#but I know if we resume things again without any changes

[littleletterstoelijah]

By the time we speak again and you still haven't sought God, because I'm constantly trying to seek Him, I'd be so utterly repulsed by your lifestyle and darkened heart that I won't be able to love you romantically anymore so you better seek Him in your own accord.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Bound And Discarded To Be Treasured And Known[*]

Azriel x reader

Day 3 of @acotar-omegaverse-week — All Tied Up: Oh, you’re tied up so you don’t do anything you’ll regret during your heat? Would be a shame if someone… came along and messed up that plan for you :)

a/n: my eyelids are so heavy—most of this is proofread but there are sections I’ll be checking over come morning

Warnings: smut; pussy-eating; technically dubcon since reader’s in heat; overstim?; bdsm themes; cockwarming; knots; soft Dom Az?; fluff; they’re kinda adorable; very light breeding kink; implied incorrect use of a dagger’s hilt

word count: 6,507

——————————————————————————————————————————————

“I could show you, if you’d like…?” 

Pause. 

Steady…

Deep inhale.

Okay, resume. 

Your throat rolls, wetting parched lips with a flick of your tongue as your eyes momentarily drop away from the alpha’s hazel set. There’s nothing inappropriate about what he’s offering, and yet… 

And yet.  

And yet your toes are curling in your boots and there’s molten syrup stirring in the pit of your belly. Any kind of heat is far from normal, living up here in the desolate Illyrian Steppes, and the kind that’s gently simmering within your abdomen is as normal as spotting two suns in the sky.  

“You mean…now?” That’s definitely a hint of breathlessness in your tone. A puff of mist uncurling from your lips and carried away on an icy wind slicing between you. 

Azriel rolls his shoulders carelessly, though you doubt he so much as glances about without intention. Pointed; decisive; certain. Centuries worth of lived experience and warrior training under his belt. Is there space for you to slip in, too? 

“We could meet tomorrow, if that would work better for you?” Hazel eyes rest over your features, his irises set and still. Taking you in like an expert sommelier, savouring his time distinguishing the floral notes from the bitter or sweet undertones. Swishing you around in his glass before tilting the flute upright and letting you flow across his tongue. He clears his throat. “After training, I mean. One requires a flight back up, so I’ll be here anyway.” 

“I’m not sure,” you hedge, teeth clasping at the interior of your lower lip, glancing away from what feels like an all-knowing gaze. “Starting next week I’m going to be pretty busy…”

“Busy?” Something in Azriel’s eyes changes. 

“Right.” You nod. “Baeril is flying North for a week so I’ll be cleaning things up while I have the chance.” But there’s no way he didn’t already know that. It was the General who gave him that task. Also the reason his mood has been so poor lately, given your heat is supposed to… 

You swallow, pushing the thought away. 

“I see.” The alpha before you dips his head once. “Another time, then.” He takes it smoothly, without complaint; you wish Baeril was more like him. If only he could have half the composure Azriel has, things would be significantly better. As it is though Azriel’s head dips slightly, lowering his chin to look properly at you, a smile softening the edges of his mouth. “May I walk you back?” 

You allow yourself to return his smile but it lasts for less than a second, realising where you’re going back to. “Thank you. That would be lovely.” 

“My pleasure.” 

————

There are no lingering touches on the doorstep of your home. No wash of heat where he’d usually wrap you to his chest, nor a last surge of warmth before the cool creeps in and you’re returned to the dim dampness of your house. Instead you give less than a tight smile, and it seems even Azriel’s lips contain ounces of strain as he yields you once again. 

Returning you to your husband’s uncaring grip. 

————

Busy, she had told him. Busy cleaning the house. 

Azriel knows her husband has been sent off to check in on his relatives throughout the inner camps, so by all means she should be going with him. Not that he’s complaining that her husband might be loosening his grip on the treasure that is his wife. Azriel’ll happily swoop in the moment he senses an opening. It’s not like he’s made it this far through hesitating. 

Though it is out of character for her husband to leave her. While there’s little romance between them, there is still possession. So why leave her? 

————

It’s been two days since her husband had initially set off, and three days since he’s last seen her. Ordinarily Azriel would have no cause for concern—there are days when one of them is busier than usual—but this is preciously unregulated time with her husband entirely out of the picture. 

Not that he’d had plans. The closest he’s gotten is a late night a month and a half ago, the sky having fallen to a dusky blue and the air containing the evening scent of woodsmoke. There’d been a celebration amongst the male Illyrians, cause for bonfires and ale and mead, salted meats with rosemary and indulging in crisped potatoes the size of one’s fist. Her husband had been out and both of them had known he wouldn’t be back for while. 

His fingers had found their way to her cheek, pushing at a stray hair, and then her eyes had fluttered shut. Her hands had been clasped before her chest and her chin had lifted ever so slightly. Then his head had dipped but their mouths barely even touched before a stray breeze had her eyes snapping open, a look of peril on her features. She’d taken a step back, and then another, and then she’d been muttering an apology under her breath and turning for her house. 

They haven’t spoken of it since. 

Azriel had thought he might have a chance to bring it up when he saw her next… Is she avoiding him? The thought doesn’t sit well in his gut. Surely she would have no reason to. And yet, as far as he can tell, she would’ve had no reason to pull away the night he almost kissed her. 

Wings shifting once at his back, Azriel steers his course to pass by her house. Evening is swiftly setting in, and if he isn’t quick he’ll miss his chance for the day—even he can’t deny it would be inappropriate to call in after dark, knowing she was on her own, and Azriel doesn’t want to bring any more trouble her way. Light is fading, the temperature steadily dropping with the dwindling of the sun, and the war camp is quiet as it hasn’t yet reached time for the males to sojourn down to an inn for post-dinner chatter. 

Her house is the one at the end of the street, plenty of space kept between builds to allow room for gardens where veg will spring in the summer. There are no lights on that he can see, windows dark and seemingly empty. His brow furrows. Did her husband have a change of heart and bring her along as a last minute decision? Surely he would have known. 

Keeping his pace steady, Azriel sends his shadows far on ahead, letting them curl around the back of the house, peering in dark glass to a darker interior. Empty. Strange. Surely, Azriel would have known if she’d ended up going with him… That’s her dressing robe hanging from the door; all her shoes by the front entrance, tucked between her husbands boots; the fleeced cloak she would take if she really was to travel deeper into the brutal terrain further north. Hair prickles at the nape of his neck. 

Azriel allows his shadows to sweep the area, senses on high alert as he scans for any watchful eyes. When he finds none, he walks to her front door. 

Locked. That’s fine.

Keeping his shadows aware, he calmly walks to the side, finding the large windows that let light into their living room—large enough for him to climb through, once the latch is…perfect. Shadows slip between the wood holding the glass and flip the latch open, pushing the windows ajar. 

No sooner than he’s inside, a thick scent nearly chokes him, so concentrated and sweet he has to cover the lower portion of his face at first. The window clicks shut, and hazel eyes scan the vacant interior of their sitting room. Nothing is out of place, no shattered vases or broken plates, no blood stains on the floor, but that scent. Cautiously, Azriel sniffs once, bringing it into his lungs, filling them up and spreading into his bloodstream. Whatever is producing that smell, he can feel as it courses through his body, pulse kicking up. It’s unusually hot for a house built in Illyria. It should be much more draughty, not toeing the line of sweltering. Where’s all this heat coming from? 

Not hearing any approaching footsteps, Azriel enters further into the enclosure, keeping his shadows ahead of him, patrolling corridors and doorways to keep himself hidden. 

The scent builds, so dense he wonders if he’s even breathing air anymore or whether it’s pure… His tongue shifts in his mouth, throat rolling. His mouth is watering. 

Azriel stiffens. 

An increase in temperature. Prickling skin. Excessive working of salivary glands. Blood rushing with increased fervour. …This strangely sweet scent. Azriel inhales sharply, a faint tremble in his knuckles as he wraps his hand around the bedroom’s door handle. The door opens. 

Azriel’s spine turns rigid…the scent is so much stronger. So strong his head is hurting.

But then his eyes find the bed, and his thoughts eddy away. 

Her wings are bound at her back, rendered immobile and useless; coarse, thick rope has been tied around her wrists, wrapping around her forearms so they’re pulled together at the base of her spine, so tightly snared her shoulders are taut where they’re being wrenched back from her chest; darkened fabric has been tied at the back of her head, biting into her cheeks where it’s been slipped through her mouth, wet with saliva; rope has been wound around her ankles, knees, and thighs, making it impossible for her to move save for light circles of her hips. 

The scent is coming from her. 

She’s gone into heat. 

————

How much longer? How much longer until it’s over? 

You can’t even rub your thighs together from how closely they’re bound, not even an ounce of friction to soothe the aches riddling your body. Your arms have long since turned numb, though the edges of your mouth are rubbed raw and sore. Heat swelters beneath your skin, temples dewy and a thick gleam coats your body where sweat has permeated through the pores of your flesh. 

It’s pure hell. 

Exactly what Baeril had intended when he’d tied you up before departing for the innermost camps set up in the frozen mountains of Illyria. After all, he wouldn’t be able to be with you after the task he’d been assigned with would take up almost all of his time, and if he was going to have to suffer through the absence of sex, then he was going to make it ten-times as torturous for you. No romance, no love; just pure possession. Your pleasure is something of his—something he wouldn’t allow you to have unless it was from him. 

A floorboard creaks behind you, and you whimper into the rag. Is he finally back? 

Your hips wind in a circle, weakly shifting in the bed as you try to do whatever you can to lure him closer, to relieve you of the ties, or at least remove the ones from your legs so he can slide between them. With the angle of your head on the pillow you can’t see him, but you try to lift onto your knees only to find yourself too weak to manage anything more than raising an inch from the mattress. 

The slicing of steel through coarse strands of rope snickers through the room and you find your ankles free, circling your feet as they tingle with feeling. You whine into the rag, squirming desperately beneath your bonds. Your knees part next, and the waves of heat increase the more freedom you’re allowed, the closer you come to being able to move and receive. A rough hand wraps around the top of your thigh, holding you in place as the blade slips beneath the rope, severing the final tie.

With a pained whimper, your legs press together, managing to half-roll onto your side, thighs rubbing against one another to invite more of that delicious heat to gather. A calloused palm wraps around your upper arm, probably to sever the ropes binding your upper body but you shift before he can continue. 

You don’t need any more freedom—you just need him to fuck you. 

————

Azriel’s back teeth might split beneath the tension that’s clenching in his jaw. 

Now her legs are free, she’s managed to work herself into what she deems an ample position: knees pushing into the cushioning of the mattress a little further than shoulder width apart, her spine curving to invite him closer, face pressing deeper into the pillows. He can’t imagine the rope around her wings or arms being anything less than painful, but it seems her heat is taking priority. 

He could instruct her to lie down, to let him cut the ropes on her body, but he doesn’t want to alarm her. She’ll be expecting her husband, not him. What if she doesn’t want him now she’s in heat? Fuck, they haven’t even had their first kiss, and yet he’s on his knees behind her and trying not to think about how perfectly they’re aligned. All he’d need to do is push her dress up, loosen the ties of his leathers, and that would be it. 

The only problem is that it would be unforgivably wrong. 

Her legs are open, her hips circling faintly, needy sounds pouring into that gag, but none of it is for him. He needs to cut her free. 

Gritting his teeth tighter, he leans over her enough to slide the cold steel of the blade between the first three coils of rope, severing them like fabric scissors through silk. No sooner than her arms are freed, her legs have wrapped themselves around his hips, her left shin and foot wrapping around his back so she can haul her right to lock at his back. Muscles flex in her wings as her arms push beneath her, lifting herself up as she squeezes with her legs, aligning his hips with her centre, thighs working to keep them flush tight together. 

Azriel exhales harshly, his palms working to disentangle her legs from his waist but it’s like she’s locked in, having grown impossibly strong in order to gain what she wants. She squeezes him once more, and her grip is tight enough he’s pulled forward, hands slamming down either side of her in the mattress, narrowly avoiding knocking her wings. 

He can hear the whimpers stuck in her throat, the way her body is shifting beneath her own, and he forces himself to get a grip. He has to keep steady. He’s working to help you, not take advantage of you. Shadows curl, and he retains enough control over himself to have the steel blade slicing through the ropes around your wings before pushing himself away, ripping from your grip. 

A pained noise moans from behind the rag, and Azriel watches as she tries to weakly shift upright, her upper arms shaking as pheromones filter through the already thickly sweet air. His mouth opens in preparation to explain, but she’s already turned around on her knees, fingers splayed delicately between the sheets, her pupils dilated and lips parted as they try to work around the gag. 

Both of them freeze when their eyes lock, neither having been prepared for the current situation. 

————

Azriel. 

His name alone provides more comfort and relief than you’ve received in the past week, a cool sweep of lightheadedness coursing through your body. 

It’s Azriel, and everything’s okay. 

You manage to sit back on your knees, hands trying to release the gag from your mouth and you could cry from frustration when your fingers fumble, being unfamiliar with whatever way he’d tied the pieces together. 

Azriel’s throat rolls once. “Here.” He says. “Let me.” 

Your hands fall away, shuffling closer so he can work on the tie. Your chest rises up and down, eyes flitting from his dilated hazel set to the inviting heat of his soft mouth, how good his lips will feel. 

The gag loosens, and Azriel meets your gaze, a deep apology already held on the tip of his tongue. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice thick and heavy, scratching at your ears, “I’ll find you some medicine, just—” 

Your arms lock over his shoulders, flinging your weight into his chest, mouth colliding with his own. Gods, if your eyes were open they would have rolled to the back of your skull, indulging in the heaven of his hair between your fingers, soft and smooth and silky. Clean and taken care of. Need pounds between your legs, pressing your hips tight to his front as your nails scrape up the nape of his neck, scratching just beneath his jaw as your teeth tug on his lower lip, dragging on it sultrily. 

Hazel eyes widen by an almost imperceptible margin, fingers enclosing around your wrists but not yet making any moves. Caught between pulling you away and pushing you into the bed.

“Azriel,” you pant, retracting enough for words to narrowly fit between your mouths. A shudder of pleasure zips up your spine from the taste of his name, a flutter of arousal spasming in your lower belly. “Azriel…” It comes out more high-pitched the second time, more desperate and hoarse. What a state you must be in. How long have you even been lying there? 

You don’t think about it. You just want to taste his name once more. 

But, “Wait,” he instructs, forcing himself to retreat. A noise of pure pain breaks from your chest, nails finding purchase in his well-muscled shoulders, trying to keep him from leaving as you shake your head. “Azriel, please. Please don’t…” You stare up at him, palms gripping onto him in supplication. “Please…” Hot water drips down your cheek, overwhelmed by wild hormones gushing through your bloodstream, making everything too much and so, so, confusing. 

“I just need to find you medicine,” he tries to reason but you can hear the unsteady inhale of breath, the heightened staccato of his pulse. “Then you’ll be thinking clearly again. A little.” 

“Fuck me,” you breathe, ignoring what he’s trying to tell you. “Please.” You push your bodies closer, certain he’ll be able to feel the full press of your breasts to his chest, the inviting softness of your body and… Your mouth opens in a moan when you feel the hard outline of him digging into your lower stomach. That needs to be inside of you. Right now. 

“I can’t,” he whispers, his eyes shining at the hurt you’re clearly experiencing. “I— That would be wrong. Let me find you—”

“There’s none in the house. No one will have any up here. It’ll take hours. Help me.” You don’t know where the reasoning comes from, but maybe the desperation is making your mind work more efficiently to provide a succinct, compelling argument. “You know me. I want you. I wanted you before this. I’ll want you after. Please.” 

“Are you—”

“Yes. Please.” 

His wings have lifted at his back—perhaps he’s not even aware of it himself—looming over the broad set of his shoulders, and you just know you need them to be flared while he’s on top of you. Holding you down in the bed. His weight keeping you pinned. 

Then you’re being forcefully pushed down into the mattress, his mouth atop your own, and heat bursts throughout your body. Your thighs part, legs eager to wrap around his hips, and you—ohh. That’s good. 

A moan spills from your lips when you managed to rub against him, the thick length of him pushing at the delicate part between your legs. “Azriel,” you pant, chest heaving up and down, “Azriel I need you. Now.” 

“Right now?” 

You swirl your hips, knowing it will feel torturous to him but he clearly needs the incentive of arousal to have him acting. “Don’t hold back,” you whisper, grinding up against him, already fantasising about how good he’ll feel inside of you. How full you’ll be. His wingspan alone is promising you pleasure, but he’s also an alpha, so… Your throat rolls, wondering if you might have bitten off more than you can chew. Alphas are notoriously…well off. 

Azriel pulls back as far as you’ll. Let him, looking down at you with colour high on his cheekbones. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he pants. 

“You won’t,” you assure, cupping his jaw, squeezing his hips. His throat rolls, and you want to bite him. Lick and nip and bite. 

“Give me a safe word,” Azriel demands, his voice rough and coarse. “You need to have… So I can be sure.” He’s just as breathless as you are. “Choose one.” 

You say the first word that comes into your head. “Knot.” 

Azriel’s head falls to the crook of your shoulder and neck, groaning audibly beside your ear, his hips lazily grinding against your clothed sex. Hot breath fans your bare skin, and you incline your chin for him to access your throat but his hands are fisted in the sheets, tension lining his powerful body. “Pick a different one,” he grits out. “You’re not having knot as your—”

Your hand has slipped between your bodies, cupping him before palming carefully at the large outline in his leathers. His tension rises, his whole body going rigid before he pulls far enough back to snarl, glaring down at you. Arousal floods between your thighs, squirming beneath the heated look. “Pick a godsdamned safe word or I’m tying you back up and getting that medicine.” 

The ropes had hurt. A lot. 

So why is your skin only growing hotter at the suggestion? 

“Rope,” you manage to get out. It doesn’t make much sense but as far as safe words go, it’ll do. Azriel seems to find it satisfactory, dipping his head once. “Say ‘rope’ if it gets too much then. I’ll stop.” 

“Mhmm.” You nod instantly, whimpering when he pulls back to untie his leathers. The whimpers turn into a moan when shadow crawl up your calves, looping around your knees to keep them spread, carefully pulling away the fabric of your skirts until you’re almost bare. 

Your head tips back into the cushions when the darkness swipes up the centre of your sex, flicking over your clit. They make to curl around the band at your hips but Azriel curses foully under his breath, hazel eyes so dark they’re nearly black as he gazes between your parted thighs. You’d gone into heat the day Baeril had left, cunt practically drooling slick every minute of every hour since then. The sheets are more than soaked, and your underwear is practically suctioned to your sex, strands of arousal webbing between your thighs. 

Azriel groans softly before both his palms are wrapping beneath your knees, allowing their underside to slot between his thumbs and second fingers. Your spine arches, thighs trembling as he buries his face between your legs creating a wild fluttering sensation in your lower belly, hips circling as you rub against whatever friction he’ll provide even if it means soaking his face in the process. If he likes it then you’re fine to adhere. Who are you to refuse pleasure?

The orgasm breaks across your skin with violent force, your breathing stuttering as your spine arcs off the bed, cunt fluttering around nothing as he licks up the wet mess between your thighs. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking tenderly on the sensitive part and you could cry from satisfaction. How relieved you are he innately knows where to touch. Even after the orgasm has finished washing through your body, it feels like only a few litres of pleasure have been released from behind a one-hundred foot tall dam. 

“Azriel,” you pant, tugging at his hair. “More. I need more. Please.”

“So quickly?” He drawls, though it comes out breathless. You squirm, trying to free your legs from his grip, your knees still practically shoved to your chest to make room for him. “You’re being cruel,” you cry, winding your hips, needing him inside. He seems to take pity on you there, releasing your legs to prowl up your torso, taking your dress with him, nearly tearing it clean from your body—you wouldn’t have minded. But now you’re naked and completely exposed save for the underwear at your hips, and Azriel’s looking like he might try and make you cum from licking and playing with your breasts alone. Then again with the aid of your heat, anything’s possible. 

Almost reverently, Azriel thumbs across one of your nipples, watching your reactions with a keenness that has a fire simmering in the pit of your stomach. But, “Azriel…” you whimper. “Not now…” 

Hazel eyes soften, then he’s nodding his head. Swallowing. “I’ll take care of you.” 

Breaths pant between you and your tongue wets your lips when you see his hand wrapped around his cock, the tip holding a bead of precum and your cunt aches as it swells with liquid before drizzling down his tip. You need to taste him. Gods he’s going to feel so good inside of you, and you hold your legs apart to make room for him. 

“You’re going to tell me if you need time, okay?” Azriel instructs, drawing your attention to his eyes. “We can go slower if it’s too much. Take as much time as you need.” 

“Put it inside,” you beg, hips shifting eagerly, ready to take him. “It’ll fit.” Azriel pauses, glancing at you doubtfully, “I’ve barely touched you. If it’s too much you’re taking my fingers instead. I’m not going to hurt you.” But you shake your head, need coursing through your veins, and he’s right there. 

“You wouldn’t have been made that big if you wouldn’t fit me.” 

Azriel groans, but it’s clear he’s struggling. Why is he struggling, he just needs to slide in. It’ll be fine. Why’s he waiting? What’s taking him so long? Why’s he not going in? 

His tip presses to your entrance and you freeze with anticipation. Almost there. 

Scar-roughened fingers lace with your own, gently pinning your hands to the bed as he leans his weight over you. 

He goes slowly as he’d told you he would. Inch by inch. Sliding deeper, and deeper. Air is pushed from your lungs, and even while he’s still you can feel his cock pushing upward against that spot. A few strokes of his thumb over your clit and you’ll be gone. Hazel eyes lock with yours, blinking before his brows raise, glancing lower as his hand slides between you. One. Two…

“Oh.” 

————

Azriel’s breath is trapped in his lungs as she flutters around him.

He hasn’t even moved yet and she’s coming on his cock. 

Her lips are parted and she looks like she’s in heaven right now. 

And she did say to not hold back. 

————

You don’t get a chance to hold onto anything when he draws his hips back and suddenly pushes back in before the aftershocks have even properly faded. 

You don’t have room to moan when he repeats the action but harder. 

You don’t have space for thought when he makes it a regular pace, fingers digging into your hips to angle them up from the bed so his cock can rub against that spot that had you coming so fast before. 

You don’t get a chance to fully acclimatise to the onslaught of pleasure. 

He’s perfect. 

Your hips lift in time to meet his thrusts, winding and bucking to take everything he can give, eager to have him filling you up until he’s making the sheets as wet as you are. Your spine arches as he holds your legs apart, roughly slamming into you over and over, hitting that spot again and again until you’re screaming with pleasure, head tipped back and mouth completely open, being fucked further up the mattress with every snap of his hips. 

“Is that better?” He asks and you’re astounded by the mild tone. He’s currently obliterating your world and yet he sounds completely in control. You manage a nod and he lowers his mouth to the hollow of your throat, halting the sharp thrusts but keeping you tightly pulled to his hips as he licks up the side of your throat. You feel more down-to-earth than you have over the past two days, and you’re approaching the peak of your heat right now. He’s keeping up with you. 

“Sit in my lap for a bit?” 

You hear the question but can manage little more than a series of dazed blinks. Then a vacant nod. 

His lips curve and hazel eyes twinkle, then his powerful arms are sliding beneath your back and hauling you upright, shifting the both of you so his back is against the headboard and you’re straddling his lap. Your knees sink down into the bed and his cock presses against your inner walls. 

“I can see you…you’re inside of me.” Your palm tentatively settles over the bump in your lower belly, shifting your hips faintly over his lap to feel him rub against you. “Az…you…oh.” 

His shadows wrap around your middle, stroking your sides soothingly as they squeeze your abdomen, the pressure having your eyes flutter with pleasure. “You feel so good,” you breathe, lips staying parted on the exhale, a blissed out heaviness to your half-open eyes. “So right, inside.” 

“You’re adorable,” he chuckles breathily into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning ticklishly across the intimate expanse, fangs dragging teasingly along. His lips curve against your throat, and a small, needful hum simmers in your chest. “So perfect.” 

Teeth prod into your lower lip, fingers tangling in the silky strands of his hair. He smells delicious. Clean but distinctly male. Distinctly himself. “You’re perfect,” you argue back, hardly louder than a murmur. You pull back to look at one another, your skin heating with the strange intimacy. 

“Why’d you stop?” You ask, playing with the ends of his hair. Azriel doesn’t avert his gaze, palms spanning the sweep of your hips, thumbs stroking faintly. “Lift up,” he tells you, softer than a whisper; a gently uttered command. You flush at his low cadence, but obey. 

Try to obey. 

You’re stuck. 

Azriel groans softly when you squeeze him, fingers digging into your hips when you try to start riding him, instincts urging you to have him releasing. 

“Az, why-”

“Slow down. It’s okay.” His palm settles atop the crown of your head, stroking gently. “I should have pulled out before it formed. Just wait until it goes away then I promise we can start again.” 

“But I want to take it,” you insist, leaning into his chest. “I want your knot.” His throat rolls but he doesn’t relent. “I don’t regularly take a tonic, pretty thing.”

“That’s fine. I still want it.” 

“You want it now,” he stresses that last part, still remaining steady. You don’t feel like he’s chastising you. “What about when you’re not in heat?” 

“I’ll still want it. Please.” 

Azriel shakes his head, eyes still soft despite their hunger. “When your heat passes we can talk more about…what will happen between us. For now…”

“Us?” You ask, pulse spiking. 

“Is that… Do you not want an us?” 

“I want an us. What about-”

“Please don’t say his name right now.” You flush, tightening around him, shifting in his lap. “Well, what about that? I’m married…” 

“It’s illegal to confine someone in the way he did to you. Especially since I’m assuming he knew you were going into heat?” You nod your head, choosing not to think about what could have happened had Azriel not shown up. A muscle feathers in his jaw before he continues. “Then that’s a kind of torture. More than enough ground for departure.” His throat rolls. “If you…?”

“Are you sure?” 

He stares at you. 

You glance away. “You aren’t-…I mean, this isn’t lust speaking, is it? You’ll mean what you’re saying once you’re done with me?”

“Done with you?” 

“Once my heat is passed…” 

He’s still staring.

“Have I said something wrong?” You ask, once again shifting in his lap. 

Scar-roughened palms cup your cheeks, hazel eyes shining as he pulls you closer. “I’ve been hoping to take you from him for the past three years.” Your heart flutters in your chest, leaning into the solid heat of his chest. “Once your heat is passed, it’s your choice what to do, but know I’d like to be part of it still. In whatever way you might let me.” 

“Are you…”

“I’m serious.” His thumb swipes across the crest of your cheek. “I can tell you this all again once your heat is passed, if that will help. I want to… I want to be with you.” 

You’re too stunned to speak, heart about ready to grow its own set of wings and fly far away. Flutter to the skies and float away on a warm breeze. 

You shift in his lap once more, still able to feel his knot inside of you—not as big as before but definitely still there. Your tongue swipes across your lips. “Emerie…will have something. To prevent pregnancy, I mean.” His throat rolls, and your teeth tug at the interior of your lower lip. “So, as long as I can take that within the next day…” You roll your hips gently over his own, tightening around him as your hands slowly glide up his chest. 

“When I leave to get…a tonic.” He seems to be having a hard time getting through this one. “Will you be okay?” You blink, averting your eyes as you consider. You’d rather he didn’t leave…you don’t want to endure any more of that heat without reprieve, but you so badly want to take his knot. To feel him spill inside of you. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive without that. 

Your eyes catch on a sheath strapped to his thigh. The smooth metal handle of the dagger he’d used to cut you free. Curved and cylindrical. 

You clear your throat, feeling the heat begin to return. “Is that clean?” 

Beneath you Azriel freezes. “…Yes.” 

“And…so…would you mind if I…” 

“No.” He tries to clear his throat. Swallows. “No, it’s fine. You can use it.” His voice strains over that last part. “I’ll clean it again, before leaving you. But yes. You’re more than- I mean, I don’t mind. If it will help you, then please-”

Your lips press to his, and the rigidity begins to thaw. Gently circling your hips, you want to entice him to make you move, to angle and direct you as he pleases. The thought alone of having him guide you has wild butterflies coming alive between your legs.

“Give it to me,” you whisper, nails scratching lightly beneath his jaw. “Let me take it.” Azriel nods, looking up at you as though dazed. His eyes are glazed, lips parted, fingers skimming over your skin. “I want…I want you to use me to get there,” you utter softly, unsure whether to be embarrassed over the admission. When he twitches inside of you, you decide you’re proud of your decision.

“You want me…? To…?”

Teeth prod at your lip, and you nod your head. “I want you… To…”

Azriel swallows thickly but nods nonetheless. “Okay.”

Hands readjust their grip on your hips, fingers spanning up to your waist before he lifts you from his lap—as far as you can go—then sliding you back down. His breathing stutters and you try to vaguely follow his directions, lifting up, then down, using the muscles in your legs to ride him as much as you can.

He’s growing bigger inside of you. Swelling at the base of his cock. Locking you tighter together until it’s impossible to slide much up or down. Instead he inclines your body into him, breasts pressing flush to his chest, your fingers scrambling at the hem of his clothes, encouraging them away so he’s bare.

Powerful arms wrap around your back, minding your wings while keeping you plastered to his front. It feels good, to be held like this during sex. The tenderness is something you hadn’t known was an option, but now he’s so freely offering it to you you’re taking it with both hands, arms wrapping over his shoulders.

A moan is pushed from your chest when he bucks his hips, his arms keeping you strapped to his torso, shadows delicately snaring your forearms to bind them as they’d been when he found you.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, lips tickling the shell of your ear. “It’s good,” you reassure, too caught up in pleasure to really think.

Azriel bites his lip as he holds you upright, letting his shadows roam across your front, his palms playing with your breasts, thumbing across your nipples before trailing back down to your hips. Bucking up into you. Guiding you to rock back and forth, your clit rubbing over his abdomen.

“Azriel…I’m…”

He nods. “Good.”

“But what about you…?”

“I’m nearly there…just keep…” He cuts himself off with a deep groan, one you can feel vibrating through your own body, sending tremors up your thighs.

He twitches twice, then he’s filling you up, knot swollen to its full size so it’s impossible to lift off him, locked together while he empties himself inside. Your lips part with pleasure, another orgasm rolling through your limbs, spreading to your tip toes and fingertips. It’s the most powerful one yet, ecstasy heightened by his own orgasm, feeling as he fills you up so perfectly.

Azriel holds you all the way through it, shadows stroking tenderly up and down over your body, putting soothing touches into your skin before eventually unraveling from your arms, allowing you to reach out for him. Fingers interleaf with your own, squeezing faintly.

It’s different knowing this isn’t temporary. That it’s not just sex. That there is romance, and it’s not just possession.

Maybe it’s more than just romance. He had almost kissed you before you’d run away…

You’ll just have to trust that he’ll keep caring after this immediate heat is passed. That he really does want to take you away, and be with you. And looking at him now…feeling the gentle touch, the light patterns he’s drawing on your skin, waiting patiently for you to signal whether you want more or a break…

You smile, inclining your head until your noses are brushing. Close enough to feel the stutter of air his lashes send your way. “I want you to stay with me. After this is passed.”

Hazel eyes blink, his lips softening at their corners. “I’d wish for nothing more.”

Your toes curl, a fluttery feeling in your heart, and you press a small kiss to his mouth.

His knuckles graze your cheek before cupping you jaw, indulging in the sweet press of you lips.

Perfection.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

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[cherriecove]

Fine Line Between Duty and Oaths (Part 9)

Gwayne Hightower x Targ!Reader

Summary: The second born daughter of King Viserys I Targaryen and Queen Aemma is just as brave, beautiful and stubborn as her older sister but cannot deny her growing love for a certain red haired knight who just so happens to be a dear friend's brother. Cherrie's Note: Hi everyone hope you enjoy, please feel free to give any feedback! Masterlist | Previous Part | Next Part

The days following Rhaenyra's ascension to heir passed slowly, but gradually the weight of grief began to lift. It wasn’t immediate, nor was it complete, but in the small moments shared between sisters, between friends, a sense of healing started to take root. Rhaenyra threw herself into her new duties, determined to prove herself worthy of the crown she had been named to inherit, while you found solace in Gwayne’s steady recovery and the quiet, unwavering support of Alicent.

There were days when the grief still surged—when memories of your mother’s laughter or the scent of her perfume caught you off guard and sent a pang through your heart. But more and more, there were moments of light, moments where you and Rhaenyra could speak of your mother without the ache of loss twisting so fiercely. You would walk the gardens together, talking not of politics or duty, but of memories—of the times your mother had brushed your hair before bed or how she would hum an old Valyrian lullaby to calm your worries.

Alicent, always the steady hand, often joined you on these walks. She was the anchor that kept you grounded when the waves of grief threatened to pull you under. Her presence, quiet but ever supportive, allowed you and Rhaenyra the space to breathe and slowly begin to find joy again.

One afternoon, after a long walk in the godswood with Alicent and Rhaenyra, you returned to the keep, finding your father waiting for you in the royal chambers. King Viserys had grown distant since the funeral, his own grief a heavy shroud, but now he stood with a sombre expression, his gaze soft but filled with regret.

"My daughters," he said quietly, motioning for you both to join him. "I owe you an apology."

Rhaenyra’s eyes flickered with surprise, but she stayed silent, allowing him to continue. You could feel the tension in the air, the weight of unspoken words between you all.

Viserys sighed deeply, running a hand through his thinning hair. "I made choices... choices that cost us all dearly. I wanted a son so badly, I lost sight of what I already had. Your mother... your brother..." His voice faltered, his eyes glossing over with unshed tears. "I’m sorry. You deserved better. She deserved better."

Rhaenyra’s jaw tightened, but her expression softened as she stepped forward. "We miss her every day," she said quietly, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "But we will move forward. For her."

You nodded in agreement, your own heart softening as you watched your father’s remorse play out. There was anger, yes, but now there was also understanding. He hadn’t been malicious; he had been misguided, a man desperate to secure the future of his house. The price had been high, but it was not beyond forgiveness.

Viserys reached out, placing a hand on both of your shoulders. "I know it doesn’t change what has happened, but I will do everything in my power to make things right. You, Rhaenyra, are the future of this kingdom. And you," he turned to you, his eyes softening further, "you deserve happiness and love."

With your father’s apology came a shift in the royal household. There was no longer a cloud of unspoken grief hanging over every interaction, and life within the Red Keep began to regain some semblance of normalcy. The preparations for your wedding resumed, though now with a quieter, more intimate tone. The kingdom still mourned your mother and the infant prince, but it was time to look forward, to embrace the future.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the keep in a golden glow, you found yourself by Gwayne’s bedside. His recovery had been slow, but he was much stronger now, able to walk the corridors of the keep, though with a slight limp. He was seated in the window alcove, staring out at the sunset when you approached.

"Gwayne," you began softly, sitting beside him. "I’ve been thinking about our wedding."

His blue eyes flickered to yours, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You’ve changed your mind about marrying me, have you?" he teased, though there was a warmth behind his words.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "No, I haven’t. In fact, I was wondering if... we could incorporate Targaryen traditions into the ceremony. I know you follow the Faith of the Seven, and I respect that, but... it would mean so much to me, to honour my ancestors in that way."

Gwayne’s smile softened as he reached for your hand, his fingers warm against yours. "I would marry you in whatever tradition you chose, even if it involved dragons and fire. Your family’s heritage is important to you, and if that’s how you want to be wed, then so be it."

His words brought a sense of relief, and your heart swelled with gratitude. "Thank you, Gwayne. I promise we’ll honour both traditions, but I wanted... I wanted to feel close to my mother. To the roots of my house."

Gwayne nodded, his expression tender as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Then we’ll have the ceremony you wish for. I’m not afraid of a few dragons."

You smiled at that, the weight of the past few months slowly easing as you found solace in Gwayne’s unwavering support. Together, you could blend your two worlds—Targaryen fire and Hightower faith—into something beautiful.

As the wedding preparations unfolded, there was a sense of renewal in the air. Though the past still lingered, there was joy to be found in the future. You and Gwayne spent more time together, his recovery a constant reminder of the resilience you both shared. His teasing humour returned in full force, and you often found yourselves stealing moments of laughter and light amidst the planning.

Rhaenyra, too, seemed to find her own path forward. Though her grief for your mother would never fully fade, she had taken to her role as heir with grace and strength, her bond with you, and with Alicent, stronger than ever. The three of you often spent evenings together, sharing stories, memories, and hopes for the future.

