#but in a way that felt very patronizing to me at least

[moonchildstyles]

complicated

y/n meets someone, only to find out that he's going to be her stepbrother

wordcount: 17.3k+

—————

(Y/N)'s mouth pinched as she looked at the aisles of wine before her. Knowing her Uncle Mick, he wasn't even going to have a sip, not when he had whisky in the cabinet instead. But, it felt wrong meeting his new girlfriend—fianceé, actually, as of last weekend—empty handed. She wanted to make a good first impression, especially since she hadn't made any serious efforts to come by and meet her until her uncle dropped the proposal on her. 

Truthfully, it was because of her uncle; he was a hopeless romantic who had told (Y/N) on more than one occasion that he had fallen in love with someone he'd just met in the years since his wife had passed. It was hard justifying taking time off from work and booking plane tickets for a short-lived relationship.

But, that obviously wasn't the case this time. He'd been raving about this woman—Anne—for the last six months. Enough so that he purchased a ring and wanted to marry her as soon as they could thread something together. And her Uncle Mick wanted her to be a part of the whole process—she was the daughter he never had, he'd said. 

So, even if he wasn't going to take a single sip of whatever rosé she picked out, she was going to do it anyway. She needed to get to know this woman and let her know that she was going to be welcomed with open arms into this small, but loving family. 

Perusing down the aisle, (Y/N)'s eye caught a bottle with a golden foiling around the cork. The label was especially pretty, printed in French with a year on it that would take at least a couple of minutes for (Y/N) to do the math on. It was pretty, and undoubtedly more worth more money than she planned on spending tonight. But, that was the point, she thought. 

She'd make more money, but her uncle wasn't going to get married again. (She hoped, anyway).

The only problem? It was on the very top shelf and nowhere near the edge. She wasn't going to be able to reach it unless she called for help from one of the employees wandering around here. They didn't particularly seem to be in the mood, though. She didn't blame them, what with this being how they spent their Friday evening, watching every patron come in looking for some liquor to kick the night off. 

Looking around, she wondered if there was anything around here, one of those pokers that many retail spaces used to get high up t-shirts off the top racks. She knew the idea was stupid before she even finished the thought, but she couldn't completely ignore the hope that fizzled in her chest. 

Okay, maybe if she stood on the tips of her toes and reached really hard, then jumped she could reach it. Yeah, she could try that. Hopefully, she would only be able to reach the bottle she wanted and not knock over the plenty of other ones lining the shelves. 

With her hand blindly reaching the top of the shelf, fingertips grazing the empty surface, (Y/N) readied herself to jump as high and controlled as she could. 

"Do y'need help?"

The stranger's voice knocked her out of her plan. At the end of the aisle was a man with curling brown hair looking at her with a pinch between his brows. He had a white button up covering his torso, a light blue cardigan slouching over his form. He didn't wait for his answer before he started towards her.

"Um," she started, dropping to stand flat on her feet, "Yeah, actually. Thanks." 

"Of course," he smiled, relief unstitching his brows. "'M happy I caught y'before y'jumped. I don't think that would have worked out like y'hoped." 

"Me neither," she laughed, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder, "But thank you. I was trying to reach the gold one on top." 

His smile was kind as he effortlessly reached for the bottle. (Y/N) couldn't help the way her eyes dropped over him, appraising every inch. Rings glittered on his hands, some with gaudy gems, others nothing more than brassy bands. The cardigan she had seen across the aisle was actually a knitted depiction of a cloudy sky, fluffs of clouds stitched into the material. His trousers were a warm brown, matching the belt cinched around his waist and shin of his shoes. As he reached, his hand had a cross inked between his thumb and forefinger. 

He was really cute. Really, really cute. In a real way, she considered if he was a model. Why a model like him, with a perfect nose and shattered green eyes, would be in the wine aisle of the liquor store of her home, she had no idea, but she was grateful for whatever circumstances put him here. 

Blinking away from him in hopes of concealing just how intently she had been staring at him, (Y/N) graciously took the offered bottle in his outstretched hand. 

"Thanks," she smiled, "Thinking now, I don't think my plan would have worked." 

The man in front of her settled in, hands in pockets as he gazed down at her. "Yeah? Rethinking the jump?" 

"Oh yeah," she laughed, "I think my bag alone would have knocked down an entire shelf." 

A short, breathy laugh fell from his lips. "Definitely. Would've ruined your night before 's even started." He gave a pointed look to the bottle in her hand. 

"Oh no, I'm just going to my uncle's house for dinner. He probably wouldn't have even noticed if I was soaked in wine with glass stuck in my jacket as long as he had food in front of him." 

The man hummed, giving a slow drag of his eyes over her form. "I don't know. You're hard to ignore." 

Her skin was decidedly warmer under his gaze. She couldn't bite back the grin that sparked over her features. 

"In a good way?" she chirped, blinking up at him as if he were the sun and she a flower. 

He had dimples. Her breath clung to her throat. 

"Only the best," he flirted, shifting on his feet as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He hesitated before reaching for the device. A beat passed as she let him read the notification, his lips thinning before glancing up at her. "I have to get going, but... I hope this isn't weird to ask, but could I have your number? Or whatever y'would want to share?" 

