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mourntheantagonist · 4 years ago

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#HarringroveApril Day 16: Nostalgia

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When Billy signed those discharge papers, piled into his dented Camaro and headed west towards the sunset despite the screaming redhead banging on the windows crying “please don’t go!”, with an aching chest both metaphorical and physical, he didn’t think for a second about looking back.

So how he ended up back in the same shithole he turned his back on ten years ago was entirely beyond him.

He had made a life for himself in California. He got his associates degree at the local community college and worked his way up from a nine to five teller position at the local bank all the way to branch manager, making an upper middle class salary. It was easy work. Boring work, unfulfilling work, but easy and worth every penny. He had a couple of friends, mostly coworkers, more so acquaintances than friends. He had a fancy apartment in the city, he went on dates, though they usually ended in one night stands where the other guy snuck out in the dark hours of the morning leaving Billy to sleep in a bed that was just too big for one person. But he was free from all of those forces in his life that always held him back and pinned him down, and each and every one of those forces just reeked of small town America.

He hadn’t heard a peep out of Hawkins since Max had given up on calling around eight years ago, or at least he hoped that she’d given up and something worse hadn’t happened to her. He regretted not answering those calls everyday. The guilt of leaving her behind like that weighed heavy like an anchor, but he did it anyway. Bad decision after bad decision he was surprised he made it to where he had today, and he just wished she’d call again.

But he also wasn’t sure enough of himself that anything would change if she did, and that phone would likely remain on the hook until the ringing stopped and she was left to the sound of his voicemail.

“You’ve reached Billy Hargrove. Leave a message.”

He wasn’t home the day she finally did call, which fortunately took that decision away from him. Her message was tossed in with a mix of telemarketers and employees calling in for days off, it could have easily been dismissed, passed over like every other piece of junk in the system if her voice hadn’t been exactly the same as it was the day he left her.

“Hey Billy, it’s Max. I know you probably don’t give a shit, but Neil died of a heart attack last night…” Billy stopped listening after the words ‘Neil died’ came over the speaker. He had to replay the message to hear the rest because by the time he’d gathered himself it had already ended. “...the funeral is next Saturday in Hawkins. Nobody expects you to come but I thought you should know anyway and that everyone would still like to see you. Call me back at…” Billy wrote the number on the back of a blockbuster receipt and set it flat on the counter quickly with a firm hand and a quick retraction, like it might burn him. Max’s name and a ten digit number below it in a blue ballpoint pen stared back at him and he just drummed his fingers on the counter and bit his lip trying to think everything over.

He looked at it for probably another thirty minutes while the rest of the voicemails cycled through in the background before he decided to make a call of his own. Slowly and shaking, he dialed the phone number and tried to even out his breathing while he waited for the sound of the pick up. He was partially hoping that it never came.

But it did. The click sound was followed by a voice that didn’t belong to Max, but one he still recognized.

“Hello?”

Billy took in a deep breath. “Hi. This is Billy.”

“Wow, I’m surprised you actually called.”

Billy huffed and if it had been ten years earlier he would have already hung up the phone by now.

“Who is this?”

“Lucas Sinclair. I take it you want to talk to Max?”

Billy tensed at the mention of her name, as if that hadn’t been the whole plan in the first place. “Yeah,” he said, a little bit of shakiness to his voice, “could you put her on?”

After a few short moments of silence and a little bit of movement in the background, he heard her.

“Hey Billy.” she sounded… glad… and it made Billy let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Hey Maxine.”

“It’s Max.” There was that tone, she hadn’t changed at all.

“Yeah, I know.” There was a pause, Billy twirled the phone cord around this index finger to the point it started going pink and then purple while he tried to get the question to leave the tip of his tongue. “So, he’s really dead?” he asked, blunt as ever.

“Yeah. I don’t expect you to want to come for the funeral, but I just thought you should know, and if you need a place to stay you can– hold on one second” Billy could hear muffled bickering and Max yelling ‘Lucas Sinclair’ through clenched teeth and it brought a smile to his face. It reminded him of all those times he’d eavesdrop on her phone calls with him just to piss her off, just to hear her yell at him through their shared wall before she’d chase him around the house. Those were good days. “As I was saying. You can stay here if you need. We have a spare room.”

“Thanks for the offer.”

“I really hope you decide to come.”

“We’ll see.” He was just about to hang the phone back up, but he stopped himself, “Hey Max?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice hearing the sound of your voice again.”

Billy wound up taking the week off and driving that same old Camaro, restored back to its former glory, that did the distance twice before, back over to Indiana, to the place he said he’d never go back to, and he really couldn’t figure out the reason why he didn’t just go into work. There was nothing to drive him to go but the weird feeling in his gut that refused to go away until he called in, and a little bit of that pressure was released.

For each freeway exit he came across on the over thousand mile journey he contemplated turning around, getting back on that on-ramp going the other direction and save himself from whatever hell he’d be walking into.

Because that’s what Hawkins was to him. Hell. There were monsters like his father, and then there were real, legitimate monsters as well and Billy wasn’t safe from either of them, well he was safe from one now. He couldn’t imagine why Max decided to stay in the shithole and not get out like he did.

Maybe that’s what makes him the coward.

The welcome to Hawkins sign gave him chills. He remembered seeing that for the first time, following behind the rickety Uhaul pulled by their beat up truck when Billy decided not to follow them into their next turn, and instead got lost on the “scenic route” of Hawkins which really meant “trees, trees, and more trees” when he hit the Quarry’s dead end and nearly went off the cliff into the water below.

At the time he might’ve thought it would have been better if he had.

A lot of things had looked to have changed about the town since the last time he saw it. Places that he remembered being nothing but vast forests now had neighborhoods and restaurant chains and the place that once had a natural canopy was now completely deforested and exposed to the sun.

But the Quarry was exactly the same as he left it.

From the beer cans crushed and scattered, to the sounds of gravel pieces bouncing up and chipping the paint on his car.

The continuities continued to add up when he stepped foot out of the car, pulling on that same old denim jacket he hadn’t worn in years after trading it in for a suit and tie. His boot hit the gravel path just like it always had, with that same stomp that demanded attention, like each time he got out of that car he had to play into the dramatics, put on the mask and play the part he chose for himself. The breeze and the smell, it was all the same as before, as if the industrialization just several blocks north hadn’t had any effects on this little corner of the town where the birds still sang their songs in harmony and the smell of nature was pungent. It felt like no time had passed at all.

But it had been the sound of a rumbling BMW rolling down the crushing gravel that made him feel exactly like he was back in highschool again, the same rotten kid who used fists as forms for problem solving, the kid who as an adult had worked on his impulsivity, standing there, staring up the gentle slope with his fists clenched so tight his fingernails left marks on his palms. All that work, all that progress he thought he’d gone through, thrown straight out the window at just the mere sight of something from his past.

The BMW pulled up beside him, and the quarry apparently wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t changed. Steve still had the same big swooped back hair and that same exact look on his face when they made eye contact through the passenger window, the same exact look he had the day he told him he was leaving, and screamed at him to get out of his hospital room.

That was the last time they spoke.

Steve got out of the car without a word and just leaned against the door, looking him up and down, and Billy didn’t feel like he had any right to say the first word, considering he’d had the last one.

“It’s good to see you Billy.” Steve broke the silence, and it was almost startling, with both the sudden change of volume, and the sound of that voice he’d almost forgotten singing in his head like a song he didn’t remember learning the lyrics to.

“Is it?” Because it felt like it was all just a formality coming out of his mouth.

He wasn’t expecting an answer to that, so he shouldn’t have been surprised when Steve changed the subject. It was oddly refreshing seeing Steve write the script this time, steering the conversation his way.

“Looks like we both kept our old wheels,” he said, slapping the top of his car twice, maybe a little too hard. The sound of a hand against metal echoed through the trees. “though there’s not as many dents from what I remember.”

“I had it restored.”

The majority of Steve’s body was hidden behind the car that separated the two of them, but he could see in the way that his shoulders moved that his hands had found his own hips, doing that same stance of a mother who just caught their kid in the act of something naughty. “Some good memories happened in that car.”

“Some bad ones too. Or do I need to remind you how the dents got there in the first place?” Billy crossed his arms over his chest, as if the thousand pound chunk of metal that served as a barrier wasn’t enough to protect him. Because it felt like Steve could see directly through him with the way his head tilted when Billy threw his words back at him. Because they both knew that it was horseshit. Memories of whatever happened between Steve and the Camaro existed only in the dents that remained and the neck pain that still lingered. He didn’t actually hold any grudge about that, and he never did.

Because Steve was right. There had been good memories in that car, some he didn’t remember until seeing him again, some that still played in his mind when he went to sleep at night. Maybe that was the reason he kept it around for so long, that one piece that contained all of those few good times, all of those times with Steve.

“You were always so good at that.”

“What?”

“Deflecting. Pushing people away.”

Billy opened his mouth to defend himself, but there was nothing that came out but his own breath, but Steve filled that silence anyway before Billy would have even had the opportunity to speak.

“You cut your hair.”

It was like he was being interrogated.

“Company policy, they practically had to strap me down and take the clippers to my head themselves.”

Steve actually laughed, and it seemed genuine at least. Billy pulled out the pack of red that he always kept on the seat like it was muscle memory. His hands would only ever stop shaking when he had that little stick between his fingers, and they were only shaking more since Steve got out of that car.

“You still smoke?”

Billy put the cigarette in between his lips and lit up, pausing for a nice drag before bothering to answer Steve. Just letting his eyes fall shut and experience just a short moment of relaxation.

“Some old habits never die”

Steve pursed his lips. Every single one of his mannerisms were exactly the same. This one meant that he wanted to say something that he didn’t know if he should.

“Was I just an old habit too?”

“Steve–”

Steve just kicked the side of his car with his knee, sure to leave a dent of his own. The sound was loud enough that the consistent stream of chirping birds transformed into a cascade of flapping wings as the birds on the trees flew away from the scene. He walked around to the front of his car and the physical object that once created separation was gone, and suddenly Steve was within reach and he couldn’t breathe.

“Glad to know it’s harder to quit nicotine than it was to quit me!”

Billy chucked his lit cigarette at the ground and scuffed it with his heel into the gravel. “Who told you it was easy?!” He had a finger pointed to Steve and had closed their distance a few feet more, less than an arms length apart from each other.

“You left!”

“Because I had to! You know I did!”

“You didn’t have to leave me!” Steve practically screamed that final word, his face was now just inches away from Billy’s and he was nearly foaming at the mouth and from an outsider's perspective, Steve looked about two seconds from either kissing him, or killing him.

He did neither. He took a step back and recollected himself with a dramatic clearing of his throat. “You didn’t even ask me to come with you.”

“And you don’t think I regret that every fucking day of my life?” Billy’s voice broke, trembling throughout the sentence like he was containing a ticking time bomb. “Why are you even here?”

Steve just rolled his eyes at the steer. “Max sent me.”

“Of course she fucking did.”

“She cares about you y’know.” Billy scoffed, because how could she? After all he did to her? He could still hear those palms banging against those windows and her muffled screams for her to stay every time he got into that car. “Why are you here?”

“Did she not tell you the part where my dad died?”

“I know damn well you didn’t come all this way to pay your respects.”

Billy let himself drop to the ground and sit on the rough terrain with his back against his tire, unable to continue standing, his legs were ready to betray him.

“I have no idea why I’m here, okay? I just am.”

Steve nodded his head, and he didn’t say anything, no quip back in his face, he just followed Billy to the ground.

“Are you upset he’s gone?”

Billy let out a groan and tried to rub the growing migraine from his temples.

“I’m feeling a lot of things, but I don’t think ‘upset’ is one of them.” Neither of them said anything after that. They just sat there on the ground and enjoyed the silence together like they used to do. Looking up at the clouds and arguing over what shape they were. There’d be none of that today though, and it had nothing to do with the overcast skies. “You still keep a six pack in your trunk?”

Steve laughed and got up from where he was seated and popped the trunk. He was right. Some old habits never fucking die.

Steve tossed a can over to Billy and sat back down on the gravel, maybe a little closer than he had been before. Billy took a long swig and swallowed the bitter taste down. He hadn’t drank much since he was a teenager, he traded in his Coors for Cola and he doesn’t understand how he used to enjoy the taste of it before.

“Why did you stay in Hawkins?”

Steve dug his heel and pushed a pile of rocks forward, kicking a plume of dust into the air.

“Nobody ever gave me a reason to leave.”

Billy wanted to ask if he would have even come with him had he asked him to. But he opted against it, instead just taking another drink from the can and a genuine “I’m sorry.” passed his lips.

“You know I followed you?”

“What?”

“Yup. Made it all the way to St. Louis before I turned around.”

Billy was just staring at him at this point, unsure if he’d just heard him right. He just sat there with his mouth agape, catching flies and waiting for Steve to say more.

“I knew that you needed to go. I knew that you were hurting and it took me almost ten hours on the open road to realize that you needed time to heal.” Steve’s eyes looked glossy and his cheeks flushed but he kept his smile on. “So I came back home, and I waited here for you to come back. I wanted to make myself easy to find when you needed me.”

“You waited for me?”

Steve inched his hand over to where Billy’s was propping himself up and let his fingers gently trace the back of his hand. Steve’s touch was everything. It made his heart start racing and his palms start sweating and it felt just like 1985 all over again.

Billy took Steve’s hand in his own and entwined their fingers together and Billy let out a long exhale as they did.

“Billy,” Steve said softly, scooting his body just a little bit closer, less than a foot of separation now between the two of them, and he looked Billy in the eyes. Billy had almost gotten entirely lost in those pools of deep brown before Steve had the chance to speak again. But he heard it, loud and clear. “I’m still waiting for you.”

He waited.

Waited ten fucking years.

Billy wasn’t going to make him sit there and wait for a kiss too.

Billy closed the distance at the moment the penny dropped, sinking all of his weight into the kiss in a frantic and uneven pace just like they were eighteen again trying to squeeze both of their bodies into the backseat of the Camaro, refusing for even a second to separate themselves from the one point of contact that sealed them together like glue. The kiss felt just like their first. In the same spot, instead under the stars and the two of them both drunk off their asses, and that time Billy tasted of only blood and liquor.

But it was that same feeling. That desire to never pull away, that fear that it would end and that it would be the last time. He had that fear with everyone of Steve and his kisses, that each one might just be their last.

So he made a point to savor all of them.

They kissed until they physically couldn’t anymore. Out of breath with swollen lips and an inability stop the smiles that peeked through every couple of seconds. They sat there with their foreheads touching and their clasped hands still intact, relishing in the heat that was each other’s breath on their faces. Billy was crying, just streams of tears paired with a smile that Steve gently wiped away with his thumb, the brush of contact making him shiver.

“I missed you so fucking much.”

Steve cradled Billy’s head in his hands and peppered a few short kisses to his lips.

“I missed you too.”

“You think this is why Max invited me here?” Billy asked. “I can’t imagine she’d actually think I would want to come to this thing.”

Steve laughed. “No. She’s not an idiot. She figured you’d want to crash the funeral.”

Billy immediately got up from his place on the ground and held his other hand out for Steve to grab onto. “Well you wanna join me while I go piss on my old man’s grave?”

Steve took his hand without hesitation and let Billy pull him up off the ground.

“It would be my honor.”

Hawkins made a lot of bad memories for Billy, most of which he locked somewhere far away, but the good still remained. Right there in the look on Steve’s face with the way he looked back at him.

And he was happy to make a couple more.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #stranger things #steve harrington #mandi writes tresh #ficlet #harringroveapril #harringrove april

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thatonegreyghost · 3 years ago

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I feel like being extra today, so have some California gothic(SoCal edition):

There is no rain. There is never rain. If it comes, it comes when everyone is inside or asleep. Roads flood and swimming pools spill over and there is half a foot of water on every corner. Then it dries and its gone forever. There is no rain.

There is something in the ocean. You can't see it, because you aren't far out enough for the water to be clear, but it doesn't matter; anytime you do go far out enough, it's too deep to see the bottom. There's a ledge where the sandy floor drops into a steep cliff; young kids who are brave enough to swim out the ten feet to reach it dare their friends to jump. You see fishermen on the pier and the beach, and even though you've never seen as much as a piece of bait on the shore, you keep your distance to avoid a hook in your foot. The water glitters with flecks of gold; when the waves crash, the sand is stirred up enough to reveal the precious metal. You've heard stories about people jumping off the pier, but you never see it happen. You love the ocean. Maybe you'll come again when there's less people. There's something in the ocean; maybe one day you'll actually see it.

The air around LA is dirty. Its orange and gray and disgusting. Breathing it in makes you feel nauseous, dirty, depressed. When it rains(it never rains), you can see all the skyscrapers, and the mountains! The mountains are so clear. It only lasts a few days, and the smog is back. Time slows down on the freeway leading into downtown. You sit in traffic, staring at the license plate ahead of you. Its been ten minutes since everyone stopped moving. You look up at the skyline; has it always been that orange? Someone honks behind you, and you turn your attention to the road. Its been five minutes. No one's moved.

There's a fire somewhere. It makes sense; you got a lot of rain that winter, and the summer was predictably hot. You wake up at three in the morning; on the coast, because you smell burning, in the hill, because a neighbor is pounding on your door. The sky turns red, and when high schoolers leave their third period, they can't see. Nothing gets canceled except for sports. There is ash in the pool; it will stay for weeks until the first home meet.

"Coyotes are back" the sign says. You think of your dog, a good sized dog that can protect itself. You think of your neighbors dog, a scrawny thing that would get snatched in an instant if it were left out at night. You think of your friend's cat, and how the only dead cats you've ever seen are mauled on the side of the road. Coyotes are back. You don't think they ever really left.

The lights went out last night. You know this because your alarm went off at two am instead of six, and because of the blinking 12:01 on your clock. Your fan is still going at least; without it, you would be smothered to death by heat, heat that builds and builds and builds until its cooler outside than in. The pools are open for the summer, but unless you know friends or family with one, you'll have to pay. You think that's kind of cruel, but say nothing. You're too hot to think.

There is a June bug in your house. Its July. There is a June bug in your house.

A gun shot goes off. No, wait, that was a firework. You wonder how your neighbors got those fireworks, the kind that bang instead of whistle and shriek instead of scream. You hope they don't go to the hill to set them off. There have been enough fires in recent years. You hear the bang again. You count the weeks to the fourth of July; three weeks to go. You'll get some sleep in a month.

There is nothing in the dark. Absolutely nothing. You know this because the night makes you feel safe, because it is cool and refreshing. There is nothing in the dark. You walk faster anyway.

A tourist from the Midwest complains about sunburn. You laugh; you don't get sunburn. You can't remember the last time you had sunburn. Sunburn is what happens to outsiders, or those with less melanin. You stare at the strawberry blonde whose face is as red as her hair. Even your white friends aren't so pale; living here, you've absorbed the sun into your skin and the golden warmth into your smile. Outsiders say you are beautiful. Insiders know why.

Disneyland is too expensive. You can't afford it, you don't want to go. You still think fondly of your past trips. Knott's is smaller, more local, but a yearly pass is a fraction of a Disney day ticket. You go to Knott's with friends. You don't regret anything. You say you should go again. You still want to go to Disneyland.

Southern California is its own state. Outsidrrs say "NorCal" and "Frisco" and wonder why locals stare. See's Candies are everywhere, every city has at least one. SoCal is dry and arid and has such a different climate from up north. There are forests in the north. You have never seen them.

There are abandoned train tracks everywhere. You want to walk along them. Your parents and friends say no. You ask why. They say its dangerous, they say there are coyotes on the tracks. They never say you might find a homeless camp. They don't need to; you already know. The homeless aren't dangerous. You stay away from them anyway.

You are chatting with an online friend. They say the snow is bad. They say their parents hate them for coming out. They say they don't feel safe at night because of the things outside. You are shocked. You know thses things can happen, but you never really believed they could before now. You tell them you are sorry. You try to understand what their life is like. You can't; you don't understand how their life is so different, yet they live in the same country as you.

LA to San Diego is 3 hours. LA to San Francisco is 8 hours. You have been to San Diego before. Its very nice. You've passed through it on your way to Mexico. You don't like coming back from Mexico; border patrol is scarier on that side. You worry that you will answer a question wrong and you will be kept on the wrong side of the border. You are a US citizen. You think about San Francisco. You've never been. It sounds lovely.

Your friend has a green card. You don't care; your friend is the same age as you, you met in elementary school. You hear a person in power talking about deportation. You are nervous for your friend. Your friend is a good person, their family is nice. Your friend wonders if they should take the citizenship test. You say nothing.

As a child, the police scared you. No one told you to be afraid of them, you just were. Now, you are still scared. At least this time, you know why.

You keep a bottle of baby powder in your car, right next to the beach towels and a scrubbie brush. "To get the sand off." You say to the questioning looks from the out of towner. You think they are visiting family. Most of your family lives here, and you don't remember who the outsider is related to. They gawk at the ocean. Its just the ocean.

Big Bear is pretty. Its always pretty. In the summer there's camps and in the winter there's snow. You go up for the day, once a year; its why you have a sled you never use.

Fourth of July is pretty cool. You get fireworks from the local high-school or local church, and you spend two hours setting them off. The pictures and video don't come out right, but it doesn't matter. You know this is a holiday celebrating America. You only care about the colors, and in the back of your mind, if someone might accidentally start a fire.

#california gothic #i feel extra today #fire #ocean #coyotes #pets #mountains #snow? what snow #california is really big #fuck the cops #border patrol is scary #tw; animal death #tw; gun mention

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re-diesirae · 3 years ago

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Prologue & Chapter 1

Prologue

Llanbister, Wales. March12th, 2016.

He was running late. He shouldn't have spent those few extra minutes waiting for that coffee, but then again, the traffic today was a nightmare. He had no idea of what was happening, but at this rate he wouldn't make it to the office until past noon.

The man drummed his finger against the glass of the window impatiently. The line of cars was not advancing at all and he could see the irritated drivers coming out trying to figure out what was happening. The man checked his hand watch and sighed. His office was barely a few blocks from where he was right now; he probably would make it less late if he just got off and did the trip by foot.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by poke on his shoulder. THe woman sitting by his side had suddenly dropped her head on him apparently asleep and he couldn't help but feel the annoyance building inside him.

"Ehm...excuse me, miss." he said trying to hide the irritation in his voice "Miss?"

Seeing that the woman wasn't responding to his words, he tried moving her to a better position. She was cold and he noticed that she was holding a bulk in her arms. No matter how much he shook her or called, the woman remained unresponsive.

A loud set of screams made him jump on his seat completely forgetting about the woman for a second. He looked out the window and he could see smoke coming from somewhere a few vehicles in front. Just like him, the other passengers in the bus were also trying to see what was happening outside with curiosity. Suddenly he was distracted by a stir at his side.

So…the woman had finally decided to wake up.

He turned around to see her and screeched in horror. The woman was suddenly covered by blood; it dripped out from any possible body hole: nostrils, eyes, mouth, ears...

She began murmuring some incoherent things that he could not understand, but before he could ask anything the woman had jumped over him with a roar. It was too quick for him to react as she stuck her teeth on his neck.

The last thing he would ever remember were the people running frantically inside the bus trying to escape, the smell of blood, pain and darkness and horrifying screams.

1. CLAIRE

North America TerraSave HQ, Hughesville. March 16th, 2016.

Claire let out a frustrated sigh as she dug into the fresh pile of paperwork on her desk. After her return from Sushestvivanie Island, the North American branch of Terrasave had fallen into chaos. The treason of one of its higher characters had caused the organization to falter, and people were starting to lose confidence in them. As a result, the directives decided that it was time to put a meaningful person in the head, and that was how she got promoted to branch chief. Despite the pretty office and the fancy title, the new rank brought even more problems into her already messy life. As expected by many, Claire had done a magnificent job as chief by proposing new plans and strategic protocols, among other things. She had done such a great job that the Chiefs from other branches asked her for advice regularly.

"Seriously," Claire sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. " I am not sure if I'd rather shoot zombies every day instead of signing all this paperwork."

Claire gave the file she had been reading one last look before signing and shutting the folder. She left the thing on the pile on her right and stretched her arms. It was then that she heard the shy knocking at her door, and the auburn headed sighed and told whoever it was to come in.

"Excuse me, Ms. Redfield," Madeleine, her secretary, said, peeking her head behind the door shyly, "I am sorry, but I've been knocking for about ten minutes. I was afraid that you might have collapsed."

Madeleine had been working as her secretary for a couple of months now. However, for some odd reason, the girl still acted a little nervous around her. Claire was aware that there was an innate Redfield trait that would sometimes make her intimidating, so she gave the girl her brightest smile, trying to calm her.

"Oh, sorry. I've been spacing out a lot lately. Did you need something? Please tell me you bring me something good and not another of those endless reports that I am supposed to sign."

Claire was feeling pathetic and bored, and she swore that if she had to sign another of those stupid reports, she would jump out through the window and hide somewhere away from there.

Madeleine laughed, feeling a little more relaxed, and shook her head.

