#ash’s lines were so good i actually held my breath the whole scene

[wrenhyperfixates]

If It’s Meant to Be

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: After you breakup, Loki regrets how he pushed you away. He can only hope that you’ll come back to him. Warnings: lots of angst and some fluff at the end A/N: Requested by the lovely @gaitwae​. Hope you enjoy!

Tag List: @lucywrites02​ @frostedgiant​​​ @lunarmoon8​​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​​ @lokistan​​ @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs​​ @gaitwae​​ @whatafuckingdumbass​​ @castiels-majestic-wings​​ @kozkaboi​​ @cozy-the-overlord​​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine.

It happened on a sunny day that Loki found out you’d moved on and started seeing someone else. It didn’t feel right that the world should be lit up by the golden rays when there was such a storm inside him. He tried his best to push his thoughts aside, he really did, but you kept popping into his mind. You and that boorish new boyfriend of yours. Loki didn’t know the man, but he already hated him. In reality, he hated himself far more for letting you go.

Loki had blocked most of the events leading to your breakup from his mind, but on the floor among the glass he’d shattered, it was coming back to him. He hadn’t even meant to break anything, not exactly. It was just that he was so angry, he wasn’t looking where he was going. Then the god bumped into the end table and, in a fit of rage, flipped it over. He hadn’t been thinking about the vase sitting on top of it. Or what was in it for that matter. Otherwise he may have been more careful as not to end up sitting among shards and your favorite flowers.

Back when you were dating, he had gotten nervous that he was no good for you. You had always been so understanding of his feelings, but it was different this time. He hadn’t told you how he felt, so you couldn’t help him through it. Instead, he started going on more missions, sometimes not even telling you. It hurt him when you confronted him on that.

“You’re just up and leaving without so much as a goodbye,” you said with teary eyes. “I keep finding out from Tony that you’re gone again. Is it something I did? I’m just... I’m just worried about you, Loki.”

He held you closer that day than he had in months. “I am so sorry, darling, please believe me. I will tell you from now on, you have my word.” He kissed the top of your head and rocked you back and forth. You buried your head in the crook of his neck and cried a little. “You also must know that this is not your fault. I swear it on my life, it is not because of anything you did. I love you, my darling, truly I do.”

“Then what is it, Loki?” you asked, raising your head and lifting your hand to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch. “What’s wrong? You used to tell me these things. You know you can still talk to me about anything, right? I’m still here for you.”

“I know. I just... It feels like something I need to work through myself.”

“I understand. Just, I’m still here, ok? We don’t have to talk, even. I could just hold you.” You paused, looking into his eyes. You saw it in that moment, his heart fracturing. “You know, like you used to let me.”

You were too pure for him, he knew it. He knew it as you spoke those words. He knew it as he let you hold him, the vile, venomous snake that he was. And you did it gently, so gently. Somehow he was still breaking. Loki kept himself together as much as he could manage, started telling you when he was leaving, though the missions only became more frequent. And longer, too. For your part, you held on as long as you could, were there for him as much as you could be. But it was too hard when he kept distancing himself from you.

“Listen, Loki,” you calmly said one night after he returned to the Tower, as tired and removed as ever. “I love you. I love you so much. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t be in a relationship with you if that’s not what you want. And it seems like you don’t want it anymore. Your gone so much, and when you’re here, you’re so far away that you may as well have not come back. Just talk to me,” you pleaded. “I want to this fix this. Just talk to me.”

“I am sorry, darling. I can’t. I- I just don’t want to ruin you,” he replied, head bowed.

You took a deep breath, trying to quell your tears. Loki winced as your voice broke. “Then I’m sorry too, but I have to go. I wish you all the best, my love.”

For one final time, you kissed him. It was slow, it was gentle and tender. It was a goodbye. Still, you looked over your shoulder before you closed the door, silently praying for him to say something, anything, to stop you. He didn’t move, and so the door clicked behind you as he let the best thing to ever happen to him walk out of his life.

What was it that you Midgardians say? If you love someone, let them go. If it’s meant to be, they’ll come back to you. Well, Loki decided that was a load of rubbish. Because you most clearly were meant to be. Maybe the first part had some merit to it, though; he let you go because he loved you and couldn’t bear to let you chain yourself to a monster. He couldn’t help but wonder if he actually was one though, for surely monsters didn’t have hearts. But him? He knew he had one because he could feel it breaking.

After that day, Loki tried to hold on to the fragments of himself as he felt he was drifting off into space. He didn’t slow his pace on the missions, now a distraction to numb his pain.  Then one day, Tony made him take a break. He spent nearly a month moving around the Tower like a wraith, void of any outer expressions. Avoiding the lower floors at all costs, he mainly stuck to the private sections where he and the other Avengers lived. It was a precaution to keep himself from bumping into you, who worked in the Tower.

Two months later, he felt well enough to go outside again. He took the stairs down with Thor on one of the days he knew you wouldn’t be in. His brother looked afraid that he might turn to ash by stepping out into the sun for the first time in a while. Needless to say, he didn’t, but Thor kept throwing him worried glances as they went on their run.

From there, Loki took things one day at a time. He still thought about you often. About three months after the breakup, he started visiting the floor where you worked, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Maybe if he saw you, he’d even get the courage to apologize. Then again, maybe it’s better if he just leaves you be.

He still hadn’t decided which was better when he got too careless one day, and you caught sight of him. He heard you say “excuse me” to whoever you were talking to before taking off in the direction where he was. Panicking, he fled the scene, but you still followed. At the end of the hall, he turned. But by the time you rounded the corner after him, he was already gone, having teleported back to his quarters.

Now he wonders what you would have said to him. Alas, he stopped seeking you out, so he’d never know. Plus, Tony was finally letting him volunteer for missions again, so he could fill his time that way. Even that began to hurt, though, as he realized he used to have your warm embrace to return to. These days, he went home to a cold, empty room. He’d lay on his bed and create small illusions of his memories with you until he realized it was doing his mental health more harm than good. Wasn’t that what had gotten him into this mess in the first place? His mental health? So, he sat up and stretched out, finally deciding to drag himself out of this slump he was in.

If there was one silver lining to come out of this, it was that his teammates actually became his friends. He wasn’t sure exactly when he began to think of them as such, but he did. It was in no small part due to the increased amount of time he was spending with them in your absence. You would have been proud of him if you knew. You’d always encouraged him to get to know them better, to not be such a loner. Satisfied with having you and his brother, he never did much listen to you on that matter. Well, now he was being forced out of his comfort zone. After all, he could only handle his brother in small doses, and he was all Loki had now.

Five months had passed since you’d left Loki, since he’d pushed you away. After weeks of trying, Loki’s friends had finally coaxed him into attending Tony’s latest party. So, he appeared in a full suit and tie with his fellow Avengers. Rather begrudgingly, he was enjoying himself.

He was laughing by the bar with Wanda and Bucky when he saw you. Despite trying not to look your way again, he failed and kept stealing glances at you. Eventually, he caught your eye, and you gave a shy little wave. He returned it along with an small but excited smile. Just as he was about to take his first step towards you, a man he didn’t recognize came up next to you. The stranger put his arm around you and handed you a drink. And then you kissed him, shattering Loki’s heart all over again. By the time you looked back over, the trickster god was gone.

Storming down to the ground level of the Tower, he pushed through the door and out into the world, desperate for fresh air. Suddenly feeling like he was being choked, he loosened his tie from around his neck before taking it off completely. It was too bright out, the sunlight blinding his eyes as he walked without direction. Just away, far away. He walked until the sun rose again the next day, the same thoughts circling in his mind the whole time. This was his fault. He’d let you go. He’d pushed you away. There was no one to blame but himself.

Loki slept all the next day, worn from his mindless wandering. It was like all the progress he’d made over the last several months were drained from his body. Still, he tried to carry on with his normal routine, and went for his morning run with Thor. Sometimes Steve and Sam joined them, too, but they were both on a mission at the moment. It was a good thing, too, because Loki didn’t think he could handle the embarrassment of the double take he did had they been there. Just as he and his brother were exiting, the man he could only presume to be your boyfriend entered. But you weren’t working that day, and sure enough, he swiped in with his own card. Now not only would Loki have to avoid you, he’d have to avoid your boyfriend, too, lest seeing his face threw him in a blind, vengeful rage.

Four more months passed, and Loki was doing an excellent job of not seeing you or Owen, which he later found out was your boyfriend’s name. And yet, he longed for you. Your gentle touch. Your kind words. The Avengers kept pushing for him to start seeing someone else, but he still didn’t feel ready, leaving him to pine for you from afar.

Loki walked into the elevator after quickly dropping off a file on the floor you worked on. Thankfully, he managed to avoid seeing you. As the doors began to close, he heard a voice asking him to keep them open. He obliged while the person quickly rushed over, the large stack of papers they carried covering their face.

“Thank you,” they said, struggling with the unwieldy stack, voice slightly strained as they desperately tried to keep from dropping it.

“It is no problem. What floor?” Loki responded, hitting the button that corresponded with their answer. “Would you like some help with that?”

“I’m fine. I-”

Loki caught the falling stack with impressive reflexes as the person cut out and dropped it. He looked at their now exposed face. It was you. Neither of you said anything for a moment as you both somewhat awkwardly balanced the papers between you.

“Oh! Hi, Loki. I, um,” you cleared your throat, “I guess I could use some help.”

“Yes. Very well, then,” he said, taking slightly more than half the stack. It was oppressively silent for another moment as you both stared at the numbers denoting what floor you were on dropping far too slowly for your liking. Loki swore the elevator had never been this slow before. “So, uh, how have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been fine,” you replied, diverting your gaze for a minute. “You know, same as usual. How about you?”

“Fine, fine. Same as always, really.” Another awkward silence. “I heard you were seeing someone. How is he doing, your boyfriend?”

“Do you mean Owen? We actually broke up a few weeks ago.”

“I am sorry,” Loki apologized. “I did not know.”

“It’s totally fine,” you laughed it off in a way that was music to his ears. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”

As the doors opened and you deposited the papers where you needed to, Loki couldn’t help but think of that Midgardian phrase again. He’d loved you, and he’d let you go, completing the first part. Well, maybe it was time to make good on the second.

“I do not suppose,” he began, “that you would like to go out for a coffee sometime? Just to catch up, is all.”

You smiled at him softly. “I would love that.”

After setting your plans, you parted ways. Loki felt happier than he had in a long time. After all, you’d come back to him, even if it was just as friends for the moment. But he was certain it would turn into something more, sooner or later. Why? Because deep in his heart, he was sure he’d always known it. You were meant to be.

[unbridgeabledistances]

Prompt: mickey is walking with Franny when Terry shows up. Mickey protects Franny. Franny runs home where ian and family are and shouts that a man is hurting uncle mickey. Basically hurt mickey, protective ian. Ian conforting Mickey afterwards!

anon this is so GOOD !!! i LOVE some mickey & franny content, plus gallavich comfort :’) this is somewhat intense and got way too long lol, but the whole thing was so fun to write and i hope u enjoy <3

also my asks are open for more prompts! (since i am on winter break & bored out of my mind lol)

& ofc, tw for homophobia and physical violence

--

“C’mon kiddo! Bet you can’t catch me!”

“Yes, Uncle Mickey, yes I can!”

The sun was beating down onto the slushy pavement of the South Side, reflecting off the gritty late-winter snow that remained on the sides of the road and nearly blinding Mickey as he tried to lightly jog down the slippery sidewalk, just outside of Franny’s reach. Franny, who was a tottering bundle in her thick winter coat, a scratchy-looking red woolen scarf Tami had given her for Christmas, and a pink sparkly winter hat Debbie had forced over her ears before Mickey took her outside to play, was running as fast as she could to stay on Mickey’s heels.

Mickey hadn’t meant to take Franny as far away from the Gallagher house, into the winding South Side neighborhoods, as he had—Debbie was having some sort of meltdown about her business going to shit after a situation with organic snacks and climbing out a window (Mickey wasn’t even going to ask)—and sensing tensions were high, Mickey had pulled Franny out the back door to run around and play “gangsters,” her new favorite game, with the toy guns he’d gotten her for Christmas. They were going to stick to playing in the backyard, mostly because it was fucking freezing and almost dark outside, until Franny was about to encroach on Mickey’s fictional gang’s territory under the porch stairs, and of course Mickey couldn’t have that—so now they were racing through the streets, with Franny giggling and practically tripping over her own clunky winter boots every few steps.

“Is that all you’ve got, Wonder Woman? Come and get me!” Mickey called to Franny over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna get you! I will, Uncle Mickey!”

Mickey chuckled as he kept running, and felt his heart soften. As shitty as he’d always been with kids, and how often he always froze in panic anytime he’d had to take care of Yev back in the day, he had to admit that goofing around with Franny was pretty fucking fun.

And that also just made him depressed, because he knew that she was going to grow up surrounded by all of this bullshit—the dysfunctional family, Frank’s shenanigans, the drugs and beat downs, the mom with an ankle bracelet. Right now, Franny was just a kid—the neighborhood hadn’t taken its toll on her yet.

Luckily, Mickey didn’t have shit to do all day—he barely had a job aside from security for Kev and V’s practically non-existent pot side business, so he had plenty of time to play with Franny. If he could do anything with his life right now, he could make sure that Franny had some happy memories to cut through all the bullshit life was inevitably about to throw to her.

Mickey continued to run, lost in thought, until Franny caught up to him and sharply tugged on the back of his coat.

“I win, Uncle Mickey, I win! Now I’m gonna blow your face off!” Franny said with a playful scowl as she held up her toy gun.

Mickey chuckled and put his hands up in the air in resignation, turning to face Franny. “Alright, kid, you got me. Nice work.”

He held his hand out for Franny to high-five, which she gave willingly before pulling off her sparkly pink hat and throwing it on the ground.

“I’m too hot. Uncle Mickey, can we go home now? I think I know the way back.”

Mickey ruffled her hair. “Sounds good, kiddo. Lead the way.”

Just as they were about to start walking in the direction of the Gallagher house, a gruff voice came from behind them, mingling with the blowing wind.

“Mickey?”

Oh fuck.

Mickey turned around slowly, giving a quick mental prayer to whatever god that existed, if god even did fucking exist, that the voice he heard wasn’t the one he thought he had.

In the end, it was as bad as his worst nightmare.

Terry stood six feet in front of him on the ice-caked sidewalk, a lit cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth (just like it always was), his hands visibly curled into fists by his sides. Mickey took in a sharp breath, and tried to quell the wave of panic overtaking him. Calm the fuck down. Mickey tried to remember the checklist of what he always had to do when he saw his dad, a survival tactic he hadn’t had to think about for months: Keep your eyes down. See if you can smell alcohol. Look at his waistline and see if he has a gun.

Mickey’s eyes flickered to Terry’s pockets. No gun, thank fucking god. He slowly reached out behind him to take Franny’s tiny gloved hand, mentally cursing himself for letting them walk this far from home. Then he looked Terry in the eyes and swallowed. You can do this.

“Hiya, pops. What’re you doing over here on this beautiful Tuesday afternoon?”

Terry’s eyes narrowed, his stance still aggressive, but he remained rooted a safe distance away. “Don’t make fucking small talk with me, fairy boy.” He paused and took a drag of his cigarette. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you around here.”

“Well, I guess today’s your lucky day. About time for a family reunion.”

Terry gave a bitter, menacing chuckle that sent a shiver of remembrance down Mickey’s spine. “Who’s the kid?”

“Uh. It’s Debbie’s kid.” My niece, he bit back. My husband’s sister’s daughter.

Franny looked up at Mickey, not in confusion but in wide-eyed understanding. Franny was only five, sure, but she wasn’t stupid; she’d seen her fair share of violent shit go down on the street in front of her, and she knew what aggression looked like—what it looked like when someone was about to attack. Mickey looked back at her, and ever-so-slightly raised his eyebrows in what he hoped was a warning. Get ready to run, kid.

“Huh.” Terry threw his cigarette butt on the ground, slowly grinding the ash into the slush with the toe of his shoe. “Funny that you’re out here with her, all on your own. No one else on the street, not for blocks.”

Mickey exhaled, attempting to still his racing heart. On a different day, when he wasn’t so caught off guard by Terry’s presence, he would have ended this here and now; pulled a gun and put a bullet right through his father’s homophobic skull. But Terry was right—there was no one outside for miles, no one stirring behind the curtains of the houses lining the streets, no one to call for help if Terry physically overpowered him and kicked the life out of him. And Franny was still holding his hand.

“Yeah, well. We’re just goin’ for a walk. And we’re gonna head back now, if you’re… done.”

Terry held Mickey’s gaze, unblinking. When he spoke, his voice was low and ice cold. “When the fuck was I ever done with you?”

It all happened in an instant, but also in terrifyingly smooth slow motion—Terry charged at Mickey, fists raised, skidding across the ice in a blur.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, you deformed excuse for a Milkovich!”

Terry was seething with the same fiery anger as when he flipped the table at Yevgeny’s christening, the night he found out that Mickey was gay—as he raced across the pavement, all Mickey could do was think about how to get Franny out of here before his father’s fist connected with his face. He gently shoved Franny behind him towards the sidewalk leading to the Gallagher house.

“Go, Franny, go!” He choked out, before Terry thrust a punch to his stomach and Mickey doubled over, kneeling on the damp sidewalk.

Terry’s shadow hovered over Mickey, and he knelt down, grabbing the hair at the scruff of Mickey’s neck. Mickey could smell his breath, all stale cigarettes and burnt coffee, like it had been for the past thirty years of his life.

“Been waiting a long time for this,” Terry said through his teeth. Mickey gathered every ounce of strength that he could— thank you, Kev Fit membership— and crashed his own head into his father’s, toppling him over and pinning him down. He quickly glanced over his shoulder, and saw Franny’s bootprints leading down the street, saw a flash of a red scarf turning the final corner a few blocks down. Thank god.

Terry squirmed under Mickey’s iron grip on his wrists. “Get off me, assfucker!”

“Sorry, Dad, no can do.” Mickey could almost grin. All he had to do was knock his dad out cold, and this whole thing could be over—

Out of nowhere Terry’s right arm broke free, striking Mickey’s side and toppling him onto the pavement.

“I’ve got you now,” Terry drawled, and that was the last thing Mickey heard before Terry’s boot stuck into his side and he saw stars.

**

The sun had almost set beneath the clouds, casting a warm glow through the front windows of the Gallagher house. Ian and Carl sat in the living room, engaged in particularly immersive debate about the accuracy of cop drama TV shows in an attempt to drown out Debbie’s continued melodrama of reading her bad Yelp reviews.

“Nah, man, I’m telling you, there’s no way an EMT would actually get to the scene that quickly anyways—"

There was a soft series of frantic knocks at the front door, so gentle Ian barely would have heard it if the TV volume wasn’t turned to a low hum. Ian sprang up and swung the front door open to… Franny?

A tear-stained, snow-soaked Franny, with matted hair and a scarf hanging half off her neck.

“Uncle Ian! Uncle Ian, we have to go help Uncle Mickey!”

What the fuck?

“Franny, what’s the matter?” Ian tried to gently guide her inside out of the cold, but Franny stomped her boots and shoved Ian’s hand away.

“We have to go now Uncle Ian! A man is hitting Uncle Mickey! We have to go quick!”

Ian froze. Shit. There were plenty of people who wanted an excuse to beat the crap out of Mickey, most of whom Mickey could take— but regardless, Ian didn’t want anyone fucking up Mickey’s parole.

“Oh, shit. Okay. Franny, can you take me to Uncle Mickey?”

Franny fervently nodded. “He’s up the street. I was chasing him when we were playing.”

Ian turned to call over his shoulder. “Hey, can anyone help me back Mickey up in a fight with some dude?”

Carl put his hands up in resignation. “Don’t look at me, man. I should be a mile away from any instance of Mickey breaking his parole.”

Sandy darted into the living room, from the kitchen where she had been consoling Debbie. “Mickey’s in a fight?”

“Apparently. He was playing with Franny down the road and now Franny’s back here.”

Sandy looked at the disheveled Franny standing in the doorway. “Shit. I’ll grab my shoes.”

“Uncle Ian, we have to go now!”

“Okay, we’re coming Franny. Lead the way.”

**

Franny guided them down the sidewalk, the three of them casting dark shadows onto the roadside piles of snow as the sun disappeared beneath the clouds. “This way!”

Ian didn’t really know what he was expecting to see as they turned the final corner, the street almost totally enveloped in darkness— maybe Mickey pinning some guy up against a wall, or in the back of a cop car. But he was certainly not prepared to see Mickey as a static heap sprawled on the sidewalk, while the unmistakable figure of Terry Milkovich stood above him, pummeling Ian’s husband.

Sandy noticed Terry’s presence before Ian could even react to what was going on. “Uh, Franny, hey, can you walk back to the house please?”

Before he knew what he was doing, Ian’s feet were sprinting down the street. “Terry! Get the FUCK off of him!”

Ian could barely register his body’s movements as he smashed his fist into Terry’s nose and tackled him to the ground. Terry spit in Ian’s face. “Fucking Gallagher!”

Ian hit Terry once again, keeping him pinned down. He struck him over and over, not stopping to process if he was even moving, or breathing, or fighting back.

“Hey! Everyone calm the fuck down!”

Ian looked up over his shoulder—Sandy was standing above them, pointing a gun directly at Terry, whose face was now bashed and bloody.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, my dear Uncle Terry,” Sandy said in a sickly-sweet voice that didn’t match her iron gaze. “Ian’s going to get off of you, and you’re going to stand up and walk down the street back to your shithole house. And you’re going to watch your fucking back, because you never know when I could decide to come home one night while you’re asleep and make you regret everything you did this evening. Are we clear?”

Terry’s eyes narrowed, panting as he stayed pinned beneath Ian. “Those Gallagher queers got you too, huh?”

Sandy cocked the gun even more aggressively in Terrys direction, her thumb teasing the safety.

“That’s not how it works, dumbass. Unlike some pieces of garbage in this neighborhood, the Gallagher family actually cares about each other. Now—are we clear?”

Terry scowled at Ian, and gave a curt nod. “Get the fuck off me, fag.”

Ian didn’t budge. “Sandy, no,” Ian snarled.

“Ian, we’ll deal with him later.”

Ian looked up at Sandy, who met his eyes with an expectant gaze, still holding the gun directly at Terry. It took every ounce of strength Ian had to kneel and rise from the ground—it would be so easy to knock Terry out, to tell Sandy to pull to trigger, to put all the pain he’d caused behind them. To finally feel safe.

Terry immediately stood, and looked at Mickey on the ground, practically unconscious and his blood mingling with the snow. Terry opened his mouth to say some final retort— but Sandy clicked off the safety of the gun, steadily pointing it in his direction, and Terry promptly closed his mouth again. He turned and walked away.

Ian was immediately at Mickey’s side. “Fuck, Mickey, fuck.” Ian choked out. “Hey, look at me.”

Mickey had definitely hit his head, hard—there was a gash on his forehead dripping blood down his face, just like the night of Yevgeny’s christening when they’d watched Terry be forced into the back of a cop car. He looked up at Ian, his eyes drifting in and out of focus. Ian quickly scanned the rest of Mickey’s body—aside from a few solid kicks to the ribs, his head injury seemed to be the only major issue. Ian gently ran a hand through his hair.

“Mickey, hey, can you stand up? We’ve gotta get you home.”

First, get Mickey home— only then could Ian actually let himself process everything that had happened, and swallow down the bile rising from his stomach. First, Mickey had to be safe.

Sandy leaned over next to Ian. “Do you think we’re gonna have to carry him?”

“Uh, yeah I think so. Can you grab his legs?”

**

Mickey forced his heavy eyelids open, hazy and disoriented. He blinked, trying to clear the sleep out of his eyes. The blurry outlines of he and Ian’s bedroom, cloaked in darkness, slowly came into focus. He could feel the scratchy crocheted blanket on top of him, but aside from that his limbs were so heavy and numb he could barely move. A dull pain throbbed in the back of his head. Fuck.

“You awake?”

Ian was curled next to him in bed, not touching any part of Mickey’s aching body but leaning in close, nearly a centimeter away. Ian’s hand reached up and gently wiped a damp piece of hair off of Mickey’s forehead. Mickey winced.

“Sorry. How d’you feel?”

“I’ve definitely felt better,” Mickey croaked. “What time is it?”

“Almost 1 a.m. You’ve been out for a few hours,” Ian replied in a low voice.

“Shit.” Mickey closed his eyes. They were silent in the darkness for a few moments, but Mickey could feel Ian’s eyes on him. “My head fuckin’ hurts. What’s your prognosis, doc?”

“You definitely have a concussion. It probably won’t be a big deal in a week or two. You don’t need stitches or anything, though. And I did some EMT magic on your ribs, which mostly just means I put ice on them while you were sleeping.”

Mickey smirked, his eyes still closed—partially from the headache, but partially because he didn’t want to look Ian in the eyes yet. “Franny okay?”

“Yeah, she’s all good.”

“And, uh. Terry?”

He could feel Ian stiffen beside him. “Probably at home, being the same lowlife asshole he always has been. Sandy pulled a gun on him.”

Mickey opened his eyes, and could see through the darkness that Ian’s own eyes looked puffy and worn. It killed him to see Ian suffering, once again, because of him— it felt like they were always battling something at every turn, sure, but in Mickey’s case, it was almost always Terry they were fighting against.

“Fuck. When I’m less tired, and my body feels less like shit, remind me to go kill him, yeah?”

Ian laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I almost tried that tactic myself. I think Sandy scared the shit out of him, though. We’ll figure out what to do if he… acts up again.”

Mickey knew it was a lot more complicated than that, and that in the morning he would probably be seething and grabbing his guns and marching down to Terry’s house with fire in his eyes, but they didn’t need to dwell on that right now. Right now it was quiet, and Ian’s body was pressed against his, and Mickey was wrapped in a warm blanket in a bed with his husband. They were safe.

“I’ve thought I’d lost you thousands of times, Mick, but tonight really scared me” Ian softly whispered, cutting through the silence. “I thought… I don’t know, when I saw you on the sidewalk, I thought after all the shit your dad has said, I might’ve been too late.”

Mickey took a sharp breath in, making his ribs sting, while Ian kept talking.

“When you were in jail, or in Mexico, I knew you were always out there, and I guess knowing that always kept me going. But knowing I could have lost you again tonight—I don’t know, it scared the shit out of me,” Ian said, his voice breaking.

Mickey mustered all the strength he had, and slightly shifted his weight onto his left side to face Ian, whose eyes were glassy. Beneath all of Ian’s macho shit the past few weeks, it was so easy to look at him and forget that he was still also that tired, scared kid from the South Side that Mickey met ten years ago, one who didn’t know if good things could be permanent or if other people could stick around. Mickey put his hand up to Ian’s face, running his thumb up and down his cheekbone.

“Hey. C’mere.”

Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey—gently at first, like he was gliding his fingers over something precious, and then fully wrapping his arms around him, and burying his face in the hair on top of Mickey’s head. Mickey could feel Ian’s heartbeat through his thin t-shirt, feel the warmth radiating off of his biceps that encircled him. Ian pressed a kiss to the top of Mickey’s head, where his forehead met his hairline.

“I’m here, Gallagher,” Mickey whispered into Ian’s skin. “I’m not going anywhere. No one’s gonna change that shit.”

[elles-writing]

Love Potion - Kili x fem!reader  - Day 1/13

Love potion

Pairing: Kili x reader

Warnings/triggers: Kili’s puppy eyes, mentions of Fili’s and Kili’s cooking/baking

Genre: fluff

Word: Potion - Day 1/13

Word count: 2066

A/N: First piece to 13 days of spooky writing event by @dumbassunderthemountain !! I lately felt unconfident about my writing, so I’ve decided to put on some up-beat music, different attitude and some schedule and this event came really handy! I hope this will make you feel cozy like it made me while I was writing it!

Tags: @dumbassunderthemountain @moony-artnstuff​ @artsywaterlily @trxblemaker @luna-xial

Message me if you want to be added/removed to taglist!

Celebrating Durin’s Day was always an event. Not just an event – through every celebration in Erebor was a huge thing so far – but it was the event of the year. The dwarves spended months of preparations just for this celebration, but they didn’t seemed to be too bothered by it. No. They were excited. Excited to celebrate, especially when The Lonely Mountain was reclaimed back and the Durin’s line survived the battle of five armies.

Thorin was a great king, there was no doubt about it. It was a two years of time since Erebor was reclaimed back, and even if nobody from the Company didn’t insisted you to stay, you deep down knew they did it just so you wouldn’t feel pressured and were ovejoyed when you said you’ll stay with them. Why would you say no, anyways? They became a close family to you through the quest.

After the battle, when a part of dwarves arrived, Fili and Kili got a stunning idea – that you’d meet their mother, Dis. You’ve heard about her from stories they told you and you were nervous that she won’t like you, but oh boy, you were proved wrong! You two became a good friends, you were even something like a daughter to her.

Especially when Fili or Kili (or both of them) would prank you, she was unstoppable. In those moments you realized that they didn’t lied when talked that she made sure they’d apologize. Properly.

It was a two days until Durin’s Day and you were in the kitchens. It was late afternoon and the cooks got their work quickly done, thanks to some cooks from Dale, who helped them out. Now, you were making an apple pie, chatting with Dis and wondering when will Fili and Kili show up. They didn’t got too many duties today, thanks to Thorin, who was busy by some last details about the celebration, so they were free by noon.

Soft golden light was creeping inside, and if you would look out from the windows, you’d see trees with leaves coloured in many different shades from yellow, orange and red, to brown. The whole Erebor now smelled like old leaves, warm spices, tea, apples and pears, in addition to usual smell that has been there. It created nice mix and it made you to feel warm and safe.

You huffed and placed your flour-covered hands on your hips, frowning down on the pie. Dis noticed your intense stare and followed your gaze.

„It looks very nice, dear. Don’t feel discouraged, I’m sure it will be much better than last year.“ You both giggled.

Last year was Bombur and Bilbo teaching you and the Durin’s brothers to bake pies and pasteries with apples, because there was a lot of them. Also as a punishment, when they wanted to prank Bofur and didn’t counted on Thorin and Dain walking right into it, instead of Bofur. You didn’t did it with them, of course, you just wanted to learn how to bake.

Long story short, it was the last time everyone have seen Kili and Fili to cook, as far as you knew. To bake, too. Because as much as they could fight and throw pranks, that much they couldn’t cook, and accidently, their and your pie ended up as a pile of ashes.

But now, neither of them were here.

And despite that cooking lesson, you were getting worried.

You looked at your pie again and sighed.

„Alright, I’ll let it be like this. Let’s hope it won’t end up burned.“ You both chuckled again.

Once the pie was baking, you sat down to Dis and started sipping on your cold tea. But it didn’t took too long, when you’ve heard familiar pair of steps and voices in quiet argument.

When they entered the kitchen, you’ve took a look who it was. Fili and Thorin, Thorin nodding at his sister and you and then walking away. Fili just sighed and sat down to you.

„Bilbo haven’t arrived yet and it’s making Thorin worried,“ Fili said and you nodded. You knew that Bilbo had a special place in everybody’s, especially Thorin’s heart. They usually wrote letters to each other. Bilbo has always made it in time to be there for Durin’s Day, and you didn’t doubted the halfling was alright. This year was more rainy than the year before and you truly believed he just needed more stops and wait until the rain didn’t stopped, so he could continue his path here.

You reached out and patted his shoulder.

„I believe that Bilbo is okay. He will come, I’m sure of it.“ You smiled at him and he nodded.

„You’re perhaps right, Y/N. Wait,“ He frowned and looked at you properly, from head to toe. Then, his face brightened.

„You were baking?“ You scoffed and rolled your eyes with a smile.

„Yes, I did. I’ve got a sweet tooth for something before the celebration.“ You’ve seen Fili’s eyes to sparkle in mischieve. But it wasn’t Fili who spoke up.

„Really? I believe you’re already sweeter than honey, sweetheart. Do I smell a pie?“ You turned to him and noticed his sparkling eyes. He winked at you and your cheeks reddened like autumn apples.

„And I believe I’m smelling and seeing a mud.“ Dis said, looking at her son. It was actually true – Kili’s hair was a mess, there were leaves of many different colours and twiggs in it, his clothes were wrinkled and he had dirt and mud on his clothes and in his hair, too. It was a miracle his face was almost clean.

„What you were doing, Kee?“ You asked him. He usually wasn’t this dirty. He grinned.

„I was showing some children from Dale around the fruit garden.“ Dis raised an eyebrow.

„Okay, I was playing with them here, too. But it was fun!“ You and Fili were chuckling. You knew that Kili would do it anyways – it was usually you three who would be jumping to piles of leaves, climbing up the trees and having a fight with mud, but today you spended in library and here in the kitchens.

