.“

”Hi, I‘m Y/N.“

You awkwardly claimed, but before you could say another word, Cisca, Lando’s mother, went and hugged you.

”Hello darling, I’m Cisca, nice to meet you, I‘ve heard so much about you.“

”Thank you for letting me join you on your family holiday.“

”Of course darling.“

She let you go and next were his siblings, his dad, and Savannah, all of them welcomed you with a warm hug. The boyfriends just gave you an awkward wave, and a’hello‘, which you returned.

”Let’s go, shall we?“, Lando said.

All of you agreed with him and he was already leading the way to the check-in, with your suitcase in his hand.

The check-in went smoothly and before you knew it you were seated in the plane, next to Lando. It would take you to Croatia, where you then would take off with a yacht to swim around the ocean. You‘ve never been in a private plane, so you were amazed by the luxury and soft cushions.

When you looked around the family members, they didn’t seem to be fazed about it, more like it was something normal. That was it, you needed to marry rich, so you could be as relaxed as them while sitting in a private plane.

The flight was calm, you chatted a lot with Cisca, both of them. It was a little confusing that his sister had the same name as his mother, but you found it cute how the mothers' name was kept in the family. Lando did tell you a few days ago, that they call his sister ’Cis‘ instead of her full name, that way it wouldn’t always be confusing.

After you arrived, you were the first to leave the private plane, Lando right behind you. You stepped out in the warm morning sun at 8:30 am, walking down the stairs and waiting for the rest to come down too. Two members of the aircraft crew started to unload the suitcases and whatever was shoved in there. After Mila and Athena were sat in their buggies, you all went into the airport to a spot where a guy was waiting for you.

”Are you Family Norris?“

A few ’yes‘ and hums were heard and the guy ushered you to follow him. He arranged a bus that would take you to the pier of Croatia where the yacht is waiting for you.

At the yacht, you were astonished at how big it was. After all, it had to fit thirteen people and it had five bedrooms. You didn’t want to know how much a week would cost, you bet a fortune. But you knew Lando and his family weren’t poor people and they could still live the life they were living even after a big holiday like this.

They all went over the little bridge that connected the yacht to the land. You followed and you smiled at Lando, when he reached for your hand, helping you walk over the wobbly bridge. He kept his hand in yours while all of you went and explored the yacht, starting with the top floor and slowly working the way down.

”I call dips on the bedroom with the best view!“, was screamed by a very childish Lando after he let go of your hand and sprinted towards all the doors of the lowest deck.

”I hope you know how childish your boyfriend is“, Savannah said after turning to you.

”Oh, uhm, we’re not together.“

Awkward. Very awkward.

”Really? You looked very much in love on the plane.“

She chuckled and you turned red in the face.

”Uhm, thanks, I guess?“, you laughed.

”No really, the way he looked at you and always had to touch you somehow, whether on your back, thigh, or how he stroked your ankles when you draped your legs over his lap. I’ve known Lando for some years now and I’ve never seen him so affectionate.“

You blushed harder than before, you hadn’t noticed all the things she mentioned but now that you thought of it, he really had a hand on you the whole time. And the way he did that in front of his family as well? It was something you weren’t used to.

”Don’t worry, Lando always needs a bit more time than others, but I’m sure you mean a lot to him.“

”He means a lot to me too.“

”I can see that.“

You were glad that Savannah was there, she treated you like you‘ve been with them for years.

”I‘m happy you’re here, Y/N. I think that we will have a lot of fun with you, you fit perfectly in our family.“

”I already feel so comfortable within your family, I can’t wait for the next week.“

She gave you a light squeeze and you followed Lando into a bedroom after he screamed your name.

”Y/N, you see that? It’s beautiful!“

He pointed to the window where you could see the ocean. It was big and under it was a shelf where Lando had put his carry-on.

He came closer to hug you, cheekily pressing a kiss on your neck.

”Lando, someone could come in.“

After all the door was wide open and you could still hear the rest of the family chatting not too far away.

”I don’t care, it’s not like I’m fucking you against the wall. Even though I want to.“

”Lando!“

You let out a quiet gasp, how dare he say that when his family was less than five meters away.

”What? It’s true. Do you know how hard it was not to touch you? You look absolutely smashing in your shorts and crop top. And I don’t even wanna think of you in a bikini. I need to do a little wrist workout before I see that, or otherwise, I will run around with a boner the whole day.“

”You’re insatiable.“

He only chuckled and kissed you on your forehead.

”I‘m sorry to disturb your peace but we want to order brunch.“

Lando and you turned around to look at Oliver.

”We’re coming.“

Oliver left the room and you looked at Lando.

”Fuck, I‘m a little hard.“

You bursted out laughing.

”Don’t laugh, what am I gonna do?“

Lando screamed quietly.

Go to the toilet and calm down or do other things to make it go down, I‘ll go to your family and say you needed to go to the toilet.“

”You sure you’re okay with being alone with my family?“

”Yes, I’m sure they won’t bite my head off.“

He laughed and went into the little bathroom that was connected to your bedroom, while you went upstairs to the main deck where his family was waiting.

”Where’s Lando?“, Flo asked.

”Uhm, he needed to go to the toilet, I‘m sure he‘ll be here soon.“

They all nodded and gave you a menu to choose your brunch from.

And not even after five minutes Lando joined you and sat down next to you, putting his hand on your thigh, squeezing it slightly. You looked at him and he just smirked at you, you knew he didn’t just wait in the bathroom.

You gave him your menu, after choosing the dish of your liking. He chose a chicken breast dish, after all, he was still a high-performance athlete and had to be in shape. The chef, who was booked for the day, came and took your order.

Lando’s dad spoke.

”You two have to tell us how you met!“

You looked at Lando with panic in your eyes. What should you say?

”Dad, I told you it wasn’t important.“

”I don’t see the harm.“

”We met over a dating app called Raya in Amsterdam.“

They all just nodded and Oliver looked at Lando with a smirk, he knew why his brother hit you up.

You quickly changed the topic.

”I wanted to say thank you again, for letting me come to your family holiday, it means so much. I don’t know how to repay you.“

”Y/N, stop it. We’re glad that Lando found someone again, we were scared he would end up alone. I‘m sure the next week will be fun.“

You liked Cisca already, she was very much a mother, especially now, when she put her hand on yours and gave it a little squeeze to prove her point.

The next twenty minutes were spent just talking to each other and getting to know them when the Chef and another cook came and brought the food you ordered. You looked at your meal, it looked absolutely delicious, and it tasted good too! Because you hadn’t really eaten anything yet, except a little pretzel that you shared with Lando on the plane, the food was gone before you knew it.

”What’s the plan for the week?“, Cis asked.

”I want to explore the city and maybe chill at a beach too“, Flo replied.

You nodded your head, agreeing with her.

”And I just wanna chill all day long“, Oliver said, looking at his wife, who also nodded.

”I‘d say, let’s just change into something more summer-like and lay down on the sunbeds, maybe we can go for a swim after“, Adam said.

The whole group just hummed and made their way to the bottom floor to the bedrooms.

”I‘m gonna call my parents and tell them that we arrived.“

Lando nodded and opened his suitcase.

”Can I choose your bikini?“

”Sure.“

Why shouldn’t he? You packed enough swimwear for the week, he would see all of them anyway.

While ringing your parents, Lando opened your suitcase and rummaged through your clothes, carefully trying to not mess it up too badly. But before he could find the bikinis, he found your undergarments. Like a little kid on Christmas, he picked up every panty and held it up in the air, inspecting them. You sat on the bed, talking to your parents, you tried to suppress your laughs, he looked like as if he saw panties for the first time. He felt the different materials and looked at the different colors. You tried to bring him back to his original task, but he didn’t listen.

”Yes mum, I already ate something. Can I call you later? We want to go swimming. Yes, I will be careful about the sharks, don’t worry. I‘ll only go in if it’s safe and I’ll always have Lando with me.“

While saying his name he perked up and looked at you.

”What? No! Mum, please. Don’t be embarrassing. No! Don’t put dad on the phon-, hey dad, yes I’m fine. Please, dad, you‘ll embarrass me, I know it. Yes, okay.“

Lando looked at you confused when you held your phone towards him.

”My dad wants to speak to you.“

”Hi Mr. Y/L/N. Thank you, I’m good, how are you?“

God, how embarrassing.

”Yes, I‘ll take care of her, trust me. Yes sir, I won’t be sleeping in the same bed as her, we have separate bedrooms in fact.“

What? What is he talking about?

”Thank you, bye.“

When he gave you your phone back, your dad hung up, lovely how he wanted to speak to you.

”What did he say?“

”Relax babe, it’s all good. He just wanted me to protect you.“

”What about the bedrooms?“

”Oh yeah, he told me that I’m not allowed to sleep in the same bed as you.“

”What?“

”Yeah, thank god he doesn’t know that I‘ve been inside of you multiple times already.“

The typical boy smirk appeared on his face and you threw a pillow in his face.

”Anyway, have you finally picked out my bikini?“

”Love, are you insane? I‘ve been too distracted by your panties. Who knew you had so many sexy dessous.“

You shook your head, put them into a drawer, before anyone could see them, and pulled out your bikinis.

”Choose.“

You threw all of them in Lando’s lap and in the meantime, you began to unpack the rest of your stuff.

You heard a few muffles and mumbles from Lando, about ’too much fabric‘ ’wrong color, who buys Ferrari red bikinis‘, and ’that‘ll make me hard in seconds‘. In the end, he chose a papaya-colored bikini, that you bought extra for this trip, you knew he would love it.

You went into the bathroom but kept the door open, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen everything of you already. Quickly you changed into the bikini, while Lando was changing into his swim trunks, and when you put your hair up, Lando came into the bathroom and hugged you from behind, you looked at each other through the mirror.

”You know, I‘m really happy you’re here. I knew my family would love you.“

”I‘m also happy I‘m here. Thank you for taking me with you.“

He only gave you a kiss on your shoulder and squeezed you tight. You heard a knock on the door when you turned around in his embrace and linked your hands behind his neck.

”Guys, we wanna go swimming, you coming?“

”We‘re coming dad.“

With that, you pressed a kiss on his lips and you both went upstairs, to where his family was waiting for you. You could hear his sisters and Savannah giggling when you appeared and your hands were linked together, at this point, it became a natural thing. Whenever you could, you would hold hands and be close to each other. You all went to the lowest platform and jumped into the ocean, at least some of you. Savannah stayed back to watch the kids and dogs, not wanting them to be on their own. You asked if you should keep her company, so she wouldn’t be alone, but she told you she wants to read a book anyway.

Lando and his siblings + their boyfriends all went into the water without a doubt. You could see they all have been on something like this before, not caring about the water and just jumping right in. You on the other hand went in more slowly, just as Lando’s parents did.

”Lando, can you hold me, if I drown?“

”Sure babe.“

You looked at him. What did he just say? In front of his family. He really didn’t care. And you liked it. You loved how carefree he could be and just blurt out pet names without being ashamed in front of his family. What a walking green flag.

You went in the water and Lando immediately came to you, offering you somewhere to hold onto. With a smile, you latched onto his side and enjoyed the coldish water against your hot skin. Since the water was rather clear, you could see your surroundings and what was swimming in the water with you. You didn’t need to encounter a shark up close. When you got used to the water, you let go of Lando, who made sure you were comfortable about a hundred times. Adam and Cisca went for a swim around the boat and the rest of the group was still chilling where you jumped in. Quickly little games started, who can hold their breath the longest under the water, who can swim the fastest, who can do the coolest trick and the list goes on and on. After a while you all were exhausted and hopped onto the yacht again, sitting down on the lounge while waiting for the sun and the warm breeze to dry you off. Together you went upstairs to get a drink and to get out of the sun, Adam and Cisca were waiting for you with cocktails.

A cocktail before 1:00 pm? That’s what you call vacation.

You took your favorite drink and sat down next to Lando, who placed his hand on your thigh, stroking the warm skin slowly.

”Lando, Y/N! I want to take a picture of you, smile please.“

Lando’s mum being the mum she is, taking pictures of their kids.

You leaned into Lando and placed your hand onto his‘, smiling brightly as Cisca took a picture of you two.

”Adorable you two!“

”Can you send me the pic mum? I‘ll send it to Y/N.“

”Sure, but you can add her to the vacation group chat, that way we all have her number, if that’s okay for you, love.“

You nodded and smiled.

Lando grabbed his phone from the table and you could see him add you to the chat, seconds later the photo got sent into it.

Both of you went back to the lounge, where you wanted to tan a little, first you both laid there, enjoying the silence, but soon you started talking about random things. You liked how you could talk to Lando about normal stuff, which cheese is better or what milk you needed to try, it made things feel very normal.

You spend several hours talking and getting to know the family and Lando, after all, it has only been a week and a half since you met. But before you knew it, it was time for dinner. The chef handed out a menu card again and you began to read through the dishes.

”Do you know what you are choosing, love?“, Lando whispered.

You shook your head. You were a picky eater, being scared to come across as rude, you didn’t want to mix up the dishes and change the sides but none of the listet items were your favorites.

”I‘m picky with food, I have no idea if I even like any of this.“

Lando stared at you. Shit, did you do something wrong? You knew that this was a no-go, being picky over this clearly expensive menu that everybody seemed to like. This was going to be the moment they all hated you.

”You’re literally perfect.“

You could barely hear him say it, it was almost as if he said it to himself. You turned your head to Lando and looked at him.

”What?“

”I‘m going to marry you, I found my picky eater.“

Now you didn’t understand a thing.

”I‘m a picky eater too! I hate all of these. I‘m going to order some chips and chicken. My parents requested it specifically for me, but you can have it too. I always feel like a little kid, but now I have you, and I’ll never feel that way again.“

You felt relieved, he didn’t hate you, nor did you have to pack your things and go. He was just like you, he was truly your soulmate.

”I would like some chicken and chips.“

His eyes started to sparkle and he pressed a quick kiss on your lips. You immediately blushed, affection wasn’t something you thought he would do in front of his family, but he truly didn’t care.

Dinner was delicious and nobody questioned you, but now it was late and time for bed. All of you were exhausted, after all, you had to get up early and you‘ve been on your feet all day. So after saying goodnight to everyone, Lando and you went into your bedroom and changed into your sleepwear. Laying down on the bed was the best feeling you felt that day. Lando cuddled close to you, kissed your nose, and then kissed you on your mouth.

”Goodnight love.“

”Night Lan.“

Before you could do anything else, both of you fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up because Lando tickled you on your sides.

”No Lando! Stop it, I‘m going to kick you if you don’t stop.“

You tried to get out in between giggles and screams. But he didn’t listen, instead, he tickled you harder and pinned you on the mattress. Out of reflex, you started kicking around with your feet and after a few seconds, Lando fell to the side with a groan, holding his private area. Oops. It wasn’t that you wanted to hurt him, but at least he stopped tickling you now. You sat up and looked at him.

”Babe, oh my god, I‘m so sorry!“

”I don’t think that I can have kids anymore.“

He was whispering as if he was on his deathbed.

”Don’t be a drama queen. Do I need to kiss it better?“

His eyes lit up, ”Yes please.“

You shook your head while giggling and bent down, to press a kiss on his boxer-covered dick.

”I don’t think it worked, you need to do it without the clothing.“

”In your dreams Norris. I‘m not giving you a blowjob if your family is next door.“

”C’mon Y/N, don’t be a party pooper.“

”Lando, No.“

”Y/N, yes!“

”Lando, I‘m no-“

He leaned over you and kissed you passionately. Tongues were fighting, salvia was exchanged and filthy sounds were created. God this guy could make you wet in seconds. Speaking of wet, his hand made its way into your panty. He gently wiped his index finger through your folds, while you whimpered at the sensation. His kisses went to your neck and you moaned quietly.

”Fuck baby, you’re so wet. Is that all for me?“

You‘ve never nodded your head as fast as at this question. Lando sucked a little on your neck, trying not to create a purple mark. With slow movements, he pushed his index and middle finger into your sweet cunt.

”Lando I‘-“

”No baby, let me make you feel good.“

”Not with your fami-“

He shushed you and kissed you again. Swiping his tongue over your lower lip to ask for entrance. With a little fight, he won the battle and you thought about giving in. How could you not, with his fingers buried deep inside of you, pleasuring you with easy moves. His thumb moved over your clit and your body jolted upwards into his chest. You moaned quietly and bit your lip. How long could you keep quiet when he was making you feel so good? He flickered your clit continuously until he noticed how your walls contracted around his fingers, which were still pumping in and out, and your breathing got heavier.

”Are you close babygirl?“

You could only nod and before you could say anything else, you put your hand over your mouth to try and suppress your moans as Lando made you finish. When you came back down, a smiling Lando looked into your eyes and pressed a kiss on your forehead. He took out his fingers of your pussy and looked at the glistening juices before licking them off. Fuck, he was attractive.

”Good morning by the way.“

He snuggled closer to you and laid his head on your chest. You could feel his hard-on on your legs, what now? He didn’t make any signs that he wanted you to do anything, but you also couldn’t leave him like this.

”Lando, let me help you.“

”It’s okay baby.“

”No!“

You nudged him until he gave in, rolling on his back and you could already see the bulge that stood in his boxers.

”I see someone is excited.“

”How could I not?“

You chuckled and sat directly on his crotch with your heat.

”You’re killing me, babe.“

You leaned down and kissed him, circling your hips to create friction for him. With one last kiss on his nose, you sat up and went with your hand in his boxers, cupping his erection. He let out a surprised moan and you started moving your hand up and down, after spitting on them, to moisturize them. After a few pumps, you let your thumb brush over his head and he almost lost it. He was a mess underneath you, moving, moaning, and whispering your name.

”Cum for me, pretty boy.“

With a moan, that you tried to quieten with your hand, he came all over your other hand and in his boxers.

”Fuck baby, you have magic hands.“

That made you laugh while you got up and pulled out a handkerchief from your purse and cleaned your hand.

”You should change into some new boxers if you ask me.“

You said after laying down again.

”I will.“

He sat up and stretched his arms above his head. Quickly he slipped into a fresh boxershort and went into the bathroom to get a wet piece of toilet paper. He pulled your panty to the side and gently wiped your juices off, that were smeared around your pussy. The cold material felt arousing on your hot vagina and you couldn’t believe this made you excited again.

He jumped into the bed and laid his head on your chest again. Shortly after you heard a small knock on your door and Lando got up and unlocked the door. He must‘ve locked it when you went to bed yesterday, you were glad he did. Otherwise, someone could’ve caught you earlier.

Lando opened the door and there stood little Mila with a stuffie in one hand and a pacifier in the other.

”What are you doing here Sunshine?“

Lando went into full uncle mode and it was the sweetest thing ever. The day before he already was the best uncle, swimming with Mila in his arms through the water and cuddling with her on the sun lounge.

”Lan.“

”That’s me, sweets.“

He crouched down and opened his arm, which Mila ran into. Same girl. Who wouldn’t?

”You want to stay with me and Y/N?“

Mila nodded and he carried her over to the bed. Thank god she had such a good timing, a few minutes earlier and you two would have had a problem. Lando laid down with her, she crawled in between you two and put her pacifier in her mouth while squeezing her stuffie bunny closer to her. You turned to lay on your side while raising your hand to tickle her belly slightly. Giggles erupted and you were sure they could be heard through the whole yacht.

”Is that funny Mila?“

You let go of her and she touched Lando’s beard that he grew.

”Does that feel weird?“

She babbled something you both didn’t understand, but Lando played along and he babbled back. God was he the cutest with kids. Mila was a clingy girl, you noticed after she threw herself at you and clung to your neck for the next twenty minutes. When Oliver came into your room he took her off you and went upstairs with her, you could finally breathe again. It wasn’t like you were scared of her, but she was still a new baby to you and you were scared to upset her somehow.

”You were great with her, you know.“

”Thank you, Lan.“

You both got dressed and headed upstairs as well, where a big breakfast table waited for you with almost all family members sitting around. Within the next few minutes, Flo, Cis, and their boyfriends arrived and you could start with breakfast. You had a lot to choose from, but you still got your favorite breakfast while having an amazing view over the ocean.

”You know Y/N, you’re great company.“

Savannah suddenly said.

”Oh uhm, thank you! I‘ve been enjoying spending time with you guys as well. It’s so peaceful.“

”No really, you’re just you, and you’re not on your phone the whole time, as other girlfriends of Lando have been.“

”Sav!“, Lando stopped her from talking more about his past relationships.

”Lando, it’s true! Remember Luisa? She was dying to get that perfect insta pic the whole time, it was annoying after just one day.“

She could see you were getting uncomfortable. You didn’t know this Luisa, so you didn’t want to say anything bad about her.

”Oh I’m sorry, it’s probably not the best topic to talk about.“

”No don’t worry, but it’s great to know that you don’t find me annoying.“

”Are you kidding? I don’t think that many people would’ve cuddled with Mila after just getting to know her.“

You blushed and looked at Lando, who stared at you. That made you blush even more.

”Anyway, we need to walk the dogs, is there anything you need from the mainland?“

”Oliver, can Y/N and I walk the dogs? I want to show her the city a little.“

”Sure! As long as you bring some sunscreen, we’ve forgotten to pack some.“

Lando and you nodded and got up to get ready. It was only 11:00 am but it was boiling hot already, you hopped into your comfy summer outfit, and Lando and you made your way to where Oliver was waiting with the dogs who were already on the leash. Lando grabbed Uno’s and you were handed Mochas, the little Cockapoo smiled up at you, and his tail was waggled from one side to the other. Lando and you both walked down the ramp that would take you to the land and the dogs began to sniff everything. Lando waved his fingers with yours and you two enjoyed the little stroll through the city. He‘s been here several times, so he showed you a little around, the town was truly beautiful. He even pulled out his phone and took a few pictures of you and the dogs, to document you struggling while holding two hyperactive dogs on their leashes. In between you hopped in a shop to get the sunscreen Oliver asked for and a few little somethings, just as a little stuffed fox for Mila, as she’s addicted to her stuffies.

You two returned to the yacht after the dogs did their business, still holding hands and as soon as you settled on the lounger, Lando was clinging to you. His head placed on your belly and his arms wrapped around your torso, your hands were combing through his curls and you two were enjoying the peace and the sound of the waves clashing against the boat, as you were sailing through the Adriatic Sea.

All you did that day was swim in the sea, tanning on the boat, play with Mila, and cuddling with Lando. In between you had lunch and dinner, drinks, and conversation with his whole Family.

When it was time for bed, you got ready, doing your skincare in the bathroom while Lando was chilling on the bed, waiting for you. He was talking to Max Fewtrell over the phone, you couldn’t really understand what he was saying but he was laughing a lot. While applying the last cream you were listening in, it wasn’t like you were eavesdropping, he was talking really loudly and it was nearly impossible to not listen to what he was saying.

”I‘m excited Maximilian.“

”No, you know I have her with me here.“

”She matters more to me, otherwise I wouldn’t have taken her with me on vacation.“

”Can you please stop? I won’t need her here.“

”I don’t even like her anymore.“

”I don’t care that she‘s a friend of your girlfriends mate.“

”Anyway, I’ll see you without anyone tomorrow.“

After listening to that, you came back into the bedroom to see him throwing his phone on the duvet next to him and he was rubbing his face with his hands.

”What was that about Lan?“

”Oh it’s nothing, Max will join us the day after tomorrow.“

”Oh fun! But does he fit on here? We do not have any more bedrooms.“

”My parents are leaving with the kids and the dogs, he can sleep in their bedroom.“

”What? Why are they leaving? I like their company. But you sounded agitated, is really everything alright?“

”They want us to have a little party as well, Dad has stuff to do in England anyway. And we just had a little fight, don’t worry babe. But come here, I wanna cuddle.“

With a smile, you threw yourself next to him and he immediately attached himself to you.

”You’re clingy, but I love it.“

He chuckled and enjoyed the head scratches he got. Quickly after that, you both fell asleep.

The next morning started with an excited Lando, he was up early and shaking you awake. Why would he do that?

”Y/N! Come on, wake up! We‘re going to ride jet skis. The guy who’s going to bring them will arrive in a second.“

He was a little child, you were sure. You didn’t move, so Lando positioned himself on top of you and started to plant kisses on your face, wherever he could reach, he would kiss. Your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, your chin, and ending with a big smooch on your lips.

”Are you awake now? Come on Y/N!“

”Lando, we don’t need to be there when they arrive, I‘m sure someone from your family is waiting.“

”Oliver is waiting with the other boys.“

”See, you can also go if you want, I’ll come soon, but give me a second to wake up.“

”Are you sure?“

”Of course! Go! I‘ll join soon, let me get ready.“

With a little skip in his step, Lando went upstairs and you stretched your arms, slowly waking up fully and getting ready. You met Cisca in the hallway, she was lovely.

”How are you, my dear?“

”I‘m good, Lando is excited for the jetskis, so I got woken up by a bouncing Lando. How did you sleep?“

You two chuckled.

”Sometimes he‘s like that, but I slept good, thank you. I hope to see you around more after the vacation.“

”I‘m sure, but I heard you’re leaving today?“

”Yes, Adam has some things to do in England and we want you kids to have a party vacation as well, we’re taking the small kids and the dogs home with us.“

”I enjoyed staying with you, thank you for welcoming me to your family.“

”Darling, we loved having you, Lando, and you really are soulmates, the way he behaves around you, I’ve never seen him like that. Normally he tries to act all cool and grown up in front of girls, but with you, he was himself, playing with Mila, screaming because Oliver pushed him in the water, he only does it when he feels at home. I‘m really happy he found someone where he can be his true self. And I know that you only know each other for a rather short period of time, but I hope he‘ll keep you around. You’re a good girl.“

With a red head, you hugged Cisca tight, she was truly the perfect mother. Lando told you a lot about his family and always highlighted the relationship he had with his mother.

”Anyway, let’s get going, I want to see their faces when they get on the jetskis.“

Both of you made their way upstairs to see Lando and the others saying their goodbyes to the renting guy, as soon as Lando saw you, his eyes lit up and he stretched out his hand towards you. You took it and the shirtless Lando pulled you in a tight hug, where he placed his head on top of yours, swaying side to side. Your hands slightly scratched his back, which you learned, he loved.

”Are you gonna join me for a ride?“

”Only if you drive safely, you promised my parents to keep me alive.“

”Driving is my job, don’t worry baby.“

”But not on water!“

”Don’t be scared, it’s going to be fun.“

He pressed a kiss on top of your head and you both pulled a lifesaving vest over your swimwear, the rest copying you both. Lando was a bit crazy and rented four jet skis, so everyone could go for a ride at the same time.

Lando sat down on one and held out his hand, for you to take and join him on the jet ski. You placed your bum behind him and crossed your fingers in front of his abs, which you caressed with your thumbs, and pressed your head in his back for support.

”You’re not gonna die Y/N.“

For that comment, you slightly tickled Lando, and he turned the machine on.

”Ready?“

”I think so.“

And he sped off with what felt like a hundred miles per hour. The only thing that could be heard was the splashing from the water and your screaming, after a few turns and a heart attack, Lando stopped the vehicle.

”You having fun back there?“

”Mostly.“

”You wanna ride it?“

”No?“

”Come on!“

Before you could tell him no one more time, he stood up and you clasped his belly, you were scared he was going to fall in the water.

”Slide forward, and I‘ll hold you, you can’t fall in the water and whenever you panic, I‘m there to control it.“

”You promise?“

”I do.“

You slid forward and waited for Lando to settle behind you after you let go of him. He touched your sides and caressed them, just like you did on his abs, he was a sweetheart.

”This handle is to accelerate, and if you want to brake, you have to release it, or turn to the side. Got it?“

You nodded and slowly pushed the accelerator forward. The jet ski moved and you got the grove after a few minutes. Before you could get comfortable, Cisca was hollering for you to get back to the boat, it was time for brunch. And since you went out for brunch today, to eat nicely before Adam and Cisca left, you went and changed into something other than a bikini.

The town was filled with people and Lando and you kept a safe distance, after a few Instagram stories it was known that Lando Norris was in town and a lot of people were circling the docks to catch a glimpse of him. So you walked next to his sisters to make it seem like you were their friend, not the best solution, but you wanted the situationship to be something that only certain people knew of.

When you found the perfect restaurant, you all ordered your favorite dish and talked while waiting for the waiters to bring it.

Lando sat next to you and under the table he had his hand on your thigh, stroking the delicate skin slightly. You’re not gonna lie, it made you a bit excited, but the fact that you were sitting with his family, cooled you down.

The food came and it was absolutely delicious, all of you regretted not coming earlier to this place, and only discovered it on Lando’s parents' last day. After a sweet stroll through the small streets, it was time to return to the boat, Adam and Cisca had to pack the rest of their belongings and drive to the airport. And that’s what they did, they packed their stuff and said goodbye. You were sad when Adam and Cisca hugged you, you really enjoyed getting to know them.

”Y/N, you have to promise to visit us soon, you’re a lovely girl, if Lando doesn’t keep you, he‘s an idiot.“

”Thank you Cisca, I will.“

With one arm around your waist, Lando and the rest of you waved until the taxi drove off.

”Let’s get to partying!“, an exciting Oliver screamed.

The rest of the day was spent drinking, swimming, and cuddling with Lando. In the evening you went back to the restaurant you found this morning, to eat dinner.

When everyone was in their bedrooms, Lando and you sneaked upstairs to the top deck, where a big lounge area was built. Lando sat down and you straddled his lap, bringing your arms behind his neck, his hands settled on your hips, slowly caressing them.

”I‘m really happy you came with us here, I told you everyone will love you.“

”You did.“

”I think I deserve a kiss for that.“

”For you being right?“

”Yes!“

”You think so?“

”Obviously.“

With a smirk, you slowly bend down, until your lips almost touched.

”I don’t think so.“

And with that you sat back up again, giggling.

”You little menace.“

He started to tickle you and with a loud laugh, you jumped off of his lap and landed next to him. He tried to kiss you after laying himself on top of him, but you could only laugh because he kept tickling you.

”Missy, don’t deny kisses from your.. uhm.. from me!“

You noticed his little slip-up and wondered what he wanted to say, was it boyfriend or something else? You decided not to say anything about it, he was clearly embarrassed, judging by his red cheeks.

”I‘ll kiss you, but only if you stop tickling me.“

”Deal.“

And with that, he leaned down and pressed his lips on yours several times, with each kiss it got filthier, the sounds got louder and the atmosphere got sexier. Slowly but surely, Lando pulled on your top, signaling you to remove it.

”Lando, no! Not up here, everyone can hear and see us.“

With a swift move his hand was in your pants, his pointer finger dipped between your pussy lips.

”Are you sure it’s not turning you on? You’re pretty wet darling.“

Dammit. This guy.

”But only if you keep quiet and we hurry.“

”Will do, Boss.“

With a slap to his shoulder, both of you sat up and removed your shirts and pants, only in underwear you sat on the lounger and kissed again, it was filthy, it sounded like you were in some porn.

You pushed Lando down onto the lounger and sat with your heat on his dick, moving slightly to grind on him.

”If you do that, I‘ll cum in my pants.“

”We wouldn’t want that, would we?“

”Missy, behave.“

”I am!“

Before you could say anything else, Lando switched positions, now he was on top of you. And he didn’t hold back, he inserted two fingers in you, pumping them in and out, you arched your back, the sensation felt way too good.

”Are you ready? I‘m way too horny right now.“

”Yes, please Lando.“

”You’re begging now?“

”Yes.“

”I can’t deny you like that, huh?“

You only shook your head and looked at him with puppy eyes.

You removed your underwear and he removed his. His dick was big and hard, just how you liked it, you gave it a few pumps before leading it to your entrance. Lando pushed it in you and you tried not to moan too loudly. With some drags of his hips, that met yours, you were almost there, the risk of getting caught made you way more excited than you thought it would, and Lando wasn’t any different, you could feel him twitching inside of you. The pleasure making you feel lightheaded. Every few seconds, Lando pressed little kisses on your lips, trying to be closer to you than he already was.

”Baby, I‘m cumming.“

And with that, Lando shot his white liquid inside of you, which pushed you over the edge as well and both of you were a panting moaning mess. This will probably never get old, the pleasure Lando could provide you with was amazing. You were enjoying the peace while still being entangled within each other.

”Should we get dressed and go into our bedroom?“

”I think so, it’s slowly uncomfortable laying butt naked.“

”But I like your butt“, and he smacked your ass with his hand.

You chuckled and got up, pulling your clothes back on to cover up, with quiet steps, you both went down the staircases leading to the bedrooms. When you laid on the bed, Lando whispered something in your ear, that had you clenching your thighs all over again.

”I haven’t fucked you against the windows yet.“

The next day came quickly. All you wanted was to stay in bed but Lando had other plans, Max was to arrive at 8:30 am so he wanted to get up. You got that, but staying in bed with him sounded better and you didn’t want to sound rude and stay in bed, so you got up with him. You put on a bikini and threw a summer dress over it, so you didn’t walk around in just a bikini all day. Lando didn’t want you to put on make-up, but it was way too warm for it anyway, so you didn’t put any on. You wanted to give your skin a break from the products you tortured it every day in your normal life.

Lando and you waited on the lounger and enjoyed the already warm sun. Both were cuddling the other and sharing light kisses every now and then. You already missed Cisca, Adam, the kids, and the dogs but you were ready for some more party-like vacation, you also couldn’t wait to meet Max. Lando has told you a lot about him when he came to your flat and you two cooked together. After waiting for five minutes, you heard a suitcase roll on the concrete, Lando and you got up to welcome Max when Lando stopped in his walking and froze.

”Lan, what is it?“

He was blocking your view so you couldn’t see what was happening.

”What are you doing here?“

You pushed Lando a little to the side so you could see who he was talking to. Two tall, brown-haired women stood next to Max, who were these women?

”Lando I told you she was visiting us and we couldn’t leave her home.“

”And I told you, that I didn’t want to see her. I told you to come alone.“

”Mate, come on, you can’t say that. We planned that Pietra could come and I’m sorry but Luisa just joined.“

Oh, this was the ex Lando wasn’t comfortable to talk about. You immediately felt self-conscious, she was gorgeous, she had long legs and she was skinny. As if you had taken her out of a magazine and placed her here. You could see that she was eyeing you up and down, clearly annoyed that another woman was standing next to Lando.

”Max, can we talk in private please?“

With that Lando and Max went inside the yacht and you were left alone with the two girls.

”So you’re the new sidekick from Lando?“

”Excuse me?“

”You know, the new fuck-friend.“

”I‘m sorry, who are you again?“

”I‘m Luisa. His ex.“

”I don’t think you have any right to judge him.“

”Darling, you look so young and inexperienced, do you think that is something Lando wants?“

”I have a reasonable age, thank you. And I don’t think it’s any of your business.“

Suddenly you felt very small, you wanted to disappear and go home, she made this place feel like hell.

”You know, when Lando was with me, he always told me how he loved to have someone as skinny and tall as I am, you look like you enjoyed the food a bit too much on here, I know what the Norris’ are like on their holiday, I‘ve been with them twice, they go all out but trust me, a salad next time won’t hurt. And you’re not wearing any makeup? Lando hated it when I didn’t do that.“

The tears were prickling in your eyes.

”Lando hasn’t said anything, and as long as he’s happy, I‘m happy too. I don’t know what you want to achieve here but you don’t need to talk so badly about me.“

”Because he‘s a gentleman and wouldn’t comment on your weight and ugliness.“

”Lu, that’s enough“, the other woman told Luisa.

”P, she should know what he‘s like, no?“

”He‘s wonderful to me.“

”For now, he broke up with me because I was too boring for him, his words.“

You shook your head, not believing her. She was the topic two days ago during dinner, later on in bed, you asked Lando why they broke up, and he told you that she was a bit unfaithful to him and she didn’t want the same things as he did. He wanted to slowly settle down, but she was all over the clubs and flirting with other guys.

He didn’t seem like he was lying to you, but she was.

”Look Luisa, respectfully, I don’t want to continue this conversation.“

You turned around and went into the yacht, while walking down the stairs you heard Lando and Max talking.

”Look, this is gonna complicate things, I like Y/N, and I don’t know why Luisa should be here. She‘ll only do damage.“

”Let’s wait and see how things develop, don’t be a pussy. Let’s have a good time and you won’t notice her.“

”Fine, but one strike and she‘s out.“

You heard that they started walking to the stairs and you panicked, what should you do? If you stay on the stairs and walk to the bedroom as you planned, it‘ll look like you eavesdropped on their conversation, but if you turn around and go back to Luisa and Pietra, it‘ll be even worse. Before you could do anything, you saw Lando and Max appear in front of you.

”Oh hi, I‘m Y/N, you must be Max, I‘ve heard so much about you!“

Great, act like it was planned that you wanted to see them.

”Hey, I‘m Max, nice to meet you.“

You stepped the last steps down the stairs and hugged Max, rubbing his back quickly. When he pulled away you looked at Lando.

”Are you okay? Are the girls nice to you?“

What were you going to do? Act like all was well or tell the truth, in the end, you didn’t want to ruin the day, maybe it was just starting difficulties, so you went with option one.

”Yes, I am, they‘re nice, I.. uhm wanted to go and charge my phone, I need to call my parents anyway.“

”Are you sure? I plucked your phone in last night, it should be fully charged.“

Dammit Lando.

”Well, yeah… I still need to call my parents, so you start without me, the others aren’t awake yet anyway.“

You quickly kissed his cheek, smiled at Max, and went into the bedroom, where you sat down with a sigh, you hoped Lando believed your little story.

How could you survive the rest of the week with this monster upstairs? You didn’t want to hide your affection towards Lando just because she could say something, you didn’t want to stay in the room the whole time just so she couldn’t eye you. Lando did say, after one strike, she was out, but Lando was probably the nicest person you met, would he actually kick her out? The friend of his best friend's girlfriend?

But what if what she said was actually true? Should you maybe skip the chips and eat the salad she told you about, maybe you should work out again, you haven’t done that in the last week. And not wearing any makeup? Lando did tell you to skip it and enjoy the sun on your bare face but what if he just said that, so you would get a better tan? Before you knew it, a tear trickled down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away. You didn’t want her to ruin your vacation, but Lando was with her for a year, her character couldn’t be so ugly if he held it out for so long.

With one last deep breath, you got up and went upstairs to see where the others were, Cis and her boyfriend joined them and you looked for Lando but couldn’t find him, so you sat down next to Cis and greeted her. After a second glance around the group, you saw that Luisa was also missing. Mh, that didn’t seem to be a good thing.

So you turned to Cis and asked: ”Have you seen Lando?“

”Oh, he went to talk with Luisa.“

What?

”Thank you.“

Now what? You obviously wanted to go look for him and see what she was doing, you trusted Lando but you did not trust her, especially after all the things she said to you just thirty minutes ago. You had to go and find them, so you got up and walked to the other side of the boat where you saw them from a distance and stopped walking so they didn’t see you but you could hear them.

She was touching his arm and he was clearly uncomfortable.

”Please, don’t make this trip a living hell.“

”Lando, I know you still like me, otherwise you wouldn’t have texted me last week.“

Last week? That was when you had met and he asked you on this trip, was he saying all these sweet things to you just so he could have some fun with you?

”Luisa, I didn’t mean any of the words I wrote, I was drunk and..“

”Drunk words, sober thoughts Lando. Do I need to remind you what you wrote?“

”No!“

”Are you sure? Because I still think of you sometimes too.“

Her posture shifted and now she also had her other hand on his chest, getting closer to him.

”You can’t tell Y/N! I truly like her, you‘ll only ruin it, I know.“

”Me telling her? Lando, she‘s not in your league, you‘ll drop her sooner or later.“

”No, I like her the way she is.“

”You’re only fooling yourself.“

Why is he not telling her to stop touching him? What if it was true and he was actually still thinking about her, while he was with you, even if he told you she means nothing to him anymore. The more seconds that passed, the closer she got to his face and before you saw anything that you didn’t want to see, you turned away and ran off. When reaching the others you slowed down, to not seem like you were crazy.

”Did you find Lando, Y/N?“

You only shook your head and smiled at Cis, while sitting down next to her again. You didn’t even want to know what happened back there when you left, did they kiss? You hoped not.

The rest of the group was chatting and laughing, while you were gone, Savannah, Oliver, Flo and her boyfriend joined the rest and you greeted them with a small ’good morning‘, but you weren’t really in the mood to talk. You were slowly doubting this whole thing, what if Luisa was right and Lando only wanted some fun and did not get settled, you didn’t want to get married tomorrow but maybe get in a relationship sometime soon. Was it the right decision to go on a holiday with a stranger and his family?

Every now and then Cis nudged you a little and asked what was wrong but you reassured her that you were tired, she didn’t need to know your doubts.

After a while Lando and Luisa returned, Lando was looking rather pissed and Luisa had a smug smile on her face. You definitely did not want to know what happened, judging from her face she got what she wanted. Lando threw himself on the couch opposite of you, and then patted his legs while looking at you, indicating that he wanted you to come and sit on his lap.

You shook your head and looked at the ocean again, you didn’t want to give Luisa something that she could ruin for you again.

Lando gave you a questioning look and nodded towards his lap again, desperate for you to sit there.

”Y/N, go and sit on Lando’s lap, I can’t stand to see him like that.“

You knew Max meant it as a joke, but it only made you feel smaller, now Luisa was looking at you with disgust and a grin on her face.

”I need to go to the toilet.“

With the lame excuse, you went into the lowest deck and sat on your shared bed, with a sigh you grabbed your phone and started to text your best friend about the doubts you were having, but Lando came into the room before you could finish your text.

”What’s wrong?“

”Nothing.“

”You can tell that to my sister, but not to me, seriously Y/N, what is your problem? Why are you acting so weird in front of my friends?“

”Oh you mean your ex-girlfriend?“

”I didn’t want her to be here.“

”I know.“

”So what is your problem?“

”I don’t feel comfortable with her around.“

”Me neither, but what am I supposed to do?“

”I don’t know, stay with me? You left me alone with her and Pietra while you talked to Max, you left with HER to talk somewhere where no one would see you, while I was clearly upset sitting here.“

”You said you were fine!“

Lando was getting frustrated.

”When a woman tells you, she is fine, she probably isn’t fine, that’s something you should know with two sisters.“

”Y/N, don’t cause a scene now, you’re being ridiculous.“

”If that is what you think I am, then I think it’s time for me to go home.“

”Because of me not checking on you, when I asked you two times if you were fine?“

”It’s not just that, I can’t live with that monster upstairs, she made me almost cry, Lando.“

”She‘s not that cruel.“

”She is, she told me how I am just a quick fuck for you, how fat and ugly I am, that I needed to start eating salads instead of my normal dinner.“

Lando was stunned, he never expected her to say these things, especially because they weren’t true, he thought you were the prettiest person on the planet.

”Did she kiss you?“

”What?“

”Did she ki-“

”No!“

”But she was leaning in towards you, I saw it!“

”How?“

”When you were missing from the group I looked for you, I found you two very touchy talking on the other side of the boat. She was leaning to kiss you and before I could see something I didn’t wanna see, I ran off.“

”She tried, yeah, but I pushed her off as soon as I felt her lips on mine.“

”So she did kiss you.“

”What’s your point of this? Showing me how bad I am?“

”No! I want you to be honest with me.“

”Why? You are not my girlfriend yet, calm down, it’s not like I made out with her. I told you I pushed her away as soon as I felt it. What is your problem?“

”I don’t have a problem with you, but with her. We’re not together and she is treating me like I’m the reason you guys broke up. I can’t do that.“

”Don’t listen to her then.“

”Sure, if someone tells you how bad you’re at driving and how you‘ll never win, you don’t listen.“

”I listen, that only makes me work harder, and that people like that have no idea.“

”Maybe that’s how you react, but not me Lando, I’m fragile, and I listen to this shit, and it hurts me.“

”But she’s this stupid girl that means nothing to me, she should mean nothing to you. Isn’t it important what we feel? I feel a lot for you, I love how you look, I love who you are, she’s just bullshitting.“

”She did mean a lot to you at some point in your life, she knows you better than me, there’s no denying it. You were together with her for a year, and you knew her before that. We’ve only knowing each other for a week.“

”Maybe, but now she means nothing to me anymore, you mean a lot to me, you, not her. I don’t care how long I’ve known you.“

”But I can’t live with her for the rest of the week, she‘s this.. this mean girl who tries to ruin what we have, and to know she already tried to kiss you, I just can’t do it, Lando.“

”I can’t tell her to leave, Max will be pissed because Pietra will be pissed and I can’t do it.“

”We’re going around in circles.“

”Just get over it, ignore her and that’s it.“

”You… you’re telling me to get over it?“

”Yes! Ignore her and we have a nice week.“

”And what about the text about still thinking of her, you sent last week?“

Lando was clearly stunned as he didn’t reply.