"Oh, no. It isn't a report, Ms. Redfield," she replied, "And I supposed it counts as good news, in a way."

"Huh?" Claire said, tilting her head.

"You have visitors, Ms. Redfield."

"Visitors?" Claire repeated.

She looked at the clock on her desk and frowned. She was sure she didn't have anything booked in her Agenda for that afternoon. She wasn't even expecting guests that week.

"Well, a zombie may kill me," a familiar grave voice chuckled.

Claire's eyes widened in surprise, and her lips curled into a smile as she watched her brother's form step into the room with a teasing smirk. He was wearing casual clothes, something that was very odd these days. To her shock, Chris hadn't come alone. When the large man stepped aside, she saw Jill, Barry, Moira, and Leon enter as well. The latter was who made her even more surprised, as she had no idea of what had brought the agent to visit her today.

"Chris! What the...? What are you doing here?" said Claire, dropping her pen. Suddenly, a wave of panic ran through her body, and she looked at her visitors in a panic," Oh, no. Please, don't tell me there was another outbreak."

Her question caught everyone by surprise, but it was Moira's laugh that broke the tension.

"See what I told you?" the girl laughed, "She's been like this for a while. Whenever someone stops only to say hi, she automatically assumes you bring news of the apocalypse."

Claire rolled her eyes. The only reason she did that was that she had enough experience now to know when something was off.

"You would, too, if you had my job. I've gotten six outbreaks in the past two weeks..." Claire defended herself, "that ebola case in Congo and the Plagas thing in Mexico still has me on edge, so don't judge me."

"Ok, ok..." Moira said, raising her hands, "No one is judging."

Claire sighed. The woman turned to her brother and tilted her head.

"Please tell me there isn't another outbreak," she whispered, looking at Chris.

Chris scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Tch, do I need to be in a crisis to visit my baby sister?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I supposed not," Claire shrugged, "but considering your history and that fact that Leon is here, too. It is hard not to think otherwise."

Claire stood up and gave both men a questioning look.

Chris let out a chuckle as he pulled his sister into a warm hug. Claire couldn't remember the last time she'd felt her brother's hug, and she was happy to return it.

"Relax, Claire," Jill smiled, putting her hand on her shoulder, "We just returned from a mission, and we got a couple of weeks to rest. Since we happened to be around and Barry told us you were overworking yourself, we thought we should come to visit for a change."

"Ok, that's reasonable for you," Claire nodded.

Of course, Barry would tell them that since he probably heard it from Moira. The girl was always complaining about how little rest Claire got, but in her defense, the piles of paperwork kept growing, and she needed to finish them on time.

"What about James Bond?"

"Very funny, Claire," Leon sighed.

Claire smirked at him teasingly, and the blonde shook his head with a faint smile. She often teased him with that, and she was probably the only person from whom Leon accepted it.

" Pretty much the same. I came back from a mission, too. I was in the area and coincidentally stumbled with Chris," he answered, "he said he was going to visit you, and since I haven't seen you in a while, I decided to tag along. Is it true that you've been overworking yourself, Claire?"

Claire laughed.

"I guess that's a plus from my promotion," she sighed, and then she quickly added, as she saw Leon give her a skeptical look, "It's alright. The whole thing is more boring than anything else. Just paperwork and stuff, you know. The sort of thing that Chris hates the most."

Claire punched her brother's muscular arm playfully, and Chris answered the gesture by hugging her by the shoulders.

Jill laughed at the comment, while Barry nodded gravely. No one knew how much Chris hated paperwork better than his partners. Both Barry and Chris would do anything to avoid that, so it was Jill who ended up dealing with that.

"Well, it must be some hellish paperwork, then," Leon said, frowning, "You don't look too well."

"Geez, thanks, Leon, but you are one to talk..." Claire said, rolling her eyes, "No, wait. You never look bad, so how would you know."

Leon smirked at her teasing but said nothing else.

"I know what Claire needs to look livelier. How about we grab a bite?" Barry suggested, "I am starving, and I can swear for my Magnum that Claire needs to put on some weight. Seriously, girl. Are you even eating your meals?"

"Yes, I am, Barry," Claire answered, "Are you here to lecture me on my eating habits?"

"Nah, that's Kathy's thing," Barry laughed, "but you're seriously too thin."

"Blame my quick metabolism for that, but talking about food. I think I can take that offer, but you, Barry, are treating me."

"Sure thing, whatever it takes to put some fat on those bones, girl," Barry smirked, patting her back.

It was rare to have all her friends and family reunited in the same place at the same time, and Claire couldn't deny she felt happy, but Claire's happiness always came with a tiny thorn of doubt. No matter how well things looked, a part of her was waiting for something ominous to happen and make that happiness crumble. She wasn't always like that, but after so many bad experiences, she couldn't help it.

No more than a few minutes had passed since the thought had crossed her mind that she found her prediction coming true. The group was walking out of the office when the harsh echo of the emergency alarm began to ring. They all looked around in confusion, and Claire bit her lip with worry.

"What's that?" Chris asked.

"Isn't that the emergency alarm?" Moira asked, looking at Claire, "That thing has never rung before, has it?"

"No, never..." Claire said with a frown. She picked the radio she carried on her waist and began calling into it.

"Red? Do you copy?" a cracked voice called through the radio.

Claire let out a sigh and answered the call, fearing the news that it'd bring.

"I'm here, Grant. Would you mind explaining why the alarm is ringing?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. There was a security breach. Someone hacked into the system and set out all the safety protocols."

"What?" Claire sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Again? Please tell me you are doing something about that."

"Ah, yeah. I am at it," Grant replied, "where are you now?"

"Standing in front of my office door," Claire said, looking at Madeleine. The girl was sitting at her desk and turning pale.

"I got an S.O.S call from Saya," Grant replied, "Things are a fucking mess. All the security protocols in the laboratories got activated, and people got either locked in or locked out. I tried to help remotely, but the hacking messed up with the system, and it's rejecting me. I am trying to fix things up, so I can't go and reset it manually. Mind lending a hand and taking a look? I think your master code should work."

"If it is rejecting yours, what makes you think mine will work?"

"Well, your code works differently, and even if it fails, I trust you can figure out a way to solve it in situ. Just try not to toast my circuits."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What happened the last time?"

Claire rolled her eyes.

"Fine. You fix up this mess. I'll head to R&D."

"Roger to that."

Claire put the radio away and groaned.

"Sorry," she told her friends. "I hope you don't mind a detour and a slight delay on that lunch date?"

"Well, we don't mind," Barry replied, "Duty is important."

"What happened?" Chris asked, "is there anything we can do to help?"

The group walked to the emergency stairs, followed closely by her brother and friends.

"Ah, never mind. It's just another false alarm," Claire sighed, "It's another attempt to wreck our security system. These pro-terrorists have taken it up against TerraSave, lately. This incident is the first time they succeed, though. No surprise, Grant is so pissed off. He controls the whole cybersecurity system in the building. His pride must hurt."

"Grant?" Jill asked.

"Grant Wallace," Moira chuckled. "Claire's little fanboy and the head of cybersecurity."

"Fanboy?" Jill asked curiously.

"Don't ask," Claire replied, rolling her eyes.

"Hardcore fanboy," Moria smirked, "and not shameful about it. How many times has he asked you out?"

"Out of topic."

Moira smirked and wagged her eyebrows meaningfully.

"So, pro-terrorists?" Leon asked, and Claire innerly thanked him for changing the subject.

"Well, Mr. Government agent, I would have expected you to know about it. It seems there's a significant group of people who believe TerraSave is causing more damage than good. The organization has made its enemies, and the situation with Fisher made our credibility fall apart. We get tons of threats daily."

Claire had, purposely, omitted the detail about the fact that more than 80% of the threats were specifically for her. She could deal with the nuisance, and there was no need to worry about them with silly pranks.

"Those extremists see anyone that goes against their ideas as enemies. Everyone knows the effort that TerraSave has put into helping people in need, Claire," said Chris, placing his hand on her shoulder. "You are all doing a good job."

Claire smiled at her brother. She didn't recall when was the last time she had Chris physically by her side. They spoke regularly by phone unless he was on a mission on some decrepit corner of the world and out of reach, but having the flesh and bones Chris was somehow soothing, especially now. The younger Redfield had been having some issues recently. Her paranoia and neuroticism had been keeping her awake at night. A part of her was unconsciously awaiting a calamity, but having her brother close was a rare comfort.

They reached the fifth level of the building, and Claire led the group through the door and into a corridor with white walls.

"Well, I just had a deja vu," Chris said, shuddering.

Claire snorted. The corridor would surely remind them of many of the bioterrorist laboratories they had visited in their career in the BSAA. However, it was the standard design of any health and investigation facility.

"Don't worry," Claire smiled, "We don't make bioweapons here."

"Fuck no," Moira agreed.

"Where exactly are we now?" Leon asked curiously.

Claire smiled again, this time with some pride. Level five and six held restricted access, so even most members of TerraSave had no access to the place. Chris had visited the building on several occasions, but he'd never stepped into this area either, and Leon had only come once, so she wasn't surprised that he seemed a little confused.

Claire was sure that Leon expected the place to look like a conventional office, but he found laboratories instead.

"Research and development, Level four. Biosafety and Public Health department," Claire explained, "We do some research on disease treatments and control. We work continuously to develop effective countermeasures during outbreaks. Health care systems, communication, medicines, among other things."

"You are developing vaccines?" Leon asked, "here?"

"I had no idea TerraSave could do that," Jill said, surprised.

"No, unfortunately, we lack the resources to develop vaccines. However, we can provide data to companies to help, and we can design treatments for disease, but we don't have enough power to produce vaccines."

"We have the brains, though. Right, Claire?" Moire said, grinning.

"I have no doubt we do. We have many competent researchers."

The group turned around the corner and reached an area with several glass doors. The lights on their electronic locks were red and blinking, and a tall woman with long black hair and Asian features was pacing back and forth in front of the door restlessly.

"Saya," Claire said, surprised.

"Ah, god bless us. You're just the person I wanted to see," the woman said.

"Well, I'm happy to be a sight to sore eyes, I suppose. You got locked out?"

"Isn't that obvious?" the woman asked with a frown, "I went to get some papers from the office next door when the alarm rang. All the doors got locked. I tried my master code, and guess what, it rejected it."

"Any sensible essay I should be worried about?" Claire asked, opening the panel and fidgeting with the buttons.

"Well, not on my part, but some people were working in lab3."

"They will run out of Air if we take too long," Claire sighed, "Let's hope it won't reject my master code."

"I am sure that you can figure out some other way if that happens," the Asian said, "though maybe something less explosive than the last time."

"Are you all going to keep reminding me that?" Claire said, rolling her eyes.

Claire pressed the buttons in the panel. Finally, after tampering with the electronic log several times, the red light turned green, and all the locks chimed, indicating that they were open.

"Bingo," Claire said, closing the panel.

"As expected from Fix-it-all Redfield," the Asian woman chuckled, "You're an angel."

"Oh my god, so the fix-it-all title was for real?" Moira asked.

It was because of Moira's sudden outburst that Claire and Saya remembered that there were other people present.

"Oh, my. Where are my manners," Saya said, looking at Claire, "Who might these be?"

Claire scoffed and turned to her friends.

"You know Moira, of course, this is her dad, Barry; this is my brother Chris, his partner Jill Valentine, and my old friend Leon Kennedy."

"Oh, friends of our chief are friends to me. I am Saya Hiwamura."

Saya shook everyone's hand politely.

"She's a doctor and one of our active researchers."

"You give me too much credit," Saya said with dismissal, "We all know the one doing most of the work here is you, Ms. Fix-it-all."

"Can you stop with the nickname?"

"Why? We know it brings good luck."

"That rumor has been running around the members for a while now," Moira explained to her father and friends, "everyone says that when something isn't working, you must come to Claire. She will fix it."

"Oh, that's a horrible lie, and the reason why my work load keeps piling up."

"Well, that's your fault for being good at this job," Moira laughed, "If you sucked, no one would ask for your advice."

"If I sucked, this branch would sink deeper."

"You can't blame yourself for that," Moira said, "That's fucker Neil's doing."

Claire shrugged. Suddenly, they were interrupted by the sound of Claire's radio. The woman answered it and got greeted by a lot of static.

"Hey, Redfield. Do you copy?"

"Yeah, Grant. What's wrong with your signal? It sounds so bad."

"Not...sure. Probably interference," the voice answered, "Hey, can you come to the Command Center? I've got troubles here, and I would like you to take a look."

"Me? You are the tech guru, not I. If you can't fix this mess, then I can't either."

"Oh, I am sure you can fix this. Come down here, and you'll see."

Saya gave Claire an amused smile, and the auburn headed caught Moira snickering.

"Fine. I'll be there in a minute."

Claire put the radio away and groaned. She turned to her friends and gave them an apologetic look.

"Sorry, I have got to check this," she sighed.

"Wallace calling for you, huh?" Saya smirked, "He'd use any excuse to have you pay him a visit, wouldn't he?"

"This is purely professional. I don't know what Grant wants me to see, but I am sure it is important," Claire shrugged, "Would you mind entertaining my friends until I'm back?"

"Oh, no. I am happy to oblige," Saya smiled at the group.

"Are you sure you don't want us to help?" Chris asked, but Claire waved her hand.

"I am sure it's nothing. Grant is a dork sometimes, but he knows his deal. The security system in the building is tight. I am sure they just messed up with the alarms and stuff, nothing more than a bad prank."

"Are you sure?" Jill said, "We don't mind helping."

"It's fine. I'll check, and I'll be back in a jiffy. We can get that lunch then."

Claire patted her brother's back and walked down the hallway until she disappeared around the corner, leaving the group behind.

Claire reached the basement, where the Command Center was. The alarm had finally stopped ringing, and the woman was happy to hear silence at last. The loud whistle was starting to cause her a headache.

Everything seemed to be in order, but she had an odd feeling in her gut. However, the woman brushed it off as her paranoia, kicking into action. She had seen several people on her way down, but once she reached the basement, she felt it unusually quiet.

"You are overthinking, Claire," she told herself as she pushed the door to Grant's office open.

The room was empty and dark, except for the tiny lights coming from the equipment. That was the first thing to set off her alarm. From all the rooms in the building, that room was the only one that never looked dark. Even if the lights were off, Grant's monitors would still light it up enough.

"Grant?" Claire called.

There was no answer and Claire's gut twisted. Something was wrong, and she was automatically on edge. Her clear eyes tried to scan the room for danger, but with the little light, it was difficult for her to see if there were any threats.

It was a good thing that her instinct was fast to react. Otherwise, she wouldn't have evaded the dark figure that tackled her from behind the door.

Claire rolled over the ground and stood up in a jump, taking a fighting position. The woman landed a clean kick on the ribs, sending the black-suited person against the wall.

Her attacker was surprised by her reaction, perhaps he taught that Claire was an easy target, but she wasn't. The woman was ready to fight if she had to. Claire hit the man several times, but the man dodged one of her hits and pushed her against the table, slamming her head against the polished wood.

The attacker was sturdier and stronger than her, and he had the advantage in the fight. However, she'd learned to fight from Chris, and he had taught her many ways to overcome that disadvantage. Claire's knee hit the man in the stomach, knocking the air out of him. Using that distraction, she grabbed his head and slammed it against the table several times until the man fell to the floor unconscious.

"Well, crap," Claire gasped, rubbing her head and trying to recover her breath.

She was about to check who the man was when a second man, who she had not seen before, attacked her. The auburn headed struggled against the man, leaving a mess in the small office.

It was at the last minute that Claire realized that there was a third person in the room, but she was too late. The third attacker raised his shotgun and hit her head with it.

The impact was painful, and it made her lose her balance. The second hit knocked her out, and the last thing she felt was a crushing pain on her backs as she faded away.

#Cleon #fanfic #my fanfiction #leon x claire #claire redfield #claire x leon #resident evil #leon s kennedy #chris redfield

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flying-nightwing · 4 years ago

Text

Double Cross (Jason Todd)

Hi people! So this is my little project I was talking about. A sudden blurb of inspiration led me to this and uh. Here it is! Once again, this is super experimental so yeah idk about its potential. You’ll be the judge of that I guess

This time I worked on time jumps back and forth and perspectives, so let me know how it turned out!

Masterlist in bio/pinned!

Pairing: Jason Todd x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 6937

Warnings: swearing, uhhh idk it’s dc so you know what you’re into

-- 36 hours ago --

Your heart was beating hard against your ribcage as you flew down Washington DC's streets. Your motorcycle was burning under you, and you had a feeling you were on the clock to get off of this ticking time bomb before it exploded and brought you down with it. The bullet holes broke the black paint, decorating your bike in a way that flagged unwanted attention. About six blocks ago, unmarked cars had joined your fast paced parade across the city.

A terrible mistake, all of this was. That was certain.

You took a sharp right, your knee scraping on the asphalt on the way. An infernal noise came out of your bike, but you still willed it to accelerate on the straight alley. You shot back on the main roads like a bullet, swerving around the black police car that had tried to cut you off. But soon enough, you saw the blockade on the street in front of you. You could never jump it with your bike so in disarray, and there were no viable alleys to sneak into. You shut your eyes tight for a moment, then exhaled.

"I'm sorry Jason" You muttered to yourself. "But you left me no choice"

With a firm grip, you pressed the brakes and came to a stop a fair distance from the blockade. You turned off your bike and kicked the foot to hold it up, slowly getting off and pulling your hands up. Shouts erupted around you as the police mobilised themselves in tight formations, guns up and ready to shoot. With one hand up, you undid your tinted black helmet and let it fall to the ground.

"On your knees!" An officer shouted as he approached. "Keep your hands where I can see them"

You complied.

-- Now --

The white of the neons glaring down on you made your already tired eyes hurt, saturating your vision with a harsh and constant flash of light. You were left alone with a room temperature glass of water on your left and your own reflection on your right. You couldn’t hear them, but you knew they were there, observing you. Instead, all you could see was the dark bags under your eyes and your messy greasy hair.

You perked up when two men in suits came in by the door in front of you, thin files in their hands and calculating glances. They were nicely dressed, one with a gray suit and the other, black. Both suits were obviously tailored to them. They sat down in front of you and observed you before the one in the gray suit spoke. Dark hair, blue eyes, taller than the other, maybe around six feet.

“Good morning, Agent”

You only nodded, looking down to the table.

“My name is Agent Baker,” He said. “My colleague here is Agent Tanev. We will proceed to your debriefing”

“Sure” You nodded again.

Agent Baker set a recording device on the desk and turned it on. “Please tell us again why you are here today”

“I am--” You paused, clearing your throat. “I am here today to deliver crucial information on a wanted criminal in exchange for a pardon”

“Which wanted criminal should that be?”

“The Red Hood” You said, meeting his eyes. “I have names of associates, safe houses locations, frequent territories of operation as well as his specific m.o.”

“How come you know all of this?” He asked, his voice neutral. “No seasoned agent has ever managed to get this close to him, let alone a rookie. We want to know how you gained his trust, start from the beginning, spare no details. Leave nothing out”

“I met the Red Hood during operation 7381 in northern Lithuania” You began as Agent Tanev started to take notes. “I was in the back up team for the extraction of General Kradiev from a local opposant group. I wasn’t supposed to even see action, as it should have been simple enough against an untrained mob, but when is it ever…”

They had known you were coming. A whole grab and go operation had been compromised by the feeling of invincibility of the CIA, that looked down so much on whoever they went against that they never stopped to think that maybe--maybe--they were prepared.

So when the Alpha team stormed the country house where the General was supposed to be kept and found it empty, all action plans were thrown out the window. The Beta team was mobilised to close off all the roads surrounding the area and to search for the hostage. You were ordered to search a single decaying house in between two pine trees because the structure was so old, so nobody could have ever been hiding in its debris. However, as you were leaving, you heard whimpers coming from the cellar a few feet away from the foundations. Carefully, you made your way to the wooden doors on the ground, and after making sure your magazine was full and the safe of your semi automatic off, you kicked the doors open and raced down the stairs.

“Don’t move or I’ll blow your head off” You yelled, pointing your gun at the first person you saw. It was clearly a man, wearing a bright red helmet that shone under the single lightbulb hanging down from the ceiling. He slowly held up his hands, but he didn’t seem so bothered. Your eyes found another man next, tied to a chair and wearing a bag on his head. The military uniform was a dead giveaway of his identity, so you returned your full attention to the red helmet guy. “You’re going to back up and face the wall now”

“Or what?” He challenged. “You’ll ‘blow my head off’?”

“Shut up!” You barked, taking a step forward. Your firearm was ready to shoot. “Do as I fucking say”

“You’re CIA uh?” He changed the subject, looking down at your marked bulletproof vest and not listening to you. In fact, he didn’t seem worried at all by the situation he was in. “Should have known. You guys have never cared who lived or died. What fucking difference does it make, as long as they’re good pals with the good ol’ US of A right?”

“God would you just fucking shut up and back up” You were getting impatient, but also nervous. You were alone without backup, with a guy in a red helmet who was clearly taunting you, and you had never shot anyone before. It was your first oversea mission, and already it was fucking catastrophic.

“See, that’s the thing” He held a finger up. “You’re pointing a gun at me like I’m the bad guy, while you are trying to rescue the scum of humanity. You’re going to extract him, give him a nice long life on Florida’s golf courses with the taxpayers' money and wipe out from History the mass graves in the woods two miles away”

You remained silent.

“Oh, did you not know about the mass graves?” He asked rhetorically in a mocking tone. “Your friend here decided he wanted to test the new shipment of automatic weapons, because their bullets per minute capacity had been expanded. And what better targets than the group of students that opposed the american military presence in the country? The youngest was 16 and her name was Vera Beliskava. Isn’t that right, Kradiev?”

He pulled the hood from the general to reveal his bloodied and bruised face. He had been gagged and beaten, that was obvious. He looked at you, pleading.

“You’re the only one who saw” The man in red said, softer this time. “You don’t have to save that piece of trash. Just say your search came up empty and I’ll make him disappear from the Earth's face permanently without leaving so much as a trace. Nobody else will know, and you will go to sleep knowing you made the world a better place”

You took a breath, a million thoughts running into your head. Who was that guy? Why was he here? Why did he not attack you, while he clearly had a handgun strapped on his thigh? Could he be right about Kradiev? You knew he didn’t have the cleanest record concerning human rights, but mass graves?

“Beta team, report”

You both froze as your comm broke the silence. He gave you a challenging look as you were still debating. You wanted to do good, that’s why you went into the secret services. Being complicit in mass murder wasn’t something you signed up on.

“Nothing to report on the north road”

“Clear in the valley”

“Farmer’s house empty”

“No traffic on the south road”

You knew it was your turn now. Slowly, you reached for your comm, not breaking eye contact.

“Pinetree house’s clear” You spoke in a flat line, decided and direct as you lowered your gun. You shut down your comm and glanced at Kradiev, whose relief morphed into fear once again as your decision registered. You averted your eyes.

“You made the right choice”

“I hope so, or I’m dead” You mumbled. “I’m going back now. Don’t make me regret my decision”

“You won’t”

“So just to be clear,” Agent Baker frowned. “You just… Believed him? And you let General Kradiev in his hands?”

“When I left, I went to check, and the graves were there. Kradiev was guilty”

“That was not your decision to make” He pointed out.

“I know” You sighed. “That was my first mistake. I-- I lost it for a moment. He mentioned the graves and the victims and there were so many people the same age as them I could think about and I decided with my feelings rather than my judgement. And I’m paying the price today”

“Alright” He mumbled, passing a hand on his face like he was already done with this debriefing. “When did you cross paths with him again?”

“We were back in America” You continued. “By that time, I was no longer on training wheels. It was a little more than a year later, in Newport Oregon during operation 9004. We were busting a trans pacific drug dealer on the docks when we got unexpected company…”

You were running as well as you could through the maze of freight containers on the docks, trying to push back the pain of the bullet in your leg. You had drawn the fire of the hired gang so your colleagues could proceed, but things went down the drain when you were met with heavier fire than the briefing stated. Outnumbered and outran, you stopped in your tracks and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You wouldn’t go out as a coward, that was certain. If you went down, you’d take as many of them as you could with you.

You reopened your eyes and checked the magazine of your gun, letting it drop on the ground and pushing a full one in. You loaded and clicked the safe off, flexing your fingers on the handle as footsteps surrounded you. You spun around and pulled the trigger, but before the bullet even reached your target, two men dropped on his side.

You weren’t the only shooter.

Thinking it was backup from your team, you allowed yourself to back up against a container, trying to stop the bleeding. You were starting to feel light headed, but you still had a bit more fight in you. Soon enough, all hostiles were down, and you were in for a surprise. Instead of the black uniform of your colleagues, you looked up to a red bat, a leather jacket and a familiar red helmet. You squinted your eyes and let out a chuckle of disbelief.

“Do I even wanna know?” You asked.

“I owed you one” He shrugged. “You okay?”

You looked down to your leg, your pants soaked in blood that was already cooling, then back up again. “Peachy” You gave him a thumbs up. “You were right about Kradiev. He was a fucking trash bag”

“It’s often the case” He said as he rested his hands on his hips.