The man had come off so confident, approaching her without prompting. Lazily dragging his eyes over her with his hand shrugged in his pockets, entirely sure of what he could offer her should she take him up on it. But, now, asking for any way to contact her, he had struggled to find his words. She watched as he attempted to form the best way to ask for her number, a thin smile on his lips. 

She only nodded her head. "I can give you my number." 

The man before her brightened, dimples and bunny teeth on display. "Cool," he muttered, offering his phone up the same way he had offered the wine. 

Typing in her information, she glanced at him through her lashes. "My name's (Y/N), by the way." 

"Oh, yeah," he rushed out, breathing out a huff of laughter, "That's right—names. 'M Harry." 

"Nice to meet you, Harry," she smiled, passing his phone back, "Thanks, again." 

"Yeah, yeah," he grinned, looking down at the new contact on his phone. "Of course. I'll—um—I'll text you soon. Have a nice night at your uncle's." 

"Have a nice night," (Y/N) said, biting back her own grin.

Harry hesitated in his spot for a moment, looking at her with pretty green eyes and fluttering lashes before forcing himself to take off.

He only glanced back at her twice. 

—————

Sitting in her rental car, the drive to Uncle Mick's house mapped on her phone, (Y/N) took a moment in the silence. 

What kind of romantic comedy had she just found herself in? Giving out her number to random, pretty boys she met in the liquor store of all places. If she found out this had been a bad choice later, she would blame the cloud cardigan and the shades of green in his eyes. Anyone would melt when faced with those. 

Pushing the car into drive, (Y/N) allowed herself to wonder for a moment just how long she would have to wait for him to message her. She hoped she wouldn't have to wait very long at all before she had a chance to see him again. 

—————

(Y/N) felt out of breath as she approached the front door of her Uncle Mick's house, as if she had ran here instead of driven. 

The traffic on the way here had been humbling to say the least. And to think she called his place her hometown when she had turned into the wrong subdivision twice and was shocked every time another stoplight blocked what she remembered to be a straight path home. She could do another other than watch her arrival time drift further and further than the eight o'clock they had agreed upon. 

Clutching the neck of the wine bottle, (Y/N) figured thirty minutes late was better than not showing up at all. Despite having texted her uncle when she pulled up, she still pressed the doorbell. On the other side, she heard the clattering of overgrown feet with barking following shortly after. Flipper was awake, then. 

She was stuck outside for only a minute before the knob clicked and turned. Uncle Mick pulled the door open, smiling lips and crinkled eyes the first things she saw. 

"Hi, honey," he greeted, pulling her into a hug while Flipper went crazy behind him, "You made it." 

"Hi, Uncle Mick," she smiled, feeling suddenly emotional now that she was hugging him. It had been way too long since she saw him—the man that had raised her from the age of eleven. She hugged him especially tight at the thought. "I've missed you." 

"I've missed you, too. But you're here now, and we've got dinner warming in the oven for you." His kind smile only widened when he saw her gift in hand. "And you brought wine! Did I tell you this one was my favorite?" 

(Y/N) blinked. "Since when did you have a favorite wine?" she asked, passing off the wine as she locked the door behind herself. 

Her uncle shrugged, tipping his chin up in faux-superiority. "Can't a man change, (Y/N)? Or must I always drink acetone?" 

She let out a bubbling laugh as she followed after him, petting Flipper on his shaggy head. Trailing through the living room, she could see the lighting in the dining room, the chandelier that had gone unused for most of her childhood now lit at full power. A scented candle now dotted the coffee table, along with fluffy throw pillows and a knitted blanket on the sofa. 

The entire house seemed... softened. Eased into another phase of life that included delicate edges and soft-scented air. This woman must really be something to get Uncle Mick to take down his fish of the month calendar. 

Approaching the threshold, (Y/N) braced herself to follow after her uncle. She was going to have to start the night with an apology. 

Mick started the introduction, stepping aside when he said her name as if presenting her to a ballroom instead of his fianceé. 

"Sorry, I'm late. I—" 

Her words became stuck in her throat. 

Sitting in one of the four chairs at the small table was Harry. Cloud cardigan and all. 

What the fuck was he doing here?

"You alright, kiddo?" 

Blinking back to earth, (Y/N) nodded her head. "Yeah sorry," she muttered, forcing out a laugh, "I forgot what I was saying, as I was saying it." 

A round of laughter filled the room. Including Harry's. 

Making a point to avoid the end of the table that his chair sat, (Y/N) pointed her smile at the pretty, dark haired woman sitting right next to where her uncle had set himself up. 

"Sorry," she started, again, walking around the table to meet the woman halfway. "I wish I could have come around to meet you sooner. You must be Anne." 

(Y/N) had her hand outstretched to shake, only to be pulled into a warm hug. The embrace was soft and comforting, just like the effect she seemed to have on her uncle. 

"Don't worry," the woman, Anne, smiled, "Mick has told me all about your job, so I understand. Thank you for taking the time to come down and see us. It's wonderful to finally meet you." 

She had kind eyes, hazel with shatters of a familiar green. Just the reminder had a flush plucking at her cheeks, knowing who was sitting just behind her. 