Dis shot Kili a look and he sighed and rose his hands in defeat.

„What? It was fun! And besides,“ he grinned,

„nobody was injured.“ You all knew this counted. Before anyone could get Dis‘ reaction, a servant came in and said that Thorin sended for her. You thought that maybe Bilbo arrived.

When Dis left, you got up to check on the pie. Kili started picking leaves from his hair. Fili was looking from you to his brother, seeing how painfully obvious it was by the glances you threw each other when the other wasn’t looking, since the beginning of the quest, that you‘ve fancied each other.

For the last two years, Kili was flirting with you more and calling you only by nice and sweet nicknames, but you knew Kili was flirty like this, so it wasn’t anything too unusual. He looked like a flustrated puppy with pouting face, whenever you shook it off and wasn’t looking.

„It’s done,“ You said and took the pie out.

„It’s great you can bake,“ Fili said, looking down at the pie.

„It’s not that hard. You just need to follow the instructions.“ You three chuckled, knowing damn well that Fili and Kili and instructions or rules weren’t really too friendly.

„I’m hungry, can I take a bite, sweetie?“ Kili’s pleading chocolate eyes were set on you, looking like a puppy. Your heart melted, but you knew the pie was too hot to be eaten.

You placed your hands on your hips, looking at the brothers, mischievous smile spreading on your face.

„I’ll give you a piece, but you will have to wash yourself first.“ Kili pouted and bitten his lip slightly.

„It’s not fair that Fili will get the first one.“ You smirked.

„Who said Fili’s gonna get the first piece?“

„Hey!“ You all chuckled.

„I mean it, go wash yourself, Kee. Besides, it’s still too hot, it needs to cool down.“ Kili’s puppy eyes looked deep into your e/c  eyes again, only to realize you truly meant it. So when he stood between the doors, he winked at you.

„It’s not hot in comparison with you, my dear.“ And he left. Your yaw fell down and he let your cheeks flushed. Fili have seen the whole scene and smirked.

„It almost looks like he drank some love potion back in Bag-End and so did you, doesn’t it?“ You looked down to your feet, smiling to yourself.

„I think the red wine did it.“

„Aye, of course lass.“

When Kili came back with wet hair and clean clothes, you chuckled and pointed to his piece of pie.

„There you go,“ You said with a smirk to cover your nervousness. Fili almost rolled his eyes. Into a different dimension.

„Just say it already!“ He said, flustrated. You looked at Kili, who paled a bit, but then his face flushed.

„Oh yeah, I, uhm like you a lot, sweetheart.“ He looked like a flustrated puppy, and soft giggle escaped to your mouth. His own lips spreaded into cheeky smirk, like he usually worn.

„I-will you to court me?“ He looked at you with wide, nervous eyes. You held your breath and could not believe his words. He was asking you if you wanted to court him.

When you realized he was waiting for your response, you quickly nodded.

„Y-yes, o-of course I want to court you, Kili.“ You smiled and his eyes lighted up.

„Mahal, she said yes! Fili, did you heard that?! She said yes!“ And in a second, he was kissing your whole face. You were giggling when his hair touched your face.

„Kili, it tickles,“

„Fili, Kili, what’s all this about-“ Thorin came in. You three turned to him, seeing there was also Bilbo and rest of the Company, plus Dis. Bilbo seemed uncomfortable for a second, but then he smiled, as well as most of the Company. Dis‘ smile was the proudest, but it was hard to say. They were all happy and proud that you two stopped dancing around each other

„U-uncle,“ Kili looked at him.

„Well, I would like to announce, that me and Y/N are courting.“ He looked at you and you nodded. Dis placed her hands on her hips.

„When did you planned on telling us, you two?“ You looked at Fili and Kili.

„Well, it’s been just a while since we’re courting.“ Dis peeked to her second son, and Fili only grinned.

„Aye, but what does it matter? They’re the most perfect couple in the whole Middle-Earth!“ The rest of the dwarves cheered and Thorin’s face had warm smile, that one you’ve been seeing for past two years much more, since Erebor was reclaimed.

You noticed a tall figure and when you’ve seen a long grey robe, you were sure who it was.

„Gandalf! You arrived, too!“ He smiled at you and Kili.

„Indeed, I arrived with Bilbo. And as I can see, it was in time.“ you smiled.

„Oh yes, indeed.“ You looked at Kili. Then you rembered.

„Actually, I baked an apple pie today, can I offer you a piece?“  You offered to him and he nodded.

„It’s nice from you, miss Y/N.“

„Wait, you baked a pie, lass?“ Bofur came to take a look.

„It’s not a pile of ashes?“ Dwalin said and shot a look to Kili and Fili. You laughed.

„No, now sit down, or I’m not going to give you anything! I mean all of you!“

You didn’t noticed Bilbo was making a tea. You realized that when he handed you a cup and whispered.

„It’s called Love Potion, but it’s actually a mix of warm spices and some sweet fruits. I also know about that wine you and Kili tasted in Bag-End,“ He gave you a bit mischievous smile and shook your head.

„I believe that Fili told you, if I’m not mistaken?“

„Well, yes. He also told me to bring this mix for you as a gift for your birthday, when I was there only last year.“ he said. You smiled and looked over at Kili.

„You sure it was just a wine, Bilbo?“ He raised a brow.

„What else would it be? I’m not a wizard.“

„But surely you know one.“ He smiled.

„Fair enough.“

[blue-lions-baby]

Operation Confession (Dimitri x Reader) [Ch. 1]

hi!! so sorry for the inactivity! i’ve been super busy preparing for college n stuff, so i didn’t really have time to write anything... but like i also didn’t want to go *another* week of not posting anything so lol

i’ve been working on this fic for almost a month now and as i was approaching the 5000 words mark, i figured it would probably be best to chop it up into more.... manageable sections ^^’ please enjoy~

spoiler-free and pre-timeskip fluff!

~*~

Oh, this was perfect.

Sylvain watched in pure amusement at the scene playing out before his very eyes. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, future king of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, reduced to nothing more than a blushing schoolboy antsy with the love bugs and raging hormones. He weakly disguised his chuckle with a cough when he saw yet another quill snap in the blonde’s hand, most likely in reaction to that adorable pouting face you had put up. You had absolutely no idea what type of effect and the severity of said effect you had on the prince.

Which made it all the more entertaining.

You didn’t mean to-- in fact, you weren’t even aware of the raging feelings Dimitri held towards you.

But Sylvain knew.

And you could bet your ass he was gonna do everything in his power to help his longtime friend man up and confess to the girl of his dreams.

Dimitri’s cheeks, once dusted with only a faint pink, suddenly became a hodgepodge of every shade of red when he realized that was the third quill he broke in this hour alone. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, helplessly looking to his teacher for help.

“Your Highness... Have you broken another quill?” Dedue murmured beside him, concern eminent in his voice. Dimitri looked down at the large splinter running down its side and mentally banged his head against the desk.

“It appears so... I will request a replacement from the Professor.” He muttered back, silently rising to his feet and making his way to the desk up front. He was suddenly stopped on his 4-step journey when Byleth (with a crinkle in their nose and a sigh) redirected their frazzled student to a whole box of spare quills behind the blackboard. Dimitri-- very much aware that this box filled with ludicrous amounts of quills were entirely for him-- bowed deeply to the professor, picked up the feathery thing, and hurried back to his desk.

You looked up from your work to give your eyes a break from their swimming lessons and accidentally made eye contact with the returning prince. You both paused for a split second before you flashed him a heartfelt smile; a gentle warmth kissed the surface of your cheeks and you averted your eyes back to your studies.

A resounding snap reverberated throughout the quiet classroom.

“Dimitri?”

“Y-Yes, Professor?”

“See me after class.”

“Yes, Professor...”

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

While the rest of the class huddled outside the door and watched their house leader write “I will not break another quill” line after line on the blackboard, Sylvain looped an arm around your waist and winked.

“Hey, (F/N). Mind if I steal you for a bit?”

“Um... Sure.” Wary of his skirt-chasing tendencies, you were reluctantly led away from your classmates and into a more secluded part of the monastery.

“This better not be one of your tricks again, Sylvain... I already told you, I don’t like you in that way.”

“Ouch. That hurt.” Sylvain’s lips formed into an exaggerated pout and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Nah, this ain’t about me for once. It’s about a certain... someone.” He continued rather vaguely.

“A certain someone? Sylvain, are you sure this isn’t about you?”

“It’s really not, I swear.” He put his hands up in surrender and seeing him genuine for once, you decided to believe him.

“Well, before I continue, I just wanna know if you... y’know.” Sylvain’s eyebrows wriggled very suggestively and a teasing smirk splayed his features. Your heart thundered in your ear, already knowing where this was going.

“If I...?” You whispered, taut fingers knotting the fabric of your uniform.

“Like, like-like anyone?”

Sylvain wished with all his heart that he had some way to capture the look and flood of colors that quickly took hold of your face. He watched in silent amazement as your face shifted from a barely-there pink to strawberry red in a matter of seconds. Gotcha.

“W-Well, I mean--” You took a shaky step backwards and your jaw clenched so tightly you were certain you were gonna chip a tooth. “There is this guy... Wait, why am I telling you this?! It’s none of your business!”

You rammed past the tall male with enough force to almost knock him over as you promptly made your way back to where the rest of your classmates were.

Satisfied with the laughable drop in quality in Dimitri’s penmanship, Byleth finally let the poor male join his classmates outside. His fingers twitched in an unsightly fashion and his wrist throbbed and cricked with every motion he made. He let out a guttural groan, making small, crackling adjustments to his neck and shoulder. The only thing he had left to do today was train, but he’d probably just go ahead and retire to his bed, at least for a little while...

Past the sea of heads crowding around him, he saw a flash of (H/C) streak across his vision, followed shortly afterwards by a head of shaggy red. (F/N)...? What were you doing with Sylvain?

Crippling exhaustion transfigured into searing jealousy and his eyes narrowed at his childhood friend with cold suspicion. Sylvain could easily feel the scorned prince’s hard stare like a knife in the back.

Was he at all fazed? Not in the slightest.

In fact, thought Sylvain as he sidled right up next to you, he wanted to toy with Dimitri’s heart just a little bit more...  

“Excuse me everyone, but I must speak to Sylvain immediately.” He emphasized the last word sharply, gently pushing his way through the crowd. While he brushed shoulders with Ashe and waltzed around Ingrid, he spun around and ended up face-to-face with... Oh Goddess, his legs were turning into jelly.

“Dimitri...? Is something wrong?” You breathed, fumbling with your clammy digits.

“O-Oh!” Said male rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “Nothing, Belov-- (F/N). Please excuse me, but it is imperative that I have a little... talk, with Sylvain.”

He left you no room for response as he quickly latched onto the toothy-grinned noble and practically dragged him away on his heels.

“What seems to be the problem, Your Highness?”

“Let us discuss the issue in my quarters.”

“Your quarters? Oh ho ho.~”

“Stop it, Sylvain. ... We’re here now.”

Dimitri watched Sylvain plop on the edge of his bed, his lips upturned in a carefree fashion. Dimitri lowered himself on his uncomfortable desk chair, his hands anxiously squeezing his kneecaps.

“So what would you like to talk about, Your Highness?”

“It’s about (F/N).” Dimitri spoke resolutely. “Sylvain... I know this will sound nothing short of mad, but--”

“Let me guess. You like (F/N).”

Dimitri’s bodily organs ceased to function; every ounce of blood in his body mutated into sharp, prickling icicles that seized his heart in a snare of terror and dread.

“I-- Wait, how--?”

“Your Highness. No offense, but pretty much everyone knows how you feel about her. You’re not exactly... subtle.”

Dimitri? Not subtle? Even after the extraordinary lengths he went through to make sure you remained ignorant of his true feelings for you? His brain filed through each and every interaction he’s had with you, combing through each word and shaky glance and awkward blush exchanged between either of you. Well, sure, he’s no master of disguise, but he wasn’t that bad... right?

While Dimitri’s thoughts remained in utter chaos, Sylvain coolly continued.

“Hey, about that lil’ act earlier... I was just messin’ with you, Your Highness. (F/N)’s a serious cutie, but I’m really not after her. I swear.” Sylvain winked. “Plus, she doesn’t even like me. She actually told me she likes--”

“WHO?!” Before Sylvain even had time to process-- well, anything-- Dimitri was on his feet rattling the poor noble to and fro, completely forgetting the crippling strength his Crest bestowed him.

“Gah! Stop it! That hurts!” Sylvain cried, trying with all his might to pry Dimitri’s iron grip from his shoulders.

Coherency finally returning, Dimitri immediately unclasped his digits from Sylvain. An expression of apologetic horror shot through his eyes as he stumbled back, back, back against his desk. The chest of both men heaved violently; raspy and hasty apologies slipped out of Dimitri’s lips while pain-stricken groans and a few obscenities raced out of Sylvain’s.  

“I’m so-... I’m so sorry, Sylvain, I-- I’m so, so sorry--”

“Augh, Goddess... You’ve got quite a grip there, Your Highness...” Sylvain chuckled weakly, feeling his skin swell and bruise.

“Allow me to fetch a healer for you!”

“N-No worries... Ugh... Just, I need to talk to you.”

“Sylvain--”

“Please. Seeing you skirt about this issue is far more painful than any bruise you could give me... But I’m not gonna lie, this one comes pretty close.”

Dimitri drew in a deep breath and settled in his desk chair, its wooden legs creaking slightly from his weight. He planted his elbows firmly by his kneecaps and rested his chin on folded hands.

“Lemme ask you a question, Your Highness. Do you truly love (F/N)?”

“Yes.” Dimitri answered unfazed, but suddenly realized the gravity of his response and drooped his eyes towards the floor.

“Then tell her!”

“I... I can’t. I’m afraid I lack the confidence to waltz up to a girl and profess my feelings to her. Especially with what happened to...” Dimitri shivered at the awkwardly painful memory and continued. “Sylvain, what if she doesn’t like me in that way? Then I’d have made a fool of myself in front of everybody. But most importantly, her...”

“Well, since she didn’t tell me exactly who she liked, there’s no surefire way to know...” Sylvain acquiesced. “But I’ve got a real good feeling about this. Trust me! If there’s one thing in the world that I can help you with, it would be something like this.”

“Well, I suppose you’re right...” Dimitri pondered, sighing in defeat. “But regardless of whether she likes me or not, I am unable to simply walk up to her and tell her my feelings. That’s...”

Dimitri trailed off, dejection glossing his pastel blues.

“I don’t deserve someone like her.” He breathed out just above a whisper. Poignancy took hold of Sylvain’s heart after hearing the sincerity in Dimitri’s voice. One look at the despondent royal was enough to tell him how much he believed those words-- how much Dimitri believed that he, a beast stained by blood and vengeance, could never have a beauty as tender and loving as you.

“Hey, come on Your Highness... It’s not fair on your part to be giving yourself so little credit.”

“Sylvain, look at me.” Dimitri cupped his throbbing head in his hands and he growled. “I am a monster. I can not drag someone as pure, lovely, and beautiful as (F/N) into...”

He paused, choosing his next words carefully.

“She deserves someone else-- someone who can bring her true happiness. Someone who’s... not me.”

Sylvain gritted his teeth from the dark and pulverizing atmosphere. Dimitri was spiraling. Further, faster into the void.

“Cheer up, Your Highness!” Sylvain bubbled half-heartedly, desperately trying to reel his friend from the abyss. “You’re a great guy! Hey. Remember when we went out to cull some bandits outta that one village? And some bad guy almost got (F/N)? You managed to swoop in just before that happened! You saved her, Deems. The look of pure adoration and gratitude in her eyes after the battle... It felt good, right?”

“I... suppose.”

“Oh! And remember when (F/N) was having a hard time grasping the concept of that battle formation the other day? Who came in, and spent the rest of their afternoon tutoring her until she could explain why you needed to send the flyers in first?”

“... I did.”

“Yup! And who’s the chivalrous, hard-working leader of the Blue Lions that everyone looks up to?”

“I am.”

“Atta boy, Your Highness! See? You’re a great guy! And the fact that you’re a prince doesn’t hurt your chances either.” Sylvain’s eyebrows danced smugly.

Dimitri’s chest rose and fell in laughter; Sylvain’s eyes lit up like a star. He managed to save him-- at least for now.

“Thank you, Sylvain. I really needed that encouragement. I... I apologize for--”

“No worries, Your Highness. ... I’m just glad I was able to help.” Sylvain clasped a hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly.

“Um, Sylvain...”

“Hm?”

“How do I confess to her? Properly?”

Sylvain clapped his hands together and rubbed them gleefully.

“Don’t worry, Your Highness. I’ve got a plan.”

[dreamofbetterthings]

“Stay.” James T. Kirk x reader

Celebrity: James T. Kirk (played by Chris Pine)

Movie: (Kelvin Timeline Star Trek, Star Trek: Into Darkness, and Star Trek: Beyond)

Prompt: 9. "Stay"

Spoilers: None, this doesn't take place during any of the films.

Summary: The mission went wrong. Terribly wrong. Everyone made it back on the Enterprise, but unfortunately, someone was hurt. 

Warnings: ANGST UP TO THE EYES PEOPLE

A/N

I have been MIA for a long while, and I apologize. I'm going through a pretty tough patch right now, so please bear with me. I'll try and start uploading regularly again. This is part of the #Lovermrjokerr8kchallenge They recently reached 8k followers on here. I love their work, and they deserve all the love in the world. Go ahead and check them out. @lovermrjokerr​ Thank you for letting me be a part of this, congrats again on 8k followers! BTW what is said in the gif isn’t actually in the story. This was literally the only image I could find of that scene that fit. This is a little different than how I normally write, so feel free to let me know what you think.

Tuesday 3:00 PM

You look down at your shaky hands and feel sick to your stomach. They're stained dark. It was the color of wine Uhura drank too much of a couple of nights before. The sensation of excessive heat burning through your body at one time. It was the feeling of knowing that something was wrong. Going over to the sink in the room, you scrub your hands as your life depended on it. Under your nails, up to your elbows, and anywhere there was still crimson. Despite your hands being clean, you still scrubbed until your hands went numb. After drying them off, Bones walked into the room and you made your way over to him. 

"How is he Leonard?" His jaw tensed. You never called him by his real name unless something serious happened. He sighed and motioned towards the door. "If you didn't jump in when you did, then he'd still be bleeding out. We sewed up the gash you found and checked for any others, but we only found the one. I made an antidote from the bullet you brought back and gave it to him. We're going to do a couple of tests as soon as his symptoms go away, just to be sure he's in stable condition. If we tried doing it now then we could risk a flare-up." You nodded and glanced towards the door. "Can I go see him?" A small frown appears on the doctor's face and you have your answer. "Not right now. I'm sorry. Once the antidote fully takes effect, then you should be able to stay with him." His PADD goes off and he gives your hand a small squeeze before going back into the room.

Tuesday 6:00 PM

A flat-line broke the silence in the room and you were up and alert. Leonard instantly came out of the room knowing that you would want to go in. He held you in place while you tried to move past him aggressively. "Let me go...please. I see to see him." Tears brimmed your eyes as you tried to enter the room. Making eye contact with you, he forced you to stop. "Look, you've done more than enough to help him. Right now, I need you to stay out here or everything we did...everything you just did would have been for nothing. I'll come and get you as soon as I can, but I need you to stay here for me, and for him. Please." You glance behind him but quickly close your eyes, feeling the tears falling down your face. Giving him a nod, you reluctantly step away and go sit down. As long as Leonard has been your friend, he has never seen you so heartbroken. So vulnerable. He gives you one last look before hearing a nurse call out "Doctor McCoy! He's still crashing!" and running back into the room.

Thursday 10:00 PM

You didn't want to sleep, but that seemed to be the only option at the time instead of pacing around the room. You were still in the clothes from your mission, not wanting to go change in case he was awake. You felt a gentle shake of your shoulder, causing your eyes to open. Leonard was standing over you with a cup of water in his hand. "I would have woke you up earlier, but you looked like you needed the rest." Groggily sitting up from the now very uncomfortable spot in the chair, he hands you a cup of water. After drinking practically the whole cup, you ask "How long was I out?" He checks his watch. "About four hours." Your eyes widen for a moment before mumbling, "I guess I did need some sleep." Leonard nodded and there was a silence before he spoke up again. 

"He's alright. He flat-lined again after you went to sleep, but we got him back. All of his symptoms are gone, but now he needs two pints of blood to replace what he lost earlier. I really hate to ask this of you, but I know you're a universal donor. Do y-" You cut him off and give him a small nod. "I already know, and I'll do it." Leonard suddenly becomes even more serious. "If we do this, then I have to watch over your vitals too. I don't expect anything bad to happen, but I can't take any chances. I had someone on my team swap the chairs with the couch in the waiting room, so you have something a little bit more comfortable to sit on." 

After a quick stretch to loosen your stiff body, you follow Leonard into the medbay. You go to a room in the back and that's when you ultimately get a chance to fully see him without all the medical personnel. Cautiously walking over to the side of the bed, you get a good look at his face for the first time. His name finally being able to slip from your lips. 

"Jim."

He looked awful. Thin wires of ash and blue flames crawled up his neck and passed by his sunken-in eyes. Almost as if he was sick and fighting for his life, and he finally lost. You took a seat on the couch, very happy to be on something that wasn't rock hard. Very hesitantly, you took Jim's hand in yours. It was almost stone-cold, but still, you hoped that they would return to their comfortable warmth. Leonard came over with all his materials and gave a nod. Giving him one in return, he got started. 

Friday 2:00 AM

You were growing restless. The transfusion worked, and the color returned to Jim's face, but he didn't wake up. Leonard said that it could take a few days for his body to fully function, but you couldn't stand not knowing for sure. You refused to leave his side, with the exception of Leonard forcing you out to change out of your mission clothes and into something else. Jim's hand was intertwined with your every hour of the day, wanting him to know that someone was here for him and that they weren't going anywhere. It was late, or early rather, and you were still sitting on that couch holding Jim's hand while going through some paperwork you missed days before. It was too hard for you to concentrate on the stupid paperwork with everything going on. With a sigh, you closed the file and tossed the pen on the side table. You sat there for a while, just breathing. Just thinking. That's when you felt it. 

A squeeze on your hand. 

Sitting up and almost giving yourself a headache, you glanced back and forth between your hand and his still closed eyes. You whispered quietly. "Jim? If you can hear me, squeeze my hand again. Just a little squeeze. Okay?" You kept glancing at his hand in yours, waiting to feel the same sensation you were dying to feel again. After a couple of minutes of no response, you sighed and looked down, trying not to cry again. That's when you felt it the second time, only longer. You blinked the tears away and looked over at his hand in yours. Giving it a small squeeze yourself, you watch as his arm tenses up and does the same back to you. Looking at his face, you see his eyes trying to open, and that's when you get even more excited. "Yes Jim, yes! Open your eyes for me, please. I'm still here, I can feel you squeezing my hand. I won't go anywhere, but I need you to try and open your eyes." You can see his closed eyes darting around, almost like he was in REM sleep. It only takes a few moments, before you feel a strong grip on your hand, and then the unthinkable happens.

Jim's eyes open.

He blinks a few times to get used to the dim light in the medbay and starts to look around. Not wanting to crowd him, you lean back a little and let him finally make eye contact with you on his own. His eyes were calm, like flowing waterfalls, soft like the sky in the morning and sweet like biting into cotton candy. They were vibrant, they were open, and they were looking at you. Your lip quivers and those tears come back again. With a shaky voice, you call out to him, actually happy that he can answer. "J-Jim?" He gives you a small smile and whispers out,

“Hey." 

Before you break down and wrapped your arms around him. He was able to move his arms and put them around you just as tightly. His scent was as strong as a slap in the face and bit into your nose like an animal with sharp teeth. You couldn't comprehend anything else, so you could only say his name quietly over and over. You cried until salty tears were the only familiar taste on your tongue. But still, you hung onto your captain, and your friend, and practically dug your nails into his skin like he was all you had left. You got ready to get up and go get Leonard, but Jim leaned into your embrace and raspily whispered one word in your ear. "Stay." A smile found it's way onto your face for the first time in four days, and it couldn't have felt better. "I'm not going anywhere, Jim. I promise."

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Field of Poppies Part 4

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 4: The Shelbys go on holiday to the summer fair. 

             With school on summer holiday, Polly was at her wit's end with the children. While they mostly played outside, they’d always be in and out of the house banging around, tracking mud on the floor, coming in with scraped knees, or crying about something being unfair. Meanwhile, Finn was starting to walk and was also wreaking havoc, pulling on everything not tied down and making quick getaways.

            So, it was decided they would spend some of the holiday on the road with the Strong family. Of course, Tommy and Arthur weren’t exactly pleased. Seeing as the betting shop was just getting up and started, they couldn’t afford to lose out on money. Polly insisted and said Danny and the other men could handle a few weeks.

            Going on seven months pregnant, Amelia was a bit apprehensive about traveling out to the Welsh countryside. However, Tommy assured her that if she were to go into an early labor, she was in capable hands, probably better than any doctor in Birmingham. It was enough to sway her. They all needed a break from the city’s smoke and mud. Some fresh air was bound to do them good.

             And oh how sweet the air smelled once they were finally away from the city limits. Amelia had been to the countryside before but had never joined Tommy’s family to see their kin out on the road. Her parents would never allow her to be near other Travelers, especially ones who tended to be more nomadic in nature than the Shelbys were.

            But Tommy had told her enough stories as a child to make her interested. He tried to scare her with the stories they would tell around the fires. Try to explain the excitement of spring and summer fairs. It seemed like another world when he described it all. To be out in the Welsh wilderness, sleeping under the stars, riding horses all day, spinning yarns about fairies, it seemed to be a child’s dream.

            Now, Amelia was much more aware of the struggles Tommy’s extended family faced. The prejudice and poverty. None of those issues mattered as a child. They had blinders on so they wouldn't see the ugly side of life. All they saw was the fantastical magic the world still held onto. She yearned to have that innocence back but there was no going back.

   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            On the second day of traveling to the Black Mountains, Tommy was steering the vardo with Amelia sitting beside him. He held the position naturally, letting the reins be an extension of his arms as he guided the two horses along. Arthur was on another horse, riding along while Polly and the other three children stayed in the back of the wagon.

            “Good to be outside, aye?” Tommy struck up a conversation as a lull in the muggy afternoon settled on them.

            “Oh yes.” Amelia nodded. “Good to see the clear sky instead of smoke.” She joked. "I forgot how blue the sky could get sometimes." 

            “Get used to it. ‘Cause when we’ve got everything going with the shop, m’gonna buy a house out in the countryside.”      

            She smiled. “Is that right?” It wasn’t the first time Tommy made bold claims. Once money started rolling in from the betting shop, he started promising things that sounded outlandish even to Arthur. He promised a brand new luxury car to John, a new five story house for Polly, as many horses as Ada could want, and now a house in the country.

            “Like a cottage. Mum, dad, and I used to rent one for the holidays out in Wiltshire.” She recalled. “Cute little place.”

            “No.” He shook his head, the cigarette in his mouth practically just a bit of ash. “One of those fucking big ones. Like royals have. Dukes 'n whatever they are.”

            “Oh, Thomas, please.” She giggled and nudged him.

            “I’m serious!” He chucked the last bit of his cigarette. “Big place, dozens of bedrooms, proper kitchen, riding stables, maids, cooks, everything. We’ll live there with the baby. He’ll have room to run ‘stead of being cooped up in Small Heath.”

            It sounded wonderful to Amelia, like the stories he used to tell about traveling. But it was so far-fetched. “Can we focus just on what we’ve got now?” She wondered. “Tommy, I’m okay with making do with what I’ve got…and what you and your family have given me.” She touched his knee.

            He glanced over at her, his blue eyes so bright in the summer sun. “You don’t think you deserve more than this?” He wondered. “Wouldn’t you rather a nice big house, proper holidays to places like France?”

            “All those things would be nice but if I never get those things then I’ll be fine. I’m okay with what I have now.” She smiled at him to reassure that there wasn’t anything he needed to prove to her or promise.

            Tommy sighed and his eyes returned to the grassy path ahead of them. “I know the baby’s not mine but…I don’t want any other kid to go hungry like we did. Ain’t right how we were brought up. And if I can change that for my family and for the baby then, why not?”

            Amelia felt she wasn’t in a place to tell if he was right or wrong. So, she leaned over to kiss his cheek affectionately. “You’re a good man, Tommy Shelby.” She said softly. “A very good man.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            They met up with the Strongs at their camp and together they moved North to go to the Appleby fair. Ada chattered on to Amelia the whole ride there about how fun the fair was. There were crafts and fortune-tellers and horses, horses, horses. She would see all of her cousins and other distant relatives that they only got to see once in a blue moon. They’d race horses, swap stories, share laughs, and her brothers would box with the Lee boys.

            Although the trip took a little under a week, Amelia was in good spirits the whole way there. Tommy was practically a different person out in the countryside. He knew how to survive in Small Heath and knew how to survive outdoors just as well. He let loose a bit, not bothering to dress up and going barefoot a lot of the times. He smiled more and played with his siblings. It was as if he had left all his worries back in the city.

            Amelia thought he was so beautiful in the sun. His smile brightened ten fold, his eyes sparkled, and he moved as if he didn't have any stress on his shoulders. It warmed her heart to see him play-wrestling with John, riding horses with Ada, and picking up Finn to spin him around. For a moment, she pictured her child in the scene. A little boy or girl toddling after Tommy, looking for his attention. Tommy scooping them up and holding them close, just as a father would.

            All she could do was smile and keep her wide-eyed fantasies to herself. But it was so easy to get caught up in the magic of the forests and fields. It was so easy to get caught up in the smile of Tommy Shelby.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

            Ada was right, there was a lot to be said about the fair. Intricately and brightly painted vardos lined up and many people were milling around. There were people washing their horses in the rivers as children played and splashed one another by the banks.

            After a long journey, Amelia wanted to stretch her legs. Tommy walked with her along the river as the rest of the family prepared camp and watered the horses.

            “Pol said your feet might be hurting these days.” Tommy’s aunt was his go-to to get any pregnancy answers.

            “They’re a bit swollen, the heat doesn’t help,” Amelia admitted. Although getting to walk was nice, she was starting to get flushed in the heat.

            “And uh…any word from home?” He kept his eyes to the ground, kicking a stone along their way.

            “While we’ve been on the road for over a week?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “I haven’t gotten any messenger birds.”

            Tommy chuckled. “I meant when we were back home. I mean, we haven’t talked about it much.” He pointed out.

            Her smile faded. “No, I haven’t heard from them. I don’t know if they know where I am but I figured…well, I figured they would’ve thought to try and find me in Small Heath. I don’t know where else I would’ve gone with nothing in me pockets.

            “And the father?” They hadn’t broached the subject before because Polly insisted that he leave the matter be. But curiosity was just too damn tough to ignore.

            “Tom, I told you…”

            “Tommy Shelby!” Someone crowed out ahead of them. Three young men about Tommy and Arthur’s age stopped them.

            His face soured when he saw who was calling him. “Will.” He muttered obviously not in the mood to talk to them.

            “I heard the Shelbys were coming, how the hell are ya?” Will appeared to be the oldest of the three, a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair.

            “Fine, fine.”

           "And he's got someone up the duff." Will smacked a hand to his forehead when he saw Amelia. "Shelby, Shelby, Shelby. What a shame! You have to learn how to pull out or these things happen, Tommy."  He tutted in Shelta. "She is a sight though."

            Amelia suddenly felt very self-conscious about the baby bump showing. Of course, she ought to be showing at her stage of pregnancy, but she wasn’t keen on embarrassing the Shelbys. Especially if Tommy wasn’t actually the father.

            “Watch your fucking mouth.” Tommy spat venomously.

            The Lee brothers jostled each other, pleased that he was fighting back. “Still got that mouth on ya, Tommy Boy, haven’t ya?”

            “Fuck off.” He wrapped an arm around Amelia’s waist to steer her away from the brothers. “Fucking lowlifes never know when to shut their mouths..” He muttered under his breath.

            “Still got a fight in ya then? Or are ya too scared to step into the ring with me?” Will taunted after him.

            Amelia felt Tommy’s arm stiffen and he stopped in his tracks. Her eyebrows knit in worry. “Tom…” She warned.

            But he slipped away from her and turned to face the brothers again. “Name a time.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~

            “Ah, it’s never too long ‘til Tommy gets into it with one of the Lees at the fair.” Arthur punched his brother in the arm. “Lucky you got practice with those Birmingham Boys, aye?”

            Tommy avoided Amelia’s questioning glance even though he could feel her eyes on him.

            Polly didn’t even look like she wanted to get into the matter. Men fought at fairs, that was only tradition and it was in good fun most of the time. Besides, Small Heath was much more dangerous than a bout of boxing.

