#Page: -big wet eyes- you see me as a brother...?

[wynn-ing]

Fun fact, the shirt Page is wearing is the same shirt he lent Etienne in the first fic <3 He finally got it back!

Saw a tumblr post that made me feel sappy about these two <3 (from my fanfic, here!)

[macfrog]

san angelo | one shot

what happens when joel miller meets his star-crossed lover?

big love to @mrsmando and @5oh5 for cheering me on with this one, and @bageldaddy for being my eyes, my ears, and - only sometimes - my brain.

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader summary: it's the summer of two thousand eight. after two weeks following his little brother cross-country on the back of a harley, joel follows him through the doors of a dive bar - where fate delivers him to you. warnings: story is inserted into canon, so cordyceps outbreak happens, sarah dies (off-page), joel dissociates, doomed love, lots of mention of fate, alcohol consumption, reader is a smoker, cursing, drunken one-night stand, oral sex, unprotected piv, joel's cock is massive, a lot of angst, a lot of fluff, a lil smut to tie it all together. enjoy! word count: 9.8k

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Palm lines.

It’s the first thing he thinks as soon as she stops moving in his arms. The second her little whimpers cease, the moment her chest stops heaving and her eyes glaze over. Suddenly, Joel’s little girl weighs more than he can bear.

Palm lines. And he has no fucking idea why.

He closes his eyes and there you are. The whir of the ceiling fan, the tinkling of bracelets loose on your wrist. You have sorta earth hands, you told him. Or, well – they could be water, if you look at ‘em this way. I don’t really know. I’m still learning.

You told him that air hands were long, spindly. And Sarah was always a lanky kid – tallest on the soccer team, head and shoulders above the other girls by the third grade. Her hands, he thinks, must be air. They must be.

Her fingers are still twisted around his right now. Lifeless, slippery with the blood still wet and quickly cooling.

Joel cradles her, squeezing so hard that he wonders whether he might be able to fuse their bodies together. Lock them in some white-knuckle grip so that he never has to let go of her – never has to leave this hill covered in dirt and blood.

His palms are ruined; a maroon river carving its way down his heart line, dirt deep in the groove of his life line. Why does he even fucking remember what they’re called?

Why the fuck are you what he’s thinking about, right now?

“Tommy,” he says, opening his eyes again. “We gotta…we gotta get to…”

She’s limp, draped over his thighs as though she’s nothing more than a stretch of crimson curtain. He looks down at her and begs her to come back, begs her to open her eyes and look up at him again.

But the night is passing and she’s still not breathing. Dawn is breaking and Joel’s daughter is dead.

He sucks in a shattered breath. “…to San Angelo, Tommy.”

The younger Miller stuffs his gun into the back of his jeans and paces over, soles coated thick in shit and grass. “I hear you, Joel.”

“You ain’t listenin’ to me, I –”

“I’m listenin’ fine, Joel.” Tommy hooks his hands under his niece’s arms. “Now, help me lift her. We can’t…” his voice strains, fighting the death grip his brother has on the girl, “…we can’t leave her here.”

Joel’s frozen to the spot; sinking further and further into the earth. Staring at his open hands, the stains like rust on his palms. He says to San Angelo again, and Tommy snaps.

“Jesus, Joel, enough! I’ve heard enough goddamn it! I see your hands, now – we gotta fuckin’ bury Sarah.”

Your fate line, your nail tickled, and Joel held his hand steady, It can change, if something big is coming.

Somethin’ big? he asked. A little younger, a lot more naïve. Still a healthy dose of belief in the world, an echo of the god-fearing faith that raised him.

His hand felt so light, cradled in two of yours. He half hoped he’d never have to let go – just lie there with you forever. Your legs tangled with his, the sheets disturbed; the room injected with amber from the streetlights outside.

You nodded. A big shift, or something.

And he scoffed. He actually scoffed, right there and then. Incredulous. The hell kinda big shift is comin’ our way? he asked, laughing.

You just smiled back, shrugging. You were so fucking casual, that whole night. It would’ve unnerved him, if he hadn’t been so swept off by the sparkle in your eye, the glowing cherry of your cigarette.

Guess we just gotta wait ‘n see.

It’s August thirtieth, two thousand eight.

Almost five thousand miles on the back of a Harley, and Joel just wants to go home.

He arches his aching back, palms flat against the crests of his hips, and blinks in the light from the food mart in front of him. Twenty-six, he thinks to himself, only twenty-fuckin’-six.

It’s ninety degrees out. An uncomfortable heat, for a man who feels ten years older than he really is. For a man who hasn’t had a decent shower in almost two weeks. For a man who’s spent the last six hours tailing the brake lights of his little brother’s bike.

The sweat gathers sticky between his shoulder blades, prickles along the nape of his neck. There’s dust spattered down his bare arms and buried in the grooves of his knuckles.

He’s tired. He’s tired, he’s dirty, and goddamn, he wishes he was back home.

He holds a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, the yellow sky melting to a purple haze. Squinting, he follows the soar of two swallows overhead, looping through the sky, until he’s rubbing the image from his eyes with the back of his wrist.

He’s gotta remember to call Sarah before she goes to bed.

The door opens with the tinkle of a brass bell older and rustier than Joel feels. A swaggering figure splits the glow from the store in two – a figure with a pack of Marlboros in one hand and an already half-empty bottle of water in the other.

Tommy holds them both out to Joel, who swipes the water with a scowl.

“Ain’t killed you yet, brother,” Tommy scoffs, stuffing the cigarettes into his back pocket. He swings a frayed-denim leg over the seat of his Harley.

Joel drains the bottle, panting as he crushes the plastic in one fist. “Damn near tryin’,” he mutters, tossing it in the trash. He runs his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Where are we?” Tommy asks. He glances over his shoulder, staring from the cracked roads to the telephone wires overhead. A Syclone pulls into the lot; a dehydrated squeal as it rolls to a halt.

“San Angelo,” Joel says. “Only a few more hours to go.” He settles on his own bike, pulling his leather jacket over his shoulders. “We passed a Super 8 coming into town, if you feel like restin’ up. Or – we leave now, be home around midnight.”

Tommy chuckles. “What’s the rush? We ain’t gotta be anywhere anytime soon.”

And Joel agrees – for the most part.

His mom is watching Sarah while they’re gone, and he reckons she’s hardly missing him. Too smart for her own good, Joel’s realizing: plotting and scheming her way into staying up past her bedtime, drinking Pepsi at dinner, watching Curtis and Viper – and swearing that her dad lets her do it all, too.

But, still. He misses his kid.

It’s the most they’ve ever been apart – time or distance. The longest he hasn’t had her climbing up his back or hanging off his arm. The least he’s been called Dad since he was eighteen years old.

He just…misses his kid.

He sighs, drumming his fingers on the body of the bike. “Tommy, I gotta get back home to Sarah.”

“Look,” Tommy says, and Joel knows that the argument is lost already, “By the time we got back, she’d be asleep anyways. Let’s leave in the morning – first thing, I swear – and we’ll be home in time for breakfast. Deal?”

They stare at one another, a stand-off in the parking lot. Both waiting for the other to break. The swallows gather on the roof of the store, basking in the weak wash of flickering fluorescents.

“Come on, brother,” Tommy pleads, “It’s one more night.” He lifts his helmet, punching it over his mop of shaggy hair, and kicks the bike to life.

Joel growls to himself, watching it drift over to the side of the road.

He considers heading to the Super 8 alone, grabbing a room only to shower and get some food, then hitting the road and leaving his little brother in the dust. Waiting for him to stumble through the door tomorrow morning – tired, groggy, probably hungover – while Joel, fresh as a daisy, drizzles syrup over Sarah’s pancakes and pours her orange juice.

He’s a pragmatic man. He’s a grown-up. Scares away the ghosts and ghouls and monsters of his daughter’s nightmares. Shushes her back to sleep in the crook of his arm, tiptoes as lightly as he can out of her room so as not to wake her.

Things like God, like the universe, things like horoscopes and laws of attraction…for the most part, Joel can do without them. Has done his whole life.

But then – the glow of indigo overhead, and the mysterious shadows lurking behind the buildings. The birdsong tittering in his ears, the twinkle of the sun in Tommy’s helmet – something distant in the dusty sphere.

Something, someone, winking at him from far away.

Something a little heavier than the breeze nudges at his spine, and Joel’s arms lift – fitting his own helmet over his head. He swings the heel of his boot into his kickstand and revs the bike, Harley roaring as it joins Tommy’s out on the boulevard.

Murphy’s is a small, green bar on the corner of an intersection. All peeled paint lettering and buzzing fluorescents – the y burnt out and pulsing.

Joel doesn’t think Tommy picked it for any reason other than the huge Lone Star mural on the side of the goddamn building, the way he tosses his thumb to it as they park up. A squint smirk on his face, muttering something like ‘s good to be home, big brother, as they hook helmets over handlebars.

Tommy leads Joel inside, their boots tacky on the wooden floor. Walls paneled by aged frames and sun-bleached photographs; air hanging thick with a smell like vinegar. The babble of slurred conversation is pierced by the sharp crack of pool balls breaking.

Metal-plate belt buckles snaked through strained jeans; low eyes which shift to size-up the two strangers. They all turn back to their fingerprinted glasses when Joel and Tommy settle into an empty booth.

It feels hotter in here than it is outside, stuffier. A thick humidity which clings to Joel’s bones, humming like the string lights draped from beams above his head.

Tommy reclines between the creaking leather cushion and the wall. He pokes at a yellowing poster of some Western, hums to himself, and then looks across the table.

Joel’s eyes loop once around the room before they meet his brother’s. “What?” he asks.

“First round is yours, old man.”

“Oh, is it, now?” He cocks an eyebrow. “Thought this was your idea?”

A weedy grin stretches across Tommy’s lips. He needs to fucking shave, Joel thinks. Whiskers poking from around his small mouth like pine needles. “’s my birthday trip,” he reasons.

And can Joel argue with that? Does he have the fucking energy? Will it get him out of here and back to Austin any quicker?

“Goddamn it,” he grumbles. He pushes himself to his feet, heels of his palms against the tacky wood.

He wanders over to the bar, tugging on the front of his tee to unstick it from his damp chest. Slots in beside an ivory cowboy hat with a pair of jeaned legs. The man fixes his bolo tie and watches Joel’s hand as he flags the bartender down.

And then he feels it.

You.

Then he feels you.

First, the weight of you – crashing some into his back. He shunts forward from the suddenness of it, knocking his ribs against the bar, and lifts a hand to brace himself on the ledge.

And then – heat, like an iron. Like every hair and freckle on your skin is branded into his the second you come into contact with him. A feeling like the roll of a wave against his spine, a hand hooked around his forearm when he begins to turn.

“Shit,” you hiss, steadying yourself on the curve of his shoulder. You glance down at your feet, clicking between your black boots. “I’m sorry, that was…that was my bad.”

“’s alright,” Joel says instantly. He holds his arm still until you let go and he sidesteps – though only a little. He watches, dumbstruck, as you rest your elbows on the bar and lean forward. His eyes linger on your back, trailing the crisscross straps wrapped tight over your spine.

You squint up at the menu pinned above shelves of crystal bottles. Your eyes move back and forth across the chalkboard, slowly descending until they’re meeting his in the speckled mirror opposite – a sweet smile growing on your lips.

It runs like whiskey through Joel’s veins: warm and dangerous.

And the way his head spins, the way the world blurs for a moment into one swipe of color around you; the way your cooing laugh echoes between his ears long after he’s heard it –

Joel’s already intoxicated.

He’s still staring when you pull back and motion to the bar. “You can go first, by the way,” you say, waving a hand. “I wasn’t cuttin’ in line. Just trying to read the drinks.”

“I’ll wait,” he replies, remembering how to be polite, how to be charming. Old cogs long out of use jerking to life inside him again. “Can’t read any of ‘em, either, anyways.”

It draws from you that same little laugh, a puff of air from your nostrils. You nod, biting your bottom lip.

He’s quickly forgetting why he’s stood in this room, why he’s in this city. He’d probably forget his own fucking name if you asked him right now what it was.

“’nother drink, darlin’?” a low voice interrupts, and you’re turning away.

Joel’s eyes follow you – a moth chasing something golden and radiant – as you face the wiggle of a snow-white mustache poking from beneath the brim of that ivory cowboy hat.

You shake your head, lifting two fingers with a bill slipped between them. “I’m good, thanks, George. Maybe next round.” You wave to the kid behind the bar – some name that Joel’s too fucking mindless to hear. Too distracted by the glint in your eye, the sparkle of your crescent moon earrings in the light.

If only he knew this feeling. If only he could put a name to it. As familiar as the sun and yet, brand new like dawn. His stomach swirls in a fleet of butterflies – as though he’s fifteen again, bumping elbows with his high school crush.

You nudge him, thumb pointing in the direction of the bartender.

Joel shakes his head. “Ladies first,” he says, heart skipping when you hold his stare.

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head, “Told you I ain’t jumping in.”

He asks the guy for two beers, barely taking his eyes off you. “Alright,” he leans in, lowering his voice, “Then let me buy you a drink. Make up for gettin’ in your way just then.”

You prop your chin on your knuckles, grinning as you push your twenty around the wooden bar top, dodging pooled rings of alcohol like it’s an arcade game. “I don’t do that,” you say, eyes tracing the slick trail left by the bill.

“Do what?”

“Accept drinks from strange men in bars.”

His tongue presses against the back of his teeth, the taste of humor honey-sweet. “Yeah? ‘n how long have you known…” he nods to the – what is he, sixty? Sixty-five? – year-old on your right, “…George?”

Your gaze lifts, eyes wide. Apparently as impressed by Joel’s confidence as he is himself. “We’re actually in a very serious relationship. Marriage proposal imminent.”

“Damn,” he mutters as the bartender reappears with two Coors, “And here I thought I had half a chance.”

You hum to yourself, studying him. Looking from his jaw across the span of his shoulders, his wide-knuckled hands and then back to his lips. Curious and wary, judging the strange animal stood before you.

And he knows he’s weathered from the weeks on the road, and all the years before that. Dirt under his nails and the light sheen of sun on his forehead. The flecks of gray through his thick, brown beard.

You take a deep breath, eyes twinkling, and tell him, “I’m here with my friend.”

“Ain’t that lucky?” Joel glances at Tommy. “I’m here with my brother.”

You look across to the dirty blond, sat tilting a glass candle in his hand. “He single?”

Joel nods. “Is she?”

You nod.

“Alright. You wanna come sit with us?”

Your smirk answers his question. You take the beers, rings clinking off the glass. “Rum,” you call over your shoulder, wandering off, “I drink rum.”

Joel’s gaze lowers to the sway of your hips. “Rum it is,” he says, turning back to the bar.

“So…a cross-country bike trip, and you wound up in San Angelo?”

You’re on your fourth drink, the first one Joel hasn’t paid for – and he only allowed it because it’s a Diet Coke (and maybe you got to the bar first, held his wrists with one hand so he couldn’t stop you from slapping your own money down).

“Yep,” Joel replies, pinching the lime from his drink and dropping it onto a napkin. “Just passin’ through. Shower, sleep, then head on home.”

“Where’s that, then? Home?”

“Austin.”

“Austin,” you pout, “Nice.”

Joel smirks, licking citrus from his fingertips. “Is it?”

“I’ve never been to Austin,” Brooke chirps, fiddling with the umbrella in her piña colada. She twirls the paper canopy and glances up to Tommy.

He snaps out of his slack-jawed gaze when he realizes what she’s implying. “Oh – yeah, well…” his head wobbles as he stutters, “…you two ever come down that way, we’d be happy to, uh…show ya ‘round, huh, Joel?”

Joel doesn’t reply, staring back at his brother with the same amused expression you are.

You’ve been an inch apart all evening – doused in the dive bar darkness, the shrouded conversations and muffled TV static. The tip of your nose and curve of your shoulders lit only by the luminous signs dotting the walls.

Tommy and Brooke are already deep in conversation again about the best car Tommy ever owned. Joel watches as your eyes flit between the pair, entertained by the way they trip over each other’s sentences. Your cheeks lift when Brooke lays a hand over Tommy’s, and he squeezes her fingers back.

Where did you come from? Joel’s thinking. He takes a swig of his whiskey, feeling your eyes on him. As he lowers his glass, you lift yours. When he turns in his seat towards you, you’re already facing him, back against the wainscotting. He smiles, and so do you.

Every movement feels choreographed, some merry dance only you two know. You’re in your own little world.

Where did you come from, again, and where have you been my entire fucking life?

“So, what about you?” Joel asks instead, swallowing – all warm-bellied and brave. “You grow up here?”

You shake your head, taking another sip. “Nope. Just liked it enough to hang up my coat for a few months. I grew up in Phoenix.”

“You travel a lot?”

“I’ve been around. This is the longest I’ve stayed in one place since I was a kid.”

He thinks of home: of Austin and its silver-snake river, burnt-orange jerseys and the pleated bunting lining Sixth Street. He thinks of late nights on lawn chairs, nursing a beer and shooting the shit with his brother. Keeping their voices lower than the buzz of the cicadas, looking more at the dusky sky than at each other.

“You don’t ever get tired of it?” Joel asks. “Of moving around so much?”

You scoff, breath clouding the inside of your glass. “Three weeks on a motorcycle starting to get to you, huh?”

He breathes a laugh, loose again. The cicadas fade from his ears.

Your head tilts in a shrug. “I don’t know. I guess the universe keeps on surprising me.”

Joel doesn’t do this. At least, he hasn’t done this since he was a teenager – crate of beer under his arm and a chest full of courage. He’s long forgotten the feeling of heat blooming in his cheeks, the twitch of his heart anytime you look at him.

But fuck, if there isn’t something about you. Something in the way you move, the way you look at him. Something in the way you play with your straw, knocking ice cubes around and chewing on the plastic once you’ve drained the glass.

Something – though it’s a little too early and Joel’s a little too tipsy to tell just what. He tries to remember that he’s pragmatic. A grown-up. He chases away the monsters in his daughter’s –

“Oh, shit,” Joel says suddenly, scrambling to pull his cell from his pocket. It’s nine thirty. He was supposed to – “I forgot…”

A miserable tone from his Motorola cuts him short. The screen flashes an empty battery before fading to black. He jams a thumb into the keypad a couple more times, cursing at the winking symbol.

“Someone you gotta call?” you ask.

He meets your eye and winces. “Yeah, I’m…I said I’d call an hour ago.”

“You wanna use mine?” You twist around, fishing in your purse for your own. “We can go outside.”

“No, no, it’s…it’s alright, I’m sure she won’t mind, she –”

You shake your head. “Shut up. Come on, let’s go. I could use some fresh air, anyways. Be back in a minute,” you tell Brooke – who nods and turns straight back to Tommy.

Joel extends his hand to help you out of the booth, then follows you to the door. The cool air tugs every nerve in his body to attention, pin-sharp when he steps out of that lazy heat. Under the emerald glow of the Murphy’s sign, he settles his glass on a window ledge. “Next round’s on me, alright?”

You roll your eyes, pushing the phone against his chest. “Just call, Joel.”

One last apologetic glance, and then he’s dialing. He makes to wander along the curb, the tone already pulsing in his ear, when he notices –

“You ain’t brought a jacket?”

You’re sitting on the ledge, clutching your elbows. Swatting midges from the light you’re bathed in, charms on your bracelets jingling. “Hm?”

He tuts. “A jacket. Here.” He shrugs his own off, sitting it around your frame. It’s warm from the bar and from Joel’s body heat, and you sink into it – letting the dark leather drown you as you rummage through your purse again.

“Nice,” Joel’s eyes narrow, “Fresh air.”

You hum into your hands, flicking your lighter. The cigarette trembles when you murmur, “We all got our skeletons, I guess.”

He turns on his heel when a familiar voice picks up.

“Hey, hey, M–Yeah, sorry it’s late…Yeah, we got held up. My phone died, so I’m using…Is she still–? Can I–? Oh, Sarah. Hi, baby.”

His little girl begins chattering down the line immediately, telling Joel everything she’s been up to since they last spoke this morning.

“…and then, Emily thought I was one of the Armadillos – I don’t even know how, ‘cause they play in red, remember Dad? – but she did, and she slide tackled me so bad that Coach Thomson had to sub in Akari for me so I could ice my ankle. Grandma was kinda mad about it, but she took me to Burger King after to cheer me up, and…”

Joel wanders back and forth, smiling to himself and scuffing the heel of his boot along the concrete – barely able to squeeze more than two words between her chirping. It’s all, Yeah, baby? and Wow, sweetheart; all uhuhs and mhms until she finally quietens, excitement plateauing again.

“Alright, well. You know what time it is, right?”

“Yeah,” Sarah groans. She knows it all too well.

Bedtime.

“…But you didn’t call when you said you would, Daddy, and it’s Saturday, it’s –”

“I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry. Just…somethin’ came up. But I’ll see you tomorrow, right? We’ll be back before you know it.”

“Where’s Uncle Tommy? Can I talk to him?”

Joel turns to face the bar. “He, uh…I’m not with him right now, sweetheart. I’ll tell him you asked after him, though.”

Sarah concedes, and then begins asking questions Joel knows she’s only asking to stay on the line a little longer – to stay awake a little later. But still, he answers each one – humoring her and, at the same time, letting himself listen to her voice just a little more before he has to let her go.

He thinks of scooping her up in the morning; thinks of being slumped on the couch after dinner with her head on his stomach – fast asleep with whatever movie she chose droning on in the background.

Despite the thousands of miles and close to two weeks between them – she makes him feel closer to home. She always does.

When Sarah asks where he is, he glances your way. Clocks your flat expression, the half-burnt cigarette hanging from your fingers.

You flick ash to the ground. Eyes unreadable beneath low brows, a tiny crease between them that Joel’s only just seeing for the first time.