Your father’s apology had been the first step in mending the fractures that grief had caused. Now, with the marriage on the horizon, it felt as though the kingdom, and your family, were on the cusp of something new. You were moving forward, together, united by love, loss, and the promise of what was yet to come.

In the weeks leading up to the wedding, the atmosphere within the Red Keep grew lighter, though not without tension. The grief that had weighed so heavily on your family had begun to ease, replaced by the anticipation of your upcoming marriage. There was still an ache in your heart for your mother and the little brother who would never grow up, but the future now held the promise of new beginnings.

Preparations for the wedding were in full swing, and you spent many of your days with Gwayne, discussing the details, the guest lists, and, of course, the matter of the ceremony itself. The Targaryen traditions were ancient, woven with fire and blood, and they meant everything to you. When you’d asked Gwayne if he’d be open to incorporating those traditions into your wedding, his immediate acceptance had been a balm to your soul. But not everyone was as agreeable.

One afternoon, you found yourself in the council chambers with your father, King Viserys, and Otto Hightower, Gwayne’s father. The discussion had turned to the wedding plans, and as soon as the subject of a traditional Targaryen ceremony was raised, Otto’s brow furrowed in disapproval.

"Your Grace," Otto began carefully, his tone measured but firm. "I understand the importance of honouring your House’s traditions, but Gwayne is of the Faith of the Seven. It would be... unorthodox for him to partake in such rituals, especially the more pagan elements. A wedding under the eyes of the Seven would be more fitting, more appropriate for someone of his station."

You could see the way Otto’s gaze flickered, the carefully hidden discontent barely concealed. He was a man of order, of rules, and the thought of his son partaking in Targaryen rites, especially one involving the ancient Valyrian customs, was something he clearly found distasteful.

Before you could respond, your father spoke, his voice calm but firm. "My daughter’s wedding will honour both traditions, Ser Otto," Viserys said, glancing briefly at you with a soft smile. "She is of House Targaryen, and it is only right that we incorporate our customs, especially given all she has endured. Gwayne has already agreed to this. I see no issue with blending the Faith of the Seven with the traditions of Old Valyria."

Otto’s lips tightened, but he nodded, bowing his head slightly. "Of course, Your Grace. I merely wish for the union to be blessed by the Seven, as befits my house."

Viserys looked at Otto with a mild but commanding expression. "And it will be. But we will also honour the legacy of the Targaryens. I trust your son will not object."

Otto had little choice but to concede, though it was clear from the look in his eyes that he was not pleased. You left the meeting feeling lighter, grateful for your father’s support. For all his faults, Viserys had always loved you deeply, and in this, he had sided with you.

Later that evening, you found Gwayne in his chambers, sitting by the hearth with a book in his hands. He looked up as you entered, smiling warmly as he set the book aside.

"Another battle won for you, my princess?" he teased, his eyes twinkling.

"Indeed," you laughed, crossing the room to sit beside him. "Your father wasn’t pleased, but mine overruled him. We’ll have our Targaryen ceremony after all."

Gwayne chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I’m not surprised. My father has always been a stickler for tradition. But as I said before, I’m not afraid of a few dragons."

You grinned, leaning into him. "Well, I have something important to teach you, then. If we’re going to have a proper Targaryen wedding, you’ll need to learn a few Valyrian phrases. Specifically, the vows."

Gwayne’s eyebrows shot up, a playful glint in his eyes. "Valyrian vows? You know I’ve only just managed to grasp a few words of your language."

"That’s why we’ll practice," you said with a grin, pulling a small parchment from your sleeve. You handed it to him, watching as he unfolded it to reveal the words written in High Valyrian.

He squinted at the letters, his lips moving as he tried to pronounce the words. "Nyke īlot... rūvēbagon..."

You giggled, covering your mouth. "Close, but not quite. It’s ‘Nyke īlot rūvēbagon ao, issa jorrāelagon,’ which means ‘I bind myself to you, my love.’"

Gwayne glanced at you, his expression a mix of amusement and determination. "I see. So, all I need to do is say these words without tripping over my tongue, and I’ll officially be a dragon-rider?"

You laughed again, the sound light and joyful. "Something like that."

For the next few days, you and Gwayne spent your evenings practicing the Valyrian vows, his efforts both earnest and endearing. There were many moments where he stumbled over the unfamiliar words, his brows furrowed in concentration, only to break into laughter when he mangled a particularly tricky phrase. And then there were the moments where his voice softened, his gaze steady on yours as he recited the words with growing confidence.

"Nyke rūvēbagon ao... issa jorrāelagon," he murmured one evening, his voice low and full of meaning.

Your heart swelled at his sincerity, and you smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. "You’re getting better every day."

Gwayne grinned, pulling you closer. "I have a good teacher."

As the wedding day approached, the excitement grew within the Red Keep. The blending of two ancient traditions—Targaryen and Hightower—was a delicate balance, but one that symbolised the union of your two houses. The Faith of the Seven would be honoured, but the heart of the ceremony would be steeped in the rites of Old Valyria, something that brought you closer to your heritage, to your mother, and to the legacy of your ancestors.

Though Otto’s disapproval lingered in the background, the knowledge that your father had supported your wishes gave you strength. And with Gwayne’s dedication to learning the Valyrian vows, you felt more connected to him than ever. There was something deeply intimate about sharing the language of your ancestors with the man who would soon become your husband. It was a part of yourself you had never truly shared before, and Gwayne embraced it fully.

The days of grief and mourning, though still present in the shadows, had given way to a new sense of hope and joy. And as the day of the wedding drew near, you knew that this union—blending fire and faith—would be the start of something truly remarkable.

[dyns33]

Flufftober 2024 - 24 Dream of the Endless

It was perfectly natural for mortals to dream that they were someone else. That was also the purpose of dreams, to allow beings to escape from the "real" world for a moment, to forget their sorrows, their worries, but also to find the inspiration needed to try to improve their daily lives when they woke up.

This was embodied by great decisions, as well as wonderful creations, novels, films, songs, plays. Once again, men played roles, to entertain others while conveying an important message.

Despite this, Morpheus did not fully understand the principle of Halloween.

He could not make sense of this celebration, which had changed a lot over the centuries.

No one seemed to learn a moral lesson by dressing up as a monster. No one wanted to become a monster. There was nothing fun in comparing yourself to these poor creatures, or in scaring children without the goal of teaching them something.

Next to him, Y/N didn't seem to understand his incomprehension.

"It's just for fun. I know you're very serious and goth, but unlike some of your siblings, I'm sure you know the definition of that word."

"It seems like there are several definitions, otherwise I would laugh at Desire and Despair's pranks."

"That's different, their pranks are cruel. But don't you see what's funny about Halloween at all ?"

"Not really."

Knowing his stubborn side, Y/N didn't insist, simply shrugging her shoulders. She wouldn't have been against celebrating it with him, but it didn't matter if they didn't do anything that night. In any case, the king of dreams was too busy for this kind of thing. It was already a miracle that he found time for her in his schedule.

She should have been wary, because it wasn't normal for Dream to give up on a debate so easily. Not only did he have the right not to understand, but Y/N had to agree with him.

The nightmare didn't last long. Y/N wondered if she had screamed as loudly in her bed as in her dream she found herself facing this huge, dark monster trying to catch her. She had never been so scared in her entire life.

"Happy Halloween." the thing said, grabbing her in its hand.

"… Morpheus ?!"

"Yes. I still don't see the funny side. Can you explain it to me ?"

"… It's not funny ! Put me down and take back your normal form !"

"My 'normal' form as you say cannot be understood by mere mortals, what you see is just…"

"You know very well what I meant !"

Dream put her back on the ground and resumed his usual appearance, with his little pout. He was still waiting for an answer though.

After all, he had dressed up as a monster, and he had made a sort of farce at her, exactly as Halloween tradition required. It was obvious that Y/N had not wanted to laugh.

"There is a huge difference between dressing up and literally turning into a monster. People know that it is fake, that there is no risk, that is why it is funny."

"We are in a dream, and I will never hurt you. There was no risk."

"Dream…" Y/N sighed as she approached to caress his shoulders. "What if you came to the waking world so I could show you ? Hmm ?"

"… As long as I am with you, it will definitely be fun."

Next to Y/N who was wearing her best bunny costume, Morpheus continued to claim that he didn't really understand the point in seeing children running around in the street and adults playing pranks on each other.

But he smiled the whole time, never letting go of her hand, so he must have had a good time. And he seemed to enjoy her costume too, even if he showed it more with his hands than with words later.

[god-has-entered-my-body]

What time you coming out? - M.H x Reader // pt.1

A/N: Lenas writer debut??? Omg??? This has a bunch of references to fics like the cellophane house (written by the lovely @vinylandcoffeecollection, srsly check out their work!). It's a bit angsty? Not really but angst will come this is a chaptered fic. Based off fallingforyou, hence the title. Thank you @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff for beta reading and putting up with me xx

wc: 11k

part two

February, 2008

“I'm not sure we should be doing this, neither of us is a professional hairdresser in any capacity” 

Mötley Crüe’s ‘Public Enemy #1’ blares through the small speaker set on top of the toilet lid, the music reverberating off the bathroom's tiled walls. Matty attempts to brush the bleach onto your hair, narrowly missing your eyebrow for what felt like the sixth time. You'd prefer to not come out of this situation looking like 90s madonna if you could help it. 

“Could you maybe not get the stuff on my face? I'm not sure I'd look as amazing as I do with bleached brows,” you say, flicking Mattys hand away from your hair, straightening your posture on top of the sink. Your elbow accidently knocks into the faucet and you curse out loud. 

“You're right love, you'd look well hideous without brows” Matty retorts, laughing in your face. He's right, doesn't mean he has to say it.

“At least I have any sort of eyebrows, I'd get yours filled in if I was you.” Now it's your turn to laugh at him, his jaw hitting the floor at your comment. He clutches his chest with his hand, bending over for dramatic effect as if to say: “You wound me”. You fall into each other's arms, fighting over the ipod once again.

The song changes, and Matty resumes his attempts at bleaching your hair properly, failing once again. It had been a stupid, stoned impulse decision to buy the bleach at all. The local drugstore sold it for cheap, and you had some pocket change on you. Matty wanted you to buy the red dye, and you dismissed him immediately, because even he knew you'd look absolutely terrible as a redhead. 

You hum along softly to David Bowie's “Suffragette City”. Bowie was your Idol. The song reminds you of him. Of Matty. It reminds you of when you first met.

—------------------------------------------------------

You were 15, pacing the street late at night, your boyfriend was blowing up your phone. Insincere apologies and “i love you”’s filled your screen. 4 missed calls. Tears were streaming down your face, making you not quite able to see straight. 

The song playing, was blaring in your headphones, almost deafening. The song didn't fit at all to your current situation, but that didn't bother you.

It wasn't long before you reached a bus stop, sitting down. You didn't even know where you were. 

Suddenly, like it was out of your control, you let out broken sobs, no longer silently crying. How fucking embarrassing.

You're not sure how long you’d been sitting there, in the dark, shivering in the cruel November weather. 

You hadn't even noticed the person walking up to you. 

He’d positioned himself in front of you, twisting his neck to get a look underneath your hood.

“You alright?” his voice sounded soft, concerned even. Through muffled sobs, you managed to look up at him. 

He had a thick, fluffy jacket on. Oddly feminine for bloke, and you were pretty sure it was a women's coat. It basically swallowed him whole. You almost laughed at the sight. It almost made you forget about the night's events. 

You’d had yet another fight with your boyfriend, Phillip. The two of you fought a lot, but never like this. Sure, he’d said some hurtful things, things you maybe shouldn't have forgiven as quickly as you did, but he had never, ever, gotten violent with you. Until tonight.

You'd barely registered it when it happened, your brain not properly processing his actions. In the midst of his screaming, he raised his hand. Raised. his. hand. 

It came down with a crash against your left cheek, the sound echoing through the house. Because he did, in fact, have his own flat. Because 24 year olds usually have that. 

Everything hit you at once. You'd managed to pick yourself up off the ground at a speed which would have given even world record holders a run for their money. You didn't bother grabbing anything else, you just needed to get out, now. 

You could faintly hear his voice calling out from behind you, begging you to please, please come back. And what? Let him put his hands on you again? No way. A rare moment of clarity.

Fucking cunt 

You’re brought back to reality by the sound of the stranger's voice. 

“I’m Matty.” he offered his hand, and you shook it. “What're you doing out here in the cold? Its fuckin’ freezing.” He's right, it was cold. It hadn't occurred to you to take your coat with you.

You stuttered out a pathetic response of your name, barely making eye contact with him. A few beats pass before Matty starts ruffling around in his coat pockets. Raising your eyebrows, you watch him.

You can hear the faint sound of keys in his right pocket, and it's not long before he pulls out a joint from his left. It looks crumpled and old, like it had been there for a while. 

“Spliff? It looks like you need it more than me.” He chuckles, and it somehow makes you feel better. He makes a move to sit next to you, and you twitch slightly when his shoulder touches yours. The bench is quite narrow, so you know it's not on purpose. It doesn't bother you quite as much as it should, given he is a stranger. 

He takes out his lighter. It looks old and used, the black plastic chipping off around the top. It looks like it's a miracle it even works. You can see white writing along the side of it. M.H. Initials? His initials? Matty H something.  

He starts burning the tip. Rotating the joint to get an even burn, you watch his movements closely, taking in some of his features. 

His hair was curly but frizzy, you could tell he didn't pay it much mind. His features seemed soft, almost feminine. He was clean shaven, his pale skin a stark contrast to the dark brown of his hair. 

Matty lets you take the first drag, stating “The first hit’s the best, and I've always been a gentleman”, flashing a grin your way. That made you laugh. You take a drag, letting the warm feeling spread through your body.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked timidly, his voice lowering. 

“Absolutely not.” You mutter, looking him straight in the eyes for what seems like the first time that night. A smile.  

—-------------------------------------------------------

“D’you think I'd look good as a blonde? I feel like I'd smash it,” Matty says, inspecting his hair in the mirror behind you. He has gorgeous locks, and you're constantly telling him to try and take care of them, he just doesn't listen. You study his features before giving him an answer.

“Maybe. Either that or you'd look like a bad hooker,” Matty gasps, shoving your shoulder in protest. The movement  makes your elbow bang against the faucet again, but you ignore the pain this time 

“I'll let you know i'd make an amazing hooker, thanks very much,” He proclaims quite loudly, making the both of you burst into a laughing fit. 

You take the brush from Matty, twirling in your hand. George had taught you how to do that. An idea pops into your head. 

“We could give you a few blonde highlights, just to try it out. There's no need for you to go full Elle Woods immediately” A giggle escapes your lips, picturing Matty with long, blonde hair. That’d be a sight. 

“Let's do it, right now,” he breathes, visibly excited.

“Really? Adam’d take the absolute piss out of you, you know.” Matty rolls his eyes obnoxiously before he speaks. “Well then let Adam hold on to his toxic ideas of masculinity, I need a change.” This piques your interest. Matty? Need a change? Weird. 

“What, did some bird break your heart this time? That's new, even for you Matthew,”

You can see him visibly cringe at your use of his full name. You know he hates it, and that is exactly why you do it. Getting a rise out of him is your favorite pastime. 

“Switch with me then,” you say, and he obliges, letting you hop off the counter. You mix up a new batch of bleach and part off his hair into small sections. Little pink hair bands hold his curls in place. You shoot him a look and he nods, giving you the go-ahead. The bleach goes on smoothly, your practiced hand much less prone to mistakes than Mattys.

It doesn't take long before you're both sitting on your bed with foils in your hair. You manage to snap a picture of Matty on your polaroid camera. The light reflects off the foils, distorting the picture slightly. Matty demands to see it, but you decide to keep it for yourself. Can't get everything you want.  

It's Mattys' turn on the music. 

You've decided on a turn system for music when you're together, to avoid the gnarly fights you used to have over who gets to control the ipod.

He picks the latest Deftones album. It's not really your taste, and you tell him as much. 

“S’not my fault your music taste consists of pop trash. Get well soon”, now it's your turn to shove him, and he almost falls off the bed. Your fights over music happened frequently. He insisted on listening to real music, while you couldn't care less if it sounded good. 

The timer dings and you both get up to wash your hair in the sink. Water splashes everywhere, absolutely soaking the bathroom. You don't care. It's just water. 

Towels litter the bathroom floor, soaking up the mess. Matty helps you dry your hair after you promise to help with his. The warm air feels nice on your neck. 

“I like it, it makes me look camp,” Matty states, admiring himself in the mirror. Of course he'd say something like that. 

“You look great, now get dressed, I've messaged Hann. He's picking us up at half 11” 

Adam was one of your best mates, and the only one who had a car. You and Matty were still in school, along with George, another one of your friends. Adam and Ross shared a flat on the outskirts of the city. Adam's mother had gifted him a car for his 18th birthday last year. A bright red Kia. Bumper stickers littered the back, your favorite reading ‘Vehicle of legends” 

Matty had borrowed one of your tops, specifically, a mesh top you'd gotten from Hollister a few weeks prior. It was adorned with a black tank top underneath, paired with the black skinny jeans you're convinced have fused with his legs at this point. 

His hair had dried, dark curls now in contrast with blonde streaks. They framed his face. He looked good. 

You’d gone for a more colorful ensemble, opting for baggy jeans instead of skinny ones. The bottom had already been well ripped up from years of dragging them on the ground. You paired said jeans with a wine-red off the shoulder jumper, the black strap of your bralette peaking out. You’d always loved that color. It reminded you of your favorite flowers, red roses.

The window closed softly, and you silently thanked God you lived on the first floor. Adam was already parked down the road from your house, impatiently waiting for the two of you. The radio was playing as you got in. Matty immediately started going on about how pop music has ruined the music scene and how it was all 'soulless, meaningless droning' and 'had no feeling anymore'. He always did this, and you'd learned to tune it out by then. 

The drive was short, and you arrived at your destination not long after you’d set off. The air smelled like water and wet pavement. It had been pissing down earlier in the day.  

‘The spot’ was an abandoned paper factory, affectionately renamed “Caroline's house” for any eavesdropping parents.  

Carolines had been abandoned for well over 5 years before you started hanging out there, not many knew about it.

The three of you had already made your way through the back entrance. The front had been blocked off years ago, a futile attempt at keeping kids out. There was one specific room you always went to, and that was the office. It had a huge terrace with an amazing view of the city below. The glowing lights made you feel small and irrelevant in the vastness of the world. 

The night was bright under the full moon, making it easy to see outside. Adam always brought an emergency flashlight with him when you went to Carolines. He was the voice of reason in the midst of the chaos. The responsible one. He always made sure everyone got home safe, talked your way out of situations with coppers on multiple occasions, and knew when to tell the bartender to switch drinks to water or juice. You’d always thank him the morning after. 

“What even is your shirt, mate,” Adam asked with a grin on his face. He loved to take the piss out of Matty for his camp-ness. No harm no foul, Matty would do the exact same to him when the opportunity presented itself. Eyeing him up and down, he shook his head and went back to picking at his nails.   

“She let me borrow it for tonight. Looks good, yeah?” Matty shoots back. 

“Yeah sure, that and those white streaks in your hair make you look like a proper girl, you know” 

You have to laugh at his statement, because it does ring true. From a certain distance, anyone could mistake Matty for a woman. 

“You wish I was a girl, it’d make you feel less guilty about your sex fantasies, innit?” Matty cackles at his own words. Adam chucks a lighter at him, and misses. It instead bounces off the railing of the terrace and clatters down onto the ground somewhere behind you. 

That was your cue to take out the small baggy from the pocket of your jeans. Going to look for the lighter Adam had just thrown, you turn around to see he’d already snatched your papes and weed, and started to roll a spliff. 

“Oh come on, I look away for a second and you steal my weed. What, are you too broke to buy your own?” You huffed, sitting down on the floor next to him. 

“Girls don't roll their own spliffs. You should know that by now, love” he said with a wink. 

Cue eye roll. 

“Oh thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Hann? Fuck off.” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. This was never a display of chivalry, it was simply Adams' way of trying to get under your skin. Your stubborn self wouldn't let him, of course. Flashing him an award winning smile, you lay back on your elbows and eye him as he rolls your joint for you. 

Matty was preoccupied with gathering enough cardboard so he could sit on the floor comfortably. The three of you couldn't be arsed bringing in furniture from the office, so you were left with the cold, unforgiving concrete floor of the terrace to sit on. 

The minutes ticked by and Adam took his sweet time, presenting the spliff with a look of pride. You reach for it, seeing as you already had the lighter in your hand. Instead of handing it to you. Adam shakes his head. 

“Girls dont light their own spliffs, either” You scoff at that, though deciding against smacking him upside the head. You hand him the lighter.  

Mattys giggles can be faintly heard over your bickering, and Adam finally lights up. The distinct earthy smell fills up the air around you. They both let you have the first drag, stating something along the lines of “Ladies first” another eye roll.  

“Fucking wankers”, you mutter under your breath, and finally, you inhale. It hits you almost immediately, a soft, fuzzy feeling that reverberates through your veins into every inch of your body. The two of them let out a laugh at your expression, utterly euphoric. 

Adam takes the next drag, hitting him just as hard as it did you. He leans against the glass sliding door, letting his eyes droop closed. 

“Fucking hell, this is some strong weed.” He lets out a rough cough, “Where’d you even get it from?” 

“Oh y’know, just some guy. Same as always I s’pose,” 

Matty spoke “What, d’you shag him or something? No one just gives out this type of premium stuff on a whim,” 

This makes you chuck the grinder at him. It hits him square in the chest. You hum contentedly, grinning at him in amusement when he doubles over in pain. You bicker back and forth, calling each other names. Adam passes the spliff back to you, and you take another hit. 

Time passes slowly. The clouds slowly reveal more and more of the full moon. It is quite beautiful tonight, you notice. 

Adam produces a bottle of tequila from his ‘gay-ass tote bag’ as Ross calls it. You take turns taking swigs straight from the bottle, Matty managing to spill some onto his mesh top, making quite literally everything reek of alcohol.

You felt good. The high mixed with the healthy amount of tequila made you feel like you were floating. You could tell Matty was just as hammered as you, seeing as he was now straddling Adams lap, trying to kiss him. 

After multiple attempts at getting him off, Matty stood up on his own, stating that he didn't want Hann to pop a boner au cause de his womanly features.   

The three of you laugh and laugh until you finish the spliff. You’d never had a good tolerance for anything, whether it be weed or alcohol. You weren't particularly small, it just always hit you way harder than Adam or Ross. Even Matty managed to pull himself together when the situation called for it. You, however, were stumbling and tripping over your feet the entire walk home. It had been pissing down the entire morning. Puddles littered the streets, not an ideal weather for someone who was too wasted to even have any sort of depth perception.  

Adam had to leave suddenly, picking up a last minute shift at the shop he worked at. It was in the opposite direction of where you came from, leaving you and Matty to walk home. 

It wasn't a long walk, 30 odd minutes or so. It was made significantly longer by your inability to walk in a straight line to save your life. Echoing laughs filled the streets as Matty helped you trudge along. Your pants dragged on the floor as usual, which meant they were also dragging through the numerous puddles, soaking them. 

You stop suddenly, looking down and pouting at the darkened material of your pants. For some inexplicable reason, this made you stomp your feet like a child. Matty broke out in uncontrollable laughter, tears forming in his eyes. You were actually acting like a child.

“I don't know why you insist on wearing those insanely baggy pants. Look at me! My pants don't get wet AND my ass looks phenomenal in skinny jeans” He twirls around you, making you feel slightly dizzy.

“Oh fuck off!! Not everyone is an attention slag like you, have some decency for once in your life!” You retort, shoving him out of your line of sight. Due to your state, Matty quickly catches up to you. 

The steps of your house come quicker than expected. Both of you make your way to the east side of the first floor, where your bedroom window remains slightly ajar. You'd wedged an old shirt between it to keep it from closing all the way. You'd gotten sneaking out down to an art, always knowing when, where and how. Your mother had caught you once. It was your first time. You knew not to make those same mistakes again.

Matty helped you hop onto the windows ledge, his hands grabbing at your sides. While he looked frail, Matty was actually quite strong, lifting you up without breaking a sweat. 

You're sitting on the edge, slightly taller than him now. Peering down, you reach your arms out. The two of you hugged tightly, whispering quiet “goodnight”s and “sleep well”s. Saying goodbye after a night out often felt strangely melancholic, you never wanted the other to leave. 

You've been attached at the hip since that night. He’d convinced you to break up with Phillip, stating he was a bastard who shouldn't be allowed near women ever again.

Matty went on to introduce you to his mates after you’d found out you went to the same highschool. That was nearly 3 years ago now. 

Late nights often make you wonder what would have happened if you hadn't gone to that specific bus stop and met Matty. If he had ignored your crying instead of offering you weed and sitting down next to you. He’d always been charming, like a magnet, he attracted everyone around him. Sure, he was a bit pretentious at times, but everyone has their faults. 

You roll over and try to sleep, slowly coming down from your high. You made a mental note to take it easy next time, maybe pace yourself. It was hard to know your limits when it came to substances, and Matty was the same way. Adam was the ever responsible one, never too drunk or high, always the parent. You were grateful for him, knowing what situations you'd be stuck in if Adam had not been there to smooth things over. 

The tiredness hits you in waves. Glancing at the clock left of your desk, it read 3:26 am. Fuck. You try to ignore the fact that you had to be up in about 4 hours. You close your eyes, welcoming the rest. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A harsh knocking sounded from the direction of your window, scaring the shit out of you. You bolt up, pissed at the disturbance. Turning to face the window, and are met with a familiar grin. Matty. 

It takes all of 5 seconds of him being in your room before you start cursing at him for waking you up like that. He simply shrugs his shoulders and sits in his designated chair. A maroon sofa chair in the corner in front of your bed. It even has M.H carved into the wood, because Matty had some sort of fetish for carving his initials into things. A sign of ownership? It made you wonder. 

Shuffling around the room, you kick your still wet jeans off into the corner, instead picking up a denim skirt. You’d wanted to wear that same red top to school, but seeing as you had fallen asleep wearing it, you chucked it into the same corner as the pants. 

A pink baby tee caught your eye from the chair Matty was sitting in. You silently point at it and he passes it to you. This isn't the first time you've changed in front of him. It didn't happen often, but what was the point of kicking him out? It's not like he was actively staring anyway.

After quickly changing, you go to put on some makeup. Makeup made you feel pretty, pretty enough to go outside. The only person who sees your bare face regularly is Matty. Maybe George. You didn't go anywhere without it.

You can feel Matty looking at you from the corner of your eye. Raising your eyebrows at him, you ask him what he's staring at. 

“D’you reckon i can try some of that?” he gestures vaguely at the eyeshadow brush in your hand “I think i’d look class with my new highlights.” he twirls his hair around his finger, giving you a look.

You look at him skeptically, before breaking out into a smile. Matty smiles back. It's not long before he’s sat in front of you, wincing whenever the brush makes contact with his eyelid. You tell him hes just not used to it, and to just stay still, for fucks sake. 

Once you're done, you take a step back to admire your work. You have to admit, he looks good. Really good. His eyes were lined with a dark purple shadow, making them appear slightly bigger. He takes his fingers, slightly smudging the out corners, giving him a catty look. 

“I think you might even look even better than me,” you say, looking him up and down. This is one of those rare moments where you can't read Mattys' expression at all. Finally, he opens his mouth

“No one could look better than you, trust me,”  

A beat of silence before he speaks again

“I do look ravishing though, d’you reckon Adam'll like this more than the highlights?” He always manages to make himself laugh. Then in typical Matty fashion, he pulls out a beat up looking joint from the pocket of his too tight jeans. 

“Fancy a spliff?” 

“Matty, for christ's sake, we have school in about an hour, and you want to smoke now?” 

“It's the only true way to get through Mr. Henderson's maths class, you know it'll be unbearable if we don't.” translation: please smoke with me. He gives you a look, because you know he's right. 

It was too late to protest. He’d already made his way to open your window, knowing how much you hate stinking up your room.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, and you find your place next to him. 

The wind and rain had calmed down, so Matty had no difficulty lighting it. The smell filled your senses, almost overwhelming you. You were thankful for the fresh air.

He placed the spliff between your lips, watching you intently as you inhaled. Your orange lip gloss had rubbed off the filter, and transferred onto his lips. The weed wasnt as strong as last nights, but still, the sight of Mattys glossed lips made you break out into a fit of giggles. Time seemed irrelevant up until the point you had to run to catch your bus. Sweaty and out of breath, you sat down in your usual spot. 

You can hear comments and insults being thrown at Matty from the back of the bus, but neither of you paid much mind. Matty was high as a kite, and too loopy (hungover) from the previous night to offer up one of his witty retorts. Instead, both of you gave them the bird from over the seat.

Matty was leaning against you, his arms hooked into yours. Neither of you spoke, listening to the soft rumbling of the bus. You stank of weed, anyone could smell it on you. Remembering a perfume bottle in your handbag, you take it out and douse yourself, as well as Matty in it. 

“Oh for fucks sake, now everything smells like Jimmy Choo Illicit!” Matty whined, burying his head in his hands. “Couldn't you have picked a manlier perfume? I'm already walking a very thin line with all of this” He vaguely gestures to himself. 

“Would you rather get kicked out after coming to school smelling like a fucking dispensary? Think ahead, Matthew!” He cringes visibly

“No need to get out the full government name, jesus” he shuffles up against you, and you can see his eyes are a light shade of red. There's no way the two of you would get through first lesson unnoticed. 

George was already waiting for you guys at your stop. Greeting him with a hug, you try to avoid eye contact, yet somehow, he knows. 

“Hey, you alright-?” He cranes his neck to get a better look at your face 

“Are you–? Are you high??” He laughs out loud, smacking your arm to stabilize himself. You shoot him a death stare, but you can feel a laugh coming too. Matty let out a sarcastic haha before kicking George as a way to say get on with it, we have class.

The walk to the room through the sea of people in the halls feels like a claustrophobic hell. B.O ridden teenagers rub up against the three of you, some even (quite violently) shoving past. 

It's a miracle you make it without Matty losing his mind at one of the hecklers. School was actual hell for Matty, and by proxy, you. Insults were thrown at him without a second thought, and the makeup he’d adorned today surely didn't help the comments.

He never let it truly get to him. He didn't care, and that's what you loved so much about him. This part of the city was set back about fifteen years in terms of acceptance and progressivity, so his flowery backpack and femininity wasn't exactly welcomed.

Adam had always taken the piss out of him for his outfits since they were boys, but he never, ever meant it seriously. They were like brothers, those two, and no amount of shit from other people (irrelevants, as Matty would put it) would be able to break them apart. 

The way the room was set up, there were six tables of four, with two people always facing another two. You had sat in the seat next to George, with Matty sitting (well, more like laying) across the other two chairs opposite you. Mr. Henderson had given up on trying to get Matty to sit right a long time ago, instead just flat out ignoring him. It was always easier to fail than to teach. 

“Fucking poofter, that one,” you can hear someone saying from behind you. You know they mean Matty. 

Matty blows them both a kiss before getting flipped off by the shorter one. He loved taking the piss out of the people who insulted him, throwing them off. 

George questions mattys makeup, and you tell him it was his idea. George had always supported Matty, using his insanely tall stature to fend off anyone giving him a hard time. 

The lesson was going by at a snail's pace, with Matty being his usual self, interrupting at every possible moment. It was so obvious he was off his tits, and Mr. Henderson looked suspicious. A particularly loud laugh from George had prompted him to throw you all out. You couldn't care less, getting up immediately.

Matty picked up his things from the floor, making a show out of bending over in front of the two boys that had insulted him earlier. They both scrunch their faces in disgust, muttering under their breaths. A giggle escapes you as they stare daggers.

“Fucking cunt,” one of them says, and now it’s your turn to blow them a kiss. 

The three of you trudge down the halls, slowly but surely coming down from your highs. George suggests going to Ross and Adams flat, seeing as it's just a few bus stops away from the school. They share a flat above a Sainsburys, which is optimal for late night munchies. Adam even works there, so there's always opportunities to sneak a packet of crisps or a can of cola. 

The bus stinks of sweat and mildew, as did all buses in britain. You get used to the stench after a while, your legs propped up onto George and Mattys laps. The back seat was always your favorite, giving you ample space to stretch a bit. You and George share headphones while Matty takes a quick power nap. He always lets you pick the music, and today it was Radioheads ‘No Surprises’. The music plays softly as buildings and trees pass by the window. The day was quite sunny, the light reflecting off of the windows of houses and offices. You'd sobered up enough to be able to think clearly by now. 

These days were the best. They felt calm, like you could forget every other fucked up thing in your life. Your mother, your coursework. Nothing else existed in your little bubble except the people you were with. It felt peaceful, like a breath of fresh air. 

Matty stirred awake as the bus halted to a stop, yawning for dramatic effect. He loved to exaggerate, ever the performer. George was the quiet, brooding type, trying desperately to go unnoticed, which proved rather difficult. Although he was barely coming up on his 18th birthday, he had grown to a staggering 6 '4, with a voice at least 3 or so octaves deeper than Mattys. 

It had proven useful, you aways had someone to send into the smoke shop to buy fags or liquor, even if it always took a pep talk to even get him through the front door. George was convinced he didn't look older, even though he had never been carded. Ever. 

Usually it was Adam who bought it for you, even though both Matty and Ross were also already 18. Matty had already been banned from most liquor stores in the area, so he proved rather useless in situations needing a bit of booze. 

Mattys violent knocks against the flat door brought you back to reality

“C’MON OPEN UP ITS US,” his voice booms through the hallway. You can hear banging and shuffling coming from the other side of the door. It's so obviously Ross bumping into every available surface because he hadn't turned on the light yet. He was an avid day sleeper, mostly working night shifts. A particularly loud crash is followed by glass breaking. 

Matty taps his foot impatiently, waiting for the door to finally open. Ross emerges, looking disgruntled and tired of Mattys shit. 

“Mate, tell me, what possessed you to come knocking about at this hour, don't you have school-? I swear you're going to be the end of me one day” he rubs his eyes, getting the sleep out of them before moving out of the way to let the three of you in. 

“First of all, it's like 11am, so not exactly the ungodly hour you were describing,” Matty starts “Second of all, we’ve been kicked out of class, so where better to come than here?” 

The inside of the flat reeks of cigarettes and laundry detergent. Ross refuses to smoke on the terrace, deeming it too cold even in the middle of summer. Adam always smokes on the terrace, scared of staining the walls like in those addiction documentaries. A futile attempt, but at least he tries. Matty immediately lights a fag, sighing happily when the nicotine hit his system. School had always been an endurance test for him. Getting him to sit still for 2 hours without going for a cigarette proved nearly impossible. He was already itching by the 45 minute mark.

“What did you even do to get kicked out before 12?” He looks at George, who tells him exactly what happened with tears of laughter in his eyes. Matty rolls his before sitting down on the comforter located to the left of the TV, ashing into one of the various ashtrays situated around the house. George sits on the sofa next to Ross, and you make your way to your favorite spot, the table. Sitting cross legged on the table made you all face each other, which you quite liked. 

“Brew?” George asks, looking up from his Ipod. Everyone nods, and he gets up to put on the kettle. Idle conversation fills the air, and Matty starts chatting about the new “groundbreaking” Metallica album. Matty was, if anything, a music snob. No one could stop him raving on about albums or artists, whether he was praising or criticizing them. Once he started, you couldn't stop him to save your life.

Minutes tick past when George brings back mugs of tea. Mattys mug has got the words “I ❤️ cum” on it. Ross has his usual Macclesfield Town mug, and you and George have the plain green ones Adam bought in an attempt to make the flat seem somewhat civilized. 

Hours pass and Matty finally shuts up. You end up on top of him, sitting on the arms of the comforter. You're all watching Skins on the telly, and Mattys hand makes its way to your back, keeping you steady. He’d always been touchy like that, so it didn't bother you. You look at the sofa and see Ross passed out, drooling onto George's jumper. George, polite as ever, lets him sleep. It was a miracle Ross hadn't started snoring already. 

You suggest to Matty that maybe it was time to get going, seeing as you lived on the other side of the city. George's place was right around the corner, so he decided to stay and look after Ross a bit before Adam got home from his shift. Britain's sweetheart. 

Getting up as quietly as possible, making your way towards the door. Ross stirs as Matty almost knocks over his mug. The two of you make eye contact, silently laughing at Ross’ position, basically on top of George. He flipped you off, rolling his eyes and reaching for the remote, turning down the telly.