”I heard that, Lando, you didn’t deny it. You sent her a text, telling her how much you missed her while telling me the same shit, while we were already fucking?“

”No, it’s not like that, I uhm…“

”You see? You have nothing to say, just own it, Lando, tell me you texted her.“

”I did, but only because I was super drunk and Max was going on about how we were made for each other, which is bullshit. He talked me into believing she was a better person than she is.“

”You know Lando, maybe this was too fast, maybe we thought we had a connection that actually wasn’t there. We imagined this world where we could be something, but I just think we’re not right for the other. And you being drunk does not excuse you for texting her, own it, if you feel nothing for me, you should’ve told me earlier, you should’ve told me before I went with you and your family on this stupid trip.“

You stood up, now facing Lando and trying to hold back your tears that were threatening to spill. Before you could move away, Lando hugged you tight, squeezing you into him, and even though you tried to wiggle out of his grip, you couldn’t.

”No! Lando, let me be sad and angry at you.“

”No, nops, not today. Look at me, baby.“

You lifted your head and looked into his eyes, gently, he wiped the tears off your cheeks and kissed your nose softly.

”We will not fight because of her. We will go up there, you‘ll sit on my lap, and we‘ll smile at her. Just smile. Because you’re mine and she’s not anymore and never will be again.“

”I don’t want to see her.“

”I‘m sorry baby, I‘ll talk to Max tonight, I’ll see what I can do, okay?“

You nodded and squeezed him a bit tighter.

”I like you, a lot. Don’t listen to her.“

”I like you a lot too, but you have to promise me, to not text her again.“

”Don’t worry, the next day, after she replied, I deleted her number and the conversation, so I can’t even reach her anymore, not that I want to. She‘ll never be in my head ever again, I have you and Max will see that I don’t need her in my life.“

You shared a kiss and enjoyed each other's company, before heading up again to join the others. Lando sat down, pulled you on his lap, and crossed his arms in front of you. Everyone looked at you and you felt Luisa’s stare, it made you feel small and you snuggled more into Lando, now being with your back against his chest. It was almost like smoke was coming out of Luisa‘s ears, but you didn’t pay any attention to her, only focusing on Lando’s hands and the sweet words of affection he whispered in your ears.

The group was chatting the whole time, Lando and you were in your own little bubble, every now and then people would ask you something, or Lando would throw in certain comments, but the rest of the time, you were trying not to get Luisa’s presence get too close to you. When Oliver declared he needed a Cocktail and would mix some, everyone agreed and ordered their favorite, Luisa was trying hard to get Lando’s attention but he made sure to not give her any. He was chatting with you, with his family, with Max and Pietra but never with Luisa, and she was annoyed. Whenever you would look at her, she was glaring at him, trying to get him to talk to her, but he never did anything. After a few drinks, you were sitting at the bar and chatting with the girls (Pietra and Luisa excluded) and Lando came to you.

”I‘m gonna go and talk to Max and Pietra, I‘ll see what I can do.“

You nodded and kissed him quickly, looking after him as he went and tapped Max on his shoulder.

”You are so sweet together.“

”Oh thank you, Flo.“

”She‘s right, he‘s never been so.. himself. He‘s super clingy, even cuddles with me sometimes when he is home and feels lonely. Two years ago on Christmas, we were watching Home alone and he just came, hugged me, and cuddled close to me, some might say it’s weird that siblings cuddle like that, but he‘s such a clinger.“

”Cis, you know, he‘s been like that with me since the first meeting. I‘ve always wondered why, but now that you’re telling me that he‘s always like that.. makes me feel even more at home with him.“

”When do you think he‘s going to ask you to be his girlfriend?“

You scoffed.

”Don’t scoff! You’re acting like an old couple.“

”I‘m just enjoying it like it is right now, we‘ve only known each other for like two and a half weeks, I don’t wanna rush things.“

”I‘m sure it‘ll be soon.“

Before you could answer, you heard Luisa screaming, due to her being further away, you couldn’t understand what she was saying, but it didn’t sound too happy, and after ten minutes, an angry Luisa was stomping down the ramp towards a taxi. You looked at the girls and they didn’t know what to say either. Lando came to you with a big smile.

”She‘s gone! We‘ve talked to her and she left.“

You jumped off your seat and hugged Lando, being thankful that he actually did it and got her to leave.

”What did you say to her?“

”Just that she was evil and we don’t want to have her here.“

”You’re the best Lando.“

He grinned and gave you a kiss, hugging you tight as his life depended on it.

The rest of the vacation was spent in peace, you were partying, tanning, laughing and most importantly, you and Lando were happy.

Pietra and you actually got along, after Luisa left, she apologized a dozen times and you made up, both of you promised to meet up together when the boys were streaming and had no time for them.

But everything comes to an end, even the good things, so you sat at the airport waiting for your flight back home, Lando was sad that the summer break was over and the vacation too. He loved having you meet his family and getting along so well. When they announced that boarding started and all of you waited in the line, Lando turned to you, to ask a question.

”Do you want to come to a race with me?“

————————————————————————

It took you a few tries to finally join Lando for a race, you tried to come to Zandvoort, failed because of your work that you couldn’t skip, the next race was Monza, your friend's birthday was scheduled on Saturday evening and you agreed to come a month before knowing Lando. The whole time you were texting, sexting, and calling, you always wanted to be close but due to his tight schedule and your also consuming work plan, it was nearly impossible to see each other.

So when you could take some time off to come to Singapore, Lando was over the moon. When you told him over FaceTime, he was not able to get rid of his smile, but neither were you. Together you flew to Singapore and if you hadn’t had to shut up during the night, you would’ve talked over the whole time you were in the air.

Friday was fun, seeing what Lando loved doing the most, made your heart full. Fp1 and Fp2 showed some good potential and Lando was able to collect much-needed data.

Saturday was qualifying day and you were nervous, sure it was nerve-wracking to see your favorite driver trying to get a good lap in, but seeing it in real life and knowing the person as well as you do, it’s something else. Lando wasn’t too happy with P4 but he tried to cover it up as best as he could. He wanted to focus on Sunday and do his best.

And his best he did. The P2 made you jump up and down, hugging Adam tightly, who was also there. Together with the team, that you‘ve gotten to know over the weekend, you waited for him in parc fermé behind the barrier. When he saw you, his eyes lit up and he hugged you tight, overwhelmed with emotions.

Later when you two were in the hotel, sharing a bed, Lando had an important question.

”Will you be my girlfriend?“

The end

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[ddejavvu]

Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 1) / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (Final Part)

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 11.3K / navigation / inbox

A/N: thank you to everyone who has encouraged me in my development of this series! it's three parts long, and each part will be posted one week after the one before it. that means you get chapter 2 next week, and chapter 3 two weeks from now. and after chapter 3 is released, i will post the full fic in one single post, so that it's easier to read. this series means a lot to me, it's the longest fic I've ever finished for this account, and I would really love to hear what you think of it. Thank you to the love of my life miss jade (@luveline), for being the first person to read this (!!), and for all of your wonderful feedback that cheered me on as I crossed the finish line for this series. I don't think I would have finished it if it wouldn't have been for your support, so thank you sweetpea <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

It’s 11:14 AM when you get the call. Your phone buzzes ballistically beneath your pillow, where you’d stuffed it haphazardly last night somewhere close to 4 AM. For the record, you’d only slept because your eyes hurt from being open for so long. You’re certain that, after what you’d done, you deserved to ache for eternity, but you’d succumbed to sleep when it pulled hard enough at you.

Raising the phone to your ear is a chore, especially because the number on the screen is unrecognizable, but you stretch your tired, bed-ridden limbs and hold the cool glass screen to your face. It’s jarring, and you long for the stuffy warmth of the pillow again.

“Hello?”

“Miss Y/N Mitchell?” It’s a man’s voice, deep and strong through the receiver. It’s no-nonsense, and you almost worry that you’ve misfiled your taxes, that someone from the IRS is tracking you down.

“That’s me,” You rub sleep out of your left eye, harder than necessary so that your vision is blurry when you open your eye again. You’re not very gentle with yourself these days.

“You’re listed as an emergency contact for Mr. Bradley Bradshaw. He’s currently a patient at the Naval Medical Center in San Diego. He was brought in at 9:37 AM this morning when his jet malfunctioned mid-exercise, and he crashed into a canyon below.”

Your heart stops. 

Your cheeks get hot, your hands start to tingle, and your stomach feels like it’s going to start turning cartwheels, sloshing your insides around until you vomit what little you’ve eaten.

Bradley’s dead, you think, Bradley’s dead, Bradley’s dead, Bradley’s dead.

“We were able to airlift him out, and he’s stabilized now-” Bradley’s not dead,  “-but he’s still unconscious. His parents are here, as well as your father, if you’d like to join them.”

It takes a long time for you to speak. It’s almost a full minute, and the man on the other end has to call your name to get you to respond.

“Miss Mitchell?”

“I’ll be there,” You blurt, heaving a shaky breath as you seal a hand over your mouth. You part your fingers only to make sure he hears you clearly as you confirm, “He’s alive?”

“Yes, he’s alive and stable.” The man informs you, “He’ll recover, Miss Mitchell.”

Bradley’s not dead. Bradley’s not dead. Bradley’s not dead.

“I’ll be there,” You repeat, and for the first time in almost 36 hours, you kick the crappy motel blankets off of your legs and stand, “Thank you, sir.”

--

Wearing a bra again after two weeks of lazing around in bed is awful. But you’ll do it for Bradley, if only to make up for the last thing you’d said to him.

“I can’t love you anymore!” Rings in your ears, and a vision of Bradley’s hands reaching desperately for you flashes through your mind, covering up the green light ahead of you.

Someone honks behind you, a BMW. You jolt to attention, stepping on the gas and jerking into the intersection.

Easy, you chide yourself, You’re going to the hospital to visit a patient, not to be one.

You’re able to pull into the hospital’s parking lot without nearly causing any more car crashes, and you briefly wonder if you should take the coward’s way out again as you trek over the asphalt towards the hospital. You’d run two weeks ago, why not now? Why not now, when what you’d been worried about that night has actually happened?

Urged by the regret flooding your veins since fleeing, you walk on, stepping through the automatic doors of the hospital and sidling up to the reception desk.

“I’m here to see Bradley Bradshaw,” You inform the nurse there, “Uh- Lieutenant. If that… helps.”

She sends you a kind smile, filled with sympathy that you’re thankful for as you stammer and stumble your way through speaking. You’re sure you’re not the most distraught person here, and you’re guiltily thankful for that. 

“Room 624,” The nurse tells you, and oh, what a sick coincidence, “Down the hall and to the left, take the elevator up and follow the arrows on the floor.”

6/24 is not only Bradley’s birthday, but your anniversary; the day you’d kissed him on the swings in his backyard with hot fudge sticking to your lips. He’d been glum about his dad missing his birthday on deployment, and, of course, your dad couldn’t be there either. Carole had done her best to brighten up her boy, but some things couldn’t be mended with gift wrap, and you all knew that.

You’d snuck out to join him that night with a sundae, offering him the serving spoon thickly coated in the chocolate. He’d accepted it with a huffy eye roll, upset that you’d managed to cheer him up even a little bit with just one spoon of ice cream.

--

“It sucks,” Bradley mutters around the chocolate in his mouth, the syrup sticking his words together, “I know he can’t do anything about it. But I still want him here.”

“I know,” You hum, taking a bite of ice cream for yourself, “I’m sorry, Brad. If it makes you feel any better, he’ll probably get you something, like, really good when he gets back. He’ll feel all guilty, that’s what my dad did and I got a puppy out of it.”

“We’ve already got a puppy,” Bradley gestures to the Bradshaw’s family dog, well on in years by the gray around his muzzle and his tendency to nap instead of move.

“Maybe you’ll get one that you can actually play with,” You offer Bradley another bite of the ice cream, and you only feel a little bad for making fun of Lewis. But the dog doesn’t understand your teasing, softly snoring on the porch.

“Maybe he’ll get me a car,” Bradley gushes, “A bitchin’ one, like a Bronco or something. Then we can put our surfboards in the back and go to the beach.”

“You don’t even have a license!” You elbow Bradley, laughing at his lofty dreams, “But a Bronco would be cool. You should send your dad a magazine clipping of one with your next letter and talk about how cool it is.”

“You’re smarter than you look,” Bradley muses, a smear of chocolate over his lower lip that he doesn’t lick away.

You scoff, stomping on his foot where it’s planted in the grass beside your own. He jolts away with a yelp, and in doing so, jerks the swing he’s sitting on, He catches his balance and you notice the syrup on his lip, reaching out to clean it with your thumb.

“You’ve got hot fudge on your face, doofus,” You sneer, happy to return his teasing, “You eat like a toddler.”

“I’m not the one who put three cups of it on the sundae!” Bradley insists, and his lower lip catches your thumb as he speaks. Teenagers in love, you’re hyperaware of touches like that, and your breath hitches in your throat at the contact. He notices it too, staring down wide-eyed at where your thumb hovers over his lips.

“Sorry,” He blurts, and in doing so, his warm breath fans over your hand. You jerk it away, eyes on the ground as you mumble away his concerns.

“It’s fine,” You mutter in a terrible attempt to remain nonchalant, “We’re not four, it’s not like I think you’ve got cooties or something.’

Bradley takes to the teasing, glad it’s not tense anymore, “That’s not what you say when I leave my underwear on the floor.”

“‘Cause that’s gross!” You launch into a rant, “That’s, like, personal! And they’re used too,” You shudder, handing him the sundae intent on scrubbing a hand over your face, “Nasty, bro.”

Despite your casual nickname for the boy beside you, you feel like anything but bros when his hand brushes yours. He takes the ice cream from you, and his hand half-closes around your own, sending a spark shooting up your spine.

Your breath catches in your throat again and this time Bradley hears it, looking at you through his lashes with those wide brown eyes.

Neither of you move away this time, frozen just like the treat in your joint grip.

You feel extra affection for the boy next to you today, the shared grief of losing your fathers every few months bringing you closer together. It’s what compels you to lean in, tilting your swing sideways to brush your lips over his own in a painfully awkward teenage-style kiss. Before you have the time to panic about whether you did the right thing, Bradley reciprocates, pursing his lips slightly to fit them around your top one. You follow his lead and it goes much better, a chaste kiss that’s sweeter than the chocolate staining your lips.

--

You’re glad you’d kissed him that day, you’re glad you had the balls to take the leap that resulted in a nearly twenty year long relationship. It would have been twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-five, fifty if you hadn’t chickened out two weeks ago, but you try not to think about that in the elevator lest you make yourself sick.

You find room 624 easily, the painted arrows on the floor leading you down the hallway that the room stands in. You wonder if you should knock first, you’re not too knowledgeable on hospital etiquette, but you decide that manners can be damned, your boyfriend- ex-boyfriend is in there.

You turn the handle and step inside, and Carole looks up from Bradley’s bedside immediately. You think she’s expecting a doctor, and her desperation for finding one breaks your heart. Her teary face splits into a sad smile, and she rushes to your side to envelop you in a hug. You let her have it because she’s grieving over her son, but you’re surprised she’s not immediately angry with you for breaking up with Bradley.

“Honey,” She gushes into your shoulder, “Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re here! Brad’s gonna be okay, they said he’s just gonna need some help breathing until he gets stable. Then they can get him healthy and ready to go again!”

“That’s great,” You hold her close, relishing the last Bradshaw hug you’ll probably ever get, “Where’s Nick and dad?”

“Oh, they went to get food,” Carole releases you, swatting her hand in the air in an affectionately teasing manner, “You know those boys, always hungry for something.”

You laugh awkwardly, watching as she settles down by Bradley’s bedside again. She looks back up at you where you’re swaying on your feet, gesturing to the chair beside her, “Well come on, girl! Get in here!” She seems much more lively now that she has company, and you hate to think of her grieving her injured son alone.

“Oh- I, uh,” You stammer, darting for the seat beside her, “I wasn’t sure if-”

“Don’t worry,” She seems to misplace your concern, “He’s okay, sweetie-pie, you won’t hurt him just by breathin’ on him.”

“Right,” You smile, though its disingenuous with tension, “Um, so it was a mid-exercise crash?”

“Mhm,” Her face dims slightly, “Apparently there was some freak accident with one of the engines, 'set off the whole thing. And that’s two crashes in one week! First it was that Javy boy, I tell you, I think they should vet those engineers better. I mean, aren’t they supposed to catch that stuff beforehand?”

“Yeah,” You feel partially numb, but you’re not sure whether it’s emotional or physical. You’ve been trying to avoid looking at Bradley so far, using his bubbly, bouncing mom as a distraction, but now that the blonde has settled beside you your eyes drift. 

He could be perceived as sleeping, if the color wasn’t drained from his face. His skin is still tan but it’s duller now, golden brown fading to a sickly, colder shade of it, like there’s no life beneath it. His eyes are shut and there’s a breathing tube up his nose; you wonder how pissed he’ll be when he wakes up to find out they’ve had to trim his mustache around the thing.

“Must be a Bradshaw family tradition,” Carole breaks your concentration, laughing weakly, her voice lined with a hint of tears, “Crashing, scarin’ their girls half to death.”

You remember the day of Goose’s crash like it was yesterday. You’d only been three at the time, freshly so. But grief like that, the panic you’d observed, doesn’t go away. It can’t be forgotten, it can’t drift out of your brain like so many memories do with age. You and Bradley had sat together in the hospital with Carole and your dad, and Nick still had the crummy plane drawings you’d done for him while waiting for him to wake up.

Carole’s usage of the phrase ‘their girls’ unnerves you. She’s been exceptionally nice to you so far, especially considering that she’s fiercely protective of Bradley, and should have kicked you halfway to Mars for ditching him like you’d done. But she’s leaning towards you in her chair, and you come to the dreadful realization that she doesn’t know you’ve broken up with Bradley.

“Now, I know you wanted to keep things hush-hush,” She gushes, happy to look at your animated face instead of Bradley’s still one for a moment. She reaches over to brace her hands on your knees, leaning eagerly into your space, “But I have to know, babycakes, how did it go?”

“Hm?” You look dazedly at her, still partially staring at Bradley.

“The proposal!” She squeezes your hands, sniffling weakly with the remnants of tears past, “I know that boy was finally manning up enough to ask you, 'should'a put a ring on you years ago."

Any other time, you'd groan at Carole's opinion on your relationship. She's been urging the two of you to tie the knot for decades, but you'd felt no burning desire to go to the courthouse. You were comfortable in your life, why spend an obscene amount of money to get a piece of paper that tells you you're in love? You knew that for free, in the way that Bradley looked at you, in the way that he memorized all of your fast food orders, in the way that his hand so often found yours beneath the sheets in his sleep. Now her teasing is a sore spot, one that gapes the wound already bleeding in your chest.

"-But when I asked him how it went he said he’d ‘share the details later’. I’m sure you wanted to make some big announcement or something, but I need this right now, honey, tell me what happened.”

She’s staring at you like she always has, like you’re the sweet little girl she helped raise when your mama had chickened out. Cowardice must run in the family.

There’s such pretty hope shining in her eyes that you can’t bear to crush it, ready to spew lies about how glorious Bradley’s proposal had gone, how you’d fallen to your knees to kiss him, how you’d shouted ‘yes!’ from the rooftops. Fortunately, you don’t have to lie to her, because the door opens and your dad and Nick step through.

“Hey,” Your dad cheers, tossing you a plastic-wrapped sandwich, “There you are, honey. I was worried you weren’t gonna show up, ‘thought you’d be mad at him or something.”

“You know she was mad at me when we went down?” Goose gestures to Carole incredulously, and you can’t see behind his sunglasses but you know he’s addressing you, “I wasn’t even flying the damn thing and I got lectured!”

He lets up, goes easy on Carole, you’re sure because he’d had to comfort her earlier. You see a slightly dark, damp patch on the left side of his Hawaiian shirt as he leans in to hug you, probably her tears.

“Good to see ‘ya, kid,” Nick rubs your back, “You doin’ okay?”

“Yeah,” You nod, voice slightly shaky as you smooth your previously-folded hands down your thighs. The movement catches Carole’s attention, and you look away before you can see her reaction to your bare ring finger.

“He’ll be fine,” Goose leans over to slap Bradley’s calf, and Carole looks like she wants to scold him for it, as if he'll die right then and there, “He’s tough just like’is daddy.”

“His daddy should go get me some tea,” Carole huffs, placing her hand over Bradley’s as if it would make up for Nick’s slap, “And take Maverick with you, I don’t want you getting lost.”

“Oh, again-?” Goose grumbles, setting his lunch on one of the plastic chairs around Bradley’s bed, “You could’a told me that before we left, honey.”

“Didn’t want it until now,” Carole insists, “Now shoo, get some for Y/N, too.”

The second the door shuts behind the two men, a stiff silence falls over the room.

Carole’s sweet voice breaks it, but it’s the last thing you want to hear, “Where’s the ring?”

You stare at the sandwich in your lap, like it’ll open face and read like a book, giving you instructions on how to lie your way through this.

“I know he asked you,” She presses on, voice pitched up with tension, “I- I gave him the ring Nick used to propose to me. That was almost a month ago. We swapped it out for a wedding band, and- and I thought Bradley could use the engagement ring for you, too. I know he asked you.”

“Carole,” You can’t bear to look her in the eyes, not the woman who’d fed you macaroni and cheese when your dad was halfway around the world in a fighter jet and tucked you in extra tight during a rainstorm so that the lightning couldn't sneak through the gaps in the blankets to get you.

“No, tell me, where is the ring?” She raises her voice, the way she used to when Bradley would leave his scooter out in the rain to rust, “Just tell me-” Her voice peters out into a weak whimper, “-tell me you didn’t say no.”

“I’m a coward,” You finally mutter as her answer, hateful and wicked, “I got scared. I wish I’d said yes, really, I- I wish I could take it back, but-”

“What did you do?” Her face crumples at your admission and she nearly shrieks, squeezing her hand tighter over Bradley’s, “Y/N, what did you do?”

“I said no!” You sob, chest heaving as you wipe away a tear from your eye heavy-handed, “I was scared, Carole. After Coyote went down,” You blearily recall the last plane crash you’d heard about, a member of Bradley’s own squadron caught in a bird strike. He’d been fine, but waiting for the news took you right back to your youth, and you’d been hit with the striking realization that it could happen to Bradley, too. It could be you in that chair, it could be your love on the line. You’d been so sick with dread that you’d backed away altogether, running away to preserve your emotions.

“I just- I didn’t want it to happen to Bradley,” You confess, “I didn’t want it to happen to me. So when he asked, I was-” You sniffle, hard, “I was so scared. I didn’t want to marry him and then lose him. For some reason this-” You suppress a sob, throat aching and chest heaving, “-dating a pilot is different than marrying one. Dating is- it’s temporary, even if you plan on it lasting forever. It’s less serious, it’s not set in stone. But marriage-” You hiccup, “-marriage is the real deal. It's like- It's like I was dating Bradley, y'know, the teenage boy who took me to homecoming because I was sad no one asked me. But- but then all of a sudden I was marrying an aviator. And that’s- that was scary! That was real. I- we’d been together for twenty years!” You gush, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, “I should have known marriage wouldn’t be any different. It’s not like we ever thought we’d break up,” You sniffle weakly, “Marriage was always sort of silly to me, 'cause we just thought we'd be together forever regardless. But I never realized how real it would feel. So I- I freaked out. When he asked me, I made up some stupid excuse, and I chickened out! But-” Your chest heaves with a sob as you finally lift your eyes to Bradley, “He crashed anyway. He went down even though I said no, and it still hurts.” You cry, face scrunched in despair, “It hurts so bad, Carole, I didn’t think it would still hurt.”

“You fool,” She huffs exasperatedly, but she reaches out to clutch your hand like a lifeline. She’s holding Bradley’s with her other, and you wish for a moment that you could cut out the middleman and hold his hand on your own. You don't feel worthy to touch him anymore. “You don’t stop loving someone by leaving them, you stop loving them by moving on. Of course it still hurts, you didn't move on; you still love him. And- and leaving him didn’t stop him from getting hurt, it just meant he probably went down wishing he got to tell you he loved you this morning, so you'd know.”

The thought breaks you, Bradley ejecting with you on his mind. Evidently he hadn’t fully accepted your breakup, not if he hadn’t even told his mom about it. You wonder if he was planning on trying to get you back, if after work today he would have come over with flowers and a thousand pleas on his lips that you didn’t deserve.

“He loves you,” She continues, tears wetting her own cheeks, “And even if you did say somethin’ stupid, I don’t think there’s anything you could tell that boy that’d make him stop loving you. Apologize when he wakes up, baby, he’ll understand. He'll be hurt, no doubt. But he’s been scared before, too, believe me.”

“I will,” You gush, nodding as she squeezes your hand and Bradley’s in sync, “I will, I promise! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Just make it right,” She pleads, “Can’t have you two splittin’ up now, not after all this time.”

“I wish I hadn’t done it,” You weep, holding your hands to your eyes as if you can plug up the tears, “I- I just panicked! And I’ve been a wreck ever since, I- I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t-”

“Tea’s here!” The door opens, and Nick is suddenly a lot quieter as he sees you bent in half and crying, “Oh, honey.”

“C’mere,” Your dad edges around Goose, squatting by the side of your chair while Carole rubs your back. He’s always been fantastic at comforting you, which you marvel at because he was so active in his career. He wasn’t always around when you were little, but that didn’t stop him from knowing how you liked your back rubbed, your hair done, and your cookies warmed.

“He’s gonna wake up,” Your dad soothes you, wiping a tear away from your face, with the hand that isn’t rubbing your back, “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay,” Carole promises, and you know she’s talking about something else entirely, “It’s alright honey, it’ll all work out.”

Nick feels a bit useless now, standing there with two cups of tea in his hands while everyone else comforts you, but he’s quick to notice a frown work its way onto Bradley’s sleeping face.

“Brad- hey! Look,” He gestures with one cup of tea, only spilling a tiny drop, “I think he’s wakin’ up.”

All of a sudden you want to go home. You’re not sure you can do this, you don’t belong here with his grieving family. You belong in your bed, kicking yourself for your cowardice and wishing you’d done better by him.

But there’s no time to flee now, not again. This time you have to brave it, you have to watch as his big brown eyes slowly blink open, a haze of sleep and medication clouding them over.

“Agh,” He groans, hand twitching by his side, “What-?”

“Hey, Bradley.” Nick leans over the bed, tea now set aside on a tiny table, “How y’feelin’ bud? You had quite the plane crash.”

Bradley takes a moment to observe his surroundings, blinking blearily at your dad, then you, then his mom. His eyes drift back over to you and they feel like they’re lasers, boring searing holes through your chest where your heart used to be two weeks ago.

The slow and steady beeping that had been long since tuned out slowly started to increase while Bradley regained consciousness. Your dad looked warily at the machine, watching Bradley’s heart rate rise.

“I’ll get a doctor.” He ducks out, and Carole stands.

“We should go,” She grabs Nick’s hand, looking pointedly at you, “We’ll give you a minute alone with him, honey.”

Nick starts to protest about being led away, something about how ‘-he came outta my balls! I can’t see him when he wakes up in the hospital?’ but Carole’s already corralling him to the nurse’s station in search of your father. If you weren’t so fond of the woman you’d be cursing her for sticking you alone with Bradley, but you know you can’t let yourself succumb to fear again; this time you have to be a big girl.

“Baby,” Bradley rasps, turning your attention back on him. You watch him weakly, eyes apprehensive as he reaches for your hand, “C’mere.” 

You hesitate, and he lets out a weak chuckle, “Come on, now. You’re not gonna kill me by holding my hand.”

“Bradley,” You sniffle, reaching out for his limp fingers on the bed, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” He smiles lazily, eyes drooping, “I’m okay. Comes in the job description, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” You repeat, grief-stricken as you clutch at his hand desperately, “I shouldn’t have left, I- I wish I had stayed.”

“Baby,” His brows furrow and he laughs sympathetically, “They wouldn’t have let you stay, you know that. I work on a naval base, not at a chipotle. You can’t sit with me all day. Plus, there was no way you would’ve known I was gonna go down. I’m glad you weren’t there, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have wanted you to see that.”

All at once, your chest burns hot, blazing with panic. Is he not going to talk to you about it? Is he going to pretend nothing happened? Is he going to refuse to acknowledge what you’d said? You stammer, “What-?”

“Mr. Bradshaw!” The doctor comes in, cheery now that his patient is awake. You turn your head, still dazed and fear-stricken at Bradley’s demeanor. “Let’s see how you’re doing here. Any chest pain?”

“A little,” Bradley shifts in his bed, wincing infinitesimally.

“Probably just some discomfort due to the broken ribs. Headache?”

“Yeah,” Bradley admits with a groan, “That I’ve got.”

The doctor scribbles something down on his chart, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Bradley strains to think, “I… don’t know. I don’t even-" He grimaces, "I don't even remember the crash, ‘just know it happened ‘cause he told me.”

Bradley raises a shaky finger to point at Nick, who’s happy to see his son gain some mobility back, even if he is worried for the boy. The three adults had filed back into the room after the doctor, and you pointedly avoid Carole’s imploring stare.

“Think hard,” The doctor commands, and you squeeze his hand like it’s a play-dough machine, like memories will ooze themselves into his brain in star shapes and heart cut-outs.

“I remember…” Bradley rasps, turning his hand beneath yours to grasp it, “Jake’s birthday party. That was-” He glances over at you, “-last night?”

“That was three weeks ago,” This time your heart rate is the one to rise, echoing dully in your ears like the soundtrack of a horror film, “Is that-” You sniffle, “Is that the last thing you can remember, B?”

His eyebrows raise and he tries taking in the information, “Yeah- uh, shit. Three weeks ago. What does that mean, doctor?”

“It sounds like you’ve developed post-traumatic amnesia.” The doctor scribbles once more on his paperwork, “The good news is, we think you have only a mild concussion. And amnesia induced by mild concussions typically lasts only up to a week or two at most. But there’s a very real chance you could remember everything in just a few minutes.”

Amnesia.

He doesn’t remember.

“What I want you to do now is to rest, and we’ll have a nurse send up something to eat. Please,” The doctor eyes Nick knowingly, “Do not feed him the funyuns you’re holding behind your back.”

“Foiled again,” Goose laughs, tossing the packet of chips onto a chair beside his own lunch, “You got it, doc.”

“Alright, glad you’re awake,” The doctor bids you goodbye, “And- a nurse will be in to run a few simple tests later. For now, just sleep and eat.”

“Will do,” Bradley tries tightening his hand around yours but you worm away from him, and it’s heartbreakingly easy to do with his limited mobility. You stand abruptly, legs shaky and heart pounding in your chest as you stumble away from his bed.

Amnesia. Amnesia. Amnesia.

He doesn't remember.

“Honey?” Bradley calls warily, face scrunching into a tired frown.

His eyes follow you as you back right into your chair, the plastic scraping against the floor with an ungodly screech. Now the attention is all on you, and you give into that dreaded fight or flight response you seem to always fall victim to.

“I need to use the bathroom,” You ramble, rushing for the door, “I’ll be back!”

“Y/N-” Bradley tries calling, but his voice is weak enough where you can pretend you haven’t heard it as you try to refrain from running down the hall. You don’t make it ten steps before Bradley’s door closes with a sharp click, and the voice of one Carole Bradshaw cuts through the silence of the hallway.

“Y/N Mitchell!”

She’s using the same tone she used to use when you’d get in trouble for pulling a girl’s hair at school, or throwing mud at a boy who was mean to Bradley. You react just like you had then, spine stiffening and limbs locking. 

“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” She warns, stomping towards you in her half-raised heels, “Turn around, young lady.”

You follow her orders even if the nickname is outdated. She’s got her pretty eyes narrowed, and as much as it pains you to be on the receiving end of one of her seldom-used withering stares, it’s better than being in there and watching Bradley’s eyes shift when he suddenly remembers you’d been the biggest douche on planet Earth.

“Did you apologize?” She inquires, and you nod obediently.

“But- but Carole, he doesn’t remember-!” 

“He will,” She promises, “And when he does, you’d better apologize again. He needs you right now, y’know? He thinks it’s three weeks ago, before you ran off and left'im. As far as he knows, you’re still his adoring girlfriend who he’s probably yearning to see right about now. So go in there,” She reaches for your hand, “Kiss that boy on the mouth,” She demands, “And stop running away!”

“What? I can’t-” You gush, trying to pull away. But she’s stronger than Bradley is at the moment, and her hand tightens around yours, “I can’t lie to him! Not about this, I- how long am I supposed to pretend?”

“As long as you can,” She insists, already pulling you back towards his room, a woman on a mission, “You march right on in there, and tell him how worried you were, and let his memories come back to him on his own time. He’s traumatized right now, he just doesn’t know it yet, and he needs you there. If you break the news to him now, it’ll only stress him out more. Go play nice, and when he comes around in a few minutes, you can have a real talk.”

“I don’t want to lie to him,” You lament, and she stops pulling you down the hall to narrow her eyes at you.

“Babydoll?” She asks sweetly, and fooled by her kindness, you hum in question, “I don’t give a shit.”

She’s never foul-mouthed, so it catches your attention. She holds your incredulous gaze, “You want him back?”

“Yes.”

“You wish you’d never left?”

“Yes.”

“Well as far as he knows, you haven’t.” She huffs, the fabric of her skirt flowing near her calves, “So get in there and be there for your boyfriend of twenty years, and when he suddenly remembers you aren’t his girlfriend anymore, Grovel. Sound like a plan?” She raises an eyebrow, and you tamp down the nerves rising in your chest. You nod cautiously, resolutely, and she loosens her grip on your hand. She still holds it to lead you back to the room, but she stops outside the door to speak one last time.

“I know you love him,” Her voice is softer now, genuinely sweet and caring, “And I also know you like to run when things get scary. And that’s understandable, but it’s not okay, not right now. You can’t stop loving someone just ‘cause you don’t wanna lose ‘em. It’ll hurt worse if you walk away.”

“I know,” You breathe shakily, squeezing her hand, “Thanks, Carole.”

“Anytime, sweetpea,” She smiles, tears still gathered in her eyes, “Now get in there and kiss my son.”

“There they are,” Your dad stands as you reenter the room, “You ladies have a nice bathroom break?”

“‘Had the time of our lives,” Carole nods, letting you take the seat closest to Bradley’s head. Your feet feel burdened with lead weights as you step towards his bedside, and he watches you with worried eyes. You’re sure he knows you weren’t really going to the bathroom, not with the way you’d fled, but you’re glad he’s choosing to pretend for your sake. He seems worried, though, and you curse yourself for making this about you.

“Y/N,” He reaches out for you as soon as you’re in reach, his voice still hoarse. His hand squeezes yours instantly, and you feel for the panic he's probably experiencing. He deserves a shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold, and it should be someone better than you.

“Bradley,” You murmur back, trying to stop your lips from trembling, “I- can I kiss you?”

Carole’s voice rings in your ears, and you don’t have to turn around to know she’s smiling at the two of you. Bradley pauses, then his worried eyes soften and he nods weakly against the pillow.

“Oh,” Nick teases as you brace your hand on Bradley’s bed, leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to his lips, “Lovebirds!”

The kiss is nothing but awkward. It’s hesitant on your end, because you can’t believe you get to do it again. You’d really believed the goodbye kiss you’d shared with Bradley before he picked up dinner for the two of you would be your last one, so fitting your lips over his in the hospital seems like something otherworldly. You’re careful, too, because you don’t want to hurt him, not that you think you could ever smooch him to death. He doesn’t reciprocate much, he can’t, but the familiar prickle of his mustache against your lip is a welcome feeling that makes your heart feel light again, if only for a few seconds.

When you pull away, it’s gone. Because you have to look him in the eyes, the same ones you’d forced tears out of two weeks ago, and pretend like none of it happened at all.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” You gush, voice cracking, and it feels right starting off with the truth. You can get to the lies later, the ugly little abominations you’re cooking up so that he preserves as much mental energy as possible while on bedrest. You know Carole’s right, you know he needs to heal as much as he can before you make it worse with the news, but lying feels so wrong. He’ll find out sooner or later, and what if he really was done with you? What if he hadn’t told his mom so that no family drama erupted, what if it wasn’t because he was going to try to get you back? What if he hated you, and what if he hates you even more when he knows you’re lying through your teeth to him?

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He promises, his fingers curling slowly and carefully around your own, "Are you? You ran off, I was worried."

"I'm fine," You insist, waving away his concern with a shake of your head.

He doesn't seem satisfied with your answer; he can read you like a book. But he accepts your answer, and you admire him for not wanting to pry in front of everyone. He changes the subject, glancing briefly around the hospital room, “Baby my- my phone, can I have my phone?”

“It’s here,” Your dad hands it to him, and Carole watches your eyes widen infinitesimally. What if Bradley sees his text conversations? What if he sees that you haven’t talked in half a month? What if he finds messages from someone on a dating app he’d used, a rebound-in-the-making?

What if he’s changed his background? What if he wants an answer as to why it’s probably some picturesque sunset, a jet plane cutting through the clouds above. Or maybe it’s of Lewis, he’d recently had photos restored of the dog.

What if he notices your contact name is changed to something like ‘Do not answer’? What if he realizes he’s blocked you? What if all of your pictures together are deleted off of his phone, and he wonders why?

There’s a thousand things that could go wrong.

“Coyote called,” Bradley rasps, upon first sight of his screen. Then, “Hangman. Twice. Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, I- I should send out a message.”

“I will!” You lunge for your own phone, digging in your back pocket with suspicious urgency, “Uh, I’ll let everyone know, you just- just rest.”

“Okay,” Bradley hesitates for only a second, letting his grip go loose around his phone so that it falls back to the bed.

He seems content to let you do it, if only a little deterred by your insistence. But you’ll play the part of the fussy girlfriend, not wanting her injured love to work harder than he has to.

Nick and Pete take the time that you’re creating a group thread to question Bradley more on his memories, and every answer he gives sets your heart on edge. Your fingers feel numb as you type out ‘Rooster’s stable now, he has a mild concussion and a few broken ribs, but the doctors say he’ll recover fully. His memories are a little hazy from the past few weeks but apparently those will be back soon. I’ll send you any updates we get.’

Before anyone even has a chance to reply, you set the thread on silent. You can’t bear even getting a notification that the message can’t be sent, because you’re sure Bradley’s team aren’t too fond of you right now, and you wouldn’t be surprised if they’d blocked you in solidarity for their friend. But Bradley hadn’t even told his mom, would he have told his team? Would he even need to? Or would they notice the circles beneath his eyes worsening, the stubble adorning his cheeks from a lack of motivation to do anything productive? Or, maybe even worse, would they have seen him with another girl hanging off of his arm at a bar? Would they have caught him out to lunch with a woman and figured it out themselves?

“Hey,” Bradley rasps, effectively breaking your zoned-out worry spiral. Your eyes don’t lose their intensity but they focus on his pale face, and he offers you a weak smile, “Anyone respond?”

“Always the attention seeker,” Nick laughs, creating a distraction so perfect that you don’t bother checking the text to answer Bradley. “Should we tell ‘em to bring flowers too, Brad?”

“Shut up,” Bradley’s voice is far too quiet to be menacing, but it’s the type of teasing he always engages in with his old man, “When you were in the hospital you said I had to draw you one picture a day or you’d think I didn’t love you.”

“And I only got fifteen out of eighteen,” If Goose is capable of a withering stare, it’s what’s directed at Bradley now, “I can’t believe I bought a Bronco for a kid who doesn’t love me.”

“Alright, you two,” Carole swats at her husband’s arm, “Cut it out, don’t overwhelm him.”

“His heart’s beatin’ real fast,” Nick snickers, “But that’s probably ‘cause Miss Mitchell is doting all over him.”

The attention’s back on you, and it means Bradley’s waiting to hear your response. You dry swallow after sending Nick a good-natured eye-roll, trying to act like your heart isn’t beating ten times faster than Bradley’s.

Miraculously, nothing awful awaits you in the group chat. There’s no error messages, no scolding, no pledges of hatred for you, and it makes you think that you really might be able to get away with this for a while. Carole won’t tell, and that doctor said Bradley might not retain his memories for weeks. It’s like everyone has hit undo on what might be your biggest mistake in life, and you don’t know how to take the opportunity.

“Bob says he hopes you recover soon,” You push the panicked fog out of your head, reading in a low voice, “Hangman says he’s gonna give you flying lessons when you get back so that you,” You snort softly, “Get the hang of it, and to that, he is receiving a barrage of middle finger emojis.”

Rooster lets out a laugh, one that’s genuine and thick from his chest. It’s unlike his voice has been so far, it’s not fractured or achy, and the sound warms your heart. Some of the sickly despair that’s been coating your heart like globs of poison dries up, and you almost feel normal again when you slide your hand into his. He holds your back, and it’s like nothing’s ever happened.

You have your Bradley back; the only question is for how long.

Lunch is a sorry state of affairs for Bradley. His tray consists of chicken and gravy that runs into his mashed potatoes, and the jello they give him has a layer of cherry red liquid pooling overtop. You and Carole take turns spoon-feeding the man, giving each other a chance to mow through your sandwiches between bites.

Your dad watches out for the doctors while you sneak Bradley some of your sandwich. It’s cafeteria turkey, and honestly you’d rather go for the chicken on his plate, but he hums gratefully at the spread of mayonnaise and mustard on the bread.

“Thanks, babydoll.” He croons, a smear of mashed potatoes in his mustache that you wipe away with watery eyes at the nickname. He puckers his lips to kiss at your thumb and it’s like you’re at home on his birthday, feeding him in bed and stealing kisses between bites.

Bradley’s eyes start to droop halfway through his watery jello, and your dad stands, brushing sandwich crumbs off of his jeans.

“Alright, buddy,” He squeezes Bradley’s foot reassuringly, “I’ll head out. Probably best to let you sleep. Get some rest, and make her give us updates,” He narrows his eyes at you, accusatory, “I know you’ll be too wrapped up in him to remember we exist, but take some time away from his lips to tell me if he’s still breathing out of ‘em, m’kay?”

“Don’t be makin’ out too much, “Nick goads, standing when Carole grabs his hand and does herself, “His heart rate’ll skyrocket and the nurse is gonna think he’s havin’ a heart attack!”

‘Yes, yes, they love each other very much,” Carole hums, leaning down to kiss Bradley’s forehead. He leans into it but his hand stays in yours, and you gladly accept the same gesture from the woman on your cheek, “Let’s leave him be, okay? Brad, I’m coming back tomorrow morning,” She promises, “Your dad and Pete have some work to do in the backyard, but they’ll join us after lunch.”

The men don’t seem to have known about this yard work until now, and they share equally exasperated groans. 

“And I’ll be here,” You throw in, meeting Carole’s appreciative gaze, “I’ll stay until they throw me out.”

“You could always handcuff yourself to the bed,” Your dad hums, and you pointedly ignore Goose’s comment about the pair of handcuffs you ‘probably keep in your nightstand.’ It gets him a sharp smack upside the head from your dad, and you’re sure Nick will choose a better audience next time.

“We love you,” Carole promises, squeezing Bradley’s arm as he bids her goodbye, “We’ll see you tomorrow, baby!”

“Love you,” Bradley hums, voice less gruff than before now that he’s used it again, “See you tomorrow.”

The entire time he’s been awake, he hasn’t let go of your hand. He turns to you with those sleepy eyes of his, big and brown and begging for a kiss. You lean in before you can stop yourself, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

His heart rate picks up.

You laugh against his mouth at the increased beeping, and he’s barely sheepish as he nudges his nose against your own. You feel like you’re loving on borrowed time, like any second now he’ll be slammed with the memory of you breaking his heart, stomping all over it like it hadn’t been yours for the past 20 years - maybe all of your life.

“I love you,” He murmurs, squeezing your hand, “Y/N, I- I love you so much. I don’t remember anything,” He’s slurring his words slightly with fatigue, and you kiss the corner of his mouth as he speaks, “But I know you could have lost me forever, and I’m sure it wasn’t easy to handle.”

He has no idea how true his words are. Of course, you’d nearly lost his life to the crash. But two weeks earlier, you’d lost his touch, his voice, his gaze, his love, and you’re grateful the tears that line your eyes look natural.

“Mhm,” You nod, sniffling, “It was- it was hard, Brad.” You admit, thinking back to the night you’d left. You’d checked into a shitty motel for the night, and you’d cried yourself sick in the shower. Even after your stomach was emptied you couldn’t bring yourself to eat for two days afterwards, and you’d only given into the mini fridge after nearly passing out. Your days were long and spent regretting your decision, wondering if you’d ever be happy without him by your side, and worrying that he might be able to.

“I just keep wanting to do it over,” You gush, feeling his hand tighten around your own as you sob, “I- I wanted to take it back, to-” You swallow a sob, remembering your lines, “-to stop you from going to work. If I’d just made you stay…” Your face crumples with a gush of tears you aren’t able to hold back, and you give up on speaking for now.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Bradley hums, kissing the space between your nose and your cheek. It’s all he can reach from the way you’re sobbing into his pillow, and you’re thankful for the comfort you might not be able to get soon.