            Around the Shelbys’ camp, there was a buzz in the air of excitement. Music could be heard in a couple of different directions, people laughed and joined each other for a good time around the roaring fires and lanterns. Some girls some yards away were dancing in a circle, their long skirts illuminated by the flames.

            “When can I fight, Pol?” John asked hopefully. “I can take the Lees too!”

            “Hush.” Polly scolded. “When you’re older and you’ve learned how to box properly. I don’t want to bring you home with a broken hand.”

            John grimaced. “I’m old enough.” He muttered.

            “Men don’t pout or slouch.” She said and stood up to tend to Finn who was stirring in the vardo.

            “You gonna kill ‘im then, Tom?” Arthur smirked. “I heard he was…” He made a subtle gesture to Amelia who was talking softly with Ada. The eldest Shelby wanted to mention about how bad Tommy had it for Amelia. It was blatantly obvious to everyone. But neither of them seemed to want to admit it. 

            Tommy tossed a twig into the fire mindlessly. “He’ll learn to keep his fucking mouth shut.” He mumbled.

            “Shelby!” Someone called.

            Arthur grinned and clapped his brother on the back. “Let’s go then.”

            “Tom?” Amelia looked worried when they stood up. “Where are you going?”

            “Gonna go fight, Mel. Tommy’s gonna show them Lees how to throw a good punch”

            “But…” Her stomach went into knots. “Maybe you could stay here and-”

            “Won’t be long, Mel,” Tommy promised.

            “Fine, then I’m coming.” She wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders and followed them.

            “Not really for women.” Arthur tried to show opposition to the idea but Tommy didn’t seem to mind. Maybe if she saw him fight, she would know he could hold his own and she wouldn’t have to worry about the betting shop. No longer was he the stick-thin little teenager who was sometimes more bark than bite. No, he’d found his anger and learned to use it to his advantage.

                       The makeshift ring was lit by lanterns and nearby fires. A group was already forming to watch the show. The Lees were riling Will up who was already there, waiting for his opponent. But they all seemed to be in good nature, passing drinks and cigarettes, laughing, and cussing.

            Tommy pulled off his undershirt and handed it to Amelia to hold. She was a bit stunned to see he had a tattoo on his chest. The sun-like lines were certainly new as far as she was aware. But she didn’t mention the ink.

            Arthur was handing his brother a flask, Tommy downing the contents before ducking under the rope.

            The crowd of onlookers was a bit rowdy, pleased to see young blood fighting like real men. Bare knuckles, no weapons, how it was meant to be a Romani man. A good show of tradition.

            Amelia felt her palms start to sweat. Will was a good head taller than Tommy was and seemingly more muscular by his build.

            However, Arthur, standing beside her, looked less than concerned. “He’ll be alright, Mellie. He’s taken down bigger fuckers than this one.” He promised.

            Amelia had seen Tommy fight before, but the last time must’ve been when they were only thirteen. The wiry boy had a habit for picking fights and never staying down even when he was bleeding or had a broken bone. She never seemed to mind seeing him fight while they were in school. But seeing him in the ring with someone bigger than him, it made her stomach flip-flop.

            And Tommy drew out the suspension. He allowed Will to get in a couple of swings, but he dodged them. His size allowed him to be quicker and more agile on his feet. The two circled around each other, fists up by their faces. Will looked smug with himself, confident that he would win. On the other hand, Tommy had fire in his blue-eyes. He wasn't fighting to have a few laughs. 

            “Hit ‘im, Tommy!” Arthur roared after his brother dodged a couple more blows.

            Something changed in Tommy’s eyes as he threw a punch. Amelia could hear the blow land even over the boisterous crowd. She winced and ducked her head a bit. When had she ever been afraid to watch a fight? She must’ve egged on a few scuffles in her day. Goading Tommy to kick in the teeth of the school bully. But when Will landed a punch and she saw Tommy’s head jerk back, she cringed and hid her face in Arthur’s sleeve.

            She could still hear the contact of punches, the sound of the men spurring them on, and the grunts from Will and Tommy as they fought. But she couldn’t bear to watch it.  

            It only took a few minutes before someone was shouting.“Oi, oi! Get ‘im off!”

            “Tom, c’mon, that’s enough!” Arthur moved from Amelia and got into the ring.

            She looked up and saw Tommy on top of Will, pummeling his face. Arthur ripped his brother off.

            "Got fucking devils in them. Those fucking Shelbys are rabid." Someone nearby remarked.

             "Aye, get it from their father. Murder in their blood."

             "Do not let me hear you talking about her again." Tommy threatened in Shelta before he finally let his brother steer him away from the ring. He spat on the ground, leaving the Lees to help an injured Will off the ground. 

            Coated with a sheen of sweat, Tommy was breathing hard. Even in the dim light, Amelia could assess the damage. It seemed Will had taken the brunt of the fight. Tommy only walked away with a bloody lip, a bruise forming on his jaw, and some dirt sticking to his torso.