"It's really nice to meet you too, Anne," (Y/N) smiled, hoping the natural turn of the conversation wasn't the one that this would take. 

Her hopes were shot down when Anne gestured behind her, her grin only widening. 

"(Y/N), this is my son, Harry. He's down visiting from work too." 

Harry. Harry was her uncle's—who was really like her father for all intents and purposes—fianceé's son. The man that would be as close to a bother as she could get as soon as this wedding happened, was the same one she had thought about going on a date with all during the drive here. 

He seemed to have the same shock running through his system as she stood from his chair. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Nice to meet you, (Y/N)."

Boundaries were maintained as they shook hands. Even if she was, unfortunately, taken aback by how large his palm was compared to hers. Warm and encompassing around her fingers. 

Matching his gaze, she could see the matching panic she was sure was also written on her face. They both felt that flirty energy in the wine aisle. They had only been cut off because they had somewhere to be—which happened to be the same place. 

Her name was in his phone with a pink heart emoji. 

And now they were just a wedding short of being step-siblings. 

"Nice to meet you, Harry." 

Forcing herself to pull her hand back, (Y/N) made the self-serving choice of looking towards her uncle. Whatever had conspired between her and Harry had gone unnoticed if the beaming grin on Mick's face was anything to go by. 

"I can help with dinner," (Y/N) offered, hoping for a reprieve in the form of the quiet kitchen, "You said it was in the oven, right?" 

"Oh yes, dinner," Uncle Mick laughed, "The lasagna is in the oven. Thank you, (Y/N)." 

That was all the permission she needed before scurrying off to the kitchen. She moved on robotic limbs to the appliance, but stopped short of pulling open the door.

Instead, she leaned over the stove, hands braced on the ledge. 

What kind of tragic comedy had she found herself in?

—————

"Goodnight, kiddo. Thanks for coming tonight." 

(Y/N) hugged her uncle that much tighter. She could hear the sincerity in his voice; this was about more than a dinner she had managed to make it down for. 

"Goodnight, Uncle Mick." 

Their embrace lasted a beat longer before she unraveled herself from his hold. Over his shoulder, she could see Harry having a moment with his mother. Seeing them side by side like that, the resemblance was so clear. Even down to the set of their teeth and the cheekbones. 

Especially when they smiled at each other like that. 

"Still on for breakfast in the morning?" Mick asked, fatherly affection painting his features. 

"If you can pick me up, yes," she conditioned, batting her lashes and beaming up at him. 

"As long as you're up and ready to go, I can make that happen." 

She pulled him into another hug to show her thanks. "I'll see you in the morning. Love you." 

"Love you too, kiddo. Get to bed so you don't keep me waiting." 

Heading towards the door, (Y/N) threw a glance over her shoulder, intending to wave to her uncle one more time, only to catch Harry following in her footsteps. Her lips thinned. She knew he was on his way out too, but she had hoped she was moving faster than him. Now It would be weird to rush out ahead of him and let the door slam in his face. Especially if this was now her soon-to-be stepbrother. 

Harry's pleading eyes met hers. Begging her to wait just a second for him. She supposed, even if she wanted to avoid it, they needed to talk about this at some point. 

Now, they both were waving goodbye to their respective parents. Final declarations of how nice it was to meet one another were shared, following them out onto the chilly stoop. Silence fell over them as the door sealed behind them. 

Just the two of them now. (Y/N) and her almost-stepbrother. (Y/N) and the guy she had just short of fantasized going on a date with only hours earlier. 

His steps slowed to match hers. 

"So," he started. 

She didn't offer any words. Was now when they acknowledged the obvious flirting they shared in the liquor store? Or were they going to save that for the wedding? 

"Kind of fucked up, huh?" 

At that, (Y/N) couldn't help but to laugh. The sound was surprisingly loud, breaking into the quiet neighborhood. 

"That's exactly what I was thinking," she murmured, coming to a stop next to her car. Daring to look up at him, she caught him already looking down at her. His eyes were just as pretty now as when she saw him for the first time that night. Before she knew her adoptive dad was marrying his mom. "Did you... You didn't know before, right?" 

A pinch appeared between his brows. "No. Had no idea. The last time I was down here was two years ago, when I helped my mum move."

"That's crazy. The last time I was here was two years ago, too." 

A rueful smile touching his lips. They were both having the same thought. 

If only...

"They seem really happy together, though," (Y/N) posited, knowing they were going to have to accept the terms of their newfound relationship. 

"Really happy," Harry agreed, glancing back at her childhood home, "'S been a long time since I've seen my mum that happy." 

"Same for my uncle." (Y/N) nodded her head, her smile thin when Harry turned back towards her. Whatever she had started knitting for him this evening, now needed to be severed. "It was really nice to meet you, Harry. Thanks for everything tonight." 

Faint dimpled dented his cheeks. "It was nice to meet you, (Y/N). Get back to your hotel safe." 

"You, too," she reciprocated, pulling open her car door. Harry took a step back, his hands in his pockets as his eyes followed her. "Oh," she gasped, "You should probably change my name in your phone, by the way. I think the emoji might throw some people off." 