“You couldn’t have changed anything,” He promises, and you nestle your head into his own to absorb his soothing voice, “My plane was still the one with the defect, baby. I would have gone down tomorrow if not today. ‘S only a matter of time.”

A wave of sickness washes over you at his choice of words, and you nod, trying to regain a grip. You lift yourself up from the pillow, neck aching as you crane it to kiss his chin. He smiles at you, his eyes so genuine and sweet that it makes you want to lose your lunch; it’s an expression you don’t deserve anymore, even if you long for it. It’s only a matter of time before he remembers everything, and you don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t want you anymore.

“You’re tired,” You hum, and he nods against the pillow, “Sleep, baby. You need rest.” You sniffle, wiping away a tear from your eye more forcefully than you need to. You try to lean back in your chair but Bradley stiffens, and feel him tighten his grip on your hand.

“Please don’t leave me,” He begs, and more of that nausea comes rolling in. They’re the exact words he’d whimpered just next to your ear two weeks ago, keeping the door closed with one hand while the other wound around your waist. Then, you’d wormed your way out of his grip, ripping the door open despite his efforts to stop you and running off to your car. Now though, you meet his eyes, scared and desperate and lost, and you nod, scooting forwards to lay your head on his chest.

“I’ll stay,” You promise, and he raises a hand to brace it against your cheek. You turn your head to kiss his palm, and he strokes a thumb over your face, “I’ll stay, Bradley, I promise.”

The nap that you take on Bradley’s chest is the best sleep you’ve had since you left. Being in his embrace once more practically erases your undereye circles, and it takes you a few seconds after you wake up to remember that anything is out of the ordinary in the first place. Then it all comes flooding back, and you cycle through each stage of grief respectively while still slumped onto the bed. Then you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder, and you realize that Bradley’s nurse has shaken you awake.

“Hi,” The man smiles down at you, “Sorry to interrupt. I’m sure you didn’t want to wake up.”

“Oh,” You laugh hesitantly, slipping out from beneath Bradley’s hand and wiping away a slight glob of drool that had accumulated around the corner of your mouth, “No, no, it’s okay. What time is it?”

“Dinnertime,” Another nurse chimes from by the door, carrying another tray of meat and potatoes for Bradley, “Around six-thirty, Miss Mitchell.”

“You’re welcome to eat here with him,” The first nurse informs you, “But you’ll have to get something from the cafeteria, or order in. And visiting hours end at eight,” He levels you with a sympathetic smile, “But if you’ve got one bite left I won’t kick you out.”

“Thank you,” You chuckle wearily, your voice barely thickened with tears, “I appreciate that. Bradley,” You hum, squeezing his hand and stroking your free one through his hair, “Wake up, baby. They brought you some dinner.”

He comes to groggy, and you don’t blame him. He blinks a few times, then recognition washes over his face as he remembers why he’s there, and hopefully nothing else.

The nurses get busy with moving his bed, pressing buttons on the little remote strapped to the side until he’s inclined enough to eat his meal. The tray hooks into the sides of the bed so that he doesn’t have to hold anything, but you take his fork for him anyways, leaving his hands completely free.

“Thank you,” You nod gratefully at the nurses when they retreat for the door, a smear of mashed potatoes already gathered on the utensil in your hand. Bradley’s happy to let you feed him, humming at the taste of the beef they’ve given him. 

“Better than the chicken,” He hums, his voice gaining back a bit of its grating quality from earlier. He’s usually rough-voiced after a nap, so you don’t worry too much about it. Typically you indulge in his raspy morning voice, but now it seems insensitive. 

“Good,” You croon, scooping mashed potatoes and gravy onto a bite of the beef, “And it doesn’t bother your stomach?”

“What’s there to upset it, salt?” He grumbles around a mouthful, “Barely tastes like anything.”

“Sorry, Brad,” You hum, stroking a stray strand of caramel colored hair back into place, “I’m not supposed to feed you anything else, though.”

“I know,” He relents, lips puckering to kiss your wrist instead of wrapping around the spoon in your hand, “Not your fault, baby. But,” He rears back to takes the bite, chewing thoughtfully while you wait for his next sentence, “Can you bring me cookies tomorrow?”

You laugh, trying to keep it quiet in the slowly darkening hospital room. There’s no one around, and the door is closed, but his voice isn’t loud and you don’t want to overpower him. 

“I just said I wasn’t allowed to feed you anything else,” You roll your eyes affectionately, a teasing gesture you thought you’d never be able to do with the man anymore, “What makes you think I’d bring you cookies?”

“Um, ‘cause you love me?” Bradley drawls, voice finally rising to a healthy volume. Maybe it’s the food in his stomach, or maybe it’s a switch that was suddenly flipped in his chest, but he sounds like himself again.

His words sober your fantasy intoxication, and you smile sadly at him where he lays in his bed. You set the fork down to lay your hand over his cheek, your palm soaking in the warmth of his skin that’s newly returned.

“I do love you,” You promise, leaning in to kiss him. You have to lean over his plate to do so, and you’ll worry later about any potential gravy stains on your shirt. You go slow and gentle, worried that he’ll push you away for reasons he doesn’t remember yet. But he doesn’t. In fact, when you pull away to give him some air, he catches your wrist in a surprising display of agility for his weakened muscles, and you freeze in place.

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs, mustache shifting slightly with his apology, “I can’t stop thinking about you getting that call. I never-” His voice cracks, “I never wanted you to go through that.”

“Me neither,” You feel tears pricking at your eyes again, the same that are shining in Bradley’s, “But you don’t have to be sorry. None of this was your fault, and what matters is that you’re okay now. I have you back, Bradley, I- I didn’t lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me,” He vows, and your lips sting with the force of your bite to repress a sob. 

He lifts his head from his pillow, the first time he’s done it since waking up. He kisses your temple as you try not to cry, lips dotting staccato kisses against your skin as you tremble slightly.

“I promise, baby,” He hums softly into your skin as his hand comes up to hug you, “You won’t lose me.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” You cry, your fist gripping his hospital gown desperately. You want to believe him but it’s not even really Bradley talking, it’s three-weeks-ago Bradley that doesn’t remember you walking out of his life for self-preservation. It’s Bradley that doesn’t know the worst of you yet, but who could remember at any moment and cast you away.

“You won’t, I promise.” He coos, stroking up and down your back. You feel silly, accepting comfort from a hospital patient who went down in a fighter jet less than 24 hours ago, but you feel even sillier that it's the same man you’d torn to shreds days prior. But he’s comforting you, he’s rubbing your back, he’s kissing your face, and he’s promising you that you’ll never lose him, so you let him, because you love hearing him lie, even if he doesn't know he's doing it. 

“You promise?” You look up at him with watery eyes that blur out his face, but you see him nod. It’s unfair to ask, not when he doesn’t have the knowledge to truly promise. He cranes his neck forwards to bump noses with you, letting you cry against his skin.

“I do, honey.” He nods, holding you close like you’d never left at all,  “I promise.”

Going from crying into each other’s embraces back to eating bland mashed potatoes is hard, but you ease Bradley into it with a bite of granola bar you’d found in your purse. He’s grateful for something with flavor, and you’re glad to finally be rid of the half-eaten snack. 

“Oatmeal raisin cookies, please,” Bradley begs as he chews the snack, going as far as to bat his pretty lashes at you, brown eyes shiny with hope. 

You scoff, wiping a tear away from your face with a fond, albeit trembling smile, “Okay, Brad. Oatmeal raisin.”

“You’re the best,’ He hums, grinning with a mouthful of oats and chocolate. You check your phone to find that you’ve only got twenty minutes left until visiting hours are over, and your eyes dim as you glance back up at him.

“I have to go soon,” You lament, “Visiting hours are over in twenty.”

His face fades from its pretty smile, some of the newfound color draining from his skin once more. You’re sure he’ll have a nightmare tonight, something about jet crashes and dying alone, and you hate leaving him here so vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, baby,” You sniffle, squeezing his hand, “They open back up at 8 tomorrow, so as soon as I make those cookies I’ll be back, I promise.”

“I know,” He nods, raising your intertwined hands to kiss at your wrist, “It’s okay. Not your fault.”

“I’d stay overnight if I could.”

“I’d sneak you into my bed,” Bradley grins sadly, “S’alright, baby, just get a good night’s sleep. You deserve it after today.”

“You too,” You squeeze his hand, smiling sweetly at him, “And if you have a nightmare, text me, and I’ll crawl through the window, ‘promise.”

He laughs again, and now that he’s got most of his strength back it’s a normal sound. It’s not weak, it’s not subdued, it’s perfect. It’s Bradley.

“I’d like to see you try,” He teases, and you wipe a smear of chocolate off of his lower lip, remembering the first time you’d ever done that with a fond smile.

“I’m on the sixth floor.” He reminds you, and you shrug, sucking the chocolate off of your finger.

“Meh,” You crumble up the granola bar wrapper in your fist, “I could scale that easy.”

“Oh, really? Yeah, I bet you could,” Bradley chuckles, “You’re Spider-Man, suddenly? Sticking to walls? I must have forgotten your transformation.”

“Yeah, you did,” You grin with a laugh, “Actually, while I rushed over here to see you, a truck full of radioactive spiders crashed, and I got bitten by one. You’ve missed a lot, Brad.”

“Right,” Bradley’s brows raise, eyes alight with amusement, “Those radioactive spider trucks are a real nuisance, I hear.”

Giggling sweetly with him feels normal. The kind of normal you crave, the kind that isn’t settled for, but yearned for. And you’re clinging to it, pushing the truth out of your mind and playing the part perfectly.

A knock on the door interrupts your gigglefest and you turn in time to see the nurse from before entering, a bittersweet smile on his face. 

“I’m supposed to kick you out,” He jokes, holding Bradley’s chart, “And you’re free to sleep whenever, Mr. Bradshaw, we don’t need to conduct any more tests tonight. You’re just here to be monitored."

“Alright,” Bradley nods and you stand, still clasping his hand in yours. The doctor busies himself with straightening up the chairs around the bed, and you take the privacy he so kindly grants you.

“Sleep good,” You recite your pre-bedtime deployment sendoff to Bradley, the phrase having gathered dust in the back of your head since his last overseas assignment, “Sweet dreams, and call me when you can.”

“I will,” Bradley leans up to kiss you, going for your lips, then your cheek, then your chin, “You too, baby. Get some rest. I’m okay, I promise.”

“Yeah,” You beam down at him, smoothing his hair away from his forehead, “You’re okay, Brad.”

"See you tomorrow!" He calls as you leave, and you turn to nod.

"See you tomorrow, baby." You promise once more, hand on the door handle, "Goodnight."

“Sleep well, Mr. Bradshaw,” The nurse bids Bradley goodbye with a smile and a nod as you trail out behind him, and at the click of the door behind the two of you, it’s like you’re the recovering amnesia patient. Now that Bradley’s not there anymore, not smiling at you, not telling you he loves you, it’s like you can’t be sure of anything, like you’re still that imposter you’d been when you’d first stepped in. You come to the sickening realization, only after the fact, that you'd loved lying to Bradley, and it makes you feel worse. Your reverie is shattered, and the nurse beside you notices your shaky breathing as you trail down the hallway.

“Miss, are you okay?” His brows furrow in concern, and you nod.

“Yeah, just-” You smooth your hands down your pants, your palms sweaty, “It’s a lot. Being in there, seeing him like- like that. I guess I wasn’t prepared.”

“No one is,” The nurse smiles sympathetically at you, leading you to an elevator, “But he’s right, Miss Mitchell. He’ll be alright. And hopefully, his memories will restore themselves overnight. There’s a good chance he’ll wake up remembering it all.”

You’re sure that was meant to soothe you, but it’s only sent more nausea rolling through your body. You nod, forcing a smile as the doors shut between you, “Thank you, Nurse.”

Once the doors shut, you want to burst into tears. You don’t want the reception desk to see that, though, so you rush through the motions of leaving, practically running to your car. Once you’re safely inside the floodgates open, and you’re surprised you don’t trigger the horn from how hard you’re sobbing against the steering wheel.

You try to channel Bradley’s voice, ‘I promise baby, you won't lose me.’ but it makes things worse, it piles guilt on top of your sickness and makes you want to run away again. Because he’d promised you that he’d never leave you, not that he’d ever let you come back if you’d left him. And that’s what you’re worried about now.

Running away hadn’t stopped anything bad from happening, it just made you feel worse when bad things did happen. Thankful for your second chance, you swear to yourself in the stuffy silence of your car that you’ll do anything to fix this, and that you’re not going to fuck this up again because you’re scared. Love is scary, giving yourself completely to another person is scary, but Bradley’s always been good at soothing your fears, and there’s no one you’d rather give yourself to.

You steel yourself as you prepare to drive back to your motel, but second-guess it when you remember that Bradley has his phone with him. You have each other shared on Find My Friends, and he doesn’t normally check it unless he’s worried about your safety, but you’re paranoid that he’ll find your pin at a crappy motel and know something is wrong. So you punch in Bradley’s address instead, the one you used to share with him, still labeled as ‘home’, and set off.

The drive looks familiar in no time, and it reminds you of how much you’d missed it. The big oak tree on your neighbor’s lawn, the flag perpetually at half-mast because the man across the street fell while adjusting it and never fixed it, the tricycle on the sidewalk beside your front door that the toddler next door always seemed to leave on your walkway. You check the mail and feel something stabbing at your chest when your name is on one of the letters, and your house key is cold with disuse as you slide it into the slot.

You hesitate when the doorknob turns beneath your fingers. Walking into Bradley’s space will tell you exactly how he feels about what happened between you. There’s either going to be empty bottles strewn everywhere with pictures laying around covered in tear stains, or there’s going to be a hot pink bra in his bed, and a new woman’s makeup kit in his bathroom. Hell, maybe she’ll even still be there, maybe you’re about to walk in on your replacement.

But the promise you’d made to yourself in the car wasn’t for show, and you turn the knob after taking a deep breath, stepping into the darkened home.

You call out an uncertain ‘hello?’ into the place, waiting with bated breath for a woman’s voice to respond. But it never does, and you flick the light on beside the door.

You’d been right with one of your guesses.

It’s messy. Not exactly the outwardly disastrous type of messy you’d imagined earlier, but knowing all of the little things about Bradley means that you know he’s let himself go over the past two weeks. His running shoes are gathering dust by the door, which seems to suggest that he’s been lazing in bed just like you have. The living room is pristine, the pillows all arranged the way you set it up that Bradley doesn’t care to replicate, and you wonder if he’s sat on the couch at all the entire time since you’ve been gone. There’s no grocery list on the fridge and upon further inspection, the appliance is close to empty, one lonely beer left alongside ketchup, mustard, and a rotting head of lettuce. Unless he was eating the worst burgers known to man, you don’t think he’s been eating anything from the kitchen. Your heart aches for Bradley; you hope he’s been ordering food in.

Walking through the space is like revisiting a crime scene as the killer. Everything here is because of you, the pictures stripped from the walls are gone because of you, the lonely toothbrush in the dual holder is because of you, the neatly made side of the bed with its messy counterpart is because of you. 

You realize that it’s your side that’s slept on, Bradley’s still tucked neatly in place, unused. You spot a red covering over your pillow, reaching for it and finding it to be an old t-shirt of yours that Bradley had raided your dresser drawers for. It’s one he’d bought you at a tourist trap on your vacation a few years ago, and it was your favorite to lounge in. You notice a dark spot on the fabric and only then realize that you’re crying, that it’s a tear that had fallen from your eye. Then it’s like everything hits you all at once, and you sink onto the mattress clutching the pillow. It smells like Bradley, and you know he’s been clinging to it every night, a thought that solidifies your sneaking suspicion that you might be the worst person on the planet.

You curl up and cry there, you don’t know for how long. All you can do is sob, soak your pillow with tears that you thought you were out of, clutch the bedsheets like they’ll reveal Bradley, hidden underneath and eager for a cuddle. This bed feels as empty as the motel’s had, maybe even emptier, because you’ve never slept in it away from Bradley. When he’s on deployment you always have a sweatshirt of his and a picture of him tucked under the pillow, but you know it won’t be there now. Now you’re alone, really alone. 

Your eyes droop and you know you need sleep, especially if you’re going to wake up early to make Bradley cookies in time for visiting hours to start. But you can’t bring yourself to sleep without the picture of him under his pillow, so you stumble out of bed to fetch it from your box of memories.

Your fingers close around the slightly wrinkled photo, a shot of you in a gown and Bradley in a suit. It’s one you’d taken yourself at your graduation, high school turned college sweethearts. He had wanted admission into the Naval Academy, but in order to spend more time with you, you’d enrolled together at a university. It’s your favorite photo to have with you, and you reach out to Bradley’s pillow to slide it underneath. Upon lifting the pillow, you find a stack of pictures already there. Each one of you, most with Bradley pictured in them too. They only make you cry harder, and you recognize some as the inserts of the picture frames that had been taken down from the hallway.

It looks like Bradley hoarded photos of you, and some are stiff and stained with tears. The sight is something out of a movie, a dramatic indication of the inner turmoil of its main character. You see a shot of your silhouettes together, faces darkened by the sun streaming in behind you. You’re kissing on the beach, and without paying much mind to the structural integrity of the photo, you clutch it to your chest.

You’re a wreck. You just want your Bradley back, but your Bradley isn’t yours anymore. You want three-weeks-ago Bradley back, the one who you didn’t run away from. But he’ll probably have his memories back by tomorrow, and there’s no telling if he’d even want you to visit again. Looking at the sorry state of his apartment, you know he misses you, but whether he wants you back is another question altogether. All you can do is wait and worry, and worry you do. As you sob and heave in the bed, your brain shuts down, and eventually you drift into a dreamless, unpleasant sleep, nose still buried in your shirt that smells like Bradley.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[superhaught]

Sweetest Girl (Chapter Three)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): angstttttttt

Word Count: 2100, Part 3/?

No summary because "so much happened i don't even know what to think" - @sapphicantics

Thank you once again to @sapphicantics for being the best ever <3

Part 1 / Part 2

You saw it coming but it surprised you all the same. Not even two minutes into the fourth episode of Real Housewives that Regina had insisted on starting, she was completely passed out on your shoulder.

Your surprise wasn’t at the fact that she fell asleep, the girls’ exhaustion was obvious. What shook you was that she ended up comfortably tucked against your side, her head leaning on your shoulder, and her gentle breaths tickling your neck. 

You took her Mac off of her lap and gently closed it, setting it aside on the bed while trying to avoid moving too much. 

It was late. If you were someone else, your parents might have expected you home by now. Might even be calling to find out where you were. Might have bothered to get the phone number of the person’s house you were going to in the first place. But you weren’t someone else and you were fairly confident that your presence wasn’t missed, nor would your absence be noticed. 

It was this thought process that pulled a deep sigh out of you which ended up waking Regina. She sat up with a bit of a start and glanced around her room and then back at you, and your shoulder, as she processed where she had positioned herself in her sleep-addled state.

“What… I fell asleep?” She furrowed her brows as she noticed the small trail of drool that had escaped the corner of her mouth. She wiped it away quickly and grumbled, “fucking Christ…” 

“Hey, it’s okay, you were tired. You should go back to sleep.” You started to scoot to the edge of the bed, intending to get up and get going so as to not prolong her embarrassment. 

The blonde, however, did not allow this. She reached out and grasped your wrist, “what are you doing?” 

You stared at her, “I… I’m gonna get out of your hair so you can rest.” 

“No!” Her cheeks flushed the second she realized how she sounded, “no… I mean… I can’t drive right now and I’m not letting you walk home when it’s this late. Just stay.” 

“Stay? You’re sure?” 

“Yeah…” she nodded, “of course, I’m sure. You can, right?” 

“I guess so… is there, like a guest room or a couch you want me on?” 

“What are you talking about? No, just stay here.” 

“What? Won’t that bother you?” 

“No, dummy. Clearly I was able to sleep just fine with you here,” she tried to stop it but Regina couldn’t help but yawn and it made you smile. It was cute. 

“Just,” she fought to speak through the yawn, “grab some clothes you can sleep in out of my closet and then get back in bed…” 

“Regina, are you-“ 

“Shut up. Yes, I’m sure.” She started shoving decorative pillows off of the bed and then slid under the covers and collapsed onto her own pillow. “And hurry up and turn the light off on your way back.” 

You watched her close her eyes and you knew there was no more back and forth to be had. You walked over to Regina’s closet and eventually found a drawer containing a mixture of old summer camp t shirts and knit shorts so you hastily changed into them, turned off the bedroom light, and crawled into Regina’s bed, opposite from her. 

You pulled the covers over yourself and exhaled. Her bed was so comfortable it was insane. It was insane for anyone to have a bed this nice.

And how did her bed smell so good, too? Did the linens get washed every day? You nuzzled your face into the pillow and breathed in. It wasn't a laundry detergent smell, it just smelled like her. 

You closed your eyes and got comfortable. You could hear Regina’s breathing slow down next to you and then you heard her whisper, “‘night.” 

“G’night, Regina.” 

You had the most peaceful sleep of your life. You didn’t know when you last slept in past 8 am at the latest. But at 10 am on this Sunday morning at the George’s, you were still blissfully unaware of the world. 

It wasn’t until you felt motion in the bed that you started to come to. Your eyes cracked open just slightly and were met with an expanse of blonde hair. 

That was weird. 

Your senses clarified quickly then and you realized that your arm was draped over a body, that the body’s back was against your front, that yours and the body’s legs were intertwined. 

You were squarely in the center of your pillow, though. It was the other body that had shifted in the night. Her half of the bed was empty and her bottom arm splayed across her pillow, which she had abandoned in favor of taking the edge of yours. 

The girl took a deep breath and shifted slightly again, rubbing one of her legs against yours. 

You didn’t know what to do. Waking her would mean confronting this situation right now. Pretending not to notice and going back to sleep felt like it would be violating somehow… you ultimately decided the former was better. 

Gently, you gave her upper arm a slight shake and whispered, “Regina… hey, Regina…” 

She grumbled but didn’t wake up. 

You tried again, “Regina… Gina…” 

The blonde sniffled and groaned, “whattime’sit?” 

“Uh… I don’t know,” you answered, “Regina, you’re…” 

She woke up a little more, felt you so close to her, felt that she wasn’t entirely on her side of the bed. She started to sit up. 

“We must’ve-“ 

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” Regina sat up the rest of the way and pushed your arm off of her, “this was a mistake.” 

You sat up, too, startled by this reaction, “Regina wait, it’s fine-“ 

“No, shut up. My mom can’t see us like this. You need to get up.” 

“Regina, hold on-“ 

“Are you listening?” She hissed, “get up. Now. This was stupid, my fault for having you stay in the bed. We’re going to get dressed and I’m driving you home.” The blonde got out of her bed and beelined for her vanity where she quickly sat down and began harshly brushing through her hair. 

You stood up and took a few steps across the room to go be by her, “Regina, wait, can we talk about this?” 

She looked at you through the mirror and she frowned, “no. We can’t. Get changed.” 

Ten minutes later, Regina was quietly ushering you out the front door of her house and unlocked her Jeep with a click of the key fob. She wordlessly got into her seat and buckled and waited for you to do the same, before backing out of her driveway and starting the route to your house. 

“Regina-“ 

“Whatever you might think last night was… it wasn’t, okay?” 

“What do you mean what I think? I… wait, Regina, I don’t understand. Why are you freaking out? It wasn’t a big deal.” 

“That’s easy for you to say, everyone already thinks you’re a lesbian.” 

“What?”

Regina stepped on her brake as a yellow light turned red and then she turned to face you. 

“That can’t happen again. You can tutor me. You can come to my house like I promised. But that cannot happen again.” 

“But WHAT happened?!” You didn’t mean to shout at her, but you were panicking. 

Regina stared at you. A car behind you honked because the light had turned green. She clenched her jaw and focused on the road again. 

“Pull over.” 

“No.”

“Pull over, Regina.” 

She didn’t respond but she turned her blinker on and pulled to the side of the road and parked on the shoulder. 

“I’m not going home until you tell me what the fuck is going on right the fuck now.” 

She looked at you silently. Her face and eyes were red, like she was on the brink of tears.

Your expression softened, “Regina, please.” 

“You don’t get it, do you?” 

“Obviously not.” 

The blonde sighed and dropped her face into her hands, “for someone who is so smart, you are so stupid…” 

“Then make it make sense. Please.” 

She took a deep breath and then sat back up, rubbing her eyes as she did so, “you’re so sweet… of course you don’t get it.” She faced you then and she looked more upset than you’d seen her, “it was on purpose… I… I wanted to cuddle with you.” 

“You… okay… so?” 

“That’s a bad thing!” 

“Why? Because I’m a nerd?” 

“No! Because you’re not a guy! I can’t like you… like that…” 

You just stared at her. 

“Say something!” 

“I don’t know what to say!” 

“I can’t get that close to you… not again… I can’t… my family can’t know… the school can’t know that… that…” 

“That you might like girls?” 

“That I do like girls. That I only like girls. I’m not out and I can’t come out and so I sure as hell can’t let what happened happen again because… because I…” 

You waited for her to continue. 

“Because I… will want it to keep happening… and then I won’t be able to stop it…” 

“Wait, so… so I don’t get a say? I just… I just have to do whatever the fuck you tell me to… you get to tell me this and then it’s just over? There’s no trying? What if I liked cuddling with you? What if I felt the same way?” 

“Stop. You can’t say stuff like that… you…” Regina started to shake, gasping for air in rapid and shallow breaths as her eyes started to water, “you can’t… I c-can’t… I can’t be… with you… you can’t like me… I can’t-t I can’t…” she was hyperventilating. You reached out and tried to hold her shoulders but she shook you off, smacking your hands away. 

“Regina, breathe… breathe…” you reached for her again only to be met with the same resistance, “no, no. Let me.” You leaned across the center console and wrapped your arms around her in a tight hug. 

Regina gripped your forearm in her hands and squeezed hard. Her manicure pressed crescent moons into your skin and her knuckles were white with the force of her grasp, but you only squeezed her tighter and whispered into her ear, “breathe… just breathe… you’re okay… breathe… come on, now… breathe in… and breathe out… in… out…” 

It took a minute but eventually she followed your instructions and her body started to relax. Her breathing slowed. She coughed and took a deep, but shaky, breath. 

You pressed your forehead against her temple and kept your arms around her while she still held tight to you. 

“I can’t do this…” 

“You can’t do what?”

Regina just shook her head in refusal to answer. 

“Regina… what would make you happy?” 

“That doesn’t matter…” 

“Yes it does. That’s the only thing that matters.”

“No… no…” 

“Regina… look at me.” 

She shook her head in defiance.

“Please?” 

She didn’t respond. 

You reached out and gently tucked your index finger beneath her chin, turning her head to face you, “what would make you happy, Regina?” 

She met your eyes, nothing short of terror written in her expression. She thought for a long moment and then whispered, “I’ve never… felt as free… as I felt last night… with you…” 

You nodded, your own expression saddened by the seriousness of her statement. 

She took another shuddering breath in, “but it’s always going to come crashing down…”

“No… no, come on… it doesn’t have to… can we try… can we please try to figure this out? Together?” 

Regina bit her bottom lip and shook her head, fighting back tears, “n-no… I’m sorry… I can’t. I can’t do this.” 

“Regina-“ 

She pushed your arms away again and then cleared her throat as she pulled her visor down and dabbed her eyes and fixed her hair. 

You stared at her in shock. 

She turned the car back on and pulled back out onto the road. 

“Regina… Regina, please.” 

She shook her head, “I’m taking you home. I’m sorry.” 

“This is fine.” 

“But this isn’t anywhere.” 

“It’s close enough.” 

The blonde glanced over at you, about to ask further questions, but then she just nodded and pulled over. 

You unbuckled and grabbed your backpack off the floor of the car and tried to open the door but she hadn’t unlocked it for you yet. 

“I really am sorry.” 

“Forget it, okay?” 

The blonde frowned. 

“Are you gonna let me out or not?” 

Regina clicked the button to unlock the doors and you got out of the car. Before walking away, you looked at her again, “wait, your chemistry quiz…” 

Regina sighed, “I’ll be fine. I… I just wanted you to come over.”

Next Chapter

[nomie-11]

Chapter 12 - Above the Clouds, Beneath the Earth

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The sky was still dark, still full of stars, when Genevieve woke up in the morning. Tairn had promised her an early morning flight, so she could see the sunrise from his back, above the clouds and mountains. She made sure to be quiet as she snuck out of her room, her steps light as she opened the door. 

“AH!” She yelped, jumping out of her skin when she opened the now locked door to her bedroom, just to find Liam sitting outside of the door. “What in Gods’ name are you doing outside my door!? Isn’t your room right next to mine?” 

But clearly Xaden had other plans for her. 

“Xaden wants a centinel outside your door at night until he can trust that you actually lock your doors, so here I am,” Liam shrugged, stretching the stiffness and sleep out of his body. “Garrick, Bodhi, Xaden, and I, all take shifts,” He paused, looking up at Genevieve in the doorway. “Do you think Violet will like this figurine I made of Astrape?”

The little wooden figurine in his palm was adorable, but Genevieve was too focused on the fact that she had a guard now. 

“This is insanity, go back to your room,” Genevieve started, her tone final, but Liam didn’t move. “I don’t need a guard sitting outside of my room at night. We’ve already discovered that I can handle myself.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Liam says, his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just here because Xaden asked me to. If anything, shoot Xaden.” 

“I’m not going to shoot Xaden or you,” she groaned, running a hand over her face. It’s too cold outside to be thinking harder than with slight reasoning, and all she wanted was to go outside and ride her dragon into the sunrise, but no. “Can you just let me go outside now?”

Liam laughed, his voice light as he stood up. 

“Alright, alright,” He said, moving away from her doorway. “But I’m coming with you.”

“What? Why?” Genevieve asked, exasperated by the circumstances. “I’ll be with Tairn. I won’t die.”

“I have a dragon, too, you know. You’ll never know I was even there if that’s what you want. I’m just going to come with you.” 

Genevieve ran a hand through her hair, trying to suppress her irritation. She could already feel the familiar pressure of the day beginning to weigh on her, despite the dark sky and the promise of escape on Tairn’s back. 

“You’re not going to let me fly alone, are you?” she asked, although she already knew the answer. 

Liam smiled, his expression a mix of amusement and apology, but so charming that it usually disarmed people. “Not a chance. Xaden would have my head. Besides, a little company will do you good, and you still get your sunrise.”

“That’s not the point,” she muttered, crossing her arms, her mind racing for a way out. “I just… I need some space, Liam. Some time to breathe.” 

Liam’s smile faltered slightly, his eyes softening with understanding. “I get it. Really, I do. But Xaden is just trying to look out for you. After what happened… Well, no one’s going to take any chances. Especially not him.” 

Genevieve clenched her jaw. Of course. The incident with the cadets. She’d killed three people in her own room. Lost control. And now everyone saw her as a ticking time bomb. She sighed, gesturing for Liam to step into her room as she returned to grab her flight gear. 

The thought of Xaden assigning her a gear, after everything that had already happened, filled her with a simmering annoyance. She had survived captivity, trained under the most brutal conditions, and yet here he was–deciding she needed to be babysat. But then again, after the incident with the cadets and her newfound, uncontrollable powers, maybe Xaden had a point. Not that she’d admit it. 

Train’s voice rumbled in her mind, low and slightly amused. “It’s not the worst idea. You haven’t exactly mastered your abilities yet, and neither of us wants a repeat of what happened yesterday.” 

“I don’t need a reminder,” she shot back, pulling on her boots. “And I don’t need a guard either. This is ridiculous.” 

“Perhaps,” Train replied, his tone nonchalant. “But would it kill you to let someone have your back?” Genevieve paused at that, staring at her reflection in the small mirror above her dresser. Her eyes were tired, the dark circles under them a reminder of sleepless nights and endless battles–both physical and emotional. The truth was, she had spent so long relying on herself, fighting her own demons in silences, that the idea of someone else watching her back felt foreign. And maybe a little too dangerous. 

She shoved the thought aside and grabbed her jacket, throwing it over her shoulders as she stepped to the doorway where Liam was waiting. He was leaning against the doorframe, inspecting the figurine of Astrape. 

“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered. 

Liam grinned, pushing off the wall and falling into step beside her as they made their way to the flight field. 

“Just so you know, I don’t snore,” he said casually. 

Genevieve raised an eyebrow. “And why would I need to know that?” 

“Because I have a feeling Xaden’s going to keep this little guard situation going for a while,” Liam teased. “You might as well get used to me being around.” 

“You are not sleeping in my room,” she grumbled, her responses a low growl as they reached the flight field. But the moment her eyes caught sight of Tairn, the irritation melted away. His massive form was silhouetted against the faintest hint of dawn on the horizon, his dark scales shimmering under the starlight. There was a quiet power in his presence, and for a moment, Genevieve felt the weight of everything lift–just a little. 

Tairn dipped his head as she approached, his golden eyes gleaming. “Ready?” 

Genevieve nodded, feeling the familiar surge of excitement at the thought of flying. She placed her hands against his warm scales, and with a fluid motion, climbed onto his back. 

Liam followed suit, his dragon appearing from the shadows with a low rumble. Deigh was smaller than Tairn, but no less impressive. Her sleek, red body cutting through the early morning as she stood proud for Liam to mount. 

“Try to keep up,” Genevieve called out over her shoulder, a faith smile tugging at her lips. 

Liam laughed, unbothered. “Race you to the clouds.” 

With a sharp motion, both dragons launched into the air, their wings beating powerfully against the cold morning wind. Genevieve held tight to Tairn as they soared higher, the ground quickly disappearing beneath them. The sky opened up before them, vast and endless, and for the first time in days, she felt free. 

As they climbed above the clouds, the horizon began to glow with the first light of dawn. Breaking through the clouds, the sky opened up before them in a blaze with colors–deep purples, fiery oranges, and soft pinks blending together in a breathtaking display. Genevieve’s heart swelled at the beauty of it all. The stars reflected the twinkling of her heart as she laid back and watched them disappear in the light. 

For now, there was just the sky, the wind, and the sunrise. 

“You fly, and the world falls away,” Tairn murmured in her mind. 

And that was exactly what she needed. A moment where the weight of her responsibilities could disappear, even if it was just for a little while. She could pretend, up in the clouds, that she wasn’t a spy, that her heart wasn’t constantly torn between loyalty, revenge, and something far more dangerous. 

Up here, she was just Genevieve. No spies. No traitors. No guards, except for Liam who kept true to his promise of keeping his distance. Just her and Tairn, flying free. 

“You will always have this,” Tairn whispered, his voice a comforting rumble. “No one can take this from you.”

But as the sun rose, a part of her knew it was only a matter of time before she had to come back down. Back to reality, back to Xaden confusing her heart, back to lies and half-truth that filled every corner of her life. 

————————————————-

“Hale!” Professor Carr exclaimed, a sickening expression of joy and excitement on his face. “It’s our first signet training lesson one on one! Isn’t this exciting?” 

“Call me Genevieve,” She said, her voice snapping. 

His eyes flashed with annoyance. 

“I just want to see what you can do today, especially since you tried to hide your signet from me.” He said, and his voice was sickeningly soft and sweet. A horrible contrast to the man who used to spit at her when she was captive. “I knew that with a dragon like Tairn you would be powerful.” 

Genevieve nodded, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. 

Her squad and Xaden had tried to keep her signet under wraps, tried to make sure that no one knew how dangerous she was becoming, but it's hard to hide the vines that seem to always be creeping up her legs every time she stood still for too long, and it's hard to hide the flowers that bloomed after every step she took on ground besides stone and wood. 

“We’re going to start your training with a simple test,” Professor Carr said, his voice dripping with condescension. “You see, I want to feel what you can do. Unleash your signet, Hale. Let’s see if you can handle it without, well…” He paused for dramatic effect, grinning like a predator, “killing anyone this time.” 

Genevieve’s jaw clenched, the memory of the cadet’s lifeless bodies flashing through her mind. Her fingers twitch involuntarily, and she balled them into fists to keep the vines from appearing too soon. 

“Relax, Hale,” Carr crooned, stepping closer. His presence felt suffocating, too familiar. “Or should I say Genevieve? You were so much more… compliant under General Sorrengail’s care. Have you forgotten how to be obedient?” 

Her heart pounded in her chest, a wave of nausea rolling over her as the memories of her captivity rushed back—the dungeon, General Sorrengail’s smile, the darkness that seemed to swallow her whole. But she wasn’t that girl anymore. She had Tairn now. She had power.

And yet, that power terrified her more than Carr ever could. And she needed him to learn how to control it. 

So, taking a deep breath, she focused on the ground around her, willing the vines to stay dormant, and for the ones she had already sprouted to retreat back into the earth. In her mind, the image of their threads of life were woven back into the blanket of the earth instead of manipulated into her own thread of life. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But she could already feel them stirring, breaking out of her weak control, responding to her rising anger. 

“Go ahead,” Carr taunted, his voice a low whisper. “Show me what Lilith’s little pet has become.”

Genevieve snapped. Her vision blurred as the ground beneath her cracked open, vines erupting from the earth, spiraling towards Carr with a speed that startled even her. He flinched, his smug grin faltering as the tendrils coiled around his feet, tightening with each passing second. 

Tairn’s voice echoed in her mind, a deep, rumbling presence. “Control it, little soldier. Don’t let him bait you.”

But the vines continued to rise, dark flowers blooming in their wake, their petals shimmering with an unnatural sheen. Carr’s eyes widened in fear, and for a moment, Genevieve relished the panic in his expression. 

“Stop this!” Carr said, forcing his voice to be strong, but his eyes gave way to the terror that her vines were causing. All the arrogance was drained from his face as the vines twisted higher, nearing his throat. 

Genevieve hesitated, her breath ragged, the fury coursing through her veins like wildfire. She could end this. She could make him pay for every moment of her suffering, for every cruel word and sickening smile. 

But something inside her wavered. This wasn’t who she wanted to be. She wasn’t General Sorrengail. She wasn’t a monster. Even if she wanted to kill him, he’s the only man alive who is trained to figure out how signets work. She needs him. 

With a sharp inhale, she closed her eyes and willed the vines to release. Slowly, they retreated, slithering back into the earth, the flowers withering and crumbling into dust as she took life back. 

Carr stumbled back, his face pale with shock. But his grin was sinister, evil almost. 

“Good, Hale,” He said, his voice disgustingly shallow. “Do it again. Focus on that target,” he gestured to a dummy across the field from her. “And will those vines to fight. Life Weaving is about giving life and taking it too.” 

Genevieve's hands trembled as she released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. The ground still felt alive beneath her feet, pulsing with energy, but she wasn’t ready to unleash it again. Not yet. She had to remember her goal—control. She was no use to anyone if she couldn’t rein in her power, no matter how satisfying it would be to strangle the life out of Carr. 

Her eyes flickered toward the dummy, its lifeless form a far cry from the man in front of her, yet it stirred the same sick sense of hatred. Life and death, she thought, a bitter taste on her tongue. Carr made it sound so simple, so mechanical, but it wasn’t just life and death. It was everything in between. 

“You think this is some kind of game?” She snapped, eyes narrowing at Professor Carr. “I’m not your puppet.” 

His eyes flickered toward her, still carrying that disgusting amusement, but now there was a trace of something darker beneath it. Fear. “Oh, but you are, Hale. You’re the best weapon we’ve ever had, and deep down, you know it. That’s why General Sorrengail kept you locked up. You’re dangerous. Even she knew you would become something she couldn’t control.” 

Genevieve’s chest tightened at his words, the weight of them pressing against her ribs. She had spent over a year under Lilith’s thumb, every day a reminder of how powerless she’d felt. And now, here she was, faced with the power she had always dreamed of, but the cost of wielding it felt heavier than she’d imagined. 

Carr’s eyes flickered to the dummy in the distance. “You need to understand your abilities. Control means understanding when to take and when to give. That’s the difference between you and General Sorrengail. She knew exactly how much she could take before she had to give something in return.” 

Genevieve gritted her teeth. Lilith had been methodical, cold, ruthless—but she wasn’t the General. She wasn’t going to become her. 

But the vines, they were an extension of her now. She could feel them, like a second pulse under her skin, ready to spring forth at her command. Carr was right about one thing: she needed control or the power would consume her. 

“I think you underestimate how much I’m holding back,” Genevieve shot back, her voice cold as ice. 

Tairn’s presence surged in her mind, steady and grounding. “You control this. Don’t let him get under your skin. He wants you to lose control—don’t give him the satisfaction.”

But Carr’s smug expression was a taunt all on its own, every word out of his mouth pushing her closer to that edge. She turned her gaze to the dummy, focusing her power, trying to draw on the same force she’d just unleashed without letting it overwhelm her. Her palms grew warm, the air around her humming with tension as the earth stirred once more. Vines snake from the ground, slower this time, more deliberate. She focused on each tendril, guiding them towards the target. 

“Faster,” Carr barked. “You’re not weaving life, you're playing with it like a child. Do it again.” 

Genevieve’s control faltered as his words cut through her concentration. Her pulse quickened, and the vines sped up, twisting violently as they reached the dummy, wrapping around its wooden form. The flowers bloomed again, dark and deadly, their petals shimmering under the sun. She gritted her teeth, trying to rein them in before they consumed everything in sight. 

“Better,” Carr said, stepping closer, inspecting her work. “But not good enough. You’re holding back, Genevieve. You can feel it, can’t you? That raw power waiting just beneath the surface. Stop trying to control it—unleash it. Or are you afraid of what you might become?” 

She glared at him, chest heaving as she fought to maintain control. “I know exactly what I’ll become if I let go.” 

“Oh?” Carr leaned in, his voice a low whisper. “And what’s that? A monster? A Weapon? Something worse?”

Her heart pounded in her ears, and for a moment, the weight of his words pressed down on her. The vines tightened around the dummy, cracking the wood as they constricted, and she felt the pull—an urge to push further, to let the vines spread, to tear the whole training field apart if she wanted. 

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. She had to master this power, not let it master her. With a fierce breath, she released the vines, letting them fall limp at the base of the dummy. Her fingers twitched, but she forced herself to stay still, refusing to rise to Carr’s bait. 

“Again.” He said, sneering the words between gritted teeth. 

And she complied, sticking the target again and again, over and over until the fire simmering underneath her skin exploded. 

Her skin radiated heat, and it felt as if she was being struck by lightning. She was nearing burnout, her own body resembling more of a skeleton than a human as she struck again. 

“You need to stop,” Tairn bellowed, his voice strict and commanding. Genevieve’s breathing came in ragged gasps, each strike against the target sapping her strength. The air around her crackled with energy, the heat of her signet flaring wildly as she neared burnout, her control slipping. Her skin felt like it was burning from the inside out, the raw power coursing through her veins a searing reminder of just how dangerous she could become. Each command from Carr grove her further, pushing her to the brink of her limits. 

“Stop,” Tairn’s voice thundered in her mind, filled with urgency and concern. “You’re on the edge. You’re reaching burnout, you will die if you continue.” 

But Carr’s sneer only grew more pronounced as he watched her struggle. “You see, Genevieve? This is what true power looks like. You are destructive because of this power.” 

Genevieve’s vision blurred, her hands shaking uncontrollably as the vines grew. She collapsed to her knees. She could feel the power inside her building to an unbearable level, and it was all she could do to keep herself from breaking down completely. The dummy was barely recognizable now, its wooden frame splintered and covered in thick, dark vines. 

“No,” she managed to croak, her voice barely audible over the roar of her own power. “I need to stop.” 

The intensity of her power was reaching a critical mass, and she felt as if she was teetering on the edge of a precipice. If she went any further, she might not be able to pull back. The threat of losing control was real, and it made her shiver despite the heat radiating from her. 

“Genevieve, focus on me.” Tairn’s presence was a grounding force in the chaos, a beacon of calm amidst the storm. “Let go of the anger, and find the balance. You can do this.” 

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out Carr’s taunts and the searing heat that was making her feel faint. She visualized the threads falling back, weaving themselves back into the earth. The flowers wither away, back into the pattern of the world. She willed herself to find the center of her own power, to channel it into control rather than destruction. 

With a supreme effort of will, she forced the vines to recede, letting them unravel from the dummy and and sink back into the earth. The heat slowly dissipates from her body, leaving her weak and trembling. Her knees sunk into the now plush grass beneath her. 

When she finally opened her eyes, Carr was staring at her with a mixture of disdain and grudging respect. “That was a start. We will do more next lesson.” His words were clipped and cruel. “You have potential, but potential means nothing if you can’t harness it. You’re a force of nature. Learn to control it, or it will control you.: 

Genevieve nodded, her breath coming in shaky gasps. “I understand.” 

Carr’s lips curled into a thin smile. “Good. Remember, power is a double-edged sword. Wield it wisely.”

As he walked away, Genevieve sank further into the ground, laying on her back as she let the grass grow around her, her strength finally giving out. Tairn’s comforting presence enveloped her, a soothing balm to the raw edges of her psyche. She took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to regain her composure. 

