#before i burn out completely and i DON'T GET IT

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 8 (part two)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 6.2k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

A blood curdling shriek rang through the house, jolting Carter from her restless dreams.

She sat straight up in bed, heart racing as she looked around the dark room, head so heavy she could barely remember where she was or how she got there.

In her hungover mental fog, she pieced it together slowly. She was at the beach house, in her room, it was early, she drank so much last night and Topper said -

“OH MY GOD!” 

Another sharp scream came from downstairs, and her heart rate spiked all over again. She pulled the fluffy comforter around her shoulders and hurried out of the room, quiet on the stairs as she nervously approached the source of all the commotion.

When she saw what was inducing Sabrina’s shock, she doubled back, hiding around the corner so they couldn’t see her. Her stomach churned with bitter loathing, and something else even more nauseating…

She dropped the blanket and rushed to the half-bath off the house’s entryway, doubled over the toilet bowl as last night’s poor choices continued to haunt her.

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Rafe drove faster than he had before your interrupted rendezvous, seeming not to want to drag this adventure out anymore. You eyed him nervously from the passenger seat, searching for words that weren’t coming to you. 

Tongue tied and exhausted was not how you wanted to begin this…whatever this was between you. Rafe had given you words, so many of them, back on the beach and all he asked in return was a simple yes or no.

Are you my girl?

No four words had ever felt so heavy. The shitty part was, you wanted to say yes. At the sound of his breathless question every cell in your body was screaming yes! I’m your girl! I’ve always been your girl! 

But then there was that pesky piece of self preservation that cemented itself in your heart all those years ago and didn’t plan to give up any time soon. 

He looked so disappointed when you couldn’t give him a quick and easy answer, his chest now deflated and shoulders sunken as he drove the rest of the route home. Despite your lingering hesitation, you felt like you needed to give him something, needed to lift the frown that was settled on the lips you had tasted so many times this morning.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“For what?” He asked.

“I’m…slow,” you began, “it takes me a while, y’know? To find the words. I’m not like you, I don’t know how you came up with that speech in less than a minute.”

Rafe laughed, confusing you.

“What?”

“You think I came up with that speech in a minute?” He chuckled, “I’ve been practicing it every day since senior year of high school.”

Your heart clenched at the endearing thought of him in front of the mirror, driving to class, taking a shower all while rehearsing what he’d say if you ever gave him the chance.

“Oh,” you tucked your hair behind your ear.

It was infuriating, your complete inability to get a grip on your own thoughts and feelings around him. It had always been this way. You were well-spoken and sound-minded, until this one person was in your atmosphere, his presence your own personal kryptonite.

To be fair to yourself, it wasn’t just your own weakness for him that had caused you to build such high walls. When you were kids, he sometimes made you feel this way on purpose. He used to have fun watching you get flustered, just the right amount of flirting to send you into a tizzy, only to leave you spinning like a top with no one to stop you.

You truly tried to leave the past behind, burying it somewhere back in the sand on the beach. You reminded yourself that the Rafe of your memories was not the one sitting next to you right now. But that might just be the problem, because at least you knew that Rafe, you knew exactly what he would do next.

If he grabbed your hand, you knew he was about to drop it. If he said something sweet, you knew he was about to say something passive aggressive. If he acted like he loved you, you knew he was about to act like he’d never met you a day in his life.

But this Rafe, this new one, was completely unpredictable. Wild and dangerous in his apparent affection for you. How were you supposed to know what he did next wasn’t going to hurt? He was right about what he said on the jet ski - you won’t know until you give him the chance. Easier said than done.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he offered after you’d been quiet for a long time.

“This week has just been…” trying to come up with one word to describe it felt like a futile task.

“Overwhelming?” Rafe tried to help.

“Surprising,” you countered. “I’ve never been good with surprises.”

“You like to know what’s coming next,” he nodded, once again displaying a deep knowledge of you that you never knew he possessed.

Like he could read your mind, his arm stretched across the small divide and his palm, warm and soft, settled on your thigh, a single soothing stroke to let you know he’s still here, he’s still yours. The feeling of his skin touching yours was like aloe vera directly on the burn.

With a grateful smile, you leaned back in the seat and took a deep breath as he steered you home.

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Carter padded down the hall, stopping three separate times, trying to decide if she should just go back to her own room. But the sight of her frantic texts to you still saying “delivered” and not “read” was too concerning to ignore.

She opened Topper’s door without knocking.

He was sitting up against his headboard, typing feverishly on his phone. At the sight of her, he clutched his duvet cover, pulling it up higher over his nearly naked body.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” 

“Please, like I haven’t seen it all before. Like I didn’t see it yesterday,” she rolled her eyes.

“Oh okay, so you do remember. Based on the way you were acting last night I thought maybe you’d forgotten we’d ever been together,” he snipped at her.

“I don’t want to talk about last night,” she waved him off, dismissing his complaints flippantly, “are you aware of what’s happening downstairs right now? Of who is happening downstairs right now?”

“Yes, I saw her pull up,” he returned his attention to his phone and his frenzied typing.

Outside his cracked open door, Carter heard Kelce, Tom, and a few others come barreling up the stairs, chatting about the recent arrival.

“Be so fucking for real, did you invite her?” Carter said, attempting to lower her voice.

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this but you do this thing where you think you’re whispering and you’re actually not,” Topper informed her.

“Topper…”

“No, I didn’t invite her.,” he answered. “Actually I was about to ask if you did.”

“Why the fuck would I do that? I hate her.”

“Wow alright, hate's a strong word, Carter, maybe calm down a little.”

Ever since their knock-down-drag-out at the club last night, the arguing that was usually playful and lighthearted had an edge of actual bitterness to it.

“First of all, if you ever tell me to ‘calm down’ again, I’m going full Lorena Bobbitt on your ass. Second of all, you need to go down there and tell her to leave,” she flicked her hair behind her shoulder and held her chin up as she bossed him around. He hated that despite how mad at her he was, he fucking loved it.

“How does that job possibly fall on me?” He scoffed.

“Aren’t you Mr. Team Rafe-and-my-sister? Don’t you want to get rid of the reason they stopped talking in the first place?” She reasoned.

“I’m not gonna tell her she can’t be here,” he shut her down. “It’s not my house, and it’s really none of my business. Or yours.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, “oh yeah? Then who are you texting so much over there?”

“I’m just giving him a head’s up,” he shrugged. “She should probably know too.”

“And you’re just assuming they’re together?” She snarled.

“Puh-lease,” he rolled his eyes, “did you see them at the club last night? There’s no way they didn’t hook up.”

She wouldn’t accept it, couldn’t, even though she knew somewhere deep in her gut that he was probably right. 

When Rafe still didn’t answer any of his texts, Topper sighed heavily, “fuck it, I don’t care if I’m cockblocking, I’m calling him.”

Before he could dial, the house shook with the slam of the front door. Carter and Topper hurried out to the hall and hesitated at the top of the steps. Your lone voice carried up to them, talking to no one in particular as you muttered, “un-fucking-belivable.”

Carter actually did whisper this time, “I think it might be too late for that…”

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The feeling of Rafe’s hand, warm and steady on your thigh, as he drove the rest of the route home was so nice and comforting, you let yourself slip into the possibility that this could actually be it. Maybe you really could just leave the past behind you, maybe you really had finally found each other and it could just be simple like this.

But your fantasy didn’t last long.

Rafe parked in the spot across the street that you had taken Carter’s car from a few hours ago. Even when he turned the key and cut the engine, he didn’t remove his hand from your leg. 

“You ready?” He sighed.

“For what?” You questioned, eyeing him curiously, his face serious as he looked down at the site of his hand on your skin.

He shook his head like he didn’t know the answer himself, “reality, I guess.”

You placed your hand over his, smirking at the sight of your fingers encompassing each other’s, wanting so much more from these hands and truly believing you’d have all the time in the world to enjoy them. 

“Bring it on,” you gave him a small smile.

“He leaned across the center console and dropped a deep kiss to your lips, causing you to sigh into his mouth. All the times you imagined kissing him, you never thought such a rough-around-the-edges guy would have such soft lips. You felt like you might be able to spend forever with them on your skin.

When he finally pulled away, you reached for the handle of your door, beginning to open it, but Rafe reached across your body and pulled it shut again.

“What are you doing?” You asked in surprise.

He smiled that perfect, dimpled grin of his, “extra credit.”

You giggled as he hurried to climb out of the driver’s side, hurrying around to your door and opening it with a chivalrous flair.

“Wow,” you beamed, accepting his hand as he helped you down from the tall vehicle. “You weren’t kidding about trying to be a gentleman.”

“For you, I’ll be anything,” he flirted.

Despite your best efforts not to, you blushed, the red hue on your cheeks deepening when Rafe kept your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours as you walked back to the house. It was the first time he’d held your hand out in the open like this, where anyone could look out from the windows of the beach house and see the two of you together. It was foreign to you, his public display of affection, and yet it felt so right. You couldn’t help but wish it hadn’t taken this long.

“Can I ask you something?” You said quietly.

“Anything,” he squeezed your hand assuringly. 

“Why didn’t we do this a long time ago?” 

Rafe’s face fell slightly, watching his feet as they made less and less forward progress on the sidewalk, until he came to a full stop. The question was mostly meant to be lighthearted, a tease really, but his solemn reaction made your stomach twist with concern.

“I…” he started, voice unsteady, not meeting your eyeline, “I don’t know if I should tell you this but -”

You never knew what he wasn’t supposed to tell you, because before he could, a sickeningly familiar voice called out from the front porch.

“Hey guys!”

Head snapping toward the sound, you looked up, and there she was, as stunning as ever in that same signature everything-you’re-not-ness. 

Cassie Bryant.

Her face was adorned with a glistening smile, yours was noticeably not. Everything in you sunk, including the corners of your lips, completely unable to hide the way your heart dropped six feet under the ground at the sight of her.

She was somehow even more golden and glowing now than she was back then. Glossy blonde hair flowing down her back like a waterfall of silk. Her perfect, blemish free skin glowed in the early morning light. Her big, round Disney Princess eyes quickly found Rafe and flicked over your joined hands, clocking the way they were folded together in unmistakable intimacy.

It happened so quickly, and yet it felt like years worth of hurt and heartache compacted into one small moment. 

At the sight of Cassie on the porch, Rafe dropped your hand.

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Surely, any minute now, a camera crew would pop out from the bushes and announce that you were being Punk’d.

Or maybe it’d be the Mythbusters:

The myth? That you can actually heal from your childhood trauma with just four years of painstaking hard work. Well, we’re about to prove that all of that can be unraveled in the span of 72 hours! Also, we will be using your heart as our crash test dummy. Myth busted!

You didn’t look over at Rafe, couldn’t bear to watch the way he pulled his body away from yours, ever-so-slightly, almost imperceptibly. But you could feel it all the same, and you were sure she could too. 

Before Cassie could say anything else, the front door opened behind her, Sabrina stepping out of the house and taking in the unfolding scene on the lawn.

“Oh shit,” she laughed, “this is awkward!”

It’s like her main goal in life was to find new and creative ways to make your bad moments worse.

“Is it?” Cassie asked, seemingly unaware of the cause of Sabrina’s laughter. “We were just saying hi.”

She caught your eye as she said it, a polite but knowing smile on her lips. You realized with shock that she absolutely knew what was happening and was trying to make you feel better about it. You should just be grateful for the unexpected kindness, but something in you was suspicious. The Cassie you knew would’ve jumped at the chance to embarrass you, and she would’ve loved the way Rafe was treating you like you had the plague.

Plus, her taking pity on you, acknowledging the way Rafe had just hurt you, was somehow worse than her just being mean to you. You’d rather she go back to that.

“Y’all having a good trip?” She asked you and Rafe when the silence had lasted just a little too long.

You looked to Rafe, waiting for him to answer, begging him silently to say something that indicated that you were in fact having a good trip…together.

But he just said, “it’s been cool. Weather’s shit, though.”

“Yeah that’s what Sab told me, but I got a few days off my internship so I thought I’d come hang with y’all,” she said, eyes on you as she spoke, like she owed you an explanation.

“Well, welcome, then,” you smiled a polite smile that didn’t meet your eyes.

“You ready?” Sabrina asked, linking arms with Cassie, thick as thieves. 

“We’re going into town for some brunch if you guys want to join,” Cassie offered.

“That’s okay, I need to check on Carter,” you declined, all eyes turning to Rafe for his response.

“Uh yeah, I’m good here, th-thanks,” he stuttered, so awkward and shaky, a completely different person from the guy who was delivering monologues and sweeping you off your feet just a few hours ago.

Cassie just smiled politely once more as Sabrina pulled her into the car. As they drove off, you stood wordlessly with Rafe on the front walk, your chest completely hollow. You mustered some nerve and finally looked at him, head tilted, a completely unamused smile tugging your lips.

“Weather’s shit?” You repeated his words back to him.

“Look…” he began but didn’t finish the thought.

You just laughed humorlessly, shaking your head at him as you stormed off toward the house. Rafe stood frozen for a moment, kicking himself mentally and begging his brain to catch up with the moment, finally rushing off after you, but not able to before you slammed the door in his face.

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Carter and Topper exchanged nervous glances at the sound of you stomping into the house. 

They slowly and quietly settled on the top step, sitting forward to listen in as the front door opened and closed again, Rafe’s voice echoing through the house.

“Wait…” he said, following after you as you marched further into the house toward the kitchen.

You didn’t stop, “No, go ahead, you should go to brunch with her. Don’t let me keep you from a good time.”

“Wait, let’s just talk,” he pleaded.

“I’m too tired, Rafe,” you rejected him. “I can’t do this right now.”

“So you’re not even gonna let me explain?”

At the top of the steps, Carter and Topper simultaneously held their breath as they listened, both jumping as Kelce’s voice startled them, “what are we listening to?”

“Shhh,” Carter waved her hand at him, motioning for him to shut up.

Kelce plopped himself between them on the top step, shuffling a bit so they’d make room for him. He listened in, picking up your and Rafe’s raised voices quickly.

“Oh shit,” he barely whispered, “trouble in paradise already?”

“Dude shut up,” Topper cut him off.

Soon, Maddie, Tom and Jack joined the little huddle on the top step, each cluing in on the source of the entertainment in their own disruptive way before being shushed by the group and eventually sitting. You continued your argument with Rafe, completely unaware you were performing in front of a live studio audience.

“You don’t need to explain,” you told him, trudging down the front hall toward the kitchen. “I know exactly what just happened because it’s happened a thousand times before. What I don’t know is why I’m even surprised.”

“Come on,” he caught up to you, stopping you in your tracks as his large frame rounded you. “It is not the same as it used to be.”

“It’s exactly the same,” you side-stepped him, walking into the kitchen and dropping Carter’s keys on the counter. “I mean jesus Rafe, it’s the same fucking person! I can’t believe I’m here again, it’s like I’m having a nightmare where I’m back in high school. Next thing you know I’m gonna walk into homeroom and I realize I’m completely naked.”

“Sounds more like a dream to me,” he smirked, trying to flirt.

You just blinked back at him, your sharp eyes cutting straight through his head.

“Do you think this is funny?”

His smirk dropped, snatched right off his lips by your ice cold tone. Good. You’d been waiting years to wipe that shit eating grin off his face. 

Something new was rising in your chest, knocking out the embarrassment and sadness with a closed fist, a fury long buried coming back with a vengeance.

“I thought all that shit was behind us, over and done.” Rafe reached out towards you but you stopped him with your own rough grip, lowering his hand away from you and dropping it like he’d dropped yours.

“Oh, it’s fucking done alright, so fucking done,” you spat.

 “You’re really gonna let ten stupid seconds ruin everything that’s happened between us? You’re not even gonna give me the benefit of the doubt. You really think that little of me?”

“It’s literally only been two hours, and you’ve already lied to me once and pushed me away the second someone saw us. And you wonder why I'm having a hard time saying yes to being with you? It’s because I fucking can’t trust you, Rafe!”

“I don’t know what else I can do to show you I’m different,” he threw his hands up in exasperation. “This is so fucking unfair.”

“Are you being fucking serious right now?” You stepped towards him as you snapped at him. “You’re actually pissed at me?”

“Yeah, I am!” 

“Why?”

“Because I lost my best friend!”

Everyone on the top of the stairs winced, air sucked from the room when Rafe raised his voice at you. For all his flaws and mistreatment, he had never raised his voice at you before.

“Oh shit,” Kelce whispered.

“Shhh!” Carter and Maddie hushed him in unison, everyone leaning in a little closer to hear how you’d react. But you said nothing. They couldn’t see the widening of your eyes, jaw locked tight as you gave him space to follow up on his outburst.

“Do you really think it didn’t hurt me when you just up and stopped talking to me back then?” He took the space you gave him and slowly unpacked the hurt feelings he’d buried for years. “I know I was a dick, I shouldn’t have taken advantage of how you felt about me, I shouldn’t have strung you along. But when that shit went down senior year and you just ghosted me, I wanted to talk to you and make it right. I tried, but you blocked me out, you went from talking to me every day to radio silence without giving me a single explanation. That fucking hurt. And you’re doing the exact same thing now, not even giving me a chance to explain things. So yeah, I am a little pissed. I’m pissed that you’re just gonna throw it all away again over nothing.”

He waited for your response with baited breath, prepared for you to yell, or cry, or do something. But you gave him nothing, mouth closed in a tight line as you turned on your heel and walked further into the kitchen, lifting the coffee pot from its home and filling it in the sink.

He watched your back as you scooped the grounds into the filter and turned on the machine. Minutes passed and you remained silent, hands on the counter, looking out the big window towards the ocean while the coffee brewed one drop at a time.

Finally, after eight cups had dripped into the pot, you spoke.

“How was prom, by the way?” You turned to face him, the edge of the marble countertop digging into your waist as you leaned back against it, hands crossed in hostility over your chest. “I never asked.”

Rafe’s gaze fell from you almost instantly. He didn’t have to ask why you were bringing this up, the ‘hell hath no fury’ look on your face dragging the memory forth from its carefully hidden spot in the back of his brain. Nothing made him feel like a jackass quite like that memory, and based on the mocking curve at the corner of your lips, you knew it.

The memory used to keep you up at night. 

For a full year after it happened, it was like a fire poker bent into the shape of regret and shame was branding your heart over and over. 

Now, the burn was healed over, still calloused and red at the edges, but you’d done your best to cover the scar tissue in the healing balms of self-love and lots and lots of therapy. Still, it was the moment in your life you were the least proud of.

You’d thought it was gonna be you. Really, earnestly, completely delusionally, you believed when he asked for your help with his grand prom-posal that it was all a playful ruse to ask you to be his date. You stayed up all night, decorating three different poster boards with glitter glue so he could pick the one he liked best. You bought out all the battery-powered candles at Michael’s - he said he’d pay you back, he never did. You waited with him in the park until the sun set, giddy with the hope that he’d drop the ruse and pop the question any minute.

“What will you do if ‘she’ says no?” You attempted to flirt.

“I guess I’d just have to take you.”

Every muscle in his body flinched at the memory and the white hot regret he felt every time it replayed in his head.

The kid who said those words was such an asshole. Standing here in the kitchen, looking down at you, the love of his goddamn life, and facing the possibility that he might lose you for good, he wanted to ring the idiot’s neck.

Because he hadn’t asked you. He made you watch while he asked her. And he didn’t even give you a ride home from the park.

Fuck, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he was you, either.

Rafe felt about two feet tall, looking back at you with absolutely nothing to say. He was relieved for a second when you opened your mouth to speak first, until he heard the words.

“You don’t understand. The voice in the back of my head, the one I’ve spent years trying to silence, the one that tells me I’m not enough, that I’ll never be enough…it’s your voice, Rafe.”

He grasped desperately for a reply, but there were no words in the English language that made that statement any less devastating.

“Maybe that’s not fair,” you continued before he could come up with anything, “but I don’t think I have control over that. I don’t know how to undo it, if it can be undone. So those ten seconds that just happened out there? They’re  not nothing to me. When you dropped my hand at the sight of her, I felt like I was that stupid teenage girl again, giving my whole heart to the one person who knows how to break it. Blind and foolish and desperate for you to notice her. I don’t like that girl.”

You made it through the whole speech with a steady voice, up until the last sentence. Your voice cracked on those words, your heart doing the same as you pictured your younger self. The one who would sit on her bed for hours, rereading the texts she sent him and praying he’d reply.

Thinking about that version of yourself, you weren’t sure if you wanted to hug her or slap her. Surely, she’d hit you right back if she saw what you were doing now, potentially pushing away the boy she loved more than anything, finally having him within your grasp and letting him slip right through.

At the top of the stairs, unbeknownst to you, Carter was picturing that girl, too. She would roll her eyes at you back then, using sarcastic comments like “are you sure Rafe even knows how to read?” to mask her truer concern; that he could but he wouldn’t, and the heart you wore on your sleeve would end up crushed again. Even now, she couldn’t protect it, couldn’t save it from reaching out to this boy who did nothing but break it.

Frustration welled inside her, the absolute powerlessness to put an end to this cycle that hurts you feeling like a dark cloud over her head. The anger manifested into hot, watery tears gathering on her lash line. Without permission, one slipped through, rolling down her cheek slowly.

Topper caught the whole thing, and despite their fight and his resolve to freeze her out until she apologized, he couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out and stroking her cheek softly, wiping the tear away with a gentle swipe of his thumb.

They shared a look so full of unspoken words and tender emotions that they almost forgot about the conversation in the kitchen, until Rafe’s voice cut through the moment and pulled them from their silent reconciliation.

“Are you okay?” He asked you after you’d been silent for nearly a minute, trying desperately to compose yourself.

“Yes, that's all just a lot. I’m processing,” you sniffled.

“Take your time,” he said, pulling out one of the high back stools from the counter and motioning for you to sit in it.

Your body was so exhausted, even your stubborn anger at him couldn’t stop you from accepting the offer. You slumped on the plush stool, folding your arms on the counter and resting your chin on them.

“How do you like your eggs?” Rafe asked.

“Is that a pick-up line?” 

“Nope, just a question,” he said as he opened the high cupboard and pulled out a frying pan.

You tried to remind yourself you should reject his offer to feed you, you should storm out, you should tell him where he can put his frying pan…but you were hungry. And so tired.

“Sunny side up,” you answered.

He nodded and got to work cooking you breakfast, eggs and bacon sizzling on the stove, Rafe close by with a spatula in hand, silent as he stirred and flipped. You rested your head on your folded arms, eyes half-closed and brain sleepy, watching him. 

If you blocked out the last twenty minutes, you could pretend this morning was your real life, could let yourself imagine it really was all this simple and pleasant and sweet; he’d cook you breakfast, you’d make him coffee, and you’d kiss until the sun rose.

At the top of the stairs, Kelce stood and started descending, before Carter reached up and grabbed his arm.

“What are you doing?” She whispered.

“I’m hungry!” He whined.

“You can’t go down there,” Maddie scolded him, “give them some space.”

“Are we just gonna stay up here all day?” Tom complained as he and Jack stood to join Kelce’s crusade into the kitchen.

“Everybody sit down!” Topper whisper-yelled. “Give them five fucking minutes, you’ll all survive. You can fuck off back to your rooms if you want but no one’s going down there.”

Carter couldn’t help the heart eyes she made at him, surprised and delighted by his show of aggression in your defense.

Kelce groaned as he backed back down, Tom rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up as he trudged down the hall back to his room, Jack following with a huff.

“Kelce, I have a granola bar in my purse, c’mon,” Maddie offered, leading him towards her own door.

Alone again, Topper and Carter looked at each other for a long, quiet moment.

“I’m sorry,” she mouthed.

“I know,” he mouthed back.

She scooted towards him, nuzzling into his side as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, kissing her temple.

Downstairs, Rafe was done with your meal, scooping it onto a plate and sliding it to you across the counter.

“Thank you,” you sat up and began nibbling at a slice of bacon.

Rafe took the stool next to you with his own plate of food. You sat in silence for a while, only the sound of forks scraping against porcelain and the occasional “can you pass the salt?” between you.

Between bites, you rested your head on your arm again, nearly falling asleep.

“I’m so tired,” you mumbled sleepily.

“It’s been a long twenty-four hours,” Rafe agreed, taking a sip of his coffee.

“That’s an understatement,” you snorted, sitting up again and finishing the last bite of your eggs.

“What about…the next twenty-four hours?” He asked quietly.

You took a deep breath, the smile falling from your face as you considered the question underneath his question. You didn’t answer him right away, hopping down from the stool and collecting your plate and his, carrying them to the sink. Rafe was quick behind you, arm reaching around and pulling the dishes from your hands to lay them in the sink. His hand rested on your waist, turning you to face him, pulling you in. Reluctantly, and without returned tenderness, you let him.

“Rafe, I can’t…” you said sadly.

“Please just talk to me,” he pleaded, hands running up your arms and resting on your shoulders. You shook your head, blinking away fresh tears as you pulled away from him.

“It hurts too much, Rafe,” your voice cracked. “As great as the last few days have been, you can’t see that being close to you hurts me. I worked so hard to get over you. So this isn’t me throwing it all away, this is me protecting myself. Protecting what I’ve spent years rebuilding.”

“So what, that's it then? You’re just gonna go back to school and pretend this never happened?” The pain in his voice was palpable, and you cursed the part of you that wanted to reach out and make him feel better.

“I don’t know, Rafe,” a small tear slipped through, gliding slowly down your cheek.

“You’re just gonna stop talking to me, stop thinking about me?” He continued desperately.

You looked up at him finally, searching his face, nodding sadly.

“I’ve done it before.”

Hurt flashed in his crystal blue eyes, flinching like your words had burned him. “You didn’t…you don’t…think about me?”

“No,” you told him honestly, another tear joining the one before it. “Never. Because if I let myself think about you, I would’ve fallen apart. I’m not strong enough, I would’ve run to you, and every time I did that before, you’d let me down.”

“What about yesterday? What about this morning? Just think about the beach, everything was so good, it can be that way now…”

He reached out and cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing over the tears as he pulled you in toward him, kissing you out of sheer desperation. Like maybe if you tasted his lips, it’d transport you both back in time, back to the beach, back when he’d done and said everything right. 

You allowed him to take you there for just a second, before the incident on the front walk flashed in your mind again, the pain of rejection like a knife to your gut. You pulled away from him quickly, side stepping him and moving to the other side of the kitchen, creating as much distance between you as possible.

“No, no, you can’t just kiss me and act like what just happened with Cassie didn’t happen,” you shook your head rapidly, wiping your tear stained streaks with the backs of your hands. “I can’t do this right now, I need some time to think.”

It required fighting every impulse he had, but he didn’t push, didn’t close the space between you, didn’t try to regain the control he was so used to having. He just sighed deeply and nodded, eyes low.

“Okay, well let me know when you’re done…thinking.”

With one last longing look at you, he stepped away to the basement steps, stopping at the top and turning halfway toward you.

“Oh and that girl? The one who gave me her heart? For what it’s worth, I like her. Always have.”

With that, he was gone, the door clicking softly behind him.

Carter and Topper could hear you approach the bottom of the steps. Carter stood first, fully ready to greet you and grill you on everything that had happened since you last spoke. Topper could see all her questions and comments written on her face. He grabbed her hand and squeezed gently, stopping her before she marched down the stairs towards you. She looked at him in surprise but understood quickly as he gave her a slight shake of his head, whispering, “give her some space.”

Reluctantly, she nodded, allowing him to lead her quietly down the hall and into his room.

Your footsteps were heavy on the stairs, body aching. Your brain was so fried you couldn’t even pick one thing from the morning to focus on, like the part of your brain that processes events was temporarily out of order. So you stopped trying to think and just let your feet carry you to your bed, crawling under the covers in your clothes, falling quickly into a restless slumber.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

In your dreams, you were back in the kitchen with him, shoulder to shoulder in comfortable silence as you did the dishes together. Rafe washed and you dried. 

Only, it wasn’t the beach house kitchen, it was one you’d never been in before. And in that dream-state way of knowing something you don’t actually know, you were sure it was a kitchen the two of you shared, sometime in the distant, unwritten future.

(to be continued)

a/n: I'm so sorry, I had to do it.......also the prom thing may or may not be based on a true story and I may or may not have cried writing it....

also I’m sick and tired so I didn’t edit much sorry for typos!

please note: the taglist for this series is closed. For updates when I post, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs <3

friendly reminder that writers live off of reblogs, don’t forget to feed your faves! 💘

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, cheating, scandals, drugs, drama, family drama wc: 5155 a/n: hi everyone! i'm so excited for this piece of work as I have a lot of exciting ideas planned in store! this will probably have slow updates, so please please please be patient with me. thank you all for reading! i'm aiming for at least 15ish chapters, maybe more or less, depends how much i write in one chapter in the future. next chapter

“Cash or card?”

“Card.”