“Uh…” he clears his throat, “…just a little – a little north of you, baby. Home first thing, I promise.”

He tells her he loves her and she says it back, and he tells her to sleep well and she says that back, too. And then he’s hanging up – Alright, see you soon, bye, Sarah, bye-bye, byebyebye – and pressing his thumb into the red button.

He wanders back over to you – ears flat like a guilty dog, though he isn’t quite sure why. He mumbles a quiet thanks as he passes the phone back, then stuffs his hands in his pockets.

You lean back, ankles crossed, studying him. Swirling what’s left of the cigarette in your fingers – the smoke lifting like a winding snake to the dark sky. “So,” you pout, “What are you doing flirting with me, if you got a wife and kid back home?”

His jaw ticks, a hand coming up to scratch his beard. “I don’t have a wife,” he says.

You stare blankly, filter back against your lips. “Okay, then – a girlfriend. Does she know you’re out tonight with us?”

He shakes his head. “No wife, no girlfriend. I don’t have an anything.”

“But you have a kid.”

Joel nods once, tongue in his cheek. “Uhuh.”

And then the penny seems to drop. A small oh; your jaw slack and eyes wide. The cigarette smolders between your fingers. “Fuck,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“No, hey,” Joel steps closer, “You didn’t know. It’s alright.”

He straightens the jacket on your shoulders. When you finally look at each other again, you snort.

“Sorry,” you repeat, shaking your head. “Is she okay? Your daughter – is she…?”

“Sarah,” Joel says. “She’s…she’s fine. Thanks.”

You look down, stubbing your cigarette against the brick. Voice quiet, you ask, “Her mom’s not around anymore?”

Relief settles in his chest: you’re softening to him again.

Joel slots onto the ledge at your side. Shoulder to shoulder. He reaches behind and lifts his drink. “Not since she was a year old.”

Your mouth pulls in a wince. “Jesus. That’s rough.”

He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t have to – you’re not asking him to explain – and he doesn’t want to, either.

You’re not stupid – you’ve seen enough of the world to hear what he’s really saying. The darkest, dustiest corners of it – all the places no one ever wants to look.

You don’t seem disturbed, barely even moved by the reality that…well, shit happens. People leave, families break; a two-car driveway is suddenly taken up by just a pick-up truck and a little pink bike with tassels.

He figures you get it. You don’t need to know how can that be? – you just…know that it can.

“So, uh…” you look up at him again, “…my apartment is, like, five minutes away if you wanna…you know. You can charge your phone, can shower – if it’s bugging you that much.”

Joel’s eyebrows lift. “Oh, really?”

You simper, eyes thin. “Really.”

“Charge my phone ‘n shower?” He stands, palm flat against the wall above your head, and leans in. His face is inches from yours.

You look up, mirroring his expression. “Yes,” your voice curls in a half-truth, “What’s the big deal?”

“What a goddamn line,” Joel says, smirking. “How long you been sittin’ on that one for?”

His blood thrums faster, harder, louder in his veins when you stand up, hands on your hips.

“It’s not a line, I’m serious –”

“I didn’t take you as the type, baby, I really didn’t – but if that’s how you wanna play this, then –”

He feels you before he sees you moving, like he’s stood at that bar all over again. Your hands on his jaw, your chest pressed to his. Your lips – soft as satin, with a tinge of sweet rum and smoke – against his.

Joel barely misses a beat. He closes his eyes and lifts a hand to the back of your head, kissing you back. It’s dizzying, the taste and feel of you so close; the wet of your tongue on his. The little scratches of your nails in his beard, the moans caught in your throat.

Dizzying – and fucking perfect.

You break apart and lean in to each other, catching your breath. Joel’s hands slip beneath the heavy leather of his jacket onto your waist.

“Unless…” you whisper, pulling away from him, “…you don’t want to. In which case, I’ll just…” You twirl back towards the door, batting your eyelashes.

Joel smiles. He catches your wrist and reels you back into his body. “I want to,” he breathes, kissing you again. “I want to.”

“Let’s go.”

You make it to your apartment door, fumbling with your keys – and Joel’s hands are glued to your waist.

You miss the lock over and over as he kisses your neck, grazing the skin with his teeth. Anything to satiate the hunger quickly taking over, the tightening in his jeans.

He pulls you against his hips – rough denim grinding into the curve of your ass. He can smell your flowery perfume, a strange melding of peony and menthol sharp in his nostrils.

It’s the hungriest he’s ever felt, he thinks – a starved animal pinning his prey to her flecked apartment door. He pauses, bottom lip damp against your neck; breathing a liquor-laced laugh over your skin.

You jam the key into the lock. The door finally shunts open and you spill inside, dragging Joel with you.

Your place is dark. Angled strips of streetlight thrown high up the bare walls and across the ceiling, splintered by tilted shades. The spill of a blanket draped over an empty couch; a pair of sneakers left on the rug. Joel’s knees brush by a houseplant guarding the door – heavy leaves which pfft when they sway out of his way.

It’s half-decorated. Temporary. Caught somewhere between home and away. Little fragments pieced together into something the shape of home: a mosaic vase that scatters light across the surface of the coffee table; a beaded curtain pinned around the closet doorway.

Like you’re a little magpie, collecting trinkets of silver and gold until your nest feels like yours. Bags dropped long enough to keep a Monstera plant alive, not to put nails in the wall for the frames propped against the skirting board.

You shrug Joel’s jacket off, dropping it over the back of the couch. When you spin back around to him, he lifts your chin with two fingers and presses his lips to yours. You lead him down the hallway, tumbling into your room.

He follows you over to your bed, collapsing onto a tousled mess of sheets with his hips between yours. The hem of your dress rides up your thighs, bunching around your hips and revealing a flash of pink lace underneath.

The world around him seems to sober up for a second, sharpens into focus. It begins to seep in: the realization that he has you – some girl he met no more than two hours ago in a bar – pinned to your mattress. A slick gathering in your underwear and a weight building in his.

Right now, he should be sinking into squealing bedsprings in a Super 8. Bathing in the flicker of a television set twenty years too old. He should be showered and rested – ready to head home at sunrise, if not sooner.

But then something led him to you, and – well.

There’s no fucking helping him now, is there?

Joel’s fingers hook around your panties. He pulls down, leaving a trail of kisses along your bare leg, until that same pink lace is dripping from your ankle.

His eyes flash up to yours, love-drunk and sparkling. He pushes your knees apart, watching your velvet folds open for him, and – oh, he thinks, staring at the glistening arousal smeared around your cunt. Such a slick little mess for him already.

“Goddamn, darlin’,” he licks his lips, “She’s so pretty.”

You hum, hands lowering. Your fingers separate, spreading your pussy for him. Your middle finger swirls around your clit, dips along your seam. And the n, silky and shining, you lift your hand again and slip your fingers into your mouth.

“Tastes even better than she looks,” you murmur, dappling your fingertip along your bottom lip.

Joel growls. He pushes down on your thighs, ignoring your little yelp, and drags the tip of his tongue through your slit.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp, back arching. Your fingers knot in his hair, twisting and tightening. “Shitshitshit.”

“Mhm,” he hums against you, tongue pushing inside.

Fuck, you’re just so perfect: so soft and warm and fucking dripping for him. He laps at your sweet center, wet already spreading all over his mouth and beard.

A dampness blooms in his boxers. He’s throbbing, fucking aching the longer he goes untouched. He grinds against the mattress, denim rough against his solid erection.

He lifts his chin, panting – satisfied by the way you squirm under the weight of him. “You like that, huh?” he asks, a sodden kiss to your mound. “Fuckin’ love it.”

He spits a thick bead of saliva, watching it dribble down your folds to your ass. His tongue swipes it back up, circling your clit, all slippery and swollen.

“Fuck, Joel,” you moan, tugging on his hair. Your legs spasm, hips lifting.

He loves the sound of his name when you say it. Broken in two, a lilt to it as it rolls from your tongue and down his spine. Like it’s yours as much as it is his, now.

He sucks hard on your clit, his tongue flicking. And he can tell you’re close; can feel your hips starting to lose rhythm, see your back desperately arching higher and higher.

Joel groans, pushing up to hover over you. He cups between your legs, dabbing two thick fingers at your entrance, and pushes in.

Your pussy draws him in knuckle-deep. Your chest lifts, the loose neckline of your dress exposing more and more. You grab your breast, pinching your nipple – a roll of pebbled flesh between your fingertips.

He lowers his lips to your ear – watching as you toy with yourself. “Come on, baby,” he grits his teeth, “Give me one. Let me feel this pretty cunt.”

Your head rolls back into the pillow; a high sob as your orgasm crests. Clamping tight around him; a warm flood down his fingers.

Joel kisses you as you come. You look so pretty, he thinks, with ecstasy behind your eyes and his fingers between your legs.

Christ, he wants to be inside you so badly. Wants to feel your cunt do all this around his cock instead.

The blood rushes between his hips.

His fingers slip in and out, bringing you back around. Joel’s lips are on your neck, murmuring, “Good girl, that’s my girl,” as you resurface.

Your eyes open again – glossy, glazed with the aftershock of your high. “Fuck,” you breathe, playing with the hem of his shirt.

He pulls his fingers out and sucks them clean. Whips the tee over his head in one motion; another kiss tucked under your chin as you peel your dress from your body. He tosses it to the floor.

Still dazed, your body still trembling, you ask, “Do you have a condom?” All dreamy and distant, your hands trailing along his belt.

Joel pauses. Tilts his head, frowning. “I’m on a road trip with my brother, baby – the hell would I bring condoms for?”

You roll your eyes, sighing. It’s the cutest thing Joel thinks he’s ever seen. You thread the belt through the loops of his jeans. “In case you meet a really cool girl at a bar and wanna take her home, maybe?”

He lifts his eyebrows, impressed. He slips his salty tongue over yours again.

You moan at the taste. “It’s just I’m…I’m all out.”

His belt drops to the floor; buckle clinking against hardwood.

“Well, shit,” Joel whispers.

It’s not exactly a scenario he predicted, setting off from Austin. Meeting you wasn’t on the bucket list for the trip. It’s another three, four, probably five things to add to the list of shit he doesn’t do, shouldn’t do, wouldn’t fucking do if it hadn’t been for you.

No, Joel thinks, groaning as you palm the solid shape of him – he didn’t bring a goddamn condom. Jesus, the most he has in his pockets right now is fifteen bucks and a stick of gum.

You unzip his pants, shrugging the denim loose. “We can just do it…without,” you offer.

Joel stares down at you. “You sure?”

You nod, biting your lip. “Just pull out, right?”

“Just pull out…” he echoes. Your hands are cold on his heated skin, but he’s not about to fucking stop you.

You tug his underwear down with his jeans, following the darkening hair from his navel down. Another quiet pull out passes your lips – your voice dissolving when you spot the thick base of his dick.

Joel’s shaft springs free, heavy against the inside of his thigh.

“Holy shit.” You push yourself up on your elbows, eyes flooding black.

His tongue runs along the bottom of his teeth. He thrusts forward into your hand, a glassy drop of precome dribbling from his slit.

Your thumb swipes across his flushed tip, fingers wrapping around his width. You roll his balls in your other palm, massaging and squeezing just the right amount.

“Easy, easy,” Joel whispers. Too much, too soon. He can’t come yet, not until he feels your fluttering cunt around his cock.

Instead, you reach up – snaking an arm around his neck. You pull him back down, his naked body flush against yours, and hike a knee over his hip.

He grinds into you, his cock nudging between your legs. They fall apart for him – pliant and keen, like petals unfolding. He covers himself in your slick, his tip catching below your clit.

“Pl-ease,” you whine, scratching at his shoulders.

Joel nips at your damp neck. “Please, what?” he taunts.

Your breath is hot against his cheek – a stifling request which curls up in the shell of his ear. “F-fuck me.”

And his hips roll into yours.

“Jesus f…” your face buries into his chest, “…you’re…you’re so fucking big, Joel, I can’t –”

He nudges between your walls, groaning into your skin. You’re even tighter around his cock, even cozier. “I know,” he pants, “I know. Take it, baby, know you can take it.”

You stretch around him, opening up the deeper he pushes. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you pant, the thick hair at his base finally brushing against your clit. “Fuck, Joel.”

“Look at me,” he taps your jaw, “Hey. Look at me. Breathe.”

You exhale, hot and shaky across his lips.

“Good, that’s good.” Joel nods. He holds you by the waist, lets you adjust to his size.

He pulls back, your cunt clamping around him. Halfway out, and then in again. Feeling you open up, inch by inch, until he builds a steady rhythm.

“Jesus, baby, she’s so…” he moans, “…she’s so goddamn tight.”

You drape an arm over his shoulders, a hissing pain where your nails dig into his skin. Yelping each time he bottoms out, your leaking cunt wrapped snug around him. “So – goddamn – big,” you whine, a ruined smile on your lips.

He slams his body into yours again, watching the way your tits bounce. Nipples hard, skin tacky and shining with sweat. Your pussy pinches, and he starts to unravel.

Fuck the road trip, Joel thinks, fuck all of it. This is where he should be: in the middle of your bed, burrowed deep between your legs. This is the only place he wants to fucking be, right now.

So he fucks you harder; the headboard hammering against the wall. A fistful of the pillow, his knuckles whitening. He guides his cock when he slips out – a filthy sound as your clutch sucks him back in.

“Fuck,” he growls, gripping your hips so hard he worries he might bruise you. His thrusts become sloppy – quick and desperate.

“So close,” you gasp. You’re squeezing him so tight that he sees stars. “I’m gonna – I’m…”

Perfect, Joel thinks, watching you bloom. You’re so fucking perfect.

He coaxes you through it. Slows enough to feel you come around his cock, your warmth as it gushes all over him. “That’s it, baby, I got you. Shit, you’re gonna make me come.”

He pulls out just in time to coat your stomach; a throaty groan as he comes. He pumps his shaft, covering from your sternum to the plush of your tummy. It dribbles down your waist, spurts between your breasts.

He collapses over you, pressing his forehead to yours. His dick, soaked and softening, smears the ejaculate across your skin.

You giggle, leaving sticky kisses along his beard.

“You okay?” he asks, breathless.

You nod, and his tongue dabs at the inside of your lips. You taste like sex and sweat – sweet and salt.

Joel shifts to the edge of the bed. He feels you follow, your lips featherlight on the curve of his shoulder.

You make to stand – going to clean yourself up, he reckons, your tummy dripping with his semen – and he locks a hand around your bare thigh.

“Stay,” he says, voice low and rough – sex still smoldering. “Let me get you a towel.”

You smile, resting your chin on his shoulder. Your fingers link around the other side of his waist. “I’ll get it. Just relax.”

And for a minute or two, you stay like that. Hooked onto one another, tired eyes closing over, breathing in rhythm. Your cheek on his shoulder, your knee brushing against his tummy.

It’s simple; quiet and still. Joel feels like half a person – the other half tracing her chipped nails along his bare thigh. Eyelashes fluttering, teeth holding back a grin that she thinks might give her away.

Eventually, you move. Shimmy yourself down the mattress, swipe a crinkled tee from the ottoman – and slink off to the bathroom.

Joel lies back against the headboard, body sticky hot. He watches the shadow of your figure stretch across the open door. His eyes drift upwards to the looping ceiling fan – only half as dizzying as the sound of your humming in the next room.

And just when he starts to think he might be fucking missing you, you reappear in the doorway. Leant against the frame, some worn band tee hanging from your shoulders. Arms crossed; smiling back at him.

A rush of words floods to the tip of his tongue. You look beautiful. Your makeup’s smudged, chains of your necklace twisted; your shirt is frayed and splotched with faded stains – and you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

He holds his arms out and you prance over.

You crawl over his figure, kissing your way up to his lips, and then turn in his lap. Cradled against his broad chest, your head nuzzling into the dark threads of hair between his pecs. You clasp one of his hands in two of yours.

“Offer’s still there for a shower, if you want it,” you whisper, kissing the pads of his fingers.

Joel tilts his head, mumbling against your temple, “Will you be in there with me?”

You answer something shaped like a tease, just as sharp with wit – but he’s too busy watching your nails trace his open palm. Too distracted by the sweet scent of your skin: a fresh burst of fruit, singed with the edge of tobacco.

“What do you do for work?” you ask.

He makes some sort of sleepy sound – a grunt, a hm? into your skull. “Oh, uh – I’m a contractor,” he says.

Your chin lifts. “That why your palms are all…?” Your thumb strokes light as lace against his worn skin.

“Probably,” Joel admits. He draws shapes on your thigh with his free hand.

“Do you sand the wood with your bare hands, or somethin’?”

Joel scoffs. “Alright, alright. You liked my hands plenty, twenty minutes ago.”

Your cheeks lift, a low hum caught in your throat. You angle your head to let his lips trail along your shoulder, pressing into the hinge of your jaw. A dark nail following the landscape of Joel’s skin – each score and divot, the callused pads at the bottom of each finger.

“You have sorta…earth hands, I think.”

It sits in the air for a few seconds before Joel turns to you. “What?”

“Earth hands. Or, well – I guess they could be water, if you look at ‘em this way.” You open up his hand, fingers stretched. “I don’t really know. I’m still learning.”

He looks down at you. Feels the now-steady pulse of your heart on his sternum. “Learnin’…hands?”

You snort. “Palm reading, Joel.”

His brows draw tight. He licks the inside of his whiskey-stained cheek. “You’re into all that hippie sh…stuff?”

You knock your knuckles against his chest, still staring at his hands. The hills and their valleys, the ravine-like lines; the worn skin and hatch marks.

“Let’s see…Your heart line,” you whisper – more to yourself than Joel, but he’s listening all the same. “It’s pretty deep, which means the relationships you’ve had have been…important. But it’s kinda…it tails off right here, see? It’s broken. So…I guess they didn’t end too good.”

Joel raises an eyebrow – playful, encouraging your timid smile. Keep figuring me out, he thinks, stoking the curious flame behind your eyes. “Alright,” he says, “Now tell me something you didn’t already know about me.”

You gawk, holding his wrist up. “You don’t see that? The way it breaks up? I’m not bullshitting you, Joel, it’s –”

“Naw, I see it,” he nods, squinting a little at his palm, “Just – tell me more. What’s all these other lines mean?”

“Well,” you adjust between his hips, “you got your life line right here. Short, which means –”

“Don’t tell me that part.”

“No,” you roll your eyes, “It just means you’re independent. You never needed much from anyone. And it runs past this mount – these are called mounts – right here. Venus: all to do with love and sexuality.”

Joel holds your open palm next to his, comparing them. He takes less than a second’s look, lines his lips to your ear and says, “Seem like a pretty good match to me.”

You wriggle when he tickles your ribcage, trying to twist out of his grasp. You’re laughing again – the same laugh he’s been hearing all damn night. The same giggle that’s had his stomach somersaulting since he first heard it.

The room seems to light with it, this glow he feels from you – as if you’re the sun. Spent and still half-drunk; lazing with a stranger in the middle of her bed. Tracing the lines and scars on his palm, telling him how logical and grounded he’s supposed to be.

As if the world orbits around you – everything you touch turning to molten gold. And for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, Joel looks at you and wonders: Where the hell did you come from?

You hold your hand against his, folding your fingers perfectly together. The evidence of your night flaking from Joel’s knuckles; sweat still simmering on the nape of his neck.

He hasn’t done this for years. Hasn’t felt this gentle aftermath. It’s usually a rush, a hastened zip and clink of his pants. An awkward dance, plucking clothes from the bedroom floor and pacing back to his truck.

It’s never like this. Talking and laughing, holding and kissing. Questions about his parents and yours; his biggest dream as a kid, or the time you broke your arm falling out of a tree.

He tells you stories about growing up with Tommy; tells you Sarah’s favorite flavor of cake. He tells you about the time they tried to make it for a school bake sale, forgot to turn the oven off, and almost burned the damn kitchen down.

You snicker and tell him that never would’ve happened if you were there.

Yeah, well, Joel smiles, I wish you were.

He notices you’re drifting off, despite your slurred protests and your weak grip on his wrist. He pulls you under the covers, curving his body around yours, praying that the quickening drum of his heartbeat won’t wake you.

His nose nuzzles into the curve of your skull, his hands link in front of your tummy. And he wonders whether his body was made with yours in mind.

He glances out at the sky – light starting to bleed from the horizon – and wills the turn of the sun to slow. Only a little; just let him stay here a little while longer.

Just a little while.

Dawn forces her way in eventually – more unwelcome than ever before.

There’s a throb between his temples which swells to life when the light floods past his pupils. “Jesus Christ,” he grumbles, face turning back into the pillow. He gives you a gentle squeeze and then pushes up from the mattress.

You roll to the middle of the bed, still sound asleep. The sun spills golden all over the valleys and crests of your body. The bedsheets carve pathways up to your hips, dipping at your waist.

Last night, there was something so mystical about you – so otherworldly. Joel felt himself drawn towards you like a compass needle shooting north, the second he felt your weight crash against his spine.

A figure behind a cloud of smoke, like the mountaintops disappearing into a thick mist. And now, blood drained of alcohol, you’re just you.

Your shirt is twisted around your shoulders. Your lips puffy, mumbling to yourself in your doze. Makeup smudged like chalk under your eyes, and still – just as beautiful. Just as radiant as you were ten hours ago.

Joel rubs his eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed. He blinks down at his bare feet, the morning sharpening into focus. As he lifts his phone from the nightstand, the cable drops – hitting the wooden floor with a snap.

He pauses, shoulders hunched. Hears you stir over his shoulder, and turns around.

The earth of your body shifts beneath cotton hills, clouds of sleep clearing from behind your eyes. “Hey,” you whisper, voice pretty and broken.

A little bird in the palm of his hand – that magpie curled up in her nest of gems and trinkets.