“You did well,” Tairn said softly, though there was an undercurrent of concern in his voice. “He will be here soon, to take you from this field.” 

Genevieve didn’t respond, she just closed her eyes and nodded, letting the late November sun warm her shocked body.

Xaden was coming to save her, again.  

Genevieve lay motionless on the soft grass, her body aching from the strain of her power, every muscle screaming in protest. The earth around her felt as if it was responding to her exhaustion with a gentle embrace, the vines and grass curling around her limbs protectively held her close. It was a small comfort, the only one she had as her mind raced with the lingering sting of Carr’s words. 

A force of nature. She wasn’t sure if she liked the sound of that. It implied something wild, uncontrollable. And she couldn’t afford to be either. 

Tairn’s presence was still there, steady and reassuring, but even he felt distant now, his concern threading through their bond but not overwhelming her. She needed space to breathe, to think, to push away the fear of what she would become. 

But despite everything, her body betrayed her with trembling hands and ragged breaths. Carr had pushed her too far, too fast, and she wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to keep her promise to herself. Control seemed so far out of reach when the anger surged so easily, when every moment was a battle to hold back the power bubbling beneath her skin. 

A soft crunch of boots on grass made her heart jump. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know who it was–Xaden’s presence was unmistakable, a dark cloud of tension that always followed him, but today there was something softer in the way he approached, the usual hard edge dulled by worry. 

“Gen,” his voice was low, a mixture of anger and concern as he knelt beside her. “What the hell did he do to you?” 

She opened her eyes slowly, her vision clouded with exhaustion, but even through the haze, she could see the barely restrained fury in his expression. His jaw was clenched, his dark eyes scanning her face as if he could will her back to strength through sheer force.

“Pushed me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “He wanted… control. He wanted me to break.” 

Xaden’s face darkened, his hands hovering beside her as if he didn’t know whether to pull her into his arms or to give her space to breathe “You’re not broken,” he said firmly, the intensity in his voice making her chest tighten. “He doesn’t get to win.” 

A weak smile tugged at her lips, though it faded quickly as the reality of her body’s limitations set in. “Feels like he did.” 

He waited for a moment, his eyes looking into hers, searching for some semblance of an answer for whether or not she was ok with him touching her. If she felt as if he would die if he got too close, he would back off, wait until she was strong enough to walk on her own and walk with her to her bedroom. But if not-

“It’s ok,” she muttered, her voice strained and tired. “I know I won’t kill you, not anymore. I see the threads now.” 

Without hesitation, Xaden gently slid his arms under her, lifting her from the ground with ease. The vines that had wrapped around her limbs loosened, as if sensing she was safe now, retreating back into the earth. His warmth enveloped her, and for the first time in hours, she allowed herself to lean into it, to let the weight of her exhaustion melt into him. Resting her head on his chest, she breathed in, and the scent of mint and leather condition filled her senses. She sighed contently, Xaden smelled like safety. 

“I’m going to talk to him,” Xaden muttered, his voice low and dangerous as he carried her away from the training field. 

“Not today,” she breathed, the effort of speaking draining her already depleted strength. “We need him… as much as I hate it.”

His arms tightened around her, a silent acknowledgement of the truth in her words, even if it killed him to admit it. She could feel the tension rolling off of him and into their bond, the barely contained rage he was holding back for her sake. But she wasn’t blind to this protectiveness that had bloomed between them, the way he was willing to save her even when she couldn’t save herself. 

“Rest,” he murmured, his voice softer now as they moved closer to the buildings of Basgiath and away from the fields, the chaos of the day fading into the background. “I’ll wake you when it’s time for dinner. We’ll figure this out.” 

Genevieve nodded, and closed her eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull her into a sense of calm she hadn’t felt in weeks. 

For now, she would rest. For now, she would let him carry her. 

—----------------------------------------------------------

 The rest of November passed in a blink of an eye, leaving in a blur of shadows and strain. Genevieve spent twice a week from mid-November to mid-December with professor Carr in special private sessions, aimed to help her get control with her power, but with each lesson, it felt as if she was getting weaker. Losing control. 

In the dimly lit sparring gym, Geneviev and Violet squared off, their staffs made contact with a series of sharp, resounding thwacks. With the force of the blow, Genevieve winced, her arms jolting. Her arms felt like glass, her bones weak.

“I think you’ve been doing too much giving,” Violet says, her breaths heavy and labored. “Maybe it’s time to take some life, too.”

“I’m not going to kill someone because I feel weak, Violet,” Genevieve bit, but the harshness in her words was masked by the concern Violet exuded. 

“You look like a skeleton, have you seen yourself?” Rhiannon points out. “Your eyes are completely sunken in and you’ve lost weight. You were skinny to begin with but it’s like your signet is eating away at you. You need something.”

Genevieve groans in annoyance, rolling her eyes. “I know, but last time Carr made me take life it felt as if I was draining the Earth from its pulse. And I can barely sleep after I do it. Not to mention I can’t even lock my door without freaking out so Liam sleeps outside my door and I feel so bad.”

“About that…” Liam trails off, looking away sheepishly. “I talked to Xaden the night you figured out I was doing that so he may or may not have warded your room so that only you can open it.” He stopped, and Genevieve blinked blankly. “It’s not like it’s locked! It just can’t be opened!”

Genevieve stared at Liam, incredulously. “That’s the same thing!”

“No it’s not like that,” he shook his head in protest, face flushed. “You can still get out anytime, just no one can get in.” 

“Genevieve, you need rest,” Rhiannon pushed gently, her brow furrowed with worry. “No one’s saying you’re weak, but you can’t keep this up.”

But it was a weakness. Genevieve hated the way her body betrayed her, the way it had begun to recoil every time she drew on her signet. It gnawed at her, sucking her dry. Carr’s lessons were supposed to help, but they were slowly consuming her, leaving her feeling hollow.

“I can handle it,” she snapped, more to herself than to them.

“We all understand that signet training is hard-” Genevieve cut Violet off. 

“No, you don’t understand!” She exclaimed, her anger finally blowing over. “Your signet hasn’t manifested! Hell, you haven’t even started channeling!”

Violet immediately backed off, a flash of hurt and jealousy hitting her face like a bolt of lightning. 

“Genevieve! Violet has her struggles just like you. We’re all trying our best, be nice.” Rhiannon chastised as if she was talking to a misbehaving child. 

“Yeah you all have your struggles but you can’t relate to mine, so stop pretending like you can!” The wooden staff in her hands broke in half, And the break was quickly swallowed by creeping vines and dark flowers. The room fell into a stunned silence as the floral growth consumed the broken staff, the dark blooms spreading out like a living nightmare. 

Her friends watched in shocked silence, their fear palpable. Violet’s gaze was fixed on the floor, Rhiannon’s brows furrowed in distress, and even Liam’s usual calm was marred by discomfort. 

Between the threads that were constantly now in her vision, she could feel the walls around her growing once more. They thickened with every ounce of fear that the people around her exuded. Genevieve watched as her own heart broke into pieces, and was cemented into the wall around her. The wall that was once broken down and destroyed, allowing Rhiannon, Violet, Sawyer, Ridoc, and now Liam in, was firmly built up strongly once more. Blocking them out. 

Genevieve’s heart ached as the silence stretched. “You’re all afraid of me,” she said quietly, the hurt clear in her voice. “You’re afraid of what I might do, of what I could become.”

The silence that followed Genevieve’s words was thick, suffocating. Her friends shifted uneasily, but no one rushed to deny it. The air was heavy with the scent of the dark flowers that had sprouted from her shattered staff, the vines now curling menacingly around the gym floor. She could feel it—their unease, their uncertainty. It pressed against her, invisible but undeniable, just as tangible as the walls she’d erected to keep them at a distance. 

“Everytime I look at you guys, I can see these threads connecting you to the Earth. And now I know how to keep myself from snapping those threads with what little control I have of my signet, but even despite this control that I’ve managed to grasp from nothing, you all look at me as if one wrong move and I’ll snip your thread short.” She explained, her voice shaking as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “I can feel it in the way you talk to me, the way you look at me as if I’m about to explode and take you all down with me.” 

Rhiannon’s lips parted, as if she wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. Her usual sharpness was softened by uncertainty. Violet opened her mouth, but closed it again, glancing at Liam, who stood tense beside her, his hands almost protectively clasped around her arm. No one rushed to reassure her, and that silence cut deeper than any words could have. 

“We’re not afraid of you,” Liam finally said, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. “We’re worried about you.” 

“That’s not true,” Geneveive’s eyes narrowed, her grip on the broken staff tightening. The flowers wrapped around it pulsed as if in tune with her anger. “You’re all terrified. I see it. And don’t you dare try to lie to me about it. I can practically feel your fear.” 

Rhiannon, ever the leader, took a cautious step forward, her hand extended “Genevieve, we’re not—”

“You’re lying and you know it!” Genevieve cut her off, stepping back, the vines curling tighter around her feet. “You say you’re worried, but I can feel the space between us growing every day. Don’t you think I notice how you all treat me now? Like I’m some problem waiting to be solved?” 

Rhiannon flinched, but held her ground. “We’re not lying. We don’t know how to help you. That’s all it is. But we care. We’re not afraid of you, we’re afraid of losing you.” 

Genevieve’s heart twisted at those words. She wanted to believe them, to cling to the hope that her friends hadn’t abandoned her, but the truth that she believed so deeply in her heart felt like a heavy stone lodged in her chest. She had lost them, in some way. That bond, that trust—they were fraying, and she didn’t know how to stop it. 

The threads that connected her to them, the ones she saw every time she used her signet, were so fragile. She feared that with one wrong move, she’d snap them, and they’d be gone for good. 

“You will lose me,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “At this rate, I’m losing myself.” 

Liam’s face fell, and for the first time, he looked truly helpless. “We don’t want that to happen. We’re trying to be here for you, but…” 

“But what?” Genevieve pressed, her voice sharp again. “You don’t understand what it feels like. You don’t know what it’s like to have your own power drain the life from you. I can feel myself dying everyday. And when I take life, I can feel myself being filled with power again, being filled with life.” 

The admission hung in the air like a death sentence. Genevieve’s words, raw and unfiltered, spoke the truth of her power. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up,” she whispered, her voice cracked, full of fear and exhaustion. 

Her friends exchanged glances, tension thick between them. They couldn’t fully understand, but the weight of her words was clear. 

“Then let us help,” Violet said softly, stepping closer. “You don’t have to fight this alone, Genevieve.” 

Genevieve backed away, shaking her head. “You can’t help. I’m dangerous. One touch from me, and—”

Without hesitation, Liam closed the gap, grabbing her hand. His fingers wrapped firmly around hers, despite the faint pulse of energy beneath her skin. “We’re not afraid of you,” he said quietly, his grip steady. 

Rhiannon stepped forward, grabbing her other hand tightly. “When I say this you better believe me,” She paused, looking into Genevieve's eyes and searching for her confirmation. “We aren’t scared of you, Genevieve.“

Violet, not far behind, rested her hand on Genevieve’s arm. “You don’t have another hand, so I can’t hold it, but we trust you.” 

Genevieve’s breath caught. Her power hummed beneath the surface, but they didn’t pull away. The walls around her heart cracked, just a little. Maybe she wasn’t alone after all. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered. 

“You won’t,” Liam said, squeezing her hand. “We’ll figure this out. Together.” 

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

Hey guys!! How are you all? I just got an interview with my dream uni, so I'm doing pretty good (OMG I AM FREAKING OUT)!

On another note, I have reposted chapter 1, completely re-written with new information and just a lot better, because I definitely have grown as a writer since the start of the book. I'll be updating on the normal schedule, but also slowly posting the revised chapters as well.

As I re-write, please go back and read them (if you want to, of course), as I will be changing and adding things, so stuff will make more sense. Besides that, chapter 13 will be up either on sunday or saturday, so keep your eyes pealed for that (there will be smut)!

Let me know what you guys think! I'll see you all soon~

[pokequirks]

category: dumbair

katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

synopsis: katsuki getting serious, trip to korea and his concerns.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: +18.

note: second of category. third chapter of the series (should i make a masterlist?)

You two spent the rest of the morning together, at least what was left of it. Watching news, ordering food delivery and taking advantage of the free day that you both share. 

"I should turn on my phone" You said, heading to your belongins under Katsuki's gaze. Numerous buzzes and notifications. "Ah, shit..." You whisper.

"What's wrong?" Katsuki asks, clearly annoyed, being almost sure it was your shitty ex.

"Kijun, he's been calling like crazy" You sigh "I'll have to go to Korea."

Katsuki briefly felt like all that was built yesterday night was falling into pieces. What if you two made up? What if he finds a way to make you stay? What if he's again left there with a broken heart?

"I'm serius with you."

"Wanna go with me?"

You both speak at the same time. Katsuki's confussion and worriness disguised with his frown. Your gentle smile and eyes looking at him from above.

"I mean, if you want to go, we should sleep at my apartment. That motherfucker thinks he has some right over it".

"I'll talk to Deku,'' Katsuki said, standing and holding his phone. "I'm really serius with you. I don't want you to leave me here again for a shitty clown. Don't know how ya’ feel about marriage now, but in the future if you feel it's fine please let me know."

Katsuki finished and excused himself in order to call Deku and inform him about his trip with you and that he would be taking an extra day off, since he always took just one.

From the office Midoriya smiled happily for Katsuki and you. Finally taking place where you both belonged. With each other. Of course, he was alredy aware of the broken compromise between you and your Korean fianceé.

And you, you were left there thinking about marriage. Marriage with Katsuki. The sensation of hot cheeks as you thought about getting married to him. However, you know you have things to talk to a terapist and heal some others. So, yeah, you wouldn't probably think a lot about getting married in the near future.

For now you will only focus on being a good hero, reconnect with old friends and...

"It's done," Katsuki announced, getting out of his bedroom.

Him.

You and Katsuki had arrived at the café where you and Kijun had decided to speak. Quick kiss on his lips before separating, he going to a kinda far table, still in your vision range, and you sitting in front of the man that once was your fianceé.

"So in the end I was always right, huh?" He asks with a sarcastic tone in his voice.

"We remainded friends until the night I flew back after taking you out of my apartment" He clenched his jaw, "Katsuki fucked me really well that night and he'll do the same tonight."

"I think we should sell and split the money," he changes the subject "after all, it is under our names."

"You only paid the first two three months of maintenance fee, I gave the entrace and the rest of the apartment because you 'weren't a pro hero and didn't make as much money as me', am I wrong?"

"Ahg, then give me the car and the months I paid."

"You serious? I paid for the car, the only thing you paid was the insurance and this last month you asked me to pay it," Kijun throwed his head back and complained. On the other tables people started to whisper looking at your table. "Be an adult and keep it quiet."

"Then what do you want me to do? Wanna leave me here with nothing?"

"Even after what you did I do not wish you anything bad," you sighed "I suppose you're living with the journalist and I think I can sell you the car at market price minus the amount of insurance you have paid."

"I guess that's fine..."

You reunited with Katsuki after finishing the chat with your ex. He had finished his coffee and even took your recommendation on the strawberry cheesecake. He gave you the last bite as he saw that fucker heading out the café.

"Hey look at me," Bright green eyes looking at him, lashes bating and blushed cheeks "I love you, Tsukipie."

"Uhm? I love you too," he responds, caresing the palm of your hand "What deal did the shitman and you make?"

You playfully roll your eyes and look at him, "I'll sell him the car, I'm not gonna need it since I'll only come back in order to do community work in rural areas."

Katsuki hummed and nodded.

"You could come with me and take vacations at the farms."

"I would like that."

You took Katsuki to eat street food and convenience store noodles, things you usually eated while studying and working. Maybe that was the reason why you were able to save up a good amount of money. Been now aware of your bad habits during your living in Korea Katsuki wasn't really happy about it.

"Did you really eat this shit for years?"

"Yeah, and well, not like years, for field work we were sent to towns with farms and a metheorological agency," you explained "in my free time I went to these farms and help elders with rain and harvesting the crops."

"Sure they gave you marital proposses" Katsuki whispered as you two walked down the street to wait for the bus.

"Yeah," you giggle, holding his hand "I already had Kijun and before I had you..."

"You always had me, dumbair."

"You used to call me that before you fell with me!" You took a seat at the parade, Katsuki beside you.

"Yeah, ya fell with me too." 

"Yes, I did" You kiss one of his cheeks and giggle at the sight of rosy color in them.

You took out your phone, briefly going through news on the local main app and telling Katsuki about them, like the idol you like and showcases held. Until one catched Katsuki's attention.

"That one has your hero name."

"Uh?"

You click on it and it displays a whole article about your café visit. They called him your boyfriend and others actually revealed that he is Dynamight, the number 2 in Japan.

"What does it say about me?"

"That you're my boyfriend and hero number 2 in Japan, they put nice pics of you," you show him "my boyfriend is really handsome."

Bakugo proudly smiled at your commentary, of course he is. Katsuki saw the bus approaching and indicated to you to stand up.

Once at your apartment and before Katsuki entered the bathroom you took his wrist.

"Can we try something?"

Now you were both naked. Katsuki seated with oppened legs and hands on your ass as you devour his mouth and roll your hips over his tip. Tits at his neck level. Quiet moans on his lips as you work through your orgam.

"Wanna be inside...," He whispers, breaking the conection with your lips and taking care of your tits "so bad."

You hummed, feeling all over the place. Your hands running over his muscular shoulders and blonde hair, barely taking time to think before holding his dick and putting it inside you.

"Ah, fuck," you moan, hips rolling even harder until Bakugo cruelly holds your body still and pulls it againts him, "shit, Kats, let me..."

"Kats? Dunno him" he teases, sucking on your tits, "say my name, dumbair."

"Tsukipie, wanna come, please, Tsuki" You beg and he smiles at your desesperation.

He puts you down, legs on his shoulders as he violently penetrates your pussy, one hand messing with your clit and the other holding you still. You squirm under his touch, strong hold on the bed sheets, tears running down your cheeks and pleads comming out your lips.

"Oh my God, Katsuki!" You scream loudly and he pulls out finishing on your clit.

He touches you, your skin twitches at every little friction. Chest going up and down as you tried to recover. He comes to you after a while, starts cleaning his art on your pussy. Then he pulls you closer and you smell him.

"Tired," you whisper.

"Sleep baby, you were awesome," Katsuki whispers too and he leaves a kiss on your forehead.

Katsuki's eyes traveled to the window, he could see the moon shining. And you are lying by his side. He wondered how much that bliss was going to last, how much time you were going to be with him. Utterly concerned for the future, after all...

"Tsukipie..."

"Hum?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

☠️ Something Dread, Something Red: Chapter Eleven

Something Dread, Something Red: Stuck in a proposal to a Marine Commodore, you escape minutes before your wedding in one last ditch effort to avoid getting married to a tyrant. Barely making it to the port of your town, you stumble across a ship just starting to leave and beg for passage off the island. You fail to notice that the people you beg for help, are pirates.

Warnings: Language.

To Note: “Red Haired” Shanks x FemReader

Word Count: ~2.8k

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Looking out the window of the main cabin, you chew your lip as the nervous energy that has wracked your body since learning that Shanks and the men are going ahead with their plan grows until you feel nauseous. When you woke up this morning, you hoped the weather would be fair. Your hope is misplaced. The skies are gray, the clouds heavy, and moisture fills the air in an unpleasant fog. A bad thunderstorm is coming.

The moment you catch sight of the threatening weather, you hastily pull on your dressing gown and head below deck. You rush past the storage room to the officers' room, finding the senior officers along with Shanks discussing their plans for the nearby island. Not even three steps into the room, Shanks speaks before you can get a word in edgewise.

“This isn’t negotiable, Aria,” he states, not even bothering to look up from the map he’s studying. You presume it’s the map to the nearby island the Red Force will be docking at. Your pursed lips and clear disapproval of them heading out in what is clearly going to be terrible weather don’t even phase Shanks. “It’s our business, and we aren’t going to charge in head first without a plan or thought in our heads.”

You want to argue. You want to tell them to wait another day or at least until the weather lessens its incoming nasty threat. But it isn’t your place to tell them how to run their ship or their pirating. So you merely smother your sigh and watch as they file out of the room. Of course, you watch them lower the dinghy to the water and paddle off, leaving you behind with Hongo and Limejuice for company. That leaves you to take shelter in the main cabin when the first few drops start to fall, and it only gets worse as the morning goes on. Now you’re pacing around like a caged tiger.

A knock on the door pauses you in your step.

“Yes?” you call over the tinkering of rain and gusty wind. Hongo edges himself into the room, making sure not to let any of the rain follow him before closing the door. The ship’s doctor stares at you and wonders how you haven’t managed to wear a path in the floor with your pacing. You truly do look like a caged animal.

“You’ve been pacing a hole in the floorboards, Aria,” he comments, eyeing your body language. Stress is written all over your body. Rigid posture, inability to stand still, tightness in your face, jaw clenched. “He’s not going to do anything stupid, promise.”

“I’ve read the book on treating amputations, Hongo, so do not be inclined to dismiss my worries when I have every right to be so!” Your voice rises by the end of your tirade, and you let out a frustrated noise in the back of your throat. “I am well aware that his business is his business, and I do not seek to interfere, but the current weather conditions are exactly the type to trigger a reaction!”

“He knows what to expect if anything does happen, and the men will take care of him if he needs help.” You hug your body, his words not comforting you in the slightest.

“I have a bad feeling, and it is only getting worse,” you murmur, your eyes glancing out the window to the harsh waves rocking the ship. Whitecaps are everywhere, almost drowning out the usual beautiful cerulean waters you’ve come to love.

“Come on, you need your brain occupied, and staying cooped up in this room isn’t helping anyone.” Hongo announces, reaching for Shanks’ spare rain jacket hanging on the wall and tossing it to you. You catch it and give Hongo a skeptical look.

“And how do you propose I keep my brain occupied? I’ve spent all morning trying to, and nothing has worked.” You shoot back, fingers curling around the rain jacket.

“You wanna be useful?” Hongo broaches, deciding to play dirty. Your eyes narrow. You may have been raised sheltered and naive, but you’re not stupid, and you have quickly adapted to how the crew works.

“Fine,” you softly growl, yanking on the raincoat. It dwarfs your body, and the sleeves are too long, but you can smell the faint waft of sandalwood. Blast. There really is nothing you can do, and no amount of worry is going to bring Shanks back to the ship unharmed. Nothing but Shanks can do that. “You are being pathetic, Aria,” you mutter to yourself as you follow Hongo to the door.

“You say something?” Hongo asks, looking over his shoulder at you. Shit. Oops. You clear your throat and trot to the door.

“Just musing to myself,” you reply hurriedly, slipping past Hongo and out into the storm. Hunching over to protect your face from the rain, your feet dance over the wet deck to the door to the hull. Hongo follows you as you escape the torrential rain. Pulling down the hood of the raincoat, you take it off and leave it to hang dry by the door.

“So what is it that you are going to have me do to keep my brain occupied?”

Hongo doesn’t answer, just leads you through the ship until you reach the storage room. You haven’t been in the room yet, mostly because the men are afraid something might fall on top of you and hurt you. The room isn’t anything special, and you don’t expect anything special. It’s just walls with boxes stacked and strapped down.

“Considering how OCD Benn is about inventory, I doubt it needs to be done.” You say, running your finger along the decorative rim of a rather ostentatious chest. You wonder what’s inside it, but decide that you’re probably better off not knowing.

“No,” Hongo agrees before reaching for a box high up on a shelf. He carries it over to where you stand and sets it down on top of another box before taking the lid off. “But I ordered restock supplies, and they still need counting.”

“And Benn didn’t count them?” you query in surprise.

“He’s been too busy planning and organizing today’s trip.” You understand, but surprisingly, Benn is basically a second Captain on the Red Force as the first mate. Benn likes to keep track of everything, so whatever they’re doing in this horrible weather has to be extremely important. Why else would Shanks take an unnecessary risk? Or perhaps necessary—you have no idea what the gravity of his business is.

“If it will make me stop thinking about him, I am all for it,” you say, taking the clipboard from Hongo and perching yourself on a round barrel adjacent to the box. Hongo passes over a pencil to you before leaving you to take the inventory of supplies. It’s easy to fall into a pattern of picking out individual supplies and counting them in alphabetical order, starting with adhesive bandages.

Of course, there are several different shapes, sizes, and kinds, and you hand-count each and every one of them. Twice. Not because you fear you miscounted, but because focusing on the task at hand helps distract you from the reality that your gut is screaming that something bad is going to happen. Your only solace is that Shanks isn’t alone, and the men are capable of taking care of each other.

You complete the inventory of the medical supplies for Hongo, intentionally and methodically going slow. Hours pass, and the storm hasn’t lessened its rage outside. The nausea in your belly is almost a permanent resident before Limejuice convinces you that your stomach would feel better if you eat something. So you sit in the kitchen, nibbling on a few muffins you and Lucky made the day prior (it’s a miracle there are leftovers), listening to the howl of the wind.

“He said they’d be back before sunrise,” Limejuice says, breaking the tense atmosphere. Your gaze flickers to his, and you pause in picking away at your muffin.

“Sunrise,” you repeat, almost sighing at the thought. It is far from comforting. “You do realize that means they are out in that storm overnight with who knows what on that island in the middle of the night. Gods, they might be stumbling around in the dark right now turned around ass backward!” You huff, and Limejuice nearly spits out his sip of beer.

You never curse. Ever. The men of the Red Force have done their best to curb their language when you are around, not because you are of noble birth but because you are a woman. With your upbringing, most of them figure not even a single curse would pass through your lips. Apparently, they are wrong. Limejuice chuckles because your overly formal language is usually only present when you are uncomfortable or out of place. You swearing means that you truly feel comfortable on the ship but also very worried.

“And that’s why Building Snake went with them,” he tells you, making a point that if the navigator of the ship is with them, they won’t get lost. “And the only one navigationally challenged is Bonk Punch. Good at playing music, navigation and following a map? Not so much.” That makes your lips twitch. “How about this, we’ve had dinner, and it’s dark, wet, and cold outside. Want a cup of tea? I don’t do much cooking, but I know how to brew a pot.”

“I would like that, thank you, Limejuice.” The older man smiles and gets up to fix the pot of tea for you. At this point, he and Hongo have a feeling that you aren’t going to be able to sleep, let alone entertain the idea of going to bed until the men are back. So after Limejuice fixes you a pot of tea, he leaves to get some sleep while you remain in the kitchen with a lantern. You don’t know where Hongo has gone—hopefully getting some sleep—but you aren’t sure.

Sipping your tea, you stare at the flickering light in the gas lamp on the table. Even surrounded by the sounds of harsh rain and wails of wind, you can still hear yourself think, and you hate that. Haven’t you spent the entire day thinking? The entire day worrying? You drop your head into your hand with a soft groan.

“Please just get back already,” you softly murmur, massaging your forehead. “I hate waiting.” But waiting is all you can do. Your eyes burn. You feel like nodding off. You are shivering from the coldness of the air. Getting up from the table, you grab Shanks’ raincoat and pull it back on, snuggling into the material for warmth. Just as you turn to head back to the table, you catch sight of something moving outside the window. You do a double take until you recognize the form of Gab climbing over the side of the ship.

Snatching the lantern, you rush outside, your body buffered by wind and rain. The shy pirate drops to the deck and begins prepping the plank while you tear out of the kitchen and across the deck, lantern raised.

“Gab!” you call over the wailing and rain splattering your face in sharp bites. The pirate glances over his shoulder in surprise, not expecting you to be up but at the same time not surprised that you are there. You haven’t been happy about them heading out in this weather. “Cap’n’s sick!” he calls to you, knowing that it is far better to tell you now than try to hide the truth. Your stomach drops as more of the crew appears, Yasopp and Bonk Punch carrying a few boxes while Benn supports a limp Shanks.

“What the hell happened!?” you ask, moving back as the men clamber onto the ship.

“Flare up after a fight,” Lucky Roux explains while Benn hauls Shanks onto the ship. “Weather got to him, and the phantom pains came back.” You have half a mind to yell at them but realize that yelling won’t change the current circumstances.

“Has this happened before?” you ask, eyebrows drawing together in worry while Benn drags the unconscious man toward the lower deck stairs.

“Occasionally. He just needs rest,” Benn grunts. “Just needs to sleep it off. Probably’ll get a fever, too.” You let out an exasperated screech. Shanks is practically unconscious and no doubt in pain, and they are just going to put him in a hammock!?

“Then put him in his bed!” you shout over the rain. “He needs his bed, not a hammock!!” The men freeze in place for a few precious seconds as you glare at them. Then, with an exaggerated movement, you point towards the main cabin. “Now.” Your words are obliged, and Benn switches routes from the stairs to the main cabin door, you hurrying after him.

The main cabin, while always feeling spacious, now feels crowded as Benn, Lucky Roux, and Building Snake help their captain out of his soaked clothes and into the bed you have slept in for over a month. You are too worried to be gawking at the shirtless man.

“Should we get Hongo?” you ask when they begin filing out, making it clear that they would be leaving Shanks alone. Benn shakes his head, water flying from his wet hair.

“Nothing he’ll be able to do now. Better for him to check on Shanks in the morning.” He answers, having been through many of these episodes since the incident with the sea king. “Come on, you can take his hammock. It’s clean, promise.” You cross your arms and hug your upper arms.

“I would prefer to stay,” you tell Benn, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “Not entirely sure I’ll be able to sleep, and I’d rather—I’ll feel better if I watch him, not that he needs it if this is normal for him…” Benn lingers by the door, staring at you with a look of understanding. You’d been unhappy that they had gone out with bad weather on the horizon, and not a single pirate on the ship missed out on the fact that you and Shanks have a… thing going on. It isn’t exactly his business, but Shanks isn’t discreet with his feelings, and you are still quite oblivious.

“As you wish, little lady,” Benn says before giving his captain and friend one last look. “He’ll be fine, just needs to rest and recuperate. Nothing he hasn’t had to deal with before.”

“Has anyone considered that perhaps he shouldn’t have to deal with this?” you quietly grouse to yourself, walking over to one of the chairs at the table and moving to the bedside. You peel off the soaked raincoat and drape it over the back of the chair before sitting down. Benn leaves you to keep watch, quietly shutting the door to the cabin behind him. You stare at the flushed face of the man laying in your borrowed bed. His bed. “I know it’s your business, but I do not like seeing you like this, Captain.” He doesn’t answer. Obviously.

Shanks is supposed to be strong. No. He is strong. Strong, capable, invincible. That is what he is to you. The invincible man that saved you from misery. But today has knocked you down a peg, reminding you that he is, at the end of the day, just a man. A man you have come to care very much about. A man who looks vulnerable.

You don’t know much about medicine, but you have read some of Hongo’s medical journals out of boredom. Reaching over, you place the back of your hand against his forehead and scowl. He’ll be fine. Bah! He’s already burning up! Standing up, you walk over to the clean bowl of water you had prepared to wash your face before bed, which never happened in the first place. So you grab a clean washcloth and dip it into the now cool water, squeezing out the excess. Returning to the chair, you brush away Shanks’ damp red hair from his sweltering skin and place the washcloth on his forehead.

“I have no idea if this actually helps, but it is better than nothing,” you sigh, placing your elbow on the mattress and propping your head up. “I hope you got what you came for. It would be a shame if you did all this for nothing.” He doesn’t answer; you don’t expect him to. But what he does do is shift and squirm like he’s in pain. You grab his hand and hold it tight, pressing your lips together in worry. “Next time, please wait until it is no longer raining. I don’t like this, Shanks. I don’t like this at all.”

Date Published: 2/14/24

Last Edit: 7/29/24

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[ssuperficialspacecadett]

Clementine Kisses

Chapter Seven of the Through the Scope Series | Chapter Eight

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.8K

Chapter Overview: You wake up in a strange bedroom and investigate

TW: smut !! oral (f receiving), f in v, p in v, depictions of breasts but without their size

Notes: now i know this isnt a gif of frankie, but i am the law of the land and i want to use it. okay LMAO we finally made it to the smut hehe i mean i feel like yall knew this was coming tbh,, i havent written it in a while so i might be a bit rusty, but im still pleased with how it turned out. its just so much fun to write. as usual ... my asks are always open & happy reading <3 (oh and listen to lemon boy by cavetown bc it was on repeat while i wrote this chapter)

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

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Your head is spinning, but your body is so comfortable. When did your shitty mattress get this soft? Without even having to open your eyes you can tell that the sun is up. You must have forgotten to close the blinds when you got home last night. Wait a second…you don’t remember coming home. Still choosing to keep your eyes shut for fear of seeing a stranger next to you in bed, you hoist the covers up and over your head. Maybe if you just pretend you didn’t do anything stupid last night it will become a reality. 

You inhale deeply, slightly wincing at the throbbing in your head, and your eyes pop open. It may be pitch black under the sheets, but you are starting to see things more clearly. You know this smell. It’s a smell that has haunted the deepest corners of your mind since you first encountered it. Since you first encountered him. It’s musky, but not in a dirty way. It fills your nose and soothes the anxiety you felt creeping its way into your belly. You breathe in deeply again. There were subtle hits of…tire rubber? Well he works in an auto body shop so that checks out.

You decide to hold your breath to see if you can hear anyone breathing softly beside you. A few seconds go by with the only sound being the steady beat of your heart. Hoping that you correctly assumed that you’re alone, you peel back the covers to reveal a foreign sun lit room. You look beside you and breathe a sigh of relief when you see that the right side of the bed has been left undisturbed. As much as you wanted to have sex with him, that was definitely something you wanted to remember. Using your elbows as support, you scoot your body into a sitting position and lean your back against his headboard. Looking at the nightstand beside the bed, you see three things: a glass full of water, two tylenol pills, and a small slip of paper. Without thinking twice you pop the painkillers in your mouth and chase them down with the now room temperature water. Nothing has ever tasted so refreshing. You trade the empty glass for the piece of paper. Aloud you read what it says.

You fell asleep in the truck. I’ll explain everything in the morning. On the couch if you need me. -Frankie

He had drawn a little smiley face next to his name. You laugh quietly to yourself as you set the note back down on the small table. Looking down you see your shoes neatly placed in front of it. There is a shirt you don’t recognize folded and carefully placed on top of them. You reach down and unfold it in your lap. 

“Hmm.” You run your fingers over the faded design on the front of it. “Fleetwood Mac. You have good taste in music, Frankie.” 

After giving the room one final once over to make sure no one is inside you shimmy out of yesterday's shirt and bra and dawn the one left out for you. Then you throw the rest of the covers back, climb out of bed, and take off your jeans. It wasn’t your fault he didn’t have any shorts for you. His shirt comes to rest a few inches above your knees as you start quietly tiptoeing around his room. You know snooping is wrong, but you just can’t help yourself. Your still socked feet guide you over to a thin, vertical bookshelf that sits directly in front of the side of the bed that you slept on. Dust has started to collect on the shelves and the books themselves. You run your fingers across the spines of them until you see one that peaks your interest. 

“What do we have here, Frankie? A Helicopter flying handbook?” 

You slide the heavy duty book from its seemingly perpetual resting place and crack it open. A lot of the pages are dog-eared and highlighted to high heaven. You close it and set it back where you found it. As you look closer you see that the majority of the books he has relate to helicopters, aviation, and the mechanics of flying aircrafts. A pang of sadness and realization shoots through you as you realize that you know so little about him. You know so little about what he did when he was on missions, fuck, you didn’t even know that he knew how to fly. But you want to. You want to know everything there is to know about him whether it be big or small or beautiful or ugly.

Moving over to his dresser, curiosity building, you see a group photo. You pick it up and you mentally name Frankie, Santi, Will, Benny, and who’s that? A gruff looking man smiles and has his arm around your coworker. He appears older than the other men he’s standing with. You’ve never met him or even heard the guys talk about him before. Right as your mind starts to pick apart who the fifth man in the photo could be, the sun reflects off something else on the dresser and catches your eye. You set the photo down and look for the culprit. When you find it, you feel your knees get weak. Sitting on top of a familiar looking post-it note there is a beer bottle cap. You gasp to yourself as you pick it up. This must have been the cap of the beer that he opened for you when you attended the fights with him. You thought you had seen him slip it into his pocket, but you figured that it was just because that was an easier alternative than leaving to throw it away. He saved it as a memento and kept it by your number. Two things that another man would consider trash, he kept and cherished. 

The smell of coffee tickles your nose and you can hear faint clanging coming from the kitchen. You decide that you have been hiding and snooping long enough, so you set the cap down and make your way to the door. The room you were in appears to be on the left side of the hallway. You walk quietly down the hall and notice that the walls are barren. The noises get louder as you close the space between yourself and the kitchen. His house’s layout makes you walk through the living room, which has the front door, before you reach the kitchen. There’s no door when you approach so you’re able to see Frankie engrossed in his task. Well, his back to be more precise. He has on a tired looking t-shirt and some boxers. One side of his hair is sticking up in a way that causes you to stifle a laugh. For a man that slept on the couch last night, he seems to be quite chipper. His low humming only makes that fact more apparent. You get comfortable by leaning against the shared living room and kitchen wall, but it’s short lived. The man in front of you turns around and bursts both of y’alls bubbles of ignorant bliss. 

“Oh!” He’s holding a mug in each hand. “Good morning! Or I guess it’s technically the afternoon now.”

“Good morning to you too.” You follow him when he beckons you to join him at the kitchen table. “So…do I want to know how I ended up here?” 

Frankie watches as you sit down across from him at the table in his shirt. If he’s being honest it makes his cock twitch to see you like this. He is in awe at how beautiful you look after waking up. Sure, your hair is wilder and your mascara is smudged, but fuck if you aren’t a breath of fresh air. He finds himself getting irrationally jealous that his bed was the one that got to hold you while you slept. He wanted to wake up to that face in the morning. Every morning.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He slides a mug over to you and scratches the back of his head.

“If waking up in the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in and then being greeted by a cup of coffee is bad, then I don’t ever want to end up in a good looking situation again.” 

His shoulders relax when you say this, as if he was anxiously waiting to see how you would react to the situation. “Well, Pope and I tried to drop you off at your apartment, but you didn’t have your house keys in your tote. So, this was the next best option.”

“Oh my God! I knew it seemed lighter than usual when I left the gym! Damn, Benny for rushing me last night.” 

“Your bag is over on the entryway table if you want it. It’s got your phone.”

“No, I’m alright.” You say before sipping your drink. “I’m in good company.” 

He looks at you bashfully before indulging in his own cup of coffee. You take the cozy silence as an opportunity to look around his kitchen. It’s oddly reminiscent of yours. No art, no decorations. Save for a small basket of fruit on his counter. The only room that has given you a glimpse into his mind has been his room. 

“Did you,” He follows your eyes. “Did you want an orange? I can never get around to eating them in time and it would be a shame for them to go to waste.”

“How about we share one? I’ve never been very hungry when I first wake up, but I’ll make an exception.” 

He stands just enough to give himself the extra length to reach the fruit. You take it from him when he offers it and start peeling. When you finish, you split it in half and offer one side to him. 

“I told you that you enjoy taking care of people last night.” You eat one of your citrus slices. 

He tries to look nonchalant as he mirrors your actions. “Maybe there is some sense to all that star stuff you like. Tal vez eres una estrella.”

“And what makes you think I’m a star?” Your stomach feels like it's made of knots. 

“Well…you have this brightness about you.” You can see it in his eyes that he’s struggling with telling you what he's thinking. Not because he doesn’t want to say it, but because he doesn’t know how to. “I seem to see you most often after the sun has already gone down, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know that you’re there when the sun is still up. Sometimes, I get lucky enough to see you during the day.” 

You breathe in a shaky breath as he presses forward in his explanation. 

“I find myself getting sucked into your gravitational pull whenever I’m around you.” 

Both of you have unconsciously started to lean towards each other.

“And you’re…”

“I’m what, Frankie?”

“You’re beautiful.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” It comes out shakier than you intend.

His eyes crinkle at the corners when he hears your reaction to his confession. “I’ve been in awe of you from the moment I met you and every moment after, mi estrella.” 

“My star.” You repeat what he just called you in spanish. You have to do something to distract from the intense feeling of bawling that suddenly consumes you. 

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He stands up and cups your face in his hands.

“Say you mean it.” You say looking at him.

His deep pools of chestnut trace your face as he stares back at you. “I mean it, mi estrella. Every syllable.”

You stand, his hands still in place, and kiss him. You finally kiss him. There is no way that you could have waited any longer. His lips mold with yours hungrily. As he opens his mouth to you, you can taste coffee and sweet oranges. You can’t help but moan into him when he slides his hands down your body to cup your ass and pull you tight against him. His teeth catch your bottom lip and pull on it gently. He groans when your own hands snake their way up his chest and wrap around his neck. You intertwine your fingers in his thick curls, grateful that you now have unbridled access to them without his cap.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.” His chest heaves against your body and you can feel him hardening against your bare leg.

You open your mouth for him again and tilt your head so you can deepen the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth and you eagerly let him. The sounds he’s making while he palms your ass are sinful. You feel yourself clench around nothing at the thought of the sounds he will make while he fucks you. He scoops you off the ground and your legs wrap around his waist as he sets you down on the table. The cool wood sends a shiver through your body that makes him smile against your lips. 

“I don’t think I can make it to the bedroom.” He sounds like he's in pain. 

“That makes two of us.” You gasp as he starts to work his way down your neck.

Desperate to quell the growing ache in between your legs you grind your core against him and feel him shutter.

“You want this just as badly as I do, huh?” His breath is hot against your skin.

“I want it so bad.” You bring his face back up to yours and sloppily kiss him. “It’s all I can think about.”

His hand answers your prayers when he starts to rub circles on you through your underwear. He swallows your wanton cries with his mouth. You feel him laugh against you and you already know the cause of it.

“You’re so wet for me and I’ve barely laid a finger on you, cariño. How is that?”

He slides your underwear to the side and easily slides in a finger. You have to lay your head on his shoulder as he curves it up inside you and hits that sweet spot.

“I would have-” Your breath is stolen for a moment when one finger hastily becomes two. “I would have let you do this to me at the bar. Would have let you make me come with your fingers while everyone sat around us.” 

“Fuck.” He whines into your hair. “You’re so filthy. Not caring who’s around or who could see what I’m doing to this sweet pussy.” He removes his fingers from inside of you and you whimper at the loss. You watch, mystified, as he places them in his mouth and licks each one clean with greed. “Lay back for me. I need to taste the real thing.”

His eyes are glazed over with lust right now. The ache in between your legs is so painful and you are desperate for reprieve. You immediately do as he asks and lay your back down on the kitchen table. You take the liberty of lifting your shirt up and exposing your breasts to him. The way he is looking at you makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world. His eyes wash over your body and you can’t help but squirm underneath his gaze. He leans down and takes one of them in his mouth while he forcefully cups the other. Your back arches when he catches your nipple between his teeth. Never one to neglect, he works his mouth to the other one before he trails his lips agonizingly slow down your body. He peppers kisses right above the start of your underwear and you can’t help but buck your hips up towards him. 

“Patience is a virtue.” He chides looking up at you through hooded lids.

“Please, Frankie.” You plead with him. You hope he can see how badly you're hurting. “Please, touch me. I can’t wait anymore.” 

He smiles to himself as he shifts his attention to what's right in front of him. His thumbs hook into the fabric and he slowly starts to pull them down.

Ding Dong! Ding Dong!

You both freeze and hold your breath to see if the sound was imagined. When its unholy ringing comes again, he rests his forehead on your stomach.

“I’m going to kill them. I’m legitimately going to fucking kill them.” His beard tickles your skin as he speaks. 

“Who-who is it?” You’re trying to catch your breath.

“The guys.” He doesn’t move his head from where he laid it to rest. “They are here to watch the basketball game.”

“Open up, Fish!” Benny yells as he raps on the door. “I know you’re in there, you bastard! Your truck is in the driveway!”

Frankie all but growls as he pulls your underwear back up and helps you sit up straight. If you didn’t know any better you’d think that Benny’s a dead man. You reluctantly hop off the table as Frankie tells them he will be there in a minute. 

“Why don’t I answer it?” You gesture down to his now very strained shorts. “You can change while I handle them.” 

“Oh fuck me.” He rolls his head back.

“That’s what I was trying to do! Now go, go!” 

You push him towards his room and start to head for the door. Two steps in and you feel a strong hand grab your arm and pull your body back. He captures you in a desperate kiss before he releases you. 

“This isn’t finished.” 

“Patience is a virtue, Frankie.” You wink.

He sends you to the door with a spank and heads into his room. You scurry to let everyone in as another round of banging starts.

“Hey guys! Long time no see.” 

They don’t look the least bit shocked to see you greeting them at the door. Pope must have filled them in about the events of last night on the way over. They all greet you with a tender kiss on the cheek and lug their various bags inside the house. You tell them that Frankie is just finishing changing and that he’ll be out shortly. 

“How’d you sleep last night, hermosa?” Pope sets four cases of beer on the kitchen table. The very sight of it causes heat to rise in your belly again.

