#and i just want to hold her and tell her everything will be okay and she doesnt need to be scared | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

almostfoxglove · 12 hours ago

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ALI FAKHSDJGKH okay it's taken me 100 years to reblog this but I WANTED TO QUOTE SO MANY PARTS IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE TO NARROW THEM DOWN. holy shit. this was??? EVERYTHING. like, this is the canon I needed - redemption for what could have been with Helena and fulfillment of every delusion I've ever had about this man. it felt so true to the world of the show and to javi I'm actually announcing this as Canon. sorry folks!! I don't make the rules!!

gonna pop some favorite bits under the cut :,) AH

“You switched your hair up today,” Javier notes one night, sipping his coffee and flicking off the ash of his cigarette, his eyes following the way your hair is pulled up loosely and framing your face, “looks good—good, I like it.”

lord help me I would not survive this I am NOT god's strongest warrior I am a puddle on the FLOOR this is him holding the secretary's finger and complimenting her nail polish all over again DSDKFHJK

“Are you really DEA?” You ask, his expression urging you to lower your volume as he takes a seat beside you, “Is that a lie?”

this is SO HEARTBREAKING ALI like what the FUCK oh my god. I feel like I can hear her and see her scared face and I'm going to cRY ABOUT IT

“I don’t think you want my opinion,” He answers vaguely, swiping the counter for his keys. “Just admit it,” You tease him with the words tossed over your shoulder as you grab for your jacket, “It’s fuckable.”

sdhkfjhaskjhgfa

“Mierda, your fucking hands—” He doesn’t even mean it in a sexual context, but the pressure you apply is perfect, pinpoint even, knuckles rolling against the base of his neck as his mouth opens, an embarrassing sound slipping beyond his lips as you chuckle softly, watching as he lifted his head in shame, “okay—okay, you’re done.”

OHHHHH, to take javier pena apart with a massage!! HOW I YEAAARRRN

“Yeah, pretty difficult,” You jest at his expense, his smile lines creasing as he grinned slightly, “I have this asshole in my apartment—annoyingly cocky, hates massages. God, the worst—”

I love them so much. she's so charming and brings out the CRINKLY EYES and I would die for them both ok ANY DAY ANY TIME

“Not much longer, chiquita,” Javier reminds, seeming to hear your discomfort immediately.

this is so !!!!! JAVI. saying it without saying it, ya know? that he sees her. I'm gonna cry brb

“Where did he touch you?” Javier asks casually, eyes closed as he pressed gentle kisses to the inside of your thigh, pushing your shirt up higher as you guided his hand over your hip and down toward your ass and squeezing gently. “There,” You admit before guiding his hand further up, alongside your ribs and around your back, another gentle squeeze before guiding his hand around and over your breasts, “and there—here,”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Javier promises, suddenly closer than you’ve ever known him to allow himself outside of sex, his finger drags along your chin and forces it up, looking at him, “¿Entiendes?”

MY HEART POUNDED SO HARD AT THIS PART I DONT THINK YOU UNDERSTAND

It’s just sex, you can hear the words before they roll off his tongue, ignoring your second question entirely. Tell me where he touched you.

*screams heard in the distance* *more wailing* *barking* *hollering*

“Baby, we have to go,” Javier urges, “I have to get you out.”

THE URGENT IN THE MOMENT NOT THINKING "BABY"??? MY PERSONAL KRYPTONITE?? ALI THIS WAS AN ATTEMPT ON MY LIFE

“It was a tracker,” You mumble eventually, “when he was feeling me up that night—it was because he was trying—well, he—he did, he put a—”

oh my god the pain of this realization fucking SLAPPED ME I just!! was there!! feeling her fear!! my chest is so TIGHT the angst is so GOOD

“I hope you’re okay, please come home.” It wasn’t a cry for help this time, but still a phrase that was special. A code, a message. A lifeline.

this was such a perfect ending. hopeful and soft but also still so javi!! and I'm obsessed with it. I've read this three times, oops. AND WILL DO IT AGAIN <3 all the ways you wove in the moodboard (THEIR LITTLE CODE PHRASE AHHHHH) are so fucking perfect and seamless. ugh. so good. thank you soso much for joining the challenge and sharing this fucking masterpiece with us, WE HAVE BEEN BLESSED. you are a talent and a gem and I adore you <3

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 | Javier Pena x reader

summary | Javier's a creature of habit, a man of opportunity, and you were unlucky enough to find him when he's at his most desperate.

author's note | written for @almostfoxglove angst challenge, i really hope i did this moodboard justice ghjfkd. thank you @amanitacowboy for reassuring me while writing this behemoth + translations are at the end.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, informant!reader, set through beginning of season 3 narcos to end, angst, smut, involvement with the cali cartel, paying for info and sex, javier's a gentleman i swear, gratuitous smut, jealous!javi, protected/unprotected piv, creampies, oral (f receiving), some vague violence toward the end, happy ending

word count — 10k

The new influx of customers has been an adjustment, used to the elder regulars with orders that never changed and people who were grabbing a bite after a late night shift, it left you flustered as you reached for the pen and paper shoved into your apron, smoothing out the cloth as you approach the group of men, carrying on their conversation without a care.

“El envío llega el domingo,” It was Friday, which meant whatever was coming in would be here in a couple days—they never said what, but it was always something.

And their eyes always eat you up, hair pulled back loosely as you greet them with a smile, taking down their order as they keep their sights locked on you and commenting on the swing of your hips and the curve of your ass as you depart.

Like rabid dogs, feral and hungry.

You’ve learned to catalog their conversation, catching onto a regular pattern of when things were coming in and out, knowing that whatever nefarious business they are involved in couldn’t be good—but they tipped well and that wasn’t lost on you.

It was almost a month of daily interaction when a new customer pops in, nearing midnight as he settles into his booth quietly, thin button-up stretching over his shoulders as he removed his jacket and tossed it into the space beside him, yellow tinted sunglasses tucked into his shirt, catching the ashtray with a single finger and lighting the cigarette already settled between his lips.

You attempt to greet him, lips parting before he interrupts you, barely acknowledging your presence as he spits out the order for a coffee, black. Dickhead, you think. The pen and paper is shoved away in your pocket and you swing your hips around the counter to fulfill his order with a side of spitefulness.

When you approached again, it was with a nauseatingly sweet smile.

“Can I get you anything else?” You ask, catching his eyes briefly as they flicker up before he shakes his head, a roar of laughter and slaps coming from the booth a few feet away, perking your eyes up at the subtle information they were sharing, scooting out of the both as they slapped a bill on the table, passing by with a vicious smirk that had your blood running cold, the graze of fingertips brushing against your ass that had you biting down on the inside of your cheek to steady yourself, nearly falling into the table as they pushed by.

The stranger perks up at that, his eyes trailing over your body with the same robotic motion as them, but with an air of curiosity, like he was examining you and your reaction.

“No—no, just the coffee,” He assures you, both of you watch as the group of men climb into their shared truck, “those your regulars?”

“Unfortunately,” You let slip without thinking, “I’m sure their boss would hate to hear how loud they talk about all transfers and shipments—can’t imagine it’s anything good.”

His eyes drag to your breasts, more pointedly toward the nametag pinned in your shirt.

He speaks your name before introducing himself, “Javier,” He addresses, turning to dig into his jacket before he pulls out a leather wallet, opening it to flash off his credentials, “DEA.”

“Oh–I’m…I’m not…involved with them, if that’s what you think…” You don’t know why the revelation has your nerves shot, but the fingers that wrap around your wrist ground you.

Javier has spent weeks—not a single lead or piece of evidence to follow. You were his saving grace, a goddamn miracle. He tugs lightly, pulling your attention to him.

“How often do they come in here?”

“Uh,” You blink rapidly, trying to think, “Um—three or four times a week, usually every other day.”

He speaks your name gently, his demeanor changing as he releases his hold on your wrist before he motions for you to sit, looking around briefly to assess how busy the restaurant was.

At this hour, it was only you and him.

You slide into the booth and place your palms against the table, fiddling nervously with your fingers, watching as he puffed at the cigarette a few times before placing it in the ashtray, followed by a generous sip of his coffee.

“Everything they’ve told you,” Javier begins, pointing his finger vaguely in your direction before he points down, fingertip pressing against the table, “tell me—not a detail spared.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as your mouth opens, tongue dragging against your bottom lip as you try to access the memory stored in the back of your brain before you remember the small, mostly indecipherable notes you had been taking.

You rip the wrinkled paper from your notepad and pass it over, his brow furrowing as he attempts to decipher the information and to your surprise, he does.

Unknowingly, you had captured a loose schedule they seemed to follow when they shipped things in and out, the day trading off as weeks passed, constantly changing to throw off suspicion, but eventually things overlapped and repeated.

Quietly, Javier pulls his wallet from his pocket and tosses over a wad of bills in your direction.

You stare at it blankly, eyes dragging up to his face as he nods toward the money.

“Should cover the coffee—and a tip.”

You reach for the money, pulling it apart to count, suspicious of the amount.

Prying the bills apart you count, eyes widening as the number rises.

“Sir—uh, Javier. This is…too much.”

“Not for the information,” He clarifies, peering cautiously over his shoulder, “If I come back every week can you promise more?”

You scoff lightly, pocketing the money regardless, “I can’t promise anything—besides, it’s always the same stuff. Just when things are coming and going, nothing more.”

“Can you get more?” Javier asks curiously, an eyebrow raising as he taps the ash off the cigarette and brings it to his lips, “Like, names—anything?”

“I can try, but—”

“I’ll pay.”

Unfortunately, waitressing was a shitty job.

And you were more than willing to allow Javier to turn you into his little informant.

You nod quietly.

His order changes depending on his mood.

He never orders food, usually coffee or whiskey.

Nothing less, nothing more.

And you do dig deeper, giving in to the absurd attempts at flirting and playing it up, allowing the occasional touches that make your skin crawl, returning them with fervor. Luckily, you had a strong stomach and handled it with ease, catching the names of the four that frequented the restaurant often, curiously asking about work and life, giving them vague or fake answers for your own when they pried.

“Three are single,” You tell Javier as you slide him a glass of whiskey neat, “desperately.”

Surprisingly, he chuckles at that. You’ve never heard it before.

It’s a nice sound.

“One is married, two kids.”

You pass him a piece of paper with names and information, trading off for the cash he transfers in return, pocketing it inconspicuously. He’s never there at the same time as them, so the weight on your shoulders is lifted, but the creeping feeling of being watched stays put.

“They like it down,” You retort with a forced smile as a customer passes by with a nod, “so—up it is.”

Conversation was always easy with Javier, his charisma oozes out without even trying. It was natural for him, casually taking your hand into his during a slow shift, examining the lack of jewelry.

“Could get you a fake one, if it would help,” Javier suggests.

Unless you already had one, of course. His eyes flick up in a silent question.

“I don’t think it would matter,” You admit, “If they want something, they’re going to get it.”

The routine continues like this for a while, until eventually, it doesn’t.

A new group of men come in one Friday, the other, and another, throwing you off kilter.

They started rotating them, keeping you on edge as the information is becoming harder to obtain despite your attempts to dig and frustrations arise in Javier, but never with you.

Sometimes they don’t even speak at all, hushed tones at the table unless you’re needed—but, occasionally they get messy. It’s usually the younger guys, inexperienced, fresh-faced, eager to please the big boss but riding on an uncapped power high.

One of the men gets particularly ostentatious, always coming in on a drunken stupor and slurred words, eyeing you like a piece of meat that he was eager to sink his teeth into. He slips you his number more than once, ignores your polite attempts at a subject change when the rest of the men are hyping him up, and rarely takes your refusal into consideration.

Eventually the fear that has built in you overflows, suspicion arising when you leave work a night after Javier had long departed, a night of very little information exchange outside of casual talk—and even that was forced, understanding how frustrated Javier had become.

One of the men had stuck around, only a brief crossover as Javier had stepped into the restaurant, his eyes tracking you the entire way out before you’re pulled in by Javier’s voice ordering his drink of the night, squeezing his shoulder gently in response.

You should have known better, you should have spoken up.

Javier would’ve done something then, but instead, you convince yourself to forget about that uncomfortable feeling that crept in. You knew what would help, biding your time until Javier left for the night, ignoring how he seemed to eye you too, but with a glazed over expression of worry.

There was a car you barely noticed, swallowed up by shadows and turning on as you drove down the road when you finally clocked out, the minutes dragging before you pulled into the parking lot of the chapel you had sped towards with a weight on your chest and a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You couldn’t recall that last time you had visited, but you were desperate now more than ever.

You needed solace.

Prayer comes naturally, dedicated to begging for protection over yourself, allowing the silence of the space to consume you as soft footsteps of other patrons walked by, just raising your chin as a hand clasps over your shoulder, nearly falling to your ass as you turn to connect the owner of the hand to a body.

“Javier?” You ask quizzically, “Did you follow me?”

“No?” He looks confused, answering with full honesty.

That twisting feeling in your gut sinks further, looking around briefly.

“I can provide protection,” Javier tells you, “if you need it.”

You stay quiet, chewing gently at your bottom lip, scanning the room for familiar faces.

“Something is wrong, isn’t it? I could sense it, back at the diner.”

There was only Javier, still mostly a stranger.

“Are you really DEA?” You ask, his expression urging you to lower your volume as he takes a seat beside you, “Is that a lie?”

“I spent a long time trying to take down Escobar, I find that kind of insulting, chiquita.”

He’s met with silence, understanding your need for reassurance.

“Yes, I am,” He tells you, his gaze unwavering, “I should’ve offered a protection detail to you from the jump, but I figured me being around often enough would work—did someone follow you here?”

“I don’t know, I kinda lost sight of them.”

You fall silent, staring at a crease in the denim of his jeans as you speak.

“Should I be worried?” You ask quietly, turning your body toward him, “Like—are they going to kill me?”

“They’re getting uneasy,” Javier responds vaguely, before assuring, “Not because of you.”

“I should…I should tell you,” You take a breath, “One of them invited me to a party, I have his number. I told him I would have to work some things out, but I never…”

“Was it this weekend?” Javier asks suddenly, the lines in his forehead creasing at the mention.

“Yeah—yeah, why—”

“Say yes,” Javier urges, “I’ll keep you safe.”

It was a big promise, but Javier’s pleading eyes worked like a spell.

“This is gonna cost, Javier.”

“Name your price, hermosa.”

–

Javier’s touch is white-hot, cigarette tucked between his lips as he brushes your hair behind your ear and presses the in-ear monitor inside, hiding it behind the gaudy jewelry attached to your ear and adjusts your hair back over, stepping back and raking his eyes over your frame casually, pinching the cigarette from his lips with his thumb and pointer finger as he blows the smoke out.

“It’s small enough they won’t notice but try and keep it covered,” He tells you, his free hand shoved into his front pocket as his presence fills your apartment, moving around sheepishly under his gaze, “I’ll be a few minutes away, if anything goes south I’ll get you out.”

You stumble slightly slipping on your heels, caught by his tight grip as he steadies you.

“Sorry—I’m freaking out,” You admit, looking away nervously as his grip loosens but doesn’t leave, firm around your bicep as you sleep your other foot inside the hell, “Th—thank you.”

“You smoke?” Javier asks causally as you stand.

“Not really,” You respond, “Occasionally, I guess. It’s probably more social, if I’m being honest.”

He plucks the cigarette from his mouth and offers it to you, placing it between your lips as you take a small puff without thinking or being told, an effective way to calm your nerves as you focused on the action as he points toward the cigarette, “Don’t drink or smoke anything they give you tonight,” Javier warns, “communication works both ways, I need you coherent.”

He pulls the cigarette away and places it between his own lips again.

The nicotine stings your throat and chest, giving you a noticeable distraction that calms your mind. “How do I look?” You force a tight smile, twirling on your feet as the dress clung to your curves, a soft, velvet red, “Fuckable, I hope. Otherwise I’m not getting anything out of them.”

Javier snorts at that, brow creasing at your crudeness.

“I don’t think you want my opinion,” He answers vaguely, swiping the counter for his keys.

“Just admit it,” You tease him with the words tossed over your shoulder as you grab for your jacket, “It’s fuckable.”

“Yeah, sure,” He mumbles around the cigarette between his lips, “fuckable.”

The way the word rolls of his tongue is visceral, ignoring the pulse between your legs at the vibrato in his voice and the chuckle that follows—regardless, it helped ease your nerves.

–

It’s loud, sweaty, and overwhelming.

You thought they would choose something less…obvious.

But, it was becoming more and more clear how much of the town was under the Cali Cartel’s payroll, learning more and more information as Javier shared it with you in bits and pieces, your curiosity getting the better of you.

The idea was to mingle, drifting far enough away from your date that you might happen upon one of Javier’s more meaningful targets, not going as far as to infiltrate the heads, but someone damaging if you sunk your teeth in.

You quickly come upon the realization that most of the men are confusing you with entertainment, rather than being a guest, quickly side-stepping the hands that reach for you as you squeeze your way toward the bar, sliding into an empty seat with a breath of relief.

“They are animals,” The voice beside you speaks—belonging to a man who was scientifically handsome; oddly perfect, hair perfectly coiffed and mused into place, a perfect set of teeth hidden behind plush lips and piercing green eyes—you had memorized the face in the picture Javier had shown you, “¿Cómo te va? ¿Lo estás pasando bien?”

You almost forget he’s talking to you for a moment, staring up at him distractedly before Javier’s voice speaks softly in your ear, “Answer him, chiquita. He’ll get suspicious.”

“Oh, yes,” You answer quickly, moving in closer to converse over the roar of music and the heavy buzz of strobe lights flashing overhead, “I seem to have lost my date, though.”

“Don’t worry,” He smirks, “I will keep you company.”

It does take a few drinks and you nursing your own, but you play into the act of being a mere accessory on the mysterious man’s arm, allowing him to drag you around the club with no real path to follow, eventually ending up with a smaller group of men huddled away in a corner, standing dutiful and quiet as the men talk amongst themselves in obscure words, almost like a code.

“I can’t—I can’t hear them,” Javier’s speech is garbled, drown out by the music as you squint at the pain of the feedback in your ear, “can’t—hurry—”

Eventually, you find an opening to excuse yourself.

“Hermosa,” The voice freezes you in place, but the touch is gentle, surprisingly, “I would like to see you again, outside of here—”

You quickly ramble off the name of the diner, attempting to pull away, but not before a kiss is pressed against the front of your hand, feeling the heat burn through your skin like a brand before you’re slipping through the crowd, unable to take a deep breath until you’re outside.

You walk the distance to where Javier had parked originally, finding him buried deep in a conversation with someone who had pulled up in another car, hands curled around the driver’s side window, his head turning as he heard the distinct click of your heels.

“Fuck,” He curses, approaching you with his hands hovering around you—not touch or prodding, almost hesitant to cross that boundary unless it was absolutely needed, “are you alright?”

“Yeah,” You answer confused, nose scrunching up as you peered around him at the unknown agent, his window rolling up before he drove off, “what’s that about?”

“We think someone might have jammed the comms—there’s no way to know, it could have been the club itself, one of the agents is going to look into it—”

“Can you drive me home?” You interrupt suddenly, rubbing at the spot on your hand that the man had kissed, feeling dirty, “I’m full up on being felt up tonight and I want to change.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Javier replies after a moment of hesitation, “let’s go.”

You rip the device from your ear the moment the passenger door closes.

–

Javier places your heels against the floor as you walk barefoot into your apartment, a simple but kind gesture as your belongings scattered against your kitchen counter, fingers dragging through the front of your hair and back as you smeared your makeup in the process.

“Oh, the uh—the code,” You remember suddenly, “something about a bridge, as the sun rises…something with water. The guy, the picture you showed me. He approached the four you told me were important. I don’t think they liked me being there, but I also think they assumed I was too ignorant to remember a few words.”

Javier pauses, hands digging into his hips as he paces near your door.

“Do you want a beer?” You ask curiously, the furrow in his brow sinking deep as he attempts to decipher the code, he nods silently.

You figured with the information bestowed he would leave, but instead he stays, sipping at his beer for over an hour as you watch him move, his brain working things out in real time.

He’s beside you know, hands pressed into the counter as he pushed his body away, staring down at his feet as he repeated the words aloud, but quietly, like a murmur.

“Are you sure they aren’t distributing right under your nose?”

Javier’s head tilts to the side as he looks at you, confused by your analogy.

You stare out your window for a moment, curtains pushed open, the gray luminescence of the moon illuminating the inky night sky, “I mean, they’re obviously paying people off, always partying at clubs—wait, the bridge and water,” A thought pops into your head, grabbing Javier by the hand before you’re pulling him to your apartment window, “what if they’re meeting on boats? I mean, not to say that’s how it’s getting it in, but—”

“That…makes sense,” Javier says, void of any distinct emotion as he takes a long chug of his beer before placing it on the ledge of the window, rubbing at the shoulder of his opposite arm.

“Annoyed you didn’t think about it first?” You tease, turning to tilt your head at him like he had earlier.

“Hadn’t gotten that far yet, we’re still trying to put the pieces together,” He grimaces at the tightened muscles, rolling his neck as his hands settle back against his hips, “that’ll help, though.”

“Sit down,” You urge him, pointing toward your couch and Javier looks at you with dull amusement before you’re urging him again with your insistent finger, eventually he relents.

Immediately, you round the back of the couch and allow your fingers to dig into his shoulder, working out the soreness with deft fingers, “Shit—you don’t have to,” Javier begins to protest before your hand is curling around the back of his head and pushing it forward, molding him to how you needed him positioned as your fingers dig in deep, “that’s, fuck, that’s…shit, right there.”

His voice is pure erotica, but it makes your lips curl in amusement. It was that pathetic desperation you heard so often from the men you served daily—that slight pitch to their tone as they tried to grab your attention, but with Javier, he’s completely detached.