The sound of light dinging follows, the transaction completed. “Here you go, Miss. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, you too.” The woman takes the small bag from your outstretched hands, giving one last smile before exiting. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying her exit. You sigh and look at the clock, one more hour. It’s not that long. But you’ve been here since opening and the shoes you’re wearing are beginning to hurt your feet. Maybe you should’ve broken them in more.

It’s a quaint little cafe. Most of the customers are teenagers, college students, or overworked office workers who need caffeine to get them through the day. Other than that, you have no qualms. Of course, it does get a little annoying having to tell the newer, much younger co-workers that they can’t do this or that. 

A mundane routine of making coffees, packing orders, and ringing them up. Just one more hour. 

As soon as the clock strikes 5:00, you’re clocking out and saying goodbye. The school is an exact walk of ten minutes, six if you’re fast. Then another ten back to the apartment. And finally, another fifteen to the convenience store. 

Hustle and bustle is all you’ve ever known. Sure, you like it most of the time. But you just wish you could get a break. It’s always go, go, go, but never take a rest and time to yourself for a moment. But when you see that adorable smile plaster on those chubby cheeks you never shy away from pinching, it’s all worth it. “Mama!” 

“Baby!” you crouch down and open your arms. The young boy wastes no time in throwing his body into yours, face nuzzled into your chest and arms around your neck. “How was school? Fun?” you ask, hand rubbing his back up and down.

He nods. “Mhm! Mr. Ito says I got the most gold stars out of everyone in class.” 

Your smile grows wistful, aweing. “Wow, such a good boy, aren’t you?”

You carry Koji into your arms, starting the walk back to your very humble apartment. He chatters innocently the entire trek, with you occasionally adding on or asking questions. His soft white hair pokes at your cheek, to which you straighten down with one free hand. It’s days like these where you wish you could just lounge at home with him, basking in his sweet innocence. But while most people are ending for the day, you’re barely starting your second half.

You feel the self-deprecating thoughts fill your mind like a virus while stationed near the light, waiting for the pedestal symbol to indicate. Your grip tightens around your son slightly, as if anchoring yourself to reality and reminding yourself you’re doing it all for him, and to keep going for him. 

It’s hard, yes. But so is parenting. 

The symbol comes on and you walk, seeing the building of your complex in the distance. Forcing any lingering negativity away, you clear your throat. “So, what did you learn today, baby?”

Koji looks up at you. “We learned how to add! I helped Mina.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

He giggles bashfully, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek. Eyebrows raising as a sudden memory hits him. “Oh! And Mr. Ito said Dad Appreciation Day is next month. There’s gonna be food and music.”

Your smile wavers, footsteps momentarily pausing before continuing. “Oh, really?” you ask, inhaling a wavy breath of air. “That sounds like fun.”

“Mhm.” Koji nods, then tilts his head curiously at you. “But everyone is bringing their daddies. I wanna bring Papa too.” 

And you really try not to make your guilty grimace visible. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

“Can Papa come?” he frowns. 

No, he can’t. But you’re not about to tell your five-year-old that the reason his father can’t make an appearance is because he doesn’t even know he has a son. It’s been a difficult conversation for you. You’re not sure when or how to have these sorts of hard ones with children. So you’ve been dancing around the subject. Saying his dad is away on vacation, or fighting intergalactic dragons, or some other excuse you’ve been forced to use. He believes you, most of the time. But that doesn’t stop his curiosity and growing impatience. 

The last thing you want him to think is that he has no father in the first place.

He does. You’ve shown him pictures and videos occasionally. Of, and of course, he’s an exact carbon copy of the man. From his bright blue eyes, albino hair, and all the way down to his stubborn personality. You were a little annoyed when your only child took quite literally everything from his father, only leaving him with a couple of things from you–your nose and helpful nature. 

“We’ll see. Papa is busy, remember?” you gently reply, walking through the parking lot of your complex to the lobby.

Koji’s frown deepens and so do the metaphorical scars on your heart. “But Papa’s always busy! I wanna see Papa.”

“I know you do, baby. You will soon, okay?”

“Do you promise?”

You hesitate but eventually nod with a forced smile. “Mama promises.”

After leaving Koji with the babysitter, you give him a quick kiss and recite the list with the babysitter before rushing off to your second job. A convenience store. 

Not the most savory place, mainly because you get all sorts of crazy and odd customers, but also because you are close. You hate closing. But you need the second disposable income and this is the only place that fits with your schedule. It’s also a little more leaned back than the cafe, when there are no customers, you spend your time browsing the web for jobs.

You’ve probably sent in over 500 applications over the years, with not even half of those places reaching out. Even then, you’re not guaranteed a job. The job market is horrible nowadays and you’re living through it.

Whatever, you think to yourself as you clock in. One day at a time.

It’s around eleven at night when you're slugging back into your apartment, lights dim, and silence enveloping the place. “Thank you, Sana.” You mutter, exhausted but still sparing the 20-year-old a smile. You hand her a small envelope. “For today and last Saturday. How was he?”

Sana thanks you kindly and grabs her stuff. “All good, no tantrums today.”

“That’s good.” you walk into the kitchen, grabbing some food you’ve meal prepped. “Get home safe, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N. Sleep well.”

When she leaves, you give yourself a moment to slump over the kitchen island, sighing in both relief and lingering tiredness. The silence feels nice, like an old and familiar friend welcoming you and praising you after yet another day of the same routine. You’ve always loved routines, but you can’t help but crave at least some sort of spontaneity. Putting the tupperware of chicken and rice into the microwave for a minute, its light humming makes you zone out. The conversation from before with your son ringing in your mind like a very annoying bell.

Soon, images of his son, your ex, flood your mind. An old fluttery sensation residing in the pit of your stomach, your body suddenly feeling all too warm for your liking. Your fists clench to stop their light trembling, shaking your head free of him. 

Not now.

You stop the microwave at one second, before it makes that obnoxious beeping and wakes your son. There are two chairs at the small dining table, you sit at one of them and eat your now warm meal. You’ve started meal prepping after one too many missed meals and a few incidents where that light-headedness and blurred vision caused you to faint. Luckily, you were alone when that happened. Unluckily, you were alone when that happened. Nursing a few bruises to your forehead after making contact was not a fun time. 

You take time to eat, in no particular rush. Although you know you should be getting ready for bed soon for another early day tomorrow, your body doesn’t move. Either consciously or subconsciously. The end of the day is when you find yourself attempting to unwind and detach from the day’s events. But, the stress of unpaid bills, debts, and worry for the future always find time to crawl back.

It’s exhausting, extremely so. Sure, you’re an adult and this is normal. But don’t you deserve at least a little bit of time when you don’t have to worry about anything? It feels like every waking second your mind is working overtime, your body in a constant state of motion. It’s worn you down completely over the years. But you have a son who needs you, so you suppose you shouldn’t be feeling pity for yourself.

This is what parenting is all about, isn’t it?

Making sacrifice after sacrifice for your child. However, when you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper, slowly losing more of yourself, what if there’s nothing left to sacrifice in the first place? The eviction bill from this morning taunts you as it lays upright in front of you in the middle of the table.

It’s then do you think, no, you do have one thing left. 

Koji.

If Koji’s gone, then you really have nothing left. There’s no reason to live if that happens. And with the path you’re going down, that’s feeling more and more like a dreaded possibility. 

I wanna see Papa.

Koji’s words play repeatedly. For a second, you feel yourself resonating with your son. Only for a second. You reach for your phone and go to Google, typing in a name that still haunts you. You’re barely three letters in before his name appears and you’re clicking.

A smiling image fills your screen along with other general information.

For some unknown reason, your breath hitches. You feel like he’s almost staring at you, smiling at your pathetic predicament. Grip tightening around your phone, swallowing down an unexpecting lump, tears fall from your eyes and onto the phone screen.

Why you’re crying, you don’t know. It could be many things, but you won’t address that right now.

Gojo Satoru.

The father of your child, your ex of 4 years. 

You rarely look him up, almost never. Only in desperate times when you feel yourself drowning and needing some sort of comfort. It’s stupid. You haven’t been together or even seen him in seven years. Not since you ended things with him. Not since you felt his hands roam your skin, whispering sweet words.

He didn’t even protest or question why. Almost like he knew your breakup was inevitable. You’re not sure if that hurts more.

You’re twenty-eight now. But while your life still feels the same from when you met Satoru at the ripe age of seventeen, you’ve reached a plateau. But him? He’s thriving, of course. Making a name for himself, as an heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, the Gojo Group. 

You’re happy for him. But where is that happiness for yourself?

You feel a little, no, a lot jealous. You always were of Satoru. Being given everything he wants without much thought, never worrying about money, and a stable home life. You’re extremely jealous of that bastard.

But right now, jealousy isn’t in the picture. It’s your son’s father. And if you want to keep your son, give him everything he wants, that starts with one person.

Letting him meet his father. 

“Honey, do you like your pancakes?” you ask your son who’s currently scarfing down his plate of breakfast. Adorned in an adorable shirt uniform shirt and some little black trousers. He hums back excitedly with a muffled “yes, mama”. With a chuckle, you dry up the rest of the dishes, then your hands. Dropping him off at school is the first thing on your agenda, as per usual. 

The walk to his school is a familiar one, wanting to get your son knowledgeable with the route so when the day comes that he needs to walk him himself, he’d know his way back. You pass by other kids and parents, some children yelling bye as they step onto the school grounds, with others giving their children long-lasting hugs.

You walk until you reach his door, his teacher, Mr. Ito, standing outside and greeting his students as they enter. When he makes eye contact with Koji, he smiles a bit wider. “Good morning, Koji.”

“Good morning!” your son happily replies, waving up at his teacher. With one final hug and kiss shared, he’s running in to already begin talking to his friends. Standing back up, you see Mr. Ito already looking at you. And you especially don’t miss the way his eyes not so subtly rake up and down your figure. You clear your throat. “Good morning.”

He meets your eyes again. “Good morning, Y/N-san. How are you today?”

“Good, and you?” 

“Very good.” 

The way his tone is almost causes you to visibly shiver, brows furrowing slightly in discomfort. One of the things you dislike the most about Koji’s school, his teacher. Although he hasn’t outwardly done or said anything inappropriate, you’re a smart woman. “That’s good. Well…have a nice day.” Doing anything you can to quickly end this dreaded conversation, but still wanting to maintain a level of politeness. 

You’re about to turn on your heel and leave when he calls out. “Ah, Y/N-san?”

Damn it, what now? “Yes?” you turn and look at him.

The distance between you reduces as he steps a little closer. “I have some concerns regarding Koji’s behavior in class. Would you be available to set up a conference anytime this week?”

“Behavior? Has he been misbehaving?” You did not expect that.

“Well, it’s complicated. He has some trouble listening as talks when he shouldn’t. I’d like to nip this in the bud before it grows out of control.” Mr. Ito cooly replies, smile looking more like a hidden smirk. “So, will you be available?”

You hesitate, not really. With your two jobs, you barely have time for yourself, let alone your son’s teacher. But if it’s regarding a behavior problem, then do you have any choice? “I think I’ll be free this Saturday. Weekdays are very hectic for more.”

He nods. “That’s fine, we can grab coffee.” When your head tilts slightly, he adds on with a chuckle. “And discuss Koji over coffee. On me.”

Right, of course. You know what this is, but just think about your son. That’s the priority. “Okay, 8 am at Latte Lounge sound good?”

“Sounds excellent, I’ll see you then. Have a wonderful day.”

With a simple nod back, you turn around and finally leave. Practically feeling the way his eyes shamelessly check out your behind. A frown inevitably grows on your face, why wouldn’t it? As long as this man doesn’t try anything…more, you should be fine. And if he does, 1) you’ll be in public, and 2) you’ll tell him straight up.

Whatever. 

“Pizza or teriyaki?”

“Pizza!”

“Of course.” you chuckle and put the frozen pizza in your cart, your son clutched onto your right hand after announcing he can walk on his own because he’s a big boy. The grocery store isn’t crowded during this time of day. Rightfully so. It’s 7 pm on a Tuesday, most people already cooking dinner by now. You always grocery shop at this time, your son appreciates it too. There’s been a few times when you both got quickly and very overwhelmed with the bustling nature of the grocery store on a weekend morning. Currently, you’re moving through the snack section now, picking up a few of your and Koji’s favorites. 

“Mama, can I pick a cereal?” Koji asks and points to the cereal aisle next over. When you nod, he happily runs off. You still however make sure to look over at him frequently when picking up and putting down a few snacks. 

You reach up to grab a pack of Hello Panda, the pink and chocolate ones, before a hand beats you to it. “Oh, I’m sorry.” As soon as you look over, you and the stranger meet eyes. 

Immediately, there’s a silence that falls over you two. Eyes each blown wide in shock. 

Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.

Just your luck. As soon as the stranger speaks, a strange nostalgia fills you. “Y-Y/N?”

It almost sounds weird coming from his lips. Your friend–well, ex?--friend gets out. He still looks the same, just more…manly. 

“...Suguru, I–I’m… surprised to see you.” you awkwardly laugh. Reunions were never easy.

“Oh my god,” Suguru breaths out, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Well, shit. I mean, how are you? You..you look good.” His eyes move down your figure in an appreciative way.

“Thank you, I’m good. How are you? Your hair is longer.” you motion to his sea of black, healthy locks. “ ‘M a little jealous.”

He laughs with you, the sound reminding you of old times. “Yeah, been working on it. And I’m good.”

Another pause is permitted, as if you two aren’t very sure what to say to one another. Well, in all honesty, it has been seven years. “Well,” he clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, you know,” you glance down at your cart. “Just some shopping.”

He also looks down, head tilting slightly. “Ah, right.” With a nod, he juts his head toward the direction of the kid’s toothpaste. “Just for one?” He laughs, joking of course. 

You mentally curse yourself, putting a pack of cookies on top of the toothpaste to hide its already revealed existence. “Uh, ye—”

“Mama! I want this one!” Koji runs up to you, showcasing his desired cereal.

Well…..shit. 

As if things weren’t already complicated.

With Suguru’s eyes even wider than when they were staring at you, his mouth is practically on the floor when the young boy looks at him. His sharp eyes dart across his features and…..

“I-is this—”

“Koji.” you cut him off, gulping and shifting the child closer to your leg. “My son.”

Suguru spends another good minute staring at the boy, who innocently stares back. When his eyes slowly move from the blue ones to yours, there are a million and more questions swirling in his brain. He’s not even sure which one to ask first. But he goes with the obvious. “...Is….is he…..”

You nod uncomfortably. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, hand running through his hair. “Holy shit, I mean….holy heck.”

Your lips purse, putting Koji’s cereal in your cart before picking him up in your arms. “Koji, this is Suguru. Say hi.”

“Hi.” Koji childishly smiles at the older man. “Are you Mama’s friend?”

Suguru spares you a glance. “Uhm…yeah. Yeah, kid, I am. Nice to meet you.” He then shifts weirdly, not sure if he should shake the boy’s hand, which seems too formal. He decides to gently ruffle his hair. “So…how old is he?” The question is directed towards you, but Koji answers. “I’m five!” He holds up five small fingers. 

“Five?” Suguru’s brows furrow at you. It’s surprising how quickly you recognize that scolding look of his. “Have you—”

“No.” you once again cut him off, shifting Koji to your hip. “I haven’t.”

“Why?”

That’s a good question. One you know the answer to…slightly. But with Koji looking between you two curiously, you can’t exactly say why. At least not here. “I….I just…haven’t.”

Silence. 

You can feel Suguru regarding you with many emotions, but the main one is confusion. He bites his lip as he thinks over how to react properly to this situation. From the looks of it, Koji is just as clueless as him, maybe even more. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what to say right now.” Heavily sighing, he looks back at Koji, then you, then Koji, then finally you. “You’re going to…right? I mean, he deserves to know, Y/N. You’ve just–I mean, come on.”

There’s not much of a response to that, much to his expectation. You always used to do this when you were guilty. But Suguru has always been the more… empathetic of the two. “Look, I–I know you’re probably going through your own things, but…”

You look at him again, remorseful. His lips purse and with a heavy sigh, he takes a card out from his pocket and hands it to you. “Here’s my business card, it has my number. We lost your old one, so.”

Your hand reaches out to take it, examining the words, Rising Futures Foundation. "Building futures, one child at a time.” You meet his eyes again, forcing words out. “Okay…thanks.” 

“No need,” he waves you off, taking down the two Hello Panda boxes and putting them in your cart. “I’m sorry, I have things to do right now, but please…give me a call, okay?”

With slight hesitation, you nod. He mirrors you before focusing on the child again, a smile forming. “See you, buddy.” Suguru pats his shoulder lightly before walking away and away from your vision.

Your mind is being overrun, body feeling stiff and stuck, unsure of how to process what the fuck just happened. No doubt he’s about to tell his best friend. Then said best friend will find you and Koji. Then maybe he’ll try taking you to court for hiding his son for five years. You’ll obviously lose because you have no lawyer and Satoru has the best. Your son, your one and only, your sole happiness will be taken away from you and you’ll be left alone to rot in angui–

“Mama?” Koji’s small hand is put to your cheek, stirring you from your mild comatose state. “Are you okay? You have tears in your eyes.”

“What?” Raising your hand to your eye and sure enough, you are letting loose some tears. “No, no, Mama’s okay. I’m not crying, just…just tired.”

But with growing age, so is his perception. “Are you sure? Did your friend make you cry? I don’t like him then.”

Oh, how sweet. You smile, head tilting. “No, baby. Don’t say that, okay? Mama’s fine. I promise. See? I’m smiling. Wanna smile with me?”

Like clockwork, he follows your emotions and smiles, giggling. “Yeah, I wanna smile with you. I like smiling with you, Mama.”

“And I like it when you smile with me too.”

Maybe, this isn’t too bad. You were just thinking that you want Koji to finally meet his dad. So, this is good. This ensures a meeting. But, it also ensures a deep-rooted, most likely bad confrontation that will take place between you two. Why wouldn’t it? At least you’ll be able to prepare yourself now, mentally. 

You can imagine the harsh words he might say. The raised voices and brutal questions about how you can do this to him and so on. In hindsight, you deserve it. What kind of woman does do this to a man? Children are supposed to be bundles of joy, not hidden secrets. Of course, there’s the lingering worries of what legal action Satoru, or his family, might try to take.

That would quite literally fuck you over so hard.

But…maybe Satoru will go easy on you because of your past. You really don’t know. This situation is messy as fuck and it’s mostly—a lot—because of you. You have no one to blame but yourself. Hopefully, he’ll take pity on you, even though you hate when others pity you. It’s different when it comes to him, the father of your son. It always has been and it probably always will be. 

Honestly, you’re a little relieved that you ran into the best friend of the man than the man himself. Now that would’ve been bad. 

The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixed with heavy grunts and airy moans. The headboard repeatedly hitting the wall plays like a drum, the lights dim and the view of the dark city landscape is exposed. Satoru’s gripping the woman’s hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in her fair skin. Her constant mewls sound heavenly in his ears. “God, you feel so….good…”

“S-satoru!” 

“Yeah, say my name. Just like that, baby.”

He presses a firm hand down on the small of her back to keep her arch in place, feeling his release invade her warm walls, filling her with a lovely warmth. She clenches around him, moaning out once more as she finishes with him.

He collapses against her back, his heavy breaths tingling her ear. “Baby, that was…so good…” she croaks out. 

Satoru’s mind is fuzzy, vision blurring slightly. He hums in response and leans back up to pull out, discarding the heavy condom with his load into the trashcan beside the bed. “Stay.” With a small pat to her hip, he’s forcing his limbs out of bed and to the connecting bathroom to grab a warm rag. Aftercare. Although most of the time, he really can’t be bothered to do something like this. Cleaning her up feels like a chore sometimes,  but the last time he voiced that opinion, it led to a huge argument between the two. 

In just a few minutes, they’re both cleaned and changed. Wearing his sweats low on his hips while she indulges in just one of his oversized shirts. Another small pet peeve he has. And another thing he must keep his mouth shut about. “What time do you have to go into the office tomorrow?” Himari asks, snuggled up against his chest, dainty fingers tracing circles along the firm muscles. 

“Same time as always,” he sighs, grabbing the TV remote and putting a random show on. “You know that.”

“I know, but…can’t you just call off tomorrow? Please? I wanna spend the day with you.”

When he looks back down at her, she’s frowning. A small tug is pulled at his heart and before he knows it, he’s pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Can’t, baby. Maybe this weekend?”

Satoru can feel her ready to protest again, but the sound of the front door downstairs being opened and closed interrupts the moment. Followed by the familiar voice of his friend. “Satoru! You here?”

Satoru’s brows furrow slightly. A small grunt falls from his lips as he maneuvers Himari off his chest, standing up and walking out. He looks down the staircase and sees Suguru staring up at him. “What do you want? I’m sorta busy.” Himari comes out and hugs his waist, proof of his so-called “busyness”. 

Suguru holds back an eye roll when the woman gives him a look, focusing on his best friend. “Need to talk to you. Privately.” 

“For what?”

“It’s important.”

“So just say it now.”

“Damn it, Satoru. Just come down and kick your friend out.”

“Girlfriend.” Himari corrects with a scowl.

“Yeah, sure.” Suguru waves her off and motions for Satoru to come down as he walks into the man’s kitchen.

Sighing with his eyes closed, he turns to Himari. “Sorry, babe. My driver’ll give you a ride back.”

Once again, she frowns. “But I—”

“Please.” 

His bottom lip pokes out in a small, but convincing pout. “I’ll see you later, mkay?” Satoru reaches his thumb out and brushes it along her cheekbone, which he knows she’s weak for. Confliction and hesitation dance in her eyes but she concedes. Gathering her purse and shows, she gives Satoru a dramatic kiss on the lips before leaving. 

“Finally,” Suguru huffs from the kitchen, swirling a glass of whiskey. “I thought you guys broke up.”

“It was a break.” Satoru grumbles, walking over to stand across from his friend, snatching the glass out his hand and sipping. “Anyway, what’s so important you come unannounced for and demand my sweet company to leave?”

“That woman is not sweet.” 

Satoru smiles and shrugs, “She tastes it.” 

A groan is heard from Suguru, eyes rolling before he shakes his head. “Look, you should sit down.”

“That good, huh?” he plops down in the nearby chair and leans back, arm resting against the back of it. He nods. “Alright, shoot, baby.”

Suguru takes in a deep breath and steels himself for the more than likely hard conversation. A part of him feels like he’s intruding, like it’s not his place to reveal such a thing to him. But at the end of the day, it’s his best friend. And you, well…he’s not exactly sure if you’re still friends or not. “What I tell you might sound crazy, but I need you to promise you’ll stay calm until I’m done speaking, got it?”

Satoru’s brows raise in mild astonishment, seeing Suguru get all serious like this is quite amusing. “Okay, I promise.” He shrugs again. “Can’t be that bad, right? No one’s hurt.”

Not yet, Suguru says to himself. He claps his hands together, mulling over how exactly to break the news. “So, I came across an old friend today.”

“Oh yeah? She cute?” Satoru swirls the alcohol in his glass.

Suguru holds back another eye roll. “Yeah, she is.”

“Nice, man.” the white-haired man chuckles, head tilting. “So what, did she make a move on you or something? Now that’s crazy.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m actually quite favorable amongst women.”

“Are you now?”

“Listen, you ass. No talking, just listening.” When he doesn’t get a response back, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Anyway, I saw an old friend. And…she had a kid with her.” Satoru nods slowly, already getting lost on his this information is even remotely crazy, or relevant to him. But he stays shut, deciding not to face another one of Suguru’s mini-lectures. One more deep breath is let out from Suguru and he gets to the point. “It was Y/N, she has a kid.”

A small beat of silence follows as Suguru gauges his best friend’s reaction. He doesn’t look like he’s flipping out, but he doesn’t show much emotion either. Confusing Suguru, he waits for the inevitable lash out. “Who?” Satoru ends up asks.

His best friend knits his brows, trying to see if the other man is serious or not. When his expression doesn’t change, he replies. “Y/N…” he speaks slowly. “...your ex?”

Still, no emotion. But his grip on the glass does tighten.  “And she has a kid.” Suguru reiterates, almost in nervousness now. 

“Satoru….the kid looks exactly like you.”

a/n: thank you guys for reading!!! Sorry if this chapter was a little short, i’ll try to make the next ones a little more longer. But writing super huge chapters isn’t my forte. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter 2 :)

[maybanksmusings]

THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK

SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.

WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!reader, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE ; buckle up pookies, as this is merely part one of a multi-part fic that spans as far as the end of season three ( on the fence about season four but we will see ). as noted above, this fic will be canon adjacent, mainly focusing on the storyline as portrayed in the outer banks chapters of the 'netflix stories' mobile app. without any more of my yapping, i hope you all enjoy!

you can't help but squint once you step off the bus, your dollar store sunglasses doing very little to shield your eyes from the burning, outer banks sun. you bring your hand up in an attempt to further protect your eyes, needing to make your way to the seahorse hotel and fast.

a flash of long, blonde hair invades your vision, something you don't think twice about until the body attached to said hair knocks right into you, saturating your white tank top with her oversized cherry-coloured drink.

there's a beat of silence between both of you, behind darkened lenses your eyes bore into the girl before you. if looks could kill.

"shit! i am so sorry!" the blonde apologises, face turning as red as the newfound stain on your shirt. her hand darts out in an attempt to miraculously wipe the stain away "oh god, this is so embarrassing."

a part of you feels empathetic, it was an easy mistake to make in hindsight. another part of you wanted to push past the girl and continue getting on with your day.

"my name is sarah," she continues rambling, her hand still frequently scrubbing at the stain, making it worse "i didn't get your name, well no shit" the last part is barely a mumble, but you still catch it.

an unintentional laugh escapes you, finding amusement in her panicked awkwardness "if i tell you will you stop feeling me up?"

it was a joke, at least mostly, yet sarah froze in horror as the realisation set in. she was feeling up a stranger at the bus stop.

before she can begin rambling again, you speak up "my name is y/n." purposefully, you drop the surname. sure, sarah seemed sweet, but that didn't warrant spilling your life story at her feet.

sarah nodded in acknowledgement, taking a step out of your personal space and taking a proper look at you "touron?"

your face screws up, it feels like she just called you a name you couldn't repeat "excuse me?"

"you're a tourist, right?" sarah clarified, gesturing towards the scruffy backpack hanging from your shoulder.

"not quite," you trail off, unsure of how to broach your new arrival without dropping yourself in hot water "just, in town for a while."

"unlucky you.."

"unlucky how?"

sarah links her arm through yours, all but dragging you down the street alongside her "i'll fill you in on the way."

your protests and kidnapping allegations fell on deaf ears, only being told to stop being dramatic as she dragged you along. eventually, the dragging falls back into you willingly walking with her through pristine neighbourhoods that housed buildings like nothing you had ever seen.

you listened as sarah explained the outlandish rules that accompanied living on the island. the outer banks were essentially split in half, the kooks and the pouges, the haves and the have-nots, the sarahs and the y/ns.

when her pace eventually stalls, you have to tense your jaw to stop your mouth from falling open. you had seen some serious houses on the way here, but compared to sarahs they looked like dives.

"welcome to tanneyhill" sarah beams, but you can feel the uncertainty bubbling inside her as if she was embarrassed "come on, i'll show you my room."

you follow her through the glass doors and into the manor, eyes intently scanning the walls as you climb the staircase "you make a habit of bringing random strangers into your house?"

"do you make a habit of going home with random strangers?"

"depends if they're my type."

your quick rebuttal elicits a laugh from sarah as she pushes the door open, waving you into her room and heading straight for the closet "and what is your type?"

"you sweet on me, stranger?" you tease, your playful tone making it clear you were simply messing with her.

"with my whole heart, newbie" she laughs, the contents of her closet being dropped to the floor as she rifled through it "but our secret love affair must remain hidden as i am a taken lady"

with a dramatic gasp, you slap your hand to your chest and fall back on the bed "you wound me."

"sarah 'the heartbreaker' cameron is what they call me." as you're processing her surname, a white cropped tank is flung at you from the opposite side of the room "now, come on, boy talk"

"what if i wanna girl talk?" you question, holding the piece of fabric up to examine it "sarah 'the homophobe' cameron more like"

as she crosses the room to sit alongside you, sarah rolls her eyes "my sincerest apologies, sex talk then"

"cameron now i really think you want me." you wiggle your eyebrows at her, huffing when she hits you with a pink pillow with a sparkly 's' "hey! watch the rhinestones"

"you know, i was gonna try play matchmaker at the boneyard tonight but if you wanna be like that.."

"you just said a lot of words with very little meaning" you tut, not fully clued in on the outer banks slang.

by now you have risen to your feet, standing between the bed and the window as you changed into the clean shirt, balling up the stained one and stuffing it in your backpack.