At that, she was granted Harry's bursting laughter as she climbed into her car. She probably felt a little bit too much pride over that. 

Pulling out of her uncle's driveway and out into the street, she couldn't help but peek into her rearview. Though a part of her wanted to think Harry had his eyes following her, the other part of her was quick to send a reminder that that wasn't something she should want. Not anymore. 

While there wasn't anything serious that had conjured between them, the potential having been torn from their hands was enough to feel a little bit of loss. They hadn't even had time to mess it all up themselves. 

Now they'd never know. 

 —————

Tucked away in her cubicle, (Y/N) smiled at her phone. 

The group chat labeled Wedding Party complete with every floral emoji the keyboard had to offer was going crazy. But, she still went to the single message from Harry first. 

     I love my sister so much but I think I'm going to have to block her if she sends one more Pinterest board to my mum. This whole thing was supposed to be small and now we're looking at a gelato bar for the reception.

     There wasn't even supposed to be a reception.

She covered her mouth as if that would make the grin growing over it obsolete. She knew well what he was going through. For the first two months of this engagement, all talks of the wedding had been flippant, that the ceremony would happen when it happened. In a matter of weeks, everything had changed. There was now a joint bachelor and bachelorette party to plan. 

Harry had been her lifeline through this roller coaster. They didn't talk about the night in the wine aisle, never breaching the previous terms of their acquaintance. Instead, they had grown to be friends. Good friends. The kind of friends that had separate conversations outside of group chats. The kind that would send anything that reminded them of one another. They had inside jokes now. 

They were friends. Soon to be step siblings. 

(Though, even if it wasn't something she acknowledged, (Y/N) knew good and well there was a phantom following her any time she interacted with Harry. That phantom never let her forget that she was still attracted to him. Even if no action could be taken, she wasn't going to be able to forget him as the man in the cloud cardigan with the pretty eyes and freckled nose).

     I'm supposed to be figuring out a bachelor party and I think I would rather die than think about what my Uncle Mick would want to do on his last night as a "single man"

     I might just change my number actually and hope no one notices 

     Hahahahahaha

     And now we both get to be there for that last "single" night. Thrilling stuff! 

     You'd still let me have your number though, right?

She didn't want to admit how her cheeks warmed reading his texts. Maybe because it was something she wanted to see—though she'd never admit to as much out loud—, but she swore there was still that flirty undertone to the way he spoke to her. Like he wasn't quite over things like they were supposed to be. 

     Of course

     I'm scared you'll go crazy without it and I still need you for the actual wedding 

It was a small indulgence, telling him she needed him. While she wouldn't act like there was something astronomical that had been built between them, it was hard to ignore the fact that the more she spoke with him, it didn't exactly tamp down her feelings for him. 

     I know you do.

(Y/N) blinked at her phone screen. She could hear the words in his voice, that drawling accented voice. The way his eyes would have connected with hers had they been speaking in person. How there would have been a quirk in his lips, a reminder that this was very much a silly, lighthearted joke even if a part of her short-circuited. 

Ignoring everything else, (Y/N) typed out a lame, noncommittal response ("You wish lol") before locking her phone and placing it face down on her desk. The email in her inbox suddenly sounded a lot more appealing than they had only a few minutes prior. Even making the copies she had been putting off for the whole morning had suddenly been pushed up the to-do list. 

Anything to keep herself busy—too busy to think about Harry. 

She would be seeing him again soon because of the bachelor/rette parties that were coming up within the next month, and she needed to have her head on straight. It was embarrassing to be so distracted, caught up in someone she'd only met in person once. A total of maybe six hours had been spent together that entire weekend she had visited home, counting both the initial dinner and the brunch before the both of them were to jet back to their respective homes. Each of those hours had even been buffered by the attendance of their parents. 

And yet, here she was. 

Forcing herself out of her seat, (Y/N) made her way to the copy room. Everything was going to be okay, she reminded herself, fiddling with the blunt edge of her master copies in her hands. She was going to see Harry, be so clearly and readily reminded that she was going to be his stepsister for all intents and purposes, and every affection she held for him was going to dry up. All she needed was to meet him once more, and wipe away the liquor store meeting from her head. 

Everything was going to be fine. Perfectly fine. 

As long as she somehow figured out how to mash the idea of a fancy dinner for Anne's bachelorette party with a fishing trip for Uncle Mick's bachelor counterpart. 

—————

(Y/N) scrolled to yet another page of search results. 

If she saw any more party bus and strip club ideas for a joint bachelor/bachelorette party, she was going to scream. There was no way she was going to down shots and dance on a pole around her uncle and her soon to be stepfamily. 

There wasn't a single chance that she was the first to ever plan something like this for an older couple. Someone—one of the billions in the world—would have undoubtedly come up with an idea far before her. And yet, she was on the third page of google results, and she knew if she drifted to the fourth, she was done for. 

There had to be at least something nearby that could check the boxes for both sides of the honored couple. 