It was still fairly dark inside, so gathering everything proved a bit of a challenge. The curtains were drawn shut, the yellow material of them painting the house in a warm yellow hue. 

You had spotted Mattys flowery bag in the corner next to the stove, and grabbed it along with a bottle of cola that was set on top of the kitchen counter. Hydration was important, after all, even if you knew Adam would be livid that you were stealing his shit again. What are mates for?    

Matty grabbed both of your coats, mouthing “lets go,” before making his way towards the front door. 

The bright light of the hallway burns your eyes. How do they survive coming out here when that fucking flat is always so dark? You think to yourself. You wonder if Ross has a vitamin D deficiency from the inherent lack of sunshine in his life, yourself excluded. 

The bus ride home is rowdier, filled with kids from surrounding schools. The both of you hid in a corner towards the front, away from the dickheads that usually sat in the back row. You were both too tired to deal with anyone but each other. 

He was right, everything did smell like jimmy choo now, and maybe you shouldn't have sprayed so much. 

His hand wanders to his eyes, rubbing a bit of the eyeshadow off.

“Does it still look alright?” he asks, looking up from your lap. It had smudged a bit, melted off after a full day of wear. It's not like you used your expensive waterproof stuff, after all.

“You look fine, pretty actually,” You give him a tired smile, stroking his hair absentmindedly 

“Can you even call a guy pretty? Isn't that, like, inherently degrading?” Matty mutters, a grin spreading onto his face. 

“It's only degrading if you let it be. You Matthew Healy, are pretty. Pretty like a girl” 

A laugh escapes you, imagining Matty as a woman. Knowing him, he’d be into it. 

“Does it bother you? Y’know, me being feminine and wearing makeup.” The question surprises you. It's a rare thing seeing Matty this vulnerable. He doesn't care what other people think, but he does care what you think. 

“You know I don't care, I actually prefer you this way.” you assure him.

“Though it's still my mission to convince you that the backpack is not the move you think it is.” 

That earns you a frown from Matty. “It is! I'll let you know the lady at the store told be it very in this time of year” its always funny watching him get defensive over his fashion choices, even if he knows he’s fucked up and its hideous. 

“Yeah maybe it's trendy... for 8 year old girls! But you do you mate, don't let me judge you,” that gets you an elbow to the gut. 

The walk home is one you always take together. Arms hooked into each other, walking, sharing headphones. It's your turn on the music, putting on ‘This Charming Man’ by the smiths. 

“You know, Morrissey sort of reminds me of you. You're really similar in your campness”  Matty choked on air, shooting you a faux offended look. 

“Did you seriously call Morrissey camp? He'd have your head for that.” 

“You're both attention slags, so there's at least one similarity.” Matty doesn't say anything, knowing your words do, in fact, ring true. Matty loves attention, and man, is good at getting it. 

He draws people to him like moths to a flame. Always the loudest, always the most interesting. 

That one saying; “You can't be the prettiest girl at the party, but you always be the drunkest” is a personification of Matty. He tips back wine glass after wine glass, not caring about the stains on his shirt or the red ring around his lips. He then makes it a poor Hanns job to make sure he doesnt get into a scrap with three much bigger guys (which actually did happen last summer outside of a pub in london. Matty got out scot free, while Adam nearly suffered a heart attack). 

You hug Matty goodbye, giving him a peck on the cheek. 

You always dreaded coming home. 

They say your biggest critic is your mind, but yours was your mother. You knew she had already gotten a call from the school saying you cut class. The moment you stepped into the living room, the yelling started. “How can you do this” and “What are you even doing with your life” turned into “Look at yourself, you look like a whore and you're going to school like that?” or “Were you out with that little gay boyfriend of yours again?”

You try to tune it out, not letting it get to you. She's been like that for as long as you can remember, never letting up for even just a second. You weren't the best kid, but she sure isn't helping you “get on the right track” as she liked to say.

Tears well up in your eyes when you finally shut your bedroom door. Your first instinct is to call Matty. He picks up after two rings, immediately hearing the quiver in your voice. 

He tells you he’ll be there as soon as he can. 

Minutes pass by slowly until you hear a familiar, although uncharacteristically soft, knock at your window. Matty.

Your puffy eyes meet his and he can tell you’d been crying. No words were exchanged as he took you into your arms, his hands soothingly stroking your hair as you let out muffled sobs into his chest. It broke his fucking heart to see you like this. You were extensions of each other, the others' pain was always your own.    

“It's all so shit. Why cant she just be normal one fucking time.” your voice audibly shakes, partially out of anger and partially out of exasperation. 

“I know i suck, I know I'm a bad daughter but-,” Matty cuts you off. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” His words only make you cry harder. 

He holds you close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, the sound of his voice similar to the way he spoke to you that night. His hands feel cold against your skin, and you know he’d rushed to your house without grabbing his coat. You look up at him, seeing his hair was unruly, curls falling into his face. The blonde highlights littered his dark hair and he ran his hand through them, brushing them to the side to get a better look at you. 

“D’you want to sit down? We can listen to music. Whatever you want, and won't even comment on how shit it is, promise,” He knew you didn't want to talk about it then, you never did.  

You sit in silence, your face still in his chest, staining the light blue material of his shirt. You quietly apologize, knowing how much he loves that shirt. He tells you to shut up, and that it didn't matter. 

He had gotten it in Barcelona at some tourist shop for 50 quid. Insane price for a tshirt that just said “Barcelona” on it, but he held it dear to his heart. It reminded him of his childhood summers. 

“There's a bottle of um…,” you trail off, gesturing to the second drawer of your nightstand. Matty understands, and reaches over you to open it. The drawer is filled with half eaten granola bars, bracelets, jewelry, the odd vape for when it was too cold to go outside. Matty always took the piss out of you for having them, saying they were ‘so fucking girly it hurt’. After a second of rummaging, he took out a half drunk bottle of Bacardi. It always sat in your nightstand for when you needed it, and you definitely needed it now. 

“Only you'd have a giant bottle of rum in your nightstand,” Matty says softly, searching your expression. The corners of your mouth tug upwards at his words, and you crack a smile.   

He opens it for you, and grabs an abandoned cup from your desk. The cup he had gifted you on your 17th birthday. It was covered in flowers and stars, very Matty. Very you. Pouring a healthy amount into the glass, he hands it to you.  

“To shitty situations” He raises it, clinking it against your cup. He takes a swig straight from the bottle. You down the whole thing in one go, wincing as the alcohol burns down your throat. 

“You feel better?” he asks, pouring more into your cup. You nod, before taking another drink. “I just need to get drunk and forget,” you sigh. Matty starts to speak again.

“That's an unhealthy way to go about it. Soon enough I'll be picking you up from corners because you can't handle your liquor. It's a recipe for alcoholism, innit?” you cackle at his words prompting Matty to raise his eyebrows at you.  

“Oh come off it!,” How many times have you been so drunk you couldn't find your own dick if you tried. Sort yourself out before criticizing my drinking habits.” you scoff  

You decide ‘Wonderwall’ by Oasis is the right soundtrack for the night. You lay down next to Matty, your shoulders and thighs touching each other. You look up fondly at the dozens of yellow stars littering your ceiling. Reminiscent of your early childhood, you couldn't bear to take them down. You still felt like a child, your heart yearning for the same innocence you no longer possessed. A distinct naïveté you missed dearly. After your breakup with Phillip you'd realized that the world wasn't all it was cut out to be. People wanted, and they took. It didn't matter to them if they hurt others, because as long as they were satiated, nothing else mattered. 

You turn to your left, draping your arm over Mattys stomach. He let out a deep breath, raising his right arm to draw light circles onto your back. His nails had grown out longer than usual, but the sharpness of them was comforting through the thin material of your tank top. The edge of your small twin bed dug into your back. 

The two of you laid like that for hours before sleep took over your body. The stars on the ceiling blurred as your eyes started to shut. You let out a soft hum, settling into Matty even more, holding him close.

You don't know how long he stayed, but he was gone when you woke up. You feel a sticky note attached to your forehead, the glue rubbing off on your skin. You could barely read Mattys erratic handwriting. The note read: you fell asleep, hope your hangover isn't as bad as mine. left you some Advil on your dresser xx. 

Your hand reached next to you, feeling two tablets. You wash them down with water from the sink. Your cell phone lights up with a text from George 

“We’re meeting at Hanns flat, be there in 30,”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The windows were rolled up, trapping the smoke inside. Your eyes were glazed over, barely able to make out Ross’ face in front of you. Watching as Matty took another hit, you made a ‘give it here’ motion at the zoot, prompting him to hand it to you. Rhianna blared through the radio, a far cry from Adams usual taste in music, but no one seemed to care. Even Matty had managed to keep his mouth shut, instead moving his head in time with the music. 

Adam was sitting in the driver's seat, as always. He’d never let anyone else drive his girl, not even Ross. He was insanely protective over his car, even if it was an old piece of junk. 

George was in the passenger seat, holding a pink, polka dotted ashtray in his hand. The colorful ceramic proved quite the contrast against his dark clothes and messy blonde hair. It was a gift from his older sister, and the only ashtray he ever used. 

You were perched in the middle seat, your elbows on the console between Adam and George. Matty sat on your right, and Ross on your left.  

“No joke, I once had a bird offer to give me a footjob. Can you imagine that?” Adam spoke loudly, almost too loud. Ross let out a disgusting snort, the mental image of Adam getting a footjob making him properly lose it. You make a face. 

“That can't feel good at all, innit? Aren't the soles of feet rough?” you ponder. “Only if you have George's hobbit feet, that is,” Matty said, ducking to avoid yet another lighter being chucked at him. You were going to run out of lighters at this rate. 

“I'll show you hobbit feet you fucking cunt,” George retorted, sticking out his tongue like a child.

“I had a girl once who wanted me to properly bite down on her nipples, like hard. Can't imagine how much that would've hurt.” you share. She’d been quite the odd one up until she was in your bed, so you were already expecting some sort of weird kink. Nipple biting was definitely not on that list. Not that you were kink shaming.  

George spoke first: “What d’you mean girl? You're telling me you've been with girls?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Erm, yeah? Didn't I tell you-?” Everyone shook their heads except Matty. You had already told him this story months before, the both of you laughing at your misfortune. Smiling at the fond memory, you meet Ross’ eye. 

“We didn't know you were like, proper gay,” he says quietly, not wanting to sound abrasive. You suck in a deep breath before answering. “I'm not proper anything, and besides,” you point at Matty sitting next to you, “This one’s snogged loads of blokes.”  A collective “What???” fills the car, with everyone's eyes now on Matty. 

“What if I have? It's not my job to notify you of all my sexual endeavors, innit?” Matty looks slightly uncomfortable, giving you a look. You frown at him, and he shakes his head. Slight signs of a smile linger on his face. It's fine he mouths at you, resting his arm on your shoulder. 

The three of them talk loudly over each other, with Ross asking some very explicit questions on the mechanics of gay sex. 

“How do you even, like, properly shag? It's not like you have anything you can shove into the other girl,” Jesus christ. 

Matty taps Ross’ shoulder, bringing the attention to his hands. He brings them up to his mouth, sticking his tongue out between the V-shape his fingers had made. Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, the whole demonstration makes Ross visibly cringe. 

The car suddenly starts. Adam makes the short drive to Carolines, stating that the hotbox was getting to be too much for him. George has a go at his age, calling him an old man. Hann was in fact, about 2 and a half years older than George, and a solid year older than the rest of you. Old man was right. 

You had rolled down the window on Mattys side, hoping some fresh air would help Adams driving skills. The erratic swerving had begun to make you sick. 

Finally trugding up the stairs to the terrace, Matty says something about it being too fucking cold. Ross says “That's the price of being built like a male Kate Moss,” and Matty nearly shoves him down the stairs. 

It is colder than usual, and you had opted for a dark gray zip up, the material hugging you tightly. You were pretty sure it was Mattys. A pair of green wash jeans hung low, revealing the lightning bolt tattoo on your right hip bone. It was a copy of Bowie's on the cover of ‘Aladdin Sane’. You had gotten it done by another one of your mates, Rome, who was an aspiring tattoo artist. It looked a bit shit, the lines slightly crooked, but it was yours. 

You had convinced George and Ross to carry the sofa from the office onto the terrace. They were the tallest and strongest, and Mattys arms would have snapped like twigs if he tried to carry anything, you said to them. George laughed his octave defying laugh, while Ross let out an annoyed grunt, shoving past you. 

Adam was right behind them, carrying a small wooden coffee table. “For you- I know how much you hate sofas,” he says quietly. You called him a softy, but inevitably thanked him for bringing it out. He had his rare sweet moments, and you appreciate them 

Once you had all settled, you took out your tobacco and papes, starting to roll your first cigarette of the night. You honestly needed a break from all the weed, because jesus. 

Matty let out a groan, taking the piss out of you for bringing all that instead of just buying industrials. 

“I know you think you're better than us for rolling, it's quite pretentious.” he sucks in a breath before talking, moving his hands erratically “Don't tell me it ‘tastes better’ because that's simply bollocks, it all tastes the same!” 

“Pretentious? Her? That's rich coming from someone who raves on about William Burroughs like anyone knows who is!” Matty looks hurt, and you give Ross a look that says you really don't know who William Burroughs is?

The conversation continued without you, too preoccupied with rolling to add anything. All was well until George decided to open his giant mouth again. 

“If you're not fully gay,” he started, “how do we know you're not secretly crushing on any of us?” he raised his eyebrows, looking at you expectantly.

You let out a snort, it slowly morphing into laughter until you look at him, his expression deadly serious. 

“You can’t actually mean that?” your voice is slightly hoarse. “For all we know, you could be harboring secret affection for Matty with the amount of times you’ve slept in the same bed.” 

Mattys perks up at this, shooting George a glare that could kill a man. He told him??? 

You don't know what came over you. Maybe it was the weed, maybe you were just groggy from the lingering hangover. You lick the cig closed, setting down next to the others. Uncrossing your legs, you get up and walk towards Matty. You can see the grin plastered onto his face, and he is definitely not sober.

You stumbled over Adam's foot, kicking it out of the way. Ross moved away from Matty, giving you some space. 

The terrace was dark, but the moonlight illuminated some of Mattys features. Specifically, his eyes. They seemed to glow, following your every step toward him. I'll show you secret affection you thought to yourself when your hand made contact with Mattys face. The stubble on his chin scratched your fingers. He never could grow a beard, and the faint shadow was as long as it would get. 

He sat with his legs spread, skin peaking out through the single rip in his jeans. His arms rested on the sofas back, splaying out to the side. He wore a black v-line jumper, the knit of it almost see-through.  

The makeup from the previous day was still smudged on his face, giving him a rockstar-esque look. The eyeshadow framed his eyes, glittering in the faint light. Your hands cupped his face, lightly stroking his jaw. The grin had been wiped off his face the moment you had settled between his legs, kneeling on the edge of the sofa. 

You didn't think, just moved, your lips smashing against each other. It seemed to take Matty by surprise, and it even took him a second before he kissed you back. One thing nagged at you. Why did you like it?

There was no time to think when you heard George wolf whistle at the both of you. 

You want a show, I'll give you a show you thought, slipping in your tongue and taking over the kiss. He seemed into it, but then again, Matty would fuck anything with a pulse. You smile against his mouth at the thought. It suddenly felt hot, even though you were outside. His hand snaked its way into your hair, tugging slightly. This didn't feel platonic. Was it?

“Alright, alright, we didn't sign up for a porno,” Ross says, his hand covering his mouth. You were the one who broke the kiss. Matty let out a soft groan when you parted, loud enough for only you to hear. His eyes pierced yours, and you moved to get off of him. 

Your heart thrummed against your ribcage, and you felt dizzy. What the fuck?

You wiped your mouth, your lipgloss having smeared all over your face. Wiping the back of your sticky hand against the sofa, you turned and walked back to your spot on the table. 

“See! Absolutely no ‘secret affection’ as George so kindly put it.” you say to the group, going back to your pile of fags, taking one and lighting it. If you had looked at Matty instead of being preoccupied with Hanns bickering about the prissy new manager, you would have noticed a faint shade of red caressing his cheeks. He felt around for his own cigarettes, and took out a pack of parliaments. Spotting the lighter next to you, he reached for it, lighting the cig as he inhaled the smoke eagerly.

It was already half two when the five of you finally piled back into Hanns car. The prominent stench of weed made you scrunch up your nose. You decide to light a cigarette in the car despite various protests and threats to your life if you even dared to ash onto the leather seats. Switching seats with Matty, you ash out the window instead, resting your head against the rim of the car. 

Ross and George were having yet another meaningless debate on whether mixing ketchup and mayo was a cardinal sin or totally acceptable. Every other word was an insult, and you knew they would never come to an agreement, ever.

You had already established that you’d be sleeping over at Mattys, saving Adam time and petrol not having to drive both of you home separately. Denise and Tim were out on a press tour, so he had the house to himself. 

His room was dark, the curtains drawn shut. If you knew Matty, you knew he hated the big light with a burning passion. Instead, a small lamp was turned on in the corner, illuminating the various posters that littered his wall. Band posters, prints, tapestries, the occasional quote. Everything screamed Matty

His room was filled with so much music. CD’s, vinyls, even the odd cassette tape. His purple record player sat on top of a dresser next to his desk, surrounded by various small trinkets of his. It was his prized possession, a gift from his mother for his 14th birthday.  

You had already helped yourself to a cola from his fridge downstair. His house was huge, way bigger than your own. Your parents weren't actors, after all. The walls of his room were stained towards the corners, just another side effect of Mattys near constant chain smoking. His bed was big, and you both fit comfortably on it. The wardrobe next to it had a pile of your own clothes in it, but none to sleep in. Your eyes dart around the room looking for one of his to wear, landing on his bright pink durex t-shirt. He had worn it once to school, promptly getting kicked out of literature class by a very conservative Mrs. Sexton.

Soft music was playing in the background as you unloaded your bag onto Matty’s insanely cluttered desk. Out came multiple pens, makeup, not one, not two, but three lighters, and finally, makeup wipes.    

You sat on the ground in front of his full length mirror, wiping at your eyes and face. Matty was making the bed, giving the both of you each your own duvet, a must after too many fights over the blanket. You weren't a peaceful sleeper, constantly tossing and turning, occasionally even kicking Matty in the back. 

Washing your face, you hear the bathroom door click open. Matty went and sat on the closed toilet lid next to you.

“Hand me my toothbrush, will you? And some toothpaste.” he asked, stretching his hand out. You do, even wetting the toothbrush for him. 

He sat there, brushing his teeth and flipping through a recent issue of playboy while you put moisturizer on, and then a serum. 

“I dont get how you can be arsed to put all that shit on your face, it takes way too long,” his comment makes you roll your eyes at him in the reflection. 

“Not everyone is naturally blessed with clear skin like you, people like me have to put effort into their appearance, knobhead.” A wave of insecurity hits you as you inspect the acne on your face. 

You had been a chronic face picker in your early teenage years, and the consequences of that were gnarly acne scars covering most of your face. They were not prominent, but they were there. 

Matty was fortunate enough to have had maybe three zits ever, his clear skin the stuff of dreams. 

Matty watches you pick yourself apart in the mirror. He hated when you did that. It made his heart ache in his chest. He wished you could see what he saw. What did he see?

“You’re quite beautiful, really,” he says, making eye contact with you through the mirror. You’re taken aback, not quite sure how to respond. You open your mouth to speak. 

“Oh bugger off,” you say, your voice breathy and annoyed. You didn't want to sound annoyed, it just came out that way. 

Matty raises both his hands in defeat, and spits the toothpaste into the toilet bowl, flushing. The hairbands sitting on the bathroom counter eventually end up in your hair, holding together two braids on either side of your face. You stare at the mirror one more time, examining yourself. The pink fabric of your (well, Mattys) shirt clung to you like it did Matty. Taking off your bra, you go back into his room. He had changed into a loose Kiss t-shirt and black boxers. The light of the corner lamp helped you find your phone, sitting on the nightstand next to you. 

The atmosphere was calm, calm enough that you’d almost forgotten about the kiss. Almost. 

Matty reached over to turn the lamp off, lighting a candle for light. Cinnamon. 

“You know it's dangerous to sleep with candles lit? We could catch on fire and die,” Matty had rolled over on his side, now facing you. A grin spread onto his face. 

“If it kept me from ever seeing Hanns ugly mug ever again, i’d gladly let cinnamon spice scented flames burn me to death,” 

You giggle at his words. Poor Adam, always taking the worst of Mattys jokes, if you could even call them that. Accepting his decision to keep the candle lit, you pull the blanket over your shoulders. Your eyes shut and you can feel butterflies in your stomach. Butterflies, really? Jesus fucking christ. 

You're scared to open your eyes, scared to even look at Matty. Maybe it was a mistake. He's your best mate. That kiss didn't mean anything, especially not to him.

A million thoughts race through your head, and you shove them into a small corner of your mind. Ignore ignore ignore, it didn't mean anything. He's just some wanker who picked you up at a bus stop three years ago and somehow became your best mate. He's just some guy you share a bed with sometimes. He's just some guy who lights your spliffs for you. He's just some guy who you kissed on a terrace overlooking the city. 

Fuck. 

[midnightlizard]

Why can't everyone just go away, only you can stay

Wanda Maximoff x gn!reader

Summary: After a bad mission, your girlfirend is there to help you

Warnings: canonical violence, hurt/comfort at it's peak

A/N: I wrote this years ago so I don't really like it, but here it is. Also, I had emo Wanda in mind but it can be any era

Word count: 1518

-

-

"How is that cut? Need any help?"

you raised your head form were you were sitting on the quinjet while mending your forearm, to look at the blonde.

"don't worry I got this, I've had worse, anyway."

you signed, smiling reassuringly.

"okay." Clint sighed.

"I'll do your report, we've held the same position so I'll just have to change some words."

He stopped you before you could interject

"you need some sleep"

and without another word, he went to sit in the pilot's seat, leaving you there.

>>>>

As soon as the team got off the plane, you went straight to your room and locked the door.

Meanwhile, Wanda was with Natasha in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the two of them. They stopped once Steve came into the room.

"hey Steve, already back?"

"the mission ended before the time, so here we are." he answered the assassin's question, while picking up some leftovers from the fridge.

At this, the witch tilted her head "something wrong?"

The captain sighed "I wasn't there, you should ask them yourself"

The two redheads looked at each other, exchanging confused stares.

>>>>

Wanda decided to give you some space, she knew that once you were okay you would be the one coming to her.

Only this time, it didn't happen. Two days have passed and you were still in your room, which meant you hadn't eaten anything.

The other avengers have tried to get you out, like Tony asking for help in the laboratory, or Thor stating he wanted to play some 'Midgard games'.

But they only got silence in return.

The witch took matters into her own hands.

She went in the kitchen, fixing you a quick meal and grabbing two water bottles, before knocking on your door.

No one answered, so she tried again, this time with her voice.

"(Y/N)? It's me, it's Wanda. Please open the door."

she waited a few seconds, before she resumed talking.

"at least take the food, you can't-"

Her voice died in her throat when she heard the door open.

Having her hands full, she used her powers to open it completely and closing it once she was in.

Your room was always messy...but this, Wanda has never seen all this chaos. Clothes were all over the place and everything that was normally on the shelves was now on the floor.

The rays picking through the blinds being the only thing illuminating the room.

You still wore your dirty and bloody suit, whose blood it was she couldn't tell.

You were sitting on the bed, looking at the hands on you lap. The redhead left the food on the nightstand before sitting beside you. She didn't dare touch you, not knowing what reaction it would have led to.

“I didn’t want you to see this.”

You suddenly said, breaking the agonizing silence in the room.

"honey it's okay, I don't care about the mess, I only care that you are fine."

She put her hand on yours, only for you to swiftly getting away.

"well I am, if you didn't know I can heal my body, so even if I get hurt it doesn't matter."

You replied a little harshly. You noticed your tone and looked at Wanda for a brief second but couldn't bring yourself to say sorry, you just didn't want to talk and make everything worse.

Your girlfriend, thankfully, understood the venom in your voice wasn't aimed at her. She couldn't read your mind, no, but she could distinguish volumes and velocity of your thoughts, and with time she was able to associate them with your feelings and emotions.

Loud and messy cries was all the scarlet witch could hear, which only meant one thing, you were scared.

So she tried with the sweetest voice she could master.

"angel, do you want to talk about it?"

You jumped off the bed and started pacing around the room, fidgeting with your fingers.

"I-I had to hold position, but-but there was a bomb. They put a bomb where we were supposed to stay and then, I-I tried to reject- Clint was busy-"

Your poorly formed speech stopped once you felt warm hands on your cold cheeks. You were starting to have a panic attack, sign the sokovian knew all too well.

"please look at me, shh it's okay. You don't have to explain. (Y/N)-"

She took one of your hand and put it on her chest, to let you feel it rising and her heartbeat.

"you're okay love, just follow my breathing, the mission went well, Clint is fine, you are fine, you are here with me you hear me?"

She kept looking into your eyes, searching for any reaction.

At this point you didn't know if she was using her powers or it was her aura, all that mattered was that in minutes you calmed down. As slowly as one could, you loosely wrapped your hands around Wanda's waist.

Once she sure it was okay to move, she made the final step and wrapped you up in a hug, her chin on your head, resting on her chest, while the sokovian run her hands through you hair.

As she tried to move the two of you to bed, the witch heard your arms tighten around her middle, and your flebile voice whispering- "Can we just stay here for a moment?"

"I’m not going anywhere."

>>>>

After probably half an hour you raised your head and without a word, connected your forehead to hers.

Once you opened your eyes, you found her already looking at you with a smile.

"hey."

"hi" Wanda nudged you nose with her own, before connecting your lips in a long but simple kiss, neither of you moving, only slightly smiling.

The woman took your face in her hands

"can I mend your cuts?"

At your nod, the readhead took your hands and brought you to the bathroom and sat you on the sink.

While she was looking for the first aid kit you started fidgeting with your hands.

"something wrong baby?"

She tilted her head, preparing the alcohol on the wadding.

"it's just-" you hesitated for a moment, softly laughing

“I’ve never had someone taking care of me before.

I'm sorry for reacting that way...and for locking myself here"

"it's okay, you won't have to worry about doing it all by yourself anymore, even when you feel like no one is there, I'll always be here, ready to help you, got it?"

"good" she added after you nodded, booping your nose, causing you both to giggle.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked, once silence settled in.

"when have you ever asked?"

So she did.

As you were enjoying the kiss, you suddenly felt the cut on your forehead burning, causing you to pull away.

"ow, what the hell?"

"sorry baby, I have to disinfect it or it's going to get worse" she looked at you sympathetically, which was enough to convince you.

After a short while, you raised your hands, bringing them on the edge of her jeans and opened your legs, to bring her closer. Once she was done she kissed the top of your head.

She grabbed the end of your shirt and slowly started to undress you, only leaving the pants on.

"take a bath love, I'll be right outside, okay?"

>>>

After you got out of shower, you found some pants with your comfort hoodie on the sink, while your suit was nowhere to be found.

When you came back to the bedroom, you found your girlfriend wearing one of your sweatshirt. A smile made its way to your face.

"I kind of wanted to ask you to stay here because I don’t wanna sleep alone tonight, but it looks like you have already decided" you finished with a shrug.

She blurted out a laugh, coming in front of you.

"I didn't want you to sleep alone, and I also missed you, so it's a win win."

The readhead mormored with a blush on her cheeks.

With the grip she had on your hands, Wanda dragged you to bed and made you sit on the edge. "come on, eat something" she encouraged you, putting the plate on your lap. It was nothing too sophisticated but you still ate it within minutes. And once a water bottle was offered to you, you quickly drank it all.

When she was sure you took full care of yourself, well you both did, she laid in bed, getting behind you.

You instinctively turned around and closed your arms around her waist, laying your head on her chest, while she ran her hand through your hair.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

The remark caused you to scoff and her to laugh, before continuing with her speech.

"and I love you, always and forever."

She laughed again when you nuzzled your head in her neck, not knowing how to take direct words of affection.

"goodnight, my love"

This time as a response she heard your breathing even out, meaning you were already asleep, her not being too far from you.

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist - MCU Masterlist

General Masterlist

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 31

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Wednesday, January 6th, 2:45 PM - Class

Three days since classes resumed. Nothing much has changed for now. The only difference is that I can finally go back to the common room after class. My exams are finally over, and I've caught up on all my classes. It’s nice to be able to hang out with my friends again, especially Alexia since we'll soon be in different classes if all goes well. We should receive our responses to our choices tomorrow. The class council meeting will take place in a few hours. Yet the teachers haven't become any less annoying at the end of this semester. I'm relieved when the bell rings, signaling the end of our last class. Ale and I walk out with smiles on our faces. I received my last grade today, and let’s just say I aced it all.

"Hey, Bronze!" I shout when I see her in the hallway.

I apologize to Alexia, telling her not to wait for me, then walk over to meet my advisor, who's pinning up posters on a notice board. Apart from the morning checks, we've barely seen each other since classes started again. She's been less on my back, but I can tell she's still watching me from the shadows ever since I told her about Feli.

"Ona. How can I help you?"

I show her my math paper, proudly displaying a red fifteen. She congratulates me before continuing her work, without giving me much more attention. She’s distant. It's like she resents me for hiding Feli's intentions from her. I hate it when she makes me regret things. She should know that this situation already affects me enough without her adding her two cents.

"Can I ask you something?" 

"Help me, then, if you're going to stick around."

I nod and hold the poster for her while she tapes it up. She pauses for a moment to take a look.

"So? What did you want to ask me?"

"I wanted to know if you could buy me a new phone? Or at least come with me to get one this weekend? Ever since mine broke, I haven’t been able to contact anyone."

"No."

My smile fades at her refusal, catching me off guard. I was expecting there wouldn’t be any problem. I hadn’t even prepared to convince her otherwise.

"What do you mean, no?"

"The answer is no. You won't be getting a new phone."

"But why? You already keep me here, and I'm getting tired of having to bother Ale every time I need to borrow hers."

"I said no, Ona. Don’t insist."

"But, but..." I stammer desperately. "You’re cutting me off from the world!"

I let go of the poster to face her. It falls to the ground since it was only attached on one side. Lucy sighs in frustration at the mess I made. It probably got torn, but that's the least of my worries right now.

"Pick it up, please."

I squint at her, but her stern gaze wins by a long shot. I give in and pick it up. I put it back in place so she can fix my mistake. I only let go once it's properly secured this time, then cross my arms, waiting for her response before continuing to help her.

"I don't see why you'd say no."

"And I don't see why you're reacting like this. You’re acting like a spoiled child."

"Yeah, well, I don’t like it when you tell me no."

"Someone has to, so you understand that not everything is a given."

I puff out my cheeks under her amused look. 1-0 for her. I finally sigh when she gives me a small hug and hands me a new poster.

"Come on, stop acting like a child. I’m doing this for your own good."

"I don't see how," I mutter.

"You don't see why?" she raises an eyebrow.

"No, I don't. How is refusing me a new phone for my own good?"

"Well, for starters, your ex is a dangerous psychopath. Does that answer your question?"

"That’s not a reason," I complain in a displeased whine.

"It is. By now, she’s probably still harassing your number, so if you want a new phone, you’ll need to change your number first."

I'm so tired of her always being right. I didn’t dare put my SIM card in Alexia’s phone for that exact reason. I didn’t want to face her messages and calls.

"Fine..." I concede, facing the facts.

"I can help you sort this out, but in the meantime, you’ll have to make do with Alexia’s phone or mine if you really need to contact someone."

I feel ashamed for thinking she just wanted to stop me from communicating. She only wants to make sure Feli can’t find me. She’s redoing all the steps my mother took a year and a half ago.

"I’m sorry..."

She smiles, ruffling my hair in response. I help her hang the last poster, and she picks up the old ones she left on the floor before we head down the stairs.

"The steps are going to be complicated... My mom usually handles that kind of thing since she pays for my plan. I have no idea how to do it."

"I figured. That’s why I’m offering to do it together since you’ll need to call her."

"Are you serious?"

"You want a phone, don’t you?"

I groan, already knowing what her next answer will be. How am I going to ask my mom to change my SIM card without explaining the situation? I didn’t want her to know. I need to prove to her that I can handle things without her intervening in my life.

"Luce?"

"I already told you not to call me that here, Ona," she scolds.

"Sorry... But... Do you think I’ll have to tell my mom about... Feli and all that?"

"I won’t force you to tell her if you don’t want to, but she’ll need an explanation. As a mother, I’d want to know about this kind of thing with my kids. But I know you’re not on good terms with her, so it’s up to you."

"I’ve been wanting to switch to another mobile phone plan for a while. This could be a good opportunity to negotiate."

"Then you just have to come up with a believable excuse," she says, stopping in the hall. "In the meantime, you’ll have to wait. By the way, you’ll need to give me your phone. Or I’ll come to your room tonight instead. I want to destroy your SIM card."

"Okay... Do you think the stolen phone excuse will work?"

"Maybe," she shrugs. "Now, can I get back to work?"

"Can I stay with you?"

"Now that you’re rid of me, you want to stick around?" she laughs.

"I never wanted to get rid of you," I say, following her to her office. "Well..."

I turn around and walk backward. I return her smile when we face each other.

"Maybe that was the case at first. But it’s not anymore!"

Unexpectedly, Lucy grabs my arm. She must have underestimated her strength because I find myself pressed against her. She takes a step back, apologizing. I frown when I realize the apology isn’t directed at me.

"My apologies, Mrs. Wiegman. She’s a bit scatterbrained when she wants to be."

I widen my eyes, realizing who’s behind me. I slowly turn around to indeed see the principal I almost ran into. Luckily, she said her name, or I would have made a fool of myself. This time I would’ve gotten scolded by Wiegman herself.

"No worries, it’s more fear than harm. Did Ona cause any trouble again?"

"Oh, no, no. She just told me she lost her phone. We’re going to call her mom to have it blocked."

"Did it get stolen here?" she asks me.

"Uh, no. It happened outside the camp... I haven’t had time to tell Bronze," I lie.

"Oh. Will you take care of it, Miss Bronze?"

"Of course. That was my intention."

"Good, I must go. I have a class council meeting to attend. Yours, in fact," she informs me.

"Oh..." I murmur, feeling uneasy.

"Good evening."

She continues on her way to the stairs. I feel Lucy’s hand on my lower back, urging me to move forward. That was a close call. I enter her office, which is empty. Lucy drops the posters she was still holding into a bin and sits behind her desk.

"Is Ingrid not here today?"

"She is, just not here."

"Okay," I reply, sitting across from her. "Why did you say that to Wiegman? Are you really going to call my mom?"

"Of course not," she laughs. "I don’t even have her contact info. I just didn’t want her to know you’re staying in my office for fun."

"Hum..." I mutter, resting my head in my hands. "Hey, I’ve had a question on my mind for a while."

"Hum?"

"Why did you take it so badly that Jenni and-"

We’re interrupted by a noise at the door. We both look toward it, and I’m surprised to see Alessia there. She seems just as surprised as I am. My advisor breaks our eye contact by inviting her in. She hands her a paper about a student who apparently went to the infirmary, if I understood correctly. Lucy needs to sign it to acknowledge that the student won’t be returning to class.

"Aren’t you with the others?" she asks me.

"No," I reply simply.

"Are you going to join them?"

"I don’t know, maybe," I shrug.

"My office isn’t a tea room," Lucy says harshly, handing back the paper.

"Sorry," Alessia replies. "Thanks for signing the paper."

"Hum. Now get back to class."

Alessia nods, giving me one last look. She says, "See you later," before leaving the room for good. I follow her with my eyes before turning back to Lucy. She rolls her eyes, making me chuckle.

"She really doesn’t leave you alone, does she? What was that New Year's thing with her?" she asks.

"Mapi wanted to prove to me that she’s got me in her sights, if you know what I mean. She stuck to me all night to make her jealous."

"Well, it seems like she succeeded, given the way she’s eyeing you."

"You should’ve seen, she got wasted before midnight," I sigh.

"And does she interest you?"

"No. I found her nice, but much less so since we disagreed on a subject. And besides, she’s not my type. Even if she was, I don’t want to get into a relationship right now. As you said yourself, I have a dangerous ex-psychopath."

"That doesn’t stop you from having a new relationship. Maybe not with Alessia, but with someone else in your life could help you move on."

"Drop it," I mutter. "I don’t want to talk about it."

I avoid the conversation by burying my head in my arms. I hear her sigh, but it seems she drops the subject, getting back to work based on the noises I hear. I wait a few more minutes to make sure before lifting my head from my hiding place. I smile when I see she’s wearing her glasses. I love seeing her with them; she wears them so well.