“Oh umm good? I slept good!”

“Yeah I guess that would explain why your hair looks like it was caught up in a tornado and you have a crazed look in your eye.” Benny snickers. 

“Consequences of last night's actions at the bar.” You shrug leaning back on the sofa.

“There he is!” Will walks up to Frankie as he enters the room and pulls him in for a hug. 

When they break apart his eyes immediately fall on you which causes the rest of the men to follow suit. Suddenly, you’re very aware of how little clothing you have on. 

“Why don’t I put on some pants?” Your cheeks are burning under all the attention and with the knowledge of what almost happened.

“You don’t have too.” Benny offers casually as he lays takeout boxes down on the table. “It’s good practice for when you’re in the ring.” 

“Now I’m definitely going to put on pants.”

You hush the guys as they hoop and holler at you while you head to Frankie’s room in search of yesterday's jeans. If you didn’t know they meant it with love, those would have been the last sounds they uttered.

“She looks mighty relaxed here, Catfish.” Frankie is shocked that Will is the first one to address the elephant in the room. Usually he stays out of silly things like this, but you must be an exception. “Well, except for when Benny decided to poke the hornet's nest with that comment about her hair.” 

“Her hair? What about it?” He looks behind him where you disappeared. “And keep your voices down.”

“Be serious, man.” Pope cracks open a beer. “She looked so frustrated when we walked in. Like she’s a string that’s wound too tight and is this close to snapping.” He emphasizes his point by snapping his own fingers.

“I didn’t think she looked upset.” Benny sounds so confused.

“Not frustrated as in upset, you fuckin’ dolt.” Will looks at his brother with genuine annoyance.

Much to Frankie’s horror he watches in silence as understanding washes over Benny’s face when all the pieces click together in his head.

“Catfish, I’ve never known you to be a man that leaves a woman unsatisfied.” Benny remarks.

“Well that wouldn’t have happened if y’all had come just a little fucking later.” 

“That’s probably my fault.” Pope looks at him sheepishly. “I was anxious to see what unfolded after you dropped me off.” 

Frankie can’t help but chuckle at his friend's excitement. “Nothing ‘unfolded’ after I took you home, hand to God. She was dead to the world when I brought her inside and tucked her in. She didn’t even wake up until 30 minutes before y’all arrived.” 

“Now swear something wasn’t happening while she was awake.” Pope smiles knowing damn well he has Frankie cornered.

“I uhh-”

“Okay I’m presentable looking now.” You walk into the room and immediately notice Will, Santi, and Benny fighting back laughter while Frankie flounders in front of them. “What the fuck have y’all done now?” 

“Just some good ol’ fashion teasin’, hon.” Will waves you over. “You’re going to stay and watch the game with us, right?” 

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude.” You start.

“You’re not!” Frankie is quick to say.

“Yeah! We want you to hang with us!” Benny voices enthusiastically.

“All these beers aren’t going to drink themselves.” Pope waves his hand dramatically over the booze. “Plus, your car is still at the gym. It looks like you’re stuck with us.” 

“You got me there. I guess it’s only fair that I listen to y’all talk about basketball since y’all listened to me talk about the stars.” 

“Atta girl!” Will pulls you into a side hug while the rest of the boys cheer, Frankie included. 

***

You watch happily on the couch as the men around you take turns yelling at the television and then at each other. Thankfully, you knew how basketball worked so you were more than capable of keeping up with what was going on. You and Frankie sit right next to each other on the couch the entire time. Throughout the game they would all jump up and cheer when their team made a basket, but the second you sat with your legs crossed and had your knee touching Frankie, he happily realized he could better encourage the players from a sitting position. After the game ends and all the food is eaten, you get questioned about how you usually spend your Sundays off.

“It used to be similar to this. When I was living with Robbie back home,” You laugh when you notice the raised eyebrows from Will, Frankie, Pope.

“Robbie is a girl. Calm down y’all.” Benny explains.

“Anyway, when I was living with Robbie back home, we would pile into one of our beds with wine and snacks to watch shitty reality TV. We definitely had our fair share of times yelling choice words at the screen and contestants.” 

You’re met with immediate disbelief that reality TV could invoke those kinds of emotions. Instead of verbally pleading your case, you take the remove from Frankie and use it to open up Hulu. You find your favorite show and your favorite season and hit play. 

“After a single episode y’all will be eating your words.” 

When it ends Will is too angry to speak, Frankie is asking you ‘why that dude with the buzzed hair choose the girl in the yellow bikini over the girl in the pink bikini?”, Benny is fully convinced he would dominate at the show, and Pope is begging to watch the next episode. Completely surprised they all loved it, you play the next episode and snuggle deeper into the cushions. You rest your arm on the back of the couch and play with the ends of Frankie’s curls. Electricity shoots through you each time you feel his body tremble under your soft touch. You all only realize how late it's gotten by the time the season is halfway over. 

“Shit, I gotta be up early tomorrow to talk to some vets at the VA.” Will says as he stands. 

Pope and Benny follow his lead and stretch as they do it. You pat on Frankie’s leg and get up as well. Picking up the trash that has collected on the coffee table, you take it to the kitchen to dispose of it. It doesn’t take Will long to expertly gather up both his things and the men he brought with him. You and Frankie walk them out and send them off with sweet goodbyes and promises of doing this again soon. 

“See you at work tomorrow!” Benny calls back to you from the driveway.

As soon as you close the door, you can feel the energy shift in the room. 

“I thought they would never leave.” His voice is gravelly. 

When you look up at Frankie, he’s already staring down at you with the same look he had in his eyes earlier this afternoon. 

“I could barely hold it together with you teasing me like that. Did you enjoy it? Feeling me suffer under your fingers?”

He’s already got his hands on your hips and is pulling you flush against his body. You let out a low whimper as his mouth finds its home on yours. Your smile against him is answer enough to his question and he nips at your bottom lip in response. 

“Now it’s my turn to make you suffer. To drag it out until you’re begging me to stop.” 

He lifts you off the ground and you find yourself in an all too familiar position with your legs around his waist. You can feel him start to walk somewhere, but you can’t be bothered to look as you suck sweet red marks under his jaw line. Hearing him moan loudly only adds fuel to your fire that was never properly put out earlier. Each time he takes a step, the buckle of his belt rubs against your throbbing clit. You wriggle your body against his as best you can to generate as much friction as possible. When the light behind your eyelids fades, you know exactly where he has taken you. You feel him come to a stop and detach your lips from his neck and admire your work. Those rosy marks will definitely be there in the morning. 

“Hi.” You whisper as you turn your attention to his face. 

“Hi.” He says in the same hushed tone. “I’m going to give you an out. I should have done this this afternoon, but I-I got so caught up in you that I couldn’t think properly. If you don’t want to do this, tell me right now and we can pretend like it never happened. No hard feelings. I just don’t want you to do something you regret tomorrow.”

“Frankie,” You reach up for his hat and throw it to the floor so you can run your hands through his hair. His eyes flutter as you touch him ever so tenderly. “I don’t want an out. I want you.” 

His eyes water ever so slightly at your words. Like it was the first time he had ever been truly craved by another person in his life. It makes your heart crack at the thought. You lean in and capture his lips. They are so pliant against yours. It feels like they were made for you and you alone.

“Do you want me?”

“More than anything.”

“Then show me.”

He tosses you down on the bed and the plush comforter cradles your body. In an instant each of you are ripping off shirts and haphazardly unbuttoning pants. You look up at him, only in your underwear, and take all of him in. His strong arms, broad shoulders, a stomach that you can’t wait to feel rub against you. The lower your eyes go on his body, the harder he gets under his boxers. You squeal when he wraps his hands around your ankles and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. He never breaks eye contact as he kneels down in front of you. He starts slowly at first, kissing you through the fabric barrier. Adorning your thighs with his tongue and soft nips from his teeth. Your quiet moans fill his ears as he finally removes your last stitch of clothing. He chokes at the sight of your weeping cunt before him. You spread your legs wider, beckoning him to take a taste. 

Your cries bounce off the bedroom walls as he buries his face in between your thighs. His tongue works in ways that you never thought possible. You ball up the sheets beside you in your fists as he laps at you relentlessly. Breath stolen with each wicked sound that pours out of his throat. His hand removes itself from your thigh and climbs its way up your writhing body. In an effort to remain tethered to the earth you grab on tighter to him than you thought possible. 

“Fuck, Frankie,” You’re drunk off of him. “You feel so good.”

“And you taste even better.” 

He takes your clit in his mouth and your back arches as two thick fingers glide inside you. If this is his idea of suffering, you wouldn’t mind spending eternity in hell. Your legs start to tremble, but he is unwavering. Drinking you up like you were the first sip of water he has had in years.

“Come for me, mi estrella.”

He holds your hand through your climax. The two of you moaning in unison as you drench him. He doesn’t detach his mouth from you until your body has ceased its shaking. Only when you're struggling to catch your breath, splayed out on the bed, does he retrace his path back up your body with his lips. His beard is glistening with your slick as he lowers himself to kiss you. The taste of you is prominent on his tongue when he slips it into your mouth. You wrap your arms around him and pull the rest of his weight on top of you. You can hear him growl in your ear when you start to move your hips underneath him. 

“Take them off.” You mewl. “I want to feel you. All of you.” 

He pushes off the bed frantically and sheds the last of his clothing. God, he was much bigger than you originally thought. You move your body upwards on the bed so you can lay on a pillow. You watch, mouth watering, as he starts to crawl his way back towards you. He licks his palm and uses it to stoke himself. The profane performance in front of you causes your mind to go blank. He lowers himself in between your legs again and you can feel his tip at your entrance. You can only mutter incomprehensible words as he sinks himself deep inside you. You wrap your arms back around him to keep yourself steady as you feel your walls stretch around his length.

“You’re so fucking tight around me, cariño.” His face is inches from yours. “I’ve got to move, okay?” 

You answer him by bringing your lips up to kiss him. Your whimpers are muffled by his mouth as he sets his pace. Each stroke is more detrimental than the previous one. Your nails bitting into his back only serves to motivate him as he continues. 

“You’re so big. I can feel you everywhere. Frankie.” 

He sits up just enough to allow himself room to rub your clit. His face fluctuates between concentration and bliss. 

“Are you going to come for me again? Come for me all over my cock?” His fingers rub tight circles and you can feel yourself quickly approaching.

You nod in response to him.

“I can’t hear you. Use your words.” He demands.

“Yes,” you pant. “I’m going to come for you. Only for you.” 

Frankie is trying to keep himself from finishing before you do. He wants to make sure you at least finish twice before he even considers it. He brings the hand he was using on you up to his mouth and spits on it before connecting it to you again. The sounds that are coming from you are making it increasingly difficult to stay focused on his task. He looks down at you while he continues to pound into you and work at your clit. Your body gleams with sweat, your chest is heaving, your lips are swollen from him kissing them, and your eyes…your eyes are on him. He falters for a split second under your gaze. No other woman has ever made him nervous in bed the way you have. Never has he worried that he was doing too little or too much. But with you, he wanted everything to be perfect.

Frankie adjusts your hips so he can hit that sweet spot. He knows he found it when your eyes go wide and your jaw goes slack. He doesn’t change a thing about what he is doing. 

“I’m gonna come,” You sob.

You clench down tightly around him as you’re thrust into your second orgasm of the night. It only takes three or four more pumps until he too is consumed by his own pleasure. You feel him spurt hot ropes inside you and sink deeper into the bed. When he’s done, you feel a slight sting as he pulls out. He crawls beside you in the bed and ghosts his lips over yours.

“I’m going to get a towel to clean you up, alright? Are you going to be good here by yourself for a sec?”

“I don’t think I could move even if I wanted to.”

He smiles down at you and kisses you quickly before disappearing into the bathroom. You rest your eyes while the faucet runs faintly in the background. He’s quiet when pads into the bedroom, but you feel the bed creak beside you under his weight. The towel is damp and warm against you. You sigh contentedly as he takes his time in cleaning you up as if he is sad to see the evidence of him being washed clean from your skin. When he finishes, he sets the towel down on a nightstand and pulls the covers over both of you. His arms pull your tired body against his and envelop you in his warmth. 

“That was worth the wait.” You laugh.

“I would definitely say so, but hopefully we won’t have to wait so long for the next time.”

“No, I don’t think we will.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @mxtokko @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson @megcads @myloveistoolittle @casa-boiardi @jitterbugs927 @partyofone3413 @pedrit0-pascalit0 @golden-library @pati-et-vivere @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @mashomasho @lilmizmoz @angstylittlepascal @sofiparallel @selflcontrol @adriennemichelle98 }

[andreafmn]

Bound | Chapter 5

Word Count: 2.3K Warnings: queer harassment

Summary: Rosalie always carried the resentment of not being able to fulfill the image of the perfect family she had in her head. But the universe had set out to grant her everything she could’ve hoped for in the most unconventional way and in the form of a witch. Can their love withstand the promise of forever or will Rosalie and (Y/N) succumb to the grapples of time?

A/N: oh, oh, I'm falling in love with a pairing that will not work out... I know I'm the writer, but, damn. I am breaking my own heart here. 🫠🫠 also, two chapters in one day, wow

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There would come a day when (Y/N) didn’t have Beatrice Porter by her side. There would come a day when she wouldn’t be able to roll over in her bed and find the onyx-black strands of her hair splayed over a pillow or kiss her eyelids as they fluttered in sleep. But in 1935, she didn’t know that. 

In 1935, she still believed they had forever. At least as long as forever could be in their human lives. And because she didn’t know, she was able to live in the absolute bliss of being with her best friend. 

As she brushed her hair out of the tight coil of the curlers she wore to bed, (Y/N) smiled at the sleeping figure of Bea on her bed. The sun had barely started to shine through the curtains, basking her pale body in the warm light of its rays. Her shoulders peeked through the white sheets, rising and falling with the evenness of her breaths. She was a vision of beauty that (Y/N) had been lucky enough to witness. 

By the time the witch was putting on her earrings, Bea stirred from her slumber, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. “Good morning,” she croaked. “You look beautiful.” 

“Hm, I was going for smart,” (Y/N) chuckled. “Is it the necklace or the hair?” 

“It’s your face,” the girl smiled. “You could play hooky, you know. Spend the day with me rather than at the university.” 

“A rather tempting offer,” she said as she walked toward the bed, crawling to Bea. “But I’m too close to graduating now. I’ve already had to argue with enough men who believe that higher education is no place for a woman.” 

“Well, in that case, give them hell,” Bea smirked. “I suppose I should do my own studying then. I do have a test this week and have gone to three classes at the most. I just don’t see the point if I’m going to stay here. Magic doesn’t require human schooling.”

“But the coven does need to change with the times. We need to strive for better. For bigger,” (Y/N) explained. “Living in the woods is amazing, but it keeps us secluded. Alienated. We need to find ways to blend in with society. Hide in plain sight. That’s the key to survival.” 

“You’ve always had great plans for the coven. You will make a wonderful High Priestess one day.” 

“One can only hope,” she sighed contentedly. “But for now, I can do my part in gaining more knowledge of how the outside world works. Find a way witches and other supernaturals can live amongst humans undetected. There may not be as many, but you know there are still people out there that hunt our kind. I mean, just last week, we received word of a coven in Louisiana being burnt down by so-called Modern Witch Hunters. We’ve learned to hide, but clearly not well enough.” 

“Cruelty will always be an incurable sickness in humans,” Bea grumbled. “People in high school taught us that early on.” 

The memory made (Y/N) grimace. They hadn’t done anything wrong. Stood by their respective lockers, the two girls had simply been talking and decided to sneak a soft caress. (Y/N) had only brushed a stray ringlet of hair that had fallen over Bea’s eyes. But her fingers had lingered too long, and their stare was a little too intense. A pair of boys had been walking down the hallways at that precise moment and had decided that what the girls were doing was too queer for their liking. 

Deeming (Y/N) as the instigator, they had snatched her and carried her to the nearest dumpster while calling her a slew of slurs and insults. All this while Bea cried and begged them to stop. It took everything in them both not to use their powers, knowing the punishment for using magic with humans was magic binding for an undetermined amount of time. 

As the lid closed above her and the smell of trash engulfed her, (Y/N) promised never to show an ounce of affection to her friend outside of the protective confines of their coven. There, no one questioned or talked in whispers –although some eyes did follow them at times. But it was nothing like the treatment they endured outside. A couple of stares here and there was nothing like finding dead animals stuffed in your locker, or being unable to walk down the street without being accompanied by a big enough group, or having to stay as far away from your best friend as possible because you don’t know who will attack you for what they believe. 

“You know, Annabeth is leaving in July,” Bea said, changing the topic as she saw how it upset (Y/N). “She was accepted to the University of Tennessee. She says there’s something about the state that calls to her, but I don’t understand why she would go so far. There are enough good schools nearby.” 

“Well, she’s setting her own path,” (Y/N) smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind Bea’s ear. “Your sister has always been quite the free spirit.”   

“That she is,” she chuckled. “Momma is going with her to help her settle in and everything. She also wants to make sure she’s comfortable with the coven over there.” 

“Would you go with her if she asked?” 

“And leave you up here all alone?” the girl scoffed. “Wouldn’t even think about it for a second.” 

“All you’d need is a big enough body of water, and you could come here anytime.”

“Are you suggesting that I leave, (Y/N) Carmine? Do you not want me here?”

“Oh please, don’t even say that. But she is your sister, Bea,” (Y/N) laughed. “You could at least pretend to ponder over the idea. Your family has always been so close-knit.”

“She’d understand,” Bea shrugged with a mischievous smile. “I’ve got something special here.” 

“You’re bad,” she grinned before kissing the girl’s temple. “And I’m going to be late.” 

“Fine,” Bea conceded. “I’ll let you go as long as you bring me some doughnuts.” 

“Of course. I wouldn’t dare come home without them.” 

“Good,” she beamed. “Then, I guess you can go.” 

It was simplicities such as those that (Y/N) reveled in. She may not have been allowed to hold Bea’s hand in public or even say how much she loved her, but she had their home. Behind those four walls, they were able to simply exist. No labels to concern themselves with, no judgment, and certainly no harassment. 

As the day trickled by and class after class passed, (Y/N) couldn’t help but have her mind divided between her education and the girl waiting for her at home. Everything reminded her of Bea. The black fabric of the chairs she sat on was the same color as her hair, the blue of the sky matched perfectly with the iciness of her eyes, and the smell of the town’s bakery reminded her of the girl’s favorite treat. 

There was nowhere she could turn that didn’t remind her of Beatrice, and there was no one on Earth she could love more than her… at least, that’s what she believed at that moment. By then, she had no idea her soul was bound to an immortal, nor that her life would go on after Bea passed one day. At that moment, she knew only of the fleetingness of life and the importance of living in the present. There was no way for her to know how fleeting those moments were when eternity came into play. 

For now, she enjoyed every second she had in the life she believed was passing.

She was coming out of the bakery when she was met with Russell Morgan, a witch from their coven who had always been kind and concerned over her and Bea. She knew he’d always had his eye on Beatrice, leaving flowers and trinkets on their porch for her. Though he understood the relationship the girls shared, he couldn’t help the affinity he held for the young witch. And none of it bothered (Y/N). Bea had made her choice, and it had been her. 

“Hello, Russ,” she smiled as he matched her pace, knowing he was escorting her home without mentioning it. “How was your day today?” 

“Can’t complain,” he chuckled. “Just making it through this last semester. Hoping I hear back from med school any day now. That’s been the most stressful thing.” 

“I’m sure you’ll get in,” she said. “You’re brilliant, Russ. They’d be lucky to have you. And you know New Forest witches seem to do well in medical school.” 

“Well, we do have a certain je ne sais quoi,” he laughed. “And, uh, how’s Bea been recently? I haven’t seen her as much in lessons.” 

“You know her. Most days, she doesn’t even want to get out of bed,” she smiled. “But I’ve already made a deal with her. For every day that she attends lessons, I’ll bring her a new pastry from the bakery.” 

“That will definitely get her there,” Russell chuckled. “And Margaret won’t be angry at her.” 

“Oh, Margaret’s a big softie at heart.” 

“She really is. And uh, are you two still…” 

(Y/N) knew he wouldn’t get the words out. He never did. “Yes. Bea and I are still,” she chuckled softly. “Don’t think that’s changing any time soon.”

“Well, not that I’m not happy for you two, but a man can only hope,” he said as his cheeks grew red in slight embarrassment. She knew he meant nothing by it and also understood the pull Bea held. “I do hope for you years of happiness. Even if the world hasn’t caught up to different kinds of love.”

“I know, Russ. And I am grateful for your wishes and your friendship. I know one day you’ll meet a woman as wonderful as you.” 

“I sure hope so. Mom is on me about giving her grandkids already. Apparently, the two kids my sister has already given her are not enough.” 

“No amount will ever be enough,” she laughed. “But she might be closer than you think, Russ.” 

And neither of them had any idea how true the statement was. 

Back at the house, the smell of fresh bread and beef stew filled the air. The scent alone made (Y/N)’s stomach grumble, knowing the flavor would be even better than the smell. The dinner table was already set, complete with a set of flickering candles. 

“What’s the occasion?” (Y/N) smiled as she kissed Bea’s cheek. “Everything looks so beautiful.” 

“Do we need an occasion to have a candle-lit dinner?” Bea said. “I just felt like it. Especially since you brought me some of my favorite doughnuts.” 

“Maybe I should bring you doughnuts every day.” 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” she grinned. “And if they’re sugar doughnuts, even better.” 

“Do you really think I’d bring you any others?” 

“Better not,” she laughed. “But I just wanted to do something nice for you. Because I love you, and you deserve it.” 

“You’re the best, Bea,” (Y/N) beamed. “I love you more than the moon loves the sun.” 

With a flick of her hand, music filled the kitchen, and their bodies swayed to the rhythm that played through the radio. They swirled through the room, forgetting the stew that bubbled on the stove and the candles that were melting on the table. But they didn’t care. All they cared about was the fact that they were happy, they were healthy, and they were together. They filled a house with love and joy, and that seemed enough. 

“Do you think there will ever be a way we could have kids?” Bea asked absentmindedly. “I know it couldn’t really happen naturally. But maybe adopting.”

“I don’t think that could happen, Bea,” (Y/N) sighed. “At least not us together or even as single women living together. The world isn’t ready for that, darling.” 

“Oh, what a tragedy,” she sighed. “You would be a great mother.” 

“As would you, Beatrice,” the witch smiled sadly. “Is that something you really want? Children, I mean.” 

“Well, it had always been my dream to have a big family. Little ones running around, a home, someone to grow old with,” she admitted. “I just thought it was the normal way life would move toward.” 

“But I can’t give you all of that, Bea,” (Y/N) sniffled. She stopped their swaying and rested her forehead against Bea’s, a thin stream of tears falling down her eyes. “I can’t give you everything you’ve dreamed of.”

“Well, darling, I don’t want any of that if it’s not with you,” she assured. “I am perfectly content with just having you for the rest of my life.” 

“I want you to have everything you’ve ever dreamed of, Beatrice. I don’t want you to settle just for love. What if, one day, you wake up and realize that love isn’t enough for you? That kids and marriage is what you wanted all along.” 

Bea smiled warmly then, cradling (Y/N)’s face and wiping away the tears that stained her cheeks. “And what makes you think that your love is not enough?” she cooed. “I would wait a thousand years if it meant I got to live my life with you. Children are never a sure thing. Even if I married a man, there is no certainty that I could fall pregnant. But, with you, I know there is love. That is certain, and that is what I need.”

She sealed her words with a chaste kiss to (Y/N)’s lips, slipping through her mouth all the love she felt for her best friend. It was a promise of a future together, a promise of forever. But how could they have known that forever would not have been long enough? That the end of their forever was just around the corner. 

“Now, why don’t we sit and eat already?” Beatrice smiled.”I’m starving.” 

“Alright then,” (Y/N) said. “Let’s eat, and cheers to forever then.” 

“Cheers to forever.”

Next ->

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[crystalninjaphoenix]

Welcome to Your New Unlife

Shadow City AU - Chapter One?

A JSE Fanfic

You all voted on the poll for this, so here you go! I wasn't able to finish this week's PNPT AU chapter, but I've had this sitting in my WIPs for a while. Shadow City is an urban fantasy AU where the septic egos are all various supernatural creatures, hiding right under the noses of the everyday people of the city Scuabyrg. Chase is new to this, having just woken up one morning as a ghost. Jackie, Schneep, and Marvin are all friends, being a werewolf, vampire, and witch respectively. And JJ is new in town, moving in along with a mysterious roommate.

It's important to note that I am NOT READY to start posting this AU regularly. Though I've been working on it on and off for a while, I have not really gotten that far, and I'm not really able to fit it into my schedule. I guess I COULD add it into the rotation so I write five AUs at a time instead of four? But quite frankly, I don't want to do that XD There's already a long delay between chapters of my weekly AUs as it is. Maybe if you guys want it, I can post this AU sporadically? When I get to it? Who knows? I just hope you enjoy this 10k word preview, I guess XD

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Chase opened his eyes to a killer headache.

He groaned and closed his eyes once more, pressing his hands to either side of his head. He must have had too much to drink again last night. He rolled over, expecting to feel his mattress or the sofa cushions shift under him... but the surface he was lying on was harder than that. Did he fall asleep on the floor? That was a new low.

It took him a moment to realize he wasn’t alone. There were voices around him.

The headache was already fading, but it still took some effort for him to open his eyes again and look around. He was, indeed, lying on the floor of his living room. Specifically, underneath the front window, pressed up against the blue-wallpapered wall. The floor was carpeted, but the short beige carpet wasn’t exactly soft. Not a good place to sleep. But that was the least of his concerns now, as he saw three strangers wandering around the room. “Hey!” he shouted, sitting up. “What the hell are you doing?!”

The strangers didn’t respond to him. Two of them were talking, standing between the coffee table and his TV stand. The third one was looking down at the brown sofa. He saw her pick up an empty bottle from the end table with a gloved hand and look it over. They weren’t trying to be subtle or careful about any of this. They were clearly visible in the sunlight coming from the open window. Were they robbing him? Who robbed someone in the middle of the day?!

“I asked you what the hell you were doing!” Chase snapped. He climbed to his feet—or tried to, at least. He felt... weirdly floaty. His arms and legs weren’t responding like they should. But he pushed through that and got up. “This is my house and I didn’t fucking let you in! Get out before I call the cops!”

They weren’t even phased by his shouting. Chase felt a spike of fear and panic, and his eyes darted around, looking for his phone. He left it on the coffee table last night... last he knew. He didn’t actually remember... a lot of last night. He didn’t drink that much, did he?

Whatever. His phone wasn’t on the table. But he knew that this house he rented came with a landline in the kitchen. Too bad the archway to the kitchen was through the weird guys in his living room. Chase hesitated, trying to plot a way through them, scanning the living room.

...something was wrong with the sunlight.

He frowned, unsure what it was. Curious, he raised his hand and waved it, staring at the ground to see if his shadow was weird or something.

...

In a way, he was right.

Because his shadow... wasn’t there at all.

Chase stared at the ground. He leaned side to side, hoping that maybe this was just the hangover messing with his vision or something. But... no, he didn’t have a shadow.

“Wh-what?” He breathed, a disbelieving laugh tracing the word. This couldn’t be right. He turned around to look out the window, having the absurd thought that someone was playing a trick on him with a special kind of light.

Outside the window, the small front garden of his house was overrun with more strangers. But... not just any strangers. Some of them were wearing familiar uniforms. And there was a big white van with sirens and open back doors—an ambulance. There was an ambulance outside, accompanied by paramedics and police. All outside his house.

He stared at them for a moment, then turned to look at the strangers in his room again. For the first time, he really took in what they were talking about. “Well if there’s no sign of a break-in, it’s pretty clear what it was, don’t you think?” one of them was saying.

Another one sighed. “Yeah. But it’s just... you want it to be anything else, don’t you?”

“What’s going on?” Chase asked. “Wh-what are you talking about? I-is someone hurt?!” His eyes darted around the room again, looking for something out of the ordinary—

There was a stain on the ground.

To his left. There was a stain on the ground.

A rusty red-brown splatter, partially covering the wall as well.

Blood.

Chase suddenly felt very cold. “What... what’s happening?” he whispered. He looked up at the strangers. They must have been more police officers—or detectives, maybe, since they weren’t in uniform. The two were carrying on with their conversation. The third was standing up and heading down the hallway. Completely unbothered. Like they... hadn’t seen or heard him at all... 

The cold feeling deepened.

“I-I... I-if you aren’t going to answer me, then—then I-I’m leaving!” Chase announced. He headed to the nearby front door, reaching for the doorknob—

His hand passed right through it.

He stared at the doorknob, not comprehending what just happened. Slowly, he reached out again, as if he thought that going slower would help. But... no. His hand passed through it again.

He looked at his hand. It looked normal to him. Maybe a bit pale? He took a deep breath...

Or... he tried to. His chest rose and fell, but he felt no air pass through his nose. Or through his mouth, when he tried again.

He wasn’t breathing.

He didn’t have a shadow.

People couldn’t see or hear him.

And his hand passed right through things.

Was he...?

No. No, this had to be a dream! A nightmare! Panicking, he ran right at the door—and as suspected, he passed right through the wood and ended up outside.

It was a sunny day. It was near the end of summer, before the chill of autumn started to set in.  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky to block the sun from beating down. And there was no wind rustling the clothes and hair of the people outside.

But he couldn’t feel the heat.

In a daze, he moved forward, weaving around the police. He moved towards the ambulance. Towards its open doors.

Inside was a black bag.

“Oh god...” Chase whispered. He backed up again. “F-fuck.” His chest was rising and falling quickly, but it was just a habit, he didn’t feel the air, he didn’t feel the breath—He ran his hand through his hair. He could feel that fine! And... he could feel something on the side of his head. Something he didn’t notice when he opened his eyes earlier.

The spot where his head hurt... it was sticky.

Chase felt his head, to make sure that this was what he thought it was. A sticky, slightly warm spot on either side of his head. His head didn’t hurt anymore, but—fuck, was this what caused it?!

His eyes darted around, looking for something, anything, to explain why this was happening. Did someone break into his house?! Attack him in his sleep?! Was anyone else in the neighborhood hurt, or was it just him?! He couldn’t see any answers to these questions. But... he could see someone looking at him.

Chase stared back at this stranger. He moved back and forth slightly, to be sure that the stranger was looking at him—which he was, as his eyes darted to follow Chase’s motion. This stranger was wearing a blue jacket, which was identical to the blue jackets that some of the other people around were wearing. A uniform? The stranger’s hair was brown, pulled back in a small manbun, and he had a beard that was thick but not too long. As Chase stared back at him, the stranger subtly jerked his head to the side, then walked that way. Did he want Chase to follow him?

He was hesitant at first, but what else was he supposed to do now? This guy was the only person who could see him so far. Maybe he had answers. Chase headed after him.

The stranger had ducked around the corner of the house, leaning by the iron fence that separated it from the neighbor. Now that Chase was closer, he could see the words SPDFI written in yellow on the jacket’s lapel. ‘SPD’... That probably stood for Scuabyrg Police Department—Scuabyrg being the city that Chase lived in, the city they were in right now. What did ‘FI’ stand for, though?

“Well, uh... hey,” the stranger said.

“Can you see me?” Chase blurted out.

The stranger laughed. “Yeah, I can. And hear you, too.” He smiled a bit. “I’m Jack McLoughlin. I work for Forensic Investigation. We’re the people who investigate crime scenes.”

Ah, so that’s what ‘FI’ stood for. “So... why are you... Wh-why can you see me?” Chase whispered. “When I’m... A-am I... Am I... dead?”

Jack’s smile fell and he became serious again. “I... want to be sensitive about this. But... yeah. You are.”

Chase didn’t say anything. He stared at Jack blankly.

“Take a moment to process it,” Jack said gently. “It’s... obviously it’s a lot. You’re probably overwhelmed. That’s okay.”

“I-I don’t... understand,” Chase whispered. “What happened to me?”

“...do you want me to be blunt and tell you?” Jack asked.

“Yeah.”

“Brace yourself, okay?” Jack paused for a moment. “You got shot in the head.”

“I figured that out,” Chase dismissed. He tapped the side of his head. “I felt the spot. But—why?!”

“Uh... well, from what I’ve overheard, they think...” Jack coughed awkwardly.

“Someone killed me?”

“No, uh, not someone... else.”

Chase stared. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach—or... the spot where his stomach would be, if he had a body. “They think that... it was self-inflicted?”

“Well, uh... if you’re so surprised, they’re probably wrong,” Jack said slowly.

“Y-yeah of course I am! I mean, I’m not—I wouldn’t say I never—But not while my—holy shit my family!” Chase gasped. “They’re going to—oh my god, I—Declan’s going to—Stacy—”

“Please try to calm down.” Jack’s voice was steady. “Focus on the world around you. You are here. This is real.”

Chase took a few more deep “breaths.” Even though it didn’t do anything, the motion was comforting. “I—I didn’t want—I mean, does anyone really want—”

“We’re going to take this slowly,” Jack continued. “One thing at a time. This is a massive change, but it will be okay.”

“Okay?! I’m dead!”

“But you’re still around. That means you still have stuff to do here.”

Chase pressed a hand to his chest. He could feel it. He could feel that. Jack was right, he was still here. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.” He nodded, then gave Jack another look. “So... You see dead people?”

Jack cracked a smile. “Yeah. I have a gift for it. A sixth sense, ESP, whatever you want to call it. Been that way all my life, so I’m used to it. I know a lot about ghosts and all that.”

“Okay... so... ghosts are real,” Chase stated. “People... really do become ghosts when they die.”

“Oh, not everyone,” Jack said. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“If you have unfinished business. People who die with big regrets, people who were in the middle of something, people who had one last thing they wanted to do... those guys become ghosts. It’s why I went into CSI and forensics and stuff. People who die in accidents or, uh... murders... a-are more likely to have that tether that keeps them to this side.” Jack tilted his head. “So... Do you know what your business is? It’s okay if you don’t. Not all ghosts do.”

“I...” Chase paused. “I... don’t know. I... Maybe it’s my family.”

“That would make sense,” Jack said slowly. “What’s your family like?”

“I-I have a wife, Stacy—well, um, technically she’s my ex-wife. We... finalized our divorce recently.” Chase winced just remembering it. “But, um, we don’t hate each other! We just... thought it was better this way. I-it was mostly her idea. And I guess I don’t blame her, I... I think I was a good dad, but maybe not a good, uh, homemaker. Anyway, yeah, uh, I-I also have a son. Declan. H-he’s ten.” He smiled slightly. “My little ball of sunshine.” The smile faded. “I would never... I-I wouldn’t leave him. Never.”

Jack nodded sympathetically. “I believe you. I guess... I guess that things aren’t what they look like in there. Someone must’ve framed it as a suicide.”

“But who the fuck would want to kill me?” Chase asked. “I’m a nobody! I’m a wannabe streamer, there’s no reason to sneak into my house and murder me!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know.” Jack shook his head. “Um... what’s your name, by the way? I should’ve asked you earlier.”

Chase laughed. “Oh, I didn’t even realize you hadn’t asked. I’m Chase. Chase Brody. Sometimes called BroAverage online, but there’s only a handful of people who’d know me as that, I bet.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Chase.” Jack smiled. “I’d like to help you get used to all this.”

“Get used to being a ghost?” Chase repeated doubtfully.

“People can get used to anything,” Jack said. “But it’s not just that. Now that you’re a ghost... well, you might want to know that there’s more to the world than you think.”

Chase blinked in surprise—realizing that, like breathing, the motion was no longer instinctual. “What do you mean?”

“There are... more creatures in the world than you’d expect,” Jack said slowly. “Creatures of the night, they’re sometimes called. The shadow world.”

“You mean like... what?”

“Again, do you want me to be blunt?”

“Might as well.”

Jack shrugged. “Like witches and vampires and werewolves and zombies and—”

“WHAT?!” Chase shouted.

“You told me to be blunt,” Jack pointed out.

“Fucking vampires and werewolves exist?!” If Chase hadn’t woken up as a ghost, he wouldn’t have believed it.

“Yeah.” Jack glanced to the side. “But, uh, unfortunately, I’m not sure I have enough time to explain all that. We were about to clear up here when you Awoke. I-I can come back some other time to explain more, but for now, let me give you the basics of being a ghost.”

“Uh... okay.” The news about other supernatural creatures still hadn’t fully sunken in, so might as well move on.

“You’re still a, uh, ‘new’ ghost,” Jack said delicately. “So you won’t be able to go much farther than the spot you died. But you seem pretty aware, so you’ll probably get stronger real quick.”

“Can I... talk to people?” Chase asked. “Other than you, I mean. Like, you always hear about ghostly voices on those ghost hunter shows.”

Jack chuckled. “Ghost hunter shows aren’t all that reliable. But... yeah. Ghosts can speak, be seen, and touch things, but you need to concentrate to be able to do it.”

“Concentrate?”

“It’s all about intention. You usually don’t think much about being seen, cause it just happens. But as a ghost, you need to think about it. Put effort into it. Most ghosts find it easiest to concentrate on speaking, since, uh, when you’re talking you’re already kind of intending to be heard. So just do that, but more so. Manifesting and touching things are a bit more difficult.”

“Okay...” Chase said slowly. “I think I’m following.”

“Here, I think I have time for a demonstration.” Jack reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small sphere, about the size of a golf ball, made of cloudy glass. “Hold out your hand.”

Chase did so. Jack put his left hand under his—Chase realized he could see it through his own hand—and then used his right hand to drop the glass sphere towards Chase’s hand. It passed right through and landed in Jack’s hand instead. “Uh...”

“You gotta concentrate on catching the ball,” Jack said. “You’re just expecting to be able to stop it. That’s not enough. Actively think about touching the ball. Ready to try again?”

Chase nodded slowly. As Jack started to drop the sphere towards his hand again, Chase really thought about the sphere, imagining how it would feel when it hit his hand, his hand which was definitely really there—

The sphere landed in his palm. For a second, Chase could feel the smooth texture and weight of it. Then he startled in surprise and the sphere slipped through, into Jack’s hand beneath his. Jack grinned. “Hey, first try! That’s very good, not all ghosts can pass in the first ten tries.”

“H-ha. Thanks.” Chase smiled softly.

“Hey McLoughlin!” a voice shouted. “What’re you doing? We’re heading out!”

Jack winced. He looked at Chase apologetically. “Guess I gotta run. I’ll try to stop by as soon as I can. Sometime tomorrow, if possible, or the day after.”

“Oh. Yeah no, uh, go ahead.” Chase nodded.

“See you around, Chase,” Jack said, then turned and left.

“See you around,” Chase repeated, watching him go. He stared as the police, paramedic, and forensics guys all piled into cars that drove away. The last to go was the ambulance... the ambulance with his body.

Chase sat down on the ground. He looked down at himself. A gray shirt, jeans with holes in the knees, and plain white socks. That was what he had died in. This was what he would look like forever now. He could feel his favorite cap on his head, too. He started to reach up to take it off, but stopped. This wasn’t really his favorite cap. The same way these weren’t really his clothes, and this wasn’t really his body. What if the cap disappeared when he took it off? He didn’t want to lose it. After all... this was all he really had now, wasn’t it?

Fuck. He was dead. 

And yet... he was still here.

Chase looked up into the sky and watched the sun move gradually, letting it all sink in.

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Evening came, and the sun soon completely faded from the sky. The city lights turned on, filling the shadows with artificial brightness. For most everyday citizens, these were the quiet hours of the day. But for some, the city really came alive at night.

One such person was Jackie Sheach, who was walking through the downtown streets with complete confidence. Jackie wore his favorite red hoodie today, along with one of his many pairs of ripped jeans. His brown hair is messy, his face partially hidden by a dark beard, but his blue eyes seemed to shine in the darkness, like they were reflecting what little light there was. He was currently talking on the phone. “—No yeah I’ll be back before midnight, I promise,” he said.

“You better,” said a female voice on the other end. “You stay out way too late, Jackie. Your sleep schedule can’t handle it!”

“My sleep schedule?!” Jackie laughed. “Lily, c’mon. Do any of us have consistent sleep schedules? It’s kind of part of the whole thing, isn’t it?”

“We’re going to set a good example for Bryson,” Lily said firmly.

“The new guy?”

“Yep. You remember how it can be an adjustment. The least we can do is provide a solid foundation!”

“You sound like a youth leader,” Jackie commented.

“I might as well be a youth leader with all of you acting like children sometimes!” Lily said. “Do youth leaders even still exist? I haven’t seen any, like, youth hangout centers in years.”

“Who knows?” Jackie shrugged. “Anyway, yeah, I’ll be back by midnight. Schneep’s responsible, he’ll make sure I stick to my word. Speaking of which...” He could see his destination coming up. A hanging wooden sign with the image of a crescent moon and the words “The Harvest Moon” burned into it. The sign dangled over a plain wooden door, sandwiched between two businesses with flashing neon signs. It would have been so easy to miss it. “I’m here. Don’t want to keep him waiting.”

“See you later, Jackie,” Lily said.

“See you.”

The door to the Harvest Moon was plain, and there was no sign to say that the business was open. But there didn’t need to be. If you were here, you knew the hours. Jackie opened the door right up, revealing a staircase heading down. He walked down the twelve or so steps and arrived at a glass door that had the same moon logo as the sign. In front of the door was a Welcome mat. “Heeeere we are,” Jackie said to himself, pushing the door open. A chiming sound rang out—not a bell, more like soft wind chimes.

The Harvest Moon was a small establishment, its walls made of exposed red brick with pale wooden columns painted with some decals and covered in posters. Bar-shaped light bulbs dangled from wooden rafters. To the left and right, when walking in from the entrance, were long pale wooden tables and chairs, taking up most of the dining area. A bar was pressed against the far wall, and next to it was an open entrance leading to the wood-paneled hallway that led to the bathrooms and kitchen. Jackie could smell the mix of various pub dishes and alcoholic drinks in the air.

This time of night, the Harvest Moon was fairly empty, since it was still early for many of its patrons. Jackie walked past the tables, taking note of the few customers in here. There was a trio of younger, college-aged guys that he hadn’t seen in here before, talking casually over a plate of fries. Beneath the fried smell of the food, Jackie could pick up on a bright scent, clear and bringing to mind something that sparkled. There were two girls around Jackie’s own age, each nursing a fruity cocktail. One had the scent of ash and burning, while the other had a familiar sort of musk—though he knew she wasn’t part of Heartwoods, so maybe she was in some other pack. There was a person wearing a dramatic-looking black cloak in the corner, not eating anything. The scent coming from that direction was a mix of old books and freshly-mown grass.

And there was one more person sitting at the bar, checking a watch on his wrist. Jackie slid onto a stool next to him, recognizing the scent before he even recognized the person. Something salty, like an ocean breeze, but missing the undercurrent of blood and sweat that most creatures had. “Hey, Schneep. Sorry I’m late.”

The man turned to look at him. “I went to so much trouble to get here early just for you, you know,” he said with a scowl. He had a passing resemblance to Jackie, with his brown hair and blue eyes, but his hair and beard were much neater, his features slightly more angular. His skin had a slight gray tinge to it—just enough to notice. He wore a long black coat over a pale brown sweater and darker brown dress pants. “Do you know when I had to wake up? Sunset! And you are late?! I could have slept in.” His voice was tinged with a German accent.

“Yeahhh, sorry,” Jackie hissed. “I had a last-minute delivery I had to do. Who orders food at eight o’clock at night?”

“A lot of people I know,” Schneep muttered. “And not all of them walk in the shadows. Some of them are just night people. Did you get it there in time?”

“Uhhh... yeah?”

“Why is there a question mark at the end of that answer?”

“I mean, I got it there,” Jackie said. “But I thought it would’ve been faster to shift and run. Turns out it was not. Because people noticed and I had to take the long way to lose them.”

“Hmm.” Schneep reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, opening up an app. “That explains this.” He showed Jackie his screen. On it was a blurry photo of some giant dog-like thing running across a city street with a bag in its mouth. The photo was clearly posted on social media.

Jackie groaned. “Lily is gonna kill me.”

A woman approached them from the other side of the bar, with dark skin and a head of black curls. She wore a green button-down shirt with short sleeves and a name tag, but Jackie had been here enough to recognize her face and her petrichor scent. “Welcome back again, you two,” she said. “The usual?”

“To start with, yeah,” Jackie said. “Thanks, Dolores.”

“Yes, thank you, Dolores,” Schneep said.

Dolores nodded and smiled and turned around. She pointed at several bottles on the shelves behind the bar, and they started to move on their own, pouring into cups and mixing together. A minute later, she turned back around and deposited a glass in front of each of them. Jackie’s was a lowball glass filled with a purple-blue drink, and Schneep’s was a martini glass with a red liquid inside. “Enjoy. Are we going all night or do you have work, doc?”

Schneep shook his head. “It is my night off.”