She was this close to booking reservations at a restaurant that had a claw machine for diners to pick out their "lobster" (looking at photos, it appeared to just be a handful of plastic lobster figurines based off of a cartoon). If Gemma hadn't already taken on so much with her mother, including planning out many elements of the wedding itself, (Y/N) would have just short of begged her to come up with something. But, that wasn't fair. She wanted to be a good soon-to-be sister and take something off of Gemma's plate, especially since she had apparently recently welcomed her first baby. 

Shuttering her eyes, (Y/N) rubbed her temples. She needed to focus and make a decision. The reserved weekend was only a handful of weeks away, and she needed to get these plans finalized before it was too late. 

At her side, her phone buzzed, the vibration scaring (Y/N) out of her skin for a brief second. 

Blindly reaching, she brought her phone up, effectively blocking her laptop screen. A text message had come through. From Harry. 

     Are you busy?

She sighed, lips thinning as she debated answering. While she was busy, the idea of being distracted sounded much more fun than looking at another aquarium dining space—complete with a tab that would take her months to work off. 

    Not really why??

With that, a call came through. Also from Harry. 

(YN) clutched her phone. She'd only talked to him on the phone once, and it was brief. He'd hadn't been able to reach his mother and needed quick directions to the brunch spot he met them that first weekend. She had barely talked to him, passing along the phone to his mother in the same breath as her greeting. 

Tapping her thumb on the green circle, (Y/N) accepted the call before she could think better of herself. It was just Harry, she drilled into her head. Just Harry—a friend and nothing more. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey, you," was his greeting, his accented voice flowing through the speakers in a way that almost felt offensive. How dare he answer he as if he was just as happy to hear her voice as she was for him? 

"What's going on?" she forced out, hoping it sounded a lot more casual than she felt. 

Harry let out a sigh, the sound of rustling fabric audible in the background. "Nothing jus' trying to figure out m'plans for the stag weekend. Figured I'd call you since y'have all the answers." 

His tone had been teasing, lilting through a smile. He knew she had been struggling to figure out what to plan for everyone, but she hadn't revealed just how much of a problem she was having. The last time they had even really discussed the topic was a week ago, when she felt as if she had all the time in the world to thread something together. 

Today, after looking at the calendar and the countdown to the agreed upon dates, his poking didn't feel so funny. 

"Um, yeah," she muttered, running a stressed hand down her face, "I'm figuring out everything right now, and finalizing stuff. I'll let you know for sure when I can." 

A brief pause settled between them. 

"(Y/N)," Harry started, his voice decidedly gentle compared to the teasing a moment before. "Y'alright?" 

"Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry," she murmured, stumbling over her thoughts. "It's just been a little bit of a long week, so I'm really tired." 

She meant to finish on a breathy laugh, lighthearted even if she didn't really feel that way.  Instead, it came off as just a little bit sad. 

"Bad week? Or jus' a lot?"

"A lot," (Y/N) sighed, "But it's alright. I think once I get everything figured out for the party, I'll be fine." 

"If y'want, I can take over some things. I can make calls or set up reservations. Whatever y'need." 

A small quirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "That would  be really nice, Harry," she started, resigning herself to telling the truth, "but, I actually haven't picked out anywhere or decided anything yet. It's a lot harder to plan something that has the vibe of a fishing trip, but served high-class food. The closest I've found is this place with a 'lobster' claw machine." 

(Y/N) didn't have to see him to know he blanched at the idea, his scoff evidence enough that he was on the same page as her. 

 "Yeah , that might not be what mum's looking for," Harry laughed. (Y/N) wished she could see his dimples. "I can take a look around too, though. It might help to have some more eyes."

Her lips thinned at the idea. She was supposed to be taking this on by herself; Gemma and Harry had enough on their plate, it didn't feel fair to pawn any more tasks off. 

"I don't know," she mumbled, "You and your sister are already don't so much, I don't want to—" 

"(Y/N), 's alright. 'S just a couple of google searches, 's not a big deal," Harry interrupted her, his voice gentle, "'M getting a little worried about you." 

He ended with a breath of laughter, though (Y/N) found it hard to buy that he wasn't sharing a little bit of honesty with her. 

With her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) blinked at her laptop screen once more. If she had to figure out how to reword "fancy fishing restaurant" one more time, she might explode. If anything, it would be nice to take a small break from attempting to make these decisions. 

"That would be nice, Harry. Thank you."

She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again, "See? I told you, y'needed me." 

(Y/N) didn't even attempt to argue.

—————

Through bleary eyes, (Y/N) caught the time on her phone. One in the morning. The phone call with Harry had just hit over the four hour mark. 

"But, yeah," Harry laughed, cutting himself off with a small yawn, "I don't plan on going to any of my school reunions. I don't think it'd go over very well." 

(Y/N) let out a peal of laughter, the noise quiet and tired. "I think you should; it would be very funny, at the least." 

"Maybe," he hummed, "If I don't get arrested." 

"For something that happened ten years ago? I don't know," she countered, singing the syllables, "We'll only know for sure if you go." 

"Then y'have to come with me. If I get in any trouble, 'm making it your problem." 

It could be the late hour making her delirious, or the fact that she wasn't able to convincingly lie to herself at the moment, but it felt like something to have Harry casually make those future plans with her. 

"I'll be there," she cemented through a sleepy smile. 

