#SORRY THAT THIS IS THREE TIMES THE LENGTH OF A NORMAL CHAPTER | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amethystwrytes · 1 month ago

Text

Safe. (Part Three)

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem. Reader x Lee Minho

Summary: A broke ER Nurse offers up her services to a large crime organization in exchange for much higher pay and benefits that are unconventional, but lucrative. The life proves to be questionable at best, and downright isolating at worst which leaves her feeling unsure, unstable and dangerous.

Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit depictions of sex (some chapters will be more explicit than others sexually). Violence. Blood. Trauma injuries. (Organized) Crime. Emotional manipulation. Discussion of murder and physical assault. Medical inaccuracy galore. Smoking. Past addiction. 18+ Only.

Chapter WC: 5.5k

Read Part One and Part Two here.

~ PART THREE ~

“Okay, let’s look at the options,” Christopher starts hanging dress bags around the room. “I think this red would look really great with-,”

“No,” you say quickly. You would rather give blood until you pass out than play dress up for a night out that you’re dreading.

“Oh-kay,” he blinks, then goes over to unzip the next bag, “This one is a lavender number, and I know it’s not Spring, but hear me out-,”

“No.”

Christopher looks like his eye is about to start twitching and his lips move into a tight line, “Did you maybe have something in mind?”

“Is there a black option?” you ask. Black feels appropriate.

“Black option,” he claps his hands together and looks around at his bags, “Of course there’s a black option, there’s always a black option.” He runs across the room and unzips another bag, pulling out the skirt of a black satin gown with a slit that makes you blush from where you sit but you said black - and if you refuse this one, Chris might actually strangle you with the straps of a high heel.

When you emerge from the closet Christophers eyes widen, “Holy shit,” he says.

“Don’t start,” you roll your eyes, then turn to look at yourself in the full length mirror. You do have to admit that it fits perfectly, it looks as if it was custom made just for you. The slit in the front is dangerously high, and the neckline is dangerously low - it’s a dangerous dress, you think. Which feels even more appropriate for the evening, you want to be dangerous.

“You look…phenomenal actually,” Chris smiles.

“Thanks,” you blush.

“I don’t do hair and makeup, but Jisoo will be here around 5pm to doll you up, she works at the salon Minhos wife used to own, she’s very good,” Christopher says, lining up some shoe options.

Your eyes widen and the very breath in your lungs seems to deflate, “Minho has a wife?”

Chris pauses for a moment and looks around the room as if you aren’t completely alone in the house. “He used to, she died - she was killed by one of Kims men when she was out visiting a friend. They saw the SUV and thought it was Minho.”

“Fuck,” you cover your mouth with your hand, “I didn’t know that.”

“Well you wouldn’t, it happened three years ago, and he never talks about it anymore. He was a complete mess for a long time, barely spoke, didn’t seem to give a fuck about the job anymore, none of us were sure if he was ever going to come around, a lot of the guards left and ran off to Kim of all fucking people. The ones who stayed were well rewarded when he finally started to put himself back together, but he doesn’t talk about it, he’s never been the same,” he shares.

Could that be why he reacted to your rejection the way he did? Is there actually some vulnerable piece inside him that hurts? You think about this long after Christopher is gone, and while Jisoo the stranger does your hair and makeup. You try to laugh at her jokes, carry on a normal conversation with the first female you’ve interacted with in months, but still, you can’t stop yourself from picturing a grieving Minho, his heart slowly turning to cold stone, uncaring - and for the first time since you’ve known him, you feel sorry for him, and you care about him.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

From inside the car that’s dropping you off you see Minho, Seungmin and Hyunjin waiting in front of the Casino for you. Your stomach drops, and a mixture of excitement and dread overwhelm you.

The car stops and Minho opens the door and offers you his hand as you get out, you try to keep it still so no one sees how shaky and nervous you are.

“My God,” he looks you up and down, “You are stunning,” Minho traces your jawline with the tip of his finger.

You shake your head, “Chris brought really beautiful dresses and Jisoo-,”

“Nuh-uh,” Minho argues, “This is all you love, and you look amazing,” he smiles and offers you his arm. You take it, briefly making eye contact with Hyunjin, who isn’t even trying to hide the fact he’s staring at you. You clear your throat and brush imaginary wrinkles out of the satin.

“You look pretty,” Seungmin says, looking anywhere but at you.

Your eyes widen, “Sorry…is there an insult coming or did you actually just compliment me?”

Seungmins eyes narrow, “Don’t push it…shut up,” he sneers before hurriedly skulking off into the casino.

You’ve seen Minho’s Mirroh Casino lit up like a Christmas Tree towering over buildings on the edge of downtown for years - though you had no idea it belonged to him of course until you met him several months ago. You’d never stepped foot inside, in your previous life you didn’t really have the time nor the money to be spending evenings in a high end Casino. Then, after you started working for him, your nights were spent bandaging wounds, taking inventory of items, and anticipating the next injury - the thought of going out so far from your mind that it never even occurred to you.

You keep mostly quiet as Minho walks you around, introducing you to people you’ve never seen, will probably never see again. You alternate between being awestruck at the extravagance of the place, politely making conversation with him and his associates, and pretending like you aren’t thinking about his tragically dead wife. You wish you could ask him if he’s okay, give him a hug - just do something.

“Can you find something to keep yourself occupied, love? I need to have a private conversation with Mr. Jung for a few moments, play anything you’d like, I have you covered Kitten,” he rubs a gentle circle on your back and kisses your temple before departing towards a set of stairs.

You’re not a gambler, and you’re about as skilled at Casino games as you are with open heart surgery. Which is to say, not at all. You stand in the middle of the giant space trying to decide, but probably just looking like an idiot.

“You look lost,” Hyunjins voice comes up behind and you and you spin around, happy to have someone to talk to so you don’t look so clueless.

“This isn’t really my scene,” you chuckle, fidgeting with your hands.

“I didn’t want to comment on it before, but, when you got out of that car you took my breath away,” he smiles, “I’ve never seen someone look so beautiful,” he whispers.

You look at him, “Be careful, I’ve been glued to Minho all night and I don’t need anyone in here reporting to him that the second his back is turned I’m falling all over you,” you warn him.

“You’re probably right, but I’ve got a slew of new ideas for sketches, this dress should be illegal,” he grins.

“Hyunjin,” your voice is a warning, you lower your voice, “I’ve been thinking about what happened the other night, the kiss,” you say quietly.

“And?”

“I feel safe with you,” you tell him honestly, “you’re the first person I’ve come across since starting all this that I’m not afraid of, that makes me smile, when you walk into view all my tension relaxes, and I know as long as you’re there everything will be okay. That’s how you make me feel. All I want is for you to wrap your arms around me and hold me and just exist in that feeling.”

“Why do I feel a but coming?” he sighs, pretending to be interested in a coin machine.

“But…I can’t just waltz up to Minho and tell him I can’t be his plus one, and that I can’t continue,” you scoff, trying to think of a word that described your relationship, “Can’t continue whatever the fuck he and I are doing, because I have feelings for you. Can you imagine how that will turn out?”

“I get that,” Hyunjin nods, “but I want you to know that I care about you deeply, I’m enamored with you, I think about you all the time, and I’m fine just being grateful for every second alone I might get with you. I don’t care if I have to keep it to myself, I keep so much shit a secret that it’s just my normal state of mind at this point, I can keep you a secret.”

You stare at him, wishing you could throw your arms around him and kiss him, thank him for being such a light in the shadows for you, and apologize for taking so long to see him, and for not being able to take his hand in yours this very moment.

“Blackjack,” he says, nodding over to a nearby table.

“Pardon?”

“Go play blackjack, it’s easy, and even if you bust every time Minho will take care of it. It’ll give you something to do, I’ve got to get back to my post, but I didn’t want the night to go by without me telling you how beautiful you look, or how I feel,” he smiles, “Have fun tonight, beautiful.”

You watch him go before deciding to take his advice and sit down at the Blackjack table.

To your utter shock you win four games in a row, and you find that you actually might be having a good time.

“Evening,” a deep voice greets as a tall man takes a seat beside you.

“Good evening,” you respond.

“Good fortune at this table I hope? ‘Cause I’ve been getting slammed,” he jokes and you smile.

“So far so good,” you laugh, “but I’m sure my luck is overdue to run out any minute.”

“Ah, that’s the thing about luck, it’s fleeting,” he says seriously, his tone makes you uncomfortable. “Especially when you’re friends with Lee Minho,” he adds in a lower cadence.

At this you look at him out of the corner of your eye but say nothing, you’ll play out the hand then leave.

“I will say that it’s nice to see him out and about with someone, we all figured he’d get tired of the blowjobs from Han Jisungs adorable little mouth at some point,” he chuckles darkly, and you nearly gasp at his audacity. “I have to say, you’re an absolute vision, how much is he paying you for the evening?”

“I’m not being paid to be here you asshole,” you spit, “and you are playing a very dangerous game,” you warn. When the dealer flips her cards you’ve lost, and you get up from the table.

“Sit down, ___, we’re just having a chat,” he motions you with his fingers and something in his voice sounds so incredibly dangerous that you’re afraid to defy him.

“How do you know my name?”

“I know everything about everyone,” the man grins, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke in your face, you fan it away and look at your cards, “I know your name. I know that until four months ago you were working your ass off at the Anam Hospital until you found Lee bleeding in the parking lot, refusing to go into the emergency room, and you broke every rule in your precious book while you stole medical supplies and treated him in a van in the lot.”

“Then I guess you already knew I wasn’t a paid escort, so either you’re just a fucking loser trying to insult me or you got a point to make with all this precious info - so make it,” you bite back.

The man chuckles and takes another puff, “I like you. Know why? You got a mouth on you, despite being so fucking scared all the time - don’t deny it,” he shoots you a look when you start to argue, “You’re scared to death of what your life has become, I can smell the fear on you, but that mouth of yours doesn’t know when to quit huh?”

“Must be the nurse in me,” you spit, “Do you want something? You got a rash or a burning sensation you need treated? Otherwise I’d like to go do literally anything else than sit here next to you.”

“Don’t worry, I need to get back to my own date over there,” he points and you follow the line to see a pretty woman staring at him from across the room looking like she wants to leave, same, you think.

“Then go,” you tell him.

“I just want to know one thing,” he asks, throwing his cards down as he stands up, “Do you love each other?

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“What do you care?” you demand instead of answering the ridiculous question.

He smiles and snubs his cigarette out, “So that’s a no,” he laughs, “Good. I won’t feel so bad then,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets and sauntering off with a shit eating grin.

“Who are you?”

The man just laughs and without looking back says, “I’ll be seeing you.”

You watch as he approaches his pretty date and kisses her, then leads her toward the exit. You have zero time to think about the insane conversation before you feel someone's hand come down on your arm.

“Get up,” Hyunjins voice is low and nervous.

“Oh - okay? What-,”

“You were just speaking to Kim fucking Taehyung,” Hyunjin spits.

“That was him? Oh shit…I didn’t know, Hyunjin I didn’t…”

“Did you tell him anything that he can use against us?” Hyunjin asks urgently.

“No! I barely said anything, he was just an asshole, I didn’t say anything!”

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” Hyunjin shakes his head.

“Is Minho angry with me?” you’re scared again, and Kim Taehyungs voice echoes in your head - can everyone smell how scared you are all the time?

“I don’t know,” Hyunjin stops you in front of two giant mahogany doors that presumably lead into Minhos private office. “Go on. It’ll all be okay.”

You slide through the door Hyunjin opens for you and feel it shut with a heavy thud. Minho is alone, pouring two drinks and bringing them over to a lavish sitting area. You stay frozen to the spot, unsure of what’s to come.

“Well, sit down,” he gestures to the sofa and you slowly make your way over, gently setting yourself on the cushion, unable to find any comfortable position.

Minho hands you one of the glasses of amber liquid and you’re happy to have something to do with your hands.

“Hyunjin told you who you were just speaking with?” he asks, sipping his own glass.

You nod, “He said it was Kim Taehyung, but Minho you must believe me when I tell you that I had no idea who that man was, and all he did was insult me, insult you, then walk away, I told him nothing.”

“I know,” he shrugs. “You don’t think I have microphones at every table in this building?”

“So…you’re not upset with me?” your voice sounds so small in the gigantic space.

Minho’s face scrunches up, “I really fucked with your head the other day, didn’t I?” he sighs, “No, ___, I’m not upset with you.”

You visibly relax with relief and take a long sip of scotch, though typically you can’t stand the stuff.

“Kim Taehyung and I have an exceptionally brutal, bloody history,” Minho explains, and you remember Christophers story about his wife being killed by Kims men. “We go through wanes and waxes of feuds, the fact that he had the audacity to walk into my Casino tonight tells me we’re about to march into another period of fighting for territory in the city, but I’m no longer interested in trying to negotiate or spill the blood of our guys - this time I’m going to kill him, or be killed, but I swear to God, it will end with one of us dead,” he says so coldly, so resolutely that it sends chills down your spine.

“Minho…” you say his name, a sadness on it that you can’t quite explain.

He looks at you from over his glass, that dark, wild danger seeping from somewhere deep in his eyes. It’s terrifying, but it’s also intoxicating. You don’t know what you’re doing, but you find yourself scooting across the couch, capturing the side of his face with your palm. You kind of hate that it makes you happy when he seems to melt into your hand.

He sets his glass down and pulls you onto him, his lips coming down on yours, hands tightly gripping your hips.

“Have I told you how delectable you look tonight?” he whispers, bunching the fabric of your dress up until you’re exposed from the waist down.

“You might have,” you smile at him, brushing your fingers through his dark hair, giving the ends a little tug.

He groans then lifts you up momentarily before dropping you roughly onto your back on the sofa. You watch as he towers over you, loosening his tie with one hand and downing the rest of his drink with the other before tossing the glass to some unseen place.

“Good enough to eat,” he licks his lips and stares down at you in a way that sets your whole body ablaze. You bite down on the inside of your cheek as you watch him lower his mouth between your legs. He doesn’t waste time teasing or playing, he just moves the ridiculous, pointless thong you wore to the side and wraps his lips around your clit.

You gasp, your fingers flying to his hair. You pant and try to stay quiet as he sucks and licks, the thought of a Casino full of people below seems to only fuel how hot the situation is.

“Please…Minho…”

“Want me to stop Kitten?” he smiles, wiping the wetness from his lips and chin.

“No,” you shake your head back and forth frantically, your eyes darting down to the hardness bulging behind his pants. You slip your fingers under your underwear and pull, he helps you remove them easily.

“My girl gets whatever she wants,” he chuckles darkly, removing his belt and unzipping his fly, shimmying his pants and boxers down his thighs. He hitches your thigh around his hips and lowers himself, teasing your clit with the head of his cock.

“Mmm,” you whine, screwing your eyes shut, fresh manicure pawing at his hips to bring him closer, “please.”

With that, he pushes into you deep and hard and you gasp, your back arching off the sofa as his hips thrust, snapping against the back of your thighs. He grabs your hands and pins them over your head, fucking into you like it’s going to fix every problem he’s ever had. You try to meet his thrusts with your hips, lifting yourself off the couch just so, and it ends up hitting the most delicious spot, you can’t stop your eyes from nearly rolling back into your brain.

“Oh fuck,” you groan, “oh fuck, keep going, right there…fuck.”

“You’re so fucking perfect, my perfect little slut,” he grunts, unpinning your hands. He slides his fingers gently around your throat, not squeezing but anchoring you down while he drives his cock into you like you asked. You can feel the whitehot pull in the pit of your abdomen, you dig your nails into his arms and he moans from deep within, he stills himself and spills into you just as you reach your own climax.

He continues to pump in and out of you slowly, your eyes meet briefly and he’s about to say something when the door to his office opens.

“Sir, Mr. Park has the intel-,” Hyunjins voice stops abruptly and you flinch, “Shit. I’m sorry,” he says and you don’t have to see his face to hear the surprise in his voice, surprise laced with hurt.

“It’s fine,” Minho stands and pulls his pants back up while you lay motionless in front of him, out of Hyunjins line of sight, “Tell Park to give me five minutes, and arrange for ___s car to be pulled around please.”

“Yes sir.”

You sit up when you hear the door close, grab your panties off the floor and slide them back on. This was one hundred percent you, and you’re torn between feeling disgusted with yourself, and also wanting to ask Minho to come home with you. What has gotten into you?

“I’ll come over tomorrow,” Minho says, and you wonder if he can sense your desire to not part ways just yet.

“Okay,” you stand, voice quiet and legs still wobbly.

“I don’t really let people in,” he says, “I don’t really want to, it’s not worth caring about people when you stand to lose them, but you’re making it very hard for me ___.”

You’ve no idea what to say to that. The door opens again, and you brace yourself to look Hyunjin in the eyes right after he caught you fucking Minho after bearing his soul to you, but this time it’s Seungmin peeking his head in, “Car’s ready sir.”

“Go on,” Minho nods to the door, “Get home safe.”

You nod and turn on your heels, Seungmin silently escorts you down to the car, opens the door for you and shuts it, all without a word, thankfully. You don’t see Hyunjin again, and for that you’re also thankful, though you wager that it’s intentional on his part.

You ride home, watching lights blur together as you get lost in your own thoughts. You don’t think about Minho or Hyunjin, you push those away violently. Instead you think of inventory, think of stitches, practice them in your head, and think of how you miss the hospital. How you miss the fact that between rounds, white boards, charting, and drama you never had a spare second to get lost in bad thoughts, guilty thoughts. At one point you’d have traded it for just about anything, but now you crave it. You want your old life back. Though you think it’s probably too late for that.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

You’ve just gotten out of the shower and tucked yourself into bed when you hear the pounding on the door. You look at your phone - no missed calls or texts. The pounding continues and you push the blankets off of you, wrap a robe around you, grab your phone and make your way downstairs.

You bet it’s Hyunjin, coming to tell you that he was wrong, that he never wants to see you or speak to you or even draw you on paper ever again. You almost open the door, but then Minhos voice in your head stops you.

If anyone ever comes knocking and they haven’t called first, tell them they have to give you the password before you unlock the door. Hellevator. If they can’t produce that specific word then don’t you dare open the door, and call me immediately.

Your hand freezes on the handle, “Give me the password!” you yell through the door, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest harder with every passing second of no answer. You unlock the phone in your hand and start to find the only contact you have saved in it.

Suddenly one of the metal chairs on the front porch comes crashing through the window. You scream, running towards the kitchen for a knife. When you dare to look back you see three men closing in on you, masks on their face, it’s the most terrifying image you’ve ever experienced. Like something out of a nightmare.

Foolishly you point the knife at them, but the nearest man seems unimpressed as he forcefully smacks it out of your hand.

“No, no!” you scream and try to run, but it seems like all you do is run straight into another mans chest, he turns you around, holding your hands painfully behind your back.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” you cry, throat searing with pain from the sheer volume of your voice.

“Shut her up!”

A thick, meaty fist comes down hard against the side of your jaw, you feel the inside of your cheek fill with blood almost instantly and you wonder if a tooth has been knocked out. Before you can process that, a hand comes down on your shoulder to hold you still against the man behind you, and the same meaty fist against your jaw comes down directly into your gut, knocking the wind out of you. Your knees buckle and the man from behind releases you, so you fall to the floor with a hard smack.

The men take turns kicking you in the back, the chest, the legs. The pain is so severe you black out every few seconds, only to come back to consciousness for another kick.

You’re not sure how long they do this. It could be minutes or hours, but finally they seem to stop. One of them bends down, grabs you by the hair and pulls your face off the floor.

“Tell your boyfriend Mr. Kim is waiting for his next move,” he laughs, then shoves your face into the floor violently, you can feel the blood seeping from your nostrils now.

You lay there, you can see their boots moving towards the door, shuffling out. The digital clock on the entry table says it’s just after midnight. You lay your head back down on the floor and close your eyes. When you open them back up it’s almost two in the morning. The house is dark, but you see the reflection of the refrigerator light glinting off your phone a few feet away. You lay your hands flat against the hardwood and try to drag yourself. Everything hurts, it hurts so bad, and you have no idea how bad the damage could be. You could be bleeding out internally for all you know. You try again, this time you move your legs just a little for momentum. It takes several tries before you move more than just wiggling your body.

Finally you make it to the phone, you unlock it, still on Minhos contact. You hit the call button and listen to the ringing echo in your ear.

“Hello?” he answers and you start crying into the phone in painful sobs.

“___? What’s wrong?”

“Help,” you manage to gasp into the phone between screams and sobs, the taste of salty, bloody spit covering your tongue, your lips.

“I’m coming baby, hold on.”

Then everything goes dark again.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

You hear the voices first, though everything sounds like it’s underwater. It’s when you feel the hands on you that you shoot up, screaming, flailing, begging them to stop.

“__!! It’s me! It’s Hyunjin, sweetheart please!”

“Give her a bit of space.”

“God, they really fucked her up.”

“What should we do?”

All voices seem to be coming from different people, or they could be coming from the same person, you don’t know. You don’t care.

“__, open your eyes, it’s alright, you’re safe now.”

Safe. The very concept feels so far away right now that you actually laugh. You slowly open your eyes and wince at the bright light. Minho kneels before you, an indescribable expression on his face. Concern? Anger? Horror? You aren’t sure. You can feel your back propped up against someone, Hyunjin, you can smell his cologne. Seungmin and Changbin stand off in the background, hands in their pockets, looking at you like…well, like you’ve had the shit kicked out of you.

“Can you stand darling?” Minho extends his hand to you, but you won’t touch it.

You shake your head, the simple act a painful one, “You need to take me to a hospital,” you moan, “I need to get checked out, everything hurts so bad,” you sniff. You feel the tears spill down your face, hot and searing against your sore skin. Even crying hurts.

“I’ll take you, come on,” Hyunjin says from behind.

“You can’t go to any hospital,” Seungmin reminds him. “Especially with her all fucked up like this? They’ll throw down every red flag they can.”

“He’s right,” Minho nods.

“I don’t give a shit!” Hyunjin yells and it makes your ears ring, “What are they going to do? I don’t even have so much as a fucking parking ticket to my name, detain me? Big fucking deal!”

“They’ll detain you, and as soon as Kims cops get word you’re in there, the only way you’ll come out is in a body bag,” Minho explains.

The mention of the Kim name floods your thoughts with the deep, guttural words of the men who did this to you.

“He said…” your lip shakes and you can’t get the words out. Minho kneels back down and grabs your hands with his. “They said to tell my boyfriend Mr. Kim is waiting for your next move.”

Minhos jaw clenches, though you suspect he knew Kim was behind it regardless of the message. He stands back up and drags his hand down his face, “Seungmin, call Chris. He won’t be on anyone’s radar anywhere, he can escort her to the hospital. Changbin, call Felix and ask him to take the others to the new safehouse and get it set up for her, this one’s dead, no one comes back here.”

Changbin pulls his phone out and leaves the room. Hyunjin continues to hold you on the floor, rocking you gently in his arms.

“Even if Chris isn’t on any radars, they’re still going to know what happened to her,” Seungmin nods towards where you sit on the floor.

“They can tell the staff she fell down the stairs,” Hyunjin suggests but to your surprise both you and Seungmin scoff at this.

“They never believe that shit,” you say quietly. “I’ll tell them I got mugged walking home, Chris was a good samaritan that found me and brought me in, he can go wait in the car until I’m ready to be discharged, but I have to make sure nothing is bleeding internally, those bastards had to be wearing steel toed boots,” you groan, clutching your stomach.

Seungmin nods with a sad smile and walks off to make the call.

“We can’t let this go unpunished,” Hyunjin growls from behind you.

“And we won’t,” Minho looks down at him with a lethal visage.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“What did they say?” Christopher asks as you struggle sliding into the passenger seat.

“I’m not dying,” you pant, resting your head against the back of the seat. “Three cracked ribs, lots of deep bruising, a few lacerations but nothing that can’t be fixed with some pain killers and ice packs.”

“Good,” he nods, “Minho and Hyunjin have been calling nonstop, do you want to call them back?”

You shake your head, “No.”

“Works for me,” he shrugs, “Did the hospital ask any questions?”

“Obviously,” you scoff, “but I told them the same thing we said when we got there. You found me mugged, that’s why I didn’t have my ID or anything on me, I didn’t get to see who did it but he was wearing a mask and heavy black boots. They asked the police to come in and I gave them my statement but you and I both know they won’t look very hard. Eighty percent of the cops in this town are crooked, they probably already know who did this anyway. I doubt I’ll hear from them, especially since the address I gave them I won’t ever go back to again.”

“Yeah,” Chris shakes his head, “I’m sorry sweetie, this all just…really fucking sucks for you. The new house is gorgeous though, if it’s any consolation, I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure it’s nice,” you say, staring out the window, “but I won’t be staying long.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m out, and I know I shouldn’t be telling you this but I really don’t give a shit. I’m done. I’m not sticking around to wait for those…monsters to come back and finish me off, or get gunned down on my way to the fucking grocery store. No. I am out.”

Chris reaches over and takes your hand in his with a gentle squeeze, “I hear what you’re saying, and I hope that you get what you want, but honey - and I say this with all the love - don’t hold your breath.”

Endnotes:

Taglist: @katieraven @linocz @screamobubbles @hpnsfwaddict @simpforleeknaur @the-sweetest-rosie @hyunjinhoexxx @aeri-skzver @mbioooo0000 @seungminindabuilding @moni-logues @shioriyametho @jamlessstars @tirena1 @bswrldd @chartrucewhore @yaorzu-blog all for wanting to be tagged!! I appreciate you <3 If your name is in bold I still can't tag you for some reason, so I apologize!!

As per usual, if you've made it this far, here is your virtual smooch! Thank you for reading <3

#skz fanfiction #hyunjin fanfiction #lee minho fanfiction #skz smut #hyunjin smut #lee minho smut #skz romance #hyunjin romance #lee minho romance #hyunjin x reader #lee minho x reader #Lee Know #Hwang Hyunjin

135 notes · View notes

greensagephase · 1 year ago

Text

Nonviolent Communication - Part Nine

Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader

Summary: You spend the weekend looking after Miguel after his encounter with the Green Goblin.

Word Count: 22,193 (I saw the word count at 16K on Friday and my face was literally the second photo on this post after I remembered saying in the last update that the remaining chapters wouldn't exceed that part's word count. I'm sorry if this hard to read because of the length, by the way. I thought of splitting it and doing two parts (9A & 9B) but... I'm just going with this.)

Warnings: Mention of dry blood; Mention of wounds; Mention of syringe; Bland hospital food; Miguel is a bit grumpy at times but who can blame him?; This chapter really shows how I'd look after Miguel if he was hurt, my simpness for Miguel jumped out a lot in this one

Music inspo while writing:

"First Date" - Bill Conti

"Near Town" - The Amazing Broken Man

"Feels Like We Only Go Backwards" - Imaginary Future (cover)

"Nonviolent Communication" - Metro Boomin, James Blake, A$AP Rocky, 21 Savage

"Mia & Sebastian's Theme (Celeste)" - Justin Hurwitz

Part Nine

Miguel whispers your name, and it takes everything in you to hold back tears as relief washes over you. Your heart races but in a different way than it did hours ago when you were desperately trying to find him. It’s now racing from happiness that he’s awake.

“Miguel,” you whisper with a gentle smile, standing next to him.

Miguel’s eyes flutter close for a few seconds before he opens them again, his gaze meeting yours.

“Calling…” he mumbles. “Me.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but you nod regardless. “It’s okay, Miguel. You’re doing good. You’ll recover soon, I promise,” you tell him gently. “Are you cold?” you ask, as you look down at the blanket you placed on him earlier after he was declared in stable condition again.

You feel a shiver run down your back as you hear the medical professionals’ voices in your head, repeating that they were losing Miguel. You close your eyes tightly for a few seconds and will those thoughts away. You can’t take it. You open them again and look at Miguel.

“Are you cold?” you ask again, pulling the blanket higher up his body.

“Stay…” he mumbles, closing his eyes again.

You stare at him, heart aching. You swallow the knot in your throat.

“I’ll – I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” you whisper, gently fixing the blanket to cover him. “I’ll stay.”

Miguel nods slowly and in a few seconds he’s asleep again. Tears roll down your face for the third time in only a few hours. You softly wipe them away with the back of your suited hand. You take a step back and release another shaky breath, feeling the knot in your throat grow. You turn away from him, pressing your hand to your mouth as you stare at the wall.

Ever since you woke up, you’ve felt every imaginable emotion in the span of a few hours. You feel emotionally tired, but don’t dare rest, especially after what happened. After losing him.

You take a deep breath as tears flow freely down your face, but you find it difficult to do so for a few seconds. It’s as if you’ve been holding back this entire time and you just can’t hold back the tears anymore, causing you to feel like you’re unable to even breathe. And of course, it’s a familiar feeling. One you’ve only ever felt with Peter’s death. You furiously wipe away your tears, but they keep falling, blurring your vision.

You finally turn back to Miguel, still crying. His relaxed sleeping face brings you comfort, helping you breathe normally again. You sigh deeply as you take a closer step and watch over him again, tears still flowing. You feel the urge to touch him, almost as if to make sure he really is there and it’s not just your imagination playing tricks. You tentatively lay a hand over his arm, layers of fabric preventing skin to skin contact but it still brings you comfort and peace.

Miguel is here and alive. His chest rises and falls softly. His heart rate is displayed on the heart monitor. You can hear his soft breathing. And you can feel his body’s warmth, which comforts you, as you remember how cold his skin felt even through your suit when you found him on that rooftop.

Miguel is alive.

You keep repeating this in your head as you stand next to him, your hand still over his arm. It seems to help you calm down and your tears slow down until they eventually cease, leaving your face feeling puffy and damp but you could care less right now. All you care about is that Miguel is alive.

That your friend is alive.

You stand near the bed for a while. You don’t know how much time goes by. The nurses come in and check on Miguel occasionally, finding you near the bed each time like a guardian. All the while, Miguel sleeps peacefully. He shifts ever so gently but he’s not restless anymore. You eventually take a seat on your chair again, feeling exhausted but unable to take even a fifteen-minute nap. You feel as though you must guard every second. Just in case. You do cover your body with a blanket one of the nurses brought you earlier, warming yourself up as the room is cold. You also fix a pillow they gave you to support your back and then you sit there and watch over Miguel.

You don’t even find it in yourself to use the tablet Ben Reilly brought you earlier. It lies abandoned on the table in the family area of the room. You simply sit there, watching over Miguel and occasionally looking towards the windows. The sky is grey and gloomy, but brighter now. The rain is still there, making you wonder if it’ll stick around all day. The pit pat of rain against the windows is heard through the room along with the heart monitor’s quiet beeping but your ears focus on one thing only and that’s Miguel’s even and gentle breathing.

As you listen to it, while gazing at him, your mind reminds you of the fact that for a few minutes, his breathing ceased. You see his unmoving chest in your mind suddenly; his body was completely still. He was gone. And for the second time in your life, you felt so helpless as you stood there, repeating “No” inside your mind. You remember saying his name, calling out to him. You wanted to take hold of him and beg him not to give up. Not now. You thought of his family, and though you fleetingly thought you had no right to, you prayed that if they were out there somewhere, that they’d tell him to come back because… you couldn’t bear the thought of him dying. You couldn’t bear the thought that this man, with so much life still ahead of him, could really be gone just like that. And then it happened. The medical team resuscitated him. His chest began to move, and the heart monitor started to display his heartbeat again. He was alive. He didn’t give up.

And it felt like you yourself could finally breath again as you thanked his late wife, Gabriel, and sweet Gabriella, for you don’t know what you would’ve done if… you can’t even think about it. What would life be like without Miguel? It’s about to be a year since you joined the Spider Society and so much has changed since then. You never guessed Miguel would be a constant in your life the first time you met him. He was so serious and distant. His mind was far away as he gave you a simple and cold welcome before he walked off, carrying the weight of the multiverse on top of an array of emotions on his shoulders that you could’ve never imagined he was dealing with.

You shake your head softly, almost in disbelief. It’s amazing how much can happen in one year. You went from knowing very little about Miguel to now knowing about his brother and mother, about his short time with Gabriella and his wife, to sharing cake on Peter’s birthday and eating conchas and candy on Dia de los Muertos to designing Christmas ornaments and welcoming the new year at his penthouse.

And it all started that day you felt so unwell due to your period. You find yourself wondering if any of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for that day. And the possibility that none of it would’ve happened makes you thankful for that day, even if you were in pain and discomfort because it led to something you never imagined.

Though you still have no idea how Miguel feels about your interactions, you consider him a close friend. You chat with him and Lyla when you organize the lab. You talk before the meetings start over coffee. You’ve gone on more missions with him than some of the members who joined before you have. You take him lunch sometimes when you head to the lab to organize it, and he happily accepts the empanadas, which you’ve learned are definitely a favorite of his. After the holidays, you’ve made him smile more and even earned yourself low chuckles, both a nonexistent sight and sound for everyone else.

And yet, neither of you have said it yet; that you’re friends. So, it’s up in the air between the two of you for now but you’re okay with it. You know it’ll be a while before Miguel admits it if he thinks of you as a friend, too. And you’ll hold back from saying it for as long as you can for his sake.

You sigh deeply and try to clear your thoughts before you check the time. It’s now past 8 A.M.. When you returned home from Peter and Mary Jane’s universe, you never expected the night to take such a turn. It seems unbelievable.

You went to sleep peacefully, under your warm bed sheets in the same bed you shared with Peter. You were tired and sleepy, and found sleep easily only to be awakened by your spider senses, alerting you something was wrong.

As you stare at Miguel’s face, this simple fact hangs over you. Your spider senses went off because of him despite being in completely different universes. You bring a hand to your temple, wondering how that’s even possible, but you don’t have much time to think about it as the room’s door opens. You turn around and find Jess and Peter. You get up quickly, pushing the blanket off you and turn to face them.

With everything that happened and your emotions a wreck, you never notified them about Miguel’s heart failing but when you look at them, you see it on their faces. There’s pain in their expressions as they scan your face, which shows signs of crying and exhaustion, and their expressions soften.

“Oh Y/N…” Peter whispers softly, before he quickly approaches, pulling you in for a hug.

You let him hold you in his arms and hug him back. You close your eyes for a few seconds, feeling overwhelmed but reassured at the same time now that they’re here.

“The medical team told us what happened,” Jess begins as she watches Peter and you embrace each other.

Peter lets go gently, though he wraps an arm around your shoulders, making you feel comforted. You give him a sad smile. Peter was the second person you were introduced to when you were first recruited, Miguel being the first one. And once you were accepted, you were introduced to Peter, who immediately presented you to his group of friends and well, the rest is history now. There are times in which it feels like Peter looks over you as some kind of parent because of the age gap. And it’s exactly how he’s looking at you right now after learning what you went through on your own.

“Y/N… I’m so sorry you were here alone,” Jess says gently. “I never thought…”

For once, the second in command of the Spider Society seems at a loss for words. You nod slowly.

“I don’t think any of us expected that… He was in stable condition already,” you answer softly as your eyes return to Miguel. “It just happened out of nowhere…” you add trailing off, briefly taken back to those minutes.

Jess nods and brings a hand to her temple, feeling an ache after the long night. The news of Miguel briefly passing away only added to it, but she feels a sense of relief as she joins you and Peter in watching Miguel sleep peacefully. Miguel is alive.

You feel Jess’s hand on your forearm, making you turn. She gives you a pained smile.

“I wish someone else would’ve been here with you. I know it must’ve been – hard,” she says solemnly, knowing about Peter’s death and what a toll it’s taken on you in so many ways from leaving you with no family or friends. She feels a pang in her chest for you, for she never imagined you’d see death again today.

You give her a reassuring smile. “I wish so, too, but all that matters now is that Miguel is in stable condition. He’s been sleeping peacefully,” you say as you take a step closer, motioning for them to join you, tugging Peter along with you as his arm is still around your shoulders. “He woke up a little while ago, it was just for a few seconds before he fell asleep again though,” you share but don’t mention that Miguel asked you to stay.

The three of you watch Miguel sleep quietly for a few minutes. It’s a strange sight to see Miguel O’Hara’s face so peaceful and though no one says it, none of you can help but feel heartbroken that it took this to see it.

Jess clears her throat, nodding and feeling relieved that Miguel is well now. All that is left is recovering from his injuries. She stares at him for a few seconds, feeling a little in disbelief now. She’s always warned him about heading out on missions alone at night, but she never thought something like this would happen. She’s just glad that… you found him. That fact comes back to her mind. The last hours have been spent figuring out how to get the system back in order and then directing members to find the anomalies that Miguel was dealing with, but it comes back to her at this moment when things seem to have settled a bit. She wanted to ask earlier when Miguel was first transported but she knew it wasn’t the time to ask.

She turns to you now, seeing that you’re still in your suit. Your hair is a bit of a mess after the search and the rain when you took your mask off to shield Miguel’s face from it, another gesture Jess noticed on top of you giving him your gizmo. Jess decides to put her curiosity aside. For now.

“You should go home. Change clothes or shower,” Jess says, making you turn.

“Thank you but – ” you start, and she raises a hand.

“Please,” your mentor says softly. “Peter and I’ll stay here while you go. Get a bag ready with clothes and toiletries for the next two days or so. Miguel has some recovery to do, and I trust you to do your duties as my third in command,” she continues. “Which includes sticking around with him while Peter and I lead the Spider Society in his place. If there’s one thing I know about Miguel, it’s that he’s stubborn and he’ll try to wave this whole thing over despite what happened. I think we all agree he’ll need to take it easy, and I trust you’ll help me with that.”

You stare at Jess and finally nod. “Yes, okay… I’ll be back shortly then.”

She nods. “We’ll let you know if something changes.”

You reluctantly leave the room but not before you take one last glance at Miguel.

“Stay…” he said earlier, and you promised you would.

You hurry and leave the infirmary sector, wanting to be back as soon as possible. In about twenty minutes, you shower and dress in normal clothes before you prepare a small travel bag with everything you think you might need. As you’re heading back to the infirmary sector, you notice there are a lot of members at HQ today despite it being Saturday and members having the weekends off, unless there’s some kind of emergency. However, the Spider Society’s HQ is buzzing like it’s Monday, and you connect it to what happened.

You’re surprised once again when you enter the infirmary sector. There are now a lot of balloons, flowers, cards, and baskets with snacks in the waiting area. When you approach the items, a nurse informs you that members have been dropping them off for Miguel. You smile softly as you look at everything, deciding that once you check on Miguel and talk to Jess, you’ll take everything to his room.

When you enter the room, you find Jess and Peter murmuring by the windows. Their conversation immediately ceases before they turn around to face you. You notice there’s now a table next to them with food and cups of coffee. You turn back to them. Peter gives you a nervous smile, making you feel like you were the topic of discussion. You ignore it and walk further into the room, gently placing your travel bag on one of the chairs in the family area of the room, your eyes already on Miguel. He's still asleep.

“How is he?” you ask, walking closer to the bed.

“No change. He’s been sleeping the entire time,” Peter says stepping closer to the bed now, leaving Jess by the windows.

“I had someone bring breakfast,” she says. “I think we all need some food.”

“And coffee,” Peter adds with a sigh, making you turn to see him.

You notice for the first time that your friends also look tired. It really has been a long night for everyone. You yourself feel exhausted now. It’s like your shower made every ache in your body known and as you look at the food, you feel hunger, too.

The three of you take a seat at the table, everyone reaching for a cup of coffee first before anything else. You eat breakfast, stealing glances at Miguel often. It’s like you’re still trying to make sure he’s there and that nothing’s going wrong. Breakfast is silent as the three of you look out the windows, deep in thought.

It's about twenty minutes later that you finish eating. Peter excuses himself to check on Mary Jane and Mayday, stating he’ll be back shortly. He leaves but not before giving you a reassuring smile on his way out, leaving you and Jess alone. The two of you stand by the windows, looking out at the city. You take a glance at Miguel. He hasn’t shifted in his sleep at all, and he looks peaceful.

Jess stands next to you, arms crossed over her chest, thinking. She doesn’t fail to notice your glances at Miguel, much like those during breakfast. And of course, there’s one pending question on her mind. After a few minutes of silence, she finally speaks up.

“How did you know?” she asks quietly, still staring out the windows.

Your gaze lands on a nearby skyscraper as you hear her question. You know exactly what she’s talking about and even though you wish you could pretend you have no idea what she’s referring to, you know neither of you have the time nor energy to play this game.

After a minute or so of silence, you sigh deeply. “I don’t know,” you answer honestly, causing Jess to look at you slowly.

She watches you as you stare out the windows, and she can tell from your expression and tone of voice that you genuinely have no idea. You sigh again.

“I don’t know how I knew… I was awakened by my spider senses,” you begin and tell her everything that happened up until she joined the search.

Her gaze is on distant cars as she hears you explain everything, occasionally nodding softly. It makes no sense.

“You also knew where to find him,” she says after you’re done. “I would’ve never thought Miguel would be there, considering we knew he was injured,” she adds, thinking about how you seemed certain about his location, not to mention the way you reached the building. It was as if your life itself depended on it.

Your gaze is still fixed on the skyscraper as she brings up this fact. “On the first mission I joined you guys, we went there – to get a layout of the city since it was my first time visiting that universe. It seemed that he liked the view. I guess, amid everything, I thought he would like to see it again,” you quietly murmur.

Jess nods, thinking. Your spider senses alarmed you that something was wrong, and it was Miguel, who was in another universe, in trouble. She knows it’s possible, she just doesn’t know how. She remembers the events from a year ago when Miles ended up stranded in that same universe, and Gwen realized it thanks to her spider senses, too. Now the two are a thing. Of course, Jess isn’t thinking that you and Miguel have a thing going on, but it does signify something to Jess.

You and Miguel have a connection, and it’s strong enough that you were able to sense his trouble even across the multiverse.

“It’s unexplainable but it might have just saved Miguel’s life,” she says eventually after a few seconds of silence, deciding to keep her thoughts about your connection to Miguel to herself. Instead, she changes the conversation to the anomalies Miguel was pursuing. They’ve been caught and sent back to their respective universes. She also notifies you that other members will be taking shifts patrolling your universe while you’re here with Miguel.

Jess sticks around for a little while longer before she heads out to attend to her duties. Once she heads out, you take the time to bring everything left in the waiting room for Miguel into the room, placing it in the family area so that he’ll see it once he wakes up. The hours go by slowly, and you eventually grab the tablet Ben Reilly brought you earlier. You reach out to your friends, who have been asking about you and Miguel’s status. You even reach out to Jess eventually, asking if you can help with anything else but she declines, and so you stay put. You watch over Miguel, fixing his blanket when he moves to make sure he doesn’t get cold.

It's until later in the afternoon that he begins to stir once again. You’re standing by the windows when you notice and quickly cross the short distance between the windows and the bed, standing by his side immediately. Miguel’s eyebrows furrow as he moves his head against the pillows gently. He hums softly as his eyes slowly flutter, and you’re unable to stop yourself from finding him endearing and tender in this moment.

His eyes open at last and he looks around the room slowly, trying to place his surroundings until his gaze lands on you. You offer him a small smile as he blinks a few times at you.

“Hey,” you whisper.

“Y/N…” he says trailing off, closing his eyes for a second before opening them again.

“How do you feel?” you ask, studying his face for any signs of trouble but Miguel looks in good condition.

“I feel a little dizzy,” he responds, blinking again a few times.

“It’s probably the meds. They’ll wear off soon – let me get the doctor, alright?”

Miguel nods before you use the call button. The doctor and a nurse shortly arrive, checking Miguel’s vitals. Everything looks well and as the minutes roll by, Miguel seems more and more awake. The professionals head out after explaining to Miguel what happened, including his heart stopping, and the extent of his injuries.

Miguel lays on the bed silently, staring down at his lap as he thinks about what the doctor told him. You stand a few feet away from the bed, giving him some time to process what they said. You can’t tell what he’s thinking or how he feels as his face is neutral but, on the inside, Miguel feels a little overwhelmed at the news that he was dead for several minutes. The dream he had, which now makes him wonder if it really was a dream after all, is also on his mind. He looks down at his hands, remembering how it felt to hold Gabi. How she forgave him and told him she would always view him as her dad.

Miguel sighs softly, closing his eyes. He can feel what it felt like to hold them again. He can see all their faces and remember their words about moving forward and having a second chance. And as he recalls their words, he also remembers how they kept telling him someone was calling him. He opens his eyes slowly and looks up at you, finding you in the same spot. Ever since the doctor arrived, you’ve been keeping your distance from the bed, as if you’re afraid that you’ll hurt him by being so close. He swallows softly.

“She’s calling you,” Gabi said.

“You know who,” Gabriel said with a small smile. “You know exactly who.”

You.

It’s you.

Miguel clears his throat softly, finding even that action slightly uncomfortable to do right now. He turns his gaze away from you, feeling heat on his face at the realization. Were you really calling him when he was dying – or rather when he died? Was his dream not a dream but – Miguel can’t even think about it now. He can’t wrap his head around it. Is it possible? Miguel has always been a man of science but as he thinks about it, he has no explanation for it.

You notice Miguel turn away, and for some reason it makes you wonder if he doesn’t want you around. You clear your own throat softly, ignoring the feeling of rejection growing in your chest, and put on a neutral face.

“Jess and Peter are taking care of things, which reminds me… They asked me to let them know as soon as you woke up. Do you feel well enough to see them?” you ask softly, fingers on your gizmo ready to send the message.

Miguel’s gaze turns back to you. He hasn’t even thought about the Spider Society until now that you’ve mentioned Jess and Peter. He thinks about it for a few seconds. He’s still thinking about his dream – he’s just going to call it that from now on – and he doesn’t feel ready to be asked questions or get lectured by Jess after her countless warnings about going solo on missions at night. He shakes his head at last.

“In an hour, please,” he says, and you nod, dropping your arms at your sides.

“Of course.” You feel a breeze from the AC turning on again. You nod at him, noticing the blanket on his lap. “Are you cold?”

Miguel continues to hold your gaze, realizing that yes, his arms are cold. He starts to move but you quickly walk to him.

“Remember what the doctor said,” you remind him as you now stand next to him. “She said to avoid too much movement for now until tomorrow, or even Monday. I’ll help you. Do you want me to cover you to your chest?” you ask, picking up the blanket gently.

“Right,” Miguel replies remembering the doctor’s instructions. “Yes, please.”

You nod and take a hold of the blanket, lifting it.

Miguel feels your warmth as you stand near him. It seeps into the side of his body, spreading a pleasant sensation that leaves the rest of his body yearning for it. On top of that, he’s unable to stop himself from inhaling your scent as you lean closer to lift the blanket further up. The moment is brief. You’re there at his side one second and gone the next, suddenly standing three feet away from the bed but your scent lingers, filling his nostrils. He feels the loss of your warmth almost immediately. The remaining warmness fades away and it makes Miguel wish there was another excuse to bring you closer, which fills him with great shame even if it's only human nature to seek such a comfort, especially in his vulnerable state.

Not to mention that everything about you is comforting. It always is. Your voice. Your warmth. Your scent. Your laugh. Your movements. Your mere presence and existence.

“Is that good?” you ask, ready to adjust it to his liking, oblivious to Miguel’s thoughts.

Miguel nods. “Yes, thank you.”