"I can understand that you had a disastrous relationship, but to the point of not wanting another one..."

And she’s back at it. I roll my eyes in exasperation.

"I’m not ready, that’s all. I understand that everyone’s different, but I can’t. There are still too many scars."

"Okay, no need to take it like that," she rolls her eyes in turn. "I won’t insist on the subject anymore."

She finally goes silent, much to my relief. I continue to watch her, or rather, admire her as she works. I have to admit, she has a lot of charisma. Our silence reminds me that I didn’t get to finish my question about my roommate’s relationship. That’ll have to wait for another time. Since she decided to stop talking, I rest my head in my arms and enjoy the quiet to relax.

Wednesday, January 6th; 6:15 PM - Instructor's Office.

I groan as tremors take over my body. I gradually emerge, remembering where I am. I sit up and rub my eyes, catching Lucy's smug smile.

- "About time."

- "What time is it?" I murmur sleepily.

- "Quarter past six."

- "What?" I exclaim, fully awake now. "You let me sleep? For two hours?"

- "Actually, you left me talking to thin air for a while. I realized at some point that you’d fallen asleep, so I decided to let you be. You looked like you needed it."

- "You should’ve woken me up earlier! I wanted to join the others!" I grumble.

- "Well, you'll spend time with them tomorrow."

I sigh, stretching to chase away the stiffness in my body from the nap. Lucy mocks me.

- "Come here."

Without thinking, I lean over the desk. My reflex is to pull back when I see her hands approach my face. She chuckles.

- "Come on, I just want to clean up your smudged makeup."

I lean forward again, understanding her intent. I roll my eyes as she wipes under them with her thumbs.

- "There, all done," she smiles.

- "Thanks, and thanks for letting me sleep," I say, slumping back against the chair.

- "You’re welcome. I knew it would do you some good."

- "If you say so," I reply playfully, rolling my eyes. "Any news from the class council?"

- "No, sorry. And even if I did, you'd have to wait until tomorrow, like everyone else."

- "You’re mean," I pout.

- "Patience. I’m sure you’ll know more by tomorrow morning."

- "I hope so. Weren't you supposed to attend?"

- "No, it's just for the teachers and the principal in this kind of meeting."

- "I didn’t know that."

- "You couldn’t have known," she smiles. "Anyway, didn’t you want to meet up with your friends?"

- "At this hour, I’ll just join them at the cafeteria."

- "Alright. So can we talk about the insomnia you mentioned on New Year's? I doubt your little nap was a coincidence."

- "On second thought… Maybe I’ll go meet the others..."

- "Too late, your chance to escape is gone," she teases.

She’s only half-joking, as I know she won’t let me go now. Why does she have to remember everything?

- "They persist, but I’m managing," I say honestly.

- "I thought I told you to talk to me if that was the case," she frowns.

- "I’ll tell you if it gets worse."

- "So it could get worse?"

Clearly, I tend to speak too quickly with her. She manages to get me to talk so naturally. I’ll have to learn to watch my words if I don’t want her to know too much.

- "A few weeks before starting school, I had nightmares. I’d wake up in the middle of the night, and it’s starting to happen again. They’re not as bad right now, but they could become more intense."

- "See, this is exactly the kind of thing you should talk to me about more often."

- "I’m sorry," I sigh. "There was a time when I wasn’t having them anymore… I didn’t think they’d come back."

- "Do you want to talk to me about these nightmares?"

- "No. They’re about my past... It’s nothing important," I lie.

- "Hmm," she responds skeptically. "And what’s the worst consequence you’ve had so far?"

- "A panic attack, I guess. The nightmares feel so real that they make me panic," I admit in a whisper.

She sighs, running a hand over her face. I bite my lip, thinking I probably should have told her as soon as they returned. I wanted to avoid worrying her over something so minor while I was still in Barcelona. I had hoped to solve the problem before coming back, but that wasn’t the case. Seeing Feli again must be the cause. I’m angry at myself for not being able to shake it off. I had managed to get rid of it before coming here.

- "Alright. If it gets worse, I want you to tell me as soon as possible, and if you have a panic attack, I want to be notified. Is that clear?"

I nod, not daring to argue. Her tone leaves no room for disobedience.

- "I’ll also inform the night supervisors on your floor."

Great... Now I’ll have to be even more discreet than before. Well, at least they’ll be warned if something more serious happens. I don’t think it will, but you never know. I’d hate to disturb Lucy in the middle of the night. I’m already bothered just by the thought of possibly waking up Alexia if I’m not careful.

- "Alright, I’m done with my work. We can head to the cafeteria together if you want."

- "Yeah."

- "No homework for tomorrow?"

- "No. Our teachers aren’t giving us anything since we change classes next week."

- "Oh right, silly me."

- "By the way, um..." I begin hesitantly. "Can you help me with that? Well, not really help, but supervise me or something like that. I was more serious when you were helping me, and I might slack off if you’re not on my case anymore..."

I feel embarrassed seeing her raise an eyebrow. I don’t like asking for this kind of thing, so I sink into my chair as if it would make me disappear. A refusal from her would be utterly humiliating. Finally, she gives me a silly smile.

- "You’re going to end up on the floor if you keep sinking like that."

- "Oh, shut up," I say, sitting up straight. "I’m not used to asking for this kind of thing. I’ve always managed on my own until now."

- "Oh, but I didn’t say anything," she smiles a bit more.

- "But you’re thinking it really loudly!"

- "Here, after your classes. You can manage your time based on how much homework you have. Does that work for you?"

- "Really?"

- "Yes, of course. But I won’t be able to help you as much as before. I’ll only step in if it’s absolutely necessary. Don’t forget that I have a job too."

- "No worries. I just need your supervision to stay motivated."

- "I know," she smiles. "We’ll start when you switch classes and all that."

- "Yep, that works for me."

- "Good," she says, closing her binder. "Now, how about we go eat? I’m hungry."

I nod enthusiastically. She puts away her binder while I grab my jacket and bag. The building is empty at this hour. She locks the main door behind us. It’s pitch black and still freezing outside. I tighten my jacket as I see snowflakes clinging to the ground.

- "Does it ever stop snowing here?" I complain.

- "I think we’ll have it for a little while longer," she laughs.

- "How do you handle it, coming from Portugal too?"

- "Well, you get used to it, and I don’t complain as much as you," she teases.

I sigh and cross my arms to preserve my warmth. She’s probably right. Lucy complains less than I do. We reach the cafeteria, where she waits with me at the entrance after I tell her I see my friends coming from a distance.

- "Still good for this weekend?"

- "Of course, if you’re still up for it. It’s your only way out of school anyway, since I’m not letting you go home."

- "So I can crash at your place in return?"

- "I never said that. I said a weekend, not multiple."

- "You’re forbidding me from going home. You owe me at least that."

- "I don’t owe you anything," she laughs. "I’m doing this for you," she adds with a wink.

- "Yeah, right."

I turn around when I hear the door open with a rather noisy group. Bingo, it’s my friends.

- "Well, enjoy your meal."

- "Thanks, you too," I wish her.

We exchange a smile before she leaves with Ingrid, who arrived shortly after my friends entered. Everyone heads to the dining hall except Alexia, who comes over to me.

- "So, what were you doing after class?"

- "I was with Bronze for a bit. I wanted to join you all after, but I fell asleep at her desk," I admit.

- "Bravo," she teases.

Alexia is in the best position to know that I’m running on short nights. I had to tell her. I could have hidden it, but I wanted to avoid scaring her by going to the bathroom in the middle of the night. That’s where I need to go to pull myself together. Given my clumsiness, I’d probably wake her up by accident while doing so. It hasn’t happened yet, but stealth isn’t my strong suit. For example, on the first night, I bumped into my desk. Last night, I stubbed my little toe on the bed frame... I’m already dreading what will happen tonight.

We arrive at our table with our trays full. I start eating while they tell me about what I missed after class. It doesn’t seem like much since they didn’t do much except play foosball. Everyone is here tonight, which is quite rare. At least, that's what I thought until I noticed someone was missing.

- "Isn't your sister eating with us tonight?" I asked Leah.

- "Nah, she told me she's eating with her friends. Why?"

- "Just curious. I saw her this afternoon, so I expected to see her with you guys."

- "Oh yeah? Where was that?"

I explained to her what happened in Lucy's office. Based on what she told me, I thought she'd be here. I hope she didn't take it badly that Lucy kicked her out of her office. I didn't really understand why Lucy acted that way. Since the topic of Alessia was brought up, Alexia took the opportunity to question Leah about me to see if she knew anything. I quickly kicked her under the table, not particularly wanting to discuss such matters in front of everyone. It didn't convince Alexia, though, who seemed determined to find out more.

- "I have no idea," she replied. "We don't meddle in each other's relationships. Why, are you interested?"

The question caught me off guard. We had never discussed this kind of thing together before. She didn't seem to mean any harm, judging by the smile on her face.

- "Oh no, not really," I replied, smiling back. "I just like her as a friend, that's all. It's just that Ale and Mapi have been fixated on this since New Year's, so she couldn't resist asking you."

- "What's your type, anyway?" Alba asked.

- "I don't have any particular preference. I suppose brunettes, since all my exes were. But I don't just judge by appearance."

- "Speaking of brunettes..."

I furrowed my brows at Claudia's insinuation. I quickly understood what she meant when I jumped at the feeling of a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see my supervisor's green eyes staring back at me. Since I was facing away from their table today, I didn't see her approach.

- "Don't you get tired of scaring me all the time?"

- "It's not my fault you get startled so easily," she smiled. "When are you heading back to your room?"

- "Probably after dinner," I shrugged. "Why?"

- "Aren't you going to the common room first?"

- "I don't think so," I said, briefly glancing at Ale for confirmation.

- "I'll stop by after eight to fix your phone problem."

- "I can handle it myself, you know."

- "No. I said I'd take care of it. See you later."

I groaned as she ruffled my hair before walking away. I watched her until she left the room. When I looked back at the table, I noticed everyone was staring at me.

- "What?"

- "What's this phone problem?" Patri asked.

- "My phone's dead. I threw it in a fit of anger."

- "Do you want us to take a look at it?" Claudia offered. "Maybe we can fix it?"

- "I don't think so. It's in pieces, so I doubt you could do much, but thanks for offering."

- "Whatever you say."

- "Come on, finish your meal. The last thing we need is Bronze getting on our case for being late."

- "Relax," I teased. "If she takes it out on anyone, it'll be me, not you."

I finished my meal, as I was one of the last ones eating. It was clear the issue between Ale and Lucy was far from resolved. It seemed like she was trying to make a good impression at every opportunity. I really need to talk to Lucy about it. Once we all finished, we headed back to our rooms just before eight. No one felt like going to the common room. We made it back in time, as Lucy arrived a few minutes later. For the first time, she sat next to me on the bed instead of taking my desk chair. She got straight to the point, asking for my phone. She started working on it while asking Alexia if she had a good day. Alexia seemed too surprised to respond properly, which made me smile. She was so thrown off that she excused herself to go take a shower.

- "Are you really going to destroy it?" I asked when I saw her remove the SIM card.

- "I'm going to put it in my phone first. Do you have something to write with nearby?"

- "For what?"

- "To save important numbers, like Mapi's, for example."

I nodded and went to get some paper and a pen. By the time I returned, she had already inserted the SIM card into her phone. She handed it to me so I could enter my passcode to unlock it. Lucy looked over my shoulder as notifications flooded the screen. I bit my lip at the many missed calls and unread messages. Most were from unknown numbers. The rest were from Mapi, worried about not hearing from me.

- "Can I read them?" she asked.

I nodded and handed it back to her. I had nothing to hide and preferred she read them herself rather than me. Curiosity got the better of me, though, and I noticed she started with Mapi's messages. One message in particular caught my attention. I panicked and tried to grab the phone from her, but Lucy held me off.

- "No, please! Don't read that nonsense!"

I nearly crushed her, but she managed to pin my hand behind her back and wrapped her arm around my neck. My free hand tried to reach the phone, but it was a lost cause as she stretched her arm out of reach.

- "'Sexy Commander took away your phone?'" she read, raising an eyebrow. "What's with that nickname?" she laughed. "I assume she's talking about me?"

I stopped struggling now that she had read the one thing I didn't want her to. She looked at me amusedly, waiting for an answer.

- "It's just a Mapi thing. I already told her to stop, but you know how she is; once she starts something, it's a lost cause."

- "Hmm," she smiled. "You'll have to explain the origin of that nickname one day. I imagine it's not new."

- "You don't need to know everything in life."

- "But I want to know," she challenged.

- "I think we have more important things to do, don't we?"

- "You're right, but you won't get away with it," she teased. "Let's check the other messages."

She released her hold on me so I could sit properly next to her. Most of the messages were from unknown numbers. It couldn't be Feli's since I blocked her. But the content of the messages made it clear it was her. They were full of apologies or "let me talk to you." Some even contained the violence and anger of being ignored. I eventually stopped reading, but Lucy kept going until the end. She said nothing before telling me to grab something to write with. I listened as she started dictating the numbers I needed. I didn't save many. The first ones I took were Mapi's, Sam's, and Lucy's. I also kept the numbers of my high school friends I reconnected with, as well as my mom's, the house's, and Marcus's. Since the SIM card would be destroyed, I might as well keep them. She turned off her phone, removed the SIM card, and unceremoniously broke it. She folded it several times until it snapped in two. I wasn't sure what I was feeling at that moment.

- "Are you okay?"

- "Yeah... Thanks for doing all this."

- "If you need to communicate, you can come see me, and I'll lend you my phone."

I nodded, biting my lip. She raised her arm, inviting me to snuggle against her. I sighed as she stroked my hair to help me relax. I'll never understand why she gets so involved in my problems, but I'm really glad she does. From the beginning, she said she wouldn't let me go, and she wasn't lying. I'm developing a real affection for her, and it's growing stronger every day. I moved away from her when Alexia interrupted us by coming out of the bathroom. She doesn't know the extent of our relationship. Plus, since I know things aren't going well between them, I don't want her to know about us.

- "Alexia?" my supervisor called.

- "Yes?"

- "If one night things get really bad for Ona, I want to be notified. You'll tell the instructor in charge of surveillance."

- "I can handle myself just fine," I retorted.

- "Be quiet; I'm not talking to you," she scolded me harshly. "I know you won't tell me. Can I count on you, Alexia?" she asked.

- "Yes, of course."

- "Good. I'm going back to my room now that everything's settled. Good night, girls."

- "Good night," Ale and I replied.

She closed the door behind her. I sighed and collapsed onto the bed. My break was short-lived, as I still needed to shower before crawling under the sheets.

Thursday, January 7th; 3:30 AM - Ona and Alexia's Room

I woke up to persistent shaking. I was completely disoriented. I looked around to get my bearings. I felt like I was suffocating, like I couldn't breathe. I realized what was happening when I saw Alexia's panicked face. She forced me to look at her by gripping my head between her hands. I felt sticky and tried to catch my breath as best I could.

- "Hey Ona! It's just me, calm down. Do you want me to call someone?

I shake my head slowly. I don’t want to disturb anyone else. I have no idea what just happened, but my condition doesn’t look good. Alexia nervously bites her lip. She doesn’t seem to agree with me.

- "I need to inform Bronze... She was clear about her orders..."

- "No," I almost shout. "It’s fine, I promise... D-don’t wake her for nothing."

- "Ona... It took me ten minutes to wake you up... You were really panicked, and you were almost screaming in your sleep. She made me promise to inform her... I don’t want to get on her bad side more than I already am! She’s my boyfriend’s best friend," she adds dramatically.

- "D-don’t call her," I insist. "I’ll deal with her when the time comes. I-I, it’ll be okay. You can go back to sleep."

- "No way. You were having a panic attack, weren’t you?"

I sigh and get out of bed. Alexia remains sitting while I search for a new pajama set in my wardrobe. She watches me until I’m in the bathroom. I change because my pajamas are soaked with sweat. I sigh as I lean against the sink. When I open my eyes, I see my roommate watching me intently from the doorway. She looks really worried, which only makes things worse.

- "I’m fine."

- "Don’t lie to me. Who’s Feli? You kept saying her name, telling her to stop."

- "Please keep this to yourself."

- "If you don’t tell me, I’ll find Bronze right now."

- "She’s my ex, nothing more," I concede. "And stop being afraid of her. She’s not that scary once you get to know her a little."

- "I didn’t know you were that close to her..."

I let out yet another sigh as I splash water on my face to clear my head. I then dry my face.

- "That’s not the case," I say, leaning against the sink.

- "I’m sure she knows more about this than I do. Am I wrong? You could have talked to me, you know. I wouldn’t judge you for being close to an instructor!"

- "Ale... It’s not like that. She’s just helping me get better, that’s all."

- "Should I go look for her?"

- "No, I’m fine."

- "You’ll talk to her about it tomorrow, then."

I groan but nod to appease her. I don’t plan to do it, but at least she’ll leave me alone. We leave the bathroom and return to our respective beds. Alexia quickly falls back asleep. As for me, I try not to think about my nightmare, which keeps replaying in my mind. I just had my first panic attack, and I wasn’t even awake. It’s the first time it’s happened to me. I hope it’s the last because I really don’t want to involve Lucy in this. She’s already taken enough care of me during the day, and I don’t want to disturb her during her sleep. I eventually manage to drift back to sleep a few minutes later.

[lycheedr3ams]

Death's Angel

Part 6: Escape

royal!fem!reader x executioner!konig

Summary: It's 1554. You're one of the eight daughters of the Austrian royal family, and your parents do everything they can to ensure their kingdom is prosperous and peaceful. No royal court is complete without their hand-picked executioner, one who stands out against the sea of black, faceless bodies that make up the profession. It just so happens that your family's new executioner, one who has made a name for himself far and wide for his skill with the axe, has caught your eye and ruined you for good.

Warnings: MDNI! smut, mutual pining, forbidden love, death (konig is an executioner duh), mean sisters, mentions of medieval-type violence, overbearing parents, konig is brooding and a perv, some predator/prey dynamics, possessive!konig, maybe dark themes bc reader likes seeing him kill people and bc he's a perv?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7

IMPORTANT NOTE: the taglist is getting too long for me to manage, so this will be the last post that I will have a taglist for. i appreciate all the support!!! just be sure to check my blog for future updates. if you aren't on the taglist but asked to be here, either i missed you or tumblr won't let me @ you also, we are nearing the end! I think this is gonna have 8 parts. thank you for your support!!!!

.......

series inspired by the art below!

konig's promise of taking you away at any moment you asked him weighed on you for weeks. the more you grew attached to him, the harder it was to hide your relations with him. you couldn't exactly go on proper dates in his cold, dark room in the castle basement. he couldn't take you on picnics, take you on carriage rides, or anything that any normal couple would do. you weren't a normal couple. you were a princess, and he an executioner. you two were never supposed to even speak with one another.

the one thing, the one romantic thing that you could do in his room, was dance with him. konig didn't know how to dance. he only knew the dance of an axe over the chopping block and how to sharpen its edges with stone. he was hesitant at first, but loved how close to you he could be. he was quite clumsy, and he'd frequently step on your toes every now and then. but each time he did it, you smiled.

"it's okay, konig. you'll get the hang of it," you'd say as you smiled up at him sweetly. he would quietly nod and furrow his brow in concentration as he danced with you.

his hand would be so gently laid on your waist, and his large hand on your shoulder grounded you and kept you in the moment. it didn't matter what mean thing your sisters had said to you, or the fact that you couldn't care less about your provincial duties. when you were with konig, when he was touching you, you were there, and that was all you knew.

but his hood always remained on. you asked him, once, if you could see his face, and all he answered with was a quiet "no" and you never broached the subject again.

...

"konig," you said to him after you two had danced and then made love. truly, made love. it was so soft, and he pressed so many kisses on your neck and boobs and back. konig always grew a little soft after you two danced.

"ja, liebe?" he asked as he gently stroked your hair.

"do...do you think we could...leave, soon?" you whispered as you gently balled up your fist.

his hand stopped in your hair for a moment, but he quickly resumed his gentle caresses. he breathed deeply. "it's as i said. say the word, and we go."

"i...i want to go soon, konig. i don't know where. just far from here."

"how soon?" he asked.

"next week," you said before he could even finish his question. this had been on your mind for so long. konig changed you, the night he asked what you would do if you weren't a princess. you'd been fantasizing about having your own cottage with him, being able to garden and tend to your animals everyday while he was a blacksmith, maybe, or a mercenary. the cathedral ceilings and polished dinner plates of your castle no longer appealed to you.

konig kept caressing your hair. "and how far?"

you gulped. "could we...leave the country? just go to a neighboring one. right near the border."

konig thought for a moment. "ja, we can. i know of a village just beyond the mountains. you will like it. i will build a house for you."

you smiled against his bare chest. "i'll build it with you, konig."

he shook his head gently as he squeezed you. "nein. i will build a house for you, by myself."

"if you insist," you said as you pressed a gentle kiss to his chest. "a house for us, konig. us."

konig was silent for a little while. you were growing worried, but he finally replied. "a house for us, meine Engel. i will build a house for us."

"i've already begun to stow away some of my savings," you whispered as if you feared the stone walls had ears. "we will be set for life."

"do not worry about that, Engel," konig said confidently. "i will take care of you."

"i know you will," you said gently. "but you'll be giving up your profession for me. i want to repay you in anyway that i can."

"there is no need for that," he said quietly as he held you closer. "you are worth more to me than all the riches in the world."

your heart fluttered as you closed your eyes and relaxed against him. your cheeks grew warm and you smiled.

"i love you, konig," you whispered as if it were the most normal thing in the world to say. once you processed what you just said, your eyes shot open, but your face stayed glued to his chest so that he couldn't see. you held your breath.

"and I love you, meine schatz," he said as he gently pressed a kiss to your head through his hood. you looked up at him with gleaming eyes, and he lifted his hood up slightly to kiss you.

you made love again that night. the words that had lingered in silence for so long had finally been spoken. he put you in missionary, focused entirely on your face as he filled you so gently yet so fully. his hard, smooth cock dragged slowly along your slick walls, and you moaned into his mouth as he kissed you.

"i will do anything for you, Engel," he rasped into your ear as he filled you. "i will take care of you."

"konig!" you moaned. you looked up at him, cock-drunk and in love. "i'm yours. i'm yours." a few tears escaped your eyes.

you kissed him again, and your fate with him was sealed.

...

a few days had passed since that night. the day you and konig were planning to run away was quickly approaching. you had packed a few things in a spare backpack, including the trinkets he gave you through the course of your relationship. you hid the gold entitled to you interspersed through socks and underwear in your backpack. you looked out the window of your bedroom out over the castle grounds, and felt resolved. you were ready to leave this life behind, and just be. with konig.

you got dressed in your room as normal, and made your way down to the banquet hall for breakfast. but when you reached the banquet hall, you found three of your sisters shouting to your parents. your other sisters sat as still as statues at the dining table. all heads turned towards you as you stepped in.

"what's going on?" you asked nervously.

"you harlot!" one of your sisters exclaimed. your mother and father looked like they had seen a ghost. you looked around, and the room was spinning.

"you've been sleeping with the executioner!" another sister yelled as she held up a black executioner's hood. that was one of konig's gifts to you, and you thought it would be kept it safe in your bedside table.

"you went in my room!?" you yelled.

"guards! get the executioner at once!" your father yelled. time began to move slowly. your sisters were screaming, the guards' metal armor clinked and clacked as they ran down to search for the executioner, your mother hugged you tightly in fear. but all you could think, the one thing that managed to keep you grounded in the ensuing chaos, was konig.

you thrashed out of your mother's embrace and ran faster than you ever had in your life to find him. the guards could run, but not as fast as you in their armor. you ran to the only place he would be at this time in the morning.

you burst through the castle doors and ran, panting, up to konig, who was sharpening his axe in the blacksmith's hut. he looked up at you happily at first, but his expression changed when he saw the tears flowing from your eyes.

"konig! konig! they know! they know!" you yelled as you panted. konig looked over you and saw half a dozen guards running towards him with swords drawn.

you looked up at him, your eyes wet and puffy, your dress wrinkled and heels broken.

"come," he said as he picked you up in one motion. you yelped, but held onto him as he ran towards the stables. the alarm bell was ringing in the castle as all guards now saw the executioner running off carrying a princess towards the only escape. your siblings and parents watched from the great porch with horrified expressions.

"i'm so sorry konig," you cried into his shoulder as he ran.

"shh, shh," he soothed between breaths. "i told you i would take care of you, didn't i?"

you nodded and gently squeezed him. you finally reached the stables, which had been unattended momentarily during the chase, and konig threw you on top of the biggest horse before putting on its bridle and getting on in front of you. there was no time to put on a saddle.

"hold on, Engel!" he yelled before smacking the reins against the horse's neck. you held onto his hard, tree-like torso as he kicked the horse with his heels, and it shot off through the stables. the guards that had made it to the stable doors were swept back as your horse sprinted through.

you looked behind and saw that there were now three mounted guards following you. "konig!"

he spurred the horse on faster, but the main castle grounds gate was already closed. "hold on, this will be bumpy!" konig yelled. he sharply turned the horse around and you flew over the castle grounds as he guided the horse towards the hidden exit behind the grounds, past the gardens. the guards' horses were fast, but no match for the bestial horse konig had chosen.

you buried your face in his back as the wind whipped by you and the ground rolled under your feet like waves. the alarm bells sounded louder over the grounds as panic rose, echoing against the stone walls of the castle, and screaming could be heard from servants out in the fields as you passed.

your horse jumped over the hedge at the edge of the grounds, the guards far behind, and you fled with konig through uncharted wilderness with nothing but the clothes on your backs.

taglist: @kneelingshadowsalome, @plumdreadful, @dumb-dumb-idiot-girl, @elichisstuff, @konig-breedme, @tr4psta, @cutiecusp, @konigsleftkidney, @local-vampire-s1ut, @ihaveaproblematicbrain, @twice360noscope, @madzeesstuff, @crazy-phan-girl13, @babygirl-panda19, @warrior-of-justice, @eluffi, @mooniesthings, @elowynnlane, @zaxlrza, @red-bed-bug, @alexdoesntlikeyou, @helmipss, @11aplacesange11, @rouge-swears, @pasta-m1lk, @ghostinvenus

[dewana]

"Die for you"

Syzoth x fem! Reader

Synopis: You’re on a mission with Syzoth, empress Mileena and Lord Liu Kang sent you both to investigate the sudden criminal activities happening on the outskirts of Sun Do.

3k words

Song: “Die for you”- Scott Bradlee’s postmodern jukebox

Warning: s m u t, minors dni

“Syzoth, what do you think is the cause of these riots?”

You were in a desert like place, it was the nighttime so the sun wasn’t as cruel. Little grains of sand crunched beneath your foot and you winced at the uncomfortable feeling. Few plants were in your line of vision only few cacti, which alerted you without plants your powers were useless. Of course you were skilled in hand to hand combat but it was better to be at full power when battling an unknown enemy.

“I do not know, my lady.” The reptile shifter answered not looking your way. You had a feeling he wasn’t fond of you, often avoiding your gaze or standing in the opposite side of the room. You were confused as to why he was behaving that way, have you upset him any way?

“There is no need to address me so formally, Syzoth.” You mumbled sheepishly, his gaze rested upon your face for a moment.

“You are Lord Liu Kangs paramour therefore your title is as such.” Your eyes widened at that statement.

Liu Kangs paramour? You wanted to laugh at that, he was your mentor nothing more. A quiet chuckle escaped your lips, you gently placed your palm on Syzoth’s shoulder.

“We are not lovers, he is sort of my boss… my mentor.” You explained, the tattooed man stopped dead in his tracks. He quickly turned around, his fist clenched at his sides. He had a rather serious expression, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line.

“You are not?” He asked again, and you shook your head affirmatively. He nodded quickly and resumed walking.

The rest of the walk was silent, the only noise was your feet shuffling on the ground. You did however catch a lot of subtle side looks from the reptile. Instead of walking ahead he walked along, helping you up a rock. Something changed within him after the conversation you two shared, you didn’t mind however that still hasn’t explained his past behavior.

“Syzoth have I done something to upset you?” You finally asked, the tension becoming unbearable, you fiddled with your fingers. He looked at you suprised.

“No not at all. Why do you think that?” He asked, you could feel roots growing along your ankles. Stress negatively affected your powers, they listened to your heart not your mind.

“Oh it’s just that, since we met you have been kind of avoidant of me? And I was wondering if I have upset you in some way? If i have I’m really sorry.” You mumbled, the roots tightening around your legs. Syzoth’s face held a warm expression, he scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat.

“You have done nothing wrong, it’s my fault actually. I thought that you and Lord Liu Kang were together and since he’s a god i did not want to make you uncomfortable or annoy you with my presence. I know that to many I am a freak and i did not want to scare you and disrespect Lord Liu Kang by being in your presence. A beautiful woman like you should not be forced to be in my presence, an ugly shifter.” He explained, eyes locked with the ground. You could not help the gentle laugh that escaped you, Syzoth raised his head at that.

“Oh, Syzoth” You mumbled and placed your palms on his cold ones. “You are very handsome, inside and out. You must not think so lowly of yourself, and I do not understand why you thought such things. I enjoy your presence.” You smiled and picked a small cacti that was dying on the sandy ground. You raised your hand above the small cacti and green light emerged from your palm, with your power the cacti grew stronger and greener, colorful flowers sprouted from the plant. “Even if you think of yourself lowly there are people like me that see the beauty in you, like this cacti. Someone noticed your potential and you grew into an honorable and kind man.” You handed him the healthy plant. He gently took the plant from your hands smiling slightly.

As you continued your journey you couldn’t help but ponder as to why he thought that he should erase himself from your presence if you were “with” Liu Kang. There was no point in overthinking the matter when you could just ask him.

“If you don’t mind answering I have a question.” Syzoth nodded “Why would me being with someone be so important that you avoid me?” You could see the man tense when the words left your lips.

“I um, I was infatuated with you the moment my eyes fell upon yours, but since I thought you were with someone the best thing for me to do was purge myself of those feelings and it was easiest avoiding you. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to contain myself, your beauty, your smile, how kind you are to everyone, how nice and warm you are.” He stopped immediately after muttering those words, you could see a little bit of a green hue on his cheeks. You couldn’t help but sprouting the same red hue on yours. You stared deeply into his eyes, he shyly gazed into yours.

“You liked me?” You asked stepping a bit closer to the man.

“Still do, my technique did nothing.” He admitted slightly embarrassed “I thought day and night about you, nothing really helped.”

"If now you know that I'm single will you act on your feeling?" You asked curiously.

"Would you like me to?" He responded his tone equally curious, you nodded you head slightly. Syzoth stepped even closer, your chests almost touching, he lowered his head so your foreheads were touching. You placed your hand on his cheek, he placed his much larger cold hand over yours, wanting to feel him even closer you pressed your lips against his. Syzoth melted in your hold, quickly becoming putty, his lips searched yours feverishly but before he could deepen the kiss you pulled away.

"After the mission is complete, If you want I can share my warmth with you." The reptile shifter nodded excitedly, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"Does that mean you're mine?" He asked hopefully.

"If you want me to be." Syzoth nodded eagerly.

You finally arrived at the rebel camps, you observed it from above a mountain, you laid on your stomach a knife in your hands, Syzoth turned invisible but was still close to you.

"100 to 150 tents filled with max 14 people over two thousand rebels." You spoke quietly to the earpiece that was connected to the current Umgadi on duty which was Tanya.

"Understood, do no engage in combat as of now, there is backup heading your way. Syzoth sneak into the camp and find out as much as you can about their plans." Tanya spoke through the intercom, you nodded at her orders.

Syzoths invisible hand tapped your shoulder signalising he was heading into the camp, you nodded and kept observing the camp. The leader, someone wearing the army's uniform that was enforced under Shao.

"Their leader is someone from Shao's army." You spoke to the intercom. "I do not know who he is but he's wearing an army uniform."

"That should not be possible, we interrogated and disposed of any survivors of Shao's unit." Tanya's voiced echoed in your ear

"Maybe he escaped and started to follow in the generals footsteps." You entertained that idea but it seemed foolish, Shao along with Reiko were defeated and killed for the crimes against Outworld.

"The reinforcements are in close proximity to your location, attack the camp but do not kill anyone, capture the so called leader and bring him to Sun Do before Empress Mileena."

You moved back from your current position to greet the aiding troops. Li Mei as their leader, you bowed with respect.

"First Constable" You said and hugged the woman, she returned the gesture and smiled warmly.

"Earth mage." She responded "Where is Syzoth?" She asked

"Spying I shall tell him to regroup." You turned from the woman and switched channels to Syzoths earpiece. "Syzoth? Regroup the aid is here and we attack once you return." The reptile shifter suddenly appeared next to you his invisibility fading.

With everyone ready you prepared a silent ambush to take the rebels by surprise. Injuring as little people as possible, Syzoth was behind you his invisibility once more in full effect.

You noticed three entrances that lead to the mountain protected camp, once all the troops entered you dug your heel into the rocky ground and raised your palms, the entrances were closed by walls of rock, alerting the rebels but before they could prepare the Sun Do police were already in the works.

You ran towards where you last saw the leader, a well built man with a helmet covering his head. He was walking towards the largest tent in the camp surely it belonged to him. You sealed of the exits with cacti roots and grabbed the man in a chokehold. He was a skilled fighter but you were even better, defeating him without breaking a sweat Syzoth reappeared at your side, tying up the man.

In this moment you felt a bit of relief flow through you, Syzoth and you were unharmed and you caught the vigilante. But that feeling was trampled when a second person emerged from the shadows, dagger in hand aiming for your back. In second Syzoth shielded you with his own body, when you regained your senses the man was trying to escape to notice that the exits were sealed off.

"Big mistake buddy" You said angrily, running towards him and kicking him in the side of his head, he fell on the ground instantly. Your roots wrapped around his limbs. "Tanya, target secured we're moving out." You notified the Umgadi and quickly moved to Syzoth who was clutching his side, green blood dripping from his fingers. He sat on the ground and you quickly kneeled next to him. "Show me." He reluctantly moved his palm revealing a nasty gash. You sucked in a breath and ripped a part of your sash to tie it around his abdomen. "Take off your shirt." You ordered

"I thought we're doing that after the mission?" He teased and sucked in a sharp breath as you tied the material around the wound.

"Unfortunately you're not a plant so I can't heal you but I'm sure the police have a medic with them. You'll be fine." You mused helping him up. "Li Mei everything taken care of?" You asked through the intercom.

"Affirmative, a few minor injuries but we're fine."

"I'm gonna need aid, Syzoth got stabbed but the target is secured."

Soon enough three of Sun Do's police arrived at the scene taking the target into custody, you helped Syzoth out of the tent and out of the camp.

Empress Mileena congratulated you both on a mission well done, granting you favour in her court. Syzoth was rushed to this room along with a doctor who would heal him, you went to visit him after sharing your report with Tanya and Liu Kang.

"Syzoth?" You asked after knocking on his door. You noticed the injured man laying beneath a heavy duvet only his eyes visible. "Cold?" You teased

The reptile avoided your gaze, shifting between the window and the door where you were standing. You noticed the uncared for plants in the corners of his room, with your magic you restored their healthy and vibrant forms. You sat on the corner of his bed, he refused to look at you, which saddened you.

"Syzoth what's wrong?" You asked placing you palm on his chest, he took a deep breath and tried to sit up to the best of his abilities. You helped him of course, placing a few pillows behind him for comfort.

"I do not want you to see me in this state." He whispered, his voice hoarse and sad.

"Why on earth shouldn't I see you in this state? You took a blow for me, I'm thankful." You scoffed, and awaited further explanation.

"I do not want you to see me weak, it is unbecoming of a potential mate." He quickly explained, the tips of his ears turning green.

You laughed at that, and climbed over Syzoth, he followed your every movement with curious eyes.

"You sacrificed your health for me, you protected me that is exactly what a mate does." You used his definition of a partner to help him understand better. "You're very hard on yourself, you didn't even have to protect me, I could take the blow." Syzoth very quickly sat on the bed with you in his lap, you combed through his short hair.

"I would die for you" He spoke seriously, his gaze stern and searching your approval.

"Don't die for me, live for me." You answered pressing your forehead against his. The reptile shifter basked in your warmth, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face hidden in your neck. You gently petted his hair then his back. You noticed the subtle goosebumps appearing on his skin. You felt his lips on your neck.