“I, uh, need to be back home by midnight,” Jackie mumbled. “I promised Lily. She wants everyone to start having consistent sleep schedules.”

Schneep raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it hard to get a consistent schedule with the moon situation?”

“That’s what I said!” Jackie took a drink from his glass. “But we have this new guy, Bryson. She wants us to be good examples for him.”

Dolores chuckled, leaning on the bar. “New guy? You make it sound like it’s a job.”

“Well I mean... it takes up as much time as a job does,” Jackie said slowly. “Technically?”

“It does not,” Schneep muttered.

Jackie nudged him.

“Do not be like that!” Schneep said. “It is true! A transformation like that is so much more than a job. It is a change in your lifestyle.” He took a sip of his own drink. “Well, ah... how is your new guy adjusting?”

“Better than most people do, to be honest,” Jackie said. “He says he had trouble making friends before so he’s grateful that we’re all being so friendly. His only complaint is that he’s not sure how to explain it to his mom.”

Schneep chuckled. “Well, that is a relatively small problem to have in the scheme of things.” Another drink. “He is lucky to have found your pack. You are good people.”

“Daww, really?” Jackie grinned.

“Really.” Schneep nodded. “Sometimes I wish we had packs, too.”

“Dude, nothing’s stopping you guys from forming one. They’re not special to wolves. Any group of close people is a pack. But it’s just not called that, it’s called a friend group or something. But if you want a cool name, you could call it a... uh...” Jackie hesitated. “What’s the word for a group of bats?” He took his phone out of his hoodie pocket to google it while Schneep and Dolores laughed.

Before he could open up his browser, though, a notification appeared on his screen. A text message from a contact named “Medium at Large,” in a group chat. Hey do you know driving directions to Marvins place?

Jackie made a face. Schneep leaned over to look at him. “Oh? Something happen?” He looked down at his own phone, having also received the same message in the same group chat. “Ah, I see. Jackie, you should not be so unkind to Marvin.”

“I’m not unkind to him,” Jackie growled—actually growled, a rumble deep in his throat. “I consider him a friend. I just... don’t trust the smell of his magic.” Witches, like Marvin, drew power from various sources. Dolores here was an earth witch, that group of college guys from earlier were probably star witches, that woman who smelled like ash was likely a fire witch, and so on. Plant witches, river witches, love witches, chaos witches—there were all sorts of sources for magic, and all of them smelled different to Jackie’s keen senses. He liked Marvin. He really did. But he’d never smelled another witch with a magic scent like that. Something sour, almost acidic. It was strange. And Marvin had never explained what it was.

“Mm-hmm. If you consider him a friend, you should trust that he knows what he’s doing,” Schneep said, narrowing his eyes.

“I do! I trust him. I don’t trust that magic.” Jackie sighed. “I just... hope everything is... okay with it.” He shook his head. “Anyway.” He sent a reply text to the chat. Sorry Jack. You know i dont drive.

Schneep also texted a reply. Didn’t you JUST get your license? 

Jack responded instantly. Yeah which is why I need the practice. Ill need to drive to Marvins place eventually, wont I?

Well I do not have a license at all, Schneep said. So I don’t drive. So I am no help. Look it up on your GPS.

Jackie chuckled. “How old are you? In all those ages, you haven’t learned to drive?”

“I am only forty-five!” Schneep snapped. “Don’t say I am an old man!” Despite claiming that was his age, he didn’t look much older than Jackie, who was thirty.

“That’s plenty of time to learn to drive.”

“So is thirty years!”

“Hey, I’ve gotten along enough with a bus pass,” Jackie said.

Dolores raised an eyebrow. “Might be easier to deliver food to people if you had a car, y’know.”

Jackie made a face at her.

Jack replied in the chat. Fine Ill use Maps. 

Whyre you going to marvin anyway? Jackie asked. Just a visit?

I think I found someone interesting at work today.Tell you two about it later.  I want Marvins help with something first.

Jackie raised an eyebrow. He glanced over at Schneep, who looked similarly intrigued. “It is probably a ghost, yes?” Schneep asked.

“Yeah, probably.” Jackie closed out of the texts and went back to his browser. A minute passed in silence. “Oh hey, apparently a group of bats is called a colony.”

Schneep burst into laughter.

The next few hours passed with idle chatter and more drinks. The Harvest Moon gradually filled up with people, and some more workers arrived to help with the nighttime rush. But true to his word, Jackie left before midnight... mostly because Schneep dragged him out, insisting that he had enough drinks for the night.

The two of them walked down the street towards the nearest bus stop. In most cities, the buses didn’t run this late at night. But Scuabyrg was different, with such a high population of... those who were awake in the darkness. There were enough everydays who knew about them to keep things running normally.

“No no no, III’m good t’walk, I can do it on m’own!” Jackie said, leaning heavily on Schneep. 

“Alright. Go on and do it, then.” Schneep stopped walking, pushing him off a bit.

Jackie took a few stumbling steps forward... and then stopped. “I think... I was wrong.”

Schneep grinned. “At least you’re sober enough to be aware of it.”

Jackie snorted and rolled his eyes. “You an’ yourrrr... vamp tolerance. Why don’ you guys get... get it easily? Y’know.”

“It can’t pass the blood barrier,” Schneep said, his face totally straight.

Jackie laughed. “Blood barrier, that’s funny.”

“No, I am being serious. Well, partly. We cannot digest or absorb most things easily, and that includes alcohol and other drugs...”

Jackie tuned out the scientific explanation that Schneep went on. Not intentionally. He just got distracted, thinking about how different Schneep looked after some drinks. His skin was more flushed, its gray tint basically gone. And his personal scent was overwhelmed by the smell of blood. Jackie inhaled, trying to smell that oceany scent...

And picked up on something else instead.

Jackie stiffened, trying to concentrate through the drinks clouding his thoughts. Where was that smell coming from? And what was it? It was... a being, of some kind. He could tell that much. Whoever it was, they smelled almost overwhelmingly of some chemical scent—like formaldehyde. That stuff that was used to preserve dead bodies. Jackie wrinkled his nose in disgust, looking around for the source of the scent... 

And then he looked up. And saw a figure crouched on the top of a lamp post. They tensed the moment he noticed them, and then lunged.

“Schneep!” Jackie shoved him to the side, just in time to avoid the figure. Schneep yelped in surprise, and Jackie whirled on the figure, who was moving so fast. He jumped at them and halfway through the jump, he shifted. In between one blink and the next, Jackie was no longer a human, but instead a giant wolf, his thick fur colored varying shades of brown. His teeth snapped at the figure, and probably would have bitten them—but the drinks still affected him in wolf form, and his sharp reactions were a bit too slow.

The figure tackled Schneep to the ground. He cried out, and reacted instinctively, biting onto the figure’s arm. The figure pulled back, leaving the light from the lamp post behind, and—and disappeared.

Jackie stared at the spot where they’d been in shock. Then he turned to Schneep. He whined, nudging him with his snout.

“I am alright, Jackie,” Schneep said, sitting up. Some blood coated his lips, and his fangs were now visible, elongated canines on the top and bottom row of his teeth.

Jackie tilted his head, ears twitching.

“I promise I am fine.” Schneep got to his feet, patting himself down... then froze. “Son of a bitch! That motherfucker stole my wallet!”

Jackie let out a series of barks that sounded similar to laughter.

“Hey, I had about fifty pounds in there, this is not funny!” Schneep said.

Jackie rolled his eyes, a human expression that looked so strange on his wolf form’s face. Who carried cash these days?

“Oh shut up,” Schneep said. He sighed. “At least we know something.” He wiped his mouth on his black coat sleeve. “That was probably another vampire who attacked me. One with a distinct bloodtaste. So, that means I will have to report petty theft to the Night Council. Great.”

Well. That was surprising. But it was getting closer and closer to midnight. Jackie continued walking to the bus stop.

“Change back, Jackie, even the night buses will balk at a giant wolf,” Schneep said.

Jackie shook his head. It was easier to walk on four legs when drunk than two.

“Jackie,” Schneep said in a warning voice.

Jackie broke into a loping run.

“Get back here!” Schneep shouted, running after him. “I am not going down as the man who got on the bus with a giant wolf!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was a slow night at the shop so far, just like most nights. Which was good. Marvin owned and ran Magnificent Magics by himself, if things got too busy here he’d have to hire more people, and that wasn’t in his nature. He knew where all his wares were, and had an exact way of organizing things that an employee might not follow. Though he did sometimes consider hiring someone to take care of the cats that showed up...

“Higgins, no.” Marvin picked up one of the cats in question, who was staring at a second cat with his tail flicking wildly. “Leave Fluffington alone.” Even though there were about five to eight cats in the shop at any point in time, he only actually owned two of them. Higgins was one, a round white cat with gray patches on his coat. The other was Sam, a black-and-orange tortoiseshell with big green eyes. She was upstairs right now, and not bothering the other cats. Marvin was not sure why so many cats showed up here. But he was happy to take care of them whenever they stopped by.

Sometimes he thought his shop was more like a cat cafe than an actual shop. But in reality, the only cat decorations were the trees in the corner of the rooms. The rest of the shop was a combination of a bookstore and a witch’s hut. Bookcases lined the walls, filled with all sorts of books. Paper cover, hard cover, leather cover. Various trinkets also sat on the shelves. Candles and crystals and bottles and incense and more. More things hung from the ceiling, mostly bundles of plants. There was a counter at the back of the room with more of these trinkets, and a cash register for purchases. Two doors sat in the wall behind the counter, one leading upstairs to Marvin’s apartment, the other leading to a bathroom/cat caretaking room. The main body of the shop was filled with small round tables, all covered with silky tablecloths in various jewel tones. Some of them had more books or trinkets, but some were empty, meant for the customers to sit at.

“Here you go.” Marvin sat Higgins down on the nearest chair, bending down to drop him on the cushion. Higgins started batting at Marvin’s hair that dangled around his face, and Marvin jerked backwards. “Come on, Higgins.” He pushed his hair back. “It’s not even that long.” The cats were the reason he kept his hair shorter than usual, and done in a half-up style. To minimize cats messing with it while still looking stylish.

As Marvin dealt with Higgins, another cat, Draco, hopped onto a table, climbed onto a stack of books, and used it as a springboard to jump to a bookshelf. The book stack toppled under the force of the jump.

“Hey!” Marvin whirled around, taking Draco off the shelves. “I know you like to be tall, but you have to be careful getting up there.” He put him on the floor, then gathered up the books that Draco knocked over.

As he restacked the books, he heard the shop door open behind him. “One moment!” he called, finishing up the stack before he turned around. He grinned. “How can I help you?”

The man who walked in was unfamiliar to Marvin. A new customer, how fun. He wore a fancier outfit: a white button-up shirt with frilly cuffs, over which was a blue vest with faint, darker blue patterns. There was a neat bow-tie around his neck, holding up a high collar. His dark brown hair was neat and straight, and he had a dark mustache that curled at the end. Blue eyes looked around the shop with curiosity. As Marvin observed this man, he noticed the gray tint to his skin. A vamp, for sure. Maybe one of the older ones, judging by the style he dressed in. 

After a moment of awkward silence, the man walked up to Marvin. He reached into his pocket and took out a small spiral notebook with a pattern of stars on the cover, as well as a pen. He wrote something down and showed it to Marvin. Hello. My apologies, but I am unable to speak. Can you tell me more about this shop?

“Oh! Alright.” Marvin nodded. He raised his hands and started to gesture: speaking in British Sign Language. Can you understand this? Do you want to speak this way?

The man looked surprised, then laughed silently. He set the notebook and pen down on the nearest table, and began to sign with a bit more flourish than Marvin did. I can hear you fine, you do not need to sign as well. But thank you for asking.

“No problem.” Marvin flashed a smile. “Ayway, uh, yeah, I can tell you about the shop. This is my place. We sell all sorts of magical supplies. Mostly stuff that’s useful for witches, I’m not sure if there’s much a vampire would find of use. Oh! But I do sell blood remover and potions.”

The man nodded. He wandered around the edge of the shop. Some of the cats walked up to sniff at him. He looked down at them and smiled a friendly, closed-lip smile. Most of them hissed and ran off, but Higgins kept sniffing him.

“Sorry, most of them aren’t vamp-trained,” Marvin said. “And, uh, Higgins isn’t for sale.”

They’re for sale? the man asked, interested.

“Only as pets,” Marvin said firmly. “I don’t do blood here.”

The man looked horrified at the implication.

“Oh, you’re offended! Good.” Marvin laughed. Vampires were tricky to deal with, morally, given their diet. “So you’re a blood bank person? Not an animal person?”

The man nodded. When possible. You know how it is.

“Hmm. I probably don’t. I haven’t lived like you have.”

I see. Well, sometimes there is... desperation, the man said. But I try to avoid that.

Marvin nodded slowly. 

May I have your name, sir? The man asked.

“I’m Marvin. Marvin Fletcher. I’m the owner.” Marvin gestured to himself. He was wearing one of his favorite outfits today. An open button-up short-sleeved shirt with an art nouveau flower design on it. Underneath was a sleeveless black turtleneck. He hoped that this was making a good impression on the new customer. “And you?”

The man picked up the notebook and pen again, writing down his name and showing it to Marvin. Jameson Jackson. Some people call me JJ.

“Alliteration! Nice.” Marvin grinned. “Let me know if you need anything, Mr. Jameson Jackson.”

Jameson nodded. He continued to look around the shop, taking an interest in some of the books. Marvin took care to have a lot of variety for purchase. A lot of them were spellbooks for witches, but there were also studies on magical creatures, histories of the shadow world, and some popular fictional stories set in the shadow world, just for fun. Jameson flipped through some of the books, reading the first couple pages or the blurb on the cover before putting them back.

The shop door soon opened again. “Marvin!” A man walked into the shop, wearing a black T-shirt and jacket. “I have something I—”

Jameson suddenly dropped the book he was looking at, staring at the newcomer in... what can only be described as surprise and fear.

“Hey, Jack,” Marvin said, then looked at Jameson. “Don’t worry about him. This is Jack, he’s a meddie, and a friend of mine.”

“Uh... hi,” Jack said slowly, looking at Jameson. “Didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Jameson shook his head. He bent down and picked up the book he dropped, returning it to its place on the shelf. It’s alright, he said.

“Oh, BSL, huh? I’m not as fluent as Marv is, sorry.”

“He just said it’s alright,” Marvin translated.

“Yeah, I got that.”

“Well, anyway.” Marvin decided to move on. “What brings you to my shop now? I know this is regular hours for me, but it’s starting to get late for you.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “It’s only nine o’clock. I would’ve been here sooner, but I took some wrong turns.”

“Wait... did you drive here?” Marvin blinked. “I thought you still only had a permit.”

“Nope! I got my license on Tuesday, remember?” Jack beamed proudly.

“Ah. A whole three days ago. Good. Good good good.” Marvin nodded slowly. “Well, uh... what’s so important that you had to drive here?”

Jack walked over to a table at the back, talking as he went. “I had work today. Apparently there was a death down on Gold Sky Street, so you know, of course, I have to check it out.” He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Kind of a sad scene. The guy who lived there had probably been gone for a while, Jenkins estimates at least twelve hours, and nobody had realized he was gone until a solicitor came trying to sell stuff and saw the body through the window.”

“God,” Marvin muttered. He noticed Jameson listening in with curiosity, though Jameson was clearly trying to hide it. “So was his ghost there?”

“Yep.” Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a cloudy glass sphere about the size of a golf ball. “And he was a pretty strong ghost. Full-body apparition without even trying. Knew right away he was gone and, uh, freaked out about it. Generally acted really alive.” He set the sphere on the table. “I did the touch test with him, too, and he got it right away.”

“Really?” Marvin tilted his head, curious. Jack had talked with him about the ghosts he sometimes encountered on his job before. Enough for Marvin to know that this was a very rare occurrence.

“Yeah, and something else weird. The guy didn’t remember his death.”

“And that’s... Why is that weird?”

“Even weaker ghosts know their death,” Jack said. “Even if they die in their sleep or die when somehow drugged. They instinctively know the details. This guy—oh, his name is Chase, by the way—didn’t know who killed him. Most murdered ghosts know that.”

Jameson started in surprise. You were at a murder scene?!

Marvin laughed. “Yeah, Jameson. Jack works for the forensics, he gets called out to murder scenes all the time.”

“Well, uh, the detectives don’t think this was a murder scene,” Jack said slowly. “They think that Chase got super drunk and uh...” He made a finger gun and pointed it at the side of his head.

“Oh god,” Marvin whispered.

“But Chase is insisting he didn’t do that,” Jack said. “And if he really did get blackout drunk and do that, he would know that’s what happened. But he doesn’t know anything else, either. So maybe he did and something is fucking with his memory? I don’t know.” He tapped the glass sphere. “But that’s where I wanted your help, Marvin.”

“You got some of his essence in the sensor?” Marvin asked.

“Mm-hmm. Can you tell me if there was... anything magical about his death?”

“On it.” Marvin walked around the counter at the back of the shop, picking up something he’d left behind there. A white mask shaped like a cat’s face, with some markings on it. The four card suits—heart, club, diamond, spade—were drawn on the forehead in black, while the ears of the mask were filled in with green and there was a black nose and six curvy green whiskers. When he tilted it in the light, it seemed to shimmer with more green markings, but they were hard to read. He walked back over to where Jack was sitting and sat down at a chair across from him.

Should I leave for this? Jameson asked, looking a bit nervous.

“No, don’t worry, it’s not like this is a secret spell or anything,” Marvin laughed. He put the mask on his face, adjusting it so it was comfortable. “You could watch, even—if you’re okay with that, Jack.”

“Yeah, why not?” Jack shrugged.

“Great! That’s be fifty pounds to observe, then.”

Jameson made a choking sound. Are you serious?!

“Absolutely not.” Marvin grinned.

Jameson stared—and then laughed. It was a strange, wheezing sound, clearly genuine but with no voice behind it. You’re a right funny man, aren’t you?

“I can be.” Marvin stretched his arms, wiggling his fingers and loosening up for magic. His short sleeves left his forearms and hands bare, showing off the tattoos he had. Celtic knot-like designs wrapped around his arms, like he was wearing four bracelets on each arm, from elbow to wrist. On the back of each hand was a unique design: a spell circle on his left, and an eye design surrounded by swirls on his right. Green light flickered over all the visible tattoos, like oil on water, and then the eye design on his right hand began to glow a solid green. He concentrated, passing his right hand over the sensor.

Can I ask what this is? Jameson asked, not bothering to hide his curiosity.

“This glass ball? It’s a sensor,” Jack said. “If there’s a ghost in an area, you feel it get unnaturally cold. And if a ghost directly touches it, it absorbs some of their essence. Not enough to cause any trouble for the ghost, of course.”

While he talked, Marvin muttered the appropriate spell words under his voice. His eyes flared green as well, bright as the glow coming from his tattoo. His vision blurred for a moment, and then cleared up. He could see lights in the cloudy glass of the sensor now. Most of them were faint, barely there, really. Leftover essence from other ghosts that Jack has used the sensor on. But most of the sensor was taken up by a bright yellow-green light. “Whoa.” Marvin blinked, leaning backwards.

“What is it?” Jack asked.

“There’s definitely some magic involved with this,” Marvin said. “This ghost’s essence is strong, alright. And there’s something different about it... What did you say his name was? Chase?”

“Yep. Chase Brody.”

“Was he an everyday or something else?”

“Uhhh... far as I could tell. I mean, if you’re not an everyday, you’re less likely to be surprised when you die and become a ghost,” Jack figured.

“You wouldn’t be surprised,” Marvin pointed out.

“Well I’m special. Can you tell what’s different about his essence?”

“Hmm...” Marvin frowned. “Judging by the color... maybe there’s some necromancy, of some kind? The shade is a bit off. You don’t normally get an in-between color like this. It kind of looks sickly, which is why it might be death magic...”

Jameson looked at Marvin. So... you’re a death witch? he asked.

“Huh? Oh, nope.” Marvin looked up at him and grinned. “You don’t need to be a death witch to do this spell, to look at ghost essence. You don’t even need to be a death witch to do necromancy, but it makes it much easier.” He turned his attention back to the sensor. “Hmm... I... don’t know the specifics of this magic, though. There’s not enough of a sample for me to figure it out.”

“Well that makes sense,” Jack said. “It was only in contact with him for like, three seconds total at most.”

“Really? And it left such a strong imprint?” Marvin looked at the sensor again in a new light. “You weren’t kidding about him being a strong ghost. Hmm...” He bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. “I don’t know what’s going on with this guy, but I’m sure that some sort of magic has fucked with him in some way.”

Jack nodded. “Weird. Do you... think we’ll need to report it to the Night Council?”

“I dunno. Depends on what spell it is, and if it was done with consent.”

Jack frowned. “Well Chase doesn’t remember what happened, so I doubt he wanted this to happen. Otherwise he would’ve made sure he remembered after he fucking died. But that’s not exactly proof, is it?” He went quiet for a moment. “I think... I need to help him.”

“You help a lot of ghosts, Jack,” Marvin pointed out.

“No, I mean... more than I usually do. The guy’s lost. He says he really cares about his family, but he lived alone, and his house, uh... wasn’t in the best condition. Not to mention this weird magic you just found.” Jack paused. “I want to see what I can do.”

Marvin nodded. “Alright. Well, let me know if there’s anything else I can do. Be happy to help.” He pushed his mask back onto his forehead.

A cat jumped up onto the table and sniffed the sensor for a moment before slowly reaching out with a paw—

“Luna, no.” Marvin grabbed her, pulling her back into his lap.

Jack laughed. “That’s a new one.”

“Want her?” Marvin held up the black cat. “I’m calling her Luna Void but you can change that if you want.”

“Nah, my apartment doesn’t allow pets.” Jack paused. “Though I was wondering about getting a new place.”

“Hmm. Fair.” Marvin looked over at Jameson, who was standing idly nearby. “Want a cat? I know I said they weren’t vamp-trained earlier, but I could put in the effort.”

Jameson smiled softly. No thanks. My roommate probably won’t take kindly to an animal.

Marvin raised an eyebrow. A roommate, huh? “Well good to know.” He put Luna Void down on the floor again. “A question for you, by the way, Jameson Jackson. Are you new in town or what?”

I’m fairly new, yes, Jameson said. Only been here for about a week. I’m getting to know the layout of the city. How did you know that?

“Between me and Jack we know a lot of those who walk in the shadows in Scuabyrg. So you were either really reclusive, or you just arrived.”

Jameson laughed silently. Clever.

Jack stood up. “Well, uh, I’m gonna head home now, Marvin. Nice to meet you, Jameson. If you ever need help with stuff, you can reach out to me. Uh, hang on. I have cards for this.” He tapped his pockets, then pulled out a card and passed it over. “My phone number’s on that. Do you have a phone?”

Jameson reached into his pocket and pulled out... a phone that looked like it was from the early 2000s. The kind that slid open to form a keyboard. Marvin held back a laugh.

“Yeah, that will work,” Jack said. “Anyway, I can help with a lot of different stuff. Other everydays tend to listen to me, and I can help with ghost stuff of course, and anything else you might need my meddie powers for.”

Thank you, Jameson said, and gave another close-lipped smile.

“You can stop by here anytime, too,” Marvin said. “As long as you’re not a dick about stuff, but you seem chill enough. I can do spells and card readings for a price, but I don’t do the French or Thoth arcana, only traditional cards and crystaleye.”

I’ll keep that in mind. Lovely to meet you. Jameson tilted his head. I think I’ll leave for the night but maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.

“See you!” Marvin waved, and Jameson headed out. “Bye, Jack!”

“Goodbye!” Jack also waved as he left.

The shop was empty again. Well... except for the cats. Marvin had barely a quiet moment before he saw two of them bolt across the floor, the smaller one jumping on the bigger one. “Bee, Ragamuffin, no!” he shouted, getting up. “Not by those shelves, you’ll break stuff!”

A few more customers dropped in as the night wore on, but there wasn’t much notable. Marvin closed the shop at one am, as he always did, then headed upstairs to relax a little before going to bed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Scuabyrg seemed like a lovely city so far. Its name was a bit peculiar—he didn’t realize it was pronounced ‘skya-berg’ until tonight—but Jameson had heard stranger names in his long life. He’d spent the past couple nights exploring the area, getting to know the shadowy haunts before returning to the place they were staying in the early hours of the morning.

Tonight, it was about four thirty when he made his way back. Their “home” was one of many identical townhouses on Steward Street, an area in the northwest of the city that was very old. They dated back before the days when England had a window tax: the more windows a building had, the more property tax the owners had to pay. So many people bricked up their windows to avoid paying what they couldn’t afford. It wasn’t a pleasant place to live for most people, but Jameson wasn’t ‘most people.’

JJ walked up to a three-story brown brick house with two metal letters on the side designating it number 77. The window frames persisted, but they were filled not with glass, but with identical brown bricks. Jameson reached into his pockets and pulled out a set of brass keys, unlocking the door and heading inside.

It was dark, but JJ was used to seeing in the dark. Even so, he turned on the lights for comfort. The furniture in the living room was old, with peeling upholstery and worn wood. In the corner was a small kitchenette with stained appliances. The stove was covered with dust, but the fridge was good as new. He made a detour to grab something from it, then headed up the stairs.

As he passed by the second story landing—

“Think fast, bitch!”

There was a blur of motion in the corner of his vision. Only the warning shout kept him from being smacked in the head, as even his supernaturally fast reflexes barely gave him time to duck. The small item hit the wall then fell to the ground. A voice laughed. “Oh shit, JJ, you did it! Wasn’t expecting that!”

JJ looked over at the laughter. Standing in an open doorway was a man with wild brown hair and grayish skin, his wide eyes blue with a ring of green around the middle of the pupil. He was wearing one of his favorite outfits: an overly large black leather jacket, a black tank top with the words “Bite Me” written on it in red, black jeans held up by a belt with a silvery buckle, and tall black boots with inch-thick soles. He leaned against the doorframe, grinning wildly to show off his fangs. JJ froze for a moment, then forced himself to relax. Hello, Anti, he said in sign language.

“Aw, you seem so sad to see me!” Anti’s grin widened. “Were you worried I would leave you?”

No. No, he definitely wasn’t worried about that. Where have you been? JJ asked calmly. For the past three nights, Anti hadn’t come back to the townhouse at sunrise. He would think that Anti had been caught in the sunlight, but he knew better to think that Anti would be so foolish. He was probably getting to know the city his own way. And honestly, Jameson had enjoyed the nights without him.

“None of your fucking business, JJ!” Anti laughed. “Hey, look at that.” He pointed at the thing that he threw at JJ’s head. 

Jameson looked down at it, then slowly bent over to pick it up again without fully turning away from Anti. It was a dark brown leather wallet.

“Got that from some vamp fucker earlier tonight. He had fifty pounds in there!” Anti was suddenly holding a handful of bills, pinching them between two fingers. Then, just as quickly, he put them back in his pocket. “Fucking moron. We should go out to eat soon.”

JJ raised an eyebrow. Then he looked down at the wallet, examining it for anything else. There was a debit card in there—Anti didn’t like those, said they were too traceable—and some other card. He took that out. This was some sort of work ID, for a place called St. Damian’s Hospital. The blurry picture on the ID showed a man with brown hair and glasses, and the name identified the person as Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein, of the Haematology Department. So that’s who the wallet belonged to.

“What? Wanna keep it?” Anti asked. “Go for it. Fucking useless things, anyway.” He shrugged. “Anyway. What’ve you been up to?”

Exploring the city, JJ said.

“Find anything fun?”

Not your type of fun.

Anti narrowed his eyes. “Oh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

JJ looked at him. You know we don’t enjoy the same activities.

“And what’re you implying?” When JJ didn’t say anything, Anti growled. “Fine. Shut up, then.” His eyes momentarily shifted color, his irises becoming bright red. “It’s getting early, go to bed. See if I fucking care.”

Jameson felt his muscles tense. Without another world, he turned and continued up the stairs to the third floor.

Even though this was the nicest story out of all of the floors in the run-down old townhouse, Anti had elected to claim the second floor instead—the story with a hole in the wooden floor, a smaller bedroom, and water-damaged walls. Jameson hadn’t said anything about it, just in case that would prompt Anti to say something like “hmm, that’s a good point, I do deserve the best floor!” and kick him out.

The third floor had a central living area, with soft sofas and sheer white curtains framing the bricked-up windows. There was no central lighting, but Anti had ‘acquired’ some lamps when Jameson commented on how they should have them, if just for show if nothing else. There was a nice desk tucked away in the corner, with tall dark wood bookshelves on either side. Jameson hadn’t yet been able to fill them with any trinkets or books, but maybe he could pick up some from that shop he found earlier in the night. Maybe he’d be able to actually hang onto the books this time, instead of being forced to leave them behind when they moved.

The one room on the third floor was the bedroom. He headed straight there, despite not being all that tired, opening up the door and ducking inside. There wasn’t much in here, just an old claw-footed dresser, a four-poster bed in the center, and a standing mirror. A mirror that must have had a silver backing, because Jameson wasn’t able to see his reflection in it.

He changed out of his outfit and into a set of matching pajamas—one of the few things he’d been able to grab when Anti suddenly decided to move them from their last city. Then he climbed into bed. The blue comforter had not been taken with them from the last city. It had also been ‘acquired’ by Anti, along with some pillows. Jameson had no idea why Anti listened to his requests for things to put in their house. Not when he didn’t listen to anything else Jameson asked. But he was going to take what he could get, and not question it.

Jameson stared up at the ceiling, eyes tracing the pattern of stains on the old plaster. He wasn’t tired yet. But the sun would be rising soon. So he might as well try.

He could hear Anti walking around on the floor below, doing who-knows-what. But he tried to put him out of his mind. He tried to think about other things. Like... like that little shop he’d stumbled across. Magnificent Magics. He hadn’t been in a witch’s shop in a couple decades, they had changed so much. Maybe... maybe he would be able to visit again some other time. Maybe he could finally have someone else to talk to.

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Always There - Chapter Seventeen: S.Snape

Summary: Y/N Potter was left with a baby to care for after her brother and sister-in-law were murdered by Voldemort. One person was there for her, a person she didn’t expect but soon became her comfort person, Severus Snape. During Harry’s third year at Hogwarts and her third year as Herbology professor, a few old friends come around again. Y/N has to handle the feelings of these old friends being around again as well as handle her feelings for a certain potions master all while she tries to hide these things from her godson.

Series Masterlist

My full Masterlist

Pairings: Severus Snape x Female Professor Reader, Potter!Reader x friend!Remus, Sister!Reader x James Potter, Potter!Reader x Friend!Sirius

Chapter Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader(No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, Harry growing up in a loving home, Arthur's attack, mentions of Voldemort, not proofread,

Series Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader (No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, OOC Snape, Harry grows up in a loving environment, mentions of death and murder, poorly written angst, Remus is a shitty friend, poorly written pining,

Please let me know how I can improve my writing and being more inclusive to POC as I am whiter than white. Please also let me know if I have to add more to the warnings! My messages are open as well as my asks!

I am starting a taglist so leave either a comment or something in my asks if you would like to be tagged in any of my works or just this series!

Author's Note: My updates for this will be slowing down a bit during the month of December. Because I am writing 25 days of fics, the updates for this will be slower than usual. I am trying my hardest to write for both but please be patient with me.

Please let me know how I can improve or if you find any errors! Correct me, don't be afraid to! I want to improve my writing and become a better writer so any feedback or advise is welcomed!

Word Count: 1300

My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

It was approaching winter so that meant colder weather and holiday decorations going up around Hogwarts. However, one night, Y/N and Severus were woken up by frantic knocking on their door. She was discombobulated as she opened the door to reveal Minerva, who had a concerned look on her face.

“Dumbledore wishes to see you both in his office, right away. This is urgent,” She told her, Y/N was wide awake with her tone of voice, rushing to wake Severus as the three of them rushed to the headmaster’s office. Harry was there, completely spaced out.

“What’s going on? Harry, love, can you tell me what happened?” She asked her nephew. He snapped out of it looking at his aunt with a wild look in his eyes. She didn’t recognize him for a moment, his eyes seeming snake-like. 

“I saw Mr. Weasley getting attacked by a snake at the ministry. It was Voldemort’s snake, what’s wrong with me?” Harry asked his aunt desperately.

“Nothing my love, nothing at all,” She reassured him before turning to Dumbledore, “do you have anyone checking on Arthur? Do we think this is a dream or if Harry actually saw this happen in real time?”

“I sent someone to check on Arthur and I’ve gotten word that he was taken to St. Mungos. Severus, the boy needs to start occlumency,” Albus explained. 

“Now? Can’t it wait until morning? He’s clearly not ready to start learning something new right now, he needs to rest as do I,” Severus questioned.

“Yes, now. We don’t know if Voldemort knows about the connection he has with the boy, we need to get a headstart now before he realizes the connection.”

“The boy has a name! His name is Harry and I agree with Severus. Both of them need to rest before they start this! It’s too much for both of them just waking up!” Y/N argued with the bearded man, frustrated with how he was talking about her nephew as if he wasn’t in the room. 

“They must start tonight, that is final!”

“Listen to me!” Harry screamed, everyone falling silent in shock. “I don’t know if Voldemort knows about the connection because I barely knew, I can do it tonight as long as you can Uncle Sev.”

Severus nodded and ushered the boy to the dungeons where they would begin their lessons. Y/N shook her head at the headmaster before making her way to the potions classroom where she knew Severus and Harry would be. She walked in and silently sat at the back of the room as she watched the two most important people try a new method to keep Harry safe. She knew it was starting to take a toll on both of them, both very obviously tired even though they had enough energy to argue with one another.

Y/N knew what it was like to pry into the minds of others and have her mind pried into as well. It wasn’t fun. She knew it was rough on Severus because he didn’t want to see the boy suffering with these memories he was seeing. Most of Harry’s memories were on the happier side, especially the ones with his aunt in them, but he also possessed some dark memories as well, such as watching the dark lord rise and Cedric dying in front of him. 

As the two were getting tired, they called it a night, Y/N dropping a kiss on his forehead before sending him back to the Gryffindor tower. Severus walked up to her and pulled her into his arms. “A lot of his memories are of you,” He said quietly as he buried his head in her neck.

“Good ones?” She asked, resting her head on his.

“Most were. Come, let’s go back to bed.” The two of them let go of their embrace, taking each other’s hand and walked back to their quarters. He was able to fall asleep rather quickly but she had a hard time trying to. She was restless, her mind racing. If Harry was aware of the connection with Voldemort, was the dark lord aware of the connection too? If the dark lord knew about the connection, would he use it to his advantage? Would he manipulate Harry into thinking that someone important to him has been attacked, has been killed?

The next morning as Severus awoke from his sleep, he reached out to her side of the bed only to find it cold and empty. He picked his head up to find her staring out of one of the few windows in their quarters, watching as the creatures swam by. He sat up and let out a yawn before getting out of bed to join her. “What’s on your mind my love?” Severus asked as he sat beside her.

“Does Voldemort have any idea that there’s a connection between him and Harry? That Harry has been seeing these things through Nagini before he even knew about a connection?” She questioned.

“I don’t know, there’s a chance he doesn’t know yet but I think he will catch on soon,” He told her with honesty, “But, there is no reason to worry about it just yet. Harry has already left for Black’s place, so let’s get ready to meet him there. I know you’re missing your friends.”

With that, the two of them got ready together, packed a bag for the break and took a portkey to 12 Grimmauld Place. She was greeted with a tight hug from Sirius who had missed her greatly over the last few months and then an equally tight hug from Remus. Severus took their bags to the guest room as Y/N caught up with her friends. 

“Snivellus proposed?” Sirius asked her as he inspected her ring, his voice showing nothing but shock and surprise.

“What did I tell you about that name, Siri! Stop calling him that!” She scolded her friend. “But yes, Severus proposed. We were thinking about eloping because of the state of the wizarding world.”

“And he didn’t think to ask your two best friends for permission?”

“He asked me, maybe if you weren’t such an ass to him maybe he would’ve asked you,” Remus chimed in. 

“He asked you?” Sirius and Y/N asked in unison.

“Of course I did. Remus is like a brother to her, I had to ask him,” Severus said as he descended the stairs, “And I asked Harry of course.”

“Speaking of, where is my boy? I want to make sure he’s okay,” Y/N asked after realizing she had yet to see her nephew.

“He went with the Weasley’s to visit Arthur. He’s doing better, should be home in a few days,” Remus replied, “Now I think we should leave our men alone to have a chat. We need to catch up without those two in the way.” The two walked off to the kitchen leaving Sirius and Severus alone.

“Remus was right, you know, I would’ve asked your permission if you weren’t such an asshole. Other than Harry, you were the first person I thought of to ask permission for her hand.”

“I never realized how shitty I was to you. I’m sorry, Severus. If you did ask, I would’ve said yes with no hesitation. You make her happy, you keep her sane and you’ve been there for her longer than I was able to be. Thank you for taking such good care of my sister,” Sirius apologized, his voice sincere. He meant every word he had said, knowing he wasn’t always the nicest to Severus. He wanted to make things right before the potions master became a permanent part of his life because Y/N would be a permanent part of both of theirs.

taglist

@acupnoodle @chxelsxaa @fluffyrat365 @fanficwriter5 @atanukileaf @jspidey5 @mija-novella @leo4242564 @crazyunsexycool @livillain00 @bigsimperika

[acamaryseinteery]

This fic started as a fun rp and months(or a year) later I decided to make a fic out of it. I once stated that when the 8 chapter is out, I'll release it to public.

I studied as much as I could about the Saami culture to be as accurate as possible and also create a new lore and keeping up the fact that Eret's culture is also part inuity which affects his mother's looks and culture and such.

I hope you guys will like it.

The credits to this fic also belong to the @skysiren41, who has OC Brynja and Naga in the fic with Brynja dating Eret and Naga being a hybrid of a Light fury and Stormcutter.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54579286/chapters/138293809

And because AO3 is acting up, here's the chapter 8:

When others arrived they found them sleeping and cuddled together.

"Aww how sweet." Fishlegs smiled.

"Well looks like we found them." Hiccup said, sounding relieved. He was really worried when he didn´t see them come back.

"Do you think he's nude again?" Asked out loud Ruff and others cringed.

"Come on, you're better than that!" Frowned Astrid but she was blushing.

"Ew don't remind me." Snotlout shuttered, remembering how they found out.

Three months after Eret moved to Berk, the Berk got swarmed with wild dragons who didn´t know where to be since the main Alpha fell and Toothless was still getting a hang of his status. They were wrecking things, nesting in the ships and buildings and fighting over the streets to make it their territorium. Clearly they were now considering Berk to be their new nest.

Let's just say that it was a very hectic morning and in the hurry Hiccup and Snotlout forgot to knock. The avoiding looks that day were making everyone else uncomfortable, Eret included.

Others shuddered too and then jumped when they heard. "Would you mind keeping it down? Since you came here you're loud." said Eret with his eyes closed, hearing everything they said.

They all blushed embarrassed when they realized he was awake.

"Right...sorry." Hiccup said and headed upstairs, catching a glimpse of smirk on Eret's face. Undoubtedly from the story.

Later on during the night Eret woke up from the same nightmare again but this time he didn't scream and just panted.

He got dressed and went for a fresh air to calm down, being as quiet as possible to not wake anyone up.

After he left Hiccup woke up to the sound of the closed door. Looking around he noticed Eret was gone and carefully got out of bed to follow him, seeing him walk to the shore. After a while Eret stopped by the pebble beach and sat down, hugging his knees and looking at the deep dark ocean enlightened by the full moon.

Hiccup walked up and cleared his throat. "Hey."

Eret winced a bit in surprise and sighed, still being back to him "Hey..."

Hiccup came over and sat beside him. “I thought I'd find you here. It's not the first time I have found you on the shore. What is it, the sky? Sand?”

“....... The sea, actually. I like the sound of the waves beating against the shore.”

"Oh……… I'm sorry about what happened. As soon as we stop the Jormungard, you don't have to see your dad again."

Eret sighed deeply and then explained slowly. "It's not all that. Most of my life I've tried to make him proud and show him I am capable of more things than we do here. But as I got older he kept reminding me to not dream so high and to focus on the clan. Maybe if I listened instead of leaving, he wouldn't disown me...."

"You did a lot to help us, you helped to defeat Drago, twice, you brought us here, you're far from a disappointment. All that is left to do is to let your dad know that." He said, hoping to light that spark of hope that's usually sparkling in Eret's eyes. But none appeared as he didn't look very convinced and looked away instead.

Seeing that reaction Hiccup pulled out a stronger weapon.

His own dad issues.

"You might find it hard to believe but I know what you're going through. Sort of."

Seeing Eret turn his head around to look at him with mild confusion, he continued.

"Back then before Toothless, I was constantly trying to be one of the Vikings. Back then killing a dragon was everything I wanted when it was actually just to prove myself that I'm useful, that I belong and I am like them. Like my dad, who by the way after finding out I teamed up with a dragon, disowned me too. I swear I never felt so horrible in my entire life. I was so hurt, especially because it was by my own father..... But I didn't let that stop me from saving Toothless and defeating the Red Death. After he saw the real me in the saddle and how I was capable of doing what no Viking ever could, he realized his mistake and for the first time in my life told me that he's proud of me. Truly proud. I'm sure your dad will come around. And when after he sees the real you, a guy who despite his bad life choices and being disowned still decides to save his people, he'll realize how much he actually he's gonna miss you more than he admits and will regret it.”

The silence suddenly felt heavy after the speech, so many emotions let out of nowhere made the air quite thick. Hiccup couldn't read from Eret's expression what was happening in his head at the moment. Either he was shocked to hear about the disowning or he wondered if Hiccup was right. Or something different. Sometimes Eret was really hard to read, especially because he´s unpredictable in his actions and words and could punch him on the spot within seconds. That happened to Snotlout once. He deserved it though.

Deciding to switch a topic Hiccup spoke up more calmly.

"So...that needle thing...what is it?"

Eret's eyes narrowed in surprise, making him stutter "Oh, um. It's nothing important."

"It must be, you leave when you're getting tired or dizzy for a few minutes, but after that you're fine." Pointed out Hiccup and on seeing the conflict in the other man he added "Please, we just want to know if you're okay."

"So you noticed......... It's stupid" Eret mumbled, looking really ashamed of it. Despite that Hiccup pushed more on him, not leaving without an answer this time. "Whatever it is, it doesn't matter how stupid it is as long as you're alright."

Eret looked at him briefly and then leaned back to fix his hair, a habit he did when he was nervous. "The thing is that I'm not. I was born with something my people call the Fainting curse. My body is missing something that can help me stay conscious during some adrenaline activities and work normally inside. Ever since my parents found out they were making sure that it won't affect my life that much so they both looked for any cure but all they found was a temporary solution that helps me for 12 hours. Lately it's been shortening from 4 to 8 because I've been running low on Slumber root and the Violet tongue doesn't grow anywhere but here, so it's not ideal. Brynja, Saami and the chief are the only ones who know. I never told anyone else because I was always ashamed of it."

Staring at him shocked Hiccup but then put his hand on his shoulder "I understand. When was the last time you took this medicine?" He asked worriedly.

"Not too long after I left the campfire. I was on my way there completely dizzy with the world spinning, basically leaning against the walls to stay up when my fath-I mean the chief found me during his guard and tried to help me. Next thing I know is that everything turns black and cold. After Brynja gave me the medicine I felt better but fully conscious after a few hours. Brynja told me he didn't stay there for long and just told her how to prepare the new meds." He confessed.

"Guess he's still looking out for you." He pointed out, smiling a little until Eret's response.

"As a chief yes because after all I'm still Saami. But as a father......." He pulled his knees higher to curl up in a ball.

Hiccup looked at him sadly, then looked out into the ocean. "Well...you still have us."

He looked at him and tried to smile a bit "Yeah..."

Considering he was taller than him he appreciated the how Hiccup kept his hand on his shoulder to show support.

He then looked at the sea and asked "Do you really think we can deal with that giant?"

"I have absolutely no idea." Hiccup admitted seriously. "But we need to show them it's real at least."

"You should really stop making promises that get us in situations like this." Pointed out Eret annoyed.

"Yeah I know, I regret everytime after I say it. But we have a plan to lure the Jormungard with a ship filled with fake sailors, then one of us will get a scale or tooth while it's distracted." he told him.

Eret sighed, remembering something grandpa told him.

"That won't work. Jormungard knows exactly when there is a northman in the boat and when it's fake. My grandpa back in his day tried it.You'll have to get alive bait that is-" he then realizes and frowns at him "Don't even think about it."

"-that means you need to be on the boat." Finished Hiccup the unspoken end, realizing what he is asking his friend to do after the words left his mouth.

Eret groaned loudly and got up, walking back to bed “Yeah no. Not a chance, Hiccup.” He called.

The next day when the others woke up Hiccup told them what they'll have to do. Noone was on board with being on board.

"What!? Are you crazy!?" Snotlout said shocked.