"its a pre-storm rager on the beach, the one place kooks and pouges get along. we party as long as we can and when the storm hits, run for cover"

you're only half listening to sarah, instead your attention hones in on the head of curly brown hair down on the dock as it moves along a boat named 'my druthers'.

you barely register the figure by your side, watching just as closely as you were as the brunette is joined by three others, laughing and joking.

"that would be john b," without looking you can hear sarahs grin, mistaking your fascination for attraction.

"routledge?" your mouth opens before your brain can stop it, you knew who it was, but you needed to hear it.

"you know him?"

finally, your brain catches up and you somehow manage to pull a lie out of your ass "not personally, saw him on tv. some appeal for his dad."

sarah bellows out a soft, sad sigh, letting her thoughts be known without saying a word. there's an unspoken air of silence between you, until sarah, literally, shakes it off and stands upright again.

"wanna meet him?" the blonde offers, despite the fact its more of a demand as you're being dragged along once again.

only this time your refusal is much clearer, practically begging the girl to let you go before she managed to get you out into the yard. again sarah is misreading the situation, interpreting your panic as awkward butterflies.

your demands persist, though much quieter as you're dragged further down the dock, closer to john b and his friends.

"hello, ladies" john b's blonde friend greets with a low whistle and a cheeky grin, shamelessly checking both you and sarah out.

for a moment your anxiety vanishes, your entire nervous system sparking still but for different reasons. this might be the most beautiful boy you've ever set eyes on.

this. this was your type.

"you're new" he speaks, gesturing towards you "that's for sure, yet to be a time i've forgotten a face like that." with a wink, he takes your hand to place a kiss on the back of it.

you curse god. why couldn't you have met this guy somewhere else? why wasn't he the blonde stranger that took you home?

"you done macking on the kook?" a girls voice echos from behind him, her words and her expression dripping with disgust as she eyed you.

"i'm not a kook." you bite back, sightly too aggressive for a first impression but you couldn't help it with the look of clear disdain embedded on her face.

sarahs arm links through yours, a mumbled "easy, newbie" falling only on your ears "y/n is new in town, i brought her down here while i found out what you guys are doing on my dads boat." despite her civility there's a challenging edge in her voice.

"lest ye forget, i work here."

john b, suddenly emerging from the ships hull and hurling a snide smile in sarahs direction. you had only ever seen him on fuzzy news broadcasts, he was taller than you had anticipated, confrontational too.

though, genetics could explain that one.

"can we help you?" the girl speaks again, sending your eyes rolling as you face john b.

"can you tell your guard dog to stand down? last i checked one of us was invited here and funnily enough it wasn't her"

you hear another boy mumble an excited "cat fight!" to your new, blonde, hyperfixation as they exchange money on bets.

"seriously? i expect this shit from jj but pope? disappointing" john b tutted, sounding like a disappointed father as he got off the boat "not looking for trouble, just bringing back the diving shit, full."

menial conversation is exchanged between sarah and john b, though your attention mainly resides with the newly named jj. he was leaning back against the boat, rolling a joint without a care in the world.

you try to keep the glances to a minimum, after all you had much bigger problems to wade through right now, but you simply couldn't look away. he was the definition of magnetic.

even when he catches you looking, there isn't a morsel of awkwardness, just a knowing look of curiosity that lingered far longer than it should have.

then, he winks. he fucking winks before returning to rolling with that stupid, insanely hot grin on his face. you were far from shy, and only for the audience around you, you would've jumped on him long ago.

any reckless ideas potentially coming to fruition is spoiled when sarah, still linked with you, retreats back toward tanneyhill. with a final glance back at jj, you hold your thumb and pinky to your ear and mouth 'call me', earning yourself a wink and a crossed heart in return.

maybe this wouldn't pan out to be a total shit show after all.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Jealousy ~ Love That Burns

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST / EVERYDAY MOMENTS MASTERLIST

Word Count: 1,300ish

Summary: You and Logan have your jealous moments.

Notes: This fic goes with my series, Love That Burns! Please give it a read!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! 

There was no absolute reason you should have laughed like that in the grocery store, especially when Logan wasn’t making you laugh. He had left you alone for a brief moment, only to get the items you asked of him. When Logan returned to you, you were laughing with another guy. His jaw clenched as his hands threatened to shred the items in his hands. The claws almost came out as soon as your hand playfully hit the man's arm.

You bent down to pick up the large case of water, only for the man to place his hands on you. The man moved you away from the case and bent down to get the case himself, putting it on your cart. Logan took large strides to get to you, reaching your side once the man had already walked off.

When you caught sight of Logan, you smiled and took the items from him. “Thanks, honey,” you said.

“Who was that?” Logan growled, glaring at where the man had disappeared.

“Oh, I don't know. I accidentally ran into him, and he helped me get the waters.”

“How kind.”

Logan’s tone let you know that he had seen the interaction and was not okay with it. This gave you the perfect opportunity to see how jealous he could be. When would he break, and exactly how?

“It’s no big deal,” you shrugged, continuing your trek down the aisle.

Logan walked behind you, practically having his chest against your back. As you continued to gather the items on your list, you started to have a little fun with it. First, you stopped in front of the cereals and began to pull one box at a time and study what was in it.

“Just grab our normal,” Logan stated after you checked out the fourth box. His brows pinched together when you ignored him. “Babe?”

You continued ignoring him, finally grabbing two boxes of cereal and placing them in the cart. This happened a few more times, allowing you to sense Logan’s growing frustration. Then, you went to the deli section and began to flirt with the workers as you asked for what you needed. Logan’s claws poked out as he clenched his fists. You said a too-sweet thank you to the workers before heading towards your next destination.

Logan glared at the workers, barely missing which aisle you went down. You noticed that he wasn't following you, so you quickly grabbed what you needed and disappeared to another aisle. Logan grew increasingly frustrated as you continued disappearing before he could reach you. When Logan finally found you, you were at the checkout, flirting with the worker. 

As soon as Logan appeared at your side, it was time to pay. You motioned your head towards him.

“He’s got this,” you told the worker and then left with the cart of groceries.

“Okay,” the worker said, confused about what was going on. “Sir, that will be—“

“Here,” Logan slammed down more cash than necessary. “Keep it.”

Then he stomped out to the truck, where you had already loaded the groceries and were waiting in the passenger seat like you were completely innocent. Logan got into the car and sped off, gripping the steering wheel so tight you were worried it was going to break. But you continued to avoid him, focused on a book you had left in the car.

As soon as the truck had pulled up at home, Logan threw it into park and was at your door before you could get out. He threw it open and grabbed you, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Logan!” You squealed. He began to walk to the house. “The groceries!”

“They can wait,” he muttered. He carried you into the house and threw you on the bed. He knelt above you, pinning your hands in place. “Am I not enough?”

“What?”

“You. Today. The flirting. The ignoring.”

“Logan,” you laughed. “It was a joke! And it clearly worked.”

“You played with me today, darlin’?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, biting your lip.

“You’re gonna regret that. I’m gonna spend the rest of the day reminding you of who you belong to.”

~~~

This was one of those moments that you hated that Logan couldn't wear a wedding band. Stupid claws. You had just pulled up to pick up Logan from work to see the new lumberyard secretary leaning against the tree next to where Logan was working. It was clear that Logan was ignoring her, but she was persistent. You got out of the truck, slamming the door to see if it would do anything. Neither of them turned to look at you. Your hands were growing hot, flames threatening to explode from you.

“Hey! It’s the wife!” One of the men, Todd, exclaimed. He and a few others headed towards you.

“Hi, boys,” you briefly glanced their way before focusing on the scene in front of you.

“Hey, Y/N. Picking up Logan today?"

“Yep.”

“I see that Lucy has found Logan.”

“Lucy, huh?”

“She’s been flirting it up with all of us. Besides, don't get too worried; Logan only has eyes for you.”

“Thanks, Todd. See you boys around.” 

You waved before heading over to where Lucy and Logan were. You watched as Lucy moved closer to Logan, brushing her hands against his arm. Clenching your jaw harder, you were trying not to burn the place down.

Logan smirked as he continued working. He had smelt you the moment you got out of the truck, but now it was clear as day. He knew that Lucy being this close would drive you crazy, so he wasn't working too hard to change the situation. He set his ax down and shrugged off his flannel, leaving him in one of his famous white tank tops. Logan saw Lucy bite her lip and shamelessly check him out. 

“Hey, honey," you said, coming up to him.

Logan had to bite back a laugh; you were laying it on thick. “Hey, sweetheart,” he replied.

You came over to his side and put your arms around him, ensuring your ring was evident. “Who is this?”

“I’m Lucy,” she introduced herself.

“I’m Y/N, Logan’s wife.”

“Oh, it's nice to meet you. Logan is one of our best workers.”

“I’m sure.”

“Surprised I haven't heard him talk about you. Are you two recently married?”

You were going to kill this woman. Logan could feel the heat threatening to burn through his shirt.

“A few years now,” you replied through gritted teeth.

“That’s nice,” she said. “I hope it all works out.”

Before you could stop it, the pile of logs next to Lucy had caught on fire. Logan quickly pushed you away from it as the other men rushed over to put the fire out and get Lucy. 

“Put it out, baby,” Logan muttered, trying not to laugh.

With a deep breath, the fire died.

“Everyone all right?” Todd asked, looking around.

“NO!” Lucy shrieked. She was holding the ends of her long hair that the flames had singed. “My hair is ruined!”

A satisfied smirk overtook your lips. “That’s too bad," you said. “I know that there’s a few good hairdressers in town. Let me know if you need their numbers.”

Lucy scoffed before storming off. Logan finally let out a chuckle, pulling you closer to his side.

"Alright, boys, I’ll see you next week,” Logan said. The men said goodbye as Logan led you back to the truck. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Fine," you huffed, sitting in the passenger seat with your arms folded over your chest. “Just didn’t like the way that she was near you…”

Logan chuckled, pulling you across the bench seat to sit closer. “You don't have anything to worry about anything, darling." He kissed your cheek. “I’m all yours.”

[dollbon]

Imagine 🪽

First "I love you"

You were in your room listening to music from one of your favorite bands while watching a series on your computer. It was late at night, but you just wanted to relax a little. The rain outside was still falling, making the environment even more comfortable for you.

That's when you heard three knocks on your bedroom window. You quickly got up and grabbed your pocketknife from the dresser next to your bed. Walking slowly to the window, you slowly pulled back the curtain and then the blinds. Then you saw JJ.

"But what are you doing here?"

You said, opening the window and looking at JJ, who was soaking wet.

"Can I come in?"

He asked and you quickly grabbed a towel for him to dry himself.

JJ went into his room and closed the window. He quickly wrapped himself in the towel and dried himself, not wanting to make a mess in your room.

You approached him with another towel to help dry his hair. It was then that you noticed the bruises and injuries on JJ's face and body.

"JJ, what-"

You tried to ask what had happened, but he interrupted you gently.

"Your aunt doesn't mind if I spend the night here, does she? Please?"

JJ looked at you with that vulnerable and nervous look you rarely saw.

"You know you can JJ."

You said helping him dry his hair.

You looked at JJ as he sat on the chair in your room, his leg bouncing as he bit a nail. You sighed and then walked over to him and hugged him, JJ immediately hugging you back.

"I'm sorry Jayj."

You mumbled sadly and he just nodded.

"I'll get you some clothes to take a shower okay?"

You said again and he just nodded.

JJ grabbed the clothes and a new dry towel and then went to the bathroom, you went to the kitchen and grabbed one of the medical kits in the house before going back to your room and waiting for JJ sitting on the bed.

JJ soon came out wearing the clothes you gave him and threw himself back on your bed.

"So, are you my nurse now?"

JJ joked trying to relax a little weather.

"Don't get carried away, you idiot."

You laughed and patted your side of the bed.

"Sit down."

You said as you opened the medical kit and took out some bandages and ointments.

JJ rolled his eyes and sat down next to you, waiting while you finished getting your things.

"It's going to sting a little, okay?"

You said and then a wry smile appeared on JJ's face.

"I can handle it, babe."

JJ said puffing out his chest with his big ego, making you roll your eyes and laugh.

You calmly applied the ointment and laughed when you saw JJ holding himself back from cursing when he felt the slight burning sensation. Your eyes met his for a few seconds, and then JJ pulled you on top of him as he lay down on your bed, leaving you surprised for a few seconds.

JJ laughed softly at your reaction and ran his hands up and down your back.

"What's wrong? And that surprised look? Is it because of my beauty or my irresistible charm?"

JJ joked and received a slap on the shoulder from you.

"You're such an idiot, you know that?"

You rolled your eyes and continued applying the ointment.

"Yeah, I know, but I'm a complete idiot for you, and it's not like you don't like it."

JJ smiled as he looked at you.

"Stop staring at me."

You said and he just smiled more.

"No, I want to look at you."

JJ said still smiling at you.

"And why do you want to look at me, hm?"

You ask and then look into his eyes.

"I don't know, I just want to look at you."

JJ said just to tease you as he continued to caress your back.

You sighed and rolled your eyes and went back to taking care of JJ's wounds. Your eyebrows furrowed in concern as you looked at the purple bruises.

"I don't want him to hurt you anymore JJ..."

You said and he sighed lightly, tightening his arms around you a little.

You looked at each other again and then JJ smiled. He pulled you closer and then you hugged, JJ still rubbing your back.

"I think you'll have to do one of those preppy makeups on me tomorrow to hide these bruises on my face."

JJ said making you laugh, he didn't like tense atmospheres, so he always said something silly to get a smile or a laugh.

You sat down still smiling and started to put away the medical kit.

"I'm going to get some painkillers for the pain, okay? I'll be right back."

You got up and went to the kitchen again, JJ lay on his bed while looking at the walls of his room that were decorated with posters of bands that you liked, pictures of you with the pogues and your sisters and finally a picture of him. When you returned to the room JJ didn't miss the chance to tease you.

"I didn't know you were my fan."

He said, making you raise an eyebrow in confusion, then he pointed to his picture on your wall.

"Oh, that's it, those are my favorite memories, that's why the pictures."

You said, sitting down next to him and handing JJ a glass of water and the painkiller.

JJ sat down to take the painkiller and smiled as he looked at the funniest and funniest pictures of the group.

"Ah! Look here, my favorite!"

You said, picking up a picture where JJ was wearing one of your dresses. He quickly sat up and tried to grab the picture of you, but you got up and started running from him around the room, until JJ caught up with you and the two of you fell on the bed, with JJ on top of you. You stared at each other before starting to laugh. You sat back down on the bed and then you put the pictures back in place.

"I like you, you know?"

JJ said suddenly as he stared at you.

You were confused for a moment but then you said:

"I like you too, you're a great friend-"

"No, you don't understand, I really like you."

JJ interrupted you gently and approached, his hand touching yours.

"I've been keeping this to myself for a while, I really like you a lot, you make me feel things I've never felt before, you're so natural in everything you do, and man, when you smile at me and look at me like that, I feel on cloud nine."

JJ said still looking deep into your eyes.

"JJ, are you sure about what you're saying?"

You said as your eyebrows furrowed a little in hesitation.

"Hey, what's the problem? Don't you trust me?-"

JJ said but you interrupted him.

"It's not that JJ, it's just that I don't want to be disappointed. I trust you, but I want you to be sure about what you're saying."

You said hugging your knees and sighing.

"A relationship is no joke, I want you to be sure that it's what you really want with me." You said and then looked at him, JJ gave a small smile and got closer.

"I'm sure I want this for myself, for us. I know I can be an idiot sometimes and very immature, but I really want this. You're simply amazing, I like the way you get angry easily, I like the sound of your laugh, your smile, your orange hair that got that color because it wasn't bleached properly, I like how you get so excited when you talk about the things you like, how your eyes shine when you hear a song from the old bands you like, your style, just everything girl! I love just everything about you! I love you!" JJ finally said still looking at you. His eyes lit up and you felt your cheeks get red with the sincere words of how JJ felt about you. A smile appeared on your face and then you finally looked at him again.

"I... I love you too JJ-"

You tried to finish the sentence but JJ interrupted you with a kiss full of feelings that had been kept for some time.

You separated for a few moments to catch your breath, but soon JJ pulled you into his lap and kissed you again.

The next day...

Your aunt woke up early as usual, she took a look at your sisters' room and then went to yours.

As soon as she opened the door and took a quick peek into the half-dark room, which was being half-lit by the lamp on the dresser next to your bed, a smile appeared on her lips when she saw you and JJ sleeping peacefully.

JJ was clinging to you like a needy puppy, his face hidden between your neck and shoulders as your quiet breaths mingled.

Your aunt laughed and smiled before closing the door and letting you rest.

[celtigxr]

THE PINK DREAD - CH. 26 (Masterlist)

Chapter Summary: Aegon attempts to court Valeana properly this time. In his own, Aegon-y way. Word Count: 6018 CHAPTER WARNINGS: 18+ , MDNI. Horny!Aegon, Brief discussion of non-con things. Alcohol.

Series tags: Aemond x Plus size!OfC, Aegon x Plus size!OfC, Celtigar!ofc, Plot with Smut, mdni 18+, Aemond End Game, Angst, Comedy, The Dragons Don't Dance, slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers.

Credits: Lace Banner by Aquazero, pearl divider by Pommecita

Notes: ya welcome👋

When Aegon awoke that morning, his mind was just as muddled and fuzzy as everyone else’s in the Keep, though his was much louder with chatter from last night. His voice, his mother’s, Valeana’s, and Catelyn Redwyne’s.

During their dance, he had an interesting conversation with her; she was young, four years his junior, and yet wiser. Cat read him like a book in the time it took them to do the ceremonial dance at the beginning of the ball, but instead of chastising him (which his mother did later that eve, and again that morning), she instead gifted him some of her feminine insight. 

“Is this faux courtship a ploy to help her win back Aemond, or help you win her?” She had said with eyebrow raised and mouth pulled in a knowing smirk. 

Aegon stared at her, completely stunned at how easily she pulled out her conclusion. He stuttered, trying to say otherwise, but then Cat begged him to stop with a cute little laugh before continuing. 

“It’s just like the book, The Knight and I. Lady Deana Bettley and Ser Tymond Hawthorne get into a fake relationship to help each other. Deana had been scandalized, and no suitor wanted her, but with Tymond courting her, suitors started to desire her out of jealousy. And Ser Tymond does not wish to marry, wanting to live the life of a rake for the end of his days, so he uses Deana –a maid from a higher house– to cease his father’s badgering. But! They eventually fall in love with each other, because of all the time they spent together in order to keep up with their charade. Unfortunately, by the time Tymond even realized he loved her, she had gained the attention of the Lord of the Vale, and was set to be betrothed. It was all very romantic.”

After she had just gushed about the plot of her book – which to Aegon sounded like a right bore – he just blinked at her. Catelyn blushed heavily, and looked down embarrassed. 

“I really like reading,” she said in a small voice, her eyes flickering around the ballroom coyly. 

“I can see that,” Aegon offered her a small laugh to ease her shyness. He wet his lips, eyes glancing over at Valeana and Jacaerys, who appeared to be having a discussion of their own. With a swallow, he asked, “What…What did Lord Tymond do… to win her back?”

Cat looked back up at him through her lashes and a small smile crept on her plush pink lips.

Emboldened by Catelyn Redwyne’s advice, Aegon ignored his mother’s lecture about conduct, her plea for him to stop pursuing Valeana, and her warning if he failed to do so. There was nothing she could do to him that she hadn’t done already; slapped him, insulted him, rolled her eyes in his direction, reminding him at every turn that he was a disappointment. What was she going to do now? Tell him that he isn’t fit to be king, and find a worthy one in Aemond instead? That would be doing him a grand favour indeed. At least then she could pawn Helaena off to him, and Aegon would be free to take Valeana as his bride. 

What a double-edged sword that would be for Aemond. Getting half of his desires, while Aegon frolicked with everything he desired: freedom and Valeana, heavy with his child. 

His cock swelled at the mere thought of it. Tits large and weeping with milk, stomach rounded with evidence of his claim to her body, cunt tightly wrapped around his cock as she bounced on his hips. Aegon had to call in Hildy to aid his intense desires last night after the ball, leaving the pale-haired maid in a sweaty mess on his bed, her three holes thoroughly wet and spent. 

Aegon never lusted for a single woman so intensely, it almost frightened him. Though what was more frightening was the prospect of her not being his, which is what drove him to orchestrate his first, official move to woo her. 

“Aegon, how the hell did you get in here? Hardy at the front,” Valeana whispered harshly to him, arms tightly wrapped around her chest, that maroon robe snuggly wrapped around her. 

They carefully walked out of her shared bedroom with Shyla, closing the door silently, leaving them alone in the girls’ solar. 

“The secret passage of course,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. At her look of confusion, he elaborated, “There’s one in Floris’ room.” 

“How do you even know–” She cut herself as her memory caught up with her. “That is how you put those toads in her bed without being caught.”

Aegon giggled softly, “That’s what she gets for tattling. C’mon, let’s get out of here.” 

They moved quietly into Floris’ room as if they were approaching a den of lions. The Grafton girl was sprawled out like a starfish in her bed, occupying as much space as possible in her large mattress– twice as large as Valeana and Shyla’s. It seemed like a waste, in Aegon’s opinion. He and Val could have occupied that bed until the sun rose, and her family would be none the wiser for it. 

The gateway to the secret entrance was behind a squat bookshelf that housed more baubles and shoes than actual books. It was already ajar, Aegon didn’t want to waste time trying to find the latch to re-open it. There was a low dim of light from the torch that he left inside, a little down the way so the light wouldn’t wake up the beast in the bed. Motioning her to follow, they crawled into the portal, and with a gentle tug of the latch, the inconspicuous shelf-door closed behind them. 

Taking her hand, he guided her through the twisting passageway, ensuring that she didn’t trip over the narrow stairways that spiraled down. They then entered a cavernous corridor with arched ceilings that looked like a never ending tunnel to nowhere. With her hand still in his, and the torch in his other, Aegon led her not far from that point, until he got to another inconspicuous secret passage in the form of a slab of stone. 

“Hold this,” he handed the torch to her, and went over to put his entire weight into rolling the stone away. A gust of tepid summer night air wafted into the musky passageway, blowing at Valeana’s silvery strands that framed her face. The rest of her hair was in a very long loose braid, laying upon her shoulder before ending in a knot at her waist. The idea of wrapping it around his wrist and yanking her head back as he took her from behind was not lost on him. 

Beyond the stone slab was a balcony carved from the cliffside itself. It was large, overlooking the crags and the crash of waves of the Blackwater Bay below. There were some statues in the four corners, broken, littered with moss and barnacles. The balcony, if Valeana would call it that, was particularly low along the side of Aegon’s Hill, so it was safe to assume that during winter and autumn, and during the storms throughout spring, the waves of the sea would become so high it would fold over the stone fence that framed the terrace, soaking the area in ocean debris. That night was not one of those nights. The water was calm, though still dangerous as it pushed against the side of the mountain, foam splashing here and there as it attempted to reach the ledge. 

“Aegon…” Valeana stepped out in the open, head pivoting in every which way, seeing nothing but a moonless blanket of black and navy, dotted by stars and creased by waves. No city lamplights, no life, beyond the two of them. There were two braziers that were already lit; the light it offered at such a grand space was dim but enough to see without strain. When she turned around to face the cliffside, she saw what Aegon had left for her. A plush duvet, anchored by a dozen fat, plush pillows. There was a silver cloche sitting in the middle, flanked by amber goblets and two filled carafes of what was likely wine. There were candles there too, some still lit while others had been blown away by the ocean breeze.  

When she turned to him, eyes looking like two emerald stars, Aegon suddenly felt like a child wrecked with nerves. “... What is this?” 

The possibility of rejection lingered in the recesses of his mind, a foreign concept to him since Aegon wasn’t used to rejection. He would simply ask for a girl and she would be granted to him without complaint. A privilege of the title ‘prince’ that he had come to take for granted. Valeana could reject him, and be within her right, and he could ignore it and force himself upon her, and it would be within his right as prince of the realm, as he was entitled to everything and everyone he desired. 

But then she would hate him for an eternity, and curse his bloodline and soul, and Aegon would be left a shell of a man, with nothing but his regrets, all for one night of carnal release. No, forcing himself on her was never an option. He also wasn’t the type of man who wished to see a woman in pain beneath him. Nothing was more of a turn on than enticing world-shattering pleasures on a body with his own hands, mouth, and cock. It was the closest thing to power he had, and he wanted nothing more than to show that to her, if she’d have him. 

He didn’t answer her question, just simply smiled and gestured towards the little nest he had made for them, “Sit. I have cheese, bread, grapes, and salted meats.” 

She eyed him curiously, a tad suspiciously, but still trusted him nonetheless. Aegon watched her descend into the blanket and pillows with gleeful satisfaction. He quickly deposited the torch into the nearest brazier, then practically skipped over to join her. 

Valeana watched him for a beat as he gingerly lighted the doused candles using one that was still lit. “Are you going to tell me what all of this is?” 

“Well,” he began, lighting the last candle. “This platform was where the Old King and his Queen would land their dragons after taking them to flight around the Crownlands. It was a quicker and more surreptitious way for them to get into the Keep without stopping at the Pit and taking a horse or carriage back.” 

Aegon took the domed lid off of their late night meal and smiled up at her, “It’s said that Jaehaerys and Alysanne conceived Saera Targaryen on this very terrace.”

Valeana tilted her head at him, her suspicious gaze turned more like curiosity, “And why is it that you brought me here in the dead of night, Aegon?”

He was pouring the goblets now, “Well, I am… trying to court you.” 

Her mouth popped open, but words escaped her. When Aegon handed her the first goblet, she tentatively took it. 

“I know, I know…” He trails off, already reading her thoughts. Aegon stared into his goblet as he swirls around the red liquid, mixing the tannins around until they dissipated. “We have an arrangement. This was supposed to be a ruse, but… but, hells, this is difficult to say.”

“Aegon,” Val inhaled deeply, her shoulders sagged a bit, the load of an unsaid burden weighing her visibly. “I must speak to you abou–”

“Valeana,” he interrupted her, his smile pained, almost quivering as he tried to bite back his nerves. “Please. I wish to speak this before the words are lost on me.” 

She folded her lips under her teeth and nodded. 

Aegon took a generous sip from his goblet before putting it back down, “I remember what I said to you at the Ball last night. At least, most of it. I wish I had said it a little more… gently and less crass, but I do not regret it. It was the truth… and, hells, Valeana, what I’m trying to say is that I’ve grown fond of you. Quite fond. And I do not wish for us to be a charade anymore.”

His words tumbled through his wine stained lips, eyes looking everywhere other than hers own; her hands, the folds of her robes, the peak of her prosthetic that could be seen through the thin muslin material of her chemise. But his purple eyes found her green ones in the end, and the fear of rejection spiked. Aegon could read her hesitancy as plainly as the stars in the sky. Her eyes danced between his, searching for something in them. Glancing down, the prince took her free hand in his and ran his thumb over her knuckles. 

“If you do not want me, I will leave you alone–”

“Aegon,” her lids shut before the sting of her eyes became too much. “I would be lying if I said I haven’t grown fond of you either.”

Like the waves of the ocean, relief washed over him, but like the crags and spires of stone that protruded around Aegon’s Hill like a natural jagged crown, it crashed with more worry. There was a ‘but’ coming, the way her words hung there, at the edge of a cliff. 

“Aemond and I reconciled that same night. He–” she shook her head and cleared her throat. “I will spare you the details, but it was enough for me to let him back into my life. Not entirely, but… I am giving him a chance to redeem himself.”

His heart was beating frantically in his ribcage, telling him “you lost” over and over again. 

She squeezed his hand then, but the gesture felt condescending, and he considered ripping it away from her. But then Valeana pulled it to her lips and kissed his fingers tenderly, and he was back to putty in her hands. 

“I have not made a decision… My heart is hopelessly torn.”

Aegon felt that awash of relief again, this time the tides brought hope that filled his lungs, making it easier for him to breathe. “Don’t make a decision yet,” he watched her mouth as he moved his fingers so he was now holding onto her chin, thumb framing the lines of her lips. “I want my own chance, a fair shot. Please, Valeana, you said you would make it up to me all those days ago…This is all I want from you. A chance to win your hand.” 

He knew the answer before she said it, by the way she tilted her chin into the palm of his hand. There was still a sorrowful look in her eyes, and perhaps he didn’t entirely understand it, but he sympathized that she was truly of two different minds, trapped between an old love and the possibility of a new one. And… whatever the hells was going on with Jace. 

“Alright, Egg… Don’t let me regret it.”

Aegon grinned, “I’ll try not to, Crab Cake.”

Goblets clinked together and they were drained along with bits of bread, cheese, and meat. With the tense introduction of his motives gone, the evening was eased into a comfortable conversation about funny moments of their shared childhood, to more recent moments they shared together. The first carafe of wine was drained; a Reach vintage, provided by his co-conspirator and his sole supporter, Catelyn Redwyne. 

They now laid on their backs, faces flushed and minds a bit light and heavy at the same time. Valeana was popping grapes in her mouth, and Aegon was trying to make out constellations, but his vision couldn’t quite focus on them. 

“I wish I was a fly on that wall,” Aegon chuckled, the creases of his grin reaching his eyes.

“No, you were a wasp in my skirt that was causing me an immense amount of stress,” The humour in her tone told him that there were no hard feelings over the whole closet fiasco. Which felt like it happened ages ago; it was a bizarre feeling realizing that it led them to where they are now. “Why did you have to bite me?”

Aegon laughed loudly, his eyes trained to the sky, not at all aware that she had rolled her head to look at him. 

“I could not help myself, you looked delicious under there. I was a famished orphan, presented with a slice of warm cherry pie. I needed a nibble,” he shook his head, and then turned it just when she turned away from him, hands over her face. 

“Oh gods,” she laughed despite herself. 

From this angle, he had the perfect view of her chest. Her robes had loosened, creatina a wide V gap at her bosom, exposing her chemise underneath. In the firelight, he could make out the shape of her mounds through the light white fabric, including the small shadow of a beaded nipple underneath. The weight of her breasts sagged against her ribcage, falling just a bit to the side that when her arms folded, they pressed together, and he could see the depth of her cleavage. 

He bit his bottom lip, starting to feel the stir in his loins. His hand twitched and flexed, desperately trying to withhold back its nature to drive into his breeches. Seven Hells, why does she make him so hard? It isn’t the first time he’s seen breasts; he’s seen all sizes, shapes, some aged, some lopsided, some he nursed on like a newborn babe. Aegon was a young man who lived three lifetimes of depravity, and yet he is now reduced to a simpering boy on the cusp of manhood, desperate to see a tit. 

Then Valeana had to open her mouth and ask a question that did not help his present situation. 

“Do… Do you really have to… pleasure yourself after every interaction you have with me?”

His mind went blank, “What?”

“At the ball… you told me while we were dancing,” she cleared her throat as her voice lowered, as if quoting him verbatim would summon the ghost of Septa Jeyne. “That after every interaction we share, you have to find a corner to… fuck your hand.” 

“Ah,” Whipping his head back to the sky, he adjusted his legs by bending and crossing them in an attempt to shield his problem. Clearing his throat, Aegon nods his head, whether she sees him or not. She did, now that her head was rolled back to the side, looking at him, looking at the peaked fabric he was failing to conceal. “Yes, as embarrassing as it is to admit it. Even talking with you gets him all needy, and wanting for attention.”

If he were looking at her, he would’ve seen how her chest swelled and lowered with the laboured breathing of a woman overpowered by her wanton curiosity. A virgin who’s desire was like a new, unused candle, and she was willing to let him strike the flint to light it. 

“Like right now?” 

Her question took him off guard in more ways than one. Her tentative boldness that likely was spurred by the help of Catelyn’s strong wine (gods bless her), and Aegon’s shock of embarrassment from being caught. It was quite uncharacteristic of him; the flirt that he was, would have immediately taken the bait. Instead, the fool sat up and pulled a pillow over his crotch in shame. 

“You noticed, have you?” He gave a nervous laugh. There was a beat of silence where his mind yelled and berated him for allowing his prick to ruin the moment. This would surely not go well in his favour. Now Valeana would think him simply as a dog, with nothing on his mind other than to get his dick wet–

“Can…Can I help?” 

Aegon could have cummed right then and there. 

His head whipped in her direction; she was sitting up as well, her left leg bent up, enough for him to see the prosthetic, enough for him to see the outline of her thigh through her shift and the dark harnesses around it. Valeana’s gaze had a misty look about them, and Aegon realized it was because her pupils were dilated as they flickered from his face and down to his growing need for her. 

He decided to chuckle nervously again, wondering if she was joking, almost praying that she was. “Mayhaps we should call it a night. You are forgetting yourself, Crab Cake.”

“I’m not,” was her immediate reply. “I’m… I’m curious. And I want to see… I want to try.”

“Are you serious with me?” His eyes searched hers, trying to find any indication of a prank, one that he likely deserved after all those years of torment he bestowed upon her. But there wasn’t any. He saw curiosity, as she said, and he saw something else entirely. 

Hunger. She had hungry eyes. 

“If you do not need my help, Aegon, I can leave for five minutes–” she made a move to leave, but he caught her sleeve. 

“Oh, I need your help,” he allowed himself to grin, his tongue running over his bottom lip like a salivating dog. “Desperately.” 

Even in the night, dim with the orange glow of the braziers and contrasted by a deep blue hue of the ocean, Aegon could make out the pink blooms staining her cheeks. Like a shy little doe, he coaxed her with his hand to come closer, and she crawled to his side. 

Aegon laid against the stone wall behind them, a cushion at the small of his back and his goblet long forgotten. Valeana sat on her knees, her hands balancing her sides as she eyed his clothed erection, and he watched her closely, waiting for any indication of doubt. 

“You can back out anytime you want to, darling,” he whispered, his fingers moving down to the laces of his breeches, his legs spreading a bit out of instinct. “It will be painful for me, but I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” 

Val looked up at him with a curious expression, “Painful?”

He smiled and hummed, “It can be when I do not get release, but… You needn’t worry about that.” His eyes dipped down to his crotch, where the laces had come loose. Aegon gave a soft groan when he was finally freed, heavy in his hand and already weeping. 

Valeana’s mouth popped open and her breathing had laboured. He kept his eyes on her intently, waiting for her to change her mind, but all she did was stare and adjust herself next to him. Her thighs pressed together, and her hands balled into fists atop them. 

Aegon gave himself three strokes with his left hand before gently grasping her wrist with his right, “Here let me help you.” 

She let him take her hand, but instead of bringing it straight to his middle, he brought it up to his lips and kissed her palm reassuringly. Val blinked at him shyly, her teeth kneading the flesh of her bottom lip, the same lip that curled at the ends in a sheepish smile. With her hand in his, Aegon brought it down to his throbbing cock and wrapped her fingers around its girth. They both gasped at the contact. 

He could feel the trembling of her hand beneath his, “Do you want to stop?”

Valeana shook her head immediately, “No, no, I just– I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

Aegon ran his tongue over his bottom lip and nodded, “It’s alright. I’ll help you, my darling. Here, start by stroking up and down– Ugh, that’s it… Not too tightly. Mmm, yes, yes…”

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, keeping his palm on hers to guide the slow, languid strokes. Aegon could start to feel her confidence after a minute, he was barely moving his wrist with her. Valeana found her rhythm, but that wasn’t enough for Aegon. 

“Spit on it,” he ordered with a rumble of his chest. Val’s response was a hum of confusion, her strokes halting for a moment. “Spit on it, Val. On the tip, it will help.” 

Valeana did not question it despite her tentativeness and coyness. She leaned over him, her nose less than a foot away from the reddened helmet of his cock. He could so easily just take his hand and push her head down, and her lips would be upon it. It took every muscle in his body to prevent him from doing so, especially when her lips pouted and a large droplet of saliva dropped down onto him. His dick twitched, and he groaned. 

He no longer needed to guide her hand. With him being decently lubricated, her strokes became faster, more confident. Aegon’s back arched when he gave a soft whimper, “Not so fast.” 

“Am I hurting you?” Her question was so soft and sweet. 

“No, no, I just– I don’t want to cum just yet,” he opened his eyes and looked at her through a hooded gaze. “Slower… Use your thumb on the tip– fuck, yes, like that. Fuuucking hells, Valeana, you’re a natural.” 

His praise emboldened her, excited her, enticed a rumbly moan from her chest that immediately caught his attention. Aegon has been around enough aroused women in his days to recognize one in physical need. He reached out and placed a hand on her thigh, his fingers curled around the fabric of her chemise, which was now fully exposed. At some point the belt of her robe had loosened, and it pooled behind her like a cape. 

Valeana startled under his touch, her strokes stopping when she looked at him, “Aegon…”

“Let me return the favour,” his plea was soft, his fingers were not when they started to tug at the fabric that shielded her vanity from him. “I’ll make you feel so good, I swear…” 

Aegon must have made a mistake, because she retracted from him, hands hugging her stomach, hiding herself from him. In his panic, his body went stiff as he sat up to immediately apologize. For what, he wasn’t sure, but now she looked incredibly insecure. Perhaps he tried to breach a boundary. 

“I’m sorry, Crab Cake, I didn’t mean– Please don’t stop, you felt so good…”

She nodded, giving him a faint smile, “I’m just not ready…for that, right now. But I don’t want to stop.” 

His smile was grateful, it was full of relief. Aegon planted a kiss on her shoulder, “I understand, darling. Hm…” he trailed off as he got an idea, birthed from the need to feel her as much as possible, in ways she would allow him. “Sit on my leg.”

Her brow furrowed, “Why?”

“Trust me,” impatiently he took her by the waist and pulled her onto him, prying her legs apart when her body moved over his. Now Valeana sat upon his thigh, the skirt of her chemise pooling around her legs as her bare cunt was on him. Well, almost bare. With his hands still on her hips, he could feel the outline of cotton shorts underneath. 

Valeana looked down at him, all wide eyed and innocent. He smiled at her like a fox to a rabbit, his fingers kneaded the supple flesh of her hips through the muslin. Then, Aegon took her hand and brought it to her own mouth. 

“Spit again,” his words were gentle, his eyes were dark. Valeana obeyed; her cheeks twitched as she gathered the saliva onto her pallet and deposited it into her palm. Aegon guided it back to his cock, which twitched in anticipation when her warm velvety touch enveloped it again. “Good girl,” he moaned through pouty lips. 

Val’s breath hitched in her throat at the praise. Her eagerness to please him was evident at her enthusiastic strokes, now pulling on his muscle from base to tip, using beads of his pre-ejaculate as more lubricant. Her thumb painted the head with it, moving along the crease, feeling every ridge and vein, drinking up every moan and groan that came from him. 

She hadn’t realized it, not until Aegon’s fingers dug into her hip, but she was grinding on his thigh. The thin seam of her cotton shorts was too loose to keep in place, and with every movement of her hips, the more it migrated off to the side. Her pearl was now flushed against the rough fabric of his breeches, making her core stir with heat, like a volcano about to erupt. 

“Mmm, does that feel good, my darling?” His nose hovered over her neck before he planted kisses. Her response was a meek “mhm” with her teeth digging into her bottom lip. “Good. Your hand feels fantastic, I can only imagine other parts of you…” 

After he said this, his hands pawed up her sides until they reached her shoulders. Aegon’s lips had never left her neck and sternum, peppering them with open mouthed kisses and licking her skin to savour every salty taste of her. His fingers curled around the neckline of her robe and chemise, yanking it down over her shoulders. 

“A-Aegon,” her plea might have been an attempt to stop him, but it was poorly communicated through a pleasured whine. Her hips did not stop, her hand did not cease, but her free one went to grab his elbow. 

“Please,” he whined into her clavicle. “Please. I am so close… I want to cum with your tits in my face.” Aegon’s hands pawed and gripped at her body in heady need. He was so desperate to strip her down naked, but he would settle for just her breasts. Always there on display, so close yet out of reach. Even pressed up against his clavicle, they were soft and inviting, he could see himself suffocating between them. A perfect way to die, next to having his nose buried in her cunt with her thighs crushing his skull. 

Aegon whimpered when she unlatched her grip on his cock, but her movements spoke to her motivations. He pulled away from her neck and watched her with baited breath and famished eyes as she snaked her arms out of the red robe, and then started to unlace the front of her gown. With slow, methodical movements, Valeana tucked her arms through her sleeves and pulled them out through the neck of the chemise, effectively pulling it over her ample chest and bunching it around her waist. 

“Maiden, Mother, and Crone,” Aegon groaned at the sight. Soft and pale, like white silk, her mounds glowed under the firelight. Her areolas were wide, light pink in colour, and her nipples were small pebbles nesting in the middle. There were splotches of yellow here and there, on her right areola, on her left breast, all evidence of his brother’s earlier expedition. The sight of it caused a rush of possessiveness in him, his lust for Valeana mixing with his desire to beat his brother. His lips and hands were upon her in an instant, desperate to erase traces of Aemond from her skin. 

“Ae-gon!” She gasped his name, and he moaned in return. 

Aegon gripped her hand and brought it back to his cock, wrapping her fingers around his girth and helped her resume her strokes, harder, and faster than before. His lips were bruising as he found one of her nipples and latched onto him. Taking both of his hands, he kneaded her breasts, pushing them together as Aegon’s tongue lapped up the plush flesh. 

His ministrations were not gentle, but not unwelcome, as evidenced from Valeana’s series of licentious whines and the vigor of her hips as they bucked against his thigh. Her hand worked him desperately, her fingers moving along the rim of his helmet, collecting pearls of seed to coat the sensitive flesh underneath. Her curious hand moved southward, finding the soft pouch of his stones, and testing the feel of it between her little fingers. 

“Ah-uh!” Aegon’s hipped buck forward, then he gave a soft laugh, “Oh, Valeana, you vivacious little creature.” He buried his nose in the valley of her breasts and gave a soft moan as she massaged his family jewels, which were tight and sensitive underneath the soft skin. 

He felt her cheek upon the top of his head. Her voice came to him, soft and coy, a sweet mask to hide her newly debauched mind, “Does that feel good?”

“Ohh, you have no fucking idea,” his chuckle came out like a growl. With a moan he captured a nipple in his mouth, biting it softly between his front teeth, and making her squeal. “Stroke me, love. I’m almost there…” 

Her hand found his cock again, the muscle flexing in her grip as she moved it from tip to base, collecting as many pearly tears as she could to make her strokes wet and seamless. Aegon began rutting into her hand, increasing the pace, which spurreed her to do the same with her hips. 

“Fffuck,” He growled into her chest. His hands roamed all over her body, gripping and pinching at every curve and roll he could find. His mouth found another nipple, sucking onto it with a long groan. Aegon’s arms pulled her snugly to his body, one splayed against her back, and the other one roaming over the curve of her arse, and gripping a cheek possessively. His fingers dug through the fat of her rear, grazing the puckered hole hidden beneath the prison of her clothes. 

“Y’so bloody gorgeous, Valeana. I wanna fuck you so fucking bad,” Aegon groaned into the meat of her breast. “‘M gonna… Fuck, I’m almost– Ahh!”

The built up was immense. His stones tightened and the base of his cock tingled at the sensation of his seed. Her fingers coiled tightly under the helmet, sending him over the ledge. A rush of pleasured release overtook him, shuddering his body as ropes of his spend shot out and coated her hand and leg. Valeana still stroked him through it, the good little girl that she was, but he was getting sensitive, and it became borderline torturous. 

Aegon’s hand shot out to grip her wrist to stop her, “Ooh, love…Y’can’t empty me any further.” His mind was blank with ecstasy and exhaustion, not being able to do anything other than lay his face between her breasts and try to breathe. 

When he at last lifted his heavy head, she was looking at the pearlescent seed all over fingers. Aegon wondered if this was the first time she has ever seen a man ejaculate – or a man, in general. The thought bolstered his ego, of course. Now he truly had something Aemond did not have. 

Not being able to contain his grin of victory, he nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck, and planted gratified kisses along the junction next to her shoulder. But she was quiet, a little too quiet for his liking, and the seeds of doubt started to take root.

Aegon lifted his head to look at her, his brow slightly knitted, “Do you regret it?”

Valeana turned to him, a small sheepish smile on her swollen lips. She’d likely been kneading them with her teeth the entire time, trying to stifle her moans as if anyone were able to hear them out there. 

“No,” she shook her head. “I actually… Liked it a lot.” 

A slow grin split his face. Her confession was enough to get him hard again, “Well, we can do it as many times as you like, Crab Cake. I’ll just have to let poor Hildy know that she can retire from my services.”

Valeana snorted adorably, then quickly covered her mouth, “Oh, gods, Aegon, my fingers will go nowhere near your bum.”

He mock pouted, “A pity. I have a nice bum, and you have such soft fingers.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN SNEAK PEAK Heat bloomed at her cheeks, “He was trying to flee my sister, and pulled me into a closet as his captive. He was a nuisance, that is all. And because I know this will fill you with joy, I beat him with a broomstick afterwards.”  Jace grins broadly, “You are right, that does fill me with joy.” He then clears his throat, “And your courtship with him… is that conjecture too, or…? Images of Aegon’s cock in her palm flashed in her mind.  “No,” she forced herself to say. “That… is true.”  He stared at her, face full of incredulity, “I was hoping that to be untrue. Valeana, why on earth would you be courting Aegon, of all people? He has not changed, at all.” “It is a long and complicated story,” she sighed, “One I am tired of explaining.”  Jace was unconvinced, though. No matter the reasons, whether they were rational or not, he was determined to convince her otherwise.  “You remember how Aemond was the only one amongst us that did not have a dragon?” Valeana stared at him for a beat, “...yes. And you lot teased him relentlessly for it.” “Aegon the most, if you recall,” Jace briefly glanced at her before returning his eyes to the path.

Notes: 6000 words dedicated to a hand job. That has to be the first, right? Don't worry, Aemond's gets his whole chapter too, and it's a chonky girl. Also shout out Bridgerton, XD The Knight and I was obvie supposed to be The Duke and I if y'all didn't catch that. Right, anyway, so my struggle is still going on, but I'm trying. Not liking how close the updates are getting to my current writing spot. But I'm hoping I can catch up soon. I'm trucking on, though, and I'm hoping I can get a chapter done before the end of this week. And if anyone missed it, if you're interested, check out my Fem!Aegon x Aemond one shot: Love Is With Your Brother.

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad, @desireangel, @t0biasparabatai

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[riotwritesthings]

An Agony We Deserve (Throwing Off Sparks)

WinterIron, M, 5.8k, WIP - reluctant soulmates, angst, drinking, mentions of past ships

There are legends. Soulmate bonds have started and ended wars, they used to reshape the world without any warning. People would change in an instant, abandon and betray everything, become completely unrecognizable, but those are just legends- It can’t be- But they are.

This chapter suuuure went a direction. I really hope you enjoy and don't want to burn me at the stake ahaha

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