“You here for Hiko?”

“Yep” He nodded, then snorted derisively. “Any tips?”

Ever since Kradiev, you have developed a habit of researching your target better. Most of the time, it was a capture or an execution on site, so it didn’t matter the extent of their crimes. But there were moments when you were extracting the package without knowing what came next, and those times usually meant they’ll make them disappear under a new identity, without giving them any repercussion for their actions. This one, Hiko, was the later case, without any plan revealed for when you get him back. He was a known drug trafficker, but he was also rumored to smuggle people back and forth between Asia and North America through the docks he owned. The Red Hood’s appearance was well timed, to say the least.

“Sneak past the squad through the east” You panted. “If you can move on top of the containers without being seen or heard, you’ll cut them off with about two minutes to spare. Make sure you’re gone with Hiko when they bust through the door, or neither of us will ever find him again”

He paused, studying you. “Thanks…” He trailed off. “Why are you telling me this again?”

“Well, you said it yourself” You managed to smirk. “If I can go to sleep knowing I made the world a better place”

He didn’t answer with anything else but a quick nod before he climbed the containers and disappeared from your field of vision. You sighed, then reached for your comm. “Alpha 003 to central, I’m down and need medical attention, Northwest entry of the docks”

“So if I understand correctly, not only you let him go again,” Baker exhaled, looking bewildered. “But you told him how to get there first? You realize those are becoming serious crimes right?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t” You snapped, before recomposing yourself. Both agents had backed away just a little at your outburst. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Sorry. I’m just tired, it’s been a crazy last two days”

“Did he offer you any medical help then?” Baker returned on topic.

“No, I called the medics and I was extracted with the chopper” You replied. “I knew he was there for Hiko, not for me. It was a coincidence we crossed paths, and at that point I thought it was the last time I’d see him. I mean, what are the chances, right? But you see, that here was my second mistake”

“How so?”

“The CIA goes after threats to national security, but so does he, in his own way” You said, locking eyes with Baker. “The guy’s everywhere, even where we don’t go. And he’s at least three steps ahead of us at any turn. He has good funds, good intel and exceptional skills. You don’t find him, he finds you. And that’s what he did”

“He contacted you after the affair on the docks?” He raised an eyebrow.

“We could say that...”

You finished washing your tea cup when you heard a thud coming in from your living room. Slowly, you grabbed the gun hidden in your cupboard and held it up, quietly making your way to the next room. You rounded the corner and pointed your gun to the man standing with his back to you, registering his identity as he turned around. You must have been a sight in your baby pink pajama shorts and mismatching turquoise tank top, pointing your handgun to a man in a shiny red helmet.

You scoffed and lowered your gun, clicking the safe back on and putting the firearm on the lamp table. “Breaking and entering, really?”

“Wouldn’t be the worst crime I’ve committed” He shrugged, and you could just imagine him rolling his eyes, whoever he was under that helmet.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, crossing your arms against your chest. “How did you find me?”

“Like I find anyone” He answered like it was the simplest of evidence. You waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have no intention to reveal his methods. This time, you rolled your eyes. “And I’m here because I wanted to check on your leg”

“No you’re not” You snorted. He would have come months ago if it was about that, and even then, the little you knew about him told you he was not the kind to just check upon people who didn’t mean anything to him. “But I’m doing fine, thanks”

“You’re welcome” He nodded. “And you’re right. I need something from you”

“Well, go ahead, since you’re already in” You gestured at him to go on.

“Wait wait wait” Baker held his hand up. “He broke into your house and you just let him? You put your gun down and didn’t call anyone?”

“Yeah, that’s what I just said” You replied slowly.

“And it never occured to you that he was dangerous?”

You paused, thinking your answer over. “No, it didn’t. I mean, if he wanted to get rid of me, he would have done it on the docks where I was an easy target”

“Fair point” Tanev muttered under his breath, earning him a glare from Baker.

“Now do you want to know what happened or not?” You said, annoyed at the interruption.

“Please, go ahead”

He reached inside his jacket and handed you a file. You took it and opened it, staring at the picture and the description beside it. “This is Ian Markstrom, he has been suspected to kidnap young women, mostly tourists, to sell them on the sex trafficking market” He began. “Not only is he friends with your big bosses, but those who were brave enough to try and get him locked up never got anything to stick, and that was the best case scenario. The others either disappeared or ended up dead, so I’m assuming someone in this government does not want Markstrom to stop”

You nodded. “What can I do for you?”

“There’s a secret auction strictly reserved for the elite, Markstrom will sell his best teenagers there” He explained, a hint of disgust in his voice. “The CIA chief of operation received an invitation. I want to know what it says on the card”

“I’m not sure I’m good enough to reach anywhere near it” You mumbled. “But sure, I’ll try”

“No, I believe in you” He said, and he seemed pretty sure of himself. You raised an eyebrow to hide your surprise at his compliment. “What I’m wondering though, is why you’re not asking questions”

“Well, you are two in two so far about targeting the bad guy” You said after a moment. “You seem qualified to spot ‘em, and you’d be real twisted to to make up that scenario for a petty revenge, so I’m guessing you’re on the mark again”

“Huh. You might just be the only smart CIA agent I’ve ever met”

You snorted. “Well, the more it goes the more I’m questioning the integrity of my employer”

“You keep impressing me”

“With what I saw, I believe the bar was pretty low to start with”

“Keep talking like this and I might need a cold shower”

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

He let out a short bark of laughter. “If only you knew”

“I’ll do my best for the invitation” You brought him back on topic, closing the file and putting it beside your handgun. “How can I contact you if I get it?”

He paused, then took a step forward and grabbed your wrist. He fetched a pen from his jacket and wrote a number. “This is a burner phone, which I will destroy after this whole deal. Don’t try and trace me with that, it won’t end well for you”

“Yeah yeah” You rolled your eyes, pulling back your arm when he was done. You cleared your throat, trying to ignore his overwhelming proximity. “I gave you two fast passes just to trick you into seeking my help to finally bag you, I’m busted”

“Hey, listen” He backed up, holding his hand in surrender. “I make that threat to everyone. It’s only a disclosure thing, I didn’t doubt your motivation”

“To each their own I guess” You shrugged. “Alright. If this is all, please get out of my apartment”

“Oop, sure”

Baker blinked slowly. “And did you? Communicate him the details?”

“Yeah” You nodded. “I managed to get into the chief of operation’s office, break into his safe, memorize the date, time and place of the auction and communicate it to Red”

“Red?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Short for Red Hood” Tanev clarified, and judging by yet another glare from Baker, he wouldn’t speak anytime soon.

“He kept it on the quiet, but after that the chief of operation did seem a changed man” You smirked, before dropping it instantly. “And I didn’t hear anything from Markstrom, it was like he disappeared for good, which he most likely did. So I guess the Red Hood succeeded in taking him down”

“Jesus Christ” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Why do I have the feeling it wasn’t the last law you broke?”

“Because it wasn’t”

“Are you going to make a habit out of dropping out of nowhere to ask me for favors?”

This time, you knew who had broken into your property without even looking. You put the keys into your car and turned the engine on, trying to warm yourself. The Red Hood pulled himself upright from your backseat, shaking his head.

“Your car is very comfortable,” He declared. “You have good taste”

“So that means yes”

“Back at it again with your superior deduction skills”

“What do you want?” You went straight to the point, but you were just a little amused. You could have a worst stalker.

“I’ve been thinking this through,” He began, moved his legs so he was properly seated on the backseat. “You are skilled and you’ve got balls of steel. I could use your help more often. A partnership, if you might”

“Why do I have the feeling it took a lot to admit that and reach out?”

“Because I don’t just trust people” He said plainly. “They disappoint me, among other things”

“So why me?”

“Like I said, skills and balls of steel” He repeated. “You went against the fucking CIA not once, not twice but thrice to do the right thing. That’s enough of a test of will for me. And besides, your job would be an advantage that is hard to turn away”

“Makes sense” You mumbled as you put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. He buckled his belt like it was a reflex. “Will this partnership imply me shooting bad guys?”

“If that’s what you wish for” He shrugged, leaning forward in the space between the two front seats. “I won’t be the one to limit you”

“Okay, yeah” You nodded. “Where do we start?”

Baker was looking into nothing, processing your words. He shook his head slowly in disbelief before he met your glance. “I shouldn’t be surprised” He spoke after a moment. “But this is Everest high levels of stupid”

“At that time it did seem like a good idea”

“Yeah, might as well jump off of a bridge…” He trailed off, eying you suspiciously. “Did you do that too?”

“Well, if we consider the time when--”

“You know what, don’t tell me” He cut you off. “Please go on”

“Alright” You held your hands up in surrender. “So, where was I?”

You and the Red Hood operated on the field like a well oiled machine. Your expertise and contacts with the CIA helped him get into places way more easily than alone, and your somewhat reckless ways were compatible with his mode of operation. You knew who he was as well, you found out after he nonchalantly took off his helmet after a stakeout. You had not been prepared for what you saw then, when you were faced with what you could qualify with the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

“Hey, you okay?” He waved a hand in your face, making you snap out your daze. You blinked a few times, shaking it off.

“Yeah” You replied. “I just wasn’t expecting this”

“Expecting what?”

“I mean, the helmet did give disfiguration vibes… Obviously I was wrong”

“So you think I’m hot then?” He snorted derisively.

“I do”

His head did a whiplash. “Huh?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” You backed away. “Sometimes my filter doesn’t work”

“No it’s--” He tried to find his words, then sighed. “I’m just not used to that, I guess”

“What’s the point of this?” Baker groaned, his head in his hands.

“It’s a turning point that brought me here today” You explained, turning your palm up briefly. “You asked for details, I’m giving you details”

“I kinda wanna know what went down, to be honest” Tanev added sheepishly.

“Tanev, I’m going to drive you through the mirror if you do not shut up”

“Jeez sorry” He mumbled.

“As I was saying”

That day was the moment things changed in your relationship. There was this tension that hadn’t been there before, the little brushes of hands when you were side by side, the staring at the other while they weren’t looking, the unspoken invitations to stay a moment longer after a mission for a cigarette and a good conversation. He was one of a kind, you had to give that to him. He was passionate, driven, smart in a way that told you he never really had it easy but always made it work somehow; the way he always thought of the less obvious way to do things, how even his messes seemed calculated.

It was raining in Chicago and the air was crisp. Your muscles ached from the fight in that warehouse against drug lords that enrolled kids in their schemes, that and from the unforgiving cold of January. You had one too many whiskeys back in that little studio flat he rented under a false name, and it led you straight to his bed. Trying to find warmth, trying to find a connection, it didn’t matter why, as long as you were as close as humanly possible to him.

And it didn’t stop there. The night after, and the night after that, always in his company past the business hours. Your chemistry translated way beyond the field, for you found him in a partner in more ways than one. You grew quickly to feel love for him, more than you had ever felt for anyone. The number of times you woke up naked and tangled with him--

“Okay I don’t need to know this-- I do NOT need to know this” Baker yelled. If he could have flipped shit from the table, you’re sure he would have.

“You told me to spare no details!” You argued. “This is a detail. I’m being as thorough as I can”

“You know what-- Forget it” He brushed his hand in the air aggressively. “Just get to the part we have interest in, for God’s sake please just skip to that”

“Okay, okay” You muttered, rolled your eyes. “It went well for the first months or so, it was great. Nothing to say on that front, I was happy and fulfilled in this new englobing partnership we had going on. That was my third mistake, to get into that kind of involvement with him. Because then, like all good things must come to an end, mine slowly began crumbling down in my hands”

“Okay” He sighed, half in relief. “Tell me more about that”

“Well, he started to show his true colors” You admitted, pulling your hands under the table. “Sometimes, he became something else. Something dark. And sometimes became most of the time, but I was too in love to see it. He became manipulative, controlling. He was everywhere, in everything I did. It’s like I didn’t even have control on my life anymore…”

“Where do you wanna eat?”

You looked away from the car window, your feet comfortably up on the dash. You took a deep breath and shrugged. “Dunno, where do you wanna eat?”

“Don’t really care” He shrugged too. “You decide”

“What about chipotle?”

“Sure” He nodded. “Chipotle sounds good”

Tanev shook his head sympathetically. “He wouldn’t even let you choose a restaurant?”

“Never” You looked down, sadness weighing your voice.

“I’m so sorry you had to live through that”

“Thank you”

“Alright, moving on” Baker broke the moment. “What happened next?”

“Next? Next came what comes every time in screwed up relationships” You answered, returning your hands on the table and crossing your fingers. “We burned like a meteorite as it tears through the atmosphere, falling to our demise to high velocity and taking everything in our wake”

“That was poetic” He pointed out sarcastically. “What the fuck does it mean?”

You raised an eyebrow. “We got dangerous for real, Agent Baker” You paused to take a reserved sip of the water. “If you thought I was reckless before, you’ll need to reevaluate your scale. I was in for real. I was his battle horse, his wildcard, his whatever that he needed to succeed. And I was good at it. The worst was, I didn’t even realize he used me as a smoke screen. He put me more and more often in fucked up situations that were way more dangerous for me than him, and I was naive enough to think it was love”

“No. This is not up for discussion”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You said you would let me choose--”

“I said I would let you choose, not let yourself get killed” He interrupted, slightly raising his voice. “This plan of yours is stupid dangerous. If it backfires, you are almost guaranteed of not making it out free, or alive for that matter. I’m not allowing you to take that risk. Not for me.”

“Again, ‘if’ being the keyword” You insisted, following him as he stomped out of the storage room. “I am capable of executing it flawlessly. I know I am, you’ve always told me I am”

He halted his steps, hesitantly turning to face you. His eyes softened as he sighed, taking your hand. “I know you can, it’s not about that” His voice was back down, even lower than his usual volume. “I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you for something I dragged you into in the first place, I would never forgive myself”

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead on his. “Okay” You finally said, nodding lightly. “We’ll find another way. Another plan. But we’re hitting that ball out of the park either way, I won’t let Preston get away with it”

He smiled. “Oh no, we won't indeed” He kissed the top of your head. “We’ll get him one way or another, I promise”

“I almost feel sorry for you now, Agent” Baker gulped. “I cannot begin to imagine what terrible things the Red Hood forced you to do under his manipulation. We however must continue this debriefing”

“Of course” You nodded quickly, breathing deeply. “So we planned our next move, but he wouldn’t tell me the final target. I found it weird, he always told me the targets. I don’t know, maybe he sensed I was trying to find a way out”

“And that plan was…”

“Yes” You didn’t have to let him finish his trailing thoughts, you knew what he was getting at. “So this brings us to 36 hours ago”

“Be as thorough as you can”

“So the Red Hood gave me those instructions to follow” You began. “I was to draw the attention of the authorities to me in a city wide chase. Now, I am rather good with a bike, that I won’t hide, but outrunning police and secret services? That was impossible. I still don’t know how they got there, but it saved me. He would have never dared to come into the melee to get me back, and risk getting caught”

“Was he not afraid you’d talk to us?” Baker asked. “That was a pretty big gamble”

“He thought I wouldn’t talk I guess, probably for the same reasons I stayed with him for all this time” You said, biting the inside of your cheek until it bled. You hated to think about these words. “Because I believed I loved him”

“I guess that wouldn’t be too far fetched” He hummed. “Wouldn’t be the first time we saw it happen”

You nodded, remaining silent. Baker made eye contact with Tanev, then looked into the reflecting glass. He took a deep breath and returned his attention to you.

“We are going to get you back to the holding cell while we process this information” He said. “But once we do that, you’ll be free, and with a new identity if you wish, as your agreement states”

“Thank you”

“Just one more thing before we wrap this debriefing” He leaned forward. “You must know his name"

“Of course”

“Then what is it?” He asked. “What is the Red Hood’s name?”

You looked down, taking a deep breath, then back again, locking eyes with Baker. Then, you spoke.

-- 36 hours later --

The sunset over the valley was gorgeous. The mixes of pink and orange on the yellowed sky was straight out of a fantasy world, and Jason couldn’t help but appreciate the scenery. It was soothing, like it could swallow up his anxiety at least for a minute or two. He leaned on the wooden ramp, the sightseeing roadside station seeming not so cheesy at the moment.

He only tore his eyes from the burning sun when he heard a motorcycle approach from behind. He pushed himself off the ramp and faced the sleek black bike--the lack of use on it showing him it was brand new--then, the driver with a black tinted visor.

You took off your helmet and smiled at Jason’s stern expression, whose eyes showed relief anyway. You turned off your bike and parked it, then got off and walked to him.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

You walked past him and leaned on the ramp he had been on moments ago, and he joined you. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered you one. He lit up both with his lighter, and you took a long draft before speaking.

“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice” You smirked, bumping your shoulder to his. “I did save your sweet ass, after all”

“I thought we agreed not to do that” He glanced at you sideways. His annoyance was also mixed with playful disbelief, like he both wanted to throw you off the cliff you were admiring the view from and do celebratory shots with you.

“We did” You nodded, chuckling. “But circumstances changed. You weren’t out by the time I reached the monument, so I had to draw them away from you, or we would not be having this conversation. ”

“Still” He tilted his head to the side, before his head snapped in your direction. “Wait, did you call the secret services after yourself?”

You shrugged half heartedly. “Mayhaps” Your lips curved upward, while he shook his head. “I mean, it kinda was my fault too. I misplaced the bomb and it barely detonated. I had to flip to plan B, then they shot my bike. They had me surrounded, and my it was running low on life, so I skipped directly to plan fuck this”

“So you gave yourself up”

"Played the victim, pretended I wanted to exchange information on you for my freedom” You sighed, taking a drag of your cigarette. “None of which was relevant enough for them to even get close to you, worry not”

“They must have asked for a name” He hummed, now turning his full body toward you. “What did you tell them?”

“My grandpa’s name” You snorted. “He died two decades ago. Let me tell you, when they found out the last update on him was in the necrology of the 2001 Sunday paper, they were not happy campers”

“Then how did you get out?” He squinted his eyes.

“Oh, do not underestimate me, sweetheart” You grinned. “I’ve spent my whole career getting to know the buildings and the procedures for people like me. It was a piece of cake”

You were escorted out the interrogation room and into the small, yet cozy holding cell. You were on the clock, because the lies you’ve slipped into your story would unravel pretty quickly once they discovered that the name you gave them was a farce. Then, you wouldn’t be put in a minimal security room, but probably somewhere way less fun.

“Hey wait” You called after the guard before he could close the cell door behind you. He paused his actions, waiting for you to speak up. “This wasn’t there last time”

He frowned and took a few steps into the cell, trying to spot over your shoulder whatever you were talking about. When he didn’t see it, he got closer and closer until he was all the way into the cell. “What wasn’t there before?” He asked, annoyed.

You smiled. “You”

With a quick jab of your elbow behind his head, he fell down unconscious on the floor. You grabbed his keycard and exited the cell, locking the guard in. You winked at the camera on the upper left corner of the hallway and made your way down to the garages as the alarms blared through the whole building. That meant it entered lockdown, closing all the escape routes. But you had your own fool proof plan.

Agent Baker began swearing when the hallway was plunged into the red glow of the lockdown alert. It hadn’t taken long for him to figure out you had led them in circles, and he had appeared a fool in front of his colleagues when he proudly revealed the name of a long deceased old man instead of anything tangible. He had been on his way to your cell when he realized the depth of this foolery, understanding you had been stalling them for this opportunity.

“Sir, we are reporting engine noises in the garages”

“Fuck” Baker shouted, pushing the other man aside. Tanev was a step behind, his weapon drawn. They had stored your bike there, you must have gone back for it. “All units report to the garage, we’re having a break out. I repeat, all units to the garages”

They all flocked to the lower levels, ready to enforce the barrages at the doors and trap you with no exit. It was an excellent execution of emergency measures, but they definitely weren’t prepared for what came next. As they kicked the storage unit of your motorcycle, they came face to face with the bullet ridden bike with no driver in sight. Baker lowered his gun, squinting his eyes. Then, they widened comically as the dark smoke coming out of it and the strong smell of gasoline registered in his brain.

“Motherfucker” He spat. “Everybody out!”

Seconds later, it exploded.

“You’re unbelievable” Jason scoffed, shaking his head. However, he now had a full blown grin to match yours. “I gotta give it to you though, blowing up your bike as a distraction was smart. Balls of fucking steel”

“Of course it was!” You replied, then reached in your pocket for your phone. “And it’s not even the best part, look”

You unlocked your phone and passed it to him, showing him your most recent picture of the CIA’s chief of operation dead with a letter opener through his neck. His eyes widened. “You got Preston?”

You turned around from your position, now leaning back on the ramp with your elbows resting on it. “The bike opened a window big enough for me to get the target” You said, finishing your cigarette and disposing of it in the ash bin on your right. “And with all those idiots guarding an empty garage, t’was easy enough”

“After all this time, you’re still impressing me” He nodded, holding up his fist. “Good fucking job”

You bumped your fist sideway with his, laughing at his baffled expression. The sky was getting darker and darker by the minute, but the air was still warm. You could hear the crickets in the high grass, and the silence was a peaceful one. You could admit that you had cut it close this time, that this gamble could have very well turned to shit, so you just took a moment to let the pressure slip away from your muscles, at least for now. You had the time to smoke another cigarette before you spoke.

“So now what?” You hummed, looking up to the bright stars above your head. “Markstrom’s ring is no more, and I’m pretty sure I not only lost my job by pulling that stunt, but also bought myself a ticket on at least three intelligence services’ most wanted list”

“Well, that’s nothing a good ol’ fake death can’t fix” He shrugged. “But until we find the right moment for your tragic public demise, I’m sure we can manage to find on our own some domestic assholes to beat up. What do you say?”

You met eyes with him, then raised your eyebrows. “I say let’s get to it”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd fic #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood imagine #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #batfam #batfam imagine #imagine #jason todd x you #outlaws

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hslllot · 4 years ago

Text

Part I. Draft Day

fic masterlist | rated: m, mature | word count: 4.6k content/warning: hockey harry, nosey family members, a very brief mention of anxiety, overzealous hockey stans.

DRAFT REPORT: The 411 on Harry Styles by John Michaelson for Sportsnet

There’s this kid named Harry Styles. He plays hockey. Ever heard of him?

At this point there’s not much else to be said about the british Fighting Hawks’ centre, a lock to be the No.1 pick in the 2015 NHL Draft.

Dubbed a generational talent, Styles’ abilities are at a level typically only seen in video games. We all know the Edmonton Oilers will select him with the first overall pick on June 26. In years to come, hockey fans from around the globe (but especially Oilers fans) will be on the edge of their seats, watching to see if the phenom can develop into a future Hockey Hall of Fame talent the way Wayne Gretzky and Mario Lemieux did.

Here’s what you need to know about Harry Styles:

Age on June 26: 19 Birthplace: Redditch, Worcestershire, England Current team: University of North Dakota Fighting Hawks Position: Centre Shoots: Left Height: 6-foot Weight: 190 lbs NHL Central Scouting Rank (North American): 1st

Harry Styles is a franchise-changing player in every sense of the word. He looked like a pro player even before he flew across the pond at a young age to play in the Canadian Hockey League. This has been a long time coming but the future is finally here.

He is talented beyond his years and always has been… Styles has played against older competition his entire career. Growing up in the small village of Holmes Chapel in Cheshire, England, the options for minor hockey teams were limited. Styles struggled to find a team in his age group that matched his talent level and was forced to play with older kids - and even then his talent was unmatched. Like the two other players from the UK currently playing in the NHL, Styles eventually had to leave home and play junior hockey in Canada, where he still had to play up a year against Canadian kids that grew up in a country that eats, sleeps, and breathes the game.

He should have been drafted 1st overall last year… Styles shocked the hockey world in 2013 when, instead of declaring for the 2014 NHL Draft, he announced he would be attending the University of North Dakota and lead the Fighting Hawks to an NCAA Championship. Styles, ever the media-trained athlete, dodged questions about why he chose to go to university for a year before joining the NHL, simply stating “University was always a part of the plan, no matter what happened with hockey.” The hockey community let out a collective sigh of relief when his agent, Jeffrey Azoff (whose father was, coincidentally, Wayne Gretzky’s agent), announced shortly after his championship win that after one year at UND, Styles would be declaring for the 2015 Draft.

His trophy case is full... Harry Styles has won pretty much every individual hockey award he could possibly win in his career so far. During his CHL career with the Vancouver Giants he won Rookie of the Year, multiple MVP awards, the award for most goals, assists, and overall points, and scholastic player of the year. During his short-lived NCAA career with UND, he won Rookie of the Year, the Hobey Baker Award as the top men’s hockey player, and was named to the Academic All-American team. Unfortunately, Great Britain’s ice hockey team will not be qualifying for the Olympics or the World Championships any time soon, so unless Styles applies for Canadian citizenship, international trophies and medals will be difficult to come by. Regardless, I have a feeling that there will be many Stanley Cups in his future.