"Syzoth" You said breathlessly "You're injured, we shouldn't" You spoke not fully convincing yourself.

"You said you'd share your warmth with me once the mission is over." He argued pressing feather kisses to your jaw.

"I didn't take into account you could get hurt." You whispered against his lips. But before you could say anything more, he connected your lips silencing you. His hands roamed from your waist to your hips, you in turn wrapped your arms around his neck bringing him closer.

His tongue moved against yours, teeth clashing and subtle moans stained the air. You gripped his short hair and pulled his head away from you to catch your breath. In that moment Syzoth stared at you, eyes full of passion and lust. You could feel his groin stiffen under you, and you took in a sharp breath. Your hands found themselves on his broad chest, leaning in for another hungry kiss.

"Please beloved" He moaned in your ear, slightly grinding his hips against yours. You finally gave into the temptation, stripping your top and bottoms leaving you half naked in your lingerine. Syzoth was topples, his abdomen covered in white bandages, loose undergarments covered his manhood that was becoming more noticeable.

You smiled into the kiss but pulled away soon enough he whined at the loss of contact and warmth you provided his cold body. Pressing your palm to his chest, pushing him slightly so he would lay on the bed. You palmed him through his undergarments, applying just enough pressure to have Syzoth moaning breathlessly.

"Take them off." He eagerly followed your order, leaving him completely bare before you. His dick pink and leaking precum at the tip, twitching occasionally. You could barely wrap your hand around him, nonetheless you stroked his dick in a slow but firm motion. Syzoth reached towards you, pleasure already making him hazy. You took off your panties and tossed them behind the huge bed.

"Please wanna feel you, please." The reptile shifter begged glancing at you through half lidded eyes, his chest heaving with laboured breaths as pleasure coursed through his body. You obeyed his wishes and once again straddled him, his dick snugly fitted between your tighs and lips. Syzoth moaned at the warmth from your body so close to his dick. He sat up swiftly grabbing your ass, his head laid between your breasts and you couldn't help but giggle. You entangled you fingers into his hair, but quickly abandoned the soft gesture to take off your bra. Syzoth stared at your pebbled nipples, and quickly wrapped his lips around the left one, you moaned quietly slightly moving your hips against his erection. Syzoth shuddered at that, kissing your right breast.

You propped yourself up on your knees and grabbed his dick and aligned it with your entrance. Lowering yourself slowly on his girth, you bit back a groan of discomfort and pain that you felt at the new contact.

Syzoth moved his fingers to your clit and rubbed comforting circles on it, shocks of pleasure coursing through you and him. As the discomfort subsided you lowered yourself even more, Syzoth tried not to buck his hips up into you. When he finally bottomed out you started moving, riding him gave you great pleasure no doubt. He fit snugly in your velvety walls, rubbing all the right spots.

The shifter gazed at you lovingly, eyes scrunched up in pleasure, airy moans escaping your lips, breasts bouncing with each movement of your hips. He massaged them with his large cold hands, yours found themselves on his chest once more.

"Please baby, let me make you feel good." Syzoth spoke breathlessly stilling your movements, you cracked an eye open and nodded. He pulled out and flipped you on your back, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he re-entered you quickly, already missing your warmth.

"Can I move?" He asked once he bottomed out inside you.

"Yes please." You answered and leaned in to press your lips together, Syzoth began to roll his hips into your heat.

"Please Syzoth faster." You whispered, he obeyed and thrusted deeper and harder, placing one hand on the headboard, the other placed right behind your head.

You could feel the familiar knot forming in your abdomen, Syzoth noticing how you squeezed him, pressed circles into your clit, doubling the pleasure and quicken your upcoming orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum, Syzoth yes like that." You moaned your nails digging into his back, Syzoth himself could feel the knot in his abdomen almost snap but he wanted to make you feel good first.

"I'm almost there baby." He groaned, thrusting into you quicker his pace turning a bit sloppy and erratic indicating his near climax.

The change felt so good your eyes rolled back to your skull, body spasming and pussy fluttering around his dick. That was just what he needed to burst the knot in his abdomen.

"I'm cummin'" he groaned "Baby please let me" His chest heaved words not making sense. "Inside s'warm please" He begged and you nodded giving into the pleasure.

You could feel him spurting thick white ropes into your heat, he thrusted a few times to ride out his orgasm. He panted above you, brows scrunched and lips pressed together. A thin sheet of sweat covered you both, a distinctive aroma of sex filled his quarters.

"Can we stay like this?" He asked moving to lay beside you, his dick softening inside you. You nodded throwing your leg over his hip nestling him even deeper inside. Syzoth's head pressed onto your breasts you smiled and kissed the top of his hair. "I want to stay like this forever. You're so warm and wet and smell so good." He panted out the words, and you could feel something growing hard inside you once more.

[beepbeepsan]

Maybe 💘 or 🤍 for Joe/Nicky? Pretty please?

😘 I'll go with 🤍 milestone! It uh... kind of got away from me. Didn't even read it through again, so please excuse any mistakes.

Nicolo stands at the window and thinks about the slow growth of trees. 

It’s taken them a long time to get here. Years of travel, of walking and riding and sleeping beneath the stars. Months on the water, earning their keep up and down various coasts. Weeks to even leave sight of the city where this all began. The landscape has changed dozens of times. They’ve seen sand and sea, grassy plains and endless winds, damp climes and storms like the end of the world. And there isn’t a tree from here to Jerusalem whose name they haven’t bickered over, even once they wandered to places where neither spoke anything approaching the native language. 

Today, there’s a tree with a squat trunk and wide, curved leaves shading the window from which Nicolo watches. It could be a century old. Or fifty years. Or two hundred. He doesn’t know how quickly they grow, out here in this land far from his home. Far from either of theirs. 

What he does know is that the two of them have begun to grow together over these years. As trees slowly grow around and consume anything permanently in their way, Nicolo feels himself being wrapped, inexorably, in Yusuf. He feels his own roots changing direction, stretching out deep into the unknown, seeking parts of his companion to anchor around. 

What will they be like in another year? In ten? Fifty, even? Surely anyone looking at them will know how intricately, inseparably entwined they are. Two souls forever linked by this shared miracle they have yet to find answers for. Even if they branch out on different paths, the places they’ve fused will remain intact. 

A single leaf flutters to the ground, disturbed by a gust of wind. 

“Yusuf,” Nicolo says quietly, without moving. 

A questioning noise comes from the other side of the small, one-room cottage. 

“Do you think we will live to be as old as this tree?” 

Yusuf is silent for just long enough to join him at the window. He stands close, his chest brushing Nicolo’s back, and he says, “I think if we do, we will be wise enough to stop worrying about things we cannot change.” 

Nicolo leans back so his weight rests in part against Yusuf’s chest. It’s a liberty he is still learning how to take. 

“I am not worrying,” he says. 

“No?” Yusuf rests a hand on Nicolo’s hip. A casual gesture he too is still learning to offer. 

“No. I am thinking about time.” 

“Mm.” 

They fall quiet again, unconcerned by the now familiar ebbs and flows of their conversations. Yusuf’s thumb swipes tiny circles into a soft patch of skin at Nicolo’s side, just beneath his shirt. Their breath falls into sync with the breeze and the rustling of leaves. 

“Do you know how long it has been since we met?” Nicolo asks eventually, tentative moreso on this subject than most. It has not been nearly long enough to erase the bloodied shame of those memories. 

Yusuf’s thumb pauses for a heartbeat before resuming its path. “I know,” he says, pressing closer so his beard just brushes against the back of Nicolo’s bared neck, “how long it has been since our swords last met in anger.” 

Nicolo exhales silently, waiting. 

“I know how long it has been,” Yusuf continues, “since we turned west instead of north, and since we turned north instead of west, and every direction before that.” 

A curl of Nicolo’s mouth is the only indication he offers that he’s listening. He trusts that Yusuf understands. Trust had to be learned first: the foundation of everything between them. The ground from which they grow. 

With a whisper of beard hair on skin, lips press warmly at his nape. Once, and twice. 

Yusuf says into his neck, “I know how long it has been since I last kissed you.” 

“Three moments?” Nicolo replies with a smile in his voice. 

“Too long.” 

He laughs, low and charmed. “And since you first kissed me?” 

“Do you mean since you first kissed me?” Yusuf lets out a little sigh, straightening again. “Let me think.” 

Nicolo watches the fallen leaf skip to a new resting place on the ground. It flips over and flies a short distance, then settles again. He wonders how a tree decides when to grow its rings; he thinks about by which milestones he might mark his own lifetime. 

“Six years,” Yusuf says then, his tone bright with surprise. “Has it been that long?” 

“I trust your memory.” Nicolo turns away from the window, from the tree with its unknowable age and the leaf that travels where the tree cannot go. He looks into Yusuf’s deep brown eyes and presses a hand over his, upon his own hip. “Six years, then. Not so long by some scales.” 

Yusuf nods solemnly. “The tree would scoff at our youth.” 

“And yet,” Nicolo says, choosing his words carefully. “And yet, just over six years ago, I would have thought this impossible. This, standing here with you.” 

His face softening, Yusuf leans in to press their foreheads together—an affectionate gesture that began some time before they first kissed. “And yet,” he agrees, his breath brushing over Nicolo’s mouth. “Perhaps one day we will make the trees feel young, you and I.” 

Nicolo’s heart swells in his chest, but he has no words to ease the pressure. He thinks no longer of the trees. In this moment, it feels as though the two of them will still be here after everything else is gone. 

Their lips meet in a sweet kiss, and Nicolo lets himself wrap a little more tightly around Yusuf. 

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story - pt 31 The Void Between - END

Last part. (Although I do plan for at least one or two side parts. One definitely from Liam's perspective. Maybe one from Adonis if I feel like it).

Guys, I started this story forever ago. Took a huge break when my life fell apart. I picked up the pieces, and never really thought I would get back to doing the things I love again. But here I am. Finishing this story. I'm so excited.

Please enjoy.

Masterpost linked here.

________________________________

“System!” I shouted into the white void, one hand still holding Liam’s tightly. “Stop hiding!”

THUD

Adonis had fallen to the ground, released from my power that had bound him. He stood up shakily, wiping a small amount of blood from the corner of his mouth. “Where did you take me?” He demanded angrily. “Where is this place?”

“This?” I looked around with a slight smile. “This place is the End.”

“The End?”

I thought for a moment. “Or perhaps the Beginning? It depends on your point of view, I suppose.” I gestured around at the blank whiteness around us “This is the void between, outside of the lower and higher realms, outside of stories. There is nothing here... nothing except memories.”

Liam stood protectively near me. “Where is the System?”

“It’s here. It’s watching. It just doesn’t want to admit that it lost. It views me as weak, pointless…”

Blue flames streaked out from out of sight towards my head. Sensing the magical attack, I dodged and waved a hand, countering it with my own power.

“YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE”  The bright blue words briefly appeared in the void, then disappeared just as fast, leaving nothing but an afterimage behind.

“BEL!” Liam had fallen when I dodged, and reached towards me, panicked.

“It’s okay. That was just a test.” With a grunt of pain, I stood back up again. “REALLY?” I spoke out again. “A sneak attack? Are you really that pathetic?” There was no answer, the System was hiding again.

“Hey!" Adonis had recovered from his shock, and resumed being a pest. “Bel! Tell me what’s going on, now!”

I didn’t even look in his direction. “No.”

“What?! What do you mean, no?!”

"I mean: 'No'." Still looking for any trace of the System, I cast a sympathetic glance towards Liam. “Poor guy.”

Liam caught on quick. “Don’t worry, Bel, I’ll help him!” He cleared his throat, turning towards the enraged hero. “’No’ is an English word used to give a negative response. In this case, the word ‘no’ would indicate a refusal to your request for more information. Similar sounding words, such as ‘know’ with a ‘k’ can sometimes be confused depending on the context clues, but that word is generally used to indicate knowledge rather than refusal. So if she had said ‘I know’ instead…”

“SHUT UP!” Adonis screamed, swinging at fist at Liam, who let him punch him in the chest without any apparent pain. Adonis instead withdrew his hand with a screech, one of his fingers clearly bent at a weird angle.

“Your chest breaks fingers?” I asked with a raised brow.

Liam pulled his collar down, showing off a coat of black scales with a grin. “Dragon skin is tough. Also known as the ‘idiot-tax’.”

During this exchange, I continued searching with my power, trying to feel the system’s presence. “Seems fair.”

“Why is it hiding?” Liam asked quietly.

“It doesn’t want to face the truth.” At my answer, Adonis stopped groaning and looked insulted.

“Why do you answer HIS questions and not MINE?”

“Because he’s my husband… and you’re annoying.” I turned to Liam. “Are you curious?”

Liam smiled at my question. “Very.”

“Then I’ll explain it to you as we go.” I looked around again, sensing that the System had hid itself. “It’s hiding within this space, and so I’ll need to force it out. Since it wants to hide the truth, I’ll show exactly that: the truth." 

My power swept around us, filling everything.

"It all started here. In this void.”

The world around us changed, showing infinite portals, each leading to a new world, glowing with various degrees of golden light.

“There are infinite stories, and therefore infinite lower realms.  Some are stable, filled with energy… some are unstable, collapsing, draining energy from the realms around it.” As I spoke, some of the weaker portals flickered and died. “Each time a world collapsed, the entirety of the lower realms was at risk, a collapse of a universe of worlds and people.”

The golden light of the portals coalesced, forming a vague being of bright blue light. “The System came into being. It's exact origin is unclear. Was it created, another product of the authors or gods beyond our existence that write the stories? Was it just a random event, too much energy organizing into a sentient being?” I stepped closer to the glowing blue figure, staring up at it. “It’s impossible to know. But I do know one thing:”

The figure peered into a portal as it flickered and disappeared. It stared at the empty space for a few moments before shrugging and moving on to the next. “The System isn’t human. It has no understanding of human emotions, motivations, or relationships. It can read the stories, it can see the unfulfilled wishes of the author, but it cannot truly understand why some stories worked and others collapsed.”

Adonis stared at the figure I showed them, a look of frustration and anger creeping across his face. Liam watched with curiosity. They both stayed silent, however, and the System stayed in hiding, so I continued the story.

“The system depends on the survival of the lower realms, but it could not figure out how to save the stories that were disappearing. So it looked for a human partner, someone who could help it figure out what to do.”

The world around us changed again, and we were standing on a college campus. It was a bright sunny day, with students milling about, chatting, laughing, carrying books. We stood in the midst of everything, unseen by the people around us, unable to touch or affect anything we could see. Adonis, recognizing the area, turned pale, trembling as he stood rooted in place. “No.” He whispered. “This is impossible. This isn’t real.”

I smiled at him, but it wasn’t a pleasant expression. “Of course it isn’t real. This is a memory of the System. No one can travel to this lower realm anymore. It’s destroyed… thanks to you.”

“NO.”

As I searched the memory around us, I could sense the memory... and the System... nearby. “Let’s go.” I grabbed Liam’s hand and ran forward, rushing through the crowds, following the lead that only I could feel. After a brief hesitation, Adonis ran after us.

“The system sensed that someone had broken free from the confines of a story.” I spoke as we moved. All around us there were college students milling about, talking laughing with carefree attitudes. “What had been stable, had become broken, and it was all because of a single individual.”

I pulled Liam to a stop in front of two people, studying both of the figures in the memory with interest.

One was a handsome young man with a playful grin and long hair pulled back with a cord. He was facing another young man, who looked extremely angry.

The other young man was Adonis.

As we looked back and forth between the Adonis in the memory and the one that had followed us through the void, the Adonis next to Liam and I stepped closer, staring at his doppelganger with a weary, contemptuous expression.

“She loves me!” The memory Adonis spoke out. “Stop getting in the way!”

“You know that isn’t right, Adler.” The young man answered with a sigh. “Just because you two grew up together, doesn’t give you ‘dibs’ on her. You two are friends. Ara is my girlfriend.”

Liam raised an eyebrow as we watched the scene around us play out. “Adler?”

“His real name.” I glanced over at Adonis, who looked away. “He changed it to Adonis after he left this lower realm.”

“He CHOSE Adonis?”

“He thought it sounded more heroic.”

“Poor guy.”

“Save your pity.” I pointed back to the memory around us, where Adonis continued to argue with the other college student. Eventually, a young woman walked up, giving a hug to the other man and eyeing Adonis warily.

“Bel…?” Liam sounded concerned and confused, and I didn’t’ blame him.

After all, the woman looked just like me.

It wasn’t exact. There was a bright cheery innocence that this girl carried around her. A naivete, as if she would  believe whatever someone told her. Nice, but gullible. She very much lacked my distrustful glares and heavy sarcasm. But the face, body, hair…. All of the outer features were the same.

“It’s not me.” I reassured Liam, who watched the girl with my appearance kiss the college student with a low disgruntled growl. “It’s Arabella. The heroine of this lower realm.”

Adonis stared intently at the woman, obsession in his eyes. “MY heroine.”

“Nope. Not yours. Because you weren’t the hero of your story, were you, Adonis?”

The argument between the three in the memory grew heated. Adonis… Adler… tried to grab Arabella’s hand, and she pulled away with a frustrated expression.

“You were the friend, the side character, the witness to the main romance of the story. But you were unwilling to play that role… to accept your fate.”

“IT WAS NOT MY FATE!” Adonis reached out, but his hand passed through the memory of Arabella. “I WAS THE HERO! I WAS THE ONE SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO LOVE!”

The Adonis in the memory had gone quiet. He reached into his coat, and pulled out a long knife, lunging forward, stabbing the young man and woman in front of him. Only when they were still on the ground, their bodies soaking in the blood pooling beneath them did he seem to recognize what he had done. He fell to his knees, screaming, as the world around his began to distort.

“You broke the story, killed the hero and heroine… and this caught the attention of the System.”

A glowing blue figure appeared in front of the blood-stained Adonis, words appearing around him.

"YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE THE STORY."

I looked down at the dead body on the ground with the same face as me, letting out a quiet sigh. “The two of them made a deal. Adonis would be pulled out of the lower realm, become a higher being. He would help the System in fixing the broken lower realms.”

The Adonis in the memory considered for a brief moment, and nodded. As he and the System disappeared, the world they had left behind began to collapse.

“There’s always a cost, though. If you take someone out of a lower realm… the realm is destroyed as a result.” My eyes met Adonis’ as he watched the memory of the deal he made with a dispassionate gaze. All the emotion that had boiled over at the sight of Arabella had faded, and there was nothing, not even remorse. “You knew you were destroying the world if you left. And you did it anyways.”

“They did nothing for me.” His voice was quiet, but vitriol in it was clear. “I should have been the hero of that world… they didn’t deserve survival.”

“Just like Arabella deserved death for not loving you?” At my question his eyes flickered, but he quickly regained calm. “She didn’t die. After all, you’re here, aren’t you?”

“I’m not Arabella, Adonis. No matter the physical resemblance.” I smiled. “I’m something much more…”

Another blast of blue flames again came towards me. I pushed back with my own power, defending myself. My magic swept through from the direction the blast had came from, trying to strike back, but it had already disappeared once again.

“Oh you didn’t like that, did you? Are you mad enough to stop hiding, or should I keep talking?”

There was only silence in response. I chuckled grimly, continuing the story.

“Adonis was the one who thought of binding the lower realms to the higher realms. By having the heroes of the lower realms be connected to Adonis, by having him control them and their endings through these ties he called fate, he thought he could influence all of the stories at once, helping them reach a happy ending.” I paused. “How funny that the man who was chosen because he broke free of his fate, chose to bind everyone else even tighter.”

The portals showed up around us again, losing their glow and flickering out at a noticeable pace. “But it didn’t work. The lower realms were failing faster than ever. You contaminated all of the heroes with a part of you, they took on a part of your personality, your obsessive desire with being the center of the universe.”

I thought of all the heroes I had met in the lower realms, how they reacted with the story around them changed. Even kinder heroes like K’lliean in the elven world had shown signs… he almost cracked and tried to force me to be with him when he sensed me pulling away. They all had pieces of Adonis forced on them, tying them to an even worse fate then the broken stories once had.

“Out of desperation, Adonis suggested a new plan. It wasn’t enough to have a prototype ‘hero’ to bind everyone to. They needed a new prototype, a second higher level being.” I hesitated, seeing the realization and pain on Liam’s face but forcing myself to continue. “They needed a villain.”

The world around us changed again, and now we were in a beautiful green world with bright open skies. The System remained hidden, so I continued talking, hoping to goad it into showing itself once again.

“Adonis had always been a fan of fairy tales. Knights, princesses, and the evil monster that kidnapped her: the dragon.”

Dragons flew overhead with roars that shook the earth below. The world was filled with the mighty creatures, flying, fighting, sleeping. Simply existing in this beautiful realm. And right next to us was a large silver dragon, patiently teaching a smaller black one.

Liam stepped closer, tears running down his face. “Grandfather.” His hand passed through the larger form, his hand tightening into a fist.

“They searched though all of the lower realms with dragons, and within one found a young black coated dragon that they felt could be molded into what they needed.”  I continued to speak, watching Liam closely. “The System tried to offer a deal, promising power and domination over all the lower realms.”

A blue figure pulled the small dragon away, obviously trying to convince it of something. The young dragon shook his head in response.

 “But the dragon said no. He loved his world, his family. He didn’t want to leave, no matter what was offered to him.”

The dragon was enveloped in blue fiery light, disappearing with an inhuman screech of terror. The world around us, similar to Adonis’ world before it, crumpled into itself, fading away into nothing.

My voice dropped to a whisper. “The price of removing someone from the lower realms is always the same, whether they want to leave or not. The young dragon’s world… his family… was destroyed.” I reached out and hugged Liam, who was wracked with silent sobs as he watched his home realm disappear.

“I’m sorry.” I tightened my arms around him, feeling a deep pain within as he slowly composed himself. I was using this story to push the System, to make it angry enough to appear. But I had another motive as well. I wanted Liam to understand everything. To see this. He had the right to know the full truth.

The truth of what I was.

The picture around us faded, showing the young black dragon now in the Villain’s realm, surrounded by forest. He looked around, obviously lost and confused.  Words appeared in the sky before him.

YOU ARE THE VILLAIN.

The dragon shook his head no.

YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE.

A portal appeared and chains shot out, binding the dragon and dragging it into a lower realm. The sight was heartrendingly familiar, and I had to take a deep breath, steadying myself to continue.

“They tried to mold the dragon into the villain they needed. The plan was to force the dragon into multiple realms, placing him as the villain of the story. If he refused to play his part? The realm would be destroyed. The dragon was too kind hearted, and eventually became resigned to sacrificing himself, story after story, realm after realm. Saving the realms but losing himself. The system tied the dragon to the villains of the lower realms, in the bonds of fate, but if anything, that made things even worse.”

The portals in the void reappeared, now most of them becoming unstable and flickering, even previously brightly glowing ones were slowly becoming dim.

“Your plans had brought this whole universe to the brink of destruction, and still Adonis refused to believe that his strategy was wrong. It’s just that the prototype story… the higher realm story… was incomplete.”

I turned towards Adonis, who was glaring at me with unbridled rage. “The knight, the dragon… and now you needed the princess. You were a hero missing your heroine. And so, you told the System to bring you your heroine.”

“Don’t…” Adonis finally spoke up again, but the word was forced out between clenched teeth.

“What? Don’t tell the truth?” I shook my head. “It’s not your secret to hide. It’s my truth to tell.”

“Stop!” He rushed forward, but my dark power wrapped around him again, holding him in place.

“Shush. I’m trying to explain my mysterious origins here.” I sat him down on the ground with my magic, and turned to Liam. I felt nervous, a desperation welling up within me. I wondered as I started to speak again if this is how he felt when I found out he was a dragon. It turned out he didn’t need to worry.

I wasn’t human either.

“Adonis would only accept one heroine.”

“Arabella.” Liam added, watching me carefully.

“Exactly. But that left the system with a problem. Arabella was dead. Even if she survived the stabbing, the entire lower realm had been destroyed by bringing Adonis out. It tried to convince him, but he grew only more desperate. He couldn’t accept the truth.”

I paused, taking a deep breath. “So the system did the only thing it could: it tried to make a new Arabella.”

“But that means…” Liam looked confused, but as realization started to dawn, I ran forward and tackled him.

“GET DOWN!”

The entire space imploded. There was nothing but blue fire, drowning everything. There was no noise, no heat. There was only magic destructive power. It lasted for what seemed like an eternity, and then slowly faded.

I lifted my head. An enormous being was wrapped around me, protecting me. Liam, who had shifted to his dragon form, continued to shield me, his dark blue eyes looking over me carefully, filled with concern, checking for injuries. I withdrew the magic I had used to protect us both, but I still saw a few burned spots in his scales here and there. Touching his scales with a regretful expression, I whispered. “Sorry.”

I had been goading the system, waiting for it to make its move, but as I told Liam the truth, my attention had shifted for a short moment. And in that moment, the System who had been biding its time, made its move.

“As long as you are safe.” Liam’s reply made me smile. We stared at each other for a few moments, both happy the other was okay.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU DESTROY HIM?!” Adonis’ voice destroyed the special moment. At least he's consistently annoying.

Liam rolled his eyes, the expression a bit strange on a dragon. “How did he survive the fire?” He asked me.

I thought it over, and winced. “My bad, my power was already wrapped around him to hold him down when the System attacked… I must have accidentally protected him.”

“It’s okay, we all make mistakes.” Liam nodded solemnly and comforted me.

“Yeah, maybe next time he’ll get burned to a crisp.”

“You know… I am a dragon… I could help us achieve that goal.”

“Tempting…” I started to respond, but Adonis started shouting again.

“System! Now’s your chance! Destroy the monster!” He pointed at Liam, his face triumphant as he commanded him. “And then we can fix Arabella, and start over with a new villain. We will make the story right, correct everything that is wrong, and retie the strings of Fate to save the universe!”

“…” There was something new that had joined us in this space between realms. A vaguely human shaped being made of blue flames. As it spoke, its voice was neither young or old, soft or deep, it was deeply disturbingly inhuman. The words it spoke appeared in front of us, scrawled across the sky, a reminder of its power.

“YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE.”

“System! Destroy it!” Adonis screamed impatiently.

“…” There was no response.

“It can’t.” I finally spoke up, calmly. “It doesn’t want to risk attacking Liam anymore. It had its only chance with that sneak attack and it failed. Facing me head on… there’s no way it can win easily.”

“I don’t understand. The System… it creates fate… it’s a god!”

“You are the one that doesn’t understand. I know what the System is, Adonis, much better than you do." I took a deep breath.

"After all… I’m a part of it.”

In the silence that followed I heard the soft sound of Liam’s sigh as understanding dawned. My heart beat nervously, but I continued to explain.

“The system couldn’t resurrect Arabella, so it split off some of its own power, a new entity that remained only with a limited connection. It used Adonis’ memories of Arabella as a template, but it could never be exact. From the moment of its creation, the created being would grow and change based on new experiences, meetings… to become something new, beyond the confines of what others wanted.”

“YOU WERE AN ERROR.” The system’s inhuman voice was cold.

“I was the only effective thing you’ve ever done to save the lower realms.” Was my even colder response.  

“No… you’re Arabella.” Adonis was stuttering, staring at me with horror.

“You always knew I wasn’t her, Adonis." I sighed. "The only thing I can thank you for was that when the system used your memories of a template, it used data, rather than your perception of her. Rather than a perfect heroine deeply in love with you, it created a young woman with a thirst for adventure and learning… and no romantic interest in you whatsoever.”

The system stepped closer, and Liam’s wings spread out widely, protectively.

“THE DEAL IS INVALID. YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE.”

“The deal is already done, System. You lost.” I waved my hand, and my power formed into the shape of a sword. It always was my preferred weapon. “If you won’t concede that I won willingly… Then I’ll make you by force.”

As I circled closer, the System stood still, confident. “YOU CANNOT KILL ME. YOU ARE ME!”

I smiled. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

My sword swung, and a limb fell to the ground, disintegrating into blue flame. I held my blade at its neck and it froze.

“I WAS you. But the deals we made changed everything.”

The world around us changed again. The System buzzed with energy, trying to fight it, but I pushed through.

It was time to finish the story.

Liam continued to stand guard, watching Adonis and the System carefully. As my power took over, the world I was showing became clear:

It was me. I was in the villain world, laying on the ground pale and sweating. I was dying.

“After I was created, I only tried to save the lower realms one by one. I refused to listen to Adonis' plans. In his frustration, he tossed me into the villain realm to force me to submit. It was his way of continuing the prototype story. The dragon keeping the princess captive. But Adonis and the System didn’t count on one thing:"

In the vision I showed, Liam in his human form knelt beside me, his expression despairing as he gently wiped the sweat from my forehead. I held his hand, my eyes focused on him and no one else. Adonis stood nearby, ignored by both of us in the memory, watching with a hateful, weary expression.

“I decided I would rather die in the villain realm, die by my husband’s side, rather than submit to the horrible fate you and the System had devised.”

The System in the memory appeared next to human Liam, pushing him aside, and approaching the dying Bel. Liam screamed with fear and rage, trying to return to his dragon form, but was frozen into place half-transformed.

“YOU CANNOT DIE.” The system’s inhuman voice was quiet, but deafening at the same time.

The memory Bel forced a smile. “Better dead and free than trapped by your chains.”

“I CANNOT LET YOU DIE. IT WOULD DESTROY ME, DESTROY EVERYTHING. BUT YOU REFUSE TO LIVE… WE ARE AT AN IMPASSE.”

“Then how about we make a wager?” The weakness in her voice couldn’t hide the determination of her words.

I looked at the System, still held in place at the point of my sword. “So, we made a deal. I would travel the realms, save them, gather the energy from each of the recovered worlds.”

In the memory, blocks of text appeared in front of the dying Bel. She read through the deal with a frown. I watched the vision, shaking my head in frustration.

“The stakes were clear. If I could save enough worlds… could build enough power, separate from the System, I would be able to break free from the ending of this prototype story. To write my own fate. But… if I failed even one… the System would take all the energy I gathered, and I would be forced to submit to the fate designed to me. To be a mindless, soulless heroine, playing her role and nothing else.”

“Foolish.” Adonis was standing, glaring at me with blood shot eyes. Liam growled in response, placing his enormous form between us, but Adonis ignored him, continuing to speak. “You just had to agree to be a heroine, and we could have saved everyone together. Instead, you risked everything, left an unstable universe to try to save it world by world.”

“I chose to remain free. To not enslave these worlds to fate.” The System sensed my distraction and tried to strike, and so I pressed my sword of magic forward, dripping flames from the cut in its shapeless neck.

“The deal was designed for me to fail.” Again the picture around us changed. It was still me, but in many different forms. A student. An assassin. An elf. World after world, flipping faster and faster until it was a visual blur.  “You chose miserable roles for me.  I had no memories, no knowledge of the story except what was provided for me. I was alone… or I was supposed to be.”

Another change. Now the System in the memory was talking with Liam. As he watched the memory, Liam beside me shook his head, as if trying to clear it.  

“Liam had nothing the system wanted but his status as a villain. If I lost, he would play the perfect villain. No shortcuts, no mercy for the weak…become a puppet for the system. But the system wanted more.”

Text appeared in front of Liam in the memory. As the nature of the deal became clear, the real Liam beside me let out a moan.

“A sacrifice.” His voice was filled with pain, barely audible. “Every lower realm I had saved in the past by playing my role. How many worlds would that be? Countless lives. Innocents.”

“The System would absorb them for energy if we lost.”

“It asked for my soul. Saving those worlds by letting myself be defeated or killed in those realms was all that I could cling to when I was despairing. If I sacrificed them… “ He paused, his dragon eyes showing despair. “It wouldn’t have to brainwash me to become a villain. I would have already taken that step myself.”

“Liam would be given the chance to follow me. His memories wiped each time. He would have no idea who I was or how to help me. He would as always be the villain in the story. A bad deal.” The Liam in the memory agreed, and disappeared. “ I glanced at Liam beside me. “But you took it anyways, desperate to help me, to stay by my side. Even though you would more likely end up a mindless, soulless slave.”

“I would never abandon you, Bel. Not if there was any chance I could help you.”

"You did." I reassured him. "I had nearly given into despair by the time you joined me. You gave me purpose, helped me forward. I would have been lost, along with everything else." I glanced over at Adonis who was shaking in rage.

“Adonis made a deal too, of course, but much different from ours. He wanted to follow, but wanted his memories, wanted to know the full story. The System only allowed him limited access, into a few worlds. It worried that if Adonis followed me everywhere I would be motivated to resist longer, as I had in the higher realms before.”

Adonis in the memory accepted a deal, and disappeared as well. There was only the system left.

“You thought I would give up, or that I would fail to fix a world. I was supposed to accept my fate. Instead, I refused. I resisted. I fixed every single world I went to. I won. Which brought us back to the higher realm.”

“NO.” The system beside me pushed back with all of its power, erasing the memory I had shown around us. I tried my best to shield Liam and I, but as I concentrated on my own dark magic, I heard someone running up behind me.

“You ruined everything!” Adonis had a knife, trying to slash at my back as he drew closer. The System kept attacking, forcing all of my attention on it. I was helpless to stop the attack from the hero.

Fortunately I wasn't alone.

A dragon tail swung out, knocking Adonis a fair distance where he fell to the ground with a crunch. He lay still, his hand grabbing at the hilt of his knife where it protruded from his side after he landed on it.

“How…?” He touched the blood spilling from the wound, shocked.

“You brought it on yourself.” Liam growled. “Also, why is your only response to rejection stabbing? You seriously need better coping mechanisms.”

I laughed, but couldn’t lose focus on the battle at hand. I turned to the system, who had stopped attacking “Now that this story is done, all bets are complete.” I waved a hand, a wave of dark power covering the void around us.

Liam’s eyes blinked, and then cleared, a sense of timelessness within them. He rubbed his head against me. “Bel. You did it.”

I smiled.  “Thanks to you.”

Adonis had changed as well. His face was pale, then red with anger, then pale again as he continued to lose blood from his side. “You cheated, System! You promised I would keep my memories! How did…”

“It wasn’t the system, Adonis.” I interrupted. “This last story, us repeating the Higher Realm… it was me. I gained power because I wanted a different ending to OUR story, and this is the ending I chose. Not one with me dying in the villain realm, with Liam and I accepting a terrible deal in a desperate attempt to save one another. A better ending.”

Adonis struggled to his feet, sneering. “So what? THIS is it? Your so-called happy ending? You become a villainess instead of a heroine and get to stay in the villain realm with that monster? Big deal.” He spat on the ground, the spit mixed with blood from the wounds on his mouth. “The System and I will find a real heroine. Not a FAKE one like you. We’ll restart the story, and fate will save us all, with the villain and villainess being destroyed!”

I laughed. A true, villainess cackle. It echoed in the vast emptiness of the Void, seeming to go on for ages.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Who told you my goal was to be the villainess?”

The System began flickering, like a candle going out.

“YOU MUST ACCEPT…”

“My goal was to be the new System.” I swung the sword in my hand, and the already fading system fell to pieces. “To destroy fate itself.”

The last of the blue flames fizzled out with a soft sound. If an inhuman machine-like existence could sigh with relief, I would have sworn that is what I heard. The System was gone.

There was only me left.

Adonis screamed at my actions. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

“I gained enough power in my travels to be fully independent of the System. That is why it feared me. Why it tried to destroy me in the end. But now its gone. As is your foolish fate.”

“Every realm will be destroyed! Without a prototype… without a guide… all of those worlds will be lost!”

“No Adonis.” I stepped closer to him, and he shuddered in fear at the power I wielded, moving backwards. “Those worlds will be free. Some strong, some broken and needing help. But I’d rather spend the rest of my existence helping worlds one by one then ever attempting what you and the System tried to do.”

“It’s impossible to save them all!” He hissed, his voice cracking with pain and terror.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t keep trying.” I shrugged, looking over at Liam. “I hope you don’t mind, dear. He’s not wrong when he says it’s an impossible task.”

“Traveling with you to different realms for all eternity? How horrible for me.” Liam laughed. “Now there’s fate I can get behind.”

I turned back to Adonis. “You see… he’s fine with it.”

“I’ll have to make a sling to carry future eggs if we’re always going to be traveling…” Liam muttered to himself. I ignored him, continuing to stare at the former hero.

“So what now, Bel?” He scowled. “Are you going to kill me? Torture me? Your villainous plans don’t scare me!”