“Hey.” He leans down and kisses your cheek. “Sorry, darlin’, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You wrap your arms around his wrist, tugging. “Are…are you…leaving?”

Joel feels a pang in his chest, and he doesn’t know why. He takes a deep breath. Your scent fills his lungs and steadies his heart. “I…” he sniffs, “…I gotta go home, baby.”

You give a slow and heavy nod. “S-Sarah…”

He strokes your head with his thumb. “Yeah. Shh, go back to sleep. It’s still early.”

He glances at his phone – it’s just after six. He knows Tommy will be waiting for him, parked outside the Super 8 and wondering where the hell Joel is. He knows Sarah will be, too – sat by the living room window, listening for the rumble of their bikes.

And still, he thinks – How do I fucking leave you? Leave this?

He shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought. He has a kid waiting for him back home; soccer practice, packed lunches, homework and bedtime stories. He has work to do, bills to pay, a roof to keep over their heads. It’s all waiting in Austin, two hundred miles away.

As though you can see the question flipping in his mind, you pull him closer. A weak finger in the palm of his hand, drawing circles. Your bleary gaze meets his, and you whisper, “In the next life.”

Joel smiles. Twelve hours ago, he’d have laughed at the idea of it. Now, he’s not so sure. He kisses your knuckles, muttering, “Promise.”

Another wave of sleep washes over you, and you’re gone again.

Joel pushes himself from the bed, reaching for his clothes. His back twinges as he stretches, pulling his T-shirt over his shoulders. He steps into his jeans; pinches his belt between two fingers and lifts it from the floor.

He leans over and tilts your shades the opposite way, dulling your bedroom. He unplugs the charger, neatly winds the cord, and sits it on your nightstand. He fixes his side of the sheets: folds them over the mattress, tucks them in at your back.

With a deep breath, he makes for the door.

His jaw turns, eyes still low. Your dress is in a heap at the foot of the bed; a tube of lip gloss lying next to it. He looks up, following the landscape of sheets – the slope from your ankle to your hip. Your hunched shoulders, your cheek smushed into the pillow.

If he looks too long, he’ll never leave.

The image burns golden into his eyes. He hopes for half a heartbeat that you’ll wake again and pull him back into bed. Kiss him all over, whisper something sharp and sweet in his ear. Touch him and graze him and wrap yourself around him – anchoring him right here and now.

But you don’t.

And Joel slips out of the room.

Jackson stirs to life over his shoulder.

A white lump in the snow-covered valley, the settlement seems so far away now. Tommy sets off up ahead, leading the way to the outpost. The blizzard is picking up – it almost swallows the silhouette of him whole.

Joel had tried to warn him: the weather would be too bad to see five feet in front of them, never mind any infected. But Tommy argued with the same determination that dragged the pair of them into that dive bar thirty years ago, and Joel didn’t have half the energy nor the will to argue back.

He’s thinking about you. He always is.

Your searing gaze over the rim of your glass; the weight of you against his chest. The tickling of your nail on his palm, severing each line and changing him forever. You and your palm lines.

You were just learning to read them. Joel didn’t know a thing about any of it, and he told you so. You took his hand in yours and said, Here. Let me see.

He runs a thumb down his fate line, swaying in time with his horse. And he shakes his head with a little smile – he still remembers which one is fate and which is heart.

He still remembers all of it. He has earth hands. All salt and soil and solid as stone. His earth hands have gotten him this far, right? Twenty-five years and he’s still here. Gray and grown; stiff joints and sewn-up scars.

His head line has channeled more strangers’ blood than Joel can count. Mounts that’ve stopped breath in the throat of any man who crossed him. He doesn’t think you’d recognize his hands anymore, if your fingertips traced over them again. Broken and bruised and bloody.

And he doesn’t think he’d want you to – doesn’t want you to meet the shadow of the man you knew back then. He’d prefer you remember that same brown-eyed, soft-touched stranger with enough charm and naivety to survive anything. No need for bone-breaking fists or bloodstained hands.

Where are you, he wonders?

The answer knots deep in his stomach: the same old rope twisting into the same old shape. A fist of anger, of guilt. Some terrible cocktail of both, spilling poison through his veins.

He’s terrified to wonder what might’ve happened if he had ever made it back there. What he might’ve found in your apartment – what he might not.

Where would you have gone, that day? Would you have fled, or would you have stayed?

You were smart, he knows that much. He saw the cogs of your mind turning right in front of him, standing opposite each other in that bar. Barely thirty seconds in and he could’ve sworn you had him all figured out.

But – oh, Jesus, you were kind. Open and willing to help a stranger with a dead phone and a tired smile. Would that kindness still glow as bright against the flicker of a world on fire?

A lone hawk swoops down before him, shooting straight between the pines. Joel slips his glove back over his freezing hand.

He thinks about you every day. Every fucking day, and it never eases. Never loosens. It keeps him up some nights – the truth he’s too afraid to look square in the face.

You live now in the back of his mind like a little ghost. His little ghost – still floating around that dusty city; the warm light of life and innocence still bright in your eyes.

Tommy glances over his shoulder. He gestures ahead as if to say, Would you take a look at this goddamn storm?

And Yeah, Joel thinks, I’m lookin’, brother.

All he wants is to go home. Jackson, Austin, the bedroom of your apartment in San Angelo. Just let me go back.

He blinks, and the snow melts to cracked asphalt under a lilac sunset. Tommy’s holding handlebars instead of reins. The horses’ hot puffs of breath darken to clouds of smoke, choking from the exhaust pipes of the Harleys.

You’re somewhere on the other side of town, waiting for him in the faint glow of a jukebox. Sipping what’s left of your rum and Coke, fishing a twenty from your purse for the next round.

Just let me go back home.

He tugs on his horse’s reins and pulls off after his brother.

[princessbrunette]

stepbro!johnb knew it was wrong. god, he knew it was demented, and sick — but he couldn’t stop. he was pent up.

things had been kind of a mess lately, and despite popular believe, no — finding and hunting treasure was not all sunshine and rainbows. it was a lot of dead ends, a lot of waste bins filled with screwed up paper covered in ideas and plots that were going nowhere. sometimes you had a piece of paper, a pen, a map and a dream — and that was it.

john b could have sworn he saw you scribbling away during a plotting session in this specific pink paperback journal. it looked like any other notebook you’d use to jot down everyone’s ideas. you weren’t too good at the whole treasure hunting thing yourself but you were eager and had the right spirit so the pogues could often rely on you to scribble down anything important they might say during these sessions in which they’d bounce off eachother. this was why john b picked the book up and opened it in the first place.

once he started reading, even past realising that this was infact your diary — he just couldn’t stop.

“oh, uh…” he coughs awkwardly to an empty house when he flips it open and finds his own name in pink glitter pen, hearts and swirls galore. you hadn’t exactly been subtle about your attractions towards your older step brother— never missing an opportunity to bat your lashes up at him, touch his chest whilst you’re talking to him, even find a way to sit on his leg when there was just no other room — but for the most part he assumed you were just teasing in your own cruel way. passing the time, so to speak. he wasn’t expecting this.

his eyes continue to flit from word to word, each more graphic than the last until he’s stumbling across full descriptions, day to day on what you’d do to him, moreso what you’d let him do to you.

‘john b was so frustrated today. he needs me, i know he does. he has that look in his eye! that super frustrated one that looks all tired and irritated and unlike himself. he’s usually so warm and comforting but today he looked like he was gonna snap. i thought he might finally march over and bend me over… a girl can dream i guess :( when i finallyyyyy got some alone time i spent it grinding against my pillow, wanting him to come in and catch me. i wonder if he heard the bed moving… if he hears me moaning… i don’t wanna be a virgin anymore, need john b to come and break me in :( ♡’

the more he reads, the harder he gets against his shorts— sighing out his nose, blinking in discomfort as he adjusts himself. he looks around, knowing you were at the beach with kiara but still feeling paranoid. it’s one thing to have such dirty thoughts about your step-brother, but atleast they were private. john b gets caught reading them? he’s the bad guy.

he tells himself it’s not you doing this to him. it was simply his anatomy betraying him. he couldn’t help how his body reacts.

he feels dirty when the tip of his cock grazes the pages, now sat on the edge of your bed like he could jump up at any minute given the sound of the front door closing. he’s turned the page, landing on a particular fantasy that had his hand moving and cock leaking before he could dare to question the morality of it all.

‘john b looked so good today :( i love when he bosses me around all big brother like ♡ he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, it’s like second nature for him to look after me. wanted to sit between his legs and make out with his dick :( i bet it’s so pretty and i know it’s big cos sometimes he doesn’t wear boxers under his pants and i see it swinging it around. wanna suckle on it whilst he tells me im a good girl like he did that one time when i was sad. his voice just gets me so wet, can’t stop humping everything n rubbing my clit whenever he leaves the room. i’m like an animal and im not even ashamed anymore. i need him :(’

the brunette groans as he squeezes his eyes shut, fisting and twisting the way he imagines your smaller hand to— inexperienced yet with a feverish hunger to please and a vast knowledge of sex which he could only imagine was learnt through word of mouth and porn. god, the thought of his sweet little step sister sprawled on her back, legs splayed open — pawing at her glossy cunt as she scrolls to find the perfect porn video. it was enough to send john b mad.

he wondered if you tried to find pornstars that looked like him, or if you just used your imagination for that part. john b liked to think himself a humble man, but in the throes of his passion he couldn’t help but accept the warm embrace of the ego trip the thought gave him.

“oh fuck, so wrong — so fucking wrong—” he strains, feeling that burning hot twisting in his stomach as that familiar feeling overcomes him. he clearly hadn’t thought this through, before when he opens his eyes once more — he’s covered your delicately decorated page containing your fantasies with his white hot sticky syrup. “ohhhh god. oh no.” he hums, eyes widening slightly.

yet there was no time to act— for as soon as he’d realised, he could hear the jangling of your keys and your familiar giggles as you lead your new-ish friend into the chateau, probably moments away from singing out his name, wondering if he’s home. he slams the book shut and he’s sure it oozes from the edges of the page— stuffs it back beneath the pile of clothes on your chair where he found it and makes quick work of tucking his deflating cock back into his pants.

john b fears he might be in big trouble.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Give Into The Temptation

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Norris!Reader

warnings: ‼️‼️⚠️⚠️SPOILERS FOR TWISTED HATE BY ANA HUANG ‼️‼️⚠️⚠️, cursing, SMUT

Thank you to @forevercaffeinated-lee for this idea! I hope it meets your expectations <3!

Slight enemies to lovers

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When I first met Oscar I thought he was cute and he is but my god was he so full of himself.  

Now don’t get me wrong, I love a man who’s confident and knows what he wants but Oscar was not that.

Oscar was cocky, full of himself and sometimes downright disrespectful. I usually let it slide because I didn’t see him often so I didn’t have to deal with it, emphasis on the word usually.

-

I’ve been on the road with Lando so far this whole 2024 season because he had asked me to tag along, he something about missing his twin sister or some bullshit like that, in reality everyone knew that I was here because he liked the way I made his meal preps and not the person that’s currently doing it now.

This is the week of the Monaco Grand Prix and Lando has been out all day with his trainer all day doing whatever the trainer made him do all the while I’m stuck at the condo alone.

I was chilling out on a pineapple floaty in the pool when I heard the front door open. I'd decided that I wanted to play a prank on Lando so I snuck out of the pool and quickly dried myself off before quietly sneaking into the condo. I'd heard rustling coming from the bathroom and that gave me the perfect chance to scare him. I waited against the wall for about 45 seconds before I heard the door open, I waited for a second until I saw a taller figure step out the bathroom and with a big leap I screamed 'Boo' at the man in front of me.

However, I didn't get as much joy from scaring Lando as I thought I would and that was only because I didn't scare Lando. I scared Oscar.

"Ah! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Oscar screamed as I still stood in front of him, placing his hand on his chest as if to slow down his heartbeat.

"What are you doing here?!" I screamed back in total shock and anger that he was here. I mean how did he even get the key? Only Lando and I had a key?

"I'm staying here this race weekend dipshit. You know this." His attitude evident, as always.

"Obviously not, seeing as I'm JUST NOW FINDING THIS OUT!" I shout. I'm so frustrated, I wanted to have a nice weekend to support my brother and hopefully only see Oscar when needed, but turns out I'm gonna be spending the WHOLE weekend with him.

"That's it, I'm going back out by the pool." I scoffed while I dragged my feet dramatically out to the backyard.

-

Back out by the pool, I was laying on one of the lawn chairs and I decided that I was going to try and finish the book I was currently reading 'Twisted Hate' by one of my favorite authors Ana Huang.

While I was reading, I was so deep in thought that I hadn't heard the patio door open and Oscar come out. At least not until I heard a big splash in the water and felt drops of it land on my legs.

"You muppet! I'm reading here!" I shouted as I took the towel I brought out to dry my not-so-wet legs. Oscar looked displeased with me as when I looked up I saw him rolling his eyes at me.

I continued reading in peace and quiet for about another 15 minutes before my timer went off indicating that I should go apply more sunscreen before I get too burned. I let out a annoyed groan because my book was just getting good so I quickly got up and went into the air conditioned condo to the living room to grab the spray on sunscreen, applying it before walking back outside.

Opening the back door, I was quickly met with a sight of Oscar with a towel around his waist and my book in his hand.

"Oscar, put my book down now!" my face just as red as a tomato at the thought of Oscar reading the previous page of the two characters fucking. Part of me didn't want him to know what I read on my free time but part of me wanted him to have read it so that he learns not to pick up and read random books.

"Twisted Hate? I think I've heard of this book." if my face was red before, it must've been a shade of hell right now. How did he know about this book? Maybe someone said it was a good series? Did he know about the pure sex written in it? So many questions flooded my head but before I could question what he meant by what he said he continued talking

(THIS NEXT PART CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK SO PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING UNTIL YOU SEE THE BOLD WORDS! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!)

"Yeah, Jules ends up telling Josh that she was the one that took the painting. Josh was mad at her at first but then they had make-up sex. Turns out he didn't forgive her and 'broke up' with her mid orgasm and kicked her out." My face fell in shock. There's no way this bitch just fucking spoiled this book for me. No, he's making shit up. There's no way he'd know what was going on in the book, someone could've told him about the 'break in'. Oscar loves to get under my skin and this would be a good way he could do it.

A scoff left my lips as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Yeah fucking right. That's a good one Piastri, and to think I almost believed you. Wow, this is a new low for you." I laughed as I snatched my book from his grasp and gathered my stuff. I was going to finish my book in the comfort of my well air conditioned room until my brother comes back and we go out to eat.

(OKAY NO SPOILERS AFTER THIS PART)

-

It had been about 30 minutes since my last interaction with Oscar and I was sitting against the headboard of the bed under the covers reading. I was having a good time in the quiet of the room while reading until I got to a part that eerily started to sound like what Oscar told me was going to happen between Jules and Josh.

I kept reading because I didn't want to believe that Piastri was THAT disrespectful to actually spoil my book for me. Sure enough that Aussie dipshit did in fact spoil my book for me. With an angry grunt I peeled myself away from the book and left my room. I was going to find Oscar and kill him.

I searched the house with so much anger in me I felt like I was going to explode. I finally spotted Oscar still out by the pool except this time instead of being in the water, he was sun bathing. Lord knows he needs it because of how pale he was.

Swinging the patio door open I started yelling " OSCAR JACK PIASTRI!" The volume of my voice and the slam of the door startled Oscar and he quickly locked his phone before chucking it on the lawn chair next to his. "YOU ARE SUCH A FUCKING BASTARD!" A slight smirk plastered on his face as he saw how mad I was.

"Finally get to the part I spoiled for you?" he looked so cocky right now and all I wanted to do was to punch him right in his sexy face. No, stop Y/N don't think like that.

"You're a cunt Oscar. I want to never see you again!" I stomped my foot. I looked like an angry toddler when they wouldn't get their way.

"Oh that's cute. We're rooming in the same house this weekend and in case you forgot, your brother and I are on the same team so that's not happening." I watched as a small laugh left his incredibly sexy and slightly plump lips.

As much as I wanted to be mad at Oscar I couldn't help but want to swoon for him right now. He'd gotten out of the pool not that long ago because his body wasn't wet anymore but his swim trunks and hair were still damp. That nasty smirk still plastered on his sexy face, his damp curls laying in every direction, his perfectly toned chest on display, the damp swimming trunks sticking to his hard cock. Wait, is he hard? Was he watching porn before I came out??

"As much as I'm flattered that you're checking me out, my eyes are up here princess." Oscar called as he snapped his fingers at me before pointing to his eyes when I finally looked up.

Did I just get caught checking out the man I hated the most while I'm trying to be angry and yell at him?

"As if. I- I would never check you out. You- You're the last guy I would want to find attractive." I swallowed the lump in my throat as I watched Oscar slowly start to walk in my direction stopping right in front of me. He was so close I could feel his breath on my face, none of us moved and I don't think either of us wanted to. Oscar raised his hands to rest on both sides of my face, leaning in but stopping right before our lips met.

"Really? So why aren't you backing away from my touch?" He was so close to me and all I wanted to do was have the most rough and dirty sex with him right now. "You hate me right? You know they say there's a blurred line between Love and Hate."

"I" need you "I would never love you" I'm trying so hard not to give into the temptation of falling for Oscar but it's so hard. Oscar might be harder but I don't want to be the first to give in. I left heavy calloused hand on my waist and gave it a small squeeze which caused a pathetic small moan to escape my lips.

"That moan that left your mouth just now says otherwise," Oscar and I made eye contact just before he turned his head to whisper in my ear "just say the word and I'll fuck you 7 ways to Sunday before your brother gets back" His hand slowly sliding down my front before they got to my bathing suit bottoms, stopping right above the elastic.

A whimper left my lips before I could stop it. "Is this fine?" Oscar said as he grabbed my chin to look up and face him, a small nod of approval was what I gave him but that wasn't enough "No princess, I need words. Is this okay with you?" Even when we're so deep in this intimate moment he's getting on my nerves.

"Yes," I said breathlessly as I placed my hand on his and guided him underneath the fabric of my bikini bottoms "I need this, I need you so fucking bad." I whispered as I had leaned into the crook of him neck to leave small and delicate kisses.

A heard a groan leave Oscar's lips as I started to suck the skin of his neck to litter his gorgeous skin with hickies.

"Mmmm, fuck. I need you right now." Oscar moaned right before he smashed his lips to mine. The kiss didn't last too long before Oscar picked me up and threw me over his shoulder and started to make his way to my room and slamming the door once we were in. Oscar placed a hard and firm slap to my ass before tossing me on the bed.

"You're so sexy, did you know that?" Oscar started talking while slowly crawling towards me leaving kisses in his wake, started by my feet "I've always dreamed of fucking you since I met you" left a kiss just below my knee "I've jerked off to the thought of me fucking you in my drivers room, making you scream my name so loud they can hear you in the grandstands" kissed my clothed pussy, causing me to jerk my body up "and the thought of filling you so full you're carrying child." kissed my stomach "I've thought about taking you at so many events." kissed my breasts "I thought about us getting caught while I'm fucking your mouth." kissed the under side of my jaw before looking in my eyes "I thought about us getting married and just fucking like rabbits everywhere I can take you" He kissed my lips before biting my bottom lip

"Do it." I said breathless as Oscar leaned down to kiss my cleavage, the second those words left my mouth I felt him freeze.

"Which part?" He searched my face for an answer

"All of it." In 0.2 seconds flat his lips were on mine in a hungry kiss before he licked my bottom lip for entrance which I happily granted him access to. Our tongues fought for dominance but his ultimately won, as we made out I felt an ache in my core that I needed to get rid of. I bucked my hips up to rub against his hard cock, it didn't last long though as one of Oscar's hands pressed firmly on my low stomach pressing my lower half into the mattress.

"Impatient are we?" A small moan left my lips "Don't worry baby, I'm gonna take good care of you" Oscar took the hand that he had pressed against my stomach and moved it to take off his swim trunks before moving that same hand to undo the knots on the strings on the sides of my bathing suit bottoms. Undoing two double knotted knots with one hand was supposed to be hard but Oscar made it seem easy, and hot. Super super hot. Oscar peeled the bottoms off of me and chucked it to God knows where in the room.

Oscar grabbed his cock and fisted it a few times before lining his tip to my entrance before looking in my eyes once again asking for permission

"Oscar, please fuck me. I can't wait anymore" I whimpered. At this point I don't care how pathetic I sounded, I had a hot man in front of me about to fuck me and I needed him.

That was all the confirmation he needed before he slid his cock so deep in my cunt I felt like I could feel him in my throat. He was big and thick, not too big but my god was he thick. My walls stretched in a delicious pain as I adjusted to his size. A quick tap to Oscar's bicep told him all he needed to know before he pulled out and slowly slid back in. He kept going at a slower pace before I spoke up.

"Oscar," I moaned

"Yeah baby, what do you need?" He leaned in to kiss my collarbone

"I need you to fuck me faster" without a second thought Oscar pulled out and slammed into my pussy, easing the aching throb thats been there for a minute.

My walls stretched with each hard and rough thrust of his cock and I enjoyed every minute of it. Oscar had one hand on my hip and used it to guide my hips up to meet his every thrust. Oscar kept fucking me raw and rough for about another 2 minutes before he abruptly pulled out.

A disappointed groan left my lips at the feeling of being empty but that didn't last long because Oscar ended up flipping me around and forcing me on all fours. I turned half my body to face him and I watched he stood on his knees and aligned himself with my entrance again and grabbed my hips and thrusted his cock in me.

A loud moan left my lips as I felt so full of him again. Oscar set a blistering pace as he rocked his hips in and out of my dripping pussy. Oscar slowly withdrew his cock from my pussy before slowly pushing his girthy cock back in making sure he'd bottom out. Even though Oscar was bottomed out he kept pushing himself deeper in me which caused me to reach behind me to attempt to grab ahold of his thighs in hopes to pull him closer to me to make him go impossibly deeper in my cunt.