He really hates underperforming… The kid puts a lot of pressure on himself. As we have seen with many successful athletes, an insatiable inner drive to compete can lead to greatness. Styles has that drive to be great and can be his own worst critic. “When I was growing up, my mum was worried about me because I was a bit of a perfectionist.” Styles told The Hockey News back in December. “When I had a bad game, I would get so upset about it. It’s just how I am and how I think every athlete should be. Good is never enough. It’s important to always keep learning and growing to better yourself.”

He is excited to play for the Oilers… Not that he would have anything bad to say about any of the 30 NHL teams, but the Oilers do hold a special place in Styles’ heart. “It’s a great hockey town with fans that are super passionate about the game.” He told The Hockey News. “They’ve been on a bit of a slide the last couple years but the team has a great history. Not many people watch the NHL where I’m from, but my dad was always interested in it and that’s how I got into the game. He was an Oilers fan during their dynasty years with Gretzky and Messier… So if they do end up drafting me first overall, I’ll feel honored to be a part of the team, and it’ll be a nice tribute to my dad.”

Be sure to catch our live 2015 NHL Draft coverage on June 26 starting at 5pm EST/2pm PT only on Sportsnet.

“With the first overall pick in the 2015 NHL Entry Draft the Edmonton Oilers are proud to select, from Holmes Chapel in England, Harry Styles.”

The room erupted in loud cheers and applause as the Edmonton Oilers drafted the National Hockey League’s newest and most sought after commodity.

Y/N’s closest friends and extended family roamed around her parents’ living room, congratulating one another with hugs and handshakes like one of their own family members was just drafted. That wasn’t the case though, they were all just deeply invested in the hockey team and the boy from England that was meant to turn things around after so many years of losing. They were so invested, in fact, that the family organized a gathering similar to something you might see on a holiday, like Thanksgiving or Christmas.

While it was not a normal holiday, for Y/N’s family it was just as significant. It was Draft Day. And every hockey fan in North America wanted Harry Styles to play for their team.

“That’s quite the suit, isn’t it?” Her uncle Will pointed to the television where the young man is dressed in an ornate red floral suit and black dress shirt. The suit was flashier than what most hockey players would wear, but it’s clear that Harry Styles is not like most hockey players. The camera panned to him as he stood up from his seat and hugged the two brunette women sitting next to him. He stuck out like a sore thumb among a sea of other young hockey players all dressed in variations of black and grey as they patiently waited to be drafted from the stands of the BB&T Centre in Florida. It was clear to Y/N that, much like his hockey skills, Harry Styles’ fashion sense was superior compared to his peers.

There was an air of excitement in the room as the draft party, all clad in blue and orange jerseys, watched the generational talent walk down the stairs of the arena and make his way to the stage. They collectively held their breath, the room becoming silent, when he arrived at the stage where both the owner and general manager of the team were waiting to greet him. Harry shook their hands before they handed him his own blue and orange jersey. As he slipped the jersey over his head and posed for a photograph with the executives, the silence in the room broke and excited conversations and speculations for the upcoming season continued. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a stir in her belly and a sense of anticipation for what the upcoming hockey season would bring.

Her thoughts lingered on the man on the screen, wondering what it might be like to meet him, when her brother pulled her out of her reverie. “Can you believe you’ll be working with the Harry Styles?”

No - she couldn’t quite believe it.

In fact, everything happening in her life right now seemed a bit too good to be true.

Set to start her third year of university in September and having to complete mandatory practicum hours in order to graduate the following year, she somehow managed to secure a placement with her favourite hockey team. The Oilers were only taking three students from the university program and everyone in the program wanted one of those spots.

The application process was incredibly stressful for Y/N. One telephone interview, one in-person interview, and a practical session where she had to demonstrate her athletic therapy skills to the team’s head trainer. She did well with the phone interview, given that they weren’t able to see her. She was able to look down at the talking points she wrote in her notebook and pause to take a couple deep breaths without making it obvious that she was reeling on the inside. Her anxiety got the best of her during the in-person interview though, freezing up when they asked simple questions like “why do you want to work for the team?” and “what experience do you have working with sport teams?”

She left the interview feeling embarrassed, but instead of taking the time to wallow and feel sorry for herself, she went home and spent hours upon hours taping her brothers’ ankles in preparation for the practical session the following day. There was no way she was going to let the opportunity fall through the cracks. Her dream of working for the Oilers was the whole reason she decided to go to school for athletic therapy in the first place. She was never any good at playing hockey but she knew in her heart that, someday, she would work for the team she loved so much. At the end of it all, she reckons her taping skills saved her, so she took her brother out to his favourite restaurant to thank him for letting her use his ankles for practice.

Fast forward a few months and she’s now stood in her parents living room thinking about how in three months she could be taping Harry Styles’ ankles.

At the time of her application, no one knew the Oilers would be picking first in the draft. The aura around the team was a bit negative at the time (because of all the losing) and there were rumours circulating the city that some of the star players were rude to the support staff and liked to party a little too hard at The Ranch (which contributed to said losing).

When she first decided to apply for the position her father warned her, “there’s a saying that you should never meet your heroes. What if they’re all a bunch of assholes and you end up hating the team you’ve loved your whole life?”

Y/N ignored her father’s warning but silently hoped that others would feel that way, narrowing down the applicant pool. However, the rumours circulating the team had no effect on the amount of students applying for the job. The fans were loyal in Edmonton (a city not known by many around the world unless you follow hockey or are compelled to visit North America’s largest shopping mall) and although the team was losing, every kid studying athletic therapy wanted a shot with their favourite team. Y/N knew of at least fifteen students that she beat out for the position.

Now, it’s late June and there is a general hype surrounding the team, as if Harry was about to come in and shine a light on the Decade of Darkness (a term Oilers fans use to characterize the recent years in which their favourite team hadn’t made the playoffs). That’s a lot of pressure to put on one person, but Y/N supposed that he’s been dealing with this kind of pressure since he was sixteen, maybe even younger.

Everyone at her family’s draft party was, yet again, watching the television intently while Harry gave his first interview as an official member of the Edmonton Oilers hockey team. While Y/N normally loved watching these types of interviews, she was a bit zoned out- mesmerized by the look of him. The suit, the wavy chestnut hair, the dimple in his left cheek, the accent. The accent. She had never really been that attracted to hockey players, which many people found hard to believe given that she’s such a fan of the sport. All of the guys from her high school who played minor hockey were rotten and thought they were better than everyone else. She did have favourite players in the NHL, players that she loved and admired, but they were her favourites because she loves how they play the game, not because she wants to fuck them.

There was something different about Harry Styles though. Not necessarily that she wanted to fuck him (especially since she recently signed an employment contract that would forbid it), but she was certainly feeling intrigued by him. He doesn’t look like the boys she went to high school with. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s British, or that he opted for a suit that set him apart from the rest of them, or maybe it was the duality of the way he held himself with unshakeable confidence in his floral suit, his gaze set intensely on the person interviewing him, posture strong and dominant, while simultaneously speaking so softly, his words laced with kindness and gratitude.

“When do you start working with the team, Y/N?” Her uncle Will asked from across the room, prompting everyone to look in her direction waiting for her response.

The news that Y/N would be working for the Oilers this season shook the family. As soon as her dad shared the news with his brother, she started receiving messages expressing congratulations from her many aunts, uncles, and cousins, shortly followed by messages asking if she would be getting free tickets to games.

“Um, mid-September, for training camp.”

“You get to meet Harry Styles?” her 9 year old cousin, Billy, asked.

“I do. I will be one of the team’s trainers.” The young boy held a look of wonder on his face, as if realizing for the first time that that his oldest cousin was actually kind of cool.

“Do you think he’s single?” Her aunt Maria asked with a smirk on her face, turning to the television to look at Harry Styles. Aunt Maria doesn’t care much for hockey but she never failed to mention which players she believed to be handsome. She was also the nosey type of aunt that liked to inquire about Y/N’s dating life. “Maybe you two will hit it off.”

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes at her aunt, waving off her comment. But before she could retort, her father chimed in. “Ha! Yea, right! That’s not going to happen. She’s not allowed to date anyone on the team, it’s the rules. Plus, Y/N knows better than to get involved with any of these guys.”

Her father was right. It is the rules. Y/N thought back to when she went into the Oilers headquarters back in April to sign her employment contract. She asked a lot of questions, making sure she understood everything about the document she was signing.

“Personal relationships? Even friendships are forbidden?” she asked the head trainer, TJ, for clarification.

“It depends. You can be friendly, sure, but I would avoid spending time with the players outside of training and game times. Could be seen as unprofessional.”

Y/N understood why such rules were in place, and she had no issue with it at the time. A woman securing a position on a professional sports team was rare, let alone a woman securing a position with a professional men’s team. She knew when she chose this career path that it would always be an uphill battle and that she’d have to work harder and be more strategic than the men in her field. She wanted- no, needed to excel and prove that she could be a talented athletic therapist and a valuable member of the team, so she had no intention whatsoever of messing that up with any type of personal relationships. She also understood the power dynamic between the professional athletes and the support staff, the different ways in which power can be abused, and how personal relationships could complicate things. It all made sense to her. Plus, she was happy enough with just becoming friends with the other trainers and she probably wouldn’t have a lot of free time, anyways, balancing her practicum and her school work.

Today, however, she couldn’t help the very slight pull on her heartstrings at the thought of not getting to know Harry Styles on a more personal level.

As if he’d even be interested in the first place.

In a hotel restaurant in Sunrise, Florida, a few hours after the draft, Harry Styles sat with his mother Anne, sister Gemma, and agent Jeff, celebrating his newly drafted status over a bottle of champagne. He knew he should be feeling elated, like it was the best day of his life, but all he felt was exhausted. The conversation at the table happened around him while he sat in his own head, unable to think about anything but what it might feel like to be tucked into his bed in his childhood bedroom in Holmes Chapel.

The weeks leading up to the draft were an absolute circus filled with interviews and talking to the media nearly every day (he hates talking to the media), shooting promo for all of his endorsements (he’s thankful for the money they give him but he knows he is an excruciatingly terrible actor), and flying around North America to visit all of the potential cities where he might be drafted (it was a pointless tour because everyone knew where he was going to end up).

He had only tonight to celebrate with his family before it was all set to start again. Him and Jeff will fly off to Edmonton tomorrow morning for a week to speak to the media there, meet the teammate he’ll be living with, and do a surprise skating session with some kids at a summer camp. Meanwhile, his mum and sister will fly back to England.

“Any idea where you’ll live then?” Anne asked her son, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the conversation.

“Hm?” He hadn’t a clue what his mum just asked him but he’d hate to admit that rather than listening to anything the three of them had been talking about for the last hour he’d been thinking about how he’d rather be sleeping “Sorry, I think the champagne’s got to me a bit.”

“The team’s got him living with one of his older teammates and his family.” Jeff stepped in, knowing Harry wasn’t fully paying attention. “They do this with the young guys to get them used to living on their own. Teach ‘em how to cook, do laundry, and keep ‘em in line. He won’t be partying every night and bringing girls back to his place if he lives with the guy’s wife and kids.”

“Oh please,” Gemma chimed in. “Not like any of that would be an issue for Harry. He’s been away from home for years. And he’s hardly got time for partying and dating.”

Harry shot Jeff a look warning him to keep his mouth shut. When Harry found out about the living arrangements the team had planned for him, he was less than pleased. After all, he’d just spent the last year living in a dorm room at the University of North Dakota where he had complete freedom. Gemma was right, he didn’t have much time for partying and dating. But he liked having his own space, and he really liked being able to invite someone over after a game, either to celebrate a win or relieve some stress after a loss.

“You never know, some of these young guys get their first big pay cheque and a taste of the big leagues and it can go off the rails pretty fast.”

“I like to think I raised my baby to know better than to get caught up in a pay cheque.” Anne placed a comforting hand on her son’s shoulder and he quickly reciprocated, reaching up to place his hand over hers.

Not liking where this conversation was going, Harry finally cut in. “You did. And Jeffrey, you know I’m not that kinda guy. Either way, none of this matters if I don’t make it past training camp. For all we know I could be going back to the juniors for the season.”

“Doesn’t matter who you are or what kinda guy you are, H, it’s just what the team does. It’s tradition. And c’mon, I know you like to keep your expectations in check, but the team’s made it pretty clear that you’re gonna be in the starting lineup come October.”

Jeff was right. The team had all but promised that he would make it past training camp. The question wasn’t if he’d make it past training camp, but in what shape he’d be in and how long it would take for the team to start winning games.

“The coach said I’m small and need to bulk up, especially since I’ll be playing against older, more experienced men.” Harry could feel the weight of his mum’s gaze as she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’m not quite where I need to be yet, but I’ll get there.”

Harry and his family were stood in the hotel lobby with Jeff, convening on plans for the morning when he felt a small tug on the hem of his red floral suit jacket. He spun himself around, ready to confront the individual bold enough to touch him without his consent, to find a young girl, no older than five years old staring up at him.

Harry looked at her, a bit taken aback and undoubtedly with a bit of confusion written on his face, and then spotted, a few feet behind her, two individuals who were most likely her parents. Suddenly, he realized that he may have actually had a few too many glasses of champagne and immediately tried to compose himself, standing straighter and trying to will away the exhaustion in his eyes and the haziness in his mind.

“Oh - um, hello there.” He cleared his throat before using the soft voice he reserves for adorable, small children like the one stood before him.

“Are you Harry Styles?” She asked with wide eyes and a small, timid voice.

“I am, sweetheart. What can I do for you?”

A bright smile etched itself onto her face. But instead of answering him, she looked back at the adults standing behind her, motioning for them to help as she was too shy to proceed on her own. The man, who Harry presumed was her father, moved to stand beside her.

“This is Millie. She wanted to say hi to you because she’s a big fan of yours.”

Harry lowered himself in front of the young girl so that he was crouched down and eye-level with her. “Hi Millie, it’s a real pleasure to meet you.” He reached out to shake the young girl’s small hand. “Have you got anything that I could sign? Or I suppose we could take a photo if you’d like?”

The young girl removed her hand from Harry’s, nodding her head eagerly. She began to unzip her jacket, revealing a bright orange Edmonton Oilers jersey underneath.

“Oh? Look at that! You’re an Oilers fan. In Florida?” Harry lifted himself from his crouched position and directed his question toward at the girl’s father.

“Yes, well, we actually travelled here from Edmonton, to watch the draft in person.” Harry raised his eyebrows in shock. He knew that the flight from Edmonton to Florida is long, and likely expensive. The tickets to attend the draft live probably weren’t cheap either. “It’s not every day your favourite team picks first overall! Let alone gets to pick a player like you. We were so excited so we decided to make a family trip out of it. Turn around, Millie, show him the back!” Millie’s father handed Harry a sharpie as Millie turned her back to Harry.

It was at that moment that Harry started to understand the weight of the moment. The name ‘STYLES’ was embroidered on the back of Millie’s Oilers jersey, above the number ‘15’ indicating his draft year. He was speechless. This was, after all, the first time he was seeing his name in the classic Oilers’ orange and blue colours adorned on a fan’s back.

The feeling was different from earlier at the draft when they presented him with his own jersey. This one belonged to someone else. Someone bought his jersey before he’d even ever played a single minute for the team. They flew across the continent, from Edmonton to Florida, just to watch him get drafted. It was a lot for his hazy, champagne-diluted mind to take in.

Realizing he’d just been standing there staring at the jersey, he cleared his throat once again in hopes that he could hide the unknown thoughts and emotions he was trying to reconcile. “Wow, um, I didn’t realize you could get these already.”

Millie’s father laughed, “Man, they’ve been selling these in Edmonton since they announced we’d be picking first in the draft.” Again, the feeling was overwhelming for Harry.

We’d be picking first in the draft.

To this family, and probably others in Edmonton, the Oilers were “we”. They win together, they lose together. If the Oilers pick first in the draft, they all pick first. It was their team. And now he, Harry, was a part of that “we”.

Harry reached down to sign the jersey on Millie’s back, quickly scribbling his autograph on the left side. As he straightened himself, he felt Anne move to stand beside him, apparently having sensed her son’s unease and unconscious need for his mother to join him in this moment.

“Hi, I’m Harry’s mum, Anne. Would you like me to take a picture of the four of you?” Millie’s father eagerly handed his phone to Anne and waved his wife over to be in the photo. Several photos of Harry and the family were taken, followed by a few of just Harry and Millie.

“Would you mind if I took one of Harry and Millie on my phone as well?” Anne asked as she snapped the last photo. “This is the first time Harry’s met a fan wearing his name on an Oilers jersey. We’d like to remember it.”

The family was more than happy to oblige so Anne took a few more photos on her phone, including one where Millie’s back was to the camera and the ‘STYLES’ name in full view.

It was so like his mum to understand how special the moment was and to come in and save him. He couldn’t quite articulate what he was feeling in that moment, as understanding emotions and sentimentality were not his greatest strengths, and he most definitely never would have asked to take a photo to keep for himself had she not done it.

The obvious feelings were joy and gratitude. Every day he was thankful to play the game he loved, to be successful, and to have fans that loved and supported him. It didn’t always make sense that complete strangers paid him so much attention just for playing a game, but he accepted it and always tried to show those strangers kindness in return. However, there was another feeling lingering, one that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Looking at his mum, he knew that she knew what it was. She always knew. And certainly she would make him talk about it later.

As they separated from the family and walked toward the hotel elevators, where Gemma and Jeff were waiting, Anne grabbed onto her son’s arm, holding him close as they walked side by side.

“Do you see that they love you already, my darling?” She asked. Harry raised an eyebrow at his mum, unsure of what she was going on about. “I know you. I know that you care what people think and that you are scared to disappoint them. You just need to step out on the ice and be yourself. Just be Harry. They already love you and this is only just the beginning.”

WOW! OK. I know it’s a bit of a slow start, but I wanted this chapter to be more of an introduction to harry and the mc and to the fan culture that harry is about to experience!! I’ve already started on the next part so that should be up before Christmas! If you’ve made it this far, all I can say is that I love you and appreciate you. If you liked it, please let me know. I debated not posting this so many times (and I might even regret it later) so feedback will certainly ease my troubled mind!! I ALWAYS LOVE YOU, BUT ESPECIALLY TODAY!! xx Shan.

Harry’s Draft Day Look

talk to me about generational | fic masterlist

#wow i'm so nervous to post this #generational #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #hockey harry styles #athlete harry styles

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kerwritesthings · 4 years ago

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Road Warrior

Summary: time apart makes time together, in any way that you can, that much more special

Word Count: a little over 12.2K (oops?)

Warning: this is a full rollercoaster ride of feelings across the spectrum – there’s love and fluff and soft, there’s some pangs, there’s a beat of angst, there’s smut.

Author Notes: So, it’s been 6ish weeks since I’ve posted something that wasn’t a babble. I’ve felt clogged and stuck in a way I haven’t in ages. I did not like it. I tried pushing the muse, she wasn’t having it. I backed away from the two stories I was oscillating between and just stopped for a beat. I read some, I tried some prompting, then this gif and a photoset hit back to back. The idea for this just hit me like a ton of bricks. Then the words just came and came and came again. This is the longest piece of fic I’ve ever written.

This falls early in the story of these two, I think this is a cornerstone in the foundation of them. What pieces them together, what makes them THEM. It feels to me that this comes after All’s Fair In Love & Basketball and before Spill The Beans, Break The Ice. Another one that can easily be read as a stand alone but would all add up a little better if you’ve read some of the verse.

“You’re staying tonight right?” he asks, popping out of his closet with a bunch of random shirts in his hands to be folded. “Car’s coming just before you need to leave for the office, so I want as much time with you as possible.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you smile. “Get my fill of you before you’re gone and on the road for 72 days.”

He tosses the clothes haphazardly into the open suitcase next to his dresser and slides next to you on the bed.

“I can make room in my bag and pack you instead,” he teases, nuzzling your temple while taking your hands between his. “You’d be more exciting than more shirts, socks and extra guitar strings.”

You can’t help but giggle a little before leaning your head on his shoulder.

“We’re going to be okay right Shawn?” you say softly, looking at the way your hands lock together. “I know I’m probably being silly, but this is still sort of new, and you know I’m still kinda dealing with the nerves at times, Rockstar. I know we haven’t talked talked. I like where this is going, I’m pretty fond of you, you know. I trust you, it’s not that, but. God, I keep saying but. I’m sorry, I told myself I wouldn’t let this all ruin our night together.”

“Hey, hey it’s ok’s you’re fine,” he replies, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re not crazy and you’re not ruining anything; there’s no need to be sorry. It’s a lot, hell it’s a lot for me too. This is my first time hitting the road having someone like you in my life. It’s not going to be the easiest, only saving grace for us is that it’s not Europe or Asia with crazy time difference. It’s just bopping around North America. I know it’s soon; it feels like we just found our footing in all this, in the us of it and it’s been so great. Now, I’m heading out for two and a half months. We’ll talk, text, FaceTime, all of it. Timing will suck at certain passes, but I want this, I want to make it work. Always know it’s not you, never ever you. Plus, you’re coming out for the last weekend of shows, which gives us both something to count on. You’re stuck with me for as long as you’ll have me, pretty girl.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, bringing your tangled hands up to dust a kiss on the back of his. “I want to be stuck with you, by the way. I kinda like you.”

Shawn frees a hand, shifting your face and cupping a cheek in his palm with his thumb trailing across your cheekbone. He leans in to kiss you ever so gently, “Feeling is so very mutual.”

“Can I help you finish packing?” you question as he still has your face in his palm. “I promise I’ll only steal one, maybe two things”

“Only if we call it after. Shower and cozy down cuddles?” he murmurs, kissing the tip of your nose. “And I’m leaving you a key. You come here whenever you feel you need ok? Promise?”

You nod, biting your lip.

Day One

The morning brings a bit of a heavier goodbye, sniffing on your end, glassy eyes on his. You steal his beige knit sweater with the random patches of open weave to wear over a black cami and leggings. Not exactly the most pulled together office attire, but if you throw on some jewelry, it’ll work. You need a piece of him to have with you through the day. You walk out of the bedroom into the living room and right into his hold.

“This is another see you later,” he sighs into your ear, his arms tight around you. “Except this time, I get to leave with your kiss on my lips. It will work out, there may be bumps, but it will be us on the other side of it. Together. I won’t let it drift, or let you get away.”

You nod into his chest, nose rubbing against the soft cotton of his hoodie.

“I won’t either, Shawn. You’re too special to me,” you respond, chin leaning on his sternum to look up at him. “We both know what it’s like to work hard, we’re just adding something else we want to make a priority is all.”

“And you are, a priority. Even when things get fucking bonkers. Please remember you are,” he replies.

You pop up on your toes to kiss him soundly and his hands come to grip your hips. He’s holding on tightly, there may be bruises later but you’re okay with it. You’ve got a few other little gifts littered across the skin under the sweater from him. There may be one or two you left him with as well.

He leans his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you tightly while your hand comes up to trail through his curls. You’re lost like that for a good couple minutes until you hear his phone go off.

“Walk down with me?” he questions softly, kissing you between each word.

You nod, taking one of his hands from your side to lace with yours.

“You have everything? Passport, AirPods, all the iProducts?” you ask, as he slings his backpack over one shoulder before grabbing his suitcase handle. You grab your bag, knowing you can’t come back in just yet without him there. Maybe in a few days, but not today.

“Triple checked,” he confirms, squeezing your hand as he leads you out towards the elevators.

The dark SUV is waiting at the curb for him when you get to the lobby. He lets go your hand and the suitcase handle at the same time, shifting his backpack on fully. You bite your lip to keep it from wobbling. You thought your resolve would hold, but he’s wiggled his way under your skin in a pretty special way.

“C’mere pretty girl,” he pulls you into his grasp, his head leaning in the space between your neck and your shoulder. “I’m coming back to you, ok? Don’t doubt that.”

“I won’t Shawn, I promise,” you reply. “I’m going to be here when you do. You remember that.”

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead before sliding you closer and kissing you thoroughly. He dusts a few light ones after as you both catch your breath, nose to nose.

“You need to go, you’ll be late,” you mutter against his lips, sipping from them once more. “I don’t need Andrew and Cez mad at me already before you even are officially on the road.”

“I’ll text you when we get into San Francisco, we’ll figure out a time to talk if not tonight, for sure tomorrow,” he says with conviction.

“Go be awesome, Rockstar,” you kiss him one last time before nudging him towards the door. He squeezes your hand, nuzzling your temple with a whispered ‘see you soon sweetheart’ before heading out to the SUV waiting for him.

Sweetheart was a new one. It rolls and wraps around you like a lingering hug from him as you make your way to the office. You like it. You’ll tell him so when you talk next. Rosalie stops you just before you get set to making a tea in the pantry, a smile on her face and a box in hand.

“There’s a delivery for you in your office that came in just before you did,” she explains. “This just got here as you walked in. I’ll drop it on your desk. Also, take your time, going to be a quiet one today with the one team out in Banff for that meeting.”

Tea in hand, you walk into your office. Waiting for you is nondescript box wrapped in butcher paper and a blue sparkly ribbon along with an envelope slid between the bow and the box. You snag the card first.