"I know it's dangerous but it's the only way we can get the evidence we need." Hiccup said.

"Face it Hiccup, it's a suicide mission." Brynja said seriously.

"But so far it's the only plan we have." Hiccup muttered, seeing Eret go to them, still sore "That's gonna take time to get used to Violet tongue again...." He muttered to himself and sat down "What did I miss?"

"Hiccup wants one of us to be on the ship as bait." Explained Astrid and Eret shrugged, taking breakfast "So nothing I wouldn't know about.”

"What happens if one of us can't get out?" Asked Fishlegs.

"We'll make sure one of us is close to the ship."

"You should tie up the person to a rope in case he'll try to eat them on the jump. As dragon trappers we sometimes used live bait." Said Eret and added "Rarely on the sea dragons though."

Hiccup was once again glad that someone had any experience with this. No matter the past or means. "Well that solves that problem, but who's gonna do it?"

"Not me!" Snotlout said immediately

Ruffnut: Not it!

Tuffnut: Not it and I vote for Eret!

Astrid: Same!

Eret choked on the food "What?!"

Astrid folded her arms "First of, it was his idea with the alive bait, second he's used to these actions and third-"

"He's a northman!" Finished Tuffnut.

"But what if he gets hurt?!" Brynja protested.

"We'll tie a rope around his waist like he said." Hiccup said, rubbing the back of his head innocently.

"What?! You can't be serious!" Eret frowned more.

"I know it's dangerous, but I promise we'll make sure you're safe"

"No! I already encountered that thing and it keeps me up all night!" He stood up and walked out.

"Eret wait!" Hiccup said but he was gone, causing him to sigh.

"Well, that went smoothly." Muttered Ruffnut.

"That's the first time I heard him admit that he's scared." Said Snotlout in shock.

"He's really terrified of that dragon..." Hiccup muttered, watching their friend leave.

A bit later

Brynja and the others decided for now to explore the village for a bit, taking in the sights and everything they couldn't yesterday.

Saami were doing most of their work outside under the sun, which included cooking, building, carving and some even playing or practicing fighting with swords.

Back behind the village was a couple of people feeding the reindeers or practicing for the reindeer sleigh race.

Brynja was curious about the wood carving and stopped by a group of Saami carving together around the fire.

When she came there they looked up at her "Wanna learn to carve, dear?”

"I actually know how to carve, may I join?" She asked.

They nodded and gave her a free piece of wood for which she thanked them and began to carve with them.

Snotlout was interested in sword fighting while the others were curious about the reindeers. When he walked up to them they asked him if he wanted to join them. Snotlout took the sword and tried to strike, ending on his back within seconds. Unlike between Vikings, here no one laughed at him as the lads were happy to teach him their ways.

Leaving him there, others aimed their route to the new animals.

The reindeers seemed to be mid domestic and constantly demanding hay and lichen.

Between helping out Saami was Eret, looking a hundred times happier.

"So these are the reindeers you were talking about?" Hiccup asked his friend, hoping he cooled off.

Eret nodded and kept feeding them from the bag, holding out the dried lichen. "This is still a small number so far. The rest will arrive later today. Hopefully."

Some of them tried to sniff if any of them had food.

"Aww they seem friendly." Hiccup said and tried to pet one of them but the reindeer shook his head and trotted away from him.

"Don't feel bad, they come for food, pets rarely. When the ice melts we release them back into nature and they come back at the end of the summer." Explained Eret simply.

"What do you use them for?" Asked Hiccup, watching the animals move around Saami either to demand food or just curious but even to them they acted a little skittish.

"Meat, fur, horns, bones. Nothing goes to waste here. Literally. We even use the organs and blood for our use.” He explained and went to take a lasso to help separate one male who was hurt after spotting him from afar.

“Now you're going to see how I got my strength." He put on the leather gloves and threw the lasso from afar and caught the reindeer by horns who immediately started to bounce and fight.

Eret thankfully had a firm stance so the pulling didn't seem to affect him "Easy, easy!"

"You need help?" Asked Astrid, watching in surprise.

"Hah! Not at all! I've been working with them most of my youth." He began to lead the fighting reindeer into a round little fence where other Saami were ready to quickly open and close the door.

Hiccup watched him, impressed. This explained why he was good with wrangling dragons.

Astrid and Ruffnut were admiring this too. Just a little differently.

Once the reindeer calmed down a bit it was easier "There you go old friend. Had to get it out, didn't ya?" He spoke softly to the animal and made a couple of tongue clicks "There we go. You put up a good fight there."

"That was incredible Eret." Fishlegs said, looking amazed by the display of calculated strength and strategy.

"Who taught you that?" Hiccup asked him curiously.

"It's just our thing. This is what we do. Every Saami learns these skills and respect for these animals ever since we are young. They are our everything, so we treat them with respect." He managed to get the male to a stack of hay and a bucket with water where he could take a better look at the wound while it was distracted by eating.

Once seeing the wound properly he hissed "Oi boy... No wonder you're moody." He muttered and called another Saami over to discuss it.

"He’s gotta teach me to do that someday." Hiccup said as he looked at the wound from behind the fence.

"You really want to know how to handle a wild reindeer?" Asked Astrid skeptically.

"Hey, trying something new every day." Hiccup shrugged.

"Well some muscles on those toothpicks would help you." She teased him.

"Ow right to the heart!" He said pretending that hurt his feelings.

Others giggled until Eret walked to them with concern written all over his face "Let's show you guys something else."

"Is everything ok?" Asked Fishlegs as they noticed the concern.

"Not really. This guy fought off a pack of wolves but that wound.... He's soon gonna feel no more pain." He looked back and saw his people treating the animal kindly and saying some prayers to him.

Hiccup immediately knew what that meant, sighing sadly. "Poor thing..."

"We really can't do anything?" Asked Astrid and Ruffnut teared up "Poor guy...."

"That's how things in the North go here. Instead of letting it suffer we get rid of the pain and in return the animal will not lose its purpose. But I never liked this part of saying goodbye." He began to lead them away so they didn't have to watch.

They all walked away, not wanting to see it either. Sadly life could be unfair to both humans and animals.

Once in the village they went to see how Snotlout's doing. It was difficult for him since all men were taller than him.

Snotlout was still trying his best with the sword fighting, showing off his skills

They tried to show him how to not repeat the same mistake but he insisted on no help.

He did his best, but he kept messing up. "Uhh! Come on, why can't I do this right!”

"You're forcing it too much. Here, may I?" One of them offered to help him

Snotlout groaned and held out the sword but instead the guy stood up behind him "Leading leg slightly forward, crouch down a little, left arm before your chest for protection and just go with the hits, look for open spots. Got it?"

"Got it." He nodded a little nervously and then looked surprised when the guy tried to throw him off balance by pushing him, failing in doing so.

"Good. Keep the stance as you fight." He got ready and went to stand before him.

This time it went a lot better for him and other guys cheered at him for making it a success.

"Now that's more like it!"

Eret smiled seeing the progress, not to mention the display of the difference between learning the Viking way and the Saami way. Vikings forge skills with failures and distress but Saami teaches how to make it more fun and still make progress.

Brynja meanwhile was finishing up her carving of a Goldscale

Soon they found her "There you are"

"Hey, sorry I was carving." She smiled and showed Saami her carving.

Saami looked impressed while Astrid smiled "Is that Topaz? Hey, could you carve me a Stormfly?"

"Oh and maybe Meatlug?" Fishlegs asked her

"Sure thing." She smiled.

"Why don't you join us?" Asked one of the Saami.

"Uh we don't know how to carve wood." Hiccup said.

They offered to teach them.

They decided to try it out, getting tips from Brynja on how to do it.

Astrid was pretty clumsy with this delicate work and didn't do well. Hiccup was also not that great with carving, while Fishlegs was actually pretty ok with it. At the end of the day they each had their first little statue of their dragons. As clumsy or funny as it looked it was still a fun experience.

While the others were having a good time during the every eve bonfire, Hiccup was still trying to figure out how to get the evidence.

Eret walked over "Something on your mind, chief?"

"What do you think?" He said tired.

"Oh, that.... I spoke with the Saami and they said that they'll be going fishing in 2 days so we have till tomorrow night to get the evidence...... So I thought maybe I could try to cooperate........" He muttered the last sentence.

"Really, you'd do that?" He asked, a little surprised.

He shrugged and hugged himself a bit. "I care about these people and I want to make up for my absence here. So I want to help prevent more deaths, even if it would include my own."

He nodded. "Well that won't happen, we'll make sure you're ok."

"Yeah, wish I felt that sure too."

"We'll get everything ready for tomorrow night"

"Why not during the day?"

"Cause it might see us too."

"..... True."

"We'll have to do it during the night then."

"Great. Can't wait......" He was definitely way more scared now. Being a bait during the day had a plus you could see what's happening beneath the water. But here in the North the waters turn so dark that the hand disappears after light sinking. Not to mention the fact there was a giant dragon with his name booked for the dinner menu.

[killeromanoff]

I KNOW YOUR GHOST | ch. 4

summary: Cassie awakens grappling with a hangover and the consequences of her reckless curiosity from the previous night. As truths about Rutshire's tangled relationships and her own doubts resurface, she finds herself questioning the weight of her family name and the expectations tied to it.

pairing: Declan O’Hara x Cassandra 'Cassie' Jones (Female OC)

warnings: Mild language, Themes of Corruption, Power dynamics, Age-Gap (Cassie is 25 yo), Moral conflict, Slow-burn tension, Realism in Media Industry, Self-doubting

w.c: 12k

notes: hey, so sorry for the delay everyone!!! i’ve had final projects for college, exams, working during my break, and dealing with a million things over these holidays!! i’ve been trying for ages to find time to finally finish this chapter! but here it is, i haven’t forgotten cassie!! we’ll definitely see a lot more of her, hopefully!! i hope you haven’t forgotten about her either. enjoy the read!

[prologue], [chapter one], [chapter two], [chapter three], [here]

o4. please tell me who i am

Cassie woke with a start, the soft glow of morning filtering through the gauzy curtains, casting a warm haze over Freddie’s guest room. It wasn’t a graceful awakening—more of a slow, groggy stumble into consciousness, the remnants of restless dreams clinging to her like mist. The soft glow of morning filtered through the gauzy curtains, spilling over the warm, homey décor of Freddie’s guest room. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted in from somewhere, a stark contrast to the turmoil in the young woman’s head. She groaned, shielding her eyes from the invading light, the hangover pressing down on her skull like a vise.

Sinking deeper into the plush bed, Cassie tried to piece together the night before. Snippets of conversations danced in her mind: Freddie’s calm assurances. Lizzie’s knowing smile. And that ridiculous, reckless question about Valerie. A question that had spilled out not from clarity, but from too many drinks and the false courage they provided.

Why had she asked him that?

She sat up slowly, her temples throbbing as she glanced around the room. Freddie’s guest space was comfortable in an unpretentious way, filled with little reminders of the life he’d built—books scattered on shelves, a clock ticking on the wall, and a blanket folded neatly at the foot of the bed. The smell of coffee floated through the air, grounding her further in the present.

Before she could wrestle with her thoughts any longer, there was a soft knock at the door, followed by Lizzie’s voice.

“Morning, sunshine. Or should I say... Hangover Queen?”

The door opened just enough for Lizzie to step inside, balancing a mug of coffee and wearing that signature smirk that always made Cassie feel both supported and entirely called out. Lizzie set the mug down on the side table and perched on the chair beside the bed.

Cassie sighed, rubbing her temples. “Go ahead, get it over with.”

“What? The teasing?” Lizzie arched her brow, clearly amused. “I don’t need to. Your face says it all.”

“Great,” Cassie muttered, reaching for the coffee.

“Do you remember much from last night?” Lizzie asked, her tone more curious than judgmental.

“Enough. And... Not enough.” She sipped the coffee, savoring the way it cut through the fog in her head. “I remember asking Freddie something really stupid.”

“Define stupid.” Lizzie tilted her head, a crease formed between her brows as her lips pressed into a contemplative line. She leaned back in the chair slowly, her fingers drumming on the armrest, a subtle rhythm that hinted at thoughts she wasn’t quite ready to voice.

Cassie hesitated, her fingers clenching around the warm mug as the memory resurfaced with painful clarity. It was both embarrassing and shameful to remember having bluntly said such a stupid thing to him.

“Something you also wouldn’t have enjoyed,” she replied quietly.

The question she’d asked Freddie hadn’t come out of nowhere, though it had spilled from her lips without the restraint she might have exercised sober. Despite being a stupid thing to say, it was the truth.

It had been brewing for some time, rooted in the way she’d seen them—Freddie and Valerie—trapped in a marriage that seemed more like a formality than a partnership.

As all the marriages in Rutshire.

She thought of Valerie, a woman who was polished to perfection yet distant, her interactions with Freddie clinical at best. Cassie couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen them exchange a genuine smile, let alone anything that felt remotely like affection. Their life together, as far as Cassie could tell, was lived parallel but apart.

And then there was Lizzie.

Cassie had observed the way her uncle’s guarded expression softened around her, how his wit softened when Lizzie was in the room, like some dormant part of him came alive in her presence. The same seemed true for Lizzie, whose laughter with Freddie felt freer, lighter, than with anyone else—including her husband, James.

The young woman had never understood what Lizzie saw in that pompous man, whose charm was as superficial as his dedication to their marriage.

That damn stupid question had been sitting in the back of her mind ever since she moved to Rutshire, gathering weight until it finally spilled out of her, uninhibited by sobriety or tact.

“I asked him why he doesn’t leave Valerie and marry you.” The words escaped from her before Cassie could stop herself, her voice wavering between the same two feelings: embarrassment and shame.

She had seen the way Freddie and Lizzie were together, the way they shared something beyond the surface—a connection that felt more real than anything Cassie had witnessed in the strained relationship between her uncle and Valerie.

It was impossible that they hadn’t thought about it, right?

Lizzie’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but her reaction wasn’t one of shock—it was more like someone hearing a truth spoken aloud that they’d long since made peace with. She leaned back in her chair, her posture relaxing as a small, knowing smile played on her lips. It was the kind of smile Cassie had seen before, the one that softened her guard just enough for the words to slip through, unfiltered.

“Why doesn’t he leave Valerie and marry me?” Lizzie repeated, her voice light but with an edge Cassie couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t the sarcasm that stung; it was what hid beneath it. “You really don’t pull your punches, do you?”

Cassie flushed, her grip tightening around the mug. The heat of the coffee didn’t warm her, but the discomfort in her chest only grew. She looked away, her mind spinning in a blur of thoughts she didn’t know how to voice.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she mumbled, her voice faltering. “It’s just... I see how he is with you. How you are with him. And with Valerie, it’s not like that. It’s—”

“Different,” Lizzie finished for her, her tone softer now but no less firm. Her gaze shifted, her expression unreadable as she crossed her legs. “Trust me, Cassie, I see it too. But it’s not that simple.”

The room seemed to grow quieter, the air dense with unspoken truths. Lizzie leaned back in her chair, a wry smile ghosting across her lips. It was the kind of expression Cassie had come to associate with her—a carefully constructed shield, sharp enough to deflect but never too revealing. Her gaze settled on Cassie, unreadable yet somehow piercing.

“Doesn’t it feel like a waste?” Cassie murmured, the words spilling out before she could stop herself. She stared into her mug, as if the swirling remnants of her tea might hold the answer. “He deserves better than this... This cold, perfect life with Valerie. And you deserve better than James.”

Lizzie tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“You don’t think I know that?” she asked, her tone cool but not unkind. Her words cut through the silence with precision, like a scalpel peeling back layers of pretense. “Freddie deserves better, yes. But what does that mean? Better for him, or better for me? It’s not that simple, darling. It never is.”

Cassie glanced up, startled by the edge in Lizzie’s voice. It wasn’t anger—not entirely. It was resignation, tempered by the quiet ache of unspoken longing and the exhaustion of navigating expectations that never seemed to change. Years of compromise, of managing the roles they were expected to play, had left their marks.

“You’re saying you’re okay with this?” Cassie’s voice cracked slightly, her frustration bleeding through. “Just... Letting it all stay the same?”

Lizzie’s laugh was soft but bitter, laced with a kind of knowing Cassie hadn’t yet earned.

“Okay with it?” she repeated, shaking her head, “Hardly. But life isn’t a neatly wrapped package, Cassie. It’s messy. People like Valerie don’t just disappear because we want them to. And Freddie, for all his charm and wit, is stuck in a role he doesn’t know how to break out of. And no bold declaration will change that, believe me, I know.”

Cassie flinched, the weight of Lizzie’s words sinking in.

“It feels like you’re both... Waiting for some big moment where everything will fix itself,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper.

Lizzie’s expression softened for the first time, the sharp lines around her mouth easing into something more vulnerable. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, the motion unguarded but deliberate.

“Maybe he is,” Lizzie admitted, her voice carrying a note of resigned acceptance, “And I don’t blame him. Sometimes waiting is all you can do. You wait, and you hope that when the moment comes, you’re ready for it.”

Cassie fell silent, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her mug. She wanted to argue, to say waiting wasn’t enough, that action was needed. But Lizzie’s calm, her quiet conviction, held her words at bay. It felt like stepping into a current she didn’t quite know how to navigate.

Lizzie shifted then, her gaze drifting toward the window. The morning light filtered through the glass, casting soft patterns on the wall. For a moment, it seemed as though she was looking for something far away—an answer, perhaps, or the courage to voice what she was about to say.

“I’m not waiting for everything to fall into place, though,” she said, her voice steady, “I sent James the divorce papers this morning. Told him the house is mine, and he’ll need to find somewhere else.”

Cassie’s head snapped up, her eyes wide, disbelief etched across her face.

What?

“You did what?” she asked, her tone laced with incredulity.

Lizzie met Cassie’s wide-eyed disbelief with a steady look, her voice calm and unflinching.

“I sent him the papers, yes,” she repeated, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned back in her chair. The motion was smooth, practiced, but Cassie didn’t miss the flicker of vulnerability that passed through Lizzie’s eyes before she masked it again, “James and I have been living this charade long enough. It’s exhausting, Cassie. Pretending, performing... Existing in parallel lives that don’t touch. Sound familiar?”

Cassie’s fingers tightened around her mug, but she didn’t answer. Lizzie wasn’t really asking.

Of course it sounded familiar, it was some kind of pattern in Rutshire. Many marriages there were about pretending, her father and mother were a proper example. There was a reason why her mother had gone to Chicago when her father was still alive.

“You asked why Freddie doesn’t leave Valerie,” Lizzie continued, “Why did I stayed with James as long as I did? And the truth is... Sometimes it’s easier to keep the structure standing than to deal with the mess of tearing it all down. Especially when the world is watching, waiting for you to falter.”

“So what changed?” Cassie asked quietly.

Lizzie tilted her head, her lips curving into a small, bittersweet smile.

“I realized I couldn’t keep waiting for someone else to make the first move. I told James it was over because it needed to be done—for me. But with Freddie...” She trailed off, her gaze slipping toward the window again, the morning light reflecting faintly in her eyes. “That’s his decision to make. Not mine.”

Cassie hesitated, her voice a little smaller as she asked, “But doesn’t it hurt? Knowing you’ve made your choice and he hasn’t?”

“Of course it hurts,” Lizzie’s laugh was short and humorless, her gaze snapping back to Cassie, “But life isn’t fair, darling, and love doesn’t come with guarantees. Freddie and I have something, yes. But it’s not something I can force into existence beyond what it already is. And I’m not willing to sit around, waiting for scraps.”

Cassie blinked, feeling her own defenses unravel slightly under Lizzie’s candidness.

“I just thought... Maybe it could be different,” Cassie confessed, her voice soft with vulnerability, as if finally giving air to a wish she hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. It sounded silly in her head, but saying it aloud felt like acknowledging a truth she had been holding back.

Lizzie didn’t hesitate, her gaze steady and not unkind.

“So did I,” she said quietly, the bluntness of her words disarming Cassie, “But different doesn’t happen by wishing. It happens by doing the hard thing. And sometimes, even then, it doesn’t change anything.”

Her voice was tinged with something close to regret, but there was no trace of self-pity in her tone—just the reality of a decision made, and a life that was still being navigated.

Cassie sat back as Lizzie’s words sank in, settling around her like the still air of the room. She thought about her father, about the split between him and her mother.

The way their marriage had deteriorated long before he died. How her mother had packed up and left for Chicago when Cassie was still too young to understand the intricacies of their broken home… Leaving her with her father, as if the distance itself could untangle the mess that had been left behind.

She’d been too young to remember much of it, but she remembered the emptiness that filled the spaces when they were apart. She never fully grasped what had gone wrong between them. And all of it became worse when he died and she had to be her mother’s responsibility again.

In some ways, she thought, this was all too familiar.

The way Lizzie and Freddie circled around each other, staying just out of reach. It wasn’t that they didn’t care—it was that the world they lived in made it impossible for either of them to take the leap. They stayed in their own self-made prisons, not daring to shatter the fragile construct they’d both built.

Her mother tried to get a new life without her and her father and, in the end, it didn’t work exactly as she had planned.

“I used to think... Maybe, if you loved someone enough, you could make it work,” Cassie continued, more to herself than to Lizzie, “But it’s like you said, isn’t it? It is not that simple. We can’t make people change. Not really.”

“No, you can’t make someone change,” Lizzie leaned forward, her eyes flicking to Cassie with an unspoken understanding, “But you can choose whether or not you’re going to keep waiting for them to do it. And sometimes, you’ve got to let go of the idea that you can make things right, and just accept that they’re not right.”

The words lingered in the air, settling over Cassie like a heavy fog, obscuring any easy answers she might have clung to.

“But you don’t just... Give up on the person you love,” Cassie whispered, her thoughts swirling, lost in the complexity of what she was saying, “How do you walk away from someone who means so much, even when you know it won’t work?”

“You don’t walk away from love, Cass,” Lizzie looked at her for a long moment, as if searching for something in Cassie’s face, “You walk away from the idea of what it could be. Because sometimes, the love itself isn’t enough, no matter how much you want it to be.”

Cassie felt something settle in her chest. She wasn’t sure if it was the conversation, the heavy truths Lizzie was speaking, or just the exhausting burden of everything she hadn’t yet figured out.

The silence stretched between them, and in the quiet, Lizzie added, “You’ll get it, eventually. You’ll understand what I mean.”

After a brief period of silent reflection, Cassie exhaled deeply, her hands still wrapped around the warm mug as if it were the only tangible object in the room.

“I shouldn’t have spoken up,” she murmured, “It’s not my place.”

Lizzie regarded her with a softened expression, yet her words remained pointed.

“You’re asking questions, Cass. That’s a good start,” Lizzie reassured Cassie, a smile adorned her face. “It means you’re searching for answers, and maybe that’s enough to ensure you won’t have to face the same struggles your uncle and I are tangled up in.”

Cassie traced the rim of her empty mug, her thoughts tangling and untangling like a knot she wasn’t quite ready to cut. Lizzie’s words echoed in her mind—a thread she couldn’t quite grasp yet couldn’t ignore. They settled into the corners of her mind, quiet but insistent, nudging her toward truths she didn’t want to name.

Love was complicated, wasn’t it? A web that stretched across her life, inescapable and sticky with memories she tried not to disturb. Thinking about it meant pulling at threads she’d long since left knotted—threads tied to her mother and father's sad story, to the spaces they had left unspoken between them.

The house seemed to mirror her unease. The silence pressed closer, thick and watchful, broken only by the hum of Freddie’s voice from downstairs. It rose and fell in careful rhythms, too muffled to understand, but carrying a tension she could feel. It prickled against her skin, subtle but sharp, like a draft that found its way through cracks you didn’t know existed.

Cassie’s gaze flicked toward the window, the soft gray light filtering through like a promise she couldn’t decide whether to trust. A part of her wanted to get up, to move, to shake off the weight that was settling around her shoulders. But she stayed where she was, her hands resting lightly against the worn ceramic of the mug, tethered by thoughts she couldn’t yet untangle.

“Freddie’s probably pacing again,” Lizzie quipped, a hint of a smile playing at her lips, “He does that when Rupert’s around. It’s like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Cassie raised an eyebrow, “Is Rupert here?”

“Oh, yes,” Lizzie replied, her smile turning wry, “They’re discussing Venturer’s business. But Rupert has a way of making everyone feel like they’re a step behind. It’s his gift. You met him last night—you probably noticed.”

Cassie thought back to the previous evening. Rupert’s grin, so polished and charming, had carried an undercurrent of something sharper, something designed to disarm.

“He’s…” She paused, searching for the right word to capture the strangeness of him, the way he had exchanged those discreet glances with Taggie O’Hara, “Something..”

Too cautious. She’d already said more than she should, and she didn’t intend to repeat that mistake.

Lizzie chuckled softly, setting her mug on the table. “That’s one way to put it.”

The sound of footsteps on the stairs pulled both their attention. Freddie appeared in the doorway, his presence filling the room effortlessly. His eyes swept across the two women, lingering briefly on Lizzie before settling on Cassie.

For a moment, there was something in his expression—surprise, perhaps?—but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

“Not at all,” Lizzie said smoothly, her tone light, “We were just chatting. Sisterly bonding, you might say.”

“Sisterly, huh?” Freddie’s brow arched, his lips curving, “Should I be worried?”

“Always,” Cassie quipped, her laugh masking her unease.

She was praying for Freddie to think she didn’t remember what she had told him last night, because one thing was to discuss it with Lizzie… Another thing was to have a sober conversation about it with her uncle. She would rather bury her rather in horse’s shit.

Freddie’s attention shifted fully to Cassie, his arms crossing loosely over his chest.

“How’s your head? Feeling sober enough to talk about Venturer?”

No questions about last night or weird looks… Good, perhaps she was safe.

“I think so,” Cassie answered, though her voice wavered a bit.

“Good,” Freddie replied with a nod, his tone shifting into something steadier, almost businesslike, “Rupert and I just got a call downstairs—Cameron wants a meeting. Now.”

Cassie blinked, momentarily thrown off balance.

“A meeting?” she echoed, setting her mug down a bit harder than she intended, “About what?”

“About you,” Freddie hesitated, his eyes flickering briefly to Lizzie before landing back on Cassie, “About the possibility of hiring you.”

Cassie’s stomach twisted, her thoughts racing. She wasn’t even sure she wanted this—though admittedly, she wanted it more today than she had yesterday. But the idea of Cameron, a woman she hadn’t even met yet, already calling a meeting about her? It sent an uneasy ripple through her chest.

Lizzie noticed the discomfort in Cassie’s expression and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “Cameron can be intense, but she’s practical. If she wants to talk about you, it means she sees potential.”

“Or it means she’s already decided I’m a liability,” Cassie shot back, her tone edged with bitter humor. She crossed her arms tightly, her fingers digging into the fabric of her sweater. “I’m not even sure about this, and yet here I am.”

Her mind spun. She hadn’t even made up her own mind about joining Venturer. Sure, the idea was clearer now than it had been yesterday, but the thought of someone like Cameron—someone who didn’t even know her—sitting in a room analyzing her every move made her chest tighten.

I’m not even sure about it, she thought bitterly, even though I want it more today than I did yesterday. And Cameron, the woman I haven’t even met yet, already wants to pick me apart.

She exhaled sharply, forcing the air out of her lungs as she tried to settle her racing thoughts.

“So, what? You will all sit around a table and vote on whether or not I’m worth the gamble?”

Freddie crouched slightly, leveling his gaze with hers.

“No one’s voting on you, Cassie,” he took the empty mug off her hands, leaving it on the corner table next to them, “This isn’t about proving yourself. It’s about... Navigating the optics. Rupert and I are heading to Venturer now to figure out how this fits.”

“Optics.” The word felt sour on her tongue. “So this isn’t about whether I’m good enough. It’s about whether I look good enough.”

“Cassie,” Freddie started, but she cut him off with a shake of her head.

“Don’t sugarcoat it, Freddie. I know exactly what this is.” She gestured vaguely, as if the answer was obvious, “This isn’t about my work. It’s about my name.”

Freddie sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew the truth better than her.

“Yes, the name is part of it.” He admitted. “But you’re more than just Matthew Jones’ daughter, or my niece, and you know that.”

Cassie wasn’t sure she believed him. She felt Lizzie’s gaze on her, trying to comfort her without saying the words out loud.

Her thoughts went back to Declan’s words the night before, to the way he had framed her story on his show with such precision. That moment had given her clarity she hadn’t expected, but clarity didn’t erase the fear that had crept in since then. It didn’t erase the feeling that she was walking into a trap.

Despite wanting to participate and be a part of the team, she didn’t know if she was ready for the first newspaper starring her as the daughter of Matthew Jones.

She could already see the headlines.

“They didn’t even invite me,” Cassie muttered, shaking her head once again, “You’ll be talking about me, deciding my future, and I won’t even be in the room.”

“That’s because this meeting isn’t about deciding anything final.” Freddie stood up, his posture still tense. “It’s about laying the groundwork, making sure everyone’s on the same page. Cameron is... Thorough, to say the least.”

From what little Cassie had heard about Cameron, “thorough” sounded like a gross understatement. She imagined someone cold, clinical—the exact kind of person who would see her as nothing more than a risk to be mitigated. A liability.

And, sincerely, she thought Cameron would be right to think so.

The possibility of joining Venturer felt both intoxicating and suffocating. It was the kind of chance that could elevate her career, but it could just as easily crush her under the weight of expectations she wasn’t sure she could meet.

Cassie rubbed her temple, the beginnings of a headache threatening to resurface. The weight of the conversation, the lingering doubts, and the prospect of a meeting where she’d be dissected like a business proposal—all of it was too much. She glanced at Freddie, who was watching her closely, his concern barely hidden behind his usual calm.

“Can you take me home on your way there?” Cassie asked softly, her voice almost apologetic, “I just... I need some space to think.”

Freddie paused, studying her for a moment before nodding.

“Of course. Let me grab my coat.” His brows furrowed slightly as he turned to Lizzie. “I’ll take you to your place too, Lizzie.”

Lizzie’s eyes widened, momentarily caught off guard.

“Oh,” she stammered before recovering with a small smile, “Thank you, Freddie. I appreciate it.”

As Freddie left the room, Cassie exhaled, relieved. She glanced at Lizzie, who gave her an encouraging look, though there was a faint crease of worry in her expression. The room felt smaller now, the walls pressing in as her thoughts churned.

She wasn’t angry, not at Freddie, not at Rupert or Cameron, not even at Declan—though his name lingered in her mind longer than she liked. She was just tired. Tired of the questions, the scrutiny, the way her father’s shadow seemed to follow her into every room.

I’m not even there yet, she thought bitterly, and they’re already treating me like a liability—or worse, an asset.

Lizzie reached out, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, you know. You don’t have to have all the answers right now.”

Cassie gave her a small, tired smile, “I know.”

Freddie reappeared, coat in hand, his movements brisk but unhurried. He paused at the doorway, glancing back at Cassie.

“Ready when you are.”

She nodded, standing and gathering her things with deliberate slowness. Lizzie stood too, giving her an encouraging pat on the shoulder as she passed.

As they descended the stairs, the house seemed quieter than before, the faint hum of conversation from the kitchen reduced to murmurs as if respecting her mood. The faint aroma of Lizzie’s tea lingered in the air, blending with the sharper tang of Freddie’s cologne as he walked ahead. Cassie trailed behind, her steps slower, as though gravity had grown heavier.

“Where’s Rupert?” Cassie asked as they reached the foyer, her eyes scanning the space where he had been earlier.

Freddie glanced briefly out the window.

“Left a few minutes ago,” he said with a shrug, “Probably halfway to Venturer by now. Cameron won’t like to be kept waiting.”

Lizzie raised a brow, “He’s probably doing his best to charm her before the meeting starts. He’s good at that.”

Cassie huffed a small laugh, though her thoughts churned uneasily. Outside, the crisp morning air hit her skin like a bracing splash of water, the sun casting sharp shadows across the driveway. Freddie unlocked the car with a soft beep, his movements deliberate as he held the door open for her.

She hesitated for a moment, catching his eye.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice carrying more weight than she intended.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said simply. “You’ve got enough on your plate without worrying about me.”

Lizzie slipped into the backseat, giving Cassie an encouraging smile before leaning back into the seat. The car rumbled to life, the hum of the engine filling the air. Cassie leaned her head against the window, watching as the city blurred into streaks of gray and muted color.

The silence inside the car was heavy but not uncomfortable. Lizzie broke it with a soft murmur.

“You’ll figure it out, Cassie. You always do.”

Cassie didn’t respond immediately. Her thoughts were a storm of doubt and determination, fear and clarity. Freddie’s steady presence at the wheel and Lizzie’s quiet support behind her felt like the only anchors keeping her from being swept away.

The newsroom carried the distinct sound of controlled chaos. Producers darted between desks clutching papers, interns scrambled to keep coffee from spilling, and camera operators reviewed their setups for the next broadcast. It was a well-oiled machine built on deadlines and adrenaline, but there was always an undercurrent of tension—especially on mornings like this.

Declan strode through the room with a practiced authority, his mind half-focused on the day’s agenda and half on the conversation looming ahead. The faces around him—Seb gesturing animatedly near the teleprompter, Charles arguing over a graphic error—were familiar yet blurred as his thoughts sharpened. His gaze flicked toward the glass-walled conference room, where the meeting he’d been dreading was about to begin.

Inside, Cameron perched on the edge of the table, her posture as rigid as the sharp lines of her blazer. She exuded the kind of tension that made even the most confident producers tread lightly. She wasn’t just Venturer’s co-executive producer; she was its gatekeeper, guarding the platform’s integrity with an intensity that was both admirable and exhausting.

Despite admiring her unwavering commitment to the show, Declan couldn’t shake the sting of their argument the night before, just after his broadcast. Cameron had cornered him, her tone low but brimming with frustration, over his decision to use Cassie’s evidence against Mr. Willow without giving her a heads-up. He could still hear her words echoing:

“You’re not just playing with stories here; you’re playing with credibility.”

Declan knew she wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t stop the bitterness from creeping in. This meeting, he suspected, was the fallout.

Rupert, as always, was the foil to her precision. Lounging in his chair, one arm draped over the backrest, he looked as though he’d wandered into the wrong room by mistake. But Declan knew better.

Behind Rupert’s air of nonchalance was a sharp mind that thrived on finding the cracks in any argument—Cameron’s, Declan’s, or anyone else’s.

Declan wouldn’t lie to himself: it was one of the many reasons he admired Rupert. But admiration came with its price. In moments like these, Rupert’s sharpness reminded Declan of his own insecurities—the kind that had lingered since they’d first worked together.

Rupert Campbell-Black  was the type who could slice through a room’s tension with a single, well-placed quip, while Declan sometimes felt he was still proving himself.

Last night at the Spencer’s Gala had only sharpened Declan’s simmering insecurities.

The revelation of Rupert giving Taggie a ride had cracked open a door to fears he thought he’d long since locked away. He’d spent so much time trying to rebuild their bond—years of missteps followed by countless apologies and promises to do better. But seeing her turn to Rupert instead of him for something as simple as a ride wasn’t just a slight; it was a glaring reminder of how far he still had to go.

It wasn’t just the choice of transportation that stung; it was everything Rupert represented. The man exuded charm, the kind that made people gravitate toward him, made them feel seen. It was the same quality that had driven Declan to admire him professionally—Rupert had an uncanny ability to command a room. But when that same ease slipped into Declan’s personal life, filling spaces where Declan felt he’d fallen short, it was unbearable.

He replayed the moment in his mind. Rupert and Taggie at the gala, her laughing at something he’d said, the two of them effortlessly at ease in a way that felt foreign to Declan. He knew he had no right to begrudge her moments of levity—God knew she’d earned them—but still, it gnawed at him. The what-ifs buzzed like static at the edge of his thoughts. What if she turned to Rupert because she saw something in him that Declan lacked? What if Rupert understood her in ways Declan never could?

Shaking himself out of the spiral, Declan let his focus narrow on the present. The Venturer newsroom had its own kind of chaos, a rhythm he understood better than most. As his gaze landed on the glass-walled conference room, his thoughts shifted from family to the professional minefield ahead.

Inside, Freddie stood by the window, his back to the room, his shoulders squared in a way that gave no indication of where he stood on the issue at hand. Declan had worked with Freddie long enough to know the signs. The deliberate stillness, the subtle tilt of his head—Freddie was preparing himself. He had a knack for waiting until just the right moment to speak, his words cutting through noise like a knife.

As Declan stepped into the room and closed the glass door behind him, the atmosphere shifted.

Cameron didn’t wait.

"Finally," Cameron began, her voice clipped. "Let’s address the elephant in the newsroom."

Her eyes swept across the room, landing briefly on Declan before settling on Freddie. The unspoken accusation simmered in her tone, a jab at the brewing controversy over Cassie.

“By elephant,” Rupert interjected, lounging in his chair, “you mean the niece of a broadcasting legend and the star of an exposé that made national headlines? Quite the pachyderm.”

Cameron shot him a withering glare, “We’re not here to trade quips, Rupert. This is about perception, and I don’t need to spell out the risks of nepotism.”

“We’re not hiring Cassie because of her last name.” Declan, standing near the edge of the table, folded his arms, “Her work speaks for itself—her investigation into Crawford alone proves that.”

“And that’s exactly the problem,” Cameron retorted. She tapped her pen against the table, her movements sharp. “She’s already a lightning rod. Tying Venturer’s reputation to hers puts us in a precarious position.”

Freddie shook his head, tutting.

“It’s not just about risk; it’s about the opportunity,” He leaned forward, a torn smile on his face, “Cassie has the skills, the instincts, and the grit to bring something new to Venturer. We’re talking about talent, not handouts.”

Cameron’s gaze softened, though her tone remained pointed.

“Freddie, I get it. You want to support your family. But this isn’t just about her qualifications—it’s about the optics. How do we justify bringing her on without it looking like favoritism?”

Rupert, always quick to diffuse tension, raised his cup in mock agreement.

“True, optics matter. But let’s not overlook the bigger picture. Cassie’s presence—her credibility—could elevate Venturer in ways we can’t predict yet.” he added with a sly grin, “Besides, Declan was the one who introduced the idea after Freddie mentioned it months ago, right? If he is so keen on her, I’m inclined to trust his judgment.”

Cameron scoffed, leaning back in her chair with a sharp shake of her head.

“So we’re supposed to ignore the optics?” She asked, her eyes narrowing over Rupert’s figure, “Freddie’s niece, Matthew Jones’ daughter, the face of a major scandal—what part of that screams credibility to you?”

Rupert’s grin faltered, his posture stiffening as he leaned forward. Declan, standing at the head of the table, remained silent for a moment, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. Freddie’s gaze flicked between the two of them, his calm exterior masking the churn of unease beneath.

No one seemed to have any cards left to play—at least, that’s how it looked to Rupert and Freddie.

But Declan? Declan had something.

“What screams credibility is the fact that she did the right thing,” He stepped closer to the table, leaning forward just enough to command their attention, “While others were sitting on their hands, she was exposing the truth. If we’re afraid of the optics, then we’re no better than Crawford’s FM.”

The room fell into silence, the only sound the groan of activity from the newsroom beyond the glass walls. Cameron’s fingers tightened around her pen, her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t immediately reply. Rupert tilted his head, his gaze shifting between Declan and Cameron, a glimmer of intrigue in his eyes.

Freddie was about to speak when a sharp knock at the door drew everyone’s attention. A producer stepped in, her expression tense, clutching a tablet.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, her voice brisk, “but there’s breaking news. A whistleblower just leaked internal documents on water contamination near that factory in Suffolk. It’s spreading across major networks.”

Cameron frowned sharply, “Suffolk? That’s the same case that’s been bubbling up for weeks now.”

But it was Freddie’s reaction that turned heads. His posture went rigid, and his face paled ever so slightly. The pieces clicked together in his mind faster than he cared to admit.

Suffolk… Water contamination… Cassie.

His thoughts flashed to the morning he got her out of prison, the morning he got her out of prison, the same day they got to her all her missing calls… Didn’t one of them have something to do with water issues near a factory?

Her name was Sarah, right? After that morning, Cassie had spent hours on the phone with him telling him what she had in hand with those contacts, even telling him more about this one specially.

Sarah Halverson… That was her full name.

A local from Suffolk who had provided crucial leads in her investigation.

“Bloody hell,” Freddie muttered under his breath, drawing every gaze in the room. He turned back to the producer, “Thanks for the update.”

As the producer exited, Declan raised a brow at Freddie’s sudden shift in demeanor, “Care to enlighten us?”

“Cassie’s investigating this.” Freddie’s lips thinned. “She already has a witness and a pile of evidence.”

Cameron froze, her pen hovering mid-air, “Are you telling me that your niece was already investigating this whistleblower?”

“It’s not a ‘might.’” Freddie leaned on the back of an empty chair, his tone steady but charged with conviction, “I don’t know the details of this leak, but Sarah Halversoni is one of Cassie’s primary contacts. She is a local who lives near the factory, Cassie has been talking with her for weeks now.”

Rupert whistled low, shaking his head, “Well, that changes things, doesn’t it?”

Cameron’s skepticism was immediate.

“And you didn’t think to mention this before now, Freddie?”

“Well, it wasn’t in my bingo that a whistleblower would come forward the same morning we're debating whether Cassie is worth it,” Freddie massaged his mustache, his frustration showing in his measured tone, “But here we are.”

Declan, processing the revelation, spoke carefully.

“If this leak confirms Cassie’s investigation…” He paused, letting the news sink in completely, “Then we have more than just a story—we have a reason to bring her in. She knows the case. She knows the players. And she knows how to follow the threads.”

“And we have a media storm brewing,” Cameron countered, “A storm that could sink her—or worse, us.”

Rupert steepled his fingers, his grin replaced with an expression of thoughtful calculation.

“Or it could propel us forward. This is the kind of opportunity that defines networks, Cameron. If we act decisively, we control the narrative.”

“And we have to act.” Declan nodded. “If we hesitate, someone else will break the follow-up first. We’ll lose the momentum.”

Cameron sighed heavily, clearly wrestling with the decision, “So what’s the plan? We hire her on the spot?”

“On a trial basis,” Freddie suggested, “She already has a foot in the door with this story. Let’s see what she can do with the rest.”

Rupert leaned back in his chair, cracking a small smile, “Now we’re talking.”

Cameron still didn’t look convinced, but she relented with a curt nod.

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes, but there was a deviant smile tugging in her lips. She could lie all she wanted, but she enjoyed debating with the three idiots. “But if this backfires, don’t expect me to clean up the mess.”

However, she wouldn’t let her friendship with the men interfere with her career.

“It won’t backfire,” Declan said, meeting her gaze directly.

The late afternoon sun lingered low, its warm, amber light draping the countryside in golden hues. Cassie adjusted her posture on Jester, the familiar sway of the gelding's steady pace grounding her in the moment. The rhythmic clop of hooves against the packed dirt trail seemed to echo her own heartbeat.

She stole a glance at Bas, who rode ahead, his dun horse, Rocky, moving with an easy confidence that matched his rider's. The contrast between his usual carefree demeanor and the quiet intensity of her own thoughts couldn’t have been starker.

Freddie’s voice echoed in her mind, the conversation from earlier replaying itself in snippets. He’d given her the gist of the meeting once it ended: Cameron had finally relented after considerable debate, agreeing to a trial run contingent on the developing Suffolk water contamination story. Cassie’s contact—Sarah Halverson—had leads that now aligned with a whistleblower’s explosive revelations.

Venturer wanted her on board not just for her name, but for the narrative she’d started to unravel.

She only had to go visit them and say yes.

But that wasn’t what kept Cassie up the entire afternoon. It was the outcomes—the way her father’s legacy loomed over everything she touched. She couldn’t help but wonder if this opportunity would bring her closer to stepping out of that shadow—or cement her place within it.

Jester’s ears flicked back as if sensing her unease, and she reached down to pat his neck absently.

“Easy, boy,” she murmured, though she wasn’t sure if she was reassuring him or herself.

Cassie shifted her weight in the saddle, the familiar sway of Jester’s gait grounding her. The tall chestnut gelding moved with an energy that mirrored her own—restless, but controlled. The crisp evening air filled her lungs, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine as she and Bas rode side by side along the winding trail.

Around them, the countryside stretched out in soft greens and browns, the rolling fields edged with clusters of oak and hawthorn.

Ahead, Bas leaned forward on Rocky, his dun horse’s ears flicking back toward him as if listening to the idle hum of his rider’s voice. His posture was as casual as ever, but Cassie didn’t miss the glint in his eye when he turned to glance at her.

“You know,” Bas began, breaking the silence, “Jester’s looking particularly spirited today. Probably because he knows his rider’s overthinking.”

Cassie smirked, patting Jester’s neck, “Overthinking is a survival skill in my family.”

“Ah, but darling, there’s a difference between surviving and living,” Bas shot back, his grin sharp and playful. He urged Rocky into a smooth trot, the dun horse responding effortlessly. “Speaking of which, how’s the decision-making process coming along?”