Oscar finally started his thrusts up again and was fucking me so hard I'm pretty sure the bed was moving. Each thrust sent my body jerking forward and I felt like I was on fire. I could feel a familiar tightness in my tummy as Oscar keeps his merciless pace going.

"Gonna cum for me sweet girl?" Oscar's hand brushed up my back and rested on my shoulder.

"Mmhmm" was all I could muster, Oscar was fucking me so good I couldn't form coherent sentences. I felt Oscar pull out of me before quickly flipping me untilI I was on my back and he thrusted right back into be with so much force.

"I wanna see your pretty face when I make you cum. M'gonna ruin you for any other man." I can't focus, I'm so close to cumming and I need this release.

"I don't want any other man" I murmured "Oscar, I'm so close. Choke me"

I didn't have to ask twice and the second his calloused hand gripped the flesh of my throat and gave it a gentle and slight squeeze my walls clenched around his cock and my body shook as my orgasm washed over me. Oscar kept fucking me through my high as he chased his own orgasm. I could tell Oscar was close just by the way his hips stuttered against me. I was going to tell Oscar to pull out and to cum on my stomach but before I could say anything he spoke up

"Can I please fuck your mouth and cum in it? Please I need to cum so bad" Oscar whimpered

"Please" was all I said before I watched him pull out and quickly made his way up to my face before he shoved his cock in my mouth and started to roughly fuck it.

He didn't last that long and after a few thrust he shoved his cock to the back of my throat and used my used his hand he had placed behind head to shove my face closer to his body until my nose was touching his skin as he spilled his cum down my throat.

Oscar pulled out of my mouth and watched me as I swallowed all his cum. He placed a kiss to my lips before having to pull away due to my phone ringing.

I picked up my phone and looked at the caller ID "Oh shit, it's Lando" I pressed the answer icon and placing it on speaker "This better be good, I'm reading" I said into the phone

"I'm gonna be back at the condo in 20 so get ready for dinner and while you're at it wake up Oscar, I called him 4 times but he isn't answering. He's a heavy sleeper." I had to refrain a chuckle from leaving my lips

"Okay, I'm gonna wake him and then take a shower. Bye, I love you too." I hung up before turning back to Oscar

"Yeah, I forgot I threw my phone on the other lawn chair." he said as he rubbed the back of his neck "And no I wasn't watching porn, I was watching videos of you being interviewed at movie premieres. I can't help it, you're just so hot." Oscar mumbled as he leaned in to kiss my lips again.

"We have to get dressed Oscar" I mumbled against his lips as I pulled away "I smell like sex and I want to wash my hair so I gotta go now." I got up from my bed and was about to walk towards my bathroom before I felt a firm slap on my ass causing me to jerk forward with a yelp

"I'm gonna fuck you so good when we get back, I hope you know that"

-

I MISSED YOU GUYS (I just posted two days ago) I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!!

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[arpicityandneed]

Give it Up Pt. 1

18+ Dark Content. f!reader. step brother!Bucky. college student reader.

~

Dear Diary, Is it bad that I had that dream again? Fuck its been going on for years but it still makes me wake up wet and aching to be ruined. Its always the same. He sneaks into my room to find me touching myself (I'm always touching myself before bed every night lets be real) and just locks the door before coming over to move my hand away. "No touching my pussy without permission, sis. Do I make myself fucking clear?" "Yes." Every time he teases me, circling my clit light enough that I can't cum. "Yes, what?" No matter how guilty it makes me it also makes me want to cum so hard. "I won't touch your pussy big brother."

"Bucky!! Mom said she found more gift wrap, you can leave it." Bucky nearly jumps out of his skin, tearing his gaze away from the raunchy words in your neat handwriting. You'd filled page after page and the diary was nearly full. You liked free use, roleplay where he blackmailed you into being his slut, humiliation play, anal.. the more he flipped through the pages the harder he got.

"Bucky!! Did you hear me?" You called again, sounding so sweet and innocent like you usually do. Except now he knew the truth.

Innocent my ass.

"Yeah sis, I heard ya!" He called back tucking the book back into its hiding place behind the towels in the hallway closet.

When he came back into the living room you were on your knees, arranging the presents under the tree and looking every inch like the casual college student. But now that he knew what was really going on in that head of yours? He couldn't stop looking for outward signs of your perversion.

"Something on my face?" You asked when you noticed your brother staring at you with a weird intensity.

All Bucky could think about was painting your face with his cum in response. He had to shake himself before he could smile somewhat normally.

"Nothing. So about the tree.."

~

He never caught you writing in the diary, but new pages kept showing up every few days when he checked the closet. So he started to plan. Because there was no way he was going to be able to rest, your words had invaded his dreams.

Every spare moment was spent jacking his cock until he blew his load all over his fist, thinking of you and your filthy fucking fantasies. You'd written that you were technically still a virgin since you didn't think all your toys counted. The thought of you fucking your own ass with a fake cock usually is what got Bucky off more often than not. It agonized him wondering which hole to fuck first. Because he knew your pussy would be heaven too. Had to be attached to such a wicked girl.

If he was going to be tormented by this then you were too.

It started small, little touches that you wouldn't bat an eye over. Hands on your hips to help you reach the top of the tree, tucking a curl behind your ear, a kiss to the top of the head.

But then he ramped it up, a hand a little too high on your thigh until you were squirming and making excuses to move. A slap to your ass with a joking grin and a distracting question to leave you flustered and flushed. Lingering a second too long after kissing your cheek before pulling away and acting like nothing happened.

It was slight, but he could see it now. The faraway look in your eye and the way your thighs clenched together every time. You were lost in your own head thinking something depraved and god he needed his hands on you for real.

~

Christmas Eve was the last straw. You had a party to go to, something with some asshole called Walker who Bucky didn't know but didn't like on principle. But when he saw how you were dressed? A deep green excuse of a dress wrapped around your body like it was molded to your curves, and stopped mid thigh. Your tits were nearly spilling out before you quickly covered up with a jacket when your mom came closer.

"I'll drive you." Bucky said close enough in earshot of your parents that your mom agreed instantly, just like he'd wanted.

"But mom, its a date, why would you do that to me?" You whined. But your mother just smiled brightly at you.

"Keep complaining I'll have him pick you up too." You groaned and glared at Bucky playfully, mumbling as you walked outside. "Lets go then."

~

Bucky's car smelt like him, and the leather seats seemed to hug you back. It was always too intimate for you and you hated that he was clearly enjoying himself.

"You didn't have to say it so damned loud. You know how she gets." You complained as he blasted the heat before starting to drive, just snorting at you.

"Who knows if this guy is even worthy of you sis? It's my job to protect that pretty little pussy of yours." He spoke casually, but the way his eyes cut to yours was boldly intentional before he turned his attention back to the road was hard to misunderstand. This was him making a move.

"Bucky! What- you can't just-" You spluttered completely caught off guard.

"Can't just what? Talk about your pussy? You talk about my dick enough in that black book you keep in the closet." And just like that you were throbbing between your legs from being caught, the embarrassment making your clit throb along to your heartbeat. All the previous teasing touches flooded your brain, and you groaned as you hung your head in embarrassment. Had you really not noticed the way he'd been hunting you?

"We're gonna make a quick stop before your party sis. Gotta give your gift." His words were a purr, and you would later deny you ever whimpered from his voice alone.

"You better not give it up to any guy but me unless I say its alright, you got that? Can't just have you spreading your legs for anyone I don't approve of. You're my little sister and its my job to protect you" He continued to give you the big brother lecture, twisted as it was. And as much as you hated it, since you knew the bastard was doing it on purpose just to highlight how taboo it was for you to want him, your mind was running wild and you were drenching your panties.

You should've been ashamed of yourself, but all you wanted was for him to pull over and fuck you over the hood of his car.

~

Steve's studio apartment was practically Bucky's as well and you knew this, but still the fact that your brother had a key turning the lock without even having to stop kissing you made you realize how often he was over here.

"So this is how you dress when you're not doing the innocent college sweetheart routine." He groaned as he palmed your ass cheek through your dress, his erection pressing into your hip with no remorse. "Might have to fight Walker if he sees you in it though."

"Don't care about him," you gasped as he kissed down your throat and sucked a hickey into your skin. Every touch of his made your desire burn brighter, driving you insane like his fingers had on the drive over tracing the slit of your pussy over and over without touching your clit.

"No, you're saving yourself f'me right?" He unzipped your dress slowly, like he was unwrapping a present. Your matching black bra and panties looked sinful on you.

"Bucky," you mumbled shyly as you tried to cover yourself.

"Don't hide from me. If we're gonna do this sis, you play by my rules." His voice was rough and husky but completely serious as he watched you. And your clit throbbed from his words, your hands falling to your sides as you let him look.

"Good girl." The praise made you wanna preen under his attention. "Now take it off. All of it."

You unhooked your bra easily, watching how Bucky's eyes were locked on your tits as soon as they were free. He twirled his finger when you reached for the band of your panties so you turned and let him see exactly how much he affected you as you bent over.

The weight of his gaze threatened to break you before he even laid on a hand on you. You heard his foot steps circling you as you straightened up, trembling with anticipation. Wondering where he would touch you first.

His arm snaked around your waist before pulling you closer, his mouth sucking hot kisses up your neck.

"B-Bucky," You moaned brokenly in his arms, clinging to him like you'd always wanted to.

"You have no idea what your little book did to my brain baby. Can't stop thinking about all the ways I can ruin you, especially now that I know how much you'll like it." Bucky started walking you to the bed, never letting you out of his arms as he bite and licked and marked your throat.

Then you were airborn with a squeak bouncing on Steve's bed as a tiny box bounced with you. It was wrapped with a bow and had your name on it. "Is this?"

"Open it." Bucky started to tug off his clothes, and you were torn between finally getting to see his cock and the present in your hands. But curiousity got the best of you and you opened it, the mistletoe with a tiny bell attached jingling as you lifted it out of the box.

"You hold onto that. Drop it or shake it if you need me to stop, or something happens that you don't like." Understanding dawned on you, even as it made you clench your thighs together. "Unless you drop it, I'm not stopping. Even if you beg for a break, or make me work for it. I'll fuck what's mine."

"Bucky.." Your voice was barely above a whisper, taking in everything he'd said as finally, he unbuckled the belt of his jeans.

You closed your fist around the mistletoe tightly.

"Knew you'd like that, perv."

a/n: This is getting way too long so I'm going to save the smut for pt 2. please comment and reblog!

[countryclubkook]

I’m Your Step Brother

Pairing: stepbro!Rafe x reader

Warnings: smut, this is a lot darker than anything i’ve ever written so if this isn’t your style do not read, dark dom rafe, rafe is an unhinged dick, dub con, rafe is high, reader is implied to be a bit tipsy but not drunk, face slapping, choking, mentions of drugs and alcohol, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), name calling (bitch, slut, whore, cunt, worthless, pathetic), blackmail, reader is a cam girl, masturbation (f receiving), hair pulling, please let me know if i missed any!

Summary: When your step brother lets you stay with him for college for free after your mom and step father kick you out, you’re extremely grateful. But when he finds out about your little side job, he decides you have to start repaying him in a different way

A/N: I know this isn’t Rafe, but this is how I picture my stepbro!Rafe and he’s hot in this so it works. Rafe is 21, reader is 20

It all happened so fast. One minute Rafe was offering you drinks, a ‘special occasion’ he said. Then the next you were stumbling into bed and his hand was wrapped around your throat. He told you how he graciously allowed you to live with him while you finished college when your mom and Ward kicked you out of Tanneyhill. Let you use his wifi, his running water, eat his food, and that you were repaying him for his generosity by whoring yourself out online for cash. His dilated pupils and the white residue on his nose let you know he was high, and he was even more unhinged when he was.

Your whines of protest for him to let go were shut down, the grip on your throat only tightening the more you struggled.

“Keep struggling and my hand will grip this pretty little throat tighter and tighter until you go blue in the face bitch. I’ve seen you wrap your hand around your throat in your little videos, drop the innocence act. It’s fucking boring” he told you, his voice eerily calm at the threat.

You felt your face heat up at the confession that he’d seen your videos. As in plural, more than one video of you fucking yourself in various ways with various items. He snapped you out of your thoughts with a harsh slap to your cheek, the other one receiving the same treatment before he grabbed your face roughly and forced you to look at him.

“Ohh, I know what it is, your messy cunt is usually on full display when you choke yourself. Go ahead and take your shorts off, give your big brother his own private show” you were told only once to do so and when you didn’t immediately follow orders, he slapped you once again with much more force and pulled them off himself. Once they were discarded somewhere in the room, he let out a low whistle when he noticed you had no panties on.

“Damn. I knew you were a dirty slut, but at least pretend that you have some decency left. Or did you want this? Wanted your big brother to come in here and fuck you, I mean with the skanky outfits you wear around the house all the time I wouldn’t be surprised. You’re so fucked up sis” the tears you had been trying to hold back finally started streaming down your face, the small sniffles catching Rafe’s attention.

“God you’re such a pathetic bitch. Crying from my words even though I’ve seen the same things said to you over and over again on your page and your response is always so positive, so eager to be used. ‘Thank you daddy, I'm such a pathetic and needy whore for you. Use my body however you want’ don’t act like you don’t want it now. Your pussy is leaking all over the bed as we speak” his eyes glued to the wet spot you’d made

You let out a loud sob while trying to close your legs, but they were harshly pushed apart again by Rafe. His fingertips digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, his eyes staring at your pussy.

“Please, just leave” he didn’t. He stayed right where he was, if anything he got closer.

“Nah, see you’re sitting here crying and begging me to leave, but the way you’re fucking soaking the sheets right now and the amount of times your eyes have glanced at my cock makes it hard to believe you don’t want me here. Now take those pretty hands and start rubbing your needy clit for me” a few seconds went by and your hands remained still by your sides.

“Now! God you’re such a dumb cunt. Bet if I pulled out a few singles and threw them at you, you’d be bringing yourself to an orgasm right about now” his hand grabbed yours and brought it against your clit, watching as you slowly started circling it with your fingers.

You let out a small whimper, this was so fucking wrong but god it felt so good. Trying your best to go slow in hopes of making him satisfied enough to leave was a lot easier said than done, his lustful gaze burning holes into you wasn’t helping at all. Neither were his abs being on full display or the very obvious outline of his large cock in his sweatpants. ‘He’s your step brother’ you reminded yourself over and over again, but here you were rubbing your clit in front of him.

“Stick two fingers inside yourself and start pounding that pretty pussy, I know you’re wet enough” his statement brought a new wave of shame over you. You shouldn’t want to be doing this, shouldn’t be enjoying it at all which only caused more tears to fall down your face.

“You know” he took in a deep breath, agitation all over his face “i’m getting really fucking sick of this crying bullshit. I’ll do it myself”

He collected some of the wetness before sliding his middle and ring fingers inside your dripping hole, curling them up and hitting the perfect spot inside you. You threw your head back onto the pillow and tried to hide your loud moans so he didn’t hear, but of course he heard.

“I’m your step brother you twisted slut, why are you so wet right now huh?” he slapped your cheek when he got no response again and raised his voice “Huh? Answer me you fucking whore!”

You tried to stammer out an answer, but no words came out. Just broken whimpers and moans as his fingers picked up their tempo. Suddenly he stopped, pulling his hand away and walking so he was beside your head. He pulled his sweatpants off, his cock springing out, and placed it on your lips.

“Suck” your eyes went wide as you shook your head no.

His jaw clenched before a dark smirk appeared, his fingers sliding back into you and pounding your tight hole harshly. Your mouth opened wide due to the loud moan you let out which caused Rafe to take advantage and slide his cock all the way down your throat. A low groan escaping his lips at the way you gagged around him and clenched around his fingers. Your hips started bucking into his hand, your moans sending vibrations around his cock as you got closer to coming.

“Your step brother is fucking your face! Did you hear me? Your step brother is fucking your face and the only thing your slutty little bitch brain can think about is coming. Fucking pathetic” Rafe spoke as he harshly grabbed your hair and held you against him, his cock all the way in the back of your throat as you gagged and tried gasping for air.

“I know you want it, can fucking feel you squeezing my fingers so damn tight. make a mess on your big brother's fingers. Go on. Do it do it do it. Fucking whore!” your eyes rolled back into your head as your body convulsed, your orgasm completely taking over. You could feel the liquid gushing all over the place and knew you had just made a giant mess, and only because it was Rafe.

He pulled his cock out of your mouth when you finally came down from your high and stroked himself until thick ropes of cum coated your face. It was a filthy sight, you had drool running down your chin, mascara smudged, cum dripping down your face, and your hair was a mess. That’s when Rafe decided to grab your phone and take a photo. You looked up at him confused and slightly alarmed as to why the hell he just did that.

“Oh, don’t worry,” his hand moved to stroke your hair before gripping it harshly and pulling you up so his lips were right by your ear.

“I’m just letting all those sick fucks know that my baby sister isn’t available to whore around anymore, I own you and your pussy now. You are nothing without me bitch” but you knew there was another reason.

Blackmail.

He had you right where he wanted you, he was holding something over you that could ruin your life for good. Get you kicked out of college and become an outcast in OBX. All you had to do in order for none of that to happen was exactly what he said, when he said it, no matter what it was.

That included taking his cock in the back of your throat like the good little two-bit whore you are.

You were tossed back onto the bed and watched Rafe pull his sweats back on before walking to your bedroom door to leave. He turned around to look at you once more and left you with a few parting words.

“You should probably shower, make yourself look presentable again. I’ll let you know when dinners done you worthless slut.” he stepped out before turning around again.

“Oh! Just remember what I said you know, about owning your holes and what not. You really are nothing if you don’t have me, so don’t be a bitch about this or tell anyone yeah?” he winked at you and walked to the kitchen to begin dinner, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Your brain going back and forth between knowing it was wrong, Rafe was literally your step brother, and wondering what the fuck just happened and why you shamefully wanted it to happen again?

[ma1dita]

do we have any sick!trouble and luke taking care of everything for her??(including her hehe🤭) if not then i’d like to think she would probably try to push herself through the day making sure camp doesn’t get set on fire bc older sister core! + dionysus probably dgaf 🤷🏻‍♀️ and maybe only luke noticing that she’s breaking out in a cold sweat and her movements a little more sluggish than usual but shes stubborn af so she refuses to rest

🐥

also ur works are crushing me jo they’re soo good😭💗

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x dionysus!reader

a/n: no trouble tags fuck it we ball! no edits either lmfao fluff :) can be a standalone just know reader is camp mom and Luke calls her trouble/slight cabin 12 mentions but not important (partners in crime series if you wanna check it out)

wc: 860

Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen you be quiet.

Your voice is synonymous with the harmony of Camp Half-Blood in all of its forms: early morning announcements over the loudspeaker that serve as a wake-up call for campers to be ready for cabin inspections, hollow outcries to keep certain deviants in line (the Stolls and your brothers are a deadly force to be reckoned with), comforting words like kisses for scraped knees for the little ones, down to the gentle blanket of your singing at lights out. Luke also just knows by now that you love to have the last word—gods forbid someone else beat you at something you’re good at. Words always come easy when it comes to you (abilities of sons of Hermes aside) he finds out—but he can’t think of what can convince you to go back to bed today, especially with a temperature of 100.7 F.

He’s been circling you like a hawk this whole morning, not chastising (because clogged sinuses and all you’d probably fight him to your last breath), but rather helping out where he can. He swiftly double-checks counselor assignments once your puffy eyes leave the page, steers you away from walking straight into the fires of the forge instead of the exit at the armory, and waves off any bystanders who dare to get caught in the crosshairs of your bullheadedness.

In times like these, Luke’s almost grateful to be his father’s son (still a hard no, but you get the point). Doing these tasks undetected and mostly through a sleight of hand is better than worrying you even if he’s already at his wit's end; you’re quick in your own right too, body and brain separated today yet working on autopilot through a foggy sick-riddled mind. He hates leaving you like this even for a moment despite your protests of being able to handle yourself, but the two of you are spread thin today with all the work to do.

Luke finds you later after his workshop with your head against the cool stone of the climbing wall. You sniff into your sleeve, a wet sound stifled by the worn-down orange uniform you all wear, though yours looks as exhausted as you are, eyes closed and motionless even with lava slowly trickling from the top.

“Trouble? Are you okay babe? Grover fell off the wall already, you should… restart the mechanism,” he mutters, a big hand clasping at the nape of your neck like someone grabbing a kitten by its scruff.

“He’ll be fine, he’s a big boy,” you mumble with your face still attached to the rocks. “I’ve seen him climb over the Ares table for the last donut at lunchtime, molten lava and boulders should be a piece of cake.”

“At least cake is less painful and more delicious,” the satyr groans, hairs singed down to his hooves. Luke sighs, helping Grover back onto his feet for a well-deserved break.

“Babe…If you don’t move, sooner or later the lava’s gonna smother you.”

He shakes your arm since the controls are wedged between your body and the wall but it’s as if your body is bolted to the floor. A dissonant noise crawls out of your throat, “Dunno, kinda sounds nice. Maybe it’ll clear my sinuses.”

“Maybe it’s time to admit you’re sick.”

Even if he can’t see your face he knows there’s a scowl carved across it, “M’not sick. Just some allergies. I don’t get sick, Lu. Being sick is for the weak!” Lava continues to slide down the wall like molasses, inching you closer to a fate of fire— and your boyfriend watches you try to welcome it with weary arms.

“If you’re not sick, then I’m the best singer at Camp Half-Blood,” Luke drones as he crosses his arms. He can hear Percy laugh from the sidelines at that, silenced quickly by a glare.