Mierda, he thinks as he shifts his head slightly. A few months ago, on Dia de los Muertos, he wanted you to push his boundaries. He hoped you’d ask him questions about his life, about Gabriella and the rest of his family and now he’s wishing you push his boundaries regarding physical touch. Miguel dismisses it as part of the medications’ aftereffects. It has messed up with his thought process enough that he’s wanting physical touch, surely.

He tries to distract himself by looking out the windows. It’s still raining.

“Has it stopped raining at all?”

You shake your head. “No. It hasn’t stopped at all.”

Miguel nods, still staring and listening to it, trying to get himself distracted until whatever it is he’s on fades and he can be back to his normal senses. It takes him a few seconds to remember you’re still standing nearby, while he’s there, lying in bed. He turns his head, wondering if you’ll be leaving now that he’s awake. He silently hopes you don’t.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” he asks gently, his red eyes meeting yours.

And the way it sounds, well, it tugs at your heartstrings. There’s a softness to his tone that makes you realize your impression from earlier was wrong, and that you jumped to conclusions. Miguel doesn’t want you to leave but there’s also a part of him that isn’t used to this level of vulnerability.

For all the moments and time you’ve spent together over the last year, neither of you’ve been in such a vulnerable state regarding health. Sure, there was that day you were unwell due to your period, but it wasn’t to this level, and it wasn’t him. Additionally, Miguel is already apprehensive about being vulnerable with emotional wounds, so you can only imagine how hard it must be for him to be seen with physical ones. And yet, the way he asks if you have somewhere to be makes it sound like he hopes you’ll stay. You remember how he asked you earlier to do so, while the medications were probably at their peak before he fell asleep. He may not even remember it now, or ever, but you won’t forget it, much like every moment you’ve shared with him. You smile softly.

“I’m where I’m supposed to be,” you answer and then realize how it may sound. You clear your throat, thinking you really should take a nap at some point today. You tell yourself to be more careful with your words right now. You don’t want to upset Miguel or make him uncomfortable when this situation is probably already too much for him. “Jess assigned me to be here. I’m to be – kind of like your bodyguard – until you fully recover,” you tell him, and the bodyguard part makes him smile a little.

“My own bodyguard, eh?” he says, still smiling faintly, feeling relieved that you’ll be around even if he doesn’t voice it. And though he showed no reaction to your comment about being where you’re supposed to be, a warmness spreads in his chest.

You smile when you notice his small smile, delighted to see it as always, no matter how faint it is. You nod to the family area of the room.

“You have a lot of gifts from members wishing you a speedy recovery. Would you like to see it?”

Miguel turns slightly. He noticed the balloons earlier, but he was feeling too overwhelmed to even wonder about them. Feeling much calmer now, he nods with that faint smile still on his face. You feel happiness rush through you at his response and nod before you walk over to the items. There are about fifteen balloons and even more flowers and cards along with baskets full of snacks. You collect some of the flowers and cards in them before you take them to him.

Miguel can’t help but feel surprised at the number of items left. If he’s being honest, he didn’t expect to receive so much due to his attitude and behavior in the past, especially the events related to Miles.

“I’ll hold the flowers and cards for you to read, that way you don’t move too much, and you can keep your arms under the blanket,” you say now standing next to him.

You place some of the individual cards next to him on the bed before you show him some of the flowers, gently pulling out a card and holding it for him to read. You do this multiple times with the cards from the flowers. Miguel reads them silently, nodding once he’s done. You go through all the flowers and finally start on the individual cards. You notice there are a few handmade ones from members who opted to apply their artistic skills, like Miles, whose card you show Miguel next.

The only thing you see is the front in which Miles took the liberty of drawing Miguel in his suit. You smile fondly at it, admiring Miles’s art as always. You’ve always loved the pieces Miles has shown you and you’re also very happy that he’s decided to pursue art school again. You watch as Miguel reads the card’s message, his eyebrows furrow softly as his eyes move across the card. Up to this point Miguel has nodded and smiled faintly with each card but you notice Miles’s incites this different reaction. He swallows softly and finally nods, turning away to look out the windows in thought.

You can’t help and wonder what Miles wrote, for whatever the message is seems to have struck something in Miguel as he continues to look out the windows. You close it carefully and put it in the stack of read cards, still thinking as you grab another one to show him but he’s still staring out the windows.

“Do you want to take a break? I can show you the rest later.”

Miguel blinks and turns around to face you. He shakes his head gently.

“No, it’s okay. I’d like to see the rest.”

You nod and show him the next one. Miguel’s mood is slightly different now. He smiles faintly here and there, and there’s no doubt in your mind that Miles’s card is still in his mind. You finally reach the last one and you know immediately who it belongs to. You smile as you show it to him. It has Peter and Mary Jane’s handwriting but Mayday’s artistic skills all over the cover. Miguel stares at it and smiles again.

“Mayday,” he says softly before you open it and let him read the message.

He nods once he’s done, that faint smile still on his face as you put it away with the rest. You carefully pick them up to avoid any damage, fixing them into a neat stack again.

“You also have some baskets with snacks,” you say as you now collect the smaller cards from the flowers. “Would you like me to show them to you?”

Miguel shakes his head. “No, it’s alright. There’s no need for you to carry them here. Thank you though – and thank you for showing me the cards and flowers.”

You nod. “Of course, no problem,” you say as you look him over. “Are you warmer now? I have this blanket as well, if you’re still cold,” you say remembering the blanket the nurses gave you earlier.

“I’m much warmer now, thank you. No need for the other blanket.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“If you need something, please tell me, okay? I’m here to help you,” you say after a few seconds.

Miguel takes a few seconds to nod, feeling a mix of emotions. He feels guilty that you’re stuck here having to look after him because Jess asked you but he also feels relieved that you’re here. Still holding the cards in your hand, you decide to move them to the table in the family area.

“You must be tired,” he comments, wondering if you’ve even slept as his eyes follow you.

“I’m not,” you respond gently as you place the cards down on the table.

“If you want to go home and rest, you should,” he says as he looks down.

You sigh softly, knowing where this is going. You turn around to face him, finding him looking down at his body, covered in the blanket you placed over him. He looks up, as if sensing your gaze on him.

“I’m not only here because Jess asked me to,” you start, standing still. You briefly think about how only a few hours ago you were just thinking about how neither of you’ve said what you’re about to admit to him. You didn’t realize you’d be saying it today. “I’m here because I want to – because you’re my friend and this is what friends do,” you continue, keeping your tone as casual as possible as you hold each other’s gazes, though your tone is full of sincerity. “And you don’t have to feel the same way or say anything right now. Just – just know I’m here for you,” you continue softly, repeating the same words you told him for the first time on Dia de los Muertos night, when he apologized for keeping you up and taking you away from chores. You wanted to say more that night, like how you didn’t mind stopping what you were doing to join him because you wanted to spend more time with him. Except you couldn’t say more that night. It was still too soon, and maybe it still is for Miguel but a part of you wants him to know. That you’d be here regardless of Jess asking you because you wish to be here if he allows it. “It’s not an inconvenience to me, if that’s what you’re thinking. So, please – please let me stick around,” you add much quietly as you hold his gaze. Heat rises to your face, and you feel like wincing at your own words because you understand the gravity of them. You’ve never asked anything of him but here you are now, asking him to let you stay with him. To let you look over him, cover his cold body, keep him company as he recovers, and do much more if he lets you help him because all you want is for Miguel to be well again but you also know that this isn’t easy for him and that you’re asking for something that he might not be comfortable with. Your heart races as you wait for his response.

Miguel holds your gaze, noticing the wincing at your own words but he knows you well enough to know it’s not from regret. No, Miguel knows that you’re always so understanding, so respectful of his boundaries, never pushing or asking and that’s what made you wince; that you’re asking for something from him. Your words and reaction sink in. And Miguel wishes he could reciprocate your words about considering him a friend out loud, but he cannot, not yet even though you are his friend. He can’t risk it, so he nods softly.

“I’d appreciate it – if you did. Thank you,” he replies with sincerity at last, with a small smile.

You smile back, once again happy to see him smile. You don’t mind that he doesn’t say more because with the smile and tone he used, you feel certain he feels the same way even if he can’t voice it right now. You know Miguel has a long way to go in fully letting go. Maybe one day in the future, you think, but for now, him letting you stay while he recovers, is more than enough.

“After you meet with Jess and Peter, would you like to eat?” you ask as you walk to the chair. “You must be hungry. I believe you’re clear to eat now.”

As if on cue, Miguel’s stomach growls and he looks at you with an embarrassed look. For once, it’s his stomach and not yours. You try not to smile and clear your throat quietly.

“I’ll ask the nurse if you can eat while you talk with Jess and Peter, alright?”

He nods, meeting your eyes. “That sounds good, thank you.”

You reach out to Jess and Peter once Miguel tells you he’s ready. You wait for them to arrive before you head out quickly to confirm with the nurse that he can eat now and thankfully he’s cleared. You head back to the room once they tell you they’ll take him food, walking in just as you hear Peter ask how everything happened and so, the three of you listen intently to Miguel as he explains. You can’t help but feel fury as he mentions the Green Goblin twisting his trident into Miguel just before the explosion went off, on top of the fact that he targeted the gizmo once he figured out it was important. You sigh quietly, wishing he hadn’t gone on his own. The conversation shifts to Jess, who briefs Miguel about several things like the system failure and how it’s working again thanks to the work of Margo and other members. He sits on the bed and nods.

“I’ll be thanking them personally but for now – please give them my gratitude,” he says softly. “Everyone – has really stepped up, including the three of you. Thank you,” Miguel adds looking at all of you. “I appreciate it.”

Jess nods and offers Miguel a smile. Peter grins at him.

“Any time, pal. That’s what we’re here for, right? We stick up for each other,” Peter says and Jess nods.

“Peter’s right. We stick up for each other and we’ll make sure everything runs smoothly until you’re fully recovered,” Jess says. “All you need to worry about right now is recovering.”

Peter steps closer to you and quietly mutters, “You heard that, right? Jess agreed with me for once.”

You stifle a chuckle and gently elbow him to be quiet.

“What are you going on about, Peter?” Jess asks with a frown.

“Nothing at all. Just telling my friend that the rest of our friend group has been wondering about her, that’s all,” Peter replies raising his hands in defense and discreetly elbowing you to back him up now.

You nod but say nothing, making Jess shake her head. “Alright you two, if you say so. Well – there’s much we need to do. The system failure messed up some files. Lyla and I are organizing it, so I’ll return to that now. Please listen to the doctor’s instructions, Miguel,” Jess says sternly, and Miguel raises an eyebrow briefly but nods.

“And Y/N’s instructions, too,” Peter adds with a grin. “She’s like your – personal bodyguard.”

You subtly elbow Peter again and he gives you a puzzled look.

“Anyway, we’ll keep you updated. Rest and take the time to recover properly. If you need anything let Y/N know. We all want you to recover and be back on your feet,” Jess says.

Peter and you nod at that, thinking about what you would give to avoid this situation completely.

“Thank you. I’ll do that… Do keep me updated on what’s going on. There are meetings scheduled for this week and the weekly reports are not done yet - ” Miguel starts but Jess stops him, raising a hand.

“We’re taking care of everything. You worry about recovering.”

Miguel frowns but Jess doesn’t back down. “Fine but I want to be updated on what’s happening though.”

Jess nods, satisfied with his answer. “Will do, boss.”

With that Jess and Peter say their goodbyes, promising to return at some point again today to check in. Miguel and you watch them leave even though you want to ask Jess something, but you decide to send her a message later instead. You want to ask her if you can help with the reports as it’s something you can probably work on while Miguel rests, but you figure you should keep quiet about it, or Miguel might try and help you and the last thing any of you want is for him to work while he’s recovering. The two of you say goodbye to them before you turn around to face him.

Miguel still has a slight frown on his face. The commander of the Spider Society is not used to being told what to do. You try not to smile at this.

“One of the nurses said you’re clear to eat. They’ll be bringing in food any time now,” you inform him as you step closer to your chair, picking up your blanket to fold it just as

Miguel groans softly. “What’s wrong?” you ask, putting the blanket down immediately.

“Hospital food.”

You chuckle. “I bet it’s not bad like the typical hospital food.”

“Hospital food is still hospital food.”

“I bet it’s better than my universe’s hospital food.”

Miguel raises an eyebrow at this, looking amused. “Perhaps but it’s still hospital food.”

You grin just as there’s a knock. A nurse comes in with a tray of food, immediately setting it up for him. The nurse asks Miguel if he needs assistance with eating and surprisingly, or perhaps not too surprisingly, he looks at you, not wanting to be fed by a stranger.

“Thank you but I’ll be helping him,” you inform them, and they nod.

Miguel thanks them before they leave the room, leaving the two of you alone again. He frowns as he looks down at the closed containers and you can’t help but find this amusing. You head to the bathroom to wash your hands before you return to his side. You grab a napkin and open it.

“I’m going to put this on your chest just in case something falls,” you tell him, and he nods but he doesn’t look enthusiastic about eating as you place the napkin on him. “Come on, you don’t even know what they brought yet.”

“I can smell it, and it doesn’t smell too good.”

You shake your head softly as you open the containers, putting the lids to the side as you reveal each food item. You stare at the main food. There’s steamed vegetables, chicken, and rice but it all looks a little… bland.

“Hmm.”

“I told you,” Miguel says grumpily.

You don’t say anything and instead pick up a small tub of gelatin that appears to be strawberry flavored. It looks like the most appetizing thing in the whole tray along with the two drinks they provided, apple juice and water.

“You don’t want to give this a try at all?” you ask softly, motioning to the food.

Miguel sighs, frowning. “I guess I have to.”

You grab the cutlery and offer him a steamed carrot slice. Miguel hesitantly opens his mouth, keeping his gaze on the tray, embarrassed. He can’t believe he’s being fed like a child as he softly bites down on the carrot. He chews, trying not to make a face.

“Not that bad, right?” you ask, and he looks up at you.

“Why don’t you try it, and you tell me?” he says grumpily, almost pouting.

You meet his eyes and hold back from laughing. You clear your throat, ready to ask him if he wants to try the rice or chicken now.

“No, I’m being serious. Try it.”

You sigh. “Why don’t you try the rice or the chicken now? We can drop the veggies then.”

Miguel sighs now. “If even the vegetables aren’t good, I have little hope for the rice and chicken… I’m not joking. That carrot wasn’t good.”

“It can’t be that bad. It’s just a steamed carrot.”

“Try it then.”

You continue to meet his gaze and he motions with his head for you to go on. You scoff softly and pick up a carrot with the fork before you slide it off to avoid eating from the same fork. You bring it to your mouth and frown as the scent hits your nose.

“Even the scent is off putting, right?” Miguel asks.

You nod before you chew and wow, Miguel is right. You grab a napkin and spit it out quietly.

“I don’t know how you ate that,” you say quietly. “You want some water to wash down the taste?” you offer, and Miguel nods trying not to chuckle at your response.

You grab the water bottle and notice straws were provided so you open one and slide it into the water bottle once you open it, too. You bring it to Miguel’s mouth, lining up the straw to his mouth so he can easily access it. He drinks for a few seconds before he releases the straw.

“I didn’t realize I was so thirsty” he says before he drinks more. You hold the bottle steady and watch as he nearly finishes it.

“I can get you another one. It’s been many hours since you drank something,” you mutter quietly. You look at the food. He hasn’t eaten anything in hours either and this food is unappetizing. You look at the gelatin. That’s the only appealing food item on the tray but his appetite won’t be satisfied with that alone.

Miguel leans back, releasing the straw again. The water bottle is empty now and he sighs in relief.

“Thank you.”

You nod and put the bottle away, thinking. “Would you be okay if I step out for – five or ten minutes?” you ask.

Miguel raises his eyebrow softly. “Is something wrong?” he asks just as his eyes flicker to your gizmo.

“Nothing wrong, don’t worry. I was just thinking – I can go to the cafeteria and grab you something from there instead. I can bring you empanadas if I can find some?” you suggest and you’re immediately happy you suggested this.

Miguel’s face changes. His eyes lit up and he nods immediately but then he frowns.

“The cafeteria staff showed up today? They have weekends off. They should’ve enjoyed their day off… And it’s not allowed to bring cafeteria food into the infirmary,” he says, and you scoff in amusement.

“They came in because a lot of members showed up to help. And I won’t get caught. Besides, what’s the worst thing the infirmary team can do? Tell the boss on me?” you ask as you start closing the containers.

Miguel watches you as you do this, with a small grin.

“If anything, I think he’d agree that this food is – a crime,” you say and Miguel chuckles before he groans.

“Mierda, that hurt,” he says closing his eyes in pain and you see his hands move under the blanket to his stomach.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you chuckle,” you say as you move the food tray away from him.

“It’s alright,” Miguel mutters with a sigh, opening his eyes again. “It’s fading away now. That son of a – he really got me with the trident.”

“I’m so sorry, is the pain subsiding now?” you ask worried, and he nods.

“It’s fading now, don’t worry,” he says softly, and you nod.

“I’ll go get you food once your pain subsides completely,” you reply, wanting to make sure you’re in the room until he’s completely okay.

After five minutes, Miguel nods. “I’m alright. The pain is gone,” he reassures you.

You sigh softly and nod. “Okay, I’ll be right back. I won’t take long, okay?”

Miguel nods and with one last look, you head out. You walk to the cafeteria quickly, noticing more gifts left for Miguel but you don’t pause to look. Once at the cafeteria, you put together some food boxes, making sure to secure Miguel’s empanadas first before anything else. You fix yourself a box so you can eat since you haven’t had anything after breakfast. Jess offered to take you something for lunch, but you weren’t hungry, so you declined but you realize you’re hungry now. You end up using your webs to secure the boxes together as you remember Miguel saying that it isn’t allowed to bring outside food into the infirmary. You also grab a few water bottles and cutlery, tying everything with more web and swinging the items over your shoulder. You’re about to head back, thinking how you’ll have to sneak into the infirmary sector with the food when you see the coffee station. You decide to grab some as well and when you reach the station you’re met with a lovely surprise.

There’s always only one coffee cup size but today there’s two. It’s double the size, or maybe even larger, than the regular cup. You can’t help yourself and end up ordering two of those. You haven’t slept in a while and you probably shouldn’t have this much caffeine, but you want to stay awake until nighttime as you suspect Miguel might not sleep until then. You pick up the cups and head back, having to sneak past the nurses’ office by sticking to the walls. Thankfully the coffee cups weren’t a problem.

You enter the room at last and find Miguel, still in bed of course, but the TV is now on. As you walk closer, you notice the containers are gone. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion just as Miguel turns around.

“Peter and Jess came by. Peter took the food with him,” Miguel explains, noticing your confusion.

“I hope he hid them as he walked by,” you say as you set the boxes with food and coffee cups on the tray. “Anyway, I got you empanadas and some sides, along with fruit. I also got coffee. There are new cups,” you announce and motion to the cups, larger than the usual ones.

“You managed to get two?” Miguel asks, his tone full of surprise.

“Yes, why?”

Miguel scoffs softly. “I can never get my hands on these even though they’re meant for me.”

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen them.”

“Everyone opts to get these instead of the other ones. I have these bought because…” Miguel trails off, meeting your eyes. “Not only do I like coffee, but I also need more caffeine to actually feel the effect. The regular size cups aren’t enough sometimes, but I can never find these when I show up,” he says with a slight frown.

You frown. “Oh - I never realized you might need more caffeine, but it makes sense now that you say it,” you reply as you look at him, realizing that Miguel is a tall man and very built, so of course he’d need more than someone within the average height and weight.

“All this time I should’ve been taking you two cups instead of one then,” you say, and Miguel shakes his head softly.

“Don’t worry about it. It does help me,” he reassures you.

“I’ll see if I can find these for you from now on,” you answer as you fix the napkin on his chest before you tell him you’re going to wash your hands again. When you return to his side, you open the boxes of food you brought specifically for him, showing him the empanadas and everything else before you get the cutlery ready. However, when you look at the empanadas, you realize this is a food that’s usually eaten by hand not with cutlery. You look up at Miguel, feeling silly to ask but you do regardless.

“Do you want me to cut these up for you or…?” you ask.

Miguel looks down at the empanadas.

“I can wrap the end in a napkin and hold it for you?” you offer and Miguel nods slowly. “Okay, I’ll do that then.”

You feel a little nervous. It’s not like you’ve never fed someone in the mouth before with your hand. It’s just that you’ve only ever done this with Peter… or used to. As you carefully pick up the empanada with a napkin and wrap it, you recall those days with Peter. He always liked to share his food with you, wanting you to try what he was having, and this always resulted in getting fed bits and pieces from him. You always reciprocated and found this to be an intimate act as you never did it with anyone else but here you are, lifting an empanada to Miguel’s mouth, who still looks embarrassed by this. You clear your throat softly, trying to dissipate the nervousness between the two of you over this simple and yet intimate act.

“They don’t feel burning hot so I think they should be at a good temperature to eat without burning your mouth,” you say, and he nods.

You watch as he reluctantly opens his mouth and takes a bite. His face quickly displays a pleased look and you’re unable to stop yourself from grinning at the different reaction from earlier.

“Not too hot?” you ask.

Miguel finishes eating, smiling faintly. “No, it’s perfect temperature. Thank you.”

You nod and bring the empanada closer to his mouth again. “If you want a drink, let me know. Or if you want to try the other food. It smells and looks good.”

As Miguel chews you notice a bit of a smirk on his face at your comment. You smile a bit before you look away and pick up one of the coffee cups, bringing it to your lips with your free hand. It seems that the nervousness between the two of you is subsiding now. You look up at the TV, an action movie is on. You turn back to Miguel and offer the empanada again. Each time, you’re careful no mess is left behind as you don’t want him to get food on himself but eventually you notice a bit of food in the corner of his mouth, so you put the second empanada down and pick a clean napkin. You motion to his mouth.

“You have a bit – in the corner of your mouth, here,” you say before you gently wipe his mouth.

Miguel’s eyes are on the food tray, and you don’t fail to notice a slight tint to his cheeks. You keep a neutral face as you clean him, despite wanting to smile as you find the action endearing but for his sake, you say nothing once you’re done.

“So, what exactly is this movie about?” you ask instead, deciding that maybe this’ll help calm him. You can only imagine how this is making Miguel feel, someone who isn’t used to such vulnerability even with you.

“To be honest, I don’t know. Peter turned the TV on, and it was already playing. I’ve never heard of it but then again… I haven’t kept up with movies in a long time,” Miguel admits before he takes another bite of the empanada as you offered it again.

You nod. “I understand, I haven’t either.”

Miguel nods as he eats, for some reason remembering that on Peter’s birthday you claimed you’d be going to the movies with friends from your universe. Except that was just a lie to hide your true plans and there weren’t friends involved either way. He remembers waking up the next day and thinking about how no one showed up. You planned to spend the evening alone and he couldn’t help but wonder. Sure, Jess briefed him on you before she brought you to HQ. She mentioned that you were completely on your own, with no family or friends but he thought there had to be someone, even if they weren’t too close to you but Jess had been right. No one called or arrived on Peter’s birthday. You were really alone in your universe, and he couldn’t understand why. He had wondered, did they abandon you when you needed someone the most or did you cut ties on your own? He just couldn’t and still can’t wrap his head around the fact that you spent three years completely on your own. He can’t help but feel that you deserved better. He can’t help but wish that he had found your universe sooner, so you could’ve had the Spider Society as a support system earlier.

And maybe, just maybe you could’ve been a part of his life sooner, too. Miguel clears his throat as this thought comes to his mind.

“May I please have some water?”

You nod and place the remainder of the second empanada down before you open the water bottle, slipping a straw into it before you bring it to his lips. You can’t help but notice the difference on his face as he drinks. His face is still missing its full natural color, but he has thankfully gained some of it.

Miguel eats all the empanadas and sides, along with the fruit. He also drinks two water bottles and asks for some coffee. When you notice that he seems to be rushing so you can start eating soon, you tell him not to worry, and to take his time. He slightly frowns but nods after you talk to him, his mind still whirling with thoughts. When he’s done, you eat as the two of you continue to watch the movie, not really understanding what’s going on but it has caught both of your attention regardless. At some point you remember you have the tablet Ben Reilly brought you many hours ago, so you grab it and look up the movie.

“This is actually the third installment.”

Miguel turns to you. “That explains a lot.”

You chuckle after you take a sip of your coffee, done eating. “It does.”

You resume watching the movie. It’s about five o’clock in the afternoon. The slow and peaceful rain is still going. The room has a somewhat comforting energy about it with the few lights on as Miguel and you watch the movie. His eyes flicker to you though his glances go unnoticed by you, as your eyes are on the TV. He has an idea suddenly and when he’s about to speak, he remembers he doesn’t have a gizmo. That prompts him to remember that you gave him yours when you… found him. He clears his throat as the memories come to him quickly.

He was out of it, his body felt weak and cold when he heard your voice. It sounded so far away until it became clear. He felt your touch when you cupped his face in your small hand. He remembers saying that you were there, and you thought he referred to everyone. In reality, he referred to you alone, for you were the last person he thought about before he felt his consciousness slip for the first time. Even in his state, he felt like he had somehow called for you across the multiverse because you were there suddenly, kneeled by his side, telling him that he would go home. Then, you slipped your gizmo into his wrist, not caring if you glitched and he wanted to tell you so badly to take it back because he now knew what it was like, and he didn’t want you to experience it, too. He didn’t get the chance to warn you though and you didn’t care. You didn’t care that you would glitch just to protect him from glitching again.

And Miguel’s chest fills with a heavy feeling now. His eyes soften as he looks at you, still watching TV, engrossed in this movie that neither of you understand. He smiles softly at you, his friend, even if he can’t say it out loud. Yet.

“I think we should watch the other movies,” Miguel says breaking the silence, and making you turn to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“The other movies?”

“We have nothing else to do… Why not?” he asks quietly.

You nod, smiling. You haven’t messaged Jess about potentially helping with the reports but you decide to leave it like that for now. You decide to take the opportunity to distract Miguel with the movies, seeing as he’s showing interest in them instead of trying to jump right back into work. Your reaction makes Miguel nod and so he executes the idea he had a few minutes ago. He calls for Lyla.

“Miguel! It’s so good to see you – you look – better,” Lyla says enthusiastically.

“Thanks, Lyla. I need you to do something for me,” Miguel says.

“You’re not allowed to work right now. Y/N, tell him he’s not allowed to work right now. He’ll listen to you.”

Miguel frowns and you watch in amusement. “I know. It’s something else.”

“Oh, then what is it?” Lyla asks with a raised eyebrow, intrigued.

Miguel asks her to buy all the movies available before he asks her to stream the first one on the TV.

“Hmm, this was the last thing I thought you’d ask me to do,” Lyla says with her arms crossed over her chest as Miguel and you start watching the first movie, looking puzzled. “Alright, you two, enjoy the movies! And Miguel, don’t push yourself. Take proper time to heal. It’s the order – from everyone,” Lyla says softly, looking at him with worried eyes.

Miguel faces her, knowing that this is the first time something like this has happened to him and despite being an AI and her attitude, he can tell she was worried. He nods at her. “I’ll be back soon. Make sure you do your job without driving the members crazy.”

She gives Miguel a grin. “It’s part of my personality, can’t help it but I’ll do my job, boss. I might pop by later when the other members are gone. Enjoy the movies!”

She gives him a peace sign and says her goodbye to the two of you before she disappears. The two of you watch the movies for the rest of the afternoon, pausing when the medical team comes in to check on Miguel, and yes, you hid the food boxes amongst Miguel’s flowers and balloons, masking the scent by bringing some flowers to the nightstand next to the bed so they wouldn’t find out until you got rid of the evidence.

A little after ten o’clock, Miguel yawns softly just as the second movie ends. You stand up and stretch, before walking over to him.

“How are you doing? Do you want a drink or maybe use the restroom before bed?” you ask, wanting to make sure he’s comfortable.

Miguel sighs softly, moving a bit. “I really wish I could get up and stretch,” he says. “I’d also like to brush my teeth.”

You nod, thinking. “I can solve the teeth situation but – I’m not sure I can help you get up without hurting you. Let me call the nurses, okay?”

“Let’s try it. Just – you and me. Please,” he says gently, and you can’t refuse with that soft tone of his, so you nod.

“Alright… but slowly. I don’t want to hurt you. Let me get the toothbrush and toothpaste first though,” you say as you go to your small traveling bag. In your hurry to return fast, you opted to throw a new pack of toothbrushes you had and your toothpaste when you were packing. Now you’re glad because you can give one to Miguel. You quickly take both items to the bathroom before you return to him.

The two of you work together to get him to stand up, and you succeed after what feels like fifteen minutes because you wanted to avoid hurting him. At last, however, he holds on to you with his arm wrapped around your waist at your request when you noticed his balance is a little off. Your own arm is around his waist, careful to avoid touching any of his stomach area. You remain like that for a few minutes, letting Miguel get used to being on his feet again. You ask him if he’s okay or if he needs to sit down again but he declines, telling you to give him a few more seconds. Eventually he nods.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

You silently hope this all goes well as you help him take a few steps. Thankfully the action doesn’t hurt Miguel nearly as much as you thought it would since neither of you are rushing. The two of you walk a bit in the area between the bed and the family area, with Miguel taking short steps. You wish you thought of bringing him slippers as you look down at his feet, noticing that he’s wearing standard hospital socks, but you decide you’ll ask for another pair so you can change them out once he’s back in bed. You also decide tomorrow you or someone else will need to go to his apartment to collect some items as he’ll still be here tomorrow.

At last, Miguel stands in front of the sink. He sees himself in the mirror and his reflection makes him pause. He’s never looked this bad and then he remembers, once again, that he died. The possibility that he wouldn’t even be staring at himself right now hits Miguel suddenly. He clears his thoughts and turns his head to you.

“You ready?” you ask softly, looking up at him.

“Yes. I think I can do it on my own,” he replies, and you nod hesitantly before giving him the toothbrush with some toothpaste on it.

He starts lifting his arm, but the movement makes him wince.

“I can help you,” you say quietly and after a few seconds Miguel sighs.

“You already fed me and now you’re going to brush my teeth,” he says but he doesn’t sound angry, he’s just embarrassed.

“And I’ll do more than that if necessary. If you allow me. I just – don’t want you to get hurt,” you say softly. “I know… This can feel embarrassing,” you continue as you take the toothbrush from his hand, guiding his arm down gently to avoid any more discomfort.

At your height, you can’t reach his mouth, so you climb up the counter, resting on your heels, facing him. You grab a towel from a stack and put it over his chest, tucking it gently into the hospital gown’s neckline to avoid getting it dirty. You lean closer and motion for him to open his mouth. He sighs and then follows your order. You start brushing his teeth gently, focusing on the task as you continue to talk.

“I know it can feel embarrassing. I used to feel like that when I got hurt and went home to Peter,” you start. “He took care of my wounds. Helped me shower and dress. Got me in bed and still had the energy to hold me,” you say quietly, your tone full of fondness as you remember Peter once again. “I felt embarrassed even with my partner so I can imagine what this must feel like when I’m just, you know,” you say as you continue to brush his teeth, carefully. All the while, Miguel’s eyes take in the sight of you this close, listening to your quiet voice as you lean closer, even ducking your head to get a good view of his mouth. He blinks when he hears your last words, knowing what you’re saying. That it’s normal for him to feel embarrassed when it’s you, his friend, doing this for him. “But I hope – you allow me to continue to help you so you can recover faster. I don’t like seeing you like this,” you say with a frown, which he notices, as you finish brushing one side of his mouth. You wipe the corner of his mouth softly with the towel. “So, please… if you need help with something, don’t hesitate to ask because of embarrassment. I’m here to help you,” you say as you start brushing the other side of his mouth.

He nods softly after a few seconds while you finish brushing his teeth. At last, you’re done, and you smile at him, drying his mouth from the water.

“Done,” you say as you rinse the toothbrush before you place it on a toothbrush holder for tomorrow. “Anything else you’d like to do before you get back in bed?”

Miguel meets your eyes, thinking about what he’s about to ask.

“Do you mind – passing a towel over my face?” Miguel asks. “My face feels weird.”

You nod, remembering. “I have these reusable cotton face pads. They’re much softer on the skin than a towel. Let me get them real quick,” you say and with that you slide off the counter and exit the bathroom. Miguel stands there, surprised at your offer but he doesn’t have much time to think anything else because you enter the bathroom again holding some round cotton pads. He watches as you climb up the counter again before you open the hot water and pass the pads under it. You squeeze the excess and turn to him at last. “Alright, you ready?”

Miguel nods again. “Yes, thank you.”

You nod, realizing some of his hair is over his forehead. You feel a bit nervous as you think about what you’re about to ask him. “Do you mind if I hold your hair up?”

“Go ahead,” Miguel answers softly, answering almost immediately, which surprises you a bit.

He doesn’t seem to mind, so you nod and carefully reach for his hair. You lift it lightly before you glide the lukewarm cotton pad over his forehead with a tenderness that makes Miguel hold his breath for a few seconds. You wipe his forehead, then his eyebrows. Your movements remain tender, making Miguel feel like he’s some delicate glass object that’s worthy of your gentleness as you glide the pad down the bridge to the tip and sides of his nose. You change pads and ask him to close his eyes before you glide it over his eyelids, moving to the rest of the eye area.

Your face remains neutral as you clean his face though your eyes take in every detail. From the flecks in his red eyes to his eyebrows to the lines on his forehead and under eyes. And when you reach the bottom half of his face your eyes trace his cheeks, jawline, chin, and finally his lips, wiping them softly to make sure you remove any toothpaste excess.

The entire process makes Miguel’s face feel warm, not because of the warmness of the pads but because of the closeness of this moment. No one has ever done this to him. And yet, you seem so unbothered by it. Like this is normal. You grab another pad, damping it with warm water again and repeating the process much faster this time. You let go of his hair and move back.

“Done,” you say softly as you put down the pads on the counter, telling yourself you’ll pick them up later to take home and wash. Miguel watches your movement and for the first time, he notices it. There are light scratches on your hand, and he instantly knows they came from his talons. “Are you ready to head back? Or do you need to use the bathroom?” you ask Miguel, not noticing.

“Your hand,” Miguel says still looking at it. “I scratched you?” he asks, meeting your eyes, sounding extremely bothered by this.

You look down in surprise, remembering that he scratched you a bit when you were trying to calm him down as he grew restless. It was hard not to forget about them, as shortly after that his heart gave out.

“Oh, yes but don’t worry about it. It didn’t hurt that much. I honestly forgot about them,” you admit, making Miguel frown.

“I’m really sorry. I don’t remember – when I did that. Not only must I’ve hurt you but probably ripped your suit in the process as well,” Miguel says, sounding regretful.

You shake your head. “It hardly hurt, really. I even forgot I had these,” you say nodding to the scratches. “And about the suit, I didn’t notice any rips on it this morning and even if there are, I’m sure I can fix it. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“I can have it fixed for you here. Or you can have a new one,” Miguel offers. “Same design, maybe with some updates if you’d like… But you should get the scratches checked just in case. I’m really sorry that I did this to you,” Miguel says quietly, and he truly does feel bad. He doesn’t even remember doing it.

You smile gently at him and nod. “If it comes to that, sure but we can worry about that later. And don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt. They were very light scratches, nothing to worry about. I promise,” you reassure him. “So, ready to head back?”

Miguel is upset with himself over scratching you, but he sees that you want to drop it, so he lets it go, too. For now. He’ll make sure you have a new suit because he’s certain he ripped yours. There’s no way he didn’t and even though he doesn’t know the exact reason, he knows you’re very attached to your suit. He sighs silently and answers your question at last.

“I need to use the bathroom, but I got it, thank you,” he says gently, thinking the last thing either of you need is for you to help him use the bathroom, too.

“Of course, I’ll be outside if you need me. Please take your time so you don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

He nods, grateful to you for everything but still feeling bad about scratching you, before you head out of the bathroom, closing the door after you.

You check your gizmo to distract yourself, noticing several messages from your friends asking about Miguel and his status, and if either of you need anything so they can drop it off. You smile fondly as you read the thread of messages before responding quickly to them, letting them know that Miguel has been doing well and that you’ll let them know if either of you need anything. You finish sending the last message just as you hear the toilet flush and then the water running. Miguel comes out about a minute later. He seems to be able to walk a lot better on his own now but he’s still moving slow to prevent any pain.

You offer to help him and this time he puts his arm around your shoulders, leaning just a bit on you. You successfully get him back in bed, finding the process much easier than getting him out of it. You tell him about changing his socks since he walked on the infirmary floor, but he says he’s fine without them, so you just remove them for him before you cover him again for the night. You bring the blanket close to his chest and fix his pillow to his preference. At last, he lays on the bed feeling much better.

“Thank you for everything,” Miguel says as he watches you fix your chair to sleep, wishing you’d go home so you can properly rest or for there to be something far more comfortable than the fold out chair, but he can already hear you turning down his suggestions.

You fix your pillow before you turn around to face him, giving him a small smile. “Always,” you say softly. “I’m going to use the bathroom. Just call me if you need anything, okay?”

He nods and watches as you pick up your travel bag before you head into the bathroom, closing the door quietly after yourself. Miguel turns away and looks up at the ceiling, remembering. Last night around this time he was in the lab, feeling restless but still working, not even imagining what was going to happen in a matter of hours. He sighs softly now, repositioning his head to get comfortable. He feels tired and he knows he'll fall asleep soon, but he wants to make sure you’re comfortable, too, or at least as much as possible.

You come out of the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing different clothes but not pajamas, though they look far more comfortable than what you were wearing earlier.

“The AC turns on a lot during the night. Do you want me to lift the blanket higher up, so you don’t get cold?”

Miguel meets your eyes and answers yes, his mind now shifting to how caring you’ve been all day, even sneaking food for him. He has a lot to thank you for, and he feels as though nothing he says or offers to you will ever be able to fully express his gratitude. You fix the blanket and even tuck it in a bit for him before you step back, giving him space.

“Is that comfortable?” you ask, and Miguel nods.

“It is. Thank you.”

You nod, smiling at him softly before you turn around and take a seat on the chair, covering your lower body with a blanket.

“You’re not sleeping yet?” he asks, noticing that you haven’t folded out the chair.

“I’m not sleepy yet.”

And you really don’t, probably due to the large cup of coffee you drank but you know at some point during the night you will as it’s close to twenty-four hours since you slept. Miguel nods though he frowns.

“Try to rest,” he says quietly.

“I will. Don’t worry about me. Rest,” you answer as you pull the blanket higher up your body, thinking.

Miguel nods again, closing his eyes, unable to fight sleep anymore. He ends up falling asleep about fifteen minutes later, his soft and even breathing filling your ears as you sit on the fold out chair. You watch his sleeping figure, the sight providing you calmness as you think about the day. Miguel woke up, talked, ate, and even chuckled at your comment about the infirmary food being a crime. You smile softly, staring at him. He’s okay. He just has to recover and soon he’ll be back in his lab, working like normal, a sight you never thought you’d wish for until now.

You stay awake for an hour more, watching over Miguel, before sleep consumes you.

Miguel wakes up about two hours later. He opens his eyes and looks around, his gaze stopping on you as he takes your sleeping figure. He blinks a few times, still staring at you. Somehow you manage to make sleeping on the fold out chair look comfortable. The blanket is up to your chest, and you hold the pillow vertically to your body, with your head resting on it and your arms wrapped around it. It looks as if you were laying on someone’s chest while hugging them. And Miguel can’t keep his eyes off you as your soft breathing fills his ears, feeling glad that you’re sleeping at last because he doesn’t know how long you’ve been awake for.

He tries to sleep again but it seems that sleep has deserted him and instead he finds himself thinking about everything as he watches over you now. He was able to avoid thinking about a lot of things throughout the day but now, there’s no escape from his thoughts. You’re not awake, there’s no Jess or Peter, or TV to provide relief from the thoughts that have been on his mind since he woke up. And there are so, so many.

First, there’s the fact that Miguel briefly passed away. It isn’t that he thinks he’s invisible. He has experienced too many losses in his life to know that no one is invisible, no matter how strong, how kind, or how innocent someone may be. Death doesn’t care about those things. He’s also not fearful of dying. It’s never been about the actual act itself. It’s always been other factors. Like how a few months ago he was afraid of the aftermath. About whether anyone would care or even show up to his funeral because of the way he carried himself; distant and detached.

Then, on Peter’s birthday, you led him to lose that fear. Now he feels overwhelmed for another reason. It’s the realization that he feels regret. If he was to look back at his life up until the moment his heart stopped, Miguel realizes he wouldn’t look back with satisfaction when it came to his decisions and way of living. No, he would’ve looked back and seen himself experience loss after loss, heartache after heartache. He’d see himself giving up and turning away anyone who tried to get close, leading to his lonely life with a few lapses of time in which he was happy before he’d lose everything again. His short death has made him realize that he doesn’t want to look back at his life, when he’s older or when he’s gone for good, with disappointment and regret.

There’s also the thoughts about his dream or vision, or whatever the hell that was. Miguel moves his fingers under the blanket, extending his arms out the sides of the blanket so he can look at them. He successfully does this without hurting himself and when he finally sees his fingers, he closes his hands, remembering how it felt to hold Gabriella again. How it felt to hug his brother and wife. The dream comes to him quickly, playing through his mind. A part of him wants it to be real, while another part of him feels that it was real. How could it be otherwise when it felt so real? When it made sense? His family’s words echo through his mind again. Everything they said. They want him to move forward. To take this second chance. To stop his current way of living. Miguel also thinks of the guilt he has carried for so long and because a part of him believes his dream was a real but short reunion with them, he feels relieved. Like a weight has been taken off his shoulders, especially after his variant, his wife, and Gabriella forgave him for his actions.

Another thought plaguing Miguel’s mind is Miles’s card. He tried to act normal afterward but he’s sure you noticed the change of mood in him. He began to read it, expecting well wishes for a speedy recovery or something of the sort, and yes, that was part of it but not all of it. For some reason, Miles felt that it was necessary to talk about Miguel’s actions when it came to their “disagreement,” as Miles lightly put it, even though Miguel wouldn’t dare dream of wording it like that after how he behaved. No, Miguel accepts that his actions and words were disgusting and even though everyone has moved on, he continues to feel shame and regret for everything.

For hunting down Miles across the multiverse, for trying to stop him from saving Mr. Morales, the same man who sent him food for the holidays because for some reason he and Mrs. Morales still have it in their hearts to be forgiving and feel concerned for him, despite knowing that Miguel literally asked their son to accept Mr. Morales’s death as a canon event, not to mention the way he treated Miles. Yet, Miles and his family, and everyone else it seems, have moved on – something Miles made clear in his card. With the way Miles acts around him these days, Miguel kind of knew this already though, for Miles continues to call him “tío” sometimes, a title Miguel hasn’t felt worthy of. On top of that, Miles went on and apologized to him, something else Miguel doesn’t feel worthy of and yet, the young superhero apologized, claiming that he had disregarded Miguel’s fear back then, and that even though his theory wasn’t perfect, Miguel was basing it from what he knew back then, from his own experience. All in all, Miguel hadn’t expected such contents in the card but then again, what could he expect from someone who continuously surprised him. So, there’s Miles’s words, lingering in Miguel’s mind.

Then there’s you. You were the one to say it first, to claim him as your friend. And hell, Miguel wishes he could’ve said it back; that you’re his friend. The one that never asks for anything and has remained the same throughout all these months. Always kind, caring, and understanding. Miguel sighs, wishing. Wishing he could say it, and yet he can’t because he’s afraid. Everyone Miguel has ever cared about is gone, and the losses in his life have led to a fear. A fear that the moment he admits out loud that you’re his friend, too, that you’ll disappear; that something will happen to you and Miguel cannot take another loss. He cannot risk it even when a part of his brain tells him he's being irrational.

Miguel’s thoughts are starting to feel more like reasons. Like excuses. Like signs.

Miguel feels like he’s going backwards. For the longest time, Miguel has believed that the best way to “move forward” was accepting loneliness, the lack of friends and family, and that his life’s purpose is his job – his duty. He also believed he put behind certain hardships in his life like his childhood and how his stepfather treated him, not realizing the truth behind it until he discovered that the man he grew up fearful of, was never his father to begin with but rather the man he worked for as an adult. Or how his mother always placed Gabriel on a pedestal, her words cutting through him each time she told Miguel he would never be anything like him. He never resented Gabriel, but he couldn’t say the same for his mother even after they resolved their issues years later. There are so many wounds in Miguel’s heart and while he believes that he has moved on, or put them behind him, the reality is that all his wounds are still there; open and raw.

But Miguel kept going, thinking the next loss or heartache couldn’t possibly be worse than the last one. It was. Each time. It just reinforced his belief that he was meant for this lonely life.

Now, there’s so many signs, so many reasons… Everything around him, all his thoughts, every part of him telling him to go ahead and get his hopes up again. To let himself go back to a younger version of himself that longed for so much.

For a family. For friendships.

His family told him to try and move forward. His variant told him to seize the opportunity, to find another purpose other than work. Basically, to not let the hardships of his life dictate the rest of it. Then there’s Miles’s card, forgiving him for the way he acted towards him. And finally, you’re here. Sleeping on a fold out chair that he can never imagine sleeping comfortably on, hours later after telling him that he’s your friend. Looking after him in ways he’s never been looked after, treating him like he’s worthy of your friendship. Like he’s deserving of this second chance and being able to call you his friend. So many signs.

Miguel sighs quietly. It feels like he’s going backwards, and there’s nothing he can do about it. And maybe, he doesn’t want to do anything about it, Miguel realizes as he continues to watch you sleep.

He lays in bed, watching you and thinking when his thoughts are interrupted.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Miguel turns to Lyla. “Can’t sleep.”

“So, you’re just watching Y/N instead…?”

“I’m not – what are you doing here?” Miguel asks frowning, talking quietly to avoid disturbing your sleep.

“Oh, don’t even try to deny it. You’ve been watching her for like – the last half hour. It’s weird, please stop,” Lyla says crossing her arms over her chest, frowning back at Miguel.

“I wasn’t… I was thinking.”

“Sureee, if that’s going to help you sleep, then go ahead.”

Miguel’s frown deepens but he says nothing else, his eyes returning to you, and once again, he wonders how you look so comfortable in that damn chair. Lyla joins him in staring at you and Miguel notices.

“Now who’s staring?” he asks.

“Oh, I’m just ‘thinking,’ boss,” Lyla says with a smirk, causing Miguel to roll his eyes. “But in all seriousness, I’m glad she’s finally sleeping. She’s been awake since three in the morning when she realized something was wrong.”

That peels Miguel’s attention from you to Lyla.

“What?”

Lyla shrugs, arms still crossed over her chest. “Yeah, she was awake since three in the morning and hasn’t slept until now.”

“No, the other thing. The thing about her figuring out something was wrong.”

Lyla’s eyes widen and she uncrosses her arms quickly. “Oh, you know, I just remembered that I need to do something for Jess. She wants it done by the time she arrives, so I ought to go because I don’t need a lecture from Jess.”

“Lyla,” Miguel whispers in a warning tone.

“Rest well and don’t be a creep, goodnight!” Lyla says before she disappears, leaving him with questions.

Miguel sighs, feeling annoyed that she avoided the question but now he knows. You were the one that figured it out but how? What were you doing at HQ so late? Miguel decides that he’ll ask you tomorrow, or rather later, as it’s already early Sunday. Miguel continues to watch you sleep until your soft and even breathing lure him back to sleep.