Know it’s not me per se but close perhaps? Maybe this little guy can be a bit of a substitute and keep my place warm with you while I’m gone. I at least trust his intentions ;) – S

You can’t help but giggle incessantly when you peek inside the box. Tucked amongst a bunch of confetti laced tissue paper is a dark, curly furred teddy bear with honey brown eyes. What made you laugh out loud though, is that he was very much dressed in what you lovingly call cuddlebug Shawn mode. This little guy has a heathered grey hoodie and blue plaid flannel pajama pants. He even has a tiny acoustic guitar strung across his back. You pick him up out of the box, he’s soft all over, squishy in the right places. As you run your fingers over its fur and across the strings of the tiny hoodie, you swear you catch a whiff of your boy coming from him.

“He would,” you murmur, burying your fingers deeper through the curls of the bear.

Around his neck though, a flash of silver caught your eye. It’s long, on the bear at least. It’s a silver locket, the same size and shape as the silver medallion he always wears. The filigree detail on the front is super fine and delicate. You pop it open and inside is a tiny dried, pressed forget me not. Your breath catches. You carefully unlatch the chain from around the bear’s neck and fasten it around yours, fingers carefully tracing over it as it sits just so on your breastbone. You tuck the teddy back into his box for now and shift focus to the other gift of the day. The box Rosalie had is on your chair, and the inside box is blatantly from Laduree. You don’t even need to open it to know what’s inside. The card on top though, you read before sneaking a cookie from one of the sleeves.

I know you and you’re going to want (and need) something like this today. There’s going to be a few bottles of wine waiting for you at home when you get there too. Also, next weekend – you’re being invaded. I’m in Friday mid-afternoon so, be prepared! Thank your boy for the gift of me, is all his doing. He’s a special one. Love ya girly <3 Didi

“This boy,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair wiping at your eyes and grateful you didn’t do mascara today.

Setting the bar high, aren’t you? Mini me bear Shawn with his little extra gift and Didi for a weekend? You spoil me entirely too much. Thank you, really. He’ll keep me warm, but I definitely prefer the real deal. Fly safe, Shawn <3

Thankfully, Rosalie was right. The office was quiet for a Tuesday, but you’re grateful for it. No video calls, a few of conference calls and a ton of emails aside from regular work. Your phone pinged off in rapid succession at around 5:45 as you were trying to wrap up for the day.

I feel like I spoil you the appropriate amount or sometimes not enough, but we’ll agree to disagree ok? :)

That little guy and I had a long talk, he’s up to the challenge of being my stand in so you’re in good paws with him. And I just helped Didi bump up some plans she had going herself is all.

Finally on the ground, we looped SFO for like an hour because of runway traffic but I did get this sick shot!

(Photo of Golden Gate Bridge with one big fluffy cloud in the background)

May have a dinner now I need to deal with after we settle in and go through a pre pro meeting according to Cez, but I want time with you tonight even if it’s just 5 min.

Dinner is a thing – FaceTime me when you get back to your place? I’ll have time for you before I need to be presentable, time change on our side ftw!

Can I say I miss you already? Is that allowed to be a thing? Cause I do, miss you <3

The flurry of texts makes you giggle and tug at your heart a bit, and it’s only been a couple of hours. It’s an easy decision to head home right then and there.

You have impeccable timing; I was just wrapping up for the day. Should only be a quick hop back to my place.

“So, sweetheart huh?” you smile, cozying into the corner of the couch watching him flop down onto the bed stomach first.

He tinges pink.

“I need to step up the game from Rockstar then,” you tease as the color spreads further across his cheeks and nose.

“Are you done teasing me?” he quips, shifting about again to prop the phone against a pillow. “Is this how this is going to be while I’m on the road?”

“I kid because I care, my dear,” you reply. “Eh, that one needs some work. Ok, but not the go to. Doesn’t feel you enough.”

He laughs brightly. You fall into sync and talk for a good 20 minutes about everything and nothing, your days, what the rest of the week is shaping up like. Then an alert goes off on his phone.

“Time to get a move on. Need to get pulled together enough for this meeting that I can go right from there to dinner,” he sighs, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “One day down. I’m glad this worked out. Like seeing your face, pretty girl.”

“Go, go. I’ll text you tomorrow,” you bite through fighting back a yawn, suddenly super sleepy. “We’ll figure next FaceTime date then.”

“Get some rest. Goodnight sweetheart,” he says softly, blowing you a kiss before disconnecting.

Day 12

I’m sorry, Shawn. Still stuck on a call with the clients from Stockholm. I thought we’d be done before you needed to head to the station :( UGH. Are you jammed with them until you have to get to the building for soundcheck?

You unmute the line to chime in about the latest opportunities the company could have supporting some of the local conservation efforts, specifically with teaching schoolchildren about environmental impacts. By the time you were done and were able to end the call off your desk line, your cell phone unfortunately forgotten for those few moments, you missed a few messages.

You’re being a bad ass; I can’t fault you for that. Work goes on aside from my wacky schedule. This is the one with the student programming, right?

Interview, performance, meet and greet, liners, some web thing then straight to the arena. Full pack with this group. Sound check shouldn’t be long though. After that but before power nap and pre-show hoopla? We’re 2 hours behind because Arizona is so weird with time change so like 4ish your time?

You were supposed to have another call, but it was something internal. Something you could push, even just to get a few minutes with him.

I’ll push my call, Josue won’t mind. It’s just an internal catch up on something for an Ottawa client. Putting you on my calendar for 30! <3 Call? FT?

Josue is more than happy to shift, even saying he can download you on email if you bring the good coffee and treats when it’s your turn for Friday morning staff pick me up next week.

Call unfortunately for now unless something changes, idk if I’ll have my room alone or if I’m hiding in the bus. But need time with you however I can take it. We’ll figure out FT when we talk later. Go run the world.

He finds a box waiting for him in his dressing room when he walks in with Brian and Cez, having a few moments to be just after soundcheck.

“Oh good, they brought it over. That showed up for you at the hotel, arrived there after we already left for the station. I thought you may want to open it now and not wait,” Cez explains as he scrolls through some emails on his phone. “Come on Brian, let’s give him some space.”

“So, it’s that kind of present then?” Brian snickers before Cez pushes him towards the door.

“Let’s go smart ass. I’ll be back for you Shawn a little before 4 for the meet and greet,” Cez calls as they walk away.

He flips open the box to find another box, this one brightly wrapped with an envelope stuck to the top with a bow. He snags the card first.

When I was away at college, one of the best things was getting care packages especially when I least expected them! Here’s a little taste of that for you, Shawn. Some fun, some practical, some sweet, some absolutely nonsensical. Most of it’s for you but share with the boys as you will. Miss you Rockstar <3

The box was exactly that: two extra phone chargers and another two extra wires because you know how he loses them, a new AirPods charging slide with a deep grey marble case cover, another one of his favorite writing journals, a box of the pens he likes to steal from you when he thinks you’re not looking, a couple tins of his favorite tea, a box of homemade baked goodies, a massive bag of Blow Pops, a bouquet of Tootsie Roll pops, a handful of packages of both Haribo gummy bears and fruit snacks, 2 silly stress ball men whose eyes pop out when you squeeze it, a bunch of random rubber band shooters with a bag of bands, four tubes of glow bands and a rainbow selection of Halloween eye masks.

You’re beyond, you know that? This is amazing, thank you. Cannot wait to talk to you later, pretty girl.

Day 20

The day starts out innocent enough. It was a normal day at the office and with him somewhere still out west, you’ve lost track. Maybe Denver at this point? It’s at least a 2-hour time difference now, that you do know. You get out of a meeting, settling into your office when a text pops through from him.

I miss you, pretty girl. I miss waking up next to you.

You echo the sentiment, skimming back into the brief you just got for a project that you’ll be fully leading out on. You go head down into work, not paying much mind to your phone for a good block. When you flip back to it, you’re welcomed to two more messages.

I miss your heart beating with mine, how you fit just so in my arms. I miss you in bed with me.

The next is a photo that makes you lose breath. The light streaks over him from what’s probably a recently opened curtain, his hair is a riot of curls and a bit of a wicked smile over his lips. He’s got one arm bent behind his head. The crisp white bedsheets still a mess from the night before and they’re slung just oh so low enough on his hips to know there’s nothing underneath them. Well at least not clothing.

“Shit,” you blurt out loud, but thankfully not loud enough to carry even through your closed office door.

He then progresses to texts you did not expect.

I miss your hands on me, I miss your mouth on mine, how you taste on my tongue, the way you sound when you come.

You flush, even when he’s trying to be dirty, he still sounds beautifully lyrical.

I miss how your breath always catches when I slip into you for the first time, how you get so tight around me, how wet and turned on you get when I’m fucking you.

You quickly get up to DND all the settings for your door card and your work line.

I AM STILL AT WORK SHAWN PETER. What is this? Where is this coming from?

You try to finish the last few emails you must get through in your inbox, you’re not sure what’s going on with this boy of yours.

Can we talk later, FaceTime? Pretty please pretty girl?

You know where he’s going with this. You’ve passed the teasing, alluding texts here and there, a few slightly risqué photos but not this. Not yet at least. And it’s obvious by his build up he’s getting to now, what it will lead to.

As long as you behave while I’m still at the office. Some of us just can’t fuck all in their bed at whatever time of day it is where you are.

You try to shake out the haze settling over your brain when your phone goes off again.

Fuck all is right; I wish it were you though. You’ll always be the better option.

He sends a photo, but you refuse to even open it while at your desk. You have a fairly good idea of what he’s up to.

“Damnit Shawn,” you sigh, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. There’s no way you’re going to be able to finish what you need to if he keeps this up. You flip off a few random gifs, so you don’t have the photo immediately in your chatline.

This is not behaving because I think I know what you’re sending me there, Rockstar. What are you up to here?

It’s early in your day, but you toy with the idea of ducking out.

Can you head home early? You’re all flushed. You’re coming down with something, I think.

“This boy I swear,” you exhale, already shutting down your computer.

I’ll be home in 20, think you can control yourself for a little bit longer?

As you key into your apartment finally, your phone buzzes again. You’ve missed two other messages.

Yes, yes and yes.

I still wish that it’s your hands around me right now.

That makes you warm all over as you walk back into your bedroom, losing almost everything you wore to the office that day. For now, leaving on the thin cami, bra and panties. Before you duck into the bathroom, you scroll back to that photo. It’s what you assumed, though seeing it makes you even warmer; his right hand wrapped around his dick, hard and flushed a deep pinkish purple. You have to take a quick wash of your face because you have a notion that once you’re in bed you won’t get out of it for a bit and really, to help you cool down a little. Once you grab the little drawstring bag from your bedside table and start to settle down onto your bed, another text rings through.

So, what are you wearing?

“Whaaaat?” he whines, scrubbing a hand over his face as soon as you connect on FaceTime.

“That’s what you start out with? And on text? That’s like the epic cliché for a dude who wants to get some, Shawn,” you laugh. “Especially considering I know how dirty you can get on text after the show you put on a few minutes ago.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” he groans, burying his face into the pillow. There’s enough light from the open curtains you can see how pink he is, even through the phone’s camera.

“You’re hiding from me now, Rockstar? After ‘what are you wearing’?” you tease. “Or your little diatribe about how you like when I come on your tongue or when I have my lips around your cock?”

“Sweetheart,” he moans, his free hand shifting down from behind his head. “You. God, you sound so good.”

“Isn’t that the point?” you question, shifting around in your bed to get more comfortable. “Get you turned on like that. You did that to me before at the office, then again when I looked at that photo you sent with you fisting yourself.”

“You liked that? Me all hard and wanting you?” he gets breathy as he speaks. “See what thinking about you does, what you do to me.”

“Get mouthy. I know you want to, I know you can,” you egg him on, trying to push his buttons to get him riled up to the point where he was before with you. This time though with you right there to see and be seen.

“Fuck,” he licks his lips. “Yeah? You’re sure?”

“I miss you like this too Shawn,” you admit, fingers tracing over your collarbone. “I’ve missed your hands on me, your lips, your tongue, your dick.”

“You have to too, pretty girl,” he counters, fighting back another deep rumbling from his chest. “Tell me what you want. I need to hear you, see you. Want to make you feel good, make you come.”

“Please Shawn,” you whimper, your fingers tracing the swell of your breast against the cotton of your cami. “Want to get you riled up, watch you come for me. I want to come for you too.”

“I think you’re wearing far too much,” he purrs. “I think we need to get you caught up but not before you let me see what you had on today.”

“If I knew this was happening, I’d have picked something far prettier,” you remark, flipping the tank top over your head.

“You know I have no complaints with your choices in lingerie. Ever. Fact you let me see it on you at all is a privilege,” he chuckles. “Let’s see come on, show me please.”

You were happy you at least slipped on a matching set today. Deep forest green lace with boyshorts. You angle and tilt the phone down so he can see not only the cups of your bra but the line of lace at your hips.

“Oh honey, that is pretty. You’re so damn pretty,” he coos. “Touch yourself, like you’d want me to if we were together.”

His breath stutters as he watches you flick and twist one of your nipples through the lace before peeling the cup back to do the same against bare skin. You both groan.

“Show me,” you murmur, head bending back into the pillow as you pinch it again. “Want to see you too.”

He grunts deep before flipping the camera shot. He’s harder than before, the head of his cock a deeper red, tinged with purple. His hand moving in slow, easy strokes, squeezing the tip slightly on the up.

“You’re so hard, Shawn, look at you,” you play coy, your free hand slipping to tease the lace trim on your boyshorts. “That all for me?”

“Only you,” he whines, flipping the camera back so you see his face. “Time for you to take off all that lace sweetheart.”

You prop the phone on the pillow next to you, slipping your bra away first then shimming your panties off. You twirl them around on your finger in front of your phone and laugh before snagging it back up.

“All gone,” you giggle, smiling wide as you cup your breasts together to show him your bare skin.

“God, how I miss you,” he whimpers. “You are just so stunning. I’m damn lucky I get to call you mine.”

“I miss you too, Shawn. Wanna show me how much?” you poke, your hand making a trail down your stomach. “You’ve got me all naked in my bed. Tell me how you want me, what you want me to do.”

“I wish that was my mouth making its way down your skin like that,” he sighs. “Bury my head between your thighs and lick you until you’re writhing. Flick your clit against my tongue to the point when I get your legs to shake around me. You always get so fucking wet when I’m eating you out. I can’t ever get enough of how you taste.”

You can’t help but run your hand down further, start circling your clit and whine. Your fingers may be enough tonight you’re wound so tight. It’s been a few days since you’ve gotten off too, that plays in yours, and his, favor this evening.

“Yeah, you like that huh?” he mutters, his own breath growing short. “Fuck, don’t hold back. Don’t bite that lip of yours. You look so good like this. Let me hear you. Just like I was there.”

“Shawn please,” you sob, speeding and tightening the circles, pressing down a little more.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he pushes, his own hand tightening around him. “You wanna come? You want it like it was my mouth milking it out of you or you want it like my cock buried deep inside you?”

“Shit,” you draw out.

“Come on sweetheart, gotta tell me so I can get you there,” he pants, trying to stave off the build he’s starting to feel watching you. “Need you to come for me, see you fall apart. I want to know how you want it.”

“Fuck me, please. I want your dick in me and your thumb on my clit to get me there. Please, please Shawn,” you practically beg.

He hisses not expecting you to go there, shifting down to roll and pull at his balls. He knows if he keeps up the assault on his cock the way he has, he’d come far, far too soon. He wants to enjoy this, enjoy you before he comes himself.

“You know how much I like sinking into you, watching your eyes go wide and start to roll back when my head just starts to stretch you and slip inside,” he utters, that thought even making him throw his head back. “The way you just clench around me, you’re always so warm and wet and tight. I never will be sick of that feeling.”

“Oh, oh, I’m so close,” you stutter out, hand flicking even faster. “Shawn, Shawn please.”

“That’s it honey, you look so damn good like this. I’ll never be tired of seeing you this way,” he urges, hand back to skimming over himself just slightly. “Just like that. How I want that to be my hips slipping against yours, grinding my dick deep in you. When you get this close, you flutter around me and I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything better. Come on, come for me. Please sweetheart, show me how pretty you are when you come.”

It hits you hard and fast, hearing his voice that raspy asking for you to come for him. You lock eyes with him and cry out, arching your back. You work yourself through it until you’re far too sensitive to keep even a light circle going against your clit.

“You feeling good over there?” he teases.

“You’re how damn far away and you just made me come like a freight train,” you mutter, reaching for a tissue.

“Lemme see first,” he bites out quickly, his hand speeding up a little against his cock.

“You wanna see how wet you got me, Shawn?” you ask. “That going to wind you up more? Knowing how you still get me going, even this way? How even just your voice and how dirty your mouth gets can still make me come this hard?”

“Yeah,” he groans as you lift your hand towards the phone. “Shit, look at that.”

“It’s all your turn now,” you reply, quickly wiping your hand. “How do you want me? On my knees sucking your deep?”

“I’d never say no to your mouth,” he huffs out. “But it’s not gonna take much. Watching you come like that, god I already know I’m not going to last. I want to fuck you. Ride me? I love having you in my lap. Want my lips sucking at your nipples while you’re sliding down my dick, settling down on me.”

“My hands in your hair, tangled up in those damn curls of yours. My mouth on that spot on your neck, the one on the left side that just makes you squirm when I latch onto it every single time,” you start. “I hit that spot and you always rock your hips up into me. Doesn’t matter if we’re just making out or you’re inside me. When I’m on top of you like that though, you always slide further, deeper.”

“Yes, yeah just like that honey,” he moans loudly, free hand pawing at his own chest while the one around him starts to speed up even more. “Need you, need more of you.”

“Want me bouncing on your cock? Or do you want me grinding down and circling? I know you; you want both. Grinding first, then when I feel you getting even harder, that’s when you’re close. That’s when you want me to pull off you slowly, then slam back down on you. Isn’t that right, Shawn?” you draw out.

“You feel so good. So, so fucking good. God yes,” he sobs, his strokes now shorter, fingers hitting closer to that spot just under the head that makes his hips tipping up even more. “Shit. Wanna come inside you. Please, sweetheart. Please let me come inside you. I love how it feels when I come in you, you’re all warm and wet.”

“Let me see you come, Shawn. Let go for me. Lemme see those pretty eyes of yours when I make you fall apart into pieces and come. Please come for me,” you plead.

His eyes flash open, only a tiny ring of brown visible. His jaw drops and he lets go the most delectable sounds. His hand slows as the last strangling noise leaves his lips.

“Oh, oh shit. Oh. Wow,” he huffs. “I don’t think I’ve come that hard and that much since the first night we slept together.”

He flips the camera again, he’s definitely a mess of come with puddles and streaks all up his stomach, pooling in certain dips of his abs. His cock, twitching slightly, when you bite your lip to fight back a moan.

“Are you trying to make me want to come again?” you huff out.

“I’d need a few to catch my breath because damn,” he exhales, reaching for what you think is a hand towel to mop himself up.

“Honey?” you prod after he’s clean and breathing at a normal pace again, his eyes are back open to focus on you.

“Yeaaaaah,” he chirps back. “Our thing now. Add it to the list.”

“Mmkay. I miss you,” you sigh. “I want to cuddle up on you right now.”

“Me too. Kiss all over your face,” he replies. “Miss you too pretty girl. Miss you so damn much. This will help keep me for a bit, I’ve got something new to use for some fuel without you. I think though that we need to do this again soon. Cause hot damn.”

“You’re such a boy,” you giggle.

“Your boy though,” Shawn smiles, making kissy faces at you.

Between Day 34 and Day 41

It has been a few days of just missing each other, timings were all off, his schedule is changing on the fly to the point that neither you nor he could both keep up anymore aside from the definite moments of shows. The label was adding things left and right, days off were slipping away. Missed calls and FaceTimes, texts going unanswered for hours, not the normal lag times you’ve both become accustomed to. It took this long to finally hit the skid you both knew would eventually come, what you didn’t realize was how hard it would shake you and how deep it would run.

You end up taking a work from home day and you work from your home, not his place despite wanting to post up there to just have a better sense of feeling close to him. You need to be able to have those mood swing moments from mad to upset to indifferent without folks in your office poking in to see what’s got you in a tizzy. It’s been three days now of just clipped responses via text, short and unlike the Shawn you’ve grown to know and care for, a “k” here or a yes/no there and zero tries or asks about getting calls or anything set up, let alone trying to talk with you over text about anything. You were trying, but it stopped last night. The ball is now in his court. You also have a major proposal that needs to be approved internally and out the door to a client by the end of the day tomorrow. You live and breathe work those two days, barely functioning outside of it. Partly because of your deadline, partly to not face the feelings swirling around inside you.

You send a silly meme on Saturday morning to him feeling a little lighter after your work is complete. You’re met with nothing but the same silence you’ve faced for days. You crack on that night.

Instagram is a flood of photos and boomerangs and videos. It wasn’t one post; it was the whole crew. All of them posting throughout the night. You knew they were all busting your ass, so of course it made sense to have a night out to blow off steam with a supposed two days off following. It looks to be their typical wild night out. Which you don’t begrudge. However, you hadn’t heard a peep from him in three, going on four days. Not an emoji, not a missed call, a gif. Nothing. It wasn’t the night out that had you set off; it was the buildup of feeling like you don’t matter anymore, especially when things seem to get a little tricky.

You bite your lip to not only stop the wobbling, but to prevent you from the start of the tears. You press down so hard you draw blood. You don’t want to overreact, but everything you talked about, all that you promised each other feels like it was just empty words. This all isn’t it. This isn’t making you guys a priority despite all the outside forces that come down with a tour. Your mind is racing, wanting to let him know his actions have consequences. Your thoughts deserve more than a text, this was so much more than that. Knowing there’s no way he’d hear a ring wherever they were, between the noise and being too wrapped in their night, you hit call instead.

“I’m not sure what to say or how to say it, but it all boils down to that I’m really tired of feeling like shit because of you Shawn,” you start, sniffling. “Couple days of missing each other like passing ships shouldn’t result in you being short and moody to me for the time you have been, let alone followed up by total silence from you for days. Days, Shawn. Not hours, fucking days. That’s not okay. We knew it would be hard, we knew we’d have to put in the effort and the work, but we both seemed to agree to want it and each other. We were going to be a priority. We wanted this us of ours. We both have been putting in that work for like the last 30 something days. This last couple days, it’s not that. This is the opposite of it. A simple text saying you’re crazed or overwhelmed, something anything really would be better than this.”

You take a deep breath and, on the exhale, sob.

“If this is what happens when the going gets tough or tricky with you, I don’t want it. Ever. I’m not even sure me calling and telling you this will even matter, I don’t know a hell of a lot of anything right now,” you bite out between some tears. “I guess, I’d just like to know either way what the hell is going on if this is your not so subtle way of ghosting me to end it or what have you. More so, so I can settle my emotions and my heart around it all. I’m not mad, I’m just fucking sad and disappointed. Maybe more at myself for believing all you said to me.”

You end the call, throwing the phone across the room before tucking your knees up and fully breaking down. At some point you curl up in a ball on the couch and fall fitfully asleep there. Waking up around 11:45 am, beyond late for you, you still feel awful. This wasn’t some nightmare. It was very much real.

“Hell,” you sigh loudly, trying to pop your neck, back and shoulders as you decide what you need to do before facing the day and your phone.

When you manage to pick up your phone, by some miracle it did not break, the alerts and notifications are taking up your lock screen. 7 Missed FaceTimes, 18 missed calls, almost a dozen voicemails and about 30 texts from Shawn alone. Let alone the handful of texts and missed calls from Tristian, Hirashan, Miguel, Didi, Tomas and then surprisingly, his sister, Brian and Cez. You must shower, put on some fresh clothes and drink a copious amount of water to rehydrate after all the crying before you can even think about catching up on everything that’s on your phone.

You fire off a quick reply in the group text to Hirashan, Miguel, Didi and Tomas first.

Not sure how much you heard, or what you know or got told but it’s not pretty right now. I’m at my place and have been, I crashed after a draining phone call and a good sob. I need to get myself together. Let me wrap my head around what I’m waking up to. Thank you for all just being here and caring.

The shower and clean, comfy clothes help, as does the gigantic sparkling water you gulp down, taking the refill with you to the couch to finally address the elephant in the room, your cellphone. You scroll through the others first before getting to the plethora waiting for you from him.

My brother is a moron on a good day and I’m sorry he’s being an even bigger one now. I haven’t talked to him, so I don’t exactly know what all happened, but I heard him on with Mum and Dad before. He sounded like shit and I just heard him say how lost and broken you sounded. Which means he was an asshole somehow. I told him you’re too good for him when he brought you home for the first time. I’m on your side no matter what nonsense he pulls, cause again, he’s an idiot. Text me if you’re up for it. I won’t tell anyone, promise.