“Now that would really clear her sinuses—even better if he dresses up for Theatrics again,” the son of Poseidon sniggers until a stray boulder comes barrelling towards where he and Grover are sitting. Everything’s suddenly less funny.

“It was one time, Jackson, and I wasn’t…” Luke sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Trouble was just mending a costume.”

“It’s okay Luke, not everyone can pull off a corset.”

“Grover, another word out of you man and I’ll make sure your legs are permanently hairless,” Luke grits, finally tired of the chit-chat and more focused on getting you to rest. In one quick movement, he sweeps you off your feet and over his shoulder while his other hand slams on the button to reset the gears of the climbing wall. A delayed reaction falters from your throat, something of a yelp and an exhale.

“Luke! Put me down!”

But he’s already off in the direction of Cabin 12 to get you settled under the covers for at least the rest of the day until you’re up and kicking again. Your protests are scratchy but loud as he takes you away from the two kids and it's as if everything is right in the world again.

“Remind me not to get a girlfriend that stubborn one day,” Percy mumbles, bumping shoulders with his best friend.

[ssweetleaf]

just like heaven.

| part ii |

pairing— best friend’s brother!steve harrington x fem!reader

♡ summary— steve overhears about your disappointing sex life, but soon starts to imagine how good he could make you feel if only you were with him. (based off this ask)

♡ includes— SMUT 18+, male masturbation, kind of perv!steve, praise, breeding kink, basically stevie fucks his fist thinking about you and gets caught in the act, no specific pronouns used, and no use of y/n, i know some people don’t like that, (i gave steve’s sister a name to make the whole thing a bit easier!)

let me know if you’d like a part two! <3

˖ ࣪⭑

Steve was insatiable; hard as a fucking rock ever since he heard you, on your best friend’s bed, fingers flipping through a cosmo mag and smacking on your cherry gum, completely unaware that King Steve himself was eavesdropping on your rather private conversation.

He didn’t mean to listen in, honest, he was just on his way to the bathroom that just so happened to be next to his sister’s room, the door cracked open ever so slightly, just enough so he could see you on your stomach, ankles crossed and swinging behind you.

“It’s just so disappointing, yknow?” You huffed, eyes narrowing when it caught sight of a certain article on page seventeen about spicing things up in the bedroom. “It’s basically non-existent!”

Tiffany sighed, and his brows started to furrow, trying to get a clue on what they were talking about— slowly creeping closer to their door.

“Babe, it can’t be that bad. What happened to that guy that took you out?” She hummed, trying to think of his name, yet seeming to fall short, the boy completely blanked from her mind.

You groaned, pressing your cheek against your folded arms— and if he craned his neck just a little, he’d be able to see the way your puffy folds sucked up the material of your sleep shorts, riding higher and higher up your thighs each time you kicked your legs.

Oh fuck, he was totally perving…

“Don’t even bother— he was so- so-” you grumbled, huffing at the thought of him before finding the right term to describe that son of a bitch. “Self-absorbed.”

Steve arched a brow, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue, the sight before him, all cutesy and whiny, it was enough to have his cock rutting up.

“Come on, babe. Spill the beans, I wanna know what happened.”

You sighed, fighting the urge to hide your face in your hands, before flipping the magazine shut.

“He was just selfish, Tiff- he wanted me to do all the work, didn’t even get me ready just kissed me a little.” You scoffed, recounting the memories and his stupid smirk, “and worst of all, he’s a head pusher- way too forceful, shoved it right down my throat without any warning!”

“Oh my god,” Tiff rolled her eyes, nostrils flaring and she didn’t even know the guy. “What a dick!”

“I know,” you spoke, picking at the remnants of your chipped nail polish, “this is why my sex life is so disappointing.”

˖ ࣪⭑

Steve gnawed at his cheek, traipsing back into his bedroom and kicking the door shut, not even bothering to use the bathroom after— not that he really needed to anyway…

Laying back on his bed, the cool sheets squished beneath him, he thought about you— your pretty thighs and the way they squeezed together mindlessly, the soft fat of your hips from underneath your shorts and the curve of your tits that begged to pop out from your too-small tank top.

You were a total babe, so fucking pretty, and so sweet too, he couldn’t wrap his head around how someone like you had a sex life that was so boring.

I could change that, he thought, fuck, his cock throbbed at the thought. He could take care of you, make you feel better than any of those losers you had been with, sating you on his big cock until you were all dumb and tuckered out.

The thoughts he had were swirling around his brain in a constant tizzy, so much so, he hadn’t even realised he had slipped a hand under his briefs, only realising once it started to leak in his palm, pre-cum staining the material and sticking to his skin.

You were on his mind, your tits, your ass, your pretty thighs- it had him hard as a rock, starting to buck into his own hand, teeth clutching at his lips to stifle his groans— after all, the walls were thin, and there was only one that separated Steve’s room from his sister’s.

He wanted to tease himself, pretend it was you that was teasing him with your pretty fingers— trailing his fingertips along his shaft, running up along the thick vein underneath it before swiping a thumb over his mushroomed tip, all swollen and sensitive, leaking even more now he had his hands on himself.

He sucked that same thumb into his mouth, the salty tang of his arousal on his tongue and the sudden image of his face between your thighs, licking up at your slick pussy and suckling at your peaked clit had his hips bucking.

“Fuck—” he gasped, breath hitching in his throat, sweat already ebbing at his hairline and beginning to slip, cheeks all rosey and flushed, all from the thought of you, you, you.

“Drive me fuckin’ crazy, honey-” he was muttering to himself, squeezing his eyes closed and rolling his balls in his palm, playing with him just how he imagined you’d play with them. “wish you were all mine.”

Steve’s fist was tight around his cock, fingers squeezing and pumping it. Up and down, up and down— groaning out into the stuffy air when he thought about your hands stroking at him, fingers barely managing to reach round.

He was leaking, tip bubblegum pink and glistening with pearly beads of pre-cum, dribbling down his shaft and oozing between his fingers, lubing up his cock so nicely— fuck, he thought about your mouth, suckling on him, getting him nice and wet, drooling all over his balls, making a real mess— oh fuckfuckfuck.

“Jus’ wanna fuck you,” he muttered into the air, wishing you could hear him, watch him, “could treat you so well- would spoil you so good.”

He was whining, high and breathy into the stuffy bedroom air, the slick sounds with each jerk were so loud, but he was so pussy-drunk, dumb from the constant swirly thoughts of you, big love hearts pumping in his eyes, he couldn’t find it in him to really care about how loud he was starting to get.

He started to slow down, he had to, already so close to coming, he took his fist away and swirled his fingertips along his cock-head, watching the way his muscles clenched with hooded and hazy eyes.

Steve thought about you on his bed, underneath him, letting him fuck you into the mattress, muttering pretty praises into your sweet skin— licking and sucking at your neck all the while his fat cock punched into your gummy walls and nudged at that special spot so deep inside.

“Bet you’d be such a good girl.” he sighed, starting to stroke himself once again, but much slower than before. “jus’ wanna- fuck— wanna fill you up with my cum, get you all messy and- shit— give you my fuckin’ babies.”

Oh fuck, picturing you all pregnant, tummy all swollen, letting him fuck you from behind while you both lay on your sides, oh god, he was in too deep, but he couldn’t help it. You’d look so fucking pretty all pregnant with his babies— all full of his cum.

His hips stuttered, thighs tensed and his cock twitched, he was so close, so, so close, bottom lip clutched between his teeth, fist squeezing down and shaking from the stimulation.

“G-gonna cum, oh Christ, gonna fucking’ cum!”

He chased his high, jaw slack and mouth agape while long, hot ropes of his sticky cum painted his stomach and thighs, crying out a mixture of your name and a few curses and he swore he hadn’t came as hard before as he did then.

And it all would’ve been fine— he would’ve settled and cleaned up and just went to bed with a little secret in the back of his mind, though the sight of you stood there when his eyes fluttered open— eyes all glassy and lips in a pout, thighs clenching and a cute little wet spot saturating your shorts… oh no.

“I-I can explain!”

⋆˙⟡♡ inbox me eddie and steve stuff ! ♡⟡˙ ⋆

[mysterycitrus]

the way you write the relationships the batfam have with each other is so delicious to me like AUGHH YOUR BRAIN!!! it’s so good. if you were willing, i'd love to hear more of your thoughts on the relationship cass and jason have / steph and jason (staring at you with my big wet eyes)

i havent read much from any of the characters and have seen large parts of fandom say that they would all get along/they’d be so close/besties, so the ideas i’ve read in your works (wolf king and persephone) are very interesting!!

to put it bluntly — i think they’d fucking hate him.

part of that is, weirdly, people tend to devalue tim’s relationships with steph and cass. like, steph and tim have never been normal about each other. cass and tim spent most of the nineties and early aughts jumping back and forth to each other’s comics. in what world would either of them be chill with the guy who hurt him (and damian) like that?

it also flattens cass’s ideology and steph’s history with bruce’s mission. cass has struggled with engaging with murderers because she’s sees them as herself, and their actions as her own actions. she is reflected in each of them, but she ultimately values life above all else which is why her personal connection to the bat is so interesting. she would not have sympathy or time for jason todd, someone who uses bruce’s mission to hurt others, to take lives, and attack the people she loves. like…. please be serious. she would not be hanging out w the person who was happy when bludhaven got nuked.

same deal with steph— something that really annoys me is when people act as though the “bad robin club” would be a bonding moment between steph and jason. not just because steph has a more developed comic run than jason has, with legitimate obstacles to her getting recognised as a hero, but also because again, this guy is doing the same shit as her dad. why would she like him after he went after tim multiple times? whenever someone draws this comparison i think of this page —

the fact that steph values bruce’s mission, his views on taking a life, despite being at such a profound low point is really important. i can’t believe she’d look at jason and think him admirable.

however!!!! that doesn’t mean their interactions (when reasonably in character imo) can’t be interesting!! having cass and jason interact in persephone was a lot of fun, because making him interact with someone other than bruce or dick puts him off balance. peoples fear of complex relationships with legitimate stakes makes me sad. neither cass or steph have that history with him before death, or that same image of him as a memorial, and it’s a fun thing to explore. specifically this passage from wolf-king —

like yeah!! neither of them would fuck with him!!! let him be the unpopular brother!!

[probablyintensemuses]

Hey Brother, pt 2

summary: in the present, you and Armando have an even rockier start.

authors note: read part 1 if you haven’t already. This one is mostly in Armando’s POV which I think is extraordinarily important.

Read Part 1 Here

Armando let the water run over him, each splash hitting a wound, causing him to wince.

The fight with McGrath’s people had been tougher on his body than he thought, and truthfully, on that tiny boat floating adrift, he didn’t think he’d make it here alive.

Luckily he had, trailing blood up the stairs and into your apartment as he waited for you to come home.

Mike had instructed him to come here and stay until things died down, until there could be some type of resolution for him, one that wouldn’t require more jail time.

He had said you would be fine with it, that you wouldn’t hesitate to help.

Armando wasn’t worried about that, he could see it in the way you’d placed a blanket over him, tucking him in, and stitching him together.

What he was worried about, truly, was facing you.

Yes, big bad assassin Armando was afraid to face his baby sister.

He couldn’t pin point why, exactly.

Maybe it was a mixture of fear, anger…guilt.

Guilt that you, his own little sister, almost died because of him all those nights ago.

Fear that you’d always be afraid of him and what he could do to you.

Anger that he even had to got through any of this shit at all.

Armando’s ran a wet hand through his sleek black hair, dragging water through his strands.

His fist shook and he wanted so desperately to punch something, but this wasn’t his place and he didn’t want to make things worse than what they already were.

So he took a deep breath, counted to ten, and then turned the shower off.

He climbed out of the shower, wrapping himself in the towel you had given him, walked out of the bathroom, droplets of water still coating him.

He tried to be as quiet as possible when closing the bathroom door as not to disturb you.

From the hallway he could see you sat on the couch, a bowl of cereal to your right, textbooks and pencils to your left.

You were studying with soft music trilling in the background, your glasses hung low on the bridge of your nose and your curly hair sprawled out.

Armando felt frozen in time as he observed you.

He hadn’t the slightest clue who your mother was or what she looked like, or the story between her and your father.

But from what he could see, you did look somewhat like Mike. Your brown eyes, thick, dark hair, warm brown skin and rotund face.

The only thing missing was his height, really.

Armando continued to watch as you turned a page in your text book, “you know staring isn’t polite, right?” You said, not looking up from your studies.

Armando coughed, adjusting himself. “I wasn’t staring.” He lied.

“Okay.” You roll your eyes. “Sure.”

“Why would I be staring at you?’ Armando trudged on.

You raised a brow, snatching off your glasses. “I don’t know, you tell me? Perhaps you’re planning to drug me again.”

Armando huffed. “Trust me, princesa, if I wanted to do anything to you, I’d have done it already.”

You look up at him, your eyes widening and your mouth opening and closing like a fish. “That’s not comforting…at all.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Armando reassured again, a pang tugging in his chest.

You didn’t trust…and some part of him felt the same about you. What was to stop you from calling the cops on him right now? Especially since Mike dumped him on you without so much as an explanation.

But in another breath it somehow hurt that you didn’t trust him. Wasn’t that part of being an older brother, trusting that he’d never hurt you?

“Why, because we’re family?” You question.

Armando frowned at that word, his nose scrunching. “No,’ his next words were slow to come out. “Because you’re not worth it.”

You scoff, gathering your things. “Wow.”

Armando watches you gather all your study materials in a haste, not sparing him anything more than a cold shoulder.

“Have whatever you’d like,’ you brush past him. “Because you're right, I'm not worth it, to anyone.” You slam your bedroom door in his face, leaving Armando with his thoughts.

Armando threw his head back with a sigh before gathering the clothes you had laid out for him and slipping them on.

Of course they hardly fit.

But that was the least of his worries right now.

The FBI was undoubtedly after him, he had wounds all over his body, he was shaking with his long-lost little sister who hates him, and he hasn’t the slightest clue when he’d be free from all this.

All the lies.

All the trauma.

All the pain.

It be a miracle if he could shake it all.

You force captures his attention, washing over his thoughts and beckoning him towards your door.

Armando leans against the wood, getting a better shot of your conversation.

“Dad?” You whisper.

“Babygirl, are you okay?” Mike asks.

“Am I okay?’ You scoff. “No I’m not okay! You completely violated my privacy by sending him here, not to mention I had his literal blood on his hands and I’m complicit in a fucking crime!”

“Hey! Watch your mouth.” Mike said, sternly.

“Really, my language is your biggest concern right now? Not the fact that you are the one who’s being disrespectful by going behind my back and brining him here!”

Armando winced at the conviction in your voice, you really didn’t like him. And if he was honest, you had no reason too.

Mike was silent for a beat before he responded. “You’re right.” He sighed. “I was just trying to do right by him. Do you know how it feels, having missed out on nearly thirty years of his life, knowing he was lied to and mislead?”

“No, I don’t. But I know how it feels to be thrust into an impossible situation just to make everyone else feel better.’ You sniffled. “I mean dad, I get that he’s your son…but I’m your daughter, and you could have at least taken into consideration how much this sucks for me too! Or even the fact that I’m fucking terrified of him!”

Mike sighs. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“If you know, why couldn’t he have stayed with you and Christine?”

“It would have to much of a risk for us.”

Armando jumps at the sound of something crashing behind the door. “What about me! Do you even care about how I fucking feel!”

“I do baby girl!”

“No you don’t, ever since you found out he was your son, you’ve been obsessed with redeeming him because of your own fucking guilt. So much to the point where you’ve put me in the backseat!”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes it is,’ you growl. “It was him, then Christine, Callie and Judie, and I just fall wherever else. If you feel all this guilt for all these people, you should have at least saved some for me.”

“Why would I save guilt for you, huh?” Mike said, clearly getting angry now.

“You know what,’ you took a deep breath. “I really hope your find a home for your murderous, bastard son soon, because I’m done being the pile you load all your shit on.”

“Don’t—,”

The line when dead before Mike could let out another word.

Armando swallows the last of your words a sharper knife than any he'd ever been stabbed with.

And maybe it wasn't exactly your words that hurt but the fact that you hadn't been lying.

Mike had been obbssesed non-stop with finding the good in all the bad things he'd done, like finding a shining diamond in a dirty, muddied pond; a miracle and an impossibilty.

Instead, he should have been focused on mending the fallout his actions left the both of you, in particular you.

Armando almost felt bad for you.

No, he did feel bad for you.

You were only seventeen when he kidnapped you, he and his mother threatening your life several times, only for you to find out it was all over a lie.

One big, fat fucking lie.

And instead of your father being there for you, shielding you from your greatest trauma, he exploited it by bringing Armando here.

It hit him then, maybe it wasn't hurt he felt when it came to you...maybe it was empathy.

He knew exactly how you felt.

Being exploited by a parent sucked, let alone two.

Armando wasn't sure what came over him, but he found himself knocking on your bedroom door.

It took a few minutes, but eventually you opened up the door.

Your brown eyes were swollen with tears and your bed was a clear mess of fustration and anger.

"I'm not apologizing for anything I said."

"I'm not asking you to."

"What do you want?"

"To apologize.' He swallowed.

You let out a low, sad chuckle. "For what?"

"I don't really know yet, maybe because I know no one's said it to you yet." He admits. "And if anything, you and I both deserve it."

Armando watches you straighten. "And why's that?"

"Because our parents suck."

You shrug. "That's true."

"So, I'm sorry."

"For our parents sucking?"

"Yes...no, I don't know. Look, I just don't want us to hate each other."

"I don't hate you." You say, using your feet to play with the hem of your pants.

"It sounded like you did back there." Armando nods to your cellphone.

"I was upset....I didn't think you'd hear all that."

"You were pretty loud."

"Well it is my house, and you did break in...so."

Armando sighs, "Touché."

"So now what?" You say.

"What?"

"You just say sorry and then what? Do we act like some happy family or do we skate around each other?"

"Up to you."

You sigh, playing with your nailbeds.

"Do you like ramen?" You eventually ask.

Armando shurgs. "I've had worse."

You leave your room. "I'll take that as a yes."

It wasn't much, but at least you were sitting across from him, enjoying a bowl of spicy ramen instead cowering away in fear.

For a moment, Amrando could actually enjoy some peace, a little calm before the storm.

He never imagined it be with the sister he never knew he had.

Life is really...something.

[chibipeachu]

Beauty & The Shadow Man | Aleksander M.

A/n: Happy holidays! I've been working on this for a bit now, so i do hope you all enjoy reading as much as i've loved writing this!! Please send feedback! Wc: 9.6k (semi proofread) Warnings: Blood, cursing Pairings: aleksander morozova x fem!reader

“Once upon a time, there was a rich merchant, a brave and kind man, who after losing his beloved wife, lived on for the good of his six children.” The storyteller flipped the page. “Three boys, three girls, who filled the house with laughter and chatter.” 

Giggles coming from four children, laid across from the maiden. “Sounds a lot like you four!” She joked before going back to the page.

“The man had a fleet of three ships, the siren, triton, and the largest, leviathan.” The children scoot upwards to look at the drawings of the boats. 

“They were stuffed with the finest wares in the land, from jewels, to fabrics and mead. One evening while on their way back to port, a violent storm had appeared. Lighting tore their sails, snapped their masts, the bottom of the ocean sparkled with the jewels and golds that were swallowed up forever.” The children frowned.

“Gone within the month, the merchant and his children were forced to leave their home.” She flipped the page once again.

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

You rolled your eyes as you listened to your siblings complain about moving to the countryside and having to give up their best valuables. 

Your shoes quietly clacked on the wood as you made your way towards the statue of your mother, your father had made after her death. You sighed as you knelt down and placed flowers in front of the statue. 

“There mother, we have to start a new life...” You sighed as you stared at the statue. “There you are y/n.” You turned to face your father who smiled sadly at you and the statue. “Would she have liked the countryside?” You asked, hugging your father as you both admired her one last time. “She would’ve loved it..” He kissed the top of your head. 

“Then, I'm sure I'll love it too!” You smiled as he guided you both towards the carriages filled with the belongings you were able to keep. 

It was hard to get used to the countryside for a few weeks before you fell into a routine. You tied an apron around your waist before walking up the stairs to your older sister’s bedroom and began knocking. “Get up you two, it’s your turn to help in the garden!” You kept knocking.

“Marie has fallen ill, we’ll take our breakfast in bed..” Anne, the oldest, said, opening the door, her skin dewy with sweat. “Absolutely not, you two are going to help in the garden!” You scoffed and marched in.

Marie laughed and fanned herself. “I’d rather die..” You rolled your eyes and dragged her upwards into a sitting motion. 

“Too bad, I'll come back if you both aren’t down in two minutes.” You threatened, walking into the garden, you walked over to the laundry line and hung the wet clothing. 

“Defeated, pierced by arrows, the young man left the battle, taking refuge in the forest.” You glanced up and smiled as your brother, Thomas, sat in the empty carriage seat, writing a story in his notebook.  

“How’s it going?” You motioned for his notebook, he sighs and tosses it to the side. “Horrible, too realistic.” He scoffed, making you smile as he walked over and helped pin the clothes to the line.

You both turned as your father cheered from his horse, riding up to the cottage with a wide smile. You both walked over towards him.

“Gather everyone, I have some news!” He cheered. 

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

“They were happy to see me at the shipping offices, Dumont was charming, his eldest daughter married a count!” He updated, looking at his two oldest daughters.

“It could’ve been me!” Marie sighed. “But the big news is, the mermaid, which was your mother’s favorite ship, has been found!” You looked shocked at his new, leaning forward to hear properly. 

“She was drifting off the coast, and brought back into port.” Your father announced, 

“And the goods onboard?” Your brother questioned, “Intact!” Your siblings cheered, knowing they could return to their typical uppity lives.