            “Go wash off and calm the fuck down,” Arthur ordered before heading back toward the camp.

  ~~~~~~~~~~         

            Amelia followed Tommy to the river so he could wash the blood and dirt away. She lingered behind as he knelt down on the bank and splash cold water over him.

            “What did you say to him?” She wondered.

            “Nothing.” Tommy shook the water from his hair and wiped his hands over his face.

            “Well, you said something, Tom.”

            He stood and took his shirt back, using it to dry off a bit. “It was nothing.” He said again.

            They stood in silence for a bit. Music still hung in the air as the night wore on. There was an uproar from the crowd, signaling the start of another boxing match.

            Curious, Amelia stepped toward him and splayed her fingers out over his tattoo, following the direction of the lines. “This is new.”

            Tommy felt like his skin was on fire even after the cold douse of water. He couldn’t find the words for a long moment, simply watching her slender fingers trailing over the inked lines. “I-uh…you can’t tell Pol about it.” He tried to hide his stammer. “She’ll fucking kill me.”

            Amelia laughed softly and withdrew her hand. “Alright.” She agreed. “Your secret is safe with me.”                    

            He smiled and threw on the shirt to conceal the tattoo. “C’mon.” He murmured and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​ @kimmietea​ @karmezii​ @enrapturedbythemoon​ @vampgirl1997​

Tag list: @shelbyblinded​

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[ash-clarington]

WHO: Ash & Dani @daniharperdominant WHEN: saturday night 5/8  WHERE: Hotel Warnings; tw: drug mentions

Ash had felt weightless for a while. She'd spent the entire day with Dani, she would have stayed the whole night had the rules allowed but the last few nights she'd taken to staying tucked up beside the Dominant until she had to go, pulling herself from the bed with enough time to get back to her assigned room before curfew. After Friday night though, Ash found herself knocking back at Dani's door bright and early and getting back into bed to sleep the rest of the morning away. They’d spent another day together and after a quick re-up in the bathroom ( on her OWN phone ) and a scene, Ash had hardly felt as if she'd had a body. It was just after midnight then though and both the effects were beginning to wear thin on her as her thoughts started to flood again. Ash pushed back further into Dani as they spooned in bed, testing with a squeeze of her hand to the Domme's to see if she was awake.

The time she'd been able to spend with Ash had been a blessing after not being able to see her so long, and she'd treasured every single moment of it from the morning to curfew.  Saturday had been no exception, and after a full day together they'd curled up in bed together to just rest and be in each other's company.  She was drifting, not quite asleep but not quite awake, and her reaction to the little squeeze was delayed by a moment.  When she did feel it though, she hummed.  "Hey, you."

Getting a response, Ash turned over. The light was off but there was enough light shining in from outside that she could just make out Dani's face. Ash wedged her leg between the Dominant's to get herself closer, finding Dani's hand again to link their fingers. "Hey." She returned, big eyes flickering back and forth between Dani's. After a week of crashing into her at full speed and all the so called space she needed prior, Ash knew she was going to have to say something. Going back to campus and dodging the Domme's attempts to see her again after she'd so clearly missed her wasn't going to make any sense. Ash didn't want to play any games, she just wasn't sure where she was supposed to start. Fidgeting with a corner of the sheet, the submissive took a deep breath and let it out slow and quiet. "I need to talk to you about something."

Dani smiled at her, the smile only getting bigger as their fingers were linked.  But it didn't take long to see that something had changed, like a switch being flipped.  Ash looked nervous, not quite maintaining eye contact, and it was disconcerting because Dani really had no idea what was happening or what had changed so suddenly.  She didn't push, though, waiting until Ash finally spoke.  "I'm right here," she promised, squeezing their joined fingers.  "For whatever you want to talk about."

There was a long pause while Ash attempted to put her thoughts in order in an effort to not get ahead of herself, or let on just a bit too much. In the grand scheme of it Ash couldn't guess how Dani was going to react and apart from Hunter's unpredictability, that's what scared her the most. "I know you must have notice me... not around as much for a while." It was easier to just be frank. In any case, it was the only way Ash knew how to communicate. "Ever since my brother has arrived." Subconsciously her fingers moved from toying at the sheet to gripping Dani's shirt instead, habit she had whenever she was worried she'd be left on her own or when seeking comfort. The other hand still locked in a grip around the Domme's. "It isn't that I didn't want to see you it's just... Hunter just has a lot of opinions and a problem with being in my business."

There wasn't a word spoken or any move to rush as Dani waited.  Whatever Ash needed to say to her was important, and she wouldn't take that away by getting ahead of herself.  "I have noticed that," she replied softly.  She didn't know that it had anything to do with Hunter, but the timing did line up.  As Ash played with her shirt Dani grew more concerned, because that was a comfort gesture and if she needed comfort then the conversation definitely couldn't be good.  "So...does that mean that Hunter has a problem with me?  Because I don't think I've done anything to him..."

"No, it's not like that. Not... exactly." Ash shook her head. She didn't know how to explain to Dani how impossible her brother was, especially when it came to his views and values. "He's just been..." The submissive shook her head again, momentarily at a loss for the right words, "watching me, somehow." She rolled her eyes. This was ridiculous, her brother had no business being the topic of conversation on a late night laying with someone she cared for. Ash resented every moment of this. "And he's been known to question who I spend my time with."

Dani frowned.  None of what she was hearing made sense to her, and she didn't like the way it sounded.  "Your brother's been watching you?  That sounds like the kind of thing that you should talk to the Deans about, Gorgeous.  Because that's a million miles from okay.  And he wants to decide who you spend time with?  Would I not meet his standards?  I'm not angry," she promised.  "But I just want to understand."

Ash grew more and more anxious with every word Dani said, her index finger twisting around the hem of her shirt in one direction and then the other. Although she did let slip a sort of scoff at the mention of the Deans, even if there was something to be done it'd only piss him or her father off in the long run for making a scene. "I don't know what he'll think..." That was a lie, Ash already knew exactly what he would say. Dani wasn't a legacy and she wasn't from a wealthy family, she was sure anything else wouldn't even matter to him.  "but I know he has a way of always getting what he wants and getting rid of what he doesn't and I'm worried he'd..." Ash's eyes snapped to Dani's and she quieted herself, she wasn't trying to create conflict here. In fact her goal was the exact opposite, Ash just wanted to keep Dani to herself. "I don't want to be a problem for you."

It sounded to Dani like he would actually threaten her if he didn't like her.  And while she wasn't a fighter by nature, she hadn't spent time where she had without learning a few things.  "I want you to listen to me, okay?" she stroked Ash's cheek gently with one hand.  "You are never, and will never be, a problem for me.  If your brother doesn't approve of me he can talk to me about that in person.  But I believe that who you spend your time with is your choice, and as long as I'm that choice I'd like to keep doing that.  As long as that's what you want."

Ash untwined her hand from Dani's to lift it to her other at her face before she could pull away, capturing it and holding it there on her cheek. "I want to choose to spend time with you." Ash said, meaning it. She wanted to see Dani, she wanted to be near to her, that much she knew. Her chest always tightened into an ache with the thought of other things so she seldom allowed herself to go there but Ash had come to trust Dani the most and she certainly didn't want to stop seeing her. Ash also didn't want Hunter anywhere near her. If her brother decided he wanted to, just to get her out of Ash's life or to punish Ash for her choices, he wouldn't hurt Dani directly. The submissive didn't think so anyway, though she had witnessed him fly off, that was usually reserved for fits of rage and people who had wronged him personally. It would come from something more unexpected, something he could control with his money or connections. Ash pressed her lips together to keep from frowning as she searched Dani's face. They hadn't really gotten anywhere and she wasn't high enough anymore to keep thinking about it. She ducked her head and hid herself beneath Dani's chin, it wasn't something she was going to be able to convey right then and her energy had run dry. Ash hooked a finger beneath the Dominant's shirt collar and steadied herself with a long audible sigh. "I should go soon." She noted, even though they were only just approaching 1AM. "Curfew."

Dani nodded.  That was good.  It was what she wanted to hear, because it was the most important thing in her mind.  Whatever her brother was doing that worried her so much, Dani intended to find out - especially if it was going to affect their ability to be together.  She wouldn't go at the problem directly, not yet, but there were sideways and alleys she could take that might help explain what was happening.  As Ash curled up to her, hiding beneath her chin, she pressed her lips to the top of her head.  "If that's what you'd like to do, gorgeous.  Can't be breaking curfew."  Then, though, she pulled back a little.  "Promise me that we'll still see each other when we get back?"

Her eyes were already closed, forehead nearly flush to Dani's chest, but Ash swallowed thickly around the lump in her throat, trying to decide how best not to lie. "I'll still see you, Miss." She said leaving out the word promise and dropping the 'maybe not like this' or, 'just not nearly enough' entirely. The submissive had to force herself to move from out of Dani's arms and the bed but the thrum of her heart in her temples and the guilt swarming like bees inside her were enough to make her wish she were back in the bathroom, or at least smoking a cigarette. She tugged on her shorts, then boots, and balled her sweater up with her phone in her hands. Ash stood for a moment looking back at Dani, then brought her knee back over the mattress to lean down and drop a kiss to the Dominant's cheek, "I'll come back in the morning." She promised, and made herself go before Dani could ask her anything else.

Her arms stayed looped around Ash for as long as she was willing to stay, waiting to hear the answer to her question.  There were words that she noticed didn't come, ones that were important, but Dani didn't push.  Whatever the future held they'd navigate it, and if that forced her to be a little bit more proactive in her actions then that would have to be the way it was.  Letting go carefully, she watched Ash dress and turned her head just a little to accept the kiss.  "I'll see you then, gorgeous."

[dayasbun]

Fame - Angus Cloud (2)

Summary- a luckily timed audition leads to you falling for your new and unexpected co-star.

Warnings- okay HI welcome to my first multi chapter series woah?! this is actually so exciting for me like wow especially since angus doesn't have any fics yet im just really really excited- so warnings! smut for sure, bad words, lotsa fluff, angst- everything in one basically. here comes a ride and I hope you enjoy :)

Part 1

Part 2 {reading now}

-

You didn't do happy dances often, because usually there weren't many things that made you happy enough to dance for. But when you woke up after having the most splendid dream to an email that read:

'Hello Ms. Y/F/N Y/L/N, and thank you for applying for the role as Jess. We have reviewed your audition tape and were quite pleased with what we saw. For the next step in the hiring process, we ask that you come to the same site yet again today at 3 PM for a go through with your possible costar, without the script. If that time isn't good for you, please return this email in its entirety so that we can reschedule, and if the time sounds good we can't wait to see you today. Thank you.'

...a happy dance seemed to be necessary, right?

Your excitement bubbled as you put on a light pink crop and a pair of simple blue jean shorts. The look was overall simple- too simple for you, so you decided to top it off with a few hair-clips, a coat of lip gloss on your lips, and lastly some sweet-smelling lotion on your bare arms and legs.

It seemed as though 3 came quickly, but you made sure you were there by 2:50. 'Better to be early than late', you always told yourself. You always stuck by that.

Walking into the building with your pink jelly wedges clicking against the marble floor you signed in. To your surprise, they called you in at 2:55, earlier than you were expecting.

"Y/N! Punctual and looking gorgeous as usual," said one of the co-producers, Mary, and to your surprise she greeted you with a hug. She was the woman that showed the most hospitality to you through out the time you had been auditioning, a sweet, short little woman that smelled like this mornings coffee.

"Aw thank you, you're so sweet," you smiled letting off of the hug and readjusting the crop.

"So Angus is running a bit late, it happens a lot so feel free to sit over there with the other girls and we'll just see where this takes you guys sound good?"

You wondered how he was running late when it was only 2:57, but you just agreed with a smile and walked over to sit with a small group of girls. All of them glared at you as you sat down, so you decided to weigh out the competition.

You weren't one to judge- or you tried not to be- but god these girls were bland. No hair-clips, no lip gloss- not even a smile. Almost all of them wore the same, a white button up blouse with black slacks, black ballet flats, and kept their hair tied back with a colorful scrunchie. Blonde, with perfectly painted nails and you would bet money they had pedicures to match. There was nothing wrong with them, but they seemed to not know how to have fun from the energy they were giving off, and how boring it must be to have no fun. You honestly almost couldn't help but to feel worried though, was there a dress code in the email that you missed?

More girls began to filter in as the next 10 minutes passed, at least some of them seemed to actually have a personality.

"Okay well imma call you back, I got some business to do- oh you know it you feel me!? Nah wit' the show, like auditioning with all these girls or sum. Yeah okay bet imma call you later anyway, bye."

3:13.

"Angus, you're late." Mary spoke up with a sigh, "I don't want any excuses from you, lets kick this into high gear shall we?"

"Who was giving excuses though like... I just be cancelling my alarm, nobody got time for waking up before 2:45 anyway."

That made you laugh a bit, and apparently louder than you expected, because the whole room, Angus included turned their heads to look at you. Mary shook her head and just looked at the list she held, and you lowered your eyes to look down at the carpeting. "Alright let's start. Girls exit the room, the auditions are one on one with just us, you, and Angus to avoid pressure and judgment."

You all stood up, heading towards the door to pile out.

"Y/N, stay."

Why'd you feel like you were about to get in trouble for laughing or some shit?

You turned around and walked to the center of the room by Angus, but you didn't look up at him. You could feel him watching you and considering you had no idea what he was thinking, you hated it.

"Well you two know what to do, start when you feel comfortable. Y/N has the first line."

You turned your body towards him and looked up, he was a lot taller than you...you felt like a little person.

Before you got too flustered, you let out a shaky breath and started. "But baby, come on you can do so much more, you can- we can travel the world or some corny shit like that, that's what you always wanted to do when we were kids. You don’t have to sell, and we can bring Ash with u-"

"Yeah well we ain't kids no more. Traveling takes money, I put all I got into stuff that's actually useful. I shoulda never gotten attached to you and shit again, damn you always do this."

"Fez..." your voice softened as you remembered this part of the script: 'Jess stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around Fez's neck, pulling him down to her. Fez places his hands on her waist and...'

You did as the script said and he did as well. Feeling his hands on your bare waist you looked into his eyes- they were quite gorgeous- and continued on. "You say you want me but you don't act upon it. How am I supposed to be here if you don't open up to me-"

He let go of you and rolled his eyes, "Girl I got shit to do. So you can leave if you finna do allat."

"For fucks SAKE you're- God you're just frustrating! What do you have to do? Go sell? Go talk to Mouse and risk your goddamn life again because there's a drop of blood on money that you stole?! Its so hard to love you and you don't get that!"

"Its hard to love me? Me? Come on. How hard do you think it is to love a bitch with daddy issues that wants to watch Sailor Moon every night- I hate that shit! But I watch it for you- and you just complain about your dad not loving you and how he never coming back? Well maybe you should realize that shits true and move on from it all you do is-"

Your eyes begin to fill with tears and you immediately turned to walk away but were quickly pulled back into Angus- excuse me, Fez’s chest, your back against him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that shit."

You elbowed him in the chest- softly- causing him to groan and let go "You know you meant it. That's it Fez, I'm done." You walked away slowly ruffling your hair-

"Scene! Holyyyyyy wow that was amazing! The passion- are you guys sure you've never acted together before?"

You turned around jokingly bowing as you wiped your tears from the corners of your eyes. Angus laughed and came over to you shaking your hand. "You're good. I like yo' energy too, I hope to see you around set or sum."

You swallowed thickly, if you got this role you could not be this nervous around him everyday.

"It's not hard when I'm acting with someone so talented." You said softly, letting go of his hand after he shook it. He smiled with a chuckle "Thank you, thank you."

There was a strange tension between you two- why? You didn't know exactly, but you knew it wasn't only on your end. You thanked everyone for their time and they said they'd keep in touch. With one last glance at Angus- who had never stopped looking at you- you gave him a gentle smile and then walked out.

You rushed to the bathroom and into a stall, letting out a breath you didn't even know you had been holding in. You thought everything over, the tension, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the look of approval Mary had on her face when you two finished. You'd surprisingly never felt more confident about a role you'd tried out for, and due to that you couldn't seem to stop smiling.

[veliseraptor]

2019 Fanfiction Round-Up

I’ve done one of these every year since 2016, so here we are again. At this point I’d feel weird if I didn’t do it, even if it takes a long ass time to do.

Total Year-Long Wordcount: Here as of 8:20 PM, 421,602 words - which includes some essays and original fiction but is, by and large, mostly fic. 

If you’re curious, that’s 35,133.5 average words per month, and 1,155 words per day. The month I wrote most was 48,006 words (January) and the least was 21,550 (October). I may go into more stats later to compare to my 2017/2018 spreadsheet, because that’s the kind of loser I am.

This year I wrote and posted: This isn’t exact, because it includes chapters of things I wrote as separate fics, but probably something around 60 fics. 

Overall Thoughts

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? 

Less, by a substantial margin. There are a lot of potential reasons for this (a new job that takes a lot more energy and time, me making a concerted effort to socialize more, taking on more difficult projects that require more time/work/effort, a two month horrendous depressive episode) but I’m trying to tell myself that it doesn’t matter why, and it’s totally fine that my total amount written doesn’t match recent years’. Over 400,000 words is still a lot of writing.

What’s your own favorite story of the year? 

This was a hard year, so I’m going to be self-indulgent and pick a few. I remain really, really proud of the fact that I wrote gather frankincense at all, and pretty proud of how it turned out also. good lord turned his back on me was one that I wrote basically all in one go, and I was really pleased with the Natasha POV and getting to write in her voice - I do that shockingly rarely, and haven’t in a while. I really liked both writing that fic and the arc of it - what it did as a story. 

Finally, continuing with the trend of “small fandom fic” which...I wrote a substantial amount of small-fandom fic this year, which pleases me - how this grace thing works. It was in the works for a long, long time and finally was finished this year - it’s the (for lack of a better word) softest Doctrine of Labyrinths fic I’ve written, and quite possibly ever will write. 

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

I wrote in two different fandoms that I hadn’t written in before or hadn’t written for years. Okay, in fairness I did some Doctrine of Labyrinths writing last year, but this year was really the bulk of the recent writing I’ve done for it. Writing for Lymond was a substantially bigger risk. Glad I did it, and I learned that I could do it, but...

I wrote a fic for someone else in second person, which was certainly a risk in a different way.

Overall...I learned that while I can write in first person still, I deeply prefer both third and second person overall. One of those isn’t surprising; the fact that I’ve come to actually really like second person sometimes is more so. 

From my past year of writing, what was….

My most popular story of this year: 

As usual, excluding my multichapter stuff because that skews results a lot - by hits it was how the dead walk; by kudos it was Seams and Scars, and by both comment threads and bookmarks it was Mirror, Mirror. All interesting! Seams and Scars is the most surprising to me, but also pleasing considering how goddamn long that fic took me to write (I’m so glad I finally finished it this year).

Most fun story to write: 

Five Hundred Ways to Discorporate a Demon. Aka the most light-hearted “repetitive character death” fic I’ve ever written. It was just...writing Good Omens fic this year in general was a lot of fun. It’s a departure from my usual voice, and my usual wheelhouse, but probably because of that was really enjoyable to explore. Though in a weird way good lord turned his back on me was also a lot of fun, in the sense of...it was one of those fics that was easy for me to write. It came out smooth and in a way that I liked basically right off the bat, which is rare and a great feeling when it happens.

Story with the single sexiest moment: 

This was kind of a challenging one, actually, because what I find sexy sort of fluctuates based on what I’m in the mood for at the time, but I might go with the sex scene in The Waxing Moon, partly because, as I discovered writing both that fic and An Ever Expanding Circle, I apparently find cocky Thor really sexy. I sort of resent this. (So does Loki.)

Most “Holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story: 

Yeah, I’m going to go with no good doing what I’m told, aka the one where I had a bunch of existential angst about “is this too much? am I going too far?” which...yeah, is always a sign of something considering how high my bar for myself has gotten.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: 

I have a hard time with this question every year. In some way, every story I write shifts my understanding of the characters, or at least deepens it. I guess maybe After the Fire - I dug into Curufin’s head more there than I have in a long time, and since I last did my understanding of him has changed generally. This fic developed more of that changing understanding.

Hardest story to write: 

The Compassion of the Wicked. Even more than gather frankincense, that fic fought me, to the mat, and almost won a number of times. Writing the sex in it was an adventure - I think I noted when I finished it that this is possibly the least explicit fic with explicit sex that I’ve written. Also possibly required the most research, and by “required” I mean “I chose this.” And writing Joleta was...it took me some doing to figure out how to write her, which surprised me a little. 

Anyway, the whole thing was just. A whole barrel of struggle. I’m pretty pleased with the end result, but yeesh.

Biggest Disappointment: 

As usual, in myself, for not working more on my WIPs and not finishing we live until we die. I wanted that to happen this year, I really did, and while I suppose it’s not surprising it didn’t (there was a lot of planning that needed to happen, and continued to need to happen), I’m still disappointed. 

Biggest Surprise: 

Other than “the fact that I wrote Lymond fic at all” and “the fact that people actually read the Lymond fic I wrote”? Probably the continued and aggressive expansion of the Where the Devil Don’t Go verse. I thought it was over after I wrote drown my woes in a lake of fire but then it turned out that there were (checks) five more installments I was going to write, and two more in the works, and one other that is on Tumblr but not cross-posted. 

I did not see that coming at all.

Most Unintentionally Telling Story: 

I never really know how to answer this question. I guess sometimes there is an obvious one, usually meaning “Jesus, Lise, how fucked up can you get” and in that sense it would definitely be no good doing what I’m told, but...I actually think in some ways it might be how the dead walk. It isn’t...exactly the same as my issues, but there are some ways in which it aligns with them in ways that are different from the ones I usually work with when I’m writing Loki.

Favorite Opening Line(s):

1. The first thing that Felix noticed about Malkar was his hands. (The Anvil and the Chain)

2. The moment he was left alone, Maeglin stumbled to his feet, untethered the nearest horse, and set off back toward the smoke and flame still visible on the horizon. (how should I begin)

3. For the first month and a half after Rocket’s friends arrived on Midgard, along with the remains of Asgard’s population, Loki avoided Gamora with the skill and determination of a mouse evading a fox. (came through the jaws of Death)

4. In the summer of the Year of Our Lord 1000, there was a false alarm, brought about by millennial fever both Up and Downstairs, that the Apocalypse was imminent. (Mercy)

5. A long while ago Loki had read, in a book that was now ash, about the formation of storms. (we haven’t slept in years)

Favorite Line(s) from Anywhere:

1. I was lying on my stomach with shackles on my wrists and ankles and the water was rising. Someone, somewhere, was crying. It might have been a ghost. It might have been me. (As I breathe, he burns my lungs like fever)

2. Like my fear of water, fear of Malkar ran in my blood, and was as much a part of me. (The Road to Mourning)

3. “I am not in the mood for indulgence. Is there a purpose to this pageantry, o my Pasha?”

“Save that it is my pleasure?” Gabriel regarded him with a touch of amusement. “You would rather I tied you to a whipping post and had you flogged?”

“You would gain marks for consistency,” Lymond said. (gather frankincense)

4. “Because you are the flaw. You are the fault along which the stone splits. You are what is wrong.” (Mirror, Mirror)

5. “Would you rather I were?” Loki said, and there was something soft and vicious in his voice even with the lingering rasp that made the hair on the back of Clint’s neck all stand on end. “I think not. I am aware that you do not want me here. No doubt you would rather have Thor. That is fine; I would rather you had Thor, too. Don’t think I am not aware of the long and manifold list of my failures. That does not mean I want them enumerated to me by you.” (the enemy of my enemy)

6. “I am too beautiful to die,” Celegorm said with confidence.

But you are going to, Curufin thought. We all are. Condemned as surely as if we were Secondborn. Maybe not now, but... He held his tongue and simply said, “oh, naturally.” Celegorm wheezed a laugh and closed his eyes again. (After the Fire)

7. And yet he misses Thor. No, that is wrong: saying he misses Thor is as inadequate as it would be to say that he misses breathing. He is that central, that vital, that involuntary.

If anyone asked, Loki thinks he would tell them that was why he was running. To prove that he can. (These Vagabond Shoes)

8. The smile, when it came, was sharp. “O Castitas,” Lymond said, “Mater et Virgo, extingue carnales concupiscentias! But enough. For whom this mummer’s show? Do we not know each other better now? For certainly I have known flesh of your flesh, blood of your blood... and she drew mine.” (The Compassion of the Wicked)

9. There was a way Thor had of saying things that made them inarguable. Loki had no idea how he did it - it was as though he spoke the words and it just was, like the world bent itself to suit what he said, only it bent itself so it was as though it had always been true. Loki had always found it maddening. (Speak every man the truth)

10. Everyone got a bit twitchy in the 1300s. People started getting suspicious of the dark glasses. They seemed to think Crowley was hiding something, which he was, but that wasn’t any of their business. (Five Hundred Ways to Discorporate a Demon)

11. This was what the Grandmaster did. He showed you a door, or what looked like a door, and then yanked you back just when it seemed to be in reach. Or proved that it had never been there at all, and what had you been thinking to try to get away, anyway, after everything he’d done for you? (preacher man won’t cut no slack)

12. “You can’t help me,” Loki said, breathless. “There is nothing left to help.”

“That isn’t true,” Thor said weakly. “You are here, aren’t you?”

“Here,” Loki said. “Yes. But I am - I am not myself. I am a cobbled together patchwork of Odin’s making and the Grandmaster’s making and the making of the Void. And yours.” All the feeling had gone from his voice. “You want your brother back. But that person doesn’t exist. If he ever did.” (where I make my home)

Top 5 Scenes from Anywhere You Would Choose to Have Illustrated:

There are a lot of pieces from Mirror, Mirror that I would love to see, but maybe especially the one where Loki is looking at his reflection and notices how sick he appears, when the shadow appears behind him.

Gabriel making Lymond kneel in gather frankincense. Look, I am who I am.

Thor sitting next to ghost!Loki from it slips between my fingers now.

Curufin kneeling (SHUT UP) in front of Finrod with wounded Celegorm in his arms from After the Fire. It could be very Pieta. There’s a lot going on there. I just want it.

Steve and Loki at the top of the waterfall from into the light of a dark black night, just before Loki dives over.

Fic-writing goals for 2020:

Finish we live until we die. This is probably the biggest, most concrete one on my list. 

Write! More! Lymond fic! I have three ideas and I really like all of them - I just need to stop having staring contests and psyching myself out and actually do the writing.

Whittle that WIP list down to at least under 70. Under 65 would be even better.

That’s really all. I’m keeping them modest. Also here is “try to chill out, a little, about your pathological productivity problem” but that’s an ongoing project that maybe doesn’t count for the spirit of this question.

[5sospank]

all these years - ashton one shot

Word Count: 7,407

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut, bestfriend!ashton

Summary: As Luke’s little sister, you grew up with him and his best friends - especially Ashton. He was always around. However, when they left home to tour the world as a band, you lost your brother and someone you had grown to love too much for your own good. A planned trip to visit them on tour is just what you needed.

A/N: so this didn’t exactly turn out as planned, but i’m okay with it. not my favorite thing i’ve written but i hope you guys enjoy :) trying to get back into writing more this summer.

-

From before you could even remember, Ashton was always around. His honey colored hair and jade eyes were a constant staple in your memories. Whether it was passing by in the school hallway, hanging in your basement during your brother Luke’s band practice, or summer days spent getting drunk on the beach, Ashton was there for it all. You had watched each other grow up for years. They were fond times of learning, laughing, and wondering what you would do without one another.

But when Ashton and Luke’s band began to take over the world, you eventually had to live without both of them. It was bittersweet to lose the people you spent all your time with. You often had to remind yourself it was so they could live out their dreams everyday. Still, it hurt when they missed graduations, birthdays, and too many holidays to count. In the beginning, they made time for you when they could, but as time went on, you really only saw your brother on his breaks.

The distance bothered you more than you wanted it to. Years had gone by and they were still on fire. You saw their faces everywhere; billboards, award shows, interviews, magazines, social media. You had certainly moved on from those high school days, but sometimes, those feelings and memories crept up on you.

You supposed that’s what had you reaching out to your brother to schedule some sort of visit.

“You wanna come on tour?” Luke repeated over the phone. Confusion was etched into his voice. You could make out loud background noise, as if it was a bad time and he was busy.

“Well...yeah,” You said, defeated. “It’s been a long time since we’ve done something fun. I thought making the trip would be nice, you know? I can take time off work.”

“Whatever you wanna do, Y/N. You’re always welcome. Just -” Luke cursed on the other line, muttered something to someone else who you figured he was in the room with. “Just have mom reach out to my assistant, alright? She’ll get you on a plane out here whenever. I’m sure Ash would like to see you too.”

You couldn’t help but feel a sudden sense of excitement, even if Luke’s answer wasn’t too enthusiastic. The thought of ditching your normal life to spend a few days on the road with your brother and his band sounded too good at the moment. Even if it was a bit spontaneous, the plans were too enticing to pass up. Plus, there was the mere chance that Ashton would be happy to see you, too.

“Okay, Luke,” you replied. “I guess I’ll see you soon.”

-

One week later, you were checking in to the nicest hotel in Amsterdam.

It was your first time there. Before, you had only seen it in movies and photos, and on Luke and Ashton’s Instagrams, of course. The accents were lovely and the weather was obscenely perfect once you arrived; cool fall air and changing leaves, with locals buttoned up in long coats and hats.

It was just past dinner and the change of time zones left you a bit foggy. You had never dealt well with jet lag and were thinking of ordering room service and staying in for the night. First, you had to head over to Luke’s suite and say hello.

After checking his room info, you slipped on a sweater and headed his way. You weren’t surprised to see security standing outside the door. Luke and the guys usually had guards everywhere these days. They could never be too safe.

He checked your ID and let you in, seeing as you were Luke’s sister and he was expecting you. Loud music instantly greeted you and a case of beer was on the table in the suite’s entrance way, accompanied by solo cups. The decor of the suite was charming and antiquated, and floor-to-ceiling windows provided a great view of the city. Your hotel room certainly didn’t look like this.

“Luke?” You called out, stepping inside. “I’m here.”

You were met with no response. Instead, movement to your right caught your eye, and there was none other than Ashton in a pair of gray sweats and a white tank top. The sweats were slung low on his hips, his arms still scattered with beads of water from a recent shower. His hair was damp and hanging onto his forehead. You had to swallow to keep your jaw from dropping.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” He stuttered out. “Wow, hi. Luke went over to Michael’s room, but he’ll be back in a few.”

You were frozen in place. You couldn’t remember when you had last seen him and it showed in his face. His jaw was a bit harder, age etched into his features slightly. The time evidently suited him. His body was more defined, torso less boyish and lanky. You couldn’t help but stare in awe. It had been so long, yet, the feelings that overcame you were all too familiar.  

“Hey,” You breathed out. “Uh, sorry. He told me to come by.”

“I know, it’s okay. That’s why I stayed back,” he said. “I missed you. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Suddenly, you somewhat uncomfortable under his gaze. He was shamelessly studying you, noting how different you looked as well. Your whole lives, you had always been seen as Luke’s little sister. Some time apart seemed to separate you from that identity. He liked this new you, it seemed; a good kind of different.

You met his eyes again. “I missed you too, Ashton.”

He let out a sigh, almost as if he was unsure of what to say or do next. Instead of speaking, he waved a hand, signaling for you to follow him further into the suite. It was growing dark outside but the room was dimly lit, allowing you to make out the dips and curves and edges of Ashton’s back as you walked behind him. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it messy. You forced yourself to look away.

“You can sit,” He said softly. “Want a beer? Or, like, a drink or something?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know if I’ll be drinking tonight, actually. I’m feeling kind of jet lagged.”

Ashton chuckled lowly, shaking his head. “C’mon, Y/N. I haven’t seen you in so long. You flew out to fucking Amsterdam. Who cares about the jet lag? Come out with us tonight.”

You watched the small smile that toyed at his lips. God, that smile. The look on his face alone was enough to get you to change your mind. That, and his words. He wanted you with them, it seemed.

And suddenly, you were back in high school, feeling that same way you always did when it came to Ashton. You wanted to be with him.

So you said yes.

-

Luke wasn’t nearly as excited to see you as you were to see him. He was already half drunk and complaining about the show they had to play the next day, how tired he was of being on the road. You always found it difficult to have sympathy for him.

After he had come back to the suite to you find you and Ashton staring at each other from opposite sides of the room, Luke joined in on the effort to get you to go out with them. He had boasted the idea of VIP at one of Amsterdam’s best clubs, claiming that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. You kind of agreed with him on that.

Shortly after, you found yourself sipping on a vodka Red Bull, heavy club bass pulsing in your ears. You had gotten ready for the night in record timing, but still, all the guys complained about how long you took.

The VIP section was full of people you didn’t know. Strange men lingered on the flanks of your table, accompanied by girls that Luke snuck in. One had herself stationed on Calum’s lap, nursing an old drink and whispering something in his ear. The pink and blue hues of the neon lights were almost overwhelming. You hadn’t stepped foot on the party scene since your years in college. Clearly you were a bit rusty, and it became evident to you that you were a wallflower in that moment.

“You alright?”

You felt a hand at the small of your back. The touch was comforting, innocent, yet it held so much weight. Your skin warmed at the sensation. It was Ashton.

“I’m good, yeah.” You replied with an overzealous nod once you turned to face him. “Forgot what it’s like to party with you guys.”

He rolled his eyes at your statement, glancing in Luke’s direction. “Wanna come outside with me? I need a smoke.”

You instantly took Ashton up on his offer. Any excuse to get away from your brother’s playboy tendencies was needed.

However, you were almost startled when Ashton took your hand in his, leading you through a crowd of people. He weaved his way to the side entrance of the club. The feeling of his hand on yours burned, but you ignored it, swallowed the thoughts that crept into your head.

He brought the two of you to the side of the door. The night’s cool air nipped at your skin - your outfit wasn’t doing much to keep you warm.

“Here, take my jacket.” Ashton’s stare dropped over you. He evidently saw you shiver.

“No, no, I’m fine -”

“Just take it,” Ashton interjected, shrugging the leather off his shoulders. “Really.”

Reluctantly, you took his jacket and shoved your arms through its sleeves. You knew it was undoubtedly expensive, just from the looks and feel of it. It definitely kept you warmer, however.

You stood in his jacket outside the club. The music wasn’t as loud, just a distant hum, and only a few people lingered around you. The night was dark but the lights from overhead illuminated Ashton’s features. Casts of shadows flickered over his face.

A comfortable silence formed as Ashton retrieved a lighter from his back pocket. He patted his front pockets, finding nothing, until his eyes flickered back to you.

“Cigs.” He muttered.

Your face scrunched up in confusion as he extended his arms forward, as if he was trying to hug you. Instead, he dug around in the pocket of his jacket - the one you were wearing - and pulled out his pack. The sudden proximity to him made your breath catch in your throat. His face was inches from yours until he backed away.

“I never knew you smoked.” You stated dumbly, distracting yourself from the thoughts that began to form in your mind.

“Bad habit I picked up over the years. Well, one of many.” Ashton chuckled emptily. He put a cigarette between his lips, holding his lighter up to the end. Once it was lit, he inhaled deeply, his jaw clenching with the motion.

You forced your stare away and looked down the street instead. People walked by here and there, cars passing on the road.

“You don’t smoke, do you?” Ashton questioned to fill the silence. He exhaled, then brought the cigarette up to his lips again. You found yourself hating how he made the dirty habit look so good.

“No, never.”

He hummed, bemused. “Good. You were always good.”

“I don’t know about that,” You let out a light laugh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“That’s fair. Even though you were three years younger, you always stole the alcohol for everyone, remember?” Ashton grinned. He leaned himself up against the wall next to you.  

“Mom and dad’s liquor collection definitely suffered during our high school years.”

You recalled being a teenager, back when you would have done anything to impress your brother and his friends. They would often throw parties when your parents were gone and Luke always put you in charge of the vodka thievery. It definitely got you into trouble.

“Those were the days,” Ashton murmured, clearly lost in thought. He stomped out his cigarette beneath his black boot. “And look at us now.”

“What,” You paused. “A world-renowned celebrity and a washed up college graduate, in the middle of Amsterdam, avoiding the club?”

“I wasn’t meaning that.” Ashton met your gaze. A frown graced his features.

You were unsure of what to say. You let yourself meet his eyes for a moment longer, before stepping to the side to lean on the wall next to him. His jacket engulfed you, your shoulder against his arm. His height towered over you.

“I’m not a celebrity. Not to you, at least.” Ashton added softly. “You know me.”

You let his words hang in the air between you like an echo. You turned to look at him again, ignoring the way your stomach turned at your new proximity. “Do I know you, though? It’s been so long, Ashton.”

The words you dared to say seemed to cut into him, make him bleed. His brow furrowed, a deep, smoky sigh leaving his lips. “You’ll see by the time you leave. You know me more than most.”

He stood up and didn’t wait for your reply. It was as if he knew you didn’t have one. Your conversation was over, despite the heavy feeling it left in your chest. Your comment seemed to bother him even if that wasn’t your intention.

He waited as you shrugged off his jacket and handed it back to him. He carried it over his arm, taking your hand with the other. His hand was now cold against your own from the air around.

As he led you back through the club, he ignored the invasive stares of those who recognized him. His demeanor was strong and confident, softening once he reached the comfort of his friends. He dropped your hand and replaced it with a fresh drink from a cocktail waitress. Under the neon lights, you decided you really didn’t know him - not anymore.