His hands were tucked between his legs, head resting forward as you dug in with a strong, pointed touch, his groan reverberating down his spine.

“Oh, come on,” You tease, “I was just getting started.”

Javier shakes his head and stifles the laughter in his chest, resting against your couch as his hands circle the beer in his grasp, looking up at your face, tilted down toward his own as your fingers curl around the back of the couch, straps slipping down your shoulders in your relaxed state.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Javier checks, given you’ve had a proper amount of time to wind down from the adrenaline of being inside the club surrounded by dealers and potential kingpins.

He’s worried. He barely knows you and he’s still worried.

“It’s a rush,” You admit candidly, “But, I’m pretty resilient, Javier. Work is work. I’ve dealt with worse assholes on the job, I’m good at putting on a face when I need to.”

“What about now?” Javier asks curiously, eyes exploring your morphing expression of amusement to bashfulness, the way he’s staring at you outright, words unspoken.

“Yeah, pretty difficult,” You jest at his expense, his smile lines creasing as he grinned slightly, “I have this asshole in my apartment—annoyingly cocky, hates massages. God, the worst—”

He doesn’t like the way this job winds him up, the tension taught in his spine and unrelenting, staring up at you with a tinge of a buzz from the alcohol and the sight of your sloping breasts spilling out of your dress.

He’s used to driving miles and miles for peace of mind and a nice body to sink into, but you’re here, you’re smiling at him and he’d be damned to refuse the opportunity you’re presenting to him, leaning down as his hand comes up without thinking, twisting in your hair as his head turns to meet yours at the same angle, placing his beer down in the same instance.

“The fucking worst,” He echoes, his hands crawling up the edge of your dress as you climb over the couch with his guidance, speaking through rushed exchanges of lips, his hot, beer-tainted breath against your skin as he situates the dress up at your hips, straddling him without a second thought, “you were right about the dress—”

“Fuckable,” You both agree in unison, sighing audibly at the kiss he places to your chin, neck, shoving his face between the valley of your breasts as you work silently at his jeans, the clang of his buckle, metal against metal as you loosen it enough to free his straining cock, his breath catching as you wrap your fingers around the velvety skin of his shaft.

“M-My wallet,” He chokes out, muffled as your tongue dips into his mouth, stop briefly to savor the touch as his hands cups your face, eventually drifting into your hair in a similar manner to earlier but then he’s tugging, “got—got a condom.”

“Of course you do,” You snort in merriment, “is that—is that what we’re doing?”

Javier nods eagerly, never separating more than a millimeter from your lips as you stare at him, his eyes staring right back, searching your expression for any minute twitch of deception.

When Javier fits himself inside of you it is with a broken grunt, a curse under his breath, and a hand squeezing tight at your hip, fingers digging into the bunched up cloth as he wraps his opposite arm around your back, pulling you toward him with a sharp snap of his hips.

You gasp, falling over the back of the couch as your hands grasped at the surface in desperation, the start of a quick but all consuming pace of his hips, his lips mouthing at your skin; arms, fingers, even over your ribs, biting gently through the velvety fabric of your dress, stifling his shaky moans, attempting to avoid the glaringly obvious fact that he hasn’t been able to release his stress like this in weeks.

A willing participant, a body, convenience.

Deep down, you know.

But, you found yourself in the same mix of issues.

Regardless, you both ignore it.

–

Javier is gone by morning—or, what is left of it.

The exhaustion of the night and the sex catching up to you, coming undone on his cock as he gripped your ass, feeling the bruises he’d left in the process and remembering the soft, filthy words of encouragement he had whispered against your skin as you came.

He even locked your apartment and slipped the key under the crack in the door, stumbling toward the glinting gold piece on the ground and the folded up note on the ground, eyebrow creasing at the sight as you kneel to the ground, adjusting your dress hastily. You squint to read the hastily written note.

Got a lead. Money is for last night.

You peel the paper open and spot the money inside, eyes widening as you slowly realize that this was far more than he’s given you before, nearly double the first time, slowly you fold the paper back over and check the back, inspecting the item as a whole before you notice the writing on the back.

We should do it again sometime, chiquita.

You look up at the door slowly, at the cash, before peering over your shoulder at the couch, still indented with sleep and a blanket strewn carelessly over the cushions.

He paid you for sex. He’d made it transactional.

There’s a brief moment where you’re stricken with offense, half the mind to track him down and chew him out, but you remember how your exchange started and ultimately how it would end.

Plus, it was half your rent paid for from the result of the type of sex you haven’t allowed yourself to have in far too long, disconnected from feeling and fully freeing.

Besides, it must be a regular thing for Javier and you couldn’t even blame him.

He was only doing his job.

–

A protection detail does work for a brief time, at least, it eases some of your worry.

It was a younger agent, Javier had told you, little to no responsibility outside of keeping his eyes on you and reporting back when necessary. As some of the leads start to blossom, Javier appears less and less, but still follows through on his payments when you have information to exchange, even if it’s only a name or time of day for something.

You do find the boldness to ask him about the money he’d forked over for sex, flowing lightly into conversation as he gives you a recount of his time with Escobar after a night of curiosity and lacking customers drags you into the booth beside him.

Always taking careful note of any personal tidbits he would offer. You knew he wasn’t married or that, at the very least, he was an expert at hiding it. No kids, no spouse, no baggage.

“Is it hush money?” You ask bravely, counting through your tips for the night as he sips gingerly at the glass half full of whiskey, “Because if so, I wasn’t going to tell anyone anyways.”

His brow creases, confused for a brief second before you mouth the words.

My couch, the sex.

“Didn’t want things getting confusing,” Javier admits, “If it’s any consolation, the sex was good.”

“You’re too complicated for me anyways,” You snort softly, separating the bills accordingly as you glance over at him briefly, a soft hum in his throat as his lips wrap around the edge of his glass as he downs the rest of the liquor, “Was it a one time thing?”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Javier admits, “figured I should draw the line early—you aren’t offended are you? Because if you need me to remind you how good it—”

As you finish, dragging the money into one pile, you shrug, “I’m off in thirty.”

The sway of your hips as you exit the booth and head toward the back of the restaurant is enough to have Javier suffering half-hard in his jeans, legs widening as he inconspicuously rubs his palm over the denim to adjust himself, awaiting the small nod of your head around the corner that comes half an hour later.

–

Javier is efficient, you learn.

What first starts off as a casual trade turns into pure, unrestrained stress relief.

It bleeds into work for both of you, finding time to drag him off into the back office when you knew it was available, fucking over the desk with any empty kitchen and diner as the hours waned into the early morning and everyone was either on break or asleep.

You never offer up much about yourself, very little about your life before moving to Colombia or why you’ve stuck around for so long—but he does know you’re disconnected from your family almost entirely, completely alone.

He has a huge family back in Laredo, people that clearly care about him, catching him on the phone with his father one night as they bickered lightheartedly, something about Javier needing to find time to vacation sooner rather than later.

When you have sex at your apartment, he always smokes afterwards, whether in your bed or by the open window in your living room, always careful about the barrier of clothing that remains, never entirely naked in front of one another.

He doesn’t look at you either, won’t kiss you further than something quick—a wet, sloppy exchange of tongues as he fucks into you from behind, pulled back tight to his chest as his hand strains and squeezes around your neck to turn your head toward him.

And he never stays, doesn’t stay hung up on goodbyes.

He waits until you’re asleep, places the money at your bedside, and leaves.

But, there is a moment when you hear the tone in his voice switch, almost offended.

You’re both naked from the waist down and he’s thrusting into you lazily as his lips latch onto the section where your neck meets your shoulder, recounting the details that you’ve learned today, easily killing two birds with one stone.

He mentioned something earlier that night about a bust gone wrong, chewing frustratedly at his bottom lip as he spoke more with his eyes than his words before you had dragged him toward the back.

“Benny offered to take me on a date,” You address lightly, voice hitched as Javier used his palm against the inside of your thigh to spread it wider before it curls around the back of your knee and pulls up high over his lip, “he bought me an outfit and everything.”

He racks through the catalog of names in his brain.

Benny. Benny…Benito?

He wasn’t aware he’d spoked the name out loud until you’re responding with a soft acknowledgement as the desk bangs against the wall, your hand flattening out behind you for support, “Yes—same thing. I’m sure it’s for the—”

“The gala, yeah.”

He had spent the past few weeks trying to approach a way to get inside, knowing that this would be an opportunity to track the ever-expanding tree of sellers and suppliers, a front for the obvious drug trade that was happening, as you phrased it, right under his nose.

The boat lead had only gotten them so far, knowing that there was much more nefarious shit going on that he was grasping at straws to collect off of, using you as his main source of information.

He knows it’s dangerous, but damn were you good at it.

“When did that c—come up?” Javier asks, grunting into your neck as his orgasm creeped in, his fingers drifting expertly over your clit as they had a dozen times before.

“Couple weeks ago,” You reply casually, both you falling into your eventual orgasms and only hearing him speak as he’s already disposed of his condom and was buttoning his jeans up.

“When were you gonna tell me that?”

It feels like a heavy weight on your chest, the clear betrayal in his voice coming from absolutely nowhere, immediately forcing you into defense mode as you sneer at him, adjusting your top back into your jeans as you tie your apron around your waist.

“I’m telling you now,” You retort, “I wasn’t even sure he dropped the clothes off here yesterday.”

It couldn’t have been that crucial of a detail, given that the gala wasn’t happening for another week according to the information that had been figured out.

Javier looks stiff suddenly, shoving his wallet into his back pocket before your hand is twisting around his bicep and shoving him back until he faces you.

“Is there something you need to say?” Your eyebrows raise slightly, expectant of the harsh words that were bound to be slung your way.

“I’m paying for information—honesty, too.”

“Yeah, well, you’re also paying to have sex with me.”

Javier isn’t sure why he feels it—it isn’t jealousy, necessarily. Just betrayal, that over the last few months you didn’t feel comfortable enough to share the information with him immediately, weary of the temptations of the cartel and the idea that they could pull you in, flip you against him.

He worries for your safety and well-being, knowing that he would be the one living with that guilt if anything happened to you. You were a friend at the very least, something few and far between for Javier after Steve had left. If he wasn’t at work or his own apartment, he was with you.

Javier forces a breath through his nose and huffs, eyes flicking toward you intensely.

“It’s important to know this shit, so we can prepare.”

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, alright? It’s not like I’m keeping secrets. I’m sure you could do your research on me if you wanted, if you haven’t already. I have nothing to hide and nothing to gain, Javier.”

His shoulders relax slightly, widening as he puffs his chest out and takes a breath, “Yeah, but they have plenty to gain from you—we have to stay ahead.”

Always one step ahead.

–

The gala comes and goes without much preamble—and you know you’re serving as mostly arm candy, dressed scantily as you hand on the arm of a man you barely know, paraded around as a prize he’s won and showing off to his friends, but he’s surprisingly respectful.

Or, biding his time. You couldn’t tell.

You don’t force off his small advances, a gentle touch or something too close for comfort as he lips pressing against the shell of your ear, whispering something you don’t pay much attention to as you survey the event, spotting a flurry of faces familiar and unfamiliar, picking up on names and information as it arises.

Javier could still hear everything on his end with the small, nearly invisible communication device shoved into your ear, hidden underneath your hair similar to last time, careful of which side you allowed Benny on.

“My boss is sending us on vacation soon,” You didn’t pay much attention, but Javier was, “could be fun, if you wanted to go—I could talk to him, he’d like you.”

Perfect. Useful. You can already hear the words that would float around if the opportunity arises. You prayed it would never get that far.

“Change the subject,” Javier says tensely, knowing you were traversing into dangerous territory.

“I’m sure your boss won’t mind, I’ll talk to him, too,” You can feel the smirk over your shoulder before you turn, wondering if he had ever met the owner of the diner or he was purely assuming, regardless, you laugh it off quietly.

“I have to stick around and keep things going, they wouldn’t survive without me,” You switch gears easily, “I don’t see you often, just your friends—why don’t you come around more?”

He’s only appeared a couple times and both were brief, first to ask you to the gala and then to give you the dress, almost like he’d rather avoid the place entirely. You were careful of giving him any personal information outside of where you worked, knowing that it wasn’t already accessible information.

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t think it’s about what I want, is it?” You retort playfully, a smirk growing on his face as his thumb slides over your chin, careful how deep of a jab you make, “It’s up to you.”

Benito’s hand rubs over the back of your dress and down, fingers modeling against the loose wrinkles in the fabric as he moves over the curve of your ass and squeezes, a small squeak escaping your lips as you bite down at the inside of your cheek, ignoring the knee-jerk reaction to elbow him in the stomach.

“Not much longer, chiquita,” Javier reminds, seeming to hear your discomfort immediately.

The next hour drags painstakingly slowly, but eventually Benito drops you off at the diner at your insistent request, despite his pressuring you to invite him back to your apartment.

When you step into the threshold of your living room, Javier is already opening up the dinner had ordered at your subtle request earlier that evening, a smug smile on his face as you shake your head in exhaustion, sleeping over you hills in and instant and half-way stripping out of your dress before you even make it to your bedroom.

Javier grins in amusement as you thrust the device that you rip out of your ear into his chest, quietly tucking it away on the table as he prepares the food.

You’re dressed for comfort when you return, a shirt reaching beyond your thighs as you settle the bare skin against the barstool, underwear peeking out as you sit, immediately shoveling the food into your mouth.

You ramble out the names you caught onto, watching as Javier scribbled them down, rubbing at your temples to soothe the growing headache as you finish up your food and shove it aside, eventually slumping against the counter as you groan weakly.

You can feel Javier’s hand graze your knee, squeezing gently at your thigh, a silent invitation.

“I’m so tired, Javi,” You admit, “You can keep your cash, don’t worry. The whole thing was a bust, anyways.”

The chair creaks as Javier leans toward you, whispering against your ear, “Ven aqui,” He beckons as he pulls at your arm, guiding you silently to your room, half-expecting him to tuck you into bed and leave, but then he’s guiding you backwards toward the mattress and spreading out between your legs on the duvet as he removes your underwear, your lips forming into a subtle pout until he’s splitting you open with his tongue, a gasp escaping at the sudden sensation, fingers twisting into his hair roughly.

“Javi, what are you doing?” You inquire—it was new, a careful line drawn between you both earlier on that it was strictly sex, disconnection, but now he was trying to leave the impression of his tongue against your cunt as he devoured you all at once, squeezing at your thighs to spread them open further, a sated expression on his face that had to be a mix of his own exhaustion, delirious with want.

“There,” You admit before guiding his hand further up, alongside your ribs and around your back, another gentle squeeze before guiding his hand around and over your breasts, “and there—here,” You squeeze down tightly as your eyes fall shut, his mouth sucking over your clit as your back arches off the bed.

You come faster than you expect and had you known his mouth was so talented, you would have suggested this earlier, but through the waning of your orgasm you feel his tongue drifting over your skin in the wake of his previous touches, lapping at the salty skin before his tongue eventually finds the way toward your breast, swirling around the sensitive skin as your nipple hardens against his mouth, innately curious of his actions but not voicing them.

There was never any predicting with Javier, figuring that maybe he needed a little more distraction tonight, but as your orgasm dissipates and the hand in his hair stays, he never moves, only a low rumble to his breathing as you attempt to catch your own breath before you’re slowly leaning up and realizing his eyes were shut and he had fallen asleep.

Whatever was ailing him had finally taken hold, able to squirm away through his heavy sleep before you’re draping a blanket over his frame, still dressed from the day.

You can’t find the courage inside yourself to disturb him as he took up half of your bed, opting for the couch in the off-chance he woke up in the middle of the night to you beside him, stirring up another list of issues you didn’t feel like dealing with.

–

Surprisingly, you wake before him. The sky barely fading out of night as you stir, rising from the couch as the bulky phone on the counter—it was Javier’s, you knew that.

But still, you answer it. It couldn’t hurt, just tell them to leave a message.

Instead, as you hear the familiar voice on the other end, you find yourself pulled into an unsuspecting conversation with his father that drags into the morning hours as the sun rises, meandering over breakfast before you here him stirring in the other room, trying to ignore how pleasant but telling the conversation with Javier’s father was as you place the phone down on the counter and begin cooking breakfast, silently, still half-dressed in the clothes from the night prior, minus your underwear strewn somewhere on your bedroom floor.

He’d asked how Javier was doing when you told him your name, surprised that he was familiar with you, learning that Javier had spoken about you to him, though briefly.

Probably in passing, maybe. You try not to dwell on it.

“He seems fine,” You told him, “Busy, though.”

He’s always busy, he tells you. Cuidar a mi hijo.

He was worried, rightfully so. But, Javier was an adult, his own person.

He wasn’t your responsibility and you weren’t his.

And you try to ignore the strange sensation in your chest at the immediate elation from his father hearing your name, like an old family friend hearing from you for the first time in years, even though you knew very little of his father.

You’ve learned enough about Javier, at least. His likes and dislikes, vague interests that he commented on, the grimace in his face that would grow deeper the harder he got stuck on something, a thought or idea.

Javier clears his throat as he enters the kitchen, avoiding your gaze as you slide the meat and eggs onto two separate plates before passing it to him.

“You could have woke me up,” He said, looking up at you briefly with mused hair, his shirt wrinkled from sleep.

“Your father called,” You ignored his comment, “you should call him back.”

“You talked to him?” Javier asks blankly, no distinct emotion shining through.

“For, like, half a second,” You lie, “I just told him you were asleep.”

He didn’t need to know his father’s worry or how much he’d given away about what he knew of you, secrets that were obviously meant to be kept between them, but as Javier chews with thought, eager to break the lingering silence, he asks.

“He mentioned it, didn’t he?”

You shrug your shoulders cluelessly, “I think you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“That I’ve talked about you, or at least, he knows who you are.”

“It’s none of my business, really.”

“He hears you, at the diner—he’s nosey. I’ve mentioned you in passing. I just…I know how he gets, I don’t want you thinking anything is going on,”

“I’m not paid to think, Javier,” You tell him.

It’s disparaging, his nose scrunching up slightly at your words and the emptiness with which you throw them. This is where he always seemed to fuck up, distinguishing work from his life but somehow maintaining the balance of peace and humanity.

Do you want to explain last night? You mind screamed, but instead you offer him his coffee, the usual black with minimal or no sugar, giving him the option as you slide the mug and container in his direction. He fishes blindly for his wallet but your hand stops him.

You sigh, “That’s not—I wasn’t implying you need to now. I—I just think we should maybe reframe what we’re doing, given that things have…progressed,” The word lingers on your tongue while you bite at your bottom lip. “I’m worried they might find out where I live or about you—or the fact that I’m literally helping the DEA catch them and praying can only do so much and I’m here alone—”

“Hermosa, slow down,” Javier urges, shoving his wallet back into his pocket at your guidance and avoiding the obvious domesticity of having slept overnight in your apartment and ate the breakfast you cooked him.

It was in his nature to care, to a degree. It was his downfall sometimes, to a devastating fault. He striked while you were vulnerable and roped you into his own mess, now paying for it with guilt that had seeped into his personal life, spending the entire night prior picturing how Benito was handling you, how he could step in—how it could have been him instead.

“She doesn’t sound like work,” His father had told him a week ago, returning a flirtatious quip as you had passed him his usual coffee and offered him a light for his cigarette after his hadn’t worked, that sort of boyish tone in his voice that his father picked up on in a second.

The lines had blurred with Helena after a while, a similar circumstance that he continued to find himself in—paying for info, paying for sex, attempting to make it impersonal. But, here you were, staring at him with wide, fearful eyes, and he didn’t know how to fix the mess he had made.

He couldn’t see you hurt or send you into danger like he had with Helena, the helpness he’d felt as he discovered her near lifeless body, covered in blood and bruises after she had been beaten and traded around—it couldn’t happen, it wouldn’t.

–

Javier returns with a phone later that day, similar to his with his number attached to a piece of paper he shoves into your hand as he directs you to pack a bag in the case of an actual emergency, something quick to grab that you wouldn’t have to second guess about.

“You’re making it seem like I should be leaving now,” You tell him, taking the items he passes into your hand as you fold a stack of clothes and toiletries into the bag.

Javier shakes his head, “It’s better be safe,” He explains, “I…doubt—I don’t think they would be. We have someone listening around the clock, people on the inside, there haven't been any red flags.”

“What if something does? What if I can’t reach you?”

“I hope you’re okay, please come home.” He tells you simply, your face contorting in confusion. “It’s a code—a phrase only you and I know. If you use that, it means danger. Through a note, or that phone. I just have to hear it.”

You zip the bag up in silence, feeling the weight of the web you had tangled yourself in finally settling, curious if you would be back at square one, fleeing to a different country to escape your problems.

You nod, a subtle motion but Javier sees it.

“Javier, we should talk,” You echo once more, though with different meaning, “about last night.”

“I’ll still pay, hermosa—that isn’t a problem.”

You could handle the way it was eating at you.

“No, I mean—I mean why did last night happen? Why is your dad telling me to keep you safe?”

His face hardens at the mention of his father.

It’s just sex, you can hear the words before they roll off his tongue, ignoring your second question entirely.

Tell me where he touched you.

“You started this, you know?” You remind him, “You made this transactional.”

Was he scared of you?

Eerily silent he remains, you speak for him.

“I’m not a whore either, so if that is how you view me—I really don’t want your help at all.”

The keys in hand are gripped tight as you chance a glance toward the floor, his body entirely unmoving, his eyes downturned and staring in a similar direction, almost like he couldn’t find the words.

I”m not asking you to give a shit about me, but—”

His answer is a kiss, searing and intense, keys tossed to your bed as his fingers dive into your hair, curling around your head as you make a sound of surprise, steadying yourself as you grip his biceps and stumble backwards, tripping over the dress you had stripped yourself of last night.