~~~

Chapter 3: the ceiling starts to swerve

“This is Colonel Rhodes.”

Rhodey sounds exhausted, and stressed, and Tony knows that as usual it’s at least ninety percent his fault. There’s a cacophony of noise in the background, and Tony’s willing to bet that he’s having a hell of a day.

He wishes he didn’t have to make it worse.

“Hey SourPatch,” Tony forces himself to say in greeting, his throat suddenly dry.

“Holy shit,” Rhodey says in a rush of air, his voice dropping in volume halfway through. There’s a shuffling sound, and then all the background noise is cut off by the heavy thud of a door closing. “Tony, what the hell happened?” He demands in a strained, tense whisper, "you- are you okay?"

“I- I’m fine,” Tony lies.

He’d hoped that hearing Rhodey’s voice would feel comforting, familiar.

Instead he feels… nothing.

No, not nothing. He is relieved to talk to Rhodey again.

But it feels more like- Some small part of him is relieved to have a link to the world. Anything outside of this weird little- soulmate bubble they’ve accidentally set up for themselves, some reminder of what’s real. But even that slice of relief is-

Disconnected.

There’s no warmth to it, no rush of calm comfort that Rhodey’s voice usually gives him. He remembers their decades of friendship perfectly clearly, but- There’s no connection to the voice on the other end of the line, like he’s talking to someone else.

Like he’s talking to a stranger.

Tony’s breath catches wetly in his throat and his eyes burn.

Fuck this stupid bond.

It’s already apparently taken most of his self-control and personal space, replacing them both with- with a stranger. It took all of his plans and goals in Berlin, and probably any remaining scraps of trust his team had in him.

And now this inexplicable thing, some weird imbalance of chemicals or something, is taking his oldest, closest relationship.

Barnes- Bucky- is still staring out the front window, keeping an eye out for whatever and pretending not to listen.

Tony is painfully aware of the distance between them, of the tension winding Bucky’s shoulders up tight. Tony can feel it like a pull in his own chest and if the phone weren’t mounted to the wall he would go over there-

He viciously shoves that thought down, shoves down the ache in his sternum.

Rhodey is still talking on the other end of the line, repeating his name in an increasingly frantic tone, and it’s a struggle to focus on that.

It’s so much easier to focus on the mere feet separating him from Bucky, the way it felt to wake up next to him. Whatever it is that’s been twisting Bucky tighter and tighter since they woke up-

“Tony-”

“I’m here,” Tony says quickly. “I’m okay.”

Over by the window, Bucky’s shoulders twitch up a little higher.

“What happened in Berlin?” Rhodey asks, sounding impossibly more freaked out than he had before.

And that’s the big question, isn’t it? Laughter bubbles up in Tony’s chest before he can stop it, high-pitched and hysterical.

“I’m- It’s- I really can’t get into it right now,” Tony says weakly around slips of laughter that he can’t contain, and he can hear Rhodey’s worry spiking.

Reading his best friend even without seeing him is still as familiar as breathing, but Tony doesn’t *feel * anything.

Not like he can feel Bucky trying and failing not to shift on his feet, painfully curious and trying to fight it. Or maybe just trying to hide it, Tony can’t quite tell but he’s sure that if he got closer-

It’s making it really hard to focus on the conversation. And fuck, he wants to talk to Rhodey. He swears he does. But suddenly it’s not as easy as it’s always been.

“Are you-” Rhodey asks carefully, his voice low, “are you still with him? Are you being held captive?”

The ‘again’ goes unspoken and Tony fights down another hysterical giggle.

He is, but not in any of the ways Rhodey would be expecting. He’s being held captive by himself, by an inability to leave Bucky behind that is so deep-set the idea hasn’t even fully occurred to him.

“Yes, but no, he- he’s here, but it’s nothing like that,” Tony says, because that’s the easy answer. “This is not a Taken situation.”

“That’s not- never mind,” Rhodey says, and things must be really bad if he’s not taking the time to correct Tony on the finer points of action movies.

Fuck, why doesn’t he feel anything?

“So- What then?” Rhodey asks slowly, struggling to wrap his brain around the situation when Tony can’t tell him anything. "Did- I mean, you didn’t- did you kidnap Barnes?"

Tony laughs again and part of him wants to say yes. They kidnapped each other, and themselves, and now they’re holding themselves hostage.

But he knows Rhodey is in no mood for vague jokes.

“Why and how would I have done that?” Tony asks with a strangled chuckle. He remembers the way Barnes had been fighting before they ran into each other, all vicious, brutal efficiency. Even if he’d had his suit, Tony’s not sure he could have gotten The Winter Soldier out of there against the man’s will. At least not alive.

"I don’t know," Rhodey says in a huff, annoyance briefly winning out over his worry, “but Rogers is convinced that you absconded with his friend for some reason.”

“Why?” Tony sputters out while Bucky twitches again.

The other man is more tense than ever, wound so tightly that he’s about to snap. Tony can feel it in his teeth and he wants to dig his fingers into the muscles of Bucky’s shoulders, feel the warmth of him as the tension slowly fades-

"You tell me," Rhodey shoots back. "I’ve seen the security footage, Tones, and no one knows what to think. It looks a hell of a lot like the two of you just- left together."

“That is-” Tony says with a wince, “the extremely short version.” He can tell Rhodey is about to jump in with more questions, and Tony really wants to get to the reason he called. “So, what are people saying, exactly? Other than Steve.”

Rhodey lets out a long, heavy sigh, but tells him.

It’s about as bad as he expected.

There are people who think Tony was captured by the mysterious terrorist, and of course people who think he went rogue and recruited Bucky for his own nefarious purposes. About half of the team thinks it’s some kind of mind control, which would probably break Tony’s heart if he stopped to let himself think about it. But he just urges Rhodey to continue.

Ross has managed to convince a concerning number of people who matter that Tony is some kind of sleeper agent for Hydra, taking back possession of their soldier. Which is an insulting angle for the man to take, he can’t even imagine Tony as a high-ranking undercover genius?

And apparently, Steve thinks Tony kidnapped his best friend. Tony isn’t sure if he should be offended or not. Honestly, he can’t figure out what Steve thinks his reason would be.

“All in all, about half the world is hunting the two of you for one reason or another,” Rhodey finishes. He doesn’t waste a second before demanding, "Now are you going to tell me why?

“I’m sorry, Platypus,” Tony says, and he means it. He wishes he felt it. “I just- I couldn’t-”

Tony knows how he wants to finish that sentence.

‘I couldn’t let anyone take him, couldn’t not go with him, couldn’t fight it.’

But he can’t say any of that out loud, it’s still too raw and terrifying even in his own mind. The power that the bond has over him is still- It’s like a light that’s too bright to look at directly, he can’t face it fully yet.

And he definitely can’t put it into words or he’s pretty sure he’ll throw himself right back into a panic attack.

“I- There was- a thing, and we had to get out of there,” Tony finally says weakly. “And I- I can’t explain it any more than that right now.”

He can hear Rhodey’s displeasure with that answer, but Tony doesn’t feel as guilty as he should. He feels guilty that he doesn’t feel more guilty.

Tony’s chest clenches and he can feel Bucky fighting the urge to turn away from the window to look at him.

“I will, eventually,” Tony promises and hopes like hell it’s not another lie. “I just- I have to wrap my head around this first,” he adds, “and- hopefully my brain won’t fucking explode in the process.”

Rhodey blows out a hard sigh and then asks, “You’ve really gotten yourself into it this time, haven’t you, Tones?”

“You have no idea, SourPatch,” Tony says, fighting down another strangled laugh. He tears his gaze away from Bucky for probably the first time in the conversation so he can rub at his dry eyes. “First I have to- fuck, figure out how to fix this.”

“Well,” Rhodey starts slowly, "it would help a whole hell of a lot if you brought Barnes back-"

“No,” Tony cuts him off, surprising everyone with the vehemence in his voice.

When he drops his hand away from his face he catches Bucky’s eye for a moment, wide and so blue, before Bucky whips his head back around to the window.

“I can’t do that,” Tony continues, trying to keep his tone normal, “he- he’s innocent, Rhodey, he wasn’t even in Vienna.”

He doesn’t need Bucky nodding at the window to confirm it, somehow Tony knows. He’s felt it in the confused tension still wound tightly through Bucky’s chest. In the quiet, terrified exhaustion that started to set in as soon as they made it out of Germany.

Bucky doesn’t know why, or how, but he knows he’s being framed. So Tony knows it too. And he knows that true to Bucky’s word, he’s so used to not having control that he’s not even surprised to be used in this new and creative way.

Rhodey sighs. "Well then, bring him back and prove-"

“C’mon Platypus,” Tony cuts him off again, “you know it isn’t that easy. Someone already got to him while he was in ‘safe custody,’ and if that doesn’t happen again then he’s likely to get ‘disappeared,’ and I can’t-”

Tony’s voice comes to an abrupt stop as his chest clenches painfully, his throat pulling tight. The thought of someone trying to take Bucky away-

The force of the fury that rushes over him knocks the air out of his lungs. Through the pounding of blood in his ears all he can think is that he can’t let that happen, he can’t- he won’t.

No one is going to take his soulmate away from him, not at any cost.

Somewhere far, far beneath the weight of that knowledge, the rational sliver of his mind that remains is terrified to find out what price he’ll be willing to pay.

He doesn’t even want a- but he won’t be able to fight it any more than he’s been able to resist the bond until now, he already attacked Natasha without thought- What else would he do-

Bucky lets out a low, pained sound that Tony snaps out of his spiraling thoughts.

The fuzz and dancing spots fade from his vision as he drags in a shuddering breath, and he sees that Bucky is still politely staring out the window. He can tell that Bucky isn’t actually seeing anything though, too caught up in his own thoughts, in the tension pulling his shoulders painfully tight.

Tony forces himself to take another slow breath, and Bucky relaxes minutely.

"Hey, Tones, Tony-" Rhodey is saying in his ear and it filters slowly into Tony’s consciousness, so much less important than watching Bucky’s hand shake as he balls it into a fist.

“Yeah, yeah I’m still here,” Tony forces out, his voice rough.

He must sound really bad, because Rhodey takes pity on him and doesn’t ask any more questions.

“Look,” he says, almost as gently as he spoke when Tony first came back from Afghanistan, “I’ve been working to clear up all the most ridiculous lies. Are you safe right now, wherever you are?”

Tony only has to stare at Bucky’s back for a second before the man nods stiffly.

“As safe as I can be in a haunted shack,” Tony replies with a weak attempt at a smile, hoping that Rhodey can hear it over the line.