So, you know because I think you’d want to know, I’ve got him and I’m staying with him tonight. He refused at first, but I won out in the end. Got him into his room and he spilled out only about the voicemail you left, nothing more, then cried and crashed. I’m not taking sides, think of me as Switzerland. From someone who has done this road thing before many a time, it’s fucking hard, but it doesn’t excuse what I think went down. Going to try to talk to him more in the morning. I’m here for you too, my dear. What you guys have, it’s something special. Will help however I can.

He won’t tell me what went down, but he’s pretty broken up. Wtf happened? Like I know, not my place, but I care bout you too. You’ve become a part of our little fam. If you don’t want talk to him, or even me really, just at least please text me to let me know you’re safe and ok as you can possibly be. C has him, which is a good thing as he’s good in those capable, responsible adult hands.

Even though I was friends first with him, doesn’t mean I don’t think of you as a good friend either. Talk or not, whatever you need. I’m a phone call, text or Uber ride away.

You tilt your head back on the couch, not expecting any of that from his people. You’re blown away, grateful. You only answer Cez.

Thank you. I’m glad you took him. Part of me wants you to beat the nonsense out of him, but that’s me running on emotions and shit sleep. I’m not going to say anything, at least not yet, let him get his piece out to you first. Thank you for being there, for both of us. Can you let Brian know I’m alright? He checked in as well and I just can’t do more than this, to you, yet. Talk soon, ok?

You take a deep breath, roll your neck and prepare yourself to dig into everything left. The first few from Shawn you couldn’t completely make out or decipher, but as you started scrolling through, they got a little clearer especially the last few.

I know sorry isn’t enough, it’s never going to be enough. Me missing you, schedules getting tossed about and not being able to sync, I shouldn’t have let it get to that point. Of like utter dissonance. Which turned into anxiety and anger and all these other emotions. But I am sorry, I’m so sorry.

I let it take over and fester and I was an ass to everyone, not just you, that’s not an excuse or a reason or justification or aaanything like that.

Fuck. I wish I could rewind the last few days.

I can say a lot, that I should have known better, because I do, that I shouldn’t have gotten that far in my head, that I should have talked to you straightaway, that I’m a jackass for hurting you and making you feel that way. I never should be the one to cause you that much pain and heartache and brokenness.

Your voice there, I never want to hear it that way, let alone be the one to make you sound like that.

I should never have let it get to the point where you think I don’t care; that you’re not someone I truly care for and want in my life or that you’re not a priority or that you feel my words are baseless and empty.

Because you are, you’re becoming the most important person in my heart.

My actions are inexcusable, full fucking stop, and I hate I’m texting this all to you, you’ll hear some of it in bits and pieces on the voicemails I left.

I want to say fuck it and sneak out to hop a plane back to you, to talk to you in person, to apologize in person, to see you pretty girl, so I can start to fix this.

Because I do. Want to fix this. I’m really hoping this isn’t broken, that you’re not broken to the point of beyond fixing. That I haven’t broken you or this to the point of disrepair.

There’s so much more I want to say to you sweetheart, but I don’t want to do it this way. Please call me, text me, something, when you’re ready.

You take to listening to all the voicemails, some were just dead air, him trying you again, some had broken versions of what he texted you. The last one got you because you heard him as despondent as you felt last night, his voice crackling with emotions, even crying at the end of the last one.

You began crying again in earnest at his crying.

“Damnit Shawn,” you sigh, crashing back on to the couch trying to figure out what to say, at least for now.

It shouldn’t take me calling like that, let alone getting that upset, to get you to stand up and pay attention Shawn. Please give me a beat to wrap my head around all this. I’ve listened to and read everything you sent; I need to sit with it - you owe me at least that.

I’m still fond of you, but I’m not liking you too much right now.

He rereads her texts before slumping over, hands pulling at his hair.

“Did you get in touch with her?” Cez asks, sitting down next to him.

“Kind of? She texted me back finally. The last one. It hurt. I deserve it though. All that matters is I royally fucked up and I don’t know if I can fix it, as much as I want to,” Shawn mumbles.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this invested,” Cez replies. “You both seemed to have a handle on trying to balance the road thing. At least minus this last week on your end. What happened?”

“It started out as just bad timing, missing each other and timing not meshing but then it was more of that. I got in my head, anxious and upset, sort of angry. Not at her but at what we were trudging through,” he begins. “It boiled up and over, honestly for no good reason other than I was tired and frustrated at the situation. I made it out to be like I was that way at her and towards her. I shut down. I was an asshole and did exactly the opposite of everything I promised her, that we really promised to each other before I flew out. I started to get that way around here too.”

Shawn sighs, sitting up and rubbing at his neck.

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her. Funny way I have of showing it,” he sighs, flopping back on the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Love huh?” he prompts, trying to let Shawn lead the conversation.

“I almost said something before I left, but I didn’t want it to be questioned that I was saying it just because I was leaving. That’s not it. It’s, being with her, getting to know her, falling deeper with her, it’s all drilling down to really just loving her,” Shawn laments. “This feeling, her really, it’s found a space in me that takes up a place in my heart just like music and my family. She makes me a better version of me now that she’s in my life. I knew from the first moment we met, she was going to be special to me. Wasn’t sure what or how. But now? She’s so smart, cares more than anyone I know, she sees me for me and not all this other stuff I’m immersed in. She’s what I want. I don’t want this without her, man.”

“I think you figured out the start of what you need to tell her?” Cez questions.

“I started to, in the texts and the rambling voicemails, but I need to talk it out with her, whenever she’s willing to talk to me. If she’s willing to talk to me,” Shawn utters.

“Talking though, communication, that’s what got you through the first chunk of this tour. Remember that. Be honest, be open with her, you owe her that. Take it from someone who has gone through it before. Make the time. Hell, tell me you need the time and I’ll do what I can on my end to help you with that. Please do yourself a favor though, don’t tell her you love her now over the phone after a fight. That’s meant for a good memory, and for you to be there with her, not amidst all this,” Cez notes.

“How’d you get so wise?” Shawn remarks. “I’m hoping she’ll be willing to talk to me. I need to fight for her, for us, for this. It’s too special. She’s my lightning in a bottle, Cez.”

“Give her the time, whatever she needs. Start slowly when she does. Prove to her, and to yourself, that everything you both said to each other does really mean something,” he responds. “Now come on, let’s go get you some air.”

“I know they’re finishing load in now, but do you think I can get in there today? Even for like half an hour?” he asks.

The next morning, your phone pings off quickly in succession.

I promise you won’t hear from me after this until you’re ready, I want you to take whatever time and whatever you need.

But I’m sending this to you first because I don’t want you to be blindsided. I’m toying with dropping this tonight. I don’t know but I also think I need to have this moment of feelings out there. To be raw and vulnerable. Honest. Fully visible.

This isn’t the grandmaster fix, I know that, but this one has been bubbling up for a bit in me and it’s fitting, apropos even but you needed to get it and hear it first. Because it is for you, it is you.

It’s two files, a video and an audio. You click the video first. You’re a glutton for punishment, even when you’re upset with him.

Shawn has his phone propped up on the music rack of the piano he’s been touring with. He’s on stage, you can’t remember where he’s supposed to be playing tonight. It’s dim and he’s alone. He takes a deep breath, eyes closing slowly as he places his hands on the keys and he lays in. The chords are melancholy.

“A tornado flew around my room before you came. Excuse the mess it made, it usually doesn't rain in Southern California, much like Arizona. My eyes don't shed tears, but, boy, they bawl,” he sings. “When I'm thinkin' 'bout you, I've been thinkin' 'bout you, I've been thinkin' 'bout you, do you think about me still? Do ya, do ya? Or do you not think so far ahead? 'Cause I been thinkin' 'bout forever.”

His voice isn’t like you’ve heard before, it’s got tinges of things you don’t want to even think about. That sound winds deeper into his voice as the song goes on.

“Damnit Shawn,” you stammer, a tear rolling down your cheek at the end of the video.

What do you do when the stupid manboy you’re upset with goes and pulls something epic to try to start making things up to you while he’s hundreds of miles away?

You shouldn’t, but you transfer the mp3 to your phone to sync to your Apple Music.

You got the song?

“Of course, he knew about it,” you mutter.

Does he mean it? I need you to shoot straight with me, Cez. I don’t need to know everything or anything he talked to you about, I’m not going to break that trust. But I need to at least know this. Please.

You’re not sure how to take this all. This isn’t the magic pill to swallow and everything will be fixed or okay, but this is something you can’t take lightly. He is completely right. It’s open and honest, emotional and raw. It hits you square in the gut, let alone the heart.

Without a doubt. Truly.

Won’t say much more, but I want you to know this. I’ve been with him for a while, through a lot with him. He’s like a son. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this in his feelings about anyone before.

You can’t let this rot away, as much as you’re hurting, and you want him to hurt like you do. It’s not good for anyone. You need to talk, to see if you can fix it. He seems to want to, you feel like you do. You won’t know for sure unless you talk and see him while you’re talking.

When does he have a free pocket today? Can you get him somewhere, safe and alone? With a laptop?

Your brain starts to spin, but your phone pulls you out of it.

I’ll make it happen. I’ll get him into my room, my laptop. Want to say 4:30? We’re still dark tonight and dinner isn’t set plans tonight. Even if it is, this will give you time without rushing. I’ll make sure of it.

Still enough time to wrap your head around what’s coming but not so much that you’re going to get caught up in it. Part of you wants to shower, but the other part wants him to see how much of a mess he’s made.

Perfect, thank you kind sir.

“Thanks for all this,” you fight out, still nervous.

“Of course, I only want the best for both of you. Remember that, not just him,” Cez half smiles. “Let me go get Shawn. Hold tight, he’s just next door.”

The next thing you know, Cez is pushing Shawn down by the shoulders to sit in the desk chair.

“Holy shit,” Shawn exclaims, eyes wide and slack jawed when he sees your face on the screen in front of him.

“No one knows you’re in here, but the door is fully locked up tight, I’ll be in the bedroom with door shut and earbuds in,” he replies, patting his right shoulder. “You two take your time.”

Once the door clicks shut behind Cez, you two just look at each other and you stay that way for a few moments. He looks tired, like he’s been pulling at his curls for hours. You know you can’t look much better.

“I’m afraid to start,” his voice trembling. “Because I don’t know…”

“Me either,” you whisper, swiping at your eyes with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

“Sweetheart, please don’t cry,” he pleads, holding back tears of his own. “I’m sorry, I’m so damn sorry.”

“I know you are,” you hiccup. “That doesn’t take away how you made me feel this week, Shawn.”

“I shouldn’t have let it get that far. My anxiety, my issues, I should have never taken it out on you, never made you feel like it was you when it was all on me and how I was coping. I shut down and shut off and that’s not right nor is it an excuse,” he explains. “I know better than this on how to manage my anxiety and it wasn’t right or fair to you whatsoever. It’s one thing when it’s just me. This is different, with us.”

“That wasn’t what I signed up for. That was the polar opposite of how we said we’d take things while you’re gone,” you sigh, swiping again at your tear stained cheeks. “We were doing as well as can be, then it was like a switch flipped.”

“I think the schedule getting fucked on my end threw me more for a loop than I thought it would,” he says, threading a hand through his hair. “Again, not an excuse but losing those pockets of time off, those days. It’s always been difficult and would make the anxiety spike, but I also only had me to worry about last time through. But I want to have to worry about you, think about you as a priority in all of this. I should have leaned on folks, leaned on you, pretty girl.”

“You know, this is what I was worried about. Before you left,” you tread carefully. “We knew it was going to be hard, but we were making it work. Almost halfway and we were getting through it. Damn Shawn last week was brutal. I don’t think I’ve felt that…discarded before.”

That’s what cracks him, a loud sniffle and the tears fall from there.

“It breaks me, that I was the one who made you feel like that,” he stammers. “I can’t get that tone you had from your voicemail out of my head. And that I drove you to it? It eats away at me. I want to fix this, this, us, it’s worth all the work, however hard it gets.”

“Are you sure about that?” you respond quickly. “Cause I just saw the opposite of that firsthand and my heart can’t take that again, Shawn. You’ll break me.”

“I’m committing myself more to this, to you. I’ll talk to Cez and Andrew, make sure I have actual breaks and not just run for 72 hours straight not knowing up from down,” he ticks off. “I will do whatever it takes to start earning the trust and respect back.”

“The song. Was that a first step?” you wonder about out loud.

“The song,” he exhales. “I started toying with that first day in San Fran. Did you listen? Do you like it? It fit, trying to be present but looking forward. For me, to that day I got you from the airport before those last shows, to when I was back home with you, after that even.”

“It’s beautiful, you sound stunning on it,” you remark. “That song is why we’re on FaceTime right now. I think you should release it if you want. It’s your feelings, Shawn. Up to you if you want to share it with the world. Damnit, I miss you. And I don’t want to lose you, but last week…”

“Last week isn’t indicative of me. I think, well at least I hope, you know that,” he jumps in. “The song was for you, is for you. I wouldn’t let it out there if you weren’t okay with it. It’s a statement, folks don’t know who or why, but you would. Honestly, that’s all that matters to me right now is you. Say the word and I’m on a plane back, I can get to you and be back in time for the show tomorrow night.”

“Cez and Andrew would kill me, then kill you, then come back to get me again,” you half chuckle, half sniffle. “I would love for you to be here, but I wouldn’t ask you to do that as much as I want you here. It means a lot that you’re offering and that you would though. I need this Shawn who is willing to do that with me for the last 30 some odd days of tour.”

“You mean that?” he asks, eyes glassy but brighter than you’ve seen.

“It’s going to take that work, from both of us, and I’m going to still be a little cautious, a little guarded. You must understand that though coming back into this. It’s going to take me a bit to be as easy as it was earlier on,” you lay out.

“Whatever you need, baby,” he replies.

“Baby?” you squeak out.

“Shit shit I’m sorry, it just slipped,” Shawn rambles. “I didn’t even…”

“No, no I just. That’s ok. It’s, I mean,” you stumble. “You’ve never called me that before. It’s, it feels intimate. I think I like it, coming from you. I never did before from anyone. I always shut that down right quick. But, you. It sounds right, the way you’re saying it, in your voice.”

“Yeah?” he prods, getting bashful.

You nod, turning an even brighter shade of pink. This wasn’t what you expected, but you’ll be cautiously optimistic about it.

“I miss you, pretty girl, so much,” Shawn props his chin on his hand looking at you softly. “Why don’t you go rest, it’s been a whirlwind the last bit to say the least.”

“I don’t want the bubble to burst,” you confess, pulling at your sleeves.

“Can I call you later? Please?” he requests. “I can text you when I know what the dinner plan is, then figure from there?”

“I’d like that,” you confirm, a slight smile sliding across your lips.

Day 48

You decide to take the weekend at the condo, needing to get away but not away away. Plus, you want to either despite of or because of, which honestly probably was a combination of both, the last blip, you have this need and sense to feel close to him in some way to try to keep putting the pieces back together.

You’re both still stepping cautiously, watching every step to get back to where you were before, so you text on Wednesday to ask if it’s ok if you head over after work on Friday and spend the weekend there.

I gave you the key for a reason, this one specifically. I still want you to feel like you have somewhere you can escape to while I’m not there if you need it. Please go. I’ll feel better knowing you’ll be there taking a breather.

You don’t get to leave the office on time Friday by any means, stumbling into Shawn’s place a little after 8. There’s a small vase of dusty lavender peonies studded with fresh lavender sprigs on the side table by the door, with a card propped against it clearly in his handwriting.

A few little things are here for your weekend to make you feel more at home, yet on a little retreat. Keep your eyes open, you may find things when and where you least expect it. Rest, relax and just be while you’re here, pretty girl. Miss you.

Those little things so far include more flowers on the kitchen island, your favorite wine and seltzer in the fridge along with a plethora of other things you’re fond of food wise. You send off a quick text before moving on.

How?

You wander down to the bedroom to drop your overnight bag and change. Fresh sheets on the bed, lavender scented candles on either bedside table, along with a familiar black tub and spray bottle from Lush on the table you’ve been calling your side when you’ve stayed over before, as well as a shirt you distinctly remember helping him pack folded neatly at the end of the bed on top of the extra blanket. You can see some other lavender goodies in a basket on the bathroom counter. You’re about to slide out of your work clothes and into the shower when a text alert chimes through.

I have my ways :)

His ways, you’re fairly sure, are either Tristian, but this is far too neat, thoughtful and pulled together. Or his Mom.

I’m calling your Mom tomorrow to thank her.

You shower quickly, sliding his shirt on after and grateful he sent it. It’s soft and has a strong, lingering scent of him woven into the worn cotton. You forgo anything else for the night and slip beneath the sheets before checking your phone again.

Can a man have no secrets?

My idea, you realize, all of it. Mum just helped make sure it fell into place exactly how I wanted it all to be for you.

Try to have a disconnected weekend. Mute shit on your phone, just not me. Delete shit if you must and reinstall it when you’re back at the office on Monday. You take care of you the next couple days. If there’s anything else you need, you tell or text me and I’ll make sure it, and you, are good. Call you after the show tonight, baby.

Day 54

Your mom just invited me to brunch and shopping with her and your sister on Saturday.

You really like his family; they’ve been nothing but warm and welcoming since Shawn introduced you all. They make you feel like you belong in this little unit with them even though you and Shawn are still navigating the newness and even more so now that you’re feeling a bit more on steady ground with him after a few weeks ago.

They miss you! And want to see you. But it’s not like I miss you. Also, closest thing to getting a real live dose of me is a dose of them. Mum’s idea. I’m all for it. Told her and Liyah you’d be game. I like you all talking and hanging out, even if it is without me. All my girls together and happy.

All my girls reverberates in your head, pinballing around your heart. It pulls at you. Your phone shakes you from your thoughts.

Don’t be worried, or nervous even. No bad motives here whatsoever. It’s a parental thing to want to do all this or so she tells me ;)

Just no crazy escapades, my sister is still a baby. Remember that.

You can’t help but giggle. This boy. How you miss him.

Ok so take off check out piercing places from the list. Good to know.

Your phone rings immediately.

Day 61

“Homestretch,” you sigh, falling deeper into the pillows. “Everything I borrowed from you doesn’t smell like you anymore. Makes me sad.”

“You know you can go into my closet or the drawers to snatch something else. Thank god it is the backstretch,” he agrees. “Soon enough, sweetheart. Me and you in that bed together.”

“S’not the same, Shawn. And you promise?” you whisper, eyes starting to flutter shut.

“Mmhmm, I’m turning my phone off for at least a week. Anyone desperately needs me; they can find me through you so it’s only the super important folks. I want us to figure out some time away from Toronto, just me and you. I want to make sure we get time for us, to make sure we get to reconnect without any noise. We’ll figure it out when I’m home with you,” he utters. “Baby, you’re fighting it. Don’t. Go get some sleep.”

“Just a little,” you murmur, nuzzling into the pillow. “Missed you though, Shawn. Wanted to talk at least even for a tiny bit. Mmm vacation. Somewhere warm, over Toronto cold.”

“Warm it is,” he whispers. “Sleep now. We’ll talk again tomorrow on FaceTime, an off day with just travel in the morning.”

“Ok, sweetheart. G’night,” you whisper.

You wake up to a text the next morning

I can absolutely get used to you calling me sweetheart especially in that sleepy, cuddly cozy voice of yours.

Day 72

You come out of the shower to a bunch texts, which isn’t out of the ordinary to have a flurry of messages in the morning, but they’re not from Shawn or Didi who are the normal culprits. This time it’s a few from Cez, another three from Connor. At first you wonder if he lost or broke his phone but that’s not the case. You open Connor’s first.

He was being nauseatingly adorable so I figured you may want to see and enjoy or gag like I did :D

The next was a video clip of the crew meandering their way through the airport, heading down an escalator.

“Hey Shawn, where we off to?” you hear Connor ask from behind the camera.

“Last shows of tour. We’re off to New York,” Shawn smiles wide. “We did it. We’re wrapping it all up. Looking forward to these, they’re special.”

“Any reason for that shit eating grin?” he teases. “That’s more than a yes, a fantastic tour is over woo look on your face. We’ve come to know a face like that when a FaceTime call rings through. Come on bro, fess up.”

His smile softens a little, cheeks flushing, “I finally get to have my girl come in. She’ll be here for the last shows of tour. She hasn’t seen this show yet at all. So, I’m excited for that. I’ve missed her. And I get to have my family here too. All the people I really care about with me for this. Best way to wrap this era.”

“I can’t wait to get this reunion on film,” Connor pokes. “Epic blackmail material.”

“You wish, man,” Shawn shoves at him. “Not happening.”

“We’ll see, I think you may want that for posterity’s sake. Could be good…” he starts in before getting interrupted.

“To New York!” someone else calls out and the group. Shawn looks at Connor and the camera, smiling again before the clip cuts out.

He looked extra sweet and all that, so I needed to send you the still from it cause it’s a thing you should have coupleish shit and all. Fly safe, we need you here in one piece for him but cause me and you, we need to drink!

You trace over the photo with your finger, you’ve missed him. This was hard, harder than you both thought despite the effort and the trying and the energy. But. But you made it, battle scars and all. You got through 72 days. It makes you realize that him, that this of the two of you. It’s worth it. He’s worth it all.

The next block from Cez are confirming all your travel details, letting you know you’re in first and alone, with his family coming in later that night.

You didn’t hear this from me, but he’s nervous, excited, a little twitchier than normal. Vibrating out of his skin practically but smiling more than I’ve seen. He’s also fighting me on wanting to come to get you at the airport. No promises, but just to prepare you. Think I may let him win this one just this once.

Text or call if you need anything in the meantime and I’ll keep an eye on all the travel timing from my end as well. Look forward to getting more time with you this weekend!

As you are heading back from some last-minute errands so you can finish packing for your super early flight tomorrow morning, your phone trills.

“I get to see you tomorrow, baby. Like in person. With hugs, kisses and you tucked up against me,” he sighs. “I get to have you in my arms and at my show and in my bed. 72 fucking days, we did it.”

TAG LIST: @whenidance, @ts-holland, @sinplisticshawn, @shawnmndes, @fallinallincurls, @itrocksmysocks, @rainbowshawn, @lasingphomustra, @illumecherry, @adelaidestreets, @thotmendes, @shawneu, @turtoix, @eugenedream, @mendesficsxbombay, @somethingaboutshawngoeshere

*Always feel free to ask to be added to the tag list!

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes smut

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anjanettexcordonia · 4 years ago

Text

Ties That Bind

**Trigger Warnings**

DARK DARK DARK

-NSFW/Mental Health/Violence/Rape Minimal fluff if any at all tbh.

***If you are sensitive to any of these please do not read.

Pairing: Liam x MC, Liam x Riley, Drake x Olivia

Word Count: 4,189 (I know its forever long but its worth it in my biased opinion)

This is my first time writing any kind of fiction. I was inspired by all of you amazing writers! I received positive feedback on this chapter so I’m hoping you all like it too! Its very dark and very very twisted. I can not emphasize it enough.

**READ WITH CAUTION**

Excuse any grammatical errors or misspellings.

This will be a six part series. I do not have a timeline for when I will post. (I’m a mom & work full time)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry.

“Riley it’s time to go, My Queen.” Liam yells from the first floor of their quarters. “Drake & Olivia are already almost to Lythikos with our children and we are still at the palace! Let’s goooooo my love!”

Riley & Liam were preparing to head to their Valtorian Estate for a night before heading to the United States for a week long excursion at their Biltmore Estate in North Carolina. The Biltmore was their American private residence. Left to her after the death of her mother. They went twice a year just the two of them. Their children had never stepped foot on the property. Much less America. Riley hated America. She used the country only to satiate her needs. Her father and sister never visited the Biltmore Estate. Her father primarily lived in his penthouse in New York. Her sister never left their childhood home in the Hamptons. The Biltmore was hers to do with as she pleased.

Riley and Liam make their way down to a blacked out Cadillac Escalade waiting for them in the Royal private exit of the garage.

“Liam, let’s call Drake & Olivia one more time before we get to Valtoria. You know after tonight we won’t be communicating with anyone for a full week.” Riley winked at Liam.

My God this woman is my everything. How did I survive without her? Liam thought.

Liam pulls out his iPhone and scrolls to Olivia's name and hits call.

“Yes your majesty,” Olivia purrs into the phone.

“Hello Liv, just checking on the kids. You and Drake know Riley and I will be incognito for a week. Remember if it’s an emergency reach out to Hana and Maxwell. Do not contact us unless it’s literally life or death.” Drake yells through the phone, “Li we do this twice year every year since the first little squirt you two brought home. We got this. By the way what exactly do you guys do in America that you’ve never told us?”

“This trio is a joy. They are perfectly fine. Uncle Max is on his way with Auntie Hana. This should be a Mary Poppins nightmare.” Olivia chuckled.

“It’s just our special time. Not as King and Queen of Cordonia but as husband and wife. That’s all.” Riley replies. Liam squeezing Riley’s thigh at her smirk, knowing full well that wasn’t exactly true.

“Tell our babies we love them, and take care of and protect them while we’re gone. Don’t let Max feed them too much sugar. They will never sleep!”

Always,” Drake softly spoke, “Uncle Drake and Aunt Livvy are going to show them how fun we really are!” Ellie squeals in the background at her Uncle.