A pause settled between them, the sound of rustling sheets audible through the phone.

"I should let y'go, (Y/N). 'S later than I thought," he drawled, "I didn't mean to keep you up." 

"No, it's okay," she insisted, "This was nice. Thank you for helping me—and hanging out with me tonight." 

I missed you is what she wanted to say. Just barely was she able to choke the thought back. 

"You've got me, you know that," he promised, "But, all of the confirmations and everything should go to you. If you need anything though, you can send them to me, I don't mind." 

"Thanks, H," she hummed, letting her eyes fall to a close. "I'll talk to you soon?" 

"Of course—I'll probably start bothering you first thing in the morning." He spoke as if his first text message wasn't going to be the highlight of her day. 

"That'll be nice," she let slip, incredibly warm with the tufts of her bedding fluffed around her, "And I'll actually see you in a few weeks." 

"That'll be really nice," Harry said, something running under his tone she was too tired to examine, "'M excited, (Y/N)." 

"Me too," she yawned. 

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," Harry drawled, tongue lingering over her name, "Sleep well" 

"Goodnight, Harry," she smiled.

There was a brief moment. A pause where neither of them hung up.

(Y/N)'s breath caught, suddenly so awake compared to just a moment ago. 

Then the call cut. 

Four hours on the phone with him, leaving with sore, smiling cheeks and drooping, sleepy eyes. 

In three weeks, she would see him again for the first time in months. Everything was going to be fine—and normal. 

—————

"To mum and Mick. Congratulations." 

Flutes of champagne were raised over a white-tableclothed table, sparkling and golden. Smiling faces were shared over the setting, blushing cheeks on Anne's face with an eye-crinkling smile on Uncle Mick's. The clinking of the glasses sounded in the quiet, reserved space before being brought to smiling lips. 

A wonderful way to end dinner. 

(Y/N) couldn't help but to meet Harry's eyes across the flute. He was already looking at her, bouncing his brows when he caught her attention.

She looked away first, cheeks warming. 

"Thank you, Gem," Anne smiled, voice sing-songing over the syllables. "I love you so much, you know." 

Gemma only smiled at her mother. That was definitely the third glass of champagne beginning to talk. "I love you too, mum. Just as much." 

Anne's eyes watered, glossing the already glazed look over her irises. "Both of you," she said, looking to her children, "The best, you are. I couldn't be luckier." 

Gemma shared a sly smile with her husband at her side as Harry opened his mouth to take on his mother's emotional reaction. Only for Anne to cut him off, turning her attention to (Y/N).

"And, you," she started, folding her hands over her heart, "I couldn't be more excited to have you in my family. Thank you for everything you've done for Mick." 

Though (Y/N) thought it was a little bit funny, the slur to Anne's words and the overly affectionate way she spoke to her, but she couldn't help but to match a bit of that emotion. It was nice to hear something so loving, and know that she would be there for her Uncle Mick when (Y/N) wasn't able to. 

"Of course," she smiled, hoping no one noticed the slight sniffle of her nose, "I can't wait to be a part of your family either. I know my Uncle Mick is very lucky to have you." 

It was then that Anne broke, letting out a stream of sobs. (Y/N) watched as her Uncle had his own soft smile on his face, amused at his bride's antics though there was a matching sheen to his eyes. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, looking at the guests in attendance. 

"Tonight was very special, you guys. Thank you," he smiled, complete joy in his eyes, "I think it's time we head home." 

Gemma was quick to agree, a gentle hand on her mother's arm. "Us too," she smiled, glancing at her husband, "It's time we get back and let the sitter go home." 

When neither Harry nor (Y/N) disagreed, no one hesitated to start getting up and readying for the journey home. Jackets were donned, and eyes were wiped. While Anne was busy with her children,  her hushed voice emotional, Uncle Mick came right to (Y/N).

"Thanks, kiddo. Really," he muttered, "This was perfect—and I doubt it was easy." He cast his gaze through the bow windows encompassing this private room.

Outside, the shining lake rippled under the moonlight, dock rocking in the waves. The elegance Anne had requested came in the crown molding and clean decor, while Mick's requests came through in the dock outside and the fresh seafood from the kitchen. How (Y/N) had overlooked this place through her searches, she wasn't sure, but she wasn't sure she would have been able to do this without Harry. 

"Harry helped a lot," (Y/N) specified, beaming up at Mick, "But I'm happy you liked it. I'm happy you're happy."

Seeing the way he looked over his shoulder at his bride-to-be, (Y/N)'s heart almost burst. How truly lucky were they. The perfect movie they made. 

"Love you, kiddo," Uncle Mick murmured, wrapping her in a hug, "You going back to the hotel?" 

"Probably," she nodded, "We're still looking for your suit tomorrow, right?" 

"Yeah," her uncle sighed, not entirely excited at the idea of the outfit, but willing to do what it took to make his soon-to-be wife happy. "I'll pick you up, okay?" 

"Thank you," she smiled, giving him one more hug. "Goodnight." 

"Goodnight," he smiled, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before departing. 

Anne was passed from her daughter to her almost-husband, happily falling into his arms with loose limbs. She gave a noncommittal wave to the group following after her.