“Children, I think we’re saved!” he chuckled as they cheered, not noticing your somber attitude. “Lets go pack our bags! No, we could burn them out here!” Anne clapped, happily.

“I feel tingling, I'm alive again father!” Marie ran over and kissed your father’s cheek.

“We can’t go back into town in this statute, you need to visit the shops, we need to make a list!” Anne squealed as she and Marie ran for parchment. 

“You can come to town with me, show off my successor to dumont!” Your father told Henry, the oldest. 

“I won’t let you down!” They both smiled. “At last, the young man's enemies were defeated, the young man returned triumphant, cheered on by his people!” Your family all smiled at thomas’ ending.

You quickly walked outside to tend to the garden while your sister’s wrote down a list.

Your father noticed as you walked away. He quickly followed and sighed as he watched you quietly pick the vegetables. “What’s the matter with you, are you sulking?” He asked, watching as you dug up a pumpkin. You stood up and faced your father.

“Clearly, if a girl is sad, she sulks, if a girl is happy, she’s mad!” You ranted to your father, placing the pumpkin in his arms and you collected the fruits. 

“Well what do you want us to believe, everyone but you is happy.” He sets down the pumpkin before squatting down next to you.

“I’d like to stay here longer. I like the countryside; it’s peaceful, no judgment.” You sighed. 

“We came to this house to bury our sorrows, our lives aren’t meant to be here..” 

“We both know what will happen, Henry will go back to the thugs he calls his friends, Marie and Anne will go out every evening to find husbands and you’ll be tied to your work again..” You sighed, standing up.

“Y/n, one of these days we’ll go our separate ways, even you will grow up and want to move away.” Your father explained.

Before anymore could be said, your sisters interrupted with the paper.

“Don’t forget a thing, Marie can’t bare it!” Anne sighed, swatting flies away. Your father nods before turning to you. “And what do you want?” He questioned, you sighed and glanced over the garden before deciding. “A rose, I can’t seem to grow any here, no matter how hard I try too!” He nods at your request.

“Very well, I shall return with the items.” Your father walked towards his horse where Henry stood, waiting for him.

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

“The men arrived at the port to find problems with their wealth; the father has signed the riches over to pay off the family’s debt.” The children gasped.

“Oh no!” The little girl sighed.

“The father had stopped his son from lashing out on the innocent dumont, the eldest stormed off in a fit of rage, leaving the father to follow after him; while searching the father had stumbled into one of the past suitors who pinned after the youngest hand in marriage.”

“Orion Kingsley, highly respected for his time in the war, though now he was considered amongst the town's thugs.” The children’s interest peaked as the illustration showed the man. 

“Is he gonna take his daughter away?” The youngest gasped at the thought. “Well, we’re still in the beginning so who knows.” The storyteller shrugged.

“He questioned the father about his youngest and offered to take her off his hands for a hefty amount but the father refused and continued to try and find his son.”

“After hours of searching, the father left defeated. He let his horse trot to the cottage while he had dozed off for a bit; Somehow while he slept the horse had taken a wrong turn and the pair ended up in front of an abandoned palace.” The storyteller laughed as the children tucked themselves under their blankets tighter.

“The doors eerily opened up by themselves. The father walked in cautiously, he made his way to a dining hall, on the table laid a lavish dinner of all sorts of food, the candles lit up showing the table covered in goods, the man quickly dug in, starved from the ride.” 

“Once the man had finished his dinner, he noticed a corner of the room had lit up, it was a huge chest, he opened and to his surprise it had all the things he needed from the list, minus the rose. The father took the items and made his way out of the palace but stopped as he spotted roses leading to a garden, he quickly walked over and plucked one from the ground, and BOOM!” The storyteller slammed the book, scaring the children.

“A giant soldier jumped in front of the man, the father scrambled, as he went to run away he bumped into a dark figure that towered over him.”

“He yelled at man for being selfish, for the man's punishment he was to return before morning and stay there till his death; A life for a rose..”

The kids gasped.

“If you do not return to me by sunrise, I will go after your family, one by one and I will save your youngest for last, since she is most dear to you! The beast threatened the man..” The storyteller showed the drawings of the man cowering under the beast.

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

“A story of a beast and a rose? It doesn’t make sense.” Thomas questioned. “How do you explain that? It’s real isn’t it!” Your father motioned over to the chest with everything.

“It’s all our fault! It’s all our fault-!” Marie repeated, Anne smacked her arm. “We’re not the ones who asked for a rose.” Anne motioned towards your frozen state, beside your father.

“It’s no one's fault!” Henry argued back. “Enough! I have no idea who that beast is but I know I must return to the palace in a few hours..”  Your father sighed, staring at the rose on the table. 

“What will he do to you?” The youngest son, Flynn asked. “I have no idea, he said a life for a rose..” You didn’t need to look up to feel your siblings stare, silently blaming you.

“And if you don’t return?” You questioned. “It’s over for all of us…” You all stared at the rose on the table, not knowing what to do next.

The next day had arrived, all of your siblings stayed up to see your father off for the last time, you sulked in your room.

A knock brought you out of your thoughts, in walked your father. “Y/n..” He started, “I know what they all are thinking..” You stared out your small window. 

“What do you mean?” Your father asked. “Mother died, giving birth to me..” You turned to face your father. “I won’t let them blame me for yours too!” Before your father could realize your words you quickly ran out of your room, locking him inside by placing a chair against the knob.

“Y/n! Let me out, Y/N!” Your father called out, Henry looked between you and your siblings who rushed upstairs to let your father out. 

He hesitated, not knowing where to run after. You grabbed your coat that hung up by the door. “Don’t forget me!” You called out before running to take your father’s horse. 

As you rode off, you heard your father call out for you but got stopped by your brothers. 

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

As you approached the woods, you leaned down to the horse. “A life for a rose.” You watched as the horse's pupils dilated before taking off into the forest. 

You tried to shield yourself as he passed through sharp branches, you had managed to gain scratches on your arms. After a bumpy ride you had finally arrived at the abandoned palace your father had stumbled onto.

You hopped off the horse and walked to find the entrance of the palace, while exploring you took note of the amount of overgrown vines there were covering the building and a statue in the fountain. As you walked up the steps leading to the doors.

The big doors opened in front of you. You hesitated before walking in, the doors shut making you jump before looking around.

You followed the vines that lead up to stairs, on the top of the stairs was a door that had a bridge leading to a room, you walked into the room and looked around, the ceiling was covered in rose vines, the four bed posts were covered as well. 

You looked to your left and saw a pond of water in a cove looking area. 

“A life for a rose..” A voice spoke out of nowhere, making you look around for the source. 

After failing to do so you walked over to the bed that had a fur blanket on top, you ran your hand through the fur. You looked up and stood shocked, a lavender dress with swirls embroidered into the fabric. You reached your hand out to touch it but pulled your hand back.

You avoid looking at your scratched up hand, you sighed before turning to the water and walked over. 

Swirls appeared in the water, you leaned closer and dipped your hand into the water, within moments, you pulled your hands out to see them healed, no traces of scratches. 

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

“The girl was ready to die with the first strike of the bell, as she looked around the beasts palace, a noise echoed through her body; Her heartbeat.” The drawing in the book showed a girl in the middle of a ballroom of sorts, in a lavender dress with jewels across her neck.

The second drawing showed the girl lifting a curtain, behind her stood a beast in the shadow on the fabric.

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

You quietly walked into the dining hall and looked around for anyone and held your breath as you heard footsteps behind you.

“My name is y/n, i’ve come to exchange my life rather  than my father’s..” You explained to whoever stood behind you. “Seat yourself.” The gruff voice spoke.

You noticed two chairs, one on each end of the table. You walked to the chair near the fireplace and sat down, not looking up to your now captor.

He walked behind your chair and spoke, “Eat, when you have regained your strength, you will be able to walk wherever you want on my domain; but when night has fallen I forbid you to leave the palace,” He told you, leaning in as you picked up a sliced potato.

“If I must die, let it be now.” Your eyes watered up. “You’re braver than your father; Each evening at seven bells precisely, you must be here, do not think of escaping. The forest will close in on you.” You agreed, shakily.

As you listened to his terms, you looked towards the silverware gasped, a scared and bruised hand was next to your plate. You turned to look at him but he was nowhere to be seen, scared you ran back to the room for the night. 

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

“Shall I stop?” The storyteller questioned, looking over at the children. 

“No!” 

“We need to hear what happened next!”

“I can’t possibly go to bed now, she barely met the beast!”

“Read more please, it’s sad she’s all alone, poor girl.” The storyteller chuckled. “It’s true she was all alone now; As she walked up the stairway, the girl understood for the first time, she was spending the night away from her family and home. What she did not know was that, living in the palace, the beast had servants living in the palace, she didn’t know but they were going to be very helpful.” The kids perked up.

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

You sighed as you walked into your bedroom and placed the candle by your bedside and laid down on the bed, it was surprisingly soft and comfortable, it hadn’t taken much time before you fell asleep.

You woke up in your dream, you watched as two girls stared at themselves in a mirror and laughed as a group of hunters returned.

“They’re back!” One cheered. “Shouting, excited and dirty.” The other sighed, you watched as the pair walked over to the men.

You watched as one of the girls smiled and ran towards her husband and kissed him, his friends quickly approached and grabbed him from her. 

“Take your dirty hands off her!”

“Woah!” 

“Ah yes my friend, no stag, no prize for you!” One of them chuckled. The man's wife scoffed, “Are you still after that stag?” The man nodded at his wife. “I’ve hunted it for years, but I know I'm near, luda.” She sighed. “What better trophy, after you?” He grins at the woman.

“He plans on using the cut on the stag.” Luda’s eyes widened at the news. “Ay! I’m thirsty, let's get a drink!” The man’s wife sighed before following the group.

You watched as the room around you changed, it was the room you were staying in but without the rose vines everywhere.

You watched as luda got her hair brushed by a servant. “I mean, he could’ve come back and spent some time with me. I’ve had it.” She sighed, you looked over as the doors opened up. The man from earlier walked in, nodding as the servant excused herself and left the room.

He walked up behind the woman and kissed up her neck, she sighed and turned to look at her husband.

“You smell of game...” He pulled away and stared down at the woman, he picked her up and carried her to the bed and placed her down before kissing her once more.

“My love, I have something to ask of you..” You watched as he sat up to listen to his wife. “I want you to stop hunting that beast.” He paused before sighing.

“What for?” He questioned. 

“I’ve had enough, I've been lonely while you’ve gone hunting..here, without you..” She played with the kefta he wore.

“Agreed, but on one condition.” She nods at his words. “Give me a child of our own.” She smiled softly at him. 

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

You woke up, as you went to wipe your eyes of sleep; you jumped at the sight of a scarred man by your bed, you did a double take but by the second glance he was gone. 

You quickly sat up and looked around the room, a new dress sat in the corner. A turquoise dress with a gold belt. You slowly rose out of your bed and walked over to examine it.

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

“The girl waited for hours in her room before leaving. She feared seeing the beast jump out from the shadows. But her curiosity was far more stronger than her fear. She wanted to explore the grounds that she is now bound too.” The kids listened as the storyteller flipped the page, only a few yawning before shaking themselves awake.

“A deer had caught her attention, it stopped and stared back at her, almost as if it wanted her to follow, luckily she did so, the deer guided her to a secluded garden, a stone statue in the middle of it all. She walked closer and brushed away the rose petals that had fallen on to the statue’s face.” The storyteller flipped the page to continue.

“To the girl's surprise, it was the same woman as she had seen in her dream, “luda” as the people called her.” The kids gasped.

“The girl froze up as you noticed the facial features were the same. “Luda?” she called out, stood back and stared as if luda rose from the stone; Some years or centuries even, another woman had lived, loved and died in the cursed palace.” 

“Why me? Why do you haunt my dreams?” The girl asked, shaking at her discovery. Without a second thought the girl ran back to her room and waited til dinner with her mysterious jailer.”

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

“You’re late!” You sighed and sat down in the chair, staring at your hands. 

“Do you like your new dress?” He asked, pacing behind her chair. “Never come into that room again.” You said coldly, he scoffed. 

“May I remind you who makes the rules here?” He said, walking to the chair across the table and sat with his back to you.

“You watched me sleep!” You scoffed at him. “Enough, eat.” He commanded. 

“You’re not eating?” You questioned, picking up your fork. “I said to eat.” He sighed.

 “May I speak or am I suppose to eat in silence like a child?” You inquired. “That’s what you are, an arrogant child.” He remarked. “A child that you watched sleep.” You said before taking a bite of your food.

“You talk too much!” He hissed.

“I know it pleases you, that I'm filling the emptiness..” You smirked into your cup. He scoffs. 

“I do have a question though...whose place is this?” He sighed. “Everything here belongs to me.” 

You both went back and forth. “Resist me all you want, but you will be mine!” He stated before storming out of the dinning hall. You rolled your eyes at him.

After dinner you made your way to your bedroom, you jumped as a figure stood in your room, a woman with ginger hair.

“Who are you?” you asked, slightly confused. “Um, you aren’t suppose to be back early...i’m genya i’m a servant to your kidnapper..” She introduces herself to you, holding something behind her back. 

“How do I know you're not lying to me?” You question, ready to throw the candle if need be. “Uh, you traded places with your father!” She said, holding her hands up to show she was innocent and didn’t mean any harm.

“I just came by to leave you this, I saw on your father’s list he had perfume.” She handed you a tiny bottle of perfume, you looked at the bottle and shook your head and handed it back. “My sister’s requested that, i only asked for a rose but you see how that ended..” You awkwardly chuckled before walking to your bed and sat down.

“Is there anything you’d like to keep you entertained, trust me i know how boring it gets here..” You both chuckled. “I like reading, if that helps..” Genya nodded at the information you had given her. 

“I should probably let you rest now, but i’ll keep that in mind..” You nodded and waved as genya walked out of your room.

Once she was gone, you got undressed and slept in your underclothing.

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

You looked around and quickly realized, you were in another dream, you looked around to see a ball room filled with people. You watched as luda reached out for the man’s hand.

“My friends, today is a great day, the palace will finally have an heir.” You watched as the people around you clapped at the news. The music started to play, luda and her husband both started to dance around the ballroom. 

“What are you thinking of?” Luda questioned.

“The first time we met, by the river.” He smiled. “You were by the edge, undressing.” Luda snickered as her husband got flustered. “You were about to drown.” He quipped back. “I swim better than you!” She teased, you watched as the pair smoothly continued.

“And if we went back to our room?” He smirked, luda sighed. “Don’t forget your promise.” “Which one?” She gave him a stern look.

“The stag, aleksander.” You perked up, finally knowing the husband’s name.

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

Once you had woken up you got dressed in a new gown, today it was a dark blue, with long sleeves. Once dressed, you noticed a book on the vanity. You walked over and picked it up.

It had a piece of parchment on the front.

‘Thought you’d like to read, one of David's favorites.’ 

(David is another servant to him..) - Genya 

You smiled down at the note and looked through the book and took it with you outside.

After a few hours of reading on the steps, you got up and looked around the palace some more. 

You smiled as you saw red hair hide away as you turned a corner, you walked closer and tapped Genya's shoulder.

“Thank you for the book! I love it so far!” Genya smiled at you. “I’m glad, sadly the books are the only escape for those of us trapped here..” You nodded as you both walked up more steps, your attention was directed to a group of others laughing as they cooked or messed about. 

“How many are trapped here?” You asked, genya sighed. “Several, stuck here to deal with his temper..” She motions for your kidnapper.

“But ignore that, most of us are used to his temper, we actually were excited when we heard a lady had entered the palace.” She gently bumps your elbows together.

“Well if he chooses to keep me alive, i’ll gladly spend time with you all here, seems peaceful away from him.” You both chuckled.

 - - - - - - - - - - - -

For once you were earlier than him to the dining hall, you sat quietly sipping on porridge. 

As the bell rang out you heard rushed footsteps into the room. You kept your eyes low and watched as the bottom of his coat trailed behind him; He walked over and stood behind your chair. “I’d like to apologize for myself last night, You were right...you do fill an immense emptiness..Do you like my gifts?” He asked, raising a hand towards you.

He sighed when you didn’t respond. “Why don’t you answer me?” He questions.

“I miss my family..” You answered. He scoffs before moving towards his turned chair.

“Forget them! They’re gone, you live with me now” He stopped, besides your chair. 

“It may be helpful for you to turn your back on the past but I can’t.” 

“What do you know about me?” He waited before answering. “Nothing!” “Nothing, you’re right..” You sighed, placing down your spoon.

“I’ll make you a deal, a few hours with my family..” You trailed off. 

“And for what?” He questioned. You stared at your feet. “A dance; in exchange you let me see them..” You proposed, thinking back to your dream.

He sighed. “You’re treating me like a beggar.” 

“I can lead if you’re afraid.” You offered, he scoffed and with a wave of his scarred hand, your eyes were covered by darkness.

Being somewhat of a gentleman, he guided you to the abandoned ballroom and walked you both to the middle before letting go of your hands.

You did a slight curtsy and held up your hand. Unbeknown to you he bowed back before taking your soft palm in his and placed the other on your waist.

You prayed to the saints you wouldn’t step on his feet or your dress, saints know how embarrassed you’d be. 

You quietly moved your other hand up to place it on his chest, perfectly aligned to his heart. 

The two of you waltzed around the ballroom, your gown brushing away stray leaves on the floor. You leaned in closer to him. “You lead.” Without a beat he started dancing with you once more.

 - - - - - - - - - - - -

“The girl felt as if she had stepped back into the dream as they waltzed around.” The kids smiled and got closer as the page showed an illustration of a pair dancing and with the girl blindfolded with some kind of shadow thing.

“They’re in love!” One of the children declared with a grin. 

“Not quite yet; For the first time since being taken away the girl felt at peace with him, as he moved them around she gently laid down her head on his chest, his heart fluttered at the sight of the girl.” The storyteller grinned.

“Does she love him yet?” Another questioned. “Let’s keep reading, shall we?” The kids nodded.

 - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Do you think you could love me?” He questioned, making you snap your eyes open and turn to face him.

Pushing him away, you huffed. “We made a deal…keep your promise..” you stepped back.

Unbeknown to you, he stepped forward towards you. “It’s been a while since I've had to promise something.”

Being upset, you let out a scoffed. “You dress yourself in fine clothing to cover up that you’re just a cruel and lonely beast that disgusts anyone!”

You could hear his footsteps leave the room, leaving you alone with a blindfold of darkness.

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

It wasn’t till hours later that genya noticed your absence and while searching the palace that she helped guide you to your room for the night.

Once you knew genya was gone, you got up from the small vanity and opened the door and walked out to the hallway and explored.

As you roamed the palace, you had noticed as you approached the south wing, it had gotten messier.

You could hear two voices coming from a room.

“Just let her breathe for once!” It was genya.

“I have to kill her genya..” 

“..you what?” Genya let out a gasp at his words. 

Before you could hear more, you slowly backed away. Your blood ran cold as your back touched a wooden frame, you turned your head to look and froze at the portrait.

It was an old painting of luda and aleksander with their faces slashed out. The poor couple must’ve had the same fate..

You swallowed the scream you desperately wanted to let out and ran to the main hall where you had first stepped foot in.

As you stepped outside you quickly found your horse. After hopping on you had hoped for a way out of the hell you had been trapped in.

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

A frantic David brusted through the doors making genya jump.

“What’s the matter david?” 

David panted, clearly frantic at his news. “She’s left the palace..” 

Genya snapped her head towards the beast who clenched his jaw before storming down to the main hall to find you, it was impossible for you to escape him now.

As you rode your horse through the frozen over lake, you panicked as growling came behind you, with a single glance you felt your hands start to shake, volcra. 

Without noticing your horse bucked you off, making you fall onto the ice, you were too panicked to hear it cracking under you.

As you went to block yourself from a volcra that came sweeping down, a slash cut it in half.

You watched as dead volcra dropped around you. 

You gasped as your savior straddle your legs, your eyes widened, it was aleksander…he was much more scarred then he was in your dreams. 

“Now you know who I am;” He leaned in closer towards your face.

“Tell me again, how i disgust you.” You panted, trying to catch your breath as he leaned forwards, his eyes drifting towards your lips.

As he reached your lips the ice beneath you broke, dropping you into the freezing water.

Unlucky your dress had only weighed you down, you closed your eyes that felt heavy.

Aleksander sighed and quickly reached his hand into the water and pulled you up by your bodice.

He quickly took off his winter cape and wrapped you up and carried you back to the palace.

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

“The beast gently laid her down on her bed, demanding his servants to help aid the girl.” The children gasped as they listened.

“Is she gonna be alright?” The smallest of the group asked, clutching onto the blanket sprawled out on their lap.

“Possibly?” The storyteller grinned.

“Possibly?!” The oldest squawked.

“You all should really get to bed now…it is pretty late…” The storyteller teased the children by closing the book and stood up from the chair.

“NOW!?” 

“WHAT?”

“NO!”

“I won’t be able to sleep!” Their protests made the storyteller laugh before raising their hands in surrender and sat back down.

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

You groaned as you opened your eyes to see the beast’s back towards you.

Due to the shock, you had a hard time recalling the moments before, you shook your head as Aleksander's face popped into your head.

You did manage to spot genya with the beast, the pair talking in hushed tones.

Genya smiled soft;y at you, noticing how you sat yourself up a tad.

Genya motioned in your direction with her chin.

You grasped the blanket in shock, it hadn’t been your memories clashing together, it really was aleksander in front of you.

“Leave us be for now genya..” The redhead nodded before leaving the room after placing down some more books.

Aleksander turned to you, if you hadn’t looked up at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the tint of concern in his dark eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

“Alright..” You mumbled back.

“That’s good..” He said as he rolled up his shirt, you let out a soft gasp at his forearms.