You still hadn’t dressed from earlier, his hands flattening against your hips as he molds the soft flesh under his grip, his teething biting into your bottom lip as he murmurs, “Belt, get my belt,” without question, your fingers go to work, ripping the leather away in a practiced motion as you continue to unbutton his jeans, “—think I don’t give a shit, are you fucking insane?”

“A little,” You jest, “I mean—I’m helping you, aren’t I?”

This felt strangely vulnerable, his fingers pulling at your shirt with a deliberate endgame.

Naked in the natural lighting of your room, his fingers reaching for his own shirt as you work his jeans down his hips, appreciating his tanned skin as it shines with a thin layer of sweat. Despite the sticky heat that permeated throughout your apartment, his touch is cooling, comforting even.

“Another freebie?” You tease him further, hearing him snort as he reaches for his wallet and crowded you on the mattress, opening the tight leather before he grabs a wad of cash and shoves it into the sheets before tossing his wallet aside and diving between your breasts.

“Making me a poor man,” Javier retorts, peeking up through your tits as he squeezed them in his grip, mouthing delicately along the skin, “shit—but this, s’fuckin’ priceless.”

“I’m—fuck, I’m kidding, Javier. I don’t want your money. Never wanted it.”

It had always been about convenience, never expecting things to end up like this.

It was a mess, both of you were.

He’s seeing all of you, for once, and you him.

And you know he needs, wants, without saying.

He fucks you slow, legs hitched around his hips as buries his head into the space beside yours, only rising as your noises grow with intensity, the bluntness of your nails digging into his skin.

“Inside,” You beg, “inside of me, Javi.”

He moans pathetically, lips squished against your cheek as his hips falter.

“Yeah?” He grunts, “Can I?”

You giggle airly at his question, nodding fervently.

“Mierda,” He curses brokenly, groaning softly into your skin as he pumps himself inside of you, the warmth of his cum filling you to the brim, oozing out as his hips slow, his hands kneading into your skin as he rests, breathing rapidly against your chest.

“We should—should talk, Javier.” You tell him again, after a moment of silence. “Like, really talk—you know?”

Javier hums in acknowledgment, “Tonight—give me until tonight, okay?”

Tonight was good enough, for now.

–

The first thing you feel when you rouse from sleep is pain.

White-hot and persistent, restrained by your hand as they’re tucked behind your back. You feel more hands, the sound of stiff leather and the smell, overwhelming as it invades your senses.

“I see why he keeps you around,” The voice comes from behind, eyes bleary as you blink before the hand in your hair grips tight, only catching the fist coming at you from your peripheral before your world goes dark.

When you wake again, you’re upright and in a chair, head slung back uncomfortable as you attempt to stretch, feeling heavy and groggy as you move, remembering the moment from earlier you become alert within seconds, eyes searching around frantically as you spot two men.

They were strangers, faces covered, but obviously sent here for a reason.

“Benny thought he could get it out of you,” The man says dismissively, “you foreigners—stupid, messy, predictable.” He grabs the fabric of your dress and plucks the small, miniscule device from the fabric that you missed, squinting to see it before the man breaks it between two fingers and tosses the dirtied fabric aside.

“We got her to ourselves, plenty of time to—”

“No,” The other man replies sternly to the obvious subservient man, “her boss—that’s what we came here for.”

“My boss?” You croak eventually, “At the diner? What do you want with—”

The gun he pulls from his back silences you in an instant. He reaches for the phone on the counter, the yellow sticky note still attached, “That him?”

“It’s mine,” You reply with ease, “I’m forgetful and—”

Your throat swells as he ignores you, dialing the number.

You hadn’t let the reality of the situation settle until you heard Javier’s voice on the other end, careful to not give anything away as his voice comes across more energetic than usual. They didn’t seem upset at the lie, but the finger on the trigger squeezed slightly as his voice came through, a silent order to play along.

“Hola, chiquita,” Javier greets smoothly, “¿Todo bien?”

You laugh softly, “Yes—yeah.”

You know what they want, what they need.

“I hope you’re okay, please come home.” You beg, voice unwavering as you stare the two men down, both of them seeming satisfied by your ploy to get Javier to the apartment without much argument.

The line falls dead without a response, the phone tosses aside to the floor as it shatters into pieces.

Unfortunately, they weren’t going to get it easily.

–

You wished you could warn him.

One wrong move and the blade at your throat, the gun to your head—they would be your undoing.

You stared blankly at the broken lock and hinge of your door, footsteps approaching as you whimpered, the sharpness of the knife pressing against your skin as Javier whips around the corner and into the apartment.

The white-hot pain returns as you’re met with the butt of the gun, slumping from the chair as chaos whirls around you, curled up on the floor and crawling desperately away from danger as someone screams, gargling as it sounds, probably on their own blood.

You couldn’t look back, breathing panickedly as you hid behind the couch and huddled in on yourself, a gun going off unexpectedly as your ears ring, gasping as you hear the sound of a blade puncturing skin once, twice, before it clamers to the floor.

You wait a moment, although it feels like eternity, expecting the cold press of a gun against the back of your skull, but instead it was a hand and eventually another, the faint smell of a familiar cologne that brought you comfort and warmth.

“Baby, we have to go,” Javier urges, “I have to get you out.”

Out?

You look up, his eyes wild but lacking any indicators of violence.

“It isn’t safe here.” He reiterates, “Can you walk?”

You nod weakly, feeling his hand wrap around your waist as he assists you in rising to your feet, still discombobulated and wobbly, he sticks by your side as you grab your things, silent as he eventually, alongside the crowd of presumably agents and police that pass by, invading your apartment, Javier is a guiding light of reassurance before you’re barricaded in the safety of his car.

“It was a tracker,” You mumble eventually, “when he was feeling me up that night—it was because he was trying—well, he—he did, he put a—”

You blink, feeling the sting of tears as you look up at Javier.

“Things are getting worse. It isn’t safe for you here, not anymore.”

“Here? What—what do you mean?”

–

Here meant Colombia.

Which is how you ended up in Texas two weeks later. Laredo to be specific.

Javier had a place close to home. His family.

And you had talked extensively, it was the only thing that kept the panic from consuming you that night as he drove you to the embassy, tying up some loose ends before he drove you to the airport without any explanation until he was shoving the ticket into your hand.

His father had been waiting for you, as somber in expression as his son.

They were so similar it made your heart swell, an unfamiliar feeling.

Javier couldn’t explain what he was feeling for you and you could accept that, but he was careful and adamant in the idea that you would spend your time at his home, already setting you up with a similar job in town, a seamless transition that felt strange, but oddly easy to settle into.

“What if I just left?” You tease him one night, hearing his desk creek as he head slumps into his unoccupied hand, “Would that be easier for you?”

“No,” Javier says sternly, “I’m—this…I think I might be done. Feels like I’m fighting a battle that I’ll never win, feelings fucking pointless.”

It had been months now, curled up on his couch as you stared out the window and toward the empty road, wondering if the chill of fall was creeping in as the cool breeze hit your skin, “No more waitresses to help you out down there, huh?”

Javier snickers at that, though it was quiet.

“Stop that,” He chastises, “It’s not funny.”

You giggle in return, “I know, I know—just remember who’s keeping your bed warm every night, yeah? Oh—and your dad, he keeps asking when you’re gonna call.”

You hear him huff at that, clearing his throat awkwardly as he mumbles an apology to someone on the other end, the faint hum of the office around him feeding through the receiver.

“I hope you’re okay, please come home.”

It wasn’t a cry for help this time, but still a phrase that was special.

A code, a message. A lifeline.

Javier was barely surviving amongst the cartel as tensions had pulled taut and drug trade seemed at an all-time high, nearly unstoppable anymore.

It was beyond him, out of his control.

And for the first time in a long time, he has a reason, a want, to come home.

“Soon, chiquita. Soon.”

You could hear the exhaustion in his voice and it worried you immensely.

“Don’t let it consume you, Javi. You’ve done enough.”

On the other end, his brow furrows. Disgruntled and annoyed at how right you were, echoing the similar sentiment his dad had told him a thousand times.

He was done, he wanted out.

"El envío llega el domingo." / The shipment arrives on Sunday.

"¿Cómo te va? ¿Lo estás pasando bien?” / How are you doing? Are you having a good time?

"Cuidar a mi hijo." / Take care of my son.

#read #bookshelf #angst fic #ficrec #fics i love #almostfoxgloveangst2 #angst challenge shelf #javier peña fic #SCREEAAAAM

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peachsayshi · 13 hours ago

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PEACH YOUR BABY DADDY!SUKUNA.....

He distanced himself bc he's not a good guy, he's got a shit job, can barely pay child support but he does what he can. And he always looks after your daughter when you're busy, takes every moment to be with her that he can, even tho he knows that you're the more capable parent. You were always too good for him, and he was your bad boy fling, your mistake.

"I think you love momma more." His daughter told him, bless her unfiltered thoughts. She was probably right. Somehow, after all this time, he still found you completely stunning. He felt guilty for the way he treated you, seeing you persevere and thrive as you've gotten older. If anything, you got more beautiful with each passing day, and he couldn't be happier that his child was being raised by you, even if that meant he had to be out of the picture.

"maybe I do." He chuckled, a tinge of regret to his words. He remembered the ways he hurt you, the look on your face when he made you cry. His selfishness. It was always his selfishness that got in the way. "But I'm not good at it."

// brutally soft // III.

baby daddy!sukuna x reader

tags: non curse au; tension; reader and sukuna are co-parents; girl dad sukuna; mentions troubled past with sukuna; alludes to significant size different; mentions drug use and drinking; mentions cheating; sukuna being soft; unrequited love; angsty | | read this for more context & this & this

note: (I am so sorry this took me so long to respond to) but!! you don't get to leave something like this and not expect me to sweetly return the favor by meddling with your feelings the way you did mine. because holy shit, nyx, just hearing sukuna say "I'm not good at it" in a hushed, sad voice made me want to take my own ribs out.

dni if your blog is blank / ageless / or are a minor

"mama! guess what!" your daughter says. "I have a secret!"

you smile to yourself because she always has a secret to share these days. little, innocent things that capture her attention which seem worthy of keeping confidential.

"you know," you say as you help her into her dress. "you're not supposed to tell secrets when you have them..."

"but I tell you everything, mama!"

you lift her up in your arms, the weight of her body getting heavier by the day and reminding you of how fast she's growing.

sukuna is taking her to visit her uncle yuji, and she has been over the moon about it. you place her on the seat of her vanity, and proceed to fix her hair since sukuna will be arriving in twenty minutes, and you want to make sure that she's all set once her dad gets here. you giggle at her response, "okay, okay, what's the secret?"

she looks at you from the mirror's reflection and covers her mouth as she chuckles.

"hey, what's with the sly face?" you prod, holding a chunk of her hair gently between your palm.

"do you know ms. kiko?" she asks, referring to her pre-school teacher.

"mhmm, what about her?"

she giggles again. "well, she told told mrs. chiyo that she thinks daddy is cute!!"

your heart thumps. oddly.

you're not immune to the way that the women look at the father of your child. it's the same alluring, seductive energy that drew you to sukuna in the first place.

but it's been years since you've both been intimate together in any capacity, you're sure that he's probably got someone on call if and when necessary. considering he has more spare time than you do without a child running around, you're pretty sure that sukuna is satisfied with whatever situationship he's in. you've learned to swallow the discomfort of the idea of sukuna with other women. just like how you had to bury the hurt of the very one who tore your relationship apart.

you hum at her observation, your fingers idly braiding her hair.

it's not like you were single anymore either. you've been casually dating a lawyer on and off. it wasn't serious per se, but it wasn't a fleeting relationship where it made you feel like you were entirely free of the attachment.

he's even met sukuna at this point.

granted those dates are few and far between, but you were a single mother who worked full time.

trying to commit to a relationship is hard.

even though, you would love to share all this with...someone.

"anyway, I had to warn daddy to be careful..." your daughter interjects.

"warn him?" you repeat with a smile, her choice of words adorable.

"yeah! so, I told daddy that ms. kiko was in love with him, and asked him if I should tell her to stop..."

"stop?"

"being in love with him!" she responds with a grimace.

that makes you laugh. "and why would you do that, hmm?" you question gently for fun.

"because I know that daddy loves you more, mama!"

your heart thumps again, harder this time. so hard you feel it nearly knock the wind out of you. you clear your throat to ease the apprehension while your daughter kicks her legs with anticipation.

"and how would you know that?" "because," she insists, "daddy told me that he loves you more than anyone else in this world"

her words spill out of her, a glass of water that's been carelessly knocked over. you scrunch your brows as each word registers into your brain, soaking over your to do lists and mental checks.

"what?" you whisper as you stare at this little girl who has already carried on the conversation.

"after me, obviously," she presses - because no one can take her place when it comes to the love that you and sukuna both give her.

"wait-wait..." you say a little breathless, your hands suddenly trembling as you do your best to finish the job you started. "what did your daddy tell you? I didn't quite-"

"he said he loves you more than anyone else in the world..." she repeats, her focus on the rogue hair brush that sits at her small vanity. "so, yeah, that's why I asked daddy if I should tell ms. kiko to stop saying he's cute..."

"your...your daddy is just being silly..." you murmur, trying to underplay the statement. you slip the hairband around her second braid to secure the style in place.

impossible, you think. that's impossible.

so much time has passed between you both.

you buried that part of your past long ago.

left it and refused to look back-

"nu-uh. he said that I don't have to say anything to ms. kiko. that it's okay because he loves momma more, anyway. but daddy also told me once that he's not that good at it," she adds on, her fingers picking at the bristles of her bright purple brush, "whatever that means..."

"when did you and your daddy have this conversation..."

the realization hits her then, and she stares up at you before covering her mouth. "oops," she states, glancing from side to side, "I pinky promised daddy I wouldn't tell you that..."

before you can fish out anything else from her, she hops off her seat, her feet pattering away as she moves across the room towards her pile of plushies.

"who should I take with me?" she says loudly, brushing aside the fact that she said far more than she should. she stands with her hip jutted out and her finger pressed against her lips, her back facing you.

you have to lean against her closet to steady yourself. you do your best to rationalize sukuna's words, trying to decipher the pieces in this game of whispers.

your mind flashes to the horrid break up five and a half years ago. a memory that exists hazily in the back of your mind, to the moment of you standing in sukuna's dingy old apartment holding a lacy white bra between your fingers.

it was not yours.

"what is this?" you gasped, your breath straining as your chest rose and fell with unease. "what the fuck is this..."

it's the only time you've ever seen sukuna panicked.

your memory only captures his words in blurs.

of him drinking too much.

way too much.

of him not waking up alone but swearing that he thought he was was you.

of him not recollecting his own thoughts because he blacked out that night.

of him being just as shocked when he realized the warm body next to him was not his girlfriend.

he begged you to forgive him.

"Baby, I swear. I fucking swear I will clean up my act. I-I'll never fucking drink again. Fuck, I went too far last night. One of the guys was passing around these pills I shouldn't have fucked around with them..."

you couldn't.

you couldn't accept any of it.

you already tolerated so much with him.

the drinking, the recreational drug use, his inability to keep a job, and him nearly ending up in jail for causing fights.

but you saw so much more in that man - and yet, he proved you wrong.

this betrayal spoke volumes.

this betrayal proved to you that you were expendable to him too.

that you just weren't that important.

that shadow of that man doesn't exist anymore. not with this new version of sukuna in your life.

he almost makes you forget the past. this man; your daughter's sunlight. her knight in shining armor. the source of her joy.

he may not have been good at loving you, but that little girl has him in the palm of her hand.

and he loves her with all his might, it feels like his absolution.

"mama?" your daughter calls out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

she's standing right in front of you now, holding a rabbit plushie in one hand and a penguin in the other.

"can I take both?" she asks innocently, her wide eyes glittering brightly as she remains oblivious to your own personal drowning.

"n-no," you stammer out, and affectionately poke the small dimple in her cheek. "just one, my love. we all know your uncle yuji will have more for you when you see him..."

her eyes widen, "that's right!" she exclaims, "he always finds the best and softest ones!"

the bell rings, and you abruptly stand on your feet.

your throat tight, your stomach fluttering.

"daddy's here!" your daughter cheers, and instantly runs out of the room.

you pick up her weekend bag and sling it over your shoulder. you pause and exhale softly, telling yourself to relax before following in her footsteps.

sukuna's deep voice greets you first.

"look at these braids on you..."

you find them both at the foyer, your daughter already scooped up in her father's big, muscular arms. his hand is tugging at one of her braids and she's smiling wildly in his direction.

he's wearing an oversized leather jacket, the fit only bulking up his stature. your daughter is gripping his black tee between her hands, and she yanks it gently before asking: "can we go now?"

sukuna smiles and your spine shivers.

age has done wonders for him too.

"easy, princess, let me say hi to your mom first..."

your fingers grip onto the strap of her weekender bag nervously. you don't know why you suddenly feel very aware of how you look.

of the fact that you're completely barefaced and running on five hours of sleep. that your choice in clothes is a pair of unflattering sweats and hoodie which has some coffee stains on it. you desperately need to wash your hair, and are due for a manicure appointment.

sukuna turns to face you, "hey you, I didn't notice you standing there..."

you clear your throat again, "hi! sorry...I uh-I didn't want to interrupt..."

sukuna adjusts the hold on your daughter, allowing you to approach him as he couldn't take off his boots.

"she all ready for me?" he asks.

"mhmm" you answer quietly, at a complete loss for words because all you can hear is "daddy said he loves you more than anyone else in the world."

you hand off the bag to him, which he takes with ease.

"it's not too late to join us," he offers, but you give him a small smile and shrug of your shoulders.

"trapped with work unfortunately,"

sukuna glances in your daughters direction, "I tried..."

she pouts your way. "you sure, mama?"

"yeah, my love, I am sure."

you slide into sukuna's frame, doing your best to carefully not touch any part of his broad canvas. you stand up on your tip toes and place multiple kisses on your daughter's cheek.

"I love you and I am going to miss you like crazy these next two days," you state sweetly, feeling her wrap her arms around your neck to give you a hug and a kiss in return. "promise me you'll be on your best behavior..."

"I promise!!" she answers.

you find the courage to meet sukuna's soft eyes, the ease on his face doing nothing to help your shattering state.

"I guess you're both set then," you say with a sigh.

he furrows his brow at your tone, and leans forward to make direct eye contact toward you. your lips part slightly at the close proximity of his face with yours, and he tilts his head like a curious cat before asking: "you okay?"

your heat burns so naturally. your heart ready to climb it's way up your throat. you blink back in surprise at his question, and stutter out a "I-I'm fine..."

"you sure?" he presses as he casually stands upright again, like he didn't just pop the bubble of your personal space. "you seem a little off..."

"I am okay," you reassure with a firm nod, before dropping your gaze down at your feet as you shift your balance. "I-I just have a lot on my mind today is all..."

there is a gentle tap just underneath your chin, your attention lifts up to look back at sukuna. his expression is stoic, but you can see the concern in his tense jaw. he taps the space just beneath your bottom lip, your insides turning at the gesture he used to do to you countless times before.

"anything I need to be worried about?" he asks calmly, his choice of words a veil over his obvious unsettlement.

you feel like you really can't breathe then.

your mind spins to when you carelessly kissed him. to when he returned the gesture at your daughter's play.

what seemed so innocent now feels like a serious overstep.

your hand circles around his wrist and you pull him away from you. "I'm fine, Ryomen," you acknowledge politely, trying to keep your words detached but kind.

after you see them both off and shut the front door, you find yourself pressed against the wooden frame. your back weakly glides down the surface until you're sitting on the floor. you bring your knees close to your chest, shaking at the prospect not because you don't want it to be true, but because you are terrified of allowing yourself to even open your heart to sukuna again.

he broke you. he hurt you. and yet, he somehow was the only thing that healed those wounds.

he is the reason why you were able to bring your daughter into this world. he treated her with immense love and supported you in every capacity to build this imperfect little family with you.

ryomen sukuna - your dark angel. the source of your deepest pain, and the reason for your happiest joy.

the wall that you've kept between you and sukuna exists as a safety barrier. you can peek over whenever necessary, but it doesn't mean you ever have to cross that boundary.

and yet, you've caught yourself with the consideration of sitting on the ledge, or maybe even stepping onto the other side.

all it takes for you is to then see the cracks and damages of the past as a reminder of what keeps stopping you.

"get a grip of yourself" you mutter out loud.

you let go of that love. you remind yourself, and you both are better for it.

sukuna is a completely different individual now, and you are in a much happier place than you were before.

the whirlwind romance, the intense passion and addictive excitement fizzled. the sparkle having faded the moment his betrayal was revealed.

maybe your love for each other is just too destructive when intertwined so closely. but existing loosely as small strings, and tethered to the singular entity that lives and breathes because of it...

maybe that should be more than enough for you both.

and you don't know why the thought breaks your heart a little.

#sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna angst #sukuna angst #hurt/comfort

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preiyers · 2 days ago

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Dad!Luigi beaming with pride at you holding your daughter in the nursery. You’re so tired and feel so ugly but he says you’re the most beautiful he’s ever seen you in that moment and he thanks you for giving him Sunny😭😭😭

♱ BABYDOLL — DAD!LUIGI MANGIONE X READER

A/N: also added reader and luigi naming her in this <3

it has been 30 minutes since you gave birth to your and luigi's daughter. the nurses have placed her in a small crib inside your room while you fixed the details for her birth certificate.

you felt so tired. besides the lack of sleep, your legs were sore from keepinh them up and open, you could feel the stretch in your cervix, and your throat felt strained.

luigi saw your eyes threatening to close so he took over the papers and everything you had to deal with.

but, one important part of the birth certificate was your child’s name.

the pair of you hadn’t gotten to a decision before the birth other than the fact that you wanted her name to come from something the two of you have in common or one that has a part of you.

he was seated on the chair next to your bed, clipboard, and pen in hand as he filled up the information.

"what about ash?" he looked up at you, tapping the pen against his chin.