★★★

A few hours later, Miguel wakes up. He finds you sitting on the fold out chair, already dressed in different clothes and looking like you’ve showered. You’re on the tablet Ben Reilly brought you yesterday, eyebrows furrowed as you type into the screen.

“Good morning,” Miguel says, his voice sounding raspy and deeper than usual.

You look up and stand up immediately, leaving the tablet on the chair as you approach him.

“Good morning, Miguel. Did you sleep well?”

Miguel nods, closing his eyes for a second, getting used to the brighter light in the room. The sun is out today, and the sky is sprinkled with white clouds. The rain is gone.

“I did, thank you. What time is it?”

“It’s nine.”

“I slept too much,” he responds, opening his eyes.

“You need as much rest as possible,” you reply, observing Miguel’s face. He looks much better today.

“I guess so,” Miguel replies, looking at you again. “You look ready to start the day.”

You nod and smile. “I woke up about two hours ago and decided to go ahead and get ready for the day.”

Miguel gives you a small grin. “What are you working on?”

Meeting his eyes, you continue to smile. “Well, I asked Jess this morning if there was anything else I could help with around here. She assigned me to work on the report for this week.”

Miguel nods, thinking that’s something he always works on, but it doesn’t bother him that you’re doing it. If anything, it makes him think about something. And the thought grows as you grab the tablet and show him your progress so far. The layout is like the current one, just slightly different and he likes it. With the thoughts from last night still present in his mind, Miguel has the sudden thought that maybe he ought to let members do more around HQ. Maybe he should let someone else work on the report with him. Someone like you. He smiles softly as you show him, nodding. He’ll bring it up later, once he’s fully recovered.

“It looks great,” he says, and he means it.

“Thank you,” you say, saving your progress and putting the tablet away. “So, updates. Jess and Peter said they’d be here in a while. They’re bringing breakfast. The doctor came in and said she’ll look at your wounds sometime today to see the progress. Based on how they’re doing, she’ll decide when to discharge you. She also said you can shower today after she checks your wounds. So, would you like me or someone else to bring your personal items for a shower? You can wear normal clothes now, by the way. You just need to wear a jacket or something of the sort that can be slipped on and off if needed without you having to raise your arms too much.”

Miguel nods. “Yes, please. I really would like to shower and wear something else other than this,” he says looking down at the hospital gown. Thankfully he’s wearing his boxers underneath, but he doesn’t like how thin the fabric is and the AC has been constantly on.

“Alright, then we can ask the doctor to check your wounds after breakfast if you want. And then you can shower, which reminds me, the doctor said there’s a male nurse available. He’ll be ready to assist you.”

Miguel shakes his head. “I can do it by myself.”

You frown. “Miguel…”

“At least the lower half of my body, I can,” he says softly and looks away. “I may need help with my hair and torso but that’s it.”

“You’ll let the nurse help you with the rest though, right? You’ll hurt yourself if you try to do it alone.”

Miguel continues to look away. The thought of a stranger, despite being his employee, makes him feel weird, and not because it’s a man. He doesn’t want a stranger to touch him. He sighs and you know why.

“Would you be – more comfortable with one of us helping you?” you ask lowly.

Miguel’s eyes shift to you. There’s Jess, Peter, and you as his options.

You shrug a bit. “I don’t mind. And I’m sure neither would Peter and Jess if you ask them.”

Miguel nods slowly. “I hate to ask…”

You stare at him, swallowing slowly because you have a feeling that he’d prefer for you to help him, but he can’t ask. You decide to put it out there for him.

“I can help you if you’d like.”

And Miguel nods a few seconds later. “Thank you. I’m sorry – I know it’s too much. You’ve done so much already and I…”

“It’s not too much,” you answer softly. “It’s alright. Let’s just focus on you recovering, okay? Everything else – it doesn’t matter.”

Miguel nods but he still feels odd about this. He’s so used to doing everything on his own, which is how he got here, he realizes. He tries to put his feelings away just as there’s a knock on the door. Jess and Peter walk in, both carrying takeout bags. Peter is talking loudly and saying something about a nurse. Miguel and you frown, thinking that they must have been seen carrying in outside food.

“You didn’t get in trouble for bringing outside food?” you ask.

Jess frowns before she realizes what you’re talking about. “Oh, right. There’s that rule. Nobody follows it,” she says with a shrug.

You turn to Miguel as Jess and Peter start putting out the food on the same table from yesterday. The two of you share a look of disbelief at Jess’s comment before you grin, shaking your head softly. Miguel offers you a small smile in return.

The four of you have breakfast. It turns out that Jess brought breakfast from a diner in her universe, apparently a favorite spot of her husband’s, who kindly sent the food and wished Miguel a speedy recovery. After breakfast, Jess and Peter ask Miguel if they can talk about certain tasks that need his approval. You decide to take this time and collect his personal items. He gives you a quick rundown of everything he’d need and where you can find it before you head out.

It doesn’t take you very long. You retrieve his personal hygiene items like his shampoo, body wash, and deodorant along with his hairbrush. You move to the clothes next. It turns out that Miguel has a large walk-in closet, located in his room that you completely missed when you came to look for him two nights ago as the doors blend with the rest of the wall so much. You pick up two pairs of dark grey sweatpants, at his request, and two jackets, along with two pairs of boxers. You remember to grab some slippers and socks as well, and pack everything into a travel bag before you head out of his bedroom, briefly taking in his space.

Miguel’s room is large, clean, and well organized but you can tell he doesn’t spend a lot of time here. Everything is in neutral colors like his grey bed set. You head to Miguel’s home office next to pick up the last thing he requested. A vial that’s supposed to contain a green liquid and a syringe. You wondered but of course you didn’t ask.

You enter the office, finding it like the rest of Miguel’s penthouse; clean and organized, all neutral colors. You head to the desk, remembering he said you’d find what he needs in the first drawer and sure enough, you find the items there. The squared vials, which contain a neon green liquid, are in a small box meant to keep them from breaking. You pick one up, careful not to drop it, and place it in one of the small storage bags within the traveling bag. The large syringe is also in the drawer, and it’s apparently Spider-Man themed as you notice the injecting needles are designed to look like a spider’s fangs. You slide it into the bag, too. You walk out of the office, ready to head back as the strange vial is on your mind.

When you return to HQ, you find Jess and Peter standing off to the side. Miguel is on the bed surrounded by the medical team just as they’re preparing to remove his gauzes. You stick back with Jess and Peter, still holding the travel bag in your hand as Jess tells Miguel about the different things done to fix the system failure from yesterday. Miguel nods, listening intently as a nurse unties the hospital gown from the back of his neck, gently moving it down his arms to not hurt him and for the first time, you see the extent of his injuries. Most of his torso is covered in gauzes with only a few areas showing his skin and it makes you realize just how much he was injured. Thankfully Jess continues talking, showing no hesitation. Meanwhile, you sense Peter going still much like you. He looks out the window with a soft and thoughtful look on his face while you look down at the traveling bag, both of you feeling stunned by the sight of Miguel’s torso covered in gauzes.

You eventually look up again, noticing that the team is now removing gauzes, revealing Miguel’s injuries. Even from this distance you can see light pink lines across his skin from the smaller wounds. You also notice other things, like Miguel’s physique. You obviously know he’s well-built due to being a superhero but as your eyes respectfully inspect his upper body you still feel… admiration? Surprise? In a matter of seconds your eyes take in his broad and defined shoulders, his collarbone, and the lines of definition that mark his chest and abdomen. And when you look at his arms, you notice his large biceps and the veins leading down to his hands. As silly as it sounds all you can think about is that phrase everyone uses when they talk about a well-built and handsome man. It’s like Miguel was sculpted by -

“Did you get everything Miguel needed?”

“What?” you reply quietly, blinking and turning your head to Peter, startled.

“I asked if you got everything Miguel needed. You okay? You look a little distracted,” Peter says with a little grin.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you nod. “Yeah, I got everything. And yes, I’m fine. Just – it’s been a stressful weekend, that’s all,” you answer neutrally, looking down at your gizmo as an excuse to avoid Peter’s gaze because you sense that he caught you staring.

You briefly look at Miguel, his eyes are on Jess as she continues to talk, thankfully unaware that you were staring at him. The medical team continues to work and at last, all the gauzes are removed. You can see the worst of his injuries now which include the two large cuts on his side and then the one in his stomach from the trident, which needed stitches. The doctor tells you how to go about cleaning his wounds, as Miguel makes it known you’ll be helping him, so you take note of everything for when the time comes.

“Well, that’s everything. The other thing I was thinking about is that we should consider training or at least educating more members on how to work with the system. Y/N had to get Margo in order to get Lyla working again when she arrived at HQ,” Jess says, not realizing Miguel still hasn’t heard the whole story.

Miguel sits on the bed; the hospital gown is draped over his chest now. At the mention of you arriving to HQ and discovering something was wrong, he meets your eyes. Two people have now mentioned you arriving at HQ and being the one to discover something was wrong. Miguel’s curiosity only grows but he doesn’t ask right now with Jess and Peter here. He’ll be asking you soon, even though he notices you avert his gaze. He returns his gaze to Jess and nods.

“It’s not a bad idea,” he says after a few seconds, which surprises Jess. She was expecting opposition. “Let’s put together a list of members that would be interested and suitable for it.”

Jess nods. “I already have a list. These two are included,” Jess says nodding at you and Peter.

Miguel’s eyes turn to you and Peter. “If you’re interested, you’re approved.”

“Oh, thanks, pal! I’m in.”

You nod. “I’m interested, too. Thank you.”

“Then it’s settled. You’ll be the first to be trained,” Miguel says softly. “I’ll personally teach you once I’m back in the lab.”

Peter and you nod, giving him smiles.

“Well, that’s really everything now. We’ll go ahead and head out so you can shower. Don’t worry about lunch or dinner. My husband and I are cooking something for you,” Jess says smiling fondly. “He agreed you two deserve a homemade meal now that things are calmer. You know how he is,” she adds with a smile that you only see on her when she talks about her partner.

“Thank you, Jess. Please give my thanks to your husband as well,” Miguel says pausing, taking the moment to look at all of you. “Thank you for everything,” Miguel expresses, with his tone full of sincerity.

You smile at him as Jess and Peter say something, not finding it necessary to tell him anything else. You’ve told him already. Being here and helping him is not an inconvenience to you. He’s your friend, and you want to be here for him.

Jess and Peter head out shortly after, and you prepare to help Miguel shower.

You set his personal hygiene items out in the bathroom, along with his clothes before you help Miguel out of the bed once again. You walk with him to the bathroom and start the shower for him, angling the shower head so that he can wash the lower half of his body without getting his torso wet, as too much exposure to water can lead to infection. You leave towels out, easily accessible for him and head out but not before telling him to let you know if he needs help or when he’s ready.

You also ask him to take his time so he doesn’t hurt himself as the deeper wounds will take maybe two or three more days to fully heal. And Miguel promises he will.

You head out, closing the door behind you and prepare the items you’ll be needing to dress his wounds once he’s out. You also prepare the soap, washcloths, and two water basins the medical team provided to wash his upper body.

You wait patiently for Miguel to finish and as you do, you clean around the room to give yourself something to do. You fix his bed, fold the blankets, and rearrange the flowers and snack baskets gifted to Miguel since you picked up more items this morning while Miguel was still sleeping from the waiting area. Once done, you look around as you take a sip of leftover coffee from breakfast and that’s when you hear Miguel’s voice. You walk over and knock, asking if you can come in and do so once he replies yes.

When you walk into the bathroom, Miguel is standing in the shower. A towel is wrapped around his waist. The end of the towel is tucked in but he still his hand over it, as if he’s afraid it’ll slip off.

“Everything okay?” you ask. “No issues?”

“No issues, I just took a long time,” he says quietly.

“That’s alright. As long as you don’t get hurt, that’s all that matters,” you say. “Let me grab the other items, okay?”

He nods before you walk out and retrieve the items you prepared earlier. You come in again, feeling glad the shower is large enough to fit about three people despite a shower chair and bench being inside. Miguel watches silently, unable to stop himself from feeling embarrassed about the whole thing. He observes you place the water basins on the shower chair before you check the water temperature to make sure it’s not too hot, as you don’t want to cause Miguel any irritation or discomfort to his sensitive wounds. You finally angle the shower head towards the water basins to fill them as this is how you’re washing his chest. You check the soap that was given to you by the medical team when you remember.

“Shoot, I forgot to ask for something else,” you say, placing the soap on the bathroom counter. “It shouldn’t take me long, hold on.”

“What’s needed?” Miguel asks curiously, as nothing seems to be missing.

You pause, thinking how to word your statement. “I’m going to ask for gloves. It might be better for me to wear gloves to avoid – touching your injuries directly.”

You feel satisfied with your response. You didn’t say that you’ll be asking for gloves specifically to respect his boundaries regarding physical touch. All throughout the weekend you’ve done your best to avoid it, only touching him when there are fabrics in between and when it’s absolutely necessary. Miguel looks down at you with a look you can only describe as soft and tender, but it’s so brief you almost feel like you made it up.

Miguel gazes at you, knowing your true reason for wanting to request gloves, which leaves him unable to stop this warm feeling from taking root in his chest. Tenderness. It spreads across his chest rapidly and he tries his best to hide it even when he’s sure it’s too late to prevent it from showing on his face, but he can’t help it.

Despite everything, how tired you may be and how much he’s already asking of you, you’re still trying to respect his boundaries, something he’s always been silently grateful for. He gives you a small smile.

“I don’t mind,” Miguel says at last.

You nod slowly. “Okay – you’re sure, though? I can quickly go get some. The medical team has been wonderful, and they’d get me a pair in no time.”

“It’s alright. You don’t need to get gloves,” Miguel replies quietly but with a reassuring tone.

You nod again and look at the water basins, they’re halfway filled now.

“Okay… Alright, then let’s get you cleaned up. You might start getting cold with the AC continuously running,” you say, trying to distract yourself from the fact he’s okay with potentially feeling your hands on his skin.

You push away your thoughts regarding that and prepare yourself mentally, as you don’t want to hurt Miguel in the process. You wash your hands thoroughly and go through the steps the medical team gave you in your head as Miguel waits patiently. The two of you decide to start with washing his chest first before anything else as you both figure that it’ll take the most time and then leave his hair for last.

And so, after grabbing the smaller shower bench to stand on because you can’t reach his shoulders all the way, you begin. You start from Miguel’s shoulders and make your way down slowly. You do this in parts. Cleaning the areas gently, rinsing the soap away, and then softly patting dry Miguel’s skin to avoid any infections. Your movements are gentle and cautious, and you continuously ask Miguel if he’s alright; urging him to tell you if you need to be more careful. Miguel assures you he’s in no pain or discomfort. He almost tells you he believes it’s impossible for you to be any gentler with him. Your gentleness makes him feel like some fragile object that may break with just the wrong look. Thankfully, his embarrassment fades slowly as you don’t seem to mind this. You look so focused on the task, like it’s your sole mission to avoid hurting him.

You dip the washcloth into the water basin once more before you slightly push the shower bench away, no longer needing it for height right now until you wash his back. You carry on while Miguel stands there, still holding the towel around his waist with one hand softly, staring at the shower wall and occasionally looking down at you briefly. He distracts himself for a bit by wondering if he’ll have some scars from this. He’s certain the trident wound will most definitely leave one behind since it was the deepest wound, but it doesn’t bother him. Miguel doesn’t view scars or anything of the sort like stretchmarks on a body as a flaw or imperfection. He’s just curious if there’ll be a physical reminder of this event on his body.

Miguel’s thoughts are interrupted when he feels the washcloth lower on his body. You’re about to reach the trident wound at last and that means you’re reaching his lower abdomen. He feels a bit embarrassed as the towel is just inches above his pelvic area. He’s afraid that you’ll find this to be too much but when he looks at you, you have the same look on your face. You’re not eyeing him or helping him with hesitation. You’re only focused on his comfort and making sure that the wounds are clean. He does think about the way you were looking at him earlier though when the team was removing the gauzes. He noticed a look of surprise on your face, but he doesn’t know if it was due to the injuries or his body overall. Either way, he didn’t mind.

You finish at last and rinse the last part before you dry the area softly but effectively, as this is the area with the worst of his injuries.

“We’re done. Do you feel any discomfort? Please tell me if you do,” you state with concern.

“No discomfort. I hardly felt anything,” Miguel reassures you. “Really, you can relax.”

You sigh softly and nod, relieved because you can tell he’s not lying. “I’m glad to hear that. I was worried I was putting too much pressure at times because some of the wounds had – you know – dry blood, so I wanted to clean the wounds properly,” you softly reply. You give him a small smile now, glad the most nerve wrecking part is over. “Alright, let’s wash the rest of your body now.”

You wash the rest of Miguel’s body, washing his arms all the way to his fingers. You keep a neutral face even when you hold his wrists so you can wash his hands, noticing the slits on Miguel’s finger pads from where his talons come out. And of course, you’re sort of in awe at how large his hands are. It’s not like you haven’t noticed before but they somehow look larger without the suit. You push your thoughts away, making sure that Miguel is in no discomfort and that you don’t waste time but even then, you can’t help but notice how his skin feels or how warm he is. You silently think about how you’ve never encountered anyone with such body warmth.

The two of you are silent the whole time but it’s a comfortable silence. Neither of you feel the need to fill the quiet and besides, Miguel’s mind is occupied with last night’s thoughts, about the new proposition to educate members on how to operate the system, and on top of that, he’s still wondering how you knew something was wrong. He wants to ask but the fact that you averted his gaze when Jess mentioned it makes him think you’re not ready to talk about it. So, he’ll wait for a few days.

You gently wash Miguel’s sides, his underarms, and finally his back having to use the shower bench again to reach his shoulders. You rinse his body, holding a towel above the one wrapped around his waist to avoid getting it damp. Finally, you pat him dry everywhere again.

You move to his hair at last. For this, the shower chair is used. You arrange it so that you can stand behind Miguel while he sits on it. With everything you need at your disposal, you start by wetting his hair. You pour warm water, making sure that his hair is completely wet before you lather the shampoo in your hands. You proceed to glide your fingers into Miguel’s hair, gently pressing your fingertips into his scalp.

At your request, Miguel’s eyes are closed since you’re worried water or shampoo will get in his eyes. And the moment he feels your fingertips on his scalp, Miguel’s relieved you requested that of him. His lips part slightly in both surprise and delight at the sensation of your fingers in his hair. Fortunately for him, you don’t notice. He quickly closes his lips and bites the inside of his cheek as he continues to feel your fingertips through his hair. His grip on the towel around his waist tightens and for a few seconds he's afraid his talons will come out.

And you, you’re oblivious to all of this as Miguel tries very hard not to let it show. You just continue to wash his hair, noticing more than ever the curls on Miguel’s hair. His hair is silky, and you briefly wonder what it’d be like to glide your fingers through it when it’s dry. It reminds you of the countless times you played with Peter’s hair, something he absolutely loved, claiming it always eased his stress.

Thinking about Peter in this moment leads you to remember the one time you washed his hair. It was shortly after the two of you moved in together. You painted the living room, and he got paint on it, which refused to come out after the first two showers. He ended up sitting on the tub while you sat on the edge, washing his hair a few times until it finally came off. It was the only time you got to reciprocate such intimate act even though he helped you shower on more than five occasions, when you returned home with nasty bruises and cuts, and completely spent from fighting.

Miguel continues to sit still, your hands still washing his hair gently, and he decides to talk about anything to keep his mind occupied and distracted from your hands on his scalp.

“Have you ever received injuries like these?” he asks, keeping his eyes closed.

The question interrupts your thoughts, and it takes you a few seconds to answer.

“To this degree… One time only. I got cut with a sword,” you say, recalling that incidence. “The guy caught me by surprise while I was helping civilians out of the way. I needed a few stitches.”

Miguel hums softly in acknowledgement. “A sword…”

You chuckle. “Yep. Got home afterwards and well, Peter had to help.”

Miguel turns his head slightly at that. “Peter? You didn’t go to the hospital?”

You slow down your movements as you’re now washing the hair near Miguel’s nape. “I was too – precautious, I guess you could say. Paranoid might be the best term here. I feared that the hospital staff would start asking questions or put two and two together about being Spider-Woman. I was afraid that my identity would be revealed. That Peter’s life would be a mess because of me.”

Miguel listens intently, briefly feeling thankful that the conversation is distracting him from your touch.

“So, I refused to go to the hospital. It was a condition I had. Unless it was very, very serious then I’d go but otherwise no. Peter ended up taking a class on wound care and CPR because of my decision, even though he was very against it, but he was always very supportive… Thankfully by the time that happened he already knew how to take care of it. That was the first and last time he had to give me stitches.”

You pause for a few seconds, thinking. To this day you have a slight scar on the side of your stomach, and you carry it with love, for it’s one of the reminders of Peter’s love. You sigh softly and wash Miguel’s hair near his ears now, careful not to get shampoo on them. Miguel sits there thinking about Peter. He never met the man but just from what he’s acquire, he knows Peter loved you. So much, that he took classes on wound care to treat your injuries. Miguel feels grief for you. You had such a beautiful relationship with Peter. He wonders silently if at this point, you’d be married to him. If you’d have a child by now.

You’re almost done washing his hair when his thoughts lead to a different line of thinking. He hates it because he knows it’s wrong and yet he cannot stop his thoughts. Would you still be here if Peter was alive? Or would you be just another member who reached the conclusion that perhaps he was a lost cause after weeks of him ignoring your coffee cups? Would you go home to Peter and tell him about your distant boss, who spends too many hours on his own in his lab? Would you be here? Would you be a constant in his life the way you are now?

Would any of this have happened at all, he wonders. If Peter was here, there would’ve been no need for him to show up to your apartment that day you were unwell. There would be no talking on Peter’s birthday over cake and ice cream. No sharing of pan dulce and Mexican candy on Dia de los Muertos night, no one to watch the Christmas lights or New Year’s Eve show with. There would be no you.

You wouldn’t be a part of his life the way you are but if Miguel had the power to choose between you being a part of his life or you living your best life with Peter unscathed, he’d choose the latter, even if it meant there would be no you in his life.

Even the thought, the simple thought, that there’s a chance you could’ve never been a part of his life like this, leaves Miguel with a heavy feeling in his chest that rises to his throat. A feeling that he hasn’t felt in a while and it’s one that tells him he has something to lose again. And that’s how he truly knows. He’s been going backwards all this time. Each moment spent with you behind closed doors talking over coffee, or on rooftops gazing at cities across the multiverse, each moment that either of you’ve shared something with the other about your past and loved ones, or each time he thought of you late at night when his exhausted mind wandered off; he’s been slipping backwards all this time and he hasn’t even realized it until now. And despite knowing he’d give this up for you to be happy with Peter, he still can’t help but grief over the thought alone, causing that feeling to grow in Miguel’s throat.

You continue to wash Miguel’s hair and then rinse, laying your hand gently over his forehead to prevent any water from rolling down his face as you do so. You have no idea what’s on Miguel’s mind or what causes him to sigh deeply before he speaks.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I haven’t said it but I’m sorry for your loss. Peter – he sounds like he was an incredible human being.”

You smile sadly as you rinse his hair out. “Thank you… He was. I wish he would’ve had more time. I think – he would’ve done a lot of amazing things. He had so many goals,” you share quietly, remembering all the ideas and plans he had, which had remained exactly that. Just ideas and plans. You finish rinsing Miguel’s hair and give him a happier smile now. “We’re almost done here.”

Miguel nods gently, still thinking about everything. For once, his mind isn’t occupied with tasks regarding the Spider Society but with other affairs. As you rinse the bottom of his hair, squeezing out the water gently, Miguel opens his eyes.

“Y/N?” he says, making you pause.

“Yes?”

Miguel stays silent for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling.

“Thank you,” Miguel says softly, heavy with sincerity.

And the way he says those simple words, it makes your lips part in surprise and endearment, for you sense that his thanks extend beyond this moment. Miguel turns his head towards you, his red eyes meeting your gaze. You give him a smile.

“Always,” you reply quietly, and he nods with a small smile of his own before you finish rinsing his hair.

You finish helping Miguel with the rest. You dry his hair with a towel and brush it. You help him get dressed once the two of you figure out a way to do so without him feeling improper. At last, Miguel stands in his sweatpants, still topless as you must dress his wounds. You do this in the room instead of the bathroom, with Miguel sitting on the fold-out chair you’ve claimed as yours this weekend. You sit on the shower bench and tend to his wounds the way you were told to, applying your own knowledge from experience over the years.

The TV is on as you work carefully. Miguel seems unbothered until you reach the trident wound and the two lacerations on his side, wincing silently which makes you stop to give him a moment. At last, his wounds are taken care of for the day. You help him apply deodorant before you slip a beige jacket on, zipping it up so he won’t get cold.

It isn’t until you’re done fixing the bathroom from the shower that Miguel asks about the vial, reminding you about it. You get it out along with the syringe before you show them to him. You know he can’t do it himself and despite your curiosity, you don’t ask questions about it, deciding that he’ll share details about it if he wants. So, you only offer to help, and he accepts. He tells you how to do it and the process is over in a few seconds with a fleeting red glow in his eyes. You don’t say anything and neither does Miguel, who looks down at his hands as you put away the syringe.

As promised, Jess arrives during lunch and dinnertime to bring the two of you food. You help Miguel eat both times and you notice he seems in much better spirits than the day before. It’s about 7pm when your gizmo goes off, alarming you of a new notification, and then another, and then another. Miguel, who now sits on the bed, turns to look at you with a puzzled look much like yours as you check it. You smile in amusement as you see it’s your friends, wondering if you and Miguel need something, and just overall asking about his health. Another one arrives, making Miguel raise his eyebrow as you look up at him.

“It’s my friends,” you say with a soft smile. “They’re wondering how you’re doing and if we need anything.”

Miguel nods, noticing the smile on your face as you talk about your group of friends. He realizes you probably haven’t seen them since Friday after the weekly dinner that Peter and Mary Jane host. Dinners that Miguel has been invited to but has never shown up to.

“If you want to see them,” Miguel starts. “They can come.”

You hold his gaze with a bit of surprise, which Miguel finds amusing.

“There are no rules against visitors this late in the evening, and even if there were – they’d probably be disregarded as well, just like the outside food rule,” Miguel says with a shrug, making you smile even more.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

You beam at Miguel, and nod before you invite them over. Your visible excitement makes Miguel feel pleased with his decision. And, in the span of ten minutes, you and Miguel are joined by all your friends, including Lego Spider-Man, who was apparently hanging out with Noir. Miguel sits on the bed, surrounded by some of your friends as you hang out by the windows with Hobie and Pav specifically.

You watch Miguel as he talks to Lego Spider-Man, who’s held in Noir’s palm. You notice he gives Miguel a balloon and a flower, from his Lego universe, of course. Miguel nods at something the small superhero tells him, and you smile faintly before turning your attention back to your friends.

Miguel thanks everyone as they approach him, not only for the cards and well wishes but for helping around HQ. When Miles approaches him, he takes the time to thank him for his words – for his forgiveness.

“Wait, you guys know what I just realized?” Pav asks suddenly in a surprised tone.

You and Hobie both raise an eyebrow.

“This is the first time I’ve seen Miguel in normal clothes. This is so weird,” he shares frowning at Miguel, who doesn’t notice Pav’s shock. “It’s like – It feels wrong to see him like this.”

Hobie chuckles and you try not to laugh, catching Miguel’s eyes. He raises an eyebrow at you, as if asking what’s so funny. You shrug and mouth “later.” He nods as Pav continues about how strange Miguel looks until he changes the discussion to Gayatri, his girlfriend.

Miguel looks around the room, now filled with chaotic energy. His eyes land on you as you smile and nod at something Pav says.

He sighs quietly. He thinks about the dream with his family, about their words. He remembers Gabriel asking him to try to move forward and live life, and Miguel telling his brother he’d try. He doesn’t know exactly how he’s going to approach this entirely, but he is going to try. And as he continues to look at you, he thinks of his thoughts from earlier; about the possibility of you not being here or being his friend.

He'd give this up if it meant you’d be happy at home with Peter right now. If he had the power, he would but he doesn’t. He can’t change the past. None of it. No matter how much he has wished he could, it’s out of his hands. And so, he has no other excuse to give this up. No other excuse to push this away or catch himself from falling backwards even though he knows it’s too late anyway. He can’t walk away even if he wanted to.

“It’s gonna be alright, tío,” Miles says out of nowhere, noticing Miguel staring at you.

Miguel looks at Miles and nods. “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you… mijo.”

Miles nods with a grin, his eyes light up at Miguel’s response, which the commander of the Spider Society notices.

“Uh – I just remembered I need to tell Gwen something. I’ll be right back,” Miles says, looking like he can’t believe what he heard, amusing Miguel before he walks to Gwen.

Miguel’s eyes return to you. He has a lot to share with you about his life; like his childhood, the situation with his parents, Gabriel’s death, or why he needs to use suppressants among other events in his life. He’ll share those things with you one day, little by little. The same way one day he’ll say those words that his mouth begs him to say.

You’re my friend.

One day, he’ll claim you as his friend out loud, too. In the meantime, he’ll try to show it through his actions instead.

___________ *Translation for italicized Spanish words:* conchas - Mexican bread shaped like a seashell Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Dead Mierda - Shit Tío - Uncle Pan Dulce - Sweet bread; Mexican pastry breads Mijo - My son ___________ Hi, guys! So sorry for taking a while to update. I honestly didn't expect to take this long writing this part. I had a clear idea for this part but got caught up with family events and just life in general. To the anon that asked when this part was going up and I said last Monday - I'm sorry it took me basically another whole week. 😭 I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter though. My simpness jumped out for this one so bad lol. The speakable things I'd do for this man are unreal!! I just want to hug Miguel and hold him and tell him he's worth it and deserving of love and friendships!!! 🥺

Anyway, I hope to return to my regular Sunday schedule this upcoming weekend. I'm also planning on doing some short drabbles for this month because I can't stop thinking about autumn and Miguel and just how freaking cozy he would be. Also, just very quickly! Some readers have drawn fan art for Nonviolent Communication, which I still cannot wrap my head around. I'm so, so thankful that these lovely artists drew art for it. I never imagined that someone, let alone two people, would take time out of their days to do so. Thank you again so much! 🥹 If you're interested to see some of the scenes from the story, including someone's take on reader's Peter (which @sunsetdoodler somehow managed to draw exactly like my personal vision of him??! I still feel emotional. One of their drawings was also the inspiration for the larger coffee cups for Miguel after we talked about Miguel probably needing more caffeine because of his physique lol) then please go check it out, and show the artists some love, please!! It's all linked on my masterlist. Thank you so much for the support throughout this story. I genuinely love reading the comments and asks I receive, and I hope you guys continue to enjoy the story to the end. I'm just really in awe with how wonderful this community is and I'm thankful to my 6'9" half-Irish, half-Mexican boyfriend for it.

I'm off to sleep now as it's 1am and I've been writing and editing all weekend lol. Take care guys and enjoy the spooky vibes this month!! ❤️🎃🍁

-Alondra🍁

Tag list: @loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @rootin-tootin-morgan @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @mandodinstuff @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea

495 notes · View notes

cleo-fox · 4 months ago

Text

As the Clock Strikes Midnight - Part VII

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: In which your patience is finally rewarded. Chapter Warnings: Sex, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink. Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

Getting through the next day is a challenge, to say the very least.

Your day typically includes a fair number of mindless tasks–peeling pounds of potatoes, kneading bread dough, scrubbing pots and pans, and so on. Normally, you don’t mind it; normally, it’s an opportunity for your mind to wander, a way to distract yourself from the neverending drudgery.

Today is a different story. Today, the only destination for your wandering mind is what awaits you at the end of the day. And what awaits you at the end of the day, well…those sorts of thoughts tend to leave you flustered and checking the time.

The others, thankfully, are too preoccupied with their own tasks to pay you much mind, which feels like a small blessing—you couldn’t even begin to come up with a believable excuse for your inattention.

You’ve taken care to maintain a sort of playful distance from Loki as a matter of protection—the more detached you appear, the less likely you are to be hurt when this ends. Not that you’re having any feelings you need to protect yourself from, of course—this is just a precaution. The practical part of you knows that you should probably wait a little after dark before making your way to his chambers. Unfortunately, the part of you that has been anticipating this all day (to say nothing of the last three) is not particularly inclined to listen to practical advice; consequently it is barely dark when you arrive at his chamber doors.

He notices. Of course.

“You’re awfully early,” he says as he lets you in, not bothering to hide his smirk.

“Yesterday you scolded me for being late. Today I am too early,” you say, arching an eyebrow at him. “Perhaps the problem is that you are too particular, your highness.”

“An artful deflection,” he says, taking your hand and leading you to the bedroom. “There’s no shame in admitting you couldn’t wait for me to ravish you.”

A huff of a laugh escapes your lips and you give him a look. “That’s awfully bold of you.”

You say this largely to bait him and he gives you a catlike smile as you come to a stop in the bedroom. He looks you up and down and wets his lips. “I suspect I’ll find you slick and aching under your skirts.”

He’s right, though you don’t intend to admit it. You simply raise your eyebrow and he smiles like he knows exactly what you’re hiding. Bastard.

“And similarly—” his voice drops as he guides your hand to the front of his trousers, “I’ve been contending with this for much of the day.”

His cock is hard and straining against the material of his trousers, which only fans the ache between your thighs.

“Oh.” You wish you had something clever to say, but lust has made your brain pleasantly foggy. You run your hand along the length of him and he watches you with hooded eyes, the slight intake of breath his only tell. You move to undo his trousers and his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand away.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” he says. “I want to take my time with you.”

As much as you want him to finally, finally take you, the thought of him taking his time is also wildly appealing. His eyes remain hooded as he trails his fingertips down the curve of your jaw, across your lips, along the column of your throat and down to your collarbones. His touch is light and reverent, like he wants to know every part of you and commit it to memory. It’s entirely chaste, but still somehow erotic and you can’t hide the way that you tremble in the wake of his gentle caress.

His fingertips trail down your sternum, skimming along your ribcage, then down the sides of your waist to your hips. He pauses for a moment before reversing his course. He does this several times before your resolve begins to waver.

“Loki.” Your voice is a strained whisper.

He brushes his lips against your forehead, his fingertips still following that light and teasing path. You tilt your head up in the hope that he’ll kiss you; instead, his lips ghost against yours, pulling away before you can draw him deeper.

His light touches and barely there kisses are inspiring a specific sort of madness in you, one that feels particularly unbearable after three days of waiting. After another brief pass of your lips, it’s enough to override your remaining shred of pride and self-control.

“Kiss me,” you breathe.

The flash of a wicked smile makes you wonder if this was merely another ploy to make you admit to wanting him, but the thought is fleeting and dissipates completely when he finally brings his lips to yours.

This is different from the other times he’s kissed you—it’s deeper, more searching, hungry. You wind your arms around his neck, twining your fingers in his hair and pressing yourself against him. His hands slide along your hips to the buttons at the back of your dress, nimbly slipping them free, trailing his fingertips down your spine as he goes. You release your hold on his hair to help him pull your dress off, leaving it to pool on the floor at your feet. Your hands slide to his tunic, tugging insistently at the fabric until he obliges you and breaks away long enough to pull it up and over his head. Your shift and undergarments are next to go, joining the other clothes on the floor in quick succession.

He pulls you back to him and the heat of his bare chest pressing against yours feels so good that you almost don’t notice that he’s walking you backwards toward the bed until you feel the mattress brush against the backs of your legs.

“On the bed,” he says roughly. His voice is commanding and stern and it goes straight to your aching cunt.

You slide onto the bed, relishing the feel of silk against your bare skin, your eyes locked on Loki as he starts removing his trousers. He looks like something out of a figure drawing, all lean muscles and understated strength. Your eyes drop to his cock as he removes his trousers. He is achingly hard, the tip flushed. You can feel yourself tense in delicious anticipation of what he will feel like buried to the hilt inside of you.

Your gaze trails back up to his face and you find that he is looking at you with the same sort of appraising, lustful look. His gaze roams over your breasts and down to your hips and back again before he finally meets your eyes.

“You look so pretty in my bed,” he says. “Even better than I imagined.”

“Were you not paying attention? I’ve been in your bed these past few nights,” you say.

“Not like this,” he says. “Not bare and waiting for me to fuck you into the mattress.”

You shiver, but you manage a sardonic smile. “To be clear, I wanted that last night and the two nights before. You simply chose to be a tease about it.”

“Trust me, darling,” he says, his gaze dark and hungry, “I’m about to make it up to you.”

You lick your lips and smirk. “Prove it to me, then.”

He allows himself one wicked grin before he crawls up the bed on top of you, looking as intent and hungry as a caged panther stalking its next meal.

You inhale sharply at the first brush of his bare skin against yours. He lowers himself on top of you, his cock resting hard and heavy against your stomach. You’re fairly certain you’ve never wanted him as much as you do right now. He leans in and kisses you deeply, his fingertips stroking along the curve of your jaw and the column of your throat before wandering lower to cup and caress your breasts.

You wrap your legs around his waist, arching against him and trying to angle your hips so that his cock rubs against you. His right hand trails down your body, pausing briefly at your hip to hold you in place.

“So eager, so slick,” he purrs. He kisses you again and you feel him take his cock in his hand and drag it in a slow circuit from your clit to your entrance and back again. You moan into his mouth and he chuckles. “It takes so little to soften that sharp tongue.”

You arch your back and press your breasts against his chest, your hands twining in his hair. He strokes his cock along you again, like he’s getting ready to fuck you properly and put an end to your aching need. You rock your hips forward, trying to encourage him.

But the moment you feel him smile against your mouth, you want to kick yourself. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

And indeed, he begins kissing a leisurely path down your neck mere seconds later.

“Loki,” you groan as he begins slowly easing his way down your body.

“I need to get you ready for me, darling,” he murmurs, sliding his tongue over the curve of your right breast.

“I’ve been ready for the last three d—”

You gasp as his teeth lightly graze your nipple, his tongue darting out to sweep over the sensitive skin before drawing it gently into his mouth and sucking as his hand cups your other breast, fingers gently rolling and pinching your nipple until it becomes pebbled and hard.

“I do so enjoy quieting that wicked tongue,” he murmurs.

You open your mouth to say something, but Loki is quicker, sucking your nipple back into his mouth, teasing it mercilessly with his teeth while his hand redoubles its efforts with your other breast. Your complaint fades away into a whimper that would be embarrassing if you had the capacity to care about anything beyond his mouth and hands. Your hands tangle in his hair, your hips rocking fruitlessly as you try to find friction that evades you as he lavishes attention on your breasts.

No amount of pleading seems to persuade him to go any faster, but eventually, he begins slowly kissing his way down your body, trailing his lips along your ribs, then down your stomach and to your hips. He looks up at you from in between your spread legs and you swear you can feel your arousal practically dripping out of you when he gives you that hungry smile.

He brings a single forefinger to the very top of your slit, his gaze locked on your face. Your breath hitches.

His finger skims but does not part your folds. It’s a soft, barely there touch that makes your aching cunt clench tightly around nothing. He takes his hand away and brings his face closer and for a moment, you think he’s finally going to give you some relief, but instead, he repeats that same feather light gesture with his lips, lightly pressing closed mouth kisses along the very edge of your slit.

He looks up at you, his eyes hooded and hazy with lust, though not so hazy that you think he’s lost any amount of control. He didn’t even really touch you, but you can still see a faint glint of moisture on his lips from how wet you are.

He licks his lips and your resolve breaks, abruptly and completely.

“Loki, please.”

He draws back slightly, his fingertips grazing your folds as he parts you gently, staring greedily at your exposed cunt.

“Look at you,” he breathes, his voice a low, dark purr. “Absolutely soaked and begging for me.”

You whimper.

“Such a pretty, needy cunt.” He licks his lips again and looks back up at you. “Shall I taste you, or do you want my fingers?”

Whatever shred of pride you still possess has long since vanished, your entire focus zeroing in on the throbbing ache between your legs. “Both,” you say, without a thought.

He raises an eyebrow, but there’s a spark of delight in his eyes. “Greedy girl. Do you think you deserve it? You’ve been awfully pert.”

“Loki, please,” you whimper. “I need you.”

“You need me?” he says, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. “Darling, you have me, I’m right here.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you say.

“And what did you mean?” His voice is low, the warm exhale of his breath lightly brushing against your folds.

He’s played this game before, making you say exactly what it is that you want, no matter how filthy or indecent it may be. The prideful part of you isn’t fond of letting him win, but this is largely overshadowed by the desire that’s coiling like a snake in your belly and making you desperate.

You lick your lips. “I want you to put your mouth on me. I want to come for you.”

This particular turn of phrase seems to stir something in him—he gives you a wicked smile that is almost feral, his eyes darkening with lust. Slowly, he lowers his lips to just above your clit, pressing another chaste kiss against you, drawing forth another whimper from your lips.

“Say my name,” he breathes against your cunt.

“Loki, please.”

You can feel him smile just before the warm blade of his tongue presses forward, parting your folds in one long stroke.

You are so slick and sensitive and his mouth is so warm and perfect that for a moment, all you can do is moan as his tongue lightly brushes against your clit. He seems determined to continue things on his terms, working at a slow, leisurely pace that is enough to nudge you closer, but not quite enough to pull you over the edge. After a few minutes of just his tongue, he slides one finger inside of you, curling it so that it brushes ever so slightly against that soft, tender spot that can so easily unravel you. It’s not enough to make you see stars, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch and your hands tangle in his hair to pull him closer. He chuckles against you, but does not change his pace.

Just when you think you may start to go mad with wanting, a second finger joins the first, his fingers drawing sparks from where they graze against that spot inside you.

“Loki.”

His tongue flattens against your clit and his fingers curl just a little bit more.

You are panting, your heels digging into his back as he draws you closer to the starry oblivion that you’ve been thinking about all day. You are a mess of half whimpered pleas and breathy moans as he keeps you balanced on the edge, his fingers gradually curling more to rub that aching spot inside you as his tongue works your clit. The knot in your hips is impossibly tight, the heat in your belly smoldering. Distantly, you wonder how much more of this you can take.

He sucks your clit gently into his mouth as his fingers simultaneously hit that spot in just the right way and all at once, the heat and ache inside of you reaches its peak and breaks like a wave on the shore and you utterly unravel.

At first, you can’t even make a noise—all of your energy and focus is zeroed in on the way that your muscles are spasming and releasing and everything feels so good. But then that next wave pulls an obscene moan from deep in your chest and your fingers grip his hair so tightly that you think it might actually hurt, but he merely purrs against you as his tongue continues to stroke your clit.

You’re not sure how he manages to draw it out for so long, but it seems to last forever, every part of you fizzing like you’re filled with champagne and stardust. Eventually, the tingling pleasure of the aftershocks blurs into your second orgasm, stealing your breath and bending your body upwards like a bow pulled taut as you moan Loki’s name like a prayer.

He doesn’t stop, though—not until he draws a third one from you, making you cry out so loudly you almost expect half the palace to come running.

He finally lifts his head as you come down from your high, his lips and chin coated in the evidence of your arousal as he gives you a ravenous smile. “You taste so sweet when you come,” he says. “I could stay between your legs for days.”

Just the thought of that makes you shiver and his smile widens. You reach for him, arms trembling and you’re a little surprised when he obliges, crawling up your body and into your arms with little more than a pleased smirk. Your arms wind around him as he settles on top of you, his cock pressing enticingly against your stomach. He kisses you and you melt, your hands moving again to tangle in his hair.

“Please,” you breathe when he brings his lips to your earlobe, gently worrying it between his teeth, “don’t make me wait any longer. I need you so badly.”

His hand slides down your thigh, hitching your leg up over his hip. “You’ve had my mouth and my fingers and now you want my cock?” he says, pressing a kiss just behind your ear.

“Yes.” There’s no point in denying it, not when he’s felt how wet you are, not when he’s so close to finally taking you, not when you still want him so badly you ache.

“Hmm.” He shifts slightly so that his hips align with yours, dragging his cock along your sopping cunt until his full length is covered in your slickness. He frowns thoughtfully, like he’s genuinely weighing whether you want him, whether you’re ready, though that mischievous glint in his eye is a dead giveaway of his true intentions.

You decide to try flattery once more. “Please, Loki. I need you.”

You can feel him, hot and hard, poised at your entrance. When he doesn’t immediately push forward, you are not surprised to find him smirking down at you. And as much as you need him, as desperate as you feel, you can’t help but scowl at him.

“Must you always be an insufferable tease?” you say.

“I’m merely savoring the moment,” he says, though the spark in his eyes says otherwise.

You roll your eyes. “I’m sure.”

“There’s a lot to savor.” He presses his hips forward ever so slightly and you gasp as the tip of his cock slides into you. “That right there,” he says huskily. “That lovely little sigh.”

You try and thrust your hips forward, but he’s got you pinned against the mattress. “Loki,” you whine.

“Be good.” He creeps forward another inch and his eyes close, his breath hitching. “Norns, you’re tight.”

This gives you an idea and you intentionally clench your muscles around him. He’s not expecting that and he groans, his teasing expression yielding for a moment to a pure, unguarded pleasure. His eyes refocus and he grins at you. “Vixen,” he says.

“Stop teasing and fuck me properly,” you say.

“Ah, but you make such pretty sounds for me when I tease you,” he says, pressing forward another inch. A breathy whine escapes from your lungs before you can stop it and he indulges in a catlike grin. “Just like that.”

“Loki.”

“Yes, darling?” He says this with a smirk, like he still has the upper hand.

“Fuck me. Please.”

“Such filth coming out of that pretty mouth,” he says, his hips pressing forward another inch. You tense your muscles again and his groan is delicious. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you say.

“Filthy girl.” But at last there’s a crack in his impeccable composure and he slides forward those last few inches.

Your head tips back and you moan as his hips finally press flush against you. You knew he was big, but you still weren’t entirely prepared for how full you would feel, how he seems to press against every sensitive part of your cunt. His fingers and mouth were incredible but his cock may very well send you to another plane of existence entirely.

You are so distracted by how good he feels that you’re almost taken aback when he begins to move. He feels so good when he’s seated fully inside of you, but when he’s moving—when he’s moving, it steals your breath away and sends sparks shooting all over your body, even at the slow teasing pace that he’s currently employing to try and drive you wild.

It’s so good. It’s so good and you don’t want it to end, but after so many days of teasing and the three orgasms he’s drawn from you tonight, you can feel your end quickly approaching, inevitable as thunder after lightning. You try to fight it off, wanting to make this last as long as possible.

“You’re holding back,” he says as you struggle to keep yourself on the edge. “I want to feel you come.”

“Don’t want it to end,” you manage to gasp.

To your surprise, he gives a low chuckle. “If you think I’ll be done fucking your exquisite cunt so soon, you are quite mistaken.” His eyes darken as he gives a particularly sensual thrust that makes you keen. “Now be a good girl and come on my cock.”

You try to hold back even so, but it’s no use: his words speak to some hungry, feral part of you and your orgasm overtakes you, sudden and swift as a riptide pulling you under. His pace never falters, his hips continuing to move in steady, powerful thrusts as you shudder around him. You ache for him even as he fills you, his cock rubbing against all the sensitive places deep inside you and drawing out a raw, primal pleasure that makes you cling to him, your fingernails painting long scratches down his back.