-

When you reached the hotel again, it was past three in the morning, and you felt your body sinking with exhaustion. You had been awake for too long and the time difference was really getting to you. The drinks you had downed just to tolerate the club weren’t helping, either.

Luke and Calum had left in another security car on their own, having gone home with the girls they entertained for the night. You weren’t really disappointed or surprised. Luke certainly liked to make the most of his nights out. Girls threw themselves at him and Calum - you couldn’t really blame their tendencies.

That left you stumbling into the hotel with Ashton and Michael in tow. You filed into the elevator, fishing around your bag for your room key.

“How upset would your mom be if she knew Luke was still banging a different girl in every country?” Michael broke the silence, a playful smile on his face.

You laughed at his remark. “She’s still waiting for him to bring a girl home.”

“Tell her not to hold her breath, then.” Michael replied.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped out, turning to glance at Ashton in confusion when he didn’t move. You did the same.

“I’m going to walk Y/N to her room.” He stated blankly. “I’ll meet you in the suite.”

Michael nodded and said good night. The doors closed and you were left alone with Ashton again. There was a thick tension that blanketed the air between you that was difficult to ignore. Still, you did your best, focusing your sight on the floor beneath your feet.

Once the elevator reached your stop, you stepped out in front of Ashton. “You didn’t have to walk me here, you know.”

“I wanted to. Luke shouldn’t leave you by yourself.”

You stopped in front of your room number, moving to unlock the door. “It’s alright. I kind of figured it would end up like this.”

“Then why’d you come?” Ashton asked. He followed you into your room without invitation. You didn’t mind.

Immediately, you kicked your heels off, sitting at the foot of the bed. Ashton stood before you, hands in his pockets, concern in his eyes as he studied your face. You recognized that expression. He was always worried about you - protective.

“I don’t know,” You sighed. “It gets old, life at home. The routine of it all.”

Ashton chuckled dryly. He sat down beside you. There was just enough distance between your figures so that your heart didn’t start beating too fast.

“You don’t understand how often I wish for a routine lately. Something constant, you know?” His voice was low.

You turned to look at him. The simple confession struck you. And it all felt so strange - sitting in an Amsterdam hotel room with Ashton, after all these years had gone by where you thought about him endlessly. He was him, but he wasn’t. He had built up this persona that was based so wholly on his career; travelling the world, putting on a brave face, performing to thousands. You found yourself understanding his confession as that sensitivity you used to know back when you were sixteen, back when you would’ve done anything for him. In that moment right there, you still would’ve done anything for him.

“There’s another reason why I came here, Ashton.” You spoke after a moment, without thinking.

He leaned back. Intrigue flashed in his light eyes. “What is it?”

“You. It’s you.”

His mouth fell agape just slightly. You went still, almost shocked at your own words, waiting for him to say anything. Do anything. But he kept quiet, his gaze on yours all the while. You grew nervous under that gaze but didn’t dare look away. The moment was too important to you. You wanted to see him.

The room stopped spinning and time stood still in that fraction of a second when he first leant forward. You had thought about this moment for years and turned it over and over in your mind. You wondered how it would happen, where it would happen - if it would ever happen. And there you were, in your Amsterdam hotel room, and it was happening. He was kissing you.

He was kissing you and you were on fire. Your skin felt hot and your lips melted against his swiftly, tasting the alcohol and cigarettes that stained his tongue. His hands cradled your face, holding you there, wanting this kiss to last forever.

But it didn’t, and you knew it wouldn’t, although it still hurt when he pulled away. You wanted to kiss him all night.

Instead, he let his thumbs slide over your cheeks, one of them swiping over your bottom lip gently. “Good night.”

-

You awoke the next morning, or rather, afternoon, wondering if the night before had really happened, or if it was just some sort of euphoric dream that your jet lagged brain had concocted to mess with you. The feeling that sunk into your bones left you on a high yet also an anxious wreck.

You kissed Ashton; your brother’s best friend and bandmate. Your childhood friend. Someone you grew up with. It was a strange concept to grasp, and part of you wondered if he was thinking about it in the same way you were.

After he said good night, he had just stood up and left your hotel room with one longing glance over his shoulder. You wondered if he wanted to stay, or if he left because he thought it was a mistake. Your brain was thinking in overdrive.

As you laid in bed, you texted Luke about the day’s plans. Everyone had woken up considerably late since the night before was spent drinking excessively. You thought about how Luke and Calum probably spent their mornings kicking out the girls they had won over the night before. Yikes.

Luke notified you that they would send a car from security to pick you up and bring you to the venue later. The band had already woken up early (and hungover) to soundcheck, so you were left to your own devices for the remainder of the afternoon.

You spent that time getting ready for their show, organizing your suitcase since the next day you and the band would be headed to Germany for the next gig. You were only staying for a few days, but being able to make it to more than one country was kind of thrilling to you. It had been a while since you travelled like this.

You put a bit of extra effort into your hair and make up, suddenly feeling like you had someone to impress. You tried not to get too ahead of yourself.

By the time you ordered room service and ate, you were ready to go. Your stomach was churning as you were driven to the venue and escorted into the band’s dressing room. It was usually off limits even for guests, but Luke was kind enough to cut you some slack.

When you entered the dressing room, it was a bit hectic. Your brother was sat shirtless in a chair in front of a mirror getting his hair gelled by someone on their styling team. Michael was on the phone with his fiance, and Calum was chatting with Ashton on a leather sofa. Everyone turned to look at you when you came in.

“Ah, she has risen,” Luke shouted, making eye contact with you through the mirror. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t have to wake up early and kick some strangers out of my bed.”

The guys laughed as Luke flipped the finger in your direction. When you moved to find a seat in the room, you met eyes with Ashton. You couldn’t help it when you looked away quickly and sat down next to Michael.

“So, Y/N, are you excited for the show?” Calum asked you. He sipped on some coffee, clearly feeling a bit tired from the night before.

“Uh, yeah,” You stuttered. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you guys perform.”

“Well, don’t worry, we’ve improved since your mom’s basement.”

You laughed at Calum’s remark, shaking your head. “I came to see you guys, like, two years ago. It hasn’t been that long.”

The conversation died down quickly after, and you became more aware of Ashton’s presence. Neither one of you had said anything to each other yet. Internally, you were panicking. Had you said too much? Was the kiss just a drunken mistake? Was he going to pretend it didn’t happen?

You didn’t know what to make of the situation, but it was eating at you. However, there wasn’t much more time to reflect, as the guys were about to get on stage. You studied them; their outfits, how much they had grown into themselves and found their way. As they filed together to get a photo before heading out, you were overwhelmed with a feeling of pride. They really had made it.

One of their team members escorted you to your seat in the guest section of the audience. There were just as many screaming girls as you had remembered, although it seemed a bit toned down at this point. You couldn’t help it when you joined in when they entered the stage. Luke took the center, with Calum and Michael to his sides. In the back perched at his drum kit was Ashton.

When you looked at him, your heart ached.

-

You were alone in your hotel room for the night. After the show, you had ditched the guys and gone back on your own to pack for the next show and get yourself together. They had insisted on trying some pub downtown, but after the high of their performance, you couldn’t really be bothered. Also, maybe you were avoiding someone.

After taking a hot shower and using subpar hotel shampoo and conditioner, you dressed yourself in an oversized hoodie and shorts. You were climbing onto the bed when you heard a knock on your door, as if on cue.

Once you pulled yourself out of bed, you pushed your hair wet hair out of your face to look through the door’s peephole. Your heart instantly skipped a beat at the sight of who was out there.

“Ashton,” You breathed out his name and swung the door open. “Aren’t you supposed to be out?”

He looked too good. You almost couldn’t meet his eyes. He was dressed in dark pants and his usual boots, a satin button up tucked into an expensive belt. Short sleeves hugged his biceps, showing off the muscles beneath his exposed skin. His hair had been styled neatly after a post-show shower. A few strands hung down onto his forehead effortlessly, and you realized that your current look didn’t exactly live up to his.

When he spoke, his voice was low, hesitant. “I...uh, wanted to talk to you.”

Your brow furrowed at his tone. You were instantly nervous - those words usually never signaled that something good was about to happen. Given last night’s circumstances, you automatically assumed the worst. Still, you wanted to hear what he had to say.

You stepped aside, nodding. “Okay. Come in, then.”

You watched as Ashton strode into your room. His walk was slow, as if every step he took, he was unsure of. He kept running his fingers through his neatly combed hair, ruining it, but he didn’t seem to care about his appearance right then. He didn’t seem to realize how handsome he looked.

He turned and leaned back against the dresser, eyes following your figure as you crossed the room to sit before him on the foot of your bed. You noted how he didn’t sit beside you, like the night before. He kept his distance.

“Yesterday,” He began. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. That shouldn’t have happened.”

You stared at him blankly, despite the heavy weight that crushed your chest. His words stung. They were plainly stated and blunt as if he was simply trying to rip off the band-aid. You couldn’t bring yourself to reply, so he inevitably continued.

“I was just kind of overwhelmed, you know? I haven’t seen you in years even though you used to be one of my best friends. Then Luke drops on me that you’re spending a few days on tour, and you walk in...and you’re beautiful, really beautiful. More than I remembered.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. You didn’t know what to make of this conversation, or where it was going. It was hard to understand if he was regretting the night before or if he was justifying it. The confusion etched into his features seemed to mirror his thoughts.

With a sigh, you decided to speak. “Ashton -”

“No, just listen,” He interrupted. “Hear me out.”

“Alright.”

“I can’t have feelings for you like that. You’re my best friend’s little sister. I’ve known you my whole life, it feels. It’s wrong, and I’m sorry.”

You knew that the hurt you were feeling was showing on your face, because instantly, the look in Ashton’s eyes softened. He didn’t want to upset you - you knew that. But you couldn’t help how he was dismissing the moment you shared, the words you spoke to him, just because the situation seemed wrong by technicality. It certainly didn’t feel wrong. Not to you, at least.

Through the disappointment and pain you were simultaneously feeling, all you could do was stare. Ashton had stopped speaking momentarily. He looked as if he wanted to say more, as if the words were on the tip of his tongue, clouding his mind. However, he closed the space between the two of you, and took a seat next to you on the bed. You registered this as some sort of surrender.

When he spoke again, his voice was softer, more gentle. A whisper at your skin.

“But I don’t care. And I want you to know that.”

You snapped to meet his gaze. You knew your eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape. You had wanted to say so much when you first registered his words, but now, your mind drew a blank. He had feelings for you. After all these years, he had feelings for you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to conjure up a reply. Instead, you took his face between your hands, pressed your lips to his. He was surprised at first but grew to settle into your kiss almost immediately. His hands found your waist and urged you closer; he needed you there.

Your knees knocked and the kiss was heated and fast. You swallowed his breaths as his hands danced up your waist, feeling and feeling and feeling. You let him pull you into his lap so that each of your thighs straddled him.

As his tongue ran over yours, you found trouble processing what was happening. You thought about being sixteen years old and loving him with everything in you, but doing nothing about it. You thought about when he left home for the road and didn’t look back. You thought about how your heart was broken, but he was now stitching it back together. And he had felt this way all along, you realized.

His grip was strong on your hips as you leaned down to kiss him with a fervor that was unfamiliar to you. Your hands were in his hair, tugging, relishing everything he was giving you in that moment. There was so much to say yet nothing to say at all.

Ashton slowly backed down so that he was laying on the mattress, your figure looming over his. Your kisses came to an abrupt halt at once; your eyes flew open, landing on his. The green was darker, pupils blown, stare wide and wild.

The way he looked up at you sent your stomach into somersaults. You leaned down to kiss him again, but he stopped you.

“Wait,” His voice was strained. “Do - do you want this?”

“Ashton, I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen years old.”

He smiled subtly. It was just the twitch of his mouth ends, but it meant so much to you. He reached up, tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, and kissed you shortly. “I wanted to hear that.”

You couldn’t help yourself when you leaned down to kiss him again. This time it was slower, sweeter, and the both of you were savoring every second of it. His hands traveled down your back, over your spine, slipping beneath your hoodie to feel the warmth of your skin. Everywhere his fingertips touched, goosebumps rose in their wake. He was affecting you so heavily in just moments.

The room around you was quiet aside from the quiet noise of your kisses. Ashton’s lips moved slowly against yours. When he pulled away to move you onto your back so you were the one beneath him, you finally got a real look at his appearance. His hair was disheveled and cheeks slightly flushed, eyes hooded. He was unreal.

His next move was felt at your navel, where his fingers were tugging gently on the hem of your sweatshirt. You watched the expression on his face change as you allowed him to pull it over your head and off, exposing your bare chest. His eyes raked over your torso, hands following suit, trailing up over your stomach, landing on your breasts. His breathing was heavy when he moved to reconnect your lips.

Something was growing in the pit of your stomach as he touched you, explored your body in the ways he had thought about too many times to admit. You couldn’t help yourself once you began unbuttoning his shirt until it was left open, showcasing the ridges of his abdomen, the light hairs on his chest. He moved back to shrug it off completely. In the dim light of the hotel room, he took your breath away.

You pulled him back to you and let your touch trail over the wide expanse of his back. His body was firm, muscled beneath your hands. You let yourself focus on the sensation of his warmth as his lips trailed down the hollow of your throat; kissing, sucking, nipping. Your back arched into the feeling subconsciously as you released a pent up breath.

“Always been so pretty,” Ashton murmured against your collarbone. He lifted his head. “Want you to feel how much I’ve wanted this.”

You looked at him through hazy eyes. He lifted himself so he was on his knees on the bed, his stature looming over you as you felt strangely exposed before him. You watched idly as his hands moved toward the buckle of his belt, unclasping it with ease, before moving to the button of his jeans.

“Let me,” You whispered.

His eyes flickered down to you. They held an intensity that was foreign to you. It was still Ashton, but you had yet to see him like this.

You noticed the obvious strain against his jeans as you leaned up onto your elbows. Your fingers shook slightly as you snapped open the button, followed by the drag of his zipper. He helped you in pulling the denim down just enough, allowing you the freedom to dip your hand beneath the waistband of his briefs.

“Feel that?” He glanced at you.

You nodded slowly, your eyes locked on him. He was hard beneath your touch as your hand wrapped around his length and squeezed gently. You immediately felt how badly he wanted you.

Absently, you shifted so that you were laying on your front before him, Ashton still propped on his knees. His lips were parted, hands running through his hair as you smoothly jerked him before bringing his tip to your lips. You couldn’t help yourself when you licked at it, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.

“Fuck,” He breathed out. His hands moved to push your hair away from your face.

You lowered your mouth down his length, hollowing your cheeks and sucking to accommodate him. His abdomen tensed as your nose became nearly level with it. Tears perked up in your eyes until you pulled back, then continued the motion all over again, bobbing your head at a steady pace.

His hands gripped at the roots of your hair without him even realizing. He threw his head back as you sucked him off, completely reveling in the pleasure of your mouth on him. He was having trouble believing that this moment was truly happening; you, with him, just like this.

Ashton cursed under his breath. “Just like that, baby.” He encouraged.

His words urged you to increase your pace just slightly. You took his length in your hand, swirled your tongue around his tip, listening to the way he reacted to your movements. He was starting to sweat and his body was tense. You knew that this wouldn’t last long for him.

Still, you lowered your mouth again until you were deepthroating him, bringing your touch down to his balls. You squeezed gently, released them as you gagged. Ashton’s grip on your hair loosened as you did so, his voice wrecked as he mumbled, “Good girl.”

The praise turned you on more than you anticipated. You could feel yourself craving him between your legs - even more so when he pulled you up to kiss him roughly. It was sloppy and haphazard, but you didn’t care. He was so immersed in the moment and you knew he wanted to return the favor.

“Lay down for me, alright?” Ashton said. “Wanna make you feel good.”

You nodded in compliance. Your eyes remained on his as you backed onto the mattress, still in nothing but your shorts. His chest was now flushed red, his jeans still hiked around his thighs, cock standing at its peak. He looked too good for you to fathom. You could only think about all the ways you wanted him; how you would let him do anything to you in that moment.

Ashton shifted so that he was pinning your hips to the bed. He pulled your shorts down quickly, ditching them onto the mattress beside you. His eyes danced wildly over your body, drinking you in.

You watched him with ease as he pushed your legs apart, twining them over his arms and on each side of his head. He studied your reactions as he kissed up the insides of your thighs, painfully slowly, making you twitch beneath him with anticipation.

“Ashton,” You urged, your voice sounding unfamiliar to you.

He didn’t say anything - just pushed his face forward, flattening his tongue on your center, licking upward in one swift motion. You immediately shut your eyes at the sensation, your hips involuntarily jutting upward. He welcomed the movement, continuing the circling of his tongue.

You gripped the comforter beneath you as Ashton worked at your center. He sucked on your clit sporadically, occasionally moving to your thighs to tease you. You were worked up in seconds, biting down on your lip to keep from yelling out. He knew exactly what he was doing.

A curse tumbled from your mouth when he abruptly slipped two fingers into your entrance. He continued with his mouth at your clit, licking and licking as he stared up at you. You found it hard to focus on this as he worked on pumping his fingers in and out, curling to try and reach your g-spot.

He didn’t remove his mouth from your center once as he moved his fingers skillfully. You were practically whining from the sensation, giving him a strong sense of satisfaction as your body writhed beneath him. He tried to keep you still with his free hand, extending it over your abdomen, feeling you tense beneath him.

He only lifted his head once to speak. “Tell me when you come for me.”

You nodded frantically - it was all you could manage in the moment. Your face was contorted as he increased the pace of his fingers inside you.

“I’m coming,” You exhaled. The deadly combination of his fingers and his tongue was what sent you over the edge. He removed his fingers as your body pulsed, leaving his mouth to finish the job, to truly taste you.

You felt yourself twitch under him as he licked at your center once more, his hands smoothing over the skin of your thighs. He savored every second of your orgasm; watched you unravel with a feeling of pride that he could do that to you.

As you let out a deep breath, your body finally relaxed beneath him. Ashton said nothing as he lifted his head, sitting back to look at you in the aftermath of your climax. Despite the exhaustion you felt from such an intense pleasure, you still craved him.

“C’mere,” You breathed out. “God.”

He chuckled lowly, shifting to kiss your neck again. “That good?”

“Too good.”

Ashton ran his fingers down your arm, watching your skin erupt into goosebumps. “Just you wait.”

You leaned in to kiss him. The gesture was slow, allowing you to really ease into his taste. You rolled onto your side to trail your fingertips down his torso, feeling the dips and curves and edges. He immediately groaned into your mouth once you wrapped your hands around his length, stroking once more while he kicked his jeans off the rest of the way.

“You gonna let me fuck you just as good?” He mumbled against your lips.

You stopped your movements. “Please.”

The word itself was all it took for Ashton to pull your body against his, so that your back was flush to his front. He lifted one of your legs, held it there, and then moved so that he could run the tip of his cock against your entrance. You shivered as you waited for him to push inside, and when he did, you couldn’t help the explicit moan you released.

“My God, baby.” Ashton’s voice was strained against your ear.

He used his tight grip on your hip as leverage to push into you completely, feeling you stretch around him. The pressure in your lower abdomen was intense as your walls contracted around him, adjusting. The sensation was overwhelming.

You clenched your jaw. “So big, Ash.”

He groaned again at your words, his forehead pressed against the back of your shoulder. He pulled out almost completely, then pushed back in before he began to develop a rhythm. Your eyes rolled back with the pleasure.

You felt him thrust into you more pointedly with each passing second. He was trying to focus on your pleasure as well as his own, but it seemed difficult for him, as he had been waiting for this moment for too long. The both of you had waited for it.

When he spoke into your ear again, his tone was wrecked, a low grit. “Look straight. The mirror.”

You followed his directions to see the mirror that was just before the bed. You became familiar with your reflections through your blurred vision. The sight was enough to make your breath catch in your throat. Ashton’s arms were so strong, holding you steady, his body glistening in a light layer of sweat as he fucked into you. You looked small before him as he held you on your side, enjoying the proximity and pleasure. It was deeply enticing to watch the intimacy play out before you.

When your eyes locked in the reflection, you bit your lip absently. The way he moved with you effortlessly was just an illustration of the chemistry you shared. It was intoxicating; the way it felt as though your bodies were made for this. You wondered how you spent so many years wishing for it, just wasting time.

When he nudged you to lay on your back, you braced yourself for the way he would make you feel with the new angle. “I need to see you.” He said in undertone.

He held himself up over you on his arms, relying on the shift of his hips on their own. You moaned at how he moved into you so deeply, so intensely. It was too much to see his face level above yours. His brow was furrowed and a vein protruded from his neck, his jaw set and locked. Your stomach flipped as his pace decreased subtly. He was slowing it down.

“Wanna make this last,” He gritted out. “Look so pretty.”

“Feels so good, Ashton.”

“Wanted this for too long, baby.” He admitted.

You could tell he was getting lost in the moment as his words grew more difficult to decipher. You wanted to cry out in pleasure as he moved his hips more pointedly, each thrust feeling more deliberate and deeper. You arched up into him, allowing him to move into you at the perfect angle, making you feel dizzy in the head.

“Gonna come soon,” Ashton told you. His voice was hoarse.

You turned your head, watched in the mirror as he focused on fucking you. He dipped his head down to kiss at your neck, sponging his lips over the skin, his body as close to you as physically possible. In the mirror, his back was broad and tense, hair hanging into his face. His thrusts were growing shorter.

You felt your climax approaching with every move. You succumbed to the pleasure, let it wash over you as your walls squeezed around his length with the feeling. Ashton groaned at the sensation, letting out a string of curses as you came around him without warning.

“That’s it,” He murmured.

Ashton pulled out of you quickly, stroking himself as shifted on the mattress and finished himself off. He came in stripes over your stomach. Until he gave you everything he had, your chests rose and fell quickly with the heat of the moment.

He allowed himself to collapse onto the mattress. When your eyes locked, it felt different, this time - as if the both of you had shared something that was unique to one another. As Ashton spoke, you knew things wouldn’t be the same anymore.

“I’ve been in love with you all these years, too.” He said. “You know me more than most, baby. I told you that.”

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Wet Sugar” [Part 3 of 30]

Summary: Erik spends a night out on the town with Klaue’s men but returns to the compound to face some discord with Yani...

Mature audience only. NSFW.

Welcome to new folks coming aboard the party train! What it do to the folks who’ve been hanging with me for a minute! Next update coming in the next few days. Comic-Con is happening and I have some Afrofuturism stuff to do in town, so spending this time getting Part 4 together. Shout out to anyone in Chicago going to WakandaCon! Show out!

"Can't do without you for sure Amount a place I and I explore Still nuh find nobody else I adore Dem cyaan stop we, yeah Yuh love a sumn wah mi have to protect You are my balance and my ease to mi stress Your vibration never fail me yet Wull on pon me, yea…"

Jada Kingdom - "Wull On"

The bartender in front of Erik was quite generous with the hard liquor inside the mixed drinks she prepared for Klaue's men.

The large glass in Erik's hand was called a Voodoo Hurricane filled with three types of Cruzan rum, pineapple juice, and grenadine syrup. The ash-blonde white woman tending the bar gave it to Erik to try for free when he didn't like the last drink that she mixed for him. Polk, Huntsman, and three other of Klaue's men, two white Zambian born men named Beatty and Gertz, and another Black American named Shipley, sat at the bar with him slinging back shots and loud banter.

The upscale pool bar they sat in was part of a Marriott five-star hotel chain on Frenchman's Reef, a good ten-minute drive from the compound. A mostly white crowd mixed and mingled around them, and Erik saw right away why the men wanted to come here. Lots of Barbie doll looking jump-offs that were there for a good time and were not shy soliciting it. Several times he and Shipley, in particular, had been approached and chatted up.

Erik caught Polk side-eying him and Shipley. All three of them were the only Black men on Klaue's team, and although Polk was attractive, more muscular and taller than Erik and Shipley, his mack game was lacking. He sat at the bar just thinking a tight ass muscle shirt and expensive jewelry around his neck and finger was enough to attract and keep women. He lacked the verbal finesse to keep the women interested, overtalking and butting in whenever anyone else had a thought to share. He tried too fucking hard to be the "it" guy among them.

That shit always irritated Erik when he hung out with other men. Niggas couldn't stay in their lane and always overcompensated when they felt they were lacking. The nigga was cringy as fuck.

Shipley was more adept at chopping it up and making the ladies feel comfortable, but dude was a colorist and ignored the non-white darker women hanging around them. Erik did his best to mind his business and enjoy being out for a change, even tolerating the bullshit music the pool D.J. was playing.

The few Black women that did roll up to say hello were jaw jacking Beatty who looked like a basement rate Captain America. He looked no different than any Cali white boy Erik knew back home, but his baby blues and neat haircut made him attractive to them. The fact that his hair was cut exactly like Steve Rogers was the only real game he had, along with the teal silky pec-clinging shirt he wore. And what did he care if some Black women wanted to get that basic vanilla substitute?

The Voodoo Hurricane was pretty good and he ordered another much to the delight of the bartender who seemed intimidated by his judgment of the first bad drink she suggested.

Another group of women entered the infinity pool area, and two of them were Black and not staring at Beatty. They were checking for him. Little furtive glances his way as they eased past the vista view of the ocean, their spring dresses billowing in the soft breeze.

Erik allowed his eye to wander over them both, and the drink coursing through his body warmed up thoughts of fucking later on. He was on the prowl.

The women he eyed made their round of the pool and went to stand near the edge of a lounge area filled with plush seats. Shipley noticed the women Erik was watching.

"That looks like a boss crew," Shipley said.

"Co-sign," Erik said.

Shipley made comments on each woman like he was going down a shopping list.

"That one in the white, she would be a keeper, but…" Shipley sucked in a breath.

"But what?" Erik asked sipping his drink.

"She got a little too much in the trunk, bruh."

"Nigga, is you on crack? You can't ever have too much ass," Erik corrected, rolling his eyes.

"I heard that!" Polk said, trying to wedge himself into their conversation.

Shipley didn't even make a note on the darker-skinned black woman standing next to the lighter-skinned woman they were peeping.

"The girl in the green is more your body-type," Erik said, wanting to see what this dude would say about her, "She got that good smooth skin, and that thigh gap shit you like, player," he said.

Shipley's nose crinkled.

"She aight…"

"Aight? You buggin'," Erik said.

"That's a dime piece for sure," Polk said.

"If you say so," Shipley said looking away from her.

Polk gave Erik a look, and Erik smirked.

"You don't like the sistas?" Polk asked.

Shipley gave out an exasperated sigh as if he'd had this conversation before.

"I like Black women," Shipley said.

"What's wrong with that one then?"

Polk was pushing him, giving Erik his own sly smile because they both wanted to hear Shipley say it with his chest.

"Nothing," Shipley said.

"Nothin'? She the finest one out the bunch," Erik said.

"I said she was aight," Shipley said.

"I'm going in fellas, wish me luck," Beatty said as he picked up a whiskey sour and meandered over to the new women.

"Hold on, I'm coming over too," Polk said.

Erik watched them leave and his eye caught Klaue walking in with a forty-ish looking white woman with loose sienna hair. Wearing a light linen suit with his hair freshly trimmed, Klaue actually looked pretty decent stepping out.

"Gentlemen," Klaue said as he joined them at the bar.

Erik and the other men raised their glasses to him.

"Amy, these are some of my associates," Klaue said as he swung his arm around Amy's waist. Erik nodded at her as Klaue gave her their names.

"Seems really active tonight. I know a couple of cruise ships pulled in," Klaue said while eyeballing other women.

Huntsman was getting a little more blitzed than everyone else, a never-ending parade of shot glasses going down his gullet.

"Whoa, the night is still young Huntsman," Klaue said. The tone of his voice let Erik and Huntsman know that Klaue wasn't pleased with how he was looking at that moment.

"I'm good, Boss," Huntsman said.

"Let's keep it that way, shall we?" Klaue said slapping Huntsman on his back that was an obvious warning.

Klaue glanced at Erik.

"Yo, Huntsman, let's go for a walk buddy. Check out the scene a little more," Erik said.

He was glad that he shot an email to Tahir to get him to the island. With some behind the scenes maneuvering, Erik believed he might be able to get some strings pulled to have Tahir get into Africa not by plane, but by boat.

Huntsman grumbled about leaving the bar, but the look in Klaue's eyes must've made him reconsider giving lip.

Erik led Huntsman around the pool to get a closer look at some of the cruise ships that had docked in the distance.

"What's it like being the golden boy?" Huntsman asked.

"Golden boy?" Erik said.

"Klaue's new errand boy. I know you're assigned to keep me in line. That used to be my job."

"Well then get your shit together before you get replaced," Erik said keeping it one hundred.

"Replaced? I've been with Klaue for a long time—"

"Then you oughta know how to act. Out here being sloppy—"

Huntsman stepped close to him, his chest bumping Erik's as an angry sneer creased his lips.

"Kaffir—"

"I got your nigga right here," Erik hissed, his lips curling up as he shoved his chest back into Huntsman's.

"Hi."

Erik and Hunstman both turned to see the attractive black woman that Shipley dismissed. Up close she was even prettier, her make-up using gold tint to highlight the richness of her melanin. Her big false eyelashes gave her face a glamorous look like she had spent a whole day getting ready to flaunt her beauty.

"Your friends over there were heading into the hotel restaurant to share some appetizers and drinks and asked me to let you know," she said.

Erik's eyes darted over her head and he saw Polk and Shipley waving them over with the other five women standing with them.

"Sounds like a plan," Erik said. He slapped his hand on Huntsman's shoulder, "What do you say, Buddy?"

Erik gave the man a look to let him know he didn't have a choice. Huntsman smiled at the woman.

"I think I'm a lucky man to see such a lovely woman come gather us," Huntsman said. He held out his arm for her. The woman looked at Erik, a slight tinge of disappointment sliding across her face.

"Sheryl, come on, there's a table ready for us."

A thin white brunette came over and grabbed Sheryl's hand.

"Are you guys coming?" The brunette asked.

Erik blocked Huntsman as he stepped in front of Sheryl.

"The more the merrier," Erik said.

Sheryl smiled and Erik followed the two women. He could hear Huntsman grumbling and catching up to them from behind.

###

Erik pretended to be engaged with the impromptu gathering inside the hotel restaurant. He sat near Huntsman to keep an eye on him and Klaue seemed to be pleased that the man had calmed down on drinking, sipping ginger ale and water instead. The women seemed thrilled to be around the dullest men Erik ever had the displeasure of suffering drinks and food with. The one thing that kept Erik from going bonkers was that he would get to spend more time with Klaue alone the next day to lay out more groundwork for Angola. They would start planning after lunch and Erik would begin the patient task of teasing out information about Klaue that he could use to keep the man by his side.

One of the servers covering their large group came over to take fresh drink orders. Erik asked for bourbon on the rocks, but after the server left, he changed his mind. He left the table and went to the restaurant bar to catch the slender Black woman with the thin microbraids who took his drink order.

"Excuse me, could I change my bourbon to a rum and coke?"

"Sure," the woman said.

"I'll take it here at the bar," Erik said, needing a break. He was bored and ready to leave. He could hear Klaue being the life of the party, and his woman Amy was laughing at everything he said. Checking out the space, the indoor crowd was full of middle-aged white wealthy tourists and a sprinkling of people of color.

"Here you go," The server said handing him his rum and coke. Her smile was charming and a sincere warmth emanated from her. He leaned in toward her.

"This ain't really my scene. When you go out to kick back and have fun, where do you go?" he asked.

The server leaned her arm on the bar as the bartender began to place her drink orders on her serving tray.

"Places to drink or dance?" she asked.

"Both."

"There's a couple of clubs near the port if you don't want to travel far. What kind of music do you like?"

"Black people," he said smiling at her.

She cracked up.

"Okay, I hear you."

"I know you have to work," he said pulling out his cell phone, "can I have your number and you text me some places?"

"Sure," she said giving him an accusatory look.

"Listen, I'm not trying to use this as a ploy to pick you up or nothin'. I see you have a ring on your finger, Ma."

The woman grinned.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Eva."

"Erik," he said holding out his hand for her to shake.

"I get off work in an hour and some of my friends working here with me are going to a spot you might like."

"I can catch a cab and follow you there," Erik said excited that the night was looking better.

"Tell you what, meet me in front of the hotel in an hour and we'll show you a good time."

She picked up her tray of drinks.

"See you in an hour, Eva."

Erik watched her walk over to their table as Sheryl approached him with one of her friends, an Asian woman named Michelle who had playful eyes and a bubbly personality.

"Running away from us?" Sheryl said.

"Actually, I am going to bounce in a bit," he said.

"Where to?" Michelle asked.

Shit, how to leave without getting anchored to them…

"Meeting up with some folks I made plans with earlier," he said.

"Ah, too bad, we were going to go hang out in town," Sheryl said.

"Yeah, too bad," he said taking a big swig of his rum and coke.

The bar was filling up and the restaurant was catching the final late-night crowd. Erik strolled over to the hotel registration desk and reserved a room. One of Klaue's compound rules was no outside people coming into their world. If the guys wanted to have a little nookie action, they had to keep it outside. Erik decided to be preemptive so it wouldn't be obvious if he did hook up with someone. He texted Klaue to let him know he was leaving.

True to her word Eva and three of her co-workers met him out front. She and her friends were dressed up for dancing. Introductions were given and when Eva's fourth friend showed up with a car, Erik flagged down a cab to follow them.

The spot they were going to wasn't far and Erik waited for them in front of the club while they parked. He went through their names in his head so he wouldn't mix them up, and when they saw him waiting for them, he saw Eva nudge one of her friend's shoulders and the other woman had a shy grin on her face as her eyes snuck glances at him. The bass was already rattling the windows of the place and when Erik followed them inside, he felt right at home. He ordered the women drinks and they grabbed some open seating which was easy because the dance floor was packed.

"You wasn't lying," Erik said very loud so Eva could hear him.

He spent time talking to them all before he was ready to get on the floor. He asked the woman who kept sneaking peeks at him to dance, and he saw a big grin spread on Eva's face.

The woman, Bernadette was cute and gregarious and Erik had fun dancing with her even though it was hard to really groove with so many people around them. They must've hit the Hip Hop segment of the music because the beats kept banging hardcore.

Erik rolled up the sleeves of his thin cotton shirt and Bernadette's eyes grew big when she saw his scars. There was the momentary look of disgust that some people gave him, but then she saw the uniformity of the markings were even on both arms. Her eyes sought his, and he just smiled at her. His eyes flitted around the room and he caught the attention of another woman who was scoping him hard as she rocked her body against a thin brotha with locs longer than Erik's. Her eyes dragged up and down his body. The keloids didn't even make her blink.

The music segued into dancehall and the woman left the guy she was grinding on and walked past Erik. She let her arm brush against his back and he chuckled, but he kept dancing with Bernadette who now didn't appear to care about his scars as she wound her hips and turned around. She tossed her ass back on him and he kept a polite distance between them.

Eva and the rest of her friends joined them and he left them to go to the bar after a few songs played.

He asked for bottled water to keep his head clear and watched the crowd for a moment. The place was full of baddies, and Erik spent time admiring all the shapes and sizes and colors. The music was not for amateurs and he found his hips rocking and his feet lifting in time to the big sounds vibrating his body.

Ninety minutes in, he spotted the woman who needed to be with him. He had noticed her after he went to the restroom, and after sharing another round of drinks with Eva and company.

Tall, thick black locs pulled into a high pigtail that cascaded down her back, her dark brown skin shimmered with sweat and good health. Her thin orange halter top covered tangerine-sized breasts. Her top half was runway model, but that bottom half was hood booty. There was something regal about her that caught his attention. Her whole demeanor screamed Queen and royal badness.

Fuck it.

He sauntered over and asked her to dance.

Her name was Isis and her fingers had no problem trailing up his arms, feeling his scars before she was rubbing her hands on the wide planes of his chest and wrapping her fingers around the nape of his neck. He held three fingers on her waist as an old school lovers rock thumped around them.

They were stuck together the rest of the night, and she had no problem hopping into a cab with him and returning to the Marriott.

He had plenty of condoms on him, and after they showered together and he had her on top of him between the cool sheets of the hotel bed, he realized that being regal on the dance floor didn't always translate to regal sex. She rode his dick like she was trying to film a low-budget porno. It would almost be comical if it weren't for the fact that he was really trying to have good sex.

"Slow down, baby," he whispered as she bounced on him like she was the energizer bunny.

"You're fucking me so good!" she cried out, and he knew this was a lie because he was barely moving because she was so busy trying to do him instead of just being in the moment with him. When he was younger, he was into fucking hard and fast all the time and switching positions constantly, but his grown ass knew how to give the real deal now, and this woman was doing too much for no damn reason.

"Isis, Ma…take your time. We have all night."

He sat up and gripped her shoulders forcing her to stop moving.

"Let me enjoy you, baby," he said circling his hips slowly and thrusting up in unexpected intervals.

His full lips took time to suckle and kiss each small breast, his tongue licking her nipples and his teeth grazing them to make her feel instead of just doing.

"Look how beautiful you are," he whispered to her, raising her up and down by her hips. Her eyes watched his and he saw the internal shift taking over within her. She started wiggling on him again, but this time with intentional moves that were done to help her receive pleasure from him.

"That's it…yeah…just like that…give me that pretty pussy…"

She groaned and her head dropped foreword. When she bounced on him now, it was so much better. He felt his dick sliding up into her easier, his condom slick with fresh wetness from her. Her body was getting in tune with his. Finally.