"babe, we are not naming our first child after a pokemon character." you stifled out a laugh despite how tired you were.

you felt your eyes about drop any second but an idea came up on your mind.

"sunny," you tell him, the sun seeping out the curtains of your hospital room. luigi's quick to get up from his seat and move the curtain.

"i know, the sun is up so early today." he responds and walks by your bed, checking if everything was set up okay before his eyes made its way to your face.

"come up here, lay with me," you told him, scooting over to give him some space to lay on.

there was a tight-lipped smile on his face as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before he got on the bed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his warm body.

"you're so beautiful," and you couldn't help but chuckle at his words, knowing you probably looked your worst today. you felt the gunk in your eyes as you blinked, your lips dry, and considering you’ve been in the hospital for almost two days now, your hair was probably oily and clumped up. "i'm serious alright"

he places his other hand on your chin and then pecks your lips. "you're always so beautiful," he pecks your cheek. "especially today, i can't even imagine how painful it was to be carrying a whole other being in your body and having to push it out as well,"

the adoration he had for you was evident in his voice. he bit his lip as he started to feel the tears well up in his eyes. "you're so strong... and i can't thank you enough for giving me our daughter."

you take his hand in yours and place a peck in the innermost of his palm.

"what's gotten into you, lu?" you tease, your voice soft and he chuckles before shaking his head and wiping the tears that have fallen.

"can't i just admire my wife?" you just smile up at him and now, he was propped up on the bed properly with an arm around you and a hand over your stomach, where your baby used to settle.

silence filled the room. it was comfortable and very much needed after the rough 48 hours the two of you had in the hospital.

his hands fiddled with the blanket as he let you rest.

"also... i meant to say sunny could be her name," you moved your head to look at him and his eyes light up.

"i mean we did meet in hawaii, the sun was always up there and we both love the beach," you trailed on and he just smiled at your words before he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"alright, sunny mangione it is."

TAGLIST !

@fuckitiloveyouu @meikoismartha @strawbxrryaxolotyl @ilovetoomanymen @onlyangelicc @for-lovers-always @freeluigihesbae

lmk if u wanna be a part of the taglist

#luigi mangione #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione imagine

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emsdevs · 2 days ago

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A Luke Hughes ask of his girlfriend going into labour and him telling his family he is a dad to a son

a/n: I'm so sorry for the wait nonnie! I hope you still like it! Also everyone please note: I have never been pregnant and therefore do not know the exact process of having a baby. If there are inaccuracies, please ignore them. Thanks and enjoy dad!Luke :)

Labor of Love

You swore you both would be prepared for this, and you definitely were. Luke, on the other, didn’t seem to be taking it as well. When you felt your water break, you called him into the room, telling him the situation.

“Oh god. Oh no. We have so much to do. Oh my god. Okay, you can get changed if you wanna, and I’ll get everything in the car,” he said, frantically moving around the room.

“Luke, baby, I can’t change my pants by myself,” you answered, significantly calmer.

“Right! Right, I knew that,” he plays it off, coming over to help you undress and redress. He moves you to the car where you get situated while he runs around grabbing everything you might need while at the hospital.

After you arrived and got checked in, Luke called his family, letting them know you had gone into labor and were at the hospital. Next, he called yours. It was very early in the off-season and you went into labor a little bit early, so they would have to fly in from Michigan, unable to be there until two days later at the earliest. After many excited reactions, he was finally done with his round of phone calls, and he walked back into your room in just enough time for you to start laboring. Fourteen hours of blaming and yelling at Luke later, you had delivered your baby and were waiting to find out the gender. You both had agreed since it was your first child, you wanted to wait to find out the gender until the baby was born. Soon, your baby was in your arms and the midwife was telling you that you’d delivered a beautiful baby boy. The tears started flowing the moment he was placed in your arms, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Luke in the same state beside you.

“You did so well, baby. Look what you brought us,” he was getting choked up staring at the perfect mix of you and him.

“He’s so perfect,” you move your finger so your son can grab it, “a baby boy.” Soon, the nurses were stealing him away to run all the tests needed, and you instructed Luke to never let your baby boy out of his sight. Eventually, your boys returned, and you all got some much-needed family time. Soon though, you and your son were in desperate need of sleep, so Luke took that time to go inform his family. When he walked through the doors to the waiting room, everyone stood up waiting for whatever news he had for them.

“She’s doing good, and the baby was born at 3:17. He’s healthy and so perfect,” he sniffled at the end of his sentence, feeling the tears beginning to well up again.

“He?” Luke heard your mom ask.

“Yeah we had a baby boy,” he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He was crying because of the pure joy he felt, his mother wrapping him in her arms while she shed her own tears. Distantly, he could hear Jack and his father having their own celebration before Jim went to call Quinn who couldn’t be there because of playoffs. Gently, Ellen pulled back before asking what name you two had decided on. You both had kept your picks for the names a secret, wanting to keep it to yourselves for as long as possible.

“Samuel Bennett,” he spoke softly.

“Samuel Bennett Hughes,” Ellen breathed, “He sounds perfect, Luke.”

“He is, Mom,” before Luke could start crying again, Jack brought him into a hug, telling him he knew he’d be a good father. His father was the last to hug him, being sure Luke knew how proud he and Ellen were. He let them be the ones to inform Quinn and your family, wanting to get back to his family.

When he got to the room, he took a moment to really take in you and Samuel. You were the love of his life, and he couldn’t wait to see where this road takes you both. He couldn’t wait to spend more time with Samuel and get to know the little boy that you two, mainly you, brought into this world. He was so incredibly thankful to be able to have this moment. You two have been through a lot since getting together in high school. You even stuck with him after he got drafted, choosing to transfer to a school in New Jersey to be closer to him. He’s always had your unwavering support, and he hopes you know he’ll always have your back as well. Right now though, he’s sure both of you will be the co-founders of Samuel’s fan club. No matter what happened or where life leads the two of you, he knows he has you and Samuel, and that’s enough for him.

taglist: @heartsforjh @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @juxmi @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude

join the taglist

#em's inbox #em's nonnies #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #lh43 #em's writing

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ultravi0lence14 · 1 day ago

Text

GET FREE

SAM WINCHESTER X DOE!READER

WARNINGS: meg!sam angst, hurt/comfort, smut (MDNI), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), grinding

SUMMARY: after the shock of meg taking over sam’s body, he yearns to show you how much he cares for you.

WC: 1.4k

the air in the room is tense, a strong mist that takes over both yours and sam’s senses. the events from earlier were still fresh in your mind, and you honestly didn’t know how to feel.

it wasn’t sam, you kept telling yourself, a mantra playing over and over in your skull. he’s a good man, he was possessed.

but his mean eyes, the way he gripped onto your hair so tightly while he thrusted the knife against your throat. it was all so visceral, a feeling you never thought you’d experience from sam. his usual kind, gentle loving self had gone completely awry. the demonic entity you knew as meg taking over his being and making him cruel.

even now, as he sat beside you on the bed in one of bobby’s guest rooms, you could feel that distance that you oh so desperately wanted to have from him. you loved him, you really did, but after what just happened, you didn’t know how long it would take before you could be around him.

though sam was a determined man when it came to his girl, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that you knew he wasn’t going to treat you like that ever again; that he would never treat you like that under his own management.

“baby,” he murmured, fingers dusting against your shoulder as he tested out if you wanted to be touched or not. “look at me, please.”

slowly, you turn your head towards his stare, looking into the sorrow filled eyes of the man you loved. he was so broken, so upset with how everything had gone. but mostly, he was angry. angry that meg made you feel scared of him. angry that because of a demon, he needed to remind his girlfriend about the love he harboured for her in his dna.

a sniffle could be heard from where you sat, a lone tear falling down your cheek. “i’m sorry sam” you choked out, feeling his hand tighten on your shoulder.

“why are you sorry?” he demands softly, bringing his hands to cradle your face. “i should be sorry. i allowed her in, allowed her to treat you like that.”

all you could muster was a small shake of your head, gripping sam’s wrists weakly. “i’m sorry because i’m making you feel like this is your fault.” your words came out blubbery, tears mixing in with your flushed cheeks. “it’s not, sam. none of this was your doing. i’m just shaken is all, i swear.”

“you’ve done no such thing.” me murmured, leaning forward and leaving a lingering kiss on your forehead. his mouth went on to travel to the slopes of your nose, leaving light, delicate kisses wherever he could reach. those kisses than moved to your cheeks, touches like feathers brushing against your smile lines. it wasn’t until he smashed his lips against yours that you felt the unbridled passion, the longing for you to feel okay after the torment you endured at his hands.

sam’s body moved so he was kneeling on the floor at your feet, hands clutching yours shaking as he peppered kiss after kiss to your knuckles and palms.

“i’m sorry,” he breathed, head lifting up with a watery puppy dog look. your hands had threaded in his hair, holding his head in place as you caressed his scalp. “please sweet girl, let me show you how sorry i am.”

no verbal response came from your lips, a shy smirk coming in it’s wake. your hands cradling sam’s face moved to his chest, lightly pushing him back until he leaned onto his palms, legs spread wide and lap oh so inviting.

tentatively, you slipped your hands to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and revealing your lace bra. sam didn’t speak, he just watched, mouth agape, as you unclipped the material, your breasts fully on display to his eyes. you then moved to your pants, slowly sliding them down your legs and throwing them somewhere in the room. the baby pink panties you wore had sam groaning, his hands grappling at your calves and begging you to join him on the floor.

the tap of your finger on sam’s shoulder indicated you wanted his shirt to go. with quick fingers, sam’s shirt was flying in the same direction as your pants, looking up at you with wide, expectant eyes.

you couldn’t bare to see him pout any longer; as pretty as he looked, so with wobbly knees, you lowered yourself from the edge of the bed, resting yourself into sam’s lap.

in an instant, sam’s hands were on you. one arm around your waist while the other found purchase nestled deeply in your hair. soft fabric of your panties rubbed against the hard material of sam’s jeans, allowing a slight groan to ripple from your lips.

“that’s it baby,” he groaned in your ear, using his arm around your waist to help you rub slightly against the bulge in his jeans. “get yourself all worked up and ready for me. need you all wet and needy for my cock.” a moan rippled through your lips at his words, and you couldn’t help but grind against him faster as your deft fingers worked quickly on the button and zipper of his pants.

with some help from sam, you both pulled his jeans and boxers halfway down his thighs until his dick sprang free. the look of him barred to you had your mouth watering, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth from the sight of his angry red tip resting close to your covered folds.

the wet patch near your cunt had a soft chuckle leaving sam’s lips, his fingers moving from your hair to move your panties to the side. “already so wet for me, pretty girl.” he cooed, rubbing his dick through your slick. “so wet, so needy.”

your fingers dug deeply into sam’s shoulders as he lined himself up with your entrance, holding your waist and helping you slowly sink down onto his dick. you both let out a conjoined groan at the feeling, small whimpers leaving your lips as sam bottomed out, his girth spreading you open so deliciously.

“fuck, you’re so tight.” sam groaned in your ear, holding your hips tighter as you breathed heavily into the crook of his neck. “move whenever you’re ready, darling girl. i want you to use me, use my dick to make yourself come.”

his words elicited a groan from your parted lips, encouraging you to use the leverage you had on his shoulders to lift yourself up and slowly sink back down on his cock. the slight burn was dizzying, a deep moan rumbling from your chest as sam panted into your shoulder.

the constant push and pull movements had you seeing stars, loud whimpers leaving your lips every time yours and sam’s pelvis’ would collide. the man stayed true to his words, and allowed you to use him in any sense possible. all sam did was breath heavily and groan into your shoulder, deep rumbled of ‘i love you’s’ leaving his lips as he left soft kisses on your collarbone.

digging your fingers into his shoulder blades, angry red crescent shapes from your nails rose onto sam’s skin with each bounce you made on his dick. the air was lucid, and sam used the hand he had nestled in your hair to move your face to his, planing a sloppy kiss on your open, panting mouth.

“i love you so much,” he groaned, the feeling of your orgasm approaching eliciting you to move faster. “come for me baby. cmon, milk my cock.”

his words had you stilling, sam’s tip kissing your cervix as you came all around his dick. the feeling of your come soaking him had a loud groan leaving sam’s lips, his head slumping against your chest as he came himself.

loud pants could be heard throughout the room as you and sam came down from your highs. the man in question finding no need to pull out of your soaked walls as he laid himself down on the floor, grabbing your body so you could rest on top of him.

“i would never hurt you,” he whispered in your ear, stroking your hair as you felt the clutches of sleep cling to your senses. “i was born to make you feel like this, make you feel good and loved down to my last breath.”

TAGS: @starzify @titsout4jackles @floralscented @deansbeer @bluemerakis @haunteres @figthoughts @foolinthera1n @deanangel @whisperingdaze @misatxox

NAT BABBLES: sam smut?? oh we’re so up (everyone thank my sweetie pie cass!!)

#ultravi0lence14 #sam winchester x doe!reader #meg!sam #supernatural #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester imagine #supernatural x reader #sam winchester x you

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takuma-talkz · 11 hours ago

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ok so how about a 388 x reader, where reader goes into the games with their ex (they force the reader to) and throughout the entire time there the ex is very toxic and abusing so it reaches a point where reader approaches 456's group to ask to stay w them and 388 takes it upon himself to protect reader

Treat You Better (Better than he can)

A requested Dae-ho x reader Fic

a/n: Aazix!! is here! This is my first decently written fic. I hope the anon who requested got everything they asked for in the fic. Since the anon didn’t make it clear on what gender they wanted, the reader, I decided to make the reader, gender neutral, with very little implications to gender.

additionally the title is a reference to a song, take a guess and see!

Warnings: Swearing, physical abuse, degrading terminology (bitch, whore, etc.)

dividers credits: @dollywons <3

You woke up to the blinding lights and blaring music.

“Yo, [____]” Your boyfriend called out for you from under your bed. You called back in a sleepy mumble.

“I’m here.”

He hopped out from the bed and gestured for you to do the same. Climbing down and standing next to him. You attempted to grab his hand but being the fucking prick he is, he yanks his hand away.

“Listen here, we are here to make money. Not to drain me of my mental, when you’re scared shitless for no reason.” His usual venom was present in his voice.

“I-I’m sorry…it’s just there are so many strangers her-“ He cuts you off.

“Shut the fuck up. All you ever do is ruin my fucking life and bitch away at everything.” You look down and take notice of his number, 445.

You looked at yours. 389.

That’s when the guards come in.

They explained that you’ll be playing games in exchange for a whopping 45.6 billion won in six days.

“See? Whining my ear off for no reason.” Your boyfriend can’t help but belittle you.

After signing the consent form, you were taken to a set of photo booths. You try to again reach for his hand but you gripe at the air. You whipped around and saw him barking like a dog at another woman.

It saddened you. He forced you into these games and he’s acting like it’s your fault for him being here.

When you first met him, he had a debt of 45 million won. He promised you the world and you fell for his cheap romantics. Soon, the abuse started happening. First, he would come home drunk and yell at you. Then, he would slap you across your face for any little reason and lastly, he would beat you for absolutely no reason at all.

And supposedly his growing gambling debt is your fault too.

As time passes you reach a field where a giant doll stands in front of a tree. The doll looked like the schoolgirl doll you had as a child. It was kind of cute.

“You will be playing red light, green light. Players must go when the doll says ‘green light’ and stop when the doll says ‘red light’. If players are caught moving, you will be eliminated.”

A player runs forward and shouts about how there are guns in the walls and how elimination means death. Something about his mannerism told you, he was telling the truth.

But of course, most thought he was crazy.

‘Drunk’, ‘Absolute lunatic’, and ‘Paranoid asshole’ you heard some of the many things the crowd called him.

456 is his number.

The announcer started the game.

“Green light.” the doll called.

Everyone played along for a while. Until a girl screamed about a bee on her when it was red light. Then…

A gunshot then a thud.

A woman screamed, and then the piercing sound of screams, running, and gunshots rang out. You were frozen with fear.

“Get behind someone taller than you! And form lines!”

“Green light.”

You were grabbed and covered by a taller player. You saw the number on his back.

388.

“You okay?” He asked, holding your hand tightly. His hands were warm and strong. It made you want to cry. It had been so, so long since a man treated you this nicely.

“Y-yeah…” you answered back.

“Just stay behind me. I’ll protect you.” His words carried a strong sense of conviction. You immediately believed him.

He made you want to stand up and be proud of yourself, but the condescending comments your boyfriend made prevented that. You remain shaking through this game of stop and go.

To calm you down, he asked you questions and answered when you asked them back.

“What’s your name?”

“It’s [____]. Yours?”

“Dae-ho. Kang Dae-ho.”

___________________________________________

Your boyfriend was by your side when the pink guards organized a vote. Player 456 went in the vote. He voted to leave.

Your boyfriend subtly gripped your neck. “Vote to stay, baby.” That pet name made you want to vomit and jump off a 500-story building.

The voting continued until it reached your boyfriend’s turn. He walked and voted to stay. The girl he was flirting with voted to stay after him.

You felt a hand entwined with yours. You remember that warmth. That sweet, comforting warmth.

“Vote on your own accord.” You stayed silent as Dae-ho advised you to make your own choices.

Then, it was your turn. You, very reluctantly, let go of Dae-ho’s hand and go to make your vote.

You close your eyes and think quietly. You have about 20 million in debt because you funding your boyfriend’s gambling addiction. So, since the current prize money is at 24 million, you can get yourself out of debt and still have 4 million to keep you going and start the company of your dreams. But, your boyfriend will stomp on plans the first chance he gets.

‘Vote on your own accord.’

You made your decision and voted.

You voted to leave.

You accepted the X patch and walked over to the X side of the room. You looked over and you saw the absolute rage on your boyfriend’s face.

You were fucked.

___________________________________________

You were roughly shoved into the wall, the scene shielded by the beds.

“You fucking bitch. You think you could make a difference by voting to leave.” The bastard of a boyfriend pushes you again into the wall.

“I-i want to leave. Your debt isn’t my debt. I got into debt because of yo-“

He delivered a harsh slap to your face.

“Listen here, you rotten whore.” he wrapped a hand around your neck and pressed against it.

“You’re mine, so don’t get all brave just because you think you’re sneaky about holding hands with another man. He’s only acting nice because he wants you for your worthless body.”

He caught you holding Dae-ho’s hand.

“From now on, you listen to me. You got that?”

You wanted to shake your head no, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of total control over you.

He delivered another swift slap to your face. This time, with more force.

“Do you got that?”

Before you could respond, The announcements signaled lights out in five minutes.

You settled into your bed without another word to your boyfriend.

You soon woke up with the urge to pee. Climbing down slowly and making your way to the door. You knocked softly.

“Excuse me. I need to use the restroom.”

“I’m sorry but no access is permitted at this time.” The pink guard voiced.

“I’m really sorry but it’s just that it’s an emergency.”

That familiar warmth touches your shoulder.

“Y’know, we can’t control it. Human nature, am I right?” Your warmth speaks in your defense.

Eventually, the guards let both you and Dae-ho in the hallways to head up to the bathrooms. You use it quickly and try to head back to the dorms, Dae-ho grabs your wrist.

“I wanna talk for a second.” He gently cradles your wrist.

“If you need to get away from your-uh friend, you can join my team anytime you want.” He offered with a warm smile.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” You look away from him. With the way he is looking at you right now, you’re ready to drop everything for him.

“Who’s thinking for you right now? You or that piece of shit boyfriend of yours?” Dae-ho’s tone was sharper than intended.

“I saw what he did to you. I watched him stare at you like he wanted to tear you apart.” His grip on your hand tightens.

“I could-“ He’s interrupted by the guard.

“That’s enough. Time to get back to the dorms.”

You and Dae-ho walk back to the dorms in an uncomfortable silence. You wished you could run away to Dae-ho’s arms, but being in this place with your boyfriend lingering around…

It would end well in your favor.

Dae-ho whispered in your ear. “Just think about it, okay?”

He didn’t wait for a response after reaching the dorms. You watched as he approached player 456 and sat down to stand guard while 456 went to rest. You make your way back to your bunk and try to sleep with a fast-beating heart that pulses at the very mention of Dae-ho.

___________________________________________

“You have 10 minutes to form a group of 5 players.”

You and your boyfriend search for a team, he scoffed as he saw most people have formed a team.

He spots a team of three and approaches them. “Yo, need two for a team?” He asked.

“Nah, just one. One of our guys went looking for a guy but looks like we have our fifth man right here.” Your boyfriend smiles and turns to you.

“Sorry, babe. Looks like you need to get lost.”

“Huh? You’re leaving me? W-why?” You grew angry. This fucker has the audacity to drag you to the middle of nowhere and then leave you like you’re the burden.

You don’t even want to hear his reasoning. Your boyfriend, no, your EX boyfriend means nothing to you anymore.

You walk from group to group, asking if they need one more person. Their responses were ‘Sorry, we already have five.’ or ‘You’re not capable enough.’

You’re running out of time. You’ll get eliminated if you don’t find a team.

Every rejection causes tears in your eyes. You accidentally bump into someone, looking up and your eyes lock with Dae-ho’s.

“Dae-ho…” You nearly broke down in tears.

“Hey, hey now. It’s okay. Relax.” He hugs you tightly. He gives the warmth and comfort that you thought you would never have again.

“Is that offer still up?” You bury your face into his warm, strong chest.

“Of course, it still is.” He rubbed the top of your head, consoling you.

Dae-ho takes you back to his group and introduces you to the others.

456, 001, and 390. All men that are quite older than you are. Dae-ho had to be your age or older. You felt safe. Dae-ho’s hand at the small of your back is a constant reminder of his vow to protect you.

He vowed to protect you since the moment he saw your ex put his hands on you after the vote. Dae-ho swore to treat you better, better than he can.