“I don’t have to do any of that, Adonis… or should I say Adler?” A villain laugh sounded out again. “You have much to answer for: How many have you killed in your quest to be a ‘hero’? How many have lives have you destroyed in your desire to impose fate on the lower realms?" He shook his head, trying to deny my words, but it was too late.

"Killing you? No. I have a much better ‘fate’ in store for you:” Reaching out, my dark power curled around him, healing his wound from his side and lifting him up in the air

“You will be banished to a lower realm. To live out your days as an insignificant side character.”

His eyes widened with shock. “NO! YOU CAN’T!!!”

“By day, you will remember nothing… but every night, your memories of the higher realms will be returned to you, just enough so you can always live in regret for what you have done.”

“NO!”

I looked at the man I had once thought of as a friend.

“You always told me to accept my fate. Well now, you must accept YOUR fate, Adonis. Goodbye.” My power covered him, and he disappeared, forever.

Only Liam and I were left.

“Soo…” I looked up at the dragon. “No issues with me being a multidimensional being, whose origin comes from a homicidal fate-obsessed system?”

Liam’s serpentine face grinned, and with a brief covering of smoke he turned back into a human. “No problems here!” He reached out and hugged me. “So what now? We travel the lower realms? Save worlds?”

“Yeah, but Liam…”

“So many different weddings to plan…” He rested his chin on the top of my head. “I wonder if we can visit old worlds? I’d love to let the Blood Wolves celebrate with us.”

“I think that could be arranged… Liam…”

“Yes, Bel.” his deep blue eyes shining with joy as they met my own.

“Can you put on clothes, first?”

He looked down at his naked human form, and then back up at me, hugging me tighter. “Sorry, I don’t have extra clothes in the void.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Where did my shy and modest dragon go?”

“He remembers at least four different weddings we’ve had in different worlds.” His smile widened. “Now that we’re finally alone, no spying system, or stalking heroes… I feel like we have very important things to discuss.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Like dragon eggs?”

“Bel!” He gave me a fake shocked expression. “I was going to discuss the weather! But now that you’ve brought it up…”

I laughed again at the evil villain dragon. The villainous minion. The support spouse. My husband the dragon.

“Sure, Liam. Then when we’re ready… we’ll go travel the realms. Visit some old friends. Save some worlds.”

No more heroes.

No more villains.

No more Fate.

Just us.

________________________________

In a lower realm…

“Are you ready?” Adam, his tall form dressed up in a fancy suit, held out a hand towards me. He didn't look too different to how he had seemed in high school, his features more mature, his eyes wiser. The look of brotherly affection hadn't changed at all, however.

“Of course!” I grinned and took his hand, looking at his face. “Are you crying?”

“What? No!” He wiped his eyes quickly. “Just shocked at how much my little sister has grown up! Seems like yesterday you were a goofy highschooler chasing that bozo Jake around."

“You grew up too.”  I smiled. “When is Jessica due?”

His expression grew soft. “Just 2 more months. I told her she should take time off, but she likes running the café. Says people watching is her pleasure in life." He glanced back at me. “Speaking of which, are they going to hire a substitute to teach calculus while you’re gone?”

“They’re going to have to. I’m not spending my honeymoon teaching math, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t believe you became a teacher… and a calculus teacher of all things… I thought you hated it.”

“I’m somewhat of an expert on the topic. Plus, I feel the need to spread the… joy… of learning calculus to others.”

“I feel sorry for your students.” he shuddered. "At least you don't spray them."

“Nope, that's only for brother behavior modification.” I laughed out loud, and Adam shook his head at my signature villainess sound.

“Good thing Liam likes your craziness.”

I shrugged. “He wouldn’t have me be any other way.”

We walked forward, stepping up to the beginning of the aisle. I grabbed the white skirt of my wedding gown in one hand, holding Adam’s hand with my other, as the wedding march played.

At the front of the church, Liam, dressed in a suit and looking slightly nervous waited. As I moved towards him, our eyes met. His dark blue eyes, the same in every world, lit up with joy, despite the countless weddings we’ve had before.

Different realms. Different bodies. The same souls. The same love.

Well… not everything was the same.

Wait until he finds out about my surprise. I laughed silently. The egg sling is finally going to be of use.

I took Liam's outstretched hand, and we spoke our vows once more, surrounded by our friends and family of this realm.

Promising to stay by each other’s side.

Forever.

[atsvmi]

Isagi’s Interlude

“I wish I wasn’t famous/ I wish I was still in school/ So that I could have you in my dorm room/ I would put it on you crazy” - Cece’s Interlude, Drake

✿ tags: minors dni, 18+ content, pro!Isagi, fem!reader (called good girl, wears a skirt, has cleavage, etc.), established relationship, mention of an age difference (reader is older than Isagi, both are in their 20s), consensual audio recording, role play (university students), switch!Isagi, switch!reader, oral (male receiving), humping, unprotected sex, mentions of virginity but neither is a virgin, purity kink, corruption kink (?), one mention of a spoiler, tbh i think this is pwp but idk

✿ wc: 3.5k

✿ a/n: the time has come that i officially am no longer catfishing as a writing blog🥳 please clap. also, this is my first time writing smut so please be kind<3

“Do you think we’d still date if we knew each other when we were in school?”

Your question is a random but welcomed conversation as you both work to reset your shared kitchen after dinner, you wash as he dries. In the seconds between the next clean dish, he pauses to consider his answer, before choosing to reach for low-hanging fruit.

“Do you mean high school? If so then...I hope not,” he finally answers. He can’t help but laugh as you fling the excess water and soap from your fingers onto him in indignation.

“No, I didn’t mean fucking high school. And quit making me seem like a fucking cradle robber, asshole.” You’ve been together long enough that the four-year age difference between the two of you is little more than a fun fact and a harmless joke at times. He can sense your annoyance is mostly for show but he chooses not to push any further.

“Ok, ok. I’m sorry,” he manages to get out between chuckles, fending himself from the assault of suds. Again he pauses to really think about what could’ve been. What would he have studied? Would he manage to get into a university with a good team? How would you manage to cross paths? He realizes it’s hard to consider anything when he doesn’t know much about your own school experience outside of the anecdotal stories you’ve told him.

“Tell me what you were like in school first.”

You resume washing the dishes, multitasking as you answer him.

“Um…pretty lame honestly. I wrote for the school’s newspaper. I wasn’t super active on campus but that made me get out there more than I would’ve on my own. But I did go to some parties.”

He lets your answer sink in.

“Yeah, I think we would’ve still got along. You don’t sound like you were much different from now so I don’t see why not.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see your lips turn slightly up, pleased with his answer. Cute.

“Do you ever think about your life if things turned out differently? Like if Blue Lock never happened?”

He can’t say he has. Blue Lock changed his life on its head completely, it’s hard to imagine things working out any differently. Tada and the others he went to school with were freshly graduated, at least according to their social media updates, so he supposes he would be too. Yet still, it’s hard to think about something so different than today.

“I dunno. I can’t really picture it. Actually, I don’t even want to. If I didn’t go to Blue Lock then who knows if I’d ever get the chance to play the soccer I want to. I’d probably never get to play professionally either.” He lets his train of thought wander, eventually realizing that without playing professionally, who knows if he’d ever cross paths with you. He buries the thought before it can even fully form and upset himself in the process.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” you conclude as you hand him the final dish. “I’m gonna get ready for bed. Can you just finish up here by sweeping?”

He nods in the affirmative, which you thank with a kiss that just misses his lips before leaving in the direction of the bedroom. Left with only his thoughts he can’t help but think a bit more about what could’ve been.

Obviously, he’d continue playing soccer as long as possible. Sure his high school team wasn’t amazing, but maybe through tryouts he’d end up at a decent enough school. And he’s always liked art class. Maybe he would’ve tried to pursue a fine arts degree? Or physical therapy to help athletes just in case soccer really didn’t pan out. But what then? For someone who’s built an entire soccer career around the ability to visualize a scenario, he really can’t help but to draw a blank.

Distracted by being in his own head, finishing around the kitchen takes longer than usual. When he finally manages to make his way to your shared room, he just manages to hear the sink’s water turn off, a sign that you’re at the tail end of your nightly routine.

He turns down the bed, first removing the many throw pillows you insist are necessary (a mild point of contention in his opinion. After all, what good is a pillow you’re not even allowed to lay on?) and then making himself comfortable using the “sleeping pillows” to prop himself up against the headboard, occupying himself by scrolling on the phone while he waits for you to make your way to bed. Despite it being the off-season he’s scheduled to meet with a trainer to maintain his conditioning so an early night is in order.

The click of the bathroom door opening draws his eyes but more importantly, what you’ve decided to wear to bed has his full attention.

“Baby, you look-” he starts before you cut him off.

“Is this still a good time for the interview?”

“Interview?”

He’s never been so confused in his life. And even worse, he can’t even dedicate half of his mind to start to comprehend what you’re playing at when he’s busy eyeing you from head to toe. The only thing on his mind is the oversized replica of his Bastard München jersey you’ve tied at your waist and the shortest skirt he’s ever seen. If he were to turn you around he’s sure that it’d cover absolutely nothing he’s sure a skirt is meant to. But even more captivating is the pair of thigh highs that indent into your skin the same way his fingers do when he-

“Yes? The post-game interview. I was hoping to get a quote for the paper from the player that scored the winning goal.”

“Uhh…” Is the most intelligent answer he can muster as he watches you climb onto the bed with a pad of paper and pen in hand. The size of the jersey only frames your cleavage as it gapes open thanks to gravity. Eventually, you make yourself comfortable, legs tucked under you and pen poised to take notes of his response.

“Is it ok if I record this,” you ask, sliding your phone on the nightstand, voice recorder rolling once he manages a stiff nod of his head. You continue. “So what were you thinking in that last play? It was pretty amazing if I say so myself.”

“Winning goal?” He should feel embarrassed by the way he can’t pull his eyes from your legs but the slither of skin between where your skirt ends and the socks begin is calling his name. It’s like he’s in high school again the way he can feel the blood rush from his head. Only your groan of annoyance gives him the strength to meet your eyes again.

“Babe, it’s called role play,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe in some ways, it is.

“Right. Role play.” A beat passes. “What exactly are the roles we’re playing?”

The look you give him makes his cock twitch in his pants.

“Obviously, you’re the star of our university’s soccer team and I am the reporter assigned to cover the season. You just scored the championship goal. Aaaand scene,” you drop your pen and paper to clap for extra effect and then grab both again, poised and ready for his answer.

Truthfully, he can hardly keep up with your antics but that’s never stopped him from trying. He’s had enough practice managing eccentric personalities from the cast of characters Blue Lock managed to put together so this is nothing but a cakewalk. The fact he’s in love with you only makes your idiosyncrasies endearing.

“Right.” He clears his throat, buying time. “I try to keep a cool head and focus on the field whenever I’m playing. A championship game doesn’t change that.”

You scratch something down on the notepad before continuing.

“And how do you feel now that you’ve won?”

“It’s a big achievement to win the championship for the school, and even more so to be the one to finish the game. I just hope to do even better next year.”

This time you jot away a bit longer, leaving his attention to wander back to your outfit. He reaches out a hand to appreciate the getup, running his hand up your knee to just under the hem of your skirt.

“Mr. Isagi you seem pretty distracted. Are you sure this is still a good time?”

“Call me Yoichi”. He doesn’t move his hand away when he answers.

Again you put down your props, seemingly for good as they rest next to your phone.

“I suppose this is probably too boring of a celebration for a star player like yourself. I should probably let you go back to the team for a proper congratulations. I’m sure you have quite the fan club waiting for you.”

“I doubt it. I’ve never been that popular.”

With that, you scoot closer, letting your legs fall open so that he can get the slightest glimpse between your legs if your skirt were to ride up even the slightest centimeter.

“That sounds doubtful. Who wouldn’t want a chance with Isagi Yoichi? Ace of the soccer team. Handsome and nice to boot.”

Despite complimenting his personality, your attention is focused on his physique, eyes roaming across his body appreciatively. He doesn’t fail to notice that you linger a second longer where the sheets have started to tent.

“Do you think it’d be ok if I properly congratulated you,” you ask, resting a hand on the sheet, ready to pull it away at a moment’s notice. You both have a healthy sex life, both well accustomed to initiating, but it’s rare for you to be so forward. He might pass out if you wait any longer to touch him.

“Congratulations? What did you have in mind?” Is all he can get out, forcing you to get straight to the point.

“Let me suck your cock. As a congratulations on a job well done.” Your hand cups his length through both the layers of the sheet, his joggers, and underwear, but he swears he could still cum with the slightest amount of friction he’s so wound up.

“Yeah. Yes. Please.” He’s near breathless, he wants you so badly.

Not a second is wasted before you have him bare from the waist down. He completes the look by pulling his shirt over his head, throwing the offending article wherever it chooses to land. All the while, you shimmy yourself down between his legs. Sure he’s the one fully naked but the eroticism of the sight before him already has him on the brink of cumming.

His name emblazoned between your shoulder blades is something he still has yet to learn to be normal about, but more than that, he finds that he was right about your skirt not covering an inch of your backside. However, what he wasn’t expecting was for it to perfectly frame the curve of your ass since you’ve apparently decided to forego underwear.

“Fuck me,” he gets out in only a puff of air.

“In due time, Mr. Yoichi,” is all you offer before kissing the mushroom tip, smearing the precum that’s collected on your lips, and then swallowing all that will comfortably fit in your mouth. It takes all the strength he can muster to not instinctively buck into you but he can’t hide the deep groan that comes out involuntarily as he meets the entrance of your throat.

“Fuck. You’re so good at this. Always so good,” he offers as he bundles your hair into his fist, slowly guiding you up and down his length. The praise leads you to moan around him, getting him even closer to the brink of cumming.

To get a better view he props himself up on one shaky arm, massaging all that he can reach, as you use your other hand to fondle his balls. Mere minutes pass before he starts to feel the familiar pit of pleasure begin to grow in his belly and it takes all his willpower to pull you off of him before he cums from the added stimulation. It’s next to a miracle that he manages to hold off even after he’s pulled you off once he sees the thick strings of saliva that still connect the two of you.

“I wasn’t done yet,” you have the audacity to pout.

“I didn’t want to cum yet,” he answers. Even to his own ears, he sounds debauched.

While still catching his breath he pulls you close, encouraging you to straddle him. You do and let out quiet moans as you rut your bare pussy against his length. Despite being so close to cumming before, he’s happy to let you do as you please. When your legs eventually tire, he switches to using both hands on your waist to manhandle you the way he knows you like.

“Tell me how you feel, sweetheart.” He can’t get enough of your sounds, no matter how small. To see how much of a mess you’re making he flips the front of your skirt, his tip coming in and out of view as he rocks you back and forth.

“So good, Yoichi. Your hands feel so good.”

He knows it’s not enough to get you off, that you need more. Eventually, he stops, pulling you down so that your chests meet. If you really want to role play, he figures he should get into the role he’s been assigned.

“Is there more to my award,” he asks, hands roaming under the jersey and under your skirt. There’s nowhere his hands don’t explore while he waits for your answer.

“W-what more do you want?”

He moves his right hand so that it’s between your bodies, spreading your pussy lips so that he can fully appreciate the wetness that’s accumulated. He uses his full palm to rub your clit while he answers.

“You said you’d fuck me in due time, yeah? Or were you all talk?”

“Um…about that.” Your eyes are fluttering, struggling to stay open and focus on his words. He feels like he’s on top of the world seeing how he can ruin you. “I have to t-tell you something.”

“I’m listening baby.” His voice is muffled as he leaves kisses across your neck and cheeks. Anywhere he can reach while you still use him to get off.

“I’ve never done this before.” Your eyes meet.

The proverbial record scratches and again he’s confused.

“What do you mean, you’ve never done this before?” Sure you both have busy schedules but there’s no way this is new to either of you. As a matter of fact, it couldn’t be more than a week since he had you in this exact position-

“I was a virgin when I got to college,” you whisper directly in his ear.

Again you have the upper hand as it feels like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice. The feeling only lasts a second though before it feels like every nerve lights up once he connects that this is still a part of the scene you’ve conjured. Oh.

The idea of you as a virgin has never crossed his mind once until this very moment. Given the age you were when you met, he had no reason to give it consideration. It’s not like he was even a virgin when you met. He makes a mental note to do some soul-searching later to find out why he’s rock hard and nearly brought back to the brink of cumming at the mere idea.

“Do…do you want to keep going?”

You laugh. A full out belly laugh.

“Yoichi, you're so cute. Only you would still be so considerate even in a fantasy.”

If all the blood in his body wasn’t occupied he’d probably blush at your teasing.

“I fucking love you,” you emphasize with a kiss. “Yes, I want to continue.”

Not another word is needed before he’s fully plunged back into the world you’ve created. No, he's never thought about you as a virgin but now that the seed has been planted he’s going to absolutely ruin you.

Within a breath, he’s switched your positions, now with you on your back and him pulling your legs onto his lap as he sits above you.

“Tell me if anything is too much, ok?” He preambles before he sucks both his ring and middle fingers, slowly pushing in one finger, then the other when he deems you ready.

Now that you’re fully on display for him he can’t help but stare. Again, the skirt hides absolutely nothing but he does push the jersey so that your tits are on display for him as well. Seeing you dressed but so exposed has his head swimming.

“You’re so pretty. Prettiest thing I’ve seen on campus.” If he’s going to play along, then he might as well go all out.

He bends at the waist to take in one tit, using his tongue to lick at and bite your nipple, before turning his attention to the other all the while he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers into you.

“Yoichi, please. I need you,” you whine.

He takes pity on you and moves from your chest and back up to your lips, kissing you deeply. God, he’s so in love with you.

“I’m sorry, baby. I just wanted to make sure you were good and ready. I want to make sure I don’t hurt you.”

“I promise I’m ready.”

“Ok, ok. I hear you. But can you do me a favor and clean my fingers for me?”

As soon as his request hits his ears your mouth falls open in a way that can only be described as obedient. He lets you suck at both his fingers until he removes them himself, the way your tongue slips between them turning him on all the more.

“So good for me. I really am a lucky guy, huh?” He watches you preen under his praise as he reaches next to your head for an extra pillow, lifting your hips to situate it underneath you.

“Ok, if you need me to stop just tell me, ok? For any reason.” You nod your head yes.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, Yoichi. I promise.”

“That’s my good girl.”

He locks his hand in yours before he finally presses into you, both of you moaning as he works his hips into you. It’s a fantasy, sure, but he’s as mindful as he can be to be slow and let you get accustomed to him, even if it’s far from your first times, or even 48 hours since he last fucked you.

He’s captivated by the way your mouth falls open as he fucks into you. It’s familiar but entrances him every time. When you give the go ahead he increases his pace, working at that spot he knows gets you there the fastest.

“More, need more,” and he knows exactly what you need, licking his thumb before rubbing against your clit in tight circles. It’s only through time and experience that he knows exactly how to work your body, confirmed by the way you babble his name as if it’s the only word you know.

“You’re taking me so well. Feel so good, so tight. Can feel you squeezing me. You gonna cum for me?”

“Yeah. Gonna cum for you. So fucking close.” You’re wrecked.

“I know, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“Kiss me.”

Your wish is his command, him meeting your waiting mouth. It’s barely a kiss as you can hardly meet his mouth between your moans but he swallows them all dutifully. It’s when your back arches and you fall near silent beside one final cry of his name does he know that you’re cumming. He pulls away to watch you fall apart.

“That’s my girl. So beautiful. Let it out for me.” The vice around his cock makes it difficult to fuck you through your orgasm but he powers through. Only once you relax does he rut into you a few more times before he loses himself, filling you as deeply as he can manage.

It’s silent once he collapses next to you, both catching your breath. When he catches his breath before you he departs with a peck to your lips before he leaves for the bathroom, returning with a damp rag.

“If that’s what I missed out on then I wouldn’t have minded going to school,” he breaks the reverie, cleaning between your legs before his cum has a chance to cool and become uncomfortable.

“Well, I’m glad everything worked out the way it did. Now I can have you all to myself,” you smile at him. He thinks his heart might burst.

“Yeah…that’s true too. Maybe everything worked out the way it did so that we could meet each other?”

“God, you're so sappy. Gross.” You both know you don’t mean it.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” He once again bends at the waist to meet your lips. Gross or not he’s glad things aligned to this very moment.

You meet him halfway, sitting up on one arm to brush away his damp bangs. When you pull away you meet his gaze.

“I really, really do fucking love you, Yoichi”.

Yeah, he’s sure he’d meet you in every universe.

[wingedhallows]

traitor - ch. three ; sirius black

pairing: sirius black (golden trio era) x fem! oc | 2.1k words warning: dark themes, death, torture plot: Fourteen years ago, Hecate Hunt, a valuable member of the Order and once a Death Eater gave her life for her friends and the man she loved, at least that's what was believed. Now she's done hiding, ready to fight alongside her old friends and her godson. Ready to return to the life she once had, ready to once again be a traitor. authors note: hi, hi! thank you for reading :)

navigation | chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four

“Your godson.” Albus spoke but paused, his hand rummaging through his pocket. “Harry?” He nodded and held a picture for you to take.

The picture showed a young boy, not older than fifteen with a broom in his hand. His friends next to him, cheering because of what you guessed was a win in Quidditch.

“He’s in grave danger, you see.” Your eyes were still glued to the picture, the way the boy resembled his parents.

You knew the broom, it looked familiar. In a matter of seconds it came to you, Sirius had bought his godson a broom when he was hardly a few months old.

He had claimed to teach him how to fly the stick and become just as great as his father. Remus and You had laughed at him, the thought of Sirius with his infant godson on a broom amused you.

“This was taken a few months back, I thought you might want to have it.” You nodded and gave Albus a small smile.

“Ron Weasly and Hermoine Granger, the kids to his left and right, are his friends. Both of them face the same danger.” You nodded and put the picture in your pocket.

“The Order will be reinstated, now that Sirius Black is proven innocent, to us at least.” He placed a parchment in Fawkes’ peak and sent him flying.

“Fudge is still in denial but there is something coming, something worse than last time.” 

You nodded and pushed a cigarette between your lips.

“We will bring you back, strengthen the Order and resume with our activities.” “I see.” You answered, as you blew some smoke.

“Come to Grimmauld Place tomorrow afternoon, you’ll have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Hecate?” You stopped dead in your tracks, eyes staring ahead.

“I knew it was too good to be true.”

You knew that voice, how could you not. “Snape.” You turned around, hands in your pockets. His face didn’t move, the same stoic look as ever.

“You’re alive.” You didn’t move a muscle, face cold as ice.

“You were hiding.”-”I was hiding, because Albus asked me to.” You took a step towards him, eyes boring holes in his.

“I was hiding because people like you wanted me dead.” He swallowed and took a step back, nose held high. “Good to see you haven’t changed.” You nodded and took a step back as well.

“Neither have you.” He didn’t answer. “Black escaped, I heard.” You frowned at him, at his trying to talk to you like you had before.

“And?” He clasped his hand behind his back, greasy hair flying in the slight breeze.

“Thought it might interest you.” You nodded, not answering. You pulled your pack of cigarettes from your pocket and lit a stick for yourself, you wouldn’t share, not with Snivellus.

It felt almost the same, the corridors of the castle you had wandered year after year without a care in the world. The breeze, the owls, but something was off. Of course, things have changed. Fifteen years went by, you were believed dead and Sirius wasn’t by your side, nor were any of your friends. 

“Can’t believe they let you teach.” You said, his gaze now on you. “Why?” Your lips formed into a cruel grin, the smoke filling your lungs once again.

“We both know why.” You said, air growing colder by the minute. He didn’t answer and kept his eyes away from you. “I’ll see you, Hecate.” You looked at him once again, your eyes in slits.

“I hope not.” You spoke before you watched him leave you behind. His dark hair and robes flying with each step dramatically. You hadn’t missed the sight of Severus, not since he had hurt you that night.

“Let’s get inside, it’s awfully cold out here.” Albus spoke, his wand extended to tap on the door. You knew this spell, he had used it before. The building started to rumble and within a few moments Sirius’ parents house appeared in front of you two.

Your hands were sweaty, your chest tight.

“The children are here too.” He said, opening the door. He let you in first and you took your scarf off, hanging it on the coat rack like you had done years before. The house hadn’t changed. It was still dark, cold and unwelcoming. You hated it when Sirius introduced you to his parents, when you got him out of that house when things got hard and you hated it now as well.

 Albus pushed past you and was welcomed with hello’s and big smiles. You heard his voice and your feet stopped working. You hid your hands in your pockets and took another step forward, Albus was waiting for you after all. The kitchen was lifely, filled with people and warm with all the buzz.

“I got someone to introduce.” Albus spoke, his hand extended to point at you.

You took another step and your frame came into light through the doorstep. The room stilled, not a word or movement. Your eyes found Remus’ first, who stared at you in disbelief. The kids, Harry and his friends stepped away from the table, watching the adults in wonder.

“I believe some of you know each other.” Dumbledore spoke as he sat himself down, a cup in front of him.

You tried to calm your heart, the adrenaline which rushed through your veins like speed. Minerva clasped a hand in front of her mouth and Moody huffed in disbelief.

“Hecate.”

You closed your eyes, desperate to get a grip, to not lose it. 

You took a breath and looked at him. It hit you like a truck. He looked older, broken. Azkaban does that to people, losing the woman you love does that, losing your friends does that. You gripped the lighter inside of your pocket for dear life, to keep you calm.

“Sirius.”

You said, voice merely a whisper. The cool demeanor has left you, all the masking of emotion has left you. He slowly lifted himself off the chair, the wood squeaking in the process. Harry stepped out of his godfather's way and watched you with wide eyes.

His hands found your elbows, his eyes stayed glued on your face. “Thank Merlin.” He whispered before he engulfed you in a bone crushing hug. One hand stayed on your back, the other cradled your head.

Soft sobs left your mouth as you hugged him back, hand on the back of his neck. His face hid in the crook of your neck, unsteady breaths hitting your skin. Albus cleared his throat and you tried to pull away but his hold on you didn’t budge, you couldn’t blame him.

“Love.” You said, only for him to be heard.

His eyes found yours as he lifted his hands to your face, rough thumbs caressing the skin beneath.

“Hecate.” You nodded and took a hold of his hands, guiding to the chair he had sat on before. Harry moves one chair over and let you sit down with Sirius in hand.

He didn’t let go and something about the way he stared at you, held your hand in an iron grip, told you that he would never let you out of his sight ever again. You didn’t mind, you thought.

“You have got to explain this, Albus.” Minerva spoke after she had sent a small smile your way. You’ve always liked Minnie the most, no other teacher was like her. After being a great teacher she became a friend, you had cherished your relationship with Minerva a lot.

“Of course.” Your hand found the goblet, which a red haired woman had placed in front of you. Sirius eyed you every other second and the others kept their gazes on you as well, not believing their eyes.

“Hecate was in grave danger, fifteen years ago.” He paused as you lowered your head, remembering the many weeks you had fought for your life. “As some of you know, there were several attempts of murdering her, to get rid of her.” You took a sip of your drink, the memories still hurtful.

“I had offered her help to go into hiding, to get away before anything could happen but Hecate was adamant to stay, to be by her friend's side. That night, when I had sent her on a mission I had a hunch, that one of us was talking to the dark side but I wasn’t sure-”You sent her out there, knowing that Peter would rat her out?” Sirius slammed his palm on the dark table, eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the old wizard.

“Sirius.” You tried, your hand on his shoulder. He briefly looked at you before his back connected with the rest of his chair with a huff.

“That was my mistake, I admit.” He paused, looking at you. You opened your mouth, ready to continue.

“Peter had indeed given the information to his little friends and I was ambushed.” You took the pack of cigarettes from your pocket and lit yourself one, desperate for nicotine.

“They kidnapped me and held me in a place I didn’t recognize. I don’t know how long I was there, nor do I remember everything that happened to me. I was tortured for information but I held through.” You took a drag, your eyes connecting with Sirius’. His hand found yours as he gave you a sorry look. You didn’t know how to react.

“Regulus Black helped me escape.” Sirius eyes widened, his hand retreated as he stared at you.

“What?” You nodded and took another drag. “Reggie felt sorry for me, he told me that he never wanted this for me. He had contacted Albus and helped me escape. I believe he paid a hefty price for that, I’ll forever be thankful for Regulus’ braveness.” Sirius rubbed his hands over his face. You took another sip from your cup and looked at the kid next to you. It was outright terrifying how much he looked like his parents.

He looked at you, face nervous and unsure. You knew Harry, of course you did. You were by Lily’s side when she gave birth to him. You held him more times than you could ever count, changed his diapers and fed him.

You watched his first steps and heard his first words. You were his godmother for fucks sake. So why did you feel so nervous?

“After my escape Albus sent me somewhere far away, I didn’t know where this place was and I didn’t make it very easy for anybody involved. I wanted out, I needed to be by your side, by Remus’, Lily’s and James’ side. I needed to know if you guys were alright. I rebelled, even though Albus wanted me to be safe.” You put your cigarette out and leaned back.

“Though I believe that things would’ve worked out better if I would’ve been there. Lily and James would still be alive.” Every person in the room seemed to flinch at the dead wizards' names.

“You don’t know that.” Minerva tried but you shook your head. You put your hand on the table as you looked at Albus. “I know you meant well, but you had no right to make that decision. I’ll hold this grudge till the day I take my last breath.” Albus nodded but didn’t speak a word.

“So you kept her away from us? Like a joker, to be played when you see fit?” Sirius spoke again, hands crossed. You eyed Dumbledore, the cigarette in your hand burning further and further. The smoke filled your lungs, a sip of firewhiskey followed.

“Hecate is still alive, that’s what’s more important.” He tried but Sirius shook his head, a chuckle left his mouth as he narrowed his eyes at the old wizard.

“She’s still alive because you have something planned, isn’t it?” Your hand found his arm and he calmed down, chest deflating with a flex of his jaw.

“Fact is that I’m alive because Albus saved me, which I’m thankful for, of course. However, that decision, to keep me hidden from my friends and you, was unrightful and I won’t forgive him for that.” He eyed you and let his fingers slip between yours. Albus didn’t argue and started to talk about the topics at hand.

The air was cold, the dark coat kept you from freezing. The cigarette in your hand burned with an almost inaudible sound as your eyes skimmed the dark night. The backyard was still the same. Sirius’ parents had mowed it all down and plastered the lawn with tiles, claiming that upkeep was too much work.

The door closed with a click and you turned around, cigarette still clasped between your fingers. There stood Harry, his arms in the pockets of his jacket.

“So, you’re my godmother?” Your lips formed into a smirk.

“And you’re my godson.”

( taglist: @caramelandvenus )

[theworldofotps]

Eight Months Ago

Pairing: HOOK x Reader Word Counter: 5242 Description: Eight months ago Tyler did one of the hardest things he’s ever done.

Slight angst(?), fluff, little hints of smut and some sad (sorta?)

A massive thank you @omg-im-such-a-masochist babes your support, ideas and just everything is always so appreciated. This wouldn’t have been possible or turned out the way it did without your help. Love youuu xx

I really hope you guys enjoy this it’s a little long x (I also hope it makes sense because I’ve edited it so many damn times) _________ Tag list:

@omg-im-such-a-masochist @melissahausen @new-zealand-chic @writtingrose @sjwrites22 @sassymox @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex @biforrollynch @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91 @rebellious-desires @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497 @thatpanpal @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart @vebner37 @auburnwrites @aews-four-pillars @seeingstarks @whenimakeitshine1234 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @blaquekitty @ironshamelessyouth @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @ripleyswhore @melblacc @alliwant456 @elevennbloom @xbreezymeadowsx @mcreignsera If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _________ Taz hesitated outside his son’s locker room, normally he wouldn’t think twice about knocking but lately Tyler seemed like he was on the edge. He wasn’t sure when it had all started, but he had a few faint ideas, one he could for sure almost bet was a big part of the reason. After another brief pause, he knocked and waited for the okay to step inside.

“Who is it?”

“Your father.”

“..Come on in.”

Pushing the door open, Taz closed it behind him and leaned against the wall his arms crossed as he eyed his son. Tyler was laid out on the couch, an arm covering his eyes and the other lying across his stomach, he hadn’t even changed out of his gear yet.

“Sit up we need to have a talk.”

“Can’t this wait till later?”

“No, no it can’t.”

Waiting until he was sat up and his attention was focused on his dad, Taz sat on the only other chair in the room. Rubbing his hand over his chin he took the time to really look at his kid, he had dark circles under his eyes. His hair was even wilder than usual and not because of having just finished a match. Taz had started to notice the slight differences in him, and to be frank he was getting worried.

“Look son.”

Taz started slowly trying to figure out the best way to go about this situation, he figured coming right out was best.

“I don’t know what’s been going on lately, but we really need to discuss whatever it is that has you feeling or acting the way you’ve been.”

“Nothing is going on I’m just a little tired.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it come on Ty I wasn’t born yesterday; you know you can talk to me about anything. But for the last couple of months, you haven’t been yourself. You show up late for training, you hardly return any calls to anybody or when the guys invite you out you always decline. Your matches are still amazing, it seems the only time you’re really yourself is when you’re in the ring. Maybe it’s because it comes like second nature I don’t know. But what I do know is something ain’t right and it seems like it hasn’t been for a while.”

“I’m fine dad really just a lot on my mind but it’s nothing. We’ve been traveling a lot and it’s finally catching up.”

Taz eyed him for a few minutes then spoke once again this time with more caution.

“How long has it been since Double or Nothing?”

“Eight months give or take.”

Nodding, he stood and walked over patting his shoulder then made his way over to the door Taz knew his gut feeling was probably right.

“Well, if you do want to talk, I’m here remember that please.”

“I will dad thanks.”

Tyler said and flopped back down on the couch resuming his previous position, Taz watched him for another moment before leaving the room. Pulling out his phone he scrolled to the bottom of his contacts and hovered over the call button before clicking dial. Listening to it ring he walked away from Tyler’s locker room and headed for the parking lot. This was a long shot but like he’d told Tyler, he knew his kid and he’d bet money that the thing making him behave this way would be on the other end of the phone call.

“Taz?”

“Hey firefly it’s good to hear from you again, listen I know it’s been a while since we chatted last, but I really need your help.?

*Eight months ago*

“Ty wait stop you’re going to drop me!”

Taz followed the sound of laughter and made his way to where the ring was being set up. Chuckling, he crossed his arms watching as Tyler carried Y/n around the barricade that was set up.

“Oh, come on you know I’d never drop you baby just hold on tight.”

Tyler chuckled back to her as he walked around a barricade and then started jumping up the stairs. The sound of Y/n’s screams being muffled as she pressed her face against his shoulder. 

“Be careful Tyler you have a match tomorrow last thing we need is you getting injured because you tripped going up the stairs. And we don’t want y/n getting hurt either.”

Taz called out and made his way down the ramp towards the ring, Tyler huffed but turned and walked back down the steps. Y/n still held tightly on his back as they made their way over to stand with him.

“I wouldn’t drop my girl she’s safe as could be.”

“Not the point son.”

“Thank you, Taz.”

Y/n said slipping off Tyler’s back and adjusting the HOOK shirt she was wearing a grin on her face.

“You’re welcome, you two look just the way you did when you were fifteen and making your way around the arenas waiting for me to finish a match.”

“Except this time, she’s mine and I don’t have to worry about her leaving me for an older man.”

Tyler teased causing Y/n to gasp shoving his shoulder as she crossed her arms.

“I didn’t leave you for another man I just wanted an autograph from Stone Cold and you were busy munching your chips while sucking your juice box.”

Y/n said as Tyler took her hand kissing the back of it lightly then kissed her lips chuckling afterwards.

“When I found her, she was busy drooling over him clutching the photo to her chest listening to him ramble about whatever.”

“I was not drooling!”

“Okay children okay it’s getting late Tyler needs to get some rest for the show tomorrow you can argue about this another time. Head back to the hotel and no funny business I mean it he needs to get a good night sleep.”

“Yes dad.”

Taz watched as the two walked off whispering and giggling as they went, he loved seeing his son so happy and the fact it was with someone who was already treated like family because of his connection with her uncle was just the cherry on top.

*Present* Pushing the hotel room door open Tyler threw his bag on the floor and made his way over for a quick shower. He was ready to just get clean and lay in his bed the exhaustion from his match was finally settling in. He was more than glad he didn’t have anything to do tomorrow so he could just keep to himself. Digging through his bag for a clean pair of pajama bottoms he walked into the bathroom showering and getting ready for bed. Plugging his phone in, he shut the light off, laying down on the bed and waited for his vision to get adjusted to the dark.