They had long open scratches on each arm, it was from the volcra..

“Thank you for saving me..”

Aleksander scoffed, moving his hand to hold pressure to his wounds, he had directed his attention to you that the painful stings were hardly there for him.

As he sat down on the vanity chair, you slowly moved from your bed and walked over to the pond of water and grabbed a cloth from the side and soaked it before ringing it out and walked over to aleksander, who had zoned out, his jaw still tensed.

You gently took hold of his arm before dapping the cloth onto the wound.

Aleksander hissed and went to yank his arm away. You huffed and tugged it back before dapping the cloth again.

“That hurts!” He hissed, in pain. His face closer to yours.

“If you stay still, it won’t sting as bad!” You hardened your features and stared at him, keeping the same distance.

Aleksander sighed and stuck out his other arm for you.

After re-soaking the cloth, you softly dapped the outside of his scratches. You both stayed silent. “Thank you again..” You spoke softly, watching how much pressure you placed on the wound.

“You’re welcome..”

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

As the week passed, aleksander had genya and healers constantly check your health after the incident; in a panic aleksander had placed you on bed rest, in case you had harmed your bones somehow.

The days you had spent lounging in your bed, reading or talking with the others.

You perked up as the door creaked open, aleksander walked in, carrying in two plates of food. You had taken note of how softer he had become with you being injured, for a peculiar reason it had warmed your heart a bit.

“What’s for tonight?” You questioned, placing your book off to the side as aleksander handed you a plate and sat down in front of you.

“Lamb with potatoes..your favorite..” He joked.

You lifted your head letting out a small laugh.

“Yeah, love when it's scalloped too..” You teased, making aleksander grow a tiny smirk before taking a bite of his food.

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

Aleksander stood on his balcony, watching as you and David strolled through the garden, occasionally stopping to feed the birds.

He watched with a small smile growing on his face as you fell into the snow from bumping into David's side a bit too hard.

He froze as he noticed his own expression, genya glanced over at him. 

“I think I wanna do something for her..but what?” Aleksander questioned. 

Genya smiled at his words. 

“Books.” Genya trailed off.

Aleksander sent genya a confused look. “She likes books, and I believe you have just a room for her.”

He grinned back at genya before nodding to himself.

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

“Close your eyes…” You gave aleksander a weary look as you closed your eyes.

“Don’t bump me into anything please..” You pleaded, making aleksander chuckle before gently taking your hands and guided you down a hall. “I’ll try, very big on the try..” he grinned as you scrunched your nose up.

“I wanted to show you something..” He led you inside his library. 

He left you in the middle of the room before moving to open the long curtains, you scrunched up as the light hit your face. 

Aleksander glanced around the room before nodding to himself, he turned back to you and smiled.

“You can open your eyes now.” 

Slowly you blinked your eyes, lifting your hand, trying to adjust your eyes to the light.

You gasped as you looked around you, it was a filled library. 

“Oh my, it’s beautiful..” You admired the room, glancing everywhere.

“Then it’s yours, you can visit it anytime you want.” You glanced over to aleksander and gave him a smile.

“Thank you, this has to be the nicest thing someone’s done for me!” 

Aleksander watched you explore the room with a subtle smile on his face.

“She could be the one..” Feydor smiled at Genya, who leaned against the doorway as you led aleksander to a bookshelf.

“I hope it’s her, he looks happier with her near..” Genya smiled.

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

“Aww, he cares for her now!” The oldest girl grinned.

“A whole room?! For herself?” The youngest sat on their bed, mouth opened in shock at the drawing of the room.

“The girl and the beast slowly grew closer, even developing feelings, they would constantly be found in the library, the girl reading to the prince often. The girl had realized her new found feelings one day while the pair had gone on a walk through the palace grounds, the beast had given her his kefta to help keep her warm.” The storyteller smiled as the children were in awe of the story.

“The Beast had gladly accepted an invitation to have a dance with the girl. Each had spent hours preparing, knowing it'd be the night their feelings for one another would change. The girl had worn a beautiful ball gown chosen by genya.” The drawing on the paper had shown the girl in a black ball gown and her hair done.

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

“You clean up pretty well..” You teased aleksander as you walked down the steps into the ballroom.

“Well, you look beautiful in that dress. Genya has good taste..” You both smiled, aleksander bowed before you, in return you curtsied back before placing your hands on his shoulder and in his palm, letting him guide you both around.

You watched with a smile as the bottom of your dress swung around the floor.

You both looked at each other as you both danced around, you occasionally helped him with the dance.

“Just don’t get my toes.” You teased as he pulled you closer. “I’ll try to avoid them..” He chuckled, glading you both towards the big window where the moon hung perfectly.

You both stopped, your eyes going to the lit up sky, while Aleksander's eyes went to your bright eyes.

You glanced over and blushed as aleksander stared at you with a loving expression. You both leaned in closer to one another.

Holding your breath as you could feel his breath on your lips, both of you closing your eyes as you leaned in further.

You both stopped as a bunch of whispers came from the doorway. You both pulled away, chuckling and feeling flustered.

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

Aleksander stood in the corridor of the library and watched as you sat peacefully in front of the fireplace, reading and occasionally stopping to get a sip of tea Genya had brought you earlier.

As footsteps approached, you glanced up from your book and smiled at aleksander. “Hello, care to join me?” He nodded at your words, sitting down beside you.

“What’s this story about?” Aleksander questioned, scooting closer to you. 

“Maiden in the tower, it’s about this young girl who was kidnapped as a child, by this lady who was secretly thousands of years old. The girl had just found out she’s apparently her kingdom’s lost princess..” You explained the story as you turned the page to continue on.

As you read the reunion of the maiden and her family, Aleksander's eyes wandered from the page to the side of your face that held a bit of sadness.

He hated seeing you like that, knowing it was his fault you were separated from your family. Your eyes continued to move downwards across the page.

Aleksander sighed and placed his hand and lowered the book, gaining your attention.

“Y/n,” Aleksander sighed as he cut himself off.

“Yes?” You questioned, tilting your head a bit.

“I’ll let you return to your family on one last deal..” Your eyes widened at his words.

“What kind of deal?” You questioned, scooting closer to him.

“Promise you’ll never forget about me, I truly wished I had met you under different circumstances..” Aleksander sighed, placing his hand on your cheek, making you lean into his hand.

“I won’t, you were the first who put up with my “childish” self..” You teased, a few tears spilling from your eyes, realizing this was your goodbye. 

“Here, this is for you.” He handed you a small necklace with a small rose on it. You smiled at the necklace and put it on, before pouncing forwards and tackled him into a hug.

“I’ll always remember you aleksander.” You hugged him, making the beast grunt at the strength of your hug, he wrapped his arms around you one last time before letting you go.

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

You could hardly contain your enjoyment, after months of being apart, you’d finally get to be with your family, it did pain you to leave the palace and everyone behind.

As the horse trotted up to the house, you noticed the boarded up windows, you hopped off your horse and walked closer to the house.

Once closer the door swung open, revealing henry. He tugged you inside the house before hugging you.

The sound of the door had alerted the other, making them rush to see what had happened. “y/n..” Thomas said in disbelief.

You smiled and took off Aleksander's kefta and hung it on the coat rack. Unbeknown to you each of your brothers eyed your dress but stayed quiet.

Your eyes drifted towards the messy table, covered in maps, old food and weapons.

You scoffed and turned to your brothers. “Look at this mess, what are you doing with those weapons?” 

The youngest let out a scoff.

“Ask henry..” Tristan sighed, looking over to the oldest who huffed at him. “Be quiet and go back to your post.”

“My post?” He questioned.

“HIs post?” You looked at your brother with wide eyes before shaking your head.

“So, you’re playing general now, are you?” Tristan egged on.

“Enough, just go back over there.” Thomas sighed, stepping between the pair. 

“Stop taking sides, you big coward!” Thomas scoffed and went to swing but you and henry stopped both boys.

“Look at yourselves!” You called out to the pair, making them stop. “Here, y/n, follow me.” Henry said, walking up the stairs.

You followed shortly behind. Once on the top of the stairs, Henry gestured towards your sister's shared room.

You nodded and opened the door quietly. 

“I just know they’re going to sell us to dirty sailors to pay Henry's debt!” Anne said, groaning hidden behind their loveseat.

“We’ll just say we don’t know how to clean-!” Marie tried reassuring her but the pair froze as they heard your footsteps.

Marie’s eyes popped over the seat and quickly widened at the sight of you. 

“Anne…” Marie gasped out.

“What?” She whispered back, peeking her eyes over the seat too.

“it’s y/n’s ghost, she’s come back to haunt us!” Marie cried out. 

“Maybe we’re dreaming still?” Anne questioned, watching you intensely. “It’s not a dream, i’ve come back with one last message..my dear sisters i loved you both truly.” You played into their frantic state.

“Even dead, she’s pretty..” Marie whispered out. 

“I wanted you to know, i alway thought about you two..” You slowly walked closer to them.

“We thought about you everyday too!”

“It’s Anne's fault, she made me take your room..” Marie pointed subtly to the oldest sister.

You gasped and jumped on the loveseat in front of them. “You what?!” They screamed and jumped back.

You chuckled and looked at the both of them with a smile, “Where’s father?” You questioned, looking in between them.

“...since you left, he’s gotten incredibly tired, hasn’t woken up since..” Anne updated you.

You quickly rushed across the hall towards your father’s room.

You gasped as he laid in his bed, deeply asleep. You walked closer and held his hand.

“Father..I'm home now, you can wake up now..” You whispered to him, but nothing happened. 

You let your tears fall, you carefully laid your head beside his on the other pillow and cried as you hoped he’d wake up.

While you fell asleep upstairs, Henry picked off a golden shank button on Aleksander's kefta. “This is worth hundreds, i could sell this and rid us of my debt!” Henry smirked, placing the button in his pocket.

“Not that, I forbid you!” Tristan protested, standing in front of the door. Henry sighed and looked at Thomas, who looked away. Henry pulled the button from his pocket.

Henry nodded to himself and tossed the button and caught it, he swiftly punched Tristan, making him pass out, Thomas quickly caught the younger brother and dragged him away from the door, they both left him laying on the ground before walking outside.

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

You looked around and quickly spotted a glowing stag across the lake from where you stood.

“Look at her glossy coat..” You jumped and turned behind you to see the same group aleksander had hung out with in previous dreams.

“It’s finally her time.” One smirked, aleksander scoffed and raised a hand.

“She’s mine alright.” They all stepped back as he watched the animal move around before moving his hands.

The stag froze and looked in his direction before sprinting away.

Aleksander groaned before quickly chasing behind it.

You watched as the animal ran and was caught in the palace garden. You watched as aleksander stood in front of the others and hopped off his horse and walked closer to the animal.

He quickly raised his hands up and used the cut, at the moment it all had clicked in your head. 

You watched as the stag laid on the ground, aleksander approached the stag and quickly froze as the animal revealed itself, there laid luda, a severe cut on her stomach.

You gasped at the sight. “Luda!” Aleksander yelled, running towards her.

She laid on the ground, she slowly raised a hand up to his face and gave him a tired smile. “You didn’t know any better..aleksander.” She shakily inhaled.

Aleksander weeped as his wife died in his arms. “I didn’t mean for this to happen..” He held her close.

You noticed how the sky quickly turned gray and stormy.

“Saints, forgive him, for he didn’t know.” You watched as aleksander’s friends where attacked by volcra, you turned around to face aleksander and luda and watched as volcra started to swoop down and attack him, earing brutal scars to his face and exposed body.

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

Thomas and henry stood in the snowy forest, waiting for orion to arrive to make a deal.

“You are betraying y/n..” Thomas paced back and fourth.

“I’m saving us, she’ll understand.” Henry’s expresson was stoic as he looked around the forest.

Before thomas could say anymore, Orion rode up on his horse, his men following shortly behind.

“What are you doing here, I thought we were meeting at your little shabby shack.” Orion smirked at the brothers.

“I brought my handsome men for your sisters..” He motioned towards his men which were known as the towns laziest drunks. 

“I have a deal to make with you.” Henry dug the button out of his pocket.

“No more deals with you..” Orion sneered.

As orion and his men went to leave, henry moved towards them more.

“I’ll give you my sister..” Thomas froze at his brother’s words.

Orion turned to face henry, a smirk on his face. “Which sister are you talking about?” 

Henry swallowed harshly, “Y/n, my family’s youngest.” he cringed as orion let out a joyus laugh.

“Perhaps, your sister could pay your debt.” 

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

You woke up sweating, you looked around the room and saw your father still asleep beside you, yelling came from the bottom floor.

You quickly got yourself together before walking odwnstairs and froze at the sight of orion who sat comfortably on the small couch, his filthy hands admiring your previously worn kefta.

“Ah, my bride is awake.” 

Your blood ran cold at his words. “Bride?” You questioned. 

Henry walked towards you, moving form where he stood against a wooden pole. 

“You are to be orion’s bride to pay for this family’s debt.” henry gently grabbed your arm, you quickly yanked yourself away from him, orion scoffed and stood up from the couch and stepped closer to you.

“I refuse!” You backed up and bumped into thomas who had a stoic look on his face as he pushed you into orion’s arms.

“Not your choice!” Orion snarled in your ear as he brushed back your hair, making you cringe.

Thomas’ eyes grew wide as a glow from your necklace lit up before dying down to a slight glimmer.

“The forest..” a gruff voiced whispered, making you looked around the room and noticed the lack of orion’s men inside and out.

You took a deep breath before elbowing orion’s nose before running to your horse outside.

“That bitch!” Orion groaned, following you outside as you rode off into the forest.

You shuttered as you rode deeper into the cold forest. The sounds of horses flooded your ears as you glanced up and saw orion and his men.

In a panic, you leaned into the horse’s ear and whispered. “More than life itself.”  You leaned back and watched as the pathed opened up, you ducked as the horse sped up and ran through the prickly tress and frozen land.

As you approached the front, you eagerly hopped off your horse and ran to aleksander who stood outside the palace doors, almost if he was waiting.

He held you tightly as you huffed, tired of the journey back.

“I’ll keep you safe.” He told you, a scared hand brushing over the back of your head in comfort. 

“There she is!” A voiced called out, making you jump as an arrow missed you both. Aleksander quickly lead you into the palace, you noticed the amount of people in the entrance, waiting for aleksander’s command.

“Looks like we have un wanted visitors, take care of them.” He commanded, leading you towards your room.

As you climbed the stairs to your room you caught a glance of aleksander’s grisha opening the palace doors to face the visitors.

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

“As the beast lead the girl away, gaston had managed to slip through the doors and followed the trail. Outside the palace, saffin commanded grisha to attack two men who approuched the stairs but pleaded for them to give mercy, the two men had kneelded and whispered a name that struck saffin’s soul.

Saffin had froze and got a look of the men and saw the similar features the two shared with the girl, she quickly allowed them to pass into the palace, once in the brothers soon found gaston’s trail.” The storyteller spoke, pausing to flip the page.

“I hate gaston!” The youngest girl pouted in her bed, arms crossed as she listened.

“Is he going to kill the beast?!” 

The storyteller chuckled before shrugging at the children.

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

As you and aleksander walked into your room, you gasped as a knife deeply grazed aleksander’s side.

You looked behind his shoulder and saw orion not the far behind. 

You quickly knelt down to aleksander’s side to help aid his wound.

“You’ll be alright we just need to get you to the-!” You gasped as orion held you against himself, a blade against your neck. “Let her go.” Aleksander rasped out as he held his side in pain.

“What are you suppose to be? A lion? A kitten?” Orion taunted, holding the blad closer, the steel pressing into your neck. 

“I’ll kill you if you harm her.” Aleksander warned, you gasped as orion move you and himself into a corner of your room, using your body as a shield aleksander off. “Useless threats..” Orion chided aleksaner.

Before the pair could argue the door opened to your brothers, tristan and thomas who held their weapons in preperation. 

“Y/n!” Tristan said, frantic as he noticed your positon, being used as a shield to a beast.

Thomas pointed his weapon towards aleksander which made you thrust forward but was jerked back. “Don’t, he tried to protect me from orion!” You groaned as orion nicked your throat, making a droplet of blood fall to the floor.

A red rosed blossomed from the bloodstain, you looked at aleksander who’s eyes followed the blooddroplet before lunging at orion, pushing you away and into your brothers side.

You hit you head on the floor but you looked in time to see aleksander use the cut on orion, who before being killed thrusted his blade into aleksander’s stomach, making him crumple over.

You quickly scrambled to aleksander’s side as he laid on the floor, holding his stomach.

“No, no, no, this came happen.” You whispered to yourself as you placed his head into your lap. 

He coughed, blood staining his teeth, you sobbed as he let out a ragged breath. “You can’t die, you can’t..” You cried as he slowly raised his hand to your cheek and smiled as he brushed hair away, aleksander wanted to make sure his last moments were of his last love.

You watched as his breathing slowled down and his eyes got heavier. “Aleksander?” You tapped his cheek twice but no response, you fell forward and weeped.

In the corner of you tears, you saw a trail of glowing light leading toward’s the small pond of water, quickly connecting the dots you lifted yourself up and turned to your brothers who watched in pity as you cried for your lover.

“Help me, please.” You pleaded, thomas and tristan quickly tossed aside their weapons and helped lift aleksander into the pond, you placed your forehead against the edge and pleaded to the saints as he was submerged. The glow surround aleksander’s body.

Your brothers watched in shock as aleksadner’s scars slowly washed off under the water, his wounds began to heal closed. 

Aleksander slowly opened his eyes and looked around in shock, he was alive once more.

He smiled softly as you whispered for him to be healed, he leaned closer. “I believe we’ve missed dinner.” 

You gasped at his voice, quickly raising your head and smiled as he looked back at you, healed from any scars. “You’re alive!” You cried out, hugging him tightly, not caring if your gown got wet.

“Always alive for you.” He grinned, embracing you tightly.

On the outside, the palace overgrown look had started to vanish, the garden being washed over by a wave of light, genya looked up and smiled as she saw the vines on the palace vanish, you had broke their curse to the palace.

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

You smiled as you and aleksander stepped out onto the ballroom floor, surrounded by other couples.

“Certian as the sun,

Rising in the east

Tale as old as time,

Song as old as rhyme,

Beauty and the beast”

You smiled at aleksander as you both danced. “What is it? Do i have something on my face?” He quickly rised his hand to wipe his beard, making you smile and laugh.

“Is it bad, i want to have your scratched up face again?” Aleksander’s eyebrows rose up at your words.

“Oh? Is that how it is wife?” He snickered, drawing you in close to kiss your cheek.

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

“They couple had gotten married and had a huge wedding, y/n’s sisters had found husbands amongst aleksander’s grisha, henry had apologized to y/n and aleksander which after a few years they made up. Tristan had taken up being a guard for his sister, and thomas had gone on to write books, several for his children and nieces and nephews!” 

“It’s over?” The youngest boy questioned. 

“Sadly, but I say they lived happily ever after..” The storyteller grinned at the children.

“Genya looks like ms saffin from the book!” a flicker of the lights made the kids turn to the door where you stood with a grin.

“Bedtime check, goodnight munchkins!” You grinned as your nieces and nephews all said goodnight to you and genya before settling down, as you closed the door you heard them talking about the story to each other as a bedtime talk.

“Thank you again genya!” You thanks the woman who smiled and shook her head. “I have to get practice for the newst member.” SHe winked at you before walking to her quarters.

You quietly walked towards your bedroom on the top floor, You quietly opened the door and smiled at the sight.

“Mommy!” Your little boy squealed flinging himself at you from the bed. “My loves!” You smiled as aleksander walked into your bedroom his hands behind his back. “What are you hiding?” You questioned, making aleksander grin as he pulled out a red rose and handed it to you. “Fresh from your garden.”

“Thank you but i believe the garden full of roses are enough of your affection for me.” You teased, kissing aleksander.

As you and aleksander slid into bed with your son in between you all talked for a bit before he asked for a story. 

“Alright, i’m a bit rusty so apologiges but, once upon a time there was a rich merchant.” You smiled at the story and snuggled into the blanket as aleksander sat up to tell the story to your son.

[xfgpng]

𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬

— : [nsfw ] pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, overstimulation, love confessions

— : wc : 846

a/n : there is a 17 year age difference between reader and eren in this. however, they are both consenting adults.

eren doesn’t do feelings and romance. he’s been married before and that failed so he isn’t interested in dating. he likes sex, who the hell doesn’t? and at the age of 42, he’s very experienced and he likes to get his dick wet.

he had zero intentions of being in any type of serious relationship but he was bored of fucking different women every other night. he only signed up on this website out of curiosity. his older brother had met his current girlfriend on there and he knows jean has a profile too. he’s seen it despite the fucker being in denial about it. eren doesn’t get what’s the big deal about, it’s no different than any of dating app.

don’t they make you pay for premium?

he didn’t find it interesting, at least until he came across your page. you were a pretty little thing, 25 and career orientated. you expressed your desire to have a good time, no strings attached type of relationship. while you were working and had a good job, it wasn’t enough to sustain the lifestyle you really wanted and he admired your honesty.

he did love a women who wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted and god you were so fucking hot, he felt his dick twitch as he scrolled through your pictures. you were so pretty, painfully so and normally eren didn’t care for these things because he could have anyone he wanted but he had to have you. all of you.

it had been exactly 5 months since that day and now he had you all to himself, laid out so prettily on his expensive sheets as he kissed you all over your face. this is the longest eren has ever been with anyone romantically and he knows he doesn’t want to go back to casually fucking other people when you were all he needed.

“can’t” you whine, legs shaking from your first two orgasms but eren was rock hard, cock nestled deep inside your sensitive pussy and the older man showed no signs of being done with you just yet.