After note: WOOHOO I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!! Please feel free to request anything ranging from fluff, smut, or angst!! I’m thinking about a part two but I’m not too sure. What are you guys think?

dae ho taglist: @come-as-you-are-111

#squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #kang dae ho x reader #dae ho squid game #dae ho x reader #dae ho smut #dae ho imagine #dae ho fluff #kang dae ho #player 388 x reader #player 388

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staylovesmiley · 2 days ago

Note

So this is kind of built off someone’s previous ask but kind of angstier I guess

But thoughts on poly skz x reader who are away on tour. And as much as they love the reader and will miss her they still have each other so they have someone to love and hold every night , they still getting laid all the damn time. But she’s just at home all sad and lonely cause all her 8 boyfriends are gone but she doesn’t want to be a bother cause she knows they are busy on tour

Angst is my specialty hehe~

Poor reader would feel so lonely without her boyfriends (as someone who’s is somewhat long distance with my own partner??? I mean like- a little over an hour but still lol) the boys would also be gutted to not have her there but like you said…they aren’t exactly lonely-

They would try begging her to join them on tour but as usual they got a “I can’t- you know I have work too or else I would.” Or something of the sort in response and it would SUCK telling them no even when they offer to pay for your ticket to come see them but ugh being an adult means having responsibilities unfortunately…

They would send you videos and pictures and try and keep you updated on their lives on tour so you don’t feel left out but it only makes you feel that much lonelier. But you signed up for this, you knew their careers would mean you would have to be apart from them sometimes while they got to be together…I feel like after a while, when your replies to them started to become short with the pressure of pretending that everything is okay and tbh I feel like Minho would clock that shit first. Immediately he is calling you out asking what is wrong and you would try and hide it as till until he starts blowing up your phone with calls until you finally answer and hearing his voice sound so concerned would be the tipping point and you are crying and confessing how lonely you’ve been feeling to him in seconds.

After calming you down and talking through it he convinces you to say something to the others so you have a group call where you all talk about your feelings and how the distance has been so hard- and you feel better afterwards and life goes on as it had been, counting down the days until they get back to you….until Seungmin shows up at your work place with flowers and you are so shocked you think you might be hallucinating and he admits that he may have impulsively bought a plane ticket while you were all on a call that night and wanted to surprise you~ it’s only for a few days since he still has tour to go back to but instead of spending his free days in between stops in whatever city they were in last he decided to fly back to spend as much time as he could with his beautiful girlfriend who he missed so so much and for the rest of the tour, a few of your other boyfriends decide to do the same thing and you feel much less lonely than you did before~

I know it was meant to be angsty but I’ve been in a fluffy comfort mood lately- been super stressed with work and could use comfort hehe

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #ot8 x you #skz ot8 #ot8 x reader #stray kids ot8 #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids soft hours #stray kids angst #smiles-asks

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arkhamsbrat · 2 days ago

Text

family is a rough subject for both you and jason. you know why it’s hard for him, he’s explained it in painful detail. you’ve done the same, as terrifying as it was to go over everything again. your little sister is the roughest part.

you raised her, since your mom didn’t care to. taught her how to walk, talk, read and write. in all ways except legally and biologically, she was your kid. maybe you never wanted kids because you already had one in her. that’s why leaving your home state was the hardest decision of your life. escaping your parents was good for you… but it left her alone.

when a random number called you, you just had the urge to answer it.

it was hard for you to stay calm when the voice on the other end was your sister, in tears because your parents kicked her out. you had a friend who was still in town go pick her up immediately, sent them money to get her on a phone plan so she could stay in contact with you. jason had been so busy you didn’t think to tell him you were buying a ticket for her to come to you. you didn’t care for any denial, in truth.

you spent the next two hours on a rampage across your home, breaking a few glasses in your wake. it got to a point where you just collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. jason came home to see you in tears, broken glass at your side. “hey-baby, what happened?” your wet eyes flickered up to him and you just cried harder. “they kicked her out..” he thought for a moment before realizing. “your sister?” his hand moved to cup your cheek, gently wiping your tears away. “need me to buy her a ticket?”

why you ever question jason todd and his love for you is something that can never be answered.

jason doesn’t care about his space being intruded. he knows all about her, you constantly talk about her achievements. when he first visited your apartment, he thought you may have been a teen mother. not that it wouldve been an issue.

he sets up the living room into a makeshift bedroom while youre out one day. when you come home, hes honestly scared he fucked up. you just kept blinking at him. “what’s-what did you do?” you ask quietly. “i just… thought she’d want it to feel like an actual room? and not like she was couch surfing?” he watches you scan over the room with wide eyes before you start crying again. jason rushes over and wraps his arms around you, barely catching your whispered “thank you”s.

he’d never seen you two in person- your parents had banned you from seeing her when you moved out. that’s why i think jason is shocked the first time he sees you with your little sister. no matter how old she gets you cradle her cheeks and kiss her head. years had passed, she was so much bigger.

jason watches silently, seeing you pull her into the kitchen while she cries. “they kicked me out…” he sees how your jaw sets, but you keep your voice soft as you cradle her. “y’gonna stay with me, okay?”

“but what about…” she drones off, eyes moving towards the living room. “jayce.” you call out, waiting for him to hum in acknowledgment. “can she stay with us?” barely a second passed before he responded. “as long as she needs to.”

your sister cries harder against your shoulder, and you shush her gently. “i got you, ladybug… promise.” jason can see the tears in your eyes that are barely held back as you hold her tight.

jason’s never loved you more than he does right now.

#— bambi posting #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #…too specific?#oops #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine

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sparklypinkflightsuit · 1 day ago

Text

Love To Watch You Leave: Part 6

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Bullying, Lots of Smut, Grieving, Pining, Alcohol, Military Inaccuracies, Knife Injury’s and Attempted Murder

- Part 5 Here -

——————————

18+ Only

Authors note: Sorry this part took so long! I initially wrote one version, hated it and then rewrote it completely, still not overly happy with it but heyoooo! Enjoy.

——————————

Almost as soon as Bob had left and you’d waved him down your road, your bags not even having been taken inside yet, Bradley pulled up on your drive.

“Y/N, wait, please.” He called from the front seat of the bronco.

You rolled you eyes and sighed, picking up your bags.

“Not now, Brad. I’m tired and uncomfortable and I really just wanna have a shower.”

He climbed out of the Bronco and followed you up the drive, grabbing your bags out of your hands.

“Just give me 10 minutes, please?” He asked.

“Why?” You snapped, “What is the point of all of this?”

“What do you mean what is the point of all of this? You’re just going to kiss me like that and think everything will just go away?” His voice rose an octave.

“Shh! My mom’s inside and I really really don’t wanna have to explain to her why you just said that.” You covered your face with your hands as you groaned.

“Then come over to mine, please. You can shower and we can talk.”

“No, just leave me alone Brad.”

“Y/N… please.” He was earnest, his eyes pleading.

You sighed as you considered it, biting your cheek, and eventually nodded.

“Okay, fine. Shower first, then talk.”

Bradley nodded back and you followed him to his house. He placed your bags in his bedroom and lingered by the door.

“Remember the last time you were in this room? Punched me right here.” He chuckled, patting his shoulder.

You rolled your eyes but a little chuckle did escape you.

Bradley gave you some space to get yourself refreshed. You pulled out your jeans and a tank top, some bottles of body and hair wash, and your moisturiser.

Bradley’s bathroom was small but it was all you needed, you put your clothes on the toilet seat and climbed into the shower.

You sighed as the hot water washed the dried salt from the sea off of your skin and hair.

You didn’t spend long in there, and once you’d moisturised and gotten dressed you took a deep breath and made your way out.

You were anxious, not sure you really had the emotional energy to discuss what had happened with Bradley, but you had agreed to, so you walked to the living room where he sat waiting for you.

He stood as you walked in, hands on his hips awkwardly as he gestured for you to sit.

“Brad can you just spit it out, please?” You huffed impatiently, opting to stand.

He nodded for a moment, then took a deep breath, “I have feelings for you.”

You were silent as you stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was being serious.

“Please could you say something?” He rubbed his face.

“What kind of feelings?” You asked hesitantly.

Bradley sighed, “You’re a huge pain in my ass… but all I wanna do is kiss you.”

You shuffled uncomfortably, “So you just want me to be another notch on your belt?”

He rubbed his face in frustration again, “No.” hands back on the hips, “It’s not like that.”

“Then explain it to me.” You insisted.

“Why? Don’t you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

“No, Brad! If you were anyone else maybe I would take you at your word, but can you blame me for needing a little more reassurance from you?”

“What do you want me to say? Huh? That I’m falling for you, and that over the last week I’ve really enjoyed planning with you, and now I can’t stop thinking about you, and looking at you? That I wanna hold you and kiss you so much it hurts me? Because I do, okay? Is that what you want?” He yelled.

That was exactly what you wanted, but you wanted more.

“The kiss last night, and on the boat earlier, were they real?” You asked.

“Real? Y/N, what kind of question is that? Do you go around fake kissing people like that?” He laughed in exasperation.

“Just answer the question, Brad. Was it real or just for show?”

“It was real! Okay? I’d been trying to think of a way to kiss you ever since you made that stupid no kissing rule, and the more you did to annoy me or piss me off, the more I wanted you.” His face was red now and he was ranting. “God, and then you put on that damn dress and I nearly lost my mind, you made it so difficult to separate what was real and what was for show and-“

You grabbed Bradley by his shirt and pulled him into you, your lips pressed against his just so he would shut up.

“You talk too much.” You joked as you pulled back for air, immediately returning for more.

He groaned loudly, a little surprised, and his arm wrapped across your lower back, pulling you flush against him.

Your fingers tangled in his messy curls and he lifted you so you could wrap your legs around his waist, giving you a better angle to deepen the kiss.

“Does that mean you feel the same?” Bradley grunted between kisses.

“Just shut up and kiss me, Bradshaw.”

He did as instructed, and suddenly your back was up against a wall and his soft lips migrated south to your neck and collar bone.

You hummed at the feeling and gasped as Bradley ground his hips into yours.

“Now that…your mouth is free… tell me how you feel.” He mumbled against your skin.

You chuckled, your eyes closed as you relished in the feeling, “I think you’re alright.”

Bradley nipped your skin, “Don’t quote Shania Twain right now. The truth.”

“Fine.” You huffed, and his hands slid under your shirt, wrapping around your waste as he ground his hips again. “I… I’ve always had a crush on you… but this weekend… oh do I really need to say it?”

“Yes.” He mumbled into your skin again.

“I think I’m falling for you too…” you breathed.

Bradley immediately found your lips again, hungrily this time, and carried you to the couch, laying you on your back.

“Good girl.” Now he was kissing the skin on your stomach and rib cage, his fingers hooked into your jeans as he tugged.

You lifted your butt to help him and you were suddenly very relieved that you had grabbed your good lacy underwear before showering.

Bradley’s lips slowly edged downwards and peppered your hips, his fingers gently running along the top of your underwear.

Your hands moved to his back and you grabbed a handful of his t-shirt, pulling the garment over his head and flinging it to the floor.

You couldn’t get over how his body had changed over the years, he looked like a golden god, and you ran your fingers down the muscles on his back as Bradley kissed your lips again, his hand cupping your jaw gently.

You bucked your hips into his, desperate to feel him again, but a big hand pressed down on your belly to stop you.

“Nuh uh.” He shook his head with a smirk, “Ask nicely.”

You sat upright, Bradley still on all fours between your now bent legs. “Make me.”

He leaned forward to kiss you again, his hand grabbed your ankle and pulled you back down into a laying position. “Now, ask nicely.” He repeated.

You grinned playfully, “Please… please grow up.” You teased. Bradley quirked an eyebrow.

“Oh so that’s how you wanna play?” He growled, pressing his lips back on yours, kissing down your chin and neck. If that’s how you wanted to play, Bradley was going to show you how he could outplay you, and his thumb moved down to stroke over your clothed core gently.

You moaned at the feeling and bucked your hips again. He held you down and continued his movements over the lacy undergarment.

You clenched your teeth at the lack of control this gave you, at his teasing, at the fact that you were doing this with someone you, until very recently, couldn’t stand to be in the same room as.

You were getting very hot very quickly, so you discarded your tank top, your matching bra suddenly catching Bradley’s attention.

“Have you been wearing underwear like this the whole time?”

“Well, since after school, yeah.” You rolled your eyes as your chuckled, out of breath.

Bradley was practically salivating as he gently squeezed one of your boobs, “The matching set was a good call.”

You swatted his hand away, “I’ve taken off enough clothes now, time for you to lose the jeans, Bradshaw.”

He got up and shimmied out of his jeans, standing in just his boxers in front of you. You gulped at the size of whatever he was hiding under them, you’d felt it a few times now but it certainly looked bigger than you’d expected.

Bradley gazed down at you longingly, your beautiful form below him in your lacy underwear that was begging to be torn off of you.

Suddenly his attention was drawn to the window, and his eyes widened.

“Shit.” He hissed, dropping onto the couch and hovering over you as he ducked his head below the back of the couch.

“What?” You asked, your heart rate speeding up for an entirely different reason now.

He dipped his head just inches from yours and whispered, “It’s Angie.”

You sighed in annoyance, “Did she see you?”

Bradley shook his head, “Don’t think so.”

Then there was a loud knock on the door, and you both kept quiet as you waited, bodies pressed scandalously together, waiting impatiently for more.

Another knock followed by a frustrated voice, “I know you’re there, your car is in the drive next door.”

You waited in silence a little longer, and then Bradley carefully poked his head up over the couch when the knocking stopped.

“She’s leaving.” He whispered.

“Thank god.” You felt a sense of relief, you could not deal with more drama right now.

You and Bradley stared at each other for a moment, and then you both started laughing.

He pressed his lips to yours softly, and you relished the feeling, your legs wrapped around him again and his fingers dipped into the side of your underwear, slowly tugging them down.

Bradley lifted your legs and discarded your underwear, and you suddenly felt embarrassed to be almost naked in front of him. That was until he grunted in approval.

“Fuck, you are just perfect all over aren’t you?”

You blushed bright red, but propped yourself up on your elbows to kiss him hungrily. His hand snuck behind your back and he snapped the clasp of your bra off.

Now that you were entirely naked before him, something animalistic inside Bradley took over.

His hands pawed and grasped at your flesh as he kissed your lips hungrily, then trailing down your body like he had to cover you with searing kisses completely.

His lips were getting dangerously close to your sensitive area but he was taking his time teasing you, peppering kisses along your abdomen and thighs.

You bit your lip as he got closer, closer, and suddenly his tongue flattened against your core and he licked a long, slow stripe through your lips.

Your back arched and your head dug back into the pillow as you moaned loudly. He did that two more times, and then his soft lips moved to suck gently at your sensitive bundle of nerves.

His eyes never leaving your beautiful, arching form, his tongue darted back out to dip into you, his thumb now rubbing circles expertly against your clit as his tongue fucked you.

“Brad!” You gasped, “Fuck.”

He smirked, licking another slow stripe to your clit. He gave you a very short breather when he removed his mouth and sucked two of his fingers. He slid them through your folds and pressed them into you.

You gasped at the stretch as he pumped them in and out, and shook as he curled them into your g-spot, his lips and tongue returning to their place on your clit.

You were doing a bad job at containing yourself, with one hand covering your mouth and another in Bradley’s hair. Bradley grinding against the couch did little to prevent the coil building inside of you and all you could think about was him grinding into you instead.

You were so close, so painfully close, when you both jumped as you heard glass smashing and the back door to the kitchen opening.

Bradley pulled out of you carefully and you immediately covered yourself with a large pillow.

“What the fuck was that?” You panted.

Bradley motioned for you to stay where you were as he stood slowly. He picked up a paperweight from the mantelpiece and edged towards the kitchen from the hallway.

You held your breath, quickly throwing your clothes back on as best you could before following.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you heard Bradley yell and something metallic clang to the floor. The paperweight?

“Fuck! Angie, what are you doing here?” He cursed.

You let out a deflated sigh and walked into the kitchen, annoyed but relieved.

You stood just behind Bradley, and Angie’s face twisted in dismay.

“I knew it!” She spat, a large rock from Bradley’s back garden clutched in her hand.

“You broke my back door, Angie, what the fuck? You can’t just break in if I don’t answer the door!” Bradley exclaimed.

You hung back behind Bradley’s large frame, unsure of what Angie would do.

“You said there was nothing going on!” She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at you, tears streaming down her face.

You stepped forward carefully, hands held out as you edged around Bradley. “Angie I’m sorry, I didn’t think this would happen, I didn’t think he felt the same way about me, but-“

“I don’t care about your excuses, you said I could have him once you had played your silly game!”

“Angie, I don’t feel that way about you.” Bradley interjected, and she looked taken aback, like she’d just been punched in the face.

“But… you slept with me.”

“Yes I know, I’m sorry. I was drunk and your name was the first one in my contacts, and truth be told you were the only ex that hadn’t already blocked me. I shouldn’t have done that, we were finished and… that’s all it was Angie, it was just sex.”

You felt bad for Angie suddenly, but she was taking things way too far.

She stood for a while just looking between you and Bradley before her eyes finally settled on you.

“This is all because of you. Before you, I stood a chance.” Her voice was now low, monotone, very different to her usual high pitched treble.

You suddenly felt very uncomfortable and stood a tiny step back, Bradley stepping forward in front of you.

“I think you should leave, Angie.” Bradley stated.

She didn’t move, still staring at you through the gap in Bradley’s arm, her blue eyes intensely boring into yours.

She must have been assessing her surroundings, because suddenly, almost too quickly to react, Angie grabbed a kitchen knife from the rack and lunged at Bradley.

The knife skimmed his bicep, slicing Bradley as she directed it towards you.

Thankfully Bradley’s reflexes were too quick, and he knocked Angie’s hand away from you, the force sending her reeling backwards on the slippery kitchen floor.

“Go!” He yelled, pushing you out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

You could feel Bradley behind you, ushering you towards the front door, until suddenly you couldn’t anymore.

You glanced back over your shoulder and your heart stopped.

Bradley lay on his front, barely having made it out of the kitchen. Angie had stabbed him in his shoulder blade and was wiggling the knife out in an attempt to get up and chase you, but the knife was wedged in the bone. Bradley yelled out in pain, thrashing and trying to get her to the ground.

You immediately ran back, shoving her shoulders hard and sending her flying off of his back. Unfortunately this also dislodged the knife, and as she flew back she swung through the air and the knife caught your shoulder.

You clutched at the bleeding skin for a second, quickly realising you needed to get Bradley up and out of the house before she regained her balance.

You helped him up and you both ran for the door as quick as you could. Bradley grabbed the handle and pulled.

“Fuck!” Bradley slammed his fists into the door as he realised he’d locked it out of habit and the keys were on the living room coffee table.

He turned to face Angie who stood between you and the living room door, the one beautiful red head now deranged and terrifying. Panic sweeped over you as you considered your options.

“Brad, as soon as she turns around, go get the keys and get help.” You stated very quietly as you stared her down.

“What are you taking about?” Bradley asked.

You quickly lunged towards Angie and she swung the knife.

“Y/N!” Bradley yelled, reaching out to grab you and pull you back. You were already too far and out of his reach. Bradleys heart stopped as the knife missed your jugular by mere millimetres, and you dropped to your knees and crawled past her.

She screamed in frustration, whipping around.

You quickly stood to your feet and ran down the hall and around the corner to the bedrooms.

Bradley took the opportunity to grab the keys from the living room, and quickly unlocked the front door, leaving it ajar before running back towards the bedrooms to find you.

The door to his room was now closed, but neither you nor Angie were in sight. He tried the door handle but the door was locked.

“Y/N?” He called, panicked, wiggling the handle as hard as he could.

Suddenly a scream from inside the bedroom echoed through the house, so loud and shrill it made Bradley’s blood run cold.

He threw his body against the door once, twice, and the third time the door flew open.

Bradley stood and stared at the scene unfolding before him, before a ringing in his hears took over his senses and he dropped to his knees.

——————————

Fatal Attraction vibes much?

- Final Part Coming Soon -

Taglist:

@dizzybee03 @cheyrenee @flowery-mess @wildxwidow @residentb1tch @championemmie @mycrofthomlesumbrella @sydneejean @milegonzalez96 @minnie-rae

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livesworthlivingau · 8 hours ago

Text

Memory of Lost Letters

Spoilers for ISAT and Two Hats below! CW: Panic Attacks, Suicidal/Death Ideation, Unhealthy Obsession, Grief/Loss

Yet another memories chapter! Heavily inspired by this fic I read recently and I realized it would be prime angst to make an LWL version of the idea, 30 years of 'lost letters' to Loop.

("… Hello?… Are you there Loop?… Does this still work?")

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("Thank you again, Loop... I don't know if you can hear me, but I think I can still feel you somehow... I can't wait to see you again, whenever you're ready!")

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("Loop... I understand if you need some time, you can take all the time you need, I'll be there for you whenever you want it... but please say something, anything... I just want to know you're okay...")

...

(Sigh)

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("We're gonna be leaving Dormont soon, last chance to come accept everyone's thanks in person, if you want... We're heading to Bambouche so uhh... hopefully we'll see you there if not.")

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("... It still doesn't feel real... leaving Dormont, being out of the loops... I can only imagine how it might feel for you... I miss you Loop...")

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("PLEASE JUST ANSWER ME!! I CAN'T DO THIS WITHOUT YOU!! I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!!")

|"Sif, please hold on a second-!"|

("NO! YOU DON'T GET IT!! NO ONE GETS IT!! ONLY THEY DO!!! WHY WON'T THEY ANSWER ME?!?! I KNOW THEY'RE THERE!! WHY-")

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("I can't do this… I can't do this anymore Loop… I don't deserve them, I don't deserve any of this… You do. You should be here, not me… Please come home. Please take it all back… Please…" Stifled sobbing)

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(Deep breath "... I'm sorry Loop, it's been... a lot to deal with... I think I'm doing a bit better now... We met Nille finally, she's really nice, tough too, I think you'd like her." Chuckles "... If you don't want me to call you anymore, all you gotta do is say so, I'd understand, I promise...")