Cassie rolled her eyes, guiding Jester to match Rocky’s pace, “I wasn’t aware there was a deadline.”

“Oh, there’s always a deadline,” Bas teased, his voice carrying easily over the sound of hooves. “Especially when Cameron’s involved. Or Declan, the man’s been in a mood, you know. Something about an opportunity slipping through his fingers.”

Her grip on the reins tightened instinctively, though she kept her expression neutral, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Bas drawled, his tone turning deliberately conspiratorial, “that Declan’s not exactly the patient type. He sees something—or someone—with potential, and he doesn’t like to waste time. You’ve been the topic of quite a few conversations lately.”

Cassie raised an eyebrow, her voice dry, “Am I supposed to feel flattered?”

“Flattered? Absolutely,” Bas said, his grin widening. “But also aware. Declan doesn’t push for just anyone. He’s not exactly the sentimental type.”

Jester snorted beneath her, and Cassie leaned forward to steady him, her thoughts turning inward. The idea of being a pawn in someone else’s game—no matter how well-meaning—made her stomach twist. She’d spent too long trying to carve out her own space, free of the shadows cast by her father’s legacy.

The trail curved gently, opening into a sun-dappled clearing. Bas slowed Rocky to a walk, letting the horses stretch their necks. He turned to her, his expression softening just slightly.

“Look,” he said, his tone losing some of its usual bravado, “I know you’re not the type to jump at something just because it’s offered. But this—Venturer, everyone’s backing—it’s not just another job. It’s a platform. A bloody big one. And if anyone can make something out of it, it’s you.”

Cassie didn’t respond immediately, her gaze fixed on the horizon. The sunlight filtered through the trees, catching the warm tones of Jester’s coat. She exhaled slowly, her breath visible in the cool air.

“I already have my answer, that isn’t why I am overthinking” she said finally, her voice quiet. “Because, it’s not just about me, though, is it? It’s about what people expect. What they assume. My name, my family—it’s a package deal whether I want it to be or not.”

Bas tilted his head, studying her with an almost brotherly fondness, “And you think that’s a bad thing?”

“I think it’s a complicated thing,” she admitted.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, amber glow over the rolling Rutshire countryside. Cassie and Bas rode side by side, the rhythmic clopping of Jester and Rocky's hooves the only sound breaking the tranquil evening. The scent of damp earth and blooming hawthorn filled the air, a reminder of the world beyond their immediate concerns.

Bas, ever the embodiment of charm and mischief, glanced at Cassie, his dark eyes gleaming with sincerity.

"You know, Cass," he began, his voice smooth yet tinged with earnestness, "Venturer isn’t just looking for a pretty face or a famous name. We want someone with real vision, someone who can shake things up."

“And let me guess,” Cassie met his gaze, her expression a blend of curiosity and caution, “You, Rupert, Declan, my uncle... Everyone there had agreed in today’s meeting that’s me?”

Bas shrugged with an exaggerated air of nonchalance, yet the twinkle in his eye betrayed his enjoyment of her reaction.

“Something like that,” he said, smirking, “But really, it’s not about them deciding anything. It’s about you.”

Cassie exhaled, pulling Jester into a slow trot as the clearing narrowed again into a wooded trail. The light shifted, the shadows of the trees dappled against the horses’ sides.

“It’s not as simple as you make it sound,” she muttered.

Bas clicked his tongue, urging Rocky closer.

“Nothing’s ever simple to you, Cass,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “You can’t let that stop you. Venturer is a platform. And you... You’re a storyteller. This could be the way you tell them—on your terms for once.”

She shot him a look, unsure whether to be flattered or annoyed by his knack for cutting through her layers of doubt.

“You make it sound like I’ve already said yes,” she pointed out.

Bas tilted his head, his smirk returning.

“Haven’t you?”

Cassie didn’t respond, her grip tightening on the reins. He knew damn well that she had, indeed.

“Besides,” Bas continued, his tone lightening again, “it’s not like Freddie would let you say no… Or Declan. Hell, that man’s persistence is borderline pathological. You’d better prepare yourself for relentless charm and dramatic monologues about justice and accountability.”

That earned a small laugh from her, though she quickly stifled it, shaking her head.

“You’re insufferable,” she said.

“And you’re predictable,” he shot back, flashing her a grin.

The sound of hooves crunching against the gravel filled the silence between them, a rhythmic backdrop to the thoughts tumbling through Cassie’s mind. She still wasn’t sure what she wanted—not entirely. But for the first time, the weight of indecision didn’t feel as suffocating.

Bas guided Rocky toward a small rise overlooking the fields, his movements relaxed but purposeful. He turned in his saddle to look at her, his expression suddenly serious.

“Cass,” he said, “I’m not saying this because Declan told me to, or because Freddie would love it, or even because Rupert is secretly betting on it—though he probably is. I’m saying it because I believe in you. You’ve got something the rest of us don’t, and it’s not just your name.”

Cassie blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.

“What is it then?” she asked, her tone quieter now.

Bas paused, his gaze sweeping over the horizon before settling on her again.

“You see people,” he said simply. “Not just their stories, but them. And that’s what Venturer needs right now. Someone who can cut through all the noise and make people feel like they matter.”

For the first time that day, Cassie felt something close to hope. It was fragile, tentative, but it was there.

Maybe Bas was right.

Maybe this was her chance to step out of the shadows.

Maybe it was time.

“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, unsure.

The late afternoon light filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the path. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers and the earthiness of the trail.

Bas guided Rocky toward a small rise overlooking the fields, his movements relaxed but purposeful. Cassie noticed how the dun horse seemed attuned to Bas, its ears flicking back at the slightest shift of weight. Jester followed willingly, his chestnut coat gleaming under the sun, though his steps were slower, mirroring Cassie’s own contemplative mood.

When they reached the rise, Bas turned in his saddle to look at her, his expression suddenly serious. The playfulness she had come to expect from him had softened into something weightier, more deliberate.

“You know,” he began, his voice casual but with a thread of excitement, “Venturer’s invited you to the studio tonight. They want you to see how everything works—meet the team, feel the energy.”

Cassie’s hands tightened on Jester’s reins as she glanced at him, her eyebrows raising in mild surprise.

“You’re late,” she said, her tone half-teasing.

“Late? How am I late?” Bas blinked, caught off guard, “This was supposed to be my big moment.”

“Freddie told me already,” she smirked, patting Jester’s neck, “Right after he got back from Venturer.”

Bas groaned dramatically, throwing his head back as if deeply wounded.

“Of course he did,” he muttered, “Can’t even let me have the joy of being the bearer of exciting news.”

Cassie laughed softly, shaking her head.

“He’s my uncle, Bas. Did you really think he wouldn’t tell me first?”

Bas let the silence linger between them for a few beats, his gaze following the path ahead as Rocky ambled forward. Cassie stayed quiet too, her thoughts turning over his words like smooth stones. It wasn’t just his confidence in her that made her pause—it was the ease with which he assumed she could step into the chaos of Venturer and emerge unscathed.

“So,” Bas said, breaking the silence, his tone lighter, “Does that mean you’re going to accept? Or is it the reason for your overthinking?”

“I don’t know.” Cassie sighed, her expression softening into something more thoughtful. “Freddie told me a little about the meeting and how Cameron eventually agreed. As you may already know, they want me to work on something related to that Suffolk factory scandal—apparently, it’s picking up momentum. I know I’ll say yes eventually, but...”

“But what?” Bas pressed gently, steering Rocky closer to her.

“I’m not sure how it’s going to play out,” she admitted, almost in a whisper, “My name is already tied to so much—my dad, Crawford, everything I’ve done so far. What if this just... Adds to the noise? In a bad way?”

Bas studied her, his usual humor tempered by something more earnest.

“You’re right—there will for sure be noise., good and bane one.” He agreed, humming as he pondered about it, “But there’s also going to be a hell of a lot of substance. You don’t get to the good stuff without making waves, Cass.”

The corner of her mouth lifted into a smile, though the doubt lingering in her eyes didn’t entirely dissipate.

“That’s what Freddie said too, in his own way,” she murmured.

“Well,” Bas replied, his grin returning, “Great minds and all that.”

“Or annoying ones,” Cassie teased, rolling her eyes playfully.

Bas laughed, urging Rocky forward as he glanced over his shoulder.

“Come on,” he said, jerking his chin forward to hurry her along, “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Cassie shook her head lightly at Bas’s audacity, the reins slipping comfortably through her fingers as Jester paced forward, closing the small gap Rocky had created.

“At least this time,” she said with a teasing edge, “you’re warning me before barging in uninvited.”

“See? Progress. I’m evolving.” Bas turned in his saddle, grinning wide. “Besides… You didn’t say ‘no’.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smirk that tugged at her lips. The golden light of the setting sun played over the soft sway of the field grasses, and for a fleeting moment, she felt grounded. But the reality of the evening ahead loomed heavy in her mind.

“And so, what?” Cass lifted a brow, trying to mask the faint flicker of amusement beneath her skepticism, “There was room for a ‘no’?”

Bas tapped his chin dramatically, his expression the picture of mock deliberation.

“Hm... No. Not really.”

Cassie let out a soft laugh despite herself, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. The wind teased strands of her hair as Jester fell into an easy rhythm beside Rocky.

The young Jones hovered just outside the sleek, glass-fronted building of Venturer, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. Under the fluorescent glow of streetlights, the building loomed, its sharp edges and modern facade exuding an intimidating presence. The reflective glass panels mirrored the city’s bustling energy, yet inside, through the transparent walls, she could see a hive of controlled chaos—the newsroom buzzing with purpose even at this late hour.

She shifted on her feet, the cool evening air brushing against her skin, but the tension in her chest made it hard to focus on anything but the daunting scene ahead. Every flicker of movement inside felt magnified, from producers gesturing animatedly to camera operators adjusting equipment with precision. The scale of it all was staggering, a far cry from the quiet solitude of her own investigative work.

Beside her, Bas leaned casually against the edge of a nearby planter, arms crossed and a small, amused smile playing at his lips. His relaxed posture was a sharp contrast to the knots in her stomach.

“Nervous?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her. His tone was light, but there was a knowing quality to it that made Cassie glance his way.

“What gave it away?” she replied dryly, though the tension in her voice betrayed her unease. Her fingers gripped her bag strap tighter, as if it might anchor her to the ground.

“Just a hunch,” Bas chuckled, “Relax… Today they were in a good mood, I doubt that something might have changed that.”

Cassie forced a thin smile but said nothing. Her chest tightened as she glanced back at the building.

Through the transparent walls, she saw the frantic energy that radiated from within—producers huddled over glowing monitors, interns rushing between desks with trays of coffee, and the glow of screens flashing breaking news. It felt like another world entirely, one where every movement had purpose, every glance carried weight.

The atmosphere was completely different from the radio.

It felt like stepping into a different universe, one where every movement had purpose and every glance carried purpose. The controlled chaos of the newsroom was nothing like the quiet intimacy of the radio station she had left behind. That had been a space where her voice had been her only tool, her thoughts carefully constructed before they reached the world.

Here, everything seemed raw, immediate, and relentless.

Her stomach churned as she followed the employees with her eyes. These were people who thrived on the electric buzz of breaking news, the high stakes of live broadcasting.

“There he is,” Bas said suddenly, nodding toward a familiar figure emerging from the revolving doors.

Freddie strode toward them with the steady confidence of someone entirely at home in his domain.

“Right on time,” Her uncle said as he approached. He spared a brief glance at Bas, “What’s going on with Rupert? Lately, it seems like you’ve traded him for Cassie — she’s the one glued to your side now.”

“I like to keep Rupert guessing," Bas grinned, clearly unfazed, ”Besides, he’s been busy these past few days, and, well, someone has to keep me entertained. And she’s much better company.”

Cassie rolled her eyes, “By force. Every time we meet, it’s because you’re either already there or you’ve swung by my place uninvited, luring me out with promises of free food or drinks.”

Bas laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender, “What can I say? I know your weaknesses.”

Freddie shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping him.

“Ready?” He asked, his tone gentler now, though his eyes searched hers carefully.

She took a deep breath and nodded, “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

“Come on. Let’s get you introduced.” Freddie’s expression softened, though his composure remained intact.

He led the way, and Bas gave Cassie a quick pat on the shoulder before falling into step behind them. As they stepped through the revolving doors, the cacophony of the newsroom enveloped her.

The air was thick with the scent of coffee and printer ink, underscored by a persistent buzz of energy that seemed to pulse through the walls. It was electrifying and overwhelming in equal measure.

Cassie’s gaze darted around as they walked deeper into the newsroom. Desks were scattered with papers and half-empty coffee cups, while monitors displayed live feeds and scrolling headlines.

Some employees huddled in intense discussions, their voices blending into a low hum of urgency. While others darted between workstations, their movements swift and purposeful as they carried stacks of papers and trays of drinks.

Every corner of the room seemed alive with purpose, each person contributing to the intricate machinery of Venturer’s operations.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Freddie asked, glancing back at her. His tone was conversational, but there was a hint of pride beneath it.

Cassie nodded, though her stomach churned, “Overwhelming might be the better word.”

“You’ll find your rhythm.” Freddie’s lips curved into a brief smile, “Everyone does.”

As they rounded a corner, Cassie’s attention was drawn to a cluster of monitors displaying various live feeds. One screen showed a rehearsal for an upcoming segment, the anchor’s voice crisp and confident as she practiced her lines. Another displayed vibrant animations breaking down the day’s financial news. The sheer professionalism on display was staggering, and Cassie couldn’t help but feel like an imposter.

They approached a glass-walled studio, where a small group had gathered just outside. Cassie’s pulse quickened as her gaze landed on a tall woman in a sharply tailored blazer. Cameron Cook.

The co-executive producer’s reputation preceded her, and the no-nonsense authority in her posture made Cassie’s nerves spike.

“Ah, our newest addition,” Cameron said as they approached, her tone clipped but polite. Her sharp gaze raked over Cassie in a swift assessment.,“Cassie Jones! Welcome, Cameron Cook.”

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.” Cassie extended her hand, her grip firm despite the tightening in her chest, “But I believe I still have to sign the contract to become the addition.”

“Of course, and soon you will,” Cameron’s smile was brief, a perfunctory gesture that didn’t quite reach her eyes.,“Freddie’s spoken highly of you. Let’s hope you live up to your reputation.”

Before Cassie could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“There she is!” Rupert Campbell-Black strode over, his grin as disarming as ever, “Our rising star.”

Cassie stiffened slightly, but Rupert’s easy charm was hard to resist. He greeted her with the familiarity of an old friend, though they’d barely exchanged more than pleasantries last night.

“You’ve met Cameron,” Rupert said, gesturing toward her before leaning conspiratorially closer to Cassie, “Don’t worry—she’s only terrifying on Wednesdays.”

Cassie’s lips twitched despite herself, though she caught the flicker of irritation in Cameron’s gaze.

“Let’s move along,” Bas cut in smoothly, redirecting the conversation before Rupert could continue his theatrics.

Freddie seized the moment, nodding toward the studio visible through the glass walls, “There’s something I want you to see.”

Cassie followed him into the studio, her heart pounding as she stepped into the epicenter of Venturer’s operations. The space was meticulously organized, every detail fine-tuned for efficiency. The anchor desk gleamed under the studio lights, cameras positioned like sentinels around it. Technicians adjusted microphones and lighting, their movements precise and practiced.

“They’re recording the night’s financial segment,” Freddie explained, his voice low as they stood at the edge of the activity, “You’ll see how everything comes together.”

Cassie watched in awe as the anchor took her place, her composure unwavering. The teleprompter’s glow reflected in her glasses as she scanned her lines one last time. A producer signaled the countdown, and the room fell silent except for the anchor’s voice, steady and authoritative as she began her segment.

Her gaze shifted to the control room visible through another set of glass panels. Inside, directors and producers communicated through headsets, their voices calm yet commanding. Monitors displayed multiple camera angles, graphics overlaying the live feed seamlessly. It was a symphony of coordination, and Cassie felt both awed and intimidated.

On the radio, everything had been raw—immediate. There were no glowing teleprompters or perfectly lit sets.

Her words had to be sharp enough to cut through static, to grab attention without the benefit of polished visuals, in and outside her show. She had relied on her voice alone to hold an audience, to convey urgency and emotion. Here, everything seemed engineered for impact, every detail meticulously arranged to tell the story in high definition.

Everything there circled around her mind as she thought about the invitation to join Venturer. The prospect of stepping into this polished, high-stakes world was both thrilling and terrifying. It was an opportunity she hadn’t dared to imagine—one that could elevate her work, yes, but also tie her name to an institution where everything she did would be under a microscope.

She had seen what her father went through and where it had led him… Was she ready for that?

Freddie glanced around, someone waving at him called his attention. He sighed before turning back to Cassie.

“I need to handle something,” he said, his tone apologetic but firm, “Stay here and watch. This is the best way to understand how we operate.”

He offered her a brief, reassuring smile. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Before she could reply, Freddie slipped away, weaving through the controlled chaos of the studio. Cassie turned her attention back to the action, though the absence of his steady presence left her feeling exposed. She adjusted her bag strap, trying to ground herself amid the swirl of activity.

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted her thoughts.

Cassie turned to see a young man around her age, standing next to a sleek camera rig. He was tall, with a mop of dark curls that frame a sharp but friendly face. His posture was relaxed, his expression open and inviting, as though he’d seen enough of the world to be confident but not enough to be cynical.

“You’re Cassie Jones, right?” he asked, lifting a brow.

Caught off guard, she nodded, “That’s me.”

He smiled, leaning against the camera rig he was adjusting, “Freddie mentioned you might be joining us. Said you were interested in understanding how it all works—from behind the mic to in front of the camera.”

“Did he now?” Cassie smiled, remembering what she had said to him last night, “He makes me sound more ambitious than I am.”

The cameraman chuckled, shaking his head.

“He didn’t,” he clarified, “Said you’d be a good fit, especially with the way you dig into stories. I had heard of you before and, seeing you now, I don’t doubt him.”

Cassie tilted her head, the compliment both flattering and unnerving. One thing was to hear from her uncle, but it always was strange and new to hear such compliments from faces she had never seen before.

“Thank you,” she said, the words cautious but sincere. Her gaze softened as she added, “I hope you’re right.”

He grinned, pushing himself off the camera rig.

“And you are…” she prompted, letting her words trail off as her curiosity piqued.

“Elliot,” he supplied, offering a quick but genuine smile, “Cameraman, occasional tech support, and unofficial snack hoarder of Venturer Studios. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Elliot,” Cassie couldn’t help but laugh softly, “I hope we can team up against Rupert’s stash. I hear he guards it like it’s the crown jewels.”

“Oh, he’s relentless about it. But I’ve got my ways,” Elliot grinned, his eyes lighting up with shared humor, “Stick with me, and you’ll have access to the good stuff—chocolate biscuits, crisps, the occasional gourmet coffee. Perks of being the unofficial snack whisperer.”

Cassie chuckled, the playful warmth in his tone easing some of the tension that had been gnawing at her.

“Gourmet coffee, huh?” She nudged his shoulder lightly, “You really know how to win people over.”

“Well,” he said, leaning casually against the camera rig, his gaze lingering on her just a moment longer than necessary, “You don’t strike me as someone who’s easily won over. But I like a challenge.”

Her cheeks warmed at the subtle edge to his words, but she covered it with a light laugh.

“I’ll take that as a compliment—though I should warn you, I’m more of a tea person.”

“Noted,” Elliot replied smoothly, his grin unwavering, “I’ll keep that in mind for the next snack heist.”

Cassie found herself relaxing further, the camaraderie in his tone an unexpected balm to her nerves. She glanced around the studio, her gaze sweeping over the meticulous choreography of Venturer’s operation. The controlled chaos of producers gesturing at screens, the soft murmur of urgent conversations, and the sharp focus of camera operators adjusting equipment—it was daunting and mesmerizing all at once.

“You’re in for a ride, you know?” Elliot said, nodding toward the bustling studio floor. His voice carried an undercurrent of sincerity now, grounding the levity from moments before. “This place doesn’t slow down for anyone. But I think you’ll fit right in.”

“Yeah?” Cassie tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “What makes you say that? My reputation? Bloody Harrier and all?”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, “Your reputation, sure. But it’s more than that. You’ve got the look—the kind that makes people stop and listen. Not everyone can pull that off.”

The words were casual, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—an understated confidence, a hint of flirtation that wasn’t overplayed but was impossible to ignore.

Cassie opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, a familiar voice cut through the moment with effortless precision.

“Elliot,” Declan O’Hara’s steady baritone cut through the moment, turning both their heads. His presence, even at the edge of the bustling studio, carried an unmistakable authority that made the surrounding activity seem to quiet slightly, “We need you in the control room.”

Elliot straightened from his relaxed stance, flashing Cassie an easy grin before stepping away.

“Duty calls,” he said lightly, giving her a quick wink, “But don’t worry—I’ll keep my word and save you a biscuit for the next heist.”

Cassie managed a small laugh, muttering a thanks as Elliot disappeared into the chaos. The moment of levity he’d offered was gone, replaced by the weight of Declan’s steady presence as he stepped closer.

Her eyes flickered to Declan as he approached, cutting through the controlled chaos of the newsroom with the kind of ease that only came from living in its rhythm. He didn’t rush; his steps were measured, purposeful, as though he knew everything would pause just long enough for him to arrive.

It was impossible to ignore the way the room seemed to tilt in his direction, as if drawn by the quiet gravity he carried.

He wore a dark, tailored suit, the subtle sheen of the fabric catching the low studio lights. His tie was loosened just enough to hint at the relentlessness of the day, and there was a faint shadow of stubble on his jaw that Cassie could only describe as deliberate—calculated imperfection.

“Settling in?” Declan’s voice seemed to cut through the noise around them without effort. It wasn’t loud, but it carried weight, like he’d spent years mastering how to command attention with the bare minimum.

Cassie adjusted the strap of her bag, her fingers brushing over the worn leather as she sought an anchor.

“As much as anyone can in ten minutes,��� she replied, her tone even, though the edges of her nerves showed.

His lips curved into a faint smile—not enough to soften him, but enough to suggest he’d expected the response.

“Ten minutes is enough to know whether you’re intrigued or terrified,” he said, his gaze unwavering.

“Can’t it be both?” she countered, her voice lighter than she felt.

Declan tilted his head, as if considering her words, “Fair. But I’d guess you’re more intrigued than you’re letting on. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Cassie’s breath caught briefly, the casual certainty in his tone unsettling. It wasn’t arrogance—it was an understanding that felt earned, as if he’d seen her hesitation before she’d even recognized it herself. She straightened slightly, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

“Sincerely,” she sighed, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Declan raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t interrupt. His silence felt deliberate, giving her the space to continue.

“I want to be part of it, truly, despite the outcome,” Cassie confessed, glancing at Declan. “It is the right thing and the right step for my career, but I can’t stop the feeling that I didn’t earn it. My name did, my relation to my uncle and father did it.”

Declan’s expression didn’t shift dramatically, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—not pity, but a quiet intensity, as though he were weighing her words. He leaned back slightly, one hand resting on the desk beside him.

“Maybe the name got you in the door,” he said, his tone calm and deliberate, “But it’s not why you’re still here. That’s on you.”

Cassie’s lips parted as if to argue, but the words didn’t come. Instead, her shoulders sagged, his words settling alongside her own doubts.

“It doesn’t always feel that way,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, “Do you know why Crawford hired me? He discovered Freddie is my uncle, that was enough for him to consider giving me a show. He didn’t get to discover about my father, but I can only imagine that he would have considered it quicker.”

Declan stepped to her side, his movements deliberate but not hurried, as though giving her the space to process. When he spoke, his voice was softer, just as yesterday.

“Do you know when I started seeing you?” he asked, searching for her eyes, “It wasn’t when Freddie mentioned someone who could work here—honestly, I don’t even remember him saying your name that day. No, it was when you invaded your ex-colleague’s show and made it your own, two days ago, perhaps?”

Cassie blinked, her brows knitting together in surprise.

“Do you truly mean it?” she asked, her voice hesitant, as if unsure whether she wanted to hear the answer.

Declan’s gaze didn’t waver.

“I do,” he said simply, “It wasn’t just the audacity of it—though I’ll admit, that caught my attention. It was the way you held the room. The way you spoke, not just with conviction, but with care. You weren’t just talking to fill airtime. You had something to say, and people listened.”

Cassie’s throat tightened, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. She didn’t know what to say, so she looked away, her gaze flitting over the newsroom as though it could offer her some escape.

“I know you feel like you didn’t earn it,” Declan continued, his voice steady but low, as though speaking to her and her alone, “That it was handed to you by Freddie. But I’ll tell you this: I’ve been bidding for you since the day you did that last show on Crawford FM. It’s only been a few days, and I know it might sound presumptuous, but I believe in your potential. Not your name. Not your connections. You.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and charged. Cassie felt her lungs drained, lacking oxygen despite her breathing in and out. It wasn’t the anxiety this time, but something else, something sharper and more difficult to define.

Slowly, she turned back to him, her gaze meeting his.

The sincerity in his tone unsettled her more than she cared to admit. She searched his face for something—arrogance, calculation, or even flattery, as most of the men in their field would pursue—but there was none.

Just a steady conviction that made her feel simultaneously seen and exposed.

What am I even doing here? The question clawed at her thoughts. The newsroom buzzed with a purpose she wasn’t sure she could match, the weight of expectations pressing down on her chest. She wanted to believe Declan’s words, to let them pull her out of the mire of self-doubt, but the shadows of her past choices lingered.

Her mind raced back to Crawford FM—the nights she spent pouring over documents, the restless urgency of exposing what everyone else seemed content to ignore. It had been exhilarating and terrifying, a tightrope walk where one misstep could cost her everything. And now, here was Declan O’Hara, a man whose reputation was built on sharp instincts and unshakable confidence, telling her she was worth the gamble.

“Why?” she asked, “I did ask you this yesterday, when you were in my house, I believe. If not, I’m asking now. Why do you believe in me? You had said yourself that you had only searched about me, like—two days ago.”

It felt strange, vulnerable even, to ask such a thing outright. But she had to know.

Declan’s lips curved into a smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes but felt genuine nonetheless.

“Because what I heard that day wasn’t a name or a legacy.” He shrugged, as if he was saying the simplest thing in the world, “It was someone who cared enough to find the truth and tell it, no matter the cost. That’s what matters. That’s what lasts.”

For a moment, Cassie couldn’t speak. The weight in her chest shifted, lighter now, letting the oxygen fill her lungs despite the lingering pressure in them. She exhaled slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing as she straightened.

Declan’s words lingered, resonating in a place she didn’t know existed—a fragile space between doubt and possibility. She wanted to dismiss him, to chalk up his praise to strategy or manipulation, but there was nothing in his demeanor that suggested pretense.

Her mind raced back to the endless hours at Crawford FM. The nights she burned through research, the relentless pace of deadlines, the way her chest tightened every time she hit “send” on a risky story. The way she learned to steel herself against the inevitable pushback.

It had been lonely, exhausting work, but it had been hers. She wasn’t sure if Venturer—or Declan—was ready for someone like her, or if she was ready for what they might expect.

And yet, his words wouldn’t leave her.

“You’re not afraid that I’ll ruin what you’ve built?” Cassie glanced at him, her gaze sharp, “That bringing me on will taint Venturer’s reputation? You’ve just escaped from someone like Tony Baddingham. I don’t exactly have a clean slate myself.”

Declan’s expression didn’t falter. If anything, he seemed to grow more resolute. He leaned in, his voice low but unwavering.

“If I worried about reputations, Cassie, I wouldn’t be here. And neither would you.”

She held his gaze, searching for cracks in his conviction, but found none. There was something almost disarming about how steady he was, how unshaken by her doubts.

“What I care about,” Declan continued, “is the work. The truth. You’ve proven you care about that too, even when it costs you. That’s the kind of person I want on my team.”

A knot formed in Cassie’s chest, her breath catching as a tangle of emotions surged within her—gratitude, fear, hope, doubt. It was rare to hear someone speak about her with such unwavering certainty, and rarer still to believe it might be true. Lately, the only ones who had been her constant pillars were Freddie, Lizzie, and Bas.

In the past few months, they had been the steady figures in her life—the ones who knew her best, who saw her struggles without needing explanations. So, having someone who had once been a distant figure, a name on a screen, now looking at her with such unwavering trust felt surreal.

It was disorienting, this shift from admiration to recognition, from idol to… She didn’t know yet how to label him.

But it was different, it was nice.

“Do you already have a contract?” she asked suddenly, interrupting her own thoughts this time.

Declan didn’t answer right away, he narrowed his eyes at her figure as he tried to understand what she meant by the random question. Yet, when their eyes met again, there were no doubts left in his expression, only certainty.

As in hers.

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part seven] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex

word count: 3.6k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!! ; i know minho is the chef of the group but just suspend your disbelief for this series and pretend it’s jisung

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

The following morning came way too fast for your liking. Jisung snoozed his alarm three times and you were still passed out by the time he finally shook you awake. You followed the plan that he’d outlined, using makeup to cover the hickey as best you could. You could still see some purple peeking through if you squinted, but you hoped no one would look at your neck that closely. 

Since you’d worn matching t-shirts yesterday you weren’t being forced to coordinate outfits today. You didn’t even pay attention to the clothes you threw on before you were tying your hair out of your face and walking out the door with Jisung. 

You held his hand, half out of habit, half to steady yourself. You were even more sore than you had been yesterday, like you had predicted, and were having trouble staying upright. 

The rest of the Hans were already in the lobby waiting for you to join them. 

Dom took notice of your wobbly state right away as you stumbled down the stairs with Jisung’s help and cracked a smile. “Can you walk?” he joked. 

Both Minho and Felix whipped their attention towards you but avoided your eyes, expressions unreadable. You could feel Jisung smirking behind you, his hand resting on the small of your back. 

You just grinned sheepishly and nodded. “I’m just sore from yesterday, that’s all.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Jisung’s brothers exchange a look and you wanted to die in the spot. You knew they thought you were lying, knew they thought you were sore for a completely different reason. You clearly hadn’t thought your plans from last night through, because this was mortifying. 

“Well do some stretches because we’re going to be doing a lot more walking today,” he exclaimed cheerfully. 

“I’ll be sure to do that,” you promised him half-heartedly, cheeks burning. 

-

You and Jisung lagged behind the rest of the group, like usual, as Dom and Nikki led the way to the first stop of the day. You paused for breakfast at a different, but similar, café and Minho ordered an assortment of baked goods for the six of you to share. Everyone was quiet as they ate, exhaustion already starting to take its toll on the family. 

You were only one day in and your energy was fading. Thankfully, there would be a few days of rest between France and Italy, but until then you were stuck running on empty. 

-

You almost strangled Minho when he elected to take the stairs to the top of the Eiffel Tower instead of taking the elevators, but kept your composure and settled for mumbling complaints to yourself as you trekked up the 1665 stairs with the rest of the Hans. 

“How are you not sore?” you groaned, low enough so that only Jisung would hear. 

“I am, I’m just not dramatic about it like some people.”

“I will push you off of this goddamn tower right fucking now,” you threatened. 

Your best friend gave you an amused look. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t test me.”

“I’m used to this,” Jisung explained. “Twenty-something years of Han Family Vacations trained me for this moment.”

“Do you guys ever just go to the beach?”

“We do. But there’s lots to do at the beach too. Surfing, volleyball, football, jet skiing, snorkeling, scuba diving-”

“Oh my god, do you people know how to relax?”

“No, not really. It’s not something we’re particularly good at.”

“I guess that explains why you’re all good at everything else.”

If you thought you were winded by the time you made it to the second level of the structure, it was nothing compared to when you reached the top. Your legs felt like jelly and your lungs were on fire. You also felt like you might be sick but that had more to do with your debilitating fear of heights than it did with being winded. 

At least you were able to take comfort in the fact that everyone else was also out of breath. Felix was even doubled over with his hands on his knees, wincing like he had just been kicked in the stomach. 

“Yup, definitely going to feel that tomorrow,” Minho grunted, stretching an arm across his chest. 

“And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself,” you added bitterly. 

He dropped his arm and smiled at you, cocking his head to the side in a playful manner. Sweat had started to gather along his brow, making his bangs stick to his forehead. His hair was a bit lighter than Jisung’s, and not as wild. From what you could tell Minho didn’t make as much effort to style his hair as Jisung did, at least, if he didn’t have anywhere important to go. Minho could get away with leaving his hair down straight, while Jisung had to fight with his curls in the mirror for a minimum of fifteen minutes before he considered himself presentable. He’d let it grow past his shoulders if you let him, but whenever it began to curl up around his ears you always begged him to cut it, insisting that a mullet wouldn’t do him any favors. 

Minho was still smiling at you and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him. 

“What?” you demanded. 

“Nothing,” he said earnestly, shaking his head. “I’m just surprised you still have a voice, that’s all.”

There went your face again, burning with embarrassment. You could feel Minho’s gaze on your neck and brought your hand up to it subconsciously, fingers brushing over where Jisung had given you the hickey. Had you already sweat your makeup off? It wouldn’t surprise you given the heat and amount of exercise you had just done. 

But if Jisung had noticed it, he didn’t say anything. In fact, he didn’t say anything else about last night for the rest of the day. 

“Want a drink?” Jisung piped up from behind you, putting a hand on your waist. 

“I already have a water bottle,” you replied in confusion. 

“No, like a drink,” he clarified and tipped his hand towards his mouth with his thumb and pinky out, nodding at something behind him. 

It was a champagne bar, and it had just opened for the day, but there was already a significant line formed at the counter. It seemed as if all of the visitors were eager to start day drinking as soon as humanly possible. 

You considered Jisung’s suggestion and shrugged. When were you going to get the chance to drink champagne on top of the Eiffel Tower again? And if everyone was doing it, you might as well join…

Jisung rallied his brothers to go order for your party while you waited with his parents. Dom and Nikki decided to go look out over the edge of the balcony while you stayed back, having already pushed the limits with your fear of heights. You people-watched instead, observing the numerous couples and families enjoying their vacations. 

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to Jisung offering you a flute of rose champagne. The glass was cold to the touch and it soothed your warm skin. You clinked your glass against his in cheers and took a small sip. The bubbles felt good on your throat and you had to remind yourself not to chug the rest in front of Jisung’s family. Despite what they already knew about you, you still wanted to keep up appearances as much as possible. 

“This is pretty romantic, isn’t it?” Jisung remarked, staring off at the surrounding city.

“It would be if I wasn’t sweating my ass off,” you sighed. 

He chuckled and shook his head. “The alcohol is just going to make it worse.” 

“I know,” you groaned, “but it’s cold and it makes my brain feel tingly so I’m going to ignore that.”

“A couple more of these and you won’t be able to walk back down the stairs.”

“I’m already not able to walk back down the stairs. I can barely feel my fucking legs,” you complained, taking a bigger sip of your champagne. 

“Maybe we should have trained you for this,” Jisung joked. “Like how athletes train for marathons or something.”

“I don’t think it would’ve helped,” you admitted.

He shrugged and downed the last of his drink in one go. “Guess we’ll never know.”

-

You and Jisung spent your free day roaming around the city by yourselves. You visited the bookstore Minho had told you about and Jisung bought you a couple of books- despite your protests. He insisted that it was part of his duties as your fake boyfriend as well as compensation for agreeing to be his fake girlfriend and who were you to deny him? You actually did try to deny him, several times. But he was annoying enough to get you to break so you let him buy you some paperbacks off of your to-read list and a French translation of your favorite novel. 

By the evening you were both too tired to stray much further than where you had found yourselves so you were content to stay put and wander the surrounding streets together. 

Notre Dame was across the street from the book shop so you made your way over there so that you could stare up at it in awe. The cathedral was still closed for construction so there wasn’t much to do there other than take a picture in front of it while making an obscene gesture at the camera. 

After that Jisung led you down the steps to the Seine river where you sat in comfortable silence together. You perched yourselves on the edge of the water, Jisung sitting cross-legged with you laying your head in his lap, and left each other to your own devices. You started reading one of your new books and Jisung pulled out his camera to capture what was happening around you.

The sun was beginning to set behind the tall arched roofs, bathing the city in soft pinkish-orange light. The water was too choppy to make out a proper reflection of the sunset, but you could still catch glimpses of pink clouds and fading blue sky if you really tried. 

Slowly, the noise and life around you died down along with daylight. Pedestrians and bikers were fewer and fewer until there were hardly any at all. You and Jisung waved to the ferries and party boats as they passed, delighting in the blinking lights and honking horns you got in return. 

It wasn’t long until Jisung convinced you to pack up your things with him to head back to the hotel. You slept in the taxi on the way home.

-

The rest of the French leg of the vacation consisted of a bus trip to Versailles, a day exploring the historical neighborhoods of Provence, and an afternoon getting lost in Cassis before you were getting your passport stamped at the Port du Cassis to travel to Italy. 

Italy was Jisung’s choice, being the foodie of the group. He was interested in the touristy stuff too, but his main motivation for choosing Italy was the culinary aspect.

You wouldn’t arrive for a couple of days though, since you were traveling by fucking yacht. The plan was to set sail from Cassis and take the scenic route through the Mediterranean Sea all the way to Venice. 

You had been in shock when you first stepped on board the Fallin’ Flower and you were still shocked an hour later once you had been dismissed to unpack. You had never been on a yacht before and you weren’t entirely convinced that you were on one now. You thought you might have been dreaming. 

“What do your parents do again?” you mumbled in disbelief as you settled into your own little cabin with Jisung. 

“Uh, Dad’s a writer. He does some stand-up comedy. Mom’s got her own photography business.”

You looked up at the crystal chandelier above the bed. “Are you sure your family doesn’t have any gang affiliation?”

Jisung laughed and shook his head. “You still haven’t figured it out?”

“Figured what out?”

“Minho.”

“What about Minho?”

“He’s the one paying for most of this.”

“What? How? He’s only like twenty-something!”

“He’s a dancer.”

“Like on Broadway?”

“Try K-pop.”

“Damn,” you whispered, feeling almost numb with shock that your best friend was related to someone famous. “Is he any good?”

“A lot of people seem to think so,” he said with a shrug. “Nowadays he mostly choreographs for groups but he used to be a backup dancer for BTS and is pretty well known in the industry and related circles, especially among their fans.”

Suddenly it all made sense. The Audi, the yacht- why Minho always had his hood up like he wanted to blend in. A fucking K-pop idol. Kind of. 

“You probably don’t remember this,” Jisung added after a moment’s pause, “but when we first met I asked if you liked K-pop.”

“And that’s how you decided if we could be friends or not,” you concluded.

Jisung nodded. “You said you’d never listened to a single song. So I knew you’d like me for me.”

“Do people really try to use you just to get to your brother?” you asked.

“You’d be surprised.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.”

Silence fell between the two of you as you continued to put away your things. 

“I can’t believe you never told me your brother is famous.” 

“I know. I’m sorry,” he sighed. “Are you mad?” 

You considered your answer before you said it. It did sting a little that Jisung wouldn’t tell you something as big as this, you were under the impression that you told each other everything, but you understood why. Even though it made it seem like he didn’t completely trust you. 

“No,” you answered finally. “I’m not mad. I’m a little hurt, we’ve been friends for so long, but I get why you wouldn’t want to tell me.”

“It’s not that I thought you’d see me differently, or ditch me for my brother, but I was selfish. I wanted to keep you to myself for as long as possible.” His admission took you by surprise but made you feel warm regardless, even if it didn’t fully make sense to you. “It was never about you,” he assured you. “It was always about him.”

You nodded and cleared your throat awkwardly. Neither of you had ever been very good at the deep stuff. 

“I think I’m going to go lay out on the deck,” you said, grabbing one of your bikinis from your open suitcase. “You wanna come?”

Jisung declined, mumbling something about a sunburn waiting to happen, and opted to nap in the cabin instead. He promised to join you later and laid back on the bed, left arm covering his eyes. 

You changed into your swimsuit and made your way up to the top deck of the boat where Nikki and Minho were laid out in sun chairs already, chatting about the view of the water. 

“Y/n!” Nikki exclaimed when you entered her field of vision. She sat up and pushed her sunglasses back to look at you properly. “I’m so glad to see you up and about, come join us!”

You swallowed thickly and approached the two, sitting gingerly on the edge of a lounge chair across from them. Minho shot you a glance and smiled easily. You waited for the weird feeling or the nervousness to come, now that you knew more about who he really was, but it didn’t. He was still just Minho to you. You were much more nervous talking to Jisung’s mom. 

“Where’s Jisung?” Nikki asked, voicing what Minho must’ve also been thinking.

“He’s resting in our room,” you explained. “I wanted to catch a bit of sun before it set so it’s just me for now.”

“That’s good too,” she said, her smile matching Minho’s. “I’ve been meaning to tell you how happy I am that you’re tagging along with us!”

“I think you told her, mum,” Minho pointed out, sounding embarrassed on Jisung’s behalf. 

“I know, but I just meant that the more I get to know you the more I can see why you make Jisung so happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.”

You felt a pang of guilt twist in your chest, another one of those nagging thoughts telling you that what you were doing was wrong. It’s true that you made Jisung happy, just not in the way his mom thought. 

“I don’t know if he told you this,” she continued, “but we’ve never met one of his girlfriends. So when he told us about you-”

“Mom,” Minho interrupted, sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to give her a look. 

Nikki pursed her lips together and took the cue from her eldest. “Sorry, I won’t embarrass Jisung anymore while he isn’t here to defend himself.”

“When he’s present it’s fair game?” you guessed. 

“Exactly. Same goes for all my boys.” The last part was clearly directed at Jisung who tsked in exasperation and put his AirPods in. 

You watched your best friend’s mother pick up the book that had been laying flat on her stomach and resume reading it, prompting you to fish a book of your own out from your tote bag. 

“Oh, hon, don’t forget to put on sunscreen,” Nikki reminded you suddenly, “you might not burn as easily as our family, but it’s still important to protect your skin. If you need some you can borrow some of ours.”

“That would be great, actually.” 

Nikki passed a tube of sunscreen to Minho who passed it to you. You smiled gratefully and immediately began applying the lotion to your arms and legs. You hoped Jisung’s mom didn’t think any less of you for forgetting something so important. You knew it wasn’t that big of a deal, but internally you were docking yourself points from the Hans’ overall impression of you. 

Once you covered every part of your body that you could reach you were left with a dilemma. You still needed sunscreen on your back. You could either ask your supposed boyfriend’s mom to help you apply it, or your supposed boyfriend’s older brother. Neither option was ideal, nor was walking all the way back downstairs and waking up the aforementioned supposed boyfriend just to put sunscreen on your back. 

You’d just ask his mom. No big deal. It was like asking an aunt, right? There was no reason you couldn’t-

When you looked back over to Nikki you realized that she had fallen asleep. Her book lay abandoned on her shoulder, likely still turned to the same page it had been when she last picked it up a few minutes ago. You debated waking her up, but decided against it.

It was fine. You could just burn. It wouldn’t be that big of a deal. You wouldn’t stay out in the sun for too long anyway…. but you knew Jisung would be mad at you if you did. And Nikki would be disappointed if she found out that you had gotten a sunburn literally right after she had told you to put sunblock on. 

It wouldn’t be a big deal to ask Minho if you didn’t make it a big deal. All you had to do was get up the courage and-

“Do you need help?”

You almost screamed when you heard Minho break the silence. It was as if he could read your mind- not that it was hard to when you had your arms wrapped awkwardly around your torso, hands covered in white lotion trying to reach your back with little success. 

“Uh, yeah. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

Minho stood from his chair and crossed the deck to yours where he situated himself behind you on the cushion, straddling the metal frame of the chair. He held one of his hands out for your to wipe the sunscreen off of yours so that he could apply it.

“I’m going to start with your neck, okay?” he asked. You nodded in response. “It might be a little cold.”

You braced yourself for his touch, but still tensed when you felt his fingers on your skin for the first time. The lotion was cold, and a shiver rolled down your spine as he began to rub it in. His hands were strong. It was impossible not to notice with the way he was massaging the sunscreen into your shoulders. Your breath hitched when he slid a finger under one of your bikini straps and pushed it to the side. He muttered a tight “sorry” as he worked on the areas that had been covered by the straps and quickly moved on to your lower back. 

You told him it was fine, but your voice was shaky. You tried to tell yourself that it was fine, but you were less convinced. 

Minho was a friend, friends did this for each other all the time. But your body was betraying you. Your heart was racing, and you couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or… something else. Something else that you wouldn’t let yourself think about. 

It wasn’t even that hot out, but you were sweating, and you prayed Minho couldn’t feel it. You breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled your straps back up to where they had been sitting on your shoulders, only for your relief to be cut short as he slipped his hand under the band across your back with more sunscreen.

And as luck would fucking have it another voice piped up from out of nowhere. A voice belonging to your best friend. 

“What did I miss?”

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