He made Isis cum twice before he took her from behind finding much-needed release as he filled up the condom, happy to not work out his hand for a change. Isis curled up on him after he disposed of the condom, and he thought of having another tryst, but the passion just wasn't there for him. He wanted to leave and go back to the compound, but he also didn't feel like getting dressed and leaving at three in the morning looking for a cab.

He spent the rest of the early morning listening to Isis breathe on his chest, and when the sun rose, he gave her cab money to return home. She wanted them to have breakfast in the restaurant together, but he told her he had to do a conference call within the hour. They went through the motions of exchanging cell numbers, but the moment she left, he deleted her contact info and went back to sleep.

###

Jamie the compound guard opened the front gate and allowed Kendall and the rest of the three-man gardening crew to drive in.

Yani stood near Jamie waiting to give detailed instructions to her cousin and his co-workers. Klaue was very particular about what he wanted to be done, and she wanted to make sure her cousin stayed within the lines. They were still on a trial basis with the man ever since he fired his last gardener for uprooting some prized yellow cedar and passion fruit flowers that he wanted to grow randomly around the compound. Klaue had a need to have the wild and cultivated plant life side by side.

"Hold up, Kendall," Yani said, stopping him from driving over to the garage.

"Kendall!"

Yani looked over her shoulder and saw Klaue walking up from the front house entrance.

"Hello, Mr. Klaue," Kendall called out.

Yani felt a little nervous watching the man approach them. He wore khaki shorts and a yellow polo shirt, his hair slicked back from being in the shower.

"Did you do something?" Yani hissed under her breath and Kendall shook his head. The other two gardeners shook their heads too.

"Hi, guys. Listen, do you think it would be possible to transplant some pencil bush over to the lower house, like right near the grand window?"

Relieved that nothing had happened to jeopardize their Aunt's reputation for recommending Kendall and crew, Yani backed away from the truck and noticed Erik walking through the front gate. Dark shades covered his eyes and his clothes looked a bit rumpled. His locs were pulled back by a dark hair tie.

"Look what the cat dragged in!" Klaue chuckled.

Kendall drove the truck past them and Yani hung back to be nosey. She didn't see Erik at breakfast when she arrived that morning so she assumed he had slept in. But when the men showed up like this, it only meant one thing: they had been out all night.

Yani wondered what type of woman he would pick up after two days of being on the island. Some fellow tourist, or a local? She knew she should probably get back to the kitchen to help Leona finish chopping food for dinner and organizing the shopping they needed to do to get ready for the rest of the men that were due to arrive in a few days, but Erik took off his sunglasses and the sly look in his eye when he smiled at Klaue made her stay there. Why did his walk of shame look so shameless?

"So none of those beauties we were with last night were good enough for you?" Klaue asked.

"I just needed to get out for a minute."

"Where'd you end up going?"

"A place over in West Charlotte Amalie…Rush…"

Yani felt her lips part when he said that. Rush was the spot for locals. Her people in particular. How did he find it?

"Miss Leona has some lunch saved for you. We can meet up at my place at two. The rest of the guys went snorkeling in Megan's Bay, so we will be able to speak privately….Yani…"

Klaue turned his gaze on her and Yani felt very self-conscious when Erik regarded her too.

"Yes, Mr. Klaue," she said straightening her back, wishing she had fixed the cuff of her red track pants or at least ironed a t-shirt instead of just grabbing the clean one folded over the balcony to dry at her Aunt's apartment.

Klaue stepped closer to her.

"I saw on the gate surveillance streams that you had your baby here the other day. I know I have made myself clear about having outsiders on site. Correct?"

Yani felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment.

"Yes, Mr. Klaue. I had a family emergency. Won't happen again."

"Good. Killmonger. Two."

Klaue left them standing there. She wanted to run into the kitchen and hide, her eyes couldn't even look Erik in his face. He only slipped his shades back on and walked past her, not even speaking.

She trailed behind him into the front house and he ended up going to where she was headed. The kitchen. Leona wore disposable food prep gloves while slicing up bell peppers and cucumbers near the garbage disposal. She stopped cutting when she saw Erik's face and a smile beamed from her.

"Mr. Killmonger, I have a sandwich and fruit salad saved for you."

Yani watched her Aunt head to the refrigerator.

"I can get it Miss Leona, don't let me interrupt you," he said washing his hands in the sink and then opening the fridge door. He pulled out a turkey on croissant plate and a small bowl of mixed fruit. He grabbed a soda and sat at the kitchen table. Yani washed her hands then slipped on gloves herself.

"Mr. Killmonger, go enjoy your meal out on the patio. We're going to be cutting up onions soon. You don't want to be crying in here with us," Leona said.

"I'm good. Don't mind me, cut away."

Leona smiled again and Yani rolled her eyes at her Aunt. She grabbed a clean cutting board along with several red onions and moved to the far end of the kitchen counter where a small cutting table stood.

"Seems like everyone had a good time last night," Leona said.

Yani stared at her Aunt. She normally ignored the men while she worked, keeping her interactions simple. It was an unwritten rule. Better to know very little in case some shit went down. There had been men here before that scared Yani, and her Aunt taught her how to maneuver the compound by being silent most of the time and rarely seen.

But here she was chatting up Erik like he was one of her nephews at their apartment.

"It was okay. I left to hang out at this club—"

"Yani knows the best places to go—"

"Auntie!" Yani snapped.

Leona glanced over at her.

"For true!" Leona said.

Yani felt Erik's eyes on her and she tried to use better concentration while cutting up the onions.

"I went to a place called 'Rush'. You know it?"

"Serious? My nephew Kendall performs there this weekend. Yani used to sing there when she had—"

"Let the man eat, Auntie," Yani said without looking up from the cutting board. She quickly grabbed a piece of bread from the kitchen bread box and stuck a big piece between her lips to absorb the fumes of the onions before her eyes watered.

"My Great-grandmother used to do that," Erik said.

"Oh yeah?" Leona said her eyes darting Yani's way.

"I don't know if it actually works all that well, but my Nana swore by it. I do it when I cook sometimes."

"You cook? Really?" Leona said.

"Yeah. My Nana was pure D Geechee so I grew up in her kitchen…working, not just eatin'."

Leona tittered and tossed her chopped cucumbers into a large mixing bowl. She rinsed her gloves and cutting board, then started in on some white onions.

"What's your favorite thing to cook?" Leona asked.

"I make a mean okra stew."

"Serious?"

"Yeah. Whip that up with some red rice and a good trout fish…hmmmm…some good eats."

"You like okra? Then you'll like how I cook okra. I'll make you some with stewed oxtail—"

"Auntie," Yani said after pulling the bread from her mouth. She was annoyed with the two of them. She just wanted the serene quiet that working in the kitchen normally gave her, the repetitive motion of slicing and dicing relaxing to her. The kitchen was her respite and these two were disturbing her peace.

"Can yuh nuh cut and nuh interrupt mi gyal…"

Leona gave a tongue-lashing that made Yani suck her lips.

"Maybe I should cut everything up myself and you can sit and have a cup of tea with him—"

"Don't talk to your Aunt like that. It's disrespectful," Erik said.

Yani stared at him.

"You not my father," she said enunciating clearly so he wouldn't lose the meaning in her heavy patois.

"Yani!"

Yani's eyes snapped to attention when she heard the shrillness in Leona's voice.

"Mr. Killmonger, please excuse my niece—"

"I'll excuse myself," Yani said pulling off her gloves and tossing them in the trash can. She cleared her cutting board and put the onions in the fridge. Her eyes swept over to Erik, and the glare on his face gave her pause.

Leona kept cutting her vegetables and stayed quiet.

Erik stood up, lifting his plate. He cocked his head to the side, and an eyebrow over his left eye arched up. He looked a little heated.

Yani made a small moan of annoyance in her throat, then sucked her teeth and padded over to Leona.

She kissed her Aunt's cheek.

"Mi no mean nothin', Auntie. No disrespect."

"I know," Leona said kissing Yani's cheek back.

"I'm going to call Twyla, check on Sydette."

Leona took her bowls of cut veggies and placed them in the fridge. Yani stepped near Erik.

"Yah get too comfortable, Killmonger," she said brushing past him.

She didn't like the smirk on his lips or how they teased up his dimples.

"You don't get to call me that. I told you what my name was."

"Asshole?"

His full lips displayed their abundance when he smiled at her. His big white teeth and those gold slugs were the better to chew her up with if he chose to go full wolf on her. They were intimidating but underneath that intimidation was something darker and more sinister that was bubbling up when he put that rough tone in his voice to tell her what to do. He wasn't one to test. He brought his face closer to hers so her Aunt couldn't hear him.

"Watch your mouth, girl. I'll have you calling me Daddy if you keep it up."

The moment the words left his mouth, she felt her milk let down, the sudden warmth and tingling in her breasts catching her off guard, and her hands clutched at her nipples too late, the heavy leaking staining the front of her t-shirt.

Erik's eyes shot down to look at her fingers. Two large and growing spots wet her fingers and she pushed past him, running out of the house through the back patio door, scrambling down the side steps that led to Leona's compound apartment underneath.

She was mortified that Erik saw what happened.

She yanked off her t-shirt and bra, rinsing them off in the bathroom sink and then tossing them into the apartment clothes dryer. Topless and still leaking, she grabbed her breast pump on the tiny kitchen table and Sydette's baby bottles. She cleaned the apparatus and her breasts quickly then sat on the couch and allowed the machine to relieve her milk flow.

She didn't think she could face Erik again.

Her tits were going haywire around him, and he was pushing buttons in her. He irritated her, and when he told her that he would make her call him Daddy…she believed him. She knew the type of men Klaue employed. What made Erik more dangerous than most was that he was beguiling. He didn't have to say or do much to let one know that he should be obeyed. All it took was one eyebrow to lift and his neck to tilt and she was scampering over to her Aunt to make nice quick- quick. Triple quick.

She spent only twenty minutes pumping both breasts and filling up the bottles. She put the bottles in the fridge and cleaned the pump and her chest. Her bra and t-shirt were dry, and after she put them on, she could hear her cousin Kendall calling for her.

She opened the apartment door and Kendall stood there with his garden goggles on, his gloved hands gripping a rake.

"Come get Jerome," Kendall said.

Yani followed him to the middle house where another gardener stood with a hedge clipper down below the pool. Jerome was wedged between a hedge and a row of passion fruit flowers where the men needed to work.

"He won't move," Kendall said resting his weight on the rake.

"He won't even let us work around him," said J.B. who was so ready to clip and move onto the next house.

"Jerome. You know better. Come from there," she said clapping her hands at him.

The iguana turned his head away from her.

"Tuh? That's how you treat me? Your big sister? Jerome!"

He ignored her.

Yani walked past him and grabbed a few leaves from his favorite tree. She crumpled them in her hand and pretended to nibble them, moving further away from where he was.

"I have these delicious leaves all to myself. You want some, Jerome?"

His head turned in her direction slightly and he took a step forward.

"They are so good," she said, pressing the leaves near her mouth.

He still wouldn't leave his spot. Her voice probably didn't sound pleasant to him, probably still tinged with irritation over Erik. She whistled a little tune for him and he scrambled over to her. She fed him the leaves.

"Thank you, Yani!" Kendall called.

"No problem," she called back. She looked above the hedge wall and saw Erik looking down at her from the pool area. He watched her feed Jerome and the look he was giving her made her feel weird.

"Yani, can I talk to you for a minute?" Erik called to her.

No.

That's what she wanted to say. Her cousin Kendall and J.B. glanced over at her.

She didn't want to be near him again. He'd been throwing her off balance since he got there. Stole her water. He'd seen her naked. Saw her boss scold her. Ruined the tranquility of the kitchen. Witnessed her milk soak her clothes. She wanted him to go away.

"Yani, c'mere girl."

Kendall's eyes grew wide at the tone in Erik's voice. He stopped raking the leaves and watched her. She let some of the leaves in her hand drop down for Jerome and she walked back over to the steps that led up to the pool.

Erik had cleaned up and changed clothes. His locs were loose around his head again. His sleeveless white mesh shirt looked comfortable on him with the basketball shorts he sported.

They were alone up in the pool area, but she knew Kendall and J.B. were down below trying to listen. She guided Erik away from the wall and over to the patio furniture.

"I don't want us to start off on the wrong foot with each other," he said. His voice was gentle and she felt comfortable looking him in the eye.

"Me neither," she said.

"I've been crowding your personal space. You seem like the type that likes to be alone, or not around a lot of noise, and I just stepped on your toes with that. I'm usually pretty good at reading people's comfort levels, and I've been ignoring yours. I want to start over. So…peace treaty?"

"I guess," she said.

"Don't guess. I'm going to be here for a while, so I want to get along with you."

"I don't usually interact with the men here."

"I get it, but when we have to, I want us to be cool. Understand?"

"Yeah."

He walked back over to the pool wall and looked over.

"Does Jerome always come to you like that? When you whistle?"

"Yeah."

"It sounds cool when you do it. You add vibrato to it, and a little wobble in there too."

"Yeah."

"I'm into sound, so I notice stuff like that."

"Oh."

"Can you whistle from here and make him come over?"

Yani walked over to the wall and stood next to Erik. They could see Jerome on the grass below still chewing on the leaves she left for him.

Yani puckered her lips and whistled a melody she made up for Jerome when he was a baby, the one that always got him excited and let him know that she was nearby. Jerome stopped eating and lifted his head in the direction of her voice and scuttled over to the wall trying to find her. She made the pitch higher and he looked up, shocking Erik when he scrambled straight up the wall and onto the ledge where they were.

"Okay nigga, damn!" Erik shouted at Jerome.

Yani doubled over with laughter when she saw how fast Erik leaped back from the wall and jumped behind her while grabbing her arms and pushing her toward the iguana for protection. She laughed so hard her stomach muscles began to hurt. She wiped tears from her eyes and they could hear Kendall and J.B. cracking up too.

"I wasn't expecting him to fly over here like that! You should've warned me that this nigga ran track!"

Yani's hand reached out and grabbed Erik's arm while she cackled at his expression even more. When she looked over at Jerome, he stared at both of them and it sent Yani into another fit of laughter. It was the smooth feel of the keloids on his arm that brought her down from her giggle fest.

Erik's body felt warm and she was tempted to run her fingers across the length of his wrist and bicep to see what skin like braille felt like. Could she read an extraordinary story across his chest and back? She released his arm wondering what skin-to-skin contact with those keloids would feel like. Would it feel rough after a time? Did the woman he surely slept with the night before rub her body across his chest? What did it feel like to spoon with him and feel those lumpy scars pressed into one's back? Were they sensitive? Did they itch? If she licked her tongue across a row of them, would they irritate or tickle him?

"I better get back to the kitchen," she said.

He nodded his head but she didn't move. She could hear Kendall and J.B. shuffling down to Klaue's main house. She turned to look at Jerome. Erik was still flighty around him. She had a leaf in her hand. She gave it to Erik.

"Give it to him, he likes being fed by hand," she said.

Erik took the leaf and stood next to her.

"I better not lose a finger…" Erik warned.

He held out the leaf and Jerome's mouth opened wide, his sticky tongue was a brilliant pink. He lunged forward and snapped the leaf out of Erik's hand.

"Oh!" Erik shouted, jumping behind Yani again, his hands gripping her shoulders shoving her forward again. What a wuss.

Jerome scampered back down the wall.

"Is he gone for real?"

"Yeah."

"Don't be saying that and he jumps back up here again."

"Lookie, he's heading over to the trees."

Erik still held her shoulders in a vice grip and his head leaned over her to check for any lying on her part.

"Gone," she said.

"You really are a Dr. Doolittle with him."

His warm breath was in her ear and her body tensed up when she felt a tiny tickle of his scruffy beard on her cheek.

"Mmmphh…" she sighed closing her eyes, her teeth nipping into the side of her bottom lip.

"What's wrong?"

The dulcet sounds of his voice coming from his throat vibrated in her ear and went straight to her chest. She exhaled loudly; the sides of her chest were so aware of his fingers grazing the outside fullness of her breasts. She swallowed hard and stepped backward instead of forward like she meant to and she felt her back press into him. Her fingers slid up her stomach and before she could cover her nipples through her shirt, he could already see what was happening…again.

"Don't cover yourself. I wanna see," he said, and she felt the sensuous pulse of arousal unravel her sense of embarrassment. She let her fingers and hands fall away from her chest.

"Does this happen a lot?" His voice was low, almost a pure growling in her ear.

"Sometimes…a lot more lately," she gasped feeling woozy.

"Does it hurt?"

They both watched her shirt darken, her milk ducts saturating the cotton, the leaking feeling more like a slow trickling the more he spoke to her.

"No."

Her shirt was sticking to her pebbled upturned nipples. It probably wouldn't have been so noticeable, but since she had Sydette, her tips were so much larger than their already big size.

"Damn," he muttered, "can I touch you?"

"I have a boyfriend," she uttered with a paucity of believability in her tone. His soft breath chuckled. He knew she was lying. Truth was, she was dating someone, but they weren't anything official yet, and Chez was still kind of around scaring away potential suitors, but right now, Erik's hands on her shoulders had her tuned up full throttle…

"You don't have to lie, Yani. If you don't want me to touch you, just say so."

She felt her hips winding on their own.

"Yeah…."

"Yeah what?"

"You can touch me."

His fingers slid from the sides of her breasts and lifted them up to feel the heft and weight. Once he started plucking at the wet material and pinching her tips, her hips automatically thrust back and she could feel the outline of his dick pushing back on the crack of her ass.

"Damn, girl," he uttered again. His hands slipped under her shirt and squeezed her fullness. She could feel her nipples weeping over his fingers. He squeezed harder and he pushed his hips into her backside. His dick had grown so much bigger.

His beard was pressed against her temple and his voice was straining to remain cool and calm.

Lifting her shirt up he groaned with the pain of lust as he took in the sight of milk streaming from her nipples.

"You feel me," he whispered, the groan in his throat cut off when she rocked back into him.

She couldn't believe what they were doing. So out in the open. No one was there to watch them; they weren't within view of security cameras. It felt so illicit to be with him, a complete stranger to her, a man who riled up her work life. Now he was playing with her breasts, pinching her nipples, and making her baby’s milk dance in reckless drizzles down her chest.

"Erik…" she whispered, feeling her thighs rub together, knowing her panties were wedged into her folds from her squirming.

"Does this make your pussy wet?"

Her hands shot up to hold his wrists as he plucked and pulled her sensitive tips.

"Fuck it," he croaked.

He spun her around and let his left hand hold up her right breast, while his right hand released his thick erection.

When Yani saw his dick, she thought he was going to fuck her right there, and in her reckless state she would've gone along with him even as she wondered how all of that went into a woman.

But he stroked himself, the pretty darker brown hue of his erection heavy with thick veins. He could probably dagger a bitch to death with that thing.

"You got me so hard."

"Somebody might see us," she said with weak conviction. She didn't care who saw them. She was only now thinking of how this would end. How would they venture on after this was over? Would he treat her different?

"Ahhh, baby…" he grunted, squeezing her nipple and letting the dwindling lactation dribble onto the skin between his thumb and index finger.

Yani found herself squirming, squeezing her thighs together, trying to get friction onto her clit. Erik's eyes saw her hips and legs moving.

"Play with your pussy."

It was a demand.

Her left hand pulled the band of her track pants and panties out while her right hand burrowed deep into her apex.

"Hmmm," she groaned.

"I know your shit is so wet. Make yourself cum. I know you wanna cum, right?"

She nodded, feeling her eyes water from how slick she was down there.

"I wanna fuck you," he uttered under his breath as his eyes closed halfway, still focused on her wet breasts. When those words slipped his lips with such raw need, he gazed up at her face suddenly, and she knew he hadn't meant to say that out loud. He wasn't always in control of himself.

She liked that.

Liked it so much that she started cumming in her own hand, her eyes wet and blurry as she let her mouth fall open and a gurgling sound of pleasure flew from her lips.

"Oh…fuck...Yani…"

Erik's fist pumped his glans and she watched a long ribbon of pre-cum drip down onto the cement between their feet.

"You gon' make me nut right now…"

His hold on her breast tightened, and she kept her body still with her fingers still rubbing wide circles on her sated clit.

"You gon' make me nu-!"

His cum shot out, the heavy spurts hitting her breasts, stomach, and part of her arm. The thick milky semen dripped and mingled with the milk from her breasts painting her silky brown skin with zigzags of vivid dripping white fluid.

"Fffuckkkk!"

The gluttonous sound of his release caught her up in his frenzy, and a whine bubbled up from her throat as she watched the last of his semen spill from his tip.

Deep exhalations and inhalations moved his chest, his hand still circling her breast. His eyes stared at the mess he made on her co-mingling with what came out of her tender nipples. He fixed her bra cups and pulled down her shirt.

"Don't move," he gasped as he fixed his shorts. He walked over to a stack of pool towels on the patio table and grabbed one. He brought it back to her.

"You have a change of shirts here? I can give you one of mine if you don't have anything to change into."

"I have some extra shirts in the apartment," she whispered, still feeling light-headed from his touch.

"Okay, good, I gotta go see Klaue. Go fix yourself up."

Yani threw the towel around her shoulders and let it cover the front of her shirt. Erik watched her face and moved closer to her until he was almost touching her body again. Her skin felt alive and feverish like a brilliant sun was buried deep within her flesh.

What would they be now?

Erik leaned down and kissed her lips. She turned her head away suddenly. Strange. Kissing him felt more intimate than what they had done. Stranger still, she wasn't ready for that level of closeness when he had her head spinning.

For the second time in two days, Yani found herself running away from him.

[Part 1] [Part 2]  [Part 3]  [Part 4] [Part Five]  [Part 6]

Tag List:

@fonville-designs​ @soufcakmistress  @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon  @thadelightfulone @allhailqueennel @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky @raysunshine78 @the-illllest @terrablaze514  @l-auteuse @amirra88 @jimizwidow

[nevergiveupneverrun]

Bodyguard - Chapter Forty-Three “The Sweetness of Life”

Hello everybody, how are you? Here is chapter Forty-Three of my Story Bodyguard. It’s Friday so what does Friday mean? A new chapter yay!! He is ready so let’s go!

I’m sorry in advance for the mistakes… English isn’t my first language and I do my best. Here is the link to the previous chapter: Click Here.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter :) 💛

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The bright lights of the city illuminate us as I travel the last kilometers that separate us from the address indicated by Nathan.

He had given me the information by telephone, during a call I made from a telephone booth. With a very specific technique, because I couldn’t be more cautious and I had asked him to use our special forces procedures and not to divulge the address clearly in the conversation. He had indicated the information by code with this sentence:

“I’m going on vacation to Virginia. For 3 months. It’s my old friend Blaine who invited me, you know, the one who runs the district grocery store”.

A few words that seem trivial at first, but it was a technique that was used on missions to communicate the scene of operations. The first word was always the name of the street. The second number, the number. And the third information specified the region or the city. 

In this case, I had determined that my final destination was No. 90 Virginia Street. The last information was less obvious, I knew we were in Seattle. But after a few seconds reminding me of the word district in the sentence, I quickly assumed it was a clue to the quarter. A clue contained in the word Blaine… B as Blaine… and B as Belltown. So I had my full address: 90 Virginia Street in Belltown in Seattle. A mini-map of Seattle that I had in the chalet had allowed me to confirm the accuracy of this address and therefore our final destination.

It was in this direction that we headed, I had spotted the place on my plan and noting the streets we were walking or borrowing, I knew we were close… a few meters.

It was almost seven hours that we were on the road… seven hours when I had plenty of time to ponder and rehearse this moment that had marked our last minutes in my family home. This kiss we shared with Amelia. And sharing is the right term because I didn’t push her. I had let her do it and even I had encouraged her: hold her against me with a hand in the back. My own lips bustling under her and betraying me despite myself… as if this moment, I expected it as much as her. I took advantage of it.

We had taken the road just after, which had saved a few minutes of discomfort and embarrassment.

The motorbike was an effective means of locomotion… cut short any discussion and I was more than relieved to travel well and not by car. I couldn’t avoid taking a break halfway. But I had the clear goal of avoiding Amelia during this interlude and I had taken care to give Nathan some news of a cabin to tell him our time of arrival… which allowed me to limit the time I had to face Amelia a few minutes. A time when she didn’t bother to broach the subject.

But I dreaded more the evening because to avoid her would prove much more difficult… even impossible.

I make a turn on the right and it is a special street sign that is revealed at the moment "Virginia Street". The street that would become our daily from now on. I slow down a little more pace by paying particular attention to the physiognomy of this street: it’s not a central axis, hidden behind the main avenues and boulevards of this neighborhood in the center of Seattle. Nathan had selected good surroundings.

The numbers scroll as we walk along with the buildings and in a few meters, it is finally this famous number 90 which stands out above the entrance of a building.

I park the motorbike, cut off contact and put a foot on the ground while I feel Amelia stand out slightly from me. As on our last trips to Campbell River, she had held tight to me her hands against my belly, her chest pressed against my back: proximity that I had grown used to… and I must admit that I had almost enjoyed feeling during these seven hours of travel.

I feel that she actives behind me and gets off the motorbike while I stay focused in front of the building that faces us: a building as described by Nathan. A facade all brick with this figure 90 in white that stands out above the entrance. I sweep the front of the eyes, noticing that the building has seven floors… obviously with a terrace on the roof for the top floor apartment: the new apartment of Amelia.

I distinguish an intercom to the right of the door and a second device in the double-door entrance that follows.

- So here is my new address, Amelia breathes by my side, the crash helmet in hand.

I separate myself from the helmet that I had not yet left, puts me back on feet and places me at her side, the look directed just like her to her new Pied-à-Terre.

- Yes, in any case, until I’m done with my mission… after you can choose an apartment or a house more in line with your personal taste…but here, Nathan has above all privileged the security… even if knowing him, he undoubtedly also paid attention to the comfort and the beauty of the places…

- It’s going to change me from Madison Park.

I felt her a little destabilized by this new context. Even if I had tried to prepare her for this change, it’s always difficult to concretely realize things… until you actually discover them. I knew that she was very attached to her house and I almost felt that she was not aware that this house was no more… then at this moment, confronted with the reality of her new home, living environment.

- It’s temporary, Amelia… we’ll make it as short as possible, come on, I think we’re both a little tired…

I put my hand behind her back and leads her to the entrance of the building.

I cannot help but press “floor 7″ on the intercom to take a look behind me and in the street around us: the day had not yet completely fallen on Seattle, but the light was already bending illuminating a completely deserted street… without suspicious 4x4 on the horizon.

Reassured by this lack of activity around us, I activate the button corresponding to our floor and after a few seconds, a familiar voice resonates from the intercom.

- Yes, hello.

- Nathan, it’s O’. We arrived with Amelia…

- Ok, I’ll open it… you’ll have to press the second intercom again and I’ll explain to you to go up.

- Fine, see you soon…

Then we hear a loud « beep » telling us the unlocking of the door.

I push the front door lightly and hold it open while letting Amelia enter first.

We thus enter a sort of double-door entrance, a second door protected by another intercom preventing us from going further.

I activate this second device and recognize again Nathan’s voice.

- Ok, I unlock this new door, for the next times, the doors can be managed by magnetized key or code. Once this door has passed, you have a first elevator that serves the first six floors. For the apartment of Amelia, the elevator is apart… you will see a door next to the elevator « public » which is the one to use and whose door is locked… without a magnetic card or authorization of the tenant, no access to the elevator. I unblock it and you can enter it… it will take you directly to the 7th. So see you.

- Fine, thank you, Nathan!

The metallic sound of door opening sounds again and I pass Amelia in front of me.

I notice an expression of astonishment on her face as she moves forward, heading for the elevators.

- Are you okay… you look weird?

I follow her and opens the door of the elevator: HER elevator.

She enters and turns to me to answer me, while I sit by her side.

- No, I’m fine… I am just struck by the security measures of this building… two doors managed by intercom… a single and locked elevator… I feel like in a fortress…

- I was very clear with Nathan… security was paramount… I’m not surprised by this device, that’s what I expected… no one will be able to enter here without knowing it… you can rest easy here…

We rise in the air at the rate of the rise of the elevator.

I observe Amelia who remains pensive after my explanations.

A weird impression seizes me at this moment: in spite of myself, I think about this kiss we shared earlier in the day. But this event seemed to me almost imagined at this moment. And far from the concerns that must have been mine. Finding Seattle. Discovering this impressive security device, I returned to the content of the threat surrounding Amelia. That had caused the loss of her home. And the death of a man. And my previous thoughts on a simple kiss seemed futile to me. Amelia seemed as much to have forgotten: her mind was rightly focused on something else… and in this new environment, she had not chosen but which she was going to have to get used to.

The elevator then stops suddenly and the doors open automatically in front of us: a small corridor faces and reveals an imposing black door a few steps. 

Amelia remains motionless on my left, staring at this door. I remain silent near her, respecting this moment of reflection or hesitation.

But after almost a minute, still not seeing her react, I slide my free hand in her back.

- After you…

I push her slightly and she obediently follows the movement that I suggest: she stepped shyly in this corridor until she stopped in front of the door that she didn’t leave her eyes a second…

Her feet are frozen immediately.

Her whole body seems tense… like paralyzed. 

My hand still on her back, go back and forth slowly as if to reassure and encourage her.

- You will be good here… you will not risk anything…

She nods but remains fixed on the boundary that separates her from her return to life in Seattle.

- But it will not be like before… I had taken the time to decorate my house… to register and to live so many memories… all that is in ash now… I didn’t really realize it until then…

- Don’t forget “Bohemian”… the memories don’t go away like that, you have them in you… they will always live through you… we will do everything to please you here, I promise you, okay?

She turns her face, abandoning the image of that door facing her for the first time since we reached this seventh floor and offers me a slight smile.

- I know…

One of her arms then slips in her back and catches my hand which continued his movement against her.

She interlaces our fingers, placing our hands between us and giving me her crash helmet to release her second hand. 

- I know, she repeats, looking back at the door, her second free hand resting on the handle.

My eyes rest on our clasped hands until her arm pulls me as she walks into the apartment. 

Black.

That’s the word that sums up our first impression.

Indeed, we enter an apartment, plunged into darkness, the curtains or the blinds to be closed… the lights expressly extinguished.

I immediately cringe, bringing Amelia against me by the hand… I couldn’t help but fear an ambush, a trap of the crazy… and yet it was Nathan’s voice that I had heard a few minutes earlier.

My senses on alert, then distinctly perceive wrinkles, in front of us and a whisper.

I’m about to place Amelia behind me when the pressure of a switch resonates in the room instantly illuminating the apartment… and teaming up with a cheerful “Welcome Home!”.

My eyes blink several times, dazzled by the sudden light but I quickly discover the scene that takes place in front of us.

A poster placed across the room with a “Welcome” in capital letter.

And silhouettes that stand out underneath.

Smiling faces to welcomes us and create a human warmth in this strange place for Amelia.

I sweep them with my eyes feeling a smile to win me naturally in return: my mentor Nathan first, then Jackson, April, Andrew and finally the young woman I met during the reception for the founding of Amelia, Meredith.

Amelia’s hand is escaping from mine and I watch her step forward with open arms towards April.

- I missed you… she murmurs in the arms of her friend.

- You too, sweetie, answers April which seems to be particularly moved.

I leave the young women’s eyes and advance to Nathan whom I shake hands while posing the crash helmets on the first table that I meet.

- Welcome, Owen.

- Hi Nathan and thank you for your find, what I saw, for now, security measures are top…

- Nathan is still a magician, some things don’t change.

Another voice rises on my right and it’s Jackson whom I discover by my side who smiles at me while placing a hand on my shoulder.

- Jackson, glad to see you.

- Me too, O’… those little days outside Seattle went well?

- I think yes, Amelia has regained her strength… even if the return disturbs her a little…

- It was time for her to come back, April was starting to get impatient, he said pointing his gaze to the two young women who were talking after their embrace.

I cannot help but observe Jackson at that moment, and the look he’s sporting then interrogate me: there was a new glow, a spark that I didn’t remember to have identified before leaving.

Or perhaps it was fatigue that played tricks on me?

- Thank you for this little surprise… it’s going to reassure Amelia who was a little worried when she arrived… no news of the crazy in our absence?

- No, any…in my opinion, he understood that Amelia had left Seattle and he will watch her next public appearance… but his impatience could also go in our favor and cause him to make a mistake…

I stay focused on Amelia just steps away from us as she is now talking to Andrew and Meredith, two people whose presence surprises me.

- Don’t worry Owen if Andrew and Meredith are there, it is they are not a risk, says Nathan guessing my silent questions.

I turn to him to encourage him to continue.

- I studied Andrew’s past and watched his actions for some time… he has no connection with what is happening… his excessive reactions come more from a spurned love than anything else…

- But I think you were aware of this O’, suggests Jackson in a smile.

- The part about the rejected love you mean? I asked as Jackson nods to mark his answer. Indeed, it was not a secret… it surprises me that he is there.

- He wanted to be present… he could not come to Richard’s funeral and he was deeply angry… I think he comes to terms with Amelia and he wanted to be there as a friend.

- And for Meredith?

- We had to put her in the confidence after checking she was « clean »… Meredith was chosen by Amelia’s record company to replace Richard in an emergency as a manager. As the two women know each other and appreciate each other, they thought it was a good choice, and we needed support from her nearby staff, says Jackson.

- Obviously, it’s a good choice indeed, I say while seeing Amelia laugh at a remark of Meredith.

- Well, if we went to the serious things, April announces suddenly in a loud and calm voice that carries throughout the room.

- Look around the property? Amelia tries.

- No… you’ll do it later… I’m talking about a drink with alcohol if possible… to have a drink together on your return!

- Okay, it’s a program that I can enjoy, says Amelia in a smile.

- I hope so because I must confess that we have been waiting for two hours… so let’s go! April answers in a laugh.

She walks a few steps towards the room on the side, before turning to Nathan, Jackson and myself.

- Jackson, will you help me? She asks softly.

Jackson nods and follows her without a word.

I watch the scene with interest.

The barriers also seemed to have fallen between April and Jackson, now in their exchanges… and new complicity.

Things had obviously also evolved a little during our absence between our long-time accomplices.

I remain immersed in my thoughts a few moments, but their return to the room brings me back to the reality of the moment.

April lays a series of champagne flutes, on the large black ebony table that sits in the living room followed by Jackson who holds a bottle of champagne in his hand and also deposits some flutes then.

We all automatically gather around the table while Jackson opens the bottle with the distinctive sound of an escaping cap.

April hands him the flutes one by one and he fills them successively, then April does the service by giving everyone a drink. Taking hold of my glass, I first meet Meredith’s gaze, which gives me a smile to which I respond, and Andrew gives me a quick hand sign.

- Well, we are all served… I think it’s time for speeches, says April who is positioned between Jackson and Meredith as we naturally placed ourselves in a circle, Amelia on my right and Nathan on my left.

- You know I don’t like this April…

- Just a few words, sweetie…

Amelia lowers her eyes, a little embarrassed and takes a deep breath, visibly preparing her sentences.

- A few words then, she concedes after a few seconds.

She looks up, staring at April in front of her.

- Life can be cruel… life can be sweet… see you so in front of me tonight, for this little surprise goes straight to my heart… and shows me again that there is always a little sweetness somewhere, even in the hardest and most severe moments… I’m so lucky to have each of you in my life… thank you for everything, thank you for being here for me.

- Welcome back home Amelia and therefore: the sweetness of life! April concludes raising her glass.

- The sweetness of life, the whole assembly resumes in the chorus.

The jingling of glass resonates while the glasses bang together in succession.

I drink to Nathan, Jackson, April, Meredith, and Andrew before finishing my series by Amelia.

She is already waiting for me with her glass lifted, her gaze immersed directly in mine.

Her right hand is then against her tank top and I notice that she finds the key of the chalet under her fingers against her skin… she holds the object against her for a few seconds and she whispers again the words chosen for the toast: “the sweetness of life”.

We keep our eyes fixed in each other while banging our glasses and soaking our lips in the bubbling nectar…

A slight smile appears on the lips of Amelia, and I feel myself react to her image by imitating her.

She then stands slightly in front of me to exchanges a few words with Nathan.

I try to focus on their conversation but a sensation diverts my attention.

Amelia’s hand has extended slightly behind her back to find the fingers of my free hand placed along my body.

I instantly look down to this gesture, and to those fingers that cling furtively to mine.

At that moment, I had the impression that she was sending me a message.

Her words, completed by her gesture seemed to associate to tell me something indirectly.

To reveal to me that these last days and this place that we had just left was an example for her… the most beautiful definition perhaps of this « sweetness of life » which she was too often deprived… to prove to me that she counted on me, to prolong this sensation.

Resting on me to keep balance and face the unknown around her.

Who surrounds us both.

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Thank you for reading. Tell me what you think and tell me if you have any idea who is the crazy man who wants to hurt Amelia?

Have a great weekend 💛

[go4blood]

you’re the one that i want - a.i.

I’m finally continuing the broadway series after 2653578 years! I’ve been having writers block, sorry about the lack of posts! This is based around Grease, y/n is Sandy, Ashton is Danny. Basically y/n is new to showbiz and Ashton shows her the ropes, friends to lovers trope, you know how we do.

2.5k words

You paced around your small apartment anxiously: it was callback day. Callback day was the most stressful time for anyone in the theatre world. Today was the day you find out if you made the cut to be apart of Grease or if you didn’t do good enough to make the director even bat an eye. You did a lot of theatre back when you lived in Chicago, but New York was different. More competitive. Thousands watching rather than a few hundred. Tourists traveling and spending hundreds on a good seat rather than some regular Chicagoans buying a ticket for twenty dollars. New York was showbiz central.

You took pride in your acting. Back in Chicago, you had countless roles you loved playing: Sally Bowles in Cabaret, Elphaba in Wicked, Zoe in Dear Evan Hansen, and more. But Chicago is way less competitive than the big apple. You knew the theatre world back home, but you didn’t know it here at all.