...

(Sigh "Thanks again for everything...")

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("Happy birthday Loop!... At least I think it's our birthday, can't know for sure, can we?... I hope it's a good one for you!")

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("Everyone helped me find a therapist, a really nice one too... Would you mind if I... told them... about you? 'Us'? They said it's all confidential, they wouldn't tell anyone else if I don't want them too... It would help me explain everything a bit more to them... I promise I won't tell anyone else, not without you...")

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("I TOLD THEM! I TOLD THEM AND I'M SORRY!!")

...

("... Is it bad that I kinda wanted you to scream at me for that?... at least I'd hear your voice again... They actually recommended that I write letters to you, as a little therapy exercise... I told them I was kinda already doing that, heh... They also said I should start being more true to my feelings and tell people what they mean to me so... I love you Loop... I really hope you're okay.")

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("They're throwing some big gala for the saviors back in Dormont soon. It's gonna be really weird going back there, but I think it might be good for us... You're invited too of course, we wouldn't have saved everyone without you after all! So we'll be back in Dormont in... 33 days, if you're still there or wanna meet up... I love you Loop.")

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("... I'm at the favor tree... I told myself no more wishes... I told myself it's a bad idea and would only bring more pain... b-but..." Heavy sobbing "I-I found a leaf... a-and it looks like you Loop... I just want to see you again... please stop me Loop... please... I-I...")

|"Siiiiiiiif? Siiiiiif, where'd you go?"|

("No... Not now... I need you! YOU PROMISED LOOP! YOU SUPER DUPER PROMISED!!! WHERE ARE YOU?!?!")

|"SIFFRIN?!"|

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("... Why didn't you do it Loop?... Why didn't you kill me?... You should have, you know... You deserve it all, not me... I... I love you Loop...")

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("...")

(Soft snoring)

("Mnffff..." Yaaawwwwn-)

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("Sorry... about the other night... I thought I was doing better but... My therapist warned me it's common to have a relapse now and then, especially so close to the source of trauma... I ruined everyone else's night, I'm sorry I had to ruin yours too... Thank you again Loop, I love you...")

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("Heh... I'm so pathetic Loop... I can't even see a shooting star now without crying... Thought you'd get a chuckle out of that at least... I love you Loop.")

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("Happy birthday Loop! Hehe~! Odile-" Hiccup "Odile bought some reaaally nice Ka Buan liquor, and IIIII'm drunk~!" Hiccup "Heh... Remember how you said you didn't know what you looked like? Well just between you and me... You were reaaaal pretty as a star~." Hiccup "Is it weird that I kinda wanted to kiss you~? Hah! I wonder if it'd tingle... Do you even have a mouth? Heh... I loooove you Loooooop~.")

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("... Stars I really hope you can't actually hear these...")

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(Sigh "Still thinking about you... I love you, Loop.")

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("Happy birthday Loop! So much has been changing around here, I don't know if you really wanna hear about it all, but life's been good! Still think about you a lot though... I'm in Jouvente now if you ever wanna stop by! Just look for the 'Savior's Style' shop and you'll find us! I love you, Loop!")

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("LOOP!?... Loop?... I thought I heard you, are you there?... Was it just a dream?...")

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("Happy birthday Loop. Sorry I haven't been calling more, but I'm sure you're sick of hearing from me anyways. Everyone says hi by the way! I haven't told them your secret, don't worry, but they got curious why I kept sneaking off for a little bit every year, so I told the truth, just a little ritual of mine to stay connected with you in some way... I love you, Loop!")

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("Okay, now!")

{|<=-"HEY LOOP!"-=>|}

("Hehe, everyone wanted to say hi themselves this year! Nille too! I love you, Loop! And happy birthday!")

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("Mmmm.. Happy birthday Loop... Long busy day, so had to sneak it in before bed..." Yaaaaawn "Good night, Loop. I love you...")

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("Happy birthday Loop! You know you're still more than welcome to come visit anytime, right? Just wanted to make sure you knew. I love you!")

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("Happy birthday Loop! I love you!")

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("Happy birthday Loop... I miss you... Love you...")

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("I love you Loop, hope you're having a good birthday.")

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("I hope you're not sick of this yet because you bet I'm gonna do it every year, only way to stop me is to come and make me~! So happy birthday Loop! I love you!")

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("I love you, Loop. Happy Birthday.")

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("Happy birthday Loop... I hope you're doing well, really. I love you, so much Loop.")

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("Happy Birthday Loop... I love you...")

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("... I miss you so blinding much Loop..." Shaky breaths "B-But I think I need to let you go... for both our sakes... I really hope you found the peace you were looking for... I love you, Loop... Happy Birthday...")

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...

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[...]

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...

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("Loop... It's Odile... She..." Choking up "She's not doing well... I-I don't think she has long left... I-I just thought you should know... I love you, Loop...")

#lwlau #lwl memories #lives worth living au #isat au #isat spoilers #isat #isat fanfic #two hat spoilers #in stars and time fanfic

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fluff-lover · 13 hours ago

Text

Healing Touch | Chapter 6: Healed hearts

Logan Howlett x fem!Reader

A/N: It's finally here! The final chapter! If you've made it this far, I wanted to say thank you for reading!!

There are no warnings for this chapter I guess, it's just pure fluff (with a tiny little bit of angst)

Masterlist

The mansion was unusually quiet when you and Logan arrived late that evening: no students running through the halls, no sounds of laughter or training in the yard. With the students on vacation and Jean and Scott away on their honeymoon, there really wasn’t much to do around.

“You’re back!” Ororo said from the staircase as she made her way to you. “We missed you!” She added while hugging you.

“Hi Ro.” You said hugging her back. “It’s good to be back home.”

“How was the trip?” She asked.

“I’ll take the suitcases upstairs.” Logan suddenly said before leaving the two of you alone.

Ororo frowned.

“Is he okay?” She whispered and you nodded your head.

“Yeah, don’t worry about him. The trip was… eventful, to say the least. He learned a lot about himself and his past. But you know how he is, he doesn’t talk much about himself. I think he’ll tell you about it eventually, once he’s ready.” You explained.

“What about you?” She asked.

“What about me?”

“Did you have a pleasant trip?”

You had to hold yourself back from giggling like a schoolgirl. You wanted so much to tell her about everything, about Logan and you getting together, but you still hadn’t had the “what are we?” talk with Logan.

“It was… really good.” You smiled. Ororo gave you a suspicious look, but didn’t press.

Logan waited for you in your bedroom after dropping by your suitcase. The second you stepped in he closed the door and kissed you. You smiled against his lips and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Did you tell her about us?” He asked.

“No, I didn’t but I think she suspects something. Should we tell her and the others?” You asked.

Logan shook his head.

“Not right now. I like the idea of us having something just for ourselves.” He smiled and nuzzled your nose.

“You’re not embarrassed of me, are you?” you asked. It was supposed to be a joke, but deep down there was always a little bit of doubt. Logan pulled back with a frown.

“Are you for real right now?” He asked in disbelief. You shrugged and pouted cutely.

“No, but it’s nice to be reassured.”

Logan rolled his eyes.

“No, I’m not embarrassed and I don’t mind people knowing. You’re free to tell your friends.” Logan said. “I just don’t want to jinx it, you know? this is so recent I don’t want to rush into things and mess it up.” he confessed.

His words made you smile, but it was the vulnerable look in his eyes that made you melt in his arms. You knew he wasn’t the relationship type of man, so this was probably uncharted territory for him, even after 200 years.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You bit your lower lip and caressed his cheek. “Can you stay for a little bit?” You asked wiggling your eyebrows. Logan smirked.

“Baby, I’d stay until you kick me out.” He said before picking you up and taking you to the bed, you giggled and kicked your feet in the air all the way.

With the students on break, you and Logan found yourselves with a rare taste of freedom. You returned to the hospital to volunteer, but you also started visiting places like a nursing home, offering your powers to those who needed it most. Logan, meanwhile, kept an eye on the few kids who had stayed behind: unfortunately, not all of them had homes to return to for the holidays. When he wasn’t looking after them, he’d take the occasional motorcycle ride to clear his head.

You would share short little moments and maybe a kiss or two when no one was watching, but at night Logan would sneak into your bedroom for some alone time. Your relationship was developing into something sweet and comforting and you couldn’t remember the last time you were this happy. It was scary how fast you fell for Logan. You were nowhere near ready to tell him you loved him, not because you didn’t love him, but because you didn’t want to scare him away. In the meantime you showed your affection in other ways and you were planning a little surprise for him: you were in the process of getting his father’s watch fixed.

One evening, he invited you along for a ride on his bike. The two of you ended up at a diner just outside of town. It was everything you could hope for on a date: burgers, milkshakes, and a slice of pie for dessert. Sitting together in a cozy booth, his arm draped casually over your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel like a teenager out with your crush. The ease of his company, the quiet way he glanced at you when he thought you weren’t looking, it all made your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

By the time you returned to the mansion, the world was dark and quiet. You expected everyone to be asleep, but as you quietly pushed the door open, Ororo was waiting for you in the hallway, arms crossed and a knowing smile playing on her lips.

“And where, pray tell, have you two been?” she asked, her tone laced with teasing amusement. Logan barely missed a beat.

“What are you, my mother?” he shot back, his signature gruffness unable to hide the slight smirk tugging at his lips.

You bit back a laugh, shaking your head as Ororo chuckled softly. “Just making sure you weren’t up to too much trouble.”

“We went out for a bite. I never rode a bike before so I asked Logan if it was okay for him to take me.” You said, which wasn’t entirely untrue.

“Mhmmm…” Ro arched an eyebrow giving you both an unimpressed look. “Right, well, it’s late so off to bed the two of you.”

“Again, not my mother.” Logan said annoyed. You chuckled and shook your head.

“Thanks for the ride, Logan! Good night!” You said before heading to the staircase.

“My pleasure, Angel.” He replied with a fond smile.

Ororo narrowed her eyes, she had only ever seen that look on Logan’s face before, and it was when he looked at Jean.

“You two are onto something and I will find out soon enough.” She said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Logan said before quickly walking away so she wouldn’t see the goofy smile on his face.

Only ten minutes later Logan was sneaking out of his room and into yours, catching you by surprise halfway through your nightly routine.

“Logan! Jesus! I didn’t expect you until later!” You said embarrassed. You had a fluffy headband you used when you washed your face, you wore ratty clothes instead of the sexy nightgown you planned to wear that night, and had under-eyes masks on.

Logan chuckled and pulled you closer.

“So this is what you’re up to before I come here, uh?”

You groaned and hid your face on his chest.

“I have to make myself pretty for you.” You mumbled.

“Oh baby,” He cooed. “You’re always pretty to me. Beautiful. Gorgeous.” He kissed the top of your head. You smiled, your face warming up.

“And you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” You said before walking him to your bed. “Tonight was so nice! I like our little getaways.”

Logan chuckled.

“We should do it more often, although Ororo will definitely catch on.” He said as he sat down at the foot of your bed.

“And here I thought Charles was the mind reader.” You joked. “Maybe we’re being too obvious?” Logan pulled you closer so you were standing between his legs.

“Nah, she’s just being nosy… Now, no more talking about Ro, I came here to see my little angel.”

You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and hummed happily.

“I’m glad to see you’re not tired of me yet.” You joked.

“Never.” He pulled you even closer and you leaned to kiss him.

“Let me finish getting ready and we’ll continue this.” You said with a playful tone. Logan shook his head and held you tighter.

“All this sneaking around makes me wanna enjoy every second I have with you.” He said before throwing you on the bed.

Under-eye masks be damned.

He had a good point: your time together was limited. Logan still opted to sleep alone in his own room. Both of you longed to share a bed, wrapped in each other's arms, but his fear of accidentally hurting you during a nightmare was too big to ignore.

However, saying goodnight was becoming increasingly difficult and each night took longer. You clung to Logan and begged him not to leave your bed for at least five more minutes. Those five minutes usually turned into an hour and you only let him go when you were already asleep.

Tonight wasn’t any different. Logan said goodnight with several kisses and caresses on your sleepy face before quietly stepping out of the room. He had to be very quiet not to wake up anyone and create suspicions.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” Logan jumped and turned around, finding Ororo at the end of the hall with a glass of milk in her hand and a smug look on her face.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Logan sighed.

You and Logan sat on one side of the table, while Ororo, Rogue, and Kitty sat across from you. Breakfast had been served, but no one was eating. On one hand, you felt like a kid about to be lectured by your parents; on the other, it was as if you were about to be interrogated by the FBI. The tension in the air was palpable, sharp and heavy, like the moments before defusing a bomb.

“Is this really necessary?” Logan asked.

“Yes!” Both Rogue and Kitty replied.

“Fine.” He grumbled. “Let’s get over this, what do you wanna know?”

“Everything!” Rogue answered as if it was the most obvious thing.

“Let’s start from the beginning.” Ororo said with her arms folded over the table. “When did you start seeing each other?”

“During our trip to Canada.” You said.

“And?” Kitty pushed.

“And… what?” Logan asked.

“How did it start? Who kissed who first?” Rogue said.

“Was it snowing? Was it romantic?” Kitty added.

“Was it a “long time coming” type of thing? Or was it an impulse?” Rogue added.

“Whoa, girls, that’s a lot of questions.” You said.

“Not to mention, very personal.” Logan added. You felt bad for him, this was clearly not how he wanted people to know.

“All you need to know is that Logan was a perfect gentleman during our first kiss.” You said. “And that’s all I’ll say about that.”

Logan glanced at you, but you found him hard to read. Was he satisfied by your answer? Or was he mad that you indulge them? You couldn’t tell.

“Alright, that’s good… for now.” Ororo said. “Let’s skip to the important stuff.”

“Oh lord…” You were terrified.

“Are you guys in a relationship? Or are you just fooling around?” She asked.

“That’s none of your business.” Logan hissed. And he was 100% right, but a small part of you hoped he would confirm your relationship status.

“Guys, this is all very recent, we’re still figuring things out ourselves.” You said, trying to defuse the situation.

“We’re only asking because we love you and we want to see you happy.” Rogue said while pointedly looking at Logan.

“We’re fine.” Logan said, which wasn’t much of an answer.

“Then why are you sneaking around? You left her room in the middle of the night, that sounds like just fooling around to me.” Ororo pressed.

Logan suddenly got up, his chair scratching the floor loudly and making you flinch. Clearly Ororo pushed too hard on a touchy subject.

“That’s enough.” Logan said before walking out of the room. He didn’t want them to know he was afraid of falling asleep next to you. He felt vulnerable enough as everyone knew about the night he stabbed you.

You watched him walk away with a heaviness in your chest. When you turned back you had all three women looking at you expectantly.

“Logan is right. This is a private matter we shouldn’t be discussing with anyone but each other.” You gave Ororo a look. “I told you he would talk once he’s ready. Now he may close off again.” You sighed tiredly.

“What about you, though?” Rogue asked. You looked at her confused.

“What about me?”

“We care about you too.” Ororo said. “Logan can be… well, difficult. You spend so much time caring for him, helping him with his memory… is it worth it? I mean, he sneaks out of your bedroom at night, why is that?”

Now you understand why Logan was so upset. The implication that your partner wasn’t good enough for you, or that you weren’t happy in the relationship, was overstepping.

“Not that it is any of your business, but he insists on sleeping on his own bed because he’s too afraid of hurting me again.” You explained. The girls shared a look as they remembered that fateful night. “This is the happiest I’ve ever been and I don’t need anyone mendling in my business. If I ever need your help or want your opinion, I’ll let you know.” You said before getting up from the chair and walking out.

The rest of the morning felt heavy after the breakfast interrogation. You couldn’t help but replay Logan’s abrupt exit in your mind. Was Logan upset that everyone knew? Was he embarrassed? Did this mean you weren’t something serious after all? You clung to the conversations you had before where he reassured you, but doubt kept you on edge.

Lost in your thoughts you made your way to your usual bench. The fresh morning air soothed you a little bit, and you felt like you could think a little bit clearer. This is where Logan found you.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gruff but tinged with concern.

“I guess… What about you? You looked really upset.”

Logan sighed, sitting next to you on the bench.

“They had no right to pry like that.” he said.

“They were out of line,” you agreed. “But… I think they got to my head. I can’t help wondering. Are we… serious? I mean, what are we?” You mentally braced for his response.

“You’re serious to me,” he said firmly, leaving no room for doubt. “You think I’d go through all this sneakin’ around for just anyone? You’re my girl.” He took your hand. “My little angel.”

You thought you would melt there and then, your heart exploded with happiness.

“Only yours.” You smiled. “No more sneaking around, okay? We can continue sleeping in separate rooms, but I don’t want to hide the fact that we’re together.”

“I’m okay with that.” Logan nodded.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect us to make out like horny teenagers in the hall or the classrooms. We still need to act like teachers in front of our students.” You said and Logan laughed, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

You smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder.

You were officially Logan’s girl.

As expected Logan arrived at your bedroom after dinner, ready for your usual nightly routine. Despite sleeping in his own bedroom, you noticed bits and pieces of him scattered in your room: he had a toothbrush and a bottle of cologne in your bathroom, there was a pair of clean socks and underwear in your dresser; a flask and an ashtray in case he wanted a drink or to smoke after sex, which happened pretty much every night…

You loved it. You loved knowing Logan felt safe and comfortable with you.

Later on you rested your naked body on top of his, a light sheen of sweat covering both of you after some intense activities. Logan was the best lover you had. Not only he focused on your pleasure over his, but he was also very creative in the bedroom. At first you felt a little bit embarrassed that you weren’t as adventurous as he was, and you were a bit shy, but Logan was more than eager to help you explore your body and find what you liked best. He never pushed too hard and he always reassured you there was nothing wrong with liking sex or enjoying your sexuality.

He really was the best you ever had. In every sense of the word.

So there you were, hair all messy, sheets pooling around your legs, his hands tracing lightly on your back, when you remembered something.

“I have something for you,” you said as you sat up on the bed and reached for something on your bedside table. Logan sat up and leaned against the headboard, curious to see what you got.

You pulled out a little box neatly wrapped with a silver bow on top and handed it to him. Logan took it and hesitated to open it.

“What’s the occasion? I didn’t get you anything.”

You giggled.

“No occasion, it’s not a big deal. Come on, open it.”

What Logan didn’t know is that you took his father’s watch to a clocksmith and got it fixed.

When he unwrapped it and saw the watch his expression softened in a way that made your heart ache.

“My father’s watch…” he murmured, running his thumb over the polished surface.

“I got it fixed for you,” you said quietly. “I thought maybe it’d be nice to have something of his, you know, now that you’re remembering more about him.”

Logan sat there in silence for so long you started to worry you’ve done something wrong. But then he pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly.

“You’re something else, baby” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

When he pulled back, you caressed his cheek.

“I just want you to be happy, Logan.”

He smiled and kissed you softly.

“I am. I really am, for the first time in a long time.”

You laid back down on the bed and watched as Logan traced his thumb over the watch lovingly.

“You know… I have a bone to pick with you.” He suddenly said. You frowned and looked up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“You lied to me.” Logan replied and you jumped on the bed, quickly sitting up.

“What are you talking about?” You asked worriedly. Logan simply chuckled which only confused even more.

“A while back you told me that the only thing you couldn’t heal was a broken heart.” He said, a soft look in his eyes. You remembered that conversation, it was the night Scott and Jean got engaged and you were trying to comfort Logan despite your own heartache. “You lied.” Logan continued. “You healed mine. Thank you.”

Tears pooled in your eyes, overwhelmed by his tenderness.

“And you healed mine.” you whispered. Logan caressed your cheek and wiped a tear away.

“I’m not good at this kinda thing, but… I love you. I really do.”

Your breath hitched at the confession.

“I love you, too.” You leaned down and kissed him. “And just so you know, you’re much better than you give yourself credit for.”

Too happy and excited to sleep, you two stayed up talking almost the entire night. Eventually you reached the subject of his memory since there was still work to do.

“So, what’s next in recovering your memories?” You asked. Logan exhaled, his chin resting lightly on your head.

“After Alberta?...” Logan sighed. “Madripoor.”

“Madripoor,” you repeated softly. “Sounds interesting.”

“Oh you have no idea.” Logan chuckled lightly, his breath warm against your hair.

“I’ll start with the preparations in the morning.” you said before closing your eyes and snuggling more onto him.

Logan fell asleep shortly after you, forgetting completely about going back to his own room. He never wanted to sleep in another bed without you.

Taglist:

@starsmoonn

@insanesosciopath

@rebloggingfanfictioninthechaos

@ayamenimthiriel

@charmingballoon

@espressopatronum454

@uncertified-doc

@ltristessedureratoujours

@all-for-kpop

@readerofwords616

@tezooks

@tomhockstetter7-111

@meetmypointlessaddiction

@mostly-marvel-musings

@jules-and-gemss

@reidsworld

#logan howlett #x men #hugh jackman #logan howlett fic #the wolverine #james logan howlett #james howlett #wolverine #x men fanfiction #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x you #logan x reader #healing touch

53 notes · View notes

ashes-writing-corner · 2 days ago

Text

And we are back, literally on time for Nosferatu to come out! Yall gifmakers are gifts from the gods I swear! Thank you for all you do! And to those who read my story and enjoy it, yall are gifts too and I love all of you ^^

Taglist: @exactlyelegantwizard, @xenoanamorph, @hoeia-strigoi, @arwenkenobi48, @xanth420, @serpentdeath, and @landlockedmermaid77

If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know ^^

On to chapter 3!

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 3

You're not my homeland anymore. So what am I defending now?