“Okay,” Rhodey says, “okay, here’s the plan.”

~~~

Tony is not a fan of the plan.

He doesn’t like that Rhodey is fighting Ross and his ridiculous lies for him. He doesn’t like that he’s just supposed to wait until Rhodey can make sure that they won’t be black-bagged the second they step foot back on the grid.

And he especially doesn’t like that he’s supposed to wait here, in the farmhouse from hell. With its outhouse and its single broken bed.

Despite the size of the mess, part of him had been looking forward to cleaning it up. Arguing with Steve and rich old senators is at least familiar, would make him feel like he still has some semblance of control over his life.

He was really fucking looking forward to feeling in control again.

Instead he’s still stuck out here, just him and Bucky.

It’s like they’ve left the rest of the world behind and Tony- He needs to get back to the real world. He can’t fight the bond but maybe he could- could ignore it a little more with other people around, with all the complicated problems that he can’t- He can barely remember right now.

The Accords, the Avengers, SI and everything, it’s all so far away. And if he doesn’t get back to it soon-

He’s not sure that he’ll want to.

With a frustrated sigh Tony finally stops glaring at the phone hanging on the wall.

Bucky is still standing at the front window, resolutely pretending to ignore Tony’s conversation. Despite everything, Tony feels a tiny smile tugging at his lips.

“Okay, excellent ignoring,” Tony says with a huff, “you can stop now.”

After a second of hestiation, his fists still clenched, Bucky turns to face him again and-

Blue.

Tony’s next inhale is so much easier, like his lungs are filling fully for the first time since Bucky stepped across the shack. It’s so damn nice, all the stress of the phone call melting away. The guilt and the distance of hiding from his best friend are inconsequential.

The real world is all mistakes and panic attacks. Why does he need-

Bucky’s gaze drops to the floor and Tony’s chest pulls tight again.

Something is still tearing Bucky apart, and he doesn’t know what.

It’s been getting worse and worse since they woke up, since whatever occurred to him and ruined their relatively peaceful morning. And Tony doesn’t know what it is.

He doesn’t think it’s just Bucky taking his turn with the panic attack. It’s related to being stuck here for an unknown amount of time, the tension spiked sharply when that part of the plan came up, but that’s not the whole story.

Whatever it is, it’s stabbing through Bucky’s lungs and turning his stomach, making it almost impossible to breathe. Tony can feel it like a phantom pain in his own chest, he can feel it crawling its way up Bucky’s throat.

The silence stretches as Bucky stares at the floor and Tony stares at him. Tony’s pulse is picking up as the tension builds.

It- it’s bad. It’s hanging over them like an anvil, like a guillotine, and Tony stops breathing as Bucky takes a shuddering inhale.

Bucky opens his mouth, and Tony tries to brace himself.

But all Bucky says is, “I was tryin’ not to listen.” His tone is sheepish but his voice is tight, nearly strangled.

Tony lets out a hard rush of air. Part of him wants to pry, most of him wants to pry, but-

He shouldn’t even know that something’s wrong with Bucky. They don’t actually know each other, they met yesterday.

Without the bond he wouldn’t be able to read Bucky at all, or at least not nearly this well. If he tries to pry- It’s like he’s giving into the bond. Accepting it.

And he can’t do that.

So Tony forces himself to let it go, to tear his eyes away from Bucky’s carefully blank face.

“If we’re stuck here, there better be food,” Tony says as he turns towards the small kitchen. “I am not above eating you for survival.”

After a couple of seconds Bucky silently shuffles after him, like he just can’t help himself.

There is food, and most of it is still safely packed in cans and sealed jars. Even if it doesn’t look very appetizing. There’s no coffee, though, which means that Tony’s headache is only going to get worse.

While Bucky hopefully determines if the water is safe, Tony slams through the cabinets a final time. He’s not pouting, but he’s also not actually expecting to find anything else.

Until he discovers the large jar of clear liquid hidden in the back of a high cabinet.

“'S that moonshine?” Bucky asks, suddenly standing just close enough that Tony can feel the rumble of his voice.

“Samanė, I believe,” Tony says, already unscrewing the lid, “which, basically the same thing.”

He’s trying to ignore the shiver running down his spine. And he’s trying even harder to ignore the urge to lean back into Bucky and chase the feeling.

It may not be the best idea at the moment, but Tony does need a distraction. And if he’s stuck here then he’ll take what he can get.

~~~

"This’s strong," Bucky says, squinting into his chipped glass.

Tony hums in agreement.

He’s not sure where his own glass is. He knows he had it when he dropped down onto the couch.

Before he can work up the effort to look for it Bucky is picking Tony’s glass up from the ground and offering it to him. Tony takes it with a grunt of thanks. Bucky quickly returns to staring into his own glass.

His next swig of the strong liquor doesn’t burn, just settles nicely in the warm pit of Tony’s stomach.

The tension is being forcibly melted out of his limbs. All the problems are being drowned out by the pleasant buzzing between his ears.

He considers the other man, because through the warm haze nothing else matters. And he can’t quite remember why that matters right now.

Bucky decided to sit in front of the couch when Tony sprawled out over the entire thing. He’s been shooting Tony increasingly un-subtle looks as they drink. With the way he’s leaning back, if Tony just moved his leg a little it would press against the strong, tense line of Bucky’s shoulders.

Tony takes another sip and forces himself to stay still.

Bucky glances over him again. The faintest hint of pink is spreading across his cheeks.

They’ve been carefully not talking since they started drinking. They don’t really need to.

But Tony still finds himself asking, “Is this- is it doin’ anythin’ for you?”

Bucky looks over at him and Tony tips his glass in explanation. Bucky’s lips twitch as he nods. He returns his gaze to his half-empty glass, then downs it.

"An’ it’s disinfectin’ my throat," Bucky says with a cough and a wince.

“Good,” Tony says as Bucky grabs for the jar again, "pretty sure you’re drinkin’ most of it. And if you’re just doin’ it to feel the burn I will- I’m gonna be mad."

Bucky snorts as he refills his glass.

“And Steve can- can’t even get drunk,” Tony adds.

The words slip out before he can think them through. The way that Bucky flinches minutely at the name isn’t really a surprise. Tony feels bad for bringing it up, he feels-

A lot of things.

He slid further down against the arm of the couch at some point and he’s mostly staring at the stained ceiling. His shin is pressed against the line of Bucky’s shoulders and he doesn’t remember doing that either. It takes effort to lift his head enough to keep Bucky in his field of view.

Now that he’s started Tony can’t seem to stop talking. The words are bubbling up in his throat and he can’t quite remember why he shouldn’t let them out.

So much for their unspoken ‘no speaking’ agreement.

"Still can’t believe he thinks I fuckin’- That I kidnapped you," he says with a snort.

Bucky’s metal thumb moves restlessly around his glass. It clicks against the chipped rim.

“No of-ffense,” Tony adds. He rolls his head along the arm of the couch to stare sideways at Bucky. “You just- you seem more the kidnapper- kidnappy type.”

He watches with fascination as emotions make their way across Bucky’s face. Wondering if he should be offended followed by reluctant amusement. Tony can feel all of it.

And he can feel the cold knot that wraps itself back around Bucky’s lungs as soon as the moment is gone. Tony still can’t put a name to the feeling and he’s getting pretty sick of all the things he can’t explain.

Like what’s bothering Bucky. And the fact that he has a soulmate. And why Steve would even think-

“Wait,” Tony says, failing his way upright. He spills a good half of his drink on his undershirt and takes a split second to wonder when he lost his dress shirt. “Wait,” he says again and has to blink a couple times as the room spins, “wait, did- tell me I didn’-”

He trails off, trying to tell through the haze of liquor if what he’s remembering is real. Bucky looks up at him again, and Tony’s breath catches.

Fuck, when is that going to stop happening? He already has enough trouble breathing.

Bucky is still staring at him and Tony struggles to remember what he’d been about to say.

“Was- Is there any truth to the rumors of- of war-torn lovers?” Tony asks, alarm creeping into his voice. "Did I steal Captain America’s boyfriend?"

The way Bucky’s eyes go wide and his shoulders hunch up around his ears says plenty, even as his mouth opens and closes wordlessly.

Tony groans as he flops heavily back down onto the couch. At least he doesn’t spill his drink this time. There’s a laugh building in his chest, edged with hysteria. It certainly explains a lot.

“I think he might- he might actually kill me,” Tony says to the shifting patterns on the ceiling.

They fall into silence while Tony tries to wrap his head around just how fucked up this is. He can hear Bucky finishing off another glass. His own drink is suddenly sitting a little too warm in his gut.

“It wasn’-” Bucky says slowly and Tony cranes his head around to look at him. “It wasn’ really like that. Or- We jus’- We never-”

“Never quite found the right time?” Tony guesses when he trails off. Because isn’t that how all the tragedies go?

Bucky nods into his empty glass, his expression twisted in misery.

The hot pit of something in Tony’s stomach is getting worse, starting to crawl its way up his throat. He’d almost think he’s about to be sick except-

He’s jealous. It’s jealousy burning its way through his chest, familiar but twisted.

Which is stupid for so many reasons, but the biggest one is that he doesn’t need to be. According to all the legends Bucky can’t- They’re stuck together now. Neither one of them can leave.

Tony has to remind himself that it’s because they don’t have a choice. It shouldn’t be comforting, to know that someone can’t leave him, can never even want to-

No, he wants Bucky- Someone, he wants someone to have a choice about staying with him.

He tells himself that’s what he wants. He wishes he believed it.

“I need more- more booze,” Tony says as he pushes himself upright, "way more booze for this fuckin'- conversation."

Bucky hands him the jar, turning towards him in the process. Tony squints at the amount of liquid remaining before taking a swig directly from the jar.

"You- What’d you mean, rumors?" Bucky asks. His eyebrows are pinched and it’s-

Definitely not adorable.

Tony hums and takes another sip, stalling.

“You, uh-” he says slowly, “the two of you- may have been a brief topic. In my- Um, in my queer history elective?”

Bucky blinks slowly. Then he lets out a long groan and drops his face to the couch cushion next to Tony’s thigh.

“Sorry,” Tony says with a wince and does his best not to laugh. “Is that- Is it better or worse than bein’ a ghost?”

“Worse,” Bucky mutters into the couch.

Tony decides not to tell him about the recovered sketches that were shown in that class.

When Bucky eventually lifts his head again it’s to steal the jar of Samanė back and take a long drink. His face is distinctly more flushed and loose strands of hair are clinging to his forehead.

The rest of the room is spinning, but Tony has no problem focusing on the tired blue of Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky looks away again, embarrassment and some new flavor of guilt twisting him up. There’s no sadness though, and Tony’s pretty sure that’s the reason for at least half of the guilt.

“You- Don’ feel bad,” Tony says and nudges his knee against Bucky’s shoulder. “Who- I mean who hasn’t had a big ol’ crush on Steve?” He adds sarcastically.

He slowly realizes he’d forgotten to add any sarcasm to his voice as Bucky raises an eyebrow at him. Tony could try to play it off, but he can feel his own cheeks warming. And Bucky will see right through him.

“There was a fan club at my boarding school,” Tony says defensively. He’s not sure if it helps his point or not.

Bucky snorts out a laugh halfway through taking another drink and winces. Tony doesn’t feel bad for him. But he can’t stop talking.

"And then I met Steve, which- He’s- I mean, I guess I don’t have to tell you-" Tony finds himself saying, despite swearing he’d never admit this to anyone.

It’s easier than he would have thought. The battle of New York and everything that followed feels so far away now. He remembers all the feelings, the hurt followed by longing and the sting of rejection when Steve- when no one stayed-

But it’s like it all happened to someone else. Like he read it in a story.

Bucky is still watching him, arm propped up on the couch. The flush of liquor doesn’t hide the complicated mix of emotions moving over his face as he waits.

"Not that anythin’ ever- y’know, happened," Tony finishes quickly and doesn’t bother wondering why he needs to assure Bucky of that. “He never- And I’m me, so-”

Tony sinks his teeth into his lower lip, cutting himself off. Bucky’s eyebrows furrow. He starts to open his mouth, and Tony cuts him off too.

“And then someone came back to life,” he says with the best glare he can work up at the moment, “an’ there- there went my chance. Or my delusional dream of a chance, anyways.”

Bucky winces apologetically and offers him the liquor. Tony laughs and takes it while he watches the other man clench his jaw. This time he knows exactly what Bucky is feeling.

“Super weird backward jealousy pangs, right?” He asks knowingly and tries not to be pleased about it. He fails.

A wry smile pulls at Bucky’s lips as he nods slightly. He drops his gaze to the couch and watches himself pick at the worn fabric.

“An’- An’ what about now?” Bucky asks without looking up. “Was- I-Is there-”

It takes Tony a second to figure out what he’s asking, and then he huffs.

“No, no worries,” he says, leaning forward slightly to pat Bucky’s metal elbow. “You’re not the- the homewrecker here, jus’ me.”

For a second he doesn’t even remember that that wouldn’t have been true, a couple of weeks ago.

The breakup with Pepper had been so fresh and raw even- fuck, just a day ago. When he’d been reluctantly admitting it to Steve and fighting down a twisted mess of emotions. Now it doesn’t hurt any worse than when his first crush had laughed in his face.

The soulmate bond makes one hell of a bandaid, and at least that’s something.

Bucky is still staring at him, like he can see Tony going over all of that in his mind. And he probably can. Tony’s hand is still resting on the other man’s metal arm, and he wonders if Bucky can feel it.

The silence stretches and Tony takes an uncomfortable swig of Samanė. He should probably move his hand, but he doesn’t.

“I am- 'M pretty good at chasing people off all- all on my own,” he can’t help adding, and Bucky’s eyebrows furrow again. “Don’ make that face at me,” Tony says and lifts his hand to poke Bucky between the eyebrows instead.

Bucky blinks and his face softens in surprise. Then he laughs, and Tony grins as his heart thumps in his chest. Bucky reaches up to grab Tony’s hand and pull it away from his face. Their fingers fit together without any effort and Bucky’s skin is surprisingly soft against his.

“Why d’you- you keep-” Bucky starts and then trails off, distracted. He runs his thumb over a burn scar on the side of Tony’s hand.

Tony’s breath catches and doesn’t restart as Bucky’s thumb moves down to his palm. He can feel the swirls of Bucky’s thumbprint against his skin. Every drag sends a bolt of warmth through him that the warmth of the liquor can’t compare to.

He inhales shakily when Bucky looks up at him, caught in those blue eyes.

What had they been talking about? He doesn’t remember now.

Bucky licks his lips and Tony stares. The way they’ve been drinking, they probably taste the same- And once the thought hits him Tony has to know-

He’s not sure which of them leans forward. Maybe him, because the room is spinning again. Bucky sighs and Tony can feel the rush of air against his cheek.

Tony shifts his fingers against Bucky’s wrist and realizes he can feel Bucky’s rapid pulse. He’s pretty sure his own heart is beating in time and he’s still moving closer.

It’s like he’s being pulled in, like he doesn’t have a choice.

Does he even need a choice? This feels- Why does he need anything else when this is so-

Right.

He can almost feel Bucky’s lips against his. Tony’s eyelids flutter as he struggles to keep them open.

He wants-

Beneath his fingers, Bucky’s pulse skips. It stops entirely for a terrifying second, then starts racing sickeningly. Something cold rushes through Bucky and he sucks in a sharp breath as he jerks away.

His hand slips away from Tony’s.

It’s just like this morning. The same icy chill running through Bucky as he pulls away. The same gut-twisting feeling that’s- It’s like guilt but so much more complicated.

It's different than when they were talking about Steve, or anything else. It’s-

Part of Tony doesn’t want to know.

Bucky won’t meet his eyes. He’s curling in on himself, withdrawing.

And Tony can’t let that happen. He can’t let this keep happening. He can’t-

He tightens his grip on the nearly empty jar and swallows thickly.

“Alright, out with it,” he says.

“What?” Bucky asks, practically flinching. He pulls his arm off the couch and curls it into his chest.

“Out with it,” Tony repeats, his voice shaking. “Whatever you need to tell me, just spill. It- It’s been driving you crazy all day and that- it’s driving me crazy.”

Bucky goes carefully still. He doesn’t look up. He’s not breathing.

Tony waits. He bites his lip again so he won’t start demanding answers.

There are already so many things right now that he doesn’t know, doesn’t understand. He needs to know.

What could be so bad?

This isn’t- Bucky isn’t supposed to be able to pull away. He can’t, that’s not how it- This isn’t fair.

Tony can’t completely swallow down a hurt noise. His eyes burn. It feels like his chest is cracking open, his lungs filling with ice- with snow-

Bucky’s gaze flicks up to him and then down again, expression pained. Blue eyes haunted.

Neither of them are breathing now.

He can’t stop thinking that none of this is fair.

Tony doesn’t- he didn’t even want a soulmate and now- The thought of Bucky pulling away is gutting him. It’s not fair that something as stupid as a secret is cracking his chest open.

It isn’t fair of him to need answers, either. Part of him knows that. They’d still be strangers, if they had a choice-

But they don’t.

“Bucky,” he says, his voice a harsh croak. A plea. He wants to reach out, but he doesn’t.

The other man flinches like he’d shouted. Tony waits.

Finally Bucky drags in a shuddering breath and tears his eyes away from his own hands. He practically snatches the jar from Tony and finishes off the Samanė in one long swallow.

Tony’s stomach churns as he continues to wait.

Bucky takes another steadying breath and fixes his gaze over Tony’s shoulder. His jaw clenches. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

The crater in Tony’s chest gets deeper.

“N-Nine- Nineteen Ninety One,” Bucky eventually manages to get out. His voice is raw and his eyes are glazed, unseeing. “December n-ninet-teenth.”

That’s all he says for a long moment and Tony is still waiting.

He doesn’t even recognize the date for a split second, and then he’s just confused.

“I-I was-” Bucky continues haltingly. The feeling of cold gets worse. “I- It wasn’ an accident.”

It doesn’t makes sense. Tony knows that date, but it was- His parents died in an accident. He knows that. He-

“What?” Tony asks flatly. Blankly. He doesn’t feel anything. He doesn’t- it doesn’t make sense.

Bucky swallows thickly. His cheeks are wet and all the color has faded from his face.

Tony wants to reach out, but he doesn’t.

He can’t move.

“December N-Nineteenth,” Bucky says again. His hands are clenched together so tightly that they both shake. “It wasn’ an- I-I was there, I- I’m th- I-”

Bucky’s voice cuts off, strangled. He clenches his jaw.

There’s a sick feeling rising in Tony’s throat, and he’s not sure which of them it belongs to.

“You- what’re you-” Tony starts to ask, gasping the words out.

But he doesn’t need to.

Bucky blinks rapidly and then meets Tony’s eye. He looks so-

It-

Everything hurts.

And Tony-

He knows.

[posts-written-by-murderbot]

I want to write a screenplay for the competition that's happening here. If you win they make it into a short movie. I think it's super cool. But mama says nobody is going to like my story here. She also says I'm too young but I'm not too young because I'm twelve. It is too young to make a submission but I can ask my older sibling to help. Te likes my idea.

This is my story: they are on an asteroid mining facility. The main character is a miner. Te is very cool and strong. And the other main character is a researcher. She is not so strong but she is very cool also. And one day they mine deep and find a cavern, and there's a monster there. So it steals the main character (the miner) and brings ter to its lair. The researcher is very sad because she thinks she's never gonna see her friend.

But then the third main character comes. They are a SecUnit, and they are super cool. They are two meters tall and can run really fast and jump and they have guns in their arms. So they go to the mine and kill the monster. There's blood everywhere, they tear it apart and then smash it into wall and it's super super cool. But then the wall cracks and rocks start falling on their heads and then SecUnit takes her in their hands and start running really really fast and they escape the mine just before it collapses. The researcher is very happy and she and te hug and kiss. (I think kissing is gross but adults always kiss in media so I think they have to kiss here.)

But then camera shifts to the cave (it's only half collapsed) and there's a woman there in a suit and it has a corporation logo on it..... The same corporation the main characters work for! It was a betrayal, she summoned the monster to kill everyone. And SecUnit can see that because they have fifty drones and can see everything. And so they tell the researcher and the miner and they all take a shuttle and leave. But then the shuttle has a bomb in it! But then SecUnit finds it but it blows up and blows off an arm off of them but the researcher creates a new arm and it's super cool and has five weapons in it! An energy weapon, two different projectal weapons, a sword they can make burn with blue flames and also a weapon that can shoot bombs! And so they all start travelling the universe and fighting evil corporates! And SecUnit goes undercover and pretends to be an augmented human and kills everyone who is bad and saves all the good people! The end.

Do you like my story? Do you think it's gonna win? Do you think I should get my sibling to submit it?? I really want to see it on the screen!! I think the SecUnit character would be super cool.

PS. Tata says you saved ter and ter friends' life like three times and were super cool and then te found out you were a SecUnit!! It is so much cooler than an augmented human!!! I wish I could have weapons in my arms if everyone hurts you you can just blast them to pieces!!! I was so excited when I saw this page you are very cool!

PSPS. They say your name is Eden but this page says you're just SecUnit? Which is weird, is it like your name or what you are? No offence! How do you think I should call my SecUnit?

PSPSPS. Aunt Tapan showed me World Hoppers and said you liked it and I watched it and it's my favorite show now! It's so cool!! And no I'm not ripping it off, my plot is completely different, even from episode 35, for one my story takes place on an asteroid and not a ship. And also everyone survives because the SecUnit is so cool! It was so sad how they just killed off that guy. Like yes he's not important but it's still sad!! I'm so glad they didn't kill off any of the main characters, that would be a bummer. Do you have any other fun shows I could watch??

I... like your story. I don't know if it'll win the competition though. If you want to submit it you should do that, but even if it doesn't win, that doesn't mean it wasn't good. So just keep making stories if you want. Other people's opinions are less important than you doing something that you think is interesting. If they don't like it, fuck 'em.

A few things:

Screenplay has a particular standard of formatting, traditionally. You have a comprehensible synopsis here but you might be interested in learning about format.

A lot of stories have kissing in them but you don't have to add it if you think it's gross. Your tastes might be different from most people and that's fine. (For example, the idea of a heroic SecUnit might not be something that most people understand.)

You probably don't want guns in your arms. There's a lot of legal problems with being classed as a weapon, like making travel more difficult.

I've used different names in different situations, and I've used human names when pretending to be an augmented human. Currently I just go by "SecUnit" most of the time. Your SecUnit character could have any name, but maybe consider why it has the name it does.

Anyway, I'm glad you and your aunt are doing okay. World Hoppers is a good show. If you're interested in adventure serials, you might try Timestream Defenders Orion, Legends of the Fire, and Adventures in the Free Systems.

[artralichoard]

Rock Climbers au

Last and definitely NOT least, Raph is the Boulderer of the brothers. He loves pushing his strength on really complex routes and intense overhanges. He is either in an intense focus trying to complete his latest boulder problem, or doing the most rediculous things on the wall. He will rope anyone and everyone into his shinanigans. "ok but what if we do this route with JUST our left hand and leg? yeah? that would be fun!" or "what if we put our hand here on this hold, then use this hold to keep your self on the wall- what? yeah I know mean you'd be upside down but thats fine! it goes. trust me" or "oh wait! this hold is perfect for a bathang, donnie c'mon lets see who can hang the longest!"

Boulder is also really fun for Raph because it helps him work on his problem solving skill and thinking ahead. Theres been plenty of time where the brothers are cheering Raph on while he works on a particularly hard problem, only for him to pause mid route. when asked Raph can only respon "I didn't think I'd get this far! wheres the next hold? where do I go from here!?" before falling off the wall in defeat. Donnie tries to instill routereading into Raphs head but it never sticks.

Outside of Bouldering, Raph also like Top Rope. He like working on his stamina, which Top Rope climbing definitely puts to the test. Especially when he has Mikey belaying him, who will bring out Dr. Delicate Touch to get Raph up the wall! "ok I don't think I got anything left, you can bring me down Mikes!" "Nope! you aint getting down till I say so! now go one more time!" He like the burn of a good work out, but hates the idea of Lead Climbing and refuses to try it despite Leo's askance. Top Rope however give Raph the security to climb taller walls reletively stress free.

Mikey | Leo | Donnie

Hooray all the boys are done!!! I really enjoyed making all of these, I can never draw Raph too well so I am exteremely happy with how this turned out! (I may be a little biased as Raph has always been my fave in almost any iteration and I am a boulderer at heart)

Like I mentioned in Mikey's post, most if not all of the inspiration for this au come from my irl experience climbing with my friends. some of the poses I used even are straight up from pics I have of us in our shinannigans XD.

I might come back to this to include April, Casey and Jr. but i'm not 100% sure so for now that is all!! thank you for tolerating my self induldgant au!

[icarusflewsworld]

Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 8 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

I hope you like it! Please feel free to comment and telling me what you think of the story, it would make me very happy. In any case, thank you for reading ❤️❤️

! Don't forget to read the previous chapters ! : Here

Happy reading!

Chapter 8 

The day of the meeting with the queens had arrived. The three Illyrians, after passing the wall, had flown towards the Archerons' domain. Rhysand had to hold Mor in his arms for the journey.

The latter had her gaze into the void thinking about what had happened before their departure. She had turned with a big smile towards Azrielle so that he would carry her and they could fly together -as they had always done since he had always insisted on having her in his arms when they flew- but there, he had categorically refused with a cold "no" even taking a step back. Mor had asked him why and Azriel had not answered but Mor knew why, it was because he had met his soul mate.

Azriel simply couldn't bring himself to take another woman than Luxiana in his arms. The very idea disgusted him so much that it burned his skin. He almost wanted to grimace in front of Mor if he hadn't had respect for her.

Mor had given him a sympathetic smile, making him believe she understood when she didn't. Nothing had happened with Luxiana and he wasn't even sure if she was his soulmate, yet, and while he had loved her for five hundred years, suddenly he decided to ignore her because of a stranger. She was completely disgusted, but when she had gone to Cassian to have him carry her flying and he had told her "Sorry, I can't... I don't want to either" she had felt like her heart was being ripped out.

Cassian had frowned in incomprehension as he saw Azriel reject Mor. Carrying her while flying was nothing wrong or romantic, he didn't understand why he hadn't wanted to do it but when Mor had walked towards him, a ball of anxiety had tightened his stomach. He had simply told himself that it was wrong. Mor was his friend of course, but holding her like that when it wasn't Luxiana made him feel like he was dying. He simply couldn't bring himself to do that. To touch another woman than Luxiana even if it was Mor his friend.

She had then looked towards Rhysand with apprehension but he had given her an apologetic smile as he opened his arms to her. She had clung to him smiling as if nothing had happened but a bitter taste lingered on her tongue.

Mor was his cousin and he needed her to meet the queens so he had resigned himself to taking her with him but he was still afraid. He was afraid of doing something wrong, he was afraid that Luxiana would see him in the arms of another woman and think he was taken. He was afraid that she would think that he loved a woman. He was afraid that she would think that she had no chance with him.

For several days, Azriel and Cassian had been anxious for the exact same reason as last time. They were going to see their soul mate again and hoped with all their might that she was okay. Rhysand was anxious for the same reasons but on top of that, there was the stress of meeting the queens. But the anxiety of the meeting had completely vanished when they arrived at the Archerons and Luxiana had not been there.

Feyre, who had joined them with Tamlin and Lucien at the Archerons and who had arrived at the same time as them, had gotten ahead of the three Illyrians. “Where is Luxi?” she had asked worriedly.

“Busy,” Nesta had simply answered in her usual coldness as she led them into the large dining room.

Feyre had frowned a little more. Her best friend wouldn't have missed this meeting with the queens for nothing in the world, especially not when it could get out of hand and when she was surrounded by dangerous Faes. She must do something very important and knowing Luxiana, very dangerous. Now she was worried. And what worried her even more was the way the lord of the night court and his two brothers looked as worried as she did. They were throwing each other looks of worry and stress, which Feyre didn't like too much. She didn't really know what it meant but she knew she didn't like what it implied.

The queens finally arrived and the meeting took place. Rhysand, to prove his good, showed them Velaris, revealing to the world this city kept secret for centuries. Tamlin, Lucien and Feyre were surprised to learn of the existence of this place where life seemed peaceful, far from the rumors that overwhelmed the lord of the night court.

Despite this, all the queens refused to listen to Rhysand, and they all ended up leaving one by one. All of them, without even leaving Rhys the first half of the book he needed to neutralize the cauldron.

They were all still in the living room, arms hanging, staring into space, as the last queen had just left. A heavy silence had settled in where no one was really coming back from what had just happened.

Feyre was completely confused and panicked. How was she going to protect the wall and her sisters from Hybern? Without this book, they had no chance of stopping her. She had told Luxiana all this, and she was sure she would have found a way to get this book, so why wasn't she here?

Azriel hadn't listened to a damn thing about the meeting or what the queens had said. He had spread his shadows everywhere trying to figure out where his soulmate was and what she was doing. He was worried sick, shaking and not even able to breathe properly. He looked nervously out the window, and towards the hall and the front door, hoping to see her arrive but she hadn't come and none of his shadows could find her. She had disappeared again and damn it, it was killing Azriel with rage and worry. He was really going to have to lock his soulmate away somewhere.