You expect your orgasm to drive him quickly to his own end, despite his assertion otherwise. His eyes flutter shut when you come and he allows himself a soft groan, but his pace remains steady and even as he fucks you through your orgasm. As you tremble through the aftershocks, he offers you a rather wicked grin and leans in to kiss you.

“You’re going to do that again for me,” he says against your lips. His husky voice alone is enough to make you shiver.

“Do you think you can manage it, your highness?” The effect of this retort is immediately ruined by the obscene moan that falls unbidden from your lips as he pulls your right leg up higher and presses even deeper inside of you, his hand sliding between your bodies to find your clit.

“Your mouth says one thing, but your cunt—” He punctuates this with a rough thrust that makes you keen, “—says something else entirely. I can feel you fluttering around me.”

You whimper as his too clever fingers stroke your sensitive clit and slow, deep thrusts drive you closer and closer to the edge.

“Yes,” he breathes, his gaze intent on your face. “Give into it. Let me feel you.”

Your back arches and your nails dig into his shoulders. It’s only a matter of time, a few more thrusts. His eyes glitter like he knows this. His fingers press against your clit.

“Come for me,” he says and you do without hesitation, careening headfirst into another starry euphoria. Your cries mingle with a low groan from him, but his pace never falters as you tremble around the thick girth of his cock.

His cool facade is starting to falter, if the desperate way that he kisses you is any indication. His fingers leave your clit so he can shift his position above you, putting his weight on his elbows to drive himself even deeper inside of you. His pace is still slow and steady, but there’s a slight wildness in his movements that makes you arch up into him. His hands roam your body, gripping your hips, kneading and squeezing your breasts. His mouth covers yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, his tongue sliding in and out of your mouth in the same rhythm as his cock sliding in and out of your cunt. He overwhelms your senses in the best way possible and all you can do is wrap yourself around him and meet the maddening rock of his hips with your own.

He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes are slightly unfocused in a way that makes you ache because you immediately know he’s close—and the fact that he’s close because of you is incredibly arousing.

“I’m going to come inside you,” he says, his voice rough. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you breathe, tensing around him.

“You’re going to come with me,” he says, and despite the wanting in his voice and the desperate hunger in his eyes, his tone is still commanding and sure in a way that makes you shiver in anticipation.

And despite the fact that he’s already made you come so many times already, you know that he’s right.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” he says, somehow managing another one of those wicked grins that goes straight to your cunt. “You’re going to come on my cock like a good girl while I spill myself in your tight, wet cunt.”

“Yes.” Your brain works in fits and starts now as he takes you higher and higher. Yes. Yes. More. Please. More. Please. Yes…

He grinds his hips into you, his pubic bone pressing against your clit in a way that makes you see stars.

“Come with me.”

Bliss overtakes you and you come hard, only this time, it’s different because this time Loki is cursing and moaning with you and shuddering through his own orgasm and that alone seems to extend yours as he spills himself deep inside you. His thrusts become erratic and slow until he finally stills, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

The weight of him is comforting and solid, anchoring you as you slowly regain control of your senses. You can’t help but feel a small flash of pride over the way his breath is still a little ragged against your neck, how he stays pressed inside you, how you can feel his heart pounding hard.

After a few minutes, he lifts his head. You expect him to set about the business of cleaning up, but instead, he kisses you. It’s surprisingly tender and slow, especially for a tryst that you fully expect he’ll end tonight. Now that he’s had you, surely there are others who will occupy his attention.

The thought makes you a little sad, though you don’t like admitting it.

He pulls back slightly after a moment. “I believe I’ve properly atoned for teasing you these last few days,” he says with a lazy smirk.

You raise an eyebrow. “There was an awful lot of teasing, your highness.”

He grins. “I suppose I’ll have to try harder tomorrow.”

It’s probably not a good idea to continue this, but it’s more difficult to keep yourself from smiling as he kisses you again.

Next chapter

#loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki fanfiction #as the clock strikes midnight

112 notes · View notes

anthropologyruinseverything · 4 months ago

Text

“Got You”

Jey Uso x IndigenousFMC

8 chapters- 22k words

🚨It’s so smutty I’m so sorry - no one under 18 plz!

🚨 second alarm, there is a triggering scene but it is an attempted assault that is interrupted - there is a note around it so it is easy to skip!

Just collecting all 4 parts into one loooong post. It’s unedited so I apologize for mistakes and timelines messiness

Summary: Rori Begay is Jey Uso’s nanny. Inappropriate feelings begin to brew between them over lockdown and they try to avoid it. Unfortunately the violence in Rori’s home life boils over and so do their feelings for each other when he comes to her rescue.

Chapter 1:

Aurora POV

“My Rori’s here!” Jason lunged from his father’s arms into mine as soon as I made it through the door of the unassuming but well kept blue house.

“Hey little dude!” I gladly received the three year old, doing my best to avoid touching Josh too much in doing so. Every time we so much as brushed hands it caused a rolling wave of butterflies and warmth. Not unpleasant but also not an appropriate thing to feel for someone who was technically my boss. And the last thing I needed in my life right now was to lose my job, especially over a stupid crush.

Due to the pandemic ramping up Josh was home from his job that normally demanded a lot of travel. Even though he wasn’t traveling he still had commitments and a job that required several hours of training daily in the gym on top of meetings and zoom calls. He’d explained the plan his company had until they could safely begin touring again, a plan that would see them staying here in Florida for several months to a year.

Long enough for me to save up enough to get out of my own place, even if my mother was demanding a high rent. I was glad I’d fibbed about just how much Josh was paying me weekly or she would have demanded even more.

“Swim! Swim! Wanna go swimming!” I juggled the excited toddler in my arms trying not to drop my day bag.

Coming to the rescue Josh grabbed the green backpack and smiled at me in a way that turned my insides to mush. “We gotta eat first little man.”

“Are you free today?” I hoped I didn’t sound as excited as I felt. At first I’d found it odd he still wanted me there even when he wasn’t going to be busy for the day but quickly started to look forward to spending time with both of them.

“Yeah, my meetings were cancelled. I was thinking I’d join y’all for swimming lessons and whatever else you got planned. If that’s cool with you.”

As if I was going to say no.

I looked at Jason with a grin. “Whaddya think? Want Daddy to hang out with us today?”

“Hang out with daddy AND Rori! Swim!”

“What about you?” It was hard not to read too much into his expression or the way his voice seemed to drop a little. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Oh, of course. He’s trying to be considerate of my feelings as a person and I’m drooling at the way his voice changes when he is speaking to another adult. I swallowed my embarrassment and put on a big grin. “Not at all, it’ll be great to hangout! Now how about some breakfast?”

There wasn’t much Jason loved more than swimming but one thing was for certain.

“PANCAKES!”

—-

Jey POV

It did things to me when she called me “Daddy”, even if it was in this context.

Maybe I could get Joe or Braun to hit me in the head next time we’re wrestling.

Really, really hard.

Well, maybe not Braun, I didn’t want to die after all.

I needed some sense knocked back into me around this girl though. I can’t keep my eyes off her and thought about her way too often. She’s only eighteen and I should not be feeling this way about my sons *nanny.* Watching her as she moved around the kitchen, letting little man help her with making breakfast it brought an excited sense of peace.

My eyes dutifully followed the sway of her curvy bottom as she sidestepped small feet with a laugh. I wanted to wind my hands into that waist length brunette hair while I devoured her pouty lips.

Wanted to see her pretty green eyes tear up with those lips wrapped around my dick.

I wanted a lot of things from Miss Aurora Begay.

Isolating was hard, I hadn’t had a chance to go out or hookup with a chick since New Year’s Eve. Maybe that was my problem. She was close, pretty and had a great laugh.

But the truth was I hadn’t wanted someone so bad in a long time. Jason’s mom had burned me pretty hard when she decided she didn’t want to be invested in his life, or mine.

You travel too much she’d said. Come to find out “you travel too much” really meant I’d rather be fucking other dudes in another country.

More power to her. We’d started out casual but when she fell pregnant I’d stepped up and even offered to marry her and let myself get invested. Not the best way to start but I was willing to give it a shot for him.

“How many?”

“Huh?”

Rori pulled me out of my thoughts with a light tough to my shoulder and a giggle. She smiled down at me. “I asked you how many pancakes would you like? I’m using the protein mix.”

Of course she’d ferreted out the healthiest pancakes for someone with my training regime. She was always doing thoughtful shit like that and I loved it. Loved that she would modify things for me, make me a plate or keep one warm for me in the oven when something ran longer than planned.

It was hard not to let all that spill.

She raised her eyebrows. “Josh?”

I’m so fucked.

“Uh, make it four.”

Thirty minutes later and I’m waiting for them the come downstairs. Jason appeared at the top of the steps first in his matching swimming trunks and shirt all decked out with tiger sharks. His favorite animal at the moment. He proudly held up his shark goggles. “Look daddy, I’m a shark!”

In a weird way I was grateful for the lockdown. I’d never been able to spend so much time with him and it made me happier than I’d ever been. “I see little man! Where’s Rori?”

“Coming, sorry!”

Chapter 2 -

Aurora POV

Josh stood at the bottom of the steps in nothing but black swimming trunks. My mouth went dry and heart pounded as I tried not to stare at him while Jason and I made our way downstairs hand in hand. It was tough though, his dark bronze skin and spiraling tattoos were mesmerizing.

He’d given me a cursory glance before looking away and even though I’m not terribly vain, it stung my pride a little. I should be ashamed that I picked the cheap and simple but pretty blue mesh halter and boy short set because I thought be would like it. As if he’d ever look at me the same way I do him.

Tucking the sadness away I padded out to the pool with Jason who was already fighting with his arm floats before he’d made it to the water. “Here let me help-“

The words were cut off by splash of water, my own shriek of surprise and Jason’s shriek of laughter. Josh had blown by us to canon ball into the water before surfacing with a challenging smirk.

It would be hard to ignore the heat pooling between my legs.

Well, until little man threw his arms up and demanded to be thrown in for a big splash that is. Happy to oblige and to cool off I scooped him up and we jumped in. What I’d planned as a swimming lesson turned into lots of laughing and splashing with Jason getting brave enough to paddle back and forth between us a few times.

After a while he was tired and become more preoccupied with making his pool toy shark eat his other action figures. Josh drifted over to where I stood in the shallow water while Jason played nearby on the step. “Hey.”

“Hey?”

“What happened here?” Gently he brought his fingers to a healing bruise on my arm. Anxiety twisted my stomach painfully. I had to come up with something, my mother had trained me to lie about this sort of thing.

“Oh, uh, I just, I just dropped something when I was reaching for a can on a shelf at home. Clumsy, just brought my arm up so it wouldn’t like hit me on the face or anything. Nothing, no worries.” I realized I was rambling when his brow furrowed and he narrowed his eyes.

Fuck. He didn’t need to know mom’s latest boyfriend was a real dick, even for her.

“A can huh?”

The truth was I hadn’t moved fast enough to get out of his way a couple days ago and so he grabbed me by the arm, hard enough to leave those prints, shook me and slung me across the room. Not the first time one of the men she’d brought home had done something similar but no one had ever really paid attention and my mom had threatened me with much worse if I ever told.

“Yeah, just a stupid accident.” I tried to smile reassuringly but could tell it wasn’t working. Josh opened his mouth but fortunately for me, little man chose then to pounce, throwing himself at us with abandon only a happy toddler could achieve.

“Make splashes Rori!”

“You sure did! How about we get dried off and go watch a movie?” I was grateful for the distraction. Hopefully he would let it go.

—-

Jey POV

Late that night I laid in bed scrolling through photos from the last few weeks, looking for clues and wracking my brain for an explanation. Aurora had never lied to me before and I should have her drug tested if she thought I bought that story about the can. I know what a bruise from someone gripping you too tightly looks like. Why was she being so evasive about it?

*Does she have a boyfriend? Some little shit who thinks he’s tough?*

An intense anger erupted in my chest at the thought of anyone putting their hands on her. In any way. Thinking about her kissing someone else, *fucking* someone else, made me physically sick.

I resolved to get the the bottom of it. Why weren’t her parents doing anything about it? Did they notice?

Wait. Does she live with them?

It dawned on me that I know next to nothing about her or her living situation. Most of our conversations revolve around Jason or the chores or how my day had been or what I wanted for dinner. I knew she was a college student and we’d chatted about a few times about things like music or movies or my job but never had she mentioned her family or friends or relationships at all, except one girl named Jamie. And all I knew about her was that they’d seen a movie together recently.

I’d snapped a few pictures today. Only one of just her but that was the one I settled on looking at. She stood mid thigh in the pool, her golden skin wet and the red of her messy bun stood out in the sunlight. The swimsuit wasn’t too revealing but I’d almost embarrassed myself. Seeing her coming down the steps it that simple but sexy outfit had me at half mast in no time, I’d had no choice but to hustle my ass into the cold pool or risk her noticing.

Looking at the picture now I had the same problem, my cock twitching to life at the thought of tasting her everywhere. Closing my eyes I dropped my phone and let myself pull my boxers down. Picturing her sweet smile I imagined she was there with me, straddling my waist, her walls clenched tightly around me.

Slowly I started stroking myself, imaginary Aurora’s movements were careful and shy and gentle, just like everything else about her. Her small hands braced against my chest, fingers digging in as her cheeks flushed with pleasure and she panted in need.

*”Daddy, please.”*

Increasing my pace I imagined taking control, clutching her hips and bracing myself with my ankles as I thrust up at a much more aggressive pace. My knees drew up and I clutched the sheet with my free hand as her cries filled my ears.

*”Harder Daddy, yes yes! I’m gonna cum!”*

I didn’t fight the groan that rose in my throat as I sped up even more. It was my fantasy and we would finish together.

“Fuck Rori, baby…” I bit my lip when I came, spilling hot ropes of cum onto my stomach as my hips bucked and twitched. For a few seconds I lay there panting.

I’d lost count of how many times I’d gotten off this exact same way now. I knew I should stop but it was becoming something of an obsession. It wouldn’t be the first time in my life I’d developed a fixation, just not quite so focused in on a particular female before.

I hoped it would pass when the lockdowns lifted and I could go out again but deep inside I knew that wouldn’t be the case.

No, something about those big hazel eyes and loving personality had dug itself deep inside me. I swiped at the mess I’d made with my shirt before throwing it in the hamper in the corner of the room. A twisted part of me hoped she’d notice when she did laundry and wonder if I was thinking about her but the realistic part of me would kick in and handle the mess in the morning.

Settling in to the covers I hoped she was comfortable and safe, wherever she was.

Chapter 3

Aurora POV -

I didn’t mind biking the thirty minutes from the trailer park where I lived to the nice suburb. Being alone with my music and a direction was meditative. This morning however it wasn’t as nice as usual. Unable to stand for leverage I was moving slower than usual, my injured right side making the whole process more difficult.

Janine’s latest catch, ‘Paul’, was becoming increasingly violent. I did my best to stay out of his way but the two bedroom single wide trailer was tiny, cramped and rundown. Most of my time at home was spent locked up in my bedroom, venturing out only to fix everyone dinner or use the restroom.

Not long now and I would be able to afford a deposit for a room somewhere. I let daydreams of the day I left that place forever fuel me through the pain in my ribs and ankle. I’d gotten distracted, inadvertently letting the dinner pot boil over. Paul took offense and sent me to the floor with a nasty shove before a swift kick to the ribs. I’d scrambled to my feet and limped to my room, slamming the door shut and locking it behind me. A fresh wave of anxiety shuddered through me.

I planned to ask Josh today if he would show me a few things I could do to be stronger and defend myself better. It might rouse his suspicions but I was just going to tell him a half truth, I wanted to be safe when I returned to campus someday. That was a safe and believable excuse in my mind.

Taking a deep breath I tried to force myself to walk normally in spite of the sharp pain that came with each step. Maybe I was naive to think I could disguise my injuries but I was going to try.

Answering the door rather quickly he welcomed me in and our day progressed as usual. Fortunately for me Josh had to tend to those cancelled meetings and would be busy until lunch time. I thought I had it under control with some Tylenol but was proven wrong.

Jason wanted a specific shark cup and plate set that was stored on a high shelf. Normally pulling out the little step stool and grabbing those things wouldn’t have been an issue.

Normally.

When I tried to put weight on that right ankle it gave and I yelped, falling backwards fully expecting to land hard on the kitchen tile.

Instead a strong pair of arms encircled my middle and I made contact with a hard, warm chest instead of cold, unforgiving floor. The pressure on my ribs hurt and I gasped, clutching at Josh’s forearms.

“Rori!” Jason’s alarmed voice hit my ears and I immediately tried to right myself and go to him but struggling against the hold hurt too much.

“It’s okay kiddo, I got her. Where are you hurt? Other than your foot?”

“Ribs.” It hurt to take in a breath to speak.

Nodding he maneuvered one arm under my knees and one under my shoulders, easily hefting me up into his arms. “I got you.”

I wanted to curl into a ball and never look at him again, this was too embarrassing. Settling me in a chair at the kitchen table he took a very clinical approach to examining my ankle and ribs. If I hadn’t been so upset the feeling of his fingers dancing on my rib cage would have made me dizzy. He let me catch my breath before asking the dreaded question.

“What happened Rori?” Josh sounded calm and collected as he went to retrieve an ice pack. Passing it to me he set about fixing lunch while waiting patiently for an answer.

“I tripped walking up my steps last night and fell. Nothing major, just some bruises.”

“You’re lucky they’re not broken.” My stomach dropped. It sounded like he was scolding me.

“Rori okay?”

“Yeah little man, I’m all good! Just an accident, no big deal!” I raised my hands in the air and smiled at Jason who looked relieved before going back to playing with his toys.

Josh set lunch on the table, ravioli, before collecting the little boy and depositing him in his booster seat next to me. Sitting down on my other side all of his moments were stiff. “You wouldn’t lie to me would you?”

My palms went sweaty and my heart pounded. I hoped my panic didn’t show on my face. Not trusting my voice I shook my head no and stuffed a piece of pasta in my mouth, making a pleased sound. I swallowed the food and the emotion all in one go. “No. I’m so sorry. It shouldn’t stop me from what I need to do again.”

“It’s fine. You rode your bike here yeah?”

I nodded and shoveled another bite in my mouth to avoid talking.

“Me and Jason are gonna drive you home this afternoon, once my meetings are done.”

A fresh wave of panic rolled through me. “No-no, please you don’t have to do that.”

“You’re in no shape to be riding your bike anywhere.” His voice was so cold. It made me want to cry.

“I don’t want to be a pain. I can ride the bus-“

Jason and I both jumped when Josh slapped the table. He seemed to catch himself before slamming it with full force but still made a loud noise. Quickly he looked at his son with a grin to ease any fear the little boy had.

But when he turned to me I could see it didn’t reach his eyes. His expression flattened out and it was like he was reigning himself back in.

I squeezed my thighs together as a confusing rush of emotions hit me. Fear of the consequences since I’d angered him and a strange flash of arousal that felt out of place but there it was all the same.

“Don’t argue with me.”

“Yes sir.”

—

Jey POV

Sitting through these afternoon meetings around the new Bloodline merchandise was torture. I’d never been a fan of this side of the job anyway and whatever was going on with Aurora was eating at me. Had I been a little bit of a bully and let my anger win for a minute? Absolutely but it will get me what I want which is some more information.

I was pretty sure someone was hurting her at home or she had a boyfriend. Thinking through my options I texted my twin who was also on the zoom call looking like he’d rather eat a shoe than look at yet another piece of concept art.

‘**Can yall take little man this weekend?**

I watched him respond on the call.

**’Yeah, you got something to do?’**

**Yeah**

It wasn’t often that I hid things from Jon but he didn’t need to know I was planning on essentially stalking my barely legal nanny for a couple of days. I sure as hell didn’t want to see Trinity’s face if she found out. But I had to know what was going on and figure out how to help her.

As of right now my plan was little more than to storm in, beat the ever living shit out of whoever I needed to, sweep her up and move her into my home and bed permanently. Far from foolproof but it was a work progress.

Finally the meeting came to a close. Heading downstairs I took a few deep breaths to make sure I had my temper fully back under control. It had been hard not to shake her by the shoulders and demand she tell me the truth so I’d settled on slapping the table for emphasis. I’d instantly felt like a jerk when both Jason and Aurora jumped in fear but we’d recovered.

The sounds of their laughter came from the kitchen, she was letting Jason ‘help’ her make pizza for dinner. Looked more to me like she was chasing the veggies he threw every which direction except at the dough in front of him but I enjoyed watching them together all the same. She genuinely seemed to enjoy spending time with him and he loved her already, taking to calling her “my Rori”. Clearing my throat to announce my presence I felt a stab of regret when anxiety fell over her face and she quieted instantly. Jason on the other hand clambered down from the step stool and rushed over, arms outstretched.

“Daddy! Look, making pizzas!” He waved excitedly towards where Rori leaned against the counter next to the bowls of ingredients. I tried to smile reassuringly at her but she just ducked her head, hiding her face with her hair.

“Nice, want some extra help Rori?” Jason was already trying to get down and back into the mix so I let him. It wasn’t the nicest thing, forcing her to talk to me, but she’ll learn to speak up for herself in time.

She would have to as my woman. I don’t know exactly when I decided that was going to happen but here we are.

Finally glancing up at me she bit her lip nervously. “Yes sir.”

An image of her doing that while on her knees in front of me flashed through my mind. I liked that a little too much, liked this oddly submissive behavior. It told me a lot to, her response to my anger. Fawning is what they call it, if I recalled the therapist correctly.

I stepped into her space deliberately, causing her to shy away from my hand. Persisting I gently caught her chin with my thumb and forefinger making her eyes go wide. Tempting as it was to push further and run my thumb over her abused lip I settled for making her look at me.

“M’sorry I scared you earlier.”

She blinked, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “You’re what?”

I snorted. “Girl I’m tryin to apologize to you. Pay attention.”

To her credit she recovered quickly. “I’m sorry, I am. I - it’s okay. Let’s get these pizzas in the oven.”

She pulled away but before I saw her pulse pounding in her neck and her eyes dilate. It was obvious she was into what I was doing. Perfect.

A little over an hour later found us loading up her bike into the back of my truck and heading down the highway. It never ceased to amaze me what being on either side of the highway could look like. Some trailer parks were nice with well kept homes, flowers and friendly neighbors. Some were like ‘Martin’s Cove’ complete with meth trailers, cars on blocks and folks toting guns in the waist bands of their jeans. I bristled at the thought of leaving her here but dutifully got out to retrieve her bike once we’d pulled up to #37.

An ugly white man stood on the porch with a stupid look on his face. I hated him. Rori’s face showed a flicker of fear when her eyes landed on him and I wanted to kill him. I had a feeling I knew who was leaving the bruises. I held onto her bike when she went to take it from me.

“Uh, Josh? I got it. Thank you so much again.” I could feel my blood pounding in my ears. The man hadn’t spoken but hadn’t looked away from Aurora either.

“Promise to call if you ever need help.” She tilted her head but must have remembered earlier today.

“Okay, I promise.”

I nodded. “I’ll pull up at eight.”

It made me physically sick to let her walk away but I did it. Once they’d both gone inside I pulled away. Jason fell asleep before we made it home so I got him tucked into bed and set about putting a bag together for his stay at his aunt and uncles this weekend.

I was too worried to sleep well, knowing full well she could be in trouble. Instead I found myself praying whatever gods or ancestors might be listening. The morning couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter 4

Aurora POV

I stood on the embarrassingly cluttered porch the following morning at 7:30 A.M. Janine and Paul were still in bed. Much to my surprise they hadn’t questioned me in depth, instead disappearing into her room after I made their dinner. I checked the calendar, it was the third.

Ah, her disability check had come in. They’d be flush with drugs for a couple days.

Great, that usually meant they’d leave me alone. And they had. Looking back at the front door yet again, it felt as if it were going to open and swallow me. That’s how it felt to walk into this house, like I was being eaten by a beast snd may never claw my way out.

Turning back I settled on the steps, flipping through my music. “Dirty Thoughts” started playing and I felt a flush start up my neck remembering what I’d done listening to this song last night. After securing my door that lacked a proper lock I’d lain in bed playing my interactions with Josh over in my head. Mostly the feeling of his thick arms and hard chest and calloused hands.

Only a few times, mostly due to lack of privacy, did I indulge the growing heat between my legs. Thinking about Josh had made the throbbing ache there unbearable and when I slid my fingers below the elastic waistband of my underwear I found myself soaked. While still very much a virgin I’d read enough romance novels to know what my body wanted from him. My heart and mind did too but they were a lot harder to make happy.

Carefully I’d started to feel myself, fingers dipping into my wet slit to awkwardly circle my clit while my other hand cupped a breast, lightly playing over a sensitive nipple. My inexperience was a pain though and after a few moments of awkward strokes I was worse off than before I started. Annoyed at myself for struggling I switched tactics to what I knew would provide at least a little relief.

Grabbing my ancient pillow I shoved it between my legs, balled up and pressed tightly to the small bud I was struggling to figure out. Closing my eyes I’d imagined sitting on his lap, straddling one of his big thighs while his hands cupped my bottom and his voice, deep and husky with want, encouraged me to move.

*”C’mon girl, that’s it. Move for Daddy.”*

It shamed me to think of him that way but I was so lost to the feeling it didn’t stick. Doing as imaginary Josh instructed I ground against the pillow, desperately seeking the short but intense flashes of pleasure it brought. If I did it long and hard enough I’d get a sharp spike that would somewhat ease the tension filling my body. It was nothing like “rolling waves” I read about but it did the trick and wore me out enough to sleep.

The sound of his truck rumbling up pulled me out of my memory and I stood, checking the time. 7:40 A.M., he was early. I needed to get myself under control, this crush was a distraction I didn’t need. What I needed was to get the hell out of this place before things escalated further and finish my degree.

And yeah I wanted kids and a husband and all that lovely stuff but I wasn’t naive enough to believe that Josh was the guy. He smiled at me, opening the passenger door and ushering me in. My heart did a cartwheel in my chest.

He had his choice of anyone. It would never be me and I was alright with that.

It didn’t stop me from wishing it were though.

“My Rori!” Jason’s voice was music to my ears. It was just Josh I’d fallen hard for after all. The toddler waving happily from his car seat in the back lit up my world and motivated me to get out of bed some mornings when I was depressed.

“Hey little man!” I smiled at him before turning to Josh as he pulled out of our driveway. This felt so normal and nice it was almost enough to make me forget where we were driving away from.

“Mornin. How was your night?” I noticed the dark circles under his eyes.

I blushed in spite of myself. “It was good. How about you?”

Josh raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on the red in my cheeks. “S’fine.”

I mulled over my idea about asking for his help while chattering along with Jason. I’d couched the idea when he was so stern yesterday but he didn’t seem angry any longer and had apologized after all. By the time we pulled into the driveway I’d made up my mind. I spoke before he could open the door.

“Hey, Josh?”

“Hmm?” He tilted his head my way.

“Could-is it okay to ask- because if not I understand-“

“It’s fine just ask your question baby.”

My brain shorted out for a split second. He’s tired, don’t overthink it.

“Can you show me how to like, get stronger? And maybe how to, ya know, throw a punch? For when I go back to campus.” I bit my lip nervously, his expression was so neutral it was impossible to know what he was thinking.

Josh reached over to give my knee a squeeze and my warmth flooded through me. It was so quick I wondered if I’d imagined it but the genuinely warm half smile said otherwise.

“Hell yeah I’ll show you some stuff.”

My heart pounded as I followed the boys inside. I have to get a grip, he’s just being nice. A single quick squeeze doesn’t mean he’s into me.

I noticed the bag of Jason’s things on the couch and my heart dropped. If he was going somewhere else I may not have work for a while.

“Is little man going somewhere?”

“Yeah, my brother’s coming by to get him later, just for the weekend. I’m gonna get some sleep but we can workout some this afternoon, if you’re up for starting now. Just have to work around what’s hurtin.”

My heart soared. “Great, thank you so much.”

——

Jey POV

It was easy to sleep knowing she was safe downstairs with Jason and I made up for what I lost the night before. In my dreams Rori was beneath me, writhing in

pleasure while her fingernails dug into my shoulders and her lips whispered my name over and over like a prayer. Her voice got louder the closer she came to orgasm and I ground into her harder and harder.

“Josh…Josh…Hey Josh?”

Her voice went from thick with pleasure to confusingly loud. Slowly I became aware of someone shaking my shoulder.

“Huh?”

There was a soft giggle from next to me as the bed dipped a little. I realized the object of my dreams was sitting next to me nudging my shoulder. At the same time I realized I had a raging hard on.

“Jon’s here, figured you’d want to say bye to Jason before they took off.”

Shit was it after five already?

I had to get rid of her so I could get this under control. “Yeah. Be right there.”

When I didn’t move immediately she jumped up and ran like she’d been scalded. Maybe she realized she may have crossed a line coming in here, even if it was to get me up for something important.

I couldn’t wait to cross a hell of a lot more lines with her in this room.

But right this minute I needed to get myself presentable, something easy enough to achieve, at least temporarily, with a few deep breaths and splashing some ice cold water on my face.

Loading Jason into the car didn’t take long, he always loved staying with his cousins. Hugging him one last time I stepped back. My brother looked at me from the drivers seat, clearly wanting an explanation. Clapping his shoulder I smiled. “Thanks, got a leak and it’ll just be a lot easier to have guys out to fix it without him under my feet.”

The suspicion in his face melted away and we said our goodbyes. I’d miss Jason but I was excited about “working out” with Aurora, all alone. Not to mention I’d finally have a good chance to question her some. She stood in the kitchen tying up her hair when I walked back in.

“You ready?”

Aurora swallowed but nodded and I noticed her eyes flicker over me. My cock twitched, it was hot thinking she wanted me too. I still needed to clarify whether or not she had a boyfriend and while I couldn’t be certain it was that weird guy at her house who was hurting her I was pretty confident that was the case.

“Good, c’mon.” Leading her into the gym I flicked the lights on.

About 45 minutes later and she flopped on the floor, panting but smiling. Turns out she could throw a decent punch already. Settling behind her on my knees I let my hands fall on her shoulders and waited to see what she would do. Aurora stiffened but didn’t pull away so I slowly began to knead the muscles.

“You did good.” I don’t know if it was my fingers or my words that did it but she moaned softly, her cheeks blushing.

“Thank you.” Her voice was soft and shy.

Continuing up her neck I was gentle as I worked the tension there, surprised at just how tight she was. I decided to get down to what I wanted to know. “Got a boyfriend Rori?”

She blinked her pretty hazel eyes before huffing out a nervous laugh. “A boyfriend? No.”

Relieved, I let that concern go. “Aight. I didn’t think that guy in the porch yesterday was him but ya know, wanted to make sure.” I dug my fingers in a little harder and she drew in a breath with a gasp. My thumbs worked their way down her shoulder blades and her eyes drifted closed. Her muscles quivered under the threadbare tshirt she wore but my eyes were trained on the wet skin of her jaw and neck. I imagined what it would taste like to run my tongue along them in a long stroke.

“Nah, that’s just my mom’s latest boyfriend.”

“Latest?” I didn’t like the sound of that and based on where they lived I doubted these were high quality men drifting in and out of their lives. Already I hated this woman for putting Aurora in danger.

“Yeah, she’s just…I don’t know. She’s got some issues.” Aurora trailed off and I debated how hard to push. This was more than I’d gotten out of her before but I didn’t want her to shut down if I asked the wrong thing. I kept massaging her neck, working my way a little lower to her collar bone and she didn’t resist.

“How’s that feel?”

“Mmm, good.” Just when I thought she was really going to relax into me her phone buzzed. I hated the way she looked panicked when she opened the message. “Oh no, it’s getting really late, I should go.”

Reluctantly I let her stand and got to my feet as well. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.”

Her nerves seemed to get worse and worse during the car ride. Every instinct in me screamed to make her stay, to not drop her off at that trailer. Something bad was going to happen and I knew it.

This time I reached over her to stop her from opening the door with one hand and grabbed her knee with the other. “Aurora look at me.”

She was startled but did as I asked.

“You don’t have to get out of this truck. But if you do, just promise to call me if you’re in trouble.” For a second I thought she was going to stay or maybe burst into tears. Instead she took a deep breath and smiled at me but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I promise. Again.”

I squeezed her leg one more time before sitting back and letting her go. Something screamed at me to stop her but I didn’t.

I’d regret that sooner than later.

Chapter 5

Aurora POV -

I knew something was up the minute I walked in the front door, a sixth sense of sorts from years of living with a volatile drug addict. My heart skipped a beat when I realized my mother was in the dingy kitchenette stirring away at something on the stove. She never cooked anymore and anything out of the ordinary was cause for concern.

“Oh you’re home, I wondered if we’d see you tonight.”

Stomach twisting I approached her carefully. I’d only responded to her message five times apologizing for being late. “I’m sorry mama, I had to stay late for work.”

“You’re sure it was just for work? I didn’t see a baby in the car today.” Of course she’d been watching from the windows.

“Yes mama, Mr. Fatu offered me rides and I felt rude saying no.” Her face pinched but she recovered into a smile. I could feel the dread building in my lower spine.

“Go sit down honey, dinner is ready and Paul just pulled up with his friend.” Almost anyone else would have written her words off as a normal statement but from her it was a threat, I just didn’t know for what.

“Yes ma’am.”

Paul came clattering in followed closely by another white man who looked meaner and uglier than him. He smiled when he saw me, licking his chapped lips from behind a patchy beard. I shivered in disgust.

“This here is Danny. Aurora, be nice and say hi.” Awkwardly I waved, in fear of what would happen if I didn’t.

He looked at Paul with his beady, murky blue eyes. “She always quiet?”

Paul nodded. “Whaddya think?”

Danny smirked. “How much did you say?”

My heart plummeted to my feet as I stood. “What’s going on?”

All three other people stopped what they were doing. Danny looked amused and Paul looked at my mother expectantly. She came to pat my shoulder with a fake, cold smile.

“Well since you’ve been whoring yourself to your boss we figured you wouldn’t mind if we set you up with some new clients. And this way we make sure we get our cut, fair and square.” Her voice was so calm, mocking me with how caring and sweet she sounded even though her words were poison.

My jaw fell open and my stomach heaved. I couldn’t believe what just was hearing.

“I’m not sleeping with my boss!”

She’d sunk low before but this was completely unreal. I couldn’t believe she would actually agree to pimp me out.

“So, uh, where we gonna do this?” Danny reminded me of his presence.

I wanted to claw the nasty man’s eyes out and run. To where?

*Josh.*

“We’re not! Mom, tell him this is ridiculous, you can’t be serious!”

Pulling out my phone I got off a single message to Josh before Paul was snatching for it.

“SOS” with an alarm emoji.

^^^Trigger warning for attempted SA scene^^^

“Her bedroom is that way.” I’d never hated her so much as I did in that moment when she pointed down the narrow hall.

“No! Mom! Mom!” I shrieked as each man grabbed an arm and begin pulling me.

Danny snarled when I twisted and landed a nasty blow between my shoulders, sending me to the floor. He looked at Paul who gave me another swift kick to the side. “Didn’t tell me you hadn’t broken her in yet.”

“I’ll let you have the next session for free if you wanna help with that.”

With a shrug the other man grabbed my wrist and pulled hard in spite of my struggling. Throwing me onto my rickety twin bed I scrambled, trying to get to a weapon but he was already laying into me with the leather belt he’d pulled from around his waist. My ancient tshirt gave way easily under his hands, giving him direct access to the flesh of my back and shoulders. Blows rained down, burning so fiercely my eyes stung with tears. I curled into the fetal position, covering my head and trying to escape the worst of it.

He stopped hitting me to wrap the leather strap around my wrists and flipped me onto my abused back. Kicking at him didn’t do much even with my healthy ankle. I was tired and sore from the injuries and work out Josh had put me through earlier. My strength to fight was waining fast but I couldn’t just give up. Danny responded to a kick in the shoulder with a powerful punch to the stomach, making me gag and cough.

My jeans didn’t come off as easily as my tshirt but he managed with a few vicious yanks. I didn’t know how to get out of this. Closing my eyes I tried to picture Josh, Jason, my friends, my school, anything to get away from the gut wrenching reality of what was happening. My mother had sold me to this man and his awfully slimy hands were running up my thighs and over my ribs to squeeze my breasts with so much force it tore a lot sob of pain out of my chest.

End of triggering scene

And then, with a yelp of pained surprise, he was gone. For a few seconds all I could hear was the thundering of my pulse but once my body realized he was no longer bearing down on me my senses began to adjust. Shouts and thuds from the living room went on for a few more moments before a particularly nasty sounding crash and then it all went quiet. Unsure of what was going on I remained where I was, shaking and trying to get a grip on my breathing.

Finally I could hear a voice speaking clearly. A voice I knew.

“Don’t move you fuckin cunt.”

Josh appeared in the doorway of my tiny and now destroyed room looking every inch the enraged hero he was. With what strength I had left I launched myself into his arms and he met me halfway, scooping me up and holding me against his chest tightly while I buried my face in his neck.

He pressed his lips to the top of my head and spoke softly. “Do you need anything at all from here?”

I shook my head, unable to form words. With shaking hands he pulled the belt from around my wrists and threw it. Snatching the thin blanket he wrapped it around my shoulders before standing, holding me up bridal style. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders I leaned into him like I never had another.

I’d needed him and there he was.

He’d *saved* me.

The carnage in the living room was testament to his anger. Both men were laid out in the remains of the broken kitchen table, Danny bleeding from a head wound onto the floor. The door had been kicked in and Josh walked through splinters from the flimsy piece of fake wood he’d demolished like he owned the place. My mother sat wordlessly on the couch, her eyes wide in terror as she watched him stalk across the room and out the door.

I wouldn’t remember being bundled or being carried into the house or being carefully dressed in his clothes.

All the rest I would remember from that night came as Josh tucked me into bed next to him, his arms wound tightly around me as he whispered comforting words. Turning slightly I let my heart take the lead for once in my life.

Pressing my lips to his softly as I touched his face I said the only thing I could think of.

“Thank you.”

Reciprocating my kiss gently he held me tighter still. “S’okay now, Daddy’s got you.”

——

Jey POV

My plan may not have been foolproof but it had worked and Rori would never be going back to that awful place. Each time she woke up crying and screaming for me it wrenched my heart and made me murderous at the same. I hoped I’d done permanent damage and seriously considered going back to make sure the job was done.

While I’d let her go I hadn’t gone far, just pulling off the road about a mile away to mull over my options. Banging on the trailer door within minutes after getting her text her mother had creaked it open and tried to tell me to mind my own business and go away.

So I’d done the logical thing and kicked the damn thing as hard as I could, flimsy wood exploding everywhere on impact. Even as angry as I was I wouldn’t hurt a woman but Rori’s sad excuse for a mother didn’t know that. I’d sent her down to the couch with a relatively soft shove, at least compared to what I did to her man, and fear did the rest.

Paul got a firm right to the jaw before a couple swift kicks to the ribs just to show him how it felt. The other male, whose name I didn’t bother to learn, was dealt a couple body blows and some well aimed shots to the face before I threw him head first through their shitty table. The irony of that was the only part of the whole ordeal that made my mouth twitch to remember.

Just because I only pretended to throw hands on television didn’t mean I couldn’t fuck someone up for real if I decided to.

Aurora stirring in my arms got my attention. At first she burrowed deeper into my side, her cheek pressed into my collarbone. Thankfully it seemed like she was just waking up naturally rather than being scared awake by a nightmare. Ten hours punctuated by several rounds of panic wouldn’t be nearly enough to fully recover but maybe I could get her to eat something or shower before sleep claimed her again. Pressing my lips to her forehead I smiled and tried to be reassuring. “Hey sleepy head.”

She jumped so hard it was like I’d electrocuted her and I immediately felt bad for breaking the spell. Tumbling out of the bed Aurora yelped in pain when she hit the dark wood floor. Not what I had been expecting. Kicking the covers off my own legs I knelt down next to her and touched her leg gently. Her hazel eyes were blown wide and she looked a little dazed.

“Hey, hey you with me baby?”

Her throat moved as she swallowed and it looked uncomfortable. “I- Jesus Christ.” Burying her face in her hands she began to sob. Hard, heaving cries from deep in her chest. Pulling her into my lap I let her cling to me and cry it out. I could only imagine how she must feel.

I wasn’t sure how long we sat there with her fist balled into my shirt and her tears soaking it but my left foot had gone completely numb by the time her sobs quieted into hiccups.

“She sold me.” I hated hearing her normally lyrical accent so hoarse and broken. She’d never cry so hard again, I’d make sure of it.

“I know baby girl.” I was very gentle with where I rubbed her arms and sides, minding as best I could all the places she was bruised.

“Why? I was paying her rent, she could have just asked for more money. I could have got another job. I could have worked nights or-or-“

“Aurora.” She paused and I cupped her chin, gently making her look at me. “There was nothing you coulda done. That’s greed baby, greed and addiction.”

Her eyes welled with fresh tears and she sniffed. “She’s gonna be so mad.”

As realization took hold I could see the panic in her swell. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no, I don’t - I haven’t been able to get a room somewhere yet and she’s not gonna let me come back after that. Not unless…” Her voice dropped off and she shuddered.

I waited another beat to make sure she was done talking. “You don’t need to worry.”

She swiped a hand across her eyes. “What do you mean? I’m - this is so inappropriate Mr. Fatu.”

Barking a laugh I pulled her in and dropped another kiss on her forehead before moving to each of her cheeks and then the tip of her nose. “Since when do you call me that? And I mean I’m gonna take care of you from now on but you better start listenin or I’mma spank that fine ass.”

Not the most ‘appropriate’ thing to say but it had the desired effect and she let out a little laugh in spite of her self. Aurora sobered quickly though, worrying her lip and looking up at me through those long lashes. “I didn’t think you saw me that way.”

I shifted, trying to get some feeling back in my foot. “Yeah.” Now it was my turn to feel a little nervous. “Was I wrong thinking you felt that way?”

Maybe I had been wrong taking that little kiss as confirmation.

But I didn’t need to worry. Aurora shook her head emphatically. “No, I do. I have, since like, I started. It’s just that everything over the last few days barely feels real, ya know?”

That made sense. Trauma, especially something so violent and unexpected could shake your mental state up pretty badly. “Makes sense. But hey, I know what I’m feeling right this minute.”

She leaned back to look at me. “Yeah? Gonna share?”

Having finally regained feeling in my foot, I stood up with her in my arms and she reflexively wrapped her arms around my neck. “Hungry. I want breakfast.”

She laughed and hugged me tightly as I carried her to the kitchen.

——

Chapter 6

Aurora POV

Most of the day passed in a blur, I was so tired and slept a lot but Josh had made sure I got what I needed, only leaving my side when I took a shower.

I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin was raw, possessed by an urgent need to purge the feeling of Danny’s hands on my body. Closing my eyes I tried to let the water ease the ache I could feel so deep it was like it was in my bones and focus on the positive.

Focus on Josh.

My heart fluttered when I thought about how it felt to be safe in his embrace and the feel of his lips. I was so used to everything being temporary or untrustworthy it was hard not to feel anxiety about it too. Well, more so that he would come to his senses and send me back there. I tightened my arms around myself when it was like my whole body rebelled at the notion.

I’d sleep in a dumpster before I went back there.

That thought sent off a fresh wave of fears and stresses I just couldn’t deal with in the moment. I found myself wanting nothing more than to curl up into Josh’s arms and beg for it all to go away. As if he could read my thoughts a gentle knocking on the door interrupted the free fall into disassociation.

“You okay?” He sounded worried.

I turned off the water, unaware it had progressively gone cold and stepped out, noticing the time on the wall clock. It was eleven, I’d been in here for almost an hour. My whole body warmed at the thought of his concern, mitigating the chill a little bit. I wasn’t used to someone worrying about me.

“Yeah…I just realized I don’t have any clothes though.” I felt young and stupid and vulnerable. Like a child who had forgotten their away bag for a sleepover and was too scared to tell anyone.

“I got you, so long as you don’t mind wearing my stuff again. We can take care o’the rest tomorrow.”

Wrapping myself in a towel I opened the door enough to receive the bundle of clothes he held. A makeshift tank top of his and pair of basketball shorts. It made me smile to myself to think of him chopping up tshirts various ways before his matches. The shorts were a no go, they wouldn’t stay up unless I had something to secure them. I’d have to settle for the shirt and the only ancient pair of panties I had from…that place. Not home. I’d never think of it as home again.

I loved being enveloped by his smell though, just wearing this made me feel safer and more relaxed. Another idea flitted through the back of my mind. One that would surely help me forget Danny and his slimy hands.

Instead of continuing to try and figure out how to get the shorts to stay up, I folded them up. Hesitantly I stepped into the hallway to find him waiting, scrolling on his phone.

His coffee colored eyes swept over me from head to toe and I couldn’t fight the blush I felt blooming. He straightened and I held out the shorts. “I’m sorry, they won’t stay up.”

Josh didn’t speak right away but licked his lips and blinked before looking from my exposed thighs to the floor as he took the garment back and tossed them unceremoniously. When he did talk it was low and soft. “S’okay. You don need to apologize all the time anymore baby.”

My brain was scrambled but hormones were a hell of a thing. I just wanted a little piece of good amid the crazy. Fuck it, what do I have to lose by teasing him a little? “Or what? You gonna spank me for that too?”

His head snapped up with a surprised expression that shifted quickly into a predatory smirk and my breath caught in my throat. When he stepped into my space, crowding me back against the doorframe I wasn’t even aware of the pain from the bruises but focused solely on him instead. Leaning down so our noses touched he never broke eye contact when he answered in a heated whisper.

“Baby girl, Daddy’s gonna spank you for all sorts of things and you gonna beg for more.” Bringing a hand up he cupped my chin and slid a thumb over my bottom lip, dipping into my mouth just a little. “And more. Once you’re feelin better you’ll be screaming for mercy all night, every night.”

I was pretty sure I was going to faint. Fear and need crashed through me together with an overwhelming intensity, the throb between my legs for him roared to life with a vengeance. All I could muster was a whimper and he chuckled softly.

“Gotta be careful what games you play baby, I always win.”

Now that sparked something defiant in me. An aroused defiance, but defiance all the same. I wanted to show him I could play too, this felt good and it worked towards my plan of making me forget all about yesterday.

I pressed my body into his, my nipples becoming hard and sensitive with the friction from pressing into his chest. My arms encircled his neck and his eyes widened in surprise. A hard lump rose against my belly as I tried to get my hips closer to him somehow, seeking relief for my aching pussy. Josh seemed a little uncertain but his arms came around my middle, melding us together nicely.

I didn’t know the right way to ask for what I wanted so I’d just have to go for it. “I want you.”

Simple and to the point.

He groaned, deep in his chest and started peppering kisses down my jaw and neck before retracing the path with a languid stroke of his tongue. My head spun and my hands clutched at his shoulders. I whimpered when his teeth grazed my neck, it felt so good it chased away the doubts and fears, replacing them with blind want and need. In this moment I’d do anything to be closer still.

Josh pressed a knee between my legs, making my head fall back with a gasp. Memories of my fantasy about riding his thigh caused a fresh rush of heat to my core and I ground against him with a helpless abandon. One of his big hands tunneled into my hair and then his lips were crushing mine, tongue thrusting between my teeth to explore and coax my own into action.

The hand not controlling my head began to slide up my thigh, I could feel his strength as he massaged his way up to my hip. Once there, he dug in hard.