Ellen was at a loss. She honestly had no idea what to do. How could this have happened? How could she have been so blind? Ever eternally…and the Beast had seriously meant it. Even in death they couldn't be parted. There had to be a way…something…anything. This was not how she wanted to spend her eternal rest, lying next to the monster who made her life a living hell.

Not just her life. Thomas’ too for the brief time he knew of the situation. Her beloved Thomas…she couldn’t help but wonder about him now. Where was he? Was he even alive? Ellen didn’t take him for the sort to take his own life, and she would be devastated if that were the case. He had been her everything after the Beast abandoned her initially.

Oh yes, he left her. He left her alone when she needed him most. Left her with nothing but trauma and a severely scarred soul and a heart to match. It had hurt, even if Ellen wouldn’t admit it aloud. She didn’t understand why he had pulled away so harshly, so suddenly. But he stopped answering her, stopped visiting her, leaving her with this numbing sadness. She had waited, and waited, weeks turning to months, before she met Thomas.

He had been one of the few suitors her father had found for her. He wasn’t rich, nor did he have a well known name, but Thomas was hard working, honest, and decent. All were qualities her dear papa had liked and respected about him. Despite her oddities, he was so kind to her, so warm, courteous, and gentle. A better suitor couldn’t be asked for. So no surprise they courted and finally Thomas asked her to marry him, which Ellen was quick to accept.

With her acceptance, she thought that was the end of it. The Demon was gone, she was happy, and had all she wanted. Ellen didn’t need wealth or a nice house or material things. She just wanted a peaceful, happy life with her sweetheart. That was all.

But of course, the dead can never stay dead for long…

Furie whined softly next to her on the bed, his ears flattened as if sensing her emotions. For a hound literally named Rage, he seemed to have very little of it. The wolfhound had literally stayed by her side for the past two days, keeping watch over her for his master. The Beast hadn’t come back, just as Ellen commanded, and it made her wonder: Was he bound still by her power? Did she still hold some sort of sway over him, even in death?

Ellen had tried to be kind in a sense. She had to kill him, there was no doubt in her mind about that. He needed to die. But she had tried to be kind as it happened, for the sake of what they once were to each other. That was only fair wasn’t it? Ellen had tried to give him one last kiss, one last small gesture of love before they were both gone. It was only meant to be kind, as a way to let go of what once was.

She gently pet Furie. “It’s okay. I’m alright. I promise. I just…have a lot on my mind”.

The wolfhound looked at her, his ears perked as if he were listening intently. Ellen chuckled, her first laugh since her death.

“I don’t know if you’d be able to understand. But…I don’t really have anyone else to talk to I suppose-”.

Furie whined, as if attempting to remind her there was someone she could talk to. Ellen shook her head.

“Trust me, I would rather much talk to you more than him. At least you don’t try to tell me I did the right thing for the wrong reason” Ellen paused, “I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this. I know what the covenant said but I thought with death it would be done. I could be free. But I’m not and I don’t know why”.

She knew why. It said Ever Eternally…but she didn’t understand why that meant even after death. Ellen got up and looked out the window, peering out the expansive, glistening surroundings. For a second she thought she heard a voice, a soft collective of voices, on the wind calling her name somewhere in the distance. It sounded like the whispers of every person she ever knew: Thomas, Papa, Freidrich and Anna and their children, even the Demon’s voice could be heard among them. Ellen felt her mind go blank a moment, her eyes going a strange milky white color as though she had died again. Furie rose from the bed and growled, followed by a sharp bark, pulling Ellen back to herself.

She took a deep breath and blinked several times to recollect herself. Ellen turned to the dog, calming herself a little as he came to her side and whined, nuzzling her hand. She pet him, breathing deeply as her mind and spirit settled back into her body. What in the world was that, that strange call?

Ellen kept a hand on Furie’s head. “Good boy. Thank you…thank you so much. I think I might’ve been in a little bit of trouble had I somehow answered that”.

Furie whined, wagging his tail at her praise. He had sensed something was amiss and had been quick to pull his mistress back from what he thought was something that could and would seriously harm her. He was entrusted with her safety after all, and the wolfhound clearly took that job to heart.

“It’s always snowing here” Ellen looked outside again thoughtfully, “How about we go outside and do something fun?”

The wolfhound cocked his head curiously and Ellen smiled as she got up to change. She wasn’t sure if she really needed to dress warmly in this world, but she figured it was better to be safe than sorry. The wardrobe was shockingly full of clothes she remembered wearing in the other world…and there were others in there she had never seen. Older dresses, some furs that looked like they hadn’t been touched in ages. These weren’t hers. But yet, somehow, they felt familiar. The texture, the smell hiding beneath years of unuse…she knew these older articles of clothing somewhere. Again, it was like a memory from a dream she had a long time ago…

“Let go” she heard a voice sound in her head, one that was eerily similar to her own, but not quite hers, “Please…you have to let go…for me…”

In her mind’s eye, Ellen could see the image of a woman with a face like hers, but her hair was a shining copper color, and her eyes a deep blue tinged with green. She looked pale, deathly so, laying in bed looking at her dead in the eye. Her pale blue-purple lips trembled as she reached a quivering hand out to her.

“Please…love…I’m afraid…”

Ellen dropped the fur coat immediately, frightened by the dream. It was like looking at her own pale, dying face in a mirror. Only the reflection had spoken to her. She set the coat back in the wardrobe and grabbed one of her own warmer outfits for her outside activities, which Ellen wasn’t even sure if she wanted to do anymore.

No, no, she did want to. She needed to get out of this castle, out of this room, even for a short while. Even if it was to do something silly and childish with a large wolfhound at her side. Ellen redressed herself and motioned for Furie to follow her, something akin to excitement blooming in her chest. She hadn’t done this particular activity since she was little and she always loved doing it.

She made her way outside, surprisingly avoiding the Demon. Ellen glanced around, rendered breathless by the glistening snow around her. It was as though the grounds of the castle were being purified under a blanket of white. Ellen stepped out, the soft snow giving out a satisfying crunch under her booted feet. Furie followed behind her, his tail wagging in excitement. He liked being outside, but liked it even more with her it seemed.

Ellen found a nice, clear spot to begin her work. She made a ball, small enough to fit in her gloved hand and slowly started to roll it around to increase its size. Her troubles seemed far away as she worked, her mind drifting to happier times. Furie moved the ball too with his head and Ellen laughed.

“Trying to help me now?” She asked and gave him a pet, “such a good, sweet boy. I don't get why he called you Furie. You're anything but” Ellen stopped in her work to give the wolfhound pets along his chin and chest. All the while his tail kept wagging in delight.

“You are the sweetest thing I swear” she put her nose to his and giggled, feeling very much like a little girl again.

Ellen turned back to her task, and Furie joined her in pushing the ball around. Little did they know, the third hound, Durere, had spotted them outside and ran back in to tell his sister and master about it.

He let out several barks to Orlok, as if trying to articulate what he saw. The vampire glared.

“She's outside?” He got up and glanced out a nearby window.

Lo and behold, there was his Little Soul, rolling a large ball of snow around with Furie, before finally settling it somewhere. What in the world was she doing out there? Chaos still called for her, and she was still susceptible to its call. It wasn't safe to be out there alone. Orlok turned from the window, grabbing his enormous coat to go out and keep an eye on her…

“I think we can start on the body now, hm Furie?” Ellen asked, to which the wolfhound barked and wagged his tail.

She turned to start a new ball, this one to be slightly smaller than the other, when Ellen felt her blood run cold. An all too familiar shadow fell over her, and she knew it was the Beast. She sighed and stopped rolling the ball as Furie barked a greeting to his master. Ellen stood, facing him fully for the first time since they found themselves here to see him petting all three wolfhounds.

“You’ve named him poorly” she dared to say, “There’s not an ounce of rage in him”.

“Because you haven’t seen him angry…yet” Orlok replied, looking over at the large ball of snow, “What is it you’re doing, Micul Suflet?”.

Ellen stifled the urge to glare at the nickname. “I would appreciate it if you used my name…And what does it look like I’m doing? I’m making a…a snowman”.

He raised a brow. “A what?”

“A snowman. Have you never…” she stopped when he just looked contemplative, as if the concept of such a winter activity was foreign to him, “You’ve never made one before, have you?”

“Such things were considered a waste of time back in my youth. I spent the winters studying, learning and preparing for my role” He told her, almost avoiding her eyes.

“You never even got to do such things? Just…do childish things like this?”.

Ellen didn’t need an answer. His silence and avoidance were more than enough of an answer. Honestly it hurt something in her to know that. Maybe that was a part of the problem, why he turned out like this. Ellen took a single step toward him, a hand reaching for his.

“Come…join me. Help me with this” she requested, “Please?”

He pulled his long clawed hand away from her, shaking his head. “It’s a childish waste of-”.

“Stop. Right now. Time doesn’t mean anything anymore. It’s okay. We can do things like this. No one’s here to stop us or judge us or anything. Who cares if it’s childish? A time spent in merriment isn’t wasted time, even if time was still relevant to us” Ellen looked in his eyes, “A passionate hour is never a wasted one. Help me with this…Just once”.

Orlok narrowed his eyes at her and then the huge ball of snow. He sighed in annoyance and shook his head.

“Fine…Once, and that’s it” he conceded.

“Once is all I ask” she smiled coyly, like a cat who had just caught her prey. Her first genuine smile since they appeared here.

But even that was enough to make something in his chest feel awfully warm…

If you guys enjoyed this please feel free to like, reblog, and comment! If you wanna read more of my work, feel free to follow! Thank you all so much for reading and I'll see you in the next one ^^ <3

#fanfiction #writing #ellen x orlok #lilac fang #exile: a nosferatu fanfic #nosferatu #nosferatu 2024

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lovemyromance · 17 hours ago

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"We don't know how Elain feels about anyone because we don't have her POV ..."But she's attracted to Lucien ofc because EVERYONE (including i) want to fuck him!" "

How do yall read third person books. How do yall operate in the real world?? Do you need subtitles and a life coach for everything??

The whole point of good writing is to show - not tell.

It does not need to be explicitly stated - from Elain's own POV - for it to be true. The narrator of the books observes things that are a reaction stemming from Elain's own thoughts. Elain is not suddenly going to act differently in her own POV.

When she is observed to cringe away from Lucien - that means she is uncomfortable.

When she is shown to avoid him - that means she doesn't want him.

When she is literally says "I don't want a mate" - she doesn't want a mate!

Please stop defying the integrity of books and writing just to justify your ship.

And you know what? I'll throw you a bone:

Elain has not shown signs of wanting Lucien right now. THAT IS OKAY. It does not mean she will never want him in the future - so I don't even know WHY the ELs are so dead set on deny deny deny.

Elain HAS shown signs of wanting Azriel. She bought him a present. She wanted to kiss him. She got aroused for him. She snuck downstairs to see him.

Does this mean she will forever want Azriel? Who knows?? We're not SJM. But you can't deny she DID.

Their story is on hold after she returns his necklace. Does this negate the fact that she wanted Azriel and not her mate? NO.

Like please at least stop acting this crazy, people. You don't need to act like the entire book itself is wrong just because Elain doesn't like your fav.

#elriel #acotar #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel #pro elain #elain #pro elriel #antielucien

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gale-gentlepenguin · 3 days ago

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(Epic the musical universe)

Epic!Penelope: Okay, you have been beating yourself up over all your choices during your journey home. How about you tell me every choice you did and I will tell you if it was dumb or not.

Epic!Odysseus: Sounds fair. Alright, let’s start with… (explains events of Troy Saga)

Epic!Penelope: Well I don’t really see any mistakes there. The gods told you to do it and even explained how there were no alternatives. The only real mistake was not asking more about the cave. What else?

Epic!Odysseus: (explains the Cyclops saga)

Epic!Penelope: Okay, (thinking) so I don’t think you not killing the cyclops was dumb. It was blinded sure, but it killed several of your guys already. You would have risked more men to do it. You said it yourself, there were more cyclopses. Your first mistake was saying your real name. Your second was yelling at Athena.

Epic!Odysseus: That’s fair. (Storm Saga)

Epic!Penelope: And you didn’t know it was Eurylochus who opened it? I’d say that you didn’t make any mistakes. This was your crew being treasonous.

Epic!Odysseus: (explains Circe Saga)

Epic!Penelope: Aside from the risk of fighting Circe. You resisted her wiles. That’s bonus points for you if anything.

Epic!odysseus: (Explains Underworld saga)

Epic!Penelope: Yea that prophet was cryptic as the underworld itself. You should have made him clarify if possible.

Epic!Odysseus: (Explains Thunder Saga)

Epic!Penelope: Okay so sacrificing some men to Scylla sounds bad… but your mistake wasn’t ensuring Eurylochus was holding a torch. You could have avoided all of that if he wasn’t around. They also caused a mutiny. Your choice was justified.

Epic!Odysseus: It was still awful though… but that does make me feel a bit better. (Explains VENGEANCE Saga)

Epic!Penelope: No errors there. If anything. That’s bonus points. I want details on that last part later.

Epic!Odysseus: And you already know about the suitors. No regrets there. I just wish they suffered more.

Epic!Penelope: Well to be honest out of everything based on what you said. You really only made two mistakes. I would say the only other mistake was not letting Eurylochus tell you the truth earlier. But that’s more his fault.

Epic!Odysseus: It still haunts me

Epic!Penelope: Well, you won’t be haunted alone. (Holds his hand)

#epic the musical #epic odypen #yes I know homers version and this ain’t about that one #epic!penelope #epic!odysseus

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narrans · 1 day ago

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A Small and Tall Collection | Chapter Fourteen | Rules and Realizations

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Chapter Fourteen | Rules and Realizations

“Rules?” Soren didn’t realize he’d echoed the word until he saw Ashlynn nodding, hand resting at something at her side that looked like a thumbtack. She looked nervous. Unsure. There was a general unease about the air around the small woman that made Soren almost feel wary, but something more. A desire. A simple goal of showing to this person he could be trusted. Perhaps it was his nature, or perhaps it was some kind of affect this tiny woman had over him.

Whatever the case, he continued to listen as Ashlynn spoke. She was on her feet now, and it was obvious she was just as nervous as he was.

“Yes, rules.” Her voice was shaking. “Staying for dinner. Being seen. Any interaction. There are rules you need to follow. All of you. If you can’t agree to those, then I’m gone. Get it?”

He as absolutely entranced. What kind of courage did it take for her to come up and speak to someone so much bigger than her? And what drove her from the walls out to speak with him? Was she in danger? She seemed like she could handle herself well enough. Or was it something else? Something he couldn’t understand or hadn’t noticed because of her silence?

He looked into her blue gray eyes and sensed the gravity of her request.

“Got it,” he breathed. His fascination kept him silent as he watched her fidget, eyes flicking back and forth as she gathered her thoughts.

Even though Ashlynn suspected Soren would be agreeable, the words were still hard to speak. Thoughts swirled in her head like a whirling tornado. Everything she’d ever been taught fought to constrain her voice. Every lesson engraved in her mind compelled her to stop.

Solitude drove many in desperation. She never thought she’d be broken enough to accept it, but here she was – a Borrower talking to a human.

Ashlynn had thought long and hard about all of the things that she wanted to say and the rules she would need to set in place to ensure her safety. There were so many, but there were a few that needed to be set in stone before she agreed to interact with Soren and his sons.

“Okay, rule one – no prying questions. I’ll answer some about me, but if I say no, it means no. Drop it. Leave it alone. Sharing too much is dangerous for me. Two, when I say it’s time to go, I have to go. No persuading. No keeping. No caging. No boxes either.” Ashlynn watched Soren absorbing her words like a sponge, making no effort to inquire further or counter any of her requests.

Is it really going to be this easy?

“T-three, no touching. No grabbing, pinching, poking, prodding, stroking, or petting. Ask before you do any of that. If I say it’s okay, then… go slow. Four, don’t make things so… obvious… that you’re helping or leaving things out. It makes things easy. I don’t want easy. I’m not a pet and just because I’m small doesn’t mean I’m weak.

“Finally, no telling others about me. No stories. No hints. No drawings. Nothing that points to my existence. Do you accept?” Ashlynn wasn’t sure why she was holding her breath. Everything seemed reasonable enough, but what would Soren think?

As for the human, each request only dared him to ask more questions about their wall dwelling house guest. It was the first and obviously most important of the five rules that Ashlynn set in place. Rather than question all of them, Soren decided that asking only one, clarifying question would benefit himself and his brothers.

“Yes, of course; but I do have one question if you don’t mind.” Soren’s soft tone lessened the blow of the question, but even that wasn’t enough to ward off Ashlynn’s obvious hesitance. Soren watched her fidget subtly, obviously uneasy about the question poised to strike.

She backed slightly toward the electrical cover as she replied, “Okay? What is it?”

“What counts as a ‘prying question?’ Your name, for example, could be considered prying. What food you like or don’t like could count as prying too. Also, Rey and Dorian are curious by nature. They might not know the difference or practice discretion,” pointed out Soren. By the way the infinitesimal eyes flicked down and side to side, it was obvious Ashlynn hadn’t considered these things. “Could… I suggest a compromise? We can ask, but you don’t have to answer. Just tell us if we’re out of line and, like you said, we’ll drop it. As long as you don’t take offence to that suggestion.”

Soren hoped Ashlynn wouldn’t go sprinting back into the walls at his suggestion. Being friends was his goal, if he had to give it a name. The human watched, breath baited, as Ashlynn contemplated the request.

Every time you show up, I have more questions – questions you probably don’t want to answer. Who are you? What are you? Where do you come from? Are there more like you out there? And do they need help? Why are you trusting us now when you weren’t before? Did something happen? Is there something you need? Want? Are you telling me we can’t ask questions because you’re protecting someone? Who are you protecting?

Or are you just as curious about us as we are of you?

Soren would never dare voice these questions now or ever. Ashlynn seemed too timid, too careful, to dare answer even one of these questions. It would likely drive her away, and he didn’t want that. By no stretch of the imagination did he want to keep her here against her will, but the world was a dangerous place and, for better or worse, that protective instinct he inherited from his father and that kept his brothers safe now stretched out its hand to protect her.

The moment felt stationary before, after several skeptical looks, Ashlynn nodded a single time. “You… you can ask, but I won’t answer.”

Soren felt a smile spread across his face and the breath contained in his lungs vacated his body. He wasn’t sure how things would continue, but now he knew how they were going to start.

“So… do we shake to seal the deal? Or, do I start making dinner for four?” It was a relatively poor ploy to move things forward, but it worked. Ashlynn’s smile and obviously relieved expression told Soren everything he needed to know.

“Um… dinner. What… what’s the significance of shaking? Like… this?” Ashlynn shivered as she watched Soren’s reaction, which he was barely able to suppress as his amusement was trying to get the better of him.

“Um…” Soren cleared his throat to hide the laugh tickling the back of his throat. “No. Not exactly. It’s a handshake. You grab the other person’s hand who you want to make a deal with and that shows you both agree to the terms and stuff.” He only heard a soft “oh” in response to his explanation.

What kind of life do you live, Ashlynn? Absolutely fascinating…

“So… um… is there… anything I can do to help? Or… erm…” Ashlynn glanced around the countertops that exaggerated her size difference to Soren as she bounced her arms against her sides. It was obviously a bit of a nervous quirk, but Soren tucked that away for later.

“Let’s see,” he said absentmindedly as he thought about what Ashlynn could actually do to assist. “We’re having pizza tonight. Have you ever had it?” Ashlynn gave a vague shrug. “It’s basically cheese, bread, and tomato sauce with different toppings. Oh! I have something you can do. You have a knife, right? You could go ahead and start opening the bags and such. If you wanted to that is.”

Ashlynn, inundated with a lot of information all at once, took a second to process everything after nodding to Soren that she could fulfill the task he offered her before nodding. With little to pushback, Soren had agreed to her terms. Just like that, she was being integrated into a family activity – making dinner. The ease that Soren spoke to her and gave her a task made her head spin. She would never have been able to figure out something like this so fast.

Was it because Soren had Dorian and Rey?

Ashlynn didn’t have time to ponder because, moments after his suggestion, Soren was setting a mountain of plastic bags of varying sizes and colors onto the countertop adjacent to her. Ashlynn set her bag down by the electrical cover, keeping her hook and blade by her side, begore making the hop, skip, and jump across the stove where Soren placed the bags. Some of the food items were ones she recognized while others were completely foreign to her.

It didn’t necessarily matter. Ashlynn had tasted Soren’s food before and wasn’t about to start questioning him now. She pulled the razor blade from its sheath and began slicing. The Borrower was easily dwarfed by the bags, and she shuddered as her imagination played the stories she heard of humans trapping Borrowers in zippable bags and plastic containers.

Soren wouldn’t do that. Dorian and Rey wouldn’t do that. They’re good. Ashlynn wasn’t sure if her mantra was meant to reassure her and her decision to interact with these three humans or if she was tamping down an instinct that had picked up on potential malicious intent. Whatever the case, she continued to work.

The blade sliced easily up the shiny plastic. Twice Ashlynn had to set her makeshift razor sword to wrestle with the seams. She was so engrossed with her work that she didn’t notice until she looked up that Soren had been watching her. It sent a shiver down her spine.

“What?” she asked. Soren, who had glanced over and suddenly found himself staring, snapped out of the trance he was in after picking up on the defensiveness in her voice.

“Nothing, sorry,” he apologized. The look in her eye screamed disbelief. “It’s just interesting… differences and similarities. Your… sword? Dagger? What’s it made of?” Soren caught the tiny glint of light from the blade as Ashlynn examined it.

“It’s… just a knife. Well… for me it’s just a knife. It used to be part of a razor blade, but I bor-… er… reused the blade since it was still sharp,” explained Ashlynn. She had stopped herself from saying “borrowed” and hoped Soren didn’t notice or wouldn’t say anything. The Borrower feared he would put part of that name together and stumble across the correct term for people like her. It might’ve been a stretch, but she didn’t want to take any more risk than what she was already chancing.