Liam & Riley end the call with a sigh of relief. This trip was going to be catalyst. They both knew they were coming back to Cordonia forever changed.

Three hours later Valtoria came into view. The sun was beginning to set over the cascading waterfall behind the large castle. Riley and Liam had been catching up on last minute emails before they arrived. They had an understanding between each other that during their two weeks a year no work was allowed. No cellphones other than 1 for emergencies only. No laptops no tablets of any sort. They completely unplug.

Bastien stopped the suv in front of the large estate. Liam hopped out running around to hold the car door open for his wife. HIS Queen.

Gladys met them outside the door.

“Your majesties” Gladys dipped into a low curtsy.

“Hello Gladys” Liam replied. Is everything ready for our stay tonight and departure in the morning?”

“It is.” Is there anything else Your Majesty requests?”

“No thank you Gladys.”

As they walk towards the entrance of the large French Gothic style castle, Liam scoops Riley into his arms bridal style and walks her across the threshold.

“Good night everyone. Gladys have our usual chicken tangine, apple butter bread, balava & chocolate cake left in the kitchen. Everyone is excused for the rest of the night.”

Gladys nodded her head at her King’s command and curtsied as he walked up the grand staircase.

“Thank you, Gladys!” Riley yelled down at her.

Gladys and Bastien both knew what that meant. Get out now. Do not come back until sunrise under any circumstances. Gladys and Bastien were the only two who knew. And also who knew why.

Liam carried his bride to their suite. Their bedroom at Valtoria was protected. They had it modified during their engagement. No one was allowed entrance. Gladys was the only person granted entrance for 2 hours to clean after each visit. And only under the watchful eye of the Queen herself. This belonged to them. They maintained this room. Not staff. Not like the palace.

The entrance of the door was built almost as a panic room. A large heavy blast proof door protected the entrance. A Handprint scan of both the King and Queen were the only way of access to their master suite. That entire room was reinforced. It was safe. Nothing and no one was coming through to hurt them. If they ever needed protection, this is where they would bring their family. For now, it wasn’t for their family. It was a source of healing and triumph. It was terror and torture. It was love and pain.

Most of the other service members believed they were simply paranoid. Ruling a country you had a right to be paranoid, is what they told themselves when they walked by the master suite. Some were curious about what was behind that heavy steel door. No one ever attempted to sneak peek. They knew better. No one could explain it, as the king and Queen were very kind and fair people, there was a vibe or an energy that everyone could feel from them. It was uncomfortable. Sometimes there was no emotion from either of them. Hollow blank stares & flat monotone voices. That rarely happened. And when it did, their week vacation was close. Whatever they did during those 2 weeks out of the year made them better each time.

🍈

Liam flashes his million dollar smile down at his wife as they enter. His manhood already dancing in its confines. They enter their bedroom and swiftly close the door. Their bedroom in Valtoria is for them. And them only. No one including their children are granted access. And for good reason. The master suite of Valtoria has a large four-poster bed. Above the bed hung a large medal bar suspended from the ceiling with leather arm straps. arm and ankle straps hung from each corner of the bed. The walls were adorned with shelves of Belts, gags, riding crops and rope. There were shelves of weapons large & small daggers and swords.

The walls were a deep maroon. It was still exceptionally regal but with a darker contrast. This is not a place most people would be comfortable walking into. Most people except the King & Queen of Cordonia.

Liam kicked the door shut with a force that made the door trim rattle. He tossed his Queen on to the bed, climbing on top of her. He pulled her full lips into his mouth and breathed her in. He could never get enough of her. How did he survive without her? Without her touch? Her voice? Her scent? He never needed anyone except her. Only her. Forever her. No one could calm him like she could. She was his safe house and his haven. He could do things with and to her no one else could understand. Her crystal blue eyes darkened into the depths of the ocean only for him. He knew her. He was her. They were one. Not only in marriage but spirit and soul. They were connected.

Riley stared up at her husband taking in every perfect feature and every invisible flaw, only flaws she could see. Only flaws she could love. She understood him. She never had to ask why. She was never afraid. It was Game, Set, Match the first time she locked eyes with his deep dark painful eyes. She could sense him before she ever knew him. Her long honey blonde hair pooled around her head as she sank into his fiery kiss. He was the only man she ever willingly kissed. The only man she allowed to ever touch her body. He worshipped her. He was her breath. She couldn’t breathe without him filling her lungs. He filled the deepest parts of her. Parts only he knew existed. Parts that were created not born. Evil. In every sense of the word.

Fourteen Year Old Riley.

“Mother, why are you crying?” Riley watches her mother standing in her large walk-in closet pouring herself another drink.

“Just go away Katherine Riley.” Ashley sighed. Riley could her the sadness in her voice. Usually her mother just ignored her.

“Mother I..I.. I think it’s best we all stay at school for the summer this year.”

“I SAID GO THE FUCK AWAY! WHAT DONT YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT THAT?”

Riley felt the sting of tears in her eyes and she quickly turned to walk away.

“Wait Katie” Ashley sighed. “It’s time we had a conversation. You're old enough now & after the things you’ve seen and heard throughout your life, it won’t come as much of a surprise to you, I believe.” Riley turned around. Eyeing her mother not sure what to make of this conversation.

“Your father & I had what you would call an arranged marriage per se. People of our status in life, it’s not uncommon. We dated some. A short while I suppose. Coming from the families that we do it’s important to ensure that our wealth will always continue to grow, we married after a few months of dating.” Ashley took a long sip of her gin & tonic. “To our parents' delight. Not ours. Not mine.”

“Immediately after we married things changed. I was a virgin & I wasn’t ready yet. I wanted to love my husband first. He stole that from me in the most horrific of ways. And you were the product of that. When I look at you, that’s all I see. I see violence, blood and stolen innocence. Each of your siblings were the products of the same. Violent and brutal attacks. Each time left me broken. After the last assault he shattered my pelvis and ruptured my cervix. I can no longer bear children. That’s all each of you are to me. Your father is evil. An evil which you’ve never known. Next time he will kill me. I’m leaving tonight.”

Riley stood stunned. Trying to wrap her mind around what this woman in front of her has told her. She couldn’t understand. She knew her father tortured her mother. She had her the screams and the slams at night. She saw the blood stained carpets and walls in the stairwell in their Hamptons beach house. She knew her father was evil. All too well. Ashely has no idea the hell her children had been going through. He tormented them as well. He would sneak into her room in the middle of the night when the screams finally ended and watch her. Her brothers never spoke of their trauma but she knew it was there.

“Can we come with you Mother?”

“No.”

“Can you wait until after my birthday? It’s tomorrow Mother?”

Riley wasn’t sure why that memory had flashed through her mind. She furrowed her brows in confusion.

“What is it Riley?”

“I was thinking of the night before he killed her. Random I guess.” Liam leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“My King” Riley sighed, holding his forearms in her grasp.

“Yes My Queen?”

“Are we prepared for our return to the estate?” She asked, leaning into to bite his shoulder as he hovered over.

“We are. Our gifts are already waiting for us. They were delivered this morning. They are being fed and groomed as we speak my love. I’m ready for our warm-up before the real work begins.”

Riley’s stomach groaned.

“I’m ready. We can eat when we’re finished.”

🍋

Liam pulled Riley to her feet. He tugged her top above her head. He was thankful she wasn’t wearing a bra. He leaned down taking a taut pink nipple in his mouth, swirling his tounge until it was a hardened peak. He showed the same attention to the other nipple. Riley pulled Liams t-shirt over his head. She always worshipped her playground. She licked her way between each sculpted ab. Liam gripped her hair as she slid his sweatpants to the floor. She leaned on her knees engulfing his engorged length in her mouth while she swirled her tongue all the way down his shaft. She slowly eased him out of her mouth and stood back up.

“Fuck Riley”

“I just needed to taste you my King.”

Liam bit his bottom lip as he pulled her sweatpants down. Leaving her lacy black thong on her hips.

They walked hand in hand to the large bathroom. The bathroom sleek and modern. Liam felt the warmth of the heated floors on his feet as he lifted his Queen into the tub. He grabbed a bottle of baby oil off the counter. He poured a generous amount into his hands and covered Riley’s body in oil. He gently lifted her from the tub carrying her back to the bedroom. He climbed the small steps on to the bed standing on the mattress. Riley lifted her arms into the arm straps suspended from the high ceiling. Baby oil kept her skin protected and also made it more of a challenge for them.

Once she was firmly secured into the arm and ankle restraints with only the medal bar for her to grip onto, Liam stepped off the bed.

“My Queen, what pray tell interests you tonight?”

“Torture me Liam”

“As you wish my Queen, safe word?”

“Celeste My King”

Liam smirked at her chosen safe word. Oh Celeste will know who her king is too when we’re finished with her. Won’t she my Queen?

Liam grabbed a riding crop from the wall and smacked Riley hard across her bare ass. Thong still in place. Riley winced as she heard the crack of the crop against her slick skin.

“Please my king”

“Shut up, you don’t speak until I tell you to open your filthy mouth for me”

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Liam pulled a small dagger from the bedside table. The handle adorned with red rubies in the shape of W & K. King William Constantine Rhys & Queen Katherine Riley Vanderbilt Rhys.

He ran the dagger along her torso up to her neck tracing old subtle scars.

“Open your mouth baby” Liam whispered.

Riley opened her mouth. She could feel her core pooling. Moisture threatening to drip down her thighs.

Liam slid the dagger over her flattened tongue flipping it over in her mouth. He slid the dagger down her chin to her throat. He pressed the dagger more firm into her skin causing her blood to bubble to the surface. He sliced gently to her belly button. Riley wincing in pain but loving the feel of cold dagger dragging down her flesh.

Liam knelt to his knees and clasped his mouth around her nub. Still holding the dagger against her thigh as he gripped her. He dragged the knife across her sex and sliced her underwear in two.

Liam delved his fingers into her sex as hard as he could. He swirled his tongue around clit. Liam pumped and curled his fingers in out of her fast and hard. His rock hard length dripping precum.

More Liam Don’t stop.” Riley screamed.

Hearing Riley scream made Liam abruptly stop completely. Fingers still inside her, Liam pulled his head back to look up at her.

“Did I tell you to speak?”

Sliding his fingers out, Liam grabbed the crop and slapped it hard across her dripping pussy.

“You speak when I say. Next time I won’t be as calm with you.”

“Fuck you Liam” Riley screamed, Venom dripping from her lips. She was seething at his refusal of her release she so desperately needed.

Riley covered in welts from the crop and dried blood across her torso, Liam unhooked each restraint.

“What the fuck Liam? We aren’t finished playing.”

Liam slapped her hard across the face with the crop. Riley’s head falling to her shoulder. Fire burned in Liams eyes as he watched the blood drip down the corner of her mouth. Riley reached for the dagger as Liam crashed his mouth onto hers. Riley could taste a mixture of copper and salt on his tongue.

Riley dragged the dagger across Liams thigh drawing a bit of blood. She reached the hair on the nape of his neck and pulled hard. Liams neck snapped as she slid the dagger across his jugular.

She dragged the dagger across his chest, ripping his chest open watching the blood drip down his chest to his abdomen.

Liam has enough. He needed her now. He had everything he needed from her. He pulled her into his taking the dagger from her and throwing it on the floor. The slight scabs that had formed from the congealing blood on her sternum ripped open with friction of their bodies rubbing together. Liam slammed Riley into the bed. He grabbed her ankles and spread her as far as apart as he could before slamming his hard cock into her waiting center.

Riley screamed in pain and satisfaction. Her manicured nails digging into back as deep as she could grasp him.

“I’m not holding back My Queen.”

Liam pumped into her hard and fast. He put one hand on her stomach pressing down, the other hand securing her leg as he continued to massage her walls.

Riley ran her fingers across the dripping blood mixed with sweat. She slid her bloody fingers into her mouth eyeing Liam.

Liam leaned his head down and licked the blood pooling between her breasts and crashed his lips into hers. He felt Riley’s wall fluttering knowing she was close. His cock tightened as she came underneath him. Liam wrapped his hand around her neck and squeezed as his thrust became frantic. Riley’s eyes were wide seeing the power and fire in his eyes.

Riley tried to say Celeste. She couldn’t breathe. He was choking the life out of her without even realizing it. He was pumping hard concentrating on his thrusts as his cock disappeared in and out of her glistening walls.

“I. can’t. let. go. Riley.” Liam spoke between breaths.

Riley understood. He physically couldn’t let her go. Even if he did kill her. It wasn’t malice or hate. This was raw pure love. This is what he needed from her. From his wife. And this is what she needed. She needed him to bring her to the brink of life and pull her back at the same time. This was them.

Liam found his release deep within her. He released her neck right as everything went black. Riley’s eyes fluttered open with a satisfied grin on her face.

“I love you so much my Queen.”

“I love you Liam.“

They laid together on their white silk sheets breathless. Both of their minds running towards the following week.

“We should get cleaned up my love. We’ve made quite the mess I suspect.” Liam whispered.

They both slowly rose from the cloud like confines in a state of stupor.

They made sure to always have white sheets to see every drop they spilled from each other. They’re bodies marked from each other’s carnal pleasure. A release unlike any they’ve shared with anyone else.

“My King you did well. Let’s leave the sheets for tonight.”

“Very well my Queen. I’m not finished with you yet. We will have a week before our next release.”

The dawn crept through they’re tightly drawn curtains. Riley stretched reaching for her husband but found his side of the bed cold. Riley slowly rose from the bed. Still naked and marked from their endless night. Riley made her way to the shower to find Liam soaking in the tub.

“Join me?”

Riley slid in front of him feeling the sting from her open wounds that covered her body.

“We have a long flight to states in an hour. Are you ready for this Riley?”

“Liam It’s time. It’s time to take off our masks and savor the tastes of revenge. Of freedom.”

“This is our last time. We need to take our time with them. Please don’t make it too quick like last time with Madeline.”

“My king, I take offense.” Riley huffed. “I gave you the release you craved with Madeline. Her life was a sweet release for me.”

An hour later the King and Queen bordered their private jet to American hand in hand.

Biltmore Estate

“I can’t believe I’m doing this for these twisted fucks. Fucking monarchs just get to do whatever they want with whomever they want.” Anthony muttered to himself.

Anthony was the groundskeeper. He took care of everything for his King and Queen during their stays. And they paid him handsomely. He primarily resided at the estate to maintain the grounds as well as the estate itself. The estate held many secrets that he was tasked to solely hold.

“Please” a raspy voice called out.

“Shut up Celeste. Your King is on his way.”

Celeste let a muffled cry as she heard the bars slam shut.

“I’ll be back to get you cleaned up when I’m finished with Ashley and Amelia.”

The private jet landed at the airport in Raleigh North Carolina. Liam and Riley made their discreetly to an SUV meant to take them to their estate.

“Your majesty King Liam” Anthony bowed.

Liam rushed in. “Hello Anthony, you are dismissed. I’ll need the keys to the Bowels please. Our gifts are secure and ready I presume?”

“Yes your majesty, they have been cleaned, fed, and await you. I will take my leave now.”

Riley waited in the suv until Anthony left. She couldn’t maintain a stoic facade during their times away. She spotted Anthony’s car pull away from the estate headed to the servants quarters. Riley rushed out and straight to Liam pulling him into a lustful kiss. They made their way to the nicknamed Bowels, a cellar that has been retrofitted with cells. They hold Liam and Riley’s victims as well as their aggressors.

“Wait Liam, why is Anton here?”

Riley looked on the computers outside the cellar doors in the security room. They were only supposed to have 3 women. She didn’t understand. What was Liam up to?

Liam smirked. Suddenly a loud knocking was coming from the front doors. They glanced down at the monitors. Riley’s eyes widened when she saw the fiery red hair standing in front of the cameras.

“Liam uh where are our children? Please...”

“Riley. They are with Max and Hana in Lythikos. Leo will be there soon to help with them as well. Don’t worry my love. Now to explain about Drake and Liv. They needed to see the truth. About them, about us. I’m ready to share parts of our true selves with the family we created.”

Riley nodded. She was not in a teaching mood.

“Private now Liam.”

“What Riley? What’s the problem?”

“The problem? How can we be US with them? I’m not here to teach them how to become sociopaths like us Liam. Fuck.”

“Relax baby.” Liam only used the baby pet name when he was confident in his prowess.

“Fine. They better not fuck this up and I’m not holding back.”

The two couples made their way to the cellar door. Liam held Riley’s hand while he unlocked the door. The electronic key and palm scanner both sprang green in sequence. Drake and Liv quickened their breath.

“We have a ritual guys if you don’t mind standing back. And you can join if you like.” Riley calmly stated.

Liam and Riley stripped naked. Liam pushing Riley against the cellar door in a hungry kiss. Liv admired the marks and scars the two in front of her were covered in. Some old, some new. She was intrigued. Drake’s breath quickened. They joined their best friends in the nude. Liam and Riley glanced behind them noticing Liv and Drake in the same fashion. None of them faced with the pain they had felt at sometime or the other. The abuse. The abuse that twisted them into who they were. Not who they had become.

The door opened. Celeste gasped seeing her half brother, sister in law, the scarlet duchess & the commoner walking through the door naked. Celeste had no idea what circle of hell she was about to enter. Nor that there were others destined to meet the same fate she would soon come to meet. At the hands of her King and his Queen.

“Hello Cece” Liam laughed in a voice unrecognizable to the others in the group yet all too familiar to his wife.

The demons have come out to play.

#theroyalromance #kingliam queenriley dark twisted triggerwarnings mc kingliamxmc drake olivia

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garagnon-gallery · 3 years ago

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sedona arizona history

Scenic Sedona Arizona History

Sedona is located in the Upper Sonoran Desert of northern Arizona at an elevation of 4500 feet. Uptown Sedona (the part in Coconino County) and West Sedona (the Yavapai County portion) form the City of Sedona. Originally founded in 1902, the town was incorporated into a city in January 1988

Southwestern America's stunning desert country, with its soaring red sandstone outcrops and formations, is a major attraction for visitors to the Arizona city of Sedona.

Millions of years ago, the area now known as Sedona was covered with sea. Ever so slowly with the gradual withdrawal of the waters combined with the earth’s powerful forces of upheaval, this masterpiece of nature was created. Sculpted by wind and erosion, the crimson monuments of vividly colored mesas were formed. Today Sedona is brightly adorned with panoramic beauty so unique it doesn’t exist anywhere else in the world.

The spectacle of Sedona is crystal clear, but the history of ancient inhabitants is a bit blurred over the last 10,000 years or so. Artifacts, prehistoric dwellings, petroglyphs and other archaeological evidence confirm that various civilizations lived in the Sedona area beginning in about 8,000 BC. Historians and researchers somewhat disagree on timelines of when these original “Native Americans” came, why they left and what happed to them.

Most believe that the first inhabitants migrated across land connecting Ancient Asia with North America. These nomads are now referred to as “Paleo Indians”. Evidence suggests that the “Anasazi Indians” came next followed by the Hohokam during the period of 500 AD to 700 AD.

The name Anasazi was coined by the Navajos and means “The ancient ones who weren’t us”. For mysterious reasons, the Anasazi left the area. The Hohokam introduced irrigation farming which is evidenced by ancient canals that still exist today.

The Sinaqua Tribe which means “without water” in Spanish came to the Sedona area about 900-1000 AD. The Sinaquans are known to have been “dry farmers” (hence their name) and traded with other native groups some of which extended into South America. Many archaeologists believe that a gigantic volcanic eruption at about 1060 AD which formed the Sunset Crater forced the Sinaquans to flee the area. Others conclude that new war-like tribes attacked and forced them out for an extended period. Some evidence suggests that the volcanic ash created more fertile soils which enticed the return of the Sinaquans followed by the return of Anasazi remnants that taught the Sinaquans to build multi-storied dwellings into cliff-sides as defensive mechanisms. Some of these pueblo dwelling ruins still stand today at “ Montezuma Castle” and the “ Palatki Ruins

Quite suddenly around the 1300s, they seemed to have abandoned the area quickly. Some theorize that most were eliminated by other nearby inhabitants with other Sinaquans fleeing to subsequently meld with native inhabitants farther to the north.

Perhaps over an extended period of time, tribal segments branched off and integrated with other tribes and became the prehistoric ancestors of today’s various Indian Tribes in various parts of Arizona, Utah and New Mexico. Many researchers believe the Hopi Indians are descendants of the ancient Anasazi.

Who knows for sure what happened to the first “citizens of Sedona”, the Paleo, Anasazi, Hohokam and Sinaqua. Did they see the same Sedona we see today? Was it as beautiful then as it is today? That also we’ll never know. But we all are thankful for the treasures of artifacts they left us to enjoy and this spectacular place now called Sedona for the whole world to experience.

The quest for gold and silver riches brought Spanish explorers to the Sedona area in about 1583. It is believed that Antonio de Espejo was the first European to set foot in Sedona and what a sight it must have been. Antonio never discovered gold or silver but did discover the beauty that took nature millions of years to create. As did the first inhabitants, the Spanish left their contributions to history as well in the form of Colonial Architecture and descendents that have made a historical impact on all of Arizona.

Near the beginning of the 1900s, there were few Caucasian squatters in the Sedona area. One was T.C. Schnebly and his wife. T.C. petitioned the U.S. Postal Service to make a postal stop in the area. The post office needed a name and he suggested several which were rejected by the Postmaster General as being too long. Schnebly’s brother suggested submitting the name of T.C.’s wife. Her name was “Sedona” and the rest is history.

Apples and peaches were Sedona’s first main industry. Frank L. Pendley homesteaded land alongside Oak Creek and harnessed the water to irrigate his orchards. Today the original homestead is owned by the State Park system as “ Slide Rock State Park”. Yes, apple trees still produce delicious fruit that is sold to the visiting public to help cover the cost of administering the park. Old historic structures still reside in the park as a continuous reminder of years past.

Sedona was discovered by Hollywood in the 1950s. Its startling beauty and unique backdrop attracted movie producers that used Sedona as the setting for over 70 films. The Sedona secret was out. Gradually, Sedona became the getaway home of some of the world’s rich and famous.

Today, tourism is Sedona’s primary industry attracting over 4 million visitors a year second only to the Grand Canyon as Arizona’s most visited destination.

Dwell upon the ancient history of past civilizations. Imagine if they were here today to take one peek at what they discovered thousands of years ago. The coexistence of architecture that artfully blends with nature. The game of golf under the blue skies. The luxury resorts along the creek and mountainsides. The awe-inspiring attractions that entices the senses. And the joy of seeing their own ancient artifacts that confirms their prehistoric existence.

Thanks Paleo. Thanks Anasazi, Hohokam and Sinaqua. You served Sedona and the world well.

Photos on this article are from pexels and other net free sourcrs

this article is in the public domain

#sedona arizona history

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horrorslashergirl · 4 years ago

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Hunter meeting Hunter

A Xaviera Lah-Mo and Andrei Kulokova Story Chapter 3

Authors Note: Wow....This one is long, but I was in such a big writing mood for these two that I had to do it. We learn some of Xaviera’s memories, we see some sparks flying and we see how two souls bond into one.

Chapter 1 HERE

Chapter 2 HERE

Xaviera Lah-Mo belongs to me

Andrei Kulokova @the-slasher-files

Warnings: 18+ because there are sexual scenes and straight up SMUT

Words: 5.8k

After that incident, Xaviera stayed the rest of the night preparing for the hunt; cleaning her sniper rifle, a weapon that took the life of so many poachers across the globe, from Asia to Africa and even Europe, annihilating greedy humans that wanted to take lives of animals for their own egoistical gains.

Then there were the small arrows. She smirked, remembering how some mocked the small weapons, insignificant at first glance, but only if they knew what they packed, they would have thought twice.

Xaviera learned that size sometimes doesn't help you when faced with a creature that has enough venom to put down an elephant. Her favorites were the snake neurotoxins, like the one of the black African mamba, it's venom could kill a human in 20 minutes if you don't have the anti-venom. It was like a ticking bomb.

Then the venom of the King Cobra; its bite delivers a tremendous amount of paralysis-inducing neurotoxins. The snake’s venom is so strong and so voluminous that it can kill an elephant in just a few hours. Death also results in at least 50 to 60 percent of untreated human cases.

Oxyuranus microlepidotus, also called, appropriately, the fierce snake; Xaviera remembers encountering this deadly snake. She witnessed it during one of the expeditions and one of the researchers got bitten. The venom consists of taipoxin, a complex mix of neurotoxins, procoagulants, and myotoxins that paralyze muscles, inhibit breathing, cause hemorraging in blood vessels and tissues, and damage muscles. The researcher didn't survive; a single drop of venom from the reptile can supposedly kill 100 men.

It left many experts dumbfounded, but Xaviera learned to respect that snake.

'Respect what can kill you.' That's what her father used to tell her when she was little.

'Never underestimate the size of some creatures.' he also would say.

Sitting down at the table, injecting the hallow arrows with the specific venoms, her mind drifted to the memories of when her father would take her to his travels, teaching her all the basic surviving tactics, how to approach certain animals.