He still wasn’t completely used to sleeping by himself even after eight months alone, the bed always seemed much colder without her there. Tyler couldn’t help but shut his eyes tightly, the image of her drifted through his mind as it did almost every night. He couldn’t help playing that last scene back repeatedly like he always did. Sure, he may have been the one to bring this all upon himself, sure he knew that he could have gone about things a different way. But it was too late to try and change the past, now all he could do was unwillingly dwell on it.

*Eight months ago* Tyler rubbed a hand over his face as he sat on the bed, he was supposed to be resting up but he couldn’t help it. What he was about to do was making it impossible for him to go to sleep. Hopefully once it was finished, he’d be able to just push everything off and maybe things would go back to semi normal.

“Hi babe, I’m back sorry it took so long but Renee wanted help deciding on some outfits for the show next week.”

Y/n called out as she closed the hotel door behind her, making her way to the bedroom after removing her coat and shoes. Spotting Tyler she frowned softly and made her way over to the bed slowly.

“Hey are you okay?”

Tyler shook his head and got off the bed. He needed to have a little space between them before he did this. Swallowing back the nervousness he took a moment to collect himself, letting a neutral bored look settle on his features then turned back to her. Y/n the girl who meant more to him then anyone else, his light in this fucked world. They’d known each other all their lives and yet over the course of the time they were dating, his feelings hit fast.

“Look I know this is sudden and out of nowhere but I just I don’t think this is going to work out anymore. And by this, I mean us. I’ve given it some thought and there’s not really any point in letting it drag on. It’s better if we just end on good terms as friends or whatever.”

Tyler glanced over, seeing the shock on her face and the tears welling up in her eyes as he spoke. He knew this was going to devastate her, but he needed out. He couldn’t handle all this emotion and feeling, everything else that came with having a serious stable relationship.

Y/n stared at him and swallowed the lump in her throat as she tried to process everything he was saying. He was right this had come out of nowhere, she thought that they were doing amazing at the present time in their relationship. Sure, they had spats like every couple, but they always managed to work through them in the end.

“Where is this coming from? We’ve been together for nearly eight months. What changed, what went wrong? What did I do to make you feel like you needed to end this?”

“You didn’t do anything there’s no point trying to explain it I just know that it’s best to end things where they are before one of us ends up getting hurt…worse.”

“I thought you loved me. How can you say you love someone then go and do this without giving me a real reason as to why. I don’t want to lose you Ty please baby there has to be something we can do to work this out.”

“We’ll always be friends you won’t lose me completely this is just for the best; I do love you Y/n..in a way but I just know we can’t continue this it has to be over. I got you another room, so you don’t have to go to the airport this late.”

Grabbing the new key, he held it out looking at the wall to avoid watching the tears that were sliding down her cheeks. Tyler knew she was hurting but he couldn’t let this relationship go on and it was best that she hated him for now then for things to continue as they were. In the end he was worried about breaking her even worse.

Sniffling Y/n stood up and quickly went about gathering her stuff, Tyler watched her pack everything. His heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. He wanted more than anything to stop her, but he knew he couldn’t. When she had everything, she went to the door stopping with her hand on the knob just hoping he would change his mind. Sure, she could yell and scream but the thing she wanted most was for him to be happy. And if ending their relationship was going to make him happy then she wasn’t going to stop that. Walking out she closed the door behind her, leaving Tyler alone with the memories and a empty feeling in his chest.

*Present* Y/n stared at the tickets that laid on the table in front of her in an envelope. After the call she received from Taz a few days ago she was dumbfounded. She couldn’t understand why he would want her to fly all the way out to Chicago because Tyler wasn’t acting himself. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since the night she left his hotel room. After having her cousin grab the few things, she had at his apartment she hadn’t had any contact with him. Of course, she had asked after him and even tried to send a text, but it failed to deliver.

Taz had told her he couldn’t figure out what else to do, Tyler wasn’t talking to him like he normally would. He wasn’t talking to anyone or being himself, and this was the last thing Taz could think of. Tyler and Y/n had been close as could be even before they dated so he was hoping that she could help. 

Honestly as much as she loved Taz and wanted to do this for him, she couldn’t just forget about all the hurt and anger she had felt at the way Tyler ended things between them. He couldn’t even be decent enough to give her a straight answer as to why he was breaking up with her. She’d spent weeks and months afterwards trying to think of what could have gone wrong and she kept coming up blank. 

“Tyler made his choice he obviously didn’t want me there anymore, he ended things between us why should I care if he isn’t acting right?”

Standing she felt all that old anger coming back to the surface as she stared down at those tickets.  “I really think he needs you Y/n”

Taz had told her; she had never heard that desperate tone in his voice before and knew that he must be really worried about Tyler.

“If he really needed me then he never should have left.”

Y/n turned her back on the envelope and made her way into the bathroom to have a hot bath. Maybe she would know what to tell Taz after spending some more time thinking. The flight was for tomorrow evening. Slipping into the hot bath y/n rested her head back on a towel, her eyes closing as the water gently swirled around her. She couldn’t help her mind wandering when she closed her eyes, thinking about Tyler brought back memories that she tried her hardest to keep buried in the back of her mind.

*A year ago* “Ty what if we get caught by someone?”

“We won’t baby, nobody ever comes down this it’s too far in the arena so we’re safe.”

Tyler whispered holding Y/n’s hand as they made their way down a dark hallway. He had just finished a match and despite still being in the arena; Tyler needed her now. He just couldn’t wait until they got back to the hotel. Stopping short Tyler turned pressing her against the wall, Y/n gasped at the contact of cold cement seeping through her shirt making her shiver as his warm body covered hers. Tyler’s lips met hers in a hungry kiss, his fingers pressing into the skin of her hips, Y/n let out a soft moan as he rocked into her. 

“Been thinking of doing this all-day angel ever since we got out of bed this morning.”

“Ty please I need.”

“Shh I know baby just be a good girl and wait. I’ll give you just what you need.”

He kissed across her jaw and down her neck, his hands slipping under her shirt touching as much skin as he could. Her nipples pebbled under his touch and soft moans fell from her lips as he worked them between his fingers. Tyler couldn’t help the smirk that covered his lips at the sounds she was making.

“As much as I love playing with your tits my dad will be looking for us soon.”

He chuckled softly before yanking her pants down to her knees a soft gasp falling from her.

“Fuck you’re already wet for me and I’ve barely done anything.”

He whispered in her ear as he rubbed her core through the new panties he just bought her. Y/n whimpered and whined as he pushed the fabric to the side. Pulling his own shorts down he fisted his cock stroking it a few times before slowly sliding into her. Y/n moaned head falling back as he laced their fingers together, rocking his hips forward.

“So, fucking tight.”

He hissed giving her just a few moments to adjust to his size before he pulled out thrusting back in.

“I love you Ty baby so much.”

Y/n cried out her legs wrapping around his waist as he moved in and out of her, Tyler’s eyes met hers a gleam of happiness in them.

“I love you too starfish, forever.”

*Present day* Wiping the tears away Y/n huffed and reached over grabbing her phone sending a quick message to Taz.

‘I’ll be there tomorrow evening.’ ~ Taz watched the flights flash across the board, she should be off the plane and walking over to the baggage claim any moment now.  Looking around Taz smiled mover making his way over when he finally spotted her, waiting till she grabbed her suitcase and turned around.

“Taz!”

“Hey firefly it’s so good to see you kiddo!”

Hugging her tightly he kissed the top of her head and grabbed her suitcase offering his arm for her as they made their way through the airport.

“Thanks again for coming Y/n I know that things haven’t been good between you twos but I’m worried and nothing else is working.”

“Are you sure he’s going to want to see me?”

“Honestly yes I do. You should have seen the way he was after you left, I don’t know why he ended things, but he was a mess afterwards. He doesn’t know that I heard him every time I passed his room or went to his door. I’ve told him more than once that breaking it off with you was stupid but he’s a grown ass adult. Here we go let’s get in and head for the arena he has a match tonight, so we’ll keep you hidden until afterwards.” 

“What are we going to do if he gets mad and tells me to leave?”

“If you knew how miserable he’s been for the last eight months or so especially these the last few weeks even. I think seeing you would be more than good for him even if he doesn’t want to admit it. Maybe the two of you could finally talk and you can find out why things ended the way they did. If he really doesn’t, well then you can explore Chicago for a few days before going home. Or there is a ticket for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, having some closure would be really nice if I’m honest.”

“Closure yeah.”

Taz nodded holding the door for her to get in the car and walked around getting in the driver side.  Nodding y/n went silent for a moment she had tried to figure out once again why he had left but she couldn’t and unless Tyler told her she would never know. That was another reason why she had eventually agreed to come all the way out here.

Taz really was hoping that this would be good on both ends for the two of them. Making the drive to the arena they talked about a bunch of different topics, the closer they got the more nervous Y/n became. Yes, she had always hoped to see Tyler again, but didn’t think she would. Y/n also hoped she’d be able to keep her cool when she seen him. But part of her couldn’t help arguing that he deserved her anger after all. 

Parking the car, they slipped in through a back door and made their way down a couple hallways. Opening a door that was labeled HOOK, Taz stepped inside setting her case down and stepped to the side so she could enter. 

“I have Tyler in my locker room for now he won’t be in here until after his match if you need me at all just send me a text. Here’s the remote, and this is the wifi password I’ll talk with you soon, sorry to rush but I need to get to commentary.”

Watching him leave, y/n looked around and sat down she couldn’t believe she was here again. Turning the tv on she searched for the channel that would play Dynamite. She hadn’t seen one of Tyler’s matches in a few months, so she was intrigued to see where his storyline was... 

When his music hit Y/n’s breath hitched as she waited and then there he was, Taz was right he wasn’t himself. The rest of the world may not be able to tell very well but she could she knew Tyler better than she did anyone. Or at least she had, that’s why she was hoping he would be willing to see her tonight. The expression on his face and the lifelessness in his eyes. Shaking her head Y/n focused her attention on the screen watching as the match played out he was still just as fantastic as he’d always been. 

“Come on Tyler.”

She whispered and smiled when he got the pin, Tyler stood up lifting his title then slipped out of the ring. 

‘He’s on his way back just give it a few moments, good luck kiddo text if you need something’

‘Okay thank you’

Putting her phone on silent Y/n stood up and took a few breaths to calm herself down as she waited. When the door handle turned, she prepared herself and watched the door swing inward. His head was down so he didn’t see her right away until she spoke.

“Hello Tyler.”

Tyler’s head shot up quickly, he blinked rubbing the back of his head okay he must have been hit in the head too many times. Either he was hallucinating or Y/n was actually right in front of him.

“Y/n? What are you? Is it really you? How are you in my dressing room? What are you doing here?”

“Your father got ahold of me he said you haven’t been yourself lately and was hoping I could help somehow.”

Y/n shrugged her shoulders biting her lip as she watched him the door finally shut closing them in together. 

“And you came here just for that? I didn’t think..I mean after everything I wouldn’t have expected you too.”

“Well, I hadn’t really planned on it at first but I was hoping for some closure but yeah, he said he thought you really needed me. And well I have some of my own reasons.”

Of course, it was his dad that got ahold of her, the thing he’d wanted to do for weeks and couldn’t bring himself to.

“What’s going on Ty, what’s the matter with you?”

Hearing that nickname sent a wave of sadness over him and a lump in his throat he had to swallow around. Tyler ran a hand through his hair, an action that was all too familiar to y/n he walked over until she was in arms reach. 

“Feels like everything is crumbling around me I can barely sleep; I just feel so lost and I can’t seem to catch a break mentally.”

He mumbled as his eyes ran over her features, he couldn’t believe that she was actually in front of him right now.

“Have you ever felt like everything around you was just fine? The world in your immediate vicinity is doing rather well.  But for you internally, mentally whatever it feels like nothing will ever be right again, and you can’t block out the world completely, so you just try to ignore it.”

Nodding her head slowly as she listened to him speak Y/n watched his expression.

“Yeah honestly I have, still do at times. How long has it been like this?”

“The night after Double or Nothing, when I…broke things off between us it was hard for a while then I thought it was getting better. But it wasn’t nothing has been good since that night and it’s just getting to be too much at this point.”

Y/n felt her heart break at the vulnerability in his voice. If there was one thing that never changed it was the way she always responded to his emotions. She wanted so badly to reach out and hug him, but she couldn’t bring herself to. The feelings of hurt and anger were still welling up inside of her.

“Before I do my best to try and help you, I need to know something. Why did you end things Tyler? If things are so bad, why did you end it between us? And I want the real reason because after talking to your dad I’m starting to believe what you were spewing before wasn’t the whole reason. We were doing amazing at least I thought we were, and even the six months before that when you were training a lot. But then suddenly, it’s not working? I want the truth. I at least deserve that.”

Y/n said and searched his face she wanted to know, she needed to know the real reason. Needed to know the reason that caused her to lay awake at night, her tears falling on her pillow as she tried to think of what she did or said that made him leave.

“I told you already we just couldn’t-.”

“Don’t lie to me Tyler and tell me the truth and I mean the whole truth!”

Y/n snapped and cupped his face making him look at her and not allowing him to break eye contact. The feeling of his skin against hers still sent a spark through her but she ignored it.

“Before I was your girlfriend, I was one of your best friends, we knew each other better than we knew ourselves. And we almost always knew when the other was lying and that is what you’re doing. Now why did you leave me? Why did you end things between us when they were going so well? You just dropped me, Tyler. Like I was nothing. Like our whole relationship was nothing.”

She said letting him go and paced the floor in front of him she didn’t mean to snap but she couldn’t help herself. She was pissed, and still hurt. Swallowing she blinked back the tears and continued.

“Instead of being a man and talking to me about whatever was wrong you just tossed me to the side and didn’t even have the decency to try and fight for what we had. You may not have cared or thought I deserved a reason, but I do. I just want to know.”

“Because I was scared Y/n. You’re right, you know me better than anyone and you know that fear is not something I feel too often but when it came to our relationship, I was scared shitless. My feelings got too real, too intense so fast and I didn’t know how to handle it, so I just swept it all under the rug and ran.”

Tyler admitted, his head dropping, he didn’t know what else to say but he knew she had every right to know. It felt good being able to admit this to her and he didn’t know why the hell he hadn’t done it sooner. Then again, he’d grown up a lot during their time apart and realized that just because his feelings seemed to be too much too fast that it was okay.

“I’m sorry, I truly am I wanted to reach out to you a couple months after I wanted to make things better, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I know it doesn’t seem like I cared, especially with the way I went about everything, but I did. I loved you more than I ever had another person. You were everything to me. I wasn’t emotionally mature enough to handled everything. I know that’s not an excuse either but I’m laying it all out like you want.”

He was not used to being vulnerable and hated how it made him feel but maybe letting this all out would be the start of him getting back to normal. He knew that Y/n didn’t owe him anything so to say he was completely surprised when she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly was an understatement. Tyler’s arms wound around her waist and held her just as tightly to him and felt like he could finally breathe for the first time in a long time. 

Y/n wasn’t sure how long they stood together like that just the two of them holding each other tightly but it felt good. Tears slid down her cheeks as she held onto him, this was something she’d been dreaming of. The relief of finally knowing it wasn’t anything she did, the anger knowing if he would have just come to her about everything they could of worked on it together. The sadness of all the time they had lost whirled around inside her. But for the time being she pushed it away and just focused on the fact she was getting to hold him again. 

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this again.”

Tyler mumbled into her neck and reluctantly loosened his grip so he could look at her.

“Probably as badly as I’ve wanted to, I can’t believe that all this time.”

“I know I’m really sorry.”

Taking his hand Y/n pulled him to sit beside her on the couch and rubbed his hand that was still clasped between hers. Tyler shook his head and leaned back against the cushions a soft smile on his face.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here, how long for?”

“Well, we weren’t sure how this was going to go so I have two tickets one for tomorrow and the other is four days from tomorrow.”

“Would you be willing to keep the second one, I really think we need to sit down and talk all of this out more.”

“I wouldn’t have come all this way if I didn’t think that we could talk afterwards if you were willing. So yes lets get your stuff together and head somewhere maybe we could get some food because you really look like you need something to eat after that match.”

“You watched?”

“Yes, I always used to love watching your matches and I haven’t seen any in a while, so you have a lot to catch me up on.”

Tyler’s smile widened as he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, he knew this didn’t fix anything, but he still couldn’t help himself. They gathered their suitcases and made their way out of the arena to the parking lot where his rental car was. While putting their suitcases in the backseat Y/n sent a quick text to Taz then climbed in the passenger seat.

‘Going to get something to eat and then talk with him we have a lot we need to deal with’

Taz pulled his phone out since it was a commercial break and smiled as he read over the message sending a reply wishing her the best of luck and then sent one to Tyler.

‘If it works out treat her right this time boy don’t let your fear get in the way of what or rather who you love most.’

*Seen*

[something-tofightfor]

Fool's Gold 5: Shed My Skin And Breathe In The Colour

Pairing: Pirate Oberyn Martell x Female Reader (with a twist)

Rating: M for now - but that will change later. (This chapter includes Game of Thrones canon-typical violence, blood, fighting, etc.) It also contains what I'm going to call Smut Lite.

Word Count: 6,877

Summary: You and Daavos continue to grow closer, which is going to make the coming decision much more difficult for you to make.

And when your journey to Dorne takes an unexpected turn and you're forced to think on your feat, you learn a little more about yourself - and what you're capable of.

But that knowledge pales in comparison to something else you learn while on the Sand Snake.

Author's Note: This story has unfolded in a much different way than when I initially planned it ... but I'm really enjoying this journey. It picks up in this chapter, and from here on out, things take a much faster pace than the first half of the story did. Thank you all for your patience, I really appreciate it.

If you want to talk about this story (or any of my others) please feel free to pop into my inbox or DMs!

Chapter title comes from "Autumn" by Caligula's Horse.

Fool's Gold Masterlist

A hand sliding up over your side and then across your lower back woke you the following morning.

For a few seconds, you were confused, your body stiffening. But when you heard a voice saying your name followed by good morning, you relaxed. “Daavos.” Humming, you moved closer, keeping your eyes closed. “You’re still here.” 

“Of course I am.” He sighed, the sound content. “I said I wanted to see what you thought of waking up next to someone, and I meant it. Open your eyes.” 

You did as he asked, and were gifted with the sight of him: bed-rumpled hair, an easy smile, and thin shafts of light filtering in through the curtains that mostly covered the window.  There was no stopping your reaction, and you knew that he caught your sharp intake of breath and the widening of your eyes. You were certain that he felt the way you continued to move toward him until there were only inches separating you. 

“Do I even need to ask how you are feeling this morning?” His smile widened, Daavos’ gaze dropping to your lips. “Or should I let your body have the honor of telling me?” I wish. I wish we could do that. 

“If this is the only morning I get to wake beside you, Daavos, then I thank you for that.” You lifted your hand and tucked his hair behind one ear, following the curve of his skull and urging him closer. “Let me have one more thing to thank you for.” He laughed, but the sound was kind, and when your lips met, you felt true comfort. At least I’ll have this. At least I’ll know what this feels like. No matter what happens or where I end up. 

Daavos deepened the kiss, shifting his weight so that he could push you onto your back and hover over you, and for a few brief seconds, you let yourself imagine waking up to him each morning. You imagined enjoying the comfort and warmth of sharing a bed with him every night, and of knowing that not only was he kind, he was gentle, too. 

You moaned quietly when his tongue stroked along yours, and that seemed to encourage him. Daavos pulled his hand free from beneath your body and slid it up and over your side and stomach, pushing your shirt up with it to expose your chest. He backed away enough to meet your eyes, one of his brows lifted in question as he caught his breath. 

“Please don’t stop.” You didn’t recognize your own voice, but you meant the words, and without pause, he ducked his head again and resumed the kiss. But that time, Davaos went higher with his hand, his wide palm following his fingertips as he cupped one breast. You arched your back into his touch as he swallowed your sigh of pleasure. I shouldn’t have waited so long to let him touch me.

The kiss continued as Daavos dragged a thumb over your peaked nipple. When he broke it, taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself for him to back away completely. Instead of doing that, though, he moved down your body, pressing kisses to your jaw and neck and then the hollow of your throat. 

Nothing could have prepared you for his next destination. 

Daavos settled his lips against the top swell of your breast before parting them and sucking, the tip of his tongue moving over the skin he held. And when he released it, dropping his mouth the distance necessary to reach the nipple he’d been teasing, you gasped. 

That sound turned to a low whimper when he took it between his lips and tugged, the increased arch of your back keeping him close. Your hands did that, too - the fingers of one threaded through the curls on the back of his head, the other gripping his shoulder. It would have been easy to let him keep going, to urge him even lower on your body, or to encourage him to remove his shirt and then yours before pressing your chests together. But we can’t. And we shouldn’t. 

“Wait.” It was little more than a whisper, and after another hum of pleasure at the feeling of his tongue flicking against your chest, you tried again. “Daavos, you need to stop.” He raised his head immediately, the pupils of his eyes wide in the low light. “If you don’t now, I don’t know that I’ll be able to ask you to.” 

He frowned but nodded, closing his eyes. “You are right.” I know I am. I hate it. “Forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” You tugged on his hair, bringing his attention back to you. “If circumstances were different, I …” I wouldn’t have told you to stop. “Come here.” He moved back up your body, using one hand to move your shirt back into place. Instead of laying next to you, Daavos used one arm to brace his weight and stared down at where you laid, the look in his eyes soft. “You were right.” 

“Hmm?” His lips lifted into a smirk, and Daavos waited for you to continue. Before you did, though, you raised your hand and touched his cheek, pleased at the fact that he leaned into your palm, his eyes locked with yours. 

“There is nothing like this, Daavos.” It was barely there but you saw it - the change in his features as he winced before lowering his head so that he could kiss you again, that one gentle. What was that about? It ended too soon, and he pulled back entirely before sitting up, putting both hands on the blankets to steady himself. 

It took a few seconds for you to register the motion of the ship, but when you realized that it was moving, you sat up too, heart pounding. 

“We left port.” He nodded. “When?” 

“At first light.” He wet his lips, and you looked down to see that he was spinning the ring on his finger slowly. “We’re in The Stepstones now. I hope -”

“I did say I’d go to Dorne with you.” But there I have to make a decision. “How long will it take?” 

“We will arrive tomorrow.” He took a breath. “Late morning, unless the winds change.” It hit you then that you had only 24 hours more with him - and on the ship. I’m not ready. I don’t … I don’t know that I can… “Hey. Wait, wait.” He reached out for you, taking both of your hands and squeezing. “What did I tell you the first day you were on board?”

“That I’m your responsibility.” He nodded. “And that you’d make sure I was safe.” 

“That will still be true in Dorne. You have my word.” You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that nothing would change once you were on land and he was reunited with his family. But I can’t. No matter what he says, until I see it for myself, I …  “Today, there is something you need to do.” What? “I have things to attend to with the crew. I want you to get something to eat, and then find Nymeria. She will help you pick something to wear that is going to be more appropriate in Dorne.” 

“Are you sure?” He nodded. “Can’t I just wear my -”

“You’ll be too warm. You’ll want something light and flowing. Comfortable.” He leaned in, reaching up to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You have nothing to hide.” He didn’t let you look away as a reaction to his words, instead holding your gaze until you nodded. “I’ll be busy for much of the day today. But tonight …” He took a deep breath. “I’d like to have dinner and then stay with you again, if you’ll allow it.” Why wouldn’t I allow it? 

“Yes.” You agreed immediately. “One last night.” 

Daavos stood up and reached for his socks and boots, pulling them on before he tucked in his shirt and tightened the string on his pants. “Pick anything you want to wear. Open every chest on board if you need to.” You laughed at that, some of the tension breaking - and then with one final pause in the doorway and a look back over his shoulder at you, Daavos was gone, the door closing behind him. 

The silence was unnerving. Even though you wanted nothing more than to lay back and contemplate what had happened over the previous day, you knew that you couldn’t. Because if he told me to find Nymeria, she must be expecting me. And I don’t want to make her wait. 

You gave yourself a few more minutes in bed, and then with a sigh, you climbed out of it, leaving the blankets in a pile.  

— 

“You’ll want something thin and light.” She leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, watching as you searched through another trunk. “It doesn’t need to show off a lot of skin, but …” She sighed, lips pressed together. “You may want it to. It gets warm at home, even near the coast.” 

“That’s not what I’m used to.” Dropping another almost sheer dress onto the pile, you groaned. “We don’t wear these things in Braavos. We wear layers. It’s all heavier. The colors are …” Darker. Less… vibrant. “We try not to stand out.” 

“In Dorne,” Nymeria started speaking again as she pushed away from where she was leaning and made her way to you. “The people are happy. Many of them do not have much, but they have their health. They have their families. They like to…” She dropped to her knees and began to dig through the chest, her head shaking back and forth. “They dress to celebrate life each day and not only on special occasions.” 

“But these clothes, these chests are stolen property.” You frowned. “It feels wrong to show up in Sunspear wearing clothing that came from the ship of a murdered Prince, and -” 

“This one is perfect for you.” She ignored your words, holding up a bundle of wine-red fabric accented with gold stitching on the short sleeves and bodice. “It can be worn a few different ways to make sure you’re comfortable.” She handed it to you and you gasped at the feel of the soft material, trailing your fingers over the surface of it. “And not all of this belonged to Prince Oberyn. Some of it was for trade and to be given as gifts in other cities when he visited them.” 

That made you feel better, and when you rose to your feet, letting the material unfold to reveal the whole garment, you knew that it was the one you would have chosen for yourself. “It looks expensive, Nymeria.” 

“It is. This one was made by the Martell tailor.” She pointed at the golden threads. “And it is beautiful. But it is just going to waste sitting in these trunks. Wear it. I’m sure he’ll love to see you in it.” 

“That’s your father. Isn’t it … odd to -”

“No.” She laughed, dropping down to sit atop one of the closed crates. “And once we get home, you’ll understand why.” You doubted that, but didn’t want to argue with someone that had been so kind to you. 

“Thank you for your help.”  You draped the dress over the back of a chair and then moved back to re-pack the trunks to leave them as you’d found them. “It’s already going to be strange for me to be in Dorne, but at least now I won’t stand out too much, thanks to you.” 

“You will.” She nodded, tilting her head to the side. “But that is a good thing.” What? “Let me walk you back to your room.” It was an abrupt change of topic, but you agreed, following her out of the room and back toward where you’d been staying. “When you’re done there, you should talk to him.” 

“Done?” She nodded, putting one hand on her hip and stepping backwards. “Done with what? I just have to put this on the chair inside, and then -”

“It will make sense in a few minutes.” Nymeria took a deep breath and then said your name. “He’s a good man. And everything he does, there is a reason for it.” Who? Daavos? “Remember that.” 

She didn’t say another word before turning and leaving you to stare as she went, your mouth open in shock. What is she talking about? The ship rocked, bringing you back to attention, and when you turned toward the open door, you decided that as soon as you put the dress down, you were going to find Daavos. 

But that plan fell apart after you stepped into the room and saw what was waiting for you. 

While you’d been eating and searching for new clothes, someone had been inside. The wardrobe door was once again unlocked to reveal the clothing hanging inside of it, though the yellow jacket was missing. A quick glance at the desk told you that there were stacks of papers there again, alongside what you recognized as one of the journals that you’d declined to read days earlier. What? The book was open and the pages marked with a strip of silk, showing you that ink covered the entire surface in lines of text. 

“Why is this out?” You frowned, setting the dress down at the end of the bed and then turning toward the wardrobe. “Why is this open?” There were things hanging inside - shirts like the one you’d seen Daavos wearing throughout the journey, pants and boots that were finely stitched, and a few longer robes that had almost certainly been part of the Prince’s rotation of outfits. I haven’t seen him in any of these. 

They were beautiful. The stitching was similar to the dress Nymeria had chosen for you, golden thread standing out against the darker fabric and woven into twisting floral shapes. You wondered why Daavos had left the door unlocked, but even more puzzling was why he’d placed the correspondence back on the desktop, especially after you’d made it clear you wouldn’t read any more of it. 

But curiosity got the better of you, and you moved to stand in front of the desk, looking down at the papers and books atop it. There was a single sheet of parchment separate from the others, and when you picked it up to read it, your fingers curled against the paper in surprise at the words. 

Read it all. You won’t disrespect anyone - you have my permission.

“Permission? Why would I need …” You looked down from the paper in your hand to the book on the desk, gasping in shock as you read the first line scrawled at the top of the page. 

She may think she’s won, but Cersei Lannister should have known better … It will take more than this to kill the Red Viper. 

The writing continued below, but you couldn’t focus on it, even after you’d dropped the single sheet to the floor, mouth open in disbelief. “What is …” You reached for the book, flipping backwards through the pages to compare the handwriting. “It’s the same.” Heart pounding, you dropped into the chair and scooted it closer to the desk, eyeing the pages. “It’s the same handwriting, and that means …” 

You went back and forth between the journal and the loose pages, comparing the writing from Oberyn’s letters and poems with the contents of the book. It was all the same, and even with only a short time to look at the correspondence, you were certain of it. 

The differences in the unsent letters were intentional. The longer you looked at them, the more you understood - the handwriting was disguised, though some of the phrasing used within it was the same. Whoever wrote this did this on purpose, and that only makes sense if they’re keeping their identity a secret. You took a deep breath and then let it out slowly, looking away from the desk and around the room, tapping your fingers on the wood. 

The ship was Oberyn’s. The quarters were Oberyn’s. The clothing had been Oberyn’s, too, and though it was possible that the men had been similar in size, the way that some of Daavos’ outfits fit - and how comfortable he seemed in them was a little too perfect. And his hands. They’re smooth and soft. And he doesn’t seem… You covered your mouth with one hand, flipping back to the marked pages. 

He understands kindness in a way that no pirate would.

— 

By the time you finished reading, it felt like someone had taken your entire chest between their hands and was crushing it.

You had no idea how long you’d been at it, but you did know that like he’d said multiple times in your time on the ship, there were many things Daavos needed to explain to you. “Not Daavos.” You closed the book and  then placed your hand flat against the cover, fingers spread out over the soft leather. “His name isn’t Daavos.” 

You didn’t doubt anything that you’d read. You were convinced that the journal had been kept in real time, which meant that for the almost two years since the first entry he’d marked for you to read, it had been updated on a regular basis. Sometimes the entries were mundane, just marking the passage of time or making note of weather conditions or the cities that the ship had been in. 

In other updates, you could almost feel the anger in the way the words were nearly slashed into the pages, the handwriting just barely legible as it detailed the lengths he was willing to go to to get his revenge on Cersei and the remaining Lannisters. 

There was no anger in the entries made after he’d found you. Instead, the tone of the contents turned softer and more curious, much like it had been in earlier updates regarding the people that he missed and wanted to get home to. One in particular had stood out to you - a single line in the middle of a page, made the day he’d rescued you. 

I do not want the first things she learns about me to be lies, but there is no other option. 

It was entirely possible that he’d scrambled to put together the entries as a way to further deceive you. He could have gone to great lengths to cover his tracks. But you didn’t think he was the type, especially with you - because there was no reason for him to do so. But I didn’t think he’d lie to me, either. 

The contents of the book and the letters - if they was the truth - meant that from the moment you’d woken up in his bed, Daavos had been feeding you one lie after the other. Or maybe … maybe not. Maybe he’s only lied about … 

There was only one way to find out for sure, and one thing you were certain of was that he’d been the one to leave the door unlocked and the papers on the desk. And that meant that he’d wanted you to see and read them, which meant that he was expecting you to find him and question him about what you’d read before you arrived in Dorne. Which is why he wasn’t sure I’d want to spend the night with him tonight.

“But if this is the truth, then when we get there, I’ll be meeting … oh, seven hells.” You lowered your head and buried your face in your hands, shoulders shaking. 

You took a few minutes to collect your thoughts. Before you could second guess your next moves, you pushed away from the table and stood, heading for the door - and to find the ship’s captain. 

When you stepped out and onto the main deck, you found chaos instead. 

The crew were frantically running back and forth across the wooden surface, shouting to each other as they focused on securing the sail rigging and other on-deck items. They were gathering weapons and loading them into the equipment mounted to the rails and sides of the ship, sliding metal tipped spears into place and moving additional ammunition into position nearby. 

You had no idea what was happening until you looked up and at the wheel, where Daavos was standing with two of his men and his daughters, all of them looking out and to your right. You followed their gaze and felt your blood run cold at the sight of an approaching ship, its sails dark and also unmarked. Pirates. 

When you heard your name, your attention snapped to the source, and you met Daavos’ eyes, watching as he stepped away from the wheel and closer to where you stood. “Get back inside. Lock the door to the bedroom. Protect yourself.” He shook his head twice. “I cannot do what I need to do out here if you’re -”

“No.” Your response surprised both of you, and when you crossed your arms, frowning, you went on. “If I’m locked inside and someone reaches me, I have nowhere else to go.” You shook your head, never looking away. “At least out here I’m not trapped.” His expression softened, shoulders slumping, but he nodded only moments later. 

“Arm yourself, then. You may not know how to use a weapon, but -”

“Maybe I do.” Taking a deep breath, you forced a smile. “Maybe that dagger of mine isn’t just for show.” His lips briefly turned upward, too, and when he nodded at you a second time, you didn’t linger. 

Quickly, you went back to your room and secured your belongings, taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself before sliding the dagger into your belt. I can do this. I can protect myself. You headed for the door, but before you reached it, you paused and looked back at the desk and the wardrobe. If he’s hiding his identity, I can’t leave it out in the open. 

There wasn’t much time, but you didn’t care - rushing back and stuffing the papers and journal back into the drawers and locking them before doing the same with the wardrobe. You had no idea how successfully that would keep the pirates from finding information if they reached the ship’s interior, but at the very least, it meant that there was nothing visible upon first glance. 

On the way back to the upper deck, you passed other crew members as they moved through the halls. You paused and peeked in at the women in the galley, whose fear was almost tangible. Maybe I can help protect them. 

The second ship was closer by the time you made it back outside, and nearly all of the Sand Snake’s men were in place along the rails, waiting. Daavos was with them, his posture still loose, arms hanging at his sides as he watched it sail toward you. 

You positioned yourself in front of the doorway leading inside, though you tried to keep yourself concealed using a stack of crates …and waited. 

“They’re close.” She spoke from next to you, and you looked over to see that  Nymeria was nearby, her head turned toward the open sea. “Minutes away. My father said I’m supposed to stay near you, but -”

“I’ll be fine, Nymeria.” She turned her head to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “You don’t need to look after me. I know you’ll want to fight.” 

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll fight.” She grinned. “We all will.” She paused, gesturing to you with one hand. “You picked a good spot, I’m impressed.” A compliment from her - based on what you’d learned over the previous hours - made your heart pound in your chest. Because he taught her strategy. And he’s smart, and … 

Your attention shifted back to the upper level of the boat, and even though you assumed he’d be watching the approaching ship, Daavos was instead watching you, his lips set in a thin line and the furrow between his brows deep. There was a part of you that was angry at what you’d learned - angry at him for lying, angry at yourself for not questioning anything, angry at the situation you were about to find yourself in. But you knew that it wasn’t the time to dwell on it. I can be angry after we survive this. 

You nodded once at him, giving him a smile that you hoped was able to disguise the fact that you were terrified. He returned it, but before you even had a chance to think further, Nymeria murmured from next to you. “Here they come.” 

The second ship pulled up alongside yours, and you watched as multiple men used the sail rigging to swing from it and onto the Sand Snake, boots hitting the deck with solid thunks that turned into the clanging of swords as the fight began. 

You tried to count, but lost track when you reached thirty new pirates, and with some shock, you realized that the other ship was larger than yours. That meant more men - and more of a challenge, even for highly trained sailors and fighters. 

And that’s what your crew were, you realized as you watched them fight. 

They didn’t fight sloppily - their movements were precise and almost coordinated, the attacks targeted as they attempted to keep the pirates from advancing from the outskirts of the deck to the interior. Nymeria was almost vibrating beside you, her hand on the grip of her dagger as she eyed the chaos around you. 

“Nymeria.” You leaned over, reaching out to touch her arm. “Go. You’re much more valuable in the fight than you are standing here to watch over me.”

“My father will -” 

“You are a Sand Snake. This is what he prepared you for.” Her eyes widened. “He’s been away for too long, and he’s too close to home for it to end like this.” You took a deep breath and nodded again. “Dorne needs its Red Viper, and he needs you.” 