Directly into a bruise.

I cried out against his mouth as my body went rigid in an unexpected flash of pain. He let go instantly with a curse but wrapped his arms around me to comfort me. Gritting my teeth against the hurt I pressed my face into his shirt and gave a frustrated whine. I felt him take a deep breath before he spoke.

“I’m sorry baby.”

Wrapping my own arms around him I gave his middle a squeeze, my voice mumbled against his chest. “Not your fault.”

He sighed and pulled back, looking down at me with a soft smile he ran a hand over my hair in a comforting gesture. “Needed to slow down anyway. You ain’t in the right place right now.”

Disappointment and insecurity flared to life within me. “I want to make my own choice.”

“I know baby girl but I don’t want you to hate me tomorrow. *I* don’t want to hate me tomorrow. And I will if I take advantage of you right now.”

Irrational tears burned my nose. Fear and shame made me think he didn’t actually want me and I tried to push away. “I’m sorry.”

“Where you goin?” He didn’t let me go and I fussed against him.

“I don’t know.” I sniffed, feeling confused and ridiculous. Some part of my brain tried to reason with me but the negative parts were louder. “Being close to you like this makes me feel some type of way. Lemme go.”

He laughed, deep a low and sexy and I hated him a little for how I was feeling. “Now hold on. We can still do somethin about that.”

I stopped wiggling and the half hearted pushing, my attention coming back to the warmth I could feel everywhere we touched. Jeez, trauma really does fuck with your ability to regulate.

“What do you mean?”

Stepping back he ran his hand along my arm until our fingers were interlocked and gave me a soft tug. “I just had to get myself together so I don’t cross that big line too early. But I said I’d take care of you and I meant it, now c’mon.”

I’d follow him anywhere right now even if I didn’t have a full picture of what he had in mind. Letting him lead me felt right and my fears he didn’t actually want me were soothed somewhat.

Once in his bedroom he let me go to strip down to his boxers. Shyly I averted my eyes and he snorted. “Better get used to this.”

He pulled me with him as he climbed into the bed, maneuvering until we were facing each other on our knees. “I want you to show me what you like.”

I blinked, suddenly feeling very silly and uncertain. “Uh, what do you mean?”

Josh’s smile was sexy, his beard felt good against my skin as he kissed the corner of my mouth. “Girl, you are somethin else. Show your Daddy how you like to be touched, show him what gets you off.”

Oh I’d understood him the first time but I wasn’t sure how I felt about showing him. “I-uh—I don’t know, it-I feel stupid.”

“There ain’t nothing stupid ‘bouta woman feeling pleasure Rori. Now, show me or there’ll be consequences.”

That bratty desire to be defiant rose in me again, wanted to test him and see what he meant by consequences. Maybe I’d explore that feeling another time, when I wasn’t so nervous. He seemed determined and I was too turned on to argue. At least I’d get a little relief from the ache between my legs. With a defeated sigh I caved. “Okay.”

Josh looked bemused but satisfied he was getting his way. Avoiding eye contact I grabbed a pillow and closed my eyes as I situated it between my knees, trying to find the right spot to put the most pressure. It was never easy and being watched made it so much worse.

“Rori?”

I froze, shame exploding in my gut. “Y-yeah?”

“Have you ever had sex?” His voice was gentle.

I shook my head no. He nodded.

“Been touched by someone else?”

Again I shook my head no and again he nodded.

“Hell have *you* ever touched yourself?”

Biting my lip I shook my head for a third time. “Well, I’ve tried a couple times but I just get frustrated and stop. This makes me -“ I shook my hands nervously, not wanting to say the words -“ya know, makes me feel good. It’s short but it helps.”

Running a hand over his face Josh took a few deep breaths and gripped his growing erection through the plaid fabric he wore. It was hard not to look down but his obvious size made me nervous.

“Whaddya think about when you do it?”

I shifted, seeking some relief. May as well tell him, I was getting frustrated, my nipples tingling and my pussy aching. I was so turned on I was fighting shivers. “Last time I thought about rubbing myself on your thigh instead of the pillow. You held me and helped me move.”

Josh groaned and bit the knuckle on his middle finger before speaking, his voice raw. “You’re makin the whole waiting a couple days part real hard right now baby.”

My own frustration was peaking, he was torturing me and I think he knew it. I sounded petulant but I didn’t care. “You asked!”

Ever so gently he encircled my neck with a hand, exerting a tiny bit of pressure. I felt my bones melt.

“Mind that attitude baby.” He smirked, watching my reaction with the same expression of a cat who’d caught a canary. “I’m decidin how I’m gonna get you off the first time.”

Before I could respond he was moving, shifting so he was situated behind me and slightly to my right, his chest pressed to my back. One of his calloused hands glided up underneath his shirt to cup my breast, rolling the hard pebble there between his thumb and forefinger. He nipped at my neck, alternating his pressure and soothing the spots where he bit me harder with his tongue.

I thought I might cum just from him playing with my breasts, I could feel every roll and pinch in my pussy. “Oh, oh, feels so good!”

I felt him smile against my neck. “Just wait baby, Daddy’s gonna blow your mind.”

Tauntingly the fingers of his other hand ran across the top of my panties, back and forth a few times before finally dipping below the elastic. I bucked against him involuntarily with a gasp when his finger brushed the top of my soaked slit for the first time. “Josh!”

He flat out growled, his fingers becoming more insistent in their exploration, dipping into my wetness. “Jesus fucking Christ, your body’s just beggin to be fucked huh baby? You want Daddy to fuck you?”

If it weren’t mad with need I’d have been ashamed of the noise I made, somewhere between a keen and a wail. When his fingers started circling my swollen clit, swiping over the sensitive bud with just the right amount of pressure I thought I was going to break apart. “Yes! Yes Daddy please!”

Letting go of my breast he used that hand to guide one of mine into his boxers to circle around his cock. I moaned, even if I couldn’t see him just feeling the thick, veiny staff in my hand was enthralling and so, so hot. Guiding my hand with his own he began making long strokes as he slid his other middle finger inside me. My walls clamped down around the digit, it was slightly uncomfortable but the added sensation of the heel of his hand pressed into my clit over road it with pleasure.

Pressing his lips to my ear he smirked even as he began to pant, his own pleasure building. “Ride my hand baby, ride it til you cum for me.”

It didn’t take a genius to know what he meant by “ride”. Doing what I would have if it were just the pillow I rolled my hips and lights exploded behind my eyes. “Oh my god!”

My whole body shuddered and I felt my control slip away, completely lost to the insane pleasure grinding into his hand brought me. I’d never managed a fraction of how good this felt on my own. Waves began to build within me and suddenly all those romance novels made sense.

“That’s it baby, give it all to me.” His hand sped up and so did I, feeling an explosion building within me.

“I-Josh, oh-I think I’m gonna cum!”

“Hmm, go for it baby girl, lemme see your face while you cum for me.”

I let my head drop back against his shoulder and opened my eyes to watch his face. The pressure in me erupted, sending shock after shock of intense pleasure through me. It felt like my whole body from head to toe was racked with the overwhelming sensation of my orgasm as my walls clamped around his finger over and over again. Relaxation like I’d never felt before washed through me amid the aftershocks and I slumped against him.

Wetness coated my fingers now as he continued to use my hand to jack off. Josh’s own noises were becoming more erratic as his release drew near. I leaned up to kiss him, deciding I’d try talking to him like he did me.

“Cum for me Daddy, I wanna make you feel good too.”

Removing his finger from me he brought it to his mouth and sucked my essence off, his eyes drifting closed as he moaned low and deep and long. After another few strokes his whole body stiffened, his dick pulsing in my hand with his release. I loved the look on his face as he orgasmed, it was so hot I felt a fresh spark of want.

“Shit baby, that was good.” Slowly, reluctantly he got up and padded over to the bathroom. He was completely naked when he came back with a hand towel. “Here sexy, clean up and I’m gonna get some clean boxers.”

Removing my underwear I did as he said, tossing the soaked garment and towel into the hamper as he crawled back into bed with me. Settling into his arms, my ear pressed to his heartbeat, I sighed contentedly, sleep already blurring my vision. “Thank you, this still hardly feels real.”

“You ain’t never gonna have to worry again baby. Now get some sleep.”

The last thing I remembered was him pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

—-

Jey POV

The first thing I became aware of the next morning were the long strands of sweet smelling auburn hair tickling my nose. The second thing I became aware of was her naked bottom pressed firmly against my morning wood, making me grateful I wore boxers to sleep. In a few weeks I’d be able to just roll her over on my stomach and slide into her soft heat, waking her up by fucking her.

Carefully so as not to wake her I shifted out of bed. She gave a slight whimper before burying her face in my pillow and settling back into sleep. Good. She needed it.

I played last night back over in my head as I filled a bottle of water, wrote a quick note that said “gym or kitchen” to leave on the bedside table to she wouldn’t panic about waking up alone and moved on into my morning workout. It felt good to move the weights around and lose myself to the focus it brought. A lot had changed in a short amount of time and it felt good to do something normal and consistent.

It had taken every shred of control I had not to push all the way and just take what I wanted. I’d been lost for a minute when she’d pressed that sweet, curvy little body against me, the want clouding her hazel eyes and her hips grinding deliciously against my leg. I don’t think I would have held back if she hadn’t cried out in pain and she deserved better for her first time than being rutted into against a doorframe. Not to mention I wanted her healthy and clear headed, not bruised and freshly traumatized.

Remembering the way her body had clutched my finger like a fucking fist caused a rush of blood to my cock. It turned a dark part of me on to know I would be the only man to ever have her. Normally I didn’t mess with younger women or virgins, I could be a hothead and made some stupid choices here and there but I really wasn’t interested in breaking some innocent girls heart. Sex was great, tears not so much.

A ding from my phone brought me back to the present and I dropped down from the pull up handles. A message from Jonathan along several others from Sami and Joe and Phil. Only one of them had my son and I didn’t have the wherewithal to chat about much else right now. At least not without spilling the whole ordeal.

“**when’s good? we can bring dinner w/ little man**

I wondered if he’d drop off food and Jason on the porch and drive away. I doubted it but I also felt a twinge of anxiety at the thought of explaining the situation to anyone, let alone my twin. And Trinity.

The longer I waited the worse it would be though.

Taking a deep breath I responded.

**yeah thanks. 7?**

While I waited for him to respond I hopped on the delivery app and ordered a few pairs of underwear and simple blue tank top dress in Medium. I wasn’t an expert on women’s sizes but I figured that was safe. I’d let Rori go shopping for herself when she felt up for it. The thought of spoiling her, of dressing her in nice clothes and other nice things made me grin. I’d never mentioned it but I’d noticed she wore the same few ancient articles all the time.

**bet, c u later**

Wrapping up my workout I moved to the kitchen to make breakfast and debated waking her up. I didn’t have to wonder what to do long when she appeared in the room, making me jump and swear which was followed by her giggling.

“Gonna get you a damn bell.” I went to her and pulled her close as a blush stole across her cheeks. “How’d you sleep baby?”

“Not bad. Was pretty tired after last night.” Her fingers were drawing shapes on my chest, causing a tingling feeling to spread into my lower body.

I laughed and stroked her hair. “Did you like that?”

Aurora nodded shyly and ducked her head to avoid eye contact.

Dropping my head to kiss the shell of her ear I smiled when I felt her shiver. “You want Daddy to touch you some more baby?”

Embarrassed she pressed her face into my chest and nodded again.

“Nah girl, you gotta look at me when you ask me to make you cum.”

Biting her lip she looked up at me through those lashes, the same look that had me thinking about her on her knees, and whispered.

“Please?”

Hauling her over my shoulder made her shriek but the laughter it dissolved into told me she wasn’t upset. Breakfast forgotten I headed for the bathroom, an entirely different meal now on my mind. Swatting her ass lightly made her squirm and whimper deliciously. I couldn’t wait to hear the noises she’d make with my tongue buried in her while orgasm after orgasm tore through her.

“What’re you doing?”

“You’ll see baby.” I liked the sound of her laugh so I tickled her bare thighs making her wiggle even more. She gasped then froze when we got to the master bath and I sat her on the cool marble counter.

“Uh, Josh?” Aurora sounded uncertain.

“Hmm? You gonna get nervous now?” I cranked in the water and turned to her.

She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “No…”

I smiled and held the sides of her face, guiding her in for a deep kiss. Coaxing her with my tongue I felt her relax and return the kiss, gently pressing back against my invasion as she slid her hands up my chest to my shoulders. Waiting was going to be so hard. Breaking away I grinned down at her.

“We don have to do anythin you ain’t ready for. All you ever gotta do is say ‘stop it’ and I promise I will.”

Aurora sighed and I could feel the relief roll over her shoulders. “Thank you. I want you so much I can’t think one minute and then the next I’m really nervous and then I’m sad.”

It made sense, she had been through so much. “Well where you at right now?”

Glancing at the shower before looking back at me she answered in a shy whisper. “Can’t think.”

I ran my hands up her thighs until my thumbs rested against her lips there, hovering just outside her slit. She trembled and whined. “You wet for me?”

She nodded and I took my hands away to pull the shirt off, leaving her completely exposed before stripping down myself. I liked the little gasp she gave before averting her eyes again. Mindful of our states I wrapped her legs around my waist and carried her to the shower. The hot water was incredible but didn’t come close to the feeling of her nakedness pressed against me. All I would have to do is pin her to the wall and thrust.

I set her down under the spray but pressed her to the cold wall with a kiss, trailing down her neck to her shoulder. Her hands slid up and down my wet biceps, squeezing and clawing. Closing my mouth around one of her brown nipples she cried out when I sucked, rolling my tongue over the sensitive bud.

“Josh! Oh!” Girl had some sensitive nipples. Good, I couldn’t wait to torture them and try to make her cum that way. But another time, right now I had something else planned.

Careful to as not to slip on the slick floor I got to my knees in front of her while kissing my way down her belly. I loved the way her whole body twitched when I gently bit her inner thighs.

“Put your legs on my shoulders baby.” I kissed her lower belly one more time before lifting her bottom. She did as instructed but she looked off balance as her hands fought for purchase on the stone wall. “And your hands in my hair.”

“What’re you gonna-oh god!” Aurora’s hands tunneled into my hair as I slid my tongue along her wet seam. She tasted so good it made me moan and I continued lapping at her.

Nails dug into my scalp as I picked up the pace, alternating between circling her clit and plunging deep into her pussy, thighs quivered and tightened around my ears and her heels dug into my back. She moaned and cried out, my name tumbling off her lips over and over again. But I wanted something else.

Carefully I shifted most of her weight to my shoulders in order to free up a hand. She whined when I pulled back a bit but kept teasing her opening with a finger. “Wanna hear you call me Daddy baby girl. I want you to beg Daddy to let you cum.”

When our eyes met I was rewarded with a gorgeous sight, her lips parted ever so slightly as she breathed, eyes half lidded and cheeks bright. She was completely mine to do with whatever I wanted in that moment and the power of her trust was better than any drink.

“P-please Daddy, please let me cum for you.” Her lack of control was evident in the tremble of her voice. I wouldn’t make her suffer too long. We could play those games another time.

Pressing my face back to her pussy I slid my middle finger into her slowly while sucking on that delicate bundle of nerves. Her head fell back and she arched into me with a wail as her walls spasmed around my finger. I kept going, kept feasting at her through the waves of her first orgasm and into the next as she began to twist and buck, now crying out for mercy.

“Too much! Too much! JOSH!” As her second release peaked her voice cracked with a scream I’d never forget. I slowed down but kept licking until she began tapping out on my arm and pleading with me to stop.

As promised I let her go and she melted into my arms, we sat that way for a few moments while she caught her breath. After a few minutes I nudged her chin so she’d look up at me. “You good?”

“I didn’t know my body could do that twice in a row.” The shock in her voice was a nice stroke to my ego. I prided myself on being a giving partner, I loved a woman’s face lost in pleasure.

“That’s just a taste too baby girl. I bet we can get more than that outta ya.”

Her grin took on a mischievous quirk. “What about you? Can I do that?” Inquisitive fingers encircled my cock and I grunted. Righting myself I put a hand on her shoulder indicating she stay down on her knees.

And there it was, that look where she bit her lip and looked up at me, only this time droplets of water caught in her long lashes giving her an unearthly beauty. Copying my earlier motions she ran her hands up my thighs before finally touching me again, carefully stroking my length. Gently grabbing a fistful of her hair I guided her until the tip was pressed to her lips.

“Breathe through your nose and take your time. So long as you don’t bite me I’ll prolly like whatever you do.”

I knew exactly what I liked in a blow job but this wasn’t the time for that kind of roughness. Instead I wanted to let her explore and take it at her own pace for now, until she was more comfortable. Then I’d worry about getting all the way down her throat.

It was impossible to contain my hiss when her tongue flicked out over the tip, she gave a few more licks before taking the tip fully into her mouth for few sucks. The sight of her like this was so hot, I never wanted to forget. Carefully, she inched a little farther, taking an another inch or so. She still had a long way to go and it was hard fighting the urge to thrust forward.

“Gimme your hand baby.”

She did as instructed without stopping the back and forth motion she’d started on those first few inches. Taking her fist I wrapped it around the base and showed her how to move her hand in time with her mouth. Wet and sloppy with her saliva her hand glided up and down smoothly, pretty soon I was the one twitching with my head thrown back.

Taking a little more Aurora moaned around me before taking so much she finally gagged. Knowing it was getting her turned on too and that she wanted more was just about enough to send me over. I stopped her by pulling her head back. “Lemme cum on that pretty face baby.”

She nodded and using her hand it only took a few more seconds of stroking before I painted her face and hair and chest with a deeply satisfied groan. Watching her pink tongue swipe my essence off her lips was almost enough to get me hard again even so soon.

“Did I do okay?” I loved the shy but hopeful expression as I pulled her to her feet to rinse us both off.

“Nah baby, you did great.” I kissed the top of her head, turning off the water and stepping out, pulling her along.

My phone buzzed letting me know her clothes were here. Good, I needed to tell her about Jon and Trinity coming for dinner anyway.

Aurora smiled at me and went about drying off, sneaking looks over as we exited the room.

“I ordered you some clothes and they’re here, I’mma get dressed and go grab em. Need to talk over some food so meet me in the kitchen?”

With a nod she danced off to the kitchen in her towel and I smiled after her. Now I just had to get over the hurdle of explaining this to my brother and his wife without sounding like a total head case.

Chapter 7

Aurora POV

“Josh…”

“We don *have* to say anything specific. These things, it’s just gonna be hard to keep it from Jon anyway. Can’t ever hide shit from each other.”

I nodded but it didn’t make me feel any better. It was easy to accept that he had strong bonds to his family, I just didn’t know how that felt. Everything still felt new and raw, I wasn’t even a whole 72 hours into this relationship before he’s talking about letting people know. It felt rushed and I couldn’t tell if I would feel that way normally or just because of the situation.

“Okay.” His eyes narrowed, my tone must not have been very convincing.

“Bullshit. You better learn t’speak up for yourself ‘round here.”

Crossing my arms I tried to force the words out of my throat. It wasn’t easy, I’d never been asked directly how I felt about things. Not unless I was going to be punished for those feelings.

“Promise you won’t be angry?”

Understanding dawned in his eyes and his whole face softened. Gently he tucked a loose strand of my crazy hair behind an ear. “Promise.”

“It feels rushed. This-us-I don’t even know what we are. I don’t know what’s safe to assume or not. I’m nervous. What if they don’t like me? Or thin-mmph!”

Josh cut me off by pressing his lips to mine with a grin. His hands ran gently over my arms and back up to stop at my shoulders with a comforting pressure. “Relax baby girl. You and Trinity are gonna make a great team and Jon’s gon love you just because. It’s me they’re gonna be mad at.”

That didn’t make sense. Why would they be mad at him when he’d saved me? “Why?”

With a groan he swiped a hand over his face. “Cuz anyone with sense would assume I’m completely takin advantage of you. Hell I am. Never shoulda touched you.”

Tears built in my eyes as fear rippled through me again when his face became clouded with guilt. What if he decided he didn’t really want me or this was all too wrong? I didn’t want that. My heart hurt at the thought of not feeling him close anymore.

“But-but-“

“Shhh, baby.” His calloused hands cupped my face and his thumbs ran along my jaw. “Doesn’t mean I plan t’stop.”

My emotions were a roller coaster and I really didn’t appreciate him sending me for another loop. I reared back and punched him in the shoulder, not hard enough apparently, but he was right again about winning games. He acted as if I’d dislocated it, making a dramatic noise and falling to his knees in front of me, effective in making me laugh as he’d planned.

When he started running his hands up and down my thighs while kissing my stomach through the soft cotton dress he’d presented me earlier my laughter dissolved into soft sighs. I gripped the counter and tried to grit my teeth in an effort to hold onto my frustration.

“Not fair.”

He was pushing the knee length hem up past my waist with one hand while the other ran two fingers over my clothed slit. Even through the underwear the sensation made me twitch, my hips seeking more. As much as my body wanted it I needed to think, to get ready. I pushed him away

“Stop it.”

The twist of his lips was contrite but he stood and guided me to the table. “Here, sit and I’ll make us somethin to eat.”

“What do we tell them?” Fidgeting I realized for the first time since texting Josh I didn’t have my phone. “Dammit.”

“Hmm?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“My phone. Oh man, my laptop. How am I gonna get schoolwork done?” All the overwhelming feelings that felt like they were hovering just behind a dam threatened to spill over. Panic tightened my chest and made my head swim, I dropped it into my hands, grinding the heels of my palms into my eyes. Josh was by my side right away, murmuring soft, comforting words in my ear while he petted my hair.

“Hey, hey, you gotta breathe Aurora. We’re gonna take care of all that, I was just waiting for you to feel better before I brought it up. Get you a new phone, new computer, new clothes, all of it, whatever you need.”

Instead of stopping my tears his words broke the dam and I started crying again, this time in a weird mix of sadness, stress, gratitude and love. It was hard to believe he cared so much but I had no choice but to trust him. Not something I was inherently unhappy about but also not something I was used to. Everyone in my life had let me down so far. Would Josh really be different?

“Let it out baby.” He cradled me against his shoulder and let me sob. Faster than before I felt the immense waves of emotions subsiding and my cries faded only for my stomach to growl loudly.

Josh laughed, rubbing my neck and kissing my forehead as he stood and went about fixing sandwiches.

“Thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me but you’re welcome. As for your first question, we’re gonna tell ‘em the truth. I don’t like lying to Jon an there’s no point. Now, what we tell everyone else may be different. But don’t worry bout that tonight.”

I was struggling with the thought of talking to his closest relative, I couldn’t conceive the thought of more people right now. Taking a bite of my meal I nodded, using the time I needed to chew to think over what I wanted to say.

“I don’t really understand your need to tell him but I can be okay with it. But can we keep it at them for now please?”

“Course baby.”

“I really miss Jason, can’t wait to hug him.” The little boys love would be a much needed balm right now.

“Me too.”

It felt good to be listened to even if I didn’t understand how I was feeling. I just have zoned out because Josh laid a hand over one of my and called my name quietly.

“You with me Rori?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you really wanna be together? We don’t-“ he paused and worked his jaw for a second “-don’t have to be together ya know. I’ll make sure you’re okay and I’m gonna keep paying you for taking care of Jason. If you know, you wanna leave at some point.” He was squeezing my hand now, almost to the point of pain.

I loved his touch. Raising my gaze from where our hands rested on the table to his dark eyes I swallowed and tried to make sure whatever I said next captured what I wanted to say. ‘Yeah, duh’ didn’t seem right.

“You asked me earlier and my answer is the same. No body else I’ve met has made me feel like this.” I paused and tilted my head in thought. “I like our lives together so far. I don’t wanna go anywhere. Just scared. Like it’s too good to be true.”

He nodded. “You been through a lot, hell I don’t hardly know what all, but we can make something outta this, something real good. Just gotta do the work.”

“No you sound like the school counselor.” I felt my lips quirk into a grin when he made a face.

“Ugh don’t remind me how young you are. And I sound like that cuz I went to therapy. You’re gonna go too.” Now that surprised me.

“You go to therapy?”

“Yeah. Ever since little man was born. Can’t be mad all the time with a kid around, ya know?” He tilted his head and smiled with a shrug.

“Yeah. I don’t even know my dad’s name.” I laughed when he winced. “It’s okay. I’ve have a long time to make peace with it.”

“Still. I know it’ll take some time but I want you to trust I’m not gonna go anywhere or hurt you or throw you out.” I don’t know how he read my mind so well but I appreciated hearing it all.

“Now c’mere.” Pulling me into his lap Josh buried his face in my neck, nipping and kissing and licking softly while he massaged my thigh. Smacking his shoulder I shrieked a laugh.

“You’re the worst!”

“Oh you have no idea.” And with that he slid a hand up my dress again, pressing that most sensitive spot while his lips worked their way to my ear. “Don’t want you thinkin of sad stuff. Want you all hot and bothered and moaning.”

He got his wish as he worked me with his hand until I was clutching his shoulders and making a mess in his lap. Laying against his chest as the aftershocks receded I closed my eyes and let the remaining exhaustion steal me under again. My last coherent thoughts were on his voice murming to me softly.

“I got you baby, Daddy’s gonna keep you safe, I promise. You’re home with me now.” I thought I dreamed the last part but I would have sworn he said, “I love you.”

—-

Jey POV

Carrying the small woman in my arms was becoming a habit I didn’t want to get rid of. I loved how she melded into me as if she was fucking custom fitted. Loved how easily she let me maneuver her and the warmth of her curves. Loved her laugh and her accent and the way she moved.

I loved Aurora Begay.

Goddamit.

It wasn’t easy to come to terms with the fact that I was, indeed, taking advantage of her situation. It was impossible not to be touching her all the time, like I needed to make sure she was really here, really okay and really wanted me back. I wanted her to forget the bad she’d been through but was also painfully aware that isn’t how it works.

Settling her sleeping form on the sofa I went to work on the house. There wasn’t much to do without little man leaving a trail of crumbs and toys behind him. Something a dog would be good for helping clean up. An idea occurred to me. Maybe Aurora would like a companion? Jason would lose it for a dog.

I decided we were going to the local shelter if that’s what Rori ended up wanting. Running the easy mop over the floor I looked over at her on the couch. I’d do just about whatever she wanted to make her happy, something I had a feeling fancy things wouldn’t accomplish but another being to love and be loved by would.

Jason. I was thankful they already got on so well and that he was so young. At three there wouldn’t be much of a difference in his perception of the situation. If anything, having ‘his Rori’ around more often and closer would be a good thing in his mind. Once I was satisfied with the state of the downstairs I settled in next to her and checked the time. Almost 7, my brother would be rolling up any minute.

Reaching over I nudged her shoulder. “Hey baby, wake up.”

“Hmm?” She stretched and looked disoriented upon opening her eyes at first but smiled when they landed on me. Again I tugged her close to me, enjoying the smell of her hair and the way she giggled when my beard tickled her neck.

“They gon be here soon. You feel ready? Need to do anything?”

No sooner than she shook her heard no the doorbell rang. I could see the anxiety flicker in the way her brows drew together and her lips tightened. Kissing her forehead I went to let them in.

“It’ll be okay, I promise.”

My brother and his family tumbled in like usual, talking and laughing about something or other while handing a waving Jason over to me for a hug. Trinity noticed Aurora standing in the living room first and turned to me with a confused expression. She nudged Jonathan and he did the same, before Jason finally noticed her from my arms. His scream of joy was piercing.

“MY RORI HERE!”

Rushing to him with a huge smile I was happy to see she wasn’t shy about showing her love for him. Her whole face was heart stopping as she swept him away from me and his chubby arms locked her neck in a vice.

“Sure am little dude!”

“Let’s move this to the dining room.” Neither Jon nor Trinity were satisfied but did what I asked. “Aurora? Can you start setting up while I get drinks baby?”

I made sure to add that to the end and avoided meeting their gazes. They’d have it explained soon enough.

Of course my twin followed me through the swinging door into the kitchen, putting a hand against the refrigerator door so I couldn’t open it before he finally spoke. “Excuse me.”

I sighed. “Yeah?”

“The fuck you calling Jason’s nanny “baby” for? Why is she here Joshua?”

I knew he’d be mad but using my whole first name let me know we were starting off at a solid 7.5 on the Richter scale.

“I’ll explain everything after dinner and the kids are occupied k?”

He pushed away with a huff, his anger palpable but helped me gather beers and cups of water. When we got back to the dining room Aurora and Trinity had all three kids settled in their seats as they portioned out food, making small talk about the kids. I was relieved they seemed to have slipped into conversation on their own. Dinner was nice but quick as they caught Aurora and I up in what everyone had done that weekend. It was obvious they were rushing and I couldn’t blame them, I may or may not have dropped the “baby” just to aggravate the situation but also to give them a heads up in a weird way.

#wwe fluff #wwe #the bloodline #fanfiction #jey uso #writing #ao3 writer #jey uso fanfiction #wwe raw #wwe rants #jey uso smut #jey uso x oc #jey uso x fem reader #the usos #smutty fanfiction #smut

69 notes · View notes

dronebiscuitbat · 4 months ago

Text

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 58)

When N went in to work that Monday morning, his nerves were barely contained underneath his casing. Containing his excitement was difficult, he wanted to tell everyone. He was so ecstatic, Uzi was carrying living proof of how much he loved her. Something that should have been impossible made somehow possible.

Their coding shouldn't have been compatible… but it was, somehow.

His smile was unbreakable, not when he got sent to deal with a brawl in the market, not when he chased a thief and had to tackle them to the ground. And not when he spent three hours doing paperwork at his desk, even as some of the words blended together in his head.

“What's got ya so smiley? Thought you'd be worried after what happened.” Hal had been walking by, a steaming mug of gasoline clenched in his fist as he leaned on N's desk.

Right, Doll. Uzi had explained what happened to him, being cornered, fighting to the best of her ability and Tera, his brave, firecracker of a daughter confronted her and made her stop. Knowing that V killed her parents… maybe attacking Uzi when she had their daughter was too much of a hypocrisy.

That worry was in the back of his head… but for now eclipsed by the unfettered joy that came with knowing that his family was expanding.

“Uh- Just, something at home Hal.” Not telling anyone was rough on him. But Uzi had wanted to keep it between them for now, at least until she did more research and knew a bit more.

“And ya aren't going to share? That's not like you.” Hal pointed out, a half smirk on his face. N gave him a sheepish smile in return.

“Sorry, not this time.”

Uzi meanwhile was sitting on the couch with her laptop in her lap, jotting down notes in a little notebook with Tera playing with her bat toy next to her, making squeaks and chirps.

She was researching, scouring internet forums, medical websites, old video hosting webpages. Anything that held any relevant information for her. She was familiar with typical drone pregnancies, 5 months was the typical length, enough time for the babies code to become independent enough to be separated, then transfered to a pillbaby body. Aside from minor side effects, there were no physical changes in the host drone during the pregnancy, and the ‘birth’ relatively painless.

She wasn't quite so familiar with organic pregnancies, and figured her limited, horror movie taught experience was likely to be inaccurate or exaggerated.

She was both happy, and unhappy, that she did.

She started with a video describing first month symptoms, how to deal with them, and any complications that would arise. She was still hoping that her body was mearly reacting as if she was going through physical changes, and that hers would be a normal, painless process.

She was never one to hope for the best and not prepare for the worst however. And this information would be helpful going forward, just in case.

Morning sickness was the first symptom listed, something she was definitely familiar with. She still felt woosy from waking up that morning, and had thrown up twice. Unfortunately, the best answer she'd gotten for a fix was ‘wait it out, it'll subside later in the pregnancy’. Which was something she didn't want to hear honestly.

The next, mood swings. Which hadn't hit her too hard at the moment, but may have contributed to her recent fascination with rom-coms and other sappy shit. Nothing she could do about that either, humans had hormones that dictated that, and unfortunately her dumbass programing had simulated ones.

Cravings and weight gain were the next two, which was something that actually had a solution to, ‘Cravings are usually a result of the bodies lack of a certain nutrient required for the development of the baby. Listen to your body.’ Was the advice the article had given.

She'd love to listen to her body, but she didn't have a clue on what it wanted, She'd tried every snack known to drone and even ones she previously didn't like, but nothing was killing the hunger that had only grown stronger. The only two things that even helped a little bit was oil, and the silicone chips N had bought her the night before.

Her mouth watered a little bit at the thought of that, the hardened silicone breaking between her fangs, mixed with the thick sweetness of the oil she'd drunk, it had been the perfect combo, enough to calm down the hunger pains in her stomach. Almost.

“Ow!” She winced as she realized she'd stuck a finger in her mouth and bitten down, her fang peircing a hole through the white silicon pad on her finger, a small amount of oil seeped out, so she just stuck it back into her mouth until it stopped bleeding.

That was odd…

She shook it off and kept researching, skipping to how birth was, just to calm her nerves on how that was like, surely it was ar least somewhat similar to drones. Right?

She clicked on a video, the scene set in a hospital setting as a narrator drabbled on with how human babies were made, it was… interesting in it's own right. And made her realize just how similar DNA and code really was. Just 1s and 0s written and read in different ways.

It wasn't until the human woman laying on the table screamed like she was being murdered that her concerns returned. She was drenched in sweat, a man at her side holding her hand that she could only assume was her partner.

Her mind provided her an image of her lying there, N holding her hand, wiping the sweat from her brow. And she smiled a little bit before it fell off her face entirely within the next few minutes.

The woman's stomach was distended, and with every scream Uzi's disgust grew, doctors flurried around her so quickly that even she was starting to feel dizzy.

Oh…

Fear prickled on the back of her neck, this wasn't painless. This wasn't painless at all. Humans had to endure hours of agonizing pain as they pushed out a baby the size of a watermelon out of a hole the size of a pea.

And their bodies were made for that, albeit, evolution had fucked them over, giving them a reproductive system designed to be agonizing, but their bodies were made to be that way, to stretch and accommodate despite the pain.

She was made out of metal and silicone, and while some area's of the silicone were malleable, like her face and her fingers, most of it was hard and stiff, no room to give, no room to accommodate.

She wasn't made for… that.

So that fear was back in full force, if she was pregnant, like… the human way and not the vastly superior drone way. Then how was this going to work at all? She touched her midsection gently, as if she'd hurt herself if she pushed too hard.

She tried to think back to what N said, while having the solver was a pain and scary more often then not, it hadn't straight up tried to kill her, if anything it was doing it's best to keep her alive. So… would her body figure something out? It would have to, wouldn't it?

She sighed, stopping her spiral.

They knew nothing yet, no need to get hung up on something she may not have to worry about. So she moved on, heading into the next part of her research and scribbling down everything she'd learned, just in case.

She was focused on her research, looking up symptoms, how to deal with them, and what she should expect going forward. Knowing was far less scary then not knowing.

Then she heard a noise and looked over, Tera was hunched over the side of the couch, coughing. Uzi put her laptop to the side, hand on her daughters back.

“Tera?” She asked gently, and it only took another second for the toddler to heave. And then completely upchuck her recent feeding all over the floor, covering it with black.

“Tera!” Uzi lifted her head up, worried. Tera looked… fine. If slightly upset. She held herself as if she was in discomfort, and her eyelights were strained.

Toddlers getting sick out of nowhere was admiditly pretty normal, though a little unexpected, Uzi still picked her up and held her.

“Aw… Tera, let's clean this up, you're okay.” She wasn't mad, well… maybe a little upset that there was now oil everywhere, but if she could relate to anything it would be feeling nauseous. Still, chances were Tera was just overfed, nothing to freak out over.

Tera made a grumbling noise and curled into her mom, and Uzi sighed. Soon, no matter how it happened, she would be dealing with double trouble.

Next ->

#murder drones #uzi doorman #serial designation n #nuzi #biscuitbites #oil is thicker then blood #tera doorman #Uzi does some research #it doesn't make her feel better #n struggles to not tell everyone he comes in contact with

62 notes · View notes

marvelavengerspovs1 · 9 months ago

Text

Winter Wolf - Chapter 2

Winter Wolf Master List

Warnings: Use of Y/N, Mentions of drinking

Length: 2149

A/N: Here's a little early upload for y'all!

I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

It is the day of the party and you do not want to go. You always have fun, but you don't want to deal with all of the people that come. They're normally just a bunch of random socialites who want to say that they are BFFs with the Avengers.

You're lying on your bed when there is a knock at your door.

"It's open!" You yell.

Natasha and Wanda come in and you groan. You know what is about to happen. They're going to drag you around town for a makeover that you did not want to attend.

"Why can't I just go in sweats?" You complain.

"Because Tony has a dress code," Natasha reminds you.

"And this will be a fun trip! We haven't hung out in ages and this is a good way to catch up!" Wanda says optimistically.

You cover your face with a pillow and let out a scream. The two girls laugh at you before they sit on the bed.

Wanda shakes your shoulder. "Come on Y/N! It'll be fun!"

"But why do I need to go out if I have all of this makeup and clothes here?" You counter.

"You know how Stark is. If he sees you wearing something you've worn in the past he'll insult you for weeks." Natasha rolls her eyes.

"HE DOES THAT ANYWAY!" You exclaim after throwing the pillow across the room.

The pillow hits an unsuspecting Bucky as he opens the door. "How can you make a pillow hurt?"

"Sorry Bucky, I didn't realize you were coming in." You apologize.

"It's fine, I should've knocked. Anyways, Tony wanted me to tell you that we all have to show up and be dressed for the occasion."

"What does that even mean?" You question.

"I don't know. But I thought you should know."

"Ok, thanks robot arm!" You wave bye at him and he offers a small smile before closing the door.

"You should ask him out on a date," Natasha looks at you. You forgot that Wanda and Natasha were there for a second.

"She has a boyfriend Nat!" Wanda swats her arm.

"What he doesn't know won't kill him," Natasha explains.

"I wouldn't cheat on my boyfriend."

"Come on, let's go!" Wanda pulls you up and you groan.

"It's going to be the longest day of my life!" You exaggerate with a huff.

After they drag you into Natasha's car, the three of you go out to look for some new clothes. Natasha was the first to find her outfit. It was a black jumpsuit paired with a black belt. The outfit made her look like the powerful woman she is.

"What shoes are you going to wear with that?" You ask her.

"Probably my red stilettos."

"You're going to look so good!" Wanda compliments.

"Thanks, babe." Natasha smiles at her.

The next person to find an outfit is Wanda. She found a red long-sleeved dress. The dress reached Wanda's mid-thigh and a slit was cut on the right side of her dress.

"I don't want to sound repetitive but you look hot!" You tell her.

Wanda blushes at the compliment. "Thank you Y/n! But we should go and look for your dress now!"

You sigh. You were hoping that the girls would forget what you all initially went in for.

The three of you went to multiple different boutiques for you, but nothing caught your attention. You were growing frustrated that Natasha and Wanda would not let you go home.

"Guys, I'm not going to find anything. Let's just go home!" You whine while they drag you into another boutique.

"This will be the last one, I swear!" Natasha promises you.

"Who knows, maybe you will find something you like," Wanda says, being optimistic like always.

You sigh and let them drag you in. "This is the last one."

You guys search the whole boutique, going through every single rack. Both Wanda and Natasha found a few dresses that they thought would look good on you. Out of the whole store, you only find one dress that catches your attention.

"Ok, time for a fashion show Y/N!" Wanda pushes all of the dresses into your hands and pushes you into a changing room.

You put on the first dress you see. Wanda had picked out a burnt orange dress that hugged your body. It was beautiful but it is not something you would wear. You go out anyway and show them.

"It's a beautiful dress, but I don't think it's for you," Wanda admits.

"That's what I was thinking." You admit.

"Go try on the one I found," Natasha smirks.

You don't tell her, but you're scared. Natasha's taste in clothing is significantly different from yours. She likes tight, form-fitting clothes that are revealing. You tend to gravitate to something more modest. If a dress is form-fitting, you prefer for it to be a little longer.

You go back into the changing room and find the dress Natasha picked out. You're not even sure if you could call it a dress. It was a black long-sleeved dress that had the hips cut out of it. It was cut low on both the front and back. You leave the dressing room with your cheeks hot.

"You look hot!" Natasha complimented.

"Are you sure you didn't pick this out for you?" You ask her.

"If you don't want it, I'll take it," Natasha said.

Both you and Wanda roll your eyes and you go back to the changing room. You decide to put on the dress you grabbed.

The dress is silver and when the lights shine on it, it becomes iridescent. It was beautiful. It hugged you in all the right spots but it was in your comfort zone. It was the perfect solution to wanting to look cute and sexy.

You leave the dressing room with a big smile on your face. You spin around once and Natasha and Wanda clap.

"This is definitely you babe," Natasha smiles at you.

"I told you you would find it!" Wanda smiles and claps.

"I'll admit, you were right." You look at Wanda.

"Come on, let's go pay for this, and then we can go to the makeup store." Wanda goes with you to put the dresses back and you pay for the dress.

The three of you go and have a quick lunch before going back to the compound.

You and Wanda are laughing at a joke Natasha made when you see Thor strolling by, a Pop-Tart in hand.

"What is so funny ladies? I would like to laugh as well." He asks with a smile.

"Oh, it's nothing, Thor." You smile back at him.

"But I find humor humorous!"

You look at Natasha, letting her tell the story.

"It wasn't anything big. We were just eating at a sandwich shop when we..." You zone out of what Natasha was saying.

You were thinking about your boyfriend. He is an amazing guy and you know you love spending time with him. This relationship was fairly new, only 2 months since you guys made it official. You wanted to introduce him to the rest of the Avengers.

You're pulled out of your thoughts by Thor's laugh.

"That was very funny!" He throws the rest of the pop tart into his mouth before walking away.

"I'm going to go to my room now, I'll see you guys in a couple of hours!" You wave at Natasha and Wanda and head to the elevator.

You go to push the button but a metal arm beats you to it.

"Oh, hey Bucky! Thanks for pushing the button." You smile up at him.

"No problem, Doll." Bucky smiles back at you.

The doors open and he gestures for you to go in first.

"You are being such a gentleman today Mr. Barnes," You smile up at him as you walk in.

"I try once in a while," Bucky smiles at you before walking in after you.

"So what are you planning to do this weekend?" You ask him.

"I don't know. I don't really have anything set in stone. Did you decide what movie you're going to see with your boyfriend?"

"Not yet. I think we're going to get dinner instead."

"That sounds nice." The doors to the elevator open and you both step out.

Bucky walks you to your door and smiles at you. "I'll see you later tonight, Doll."

"Bye Bucky," You walk into your room.

After a couple of hours of laying in bed doing nothing, you decide that it is time to start getting ready. You didn't buy any new makeup after shopping for a new dress so you didn't need to unpack anything except the dress. You hang it up in your closet before heading to the bathroom.

You take a quick shower, avoiding your hair since you washed it the night before. You stay in the bathroom and start to do your makeup. Just a simple look, nothing over the top. You decide against liquid liner and use eyeshadow instead. You debate about going for a bold red or a clear gloss but ultimately you choose the clear gloss. You decide to lightly curl your hair, leaving them in beachy waves.

You put on your bra and underwear before going into your closet for the dress. You put the dress on and smile at yourself in the mirror. You feel beautiful. You grab some strappy silver heels and head to the elevator. You were the last one to leave so you were alone the whole time.

You decide to send a text to your boyfriend.

I can't wait to spend some time with you this weekend.

You didn't bring a purse and you started to regret that until your phone buzzed with a new notification.

Me too. Did you decide where we're going to eat?

At the restaurant we always go to?

That sounds perfect

You smile at the messages before you exit the opening doors.

As soon as you walk out, you could tell it was a Tony Stark party. There were hundreds of people mingling, many of them trying to talk to the Avengers. Of course, the team would politely hold a conversation, well all except for Tony and Bucky, but they always found a way to get themselves out.

You decide to go to the bar and ask for a glass of white wine. You didn't want to get drunk, but you didn't want to only drink water. You find a small group, Wanda, Natasha, Vision, and Bruce, hanging out and sit next to Natasha.

"You look so good!" Wanda clapped her hands and smiled at you.

"Thank you!"

You guys hang around for a couple of hours, laughing at jokes and memories. You casually drink your wine, not wanting to get too intoxicated. As the party starts to wind down, the rest of the Avengers find their way to the couch. Some girls try to stay but Tony has them escorted out.

The only people left were you and the rest of the Avengers. This is the only thing that made the parties worth it. Although you guys live and work with each other every day, you guys were family. They had your back and you had theirs.

You guys were talking about past stories and then your love life became a topic.

"Oh come on Y/N! Tell us who your mystery boyfriend is!" Natasha begs.

"Yes Lady Y/N, I am curious as well." Thor injects himself.

"No! If I told you then he wouldn't be that much of a mystery now, would he? He's my secret boyfriend for a reason." You smile before sipping on your wine.

"We're not worthy," Steve whispers to himself, but everyone hears.

"Steve, no." Natasha shakes her head.

"Yeah, I agree with Nat." Bucky shakes his head at his best friend.

Natasha turns back to you. "Come on! Is it Barnes?"

"No," Bucky immediately answers.

"I'm going to have Wanda read your mind." Natasha looks at you before turning to Wanda.

"Leave the poor girl alone, Nat." Bruce comes to your rescue.

Steve is still looking down, thinking about his joke.

"Guys, Y/N isn't going to share who her boyfriend is. Let's just leave it alone." Bucky defends you.

"Aw! Thanks, Weiner Soldier!" You ruffle his hair.

"I thought my joke was funny," Steve finally looks up at the rest of the group.

Tony claps Steve's shoulder. "Sure it was Capsicle."

You get up and pull your dress down. "This has been fun, but all of you are pretty much drunk. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

You leave the room and the rest of the Avengers stay.

"Y/N is not Mjölnir Steve, you know that. Right?" Wanda turns to Steve.

"She might as well be!" Steve shrugs his shoulders.

Tagged Readers: @ordelixx @bellabarnes1378

#avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #james bucky buchanan barnes

66 notes · View notes

ikatakoirl · 2 years ago

Text

We need to normalize criticizing our favorite works, pointing out shortcomings in representation while simultaneously celebrating how far that representation has come. I’ll go first.

The Riordanverse (Percy Jackson and its spin-offs) is hands-down one of the best examples of mainstream queer representation for kids. It was probably the biggest formative element of my early queer journey, and I am so grateful for everything Rick Riordan has done for the community. I will continue to support him and his works with all of my heart.

That being said, he has a problem with squeezing his representation into the very last pages of the book, confirmed but not explored. We have three confirmed queer relationships involving demigods:

Nico and Will, confirmed in the last chapter of the series

Piper and Shel, confirmed on the very last page of The Burning Maze.

Magnus and Alex, confirmed in the last chapter of the series (they did kiss a bit earlier)

P.S. I forgot about Lavinia until just before posting, but her entire lesbianism also is introduced and concluded in the span of about a page.

As you can see, it’s extremely consistent. Like I said, these are the only three examples of queer teenage relationships over Riordan’s five series, and they all happen right at the end. We also find that most of the straight pairings (Percy/Annabeth, Frank/Hazel, Jason/Piper, Tyson/Ella, and even things like Hedge/Mellie are confirmed in the middle of the series and given room to grow our at least be referenced back to.

It’s unclear whether this was a conscious or unconscious decision. Perhaps Riordan felt constrained by his publisher. Perhaps he was afraid that he didn’t have the proper background knowledge to accurately write the details of a queer relationship. Both of these are understandable and valid, if a bit disappointing, and I would much rather that he wrote them as he did than not at all.