Your phone rang and you scrambled to pick it up and answer. You contain yourself and say a simple hello. A man's voice is on the other line. You’ve been offered another audition to further your audition process for the part of Sandy. You gladly say yes and end the conversation. You were relieved that you had another audition, but it was still terrifying. You could screw it up and lose your chance. Grease is a classic, and it has to be perfect. Callbacks were the next morning, so you went to bed early and waited for what was to come.

—

You arrived with an open mind. Around ten other girls were there. 10 girls who want to be Sandy. 10 girls who want this role just as much as you. Maybe more than you. If you were lucky you’d get a chorus member at this rate.

A tall man with light brown hair and hazel eyes walks around, greeting the girls. He has a kind smile paired with a silk red shirt and tight black pants, iced coffee in hand. You see him start to walk towards you and you’re slightly confused.

“Hey, how are you? I’m apart of the cast and could possibly end up being your Danny, and we’ll be performing some scenes together for your 2nd audition. I wanted to introduce myself, I’m Ashton.” He holds his hand out and you take it, shaking it and smiling.

“I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you. Is this your first broadway show?”

He ponders for a moment, “This is my 5th, actually. I did stuff back in Sydney though before I came to New York. You?”

You begin to feel embarrassed. You have absolutely no broadway experience whatsoever. “This is my first broadway show… in Chicago I did stuff though. But nothing here in New York yet.”

“Well you got a callback for the lead so I think you’re in good shape, y/n.” He smiled warmly.

He was different from other actors you’ve met. Many were arrogant and were only there to do their part and leave. He cheered you on despite never meeting you. It was a pleasant surprise.

“Perhaps I am, Ashton.” He smiled and walked to a seat, and you did the same. The director handed out excerpts and began calling names. You watched some of the girls perform scenes and they were all quite impressive. You were very unsure of yourself. You kept growing more and more nervous and you didn’t know if you’d compare to everyone else.

“Y/n! Scene 11, the drive in scene.”

You stand up from your seat and take a deep breath, walking up to the stage.

Ashton cleared his throat, looking at the script then into your eyes, “Hey, you’re not with another guy, are you?”

“No, why?” Your eyes glance down at the script and back into his eyes.

Ashton acts nervous and nonchalant, “No reason… I uh wanted to ask you to take my ring.” He holds out his hand as if there’s a ring there and pretends to put it on your finger. The scene continues, and before you even have a chance to read the stage direction he kisses you. Your cheeks burn and you continue the scene, finishing it out. Ashton smiles at you and goes back to his seat as you do your singing portion of the audition to the song Hopelessly Devoted To You. You go back to your seat, wondering if what you did would be enough.

The last few girls perform and everyone is dismissed. As you put your jacket on, Ashton walks towards you with a soft smile.

“You did really good, I told you it’d be fine. You wanna maybe get lunch? There’s this place down the street you need to try if you’re gonna be a true New Yorker!”

“Sure, why not?” You walk with him to the small restaurant, talking as if you have known him your whole life.

—

“Your favorite movie is Kill Bill? I never would’ve guessed that…” Ashton was sat across from you at the sandwich shop, asking you a series of ‘get to know me’ questions.

“Uma Thurman is my girl crush,” You smirk, “what’s your favorite show?”

“Definitely Brooklyn 9-9. It isn’t deep or anything and it’s just a comedy, but it’s my happy place, what about you?”

“I love Gossip Girl… I know it’s such a girly show but I really like it.” You blush out of embarrassment, but he breaks out into a grin.

“I love Gossip Girl! I watched it with my sister all the time back home. It’s a great show.”

Surprised is an understatement. You never knew a guy could be such a softie. You smile out of relief and drink your tea as He rapid fires questions to you for the next hour.

—

You got the call the next morning. You were officially Sandy. In celebration, he’s hanging out at your apartment and he brought cheap boxed wine.

“What if I’m not cut out for broadway, Ash? What if everyone walks all over me? I don’t know anything about showbiz here in New York.” All you had in your mind was doubt.

“I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. People will be jealous. People will talk about you behind your back. Critics will rip you to shreds. But all that matters is your performance. That dumb, bald critic isn’t the one getting that paycheck and that standing ovation. It’s you. You have to give your all every night. But it’s always worth it. I’ll be with you every step of the way for this show. I’ll guide you. I’ll be like the guy in Pretty Woman! Guiding you through life…”

“Oh Ashton, I’m so lucky you’re my friend. I never thought I’d meet anyone here honestly. You really are the Edward Lewis to my Vivian Ward.” He laughs and clinks his glass with yours.

“First rehearsal is gonna be splendid, darling.”

—

The first rehearsal began at 7:30 am sharp. The first priority was choreography of “Summer Nights”. You met the girls playing Frenchy and Rizzo, and they were very welcoming. Now whoever was playing Jan, however, was a bit snarky. She didn’t even give you a simple hello. You decided to think nothing of it and just go on with rehearsal.

The tech crew brought out some makeshift temporary bleachers for the choreography and everyone got to work. The T Birds and Ashton went to the other side of the stage where the women were all to the other side. You held your music in hand and began your first note while also mirroring the choreographers directions. All was going well until you accidentally stepped on Jan’s foot, causing her to glare at you and yell, “Watch it!”.

You were taken aback. Everyone stopped suddenly and the pianist came to an abrupt halt.

“I’m so sorry-“ you started to say, but was interrupted immediately.

“Maybe you should know what you’re doing if you’re going to be the lead, or were you not aware that you should actually have some experience?”

You mumble barely loud enough for anyone to hear, “I won’t do it again…”

Rehearsal continued, and the room was tense for the remainder of the choreography portion.

“Alright everyone take 5!” The director's voice loudly remarked. Before you knew it, Ashton was walking towards you. His hair was a bit of a mess and his sleeves were rolled up.

“So how was your first choreography session, Sandy?” He grinned, taking a long drink from his water bottle.

You weren’t sure if you should tell him you actually were on the brink of tears. It was way too early to already have complaints, but you were sure that that one girl already hated you and you didn’t even know why.

“It was great, amazing.” You forced a smile and he broke out into a grin. You just couldn’t tell him you were already upset.

“I knew you’d be amazing! I told you it wouldn’t be so bad. We’re doing a run through of the song with everyone next. I’ll get to see you rock it.” He smiled and walked back towards the guys. You sighed, walking back to the group of girls. This would be a long 3 months of rehearsal.

—

You opened the door to your studio apartment and collapsed on the bed, burying your face in your pillow. Then the tears came. You couldn’t believe how upset you were. You didn’t think it would bother you as much as it did, but you felt like you already blew the role of your dreams. You decided to call Ashton, hoping he could lift your spirits.

“Hey y/n, what’s up?” He had his usual cheery tone of voice and you already felt better.

“I know I said rehearsal was great, but the girl playing Jan was really terrible and hurt my feelings really bad and maybe she’s right maybe I don’t have what it takes, Ash. What if she’s right?” At that point you were crying even more. You didn’t expect to cry even more, but it was happening.

“Woah woah woah. The real Sandy Olsson would never take anyone else’s shit. Y/n, you’re one of the most talented people I’ve ever met. You’ve forced me to come over now. I’m gonna make you feel better. Leave the door unlocked and just be expecting me.” He hung up before you could even argue. But you were glad you didn’t have a chance to argue.

—

About an hour passed and your door opened. Ashton walked in, closing the door behind him. He had 2 pints of Ben and Jerry’s and two 4 packs of Smirnoff in his arms. He kicked the door closed gently and sat at the foot of your bed.

“There’s my favorite broadway sensation.” You mumble from under your covers, grinning when you lock eyes.

“Here I am!” He smiled, handing you a pint of ice cream and a plastic spoon, “I also have alcohol.”

You smile, opening the ice cream and wrapping your arms around him, “Thank you for coming here… I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Well I was planning world domination but I’ll get back to that.”

You laugh mad shake your head, “Well… let’s watch Gossip Girl and get drunk then, shall we?”

“We shall.”

—

“She’s just jealous that you’re the lead! Did you see her callback performance for Sandy? It was so half assed! You definitely were the best.” Ashton was on his third drink and there was no hiding it. He was slurring all of his words and laughing at every little thing. You found it adorable.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” A blush crept across your cheeks and you looked down at your cup.

With his hand, he pushed your head up from your chin, “I’m not blind, i know a good actress when I see one, silly. Also, it’s cute when you blush,” He smirked when you blushed even more, “I mean if you want we can practice scenes together outside of rehearsal. We could now! I have my script in my bag…”

Before you could even begin to say no, he was already reading out one of his lines.

“I really like you, Sandy.”

You sigh and grab your script, opening to the right page and sitting across from him on your bed, “Danny, take it easy! What are you trying to do?” You glance down at the book, seeing what his next line is and look back up.

“Can I try something out?”

“Um, that’s not your line Ash-“

His hand comes up to your cheek and before you know it, his lips are on yours. Taken aback, your eyes widen, but then slowly close. You wrap your arms around his neck and twirl the hair at the nape of his neck around your finger and his hands grip your waist. He pulls away and you catch your breath. He smiles at you, “But you enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s a yes I take it.”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol talking, but you were sure that you were falling. Hard.

—

“You’re the one that I want, you are the one I want, ooo ooo ooo honey…”

Everyone had gotten down the choreography to this scene, so everyone was just doing a run through without instruction. Before rehearsal even started, you talked to Ashton as usual. He didn’t even mention the night before. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was for the best. Some friendships need to stay friendships. And that was fine, but a part of you didn’t want that to be true. But what could you do? You never mentioned it again. You decided it was for the best.

-

Countless deli lunches together passed, dozens of coffee runs continued, about 100 more rehearsals occurred, months passed and the day came. Opening night. It was a full house.

You were in your dressing room, finishing up your makeup. A knock took you out of your trance, and you told them to come in.

Ashton came through the door, “Opening night! Are you ready?” He sat on the couch in the dressing room, wearing a tight white shirt and leather jacket, hair slicked back. He looked so good that it physically hurt.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” You weakly smile, “ya know I heard Rizzo has a thing for you.”

“Too bad she’s not my type… I’m into girls named Sandy.”

“Haha very funny, Ash, I mean like in real life.”

“Yeah so do I. A wise man once said, ‘you’re the one that I want, you are the one I want, ooo ooo ooo honey.” You laugh, and look into his eyes.

He’s not drunk right now. He’s sober. He is in your dressing room, telling you he is into you.

“Break a leg, Sandy.” And then he kisses you. And this time you know it isn’t the alcohol talking.

Summer loving. Happened so fast.

[geminiamethyst]

The Phoenix. Chapter 7: The Thunder Sword.

Sorry this took a while guys, I’ve been suffering from writers block and I’m trying to think of a short Moomin story to post since I haven’t done any for a while.

There are some scenes that were inspired by a YouTube animators creation. The series is called “No Evil” by Betsy Lee. I’ll leave a link at the end of the chapter if you guys would like to check it out for yourselves. I highly recommend it because it is truly awesome.

Anyway, please enjoy the chapter.

It took a long time it seemed for Kyun for his tears to stop running. By time they did, his eyes were sore, almost painful, and they immensely felt dry to him. He felt more drained than he did earlier. He felt worse, awful actually. He wasn’t sure if it was an affect of being forcefully separated from Shin like this, or the fact that he let out his emotions the way he did. He tired to shake it off as he felt like he was ready to break down again. He glanced down at the hat in his hands, seeing the salty, damp stain that decorated it. He frowned a little but shook it off, knowing that it’ll disappear overnight. Mumrik rubbed his back gently, trying to give more support than he could. He could tell that it might not mean much in the end, but what else could he do? It wasn’t like he could just suddenly make Shin reappear in a puff of smoke or something like that.

“Do you feel okay?” He asked, a little hesitant. Kyun took in a shaky breath, trying to steady his emotions. He needed to try to hold it together again.

“Honestly? No. But I will be when I get Shin back.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes to try to clear away the soreness. He cleared his throat as he felt like his voice was starting to crack after he had cried.

“You mean we? If you really want to take on the Hobgoblin, you’re going to need all the help you can get.” Mumrik frowned, not quite believing his ears. He felt like Kyun was reverting back to who he was before he met the others, thinking that he could do everything, especially when it came to looking for Shin, on his own. Mumrik thought he would’ve learned that it wasn’t okay to try to do everything on his own again, especially if there was a lot more danger than everyone had realised.

“You don’t have to come. I understand if you don’t want to.” Kyun said, trying not to sound desperate. As much as he didn’t want to admit it out loud, after what happened with Shin, he didn’t want his friends to get hurt even more than they already had.

“You’re joking, right? We’re all friends, aren’t we? Why wouldn’t we help you?” Mumrik asked, his face becoming a mix of being annoyed and serious at the same time. Kyun felt like face palming at that moment. Of course Mumrik would say something like that. Why did he feel so surprised at this?

“You, I get. Snuf, possibly. Ken? I don’t know, he’s a tough case.” Kyun muttered, looking back towards the direction of the camp.

“I realise that what he said was hurtful to you, but I’m sure if you two find some middle ground, maybe you can agree on something.” Mumrik sighed, sounding bothered himself by what Ken had said.

“I appreciate your optimism Mumrik. But I’ve got a feeling that it might be tougher than you think.” Kyun sighed putting his head in one hand, balancing his elbow on top of his knee. He glared out at the stream, trying to take his mind off of what Ken has said previously to him about Shin. Mumrik frowned a little himself, remembering the same thing. He did believe that Ken was out of line, but he really wanted him and Kyun to at least come to terms with one another.

“Come on. Let’s get back to the others. I’m pretty sure you’re hungry.” Mumrik sighed, wanting to try to change the subject a little. He slowly got to his feet, stumbling a little on his tired legs. Kyun secretly wanted to protest at this. However his stomach betrayed him, growling almost like a bear.

“Hungry, tired and I could seriously kill for a drink right about now.” He smiled, trying and failing to cover up his growling stomach. Mumrik quietly laughed, trying not to put enough strain on his voice than he already had. Kyun slowly got up and patted the younger’s shoulder gently. “And, Mumrik...thank you. I honestly needed that talk.”

“Anytime.” Mumrik smiled, glad that he was able to help in some way, even it was something simple as talking and listening to a friend. As they made their way back to the camp, the two Snufkins kept a respectful silence between themselves. The forest looked over them, their merciless shadows draping them, but they remained focused on the faint light of the campfire ahead of them. It became brighter the closer they had gotten close to it. The smell of food overwhelmed Kyun’s stomach, forcing it to gargle loudly once again. However, the air seemed to fill with tension once again when Ken looked sharply at Kyun. His stare seemed to test Kyun, almost taunting him to try to attack him again. Kyun seemed to send a similar message back, daring Ken to try saying something that will trigger him. It had seemed like time had once again gone to a complete stand still. And it was too much for nearly everyone to say the least.

After what felt like an eternity, Ken broke the glaring match first. With almost silent movements, he took the ladle that was in the pot and poured some of the soup into a bowl that had a hand made wooden spoon in it. His face tensed up a little as he felt the tension being forced upon his injured arm. He held the bowl out to Kyun, not saying a word. Equally silent, Kyun gently took it off of his hands, allowing relief to flow throughout the group. Kyun sat down and slowly started to eat. The taste of wild mushrooms and wild garlic filled his mouth openly, making him savour the taste. The others followed his example, filling their stomachs the best that they could. No one had spoken a single word, draping the camp in an uncomfortable silence.

“Kyun, I hate to ask but what did Damien say to Shin exactly?” Ken finally asked, sighing a little. Kyun glanced over at him before he stared intensely at the fire. It took everything that he had not to shake as he recalled those moments. He felt uncomfortable as he saw the flash of the dagger that could’ve killed him.

“To give him the Phoenix, or he’ll plunge his dagger into me.” He replied, slowly, trying to keep his composure.

“But he didn’t asked about its location?” Ken asked again, his eyebrow raised.

“No. He said that there was a spy in the group that Shin’s parents were able to form. Said that he had known where it was the whole time.” Kyun explained, remembering what the man had said.

“So, he knew the location but he needed Shin to give him access to it? I guess that makes some sense.” Snuf mused, holding his chin a little in thought.

“Not from my perspective it doesn’t.” Ken spoke up, staring at the flames, as if he was expecting them to grow larger.

“What do you mean?” Mumrik asked, ignoring the annoyed glances being thrown his way about him putting more strain on his voice.

“If Shin’s parents hid the Phoenix in some remote location, don’t you think that they would’ve told Shin? I know he said he was a kid when they passed away, but regardless his age, I think it would’ve been safe to tell him anyway. Even if it was through a story they would’ve told him.” Ken explained, trying to carefully explain what had been on his mind for a long time now.

“What’s your point?” Kyun almost snapped, starting to get the sense that Ken was going to say something that he wouldn’t want to hear.

“My point is that the Phoenix is also known as the Firebird in some parts of the world. When Shin was like...that, he was surrounded by small flames.” Ken explained, being careful with his words a little as he got a warning glance from Kyun. “So, either he has the powers of the Phoenix and he didn’t have full control of them. Or-“

“Shin is the Phoenix.” Kyun said, catching on quickly as to what Ken was saying.

“Yes.” The blonde sighed, breaking off his eye contact with Kyun.

“I don’t know, Ken. The Phoenix is immortal, isn’t it? What would it be doing inside a mortal body?” Snuf enquired, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Hiding I think would be a safe bet. To be honest, being hidden in plain sight would’ve been a good idea if it hadn’t have been for that spy.” Ken sighed. Kyun felt his grip on the wooden spoon tighten. He held it so tight that he feared that it would turn into splinters. It started to come together for him. He tried to not think about it. However, after seeing Shin with that much power, he couldn’t help but acknowledge it. He knew that Shin wouldn’t hurt him. However, if that was the Phoenix inside Shin that was harming him and his friends, then it made sense. It is possible that the mythical creature had only sensed danger, but it wasn’t sure who was on its side and who wasn’t.

“I...I don’t want to believe it. But if I didn’t, then I would be the biggest idiot on the planet.” Kyun finally said, all the pieces at last coming together for him. No one said anything to him. In fact they didn’t say a word throughout the entire evening. By time the food was devoured, the fire extinguished to the point that the ashes were stone cold, and Kyun had put up his tent, not willing to share with anyone, the group had reached the point of exhaustion. For Kyun, it took a little longer than he thought to settle down into a haunted sleep. A sleep that he had hoped that Shin would be by his side once again. He stared at the canvas above him for what felt like eternity, until he turned onto his side. His half lidded eyes locked onto the hat next to him. As if something was possessing him to do so, he slowly reached over and cling to it tightly. He held it to his chest, trying his best to pretend that he was holding Shin close to him. Somehow, as silly as it seemed to anyone else, it had done the trick, as Kyun was slowly consumed by sleep. ‘I’m coming, Shin. Just hang in there for me.’ His mind prayed before he finally drifted away.

———————————————————————————

The morning couldn’t have come any sooner for Kyun. As soon as he felt dawn approaching, he woke up rather sharply. The moment he woke up, the only person that filled his mind was Shin and the need to find him. He was quite surprised that h didn’t feel as overly worried about his wellbeing. He didn’t feel any faint signs of pain that came from Shin when they were apart. However, it didn’t stop him from worrying. It only took him literally a minute to pack everything away and break down his camp, overpowered by prospect of seeing Shin again. Thankfully he didn’t have to wait too long for the others. As he packed all of his things, he had noticed that he was feeling a familiar pull. It was there when Shin first started to get away from Gnos. It was what gave Kyun the directions that he needed to see Shin again. It was like an internal compass, or a strong magnet. Kyun looked towards where the compass was telling him to go. His gaze settled on the mountains. They seemed to be the path to leave the valley. However, it didn’t feel like Shin had been taken out of the valley. Was he hidden in a cave, or maybe at a cabin near the mountains? Kyun will have to see once they get there. And then he will force the Hobgoblin to tell him why he was getting involved in this.

“Does anyone have any idea where we’re going then?” Ken asked, tying off a fresh bandage over his wound.

“That way. Towards the mountains. That’s where Shin is. Or at least in that direction.” Kyun said, pointing at the mountains.

“How do you know that? You were unconscious when the Hobgoblin took him.” Snuf asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“You know how a magnet can attract metal? Think of it as that.” Kyun exclaimed, slinging his knapsack on his back. No one argued against his word, trusting him completely in his explanation. After, he had managed to track down Shin almost effortlessly when he tried to escape Gnos.

The forest around them had gone through an almost dramatic change since the day before as they walked. Instead of the welcoming and warm postures that the trees often held, now seemed to loom over the group like unforgiving shadows. The light barely seemed to peek through the branches like they normally would. There was no sound, no birds singing their daily melodies, no squirrels chattering or arguing over their nuts, not even the wind seemed to blow through, making the trees shake their leaves. The forest seemed to become hauntingly filled with dread. It was as if nature was changing, knowing that danger could be anywhere. Kyun glanced around almost obsessively as he took long strides. He had this unwavering feeling that the Hunters might come out of nowhere and chase him and the others all over again.

“You okay?” Ken suddenly asked. Kyun almost jumped out of his skin as he was snapped out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He breathed trying to compose himself.

“No, you’re not. I get it if you’re nervous. But this might not help you get your head on straight about this.” Ken advised, his brow furrowing a little in frustration.

“I know. I just don’t want Hunters to get the jump on us.” Kyun sighed, trying to think of a better excuse for him to be nervous.

“Well...” Mumrik suddenly said Before he trailed off of his sentence. His voice seemed to be louder and less painful than it was the night before.

“What?” Kyun asked, looking over his shoulder at him.

“Before we found you and Shin, the Hunters were running literally with their tails between their legs. After seeing Shin like that, I guess that they decided that the money wasn’t worth it after all.” Ken explained, remembering the thunderous stampede that almost ran him and the other two over whilst they had made their escape.

“I guess that’s one advantage.” Kyun muttered, his gaze forcing him to face forward. Despite being told this however, he still kept getting the nagging feeling that something was going to happen. Snuf suddenly stopped, stock still, ears pricking up at a peculiar sound. Something that you shouldn’t have to hear in the middle of the forest.

“Do you hear that?” He asked. The others stopped and listened carefully. They each held their breath, worried about what it was that the youngest was hearing. Their ears picked up the sound. It was slightly faint, but they could clearly make it out. It was shouting. While they couldn’t quite hear what was being said, they could tell by the raw, negative feeling hitting them that it wasn’t a friendly confrontation.

“Sounds like it’s coming from over there.” Kyun muttered, pointing in the direction he was referring to. Before anyone could stop him, Ken suddenly sprinted off in that direction. “Hey! Ken!” The blonde Snufkin didn’t acknowledge the shout towards him, only continued to run off. After sharing a brief glance, the others took off after him. They were careful not to trip on anything as roots curved in and out of the ground. As Ken already had a running start, the group had to pick up as much speed as they could to catch him. So, when he halted very suddenly, the others had literally almost crashed into him. They looked forward and can’t stop staring at all. The sight was quite peculiar but bitter at the same time. At the mouth of a cave, a man and a Hemulen stood. The man was quite tall and seemed to be too posh for his own good. Hair sleeked back so perfectly that not a strand was out of place. His suit was impossibly too clean, not even baring a single stray hair or dandruff. The Hemulen seemed to be an elder, wrinkles showing o his face. His dress was a dark purple and his shoes seemed to be black. The elder looked like he was going to have a heart attack as the man glared so much at him that if looks could kill, the Hemulen would be in a terrible state (to put it lightly to say the least). The group didn’t know what was going on or what to do. They just stood there, watching the heated exchange.

“You dirty rotten cheat! You told me I could have the Sword! Why is it rejecting me?!” The man bellowed, shaking his fist so much that he seemed to have an earthquake inside of him.

“I told you; the Sword chooses it’s owner. It has its own consciousness. It’s not my fault.” The Hemulen tried to explain, stammering over his words, his form starting to tremble. This only served to enrage the man even more as his form too started to tremble even more, but in rage, not fright. The man only yelled another incoherent obstinacy at the elder and raised a fist. Once again, before anyone could react, Ken leapt forward. He stood between the man and the Hemulen, and caught the aggressive fist. His body shook as he stood his ground against the strength that threatened to knock him over.

“OI! Shame on you! Picking on an elder!” He shouted, shoving the man, who was almost twice his height, away from him and the Hemulen.

“Why you little runt! Who do you think you are?!” The man barked, shaking his fist at Ken. The blonde Snufkin didn’t even flinch, as if he wasn’t scared of the man threatening to strike him. That’s when the man noticed the three approaching the scene as calmly as they could. His face turned into a scowl. “Snufkins. Of course. Scum if you ask me. If I had my way, I’d wipe them off the face of the planet.”

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!” Kyun yelled, his face slowly turning red. Mumrik and Snuf had to hold him back as it looked like as though he was going to start picking a fight.

“Listen here you. If you’re so rich, why don’t you do yourself a favour, and buy yourself some manners?” Ken challenged, crossing his arms defensively.

“Why you little-“ the man tried to snap right back.

“Look, either you can turn around and walk away, or you can continue to shout at me like a pompous, spoiled, brat. Your choice.” Ken continued to burn, cutting off the man’s upcoming insult. The man’s face turned bright crimson. Kyun was ready to step forward in case he was ready to try to take a swing at Ken. Instead, the man cleared his throat and straightened out his jacket. He turned to the poor, still frazzled, Hemulen.

“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer about this.” He hissed, sounding pathetic. He turned to Ken. “And you will hear from him too. You have no right to speak to me like that!”

“Funny. I was just thinking the same thing. Now walk away before you embarrass yourself further.” Ken said, continuing to keep his face as emotionless as he could. He was tempted to smirk but resisted against it. The man’s face turned redder. Once again he regained his composure and stomped away. The group watched until he disappeared deep into the forest. Ken let out a long sigh, seemingly relieved that physical conflict had been avoided.

“How in the world do you do that?” Kyun asked, scratching his head in wonder.

“Trust me, it’s something I’ve learned how to do a long time ago.” Ken sighed, refusing to make eye contact. Kyun opened his mouth, but Ken was quick enough to beat him to it. “And no, I won’t tell you what I mean by that.” He jumped back in surprise when the Hemulen suddenly snatched his hand in both of his paws.

“Oh thank you, kind sir! That man has been coming here and bothering me all day today. About time someone stood up to him.” The elder praised, not acknowledging the uncomfortable look that the Snufkin was giving him.

“It’s fine. Could you please let go? I don’t like unexpected contact like this.” Ken cringed, ignoring the faint snickering that Kyun was emitting.

“Oh! Of course! My apologies.” The Hemulen gasps as he turns pink in embarrassment. He hastily let go of Ken and looked at the group. His eyes seemed to sparkle with keen curious. “Well, I never thought that I would ever see a group of Snufkins like this. I thought you were the solitary sort. No offence. Where are you all off to then?”

“None taken. And we’re searching for a friend of ours. He was taken by the Hobgoblin.” Ken said, not even trying to consult with the others first. Kyun stared at him in disbelief. What was going through Ken’s head?

“The Hobgoblin you say? What business would he have with your friend?” The Hemulen asked again, his curiosity increasing, making Kyun feel more uncomfortable about this.

“That’s none-“ he tried to protest, wanting to get back to finding Shin as fast as possible.

“We are led to believe that our friend might know something about the Phoenix.” Ken interrupted, earning a harsh nudge to the ribs from Kyun. He didn’t make a reaction to it, as if it didn’t happen.

“Are you crazy?! What if he’s working with the Organisation?” Kyun hissed, his fists clenched. Ken didn’t answer him. As he rubbed the sore area of where he was jabbed, the Hemulen suddenly looked like his eyes were going to pop right out of their sockets. He looked so surprised that a Hattifattener may as well have given him an electric shock. The group watched him cautiously, half expecting him to call out to any possible nearby Hunters that could be looking for them.

“The Phoenix?! Well, I guess that would explain some things.” The Hemulen exclaimed, suddenly becoming deep in thought.

“What things?“ Mumrik suddenly found himself asking before he could think. The Hemulen made a quiet noise, as if he was unsure to tell the Snufkins anything. He slowly made his way into the cave, beckoning the group to follow him. The group shared a nervous but curious glance before Kyun, Ken and Mumrik started to follow. Snuf however didn’t. Instead he was glancing at the forest nervously. A horrible feeling was knowing at his gut. He didn’t know where it suddenly came from. He knew it wasn’t about the cave, as he has been comfortable going into many before this. This feeling was like ones you get when you know that something bad was going to happen. And Snuf was hating this.

“Snuf, are you coming?” Mumrik asked, as he noticed that the youngest was still where he stood.

“Are you okay?” Kyun asked as well, equally concerned.

“I just...have a bad feeling is all.” Snuf hesitantly answered, looking at his friends.

“What about?” Mumrik asked again, his concern growing.

“I don’t know.” Snuf once again answered in a hesitant manner. He uncharacteristically hid half of his face with the brim of his hat by bowing his head, and fiddled with a loose thread on his sleeve. He looked like he was ashamed of himself for saying those things.

“Okay. Well...why don’t you wait out here? That way if something or someone is coming here, you can warn us. And if nothing happens, we’ll tell you what has happened in the cave.” Kyun suggested, trying to make it seem okay for Snuf to wait outside. Snuf only nodded silently and turned his attention back to the forest. Mumrik and Kyun shared an uneasy look before they continued to catch up to Ken and the Hemulen. The uneasiness that Snuf felt must be getting to them, as now they started to not feel alright. They carefully walked along the passageway, heading towards a cavern ahead of them. The cavern was lit up by a hole in the cave’s ceiling. It was domed shaped, only made by nature more than being man made. Ken waited for them to come, giving them a look that said ‘what was taking you so long?’. That’s when he saw that Snuf was missing.

“Snuf’s waiting outside. Kid got a bad feeling or something all of a sudden.” Kyun said before the blonde could ask his question. Ken nodded as he folded his arms and looked ahead. The other two followed his gaze, both starting at something peculiar. There, with it’s blade half sheathed inside a stone, reflecting the sun, was a sword. It seemed to be made of silver, with a jagged marking running down the blade. At the centre of the hilt was an oval shaped stone. The stone could’ve been mistaken for that of the crystal if it weren’t for its features. Inside the stone was mist, looking more like a great, grey cloud. The cloud was swirling furiously and every couple of seconds, it lit up, with a bolt of lightning streaking from one side to the other.

As the group stared at the sword in awe, the Hemulen stood next to the stone. He seems to be quite proud of himself.

“You see, since yesterday, the jewel in the Sword has been restless. My guess is that it is because of the Phoenix. Come on. Try to pull it out.” He invited, beckoning the group to come closer.

“I’m sorry, what? This isn’t a King Arthur story.” Kyun asked, crossing his arms impatiently. The group slowly approached the stone, trying to get a better look and understanding of the weapon.

“My dear boy! This is far from a fairy tale.” The Hemulen laughed, looking more amused. “This is the Thunder Sword. A weapon used to fight along side the Phoenix many years ago.” The three Snufkins stared at him as if he had grown a second head. So this Sword was connected to the Phoenix. There was no way that it had to be a coincidence that they happened upon this cave.

“Wait. What you’re saying is that we can use it?” Mumrik asked, recovering his voice. The Hemulen nodded, his smile not fading.

“Well, your friend was taken by the Hobgoblin, correct? You might need something that you can use to fight the magician. Not to mention, there may be others who may be after your friend too. The Sword may not be as powerful as them, but it could be used as a good defence.” He said, slowly reaching out. He gently took Mumrik by the wrist, causing him to tense up at the uninvited physical contact, and pulled him closer to the Thunder Sword. “Well, give it a go? If your friend really does know something about the Phoenix, there is a chance that the Thunder Sword might choose one of you to use it.”

“Hang on. ‘Choose’? You mean, we can’t just take it like that?” Kyun asked, his foot tapping slowly, again out of impatience.

“Goodness no! If you had heard the argument earlier, you might recall that I said that the Sword chooses its barer.” The Hemulen explained, his smile dropping, his tone a lot more serious. Mumrik glanced at him nervously, feeling an almost foreboding chill run throughout his body. He looked at the Thunder Sword, watching the storm that raged on inside the stone.

“If you don’t mind in my asking sir, will the Thunder Sword do anything to us if we’re not the ones to use it?” He asked, remembering how angry the man looked when he had stormed out of the cave.

“Would it matter if it did?” The Hemulen asked back, as he took a few steps away from he stone.

“I guess not.” Mumrik muttered. Taking a deep breath he reached out, his hand shaking a little. He wasn’t one for taking a weapon out of impulse unless it was only to defend himself. However, if this was to help protect everyone and save Shin, he was willing to take a risk. However, before he could come close to touching the hilt, what felt like a bolt of lighting struck his hand. Mumrik yelped and rubbed his hand tenderly.

“What happened?!” Kyun exclaimed, seeing this.

“The Sword! It gave me a shock.” Mumrik groaned as he looked at his hand.

“Now if I told you what would’ve happened, you might not have-“ the elder went on as if nothing had happened in the first place.

“Don’t give us that!” Kyun snapped, his shoulders becoming hunched up.

“But trust me. You may need the Thunder Sword if you are indeed to fight those that are after the Phoenix. Some of them have magic that rivals with the sword.” The Hemulen continued, ignoring Kyun’s impulsive outburst.

“I’ll go get Snuf, fill him in on what’s in here.” Mumrik said, turning on his heels and steadily made his way out of the cave.

“Your turn.” Ken suddenly said, eyeing at Kyun.

“Me?! Why me?!” He exclaimed, his voice echoing in the room.

“You’ve known Shin longer than the rest of us. It makes sense to me if the Sword chooses you and not me.” Ken explained calmly. Kyun looked at the Sword, his eyes focusing on the stone, just as Mumrik had done. Now that Ken had said it, it did make more sense than he would’ve thought if no one hadn’t said that to him. Without hesitating, brimming with confidence, Kyun thrusted his hand towards the hilt. However, the hope that he had shattered, as he too was struck by a small bolt of lightning. He exclaimed loudly, more in anguish than pain, as he shook his hand to shake off the pain. Ken couldn’t help but stare as this in surprise. He was sure that Kyun would’ve been able to take the Sword. Why wouldn’t it choose the one person that Shin was the closest to? Kyun turned red in anger. He was tempted to punch something but he only opted for clenching his fists. He had them so tight that he was sure that his fingernails were piercing the skin.

“I don’t have time for this. You can play knights in shinning armour all you want, but I’m going to go find Shin if it’s the last thing I ever do.” He growls, stomping his way out of the cave, wanting more desperately to get back to saving Shin.

“Don’t wait for me, I’ll wait for Snuf to come here.” Ken called out to him. Kyun only waved, showing that he got the message. Ken turned to the Hemulen. “Sir, I’m afraid that I agree with my friend. Although I don’t doubt what you’ve said, given what I’ve seen, I’m struggling to believe that either myself or my friends can use that thing.” The Hemulen sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. It seemed that he too was starting to be at his wit’s end.

“Think what you will. But the Thunder Sword was once used by someone that the Phoenix trusted many years ago. It would make sense if any of you can use it.” He sighed, trying to give the Snufkin more hope than he had.

“Trust huh?” Ken muttered, becoming a bit more doubtful at this. After the way he had treated Shin, blaming what happened on him when they were chased by the Hunters, he felt like the missing Snufkin wouldn’t trust him that much. He felt like a lot of trust was broken in so many ways that it cannot be fixed. He suddenly felt a sharp jab of a warning inside of him. He sharply glanced up, seeing a small patch of ice and a snow storm coming through the hole in the ceiling. He shoved the elder harshly, ignoring him exclaim in shock. Before the snow storm hit the cave floor, the Snufkin leapt out of the way. He skidded on something hard and frozen just as he landed.

“You old fool!”

Ken slowly looked up, dazed, as he heard the voice of a woman. He shivered a little as he felt ice against his bare hands. He glanced over in the direction that he heard the voice. Obviously, a young woman stood there. She was glaring down at the Hemulen, who appeared to be passed out. She stood tall and thin. She looked so thin that her cheek bones were showing. She had incredibly pale skin that seemed to rival the frost that you see on an early Winter morning. Her eyes were a deep sapphire blue and were sharp like a knife. Her long, elegant hair was pure snow white with small snowflakes decorating it. It seemed to flow a bit, like a breeze was carefully picking it up and letting it fall gracefully. A small crown domed her head. It looked to be like it was made out of crystals but upon closer inspection, Ken could tell that it was actually made out of ice, coloured in a perfectly seamless blend of blues and whites. Her dress was long and pure white just like her hair. It reached down to her feet, only showing a small part of her toes from her snow white shoes. It flowed around her like an elegant snowfall. Snow seemed to fall from it at every movement she made. Ice also seemed to appear under her feet as she took a step in any direction. Just her mere presence alone would have made the cave seem like it was in the middle of winter.

“This would never have happened if you had given ME the Thunder Sword! Oh well...” the woman scowled, mist forming from her mouth with every breath she took. Just as she started to turn, Ken leapt to his feet. More slipping on the ice than he was running on it, he reached for the Sword. The woman had fully turned around at that point and she thrusted her hand out for the weapon, screeching like a banshee.

———————————————————————————

Kyun felt the sudden rumbling more than he heard it. A harsh wind almost blew off his hat if he hadn’t held onto it. He turned around and his eyes widened as he saw flashed in the darkness of that had suddenly formed in the cave. Remembering that Ken was still inside, he started to run back. He skidded to a halt only seconds after. An angry cloud was coming towards him. It was an ugly shade of dark grey, lighting up as lightning clapped and thunder bellowed from inside it. Kyun spun on his heels so fast that he thought he’d trip over, and he bolted towards the entrance faster than he ever thought he could run. He saw Mumrik and Snuf at the mouth of the cave. Both seemed to have heard the thunder and wanted to see if everything was alright.

“Get back!” Kyun yelled. Without warning, he shoved, almost tackled, the two out of the cave, just as the storm almost caught up with him. All three crashed to the ground. They looked back into the cave to see the storm still in it.

“Where’s Ken?” Snuf asked, looking around for the blonde Snufkin.

“He’s still in there. And I don’t see a way of getting through that storm.” Kyun muttered, continuing to stare at the storm in astonishment.

“What happened in there? Did Ken grab the Thunder Sword or something?” Mumrik asked, staring at the storm in disbelief.

“Well, something happened in there. I was on my way out when this happened.” Kyun muttered. He slowly took a cautious step forward. This was only met by a lightning bolt striking out at him. Kyun jumped back, his toes narrowly avoiding the offending weather. He, Mumrik and Snuf stared back at the storm, not knowing what to do, what could have happened, or if Ken was alright in the cave.

———————————————————————————

The thunder cashed down Ken’s ear drums, almost making him deaf. He had his eyes firmly shut for the fear of the flashing lightning causing him to go blind. His body felt like raw electricity was coursing right through it. It was wild, untamed, and deadly. So how come he wasn’t dead? Ken only responded to this by tightening his hands so much around the sword that his knuckles could be mistaken for pearls.