'You can look, but you can't touch.' he would instruct her, especially when they encountered very majestic animals, like the banded krait. It was a beautiful snake, it's scaling in obsidian black and strong yellow, but when her father told her that the neurotoxin it sported can induce paralysis, she quickly nodded.

Xaviera missed him so much, and her mother too. She would always patch Xaviera up when she got hurt, also teaching her medical tactics, how to stop hemorrhage, how to properly disinfect a wound and stitch it up.

The white-haired woman closed her eyes; she was getting emotional and that was a dangerous thing to do, considering the predicament she was into. She needed to remember that there was also a predator with her in the cottage.

For now, he seemed unharmful. If he so badly had wanted, he could have killed her by now.

'Never let your guard down when you are surrounded by wild creatures.' her father's words echoed in her head.

She swallowed hard, remembering one time when she was careless, her young age and immaturity showed back then.

She went with her father on a small trip close to their homes in North America, in dense forests to observe the wilderness, only for this expedition to almost take Xaviera's life. They encountered three small bear cubs.

That meant only one thing; there was also a mother bear near and she was furious. Xaviera couldn't blame the adult bear. She was protecting her cubs and if it wasn't for her father that tranquilized the feral, giant of an animal, Xaviera wouldn't have been here now.

Although, the Grizzly Bear gave the white-haired woman a souvenir to remember her by. She remembers how the bear charged towards her, flashing jaws that could probably crush her skull and claws that were five-inch long.

It left five long deep enough scratch marks from her hip down her outer thigh, almost to her knee. Her father saved her; always carrying a tranquilizer-gun in case they encounter wild and untamed beasts.

Xaviera sighed, finished with the venomous arrows, putting them in a special bag, made of thick leather. Carrying around weapons like this was deadly. You never know if you accidentally pierce yourself with one.

Her light blue eyes moved to the window, seeing it was already morning, lightly snowing. Maybe tomorrow she will go out if the weather calmed down, itching to finish the leeches that she knew very well had captured a snow leopard.

'The fucking parasites.' she thought, her brows pulled into a frown.

Her gruesome fantasy disappeared when the need for food made itself known, stomach signaling her that. She moved towards the kitchen, starting to make some soup, cutting the vegetables, calculating the number of ingredients she needed for two people.

She groaned; why did she care for that man's well being? He was obscene, cocky, and infuriating. Still, the way he shushed and cooed her after her nightmare made something in her chest light up, like a small fire that started to heat up her insides.

She huffed in annoyance at this. He was infuriating. Period.....and he made her want to castrate him.

But none deserves to die by starvation, so pushing the strong emotions aside she continues to prepare the dish, putting all the ingredients cauldron and letting it boil, waiting next to it, absorbing in the warmness it provided and the delicious aromas, while she was reading one of her zoology books, enjoying the silence, while it lasts because she knows once the soup is done she will have to go back upstairs with that infuriating specimen of a male.

Xaviera was so into reading, stopping at a paragraph about ranks in the packs of animals when the soup started to boil. She set the book down on the table, then filled two bowls with the hot food, letting it cool down a little, preparing herself to go upstairs and hope she won't be forced to scratch his face off.

Taking the bowls and setting them on a tray, she slowly marched upstairs, feeling her heartbeat pick up a little.

Headstrong man plays with her head.

She pushed the door open with her foot, seeing Andrei gaze out the window, his knives next to him on the bed. She walked towards the nightstand to set the tray down, the small clang of it pulling the man from his thoughts.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and confused face, still suspicious probably for why she was still taking care of him. To be honest, Xaviera didn't know the answer either. Curse him for being more animal than human.

"Thank you, myshka." he spoke, taking the bowl of soup and sitting it on his lap.

She nodded his way, taking her own bowl of soup and sitting in the armchair like she did yesterday. It felt like such a deja vu.

"None deserves to die by starvation." she simply told him, starting to eat in silence, savoring the first spoons of the warm dish.

"So...Are you going to tell me what you are doing here in Himalaya?" she asked, looking at him with curious blue eyes.

He looked at her for a few seconds, like he was debating if he should answer.

"My job...it's um, well I'm a...I kill people for money." he answered, then continued.

"The poachers are from Ukraine, and the job took me here." he finished, watching her carefully as he took a sip off the spoon.

Normal people would probably be frightened by such a statement, but Xaviera was no normal woman. She killed humans herself and she lost count of how many died; sometimes by having their heads shot or a deadly venomous arrow piercing them, but that's the easy case.

Most of the time she just started the kill, then watched as the animals killed the poachers. Being ripped to shreds by a lion wasn't an easy dead.

Xaviera tilted her head to the side curiously like a cat.

"I see. Well, they are dead so I am more than content with that, although there are more leeches that need to be crushed." she replied, almost finished with her soup.

"Once the snowing stops I am out to balance the ecosystem." she told him, the corners of her lips twitching up in a faint dark smile.

His gaze was directly on her.

"So much fight, so much promise within you, little mouse..." he spoke, taking another spoonful of soup.

"The fire you have is strong...don't ever let anyone take that from you." he finished, getting up, making Xaviera tense a little.

He looked like he would stroke her cheek or share an intimate moment, which made Xaviera nervous, only for the Russian to hand her the half-empty bowl of soup and ruffling her white hair, giving her a smirk, then disappearing downstairs.

She was surprised he healed so fast; probably was used to it, but that's not what clouded the woman's mind. His words, much like the Grizzly scars that she was sporting and hiding, were now printed deep in her mind, giving her a feeling of pride, feeling like her ears were on fire, probably from blushing.

It was so long since someone told her such words, the last time someone praised her in such a deep way was her father. She shook her head, clearing her mist-filled mind, taking the tray with the two almost empty bowls, and walking downstairs.

The first thing she saw Andrei look through his weapons; she was tense at first, probably waiting for him to use them on her, but after she realized he was only checking them, she walked towards the kitchen sink to wash the dishes.

"Y'know the kife, this one here, it is my favorite weapon...." he begins to speak, but she didn't look his way, but she did listen to his words.

"Only certain soldiers are skilled with these...." he continues and Xaviera hears his footsteps.

"It is very intimate game of life, death and the blade in hand...almost like a dance." his voice sounds very close and she knows that he is behind her, making her stop, her hands holding the bowl while she tries not to let him get to her; she needs to control her emotions.

She felt like ice was dripping down her back when one of Andrei's hands wee gently placed on her hip, where her scars started down, but luckily the clothes were hiding them.

He moved his other hand that held the knife in front of her, her jaw tense, prepared in case he decided to do something and test his theory that followed.

"This knife has saved me more than hundred times." she could feel his hot breath down the nape of her neck; cursing herself for pulling her hair into a messy bun, but the long white locks always got in the way when she washed the dishes.

His lips grazed her soft skin, making her eyes widen.

"And my favorite part...seeing the knife slip quietly between the bones, slicing skin like butter, dripping in hot blood as you pull it back...." then he kissed her neck, her shoulders so tense, like a feline ready to pounce.

"It's a beautiful sight." he finished, pulling the knife from her view.

She would have probably used her sarcasm on him, telling him how oh-so poetic he can be, but she couldn['t, because the Russian was in her personal space, way too close for her comfort and not in the usual 'I wanna choke you to death until your eyes are dull and lifeless'.

No. There was too much sexual ineduo dripping from his words and you could taste the atmosphere, which by seconds it turned electric.

Her breathing was the first giveaway of her feelings, a new form of vulnerability enveloping her.

She never had someone so intimately close to her, in such a way that made her feel like she was walking on thin ice.

"W-What are you doing?" she asked, cursing her voice for sounding so weak, so fragile.

Andrei just huffed in laughter, amused at her discomfort.

"Well, little mouse, we are probably going to be stuck here for a few days, and there is no TV or entertainment...." he replied, the hand that was holding the knife, grazed the outside of her thigh, moving upward, only to make her more anxious.

"I am not a big fan of reading, so I thought you could be my entertainment." he finished by kissing her neck, sensitive to his touch and making her breath hitch in her throat.

The sexual ineduo was too obvious now, the grip on the bowl so tight she almost broke it. Her eyes wide, not knowing how to react or what to do, never being in such a combusting situation.

"I-I...." she tried to form words, but it's like they were stuck in her throat, knees starting to shake.

She was a nervous mess.

"Cat got your tongue?" he sarcastically asked, playing with the hem of her shirt, while his other hand held her hip tight, making sure she was planted against him.

"Or should I say wolf?" he laughed, his canines grazing along her naked shoulder, nipping and kissing, all thanks to her over-sized shirt that slipped of her shoulder.

The white-haired woman felt her cheeks go on fire at the way his voice sounded and how he touched her.

What was she supposed to say? That she never indulged in the more carnal and primal activities? That she never was touched? That she was a virgin!?

She had a few boyfriends in college, but there was nothing more than kissing and a little bit of touching here and there; of course, nothing could compare to what the Russian in front of her was doing to her.

When his canines nipped more at her skin she dropped the bowl into the sink.

"N-No...It's just..." again she couldn't find it in her to properly speak.

In a flash, Andrei roughly whipped her around and hauled her on the counter with ease in a display of raw strength, making her squeak, his form settling himself between her legs, towering over her small form. His ice-blue eyes staring her down, his large and rough hands on her thigh, admiring the way she shook.

He was allowing her to speak, to continue her phrase.

Her eyes widened at the position they were in, too intimate, not to mention the way he looked at her, like a very dangerous animal ready to go in for the kill. She gulped down, trying to find her words.

"I-I....I've never..." she began, breaking eye contact with the intimidating Russian, hoping he will get the drift because it was so embarrassing to say the words herself.

Slowly, he pulled away, maintaining the predatory look, only to broke in a burst of full-on loud laughter, showing off his teeth and squinting his eyes, holding his chest and walking backward.

His laugh was deep and almost shook the cottage.

"Y-You....you what???...."

She felt her face heat up more at his reaction, laughing at her like she was a joke.

"S-Stop laughing..." she huffed, but he still didn't stop.

"I said, stop laughing, jackass!" she screamed, getting off the kitchen counter.

His laughing continued, watching her with amused eyes.

"Ba-Baby girl...oh my God." he was almost to the point of tears in his laughter and that's when Xaviera snapped.

Her icy blue eyes turning into a glare, feeling completely insulted at his laughter.

Before she knew what she was doing, her hands grasped his shirt and pushed him against the closest wall with all her strength she could muster, taking advantage of him being distracted.

"Stop laughing, asshole!" she snarled up at him; looking like a kitten that hissed at the big bad wolf.

The laughter instantly stopped, his smile dropping and turning into a snarl, his eyes darkening by her actions.

Swiftly, Andrei grabbed her throat and whipped her against the wall he was just against. She was ready to tell him to fuck off, but his large and muscular thigh was placed between her legs, right in the center, a mewl leaving her lips.

A new type of fire formed in the pit of her stomach, one that made her weak in the knees.

"W-What?" she choked out, her fingernails digging into the wrist of his hand that was wrapped around her neck, not tight enough to stop air to fill her lungs, but enough to assert his dominance over her.

Her wide eyes looked directly into his wolfish ones.

His breath hissed through gritted teeth like he was trying to control himself. He swallowed harshly, removing his hand from her neck, cupping her jaw, and stroking his thumb on her cheek.

The size difference between them was nerve breaking and she knew if he so saw fit he could rip her jaw off.

The dark scenario in her head vanished when he spoke.

"You're so beautiful, Xaviera." the first time he used her name and his words made her feel like she was made of jelly.

That glimpse of softness disappeared when the Russian grabbed her ass, making her wrap her legs around his waist, a growl leaving from deep within his chest when she accidentally grind on him a little.

She had no time to say anything because his lips crashed on hers.

Everything made her feel so dizzy and she knew if it weren't for his hands supporting her, she would have fallen down. The words he spoke echoed in her head, making her feel like her ribcage was gonna combust from how fast her heart was beating.

The adrenaline.

When she had grinded down on him, she felt something to say so....intimidating.....just like him.

"A-Andrei...." she squeaked against his mouth, her hands fisting into his shirt.

His mouth devoured hers and she found herself so weak by the many flavors he was sporting; the taste of tobacco, earl grey tea, and the faintness of the spicy soup.

He nipped at her bottom lip before he broke the kiss.

"I have you, little mouse." he whispered lowly, walking over to the couch, sitting himself down with her on his lap, his eyes trained on her like he was lost in his own mysterious mind.

Closing his eyes, he kissed her again, but this time it was much slower, but passionate, his finger laced into her soft, white hair. Her much smaller hands were gripping his shirt tight, afraid that if she let go she would fall from the rock and hit the bottom hard.

She tried to mimic the kiss, still wondering why she didn't push him away, smashing his balls and making him impotent for all his remaining life.

Maybe it was because she had never met a man like him, someone so dangerous and so at ease with his more primal instincts.

Again, he pulled away, his hand grasping her chin, resting his forehead on hers.

"But how myshka?....you're so beautiful." he asked.

How? Perhaps, she hadn't met someone that could match her, someone who wasn't afraid to indulge in the wilder side, someone who could actually keep up with her....Someone who can protect her.

She remembers in one expedition, there was a guy who tried to flirt with her, only to scream and run when one Boa fell down from a tree in front of her, and before that he was acting like he was all man and that masculinity.

"I-I've never found someone....Well...Compatible to say so...." she answered his question, looking up at him innocently from under her eyelashes.

Something sparked in his eyes, something she couldn't place her finger on.

"I will take care of you....ssh." he murmured, running his thumb along her soft lips.

Her mouth opened instinctually, his thumb moving gently inside her mouth, her tongue running over his digit and lips wrapped around it. His pupils dilatated at her innocent gesture, lips pulled into a small snarl. He was trying to control himself.

He pulled his hand away, only for his mouth to start leaving opened mouthed kisses along her neck and shoulder, his big hands running under her shirt. Everywhere he touched her, he left a hot trail of fire, making her slowly moan, still shy about everything.

Xaviera tilted her head in the opposite direction, allowing him more access, just like a female animal does for the strongest male; a sign of submission. Her hands moved from his shirt to run her fingers through his hair; so soft, so fluffy, reminding her of the fur coat of a wolf.

She never felt like this before, the intensity of all her nerve-endings was stretching, absorbing every touch he gave her. She was so caught up in this newfound pleasure, just mewling in appreciation of all the attention he was basking her in, that th sound of material being ripped pulled her from the induced hormonal state.

Ice blue eyes opening to see he had ripped her shirt like it was made of paper, exposing her upper body, chest covered by a simple white bra, nothing fancy. When you were always on the run like a wild free-spirited animal just like her, you didn't have time to worry about expensive lingerie with all kinds of designs.

His hands quickly moved behind her to undo her bra, breaking the hook in the process, but that was her last of her worry because when the white material was tossed behind him, she wanted to cover herself, but he was much quicker than her, grasping her wrists from doing so. Not enough to break, but enough to tell her not to cover.

The way he was looking at her made her nervous; were they too small, not his desired shape? His tongue peeked out from his mouth, running along one of his canines.

A loud gasp tore from her throat when his mouth laced to one of her nipples, sucking and biting on it greedily. The other breast wasn't ignored, his calloused hand grabbing the globe of flesh, his fingers twisting the nipple.

Her hands tugged on his light brown faux hawk, her head tossed back, and looking at the ceiling. She never knew that such actions could make her feel like this; it made her feel weak, but in such a delicious way, wetness forming between her legs, giving her an uncomfortable feeling.

Trying to adjust herself, she ground on him, feeling the bulge in his cargo pants, only for a primal growl to erupt from Andrei, biting her nipple rather roughly, making her scream, whimpering as he started to lap at the rosy red bud.

It was such a weird mix of pain and pleasure.

His mouth, moved up along her chest, continuing to nip and bite, leaving trails of hickeys in his path; just like a wolf marking his territory. Blue and purples adored her pale skin in intricate patterns.

"Myshka." he growled against her neck, canines grazing her pulse, making the white-haired woman whimper; not in fear, but in sinful submission, something she never thought she would do.

Before she knew it, he moved off the couch with his hands supporting her body again, hands groping her small tight ass as he marched upstairs, her arms wrapped around his neck.

The door to the bedroom was kicked open rather roughly and surprisingly, her form gently laid on the bed and he pulled her lips into a sloppy kiss, showing how eager he was to devour her, to make her feel things she never even had in her life.

He loved to bite, that's for sure, Xaviera noticed that and his sharp canines only made him more of a beast than a man, but God if it didn't send her into a turned-on mess. She could feel how soaked she was and she knew he would be all smug about it.

His lips moved to her ear, licking it, then nipping on the cartilage. Xaviera squeaked, her hands running up and down his chest, feeling the hard muscles underneath.

"Sensitive there, baby girl?" he whispered in her ear, blowing hot air, stealing more lewd noises from the woman underneath him.

She was ready to throw him some colorful words, but that thought flew off the window when he sucked harshly on her earlobe, his hands, tugging her pants down in such an uncivil way, leaving her with only a pair of white cotton panties.

His eyes drifted to something that caught his interest; her Grizzly scars. She was afraid he might be pulled off by them, but she was surprised to feel him gently trace the marks, silently telling her it was alright, nothing to be ashamed of.

His eyes then moved to her panties.

Andrei smirked at the choice of her colors, so simple yet so innocent, running two thick fingers up and down her covered pussy, making her legs twitch.

"So cute, little mouse." he commented, making her face heat up.

He always managed to turn her into a flustering mess. She looked at him with confusion when he crawled off her, only for her legs to be thrown on his broad shoulders, his fingers pulling her panties aside, taking a glimpse at her most private parts, so untouched. His big thumb caressed her folds, spreading her wetness more.

"You're so wet for me, baby girl....I wanna have a taste of this juicy pussy of yours." he whispered, voice rough and growling at the end.

Her eyes widened when he felt his mouth on her, tongue lapping at what her heat had to offer him, his canines grazing her outer labia. Her hands fisted the bedsheets, as a series of lustful moans and mewls escaped her mouth; the way he was working her, switching from suckling to biting, the heels of her feet digging into his broad back, instinctually her legs closed around his head, pulling him in closer.

"A-Andrei!" she squeaked his name as his sharp teeth nibbled on her clit, making tears form at the corner of her eyes from how the pleasure was hitting her like a dagger.

It didn't help the growls that left his mouth, sending vibrations straight up her core and a weird feeling was forming into the pit of her stomach; she knew what was gonna happen.

"W-Wait....S-Stop....O-Or I am gonna-" she warned him, but he was just his stubborn self, not stopping his assault on her pussy, pushing one thick finger inside her and she was done, a long and loud whine.

She breathed heavily as he lapped up her juices, slowly raising up and looking at her with wide eyes, that feral look in them making her tremble.

"S-Sorry...." she apologized, seeing his mouth, jaw, and chin covered in wetness.

His wet lips pulled into his trademark wolfish grin, canines on full display, delighted by what she just did. He moved back over her, smashing his lips eagerly on hers, making Xaviera taste herself.

"See how good you taste, pussycat?" he asked against her lips, her eyes half-lidded as he looked into his own.

Her hands tugged on his shirt, a small whine leaving her, wanting to feel his skin. Getting up, he tugged his black shirt off, strong muscles on display, skin that was covered in scars, especially a big one down his chest, her eyes following the movements of his hands as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his cargo pants.

He kicked his combat boots off, then teasingly slipped the last piece of clothing off, along with his boxers. Innocent blue eyes widened as his length was freed, slapping against his abdomen. Her mouth hung open; he was big, everything about him was big, and screamed pure raw strength. Precum oozed from the rosy type, two obvious veins along the girthy length.

When her eyes looked up at his face, she could tell he was mighty proud of what he was packing; masculine pride.

"Close your mouth, myshka before I put something to occupy it." his obscene words made her quickly close it, hearing him chuckle at her flustered face.

The Russian moved back over her, his big hands pinning her tiny ones next to each side of her head as he gazed down directly into her glassy ones.

She gasped as he felt his length rub between her legs, the material of her panties adding to the friction.

"Feel what you're doing to me, darling? This is all your work." he growled, an inch away from her lips, her panties thoughtfully soaked.

In one swift move, one hand left her wrist to rip her panties off, coming back to grip her wrist back.

That was it, no more barries, nothing else between them, his cock rubbing directly on her soft skin, wet and eager for him to take it.

"P-Please..." she whispered, her legs opening more for him.

"W-What was that, myshka? You have to be more precise." he teased, making her whine.

She couldn't believe he was going to make her beg; he had managed to do something no man has ever done.

"P-Please...I-I need it." she choked out when his mouth laced on the skin behind her ear.

"What's that you want? My big cock, baby girl? That's what you want so badly?" he snarled into her ear, his canines running up and down the length of her neck and she threw her head back, the full length of her neck now on display, exactly like a female in heat that needs to be mounted by the most powerful male; the most intimate act of submission.

"Yes, please! Now, hurry up!" she screamed, exasperated with this anticipation.

That seemed to be the call because the follow action made her choke on her own breath, legs wrapping around his waist and her fingernails digging into his back, her mouth in an 'o' shape as she gazed with deer-like eyes into his feral ones, trying probably not to fuck her brains out since it's her first time.

She felt so full like she was going to be ripped in half, tears running down her cheeks, her breath stuck in her throat.

One of his hands cupped her cheek, whipping her tears away.

"Shhh...Breath, myshka....Breath. I'm here." he cooed, letting her adjust and she was very grateful for that.

No way was he average. Fuck no.

She tried to control her body, her breathing, relaxing her tense muscles as much as she could and she gave him a slight nod, motioning for him to move a little, which he did, very slowly, but by the way, his jaw was so tense, muscles bulging under scarred skin, she knew it was hard to control himself.

First, just some experimental thrusts, adjusting to his size, closing her eyes, the foreign feeling of pain fading away little by little which each push and pull until there was only pleasure, her moans signaling him that he could move harder, which he happily did, but he still held back.

"Fuck....You're so tight." he growled in her neck, slipping in and out of her cunt.

Xaviera couldn't form words and she let the primal sounds speak. The slow, languid pace quickly turned into fast and experimental thrusts, their skin slapping together whenever Andrei hilted inside her.

"So dripping for me." he breathed, his hands moving to grasp her ass.

"Yesssss." the white-haired woman mewled, her hands running through his hair.

He used his grip on her behind to move her body up and down his length, her body so light and easy to manhandle.

Now she knew why the animals were so feral in mating; how could you not be when all this pleasure is exploding through your veins. She knew it wasn't going to take her long to cum again, not by how he was starting to pound her cunt.

"Are you close, little mouse?" he asked her, one of her hands fisting his hair.

"I can feel you squeezing around me so eagerly." he sounded so primal; like a true apex predator wanting to conquer his mate.

"Mhmm..." she answered, the delicious knot ready to snap.

"Who do you belong to?" he growled, canines dangerously close to her neck artery.

"W-What?" she asked in a breathless moan.

She guessed that wasn't what he wanted to hear, because he gave her such a harsh thrust that made her toes curl.

"I asked.....Who do you belong to?" his voice had a growling tint, clearly losing his patience.

All her ration vanished then.

"Y-You.....I'm yours. I'm all yours." Xaviera whined when he slipped his cock almost all the way out, only for the tip to rest inside her.

He was going to kill her like this.

He kept her like this, only to took her by surprise when he pushed all the way in, a series of quick and deep thrusts followed, the tip of his length hitting that sweet spot inside her over and over, and she came heavily, her fingernails so deep in his back, running down, leaving a trail of hot red marks.

His cock twitched inside her and she felt warmness in the pit of her belly, making her feel like she was flying on a cloud, but she also had the feeling that she was really fucking a wolf, by the sound that left Andrei's mouth. His lips pulled into a snarl, deadly k9's glinting and the most erotic growl she ever heard meet her ears.

They both tried to catch their breaths, a smirk tugging at the Russian's lips as he looked down at her face; rosy red cheeks, eyes showing deep satisfaction and her lips swollen from the kissing.

"Speechless, koshechka?" (koshechka=pussycat)

Xaviera just gulped down, nodding her head and making him chuckle at her adorable expression, his hand coming to her head, running his thick fingers through her long soft winter locks, his mouth moving to her head as he whispered in Russian.

She didn't know what he said, but by the way, he spoke, it feels soothing, like he was singing her a lullaby.

She felt his thumb graze her pulse, one of her hands running up and down his chest gently, especially over his big scar.

It was like the fire died down and the only thing that was left was a sense of tranquility, a smile tugging at Xaviera's lips.

"Moy prekrasnyy snezhnyy bars." he whispered against her neck, kissing one of the bigger bitemarks he left on her. (moy prekrasnyy snezhnyy bars= my beautiful snow leopard)

She sighed contently, enjoying this rare moment, her hand playing with his fluffy hair as he littered her neck in all the attention.

Neither of them were sleepy and probably their minds were clouded with tons of questions and wonders.

#Xaviera Lah-Mo #Andrei Kulokova #Andrei Kulokova x Xaviera Lah-Mo #Andrei x xaviera #Slasher oc #Killer OCs #Original characters #story Time

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