However…

The good news is that it seems like he’s trying to fix it! He sprinkled in enough of Will and Nico in the first book of the sequel series Trials of Apollo for me to forgive him for their lackluster confirmation in Heroes of Olympus. But then he surprised us all by making Nico and Will two of the five main characters on the Trials of Apollo’s finale (The Tower of Nero), and I can tell you that the fandom ate it up!

But in case that wasn’t enough, soon after the release of The Tower of Nero, Riordan announced The Sun and the Star, now set for release this May! In this book, Nico and Will are the protagonist and deuteragonist, meaning the story will be entirely focused around them! And just to make sure Riordan absolutely knows what he’s doing, he’s decided to co-write it with a gay author Mark Oshiro to make sure they can represent the characters accurately!

And… and the best part… Riordan has done his fair share of novellas and short stories, and ever since the announcement I had assumed that that’s what this was, but no! It’s a full-length book with 480 pages! To compare, that’s strangely enough the exact same page count as The Tower of Nero! I’m so blown away by how much Riordan has gone above and beyond with this book, and I’m insanely excited for it. Sorry this turned into The Sun and the Star propoganda, I didn’t know that the publication date was so close or how long it was until just now.

Anyway, where I’m going with this is that I have extreme respect for a creator who’s willing to listen to feedback from the kinds of people he is writing about and constantly grow from those mistakes! He’s still by far my favorite author of all time. Love you, Uncle Rick!

#lgbtq #rick riordan #solangelo #nico do angelo #will solace #magnus chase #alex fierro #piper mclean #percy jackon and the olympians #trials of apollo #heroes of olympus #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #the sun and the star

389 notes · View notes

noturvlentine · 2 years ago

Text

An encounter (pt 1)

༺ ♰ ༻

Leon Kennedy x reader series!!!!

Summary [series]- after Chris Redfield has requested for your transfer from the BSAA, you’re tasked with uncovering a chain of bio-terrorist attacks alongside Leon Kennedy. Destruction, duty and your untold past brings you spiralling into an unlikely bond with your partner, as efforts are made and promises are broken.

hi!! bear with me while I attempt to write this little series i had going on in my head for a while- it might be 5-10 parts or so but im trying to see how long this narrative goes in terms of chapter length. EVERYTHING IS A WORK IN PROGRESS!!!

i might finalise and actual title for the series later but i thought it was nice to get the first chapter out while the rest unfolds in messy notes ive been taking down. I’ll definitely put the masterlist to this series on here when ive got more parts written :)

hope this isnt too much of a confusing read and any feedback is appreciated!! Also- requests are still open!!! - j🖤

1.8k words

Part 2

༺ ♰ ༻

Washington DC

8:30AM

2009

Two days. That’s all they gave you. Two days time off from the last BSAA issued mission which had you sitting in the med bay for three consecutive nights, test after test to insure you hadn’t caught any strain of virus from getting beaten up by B.O.Ws. You’d been transferred to the USSTRATCOM before you could get comfortable in your own bed again. Chris Redfield himself had you commissioned for a good two months down at a station in South America, carrying out operations for BSAA intel which had gotten you into a whole lot of trouble by the last week, hence the man himself took in three squadrons to finish the job. And when the time came for STRATCOM to issue additional ‘more than capable’ agents, Redfield had personally put in a request for you to be transferred to a more- suited position. You’d been under his and the BSAA’s command for the past 8 years as recommended by your commanding officers from military- seeing as they’d found no other candidates as hard in the head and skilled as needed.

Now you were here, headed towards the reception of an all-too-well government agency better built then the BSAA could’ve ever wished for. Not like you had a choice anyway, Redfield wouldn’t be allowing you back into his side of the field for security reasons and well, because he was worried. You felt so- small in this large hall that would be USSTRATCOM’s lobby, your interaction with the woman at the desk echoed like a pathetic whisper.

“I’m sorry but you’re not registered here. I can look you up if you were with any other department-“

“That won’t be needed, she should be cleared.” A smile interrupted your one sided exchange with some government receptionist.

You turned to the woman who’d just claimed she had cleared you.

“Ingrid Hunnigan, I’ve been issued to your transfer.”

There was no need for an introduction, she basically had you on file. Hunnigan made her way around the desk, signalling for you to tail behind.

You wanted to ask her details on the job, how long you’d be out, when you’d be out, introduction to an F.O.S agent- nothing came out except small nods in understanding as she pointlessly flagged out the entire building as you walked through the rustling halls. You’ve grown to not care much about human interaction outside of what needed to be done.

“They didn’t brief you on anything?” She whipped her head around and stopped in her tracks.

“Not at all.”

And that was enough to receive a huff of disappointment as she redirected her route.

Oblivious to your party, a certain agent was currently flicking through your life’s record at the end of the hall, skimming over your profile and various written reports out of a Manila folder, fair in size but not large enough for a normal agent file. His eyes tracing over your documents- despite your age you were quite accomplished, issued in the military and pulled out of ranger school to transfer to the torturous trainings of the BSAA and other government parties alike. You’d even remember briefly having sessions at USSOCOM before you were on field with the BSAA, you’d come in, left a mark and went straight off to work for Chris Redfield.

As you kept walking, Hunnigan had managed to find you a copy of the mission briefing at her office before heading out to the hall again. You were handed a thick set of papers- enough to make you question how big of a job this was. Before your eyes finished with the first page, Hunnigan was three steps further down the hall.

“Leon!” She stopped in her tracks. “I thought you weren’t meant to be here until 9?”

Leon. You seen and heard of him time and time again from Redfield despite their lack of interaction with one another. That name alone made you look up from your hands, startled almost. You envied him in some way- or at least what you had heard of him. Not because he was the presidents golden boy, nor because he was everyone’s favourite toy to send after bio-terrorists. No, you simply envied his will to live and to save others- you envied that in Chris a little bit too if you were completely honest. Little did you know, he had heard a bit about you here and there too.

“Well it doesn’t hurt to arrive a bit earlier.” He turned and greeted you with a warm smile. Unusual huh. Not many people with a tragic life like his working two and two for the government had enough will power to greet anyone like that. Your lack of reciprocation made the exchange unlawfully bitter. He stood up from the bench in the hall, reaching his hand out for you to shake.

“This is agent Kennedy, I’m sure you’ve heard a bit about him from around the place. I assume Chris has familiarised you with his presence on this earth.” Hunnigan was inclined on introducing you two and before she could finish your name, he’d already repeated it back to you. He was tall, but not an intimidating height, a firm but gentle grip, roughly shaven and kind blue eyes. No one ever mentioned his look of warmth before.

“I’m sure you two will have more than enough time to know each other, and seeing as your both here why don’t we just get started.” You don’t remember her conversations with you being this light hearted, well- if you could even call them proper conversations amidst your prolonged stroll through the building.

Washington DC

Conference Room 6A

09:00AM

You were almost like some sort of loyal hound to Chris. Sure, you followed orders, got the job done but under the necessary circumstances. Not to mention- being backed up by a squad. You really never left his side despite his muddled up tactical morals, you always managed to fall under his command. This was different. The strings were coiled tighter. And there was no Redfield to suggest that he had a better idea.

You could tell by the annoyance in Leon’s otherwise-abnormally-kind eyes that he wanted to protest against the idea. He was a field agent, a rather special one but he certainly wasn’t some sort of government spy. And neither were you. Hunnigan wasnt exactly asking. In fact she had no say in approval as shes just an F.O.S agent who’s unfortunate circumstances had her picking up after Leon Kennedy.

“Leon we dont have another option” she sighed, tiredly removing her glasses and setting her hand to pinch on the bridge of her nose. “Look, if this really is a plan that’ll result in a chain of bio-terrorist attacks then we can’t be stuck in the deep end.” So- nothing but a wild goose chase into unmarked territory.

Unmarked, exactly what people look for when they want to satisfy themselves with bioterrorism. The BSAA could only ever cover so much terrain, and Chris wanted to punch himself for how easily the US stuck their fingers into his shit.

“Leon-” she sighed again, some sort of tired mother fed up with her teenage son’s lack of common sense in the world, blandly trying to explain to him basic parameters. “We wouldn’t have called if there was anyone else suitable foe the mission.” Leon huffed at the repetitiveness of the lines to follow, which earned him a less patient, more aggressive tone from Hunnigan. “You’d still be shit faced on vacation right now and /kitten/ here would still be tailing Chris Redfield like some sort if spirit animal.”

Leon shifted his gaze towards you, surprised to see no reaction from the otherwise offensive nickname Hunnigan spat out at you. You weren’t denying it, and Leon had had enough of her passive aggressiveness.

“If this all goes south, well have escorts from our nearest location pull you out of there immediately-“

Bold promise to make. You knew STRATCOM was good- but how good? Last time you heard anything about their squads was from Chris Redfield ‘warning’ his team not to fuck up because he didn’t want his XOs filling out mountains of post-operation paperwork. Cleanup was a lengthy process and he hates seeing squad kids packed in bags because of some strategical fuck up. ‘I don’t want a repeat of STRATCOM’s last mission’, he’d said for months on end, pestering kids into learning their shit and paying attention more. Redfield wasn’t in the position to lose any more soldiers- he couldn’t afford to.

You leant back on the table, hands rested over the ledge so you could scornfully and casually flick through the rest of the file laid out beside you. Leon was still standing beside you, a good distance, arms crossed staring firmly at Hunnigan, patiently awaiting her next spew of words. She sighed, deep and heavy and put her glasses back on as she sat up in her chair.

“You leave tomorrow at noon. Escort will be waiting out the back of West Wing so if you could please familiarise yourself with that area and collect your gear before then that would be great.”

That part was directed to you. West wing is on the west side of the building, but where the fuck that is you hadn’t bothered paying attention to. Hunnigan opened her mouth to say something again- but ultimately decided against the idea and instead followed her instructions with ‘any questions?’, before all of you remained in silence and she quickly dismissed you. Hunnigan, in a silent annoyance, packed up the file and left the empty conference room leaving you and Leon to wilt in each others presence.

You watched the dust particles floating around the ray of sunshine hitting the carpet, tapping your finger on the edge of the table.

“Sorry about her. I think she’s just sick of me at this point. But a job’s a job, right?”

Out of the blue, Leon uncrossed his arms and sighed in amusement. You looked up at him, phased by his forgiving attitude, sending a huff and nod in agreement. You resentfully pushed yourself off this table, informally stretching your back as you adjusted yourself.

“See you tomorrow then I guess.” You snarked, backing your way towards the door.

“No introductions?”

“You’ve read my file-“

“That file says nothing about you-“ Leon laughed. You shrugged in return as you reached the heavy wooden door to the hall.

“Nothing to know Agent Kennedy.” You mumbled, like he could barely hear it.

AN: OKAY THATS AN IDEA OF WHAT IT MIGHT BE AND I HOPE THAT WASNT TOO HORRIBLE!!! if theres anything you’d like me to know just shoot a message or send in something :)

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil series #chris redfeild x reader #resident evil fanfiction #chris resident evil #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x y/n #slow burn #resident evil angst

192 notes · View notes

formulauno98 · 2 years ago

Text

Once Upon a Time in France | Chapter Eight // Part Two

Life is funny, the way it can turn on its head in a matter of seconds. Sometimes it happens naturally, sometimes it's helped along by friends or foes, and in your case, it would be the latter.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: Angsty angst (Sorry guys!)

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction, no-one is married in this alt-universe.

SATURDAY AM

Following your x-rated beach romp, you and Toto had decided it was wise to spend the night apart as your motorhomes were so far away from each other and yours was in sight of prying eyes, aka Lara. You tossed and turned all night, having gotten used to falling asleep in the comfort of Toto’s arms, so when you woke early on Saturday morning you felt anything but refreshed.

Rubbing your eyes, you leant across your bed to reach for your phone where it was charging. Three new messages.

(08:03) Morning my love. The FIA has called a meeting so I can’t go yet. I promise I will go afterwards. I hope you are okay and got some sleep. X

(08:10) Actually I will go now. X

(08:21) Ignore that, Stefano caught me. I am so sorry I know you are worried. X

You knew it was going to be tricky this morning and sighed as you considered the possible consequences of last night's actions. Surely a one-time slip-up was not going to get you pregnant, and as he said, Toto was a slightly older man, but then again stranger things had happened.

You typed out a reply.

Morning, hope you slept okay too. No worries, I will ask around in the medical centre just in case. Don’t panic xx

Groaning as you got out of bed, you quickly got ready for the day, trying your best to cover up the dark circles that had appeared under your eyes. So much for a romantic getaway and relieving stress.

———

As you strode through the paddock towards the medical centre, you prayed you wouldn’t run into anyone you knew. For once luck was on your side and you made it unscathed and uninterrupted to the small motorhome normally reserved for injured drivers or mechanics who had had an accident.

Knocking awkwardly on the door, you hoped someone would be there already.

“Come in.” called out a voice from inside.

Opening the door, you took a deep breath. “Hi, how are you?” you said to the woman sitting inside the trailer.

“Very well thank you, how can I help?”

Suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable, you shifted nervously, “Well… the thing is, I was wondering if you happen to have the morning-after pill?”

The woman’s eyes widened in surprise, it was obviously not a common request during race weekend.

“Oh.” she said, taken aback, “Let me see. I’m not sure if we do to be totally honest.”

She busied herself at the shelving unit behind where she had been sat, rifling through boxes and boxes of pills and potions.

“Ooh you’re in luck,” she said, pulling out a dusty-looking box.

“For real?” you thanked whatever Gods were currently watching over you.

“Hang on, hang on, I think it’s out of date.” she said, scanning the box, “I’m so sorry, you can’t take it if it’s expired, it won’t work.”

“Shit.” you said under your breath, “Do you think anywhere nearby will have them?”

The woman grimaced, “To be honest no, but I could ask the paramedics to bring some when they come up later?”

Your eyes lit up, “Oh my gosh if you could that would be amazing! Can I leave you my phone number?”

“I can’t promise but I will try.” the woman said kindly, “Sure, let me grab a pen and paper and I’ll call you if they bring them.”

You quickly scrawled your number on the post-it note, thanking the woman profusely for her help before making your way back towards the Mercedes hospitality area. Hopefully, it meant that you would be okay. Not sure if Toto was still in the FIA meeting you decided to drop him a text.

Good news, I went to the medical centre and they’re going to get it for me. Panic over xx

As you walked along you felt your phone buzz. He was obviously out of the meeting.

Good

From the length of his text, perhaps he was still in the meeting. A weight off your mind, you felt much better about the day before you as you made your way up to your office.

“Morning Y/N.” It was a joy to see the friendly face of Rosie as you walked through the hospitality area.

“Hey Rosie, how are you?” you said, stopping to chat for a minute.

“Good thanks, George is being a weirdo though,” she said, her pretty face screwed up.

“What, how come?” you said, concerned as she’d never complained to you about her normally doting boyfriend.

“I don’t know. He didn’t want me to stay in his motorhome last night,” she said, her eyes looking like they were on the brink of tears.

“Aw no Rosie,” you said, slipping an arm around her shoulders, “I’m sure he was just getting into the racing mindset.”

“But we always stay together now,” she said sadly.

A sudden thought hit you, “I wonder, his motorhome is more or less attached to Toto’s. Maybe he was uncomfortable with it?”

Rosie’s eyes lit up, “Oh, maybe! But Toto wouldn’t say anything,” she lowered her voice, “Especially not when you’re there.”

“I wasn’t actually,” you said absentmindedly.

“Really?” asked Rosie.

“I promise. We both needed a rest,” you said tactfully.

“Oh, ok, this makes me feel better,” she said, looking much happier than she had done a moment ago.

“Happy to help. Honestly, I’m sure that’s it,” you said reassuringly.

“Thanks, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she said, smiling.

“Probably more of your job,” you said laughing. “Right, I have to go and actually work, I’ll see you

around okay?”

“See you,” Rosie said as you made your way towards the stairs up to your office.

———

The morning flew by, full of endless calls and emails. But you still hadn’t heard a peep from Toto. Starting to get concerned, you were about to drop him a text when he came bursting into your office.

“Well hello stranger,” you said smiling, your face immediately dropping as you saw his thunderous expression.

“Did you not see?” he asked exasperatedly.

“See what?” you asked, wondering what could have him in such a panic. Was it a car emergency? Was

one of the drivers sick?

Toto sat down on your small sofa, his head in his hands. “Sky.”

“Sky?” you repeated. “They’re normally okay, what happened?”

“Christian,” he said.

At this point you were concerned, Toto had a temper but this wordless fury was something you’d never seen before.

“Toto, I know Christian’s a dick. What’s new?” you said.

As he’d been scrolling through his phone, Toto had found the clip he was looking for and silently passed it across the table. It was footage from after the FIA meeting. Sky had collared Toto and Christian and they were side by side looking deeply uncomfortable.

“So, any upgrades for this weekend Toto?” asked Johnny, the Sky reporter.

Just as Toto had opened his mouth to answer, Christian butted in, “Toto’s got himself a whole new ride, didn’t you hear Johnny?”

Although Johnny was off camera, you could tell that he was uncomfortable from his response, “What do you mean Christian?”

“He’s got a hot, young girlfriend following him around the paddock,” said Christian smugly.

Beside him, Toto looked beyond furious, as if he was trying his hardest not to punch Christian then and

there.

Ever the professional, Johnny replied, “That’s interesting Christian, but I think our viewers are more interested in Mercedes’ performance for the weekend as opposed to Toto’s. No offence Toto, I’m sure your new girlfriend is a lovely woman. Lucky lady!”

Pausing the video, you interjected, “This is not so bad Toto! Johnny handled it well.”

“No, there’s more,” said Toto glumly.

Playing the video once more, Christian quipped back “But Johnny you know her!”

“Do I?” asked the confused reporter.

“Yes, she’s their Director of Communications, Y/N, the one who’s always on Toto’s arm.”

You could see Toto sitting across from you, balling his fists in silent rage, while on the video he looked livid once again.

To give him his due, Johnny tried to save the situation, “Well that’s lovely. Congratulations Toto, so I’ll try one more time. What upgrades have you brought?”

Stopping the video you sat back in your chair, feeling sick to your stomach.

“Fuck.” you said, looking at Toto.

“Fuck indeed,” he said. “I want to kill Christian.”

“Me too,” you said. “What is actually wrong with that man?”

Toto just shook his head, too angry to speak. As if on cue, your phone suddenly buzzed multiple times. It was the Comms Team Whatsapp group, blowing up as they had all seen the interview.

What’s this about you and Toto?

OMG! Is this true?

Wtf is he on about?

“Fuck.” you exclaimed, once again, looking at Toto pleadingly. “It’s my team, all asking if it’s true.”

Toto sighed, rubbing his forehead, a nervous tic that always emerged when he was feeling the pressure. “Let me think for a moment.”

Sitting there awkwardly, you began to scroll through your email when a new one pinged through. It was from Pamela from HR, asking you to meet her on Monday. She’d obviously seen the video too and was not happy.

“HR wants to see me on Monday,” you said fearfully.

“For real?” he replied, “Don’t talk to them I will.”

‘Toto…” you started.

“Don’t. It’s not fair for them to take it out on you,” he said, his eyes now full of concern. “I don’t say this often but I own a third of the team. What are they going to say to me?”

“That’s true.” you said, “Although now I have to handle this with our team and the media.”

Toto stood up, crossing over to where you sat, bending down to meet you at eye level, and taking your hands in his. “Look Y/N, it will be okay. We can downplay it with the team and I will take care of HR so you don’t need to worry?”

“Sure.” You said, “I hate that man.”

“Me too.” said Toto, leaning forward to nuzzle your neck, “I don’t want him to ruin things before they even have a chance to begin.”

“Me neither,” you said, kissing him softly square on the lips.

“Don’t worry, I will fix this.” he said, breaking the kiss, “I had better go. Let’s reconvene in the garage later.”

“Thank you,” you said.

———

Unlike your usual confident self, this situation had reduced you to hiding in your office for the rest of the morning, dreading the moment you had to walk into the garage later on. You knew eyes would be on you and Toto as Sky interviews tended to gain the most traction amongst the paddock.

Your phone had continued to blow up all morning, the only saving grace being that thankfully the news seemed to be very much contained within the Formula One microcosm so you had yet to face any scrutiny from your family and friends.

When the time came to make your way down, you stood up, straightening your team shirt and took some deep breaths. Nothing had really changed and you had to remember your trusty mantra, as the saying goes, today's news is tomorrow's chip paper. Hoping that qualifying would gloss over this bump, you got moving.

Entering the garage you were absolutely correct in your fears that eyes would be on you. Engineers who never normally blinked all did a double take, curious to see what all the fuss was about. Fortunately, Lewis came to your rescue.

“Hey Y/N, how's it going?” he said, hooking an arm over your shoulder in some kind of side hug.

“Good thanks, well… I’ve had better days. How are you?” you asked, managing a smile for the charming driver.

“Ah, don’t worry, people don’t care that much,” he said, aware of exactly what was bothering you.

“Tell that to HR,” you said quietly.

“HR?” Lewis’ eyebrows shot up, “Can’t Toto like overrule them?”

You smiled weakly, “That’s what he said.”

“Yeah he will, don’t worry.” said Lewis, “I need to go and see the big man, want to go together so it’s less weird?”

Really appreciative of Lewis’ ability to navigate any social situation you nodded, following him through the maze of engineering equipment strewn around.

“Hey boss!” said Lewis, clapping his hands on the back of Toto’s shoulders where he sat hunched over a monitor, glowering.

Turning around Toto looked surprised to see you alongside Lewis. “Hello.” was all he managed.

“You okay?” asked Lewis, clearly concerned for his normally confident boss.

“Yes, sorry,” said Toto, turning back around to face the monitor.

Exchanging a puzzled look with you Lewis added, “I came over to ask you about this upgrade package.”

Tuning out their technical discussion your eyes swept the garage. Maybe Lewis was right and people really didn’t care. No one was giving you a second look, maybe all was well.

“Y/N.” you snapped out of your thoughts as Tom approached you, “Can I have a word?”

“Hi Tom,” you said somewhat robotically, “Sure, but I do have a lot to go through with this lot. Is it urgent?”

Looking bashful Tom replied, “No no it can wait. Talk later.” As he walked off you could see his eyes going back and forth between you and Toto.

———

You weren't surprised, you knew that the team would be curious about your newly revealed relationship and Tom was always the first to find out gossip. As much as you felt guilty for keeping them in the dark, another part of you thought about the fact that the relationship was still very new and it would be extremely awkward at this point if it weren't to work out. Deciding to bite the bullet, you settled down on the stool beside Toto.

“Hey,” you said.

Toto flicked his head around quickly, barely acknowledging you with a quick “Hi” before going back to studying his monitor. On any other occasion his innate awkwardness would have made you laugh but today it felt as if it was apt.

SATURDAY PM

As qualifying got underway Toto barely took a second glance at you, something that as much as you wouldn't want to admit it put you out. He was always normally sneaking glances in the garage and the fact that now he was actively avoiding you was almost insulting. To make matters worse Lara had decided to come and sit down in the garage and you could feel her mean eyes boring into your back. You still couldn't understand her problem and you were absolutely sure that it ran deeper than just the fact that Toto had seen with the engineer. But that was another issue for another day.

Unfortunately, the day was going from bad to worse as you could see that Lewis and George were both struggling during qualifying. You knew it was especially bad when Bono, normally the world's calmest man, looked like he was about to panic. He was looking thoroughly perturbed by the results that he was seeing on his monitor and was struggling to keep cool on the radio as he spoke to Lewis.

Ultimately neither of the drivers made it out of Q2, a disappointing result for the team and one that definitely was not going to help Toto's bad mood. As the two drivers came in, hanging their heads in shame, you tried to get a little nearer to Toto to see to gauge what he wanted to do next. However, in the place of your normally warm boss turned boyfriend, you were met with a cold shoulder. He dismissed you every time you tried to get his attention, at one point spinning around so that his back was to you.

Pissed off by the way he was acting, you silently slid off of your stool and made your way over to Tom.

“Hey Tom, what was it that you wanted to speak about earlier?” you asked, still glancing over at Toto who looked positively raging.

Looking nervous Tom stuttered, “Well, that interview this morning… what was that? Is it true?”

You sighed, lowering your voice, “Look, Toto and I are close. You know that. But what Christian said is not true. He was just trying to wind up Toto once again.”

Tom looked slightly relieved at the news, “Thank fuck for that!”

Surprised by his reaction, you asked, “Why?”

Tom also lowered his voice, sneaking glances across the garage, “Well, he’s… Toto. He’s old and grumpy as fuck. I like him a lot but I couldn’t imagine you two…”

You laughed, “Naw, he’s a big old softie really.”

Tom’s eyes lit up, “Oh my God, it is true!”

Crossing your arms, you protested, “Not at all! I just think he gets a bad wrap.”

“Sure sure,” said Tom unconvinced, his eyes still playing tennis between you and Toto, who was now snapping at a poor engineer who seemed to have done something to displease him, “Such a catch.”

“Tom..” you said warningly. “Don’t you have some sponsors to be looking after anyway?”

“They all left for the day.” he said smugly, “I came down here to make sure Ben and Louis got some content with Lewis drinking Monster Energy.”

“Well then, maybe you should be doing that,” you said coldly, not thrilled with the way Tom was speaking to you, his manager.

He looked surprised by your cool tone but nodded in agreement, “Right boss. See you later.”

Your eyes still on Toto, you barely acknowledged Tom leaving your side. Thankfully, Sophie appeared as if from nowhere, always eager to help.

“Hi Y/N.” she said cheerily, her enthusiasm never going down, “How’s everything?”

“Great thank you,” you said, trying to buoy your mood.

“Is there anything I can help with?” Sophie asked eagerly.

“Yes actually, I have a few potential sponsors coming down tomorrow and I’d love to gift them some team merchandise, could you please organise this with Mo? I’ll forward you the email.”

“Sure,” said Sophie brightly, “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

Sighing, you braced yourself for a repeat of the conversation that you’d just had with Tom.

“Of course,” you said, trying to remain level-headed.

“Do you think I could invite a friend to a race soon?”

This was not what you were expecting at all, “Oh my gosh, of course, let me know which race and you can have some of my paddock pass allowance.”

Sophie looked thrilled, “Really? Thank you so much, you’re the best boss!”

Smiling, you replied, “Just let me know when.”

“Thank you, thank you!” she exclaimed, “Also, I hope this is not out of line but…”

“You saw the Sky interview?” you interjected.

“Yes,” she said meekly.

“Christian Horner is always looking for ways to wind up Toto. If you pardon my French, he was talking shit. As usual.”

Sophie looked a little shocked, “Oh. Okay, that makes sense, but isn’t that slander?”

“I suppose,” you said nonchalantly, knowing full well you couldn’t accuse him of that.

“That’s so weird of him.” She said, “Toto looks so angry, I’ve never seen him like this.”

You shrugged, “He gets like this sometimes.”

Sophie grimaced, “Well, good luck for your meeting with him. I will go back and sort the gifting for you.”

“Thanks, Sophie,” you said, grateful for your assistant. As annoying as she could be sometimes, her

heart was in the right place and you were growing fonder of her by the day.

———

As you waited in Toto’s office for your usual post-qualifying debrief, you were nervous. He hadn’t ever been this cold towards you and you hoped beyond hope that Christian hadn’t ruined everything. The clock ticked on, and by the time he stormed in, he was twenty minutes late, again something very unlike him.

“Hi,” he said, taking his seat across from you and whipping out his iPad.

“Well hello to you too,” you said, put out by his abrupt tone.

“Sorry. I am just not in the mood,” he said, his shoulders tense as he furiously typed something on his iPad.

‘Okay.” you said, sensing that maybe it was time to go, “I can leave you in peace?”

Toto sighed, “No I don’t want that. Sorry”

“It’s okay, to be honest, what is there to say?” you said.

“Lots.” he said, slamming his iPad shut, “I’ve had the Board on the phone, they’re pissed.”

Your mouth dropped open, “The Board?”

“Yes.” he said wearily, “They’re not happy with me.”

“Fuck, Toto,” you said, not sure what to say.

“Indeed.” he said sharply, “After I spoke to HR, they told me that the Board requested they meet with you. Y/N they want you gone.”

Tears welling in your eyes, you thought about everything that had transpired, “Well. Then I guess we have no choice.”

Toto looked at you pleadingly, “No, we do. Pushing my feelings for you completely to one side, you are the best Director of Communications our team has ever had.”

“Well there have only been three...” you said, wiping away a tear.

“Oh shut up.” said Toto, “You’ve raised a hell of a lot of sponsorship money, appeased people who were going to jump ship and managed the press brilliantly. Not to mention onboarded new sponsors that no one else ever would have considered.”

Giving Toto a small smile, you replied, “Well all in a day's work.”

“Exactly, so I don’t see how they can let you go,” Toto said, reaching across his desk to take your hand in his. “You need to argue your case.”

“Okay,” you said weakly.

“Did anyone ask you about the interview?” Toto asked, his demeanour now shifted back to concerned boyfriend.

“A few people, how about you?” you gulped, trying to stop crying.

“Same.” Toto said, “Don’t cry please, I don’t like it when you cry.”

“You’ve never seen me cry, what are you on about?” you said, wiping another stray tear.

“Yes I have,” he said indignantly. “Remember in Baku?”

Casting your mind back, you remembered. You’d cried when you thought about all the things people would say if they found out about you and Toto. “Oh yes,” you said quietly. “I wasn’t wrong was I?”

“Shh.” said Toto, wiping away your tears with his thumb, “No one is saying anything like that. Bono said he didn’t believe it because you’re too good for the likes of me.”

Shaking your head, you replied shakily, “Bullshit.”

“He’s not wrong.” said Toto, “If you saw us in the street together, you’d think wow, lucky guy punching above his weight. He must be loaded or have a really big dick.”

Snorting with laughter, you replied, “Well then they wouldn’t be wrong.”

Toto rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t actually,” you said, your tears having dried up. “Toto, I love you for you, not for your money or your clout or your just slightly larger than average dick.”

“Just slightly larger than average?” Toto said, raising his eyebrow, “Shit, that hurts.”

“That’s what she said,” you said with a smirk. “Joking aside, you’re so kind, you’re so patient, you make everyone around you feel valued. These aren’t common traits, especially not in some bigshot

businessman.”

Toto looked pleased with himself, “I try.”

“You succeed,” you said, leaning across and kissing him on the corner of his mouth.

“Okay, so we have a plan,” said Toto. “And if anyone asks about us in the meantime, denial is not just a

river in Egypt?”

You burst out laughing, “Jesus, 1982 called, it wants its joke back. Yes, that’s what I’ve been doing all morning.”

Toto shook his head, “You’re so mean to me.”

SUNDAY PM

As disastrous as qualifying had been, it was nothing compared to the race itself. George had suffered damage to his front wing early on after a small collision and was stuck in P14 behind a DRS train. Lewis wasn’t faring much better and was trundling on at P5, a considerable gap to make up if he wanted a podium.

Morale in the garage was at an all-time low and despite your chat the previous afternoon, Toto had reverted back to his bad mood. You'd once again spent the night apart due to the inconspicuous sleeping arrangements so you'd hardly seen him until you'd arrived in the garage.

He had snapped at Sophie, something that you would be having a word with him about and grumbled at the catering team about his coffee being too hot. All in all, not the man you knew and loved.

By the time the race was coming to a close, George was still floundering at P9, having fought for a few measly points and Lewis continued to run his own race in no-man's land at P5. It was the worst performance of the season and a rare slip-up for your well-oiled team. Frustratingly Red Bull were P1 and P2, meaning they would gain a significant amount of points, letting them pull ahead further in the Constructors Championship.

As the two Mercedes crossed the chequered flag, the garage weakly applauded, more out of politeness than enthusiasm. You clocked that Toto wasn’t joining in, looking utterly dejected.

Knowing that Sky wanted to talk to him, you apprehensively made your way over.

“Hey boss,” you said weakly, careful not to give anything away once again as you knew that your colleagues were still deeply suspicious.

“Hello.” he said, “Sky wants me?”

“Yes.” you said, “Shall we go?”

“If I have to,” said Toto.

Behind him Bono caught your eye, winking at you before teasing. “Damn, Christian Horner is right, the sexual tension. It’s palpable.”

Smirking at the goofy race engineer you replied sarcastically, “I know right.”

Toto however, was not amused. “Bono now is not the time.”

“You’re right, sorry boss,” said Bono, catching your eye once again and making a face.

Toto strode off, leaving you struggling to catch up, almost having to pick up a light jog.

“Hey, slow down big man,” you said, as you finally caught him up.

“Sorry.” he said, “I just want this over and done with.”

Concerned as you’d never seen Toto so down in the dumps you tried to reassure him, “It’s fine, we had a shit weekend, it happens. At least we’re not Haas.”

Offering you a small smile, Toto seemed to rally around a little. “That’s true.”

You soon reached the Sky podium where Johnny, Jenson and Naomi, the three presenters, were eagerly waiting for Toto.

As the production team miked him up, you could feel their curious eyes on you, all having been present for yesterday’s interview. You looked nervously towards Toto who was studying the floor with great interest, clearly also apprehensive.

Fortunately, you needn’t have worried, Sky were always professional and without the addition of Toto’s arch nemesis, they stuck strictly to work-related questions. It seemed as if you had both panicked for nothing and ultimately people didn’t really care who a Team Principal shared his bed with.

They did, however, ask Toto for answers on why performance was so poor this weekend, something that he struggled to answer as the technical team were still trying to figure it out themselves. It wasn’t the worst interview but for sure not the best.

Just as Toto stepped down from the platform to give his mic equipment back, your phone buzzed.

Hello Y/N, it’s Sylvie from the Medical Centre. I am sorry but I did not manage to get your pill. I recommend you go to the doctor asap.

Trying not to betray your emotions, you hurriedly typed a reply and put your phone away as Toto said his goodbyes to the Sky team.

Wandering back towards the Mercedes hospitality area your head was spinning. In the chaos of the weekend, you had totally forgotten about your morning-after pill debacle. You couldn’t remember off the top of your head but it had now been over twenty-four hours and you weren’t sure how long you had before it wouldn’t work.

“Everything okay?” asked Toto, sensing your mind was elsewhere.

“Yes thanks, that was good. Well done,” you said shortly.

“Are you sure?” he pressed.

“Yep. All good,” you said, forcing a smile.

Toto looked confused but ultimately gave up pushing and you made your way back through the throng of teams in comfortable silence.

You were nervous about the team debrief that was to follow the race but in a way grateful that the team’s poor performance would be the main topic of discussion.

“Y/N,” Toto suddenly turned to you as you made your way up the stairs towards your respective offices, “Don’t get upset but I have to go back to Monaco later.”

“Huh?” you said, surprised at this news. You had been due to take the jet back to the UK together with several colleagues. “How come?”

“Just some business,” he said mysteriously, not giving anything away.

“Okay, sure,” you said, not sure what to make of this. In the events of the race weekend, you’d almost forgotten about your impending meeting with HR and were suddenly nervous that you would be doing it without Toto in the office, let alone the country.

“I’m sorry I can’t be there for your meeting,” he said, starchily. “I will check in though.”

“Okay,” you said, surprised by his suddenly frosty attitude.

MONDAY AM

The flight back to the UK had been uneventful and you’d sat in silence as the team furiously picked apart the race data, trying to get to the bottom of why Lewis didn’t have the pace. You felt rough once again, not having slept a wink. Toto had left shortly after the debrief and you hadn’t heard a peep since. It was unlike him both on a personal and professional level and as much as you hated to admit it, it had deeply upset you.

The landing was smooth and as you made your way down the stairs and onto the tarmac, the doom of having to face HR really set in.

“Everything okay?” asked Rosie as she made her way towards you. You would be sharing a car with her and George as you were all going straight to the factory.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, tears once again pooling in your eyes.

“No it’s not,” Rosie said kindly before turning around to her boyfriend who was also heading over

“George, will you go with the guys? We have some work things to chat about.”

Looking put out at being dismissed by his girlfriend, George shrugged and replied, “Sure, see you

later.”

“Thanks,” you said, sliding into the back seat of the car, Rosie following suit.

“So what’s up?” Rosie asked kindly.

You sighed, “I don’t even know where to start.”

“At the beginning maybe?”

“Very funny,” you said, rolling up the privacy partition so that your driver wouldn’t overhear.

“Oh that kind of story?” said Rosie, knowing that whenever the partition went up, something was afoot.

“Ugh, so did you see the Sky interview with Toto and Christian on Saturday?”

“Yes, wait is that what you’re worried about? C’mon, it was Christian Horner. Nobody takes a word he says seriously.”

You smiled weakly, “Really?”

“Yeah!” Rosie huffed, “Everybody thought he was being an idiot. And for the record, everybody said Toto would in no way be able to pull you.”

“That’s what Bono said to Toto!” you said.

“See!” said Rosie, “The whole thing was ridiculous.”

“Well, the Board doesn't think so. They’ve called me into a meeting with HR later.”

‘What the fuck?” said Rosie, “Because of a stupid Sky puff piece?”

“Yup.” you said, “We originally thought it was just HR and Toto asked them to cancel it but turns out it was the Board.”

“Fuck.” said Rosie, “But really what are they going to say?”

“I don’t know.” you sighed, “I re-read my contract last night and it says no relationships with colleagues.”

“Does it?” said Rosie, “Well that’s me and George fucked then.”

“No offence but the Board doesn’t care about you or George. Toto is the figurehead of the team, I guess they don’t like the image of him sleeping with his employees.”

“Oh…” said Rosie, “Well, surely you can just say it’s not true?”

“The thing is, I would but then what if this goes somewhere and then they find out we lied?” you said.

Rosie looked ecstatic, “You think it’s going to go somewhere?”

“I hope so.” you said, “Toto told me he loved me the other day.”

“Oh my God!” Rosie squealed, “Tell me, when, where?”

You grimaced thinking back to what had transpired on the beach, “Um, so we went to the beach on Friday night.”

“That’s why you didn’t come out!” Rosie exclaimed, “I knew it!”

You smirked, “Well anyway we watched the sunset on the beach and then had a little cuddle and he told me he loved me.”

“A little cuddle?” Rosie quirked an eyebrow, “Did you have sex on the beach?”

You blushed, thinking back to that evening, “No…”

“Oh my God, you’re blushing, you totally did!” Rosie said, “I’m not surprised by you but Toto! Didn’t think he was the type.”

“Rosie..” you started, “Breathe a word of this to anyone and I will kill you.”

“How was it?” she asked, “I want juicy details. Ugh, you’re so lucky, I wish George would do all this stuff.”

You laughed, “Well, it was a really bad idea.”

“How come?” she asked.

“Well… I don’t want to scar you.”

“Y/N, I overheard you getting eaten out by our boss. I think we’re past that.”

“Touché.” you replied, “We got a little carried away and he finished in me.”

Rosie looked as if she was going to combust, “And?”

“I’m not on any birth control.” you paused, “I tried to get the morning-after pill at the medical centre but it was expired and they couldn’t get it. And then everything kicked off with the interview and the bad quali so I ran out of time.”

“Fuck.” said Rosie, “You should have come to me.”

“It’s okay, there was nothing anyone could do. Toto was going to drive to a pharmacy but he ran out of time.”

“What are you going to do?” Rosie asked with concern.

“Well firstly if I survive this meeting, I will hotfoot it to the doctors,” you said. “Toto’s fucked off to

Monaco so I’m not even sure what is going on there.”

“Weird.” said Rosie, “I’m surprised he’s letting you do this meeting alone.”

“Me too,” you said, looking at the fields as you rolled closer and closer to the factory.

MONDAY PM

Sitting in your office, you steeled yourself in preparation for your upcoming meeting. Glancing at the clock you had three minutes to get to the HR office so you decided to bite the bullet and make your way down, for what was likely to be your last meeting in this role. To add insult to injury, Toto had not contacted you all day, not even to ask if you’d landed safe or to wish you luck. It was totally unlike him and you couldn’t help but be disappointed in him.

Knocking gently on the door, Pamela’s voice rang out, “Come in.”

“Hi,” you said, surprised to find that it was only Pamela present.

“Hi Y/N, how are you?” the older woman said politely.

“I’m okay thank you, how are you?” you said, battling to make small talk.

“Very well thank you. Now I’m sure you know why you’re here today. The Board were not happy to discover your personal relationship with Toto, especially in the manner that it was revealed. It does not reflect well on both the team or Toto so they have asked me to step in and call this meeting.”

“Wow you got straight to the point Pamela,” you said, not thrilled with her tone.

Ignoring your grumbles, she continued, “They want to conference call to discuss the matter further. Before I dial, is there anything you want me to know or say that will help?”

Softening your expression as after all, it was not Pamela’s fault, you replied, “That’s okay, I will explain everything to them directly.”

“If you’re sure,” said Pamela apprehensively, reaching for the conference phone at her desk.

As the Teams ring rang out you felt sick with nerves. You weren’t expecting to be fighting your case directly with the Board. Steeling yourself, you thought about the achievements that you could reel off, not to mention the additional revenue that you had raised.

“Good afternoon.” came a voice through the speakerphone.

You recognised it as Robert, the chairman. Surprised he would be on this call, you politely replied, “Good afternoon Robert.”

“Hello.” called another voice. It was David, another one of the principal investors. They’d sent in the heavy hitters.

“Hello everyone.” Finally a friendly voice, it was James from the Technical team. He occasionally joined Board meetings.

As more of the upper management joined the call, you were increasingly surprised that Toto wasn’t going to be a part of it. Surely he would want to fight his corner?

“So are we all here?” said Anne, the Company Secretary.

“No, we’re waiting for Toto.” replied Pamela, “He should be here any minute.”

Shocked by this revelation you immediately felt more confident.

“Of course he’s late,” said Robert in a clipped tone.

Right on cue, there was a knock on Pamela’s door. It was none other than Toto, looking red-faced and out of breath as if he’d been running the whole way.

“He’s here,” said Pamela, sensing they were impatient to start.

“Hello everyone,” said Toto, trying to hide the fact he was out of breath. Greetings were murmured through the speaker, merged together as multiple people spoke at once.

“Good afternoon Toto,” said Robert curtly.

“Good afternoon Robert,” replied Toto, equally as shortly.

“So I just want to preface this call with the fact that everything said on here will remain strictly confidential,” said Pamela, taking to the floor. “I’d first like to state that Y/N signed our standard contract, in that employee/employee relationships are strictly forbidden. Toto’s contract is different and does not have this stated anywhere. This does not, however, excuse his transgression and as part of our ethos, we would strongly discourage any abuse of power between an employee and their superior.”

Toto looked livid, having caught his breath he sat bolt upright, shooting daggers at Pamela.

Pamela continued, “Following Saturday’s interview with Sky Sports and Toto, it was revealed that Toto and Y/N have been pursuing a romantic relationship and several members of the Board have raised concerns that this is entirely inappropriate, not to mention a breach of Y/N’s contract. I would like to begin by giving the floor to Robert, who I believe feels especially strongly about this matter.”

“Yes,” came the voice from the speaker, “I was very surprised to learn of this news. For many years Mercedes has worked tirelessly to create a clean-cut professional brand image. Toto has always been exemplary of this and I was shocked, to say the least when our direct competitor brought his recent behaviour up. Y/N is still relatively new to the team and I voiced my concerns during the hiring process that she was too young to be taking on such a Senior role. I believe what has happened is due to this.”

“I…” Toto started before Pamela shushed him.

Robert continued, “In my opinion, the only way forward is for Y/N to discreetly leave her post. I do not want the press catching wind of this and spinning a narrative that is not in line with our brand values.”

“Robert.” started Toto again, before being cut off by David.

“Toto, we will hear from you shortly, but I would like to add that I am surprised you did this, knowing the repercussions. We always laugh at your counterparts at Red Bull and Ferrari but they have never brought a scandal like this upon their team.”

This time James interjected, “Look, guys, I know you’re not thrilled about this but I travel with the team and this is the first time I’ve heard anything about this. Everyone in the garage doesn’t believe it’s true and do we even know for a fact that it is? You all know what Christian Horner is like and this feels like somewhat of an overreaction to a situation we do not fully understand. I think we should let Toto speak.”

You could always count on James to stay level-headed in a tricky situation, there were a few grumbles and Robert piped up, “Sure, I would love to know what he has to say for himself.”

Toto cleared his throat, “Well, I am very disappointed with the way you have approached this. As James said, we all know what Christian Horner is like and he will say anything to make us, especially me, look bad. Normally it is something professional but this time he hit below the belt and made it personal.” He continued, “So to explain exactly what has been happening, I have been pursuing a relationship with Y/N outside of work, however, we have been keeping it very discreet and under wraps and entirely separate from our duties in the workplace.”

“So you are together?” butted in David.

“Yes. We are.” confirmed Toto, looking weary, “I was not aware that Y/N had a line in her contract that expressly forbade a personal relationship as I do not have that within my contract, however, I do not believe that her career should suffer because of her affiliation to me.”

“Well, I’d like to hear Y/N’s side of things.” piped up Robert, “Surely you were aware of this clause in your contract?”

“Hello everyone.” you said shyly, “I have to say, my contract is over thirty pages long and having re-read it over the weekend, the relationship part is a very small line towards the end. When I signed it, I paid it no mind as I did not expect to find love in the workplace.”

“Love?” guffawed Robert, “I know Toto, this is just another fling.”

This time Pamela interjected, “Robert, may I ask that you remain professional and listen to what Y/N has to say.”

Smiling at the older woman, you continued, “Yes love, Robert. When we began our relationship, we agreed that we keep personal and professional entirely separate so as not to disrupt our work and I have to say I think we have managed to do so successfully.”

“So I have one question,” interrupted James, “How long has this been going on?”

“A little over a year,” said Toto.

Your eyebrows shot up, yes Baku had been over a year ago but strictly Montreal was only six weeks ago.

Murmurs followed once again before James spoke, “Wow. Okay, so I would like to say that I do believe they kept things separate as I sit immediately next to them for hours at a time every weekend, spend countless hours in debriefings and meetings and travel on the jet and had no idea. I knew that they were firm friends but had no inkling of a romantic relationship”

“But this does not answer how Christian Horner came to discover the relationship?” asked David indignantly.

“I have my suspicions on that,” said Toto cryptically. “He is always digging for dirt and I suppose this time he couldn’t wait to spill.”

“Well, I for one, still believe that the right thing to do is to excuse Y/N from her post, no questions asked and we find a new Director of Communications,” said Robert, unmoved by anything he’d heard.

Annoyed that this man was so stubborn, you could no longer contain yourself. “Look, Robert, I understand I have breached my contract but I would urge you to think about what I have brought to the team. I have increased sponsorship revenue by 40% in one year and entertained new sponsors who have brought priceless good press to our team, as opposed to the dinosaurs we had before. I have convinced partners to stay who were all but ready to jump ship for a rival team when times were tough and I’ve grown our Comms team considerably, giving us additional media opportunities that we never would have explored previously.”

Toto turned to face you, glowing with pride. Even Pamela looked suitably impressed with your spiel.

Silence followed for a few seconds before Robert replied, “I understand this, but it doesn’t change that you fundamentally broke your contract and there has to be consequences. It’s all very well throwing out these numbers but you’ve undone years of hard work in one swoop.”