“yes you can baby” he grins, “you’re a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

“i am” you nod, gripping his biceps as he slowly thrusts into you. his lower half is wet and sticky and he knows he’ll be making a mess of you again so he wasn’t too concerned about cleaning up right now.

“god, look at you” he groans, reaching down between your legs to rub your sore and puffy clit, picking up his pace as he fucked you into the bed.

“fuck” you cry out, fingers digging into his arms hard enough to leave marks and he loved when you marked him up.

your orgasm takes you by surprise despite having cum twice before this and your legs wrap tightly around him, back arching off the bed as you cum.

it won’t stop and when he looks down, you’re squirting again, all over him and yourself and it’s the sexiest fucking thing he’s ever seen.

he has to hold your body down to help you relax and he would take pity on you but you could handle it, you had your safe word and he would never push you further than you could handle.

“holy shit baby, fuck” his hips come to a stop, his own hot cum filling you up so much that it leaks out the sides of his cock and down into the sheets underneath you.

he knows that if you weren’t on the pill, you’d definitely be pregnant by now with the amount of times he cums inside you. he’s never fucked anyone raw, never really cared to because sex was just sex and nothing more but it felt so good with you.

“i love you” he says, kissing your cheeks and your forehead and your eyes widen.

he freezes above you, realising what he just said. eren does his best to remain nonchalant. it was fine, he just confessed to you, the first woman he can honestly say he can see a future with and he knows it’s more than the sex, more than the fun dates. it’s everything about you and how you make him feel.

these feelings still very new but he wasn’t ashamed, only slightly embarrassed that he was the first to say it.

“i.. love you too” you whisper shyly, coming down from your high. you’re still catching your breath and it’s funny how after the intense sex you’ve just had, this is what makes you shy.

he looks down at you with wide eyes but he calms down when you reach up to pull him into a kiss, wrapping your arms around him.

“yeah?” he asks softly, kissing your again and you nod

“yeah” you say just as softly but it turns into a moan when you feel his cock twitch and throb inside you. you didn’t understand how the fuck he could have so much stamina but you were more surprised at the fact that you could keep up with him.

[goodeapple]

badapple for your thoughts?

Jace being nervous about Baela and his’ first night together. Not when they’re married but before because Nyra's children are all sluts. He steals one of Ysilla’s “bad books”, a Westerosi version of the Kama Sutra. He pages through it all, making mental notes and growing hot at the descriptions he reads. 

Ysilla sneaks in, knowing he stole one of her books, but only thinking he did to get back at her for something silly. She catches him in the middle of jerking off, in a chair facing his hearth. When Ysilla realizes Jace is trying to become a bit more educated in the bedroom and not just being a gross boy, Ysilla creeps up behind him before sliding her hands down his shoulders and over his chest. Jace jolts, but Ysilla whispers for him to keep going. She undoes each button on his tunic, one-by-one, tracing her nails down his chest after each of them. She whispers dirty things in his ear- how he should pump himself a bit slower and relish in the burn, how he should lavish Baela’s tits with his mouth before jumping under her skirts, how he won’t disappoint her with how big he is. 

“Where have you been hiding that, Jace?” Ysilla breathes against his ear, a rebellious moan dragging out her words in a low vibration. Jace’s hips fuck up into his hand, his head falling back further into her neck. Ysilla giggles at his reaction. 

“You’re hung like a horse, baby brother. You must stretch out those serving girl’s cunts so well, they walk bowlegged for daysssss.” She drags her nails, claw-like and sharp, over the buds of his nipples and Jace lets loose a high-pitched moan. 

“Silli,” his nickname for her causes her heart to flutter, “please help me.” 

Ysilla presses a kiss to the start of his jaw and she dares to dip her hands lower on his torso. She’s spreading his shirt open further, now barely clinging to his biceps. Her hands round the dip of his waist, fingertips drumming a low droll along his abdomen, just brushing the start of the coarse hair there. 

Jace is now losing his shit, trying not to rocket cum up his chest. He wants to be good for Ysilla, wants to impress his big sister, all thoughts of his beautiful betrothed long gone from his mind. 

Ysilla’s breath is hot against his ear, and it rolls down his chest like a wave. She smells of plums and sweet grass and Jace is drunk off the scent. He wants to see her, see her eyes darken as she watches him stroke himself (stroke himself for her, to the thought of spreading her thick thighs and crawling home between them, baring her wet cunt to him and inviting himself in to see what she feels like.) He whines higher in his throat, tipping his head further back, making small gasps into her hair. Ysilla's hands are on his thighs, bent over the back of the chair just so that her tits are pillowing his head. Jace fights the urge to turn and bury his tongue in her cleavage. She’s stroking the soft dark hair along his thighs, nails digging in and marking him with deep red scratches every so often, just to remind him who's in charge. 

“Jacaerys…” Ysilla tugs on his earlobe with her teeth, before snaking her tongue around it. 

“Yes Silli?” His voice sounds so sweet, so eager to please. She smiles into his cheek. 

“I’m going to touch you know, okay?” His hips lift in anticipation, his lip caught between his teeth to keep from begging. “And if you cum before I allow you to, I’m going to be very upset okay, sweet boy? Do you hear me?” Ysilla’s fingers dance closer to his groin. Her blood is roaring in her ears. Her cunt is on fire under her dress and Ysilla lets a dark thought come unbidden in her head- of swinging her leg over Jace’s lap, lining his bobbing cock up with her hole, and sliding down until every thick inch splits her open. He would fill her up so good, so right, that she wouldn’t be able to think straight as he fucked her brainless. 

But this isn’t about her- this is about Jace learning some control and it won’t do him much good if Ysilla loses her own and focuses on chasing her own pleasure. Ysilla brushes her lips over the swell of Jace’s cheek, before finally wrapping her hand around his cock. Jace keens, thighs falling open and nails burrowing into the arm of the chair. All bravado and ego is thrown out the window, and suddenly, he’s every ounce a green boy who’s getting his prick touched for the first time by a hand that’s not his own. 

And then he cums in like two minutes teehee

[mncxbe]

Platonic Dazai x younger sister! Reader who's sassy

Oh yes this is so sweet I cannot. He would defo be such a sweet/ annoying brother tho. Also this takes place after the Ada finds out that Dazai worked with the Mafia. Enjoy♡♡

°☆○

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡/ Kunikida's pov to enhance the silly

Kunikida entered the office that Monday morning only to find everyone gathered in a big circle around the couch.

"What the...?" he mumbled to himself as he approached his colleagues, half hoping that Dazai didn't have anything to do with whatever was going on.

But of course he did. The young detective brought you, his little sister, to work with him.

"Isn't she absolutely adorable?" cooed Dazai as he pinched your cheek, causing you to frown.

"What am I, twelve?" you replied in an annoyed voice, rolling your eyes.

Kunikida stopped right next to Dazai, shooting him a death glare.

"I wasn't aware it was 'bring your little sibling at work day', Dazai"

"Aww Kunikida san but she asked me to take her with me. She wanted to see you." he said with a wicked smile.

"I never said that, flat ass" you snapped, a pink blush tinting your cheeks. "I just need help with my Maths homework that's all."

"But I could've helped you"

"As if. You didn't even go to school" you said with a provoking smirk but your brother didn't reply, instead turning to Kunikida.

"So can you help her? I'd be most grateful"

Kunikida looked at you for a brief moment. You looked almost like Dazai: the same wavy chestnut hair and brown eyes, but you were a bit thinner and shorter and your arms weren't covered up by bandages.

"Sure. I guess I could. I have a small window in my schedule and-"

"See little one?" chimed Dazai in as he ruffled your hair "Told you he'd help"

"I'm 17, flat ass. I'm not little anymore" you cried out, causing Ranpo to chuckle.

"Hey my ass is not flat" said your brother in the same tone as yours.

"I'd agree with you but then we'd both be wrong"

"Wow she's a feisty one" spoke Yosano between chuckles "I like her."

Dazai's eyes narrowed playfully upon hearing your remark "Very well then, so be it. If you think you're such a big girl why don't you recite the 26th page of your diary? It's about your crush on-"

All the blood in your face drained when you heard your brother talk and you quickly jumped off the couch, covering his mouth with your hands.

"You wouldn't dare."

He smirked, removing your quivering fingers "Oh I would"

"Then I'll hide your bandages"

"Then I'll take your laptop for a day" he said back

"I'll pour soy sauce in your shoes and wet all your socks every morning" you pressed, a glimmer of mischief in your eyes.

"Then I'll tell your Physics teacher about how you cheated on your finals last year."

Your face contorted in a pained expression but you still wouldn't back away. "Then... I'll invite you know who (us, the readers, know it's Chuya👀) to dinner at our place."

Your brother opened his mouth to say something but then immediately closed it, a smile rising to his lips. "Alright smart ass, you won. Now go at my desk and do your homework ok?"

With a proud smirk on your face you nodded, taking your tote bag from the couch and languidly making your way to his desk. You opened your English books, turned on your headphones and began working on your assignments; from time to time, you tapped the sleeve of your mechanical pencil in the rhythm of the song you were listening to.

The others went on with their duties too, leaving only Dazai and Kunikida next to the couch.

"She sure is a lot like you, Dazai." said the latter as he arranged his glasses.

"Well, what can I say." replied Dazai. "I tried to keep her away from the Port Mafia as much as I could, you know. To actually give her a chance in life but I guess she did end up a lot like me in some ways." He sighed "I'm really proud of her tho."

Kunikida only chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You know, maybe that's not a bad thing. That's she a lot like you. Plus, despite you she's hardworking."

"Aww Kunukida san did you just compliment me?" With that, Dazai was back to his normal self and the other man frowned, turning on his heels and marching towards his desk.

"I'll help her later with the homework. Go take care of your missions now"

"Suuure Kunikida san" added the brunette. His eyes slid to you again; you'd already written half a page. When you looked up to meet his gaze, you mouthed a silent "What, flat ass?", which made him chuckle. Waving you off, he walked towards the door, his heart swelling with pride and love for you. Dazai never had much of a family, but he sure was happy that you wound up being his little sister.

[wyn-n-tonic]

Something In the Static

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x f!reader Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: Uhhhh... warning you now that I don't know what happened here. Gif is just a gif.

“You ever reckon I’m holding you back?”

No Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.

No kiss.

Not even a Hey, baby.

Just the sound of the door closing and the smell of a beer washed down by rain coming in before he does. Before those words come out of his mouth.

And you must really show your confusion because he repeats them; he repeats this question that is so beyond comprehension that he says it again. Three fucking times like it’s one for every year you’ve been back here. 

Glasses off, you study him, sopping wet like a half drowned dog. “I'm going to ignore, Rhett Abbott, that you probably tracked cow shit through my goddamn living room seeing as you still have your boots on just so I can ask you if you’ve lost your goddamn mind.” But it is not a question, not really, and he knows that.

“Do you ever reck—“

“No, I fucking heard you.” It’s like he’s giving you one to grow on, to cover this upcoming year. “There's a book in your hands and he’s lucky he hasn’t caught it with his forehead. “Go take a shower, you smell like a distillery.”

“But—“

“No.” You’ve gone back to your book, curled up and into the pillow as he stalks away through to the attached bathroom in your periphery. 

He gets like this sometimes. Not lately but sometimes. Like he’s got some preemptive grief he’s trying to work through and part of working through that is ensuring that it’ll be needed at all. 

You don’t hear the water—stopping or starting—and you don’t hear when he comes back. For such a large man, he sure is light on his feet. It’s only when the mattress dips beneath his weight and the smell of soap and the coconut body wash you know he stole from you that you fully register his presence.

Rhett buries his face into your back and breathes deep, large, calloused hands sneaking beneath your shirt. His shirt. For a moment, you almost want to ask him if you can keep it when he succeeds in his agenda to push you away.

“I love you,” he mumbles.

“You could fool me about that sometimes.”

Another sound, more words muffled by the fabric pulled between his teeth as he bites down and pushes himself closer. 

“I thought you were over this shit, Rhett,” you say, staring down at the page that hasn’t turned since he came in. He was over this shit, these were never his words in the first place. These are the words of his brother; the words of the all the jackasses he’s never been able to escape. All these words picking at his deepest insecurities to give them life.

Some half-assed apology tumbles forward and his weight shifts until he’s pulling you over and around to face him and his bloodshot eyes. “Saw your mom today,” he says. “She said you might get promoted.”

“Might.” 

“But you’d possibly have to travel a lot,” he says, “and that’s not something you’d have to do if you’d have just stayed in Chicago.”

“I didn’t want to stay in Chicago.”

Rhett’s eyes close and he takes a breath before saying, “I always have and I always will stand still. I-I’m stuck here and you came back for me.”

“I adore you, Rhett Abbott, so I’m going to give you the kindness of my cruelty which is where I hope yours is coming from, too,” you tell him, thumbing away one of the silent tears slipping from the corner of his eye. “It’s a little hypocritical to suggest I came back here for you while your own insecurity has you accusing me of resentment. I came back here for me and you were such a large part of that, Rhett, you were. I chose you and choosing you means choosing here and I don’t hate you for it.”

“But you should get to see the world, you’re not doing that here.”

“And I wouldn’t do that spending half my life locked in an office the size of a broom closet in some high rise in a big city just so I can pay rent and die alone either.” 

There’s rawness in your voice as you practically scream it because you can’t do this again. You told him last time that it had to be the last time. You took his ring and made him promise that it would be. 

“I'll be better for you,” he promises. He practically pleads. “I’ll do better for you.”

“But I don’t know what you mean by that,” you tell him. “Doing better for me is putting these thoughts out of your head and having the confidence in me that I am making decisions with my eyes open.”

“But I could be different for you,” he says. There’s no telling how much alcohol he’s had or how much is still pumping through his system. “I-I can—“

“I don’t want different, I want you. I live with you, I’m in love with you. If I wanted different, I would say something. If I wanted change, I would work with you to make it happen. I am fine where we are, I am happy.”

“But the promotion—“

“I don’t want it, Rhett,” you say. “I didn’t tell you because I don’t want it, I told my mom because I needed to talk through all the ways I didn’t want it without you doing this shit to me again. Why don’t you understand that?”

He flattens himself out onto his back, both hands coming up to cover his face. He’s still naked from his shower, warm from the water and the beer and just the fact that he is. Always so warm, a comforting blanket and the only person you ever want.

Pushed up and on your knees, you stare down at him. “Rhett, I was really depressed when I wasn’t here.”

“What does that—“

“Doesn’t matter because I didn’t want you to see me like that, I didn’t want to be like that. You’re not some static creature firmly planted into the ground with petrified roots and you’re not a bear trap holding me in your jaws either.” 

He relaxes. There’s always some point that he does when all the tension melts out of him and he’s no longer a board but your boy again. “I want you to stop drinking about this shit.”

He mumbles that he knows as he sits up, back pressed up against the headboard. “I think you want me to stop drinking altogether.”

Reaching out, you wipe another stray tear off of his cheek. “I’m in love with you but I didn’t come back for you and I’m not staying because of you.”

A beat passes and then he pushes his hair back while laughing. A pitiful ass fucking sound. “And to think I spent all day out in the pasture thinking about being between your legs. I didn’t even mean to go out fucking drinking, I just had to pick up feed, ran into your mama and ended up there.” 

“Didn't answer your phone,” you add, “didn't apologize at all—“

“I'm sorry, honey.”

“Don't honey me, Rhett Abbott,” you tell him, “and you’re damn right you’ll be between my legs. You have a lot more apologizing to do than just that pitiful shit.” 

Rhett twitches, his muscles flexing of their own accord beneath his smooth skin, and he groans. “You wanna do it right now?”

Your head shakes. "Maybe I would’ve if you’d come home on time,” you tell him, stretching out beside him. “These conversations take all my energy.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Do it again and I won’t even let you sleep in here.” 

He laughs and it only makes him twitch again against his stomach.

“I'm serious, Rhett,” you tell him, glancing over the fact that you’re fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. “But I don’t like being mad at you, I don’t like being jealous and I know that you have a lot of jealousy and I don’t like that either.”

And even that makes him twitch.

“I like being here with you,” you go on, lips dragging across the skin of his rib; over the tattoo of your name he never told you he was getting. “And if I came back for anything, it was for this massive dick.”

Twitches. Again.

Which makes him cover himself, one massive hand cupping over his length. “Now you’re just teasing me, sweetheart.” 

“You broke my heart when you walked your scrawny little ass in here and asked me if I hate you for making me stand still, so I think I’m entitled to it.”

“I just think about all the things you could be doing and all the things you have done, you know?” Rhett shifts his body back down the bed to lay flat beside you and turns until he’s facing you. “I'm just some dumb cowboy who can barely operate a toaster.”

“And it’s the best damn toast I’ve ever had.”

This conversation has gotten off the rails now and, truthfully, the hurt it caused to begin with has faded. All to leave two tired bodies next to one another, nose to nose with nothing but your own clothes between you.

“Touch yourself,” you tell him.

“I want to touch you,” he responds, followed by a promise that it doesn’t have to be much; that he just wants to hold your hand.

His eyes are just innocent enough to believe, pulling you in until his lips are on yours. Because that’s also how this works. He says something hurtful out of insecurity, betraying the insecurity he has in your relationship because he doesn’t believe he’s good enough. He takes his slap on the wrist, the talking down, and then he curls into and around you. Some sort of protection as if he needs the closeness of the night to convince him.

“Can I just be inside of you?” He finally asks, fingers creeping over the elastic waistband of your panties. “Please?”

“There it is,” you tease. “You know you can just ask to fall asleep inside of me, you don’t have to make me sad to do it.” 

Guilt flashes across his face, so heavy with the day and the work and this on every feature, before he smiles. “Is that a yes?”

He doesn’t wait a second longer as soon as the word yes starts to form in your mouth, doing his best to pull the soft material down and off of you with the help of your twisting hips. Then he pushes inside, easy the way it always is for him. 

As he settles, lips mouthing at your pulse point, he says, “will you tell me again? Just one more time?”

“I'm in love with you, Rhett Abbott,” you indulge him, “and if I have to be caught between somebody’s teeth, I’d rather it be yours than job’s or anybody else for that matter.”

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I'm sorry.”

“Clean the cow shit out of my rug and then I’ll accept the apology.” 

[magniloquent-raven]

the devil ain't a beast

Day 1 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it: Found Family

(read on ao3)

**

Dear Steve,

If you’re reading this, I better be dead. I told you assholes not to open

It’s okay that you guys couldn't

Hey,

It’s weird writing this while you’re sitting right over there

Steve,

I just…wanted to say thank you. I never said it, after you stood up to Billy for me. For Lucas. I should have.

Thank you.

Not just for what you did that night, but everything after that. All the little things. The free movies and driving all of us around and letting me poach quarters out of your glove box (I know you noticed). I know I’m about to die so Maybe it’s stupid to be thinking about some change and a back entrance into the theatre when I’m under the circumstances, but it’s more about the fact that you didn’t have to do any of it.

I know Dustin strong-armed you into helping with the whole D’art situation, but after that you kept choosing to hang out with us, when I’m sure you could’ve found better things to do.

So. I hope you don’t mind that we all kind of see you as a big brother, because we do. I do. It was nice knowing what it’s like for people who aren’t scared to care about their siblings.

When Billy died I’m sorry for pulling away after Starcourt I couldn’t even handle losing the brother I sort of hated, so

Please keep looking after Lucas for me.

-Max

Billy never really learned to keep his nose out of other people’s business.

Maybe this will finally teach him.

The letter falls from his numb fingers, floating back into place on Steve’s desk, light as air and landing silently.

His grip on the page left it crumpled, wrinkled, sweaty fingerprints dented into the blank space below Max’s last words for Steve. Damning evidence that he’s been snooping around, not that Steve would normally care. What’s mine is yours, he said. And so far it seems he meant it.

The words leave a bitter taste in his mouth now.

But he never wanted Max to be his sister, did he. He always said as much. To anyone who would listen, including Max herself. It’s not surprising that she decided to replace him with someone better. His stare goes glassy, scattered papers and trophies and the yellow lamp all blur. His eyes sting.

He has no right to be hurt over this. It shouldn’t hit him like a punch in the gut, but it has, and he aches all over, swaying, nauseated.

And there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. That’s the worst part. He can’t make it better, there’s no fixing this, no patching things up with Max, no going back in time and beating the shit out of himself before he can ruin everything.

No one wanted to tell him, at first. After he clawed his way out of a fissure in the ground, blood and dirt under his nails, and scared the shit out of all of Max’s little nerd friends. She was conspicuously missing, and no one would tell him why.

Being trapped in hell for eight and a half months wasn’t as bad as finding out he was two days too late to ever talk to his sister again. At least when he was being attacked by monsters he could fight back. There’s no fighting this. There’s no excising his grief no matter how many times he bloodies his knuckles.

The sound of the front door being flung open echoes up the stairs. “I’m home!” Steve calls just barely loud enough to be heard, muted by exhaustion.

Billy goes rigid, tension coiling up his spine. It’s usually a relief when Steve comes back, after the quiet, the boredom of being cooped up in an empty house all day. He’s a bright spot, a comforting presence…

It’s not hard to see why Max preferred him.

Billy lets out a slow breath, and swipes at the wetness on his cheeks.

Familiar anger bubbles up in the back of his throat. So familiar it’s almost comforting. He’d rather be angry than blubbering like a child, wallowing in misery.

He’s tired of being second best. Never the favourite, never good enough.

He can’t do anything about how fucking inadequate he was, he can’t ever change enough to make it right, so what’s the fucking point, what’s the point of any of this.

It’s pressure behind his eyes now, tears blurring with something else, that rage that threatens to blind him. He can feel it in his fingertips, and coiled like a snake between his ribcage.

He has to get out. He has to just. Go. Before he breaks another thing that can’t be fixed.

He doesn’t look at Steve, doesn’t listen to his confused stuttering, and he barely feels their shoulders collide as he pushes past him, out the door.