Cassian may have looked confident, sitting there in his chair, but his smirk was fake, his breathing was rapid, and one of his legs was bouncing up and down. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. His soulmate wasn't there, and on top of that, the queens hadn't wanted to give them their half of the book. How was he going to protect his soulmate? And where the hell was she? Why wasn't she there? What if she was injured somewhere in the cold and couldn't move? What if someone had hurt her?

Rhysand was disappointed. He was so disappointed in himself. He wanted so badly to convince the queens to trust him. It would have been a first step towards the dream world in perfect cohabitation with the humans that he wanted to see but he had failed. He had failed to make them give him the book. He had failed to protect his soul mate. If Hybern destroyed the wall, the Archerons' house would be one of the first to fall. Luxiana would be one of the first to be impacted. His soul mate. He slumped into the chair behind him, staring into space. He couldn't let this happen. He had to find a way. He had to. The air was starting to rarefy in his lungs and his throat was starting to tighten. He had to protect her. But where was she? Why wasn't she here? He needed to see her.

As if she had heard the prayers of the three Illyrians, Luxiana entered the house. She opened the door hastily, rushing into the hall quickly sighing happily as she felt the warmth of the building. It was so cold outside and she had to wait for the queens to leave to be able to enter and once again… She hadn't brought a coat.

The three Illyrians looked up as they heard the front door open. From where they were, they had a good view of the entrance hall and the door. They could then see their soulmate enter.

She wore a red dress under a white corset with some pattern of the same color as her petticoats. Its wide sleeves fell limply on her arms, revealing the skin of her collarbone and shoulders. The skin on her cheeks was reddened and her breath was visible as she must have been so cold. Her hair was wavy today and gathered in a huge ponytail still half undone, strands hanging on each side of her face. She wore red lipstick and her eyelashes were made up black.

The three Illyrians widened their eyes and gasped as they looked at her. She was gorgeous. Usually she was beautiful, the most beautiful woman they had ever seen but today she was just breathtaking.

Luxiana walked towards them with a very happy face, almost jumping with each of her steps. She stopped in the doorway of the room where they were all, detailing everyone. Then when her eyes fell on Rhysand she smiled at him. She smiled at him with all her teeth in a joyful and reassuring way, revealing her dimples.

Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel were just in awe, unable to do anything but stare at her. She was so beautiful.

Rhysand could take a deep breath, relieved. She was fine and just seeing his soulmate's face and smile at him felt good, lightening the weight on his shoulders. He suddenly felt like everything was going to be okay. His soulmate was a ray of sunshine that had literally chased all the dark thoughts from his brain. She made him breathe, damn it.

Cassian sat up straight in his chair, his mouth half open in surprise, eyeing his soulmate hungrily. It was not possible to be this beautiful. It simply wasn't. The red of her skirts and on her lips gave her a sensual look that made Cassian hot from head to toe. This woman was his soulmate and she was so attractive. What god had he prayed to for such a soulmate? What had he done in his life to be lucky enough to have Luxiana as his soulmate? Damn, and if it wasn't really his soulmate and it was a trick from Hybern then he would thank him because this woman was incredible, she was a gift.

Azriel was paralyzed. His shadows hadn't heard her arrive. The shadows he'd left here to watch over her hadn't even felt her. She'd disappeared and appeared without him knowing how. And on top of that, she was beautiful. She'd put on makeup and she was well dressed. She was attractive. She wasn't just sexy, no, she'd gotten ready. She'd gotten ready for someone. He had no other possible reason. She'd made herself beautiful for another man and disappeared with him. That's why she hadn't been there when they'd arrived. The more he thought about it, the more he boiled with rage. His rapid breathing did nothing to help the overwhelming anger that was compressing his muscles. He gritted his teeth. No matter what happened, no matter how much Rhys refused, he wouldn't leave her alone here for another second. He would kidnap her if he had to but there was no way she was going to stay there with the possibility of seeing another man who could touch her when only Azriel had the right to do so.

But it was Mor who was the most surprised. This woman was downright hot and that was just an understatement. The more Mor looked at this woman, the more she reassured herself in the idea that she liked women. But who was this woman? She glanced at Rhysand to see if he knew her and then she understood. She understood when she saw Rhys take a deep breath while looking at the young woman. She understood when she shifted her gaze to Cassian who was looking at the blonde with hair even lighter than hers with a look shining with wonder. She understood when she saw Azriel clenching his teeth and fists in rage. This woman was their soul mate. An aftertaste of jealousy emerged in Mor. So it was her. She was the one who had stolen the hearts and thoughts of her three best friends. And the worst part of all this was that she couldn't even blame her. She seemed so cute that she too would surely have given up everything for her if she had been her soulmate.

Feyre shot up from her chair, leaning on the table in front of her, angry at her best friend. “Where have you been? We needed you.” She knew her best friend could have gotten that book. She was sure of it. Didn’t she understand the importance of this meeting? And damn it, she needed her help.

The three Illyrians glanced at Feyre, glad she had asked the question for them. It would have seemed weird if they had done it, but they were dying to know where she was and, more importantly, who she was with.

Luxiana looked at Feyre and her smile faded to one of sympathy. She huffed with an apologetic look on her face. "Excuse me, I wish I could have been there but I... I got held up somewhere." She took a step towards Feyre and was about to take another but was interrupted by Azriel.

“Somewhere or with someone?” he spat, one of his nostrils flaring with anger. He was dying of jealousy and felt like he was burning inside. He saw Rhysand and Cassian give him a disapproving look out of the corner of his eye and he saw everyone else, including Luxiana, give him a surprised look at his words and tone but he didn’t care. He just couldn’t help it. He was almost convulsing. He swore he would find out who she had been with and he would burn every inch of his skin.

Luxiana had to blink several times as she searched for words, looking at Azriel in surprise. Why did he care where she was and if she was with someone? She crossed her arms, scowling. "Both, I suppose, but it doesn't concern you."

Azriel twitched, gritting his teeth a little more painfully. He took a step forward to approach Luxiana with a threatening air.

Luxiana had this defense mechanism: to take on a confident and haughty air when she was disturbed by something so as not to show her weaknesses, what she really felt or how impacted she was always because of everything people were constantly saying. And there, facing this Illyrian who seemed jealous and angry and who she found more than sexy, it was the only reaction her body could have. Defense mechanism to not show what she really felt. How intimidated she was. How ready she was to tell everything she had just done to this fae because he was downright sexy just so he would smile at her. Damn, she probably had a slight psychological problem.

Azriel seethed even more at the young woman's reaction and took another step forward, determined to cross the distance with his soulmate, to lead her into another room and make her spill about who she was with. But Cassian stood up from his chair, bypassing the table to run towards Azriel. He put a hand on his chest to stop him. Azriel stopped, almost growling in anger and disappointment, not even seeing Cassian's disapproving look.

"Az," Rhysand called out, but his brother didn't hear him. The purple-eyed Fae huffed, running a hand over his face, then looked at Luxiana. "Excuse him," he said, trying to find excuses for them. "We're a little upset by the unsuccessful meeting we just had, we put a lot of effort into failing. It's quite unpleasant."

Luxiana looked back at Rhysand, taking him in completely. He was handsome. Why were those three Illyrians so damn hot? That said, he looked genuinely disappointed that he hadn't managed to convince the queens, which made Luxiana a little sad. She nodded, accepting his apology, and then moved to sit on one of the chairs across from Rhys, where one of the queens had been sitting a few minutes before. She had to play it smart. "The queens wouldn't give you their half of the book?"

Rhysand shook his head and was about to answer but Feyre cut him. "No, and it's partly your fault."

Luxiana's eyes widened. "What? And how can it be my fault?"

"Because if you had been there you would have managed to convince them yourself!" Feyre looked a little sad as she said that although her tone mostly conveyed anger. "Where the hell were you ? What did you have to do that was more important than that?"

Luxiana was speechless. Everyone was staring at her intently as if her life suddenly mattered to everyone. She finally noticed the pretty blonde in the corner of the room and narrowed her eyes as she studied her. She was downright sexy. Who was she?

“Answer the question,” Azriel spat again, his eyes bloodshot. He was on Luxiana’s side, a few steps away from her. Cassian was still in front of him, holding him by the torso, preventing him from going any further.

"Az, this is the last time I warn you." Rhysand said, glaring at his brother. If he spoke to his soulmate like that again, he'd make him eat his teeth.

Luxiana rolled her eyes at Azriel's words through gritted teeth. She had to come up with an excuse and fast. She had to do something but she couldn't do it while Cassian and Azriel were on that side of the table. They would definitely see her move. "I was with Kayden, okay? I didn't see the time go by."

Rhysand froze, gritting his teeth, stopping himself from widening his eyes. Trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible.

A ball of anxiety exploded in Azriel's stomach, cutting off his breath and burning his eyes. So she was with another man? And if she hadn't seen the time pass and if she had missed a meeting so important to this man, they were surely doing inappropriate things. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to destroy everything.

Cassian turned abruptly to Luxiana, his eyes wide. Kayden? Was that a man's name?! "Kayden? Who is that?" He widened his eyes even more as he glanced guiltily at Rhys, realizing his words.

Rhys blew out all his air, running a hand over his face. Lucien and Tamlin glanced at each other, understanding that the behavior of the three Illyrians was more than strange. And Luxiana studied Cassian and Azriel strangely, her eyes narrowed, not understanding their behavior.

“Both of you get out,” Rhys ordered his brothers.

Cassian gave him a look that was burning with anger. She was their soulmate too, he had no business ordering them out. Didn't he also want to know who this Kayden was?

Rhysand answered him with a stare that was irrefutable. Of course, he wanted to know who this man was with whom she had spent her afternoon and what their relationship was, but he didn't want to disturb her. He didn't want anyone to suspect who she was to them, especially not Tamlin standing just a footstep away. He could attack her to get to him like he had done with his mother and sister and he wouldn't survive that. Not a second time.

Cassian's jaw clenched suddenly, understanding Rhysand's thoughts and emotions through the new connection between them. He reluctantly turned toward the exit and strode toward the hall.

Azriel, who had not taken his dark eyes off Luxiana, followed Cassian with a robotic gait. He was going to find out who this man was himself and he was going to do it now.

Luxiana, seeing the only two faes at her side with their backs turned, took advantage of this moment. She leaned forward, letting herself fall on the table, theatrically feigning a desperate expression. She slammed her forehead on the wood. "I can't believe they didn't want to give you the book? Why didn't they do that? Didn't they understand anything? It's absurd, I can't believe it..." And she continued to speak, waving one of her hands next to her head pressed against the table to divert attention while her other hand was busy going under her petticoat to catch the part of the book of breathing that was stuck in her lace garter on her thigh.

She couldn't help but smirk as she felt the book on her fingertips. Luckily, no one could see her face pressed against the table as she continued to spout words with no purpose other than to distract their attention.

She grabbed the book and slid it discreetly down her leg. Feeling the magical leather fabric she had wrapped the book in so no one could feel its power. She pulled herself together and melted her smile so no one could hear in her words how proud she was as she remembered what she had to do to get that piece of fabric and how many books she had to read to know about its existence.

She fought back a smile as she remembered how she had cleverly stolen half of the book from the queens just a few days ago and they still hadn't noticed.

She stood up suddenly, making Lucien and Feyre-who weren't expecting it- jump. "No but seriously, if the wall is destroyed we're done! We're right next to it, there's going to be a lot of dead people, what are we going to do?" She continued to speak while in fact she was checking that everyone wasn’t noticing what she was holding in one of her hands. She turned around, making sure that Cassian and Azriel were still not looking at her and that they had indeed left the mansion.

She caught a glimpse of the two Illyrians still in the entrance hall. They had almost reached the door but seemed to be walking very slowly, listening to her. Except that they didn't have their eyes on her, which was enough for Luxiana.

Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel listened very carefully to what Luxiana was saying. She seemed so sad and panicked that the queens didn't want to help them. She felt in danger and it broke their hearts. Their poor fragile soulmate didn't feel safe at her home anymore because they had failed. They cursed themselves. They were also scared to death. She was right, this house would be the first to fall if the wall were to be destroyed. Their soulmate would be the first to be affected and in danger. They clenched their fists.

She continued speaking as she pulled the book out from under her skirts and shoved it under the chair she was sitting on, pretending to panic and grabbing the sides of the chair seat. Then she suddenly froze, falling silent, frowning and tilting her head. Her acting must have been good.

Everyone looked at her in confusion as she stopped and even Cassian and Azriel turned to look at her.

"What's that?" She leaned to the side to look under the chair and then pretended to pull the book out from underneath it as if she hadn't been the one to put it there. She lifted the book up to bring it in front of her and show it to everyone.

Rhysand and Tamlin stood up suddenly, their eyes wide.

Rhysand gently reached for the book that Luxiana was now holding out to him. Azriel and Cassian strode over to watch as Rhysand placed the book on the table and unwrapped it.

"What is this?" Cassian asked as he positioned himself next to Luxiana ready to protect her if it was something dangerous.

"I don't know," Luxiana answered, continuing her fake expression of confusion, "it was under the chair."

Rhysand opened the cloth and a general exclamation of surprise echoed through the room. "This is the queens' part of the book of breathing."

"The queen who was sitting there must have put it there earlier!" Lucien exclaimed, pointing at Luxiana and the chair she was sitting on.

Luxiana quickly stood up, moving away from the chair as if it scared her. And to say she didn't think she was a good actress.

Feyre narrowed her eyes at her best friend and then smiled. It was her. That was why she hadn't been there during the meeting. She had stolen the book from the queens. Feyre lowered her head to hide her smile so no one could see it. How could she have doubted Luxiana? She raised her head to give a knowing look to her best friend who came out of character for a second to give that look back to Feyre.

Rhysand breathed out in relief. "We did it, we have part of the book." He would be able to save his soulmate and the humans. He looked up at Luxiana with shining eyes, silently thanking her for finding the book. The queens had wrapped it in a magical cloth that would prevent her from detecting it, if she hadn't found it, it could have stayed there for a long time or could have even fallen into the wrong hands.

Luxiana caught his gaze and smiled kindly. A smile that made Rhys breathe.

“We should go,” Rhysand added, even though he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to spend more time with Luxiana, but Tamlin was here too, and now wasn’t the right time. Not when Hybern was threatening his mate. “Now that we have this part of the book, we need to get the second part. There’s no time to waste.”

“You better keep us informed,” Feyre insisted, staring at Rhysand coldly.

The latter only nodded solemnly before going around the table to join Azriel and Cassian but he stopped next to Luxiana who smiled innocently at him with all her teeth. Rhys' heart beat a second more firmly in his chest. He loved it when she smiled at him like that. It made him forget absolutely everything. He looked her up and down greedily with eyes that he knew were sparkling. Damn, she was so beautiful. But he gritted his teeth, looking down for a second, remembering that she had made herself beautiful for another man.

Azriel -feeling a change in the bond that now united him to Rhysand, understanding that he finally realized that his soulmate was seeing another man- took advantage of this moment to move to Luxiana. He grabbed her by the arm, without thinking more, to start pulling her towards the hall.

Cassian and Rhysand followed him without question, knowing full well what he was going to do. What they were going to do.

[blu3-ja3]

Did I plan to write a feral/murderous O'Connor and how she nearly breaks completely... No! Not at all. But the idea of watching my most stable character slowly breaking is interesting to me so enjoy! This will in first person pov not the usual third person limited that I tend to rock. Enjoy!

!TRIGGER WARNING! Graphic Depictions of Torture and Murder, Psychological Break, Guns, Forceful Drug Use, Sleep Deprivation, Starvation, Sexual Harassment, Severe Disassociation

I'm telling y'all this dark. I don't know what's wormed it's way into my brain but it's not leaving till I have this out. Should I probably not post this? Yes! Am I going to anyways also yes!

🕊️!DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!🕊️

Day 1: It's to be a simple week-long mission, my team and I are going into Urzikstan to render aid to civilians. Laswell made it abundantly clear this was just to help where we could, if there's combat we are not to interfere. Farah assured Laswell nothing has occurred and that this is purely to assist with the aftermath. So none of the other 141 came with me. I was a little worried for them as they're being sent on a few low intensity missions also, but I've always enjoyed working with civilians so I took the mission and calmed myself. I'm currently sitting in the large red cross tent updating Price and Laswell. Today was mostly for setting up and preparing nothing too intense.

Day 2: It's been busy, there's plenty of work for me and my team to do. Everything from simple injuries like scratches and to complex burns and stitches. We're mostly treating infections and illnesses but it's been nice talking with the locals and learning of their rebuilding efforts. Alex and Farah help with translation and organization, keeping everything flowing nicely. It's been exhausting but fulfilling, I try to give Laswell an update but I can't seem to get through so I'll try again tomorrow. Probably have to get closer to a long ranged receiver but that's a tomorrow problem.

Day 3: A young man came to my tent asking if I could do a house call, his grandfather was very sick and in no shape to travel. I agree to help before informing my lieutenant of where I'll be and to radio me if something urgent needs my attention. He's a fast kid but I keep pace well enough, my basic medical bag is with me along with my pistol; visible at my side, and my knife; hidden within my clothing. We arrive at a small metal shack with no windows and a small door.

The young man enters before me, holding the door open and waving me in. I have to duck to get through the door. I spotted the old man instantly, he's laying with his back towards us so I can't get a good look at him just yet. I move over to the laying figure and sit on my knees next to him, placing my aid bag down to my right.

I hear rapid shuffling as something hard is pressed to the back of my head. I know that feeling anywhere, this isn't my first time being robbed while on call. Closing my eyes, taking a deep breath and raising my hands slowly. When I open my eyes again the figure in front of me rolls over holding a rifle, it's hard for me to make out in the dim lighting.

"There's only mild pain relievers in my bag, I don't carry anything stronger when on a house call." I try to keep my voice calm and even as the barrel of the gun moves a bit lower towards my neck.

"We're not here for the drugs, we're here for you; Captain Maevis O'Connor: Second Commanding Officer of the SAS's 141 squadron and dear friend to one Captain John Price... That is you no?" A man's voice with a thick Russian accent comes from the room to my left. I don't recognize the voice but they know me which is worrying.

"You are going to be very helpful and tell us all we ask... Or you die! Understood?" I nod my head slowly trying to catch a glimpse of the figure talking but I can't see him.

"Now take her away, we'll talk in better conditions!" Before I can respond I feel a cloth cover my mouth and nose as the man in front of me reaches out and holds the cloth there. I try to struggle, to reach for my radio or gun, anything, but my limbs go weak and my vision fades.

I wake up to cold water splashing against me, bright lights on my face causing me to squint. I try to move my arms but they're bound, my legs are free though. I'm stripped down to just my tank top and cargo pants, no boots or socks. I blink against the light as a masculine figure moves in front of me. He reaches towards me to grab my face, I try to pull back before he grabs my chin.

"You lamb are going to tell me everything you know willingly... Or we'll break you and you'll tell us after. Which would you prefer?"

I turn my head into his hand and bite as hard as I can, I can taste blood in my mouth but I continue biting. A heavy blow to my gut caused me to release my hold. I hear the man cursing in Russian as I receive another blow to my stomach.

"Don't do this Lamb, it will not go how you plan. Please I hate to beat a woman with such a pretty face but I will if I have too."

"Go feck yourself..."

"I just want to know about your wonderful Captain, you see he knows about the location of a very good friend of mine and I would like to see him. Now you're his second in command and a very close ally to John, you must know something about where my friend is, no?"

"Doesn't ring any bells"

"Ah! But I haven't told you my friends name yet! Aren't you a little bit curious?"

"No, don't care either..." Another punch this time higher just below my sternum. I wheeze a bit from the blow.

"Hmm, so you truly haven't heard about the failings of Price to Vladimir Makarov?"

I freeze a bit at the name, I've never heard anything from John himself but Laswell gave me the operation file. There was a lot of blacked out text even at my clearance but from what I could read it's a good thing he's in some unknown black site prison. This isn't going to go well for me, even if I tell them everything I know I doubt they'll believe me nor will they let me go.

"I know of him but they never let me read the operation file. Wasn't interested in reading about a mad man who's dead in a ditch somewhere..."

"AH! But he's not dead, he's very much alive Ms. O'Connor... And you will tell me where."

Another punch, harder this time, the man says something in Russian and I only pick up a few words. Nothing helpful, I feel stupid for never taking Nikoli up on his offer to teach me more than just the basics.

The figure punching me laughs and walks out of my field of view. It's a small field of view due to the bright light shining directly into my face. I feel myself being grabbed by my arms and pulled up, the light in front of me moves and I can see I'm in a very simple concrete cell, no bed, bathroom, nothing just a pipe coming from over top all the way through to the other side and a small table with a chain on it.

The Russian man who was talking has his back to me as he opens the door. I throw my head back hard into the skull of the man holding me from behind and his grip loosens. I take my opportunity to bum rush the man, slamming myself hard against him and the open door. He's knocked prone as I continue to run. Blood pumping in my ears to turn a corner and come face to face with two very heavily armed guards. I try to rush past them but they grab me and pull me back, I kick and flail trying to get another opportunity to escape.

"Oh how I wish you didn't do that Lamb, now my friend will have to teach you a lesson. Demetrius?" A figure steps out of the cell I was in, he has a bloody nose. I feel a small twinge of satisfaction from seeing it bleeding and swelling.

"Teach her well!" With that I'm tossed back into the cell after a guard bounds my ankles, I trip forwards causing the air to be knocked from my lunges. I hear heavy footsteps as the man, Demetrius, looms over me. He steps onto my left leg putting heavy pressure on it, then his full weight as he kicks my side once, knocking the little air in my lungs back out. I watch as he pulls out something shiny and metallic, before placing it onto his hands. I feel a hard blunt pain as his boot connects with my side again, once, twice, three times before he stops. The man over me chuckles darkly as he reaches down and pulls me up by my hair causing most of it to fall out the bun it was tied up in.

He drags me towards the back wall, he grabs something from the table and ties the chain around my wrist. He gets the chain over the pipe and begins to pull me up higher and higher, my toes barely touching the cold cement ground. My arm high above my head stretching my arms and shoulders in an uncomfortable and painful way, there's already a bull ache in my shoulder.

"Such a lovely body." The man's hand begins to caress my hips as I try to move away. He clicks his tongue before stepping away again, he removes his jacket and turns to me with a sadistic smile. He approaches, before landing multiple punches to my stomach and sternum.

Each blow I can feel the brass knuckles he's wearing. There's a slight throbbing pain after every hit, I know I'm going to bruise. He continues to beat me to near unconsciousness before stopping. He leaves me chained up as the first man comes back, he grabs the chair I was in originally and turns it towards me sitting down in front of me.

"Interesting, Demetrius didn't touch your face. I have to say I'm happy about that, you have such a lovely face Lamb." I just stared past him not once looking at him but keeping my head up.

"Come now Lamb if you tell us what we want you'll be free to walk your cell. I'm sure your arms are hurting now, no?" I keep my mouth shut and continue staring forwards. He mumbles to himself before standing to leave.

"Give her half rations and water, you will get more if you speak Lamb."

This cycle continues for a while, Demetrius comes into the cell beats me to near unconsciousness then Wolf (This is the only name I hear anyone call him) comes to try to talk to me. I just stare past him, keeping my head high and my mouth shut. I don't know how much time has passed. I guess a few days but I know Price and the 141 will come. Farah and Alex know I left the area and I've not come back... Unless something has happened to them as well.

I'm not given much food or water, my stomach keeps growling and there's the faint gnawing sensation in my abdomen. I'm kept in the same position, hanging by my bound wrists from the chain above me. Demetrius walks into my cell and drags in a little medical cart. Wolf follows closely behind him before approaching his chair and sits down crossing legs.

"Oh little Lamb you've made this very difficult for us. You've held out well against Demetrius and I must commend you for that." He gives a little clap as Demetrius chuckles darkly next to me.

"But we need the information Lamb so Demetrius is going to start using his favorite tools. Now I'm being kind and giving you one last chance to speak." I see Demetrius picks up a blade and wince as he pulls it across my cheek. I hiss as the pain spreads through my face. I can feel the warm blood trickle down my cheek, it's a stark contrast to the cold cell I'm stuck in.

"Feck. You." I hiss, I know I just have to hold out. My team is coming for me. Price won't abandon me no matter what anyone says. I've seen him do it before for people he's known for less time. Las Almas and Alejandro's team come to my mind as it's the most recent example.

Wolf waves a hand and I feel the sharp dragging pain as Demetrius drags his blade across my upper left arm along the underside. The blade is sharp so I don't feel the pain until after the wound is made, a thumping pain that matches the beating of my heart. I can feel the rapid dripping of my blood, the sound of my blood hitting the ground echoing through the room.

"Lamb? Do you have anything to tell me?"

"You're feckin stupid if you think a simple cut will get me to tell you anything." I stare straight ahead as I try to distract myself from the pain. I can feel another slow pull of the knife across my upper hips ripping through my skin and tank top. I bite my tongue refusing to make any noise.

"Oh come now Lamb let us hear you at least." I keep myself as calm as possible as another cut is pulled across the same hip slightly above the first one. I hear him sigh as Wolf stands up and walks out the cell, turning around to look back towards me.

"If you wish for Demetrius to stop his work all you have to do is talk Ms. O'Connor. Cut her rations again, maybe delirium from starvation will help our little Lamb loosen her lips."

Demetrius continues to slash through my skin and I focus on anything else but the pain. So I start to pull back into my mind. It's like I'm slowly carving a little hole in my consciousness, it's safe and warm there. I can't talk when there as well so I can't let anything slip. Falling into the little cave helps me deal with the pain and hunger, I know I won't have to do this much longer. Price is coming, he'll be here and he will help me get out of here.

I'm dragged out of my head as I feel a hand grab my chin and something slimy drag across my cheek. Demetrius licks up my cheek, collecting my blood and groaning. I feel sick as he meets my eyes and the same maniacal grin spreads across his face. I scream as a piercing pain radiates from my lower right hip, another scream is ripped from my chest as the knife is twisted sharply before being pulled out harshly. The hammering pain matches the rapid beating in my chest.

"Oh so pretty when you cry, I'm going to burn this picture into my mind for later. Thank you Maevis."

He moves away and I quietly cry trying desperately to crawl my way back into the safe little cave in my mind. But this seems to have caved in a little, I can't pull back as far. I can still feel every drag of Demetrius's knife across my chest, arms, thighs, and back. I keep telling myself that it's okay, they're coming. They're going to get me out of here and I'll be safe.

This cycle doesn't last as long as the previous one, or at least I think so, it's hard to tell time. My stomach stopped growling, but the gnawing had spread from my lower abdomen to my chest. Every time I breathe I can feel it biting down on my ribs, like it's trying to eat it way out of me. A wild feral beast chewing at bars of metal in desperation to flee.

Wolf walks in with another man's and Demetrius. I don't bother looking at them keeping my sight fixed on the same spot as before. I've pulled myself out of my head, out of my cave, just a bit to listen to what Wolf has to say. He gives away more than he knows by talking to me. A great little bit of information he's revealed is that he's not the one in charge. He's a middle man.

I keep replaying Ghost's words in my head when he talked to me about combating interrogation. 'Never look at your capture but always listen. If you give them nothing they'll get desperate and will show their hands more often than not. That information can be used and could be more deadly than a weapon. The real task is surviving long enough to know how to use it against them.'

"Lamb, you're being unnecessarily stubborn. You're forcing my hand but again I'm giving you a chance to talk before Ivan is put to work. So I'll ask you again, where is Makarov, what do you know?" He sounds like he's begging, but I'm not stupid and keep my mouth shut.

Wolf sighs and shakes his head, gesturing to the shorter man, Ivan. He approaches me holding a needle with liquid in it. I feel my heart rate spike as I try to move away. I feel a pair of hands grab me and hold me still, I glance back to see Demetrius smiling that same disgusting smile. I start thrashing hard ignoring the pain as I reopen wounds and the strain in my arms and shoulders. I feel a slight prick in my neck and something warm spread through my neck, shoulder, and upper skull.

I retreat into my mind, as far back as I can get hoping that whatever was pushed into my veins would have a harder time affecting me. I know it's unlikely but it's all I can do to comfort myself.

It takes some time for me to feel the changes, everything is brighter... sharper. I can feel every dull ache and thrum of pain across my skin. When Wolf talks it's loud and the lights seem to flicker brighter when he does. He asks his same questions, using the same leverage that isn't that going to change my mind. I'm acutely aware of Demetrius's hands still on my hips, his thumb rubbing circles into my hips. Then he squeezes them and I thrash away from him. Wolf barks something in Russian and Demetrius leaves the room.