Gemma was the next to depart, hugging (Y/N) and sharing her thanks for planning this part of the evening. Harry didn't attempt to take any of the credit, only watching quietly until it was his turn to bid goodnight to his sister and brother-in-law. 

Out in the parking lot, the pavement bathed in moonlight, (Y/N) rubbed at her thinly covered arms. 

Just she and Harry were left. 

"Tonight turned out really well," Harry commented, a dimpled smile on his face, "Good job, (Y/N)." 

She shook her head. "I just confirmed everything, and you know that. Thank you for getting this all taken care of." 

Harry shrugged, shoulders lifting though he kept his eyes trained on her. It had been like this for most of the night; his undivided attention had clung to her like a second skin. He came back to her every time. The end of every conversation was punctuated by his look to her face, gauging her reaction. It was thrilling, though the thrill was tempered from the fact that she knew she wasn't supposed to keen under his attention like that.

Looking out towards the water that had set the scene for the evening, (Y/N) could feel his eyes on her. She felt a bit crazy, her skin prickling under his attention. There was a large part of her that dreaded the fact that she had to head back to her hotel alone now. They'd barely had time to speak to one another as a group, let alone on their own. She doubted they would have a chance like this again for the rest of the weekend. 

Harry was her family now. Maybe some extra time with him was all she needed to officially understand that. Overwrite those previous flirty memories of him with something much more appropriate. 

That was why she wanted to keep the night going. That was why she opened her mouth, question on the tip of her tongue. 

"Did you..." (Y/N) started, carefully picking her words as she kept her gaze out on the lake, "Are you tired?" 

She could cringe at the sound of her voice tripping over her question.  

"Not really," he drawled, smile audible in his voice, "Are you?" 

"Not really," she repeated, daring to match his gaze. Her skin warmed when she caught him with his eyes already engaged on her. With the moon above draining the world of color around them, his eyes somehow still acted as a beacon, the green rippling like the lake. "Do you want to get a drink, or something?" 

His dimples were cast in shadow, denting his cheeks as his grin grew. "I think I saw a bar not too far from here when I booked this, if y'don't mind walking." 

While her dress didn't exactly agree with the weather, the chilly breeze kicking up the hem and casting goosebumps over her skin, there wasn't a single part of her that could find a reason to decline. 

"Lead the way." 

—————

"After you." 

Harry opened the door with a flourish, bending at the waist as he gestured (Y/N) through the doorway. It was entirely too dramatic, especially for the kind of bar he had taken her to. A peal of laughter left her lips.

The inside of the bar was much warmer than the chilly air outside, enough so that even with the thin jacket on her arms, (Y/N) started to sweat. After Harry entered behind her, the door closed, sealing behind them. 

The nautical bar was a drastic change to the restaurant they had just left. 

Fishing nets were strewn over the ceiling, filled with weather torn life-preservers, various starfish, oysters and clam shells. Sparkling pearls were dotted throughout. The walls were decorated with different portraits depicting sea-faring legends and the glorious ships they sailed. Creaky floorboards sounded under their feet, the lumber matching that that boarded up the walls and made the majority of the round tables of the bar. The bartop itself was a candy apple-red, sleek and only a little scuffed. The mirrored back wall of the bar was lined with liquor, reflected int the low light of the establishment, only a single bartender fixing drinks for people (Y/N) had no doubt were a mix of regulars, and people like she and Harry who were just looking for a drink after touring through the area. 

When a gentle hand landed on her back, ushering her forward, (Y/N) stiffened. Blinking behind her, she knew the touch came from Harry, though it still had her throat running dry just to see that it was, in fact, him looking out for her.

He cast his eyes around them as they slowly approached the bar, the whining floorboards louder than his voice, "'S a little different than the pictures online." 

"Yeah?" she smiled, following his eyes to the portrait of a fishing captain with a sopping beard and hardened eyes. Truthfully, (Y/N) worried that if she looked away and then glanced back at the painting, a skeleton or ghoul would be in his place. "I can't believe that." 

Harry let out a breathy laugh at her joke. Stepping to the bar, he didn't build upon their teasing, instead, pulling one of the vinyl stools out for (Y/N) to sit. Taking the proffered seat, she pretended to study the liquor bottles behind the bar instead of just how close Harry was now that he took the spot at her side. Especially when he settled in with his legs spreading, his knee touching hers. 

 "You kno—" 

"What can I get you two?" 

The gruff voice of the bartender cut Harry off unceremoniously, his tired eyes flicking between the two of them impatiently. 

"(Y/N)?" Harry murmured, letting her go first as if she was going to be able to concentrate when she heard the syllables of her name wrapped in his voice. 

"Um," she stumbled, looking at the bottles behind the barkeep as if it were a menu, "A—uh—a cosmo? Or just a vodka cranberry? Something like that." 

The bartender bounced his brows as he grunted. He must not have liked (Y/N)'s answer as much as she didn't. Harry's order went much smoother, even if he did have to wipe the sly smile off of his lips as he asked for a whiskey, neat. 