‘Robert.” stated Toto very succinctly, “Frankly, if you want Y/N to go, I will go with her.”

You were floored, Toto would leave his role for you?

His admission was met with deathly silence before David spoke. “Now Toto, don’t be so dramatic. I know you wouldn’t do that.”

“I will,” said Toto stubbornly. “I run this team and I know that Y/N is the best Director of Communications we’ve ever had. It would be stupidity to let her go. And I say this from a purely professional standpoint”

More silence followed before Robert replied. “Look, let us discuss this further. For now, I would recommend that Y/N takes a temporary leave of absence and waits for this to blow over.”

“Fine,” clapped back Toto, “Then I will take a leave of absence. Good luck.”

Pamela’s face beside you was one of pure shock.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” replied Robert.

“Then we both stay,” replied Toto bluntly. “We will continue to be discreet and laugh off any comments from rivals.”

“Fine.” said Robert, “But if I catch wind of anything affecting the team performance she goes.”

You gulped, not liking the way he was referring to you.

Pamela piped up, “From a Human Resources point of view, we cannot decide things like that in this manner. In my opinion, what we do is we draft another contract for Y/N that she can sign and we can put some stipulations in if need be.”

Thankful for the older woman’s expertise, you nodded in agreement.

“Fine.” said Robert, “Well let’s wrap this up, we’ve wasted enough time this afternoon. Speak soon.”

Goodbyes were murmured in response before Pamela rang off the call.

“Well, that was interesting.” she said, “So you two? I wouldn’t have guessed either.”

You smiled, “Thank you, Pamela, sorry about all of that.”

Toto stood up from beside you, “Yes thank you, Pamela, they are a nightmare.”

“You’re more than welcome,” replied Pamela, offering you both a warm smile, “But I don’t want to hear of any office hanky panky yes?”

You giggled, “Believe me after all of this, that is the last place I want to be doing anything.”

“And it might be tricky with our glass walls.” joked Toto.

“Indeed,” said Pamela waving you out of her office.

“Well, do you want to get a tea?” asked Toto, putting his hands awkwardly in his pockets as he strolled down the corridor beside you.

“Sure,” you said, aware you still had much to discuss.

———

As you both had a relatively free afternoon, you decided to pop out of the factory for your tea. It was a nice day and you had more privacy wandering along the river bank than you did in Toto’s goldfish bowl of an office.

“Toto, there's one thing I don't understand. Why did you say we were together for a year?” you asked.

“Well, six weeks sounded silly and we technically did begin our romance then,” Toto said bashfully. "I liked you from the get-go but when we kissed in Baku, everything changed."

“That’s very schoolboy of you. You know I think I fell for you in Monaco. I know nothing happened but you looked so handsome at that yacht dinner party, I would have had you right there if I could have,” you laughed, turning towards Toto, “Thank you for coming all the way back, I didn’t expect it.”

“Monaco, really? You looked beautiful that night too, " Toto beamed, "And why would I not come back? I had to go to Monaco for a meeting with a supplier and got on the first flight out of Nice this morning.

“Oh.” you said, surprised he took a commercial flight, “I see.”

“Is everything okay with us Y/N?” Toto suddenly asked, concerned.

“Yeah.” you said, “Sorry, I just feel kind of stupid, I felt like a kid being told off at school.”

“Me too,” said Toto.

“You did?” you asked.

“Of course, it’s worse for me in a way. Everyone thinks I’m some old perv.”

“You know when I call you an old perv it’s a joke right?” you replied.

Toto smiled, his kind brown eyes crinkling, “You know what I mean. You could hear the shock even in James’ voice.”

“I don’t think he thinks you’re an old perv. I think he probably feels stupid that he didn’t notice.”

“Maybe.” said Toto, stopping in his tracks, “Hey, I guess we all have our stupid moments.”

“Indeed we do.” you said, looking up at the tall man before you, “I’m glad we were stupid though.”

“Me too,” said Toto, quickly checking you were alone before bending down to kiss you.

Unfortunately, however, you weren't quite alone as a pair of all too familiar eyes were watching you from behind a bush a little way along the river. Nor did you hear the click of the camera shutter, capturing your intimate moment in a freeze frame image.

#formula one x reader #toto wolff fanfic #f1 x reader #onceuponatimein...

90 notes · View notes

art-of-firefly · 1 year ago

Note

Bingo for akamomo because I've seen it around a lot recently and it baffles me and I want more perspective. :D

Ok, I'm so glad you asked because I have a LOT of thoughts on this one! At first glance it sound like a crackship, but somehow it makes a lot of sense ? If we only take into account the main story, it doesn't shows much but the light novel and its adaptation make it so much more interesting.

First of all, they are both very smart, the two most intellectual characters in the GOM. At Teiko, Akashi was probably the only one Momoi could have deep and interesting conversation with. It must have been really refreshing for both of them. Midorima is nice and all, but his perpetual need to beat Akashi at something (Shogi, school grades, etc.) must be exhausting at times. With Momoi he could have fully genuine conversation.

In the Replace novel (and it's manga adaptation) Momoi is completely starstruck by Akashi, it's emphasized by the fact that most of the Teiko Era chapters are in her pdv. Every single time Akashi appears or is mentioned she think about how impressive and smart he is (it's really adorable). She has a blind trust in him and his decisions, but despite how highly she thinks of him she always acts normally around him.

Akashi helped her out multiple times, he is very caring and thoughtful towards her, making sure she'll get to play with fireworks with them after their passage at the commissariat, including her when the GOM plays together, helping her find the lipstick her mom want (and those are just the first three examples that came to my mind, the novel are full of them) Which, i concede, the real Akashi is that way toward everyone, but Momoi is usually the one who takes care of others, so this is the only relationship she has where it feels like it goes both ways. Although rare, when Akashi needs help with something, it is shown several times that she is the one he goes to.

Something the fandom seems to completely forget: it was Akashi who discovered Momoi's abilities. It's thanks to his trust that Momoi was able to truly become a player in her own right instead of just being part of the club because Aomine joined. He is the one who shows the most respect for her abilities (who are in my opinion among the most broken in the GOM). He truly thinks highly of her and he praise her several times for it, whether she is here or not. And finally, they were the two most desperate to keep the team together when everything goes to shit. Both of them are shown very lonely before the team becomes real friends and this is their first experience with a group of close friends. Losing that broke them both in different ways. (yes, other things played a role, but it was a very important factor.) Their friends are the most important part of their lives for both of them. Kuroko's focus was on basketball and his drive to show them how their way of thinking was wrong regarding basketball.

I'm really sorry for the length, I underestimated how much I like this ship. It's not my favorite ship for either of them, but it's probably my second fave for both. I don't think they would ever date, but if they did, they would be the most perfect, healthiest, cutest couple ever. (And the GOM would be bound to stay friend forever thanks to their combined effort and scheming, perfect)

#I probably forgot a few things #but it's already long enough as it is...#akamomo #akashi seijuro #momoi satsuki #they both deserves the best #me : i don't care about ships #also me when i receive my first ask : let me write an essay about them really quick #knb

33 notes · View notes

atomictyphoonkitten · 1 month ago

Text

Charlie Weasley and the utterly complicated matters of the heart - Part 2

a/n: Welcome, this is my very first fanfiction, like ever. I think there is not enough Charlie Weasley fanfiction out there, so I thought I'll take the matter into my hands. It will be long and slow-burning (I warned you!). My native languge is not English, so sorry if you see anything weird.

warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of past traumas

word count: 2400+

Chapter directory: here

Part 2: The one where she offers a beer

Charlie had paced the length of his cabin at least six times since the sun dipped below the horizon on the next evening, after he managed to survive the day sanely somehow. It was quiet outside, the stillness broken only by distant dragon roars and the rustling of trees in the warm breeze. Most of the time he welcomed the solitude here; it was one of the things that had drawn him to the sanctuary in the first place. But tonight, it felt…different. Restless.

He’d told himself it was because of the newcomer, that it was normal to want to check in, make sure everything was going smoothly for someone who’d just arrived. Especially when he was such a dork the day before and managed to stumble over every single one of the three sentences that finally made it past his lips. And he even forgot to introduce himself. Great, just great. Yet even as he hesitantly reached the door, he could feel the weak excuses weighing on him. She’s fine, he thought. I am just overthinking it.

But another part of him, more persistent than he would have liked, kept nudging him. There was something about you that had stirred his curiosity. You were like a book with a hidden cover, something both guarded and raw that he felt drawn to. Finally, despite his better judgment, he grabbed an old hammer from the shelf, one he’d hardly ever used, which would make a terrible excuse but was better than nothing, and headed towards your cottage.

The air was warm as he approached, the glow from your cottage casting a welcoming light across the pathway. He swallowed, feeling a strange tightening in his chest, and knocked lightly on the door.

After some moments, you opened it, looking surprised but not displeased to see him standing there, hammer in hand.

“Hey,” he said, suddenly feeling foolish. “I, uh… thought I’d check in. Wanted to make sure everything was working alright here. Sometimes the… the shutters, you know, they stick. Oh, and I am Charlie, by the way” He winced inwardly, realizing just how ridiculous he sounded.

You looked at the hammer and then back at him, a small smile forming. “The shutters are fine,” you said, amusement in your voice. “But come on in. I was just getting settled, after packing all day. And my name is Y/N.”

He nodded gratefully, feeling the warmth of the room as he stepped inside. The cottage was simple but cozy, just like his, and he already noticed a few scattered personal items: many books still in boxes, your worn leather jacket slung over a chair, a mug with cat ears left on the table: these gave the space a faint but unmistakable sense of home. He wondered, not for the first time, about the life you’d left behind.

Then he noticed the small cluster of beer bottles on the kitchen counter, and he forced himself to look away, not wanting to appear too interested in your personal habits. “Nice place,” he said, nodding as if he were appraising the walls, though his eyes kept drifting back to you. Why the hell can’t I keep up a normal conversation like a normal person, he cringed silently.

You, with a slight, knowing grin, gestured to the beers. “Interested in a drink, Charlie? They’re cold, and I could use the company if you’re sticking around.”

He hesitated, torn between the polite thing to do and the desire to stay. The polite thing would have been to leave, let you settle in, and not make this into something more awkward than it was already. But he found himself nodding, a little too quickly. “Sure. Yeah, that’d be great.”

You handed him a beer, your fingers brushing his slightly, and he felt a small jolt, though he tried not to show it. He glanced at the label, chuckling softly. “Imported stuff? Fancy for these parts. Most of us just go with whatever they bring in from the local pub.”

“I figured I’d treat myself,” you replied, taking a seat outside, on the top step of the stairs at the porch and gesturing for him to join you.

He sat down next to you, trying to ignore the rapid beat of his heart as he took a sip of the beer. Silence fell between you, and Charlie felt the urge to fill it, despite his usual preference for quiet. “So, uh, the bike,” he started, unsure where he was going with it. “Looks pretty… sturdy. Good choice for the hills here. You ride often?”

You nodded, smiling as if you knew he was reaching for something - anything to say. “I do. It’s the best way to clear my mind, I think. Nothing like a few hours on the open road to help you forget.”

He took another sip, feeling the weight of those words. The way you said it… with a kind of haunted edge, it made his chest tighten. He wanted to ask, to know what you were trying to forget, but he held back.

Instead, he found himself talking, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “Yeah, I get that. I think that’s why I ended up here, actually. This place… it has a way of giving you distance, letting you… restart.”

You looked at him, your eyes thoughtful, and he felt himself start to ramble, the usual steadiness in his voice faltering. “I mean, it’s not that I was running from anything, not exactly. Just, you know, needed a break from people, from… expectations. They’re always there, you know? Family, friends… everyone wants you to be a certain way, fit into their molds. And I just… I just couldn’t.”

He stopped, realizing he’d shared too much. Normally, he didn’t talk like this, certainly not to people he barely met. But there was something about you, the way you were watching him, patient and understanding, that made him feel like he could open up, even though it terrified him.

You tilted your head slightly, the hint of a smile on your lips. “So you ran away to live with dragons? That’s definitely one way to break free from expectations.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess it sounds a bit dramatic when you put it like that.” His face warmed, and he hoped you couldn’t see the slight flush creeping up his cheeks. He wasn’t used to feeling so self-conscious, especially not over something as simple as his choice of career. But he couldn’t shake the thought that you might be laughing at him, though your expression was far from mocking.

“Hey, I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” you said, your voice softening. “I think it’s… admirable, actually. Choosing what you really want and making a life out of it. Not many people have the guts to do that.”

He looked at you, a mix of surprise and something else he couldn’t quite name flickering in his eyes. No one had ever put it that way before. Most people saw his life here as an escape, a refusal to grow up or settle down. But you seemed to judge it differently, and it threw him off balance.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, taking another long sip of his beer, hoping it would calm the slight tremor in his hands. He noticed the way you were watching him, and for a second, he wondered if you could tell how nervous he felt, how uncharacteristically anxious he was.

“You don’t talk much about yourself, do you?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He chuckled, a bit too loudly, then tried to cover it with a casual shrug. “No, I, uh… I guess I’m not much of a talker.” He paused, then felt the need to add, “At least, not usually. You, uh… you’re just easy to talk to.” The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Fuck, what am I doing again.

Your eyebrows raised slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Am I?”

He nodded, feeling the heat in his cheeks intensify. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t usually go around… rambling. It’s just, uh, I guess you make it… comfortable.” He rubbed his neck again, avoiding your gaze. “I don’t really know why.”

The air between you felt charged, and he didn’t know how to handle it. A reckless part of him wanted to lean closer, to see if you’d let him cross that line, and the other part was practically screaming at him to pull back, to keep things simple and professional.

Sensing his inner battle, you offered him a warm smile.

He felt a mixture of relief and embarrassment, but also something else—a tiny piece of hope that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t made a complete fool of himself. The silence stretched out between you, somehow comfortable yet electric, and he wondered if you felt it too.

And as he finished his beer, Charlie found himself feeling strangely content, as though just being here, beside you, was exactly where he was meant to be. He stole a glance in your direction and noticed the way your face softened in the low light, a warmth in your eyes that sent a shiver of both excitement and anxiety through him. He’d never felt so out of his depth, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

You didn’t seem in any hurry to end the evening either. Your fingers traced circles around the rim of your own bottle, your gaze thoughtful. He wondered what was running through your mind, if maybe you’d been hurt before, if that quiet sadness he’d sensed earlier was a wound you kept carefully hidden. He wanted to ask but didn’t want to pry, unsure if he even had the right.

Finally, you broke the silence. “So, what is your favorite thing here?” you asked, your tone gentle but curious.

Charlie hesitated, his usual barriers faltering under your steady gaze. “It’s… hard to explain,” he said, his voice softer than he intended. “I guess it’s just this place itself, with these amazing creatures, it’s like they need someone who sees them, really sees them for what they are.” He paused, glancing away. “I know it sounds strange. But the dragons, they don’t judge or expect things of you. They just… are. And for someone like me, that’s enough.”

You listened without interrupting, a slight nod encouraging him to go on. And so he did, letting his words tumble out, feeling more vulnerable than he had in years.

“I guess I’ve always felt… different, you know? A bit on the outside of things.” He swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. “My family, they’re wonderful, but they’re so… close, so tied to each other’s lives. I love them, I do. But I needed… space. And this place, it gives me that.” He gave a nervous laugh. “Guess that makes me sound like a bit of a loner.”

You smiled, and the warmth in your eyes eased his self-consciousness. “I don’t think it’s strange at all. Some of us need to get away to find out who we really are. And some of us just need space, yeah.” It was as though you’d just described his own heart.

Charlie took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his own words settle between you both. He’d never expected to talk about these things with anyone, let alone a near stranger. But somehow, with you, it felt right. But the question lingered at the back of his mind: was this just the comfort of a shared beer and a quiet night, or was there something more? He thought he saw it in your eyes, the way you held his gaze a little longer than necessary, the subtle flicker of interest that made his heart race. But he couldn’t be sure.

Eventually, the clock on the wall reminded him of the late hour, and he realized he’d stayed far longer than he’d intended. He took a deep breath, reluctantly setting his empty bottle next to him. “I should probably let you get some rest,” he said, his voice soft, almost regretful.

You nodded, but there was a glimmer of something - disappointment? - in your eyes, and he felt a pang of both relief and longing. As you both got to your feet, he fumbled for words, searching for something that would leave the door open, something to hint that he wanted maybe to see you again without making a complete fool of himself.

“Thanks… for the beer,” he said, feeling the inadequacy of the words even as he spoke them. He scratched the back of his neck, glancing away. “I, uh… I’m glad you’re here. You know, at the sanctuary.”

You smiled, and in that moment, he felt his pulse quicken, his earlier nerves flaring up again. “Thank you, Charlie... I am glad too” you replied, your voice soft and sincere.

The silence between you grew a bit heavier. For a brief, reckless moment, he considered leaning in, bridging that last bit of space between you. But then his nerves kicked in, reminding him of how out of character this whole night had been, how utterly foolish he’d look if he’d misread the signs.

So instead, he only gave you a small, shy smile. “Well, goodnight, then,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Goodnight, Charlie,” you replied, your gaze lingering on him in a way that made him wonder if you were just as hesitant, just as uncertain about whatever was happening between you.

He walked out into the night, the warmth of your proximity fading behind him, but he couldn’t shake the memory of the evening, the soft look in your eyes. As he made his way back to his own cabin, he tried to brush it off, to tell himself that it was just a friendly conversation, nothing more. But as he lay in bed, sleep wouldn’t come.

Your voice, your smile, that look in your eyes, they haunted him, a quiet, persistent whisper in the back of his mind. He didn’t know what it meant or what he was supposed to do about it, but one thing was clear: tonight had changed something, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t pretend otherwise.

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley fanfic #mc x charlie weasley #charlie weasley x you

5 notes · View notes

jackoshadows · 1 year ago

Note

I do remember that GRRM said he wants the books to have a bittersweet ending like Lord of the Rings. Okay Lord of the Rings… the only Fellowship member who died was Boromir. The reason the ending was bittersweet was because sweet: Sauron was finally defeated for good, Aragorn became King like he was born to be, the Hobbits were recognized as heroes of Middle Earth, peace was restored. But bitter: Frodo’s wound never fully healed, the Fellowship was ended and they went their separate ways, Frodo and Gandalf and Bilbo and the Elves all leave Middle Earth never to return (man Gandalf saying goodbye always makes me cry). Perfect bittersweet. Which makes me think… GRRM won’t have any of the Key Five die (Dany, Jon, Arya, Bran, and Tyrion). Sweet: They will become the heroes of the Realm as the ones who played a huge part in destroying the Others. And they’ll survive and be able to live good lives. But bitter because they’re gonna have trauma to deal with forever, many of the people they knew died, and it will be a LONG time before Westeros and Essos are back to normal. I do not know if Jon and Dany will become King and Queen like I want but that would be part of the sweet. Still if they all survive, the Key Five, that’s really all I need. And I know Jonsas won’t be stopping with their bs but I would take immense pleasure knowing that they were wrong and their dumb theories were all proven false

@whitedragonwolf4961 Sorry for replying to your ask after a looooong time!

So yeah, I personally think that the key 5 will survive. I base this off the story so far in five books and also on GRRM's leaked 1993 original outline for the story, considering he has always insisted that he is heading towards his 1991 ending.

In the leaked outline, all of the key five survive. GRRM admits to using main characters like Ned, Robb and Catelyn to get the readers thinking that anyone can die while there's a set of characters - the key 5 - who will make it through all of the OG trilogy.

And yes, what would make it bittersweet would be the deaths of loved ones, friends and family, the large scale destruction that they would need to rebuild, their ongoing trauma - they have all gone through so much in these 5 books - the sacrifices they would need to make, the compromises. In that sense it's not going to be wholly happy - they are not going to come out in the end unscathed. Jon Snow has even died and we don't even know what version is coming back!!

And remember, reform and change is a major aspect of these characters:

Five central characters will make it through all three volumes, however, growing from children to adults and CHANGING THE WORLD and themselves in the process. In a sense, my trilogy is almost a generational saga, telling the life stories of these five characters, three men and two women. The five key players are Tyrion Lannister, Daenerys Targaryen, and three of the children of Winterfell, Arya, Bran, and the bastard Jon Snow. All of them are introduced at some length in the chapters you have to hand.

The Key 5 have big political arcs, are involved in major events and are proactively in control of their own subplots in the books. The youngsters in particular - Dany, Jon, Arya and Bran - are angry about injustice and want to change how things are always done. Dany and Jon have big leadership arcs which are particularly about reforming city states and institutions. Arya's arc with the smallfolk is about her connection with them and the injustice they are facing. As Prince of Winterfell, Bran's empathy for his bastard brother Jon Snow means he signals that Lord Hornwood's bastard can be heir to the Hornwood lands.

I think that's the difference between the previous generation and the current one is that now our main characters don't look past terrible stuff happening and justify it in the name of 'I didn't know' while looking the other way or 'The oaths make it so I should let bad things happen' or 'This is how it's always been so let it happen'. They look past class and gender barriers and do things differently.

And after the Long Night, is when major reform and rebuilding needs to happen. Westeros needs leaders who are angry about what the smallfolk are experiencing, who put the people first, who have the leadership experience to rebuild and reform, in administration and politics and diplomacy, who can build bridges and enact laws - and GRRM has written all that for the key 5.

If they die at the end, then what's the point? So yes, they are very much surviving - in some form or other - though I suspect there will be a lot of sacrifice and compromise that will indeed be very bitter, precisely because good leaders/rulers care about the realm.

#ask

22 notes · View notes

muninnhuginn · 8 months ago

Note

for the ask game, spy x family 🕶💣

Sorry for the delay! I got ambushed by rl and then ambushed myself for several more days and-- anyway, I had to put this under the cut because it got long. Thanks for asking!

my favorite female character

yor yor yor. I like her for a few reasons, but I think the main thing is just generally her main emotional arc thus far. how she wants to 'belong' but how she also needs to 'fit in' and how it also circles around the idea of normality. she thinks she wants to be normal when what she wants is to be accepted. and she knows she needs to be *seen* as normal for safety reasons (sth sth societal commentary even outside of the cold war backdrop) but she doesn't understand *how*. what does it mean to be a mother and to be a wife and what aspects of that does she want to fulfill for herself and which is she just doing because it's part of her cover.

she has all these needs and wants and hasn't yet figured out how to even begin untangling them. and despite that, she's still one of the most emotionally intelligent characters in the series.

my favorite male character

loid. he's the obvious option but still. I always tend to appreciate the anxious types and whilst technically all of the main three have their own little anxiety spirals, loid's way of overcomplicating things is my favourite. he's a very intriguing mix of anxiety, denial, and competence.

I am very much enjoying the length of time it's taking to wear him down. we only got full confirmation he's actively compromised as of the mole arc which is super recent but for me the pacing is just right. he has to earn that character development and be dragged through kicking and screaming.

my favorite book/season/etc

volume 10 (starts with [redacted] arc and has some good handler moments (though I *think* my favourite handler chapter is later on))

my favorite episode (if its a tv show)

genuinely not sure. I do think the very first episode has a really good mix of comedy and earnestness with a hint of the underlying tragedy in growing up during wartime. it spells out everything to expect down the line in a very nicely balanced way

my favorite cast member

I... don't know? I think for Yor's VA this is my favourite role of hers whilst Anya's VA I prefer most as Frieren but like. IDK tbh. Can I skip?

my favorite ship

Not super into shipping in this fandom, but overall, I'd say twiyor. the fact that it's a 'fake' relationship but they enter into it on honest enough terms that they actually make something really healthy for both of them out of it. they each mutually get something out of it too.

yor wants to be useful. she's grown up providing for yuri and now he's gone all she has left is her job, but this 'relationship' and her new family give her the opportunity to *do* something. to defend and protect her people. and to give her someone to confide in, where she's never had that before.

for twilight, he's always been planning and preparing for all possibilities. always acting, never letting anyone see what's beneath, until he had forgotten even himself. one of my fave twiyor moments was in the recent chapter where twilight gets home and immediately his legs give out, because he feels *safe*. he's let his guard down with yor and even if he's worried about being compromised, he let it down because he trusts in her character. the remedy for someone so full of masks is someone devoid of them, and for all that yor is the thorn princess, she has never faked *who* she is.

and tying back to what I was saying about yor and normality before. the fact that loid knows what it's like to pretend means that he's in the position to tell yor that she's good as she is. she doesn't *need* to fake her whole personality to fit in. sure, they both have their covers, but for the large part, what's beneath is genuine.

a character I’d die defending

I think nightfall's character may not be as developed as most people would like at this stage, but the way she's written is very deliberate. she's a compare/contrast with yuri (and also to some extent, with twilight) and she shows how love and obsession intertwine. how *obsession* can be dangerous. the mole arc to me is waving a big red flag above nightfall's head and saying that if she doesn't change something, if she keeps metaphorically diving headfirst in front of twilight, then she's going to end up the one riddled with bullets.

a character I just can’t sympathize with

not that we're likely supposed to but donovan desmond

a character I grew to love

handler! it's not that I ever disliked her as such, but for a long time she just seemed a kind of girlboss-esque character with a neat character design. she had her moments (bond arc speech and also propaganda chapter my beloved), but it wasn't until we had her focus chapter where we followed her day that I was like "oh." Like, I knew that she'd lost her family, but I was falling for the facade that she was on top of everything. And the realisation that she wasn't? That she was deep in depression, but you know who might dig her out of it? Her pet dog and a little girl. Definitely got to me.

my anti otp

anti otp is a bit strong a feeling for it, but I think the way I read damianya differs from a decent chunk of the fandom. I tend to see it as one-sided and am perfectly happy for it to stay that way or for them to just end up becoming better friends down the line, but I know what I'm against here so I'm not going to place any bets.

#asks #ask meme #pinkie-satan #spy x family #sxf manga spoilers

8 notes · View notes

readingwiththereids · 1 year ago

Text

yanda! speaks: hello my loves! i’m so sorry that it took so long for this chapter to come out, i realised that i just really hated my outlines for the next three chapters and decided to scrap everything and change it lol. but nonetheless, it’s here now and i hope you like it! don't forget to like and reblog! lots of love and light! 🤎

masterlist

notes: i pictured blake as grant show from dynasty but imagine whoever you want :)

night rain ; chapter 6

2022

The wind ruffled the fabric of her dress as she climbed out of the limousine and stared up at Carmen’s apartment building. His figure stalked out of the door in a crisp, all-black suit before stopping in the middle of the doorway once he finally looked at her. Camila looked beautiful, devastatingly at that. The setting sun illuminated her skin perfectly, making her look similar to some type of fairy-like being. Carmy thought that the dress she wore fit her gorgeously and took note of how the slit of it ran all the way up her alluring, bronze legs. Her smile glowed the same as a million suns as she took him in too, looking him up and down.

“You look…” he trailed off, in shock.

“You look handsome too, Carm.” Camila giggled back before beckoning him over to the vehicle behind her and getting in.

Carmen followed apprehensively before shutting the car door as he got in.

“This is Mel, he’ll be our driver tonight.”

“Hello, Mr Berzatto,” an old man quipped from the front seat.

“Cut the crap, Melman.” Camila said, rolling her eyes.

“You’re a pain in the ass, Ms Ivy.”

Bewilderedly watching the exchange between the chauffeur and the woman to his right, Carmy spoke up.

“Do you normally get to places in a limo?”

“No, of course not. My boss just insists on it any time that there’s a semi-special event going on.” she laughed.

“It’s because he’s in love with her.” Mel cut in from the front as he made a turn.

“He?” Carmy looked at Camila.

“That’s not true!” she exclaimed, avoiding eye contact with him.

As the car then slowed to a red light, Melman turned to look at Carmen with a mischievous smile on his face.

“Trust me, every single employee at La Fame knows that it’s true. Even the drivers.”

As Carmy opened his mouth to say something, which probably would have been entirely reckless as a mix of frustration and jealousy had started to bubble in his chest, Camila interrupted the two men’s conversation.

“Can we please just listen to some music?”

Mel smirked from the front, “Yes, Ms Ivy.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

^^^^^^^^^

Just as Carmen was helping Camila out of the car, a small red-headed woman in a sapphire knee-length dress and black heels, briskly walked up to the pair carrying a clipboard.

“Cam, I made sure that they brought over your cakes in one of those refrigerated trucks but when I checked one of the boxes, I saw that three were missing and that the delivery guy had crumbs all over his face. So I fired him.”

“Noelle! Why would you do that?”

“I just explained why, did you not hear?”

“I heard you but that’s not-”

“Hey, you!” Noelle shouted at one of the workers setting up the venue before striding towards them. “That doesn’t go there!”

“That’s my assistant, Noelle. She’s a little intense right now but I promise she’ll be a pleasure to be around in a couple of hours.” Camila whispered in Carmen’s ear, her warm breath and tone sending goosebumps up his spine.

“Okay! I’m back,” the shorter woman returned. “Oh! Oh. You must be Carm.”

“You and Mel are seriously getting on my nerves tonight. I swear to God-”

“Melman drove you? What fun.” she laughed before turning to Carmy as he introduced himself properly.

“Yeah. Uh, yes. I’m Carmen, nice to meet you.” He stuttered, shaking her hand.

“He’s cute,” she whispered to Camila before turning around and walking into the venue, signalling for the pair to follow before continuing to speak.

“Jess said that you’re overseeing the caterers tonight but it shouldn’t be anything hectic. We’ve used them before and they’re pretty professional, all you need to do is check in with them every couple of hours.”

“Can I go chat with them now?” Cam asked.

“Of course. Also for your peace of mind, Blake isn’t here yet.”

“Who’s Blake?” Carmy finally spoke up from a few steps behind the pair.

“Her stalk-” Noelle started before noticing the pointed look that her superior was giving her. “Her boss. Come on, the kitchen is this way.”

^^^^^^^^^

“And so, I just wanted to say how much we really appreciate you all being here. Not that you had a choice, but even as an outsider, I know first-hand how difficult your job is so thank you for working with us this evening. If you need anything at all, do not hesitate to come find me.” Camila finished as the workers of the catering company clapped and got back to work.

“Alright, a bunch of the guests just pulled in. You two ready?” Noelle asked the pair.

“Never better.” Carmen breathed anxiously as they walked into the gala hall, packed with dozens of guests that immediately turned their attention to Cam and her unknown date.

The slight shake in his hands and the pickup in his breathing must have alerted the brown-skinned woman because she immediately moved to come to his side and slid her arm through his.

“You alright, Bear?”

Carmy chose not to point out the use of the nickname, instead opting to nod his head as Noelle led them towards the crowd.

^^^^^^^^^

Camila was in her element. Swift and elegant as she moved from group to group, the same was said about her ability to shift from each conversation. Carmen noticed as each person always became entranced by her as soon as she entered their view, everyone suddenly became so willing to open up to her and keep the conversation going that they ended up telling her secrets they hadn’t anticipated telling a single soul. She had always had that magnetically welcoming quality to her. It was one of his favourite things about her, that she was always able to get anything out of him and even when she couldn’t, she already knew. Without words, she could already anticipate and be ready to comfort every one of his emotions and feelings before he even realised that he had them. It was also one of the things that he missed most about her. Since her sudden absence in his life, Carmy found it even more difficult to express himself to anyone else. Hell, he even had a hard time understanding himself without her to guide him through it. She was one of his greatest comforts and it was because of her that he knew he was capable of functioning internally in such an orderly way. But at the same time, in a way, she had ruined him.

“Oh, my God! Camila, you are always such a joy to talk to.” A blonde woman by the name of Jessica laughed.

“By the way, Blake’s asking everyone if they’ve seen you,” she added, wiggling her brows at the younger woman.

“Oh, really?” Cam awkwardly laughed before seeing said man, walking towards her from across the hall.

Turning to Noelle and Carmy behind her who had been simply spectating her extraordinary interactions with the guests in attendance, she whispered, “mátame ahora.” [kill me now.]

“Hun, you know I have no idea what you’re saying right now,” Noelle mumbled, turning the girl back in the direction of the older man who now stood before her.

From where Carmy was standing, he could barely hear Camila’s conversation with Blake but after they exchanged what seemed to be pleasantries, Blake made a little bit of a show while kissing her hand. Carmen could have sworn that he made eye contact with the man as he did it but maybe he was just imagining it. Nevertheless, it still pissed him off, which he thought could be easily pointed out by his clenched jaw had anyone been looking. Coincidentally, Noelle had been looking his way right at that moment.

“Hey. Don’t even worry about him,” she started before looking back at the two still speaking in front of them. “Unfortunately, it’s just part of the job.”

Just then, Camila turned back to the pair with wide eyes, waving them (particularly Carmy) over.

“Carm, darling. I’d like you to meet my boss, Blake.”

“Oh, no, don’t call me that. No such thing as ‘ranks’ here. We’re just one big happy family.” Blake laughed while reaching for Carmen’s hand.

“And yet, I haven’t gotten a raise in 2 years and you still call me Nina.” Noelle mumbled under her breath behind them, prompting him to stifle a laugh before speaking.

“Carmen, sir. Nice to meet you.”

“Baby, I was just about to tell Blake here about how we might have to leave early.”

When the curly-haired boy only looked back at her with confusion, Camila continued.

“We have an early morning tomorrow. We’re taking a drive up to Lake Michigan for the weekend, just a little getaway.

This caused Blake’s face to drop.

“Oh. A couple’s getaway, that is?”

Finally, Carmy caught on, rushing to answer to not force Cam to speak to this man much longer.

“Yes. We’re celebrating our anniversary.”

“Wow,” the older man chuckled bitterly through gritted teeth. “Sounds great. How long have you two been-”

Thankfully, one of the catering staff interrupted the conversation to let Camila know that two of their stagiaires had disappeared from the kitchen and now there was no one to prep the onions for the appetiser. Humbly, and also looking for any excuse to leave, Cam and Carm offered their services. And so now, here they were. Sat side by side, on crates in the corner of the scullery, peeling onions by hand and dropping them into a container that rested at their feet.

“I feel like I haven’t done this in decades.” Carmen chuckled as he dropped a freshly peeled one into the container. His jacket was long forgotten, his top button undone and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His curls fell into his eyes as his skilled, inked hands worked on the husk of another. Even in such a dishevelled and humbling circumstance, he still looked breathtaking.

“I doubt decades, but yeah. It takes you back.” Camila agreed as she threw another layer into the makeshift pile next to her. Respectively, her heels stood carelessly in the corner next to Carmy, her hair had been messily unclipped and her jewellery sat in the darkness of her purse. Had you asked the boy next to her, however, he would have said that she’d never looked more perfect. Granted, he used to say the same thing when she was leaking mucus and phlegm cause she had the flu, so no one could really say how true that statement was.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about what I did back there. Blake was really laying in on suggesting that I spend the weekend going over strategy with him at his house in Aspen and I, uh, I just needed a way out of it. But thank you for going along with it, so much.”

“Of course, Cam. I’d do anything for you,” that had come out slightly more romantic than he intended, so Carmen continued. “Can I ask why you put up with it though? From what I’ve heard tonight, it sounds like it’s pretty much an everyday occurrence.”

A beat.

From the deep breath that she took, he feared that he might have offended her before she finally muttered, “I don’t know. I think I just, I just like it here? I mean, I love my job. I love that I get to be part of giving shine to small chefs who are just like I was, just trying to get some type of recognition. I even love doing shit like this stupid gala because I know it keeps everyone motivated to do this job. Also, it’s already so hard for women to get this far in this field, especially at this age. I mean, I know that everyone just thinks I slept my way to an executive position, that there’s lists that go around the office about who’s most ‘smashable’ and that I’ve been top 3 for almost three years straight.”

“But I also know how many girls feel inspired that I’ve gotten this far,” she continued. “That they have someone in their corner when Blake doesn’t want to make another woman ‘Chef of the Moment’ two months in a row because he ‘doesn’t want them to get a big head’. I know that they count on me to be their voice and as much as I might hate the things that come with it, I have to keep going.”

Carmy had no idea what to say, how to express how deeply he understood and empathised with her words. So he said the only word that he knew would get the point, at least partly, across.

“Heard.”

However, this only forced a giggle to bubble out of Camila as she looked at him with shock.

“Heard? I just poured my deepest thoughts out to you and you said ‘heard’?”

She was laughing harder now, clutching onto his bicep to stay upright. Carmen felt bad and didn’t think it was entirely that funny but her smile was contagious, as was her laugh and so he began to chuckle too. The pair looked insane, giggling their asses off as they sat in a dimmed corner of the event hall’s kitchen, surrounded by the husks of onions. But they didn’t care, because for a second it felt like the old them and they would do anything to feel that again.

Finally, they came down.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Carmy halfheartedly chuckled. “I, uh, what I meant to say is that I’m proud of you. As much as it might suck, I always knew that you’d end up doing big things one day and now you are, so I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The girl quickly made a move to hug him before he could avoid it, enveloping her arms around his shoulders. Hesitantly, he returned it before settling into the familiar warmth of her embrace.

“I’m really proud of you too, Carm. I hope you know that. After everything that you’ve gone through, that you’ve achieved, I always knew you could do it.”

Carmy shook his head as she continued.

“Even now, that restaurant is in the best shape that it’s been in a long time and that’s all thanks to you. My mom actually likes going to work now and with a little more pushing, I’m pretty sure we can get her to put on the apron.” Camila laughed as he let out a chuckle. Her hands moved to cup his cheeks so that they would make eye contact.

“You are so special, Carmen. You never fail to impress me, not that you need it. I swear you deserve the world.”

“Then why did you leave?” he finally whispered back, bright blue eyes boring piercing into her own.

His words caught Camila by surprise, her mouth slightly agape. Before she could get another word out, however, Noelle was dropping a plate of the desserts that they made earlier, in front of them.

“Guys, holy shit. These are fire, you have to eat one. They’re amazing.”

Sensing the tense energy between the two she paused, eyes bouncing between them before continuing.

“Okay…I’m not even going to ask. Try them. Also, Blake is pissed! During entrées, he was fully ranting at Garrett that he’s gonna scrap the whole bringing your partners' thing. Just employees.” she laughed.

“Really? That’s uh…great.” Camila muttered quietly, her eyes still flicking to the man next to her.

Still sensing the awkwardness, Noelle stood up, “You two are killing my buzz.” before walking away and leaving the pair alone again.

They sat in silence for a second, glumly staring down at their hands until both tried to speak at the same time.

“Cam, listen, I’m sor-”

“Carmy. I don’t know what to-”

“No, no. Let me finish, okay. I’m sorry that I said that. It was uncalled for and a little cruel. I just, it feels like you’ve just reappeared in my life and it’s as if you never left. You still feel the same. I’m just scared, I think. Of what happens if we do this again, take that chance. But I know that you don’t owe me an explanation until you’re ready. I can wait.”

When he was only met with a longing stare and silence, he cleared his throat and changed the subject.

“If they’re on dessert now, I doubt that they still need us on this. You wanna go back out?”

Camila shook her head slowly.

“You wanna go back home?”

Another shake.

“What then?”

After pretending to think for a second, she finally spoke up.

“You wanna go roller skating?”

“Roller skating? In these clothes?” Carmen laughed, watching her stand and reach her hand down for him to grab.

“Who cares? Let it rip, right?”

“Let it rip.”

yanda! speaks (again): so since i really just changed the entire direction of which this fic was going, the chapters were cut down to 10 instead of 12 so we’re just over halfway now 😛 also, i’ll be offline for the next couple of days so i made this one a little longer to make up for it! alright, bye!

🏷️ list: @rexorangecouny @louderfortheback @janoskiansecondsofdirection @thatonedogwithablog @kravitzwhore @iiheartbowie @doodlebob-mp3 @rainerax

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear fanfiction #the bear #the bear fic #the bear fx #carmen berzatto x oc #jeremy allan white

39 notes · View notes

defensivelee · 7 months ago

Text

Dona Dona: You Could Have Been a Bird, You Could Have Been a Swallow

The third chapter is a story about a boy and his mother. Please enjoy. Here is the AO3 link :)

CW: gun violence, murder, abusive marriage, religious indoctrination, fantastic racism, religious war, implied/referenced terrorism, ableist language, child abuse, non-sexual nudity, implied/referenced child murder, implied/reference child sexual abuse, implied/referenced father/son incest, pedophilia, normalization and glorification of sexual assault.

He thought when he fell asleep that morning he would never wake up again. His father had stayed with him practically all night, and he was sore all over. It even hurt to breathe, though eventually his father had given him his inhaler. Even he had his limits, he said. William had no idea what that could possibly mean.

Much to his disappointment, he did wake up, shaken by his mother. He looked up at her with wide eyes, and then she held him close and began to cry. He didn’t know what to do about that; all he could think about was how she wished she had killed him as soon as he was born.

Is that what you still want? He wanted to push her away, but he found he couldn’t disagree with her.

“Oh, William,” she said once she had composed herself enough, though her voice was still shaky. She pushed his hair back; it had been clinging to his cheeks and shoulders with sweat. “I’m so sorry. You were never supposed to be here. But I’m going to fix it now, okay? We’re leaving today. As soon as he goes, we go too.”

“No,” he said matter-of-factly. That much he knew.

“No?” His mother looked at him with disbelief. “William, we are both going to die if we stay here. I have friends on the outside, we’ll be safe.” She sighed, looked away. “This has been a long time coming, and I thought I could wait, but I can’t. Not anymore, after seeing what he did to you. What he’s been doing to you.”

“I’m okay,” he said in a hushed voice.

“You are not!” She took him by his wrists, and at that William gasped, flinching back. “I decide what’s okay for you, and your father sleeping with you is not okay! Do you understand, William? We are leaving, and you will live a normal life. No more terrorism, no more religious mania, no more fear.”

No more fear sounded nice. But a normal life? He only stared at her as she stood and looked around the room.

“Take only what you think you need,” she spat at length. “But make it as little as possible. I want nothing around that will remind us of him. That monster.” She glanced down at him. “Did he give you that earring?”

William’s hand flew to his ear. He shook his head, swallowing nervously.

“Where did you find it?” She took his hand away and examined the earring. “I asked you when you first got it and you never told me. And you’ve worn it everyday since.”

What could he say? That a devil had given it to him? Would she see that as treason? Or maybe not, now that they were leaving. He had no idea.

“Give me that,” she said, starting to unclip it from his ear.

“N-No—!” He pulled away, but she caught him by the horn.

“Hold still, you’ll hurt yourself!” She took the earring and held it up to the light. “It’s like a devil’s horn.”

“Please, Mama!” He jumped up, trying to take it from her, and she glared down at him.

“Why do you want it so badly? If he gave it to you, I don’t want to see it on you!” She pushed him back, and he cried out as she fitted the earring around the tip of her horn and then turned her head abruptly to the side.

The earring snapped in three pieces, and she caught them in her hand, snorting with disgust as she looked at them. “There. So you won’t have to wear him on you at all times.”

He only stared at her in shock. He wanted to be angry, but mostly he was just stunned into silence. He was already trying to remember the summoning circle for Liselotte. He had seen it countless times.

His mother glanced out the window. “I think he’s gone now. Come on, William, we don’t have much time if someone else comes. Grab what you need and meet me downstairs.” She hurried out of the room, and William’s tail shook.

He was leaving? Leaving everything here? What about Hans, what about de Witt? He couldn’t leave them at the mercy of his father.

My books! He looked under the bed, pulling out all of the ones that de Witt had given him. He knew he couldn’t take them all, but maybe just one. His favorite one, the first book with illustrations of the world’s history. Every bit of it that he needed.

So he took that, his coat, Liselotte’s knife, and his inhaler. He glanced at himself in the bathroom mirror and realized he looked like a mess. But his mother was calling for him already, so he descended the stairs and met her at the door.

“We are going to meet a few friends,” she said. “Don’t freak out when you see them, okay, William? They’re on our side, trust me.” She rested her hand on his head, smiling at him with misty eyes. “I’m sorry for everything that has happened here. I’m sorry for bringing you into this world, for never being able to fight him off—” She paused, taking a shaky breath. “But you’re here now. And you can make the world your own kingdom without him.”

“I’m a Devil of Orange-Nassau,” he protested.

“No,” she said. “You’re just a normal boy. And we will not stay here so you can realize your delusional fantasies that everyone has fed you. Now let’s go.” She took his hand and led him outside. He was tempted to pull away, but part of him was curious, part of him was...hopeful. He shouldn’t have been.

They didn’t drive, they walked for a long time right into the heart of New Amsterdam. William was shaking; all the walking had not made his soreness any better. But he was also nervous, somehow certain that everyone they walked by knew what they were doing and would tell his father. And he would be furious, William was sure of it.

“I’m hungry,” he announced. He hadn’t even eaten breakfast.

“We’ll eat when we get there,” she said. “I’m hungry, too.”

“My legs hurt.”

“You think mine don’t?”

He clamped his mouth shut and glowered at the street ahead of them. There was a Hoerenkast on the corner, smaller than most but with tall spires and a tower with a bell in it. He wondered if it was functional; he’d never heard it before. Maybe he’d just never been close enough.

Much to his dismay, it was the Hoerenkast that was their destination, and he collapsed onto the first bench he found inside, flopping dramatically onto his back. His arm was stiff from having carried the book all the way here. At least it was dimmer and darker here. Quieter, too, where he didn’t get the urge to bite anyone who spoke a single word at all.

“Mary!” A booming voice he recognized called from behind him. “You made it! Come, we have a room upstairs, take the boy with you, too.”

William sat up, his eyes widening when he saw Charles Stewart. What was the leader of the Disciples doing here? Wasn’t he their enemy?

“Thank you, Charles,” his mother said. “William, come on. De Witt told me you had seen him before, but you’ve never properly met. I’m sure you know who he is.” She paused, lowering her voice. “But I promise he’s on our side. I’ve known him for a very long time.”

A long time? William blinked, bewildered. This whole time, his mother had been friends with their worst enemy! The things he had heard about how she had come to the Devils of Orange-Nassau, then— were they all true? Had she been a Disciple before?

“And Charles, this is William,” she said, motioning to her son. “My boy. He’s ten.”

“Ten years old, hm?” Charles raised an eyebrow. “I couldn’t tell from his height, yet somehow he looks older.” He held a hand out to William, who saw the blue tattoos hiding under his jacket sleeve and sprawling out towards the back of his hand. “Hello, William. I’ve heard much about you and how you’ll kill me eventually.”

“I will,” William said, shuffling back on the bench.

“Oh, don’t talk that way, boy!” Charles laughed. “You and I, we could be great friends. Hm? Uncle Charles, how does that sound?” He sat down by William. “We could be the greatest Overlifers this world has ever seen.”

“No,” William said resolutely. “I could never call you family. You’re a Disciple, and I’m a Devil, and anyway, there can’t be two Overlifers at the same time.”

“Guess for that you’ll have to kill me, then.”

“I will.”

“No, William, you will not,” his mother said. “He’s a friend now. He’s helping us. He’s why we got to leave in the first place. I trust him, and so you will too, and you will not lay a finger on each other.”

“Awfully intense for such a young boy,” Charles said, twisting his tail around to tap Mary on the shoulder as he stood. He somehow had more diamonds on it than when William had last seen him. “James was like that too. You had to practically untwist his tongue so he could get the words out, but once you got him to talk, he wouldn’t shut up.”

“And you’re saying my son’s the same way?” She narrowed her eyes.

“Just ask him what he likes.” Charles shrugged and turned around. “Speaking of, James is waiting for us. I told him I’d only be a minute, let’s go, let’s go!”