'Price is coming, they'll save me. I just have to hold out.' I can feel myself mumbling away, slurring my speech as I keep saying my little mantra. A part of me is very aware saying this out loud isn't a good idea but I can't stop the part of my brain that's blabbering. It's strange how aware I am of myself but unable to control my body. It's because I'm in my safe little cave in my head, just barely keeping my head above the water that has rapidly started flooding in. The pain and drugs mixing with me retreating into myself is dangerous but I'm not drowning. So I stay, breathing calmly, hoping I can pull myself out before I drown.

"Oh Lamb, you truly think Price will come for you? It has been eight days, they do not care for you. Though your little American friend tried to come get you with a small group. We have him in another building, he's faring far better than you. He holds no information that we need so we haven't touched him... Much."

"You're... Wrong! Price... Never! He wouldn't... They'll come... They have to... They will..." I feel something warm slide down my cheeks... Tears, why am I crying? I know they'll come to get me. So why am I crying?

"Poor Lamb is so loyal to someone who has abandoned you, Makarov would never repay such loyalty with this betrayal... Just tell me where he is and I'll personally inform him of your part in his escape."

"No" I hear Wolf goan in frustration before standing and leaving.

"Ivan dose her again when this round wears off. Keep doing so while Demetrius does his usual routine."

Wolf leaves me to Demetrius and Ivan. Demetrius seemed all too happy to continue his work with his knives. He raved about all the foul things he's going to do with me in mind, what he'd like to do to me, how he's more than happy to have such a resilient woman break to him. Every word made me sick and I couldn't handle listening to it anymore. His perverted words mixing with the pain is maddening.

I'm taking a risk, I know it but it's the only way for me to feel safe. I stop trying to float, stopping wading in this water, letting myself sink into thick liquid miasma of drugs and pain. It's calming in a way, everything is muffled and muddy. I feel myself drifting deeper into the strangely numbing cocktail. Safe and comfortable...

I don't know how long I drifted in the cocktail mixture of pain and drugs. I know it's been days, eventually though I resurfaced. Ivan and Demetrius eventually leave as I slowly come down from the drug. My head is pounding and my body feels like it's on fire so I stay tucked away in my flooded cave, head barely above the water. I have to crawl back out a bit as Wolf returns to my cell.

"I tried Lamb, I tried very hard to keep you out of Sergey's room but you are too stubborn. Demetrius get her down."

My ankles are untied and the chain holding me up lowers. I can't help the sigh of relief as my arms fall in front of me. I stumbled forward as I felt a hand shoving me forwards, I got the hint and started walking. There are two armed figures in front and behind me, Demetrius and Wolf to my left and right.

I'm forced to walk for a bit, passing other cells most are empty or impossible to see in. The ones with people in them aren't looking any better than me. Eventually we reach a door and I'm shoved through. It's another cement room with a small window at the top of the far back wall. It's dark I can see there's outlines in the dark of items but I can only make out a few things. There's a light on over a single chair and there's a man standing next to the chair. That's the one thing I can see clearly.

I'm shoved into the chair, my hands are rebound behind the chair. My legs are bound together and then tied to the front two legs. Wolf sits down in another chair in front of me, Demetrius leans against the wall next to the door, and the other man, Sergey walks behind me, draping a rope around the front of me and placing both hands on my shoulders.

"I suggest you speak up now Lamb, Sergey isn't going to give you much time to speak" I stare straight ahead mentally preparing myself for what is next. I don't know if I can fully retreat into myself but I have to protect myself and going there is the only way I know how.

Sergey's hand moved to grab the rope and hold it taunt. I take one last deep breath as the rope is wrapped slowly around my throat. I try to keep calm knowing that if I panic it'll be exactly what they want. But I also know that not panicking will be more difficult as this goes on.

"Last chance Lamb, all you have to do is tell us what you know. You'll be taken back to your cell maybe even get to visit your American friend, yes?"

I say nothing, slowly I feel the rope get tighter and tighter. At first there was not much of a change, it's like breathing with my compression bra and full kit tactical vest. There's a restriction but if you know how to compensate for it, it's not that hard to deal with. Then it's like running for too long, I'm bringing in air but it's shallow. Wheezing and panting, it's not pleasant but it's not enough to kill but it's uncomfortable.

As the rope gets tighter I can feel burning around my throat, the rope rubbing and cutting into the skin making it raw and tender. I can hear my heart beat, feel it thrumming in my skull. You know that feeling when you're holding your breath under water, those last moments of desperation before you push yourself out of the water? Imagine that but there's no surface to break through, I'm just sitting with the feeling. I force myself to retreat deeper into myself.

As soon as I do my body reacts, leg and arms twitching trying to fight against my restraints. My vision begins to blur and blacken around the edges, I can feel my lunges burning like there's fire slowly engulfing my chest. My whole body is thrumming and pounding in tune with my heart, like everything is pulsing. I can feel a cold sheen of sweat across my body, I think I'm crying but it's hard to tell. I think I'm too dehydrated to cry but I'm sweating so I can't be too certain. It's hard to think, to move, to do anything except gasp desperately for air.

I'm teetering on the edge of oblivion, I know if this keeps up I won't be around to see salvation. A part of me is hoping for that little push, to have this all end. I wonder if it would be the same as when I retreat into myself, just floating in the miasma of distant feelings. I wonder if I'll feel the pain of my body slowly fade or if it'll just all disappear at once...

Suddenly the pressure is gone, I'm shunted out of my brain into the driver's seat. I gasp for air, gulping and heaving trying desperately to air in my lungs. The feelings are still there but faint like I'm drifting when I know I'm not. I'm very much in the middle of all of this and I can't retreat to find comfort.

"So are you willing to talk? Because the next thing isn't going to be as nice as this Lamb."

"Go. Feck. Yourself... You can all go rot..." My voice is horse and strained.

"I really do wish you would just cooperate Ms. O'Connor, it's been eleven days... Price is not coming for you. Why protect him?"

I say nothing keeping my expression stoic, but inside I feel something begins to bleed. It's been slowly cracking slightly oozing something into my veins and to my heart. I'm losing hope, I don't want to think of Price abandoning me but it may be my reality. I get nauseous at that thought, because surely at least one of my team is fighting to come and get me, right?

No, this will get me nowhere. "Go eat a bullet"

"Sergey, you have 3 days with our Lamb here. Why not demonstrate the other event she's going to enjoy with you."

Demetrius walks behind me, grabbing the back of my chair and tilting it back holding it there. Sergey ties a cloth over my face and I instantly know I'm going to have to fight. I hear metal creaking and water rushing, footsteps and splashing getting closer and closer. I take a deep breath at the last possible second.

The water splashes over my face covering the cloth. As soon as I can't hold my breath for any longer I begin to move my head taking deep gasping breaths before moving again. Water invades everything, burning as it goes down my nose and throat, stinging as it rushes across the cut on my cheek. I hold my breath as the water moves across my face, I try to keep my movements subtle. I don't want them to be able to predict me. Eventually the water stops and the rag is removed, the rope around my shoulders is being picked up again.

"Good luck Lamb, Sergey doesn't find pleasure in this work so he'll be changing frequently between the two. I'll see you again in 3 days, hopefully after your time spent with Sergey you'll be more talkative."

I watch as Wolf leaves the room and I feel the rope tighten. There's searing pain all across my neck and a pounding in my head. I'm also incredibly cold, being wet causes the rope to slip and a soft cry escapes my lips as more tears fall from my eyes. I hear Demetrius chuckles darkly and fresh tears fall as my air supply is stolen from me again.

The next chunk of time is numbing. Going back and forth between retreating into my mind to being shunted back out in order to survive drowning it breaks a small part of me. I don't want to give up hope but I can't wait any longer, if I stay any longer I'm going to die. Escaping on my own is just as likely to kill me but there's a chance and I can't hold out any longer.

Wolf drags me back to my original cell, putting me back into the same position as before. He sits down in his chair, dismissing Demetrius and bringing another soldier to stand beside him.

"Oh little Lamb you're losing hope, I can tell. There's a dying spark in your eyes. Do you know how long you've been here?"

I keep my head down, refusing to meet his eye but too tired to keep my head up. I'm so tired, I just want this to stop... But there's only one option that will truly make this stop, I have to escape.

"14 days... Two weeks and nothing from your captain or team. I will leave you for now, let you recover for a few days and think about where your loyalty lies Lamb..." Wolf leaves and so too does the guard.

I have a rough plan on how to get out, Wolf has been true to his words so far. Because of that I've had plenty of time to think and realize that the pipe I'm strung up on is loose. If I can just get enough leverage I'd be able to get myself out. Beyond that it's survival but it's my only chance.

I'm receiving a meal again, once a day or at least that's what I assume the cycle is. There's multiple guards when the meal comes so I can't spring the plan then, but it may be my only hope.

I hear the shifting of my cell door and as I look up through my hair I see Wolf approaching with my food. It's just him in the cell but Demetrius is standing outside smiling at me. I feel nauseous again.

"You've had a day to think Lamb, how are you feeling? Maybe a bit of food will help you better come to the right answer."

"I'd think a lot better if I wasn't strung up like a butchered pig."

"I'd let you down if I could but sadly it is not my call Lamb. If you gave us what we needed then we could let you down Lamb." There's a commotion as multiple armed guards come rushing towards the cell.

"Sir! There is multiple armed soldiers invading cell block A! What should we do?"

My heart leaps to my throat, is it them? Are they finally here? Was I right that they'd come for me!?

"Who are they?"

"Mostly armed militia sir, they're only trying to get to cell block A. Its not the men you warned us about!"

No... No that can't be. Why aren't they here... Why have they left me? What did I do wrong? Surely they're here right? They haven't abandoned me... It's Farah coming to Alex... But do they even know I'm here... Does anyone know... Do they think-

"Send all squads except for A and B squads, they will guard the halls here."

My vision pulls back, back into that safe comforting area of mind that I've scraped and clawed at to keep myself sain. That dark bleeding feeling becomes a flood. I'm not in control, I can't be anymore. I'm not capable of it anymore, so float and sink. The flooding of the black fluid emotion seems to be what's moving me now.

The soldiers rush away and Demetrius turns his back to the cell. Wolf is still sitting in front of me with his back to me and he looks distracted. I grab the chain, pull myself up, swing my body forwards and wrap my legs around Wolf's shoulders. I pulled him towards me so I have better leverage and used that to pry the pipe down.

Once the chain and pipe becomes loose I loop the chain tight around Wolf's neck. And then I pull, putting all of my strength until I feel a pop then keep going until there's another pop and Wolf stops flailing. I drop onto the ground with the body of Wolf underneath me.

I stand, dropping the chains, and grabbing the pipe. Demetrius still has his back to the cell, I move towards the bars. Quickly I get the bar out of the cell and in front of Demetrius, I grab both sides and throw my entire weight back. I can feel him thrashing and clawing at my arms.

"Not so fun being on the other side is it?" I can see the panic in his eyes as he tries to turn his head towards me, something inside me purrs with satisfaction. I throw my weight back once more and hold it until he's no longer moving, until he's no longer breathing, there's a purr again. I check both bodies finding Demetrius's brass knuckles and a knife left in the cell. I cut my hand loose of their bindings and take a moment to let relief flood my system.

I open the cell door and go the opposite way the soldiers ran. My body is moving on its own, going from shadow to shadow. It's like I'm watching from a distance, through a thick fog. Everything is murky and hard to see or hear, but I still know what I'm doing.

I know that I'm currently pressed against a wall listening to three lightly armed guards talk to each other. I can feel the excitement and joy as they split off two and one. I can feel the strain of my body as I grab the guard and pull him towards me. The swift movement of my knife across his throat, the warm coating of blood across my hands. The ache and pain from moving the body to better be hidden.

My body doesn't grab his gun, a part of me understands. I have the element of surprise right now and guns are loud, but I can hear another part of me screaming to grab it. That gun is a safety net and we need that small comfort, it sounds desperate as it please. But whatever is in control doesn't care and keeps moving.

Again finding shadow my body approaches the two guards, they stop and turn their backs to each other and stand facing down two opposite directions. Slowly approaching the one on the right and grabs them. Pivoting so the guard so he's facing his buddies as they scream and shout in Russian. The one not grappled turned and sprayed a spread of bullets hitting his friends. There's warmth spreading across my lower abdomen as the body's blood seeps out all over me and the tattered dirty clothes I'm still wearing. He's still alive so my knife and hands get a fresh coat of red.

Grabbing the dead man's side arm and shooting it twice at the chest of the female guard. The two bodies drop and my body is on the move again. It's odd how different my body is on auto pilot, running purely on instinct, adrenaline, and that dark flooding feeling that is all around me.

I know what it's called, what it is but saying it, acknowledging it feels like it will break something in me. Permanently changing something I could never get back. She knows it and I know it, we both know as well that this is the only way to protect us. So She stays in charge, surviving on feral instincts while I sink slowly deeper into our mind. Escaping further and further away from everything because this is how I'll survive.

She finds more guards, four solo roaming the halls. Each one painted our hands and arms with more red, with each kill I can feel myself sinking further and further away. It's odd I've never allowed Her full control like this, She's always there when I kill. That overwhelming emptiness I feel when I pull the trigger... It scares me every time, so I focus on their humanity and the sadness of ending them. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't.

She finds another two soldiers, dragging the first one away into a shadowy alcove. As soon as the blood on our arms started to cool the other soldier appeared opening fire. The sharp, crystal clear, stab of pain pulls me up to the surface of everything. I have the chance to pull myself into the driver's seat again but it's so comforting to be just drifting. So I let myself sink again, because if I'm going to die then I want to die with whatever comfort I can get... And being adrift in this lonely sea of my mind is the greatest comfort I have.

She moves again tackling our assailant and stabbing into his throat. Standing and moving again we continue down the halls. Then there's the unmistakable sound of rapid gun fire down the hall in front of us. She ducts into the shadows again, slowly moving us towards three figures... All of their backs turned towards us. Distracted by something else and not paying attention to the danger right behind them. I can feel the deep satisfaction She purrs out as it echoes through the waters I'm floating in.

The one furthest back is the first to go as She launches herself onto the back of the first guard. Our knife finds a home in his neck, three times as more red coats more of our body. He's still holding his rifle and all it takes is for her to aim towards the second soldier, his friends impulses do the rest it unloads into number twos back.

I feel myself slipping further away, I can't handle being so close. I can feel everything, the thrumming of pain, the pumping of adrenaline, the warmth of blood soaking my body... The lack of emotions... There's nothing, just death. And that scares me so I sink further below, into the comforts of my mind.

Still holding the body She turns towards the last soldier as he fires repeatedly into his fellow guard's body. Only once he starts to reload his rifle does She begin to move, surging forwards and tackling him to the ground. It's only once we're on the ground that it seems to register that our beloved knife is in the neck of the first guard. Thankfully though we have the brass knuckles from Demetrius's cold corpse.

There's a difference between slicing someone's neck open and beating someone to death. It's a difference I never wanted to know but I do now, I can't seem to slip far enough away. I can feel everything, every crack of bone, every splitting of skin, and every splatter of blood. I force myself further away, I can't deal with this.

She grabs the soldier's knife and stabs it into his chest. I can hear the movement even through the pounding of our heart and our heavy breathing. She turns pulling our new knife from the guard's chest and begins to move towards the last living guard. She stood over him before falling to our knees, one on either side of him.

"No, please... Please! PLEA-" His begging is interrupted as the first stab goes into his back, puncturing a lunge. A lung being stabbed while some is talking isn't a pleasant sound. There's a rushing of garbled air that escapes the mouth. His pleas get quieter and quieter as her stabs get louder and more frequent. Only stopping once the guard stops moving. Something moves in front of us and I can feel the blood thirst spike again.

"O'Connor are you okay?"

Wait I know that voice! We know that voice!

She stands up gripping the knife tightly, that the same purr echoes around me. Excited for more blood...

"Calm down you're hurt, we can get you out!"

No no no no! Stop! We know him! It's Soap! He's a friend! He's our boy!

I try desperately to swim up, I have to gain control. I can't stay here but it's so hard to get out. Why? It's been so easy before to pull myself to the surface and out into control, why has it changed? I can't get to him in time. I watch in horror, trapped in my own mind, as my body moves to kill Soap.

Something large, dark, and strong grapples my body dragging Her away. I see the white skull and panicked blue eye of Ghost. I continue to claw desperately in my own mind. What once was a comfort, a way to keep myself sane and safe, now feels like another prison for me to escape... Because if I don't I may kill my boys.

Ghost gets the knife out of our hand and prevents Her from grabbing his knife attached to the vest he's wearing. I can hear Soap begging for me to calm down and every part of me is screaming the same thing. Ghost is a formidable opponent when sparing but we're evenly matched, though he tends to win a few more rounds. I hope more than anything that today is one of those days that he predicts the winning move right.

She goes to lunge again and Ghost predicts it, dodging to the side before moving to pin our body against the ground. Positioning himself better, he puts me into a headlock before sitting back. He wraps his left leg around and pins our left leg, properly preventing Her from getting any leverage.

"O'Connor please, calm down. It's just me and Johnny, we're not here to hurt you!"

She continues thrashing and growling, I can feel Ghost squeeze harder. I can feel our nails dig into Ghost's arm. At first there was only fabric but then I heard something rip and I could feel flesh. Ghost squeezes harder and the same suffocating feeling overcomes me but this time I truly hope I don't get the chance to resurface. Because I'm not sure I can get back into control in time.

"Calm down O'Connor!"

Slowly the thrashing stops and I can feel myself slipping into unconsciousness. Finally I resurface but I know it's too late so I give into the oblivion of sleep.

I'm floating again, but there's something wrong. This isn't me shielding myself from something happening, this is the familiar in-between of conscious and unconscious. That state where your mind is awake and your body is still out. I focus on what I can remember and panic floods everything, the torturing, my escape, the disconnect getting worse, my feral frenzy, Soap and Ghost. Suddenly the curtain is lifted and I can hear myself screaming.

I'm sitting up, pushed far back against the bed, breathing heavily. I'm in a hospital room not a concrete cell and all the tension and panic is gone. I look to see everyone here, Laswell, Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz and Roach. I feel tears streak down my cheeks as they check in on me and indulge me in a group hug.

Eventually I was discharged and learned I was kidnapped by the Russian ultra nationalist extremist group. They were keeping tabs on Farah hoping to catch Price the next time they interact together... But I was the second best opinion. Farah and Alex visited me in the hospital and explained what happened.

My lieutenant never informed anyone about me going out for a house call despite regulation. It got chaotic and busy very fast. It took Farah going to look for me about two days later to realize I was missing, it was only then that the lieutenant spoke up. Alex manages to track down the young man who lured me away. He learns the young man's sister was being held hostage and that luring me away was the only way she'd be set free.

It took four days to find the prison sight, only for their attempt to break in to fail and gets Alex captured. Farah the entire time was trying to get ahold of someone from the 141, anyone but nothing was going through. By the time Farah managed to get something through Price was already on his way. I feel relief knowing they were looking for me, trying to find me but I feel a bit of resentment towards how long it took. I know logically why it would've taken so long but I can't seem to shake the bitter resentment that has made it's home next to my heart.

Everyone was with me as we had to drive and again I felt myself crying. I hate that I doubted them but that small dark part was whispering that it was a reasonable thing to do. Before we leave the hospital to go back to base, Laswell stops me.

"Maevis, before you return to base I have a massage from Quinn..." There's anxiety in Kate's voice as she hands me a small envelope. "I'm sorry she's had a change of heart. I wanted to tell you before you got to base... You usually try to talk to her and I know you'd likely try..." (My friend no longer wants her OC to be in a lesbian relationship, is okay that happens! Love you Jules)

I spent the ride back to the base thinking; about Quinn, about my most recent experience, about those who've stuck beside me and tried to save me... About the shame and frustration I felt and still feel. There's a whirlwind of a million thoughts and emotions in my head and I can't focus on a single one.

Once back on base Price calls me into his office, we walk together into the room. I sat in front of his desk chair expecting him to sit there, instead he sat in the chair next to me. He had his hands clasped together with his head down causing the shadow from his bucket hat to cover his face.

"John? Wha-"

"I'm sorry it took us so long Maevis... There's no excuse for it. I should have known something was wrong the moment our communication stopped. As soon as you didn't come back from the week deployment I should have pulled everyone back from their ops and looked into it."

"John... You couldn't have known, Farah already told us that their communication was compromised. You also had multiple small operations going that you had to pay attention to. I was the one least likely to be in danger, I had Farah and Alex with me and a full squad dealing with injured civilians. I'm fine now..." I try to keep the tears in but I can feel the warmth of them falling onto my cheeks.

"15 days and 12 hours... You had multiple lacerations, bruising, and rope burns. You were severely starved and was extremely close to death by dehydration. Not to mention the lack of sleep and the cocktail of drugs in your system... You were tortured within an inch of your life and you managed to escape. You don't experience all of that and walk out fine." Price looks at me with that look. The same look he gives he'll give one of the youngsters after a particularly rough day. Thankfully this isn't the first time I've cried in front of Price so I don't feel ashamed or embarrassed.

"That's not the worst part for me though John! I... Sweet Jaesus I thought you'd never come. That you'd left me or that you couldn't find me." Price placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it slightly to comfort me.

"Then Farah's team broke into the wrong cell block and something snapped. I was so confused and hurt... I was angry... I felt... Hopeless like no matter what I was going to die so I at least wanted to die trying to get out of there..." I was struggling to breathe as the words kept tumbling out, I just kept blabbering about everything that happened. Everything came out, I told Price everything that I experienced and how I coped with it.

"I'm sorry Maevis, I'm so sorry..." John pulls me into a long hug after I finish talking. We stayed like that for a while John holding me while I cried into his shoulder. It reminds me of when we were younger, all those rough nights with Will, questioning if I made the right choices. Eventually though I calm down and I leave to debrief some random Superior Officer with everything that happened and what I learned.

An hour and a half of me going into graphic details and some high ranking general asking stupid questions. Once I'm finally dismissed the cantina is closed and I'm not in the mood to go to the rec room so I just walk to my office. I have to replace my bandages anyways. I open my office door to see Gaz sitting in front of my desk. He turns and smiles at me as soon as I close the door.

"You didn't come to dinner and Price told us you had to talk to your COs and answer questions... I noticed you still weren't out of your meeting as the cantina was about to close so I grabbed your dinner..." It was then that I noticed the tray of food on my desk, still warm.

"Thank you Gaz, that's very thoughtful of you." I walk over and sit across from him. We chat for a bit while I eat, he tells me about the mission he and Roach were sent on. It was just some simple recon with plenty of gorgeous views.

"Would you like help with some of your bandages? I know they're difficult to replace alone and I'm already here..." I smile at Gaz before nodding. I'm wearing a tank top with loose pants because of all the bandages and how uncomfortable they are when I wear a turtle neck. Though I have been wearing my hoodie.

It takes a bit and by the time Gaz finishes helping me with my arm and neck it's late into the night. I tell him I can get the rest on my own and that he should go to bed. After Gaz leaves and I finish replacing my bandages I go to bed.

It's been a few days since I've been dismissed from the hospital and put on medical leave. I'm having trouble sleeping consistently so I'm currently out for a late night walk. It was raining earlier today and now it's the perfect weather for a night walk. I'm slowly walking around the outside of the furthest hanger.

I don't see or hear anyone when suddenly there's a figure behind me. I feel myself shunted out of the driver's seat and into that same miasma from before, my vision loses focus and my body reacts before I can even comprehend. I spin and grab the figure shoving them hard against the building. I look to see Roach is who I have pinned.

Roach who has a look of shock and pain written across he face... He has fear in his eyes, he's scared of me. And that realization pulls me back so fast I wonder if I can mental whiplash. I quickly let go of my hold on the boy and step back. Shame floods senses and blurring my vision.

"I- I'm so sorry Roach... I don't know what came over me! Are you okay?" I can hear the fear in my own voice and the tears welling up in my eyes. I try to keep them at bay but they start flowing freely. Because instead of saying or signing anything to me, Roach steps forwards and pulls me into a hug. I cling to him as the tears continue their journey.

"I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to hurt you, to scare you... I don't know why I did that, I've never done that before... I don't know what came over me, I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" It's getting harder and harder to breathe.

"Mom, calm down... Breathe for me yeah?" Roach pulls back a bit and places my hand onto his chest above his heart. I can feel the faintest thumping of his heart and the inhale, exhale of his chest. I unintentionally start breathing in sync with him, calming me down.

"I snuck up on you, you reacted. You didn't hurt me, I was just caught off guard. I wanted to ask if you'd like to walk with me?" I nod not trusting my voice.

We walk together in relative silence, occasionally being broken up by small chats or Ripley barking at Roach to throw her ball. We eventually make our way back into the barracks and split up to go to our different rooms. I'm physically exhausted which helps me shut off my brain a bit and fall asleep easier.

I'm sitting in my office catching up on paperwork when two figures appear in my doorway. I look up to see Ghost and Soap walking in and sitting across from me at my desk. I set aside what I was doing to give the duo my full attention.

"I wanted to say thank you for getting me out of that prison and I'm sorry for attac-"

"Don't apologize Doc" Ghost cuts me off and Soap nods in agreement. Soap stares at me, like he's looking for something before speaking.

"LT said it best, you weren't yourself. Whatever attacked us was running on pure instinct alone... Though that was scary as hell, you were horrifying. I'd say almost as scary as Ghost!" Soap was smiling as Ghost gave the sergeant a slight shove on his shoulder.

"But seriously I don't ever want to be in your sights like that again. You looked ready to tear my head off and play football with it, if Ghost hadn't jumped in when he did." Soap got this far off look before he continued to speak. "I really hope none of us have to see you like that ever again... It felt so wrong to watch you act so ruthless."

" I'm sorry you had to witness that... It scared me too, I didn't feel in control at all. It was like I was locked away in my own head watching my body react without my input... I hated it." Ghost nods his head with this knowing look in his eyes.

"Doc... Roach told me about last night, he told me you had the same look in your eyes..." I look at Ghost and he has a familiar glint in his eyes.

"While I was..." I make a vague gesture. "Anytime it got to be too much I slipped into my head, it was the only place that felt safe." I focused on a spot behind their heads. I felt like I couldn't look at them as I talked about this.

"Eventually I just stayed there, only resurfacing to listen to that bastard talk. But there was something breaking that I couldn't fix... And then the dam broke and I just kept sinking further and further down..." I felt the warmth of fresh tears on my cheeks and I just want to curl into myself.

"Is it fixed? The dam?"

"I don't think so, there's still a leak I can feel it slowly oozing near my heart. It was worse the first few days in the hospital..."

"What will it take for that dam to break again? Will it break again..."

"I don't know honestly... It will... Now that it's broken I don't think I can go back to normal." I look at Ghost and we maintain eye contact, silently acknowledging each other.

"How do we help you when it happens again Doc?"

"Knock me out, after that... I'm not sure... I've been struggling to figure out how to cope with everything. I'm still physically recovering so I can't really do what I'd normally do. I can't workout or go to the range and I can't just throw myself into a mission because I've been sidelined." I rub my temples as I think a bit more before sighing.

"Usually I'd read but I haven't gone into town to buy any new books... Though I suppose I can, now that I'm sidelined for a bit."

"Then that's what you do Doc... Trust me it takes some time to get back to some form of normalcy after something like that. You won't be the same, there's permanent changes from what happened." Ghost has the same sad look in his eyes, every time I look at him since I've woken up in the hospital.

It's not a look of pity, it's a look of understanding. Like he knows exactly what I went through and I know he does. He probably understands better than anyone even me. There's a sense of camaraderie between us now... A camaraderie that neither of us wanted the other to understand, but sadly that's not the case. Instead it's nice to know that there's someone here who can intimately understand the why behind something.

I'm not alone, a sad but comforting fact.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Pairing(s):Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Jacob Black x Witch!OC, Leah Clearwater x Witch!OC

Warnings: last chapter of this series, you have been warned, time jumps, new character introduced, never know how to finish stories 🙃, mentions of smoking, curses, magic user, may be ooc for felix and demetri?, denial of feelings, confessions, imprinting

Words: 4442

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7 Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21  Part 22  Part 23   Part 24  Part 25  Part 26  Part 27  Part 28 Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39

Comical wasn't enough to describe the widening of Felix and Demetri's garnet eyes when they saw the sleeping Irina. They were even more unready for the numbers of the Denali clan, Cullens, and wolves all squished together in the living room. Now it was painfully clear that they were utterly outnumbered with just the two of them present. They lost whatever bit of color their faces possessed.

Especially when the witches naturally clump alongside Dieufel. Felix could taste the zing of their power in the air. It stung his nostrils and caused a fierce burn behind his eyes. Felix and Demetri must have never encountered so many witches before, if any.

Annalisse, Evita's mother, was quite the domineering presence despite the two Volturi members being the oldest in the room. She was unflinching but you got the feeling that she was more so annoyed about leaving her home. And it all seems to be focusing on a nervous-looking Evita.