Her eyes brightened at your words, her smile knowing. “Thank you.” She nodded, wetting her lips. “Be careful.” And without another word, Nymeria darted away and toward the fight, unsheathing her dagger as she moved. You had no idea if it was the right call, but it felt like it was, and when you looked away from the fighting on your level and back to where he stood, you watched as Daavos sparred with two men, the worried look gone from his face and replaced with a cocky smile. 

He moved in a circle, almost taunting them as he crossed one foot over the other and sized up the new arrivals, the weapon in his hands - a gleaming spear - flashing in the sunlight as he jabbed it forward. You sensed no fear in him, and with some surprise, you gasped when he moved closer, almost eliminating the distance between himself and his assailants. 

They had longswords, and you immediately noticed that it put them at a disadvantage thanks to the weight of the weapons. One of them fell after another strike by Daavos, the dark haired man laughing as his opponent stumbled over the body in an attempt to avoid it. And when he lunged forward, extending his leg in a sweeping motion and the pirate toppled over, you swore in relief, eyes on the red-tinged blade as it arced downward, striking its target. Two down. That’s good.

Your attention shifted again when you caught movement on your right, two more men climbing over the railing and onto the deck, immediately pulling out curved blades as they advanced toward Nymeria and the men she was fighting with the help of another crew member. 

You had a choice - remaining quiet and risking them taking her by surprise or giving away your position and warning her - and without thinking twice, you opened your mouth, shouting her name. “Nymeria - two more, behind you!” She spun in a circle and you caught her laugh, the girl raising her free hand and motioning the men closer, the gesture clearly meant to taunt them. 

Only one took the bait though, lowering his head as he advanced. The other turned his attention toward you, his lips curling upward in a sneer while his hand made its way to the weapon attached to the belt at his waist. “Well hello there.” 

You were terrified, but tried to keep your expression even, taking one step back so that there were only inches between you and the doorway. You can do this. It’s only one man. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and then moved your hand to the hilt of your weapon, fingers curled loosely around it. 

Nymeria and the other crew member were still fighting the three men in the distance, and the air was filled with the sounds of shouting and clanging weapons - but you tried to ignore it all and instead focus on your opponent. “What do we have here?” He stopped a few feet away, looking you up and down. “Protecting the doorway? What’s inside? Must be something good.”

“You won’t find out.” Your voice was stronger than you anticipated, and when you shifted your weight, planting both feet, you actually felt confident. “Turn around. Go back to your ship.” He laughed at you, stepping closer. “Stop.” 

“Make me.” He lunged for you and you stepped to the side enough that he missed, pulling the dagger out and brandishing it. The pirate laughed, collecting himself as he straightened up. His weapon of choice moved back and forth between his hands, and you realized with some shock that he was trying to confuse you, distracting you with the movement instead of focusing on him. That won’t work. 

“You think I won’t?” You took a breath, keeping your eyes locked with his. “Try that again.” The dagger felt right in your hand - you didn’t think you’d ever used it before, but the weight of it was comfortable, like you’d trained to learn to use it. Wyllem? No. That’s not right. 

The pirate reached out again and you batted his weapon away, still thinking. You heard a voice in your head - faint but firm, the tone lilting and making your chest ache a little. All men are made of water. Look with your eyes. Hear with your ears. 

The pirate was determined - you saw it in the set of his shoulders and the depth of his stare. He would do everything he could to get past you and into the corridors of the ship, and if that happened, it meant that you’d let him. “It’s a fuckin’ shame I don’t have more time with yeh.” He laughed, the expression his face a sneer. “I’d enjoy that, I think.” 

“You’ll enjoy nothing.” You lunged, too, though it was only halfway, wanting to ease him back a step or two, and it worked. His brows rose and his smile widened, cracked lips splitting with the motion. “You chose the wrong ship.” Swift and sudden. He tossed the weapon back to his other hand and swung, forcing you to lean back. But instead of actually retreating, you darted forward before he could reset, twisting the blade to the side and aiming for the bared skin at the top of his chest, just above the buttons of his tattered shirt. The water leaks out and then they die. 

Your dagger pierced the pirate’s skin with surprising ease, and you heard him gasp, though you didn’t back off or remove the blade. Instead you dragged it downward, widening the wound you’d created while the two of you toppled to the deck with a crash. He was screaming, the sound loud since it was happening right in your ear, and you were dimly aware of a searing pain in your side. What do we say to the God of Death? 

You straddled the pirate, pulling the dagger free and raising it above your head, both hands wrapped around the hilt before you brought it back down. It went through his throat that time, his arms immediately going limp and his weapon clattering free as he stilled beneath you. “Not today.” You whispered the words, lowering your head and closing your eyes. 

You could still hear fighting around you, the sound of men and women shouting as the battle raged, but when you looked up, you saw Daavos striding toward you, his shirt darkened with blood and a smear of it across his neck and jaw. He held a different weapon - that one a knife - and without missing a step, he turned to the right and extended his arm, nicking the exposed skin of the forearm of one of the pirates that was engaged with another crew member. Poison. His blades are always poisoned.

“You killed a man.” He stopped a few steps from where you knelt, and while you stared up at him, you realized that you were checking him for wounds. The blood isn’t his. “With only two strikes. You weren’t afraid, and -”

“Fear cuts deeper than swords.” You repeated the words you’d heard countless times before, closing your eyes as you nodded at the memory of your tutor. “The First Sword of Braavos taught me that.” Thank you, Syrio. 

“You are bleeding.” He reached a hand out, palm up. “Let me help you.” I’m what? But when you opened your eyes, you saw that he was right - a jagged tear in the side of your shirt exposed torn skin, and when you cautiously reached to touch it, you hissed when your fingers made contact. He stabbed me. When we fell, he - “You must get up.” He blinked, swallowing hard. “I know there is much to talk about, but for now, we need to… finish these men off. Can you get up and stay close?” 

You nodded back, reaching for him and letting him pull you to your feet, his fingers wrapped tightly around yours, though they didn’t linger. When you got your bearings, you looked around and saw that your ship’s crew had things under control, despite a few visible injuries. They were herding the pirates toward the stern of the Sand Snake, and you and Daavos joined them, slowly advancing. 

There were only eight men left fighting by the time you reached the back railing, and when four of them threw down their weapons and dropped to their knees, you watched as Obara and Nymeria broke away from the rest of you, dragging those men to the side with some help from two others. Daavos stepped forward toward the remaining pirates, stopping far enough away that their weapons couldn’t reach him. 

“Surrender.” He slipped the knife he’d been using back into the sheath on his belt and then crossed his arms, tilting his head to one side. “You are defeated. Surrender now and we will let you live.” 

“No you won’t.” One of them laughed, gesturing with both hands. “You shouldn’t. Just letting us get back on our ship, and -”

“I said we would let you live. I said nothing about you getting back on your ship.” He took a breath and then looked to his right, jerking his chin toward the other vessel before looking back at his crew. “Board it. Search it. Bring anything of value back here and then burn it.” He leaned forward, eyeing the prisoners as four of his men agreed and then moved to follow his orders. “And when that is done, we’ll put you on a raft and set you adrift. There are plenty of islands in the Stepstones. I’m sure you’ll find one of them eventually.” 

Despite the pain you were in - the burn mounting by the minute, even with your hand firmly pressed against your side - you grinned at his words. My raft. He’s going to put them in my raft. The four men protested, but Daavos didn’t stick around to hear it. Instead, he turned back to look at you, his expression softening. 

“Come with me. We’ll go to the healer, and -”

“No.” You winced, looking down at your side. “I’d like you to do it yourself.” He was stunned but agreed immediately, gesturing for you to follow him toward the door leading inside. The halls were still deserted, but as you passed doorways, they cracked open, people peering out at you. You’re safe. You’re all safe now. 

When you reached the bedroom, he opened the door for you , waiting until you’d walked inside to follow. “I can leave this open, if you prefer it. I don’t want to make you feel … uncomfortable.” Despite the obvious concern about your wound, he was still cautious, and you appreciated it. Because he’s been lying to me and he knows that I know. 

“You can close the door. I’ll need to lift my shirt for you to clean and bandage it.” You paused and then ducked your head, heart pounding. “Your Grace.” 

The room was silent for a few seconds, and then he moved, reaching out to use the tips of his fingers to bring your chin level and forcing you to meet his eyes. “You do not need to be so formal with me. Not here, on this ship. Not in Dorne, not…” He paused. “Well, maybe in front of Doran, but…” That made him smile and your lips quirked upward in return. “Let me take care of that for you and then we can talk.” 

You nodded, still making eye contact until you sat down on the edge of the bed. He busied himself with the pitcher of water on the table and some of the containers on the shelves, his back to you. You lifted your shirt enough so that you could look at your side, gasping at the sight of your injury. It was still oozing blood, the edges jagged, and it was much bigger than you’d imagined. I didn’t even realize that he hurt me. I was so focused on making sure he stayed down. 

“You were very brave.” He was in front of you again, hands full of things you knew he’d use to treat you. “It’s almost like you’ve fought before.” 

“I haven’t.” You inhaled deeply through your nose, watching as he pulled a stool up to the bedside and sat. “I didn’t even know if I’d know how to use that dagger until it was happening, but … I knew that I couldn’t let him past me and into the ship.”

“Nymeria was supposed to stay with you.” He leaned in, using the dampened corner of a cloth to wipe blood from your skin. “I’ll have to speak to her. She -”

“I told her to go.” You grunted at his touch, wincing at the fact that even though he was being gentle, it hurt. “It wouldn’t have helped anyone to have her stuck looking after me. She was more useful… seven hells that hurts. She was more useful fighting alongside your men.” You watched his fingers as they moved over your skin, probing gently along the front of your body and then the back. “This was not her fault, Oberyn.” 

His hands stilled at the sound of your voice, and you were stunned at how easily the name came from your mouth - and how right it sounded. “I’ve waited days to hear you call me that.” He whispered your name, pausing before he continued. “I’ve waited so long to hear anyone call me that, and -”

“Daavos didn’t suit you.” You gritted your teeth at the feeling of some sort of liquid as it stung your skin, forcing yourself to look away while he worked so that you weren’t tempted to look at your wound. “Just like Myriah didn’t suit me.” That got a chuckle out of him, and for a few minutes, Oberyn worked in silence, cleaning you up. He must have studied healing at the Citadel. It goes along with poisons, and everyone knows he achieved that link. 

It didn’t take him long to bandage your wound, and when he finished, you straightened up when he did, watching as he tidied up the supplies he’d used and put the bloodied rags into a bowl. There was tension in the room between you, and while you were angry at him for concealing the truth, a large part of you understood why he’d done what he’d done. And I’ll understand more when he tells me everything. 

“Give me your hands.” You took his when he held them out, and he helped you back to your feet. That time, he didn’t let go as soon as you were steady. Instead, he raised one of yours until the back was level with his lips. You met his eyes and because you didn’t say anything, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to your knuckles before speaking again. 

“My name is Prince Oberyn Martell. I am the younger brother of Doran Martell, Lord of Sunspear.” He stood all the way up, lowering your hands, but he still didn’t let go. “Despite what the rest of the realm believes, I am very much alive… and it is a pleasure to meet you.” 

— 

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 12

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Word : 6k

Masterlist

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Tuesday, November 3; 6:15 AM - Ona and Alexia's room.

I stand straight as a rod beside my bed. Bronze has just entered. I’m glad I haven’t lost my morning routine. I didn’t face any difficulty except that waking up was hard and abrupt due to the alarm. Luckily, my day of rest yesterday helped me recover and find motivation again. The disagreement with Bronze was quickly forgotten. I woke up alone. She had let me sleep while she went back to work. I found out when she returned just before noon to have lunch with Engen and me. She wanted us to eat before the midday bell. At least she spared me the rush hour. After that, she allowed me to stay in her room for the rest of the day as long as I didn't venture out. I promised it wasn’t my intention. I once risked it, and it didn’t end well for me. I just wanted to keep busy with movies, which I did until dinner time. I had to stop to eat with the two instructors, as agreed with Bronze. It was hard to change her mind. I was disappointed to end the day by returning to my room. I enjoyed hiding in her room. It had become my den, isolating me from the world. Needless to say, I was worried about reintegrating with the students. Bronze accompanied me to discreetly help me bring back my things. All it took was stepping into my room for any unease to vanish, thanks to Alexia. She welcomed me like a little whirlwind, not wanting to let go. It seems she eagerly awaited my return. Bronze had kept her updated regularly, but it didn’t stop her from worrying and missing me. Today, I return to the real world. Classes resume at eight. I have a knot in my stomach just thinking about it. I still don’t feel ready to return, but I have no choice. I show no signs of distress and patiently wait for Bronze to finish her inspection. It’s almost strange seeing her so impassive and expressionless again. It wasn’t like that in her room.

You can go.

Alexia doesn’t hesitate to head to the exit. I follow, but Bronze stops me by holding my arm. I turn to face her.

How are you feeling?

Better... No more fever, no nausea. I don't have much muscle pain either... I replied.

So, are you ready?

Uh-huh. I don't have a choice anyway.

Good.

I look at her attentively, squinting slightly. She’s not like usual. I don’t know what’s different, but something seems off. There’s only one way to find out...

So, how’s my work after a week? Is it done properly, Commander? I teased.

The princess finally follows the rules; that’s good, she retorts without a hint of humor.

I frown. That’s not the response I expected. I thought she’d play along. I examine her more closely. Now that I pay attention, her eyes seem swollen. And she has visible dark circles.

Are you okay?

We recently had a discussion about friendship, Batlle. It didn’t end well, so stop trying to be friendly and go eat, she orders.

She’s clearly not herself. It’s been a long time since she called me by my last name. And for such a small matter. It’s not like I asked a personal question. She’s not well, and I can’t do anything about it. I let her go, feeling powerless. I stare at the door for a moment, completely frustrated. She just brushed me off.

Ona, you coming?

I pull myself together at my roommate's call. I expected her to be gone already. Well, whatever. Bronze is right after all. She’s not my friend. It’s not my place to worry about her, even though I do and would have liked to be there for her.

Yeah, sorry. I'm coming, I say, returning her smile.

Our relationship has evolved since she learned I’m a former junkie. I feel I can trust her. I’ve grown attached to her. She seems to feel the same. She keeps saying we need to make up for the lost time of this past week.

What did Bronze want? she asks.

Just checking if everything’s okay, I shrug. She’s just doing her job.

I see.

She smiles at me in a way I can’t quite describe. I don’t dwell on it. I’m eager to get to the cafeteria. I’ll see the others, and my appetite is back. This will be my first breakfast after a long week of abstaining. I intend to savor it. When we reach the table, everyone is happy to see me. They ask if I’m feeling better. It seems no one knows about my withdrawal except Alexia and Leah. Wiegman and the four educators in charge must have covered it up as a flu absence. At least I’m spared the cliché stories about my past and pitying looks. Everything goes well this new morning. I just have a lot of questions about Bronze, who completely ignored me when she passed our table. I hope it’s not my fault. I don’t see what I did wrong, except for that conversation the other night. She didn’t seem resentful yesterday. Amidst all this, time flies. It’s almost time to return to class. We walk through the hallways to our first lesson.

I’ll join you, I tell Alexia. I need to use the restroom.

As you wish, but hurry up. It’s almost time.

Yeah, I’ll be quick.

I leave her to enter the nearest restroom. I need to gather my thoughts for the start of this morning. I first use a stall, then wash my hands. I take the opportunity to splash water on my face. Why am I in such a state over something so minor? I feel weird, like I have a bad premonition. Damn responsible person. She annoys me by making me question so much. I hit the counter in frustration. I wipe my face and leave the restroom. I sigh, seeing the empty hallways. Great, now I’m late. Perfect for a return. I walk slowly and heavily toward my classroom. A few minutes won’t make a difference since I know I won’t be allowed in anyway. When I reach the door, I knock. It opens shortly after.

Miss Batlle makes her grand return and in style, the teacher remarks right away. You start well after more than a week of absence.

Sorry for being late.

Save your pretty words and go to the instructors’ office, will you?

Of course. I know the way! I retorted sarcastically.

What did I say? I wouldn’t be accepted. I reverse course to the office of Bronze and Engen, which I know very well. I had to do archiving with Bronze there on my first day before moving boxes upstairs. I knock on the already open door to announce my presence. It’s a large space where two desks face each other. There are several filing cabinets. Nothing exceptional. There are more than one such room on the first floor. Six to be exact. One for each instructor pair. Naturally, I’m assigned to my responsible person’s. I enter the room, and Engen looks up to greet me. She’s alone, which is strange. Bronze should be here.

Batlle, she calls, surprised. Already on the first day? What brings you here this time?

Late, I grumble, sitting on the chair in front of her desk.

Late? I saw you in the halls earlier. Did I allow you to sit?

Urgent need, I half-lied. I’m not standing until Bronze arrives. Especially since I just got back.

Bronze won’t be here today. I’ll handle you for the day.

What? I blurted out in surprise.

Is that a problem?

Now this is the last straw! She raises her head from her paper, arching an eyebrow. She’s not the problem. It’s Bronze’s absence. It’s a first! She’s never missed a day since I arrived.

Okay, what’s wrong with her? Is it me?

Excuse me? she frowns. What are you talking about?

Why is she absent?

She’s entitled to a day off, isn’t she? Especially after the week she had because of you. And why am I even telling you this? It’s none of your business.

I noticed she wasn’t well this morning...

I lower my head, feeling uneasy under Engen’s scrutiny. I have regrets and don’t even know why. Maybe I spoke too much when I hear her chuckle. I must look ridiculous. I bury my head in my collar, not daring to look at her.

I don’t know which of you two worries more about the other, she murmurs.

What?

Did I hear right? Bronze worries about me? Why would she? She was asking me to keep my distance this morning... So, she talks about me to Engen. This thought warms my heart.

It has nothing to do with you, Batlle. She just has a day off to rest from her week, she explains. Anyway, that’s the end of it. How many hours are you missing due to your refusal?

Two.

Well... she murmurs, thinking. Since she’s absent and she fell behind because of you... You have two hours to sort and alphabetize Bronze’s files, she says, pointing to my responsible person’s desk.

Bronze is more original with punishments.

Stop arguing, Batlle, and get to work.

Just as friendly as Bronze... I sigh and change places, settling into my manager's office chair. Engen looks at me strangely before a sly smile stretches across her lips. She doesn't ask me to move, surprisingly. She continues her work while I focus on the task she assigned me. I don't even know where to start given the number of files scattered on the desk. I don't ask for help and try to do my work without flinching. This place is literally changing me. Just a few days ago, I would never have accepted a punishment without complaining.

Tuesday, November 3; 6:45 PM - Cafeteria

I sit down at my seat, placing my tray on the table. My first instinct is to look at Bronze's table on the educators' side. She wasn't there all day. I know because I was late again this afternoon. Engen had to take care of me. I like her a lot, but Bronze is irreplaceable when it comes to creative punishments. I straighten up in my chair when I finally see her. She's there, at her table, with Engen! We are directly across from each other. It feels like our spots were meant to be. She talks to her colleague without acknowledging me. I hope Engen doesn't say anything. She noticed my remorse because she assured me all day that I had nothing to worry about. I let go, realizing I won't get any sign from her, and try to follow the conversation happening around the table.

"Seriously, it's you?" says Alba.

"You're really in trouble, girl ! They're looking for the culprit, and it looks bad according to the rumors!" adds Lotte.

"I don't care at all," says the one in question, who is none other than Leah.

"What did you do this time?" I ask, getting to the point.

"Oh, nothing very interesting. I just tagged the sign and the walls of the establishment."

"What!?"

"It's not just laps around the field you'll get this time," laughs Alexia. "What are you playing at, seriously? Are you trying to compete with Ona for the number of punishments or what?"

Without thinking, I stand up from my chair under the incomprehensible eyes of my friends. It's my only chance. Too bad if I regret it later. Hopefully, I won't feel bad in the meantime. I walk to the educators' area. I find myself between the two instructors and stare directly into Bronze's eyes. I know Engen is also looking at me, but she's not the one I'm interested in.

"It was me," I blurt out into the void.

"It was you what, Batlle?" Engen intervenes.

"The tags. I did them."

"What the—"

Bronze raised her hand to signal her colleague to be quiet. For the first time since this morning, her eyes land on me. Her green irises pierce through me, giving me goosebumps.

"Really?" she finally asks. "I leave you alone for one day, and you manage to do something like this? Why come forward only now?"

"To take responsibility for my actions. It would be stupid for someone else to face the consequences in my place," I respond confidently.

She looks me up and down. I really don't know if I made the right choice by accusing myself without reason. One thing is certain: it was the only way to get her attention.

"Very well. Go clear your tray," she orders. "I'll deal with you tonight, no matter what state you're in. And you won't even be able to complain tomorrow morning when you wake up."

I manage a smile. My plan worked! My God, it worked! I nod and backtrack to my table. I almost trot with impatience. I'm met with confused looks from everyone at the table.

"What just happened?" asks Alba.

"I pleaded Leah's case by accusing myself."

"What?!" Leah reacts. "But why did you do that? Besides, you're not even really in a state to—"

"Don't worry about it," I cut her off. "Be glad you won't get punished!"

I reassure her ass he knows about my situation regarding the withdrawal. I feel good for a first day, so it should be fine. I think I'm the only person who is eager to get a punishment from Commander Bronze.

"Later, guys."

I go to clear my tray where Bronze is already waiting at the end of the line. I feel her eyes on me the whole time; it's unsettling. Once I'm done, she turns her back to head towards the exit. I follow her without thinking. I take advantage of the silence to observe her. I'm glad to see she has regained her color since this morning. We pass by my room where she orders me to put on sportswear. The commander is back, and I'm almost happy about it. I hurry to change, and we head to the gym. I bite my lip to avoid complaining. I asked for this. It will help me get my muscles working again after lying in bed for a week. Leah will really owe me one for taking the blame for her! We wander through the corridors of the establishment, which are almost unfamiliar to me. I haven't had many sports classes as Bronze often punished me at the same time. We stop in front of a large door that she opens. She pushes me to discover the room. I take a step back, not seeing anything in the darkness. She prevents me from fleeing with an arm around my back and pushes me inside. I'm quickly trapped with her in the room. She turns on the lights to reveal the setting, leaving me speechless. My God, tell me I'm dreaming. We are in the climbing room. What is her goal? I turn to gauge my instructor. She smiles with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. We're starting with this, and then we'll see."

Oh my God... I feel dizzy. I hate climbing. I look at the top. It's really high. There must be at least ten meters of height there!

"What do I have to do?" I ask to be sure.

"It's obvious, Ona. You're going to climb up there," she says, pointing to the top of the wall.

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" she retorts. "Stop talking to complain, or I'll have worse in store for you later! You'll do the one at the back. I'll belay you."

"Belay me?"

"Yes, I'll hold you with a rope. I could very well let you climb alone, so be glad."

"Bronze... I can't... I'm afraid of heights," I admit.

"Not my problem," she says indifferently. "You should have thought about that before. Here, take this."

My throat tightens when she hands me a harness. She really has no pity. I imitate her and reluctantly put on the harness. We move to the back of the room to reach the last route. Damn... What mess have I gotten myself into this time? I'll never make it. I'm really afraid of heights and not just a little! Just being on a chair already scares me. I inspect the wall in front of me, covered in numerous holds. Just imagining myself up there makes me dizzy. I look to my left to see an insurmountable wall named Bronze.

"Sorry, but I really can't..."

"It's not negotiable, you should know that. Just don't look down and trust me. Come here."

She ties the loop of my harness with the route's rope. She does it with such ease. I can no longer escape. She gives it a sharp tug to check the knot's solidity. I'm starting to panic. Bronze seems so comfortable with any sport, but that's not my case. She finally takes the other end of the rope to attach it to a metal loop she ties to her harness.

"There, we're ready. You can start. I gave you the easiest route. The holds are big and easy to reach. »

I sigh as I face the climbing wall. The last time I climbed was back in high school, and I was far from being any good. I start to climb, using one handhold, then two, then three... and I'm already stuck. I'm less than a meter off the ground, and I don’t know where to put my foot next.

"To the right, Batlle," she directs me.

"That's way too far!"

"Of course not. Use your legs to climb, not just your hands. You’ll never make it otherwise."

"What kind of punishment is this, seriously?" I snap.

"Alright, enough complaining. Climb that damn wall now. We’re not leaving until you reach the top."

And I know she's serious. Bronze likes things to be finished. Especially punishments. There’s never been one that I’ve abandoned halfway. I place my foot on the hold she indicated and muster all my remaining strength.

"See, you can do it when you try."

I continue climbing higher and higher. I had to stop several times after making the mistake of looking down. Bronze had to reassure me and encourage me to keep going. I have no idea what time it is, but it’s definitely late. I struggle to grasp another hold, and finally, I reach the top! I let out a proud yell, which makes Bronze laugh. It’s the first time I’ve succeeded, and it’s all thanks to her. She made sure I didn’t give up. I sigh in relief.

"Can you lower me down now?"

"No."

"What do you mean, 'no'!?"

I wish I could see her face, just to know if she’s joking. Her voice doesn’t sound like she’s joking. Unfortunately, I can't verify it. I cling to the wall, trying not to let go.

"No. I’m not letting you down. Not yet."

"This isn’t funny! I’m really scared and can hardly hold on. Everything hurts!"

"I’ve got you. You’ll stay up there until you explain why you took the blame for something you didn’t do."

"Excuse me!? What makes you think that? I did it!"

"Those tags were done Sunday night, Ona. Last I checked, we spent the evening together. Besides, the drawings look like they were done by a kindergartener. It would be a disgrace for someone who practices art as a hobby. To top it off, we already found out who the culprit was just before dinner."

Damn it! She got me like a rookie. Here I am, stuck against this wall like an idiot. She brings me back to reality.

"So, Ona. Don’t mess with me and tell me the truth!"

I’m literally backed into a corner. I close my eyes and rest my head against the wall. I have no choice, I have to talk. My limbs are giving out, and my head is spinning. I’m trembling all over. I’ll lose my grip soon.

"I wanted to get your attention..."

"Get my attention?" she repeats, surprised. "Why?"

"You ignored me all day, and I noticed you weren’t doing well this morning... I was afraid it was because of me, even though Engen assured me otherwise."

"You can’t be serious, Ona? You got yourself accused of something so serious just to get to me!?"

"It seemed to be working until now..."

"You’re such an idiot!" she says bitterly. "But you’re brave, I’ll give you that. Alright, let go of the holds. I’ll lower you down."

"I can’t."

"Don’t be ridiculous. Let go!"

"I’m scared!"

She sighs as I cling tighter to the wall. I can’t help it; it’s stronger than me.

"Ona, there’s a reason I made you climb up there."

"Oh really?" I sneer bitterly.

"It’s a trust exercise. I need you to trust me, not just in climbing."

"Stupid exercise!"

I’m on the verge of a panic attack. I’m holding back tears that are welling up in my eyes.

"Ona, please, I won’t let you fall, I promise."

My trembling won’t stop. It’s an awful feeling. I close my eyes to fight against myself. I know I can trust her. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. I take a deep breath before letting go without thinking. I squeak as I swing back and forth, hitting the wall. She stabilizes me before slowly lowering me down. I force myself to open my eyes to see myself floating in the air. My heart is pounding with fear, but it’s not so bad after all. I’m relieved once my feet touch the ground. I collapse against the wall, trying to regain my composure. Bronze smiles at me and crouches down to untie my knot. She really got me this time. She knew it wasn’t me. She just wanted to corner me to make me talk. She surprises me by placing her hand on my forehead to check my temperature.

"You haven’t had any more episodes?"

"No, it was fine today..." I murmur.

"Hmm. Engen told me that you were late. Was that also to get my attention?" she teases.

"The first one wasn’t. Well... not intentionally. The second was to check if you were absent for the day."

She raises an eyebrow before bursting into laughter. It’s a genuine, pleasant laugh. She shakes her head before leaning against the other wall. It’s true it would’ve been smarter to choose the other wall. The climbing wall’s features hurt my back, but I’m too exhausted to move now. I watch her pull her legs up and wrap her arms around them. It’s a very childlike position for her. I savor the silence that follows. I realize I missed her presence today. It doesn’t stop me from feeling stupid for confessing my obsession with her. I watch her stare at an invisible point in front of her, looking completely absent. Several minutes pass before she speaks again.

« Why?"

« What do you mean, « why »? »

« Why did you want to get my attention? » she repeats, finally looking at me intently. « It’s really confusing. Just a week ago, you hated me. »

I lower my head, thinking. She's right. It is confusing given everything I’ve said to her. I don’t even know when my feelings changed. I nervously play with my fingers. Admitting my true feelings would reveal too much. I sigh as I look at the ceiling.

« You’re the only one who cares about me here. Well, no. You’re actually the only one who’s cared about me for years, I correct myself. I appreciate the attention you give me, even if it’s sometimes annoying to have you on my back. I’m sorry for getting so worked up the other night. I felt like everything I thought was wrong and was afraid you’d become cold again like in the beginning . »

« What exactly were you thinking? »

"Well... I thought you were only helping me because you were ordered to. That you were doing it professionally and not because you liked me. »

« Of course, I’m doing it professionally, but not just that, Ona. By accepting Wiegman’s offer, I volunteered to supervise you and enforce the rules. That’s all. The rest is from me. »

I feel remorse now. I lower my head to hide my embarrassment. I’ve been making a fuss over something that doesn’t exist. I suddenly feel really foolish.

« If I really didn’t care about you, I would have let them send you to a rehab center like Wiegman and your mother planned, she adds. I dissuaded them because I trusted you, and I was right to. »

« Thank you…"

« I’m not doing much. »

« Yes, more than you think. »

« Like what, for example? »

« You’re the only one who can stand up to me. You punish me without mercy and manage to make me comply with orders I would never have followed before... You’re also the only one who pushes me to succeed in what I undertake. You show that you trust me, and that reassures me », I conclude.

I’m a real idiot. She wants the best for me, and I keep digging myself deeper. I watch her as she remains silent. She seems lost in thought.

« You have a very contradictory personality, you know? »

« What do you mean? »

« You act like a tough girl who doesn’t care about anything and is afraid of nothing, but after spending time with you... I’ve discovered that you have a serious lack of self-confidence. My punishments have chipped away at your armor. »

I don’t respond. There’s nothing to say since she hit the nail on the head. Bronze is very observant. She just figured out that side of me without me wanting her to. I bite my lip.

« I wanted to thank you for what you did for me this week. »

« It’s normal. »

« I must admit it really pissed me off to see you so down this morning. You don’t hesitate to help me when I have issues, and I can’t even do anything for you. I thought about it so much that I went over every situation from last week, fearing I had done something wrong. »

I need to get this off my chest so she knows how I feel. I felt bad for her. I’m aware that our relationship is evolving, but I hope our attitudes won’t change. I really enjoy annoying her. It’s become my favorite pastime here. It’s fun, and I love that she takes care of me... Even if the punishments aren’t always great.

« I got dumped last night. »

I look at her in disbelief. I don’t know what surprises me more: the fact that she’s confiding something very personal or that she broke the rules. I had already asked her questions about herself, and she had kindly brushed me off.

« The commander dares to break rules? » I reply with humor. « And seriously, did someone actually want you?! »

« Of course they did! » she huffs, hitting me on the shoulder.

« Sorry, »I chuckled. « It was too tempting! »

I managed to get a small laugh out of her. She rests her head against the wall and closes her eyes. She really seems affected. I should have noticed this morning.

« He’s just an idiot. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. »

« Oh really?" she chuckles, looking at me.

« Absolutely. Even though you’re a super annoying commander... I imagine that outside these walls, you must be a nice person. I got a little glimpse of that this week. »

« I’ll remember those words. »

« Hey! That’s out of the question! I’m trying to cheer you up here! »

I managed to get her to laugh a little more. It’s nice to hear, and it reassures me at the same time.

« You say that, but you don’t even know what happened. For all you know, I could be the worst bitch. »

« Is that so?"

« I don’t think so. Only with you when you annoy me. »

« That’s mean. »

« Realistic. »

I smile at her response. I love having these casual, spontaneous conversations with her. I know it’s short-lived, so I’m enjoying it. As soon as we leave this room, I’ll have to deal with the commander again. She’s too obsessed with the rules to be any different.

« How long were you clean before last weekend? »

I sit up at this question. It seems like we’re in a moment of trust. I turn to face her and let my head rest against the wall. Her eyes are looking at me intently, very interested in my forthcoming answer. She’s taking a risk by asking me to open up... I sigh and play with a strand of my hair.

« I left the rehab center on September 18. One year after I entered. »

« Just a week before you came here? » she’s surprised.

« I guess my mother preferred to send me to this hole at the other end of the country rather than risk seeing me relapse, » I chuckle bitterly.

« I’m glad she did »

« Really? » I frown.  « I could have done without a military school. Just like the rehab, actually. It was really my worst experience. »

« Drugs are just a never-ending spiral once you taste them. I hope you won’t fall back into it. »

« It was just a rough patch, that’s all…"

I murmur this as I pull my knees to my chest. I’m very thoughtful about everything I’ve been through.

« «You complain about school, but if she hadn’t sent you here, I wouldn’t have met this cheeky kid you are. »

« That’s true, » I say with a shy smile. « You’re right. »

We enjoy the calming silence after all these emotions. It’s been a long time since I confided in anyone other than Mapi. She didn’t even have to drag it out of me. Mapi got the full story. She won, as she’s now the only one who knows everything. It’s no wonder she’s my best friend. She’s the only one I trust implicitly. I know she’ll never let me go, or she would have done so already.

« Still, I know about your love life before your first name. »

« In your dreams, I’m not telling you ».

« Why? You’ve already broken many rules tonight. One more or less…"

« You’ll find out sooner or later, but not tonight. You already know more than you should. »

I give up to keep the good mood going. I’m curious to know, but it will have to wait. I’ve tried to find out, but no one knows. It feels like a golden rule, but it seems ridiculous.

« If you don’t tell me, then tell me why such a beautiful girl is still single? »

« I don’t think t— »

« Oh come on », I interrupt. « You can talk about it to someone. And besides, who am I going to tell? I have no friends here. »

« No friends? What about the Putellas sisters or Leah and others? » she lists.

« Well, alright... I might have friends... Actually, I didn’t really want any attachments... I hate relationships; they always end up causing pain. Except Alexia didn’t get that memo... She can be very endearing. »

« We’re not so different after all, » she murmurs.

« Why do you say that? »

« I’ve been criticized for not being present enough and not investing enough in my relationships, she confesses. That weekend I couldn’t come home was the last straw. I’m not good with attachments either. I’m actually more of a feelings handicap who runs away at the first sign of trouble. »

« So I’m to blame."

"What? No, of course not! » she quickly responds. « It was planned that I wouldn’t come home the weekend you returned. Wiegman ordered me to keep an eye on you the whole week. I informed them of my absence well in advance. It was just that things were already bad before, and the news didn’t sit well. It’s in no way your fault, I assure you. »

I am to blame, even if she says otherwise. If she had returned, she might still be in a relationship. Can I be selfish for not wanting things to change? If none of this had happened, we wouldn’t be here sharing private conversations. I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. I feel comfortable around her. I no longer feel exposed when confiding in her.

« Do you promise that everything we’ve talked about stays between us? » she asks.

« Of course », I promise. « And I’m not the type to break my promises. »

Time continues to pass. I hope it’s not too late. I’m dead tired, though. This first day has really worn me out. To think that just yesterday I spent the entire day in bed.

« I’m going to take you back to your room, she breaks the silence by standing up. You need to rest. »

« Do you work tomorrow? »

"I suppose I have no choice if I want you to behave. You might try to get my attention. »

« Oh, come on, I chuckle. »

I can tell she’ll bring up this story more than once. I accept her hand that helps me up. We put the equipment back in place before leaving our confessional space. Students are still hanging around in the hallways, which means it’s not yet past ten o’clock. Bronze accompanies me to my room, and I’m glad to see that it’s empty.

« Well then... Good night », she says.

« Thanks for everything, Bronze, » I reply softly.

« See you tomorrow, Batlle. »

I smile as she ruffles my hair. I don’t like the gesture, but coming from her, it doesn’t bother me. Once she’s gone, I head to the bathroom for a quick shower and put on my pajamas. I don’t waste any time sliding under the covers afterward. I’m physically and emotionally exhausted from the day, even though it’s better now. It was a special exchange, and I’m glad I’m the only one who knows about it. I get lost in my thoughts, but it doesn’t stop me from falling asleep effortlessly, with a smile on my lips.