“Ah… I see. And the end? You just had to flatten it and wrapped part of an… eraser? Very ingenuitive.” Soren’s complement made Ashlynn’s cheeks burn, but thankfully something or, rather, two someones pulled focus from her.

“Soren! Soren! I think we’ve got it. It’s going to be great for little m…” Soren and Ashlynn both glanced toward the living room as the sound of two pairs of footsteps thundered around the corner. Rey and Dorian were obviously racing to get to Soren first to reveal whatever they had been inventing when they stopped dead in their tracks. Both of the boys spotted Ashlynn on the counter in an instant.

Ashlynn, out of pure instinct, had backed away several large steps and crouched, hand clutching her razor blade dagger and legs primed to sprint back for the wall at a moment’s notice. The fear in her throat took a moment to swallow and she sucked in slow, deep breaths as silently as she could. The Borrower began debating whether this whole “interact with the boys” was a bad idea or not when Soren stepped forward, hands raised as if taming two wild beasts at the same time.

“Hey guys,” Soren stated clearly and calmly. “We have a guest over for dinner, so we’re going to be on our best behavior, yeah?” The boys’ faces, filled with wonder and delight, both bobbed up and down as they nodded in response to Soren’s statement.

Rey was the first to speak, giving a little wave and an optimistic smile as he said, “Hey there, little miss. Are you really staying for dinner?”

Even though Ashlynn had already committed to interacting with the human trio, getting the single word, “Yes,” out to the boys was much harder than setting the rules with Soren. The kids glanced at one another, obviously struggling to hide their excitement, before looking back to Soren.

“Does… so… does that mean she’s helping you?” Rey asked.

“Yep, and she’s doing an excellent job,” stated Soren, sneaking in a wink in Ashlynn’s direction that the boys didn’t notice. Their excitement was too distracting, just like how that wink was for Ashlynn.

“Can we help? I wanna use the smack chopper!” Dorian cheered.

Rey’s face immediately fell as he grumbled, “Hey! Not fair! I wanted to use the smack chopper.”

Smack chopper? What on earth is that? I really don’t like the sound of that, Ashlynn thought as she felt her body tense. Soren must’ve noticed, because he cleared his throat and pulled a few chopping boards out from beside the sink on his right.

“Well, at the moment I think it would be better if we let me do the cutting since we’re trying to get everything going quickly. You said you’re both hungry, right?” Soren’s sense of diplomacy and redirection was on point, and in minutes the boys were at the table helping cut and separate all of the “toppings” for the pizza. Ashlynn felt her body slowly relax as she continued her task.

At some point, Soren divvied out this squishy pale tan ball called dough and showed Ashlynn and the two boys how to knead the dough. Something about gluten and stretching out the strands. Ashlynn didn’t know. It was above her head. All she knew was that the rhythm of mixing the dough was soothing and, in a fleeting memory, she remembered seeing her mother doing something similar in their kitchen when she was very young.

“Alll-right. Now, we need to let it rise, so we’re going to put it into the sink for a bit, clean up what we can, and wait before putting everything together,” informed Soren as he gathered the balls of dough together. While Ashlynn couldn’t help clean off the table, she did snag a fragment of paper towel, attached it to the gadget Rey made for him, and began wiping down the countertop where she was standing.

It was the least she could do.

Once done, however, she watched as the boys bounded into their seats at the table, which was quite a distance away. Soren was close behind, but paused and looked back at her as he nodded at the table.

“Care to join us? We were going to play a quick game of Pictionary while we waited.” Ashlynn glanced from Soren back to the eagerly awaiting boys at the table.

“Um… sure,” she stated hesitantly. “But… I… I don’t know how to play.”

“Don’t worry. It’s very easy,” reassured Soren.

“You can be on my team!” Rey suggested, his pale blue eyes sparkling in the light. Dorian shot him an envious look and echoed his brother’s offer.

“Or mine! You can choose to be on my team.” The boys’ banter back and forth reminded Ashlynn of how she and her…. She felt her heart sink, a hollow spot in her chest as her situation felt thrust back into her face. It felt like so long ago…

Mere feet away, Soren noticed Ashlynn’s features shift from amused to crestfallen in a matter of moments. Is she sad because she doesn’t know the game? Maybe she doesn’t want to disappoint either brother? Or is something else going on? Soren wondered.

“Alrighty guys. Maybe we show her how to play and then see if she wants to choose a team,” suggested Soren. “And you don’t have to join us if you don’t want to. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with. Also, if you need a hand, happy to help.”

It was quite a generous offer, and once again a display of Soren’s ability to read her mind; for the most part anyway.

“I… thank you. I’ll make my way over while you get everything all set up.” Ashlynn thought the lift would be nice, but having Soren carry her to the table in front of the boys might send the wrong message, especially since Soren hadn’t had a chance to tell them the rules and conditions for her visiting.

“So shall it be,” he smiled before turning back to the boys and dividing up different pieces of paper and cards. With only quick flicks from curious eyes on her, Ashlynn snagged her things and headed to the edge of the counter. The wood grain had obvious pock marks from where her hook had lodged itself on previous borrowing missions. So, with that in mind, Ashlynn slid her hook into the hole and leaned over the rim.

The rope easily slid through her fingers while her feet kept traction as she bounded down the wall like an acrobat. The wind in her hair was thrilling, and Ashlynn was on the ground in a matter of seconds. She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to sense all three humans watching her, jaws slack in awe.

This is really going to blow their minds then. Ashlynn stifled a grin to herself as she flicked the line. The ripple dislodged the hook and sent it flying through the air, and Ashlynn was ready for it. She only had to take two steps to the side as she snagged the hook out of the air before it hit the ground and rolled up the line in record time.

“Woah!” Both Dorian and Rey were leaning over the table, eyes wide as saucers, as they watched Ashlynn spin and hurl the hook up like a discus. It flew through the air and lodged into the side of the table on the first try, something Ashlynn was hoping would happen for dramatic effect, before climbing the line, legs weaving around the line like a snake, as she inched her way up.

“You are seriously so cool, little miss,” said Dorian, shifting his position from leaning over the table to peering under it to watch Ashlynn climb. Even Soren, who Ashlynn was climbing up beside, looked impressed.

“And, instead of gawking, we can go over a couple of rules she set for us. If she’s going to be visiting, we need to respect those rules. Okay? So, listening ears on,” instructed Soren. While Soren explained all of the things Ashlynn had told him, she finally managed to lift herself up over the edge of the table and roll onto its surface. Her heart thumped loudly, and she felt a bit winded, the table being the longest distance she’d covered without resting since her injury.

“So, we can’t ask certain questions? Like her name and stuff?” asked Rey. Soren glanced unsurely at Ashlynn. He’d never been given strict instruction to keep her name a secret, but she also didn’t give him permission to tell it either.

Hearing this, Ashlynn sat up and crossed her legs, knowing what needed to be done next. Clearing her throat, she looked between the two boys who were now looking at her eagerly.

“It’s… it’s nice to meet you, Rey… Dorian. I’m Ashlynn,” she said. She didn’t miss the excited glanced the boys gave one another. The Borrower also didn’t miss the curious gleam that was as bright as a flashlight in the dark. It was that curious gleam that every Borrower was terrified of, but she’d seen it before in the boys and let her nerves come and go as they sat back down in their seats.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Ashlynn,” said Dorian.

“Ashlynn. I like that name. It suits you,” chimed in Rey. The child’s complement was short lived as Rey then asked, “Did you come up with it yourself?”

Ashlynn wasn’t sure how she wanted to answer the question. These two were obviously too young for the birds and the bees talk, and she was so unlike anyone they ever met that they were obviously not assuming there were more people like her, especially parents. At least there’s one good thing from this. They’re not assuming there’s more people out there like me.

“Um… n-no. I… I didn’t come up with it,” said Ashlynn. She felt her throat tightening, which led down into her chest like roots of a tree. She swallowed and looked away, hoping this would be the end of it; and, thankfully it was.

“Yeah, I didn’t come up with Rey. Our mom and dad came up with our names. Well, our mom came up with Soren’s name, but mom and dad both picked out Dorian and Rey,” blathered Rey. The statement struck Ashlynn as a bit odd as she wondered why Soren’s name would be dragged into the mix, especially at the mention of our mom.

“And, with that line of questioning, let’s explain the rules of the game and get a few rounds in before we bake the pizzas,” interrupted Soren. Ashlynn managed to mouth “thank you” before Soren delved into how to play Pictionary.

While Ashlynn had games like this she’d played with her family growing up, it was the whole reading portion that she struggled with. Ashlynn could sound out some words and understood certain letters put together, especially the ones that indicated danger. Reading was never a Borrower’s strong suit, so instead of participating she just watched as the two brothers tried to guess what Soren was drawing, each getting a point when they guessed correctly.

It was a charming experience, but all good things had to come to an end because, finally, it was time for dinner. Soren and the boys brought everything over to the table and Soren explained how to roll out the dough to make their own personalized pizzas.

“Okay, Ashlynn, how it works is after you roll out your dough, you spread on some sauce and then put different toppings on the top. Watch me.” Soren was lightning fast as he put together the first and the second before pausing and watching Ashlynn put together her own. Dorian and Rey asked a thousand questions as she used a bit of tin foil to spread red sauce over the surface.

What was her favorite topping? In truth? She didn’t know. She liked things she recognized and that didn’t make her feel sick later, so she chose cheese, pepperoni, bacon, and peppers.

Could she eat a whole pizza by herself? Especially if she was super hungry? Not a human sized one, but maybe one her size.

Was this the first time she’d ever cooked something like this? Yes. Cooking was a challenge.

How did she cook usually? Candle stove, but that was if she needed to cook or heat something up for safety purposes.

Did she just eat leftovers she found? Yes, mostly.

Ashlynn found herself answering some of the questions and politely declining the others and, just like that, it was time to eat. The aroma alone could have brought Ashlynn to her knees. Smelling everything first hand instead of the residual from the ceiling was like the difference between night and day. The same could be said about the temperature.

Eating something warm? Revolutionary. The moment she took her first bite, Ashlynn felt herself melting into it. At one point, she even let out an audible groan, making the boys giggle.

“It’s good, right?” asked Dorian. Ashlynn could only nod in response as she relished the experience of sharing a warm meal. “Hey, I have a question for you. Have you ever been afraid of heights?”

Ashlynn shook her head, before pausing, “No, not when I’m looking down. It’s when I’m looking up, like out here, that makes me feel a little woozy.” Rey, being curious, immediately snapped his head back ninety degrees to look up at the ceiling as if to see things from Ashlynn’s perspective. It was Dorian, however, who continued questioning.

“So, like, is it hard to climb tables and stuff like that? You know, being small and everything and you having to look up?”

Ashlynn paused mid-chew and looked up at Dorian with slight indignation. The Borrower wasn’t sure if she should be offended or grateful that the kid was taking her perspective into account and asking legitimate questions that weren’t too personal. When out in the human’s territory, it was all too obvious that size was a factor. She knew she was small, but for a Borrower she was slightly above average height. That was no small feat for a Borrower. She finished chewing and swallowed before readjusting where she sat.

“Um… no? I mean, it was hard when I was little – little-er. It just takes practice,” Ashlynn replied. For the first time in what felt like an hour of constant inundation from the boys, Soren spoke up.

“Yeah, I can understand that. We have to do rope training and looking up at a building roof is probably the same as looking up at the top of a table for you. I noticed you were using what we call the ‘s-hook’ method to get up the rope,” stated Soren. Ashlynn’s imagination instantly ran off the rails, her train of thought imagining Soren climbing up a line. She looked away quickly, cheeks burning, and hoped Soren didn’t notice her miniature fantasy.

“I… er… I don’t know the names. It’s just what I found was faster to limb the line,” muttered Ashlynn. “I’m… impressed you can climb a line. Most humans don’t know how to do basic survival stuff.”

“Yeah, Soren knows everything,” grinned Rey as he took another bite. Sauce smeared on either sides of his lips. His smile beamed through, despite the red staining on his mouth. Ashlynn nodded and glanced up at Soren, catching his eye.

“Yeah, your dad is really great.” Immediately, she watched Soren’s features darken. Now he was the one who was stiff and who looked away awkwardly. Unease settled around the table. The beaming smile on Rey’s face diminished, and Dorian’s brow furrowed in a scowl. Ashlynn felt like she’d just set off a firecracker in the walls, and all eyes were on her.

What? What did I say? Did I say that wrong? What’s going on?

“How would you know? You’ve never met him,” Dorian piped up before taking a particularly viscous bite out of his pizza slice, tearing the edge away with ease. Confusion didn’t cover Ashlynn’s initial reaction. She glanced up at Soren, who was clenching and unclenching his jaw and keeping his eyes averted.

“Yeah… dad… he’s not… the greatest…” mumbled Rey. “He’s the one who gave me these.” At that, Rey pulled back his long sleeved shirt, and the sight broke Ashlynn’s heart. There were circular marks going up Rey’s arm. They looked like burns, but not like the ones Soren had on his calloused hands. There were other marks too that might’ve been cuts, but Ashlynn couldn’t tell from where she was sitting. Dorian did the same, wiping his hands on his pants and pulling up his sleeves to show the same marks on him.

“No… he’s definitely not the greatest.” It was the first time Ashlynn had heard a growl come out of Soren, darkness saturating his words. She’d obviously treaded on a taboo subject; but how? She looked from person to person before the words came to her.

“But… hang on a second. So… they’re not yours?” Ashlynn looked up at Soren as she pointed to the boys. Soren’s golden hazel eyes locked onto Ashlynn’s blue gray orbs and, like the striking of a match, realization struck him. Instantly, his eyes lightened and was replaced with something else – amusement. Ashlynn looked back to Dorian and Rey, pointing between either boy and then back to Soren as if she were some kind of wonky compass. “Hang on. Wait but… isn’t… Soren? He’s not…. Isn’t Soren your dad?”

Low rumbling shook the table from Ashlynn’s right, and she realized it was Soren stifling his laughter. Dorian and Rey both glanced at each other before sputtering and erupting into a fit of laughter of their own. It was as if Ashlynn couldn’t have told a funnier joke to these three. Embarrassment burned a hole through her cheeks and her ears as she looked from person to person in hopes someone – anyone – would offer an explanation.

Finally, it was Rey who spoke up, recovering enough to say something coherent.

“Soren’s not our dad!” Rey giggled. “He’s our brother!”

Ashlynn was absolutely gob smacked. She looked between the three, waiting for there to be some kind of punch line. When there was none, Soren stepped in and continued Rey’d explanation.

“Yeah, I’m their older brother. We had the same mom, but my dad passed when I was a kid and my mom remarried to their dad, who isn’t in the picture by the way,” said Soren. Ashlynn wasn’t sure what “in the picture” meant, considering there were no cameras or other hanging pictures around, but she focused instead on Soren’s next question. “So, this whole time, did you think I was their dad?”

Ashlynn felt her cheeks burn hotter as she nodded bashfully.

“I… I guess I just thought… and you were so good at taking care of… Never mind,” muttered Ashlynn.

The boys quieted their laughter and refocused on their dinner guest.

“Oh, oh no. I’m sorry Ashlynn,” mumbled Rey.

“Yeah, we didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Dorian added. “You didn’t know. We’re sorry.” Soren nodded in acknowledgement, agreeing with both boys. She looked up and saw no malice or taunt hiding in the boys’ faces. It was still embarrassing, but Ashlynn had to admit that she did find it a little funny. All this time, she’d just assumed that Soren was the boys’ father. Little quirks and things he would do, and their similarities and differences could all be explained away with that explanation.

Ashlynn realized a moment later that she was chuckling a little as well. “It’s okay,” she said earnestly. “To be fair, I thought it was weird that you two called Soren by his first name. I should’ve seen it. I’m sorry for assuming.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” said Soren, his tone and countenance back to normal. “Anyway, it’s getting late and you two need to get to bed if we’re going sledding tomorrow.”

“And then it’s Christmas Eve!” Rey cheered, a little louder than Ashlynn would’ve liked. “Hey, Ashlynn, do you like Christmas? Did you ask Santa for anything? Is… OH! Is Santa like you? You know? Smaller?”

“Rey,” Dorian rolled his eyes, prompting the youngest brother to continue.

“What?! It would make sense. Fits down the chimney. Knows if you’re good or bad. Knows what you want for Christmas. Oh! Like an elf! Like one of Santa’s elves!”

Ashlynn was completely lost by Rey’s words. Santa? Christmas? She recognized the word “elf,” but wasn’t sure if it was a complement or not to be called one.

“You know Santa isn’t real, right?” stated Dorian in his matter-of-fact older sibling authoritarian tone.

“I know! But all of the stories have him normal sized, and maybe they have it wrong! Maybe whoever wrote those books made Santa be big with magic to keep people from looking for littler people living in the walls and floors and stuff. Wait, Ashlynn, you don’t have magic, do you?” asked Rey.

Ashlynn chuckled and shook her head, barely keeping her head above the surface of her swimming thoughts. “No… I don’t have magic. I’m just… me. What’s a ‘Santa’? And Christmas? Is that when you humans put up trees and leave out stuff for longer?”

This made Soren chuckle. “Yeah, basically. Christmas is a bit more than giving gifts though. It’s about celebrating Jesus Christ’s birth and spending time with friends and family remembering what’s important in life.” It was still so far above Ashlynn’s head that she felt like she was on the verge of drowning. At the same time, it made sense. Year after year, she’d seen humans gather together during the cold season for exactly what Soren described.

“Hey, Ashlynn? Could I ask you something next?” asked Dorian. Ashlynn directed her attention to the middle brother and nodded. “Um… you’ve said it a few times, but you’ve called us humans. I know that’s what we are, but then what does that make you? Are you not human?”

“Yeah, you look human. You’re a person, just like us. Is there a difference?” asked Rey. Dorian shot him a look, as if to say that his question should be first, before looking back at Ashlynn. The table once again fell silent, and Ashlynn wasn’t sure how she wanted to answer. Even Soren had directed his focus onto her and only her.

This is one of those questions about who and what I am. I don’t want to answer. It’s not directly asking what I am, but it’s close enough.

“I… I don’t… could you ask something different, please?” asked Ashlynn. Her legs pulled in closer, and it felt like her skin was tingling under the watchful gaze of the three boys. Both Rey and Dorian opened their mouths to protest, but Soren clearing his throat silenced them.

“We’ll have to save those questions for some time later. Now, hop to! Take your dishes to the kitchen and decide who is bathing first. It has to happen for both of you, so decide now. And, Ashlynn, if you don’t want to stay to do dishes, then I’ll wish you a good night,” stated Soren.

Saved!

Ashlynn nodded and smiled at the boys, who obviously looked disheartened that she didn’t want to answer their last question of the night. She crossed her legs and, in one fluid motion, twirled to her feet, earning a few “oohhs” from the boys. She snagged her hook from her hip and approached the ledge when, from behind, she heard Rey’s voice pipe up.

“Um… Ashlynn… do… do you need help? So you don’t have to climb down and back up?” The youngest’s question was genuinely out of concern, though it still made Ashlynn a bit uneasy. Still, he’d showed restraint, much like Dorian, and she was trying to demonstrate a bit of trust for the family of three.

The Borrower also remembered the last time she was in Rey’s hands, injured and ill. Was he looking for a chance to redeem himself? Or did he just want a chance to hold the tiny person again?

“I… um…” The boy’s eyes pleaded that she say “yes.”

“Rey, she might not feel comfortable with that,” stated Soren. The glance out of the corner of his eye was obviously waiting for some kind of confirmation or denial. Either way, it was a way for her to get out of being carried by a child.

But…

Rey was sweet.

He was kind.

It’s okay. I have to… no… I want to give a little. They’re inviting me into their home without anything in return. I don’t owe them anything, but this is something I can do to show the trust they’ve earned.

“It… it’s okay. Just… be careful. No sudden movements. Got it?” Ashlynn’s request was met with the delight of a thousand answered questions. Rey immediately hopped off of his chair and scurried over to the other side of the table where Ashlynn was standing. The child looked eagerly up at Soren, whose silent eye-language spoke volumes. Rey took a few calm breaths before slowly offering his hands for Ashlynn to stand on.

She could see the sauce stained fingers and the glint in those pale blue eyes that usually would’ve warded her away from such an interaction. Instead, she pushed through her discomfort and stepped forward onto Rey’s hand, ignoring the little excited inhale as she stood on his right palm and crouched.

“Over to the counter, please.” Ashlynn’s blood was roaring in her ears. She swallowed dryly as the hand beneath her jostled and Rey, as carefully as he could, shuffled his feet back over to the countertop. It was maybe five feet in total, just under two meters. It was still enough to make Ashlynn appreciate her autonomy and ability to choose.

Rey set her down without grabbing, pinching, tripping, petting, and every other horrible thing Ashlynn thought a child might be capable of. He was beaming and looking proud of himself, and Ashlynn had to admit that despite the age gap that Rey had almost given a smoother ride than Soren when he brought her to the countertop that day.

“Thanks, Rey.”

Ashlynn saw Rey’s entire body vibrate in a kind of full body wag before he replied. “You are so welcome, Ashlynn.”

Soren corralled his brother away from the countertop, Dorian close behind, as he waved goodnight to Ashlynn.

“Take whatever leftovers you’d like, and don’t be a stranger. Goodnight Ashlynn.”

Ashlynn watched the three brothers go, questions forming in her head about the three.

What was the story behind Rey and Dorian’s father? Why did Soren have that look on his face? She’d never seen him look so irritated and stoic with no gleam of care in those golden hazel orbs.

I might have to give some better answers if I want the answer to those questions; which, all in all, might not be a bad thing. Ashlynn thought as she packed up a few little pieces for a snack later and vanished back into the walls.

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Continue | Coming Soon

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A Tall and Small Collection | Original Story

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