Turned out that Evita hadn't exactly been telling the truth about her mother being aware of where she was. Evita's grandmother promised she wouldn't tell. After all, Annalisse was the one against Evita going out to avenge her sister's death. Late one night, Evita left home only telling her grandmother where she was going.

Anxiously tugging at the sleeves of her jacket, Evita flicks her gaze down to her shoes. Annalisse puffs out an irritated sigh before turning back to the black-clad figures. They were surrounded. Enemies all around and even waiting outside should they try to escape before coming to an agreement.

To maintain a semblance of authority, Felix curls his lips in a snarl toward her. "Do you know what you're doing here? When Aro-"

"I don't know who this Aro is. Your kind do little to scare me." Annalisse quips back and takes an aggressive step forward. "And you're not in the position to be making threats."

"She's right." Carlisle counters. "Especially when these witches have the ability to incapacitate us. The Volturi will no longer be terrorizing my family. We will continue to uphold our secret around humans, but other than that law, you will no longer govern us. The wolves are our friends and allies."

Demetri hisses and points an accusatory finger at Bella between Nadege and Evita. "We cannot ignore the fact that Miss Swan has gone back on her promise. It was the only reason we let her live."

"She's not just a human anymore." Nadege slyly grins. "She's one of us."

"Even worse." seethes Felix.

"I would never reveal anyone's secret." Bella insists, her voice unwavering and full of complete control. "I'll protect it til the day I die."

"This 'Volturi' doesn't get to police the world. Especially when they are so ignorant of how vast the world is." Annalisse folds her arms in front of her chest.

Eleazar, stepping away from his mate, stares at the two men he had worked with decades prior. "Felix. Demetri. This is not a hill you want to die on."

Appalled at the idea of defeat, Felix turns on Eleazar. "And what do you plan on doing with us if we refuse to take your demands to Aro? Are you really willing to kill us? The others will find out sooner or later. All of you will never be safe if you kill us. No matter how many other misfits you find, the Volturi will always have more members."

"We can rationally discuss this. There need not be casualties, Felix." Carlisle's tone was almost pleading. The good doctor despised violence unless it was absolutely necessary. And for his family, he would do anything to keep them safe.

Felix keeps his stare red against gold. "You know what happens to covens that try to defy us. Regardless, if Aro ends up agreeing to your demands, he'll never forgive you."

That was true.

Not having to read your mind to know you were anxious, you feel the tentative brush of Edward's fingers against your hand. You melt, your fingers weaving between his.

Annalisse's hum turns heads as she squeezes her way to an abandoned corner of the room. "Dieufel, this is your tool kit, yes?"

Still monitoring Irina, Dieufel momentarily lifts his head. "Yes, Señora."

"Evita, come here and help me."

Wordlessly, Evita obeys her mother and follows her to the corner.

Demetri positions himself for an attack. "What is she doing?"

You didn't even know what Annalisse had planned up her sleeve. Witches were unpredictable. The older woman was walking around the living room so nonchalant like she owned the place, humming as she came back to her previous position.

"Nadege, mija, can you get me samples from those two?" Annalisse doesn't even look at them, simply waving her hand in their general direction.

Felix and Demetri start to back up, wanting to get as far away from the witch as possible. They could smell the magic pumping in her very veins instead of blood. For a moment, Felix darts his eyes to the window in contemplation. The closest to the window were Rosalie and Esme. But even from where you stood, you could make out several familiar fuzzy shapes in the front yard. Your pack was waiting for the moment to tear them to shreds.

Seeming to understand Annalisse's intent, Nadege morphs into her hawk form, and with talons ready, she dives at Demetri first. Her talons dig in and rip a generous amount of hair from atop his head, causing the Volturi guard to yowl from the sharp pain blazing across his scalp. He lunges for her bird-form, but she's faster and is already on Felix's path. Emmett and Jasper subdue them so they don't interfere with Annalisse's spellwork. Eleazar, Carmen, Kate, and Tanya close in on them, forming a guard to prevent them from slipping out. They have no other allies but each other and are dramatically outnumbered.

All they could do was watch in frozen horror as Nadege dropped their hair into the older witch's hand.

It's tricky to decipher what ingredients she has in the small stone mortar. With your enhanced smelling capabilities, you can at least make out what smelled like an incredibly hot pepper. Nose wrinkly at the intense scent, you even feel Edward recoil slightly. Of the vampires in the room, while many could resist the stench by merely turning their heads away, some lifted their hands to shield their noses. Felix and Demetri nearly leap at Annalisse when she starts to advance toward them with her concoction in hand. Her free hand, being her left, waves over the top. Her lips were moving, but no words were coming out, yet they produced a reaction from her mortar. The contents hiss as a small trickle of smoke rises. That thin, gray line grows longer and longer until it seems to have a life of its own and strikes out at the Volturi members like a snake.

There's a split in its sleek body as two heads, each spitting vaporous venom that lands on them. More durable than the hardiest of diamonds, the skin starts sizzling where the venom spatters. This affected Demetri the most as he tried to shield Felix from the brunt of the attack. Doing little to protect Felix, even the drops that land on him, have a massive effect.

"WITCH!" Felix howls in anguish as a spray of venom finds a place on his face. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

Even the Denali members that had been standing behind them recoil in ashen dread. Carmen's hand goes up to her neck, and she has an anxious manner about what she is seeing. Tanya and Kate hover over Irina in a protective stance in case Annalisse's magic spreads to their unconscious sister. The power of witches proved to be truly terrifying. Never before had she seen a Volturi member so vulnerable at the hands of a human. Bella watches with morbid curiosity. She could potentially possess this type of power if she studied her craft hard.

"Ego is your venom," explains Annalisse, her eyes hooded as she regards the screaming vampires as they clutch the burns on their body. "Ego will be the Volturi's downfall. This curse will be a reminder of that. Anytime you desire to harm, the venom will rise to your skin and burn. Imagine what a handful of witches can do with this curse toward your coven."

Through his pain, Demetri seethes, "Are you threatening us?"

"No, it's a promise. You do not want to incur a witch's wrath. Nor would your coven. There are thousands of us out there in the world. Perhaps the next human victim you bring will be a witch and you would never even know until it was too late."

That statement alone sends shivers throughout the living room. Everyone was witness to the power that these outward-appearing mortals could have. Even Evita, who still had much to learn, could wield her magic effortlessly.

The smoke snakes dissipate, leaving Demetri and Felix panting for air they did not require. Their faces were gaunt, not used to experiencing such levels of pain. Scorch marks left on their skin from the curse slowly disappear until no sign remains of the wound incurred by Annalisse.

"We don't want any bloodshed." Carlisle quietly reminds them. "But we will fight back to protect our family. Witches and wolves alike."

There's an ominous howl outside, first a lone echo before the others join in. Piercing, primal, and impossibly loud. Behind Esme and Rosalie, the windowpanes tremble not from the wind but from the force of the sound itself.

Palpable hate radiates from Felix's face, his sharp white teeth baring, wanting nothing more than to sink them into Annalisse. They had only one choice but to concede defeat among so many enemies.

Shame fills his motions as Felix hangs his head. "What are we to say to Aro? You know he won't take this news well."

"Tell him whatever you need to to convince him that no action should be taken against us. Whether that be the truth or something else is up to you. But we'll be ready as a whole if Aro decides to exact his wrath." Eleazar stands by Carlisle. Having lived under the Volturi's roof for several decades, they knew what could happen.

Slowly, Felix's gaze shifts around the room. The coven presented to them was a conglomerate of vampires, wolves, and witches. All bearing down on them with unforgiving eyes. They could potentially prove to be the strongest coven in the world. The Volturi would be in big trouble if other vampire covens followed suit.

As Demetri and Felix leave the Cullen estate, your pack follows them until they're assured that both are out of the state of Washington. Waiting for an hour to make sure that they would not attempt re-entry.

You sat on the porch, gazing into the forest, feeling your pack near as they returned to their territory. The sun was slowly descending behind the tops of the trees, casting an orange hue over the sky.

So much anxiety over the past few months that you now find yourself exhausted as you lean your head against the porch's rails. Everything was finally settling in as the world calmed to a quiet lull, except for Annalisse scolding her daughter for all the stress she put her through. Evita takes the verbal abuse like a champ, quietly apologizing for running away. After all was said and done, Annalisse gathered Evita in her arms for a tight embrace. Ultimately, she missed her daughter terribly and didn't want to lose another daughter. You catch Jacob lingering a few feet away from the mother-daughter duo.

Footsteps behind you, you turn your head slightly and smile up at Edward. He takes up the spot next to you. "Do you think he'll tell her?"

"Probably. It might be his last chance to before they head back to Puerto Rico." You muse, enjoying how close he was to you. It felt natural.

Like that was how the two of you have always been.

"And Leah?"

You unintentionally groan. "That's a different story. I think she's still fighting against the imprinting."

His hand tentatively seeks you out again. You smile to yourself and close the distance. Edward grins. "Speaking of. . . we still have our first date to do."

Butterflies flurry in your tummy at the thought; Edward hears the rapid pickup of your heart and chuckles to himself. "Yes!" You squeeze his hand in your's and swear you could see pink dusting his cheeks.

"We will stay the night but go home in the morning." Annalisse huffs, pivoting on her heels to head back inside the Cullen house but stops midstep to smile softly at the scene before her. A vampire and a werewolf. Who would have thought.

They may look odd together, but their smiles are enough to scream out the sheer happiness that the two are experiencing.

Evita tracks her mom's gaze and smiles. "It's odd, isn't it, mama?" She'd become fast friends with the wolf pack and the Cullens and witnessed firsthand the anguish you went through from imprinting on a vampire.

"In a beautiful way." She agrees. Giving the top of her daughter's head a quick kiss, she excuses herself to hesitantly interrupt the happy couple so that she may reenter the house.

Evita watches as you and Edward make room for Annalisse to walk up the front steps and onto the porch. Both returned to their previous sitting arrangement. So close together that their arms were pressed against each other. You're a dark contrast compared to Edward.

When Evita notices Jacob standing nearby, she smiles. "Oh, hello, Jacob."

He towers over her, massive not just in height but muscle, too. Hard to remember that Jacob was still a teenager, much like herself. "Hey. . . You guys leaving?"

"Not until tomorrow. That curse took a lot of energy out of my mom. She's tired and needs rest." Evita hums. "I think we'll all sleep well tonight. Well, except for the vampires since they don't sleep at all."

"Can't say the same about Sam. He'll probably supervise the wards all night and ensure Felix and Demetri don't come back." Jacob felt like he could sleep for a straight month. But he couldn't go home until he told Evita. Sam gave him the green light to reveal the imprinting to her.

Evita has to crane her neck to look at him. "He's a good leader, your Sam."

Was the imprinting that made Evita look so beautiful in the orange filter of the lowering sun? Her freckles appeared perfectly scattered across the bridge of her nose before they fanned out across her cheeks. Even the scars on her face didn't deter from her loveliness. Jacob simply didn't know. Maybe he'd ask you later.

"I imprinted on you." He hurriedly spits out.

Her smile falls a bit out of confusion. "What was that?"

Gulping, Jacob nervously rubs the back of his neck before meeting her eyes again. "I imprinted on you. The first time I saw you in Sam's driveway. . ."

Dark green eyes widen in surprise. "Really?" Imprinting, as she'd learned, was incredibly important to the shapeshifters. She'd seen Sam and Emily and you and Edward. A sacred connection that tied two beings together.

She takes a step back to assess Jacob fully. Jacob stiffens slightly but awaits her reaction. He can't read her face as Evita keeps her expression neutral in thought.

"So. . . we're soulmates?" asks Evita. Taking a quick look over where Edward is now standing on the steps, holding his hand out to you to help you up. You're practically beaming with a love aura when you take his hand and let him pull you to your feet. Eyes of the deepest green return to Jacob's face.

He nods his head shyly. "I'm sorry. . ."

A short laugh is exhaled from her. "Sorry for what?"

"Imprinting on you. You didn't ask for this. You just came here to help us." Jacob knows he's rambling but can't do anything about the fluid stream that continues to run forth. He just has to make sure Evita doesn't hate his guts.

"Hey, it's okay." Her fingers were warm to the touch when she pressed them against his forearm. "You don't have a choice in it. I. . . feel a little honored, actually. It's supposed to be a good thing, right? When you find your imprintee, it means you've found the best person for you and the pack."

He's staring at her with such awe. "I'm not asking for anything more than to get to know you. We can go from there. If that's okay. I mean- if you're even slightly interested in me."

She's laughing again. "It would be stupid of me to pass up such a cute, sweet guy like you."

Jacob felt like he could fly. "Yeah?" He curses the tremble in his voice, which reveals how relieved he was to hear that.

"That is if you don't mind the long-distance thing."

Smiling, Jacob vociferously nods his head. "I can do that."

Sam's cabin was bursting at the seams, a wild party being held as a celebration of sorts. Many were sitting on the cabin's front porch, chatting without worrying about stray vamps invading Forks. Some, like Leah, were gathered around the firepit in Sam's backyard. The kitchen door that led out to the backyard was wide open so others could easily travel about. Leah makes out the figures of Alice, Esme, and Annalisse in the kitchen. Though she couldn't be seen, Leah could hear Carmen's loud laugh.

Around the fire, Bella is shown a quick-fire trick by Nadege and Evita (whom she notices sitting incredibly close to a goofy-looking Jacob). Colored her impressed, Bella wasn't as useless as Leah first assumed. Dare she even observe that Bella's smile was blindingly bright. The younger wolves crowd around Nadege. Still, love-sick pups swoon over her as she completely ignores them. Rosalie and Kate watch and are thoroughly hooked on Nadege's little show.

Leah could even hear Seth's voice, which was far away. He was laughing- a sound she hadn't heard since their father died. Smiling to herself, Leah returns to sipping her soda and focuses on what Nadege will do next.

That is until Dieufel quietly sits next to her. She tenses up, refusing to acknowledge how her entire being reacted to his mere presence.

He's smoking something that she can't quite decipher but it has her nose twitching at the soothing smell.

Dieufel unlatches his lips from the end of his cigarette and exhales a long stream of smoke that reminds her of Annalisse's cursed snakes. "I don't think we've been properly introduced." He calmly says, catching her entirely off guard. "Dieufel."

Her mouth feels uncomfortably dry. "I know."

"And you're Leah Clearwater." Damn, his charming smirk and damn imprinting. Leah's grip becomes tighter on her soda can. It slowly crunched and folded underneath her grasp. She can't look at him. He'd easily see right through her and know her dirty secret.

Remaining silent, Leah chooses to focus on Seth, who is on the other side of Bella; when had he wandered over? He's smiling and says something to the witch-in-training. Bella smiles over her shoulder at the younger Clearwater sibling.

That only seems to make him smile. "I've heard you're a hard one."

"Excuse me?" She abruptly snaps at him. He doesn't react. Simply amused by her.

"That's alright. I'm a patient man."

Her temper gets the best of her as she shoots to her feet, attracting the attention of others. "Just what the hell are you saying?!"

He stares at the others before they avert their gaze. Wise decision. Many had just witnessed hours ago how Dieufel incapacitated a vampire so easily.

A burn flashes across her cheeks as she storms past the backyard's perimeter and into the woods. Anything to get away from the situation before her. Only the sound of footsteps followed after her as she stopped dead in her tracks.

"What do you want from me?" She hisses, a defensive stance squaring her shoulders and preparing her for a fight. The only fight she was really worried about was the one going on inside of her. Every cell screamed at her to get closer to Dieufel, touch him, and inhale his scent.

Dieufel sighs and stomps out his cigarette. "I know about your imprinting. I've known far before arriving in Forks."

A raging blush consumes the entirety of her face as Leah clenches down on her back molars. "This whole time. . . you knew-" She cuts herself off.

He holds up his hands in a calming manner. "I figured you'd talk to me about it after the situation with the Volturi was dealt with. But it seems you plan to ignore it."

"Exactly. What's the point in talking about it anyway? You'll be going back home anyway."

"I don't have to go home anytime soon." Dieufel counters slyly, taking her by surprise. "I can stay here for a little bit longer. Only if you want me to."

"Why would I want you to stay here?" Part of Leah loathes how curt she was being toward him. It was her only sense of defense from what she was feeling. Dieufel was acting far too casually about the whole thing as if he'd accepted that he was her destined mate. "More importantly, why would you want to stay? You should be running back to wherever you're from!"

Walking up to her, Dieufel puts his hands in his pockets and cocks his head to one side. "I'm not scared of what Fate deems my path."

"Fate." Leah derisively snorts. "So you'll let Fate take away your freedom of choosing your partner? You're okay with that? Being tied to a complete stranger for the rest of your life? You have no idea what imprinting really entails, too. The pain that goes into it."

She could feel the sting of tears gathering on her lower lashes. Leah damns them and everything about being a wolf. Mentally, she's brought back to the day when Sam first became a wolf. How exciting it was. Until her cousin Emily came to Forks, everything went up in flames. Leah had lost everything and continued losing everything.

Now, her being a wolf was causing someone else to lose their freedom of choice.

"When I was little, I lived for being in the sky. Nothing was better than the freedom of taking to the air in my bird form. But I looked forward to sleep most of all as it took me to the most beautiful forest. I was still in bird form in those dreams but didn't want to leave the mossy forest floor. I always looked for a small, gray wolf that weaved through the trees." His voice is tender. "I don't think of this as my freedom being taken away from me, Leah. Nothing can do that if I view it as another adventure. I will push forward with this adventure, but only if you are. I won't stay where I'm not wanted. But I would stay for you. To get to know the woman I've been dreaming of since childhood."

Leah's hands are trembling from his words. She'd turned away from him when she felt the tears' betrayal. "You won't like me when you get to know me. There's nothing likable about me."

"I'd beg to differ. Your brother has nothing but good things to say about you. The younger wolves admire you for being strong despite your size. Even Sam-"

"Don't talk about him." Her tone was losing its original venom as she was emotionally tired out.

"Let me decide whether or not I'll like you once I get to know you." Dieufel insists.

"And if you don't? What if I do get attached to you, and then you decide you don't like the person I am? What then?"

"Do you intend to let this worry stop you from taking a risk?" Dieufel counters. "Will you continue to live in fear of the unknown?"

"I'm not afraid."

Goading her on, Dieufel grins. "Then prove it."

Huffing in indignation, Leah throws up her hands. "Fine then. Stay if you want. I don't care." She walks around Dieufel, ignoring how his smirk makes her heart skip a beat.

He follows her back to Sam's house, the atmosphere lighter around the two as Leah grudgingly tolerates his close presence. "I can tell you're going to be fun."

"Shut up."

"As my mate commands."

"Don't call me that! We're not mates yet."

"Yet?"

". . . God, you're annoying."

You and Edward left Sam's fairly early in the night. Walking hand in hand without a real destination.

Winding up at the shores of La Push's beach, the two of you make a cozy spot on the sand. He'd never been on the rez's beach. Being over 100 years old, Edward was still surprised by how many firsts he was experiencing this late in his life. For once, he was excited about his eternal life. Especially experiencing life with you.

There was still worry about the Volturi's wrath, but with everyone banded together, that fear was lessened to something that would be dealt with in the future. Together.

"If I drive, we can make it to Seattle in an hour. I read about a botanical garden that is highly rated." Edward was buzzing with date ideas.

"Ooh, that sounds perfect! They also have an art museum. I've only been there once, when I was little. I've always wanted to go back." You catch Edward staring at you. "W-What?"

Tentatively, he reaches up to caress the side of your cheek that had the scar given to you by the lechuza. You unashamedly lean into it. You weren't expecting Edward to lean forward and place the softest kiss on your lips.

When you gasp, he immediately pulls away. "I'm sorry. I should've asked. We haven't even been on a first date, and here I am-"

"Edward, it's okay. I think we're past any normal dating rules." You giggle, and emboldened by his kiss, you beckon his face back toward you to return the favor. He melts against you.

Nothing could take away this moment from you.

Finally, the song of your heart that Edward fell in love with was no longer a sad melody but one of uplifting joy. Edward vows that he'll keep your heart singing that tune for the rest of his life.

Thank you everyone for sticking around till the end :) I know I could have continued this, drawn it out longer, but i've been working on this for years. I suck at story endings so very sorry if the ending is anticlimatctic. Also sorry for taking forever with the ending of this.

If i get the itch to come back to this story maybe i'll do like a epilogue chapter of something like that.

TAGLIST: @saltedcoffeescotch​  , @dangerouslittlefairy​ , @burn-crash-rqmance​ , @casedoina , @avadakadabra93 , @daryldixonstorm , @blue-aconite​ , @xanniestired666 , @esposadomd​, @godinho11​ , @alexizodd​ , @melaninsugarbaby​ , @lyeatoalinatoheaven , @ronwownsme​ , @itsmytimetoodream​ , @afro-hispwriter​ , @mutandis-extremis993 , @hxgemxscles​ , @nightly-polaris​ , @corrodedcoffin-slut , @ellesalazar​ , @itgetzweird08​ , @crybabyatthediscooffandoms​ , @sassyandclassyx​ , @scarlet2007​ , @theroyalbrownbarbie​ , @jennyamanda8​ , @stevenandmarcslove​ , @biancaindaeyo​ , @loversjoy​ , @turningtoclown​ , @vixorell​ , @xxthackerybinxxx , @daredevilonmyheels​ , @dumbbitch-juicee​ , @southern-bell-give-hell , @nat-the-gemini , @imdoingathingmom​ , @emmettcullenswife , @yoong1c0re , @daddykylokenobi​ , @minjix​ , @magical-spit​ , @krismdavis​ , @arin-swear-rose

[avaritia-ffxiv]

So the story with Sidurgu is that my forever Xaela obsessed ass was shown a single screenshot of him before I'd ever reached Ishgard and gotten access to the DRK stuff myself. Based on that one screenshot I decided DRK would be my ultimate goal with my first character who was my then-main.

Basically I was obsessed with the guy before knowing a single thing about him other than what he looked like and that he was a Dark Knight, which was enough for me to go crazy for him.

But I don't thiiiiiink I was originally thinking about shipping my WoL with him or anything? 'Cause again, I knew nothing about him so I had no way of knowing if there would be any chemistry at all between him and my WoL and I demand chemistry for everything (and I don't remember if I was much thinking about shipping my WoL dude with really anyone? I was of course considering his relationship and dynamics with the NPCs he encountered, but possibly not with anything romantic in mind. Not sure tho).

But thus determined to get to HW and unlock DRK for myself, I went through ARR and its patches, got to Ishgard, rushed to the DRK unlock quest the moment it became available for me.

Pretty fast I realized that my WoL, also a Xaela himself, had... Very good chemistry with Sidurgu. As I played through the DRK quests, my WoL's "I like him" vibes only intensified, and by the time we reached the last HW DRK quest, it was already irreversible. But the actual "oh" moment was before that; sadly it's been a good ass while since I played the DRK quests so I can't remember which quest it was exactly that had my guy going like "okay I'd like to explore a relationship with him". Probably around mid-HW tho, if I had to guess. I vaguely remember there being some dialog Sidurgu had either at the end of a quest or between quests that completely locked the whole deal, though, 'cause he's definitely one of those NPCs that ends up sounding like he like likes the WoL lmfao.

It was kinda slow burn tho, 'cause my mans wasn't the type to rush into anything and I characterize Sidurgu as pretty emotionally constipated, so there was no rushing into anything with them. But yeah, the actual "this shall be pursued" was relatively early on both IC and OOC.

And now they're bfs and co-dads and it's very cute. Too bad I retired Saahe to the point he doesn't even exist as a playable character I have in the game anymore 'cause I fantad him out of existence, but the mens are still very special to me.

Lookie them

fellow wol x npc shippers- If applicable, what was the "oh" moment for you and your oc falling for their love interest? Was yours seperate from your WoL's?

[benevolentvampire]

my mother will see textbook depression and then decide it just pisses her off

[uniiiquehecrt]

Voice actors are NOT the same as actors.

It takes a specific kind of skill-set and training to be able to warp and meld the voice. It takes a certain kind of talent and dedication to hone that talent into the ability to meld the voice and invoke emotion with one's voice alone. Actors are used to using their voice secondarily to their body language and their facial expressions. It's all mirrored back on camera. They do have nuance. But it's a different kind of nuance and a different kind of training to produce that nuance.

Voice actors might get their likeness transposed on their character's design, and maybe their mannerisms might seep into the character's animation. But when it's all said and done: their presence is in their voice. They are bringing a character to life, showing that emotion in their voice, trying to keep a specific accent, drawl, pitch, tone in that voice and keep it consistent for their recording sessions.

The voice actor is like a classically trained musician who can play first chair in a competitive, world-renown orchestra. The actor (who fills the voice actor's role) is like a moot who played violin in beginner and intermediate high school orchestra and thinks they can get into Juilliard with that 2-4 years of experience.

This doesn't mean that the HS orchestra moot can't play. They can even be really good at it. Maybe they won competitions and sat first chair. But they are not in the same league as the person who's been training their whole lives and lives and breathes to hone their craft using the instrument and all of the training they've ever acquired to perfect it. They are not meant for the same roles. They are not in the same caliber. You do not hire the HS equivalent when you want to play complex music in a competitive orchestra.

Actors are not the same as voice actors.

And furthermore, actors - especially big name actors - taking the roles of animated characters for big budget films or TV pilots makes no sense anyways when - at least in the case of TV pilots - there's not a point to hiring a big budget actors anyways. That money could be used elsewhere (like paying your animators), and the talent that is brought onto the screen for X character could then be hired on to voice said character no recasting required.

I wouldn't say voice acting as a profession is in danger exactly, but it's certainly being disrespected and overlooked for celebrity clout, and this has ALWAYS been an issue. Shoot, even Robin Williams knew that much - which is why he tried so hard not to be used as a marketing chess piece for Aladdin and got royally pissed off when it happened anyways. People shouldn't go to any movie (but especially not animated films) because "oh famous actor is in it". People should go because it's a good movie and the voice acting is good.

People who honest to god think that voice actors are replaceable because "oh well anyone can voice act" or "I like xyz celebrity so naturally it'll be good" ... Honestly I just wish you'd reassess your priorities because you're missing the point and are part of the problem.

Voice Actors ≠ Actors.

[fennthetalkingdog]

I'm just figuring out how important music is in my life! This is coming from a long while trying to cut down on my music use, mostly because I was listening to it so much that it felt more like I couldn't do anything without popping in some earbuds, and partially because of other personal reasons. Some of my routines changed, forcing me to not listen to music while doing certain things, and it ended up becoming that besides working on homework or drawing, I didn't listen to music at all. But I've given myself a break today since I have nothing to do and since, for reasons, I'm feeling just a lil crappy today—and boy, I'm starting to realize again just why I love music!!

I love the diverse music taste I've developed over the years! My family is not only big about music but big about listening to it loud, so the majority of my music taste for most of my life has just been Christian hiphop (Lecrae, KB, Andy Mineo, Trip Lee, and ironically Tonex, whose album where he was struggling hard with his gayness has been my favorite concert movie since I was 5) and gospel music (Kirk Franklin, Tye Tribbett, etc.). And music was one of the few connections between me and my race (I grew up feeling pretty estranged from my blackness as a kid, but the popular songs they played at the YMCA in the 2010s were some of the few things I could use to feel more connected) and between me and my classmates/friends at the Y (I still have fond memories of playing FNAF songs in mat forts and reciting lyrics at pool parties). But I got tired of knowing I could never bond with anyone besides family friends music taste-wise when I was in high school, and so I started listening to secular music on my own time. And that's how I first found Ghost and Pals, a vocaloid artist and one of the first secular music folks I listened to as a kid (can you smell the religious trauma yet? Lol), and that's how I bonded with one of my best friends in early college (ironically, also my first time being publically queer). Now I listen to Kpop, anime songs, songs from warriors MAPs, songs from musicals (Hamilton and In the Heights <3), latin songs, metal songs, and even some secular songs young me would've been too scared to listen to.

And music has always been one of my biggest sources of stimming! I can't dance to save my life, but music will sure get me to flick my fingers and hit my fist against my shoulder furiously. Music was one of the first clues that I like stimming with vibration too (since I love laying against the car door and turning up the music loud enough to feel the world shake around me). And music was one of the first things that made me look into ADHD or autism (specifically, listening to Ghost and Pals songs for a month straight and getting my friend at early college [who also has ADHD] to start looking at me funny when I was discovered doing chores and listening to one of three songs for the fifth time). Music is so cool it'll get me to wax poetically. It was one of the things that kept me together during my roughest times and soothed me during my best. I listen to it while I write, while I cry, while I hang out with my friends and family and while I chill by myself. It's how I relax after a long day, and it's how I feel safe. I feel kinda emotional finally having music hit that spot in me without feeling like I need it to do stuff.