“Come on, William.” Mary took him by the hand as they went up the decorated stairs, the walls painted with praises in Infernal.

“You still hold his hand?” Charles looked back at William, who glared right back.

“Leave him alone, he just likes to run off sometimes,” his mother said. “Does it matter? Sometimes certain things are just more interesting than the bullshit his father was spouting at him.”

It wasn’t bullshit. It was our doctrines and traditions. How could his mother be so easily turned?

“Look what I’ve brought us, Jamie!” Charles swept aside a curtain, and William and his mother found themselves in what looked like a tiny replica of the Ally meeting rooms. There were far fewer offerings, though, and a bed instead of a throne. William recalled from de Witt’s many lessons that some Hoerenkasten had temporary rooms available for those who wanted to please the devils and Allies in a much closer manner. That made no sense to William, and de Witt’s explanation was useless.

It is not a place where you should ever go, William, not until you’re older, was all he said.

“You seriously brought a child here?” A man looked up from his spot on the bed, lying back on a few pillows and blowing smoke from his mouth to the ceiling. He had white horns with a black, random wiry pattern all over them, sprouting from his sandy curls that fell over his wide blue eyes. He lay under the heavy blanket, switching the channels on the TV, and his bare arms were covered in dark green tattoos with both praises and curses to the devils.

“What do you mean, I brought a child here?” Charles asked. He picked up a collared shirt from the ground and threw it at the stranger. “Put some fucking clothes on, Jamie, you knew they were coming.”

Is he not wearing clothes under there? William swallowed and squeezed his mother’s hand.

“I thought they’d die first, honestly.” But this man, Jamie, obeyed and lifted himself up so that William could see all the tattoos on his chest as well. He pulled the shirt over himself and began to button it up, staring at William as he did so. “This is who I came all the way here for? He looks scrawny.”

“James, if you would please stop smoking,” Mary said. “He has asthma.”

“I just lit this one,” James said, yawning. William caught a glimpse of gold on his teeth, and he shuddered. “Can’t you take him somewhere else?”

Charles walked over to him and snatched the cigarette from James’ fingers, taking a puff from it before putting it out on the ashtray by the bed. “Ignore him, William; this is just my brother, James. He thinks he’s hot shit and he might be, but I’m not allowed to opine on that so make your own judgment.”

William looked up at his mother, who rolled her eyes. “Why are you here?”

“Charles wants me to move back here,” James said. His long blue tail, decorated with rings and dangling jewels more than even that of his brother’s, swished irritatedly behind him. “Wants me to bring my daughter over, too. But I’ve never wanted to return, not after...everything that has happened.”

“Well, if you do decide to leave,” Charles said, “you can take Mary and William back with you. You live far enough away that her piece of shit husband won’t be able to find her. That is,” he added cautiously, “if you’re willing to help.”

“Sure,” James said, shrugging. “Just as long as they’re out of my sight after a year.”

Charles tilted his head to the side. “A year? James, do you really think-”

“It’s fine,” Mary interrupted. “A year is more than enough time. It’ll be...hard to adjust, but after that, I think I can manage.”

“It’s just as well,” James said, curling his lip back to sneer at William. “I have no desire to help raise a little monster who believes his destiny is to destroy us all. That’s how these Devils of Orange-Nassau play, that’s how all Westerners play. Accept your kindness just to return it with violence. Isn’t that right, boy?” He stood, and William narrowed his eyes up at him.

“James, that’s enough,” his mother said, swiping her tail at his nose. “He’s been through a lot.”

“Why doesn’t he say so? Doesn’t he speak?”

“He’s exhausted,” Mary said. “His father raped him last night and has been doing so for a while. And don’t get me started on the beatings. The horrific lies. William learned how to hold a gun before he learned how to speak. This has been his whole life so far.” She lifted her head, her eyes glinting. “So he can do whatever he likes now.”

William’s face flushed. Had it really been necessary to say all that? He didn’t know these men, and they didn’t need to know him.

“His father did what?!” Charles barked out. Beside him, James took a step back, his tail twitching at the tip as if he had just smelled something foul. “And you didn’t think to start with that? We should take him to a hospital!”

“I- I don’t think that’s necessary,” Mary said, clearing her throat.

“It’s okay,” William said. He lifted his head haughtily at Charles. “It’s nothing. I’ll be an Overlifer one day, so it’ll be worth it.”

Charles glanced down at him. He looked very much a different man than the person that William had seen at the Southern Kingdom celebration.

“You do look exhausted,” he said. “Lucky you, you won’t have to walk for much longer. We’ll be headed a little farther out, and you can sleep on the way there. How does that sound?”

“Aren’t we going to eat?”

“You haven’t eaten?” Charles raised his eyebrows at Mary. “Alright, we’ll go there first.”

After they had eaten (not very peacefully on William’s part; he kept glancing outside and half-expecting his father to walk through the door), William found himself in Charles’ car, leaning against his mother in the backseat. It was very warm back here, and it was making him drowsy.

“You want to sleep, William?” She stroked at her son’s horns. “Go ahead.”

“Where are we going?” He shut his eyes.

“Far away from here,” she said. “And we’ll never return. Just promise me one thing, as we leave this place.”

“What?”

“You will never get your six lives,” she said. “You will never be an Overlifer and carry out what the Devils of Orange-Nassau would have wanted for you. You will live a normal life forever and you will be safe.”

He wanted to protest. He opened his eyes but realized he was too tired to do so. He also realized James was staring at him through gleaming eyes, and Charles glanced over at him through the rearview mirror.

“You promise that right now,” James said in a low voice. “Don’t think about it. You belong to us now.”

“That isn’t how I would phrase it,” Mary said, “but yes, William, we’re with them now. And if you want to stay, you have to make this promise.”

He didn’t want to, but he remembered everything de Witt and his father had taught him. That to survive in this world, you had to deceive. It was something Mary herself had taught him, one of the first lessons he remembered— he had to keep his father happy, whatever it took.

And so to guarantee to himself that one day, he would be an Overlifer, he would rule the world, he made that promise, but inwardly whispered to Ferocity that it was a lie. He made his own promise to her that he would come for her descendants soon.

I’ll kill both of you, too. He closed his eyes again. He didn’t care what his mother said; didn’t she see that Charles and James were still enemies? They wanted to control her!

But he didn’t say that. He fell asleep and let them believe they had quelled the danger.

They ended up in a hotel; at least, that was what William observed when he woke up. He’d never stayed in many. Even on their rare visits to relatives in Grand Cabaret, his father had insisted on staying with the family.

“This is where Jamie’s been staying,” Charles said as he turned off the car. “Even though I told him he didn’t have to do that.”

“And stay with your whole mess of dwaallicht spirits, no, thank you,” James said. “When will you settle down? Those sultry little beasts are no match for a lifelong partner.”

“It’s not necessary yet, is it?” Charles said. “I still have much time. Six lives, you know!”

“I just think it’s best to get it over with,” James muttered under his breath. He turned back to William and his mother. “And you see why I stayed here instead.”

James’ room was larger than William’s room back at home, and had infinitely more places to hide. William counted them all in his head and then ran over to the balcony, hearing his mother’s exclamation behind him. But the words everyone was saying were all blurred to him now.

He leaned over the edge. Today the city was clearer than usual. He took a deep breath, which his lungs met ungratefully with a sharp cough.

“William,” he heard his mother breathe out beside him. “We’re far away from him now.”

William shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“We are,” she insisted. “We can live our own lives now.”

“You said I should have never been born.”

She inhaled sharply. “That...doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to live. I’m only sorry I couldn’t have left before it all happened, and for what he’s done to you, I—” She paused, taking William’s hand. “I never would have guessed. I knew there were other women, but you- you’re not-”

“It was better than everything else he did,” William said.

“William, look, I- I swore I was staring right back at myself when I saw you last night,” she said. “When I was younger. Not your age, but before this...before you. That’s how you were born and now to realize my son suffers the same—!” Her voice went higher at the end, and she began to cry like she had this morning.

William leaned on her. Maybe he could forgive her. He wasn’t entirely sure what was her fault, but he thought it could make her feel better.

But after everything she told him? After she’d broken the earring, after she had quite rudely ripped him away from his destiny and his friends, did she deserve forgiveness?

One day, maybe. When I rule the world and my father’s dead.

He wiped at his eyes, glaring down at the city and realizing he was crying too. Was he allowed to hope that things could get better? That his father would never lay hands on him again? Was the price of his authority worth it?

So many questions, I just want one answer. He looked up at the sky. He could just taste the beginnings of a tentative new destiny; it was hanging right there in front of him if he wanted to reach for it. Like de Witt had always spoken of it, there was no fear and no pain and no blood. He was tempted.

“What are you two doing out there?” James asked behind them. “It’s freezing.”

“R-Right.” Mary looked up, wiping her tears away. “Come on, William.”

William looked back at James as he walked in and wondered how his mother had ever come to befriend such a sour creature. He didn’t seem at all sympathetic to either of them. He wondered if it was true, if James was really going to take them along with him when he left. It seemed to him that living with James might be the same as living with his father, except more annoying.

But the good part was that his mother assured him that they would leave James after they figured everything out. “Besides,” she added later that night, “he’s not that bad once you get to know him.”

Well, William did get to know him. After his first day there (much of which he spent rereading de Witt’s book) came his first night. It was hard to fall asleep as he had been sleeping for a good part of the day, and he couldn’t close his eyes knowing that this time Liselotte wouldn’t open them. He wondered if the connection was severed or if she would show up to the dream anyway and just wait for him. Endlessly.

He got off the bed, taking care not to disturb his mother, and walked past the Disciple brothers’ room to search in his coat pocket for Liselotte’s knife. Though none of the city’s glow made it this far into the room, the knife on its own shone in his hands, especially from the red stripe over the blade.

He looked up and nearly screamed out loud when he saw the figure on the balcony, with the tall, twisting horns and the unblinking blue eyes. James was staring right at him, blowing smoke out from his lips into the night.

Why did he scare you? William tried to quiet his breathing, his hand clutching at his chest to calm his beating heart. He’s just an idiot smoking. He knew both James and Charles had been out for a while today, late into the night, but when he heard the door he’d assumed both of them had gone to bed.

James lifted a hand and beckoned for William to join him there. William hesitated; he wouldn’t put it past James to push him off the balcony. But it was a stupid way to kill someone as important as him, so he lifted his head up with as much dignity as he could and stepped out beside James.

“Can’t sleep?” James asked.

“I could if I wanted to.”

“Don’t be like that.” He flicked his tail over William’s horns. “I couldn’t sleep, either. Especially since I couldn’t smoke all day thanks to you. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?”

“I don’t care,” William said.

James raised an eyebrow. “You should try it.” He held his cigarette out to William’s mouth, and William stumbled back, holding his hand out defensively.

“D-Don’t burn me,” William said. And he hated himself for pleading.

James tilted his head to the side and looked back to the city. “I wasn’t going to.” He laughed suddenly. “Oh, your daddy had it out for you, didn’t he? Is that why you can’t sleep? Because he went into your room last night, or you went into his, or whatever he made you do.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” William mumbled.

“Of course you don’t,” James said. “But I don’t want us to be strangers, hm?” He lifted William’s chin up with his tail. “So here, I can tell you something about me, and you can tell me what your father did.”

“I- I don’t think-”

James hissed, suddenly bringing William closer and speaking right into his face. “Listen here, you little monster. I’m not fucking stupid. You were planning to murder me and Charles, weren’t you? I saw that flashy knife you were playing with.”

“I wasn’t going to kill anyone,” William said, pushing him away. Inwardly, though, he was pleased that James would think that of him.

That’s right, fear me! See me for the danger I am!

“I know what you were brought up to do,” James said. “You think just because you’re ten I’ll believe you? News flash, kid, I first killed someone when I was twelve. You don’t need all these years to know when someone deserves to die.”

Twelve? William could hardly remember anything from when he was younger. He knew there were the ever-present sensations of terror and blood, though, and he knew the plainly-worded facts like he knew the names of every Ally.

A seven-year-old boy killed someone three years ago.

Why did James get to wait for so long? He wanted to say that that wasn’t fair, but maybe that was why James was such an idiot. William had learned early on. At least his father had done that well.

“I know,” he said quietly.

“So unless you want me to take you back to your father, I suggest you be nice,” James said. “Go along with what I’m telling you and everything will be fine. I’ll go first, how about it?”

“Okay.” William looked away, coughing as James flicked his cigarette thoughtfully in between his fingers.

“I have a wife and daughter,” he began. “I live over in the Mercia Governorate, but I was born here. I can’t say I miss it. Bad things happened here.”

“Was it the invasive devils?” William asked. He still remembered what his father had told him, how the brothers had fled Berufungsachse because of a situation with those devils. One he called Cromwell.

James blinked. “Yes. How did you know?”

“My father told me,” William said. “How’d it happen? I thought they couldn’t do it anymore.”

“When you’re stupid as fuck they can,” James said. He flicked his tail dismissively. “Enough of that. Tell me what your father did. Did it hurt?”

William hesitated. “Yes.”

“Did he kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you like it?”

William stepped back. What kind of question was that? Did he look like the kind of person to like it?

“Answer me, William,” James said. His eyes glittered. “You did, didn’t you?”

“No!” William cried. He paused. “Should I?” He had tried to last night— and look where it had ended up. Not an entirely bad thing, though, to be out here, but he wasn’t sure if he would have done it all over again even if he had known.

“Would you rather it hurt you instead?” James asked. “Might as well try to make the best of it. It’s what defeated enemies in the Four Kingdoms did.”

“I have more pride than them,” William said, his face flushing.

“They are pleased that the enemy who beat them still wishes to touch them at all,” James said. “It’s tradition. I know this is something very different, but maybe it would have helped you to think of yourself that way.”

What a stupid tradition, William wanted to say. It’s what they’d done for centuries, even among the Overlifers themselves— after any victory, the winner would take the loser to bed, and the loser was expected to like it. And judging by the stories William had read, they did. But he was better than that.

“That’s nothing to be proud of,” he said. “Letting the guy who beat you do all that to you?” He shuddered, the shiver running down to his tail. “It’s gross.”

“Think of it that way if you want, little prince,” James said. “But if you don’t like it, perhaps it was your father doing something wrong.”

“There’s no right way to do this.” William began to cough, and James shook his head as if that was the most disappointing thing he’d ever heard.

“You’ll find someone you like one day,” he said.

“I’m ten!” William glared up at him.

“And that’s exactly what makes you so special.” James rubbed his head in between his horns. “No one else knows as much about this as you do.”

Special? For some reason the word didn’t feel so great to William anymore.

“William—!” He heard his mother’s cry from within, and he jumped, rushing back inside. Anything to rid himself of James’ presence, he thought, but when he looked back he saw James had followed him.

What he found was his mother sitting up on her bed, breathing heavily as she stared down at her ringing phone. Charles was beside her, rubbing at his eyes and taking her hand.

“Calm down, Mary,” he said. “Just don’t answer.”

“But- but what if he- he’ll find us—!” She looked up at William and immediately brought him closer to herself, and William saw the name on the dim screen. It was his own name, but also not his own, because he didn’t have any phone.

William. His father.

“If he’s calling this late, he was probably out pretty late, too,” Charles said, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe cheating again?” He flicked his tail against her nose, but she only looked away and shook her head.

William tilted his head to the side. His father’s unfaithfulness had been the subject of a lot of his parents’ arguments, often the reason he was able to summon Liselotte in the first place. But he hadn’t heard that point brought up in what felt like a long time.

“He- he hasn’t in a while,” Mary said. She looked William up and down. “I think because he had you.”

Oh, great. William swallowed. “You’re welcome?” he tried.

“But he’s always been- I mean-” She took a shaky breath. “If he was doing it now, I wouldn’t be surprised.” She lifted the phone, her eyes widening. “Do you think he can- he can find us like this? He’s taken my phone before— what if-”

The phone stopped ringing for a moment, then it started up again.

“Give me that,” James said, snatching the phone from her hand. He answered the call and held the phone up to his ear. “Hey, freak, your son thinks you’re awful in bed. And I would agree.”

There was silence, and William froze. His father would absolutely kill him for that.

“Jamie...” Charles winced.

“Ah, Charles. James.” The high voice came from the speaker. “I should have known she went running back to you.”

“We’ve done more for her than you ever have,” James spat. “I hate you. I fucking hate you. You know you could have helped us when the invasive devils came.”

“That was never my responsibility. I owe you two nothing.”

“Are you aware that they would’ve come for you, too?” He lifted a hand to his horn, rubbing at it like Mary had often done to William to soothe him. “You had everything to gain and nothing to lose if you had just helped us. No, we had to run to the Southern Kingdom and- and do you know what happened there?!” He snarled the last words out, and William saw his eyes glistening. “You can’t be bothered to care about anyone but yourself! You piece of shit, you don’t deserve Mary.”

“James, please,” Mary said. “Calm down.”

“Mary,” her husband said. It was said as calmly as ever, but William recognized the anger behind it. “Where are you?”

“She’s not telling you,” Charles said firmly. “Fuck off, William.”

“Kidnapping my wife is grounds for a war, you know.”

“Then say the word and we’ll be guaranteed to fuck you up.”

“Very well. I’ll be there tomorrow.” With that, he hung up, leaving everyone’s tails lashing nervously.

“Damnit,” James grunted. He wiped at his nose, and William got a strange, dizzying sense of watching himself in someone else’s body. James was holding his head up as if his father had just punched him right in the nose, and sure enough, William saw the blood running from his nose to his lips in the light reflected from outside.

“Again?” Charles nudged him to his feet. “Go get yourself cleaned up.”

“I’m sorry,” James said.

“Aw, don’t worry about it.” Charles smiled. “It hasn’t been so long since, ah...” He glanced at William. “Everything, I suppose.”

James narrowed his eyes at William and left the room without another word.

“What’s everything?” William asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Charles said, patting William roughly in between the horns.

Ugh. William backed away.

Mary was silent. She kept staring at the phone, then picked it up, her finger hovering over the numbers. “I- maybe I should call him back...and tell him I’ll go back on my own...”

“What? No, Mary!” Charles took her hands. “You just left!”

“But I put you two in danger.” Mary blinked, and William saw tears running down her face. “If it’s all because of me I couldn’t forgive myself. Maybe if I go back willingly he won’t be so mad.”

“But you would put yourself and William in danger?” Charles twined his tail with hers. “All over again?”

Mary shook her head helplessly and shuffled back, covering her face. “No...I can’t do that again...”

“We’ve known each other since childhood,” Charles said. “And no matter what’s happened between us, this isn’t what I would want for you. You deserve to be free, Mary. And so does that boy.”

“I could just leave you with William,” Mary said, looking up. “I know it’s me he wants. I could handle everything he does to me as long as William is safe.”

“No—!” William burst into tears at that moment, burying himself in his mother’s arms. “No, no, no, I- I wanna stay with you!”

“Oh, William, I could never leave you,” he heard her whisper, and he gripped her tighter. If that monster was coming for them in the morning, then they had to stay together, whatever he did to them.

“I don’t know.” He heard Charles pacing behind them, his tail lashing and making a sound like a whip. “I don’t think he’ll be able to find us here, but as long as you’re in New Amsterdam...you’re not safe.”

“Then what do you suggest?” she asked.

“You leave with James immediately,” he said. “He can take you to Mercia.”

“In the middle of the night? By train or by car?”

“Car, obviously, what do you think we are, poor?” Charles laughed. “He did come here by train, though. I’ll just lend him mine— I know your husband loves attacking the rails, and I wouldn’t put it past him to order bombings on multiple lines if he thinks you’re there. Chances are, he would hit you eventually.”

“He wouldn’t kill me,” Mary said.

“Absolutely he fucking would,” Charles said at the same time William nodded fiercely.

“Where would that leave you?” Mary asked, squeezing William perhaps harder than she intended. He winced, hiding in her arms again and sniffling.

“I’ll handle any war he wants to fight,” Charles said. “I’ve been through worse, trust me. And he won’t care once he realizes that I don’t have you anymore. Right now, I can just call someone to come get me...” He yawned and stretched. “Jamie, you heard all that?”

“No.” James’ voice sounded muffled.

“Alright.” Charles smiled at Mary. “You get ready, I’ll explain to him what he needs to do.” He walked out after James, and Mary stood, beginning to pack what little she had brought. William wiped away his tears and watched her, his tail shaking.

We can’t go back there. He felt the sting of his father’s touch everywhere on him suddenly, like he’d just gone through another beating. Whatever that meant at this point. He shook himself out and stood to help his mother. He could fulfill his destiny without his father, he decided. Without the whole of the Devils of Orange-Nassau.

Does this mean I’m leaving Hans forever? De Witt? He thought there might still be a chance he could see them if he stayed here in New Amsterdam, but what were the chances they would find him in the Mercia Governorate?

He would find them again. He had to. And they had to be okay. He took a deep breath and tried to look as dignified as a prince had to look, even with his face still wet with tears.

I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

“Be safe,” Charles said as they got into his car, with him waiting outside of James’ window. “I think it’s about five hours from here. You might get there at dawn.”

“They can just sleep on the way there,” James muttered. He didn’t look too pleased to have to drive back this late. “They’re not the ones driving.”

“I’m sure there’s a few places you can stop if you get tired,” Charles said cheerily. “Alright, James, don’t die out there, please and thank you.”

“You don’t die here,” James said.

“I can afford to lose one.”

“No!” James cried out, turning his head to him frantically. “You have to survive. Don’t lose even one. I want to come back to you later.”

Charles paused, then laughed, leaning into the window to pat his brother on the shoulder. “Call me when you get there. I’ll wait for you whenever you decide to bring your family over.” He rubbed at one of James’ horns, then stepped back and cleared his throat. “Alright, I can’t keep you waiting. It was nice to see you and Mary again. And it was good to meet you, William.”

William looked away. He was still crying, albeit quieter now, and his mother was rubbing at his back.

He fell asleep about twenty minutes into the ride, as the bright lights around them started to dim and become fewer and farther apart. The silence in the car made him sleepy, calmed him down a little, and he thought perhaps he would be safe after all.

He woke up not so long after, when a bright light shone into the window and his eyes. He groaned a little, rubbing at them and sitting up when he realized the car was stopped. Had they arrived already?

“Oh, I’m sorry, William,” his mother said. “James just wanted to stop here for a bit.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m tired,” James said, yawning. “You know your brat snores like a devil lord?”

“Leave him alone,” Mary said. She looked out the windows and narrowed her eyes. “I know you did not just bring us where I think you did. William’s not allowed in there, you know how-”

“Don’t worry, the Disciples run the show here,” James reassured her. “Besides, he won’t see anything that he doesn’t want to see. They have extra rooms here, and we can all take power naps and then get out of here. I’ve got some business to do here, anyway. Meeting with some of the Devils, coincidentally.”

“Of Orange-Nassau?” Mary asked, her eyes widening when he nodded. “I- I think I’ll just stay in the car.”

“I’m not leaving the heat on,” James said. “Come in, just make sure no one sees you. I’ll walk in before you.”

“Fine.”

As they stepped inside, James lit a cigarette as if he had forgotten William was there. It was much too loud and bright here already, with lights like the ones in New Amsterdam at night, and so many people dressed in clothing somehow more revealing than that of the Allies, their tails bouncing along to the beat of the current song. William shut his eyes and hid behind his mother as he heard James speak to the men at the bar who greeted him with a strange, yet all too familiar respect.

“You will have to forgive the late payment...I’ve been running with Charles in Berufungsachse, but I’m here now...”

“Did you bring the kid for us, too?”

William realized with horror that one man was pointing at him, and he sprung back behind his mother, covering his ears. The voice had somehow sounded louder than the music. It hurt from his ears to his heart, and he could feel himself shaking against Mary, sickness rising in his throat. He knew what this place was now.

He didn’t open his eyes until the music and voices faded away to a muffled lull and he was sure his mother had led him away from the crowd. They were standing in an endlessly dark hall, the only light being from the street lamps outside.

“I think this one’s empty,” James said. He opened the door to the last room and motioned for them to go in. “I’ll come back for you when I’m done. Don’t get into any trouble.”

“You too,” Mary said. James bowed his head at this, and William thought he was hiding a smile.

His mother fell asleep soon enough and ordered him to do so as well, holding his hand that rested on the pillow by her. But he couldn’t bring himself to lie on this bed.

He pulled his hand away. He would be an Overlifer; no one ordered an Overlifer to go to sleep.

Instead he left the room and walked cautiously down the hall. He didn’t know the path they had taken to get here, with his eyes having been shut the entire time. But he knew there were rather sharp turns, so he took a left and then a right and another left. There were the stairs, where he knew for a fact his mother had to drag him up. But he hadn’t seen the animals painted on the wall.

There were heraldic deer and griffins with muzzles of rope and leather clamping their furious jaws shut. They lay on top of trios of saltires, and underneath those sat cheerful lions pulling on those very ropes. There was a haughty air to them that reminded William of James.

Lions of the Eastern Kingdom, he realized. Of course. In a place run by the Disciples, that was more than expected. He looked scornfully up to the griffin of the Western Kingdom; the poor, weak thing.

You’ll never muzzle me.

He didn’t want to go downstairs, that was where the music and the bad men were, so he went up the stairs again, farther and farther away from everyone. It was a little lighter here, but the lights flickered often, starting to give him a headache.

There were fewer rooms, too. Louder ones, with people speaking behind doors. He thought he heard James’ voice. And, he realized as he crept closer, a more familiar one.

“Just tell us where he is. You must know.”

“I left Charles in New Amsterdam. There’s no one here but me.”

That first voice was Mijnheer Bentinck. Hans’ father.

Oh, Ferocity. William began to step away, turning around cautiously just as he heard rapid footsteps start up on the stairs behind him. He didn’t know who it was, but he knew he couldn’t be found.

There were no rooms he could run in. To barge in and hide with James would only make things worse, with Bentinck there. He could only freeze in place, falling still as if his father had finally caught him.

It was Hans who entered the hall, yawning and wiping at his eyes. He looked up and gasped when he saw William.

“William? William, it’s you!” He ran to William, taking his hand and embracing him. “Your father said you’d been kidnapped! I was so worried, I-” He stepped back. “What are you doing here? Is this where your kidnappers brought you?”

“N-No.” William shook his head. “I mean, kind of. If you could just please be a little quieter—”

“I have to tell my father!” Hans declared. “Come on! Don’t worry, he’ll drive us back, and you’ll be safe back in Berufungsachse in no time.” He pulled William along with him, and William stumbled, following him for fear of having his arm ripped off.

“Hans, please— I don’t wanna go back!”

“You- you-” Hans paused, looking over at him and tilting his head to the side. “Huh? Really?”

“I mean, I don’t want Mama to go back,” William said, his face burning with shame. “She’s been through a lot. So I went with her, but I don’t- I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“But how will you become an Overlifer?” Hans asked.

“I can do it on my own!” William insisted. “I don’t need my father to teach me the right way to rule. I can figure it out myself. It’s what Overlifers have always done. Besides, I don’t-” He took a breath, holding back sudden tears. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

Hans slowly let go of him, blinking in surprise. “But I’d be more afraid if I didn’t have my father with me. If I didn’t have the Devils of Orange-Nassau. And especially for the heir— William, this is everything to you, and you’re leaving it behind?”

“I’ll never be more afraid than I was with him,” William said firmly. “I know that.”

Hans was silent for a moment. “There’s...nothing to fear,” he said at length.

Is he crazy? William narrowed his eyes, and just then the door behind them opened, Hans’ father glaring down at them and then back at James beside him. James himself looked very annoyed, but his eyes widened in disbelief when he saw William.

“I knew I heard him,” Bentinck growled. “Our Overlifer is very wise. I would advise you to think twice before attempting to fool him.” His gaze softened as he looked down at William. “Did the Disciples capture you? Where is your mother, little prince?”

“I- I’m just-” William began to back away.

“You still have my phone, Hans?” Bentinck looked down at his son. “Call de Witt and tell him we found the prince.”

“The fuck you are,” James said. He started towards Hans, who looked up in alarm, just as his father slammed into James, his elbow in particular stabbing into James’ chest, having as sure as an effect as if it had been a knife. The Disciple fell back on the ground, huffing for breath and shuffling back when he saw Bentinck take out his gun.

“Hans, get out of here.”

“But-”

“I’m telling you to go!” He cocked the gun down at James, who scurried towards William in a manner that much reminded him of the smallest dwaallicht spirit. But he couldn’t escape the first shot; his legs buckled under him as the sound rang out, and he fell forward with a sharp grunt.

“Mijnheer de Witt!” William heard Hans’ voice behind him. “Tell our master— we found William! Yes, he’s okay, but he’s with the Disciples— they could have hurt him—”

That was William’s cue to run. He didn’t know where exactly he would go, but he knew he had to get his mother. Some part of him didn’t want to leave James, the man who was somehow, in his own awful way, trying to protect them, but he didn’t think there was much they could do for him now. Besides, his mother could drive, couldn’t she?

“Mama!” he cried as he opened the door. “Mama— the Devils are here! Hanni and his father!”

“What- what is it, William?” She opened her eyes with a yawn. “Where’d you go?”

“The Devils, Mama, I’m telling you! Come on, we have to go, they shot James!” He ran to her and started pulling her off the bed, and she sat up abruptly, putting on her shoes and following him out the door.

“Where? Where is he?”

“It doesn’t matter! He-” He was cut off by another gunshot. “He’s probably already dead!”

“No!” Mary cried. “Charles needs him alive! And he’s the only one that can take us. I need him alive, too!” She ran ahead of him, past the alarmed faces poking out behind the doors. William backed away from them and followed her, trying to stifle his wheezes.

The two of them nearly collided with James on the staircase, running down with an awkward limp. “What are you doing here?” he asked, bewildered. “We have to go!”

“William said you were shot,” Mary said. “Was it your leg? Did it hit the- the artery?”

“Fuck, no,” James muttered. “I can feel it in there, but it’s not the first time I’ve been shot. Come on!” He pushed them forward, and William heard someone else running down the stairs behind them. There were lighter steps, quicker than the heavy ones.

James seemed to hear it too, because he stopped, holding his tail out on alert. “You go,” he told Mary. “I’ll hold them off. It’s just a brat and his father.”

“And if you’re shot again?” Mary asked. “I’m staying with you. At least give me the keys!”

“Ugh, fine.” James turned around to do so, but they were cut off by another gunshot beside them, the bullet just barely missing James’ horns. William winced, and James looked up, his eyes wide.

“I’m not letting you leave with the heir of the Devils of Orange-Nassau.” Hans’ father still had his gun pointed at James. Hans was hurriedly writing on slips of paper as he followed him. “We’ve been training him for years.”

“Abusing him, more like,” James hissed. “To fulfill his father’s fantasies. You would be sick if you knew what your Overlifer has done to him.” He snorted as he looked at Hans. “You think a boy’s messily written spells will help you?”

“You stole our prince!” Hans retorted. “And I’ve gotten very good at spells, I’ll have you know.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Doubtful.”

“Lady Mary,” Bentinck spoke up, bowing his head at William’s mother. “Did you go with them willingly? We all know of your...history with the Disciples of Restoration. While I’m ready to forgive you, I don’t know how easy it will be for your husband to do so.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m not going back. And neither is William.”

“And why is that?”

“James may look like an idiot to you, but he’s right about one thing.” Mary narrowed her eyes. “That man is not an Overlifer you want to follow.”

“So you are traitors,” Bentinck said thoughtfully. “I do have to question what wisdom William had in choosing an Easterner for his wife.”

“Hold that thought,” James said, lurching forward with a lash of his tail, “because that means you’ll die a traitor, too.” Something unnatural glinted in the dim light, and William looked up, trying to make sense of what he’d just seen before he realized in a split second that Mijnheer Bentinck’s throat had been split open, and James held his tail high with blood dripping from its tufts of fur. No, not just the fur— out of one of the many gold rings he wore on his tail, there was a blade pointing towards the ceiling, and that was where the blood came from.

A hidden blade. William’s father had one on his tail, too, and he’d used it often. Nobody could ever pinpoint which ring it would come out from, though, which was why William had liked it.

Bentinck lifted a hand up to his throat, holding his other hand out to steady himself on the wall. But he didn’t stay up for too long and fell to his knees, and Hans looked wildly from James to William to his father. He knelt beside him and shook him, crying out, “No- no, stay up! We can’t let the Disciples win! Please, Papa!”

“Hans, you must—” Bentinck looked up, and William swallowed. When had his own father said his name with such love? When had he ever looked at him like this, like he was sorry for everything he’d been through?

“There’s so much, oh, Ferocity, it’s too much,” Hans whispered frantically, holding his hand up to his father’s throat. “Papa, please, breathe!”

But his father was not breathing, his father held his son’s hands in his own until he couldn’t anymore and slumped against Hans' body. Hans wrapped his arms around his neck, and that kept him up until the boy collapsed as well, sobbing into his father’s chest and blood dripping onto his hair as he did so.

He tried to stop us. William lifted his head high, trying not to let any emotion show on his face. It was necessary.

“Well.” James, however, sounded very pleased. “Now you’ve watched your father die. It isn’t fun, is it?”

Hans shook his head. “He’s not- he’s not dead,” he said shakily. “He’ll be up again soon, just you wait.” He pushed the body off of him, looking into his father’s eyes. “Look at me, say something—!”

“Hans,” William spoke up. “You can come with us.”

“What?” Hans looked back at him. “I- I’m not going to leave him until he’s okay.”

“You know he’s dead,” William said. “But that’s okay, ‘cause you can come with us now, and no one’s gonna stop you.”

“What are you talking about?” Hans’ eyes widened. “He’s not dead! He’s not dead, William, stop talking like he is! I’m staying with the Devils forever, just like you! I’m going to be your Ally, don’t you remember?” He stepped forward and took William’s hand. William shuddered at the feeling of the blood, but forced himself to meet Hans’ eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

“I don’t have a problem with taking this boy with us.” James shrugged, but in his gaze there was something William had seen from his father before, and he didn’t like it.

His mother must have seen it, too. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

James laughed dismissively, but William thought he noticed an uneasiness in the way he waved his tail. “I only mean to protect him. Of course, we could always return him to the Devils...or we could just kill him right here.” His smile faded, and he looked bored suddenly. “He’ll want vengeance when he grows up. Might as well kill the brat before he gets any ideas.”

“No!” Mary and William yelled in unison.

“Why not?” James rolled his eyes. “Didn’t I tell you Louis did it? It was smart.”

“Louis is a paranoid psychopath,” Mary said. “You are not. Don’t make me think that way of you.”

“I’m- I just- I want to get him help,” Hans said, pulling at his father’s arm. “Come on! Help me, William!” He wiped away his tears, his eyes narrowed in determination.

James snorted. “What do you think, William? Should I shoot this boy, too?”

“Argh, shut up!” Hans took the gun lying beside his father and pointed it at James. “I’ll kill you first!”

“Ooh, feisty,” James said, raising his hands. “Fine, then, I’ll let you live. We don’t have time for this shit, anyway. I’ll get some of my guys to clean this up later. Come on, Mary. William.” He waved his tail at them and continued down the stairs.

“I’m sorry, Hans,” Mary said. “You called de Witt, right? Go with him before the Disciples kill you.”

“I couldn’t go with you Easterners,” Hans hissed. He was crying again, and William felt sick, staring into his friend’s bloody, desperate features. “Just leave me alone.”

“Goodbye,” William said. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. “I love you.”

“Huh?” Hans looked up again, but William didn’t know how to elaborate, so he just followed his mother down the stairs.

“Alright, clear out, all of you!” James was saying to the Disciple guests and clients when he got there. “I suspect the Devils of Orange-Nassau will be here soon, and you don’t want to be in the crossfire when they demand to know where I am.”

“How’s your leg?” Mary asked.

“Same as it ever was.” James scowled. They walked towards the exit, and William glanced back worriedly in case Hans was following them. He still had that gun.

Mary opened the door for him. William looked up and in that moment saw someone standing there, blocking his way, and his heart stopped when he thought he recognized who it was. His mother’s shocked exclamation behind him only confirmed it.

“William?”

William stumbled back into her arms as his father came in, de Witt following close behind. He didn’t look very thrilled to see William there— if anything, he looked horrified.

“William,” he blurted. “Where are the Bentincks?”

“Um-”

“I killed one of them,” James announced proudly. “Next time, William, come here yourself if you must and quit sending your dogs after me.”

“Don’t make him mad!” Mary prodded him in the shoulder with her tail.

But her husband only turned his head towards James, his own tail eerily still behind him. “You have killed the boy?”

“I was going to,” James said. “Would you have cared?”

“No.”

The coldness in his reply infuriated William. He had sent Hans and his father to them, and if they had died for it— he couldn’t find it in himself to care? Hans was his friend! And with that knowledge, with the idea that he would never again return to living with this rat, he ran at his father with a furious scream, taking Liselotte’s knife out from his pocket.

He was aiming for the stomach, and though he felt blood splash on his face, he realized that wasn’t where he’d hit at all. His father had held out his hand, catching the blade in his fist. William glared up at him, shaking slightly as his father withdrew his hand, the wide, open wound dropping blood onto the ground.

“Formidable boy,” he said. “You must check that impulse. That was what my mother told me.”

“What?” William’s gaze softened.

“You think you could have killed me?” His father, for once, looked apologetic. “That was never for you. I only say this because she’s gone now, but my mother was right. Marrying an Easterner was the worst thing I ever did. And you were never supposed to be here.” He ran his bloody hand through William’s hair. “I was supposed to rule forever.”

Don’t you want me to rule? William shuddered as he felt the blood stain his cheek.

“Get away from him,” he heard his mother spit out behind him. “I’m done. We’re not going back. William, come here.”

“Yes, run off to her!” William’s eyes widened as his father raised his hand high, but before it could come down on his face, James shoved him away and bucked his head forward, much like a provoked bull. His horns drove through the Overlifer’s chest, and as James jerked his head violently to the side, William heard an ugly tearing sound.

His father fell to the ground, holding his hand shakily up to his chest. William had never seen anyone draw blood from him. He thought he was going to faint. Only seeing de Witt saved him; he saw the steady gaze fixed on him, no longer shocked but patient.

This is what he wants. The right word for that was traitor. He’d always known it.

James barked out a triumphant laugh, his pristine white horns now stained red, the blood running down to his hair and face. “You know, I can kill you now,” he said. “Do you know how delighted Charles would be with me?” He brought his heel down on William’s chest, eliciting a loud grunt from him, his body jolting at the impact.

“Don’t hurt him!” Mary frantically pulled James away.

“Why not? After everything he’s done to you?” James looked into her eyes. “And your child? Mary, you don’t- you can’t seriously feel anything for him at this point. “

She held her son close, and William shut his eyes. He couldn’t bear to stare at his father like this anymore.

“Please,” she said. “I just don’t want you to kill him. Let him go.”

“Mary, if you’re with us now you have to understand that we’ll forever be against the Devils of Orange-Nassau.” James’ voice sounded unsympathetic. “There’s no room for split loyalties. If I have a chance to kill one of our greatest enemies, why shouldn’t I?”

“De Witt,” William heard his father say. “Kill James now.”

William peeked behind his mother and saw de Witt with a hand on his gun. He was tempted to let it happen, but he met de Witt’s gaze and shook his head.

De Witt paused, then nodded once at William. “Sir, you’re wounded. The prince takes charge in your absence.”

“I am not absent.” William’s father began to stand, and Mary shoved William behind her, turning around to glare at her husband. “I am right here.” Every breath he took seemed an agony for him, and William was briefly disgusted before he realized he was pleased.

“I really must advise against this, sir, you may be at risk of losing a life,” de Witt said. “We’re at a serious disadvantage. If we don’t leave now, you could lose all of them.”

“No!” a fierce little voice insisted behind them. “You have me, sir.”

Hans. William’s tail dropped to the ground, and James and Mary stepped closer to him, James in particular lashing his tail nervously when he saw the boy with the bloody face and the gun.

“He killed my father.” Hans wiped at his eyes, but his voice betrayed that he was still crying. “I’m not letting this Disciple get away.”

“Hans, if you think you’re any match for Charles’ brother you are sorely mistaken,” de Witt said. “Look what he’s done to our leader.”

“No!” William’s father snapped. “He’s done nothing to me! I am very well, I-” He stumbled forward, and de Witt rushed to hold him up as he fell into fits of coughing. William raised his head higher.

“Hans,” de Witt said. “Come here.”

“I don’t follow orders from you,” Hans growled. He looked at William. “You, tell me to kill him. Please. There’s nothing more I want right now.”

“He will do no such thing,” James cut in, much to William’s relief. “You couldn’t kill me, boy. No one can. You see that the blood on my horns is that of your Overlifer. I have only one life, but I am more powerful than he could ever imagine. I killed your father.” He limped toward Hans, who shuffled back, holding his gun out cautiously. “I can kill you too. The rest of your family would come first, however, because you don’t get to die without seeing that.”

“You’re not doing that,” William’s mother said sternly. “He’s doomed enough as it is, working for the Devils of Orange-Nassau. The least you can do is let him keep the family I know he loves.”

“Mary, Mary,” her husband sang, still held up by de Witt. He was smiling, but William saw the urgency and panic in his fiercely twitching tail, and in the shudders running through him as he reached for his gun. “Don’t pretend like you still care for any of us anymore. You betrayed us and you betrayed me. You took my heir with you. Unforgivable.”

“I don’t want your forgiveness,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I- I just want you to leave us alone.”

“Leave you alone?” He laughed, as if in disbelief. “After everything I’ve given you, including that half-bred little brat, isn’t this a little unfair? I think so.” He lifted the gun and pointed it towards James, and William saw the apathy come back to him again and knew in an instant that James was going to die.

He didn’t cover his ears fast enough. The gunshot seemed to bounce around and rattle in his skull, and he scrunched his eyes shut, trying to make it stop. Through the ringing, he picked up Hans’ voice.

“Lady Mary!”

William opened his eyes and found his mother swaying beside him, a hand held out to shove James behind her. James looked stunned, and when William looked up he saw why. She removed the hand she held over her chest to reveal the bloody hole there and flexed her fingers curiously before her legs slid out under her and she fell rather ungracefully. James caught her, shaking her and saying something that was fading into the back of William’s mind.

Not now. Not now. He was losing his words again! But he had to say something.

He saw his father’s eyes widen in outrage and horror, he saw Hans drop his own gun and run to de Witt as if he’d been frightened. James was crying now, but William could tell he was trying to stop himself. Out of his frantic speech William could pick out names.

Mary...William...Mary...Mary...Mary...William.

When he walked over and fell to his knees beside his mother, she looked up from James’ arms, her gaze all on her son. She was saying something, wasn’t she? He had no idea. He shut his eyes and felt her hand run over his horn.

William, he heard her say through labored breaths. That was all he knew, and he wasn’t ever going to forgive himself for not hearing the rest.

When her hand fell still over him at last, he realized James was glaring at him. William cocked his head to the side, and James shoved him back against the ground and took the gun Hans had dropped. He turned as if he was about to point it at William, but then de Witt was shouting at him. His name was there again, and William thought maybe that meant he wanted him to go there. So he stood and ran over to de Witt.

James’ tail dropped behind him. He hesitated before he roared something out at them, his tears mixing with the blood that had fallen to his neck. De Witt turned and pushed William along with him, and the last thing he heard from James was his mother’s name.

Mama. He had to go back for her! He turned around and cried out, but de Witt caught him by wrapping an arm around his chest and holding him back. William kicked his legs out, desperately trying to push him off. He heard Hans’ name said from de Witt, and then that same man was holding him in his arms, whispering gently, slowly enough so William knew what it was.

“I’m so sorry, William. This isn’t the end. Your mother loved you very much. You have to keep going.”

“No,” he managed through his sobs. He hadn’t even realized he was crying. “I wanna go back.”

“Where?” “To her.”

“I know, William.” De Witt brought William’s head down to rest on his shoulder. “I know. I’ll be with you now, okay? I’m here.”

Normally seeing de Witt’s car would have made William’s heart jump with excitement, but now it only scared him. They were taking him away, taking him away from his mother.

His father hadn’t said a word. He lay in the backseat, and William saw him wince as he held a hand over his bleeding chest.

“I- I’m going to die,” he coughed out. “Too much blood, I’m drowning- in it.”

“No!” William leaped at him, trying to stifle his tears but failing. He buried his face in his father’s belly, realizing too late that this could be punished for insolence. But he didn’t care; he’d taken worse. At least if his father hit him, he’d know he was still alive.

But he only felt a hand smoothing down his hair, and he looked up slowly. His father was staring at him, and not in any way he understood.

“After this...it- it will be my last life,” he said. “Like I said, William...I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” William let out hurriedly before his father could go. “I’m sorry I left, Papa.” It was a stupid idea to think he could have been anything less than the Overlifer in the destiny his father had laid out for him. He was already almost there.

Just one more life and his father would be dead, and he would be alone. The realization shook him to the tip of his tail when before it would have brought him relief.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice shaking.

“You should be sorry. You...should be sorry.” His father’s eyes looked up to the sky and didn’t move again.

William turned away. He knew, logically, his father would return, but he wondered if the devils had become displeased enough with him that they would end it right here.

“William, sit over here,” de Witt said. “Next to Hans. Please.”

William nodded absently and sat beside Hans, right behind de Witt. He could hear Hans sniffling, his body shaking violently. Maybe he was cold. William sure was, even in his coat.

“I’m...sorry about your father,” he tried to say with a steady voice.

Hans wiped at his nose with his arm, looking up. “My family’s gonna hate me. They didn’t even say goodbye. I didn’t say goodbye, William, I- I don’t know what I’m gonna do!”

“We’ll get him back, Hans,” de Witt said, glancing at the boys from the rearview mirror. “When James doesn’t want to kill us as much.”

“Not alive,” Hans mumbled miserably. “He should have killed me too. He wanted to.” He buried his head in his arms, and William scooted closer, his tail waving over Hans’ shoulder. He didn’t know what to say, but he wanted to stop crying. He wanted Hans to stop crying.

“We- we always knew this would happen,” he began. “People die for us and- and for their Overlifers. Awful things will happen to us...it’s only a price, Hans, of the power we’ll have.” It was what his father had always told him, it was what he’d always told himself. It always worked for him; he could only hope it worked for Hans.

But it didn’t look good when even this couldn’t make him feel better. The price was too high.

“I don’t want this power, I don’t wanna be an Ally, I don’t- I don’t wanna do any of this!” Hans let out, his voice breaking. “I don’t want any power if I can’t fix things with it.” His eyes widened. “Wait, can you do that, William? Can Overlifers- can they bring people back to life? They can come back all they want!”

“I- I don’t know,” William admitted. “I hope they can.”

“Please, William, tell your father to bring mine back!” Hans begged. “Please, I don’t know- I don’t want to go on like- not like this- I’m not-” He brought William closer and wept into his shoulder, and William stared out the window.

We never should have left. His mother had only gotten herself killed and brought Hans’ father down with her.

No, he couldn’t forgive her. Not for this, and not for dangling this new life in front of him and making him want it. She was a traitor and she had died like one.

He would not be a traitor as well and grieve for her now, he decided. Instead he shut his eyes and wrapped his arms around Hans.

#six lives won't make you happy #hmm. much to think about #this was a little rough to write but i do love how it came out #everyone say hello to charles and james!!

4 notes · View notes