“The Organistation will not stop their recklessness.” A voice suddenly whispered, making itself crystal clear against the booming thunder. Ken felt like his heart had jumped to his mouth for a split second. Was that...the Thunder Sword? The Hemulen did say that it had its own spirit or something like that. Was this it?

“They’re reckless?! You listen here, you overgrown toothpick! There are some people in this cave that don’t deserve to be electrocuted! What’s your excuse?!” Ken exclaimed, looking sharply up at the sword. He felt angry at the ancient weapon, angry that it would rather unleash its rage on the people that tried to protect it as well as the person who tried to steal it. This isn’t the way to solve things. Ken had learned that long ago, much too soon.

“That is not my purpose. Only to cast judgement.” The Thunder Sword responded, not seeming to notice the wrong that it was currently doing.

“The last thing this world needs, is a big old knucklehead that’s making demands and taking no responsibility!” Ken shouted, shaking his head furiously. As his head moved, his hair seemed to sway all over the place from the wind and the static in the air.

“Will you take responsibility? You take the responsibility.” The Sword demanded more than asked, the lightning intensified and the thunder boomed even louder.

“Me?!” Ken exclaimed. He sucked in a breath through his teeth out of frustration. “Fine.”

———————————————————————————

Before anyone could think of a safe way to brave the storm, it had suddenly died down. It slowly, but surely retreated back into the cave, the rumbling becoming nothing more than silence. Kyun exchanged a perplexed look with Mumrik and Snuf before he carefully slipped off his knapsack. Grabbing his gun and making it sure it was loaded, he pointed it ahead of him.

“Stay behind me, no matter what happens. Got it?” He warned and the other two silently nodded, both equally worried about the situation. The three cautiously crept their way into the cave. Chills ran through them as they stepped closer to the cavern. It was odd. The chills didn’t feel like the feelings that you would often get. It was more like the temperature had dropped to the point that it could’ve been mistaken for winter. It was so cold that as the Snufkins breathed out, their breath turned to mist. It became more puzzling when Kyun suddenly found himself almost slipping on something. He glanced down and his brow furrowed with confusion when he noticed that he had stepped on ice. The group looked around, seeing that the cave’s walls and floor were covered in ice. The Hemulen laid stunned a fair distance near the cave wall.

“Ken!” Snuf suddenly exclaimed. The others looked at what he saw, with Kyun lowering his gun. Ken was kneeling down at the sword, his hand still clenched around the hilt. He was breathing a little heavily, as if it took all of his strength just to keep hanging onto the Sword. His clothes had small scorch marks on them and his hat was knocked off of his head, showing that his hair had gone static.

“What the heck happened to you?” Kyun asked, trying his best to hold back his laughter.

“Did you not see the raging thunder storm in here?” Ken asked, glaring a little at Kyun.

“Well, I noticed that it gave you a new hair style.” Kyun snickered. Ken eyed up at his hair and saw some of the strands that were standing on end. With his free hand, he hastily pushed his hair down to its original state.

“Hey! Who’s she?!” Mumrik exclaimed, spotting the white haired woman a few feet away from Ken. She was groaning whilst holding her head as she stood up. Once she saw who had grabbed the sword, her face immediately had a scowl on it.

“You filthy vermin! You pest! That’s MY sword!” She screeched. All four Snufkins grimaced as their ears felt like they were going to burst.

“If this really was your sword, you would have been given it years ago.” The Hemulen suddenly stated. The elder was slowly getting to his feet, leaning on the cave wall as to not lose his balance. “I told you, you don’t choose the Sword, it chooses you. It has a consciousness inside it. It knows who is worthy of it and who isn’t. It clearly choose that young man right there, otherwise he would’ve been burnt to a crisp right about now.”

“Shut up you old fool!” The lady screeched again. Snuf looked carefully as ice started to form in her hands into the shape of something. “I am the Lady of the Cold! And I will not accept this defiance!” The lady raised her hands, showing that a bow was what the ice was forming. Snuf had started a sprint as she pulled back the string of the bow, an arrow forming as she did so. Mumrik tried to reach for the younger but it was already too late. As the Lady released the string, the arrow shot faster than the blink of an eye. The Hemulen didn’t react when Snuf suddenly shoved him out of the way. When the elder was unharmed, Snuf wasn’t. He exclaimed loudly in pain when the arrow struck him in the arm. The weapon shattered into tiny shards of ice, making a tinkling sound as they hit the icy ground. Snuf was sent to his knees, clutching hard at his arm. A small trickle of blood leaked through his fingers as he held the wound.

“Snuf!” Mumrik shouted in alarm. His feet suddenly had a mind of their own as he started to bolt towards his friend. The Lady of the Cold drew back the string of her bow again. This time she was aiming at Mumrik.

“Mumrik! Look out!” Kyun cried out raising his gun at the Lady. Mumrik skidded to a sudden halt and looked in horror at the arrow that was aimed right at him. Ken growled softly. Before Kyun could pull the trigger, the blonde had already gotten to his feet. With one pull, the sword was free from its stone prison. Clenching it with both hands, Ken brought it back and gave it an almighty swing. Lightning radiated from it, thunder clapping loudly in response. The Lady of the Cold looked, only to be thrown back by the lightning. She hit the cave wall harshly, her icy weapon shattered upon impact with the ground. She looked up at Ken, fear crawling upon her face. The Hemulen and Snufkins looked at him in astonishment.

“Don’t...you...DARE...harm my friends!” Ken growled, his eyes becoming sharp. The sword crackled in response to his threat, small bolts of lighting briefly coming off of it. The fear that the Lady of the Cold showed was replaced by rage.

“This isn’t over! We will have the Phoenix! Mark my words!” She sneered, pointing at the group, her tone more threatening than a blizzard.

“‘We’? You’re with the Organisation, aren’t you?!” Kyun yelled, raising his gun at her again. The Lady of the Cold smirked. She didn’t say anything as she suddenly became nothing more than a swirling snowstorm. Everyone stood their ground as another harsh wind ripped through the cave. The storm raged as it seethed out of the cave, leaving behind a trail of ice, and the echoing cackle of the Lady of the Cold. Kyun and Ken, almost impulsively, race after the snowstorm. By time they exited the cave, they only found that the ice trail continued deep into the forest. Kyun glared at it. The Lady of the Cold was with the Organisation. What more of a confession did he need other than her retreat? She could lead him to the rest of them, and he can stop this nightmare. He can stop the torment that Shin was forced into. He took a step forward, gun held so tightly in his hands that it might break. However, Ken placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from committing his impulsive action.

“Let her go. She’s not worth it.” He said sternly as Kyun glared at him. Kyun would’ve shouted, but instead he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt like his rage had melted away and his body seemed less tense. “Come on. We should check on the others.” Without another word, Ken made his way back inside, the Thunder Sword remaining to be tightly clutched in his hand. Kyun watched him for a second before turning back towards the ice trail. A part of him really wanted to chase after the Lady of the Cold. However, he fought back against that instinct. Besides, the storm had moved much too fast and the ice trail had already started melting away, evaporating a little in the warm sun.

Taking another deep breath, Kyun steadily made his way back once more into the cave. After closing his eyes for a short while, he suddenly found himself back with the others. The group had been split into two, Ken with the Hemulen, who was still astonished by him, and Mumrik was tending to Snuf’s injury. Since Ken was already occupied by the elder, Kyun decided to see if he can try to help out Mumrik. Snuf had his coat, scarf and hat stripped off of him, leaving him in a pale green vest like shirt. Mumrik was carefully trying to clean away the injury, making Snuf wince and grimace as the wound was unintentionally aggravated.

“Ow!” He yelped as pain shot right through his arm.

“Sorry.” Mumrik winced as he tried to be more gentle.

“You going to be okay?” Kyun asked hesitantly after biting his lip. He knelt down to see if there was something that he could help with, even if it was something as simply distracting the youngest from the pain a little.

“It’s only a scratch. Don’t-ow!” Snuf said, giving a poor attempt of a smile, trying to make it seem like it didn’t hurt anymore than it did. This only ended with him yelping again, almost like a dog in pain.

“Would you stop moving?! You’re worse than a child.” Mumrik scolded lightly. Kyun was close to letting out a quiet laugh as Mumrik sounded almost like an overly concerned mother then. Snuf only grumbled a little but complied. “What were you thinking? You could’ve gotten killed!”

“I didn’t know what else I could’ve done.” Snuf muttered, tensing up a little from the pain.

“He’s right, Snuf. We need to be more careful now. We can’t afford being too reckless.” Kyun said, his tone becoming serious. He started to worry that if the Lady of the Cold was truly part of the Organisation, who else with magic could also be involved in it? The Hobgoblin couldn’t have been because of what the Lady of the Cold had said before she retreated. She said that ‘we will have the Phoenix’. This only confirmed more of what was suspected. The Hobgoblin wasn’t with the Organisation, otherwise why would the Lady have said that? But this also fuelled Kyun’s determination even more. Even if the Hobgoblin was giving Shin some form of protection, as the others said he claimed to be doing, Kyun just wanted to see him again. He needed to.

“How bad is it? The injury?” Kyun asked, looking at the wound, his stomach doing what felt like unhealthy flips.

“Surprisingly enough, the wound isn’t too deep. My guess is that the arrow destroyed itself before more damage could be done. It might, however, need stitches-“ Mumrik sighed, putting down the blood soaked cloth.

“Stitches?!” Snuf exclaimed, looking like he was going to have a heart attack upon hearing that.

“-but bandaging it up might work for now at least.” Mumrik continued, ignoring the younger’s exclamation. He picked up a clean pad and held it to the wound. “Kyun, could you...?”

“Sure.” Kyun sighed as he held the pad, trading places with Mumrik. Taking a clean roll of bandages, he started to wrap up the wound. Finally getting away from the Hemulen for now, Ken stepped forward, being careful not to slip on the now melting ice. He watched silently as Snuf’s injury was finally patched up.

“Ready to leave?” He patiently asked.

“Just a minute.” Kyun sighed again, putting his gun safely back into his knapsack. Whilst standing up, he noticed a belt with a scabbard tied to it, was around Ken’s waist. Resting peacefully inside the scabbard was the Thunder Sword. “Isn’t that going to make things complicated?”

“Not really. Besides, the Hemulen insisted. Wanted to make sure I don’t hurt myself or anyone else by accident whilst carrying the Sword.” Ken shrugged, slinging his knapsack back on his back. Kyun only agreed by silently nodding, understanding the concern that the elder displayed. After seeing the power that the ancient weapon held, he wasn’t too surprised by the need to carry it safely. Mumrik tied off the bandage, cutting the extra length with his knife. Once this was done, Snuf packed away his coat, with one sleeve bloodstained and had an arrow hole in it, into his knapsack. He carefully pulled out a somewhat fresh coat. He slowly slipped it on and wrapped his scarf back around his neck. He was hesitant with moving his arm, not wanting to aggregate his wound more than it already had. He even reluctantly had Mumrik help him get his things on his back.

“I must say that you surprised me today. I thought that old age would kill me before the Thunder Sword choose its barer. Perhaps you’re a descendent of the one who last used it.” The Hemulen mused as he approached Ken. Despite Ken looking annoyed by being the centre of attention again, he had to partly agree with what was said. Though he didn’t want to say it out loud, he wasn’t sure if it was blood related, given how...

Ken mentally kicked himself just to stop completing that thought. He didn’t want to think back to...that life. He never had to think of it for a long time. He refuses to think about it now. He locked it away, banishing it completely. He watched as his friends were ready to leave.

“So what will you do with yourself now? By my guess, you’ve been keeping an eye on the Thunder Sword for a long time.” He asked, wanting to change the subject a little.

“Oh, I’ll just get back into botany. About time too. I’ve been sick of not studying it for a long time.” The Hemulen sighed, glancing over at the stone. Despite his somewhat enthusiastic response, he did seem sad. The elder must have been watching the Thunder Sword for almost his whole life and now that it was free, he must feel like that his life long job was finally over. He probably wasn’t fully sure about what he wanted to do with his life now.

“Sorry to have brought all of this trouble.” Ken sighed, glancing around the cave.

“Not at all. I wish you luck. I hope you find your friend.” The Hemulen smiled a little, holding out a paw. Ken hesitantly shook it and looked over at his friends. They were slowly making their way out of the cave.

“Thank you.” Ken said, before going to catch up with them. He felt like the Hemulen has smiled back, a final wish of good luck, as he walked away. Finally out of the cave, he could feel the sun kissing his skin, thankful that he was out of the dark. The ice trail had completely melted away, leaving nothing but damp grass and earth. Ken caught up to the others, faintly overhearing Mumrik making sure that Snuf was fine and the younger insisting that he was going to be alright, seemingly starting to become annoyed. Kyun was a little ahead, leading the group back to their original path. To the mountains. To where the Hobgoblin was hiding. To where Shin was being hidden.

“Well, this day hasn’t exactly gone as planned.” Kyun grumbled, looking straight ahead as he walked.

“No. But if you think about it, that’s actually a good thing.” Ken said, keeping up with his almost hurried pace.

“Oh? How so?” Kyun asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Ken took his time as he stared off into the distance. He seemed to be thinking carefully about what he should say next.

“Well, we know about one more member in the Organisation for starters. And two, that Hemulen helped us obtain a weapon that we can use against them.” He said, glancing down at the sword. It swayed back and forth a little as he walked, the tip of the scabbard gently tapping his leg a couple of times.

“And by “we”, don’t you mean you? Last time I checked you’re the only one who could use that thing.” Kyun said, sounding a little disappointed. It was reasonable to say the least. He was confident that he would be able to use it. Maybe he was lacking in something that Ken had. He shook the issue off, not wanting to start a fight again. He was more comfortable using a gun anyway. Ken shrugged a little, not quite seeing the difference. Either way, the Thunder Sword will be needed to fight anyone, with or without magic, that means them harm. Kyun took the silent as a half agreement. He looked up towards the mountains again. He’s happy to accept that. He was more glad though to be back on the road though. He won’t be fully happy until he sees Shin again. ‘I’m sorry this is taking so long, Shin. But I’m coming. I’ll save you. Just wait for me.’ He silently pleaded, wondering if by some miracle, Shin had heard his silent cries.

———————————————————————————

The doors slammed wide open as the snowstorm raged into the dark room. Strangely enough, they closed gently behind it. The Lady of the Cold formed from it, her face masked by rage. The room’s occupants were silent as she entered, clearly expected her to do that. The ground once again froze around her as she stood still. She glanced around the room, growling quietly as she received judgmental looks. However, her glare faded when she saw a familiar figure in the dim lighting. A man wearing a clean suit with a golden chain ending in the breast pocket of the jacket and shiny black shoes. However, his head was wrapped up in bandages with only his eyes, nostrils, mouth and one ear uncovered.

“Oh! Damien! How lovely to see you! Though, your face has seen better days!” The Lady of the Cold laughed, taking pleasure in the man’s punishment.

“Shut your mouth! You don’t know what I’ve been through!” Damien barked, sounding pathetic.

“Yes, Damien. We get it! Shin burned half of your face off. Serves you right!” The old woman sighed, her tone annoyed by the man’s pathetic attempt of a pity party. Clearly he had been complaining about what had happened at his home as soon as he woke up.

“Why you-?! Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t burn you, hag!” Damien threatened, pointing a threatening finger at her.

“Quiet!” The man yelled, his voice echoing. The three went mute and looked at him. He was sitting by the table, his features outlined by the crystal ball, which was as blank as a canvas at this point. The man looked at the Lady of the Cold, his stare almost piercing into her soul. “You were warned that the Thunder Sword might reject you again.”

“I would’ve gotten it if it wasn’t for that rat. The Sword is mine by my right.” The Lady of the Cold grumbled, acting like a spoilt brat that was denied of a toy that she wanted to have. A smirked suddenly crossed her face though as she remembered something. “Well, there is one plus side, I guess.”

“What’s that?” The old woman asked, her old ears peeking up at the Lady’s sudden cruel, joy.

“I hit one of those pestering pests with an ice arrow. Not a fatal blow sadly.” The Lady of the Cold smiled. Her smile was wide, stretching from ear to ear, and it was truly almost psychotic.

“What’s the point in telling us that?!” Snapped Damien, his arms crossed, fingers digging harshly into the material of his jacket.

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Smirked the Lady of the Cold, amusement continuing to grow in her voice.

“However, this doesn’t help us track down Shin.” The old woman sighed, massaging her temples.

“Thankfully, whilst the Lady of the Cold was playing sword fights-“ the man sighed as he touched the crystal ball. An image seemed to take form inside it once again as he did so.

“PLAYING?!” The Lady of Cold shrieked, her voice so high pitched that it could’ve shattered glass.

“-I have thought of a solution.” The man continued, ignoring the obnoxious, high pitched voice. The image in the crystal formed into that of an empty field. The man was silent for almost a full minute as he stared at it. Telling by how his eyes were shifting, the others could only guess that he was searching for something in particular. He suddenly made a noise of satisfaction as he found what he was looking for. He slowly stood up and looked at the old woman. “Might I suggest you get your broomstick and granddaughter ready. You’re going to retrieve something for me.” The old woman nodded. She walked out of the room confidently. As she did so, she stretched her hand out. A broomstick, blanketed by the darkness of a corner, shot straight out to her. She caught it in her had as the doors once again slowly closed behind her. The Lady of the Cold scowled quietly but made no further comment. She has already been through enough today and didn’t want to be given anymore heat for her mistakes.

“And what about me?!” Damien demanded, wanting to do something that he would deem as useful. At this the Lady of the Cold mentally slapped herself. Why didn’t the idiot keep his mouth shut?!

“You, Damien, will stay here. You’ve done enough damage because of your ignorance towards Shin’s power. You promised us the Phoenix and now you are rightfully suffering for not full filling it.” The man said, becoming more annoyed by Damien speaking out of term.

“But Elias-“ Damien started to protest.

“SHUT UP! YOU STARTED THIS WHOLE MESS, DAMIEN! AND ONCE AGAIN WE HAVE TO PICK UP THE PIECES!” The man, Elias, yelled at the top of his lungs. This stunned Damien into silence. Even the Lady of the Cold seemed uncomfortable  by the outburst. This was the one reason why she held her tongue.

“If you don’t mind my curiosity, what are you planning to do Elias?” She carefully asked. Elias looked at her. She braced herself for another roar of rage from the man. However, she was surprised when he slowly retook his seat. He interlaced his fingers together and rested his chin on them, elbows perched on the armrests.

“Patience, my dear. After all, goods things always come to those who wait.” He slowly said, a smirk being heard in his voice. The Lady of the Cold shot a confused glance at Damien, but the still, slightly shaken man only shrugged, just as confused as she was.

What was Elias planning?

Betsy Lee’s channel: click HERE

Chapter 1: Still Running (click HERE)

Chapter 2: The Burning Truth (click HERE)

Chapter 3: Secrets and Threats (click HERE)

Chapter 4: Still Fighting (click HERE)

Chapter 5: What Have You Done?! (click HERE)

Chapter 6: Not Again (click HERE)

Chapter 8: click HERE

[ghost-nabbers-imagines]

A family: Larry x Fem! Reader Part 1.

A/n Small warning of mentions of sex and a couple sexual scenes will take place but I don't know if I'll do full lemons or not, they're won't be a dull lemon in this. As always theres definitely cussing. Takes place in high school. An au where the apartments have ghosts and the cult exists but the red eyed demon doesn't. Anyways enjoy this little story hope it's good.

I woke up with the weight of someone's arm around bare waist. Looking down I see everything was still bare from the night before. The arm wrapped around me belongs to none other than my very best friend Larry. Yep you read that right best friend not boyfriend. Considering how lonely and well horny we had both been lately we decided a friends with benefits relationship would be a good idea.

With a small stretch I carefully pulled Larry's arm off of my body and pulled myself from the bed. I let out a small giggle as Larry readjusted to where he was cuddling a pillow. "Goofball." I scoffed grabbing my underwear and sliding them on as well one of Larry's many Sanitys Fall shirts. I made my way out into his bathroom brushing my teeth and making my hair look like I hadn't just spent the night having sex.

I also made sure to slip on my skinny jeans from last night. I frowned feeling the way I struggled to get them on. "Damn it. How the hell did I shrink my jeans?!" I huffed looking into the mirror. I lifted the shirt that was way too big on me. I had noticed my stomach was sticking out a tiny bit more but not a lot. On the plus size it looked like my tits had also gotten bigger.

When I exited the bathroom Larry's mom Lisa was leaning against the counter sipping coffee. "Morning (y/n). I didn't know you were staying last night." She said flashing me her warm smile. "Morning Lisa. I wasn't planning on it but by the time we finished with our art project it was so late I didn't want to wake you or my parents so I just stayed." I shrugged. I felt kind of guilty lying to Lisa since she was more like a mom to me than my own mother. I also didn't want to risk her finding out and not letting me sleep over anymore.

She finished her coffee and set the cup in the sink. "Well you know you're always welcome here. Will I see you for family dinner tonight?" She asked collecting her things for work. She seemed to pause reaching around her pockets while looking around the room. I grabbed her keys from couch and handed them to her making her smile. "Wouldn't miss it!" I beamed. "See you kids tonight then. Give Larry a kiss goodbye for me." She joked hugging me goodbye.

Once she left I went ahead and poured two cups of coffee. As I was making two plates of the eggs and toast Lisa had prepared I heard the bedroom door creak open. Larry stumbled out still tired. "Morning sleepy head." I smirked. "Morning." He yawned making his way over to the table. I placed a kiss on his cheek handing him his coffee. "What was that for?"

"Its from your mom."

"I don't get one from you?"

"No way you have morning breath."

He grabbed my arm pulling me into his lap so I was straddling him. One of hands moved to my hips the other to the back of my neck. He pulled me into a heated kiss sliding his tongue in my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss and pulled me closer. We stayed like that until we had to pull away for air. "Hurry up and get ready Johnson." I breathed getting up and eating my breakfast.

Once the two of us had eaten and he had gotten dressed we grabbed our bags and headed out to meet up with Sal. "You look good in my shirt by the way." He whispered as you approached your friends door. I smirked quickly tapping the door. Soon after Sal exited the apartment and the three of us left for school.

Sal and Larry had their first period together but I had it with our friend Ashley. The two of us were in the gym locker room changing into our Knockfell High uniforms.

"So then I told my mom i had important plans tonight and she actually told me that my brother was more important and to cancel. Can you believe that? So I told her you and I were studying for some exam."

I was laughing at Ashley's excuse when one of the other girls sprayed on her perfume and even though she didn't spray much it was like the smell surrounded me. My stomach bubbled and suddenly I could feel the eggs from that morning in the back of my throat. Nausea overcame me I couldn't help it so I ran into the biggest stall and collapsed onto my knees puking immediately into the bowl.

Ashley came over and knocked on the stall door. "You ok babes?" She asked concern lacing her voice. I finished puking and flushed the toilet. "Yeah I think so." I said confused. "Are you sure? You got sick this time yesterday too." She pointed out. I thought for a moment realizing she was right. Eveyday about this time I got sick. What the hell was wrong with me? I shakily stood up to leave the bathroom when a health poster taped to the door caught my attention. It was one of the new Planned Parenthood posters with information on pregnancy and STDs. My eyes grew at a sudden theory popped into my head.

"H-hey Ashes what's the date today?" I asked exiting the bathroom. "Its the fifteenth. Ohh Is it that time of the month that's bothering you?" She asked placing a comforting hand on my bag. I thought for a moment doing the math in my head. "I-I Ha-have to go." I stuttered grabbing my bag and running from the room. As I ran to town I silently prayed I was wrong that I had miscounted.

I ran straight to the store probably looking like a crazy person that passed by. But I got to the pharmacy quickly not even remembering most of my way there from how quickly I was going. The bell jingles as I make my way inside abruptly causing several shoppers and a couple employees to stop and stare. Ignoring their looks I made my way to the isle and started searching. I never knew how many types of tests there could be. I grabbed one I thought would work and made my way to the counter. The cashier was an older woman who started at me with a judging look on her face the whole time. I did my best to ignore her shoving the money onto the counter. The minute she handed me the bag I took off heading to the apartments.

I could feel warm tears falling down my cheeks and was breathing rapidly as I ran home. I ran straight into the building and into the elevator pressing my back up against the wall as it moved. Luckily my parents wouldn't be home at least I'd have privacy for my whole world ending. The second the doors open I bolted right into my apartment dropping my bag on the couch before running to my room. I went into the bathroom taking the test before sitting on the floor.

2 long minutes later the test read positive. I felt my whole world come crashing down around me when those little lines appeared. "How could this happen?" I mumble out loud. I was completely shocked, Larry and I were careful plus I had birth control. That's when a light bulb went off in my head. Struggling to pull myself off the floor I ran into my room. I didnt find what I was looking for in my bags or in my bathroom. I fished around in my dresser still not finding what I was searching for. That's when I remembered were I was last night and most nights.

"Shit shit shit!" I mumbled grabbingmy purse and my keys as well as hiding the test in my pocket before exiting my apartment. I made my way down to the basement hoping that Lisa wasn't home. Unfortunately as I opened the door she was in the kitchen making a fried balogna sandwich. As soon as I walked through that door the smell filled my nose and the nausea returned. I tried to swallow down walking farther into the apartment.

"(Y/n) dear why are you not in school what happened? Are you sick? You don't look like you're feeling too well?" She asked in her motherly voice. "Li-lisa I-" before I could finish my sentence I felt what was left of my food coming back up. I ran straight into the bathroom not bothering to close the door. As I threw up I could feel Lisa pulling my hair back. She held my hair back in one hand and soothed my back with the other.

When I finished throwing up I flushed the toilet and Lisa put my hair up into a ponytail. I learned up against the bathroom wall feeling tears spill down my cheeks again. Silent tears cascaded to the floor. Lisa filled up a dixie cup with water and dampened a wash cloth handing the cup to me and wiping my face with the cloth. "There there dear its alright. Why don't you and I go sit on the sofa and talk?" She suggested as I swallowed a majority of the water.

The two of us made our way into the living room sitting on the couch. Lisa left a comforting hand on my back as I struggled to breath. I let it all come out spilling every detail like more vomit coming out as words. Lisa continued to comfort me with a shocked expression on her face. "Are you sure did you take a test?" She asked handing me a tissue. I handed her the test before wiping my nose.

"Does Larry know yet?" She asked. I shook my head in response. "I just figured it out and got the test today." Lisa nodded her head for a moment clearly in thought. "Wait right here." She said grabbing her phone from the coffee table. She came back in probably ten minutes later purse in hand and changed into casual clothes. "Come on were gonna meet a friend of mine at planned parenthood. Just to double check. And they'll give you information on your choices." She informed me. The two of us made our way out to Lisa's pickup truck silently.

"Are you mad?" I asked breaking the silence as we turned off the road. She sighed stopping at a red light and putting her hand on my shoulder. "A little disappointed maybe but never mad." She smiled. It didn't take very long for us to get there. There was a handful of protesters outside the building as well as a few people passing by who stared at me with the same look as the cashier earlier. Lisa wrapped her arm around me glaring at the others.

About an hour later I was exiting the clinic with a handful of pamphlets and brochures and my head spinning. "Do you have any thoughts on what to do?" Lisa asked me as we climbed into the car. "I think I should talk to Larry before I make any decision." I sighed leaning back into the seat. Lisa nodded and we drove back home.

"You should call your parents over for family dinner tonight. Once the other kids leave we can all sit down and talk." Lisa suggested. She was always so smart and caring. I knew she would be mentally freaking out so it meant a lot that she was being comforting. "I just hope they're as nice as you're being. Thank you so much Lisa." I said with a small smile. She smiled back as we pulled back to the apartments.

Once we got back to her apartment I hid the test and pamphlets in my bag. "Larry should be home any minute now if you wanna wait in the treehouse to talk to him. Just promise me you'll be careful climbing up there." She said softly. I nodded giving her a hug which she returned tightly. When we pulled apart she handed me a water bottle. "Drink this while you're waiting. After throwing up you need to make sure you stay hydrated. Especially with my grandbaby in your tummy." She smiled winking. I smiled grabbing the water before making my way out to the treehouse to wait for Larry.

I walked around the small treehouse admiring some of the polaroids and pictures that Larry painted. I smiled seeing one of Larry and I. Sal had taken just a month ago. Larry had his arms around me as we painted something. He was trying to teach me how he paints but really it came out as a mess on the canvas. "That's a good picture of us." A voice said from behind me. I turned to see Larry standing there smiling at me. "Sure is. Look Larry I need to talk to you about something serious. Can we sit down?" I asked gesturing towards two beanbag seats he kept up here. He looked confused but nodded.

The two of us took a seat and I was suddenly nervous. We were only 16 we couldn't be parents. "Hey what's wrong (nickname)?" He asked grabbing my hand. I took a deep breath squeezing his hand before grabbing the test from my pocket. "I'm pregnant." I said simply despite the fear in my chest. Larry's eyes got wide and he grabbed the test from my hands. "Dude if this is a joke it's not funny." He said jumping up. By now the tears were starting to fall. "Its not a joke Larry." I sniffed standing up with him. "B-but how?" He asked running his hand through his messy long hair.

"I must've missed a pill or something."

"You missed a pill? How could you have missed a pill and not tell me!" He asked upset. "It happens Larry I don't know. But this isn't just my fault we did this."

"You're right sorry. What do you want to do have you made a decision on keeping it?"

"I don't know I wanted to talk to you."

"We're sixteen (Y/n) were too young."

"I know I know. But I don't think I want to abort it, it just sounds wrong. I believe women should have the right to choose but I don't want to abort our baby."

"Of course you don't I mean I wouldnt either if I was you. I don't know how I feel about adoption. I mean I love my mom and she did a great job but not knowing my dad and not knowing that part of myself was hard. I don't think I could do that to my kid. I always told myself I'd be there for my kid unlike him."

"That only leaves one option Larry."

He sighed looking at me for a moment before coming over and wrapping his arms around me. "Looks like we're gonna have this baby. If you're sure that is." He whispered holding me close. "I'm sure I want us to keep our baby." I replied. Larry pulled away a bit wiping away my tears. "Your mom went with me to the clinic and everything but we should go tell her we're keeping it." I told him looking up to meet his eyes. He honestly looked kind of happy. "Guess so much for strings attached huh." He joked laughing his melodic laugh. I laughed and we made our way out and back to the treehouse.

Ok that was it for the first chapter let me know what you think if you'd like but I'm definitely making it a series.

~Lex💛

[faunusrights]

‘AFTER THE FALL’ - LIVEREAD II

Part I (prologue to chapter three) here!

According to other people reading this alongside me, I have yet to even see the true extent of how, um... interesting some of the characterisations are? So, we can only do one thing: keep reading, even though I’m relatively sure the corpse of a sizeable moth was batted onto my copy :I

We’ve reached chapter three, and only now do I realise what a considerable chunk of the book that is? Blimey.

CHAPTER THREE

/gets six lines in /shuts the book

Look, I said I wasn’t gonna say it because we know I hate it but ughghghgh I hate canon Velvet soooooo muuuuuuuuuuch she’s SO boring I’m SO sorry but GOD--

Okay. Okay. Moving on. Yatsu is our narrator now so let’s hear how he sounds!

“Ash started crying and crying and crying--”

I know it’s inevitable that most names I picked for OCs will crop up elsewhere but... Ash? You tryna take Ash “Bottom Energy” Scarlatina away from me now? Can’t I have anything?

So, it was mentioned that apparently a recurring thing I’ll be seeing in this novel is Yatsu and Velvet being hitched together on the character development front, and honestly, I can see it happening here. They’re being made into one sort of unit and Yatsu keeps calling attention to that, which isn’t... great, ‘cause I’m kinda hoping we’ll see more individual development? But the current consensus is that It Ain’t Happening, so we’ll See, I Guess,

Okay, I love that Velvet makes spreadsheets on her Scroll. I deeply enjoy her making chats to keep track of stuff, because honestly what a mood that is.

‘Yatsuhashi whirled around in confusion, but Velvet was gone. He didn’t like losing sight of her; what kind of trouble was she getting up to now?’

Predictably, I don’t like Velvet being babies in any sense of the word, but I do like that Yatsu’s first worry is what trouble can she possibly fucking cause now? Velvet and her high chaos energy, whomst I Adore,

Also what the fuck is a breadfruit.

‘Professor Greene’s Stealth and Security class--’

UGH I wish we knew more about the classes they took in Beacon. Do you know how hard it is to write an AU in which the Fall of Beacon never happened and having to pull classes outta your ass? It’s HARD, Y’ALL,

Yatsu’s Semblance is... making people forget things? That’s. Weird but alright??? Sure??? Whatever???

Me, every time Velvet snaps: why is it I only get the Velvet I’m after when she’s being such a bi-- oh wait I have a type sorry continue as you were,

But actually God I miss chibi!Velvet pour one out for the cancellation y’all

“This is bad,” Yatsu said sadly.

Me to myself: I know it’s not good writing I know and you know but don’t say anything just move on--

Okay before I move on, I’m definitely seeing a lot of that Yatsu/Velvet hitching, and makes me Nervous because I love Yatsu and I love Velvet but I also love them separately so I’m holding out hope that they get split up at Some Point because they really have been written together pretty much the whole way, huh? 

CHAPTER FOUR

OKAY CHAPTER FOUR LET’S GO LET’S GO

It’s Fox time, and we’ve got an introduction to Copper, Fox’s mentor (someone mentioned it’s totally a 'The Fox and The Hound’ reference). And-- ah, he’s dead. That was quick.

‘Velvet sometimes let her feelings get the best of her, Fox thought.’

You think that’s bad? You should meet murpverse!Velvet, that bitch has never held a thought in her head for more than five seconds.

I’ll confess I’m now reading pretty far ahead before I have any commentary of note. I’m enjoying Fox’s narration far more than anyone else’s by a pretty considerable margin, and it’s probably ‘cause Fox -- despite saying literally nothing in canon -- saw a lot of people reach the same conclusion to his character? So this one is much easier to settle into. Also, maybe it’s ‘cause he was such a blank slate that the writing works better for him. I dunno.

Story-wise: Edward is-- okay, actually, side-tangent: Edward? We seem to really jump in and out of the colour scheme, huh? Anyway, Edward’s a shady mfer and LET VELVET DO SHIT ON HER OWN!!!!!! LET HER BE A DUMBASS OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!

‘That was the last time he;s underestimate [Velvet].’

Told ya, dipshitte.

Ooh, everyone’s Angery about Everything. Seems like the Mood Bombs are also more passively AOE than just being a Sudden Boom, because everyone’s got a MUCH shorter temper? Then again, mine would be Non-Existent in a desert to begin with, so maybe they’ve all got sand up their butts. Also, Gus is to blame for the Mood Bombs anyway! That’s a big F, kiddo.

CHAPTER FIVE

Flashback to the dance!

Awh, Ruby made her own outfit and cape. Li’l seamstress! Oh, dang, do you think Summer taught her? Or, at least, showed her how her cape was made? Aaaaa--

Lien remains... weird. I thought it’d be closer to a currency rate like Yen to the dollar (so thousands are worth much less), but the implication here is that twenty Lien is more like $20? The currency here is very weird and even I’m at fault for flip-flopping on it, but I honestly expected it to be more like Yen. Huh.

Coco likes Ruby’s outfit look at that senpai GO.

Oh, okay, so they met at the dance? For some reason, I thought they’d already been acquainted? I thought they mentioned that team CFVY were away in the show (and therefore knew them at least in passing) but apparently not.

Okay, so Coco’s dialogue is... weird? I’m not totally down for the voice the author’s chosen to give her, and the more I see of it the more I’m starting to notice it. That said, I can’t believe Coco has reeled off Ozpin’s whole speech for Ruby. I’d have forgotten three words in.

Still jumping back and forth on Coco’s dialogue. I’m not sure if I like it. Moving on.

Weiss is Big Bitch Supreme, I see. This flashback is striking me all wrong for some reason, but I cannot for my life of me say why.That said, Weiss unironically saying besties is the funniest thing I’ve read all week, so there’s that.

UGHHHHHHHHHHHH TIME FOR VELVET AND RACISM UGHGHHGHGHHHHGHGH IM GONNA GO GET LUNCH FIRST--

WAIT BLAKE’S THERE

WAIT NO I’M GETTING FOOD FIRST EVEN IF BLACK VELVET IS RIGHT THERE--

Okay I ate too many calories and walked my dog let’s do this before I have to take said dog to the groomer. On that note, I’m like halfway through the book already? This really is short as heck.

“You had something to say to me?” Velvet asked. The boy clamped his mouth shut.

Do ya? Bihh.

Also I LOVE that highlights from the initiation are playing so that Blake literally looks a thousand times more intimidating. I wish we’d seen more of that kinda thing in the show, with RWBY being the new hotshots and the dynamic they had with Beacon as a whole. But that would have involved not blowing Beacon up to fuck and then having the writers go ‘uh, what do we do now?’ so what the hell do I know.

OOUGH THIS BLACK VELVET,,, HHH,,,, MURPHY’S OTP IS HERE,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

“What should we do with him?” [Blake] looked at Velvet.

Kill him... and then... kiss....................................

“I don’t believe in fighting prejudice with violence,” Velvet said.

I wish y’all could have heard the sound I made at that. Canon Velvet you’re just so... soggy bread about this.

Blake shook her head. “that’s not how we deal with people like him where I come from.”

Blake yr so HOT... hey you should teach Velvet how you deal with people like him and then kiss. That said, are they talking about Menagerie there? Or the Fang? If it’s Menagerie, that’s even funnier because I love the idea of an idiot running their mouth and then having five families and a baby wail on them.

Blake hates dog-ears in their books. Bad news, asshole, it’s the BEST way to mark PAGES bookmarks are for the UPPER CLASSES who don’t realise BOOKS are TOOLS of EDUCATION--

Anyway. Moving on-- YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG.

Yang beat the assholes up anyway I love her!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HER!!!!!!!!!

CHAPTER SIX

Back with Velvet. Blessing or curse? Who knows.

Edward and Gus make for an. Interesting duo. This plot hasn’t captured my interest crazy well, and if I didn’t know this was RWBY and such I’d probably pass on it ‘cause it’s pretty... eh, but I do like their Semblances and this could’ve been a pretty decent side-plot thing in the show! Such as in My Hero Academia with, uh, whats-his-name... Eraserhead. I dunno. I’m thinking this was a good idea that hasn’t had enough space to breathe.

Emotions are Flying High and Whomst will be the first to crack like Egg? I am liking the method of raising tempers because everything’s a little sloppier and unpredictable! Also, that’s the end of chapter si-- what? Wait, chapter six was only ten pages? Yeesh.

For all in-tents and porpoises, I am tryna keep track of OOC moments, but having everyone be out-of-sorts is making is pretty hard to track. Rip.

CHAPTER SEVEN, I GUESS?

We’re with Yatsu again, and he’s talking about his Semblance to... make people forget shit! I still don’t know why this is his Semblance, or the use of it anyway, but whatever! I’m in this cart and the horse ain’t stopping until M+K says so!

I’m with Velvet here; why is she constantly being relegated to the backseat? Coco needs to fuckin’ get her shitte together on this front. Even Fox said earlier than he has to stop underestimating her, but they’re still doing it now.

OH MY GOD THERE’S A GRIMM JACKALOPE??? Holy shit I’m losing all of my marbles shouldn’t these guys have, like, other names????????????? No??? Okay!!!!

Battle scene. I’m not hot on combat in writing because I find it. Kinda boring. But it is what it is so I’m speed-running it.

And so ends chapter seven. I’m gonna stop here because. I want to! I feel like this story is very short and it could’ve already had more to it than this faffery in the desert, but that’s just me!!!!!! I guess!!!!!!!!!!! Next time: another flashback to the goddamn dance.