As soon as the man who could have easily been the subject of one of the paintings left them be as he started their drinks, (Y/N) hung her head in her hands. "Oh my god," she quietly groaned. 

Harry nudged her with his shoulder, ducking his head to conspire with her though she didn't really feel like he was on her side given the way he had to bite back his amusement. "It wasn't that bad." 

"Yes it was," she laughed, "I thought he was going to ID me and think it was a fake." 

He shrugged. "We've got time." 

(Y/N) let out a laugh, feeling a little less embarrassed as she turned to look at him, cheek cushioned by her hand. It was quite the feeling, to know that they really did have time. At least for tonight (after their parents joint bachelor/rette parties, of course). Then, she would come to her senses, and live the rest of her life with Harry as her legal sibling. 

"Right. We've got time." 

—————

"Harryyy."

"Yes?" 

"Harryyy."

"Yes, (Y/N)?"

"Harryyy—" 

Putting his hand out, Harry stopped her from spinning on her stool. (Y/N)'s singsong voice stopped right in its tracks when she saw him, warmth creeping up her neck, though she doubted it was from the alcohol. Even if there was a lot of that in her system. 

"What, (Y/N)?" he laughed, craning his neck as he crowded around her. 

"Do you think they'd let me do karaoke, even if there isn't a stage?" 

Another bright laugh left Harry's lips at her words. "I think there might be a little more missing than jus' the stage, but 'm sure we can work something out. You've got to ask first, though." 

Giving a slight incline of his head, (Y/N) followed to see him gesturing to the bartender. The one person in the whole room she was sure would immediately shoot down her idea. As if it wasn't a fun one. 

"H, you know he's going to say no." 

"I don't know," Harry crooned, "Y'should probably ask. He might like karaoke, too." 

A light could have pinged over her head. He really could like karaoke, he's just shy about it. It would only take a little bit of convincing, maybe even a song or two, and he'd be so on board. Should she start with a ballad or a—

(Y/N) felt someone crowd around her, static running down her back. Harry looked over her head, lips thinning. 

"Hey stranger." 

Blanching at the greeting, (Y/N) whipped her head around. Behind her was a vaguely familiar face. She couldn't place the name, but she knew this man. Even if he was a bit harder to recognize out of uniform.

And acting way more familiar than a waiter should. 

"Hi," (Y/N) answered with an owlish blink. 

The man paused, as if waiting for something more to come out of her mouth. Nothing did. 

He let out an awkward laugh, thrown off by her lack of response. "Wedding things over for the night?" 

Behind her, she could hear Harry shifting over his seat. Just that much closer to her, his knee brushing against hers. 

"For tonight, yeah," he answered for her, "Jus' getting a couple of drinks before going back home." 

The man hummed, nodding his head. He didn't pay much attention to Harry, only looking at him for as long as it took him to finish his words before he was stitching his eyes back to (Y/N). 

"You should've told me you were looking to go out tonight. I could have shown you the good spots." 

It was a bit childish the way she pouted at him. "This place is good," she countered. 

She wasn't going to let him speak bad about this place. Harry picked it and she was having fun. 

"Well yeah, but," he started, "There's a couple of other places that look a little more your speed."

"I'm having fun here," she insisted, reaching blindly back towards Harry, "He picked it. I like it." 

It was odd the way he looked at her. The way he followed her hand as she found his leg. He looked through her, searching for something more. 

"Aren't you..." he started voice trailing off before Harry stepped in. 

"I think we're alright for now, man," Harry said, "I think we're gonna head home soon, anyway." 

Whatever this man had been looking for before had been pushed to the wayside. Something a little too fast flash through his eyes for her to decipher, though the brown of his irises lacked some of the flirty warmth from before.

He decidedly ignored Harry, looking towards (Y/N) as if Harry hadn't spoken at all. 

"Let me buy you a drink at least," he charmed, dipping his head until he was level with her. "I can't lie, I was hoping that dinner wasn't the only time I'd see you." 

(Y/N) blinked. She opened her mouth to say something disjointed and a little too drunk back, only for Harry to pipe up.

"I think we're alright; the tip we left earlier should have been enough. Thanks." 

His hand landed gently upon her own where it sat on the cuff of his knee, warming her skin.

That searching look was back on the man's face, gaze locked on their hands. 

"I thought... Isn't she your sister?" the man blanched, scoffing. 

"Actually," (Y/N) hiccuped, "I'm his stepsister. But, not even that, if you want to get specific. His mom is marrying my uncle, so it's, like, legally even less than that." 

(Y/N)'s bubbling didn't make much sense, but it didn't appear that this man was listening anyway. He only looked towards Harry, as if he was the one that was attempting to argue these details. A frown tipped her lips.  

"We're alright, mate." 

The man paused for a moment. Shaking his head, he muttered under his breath, "Weird," before stalking away. 

Her brows knitted together as she watched him leave to haunt a different corner of the bar, a group of people she hadn't noticed before welcoming him in with conspiratorial glances and whispered voices. 

"Sorry," Harry muttered behind her, causing her to whirl on the stool to face him, "I should have asked if you..." 

She canted her head at him. She was too drunk for things to not be spelled out. "What?" 

He let out a short laugh, dropping his gaze from hers as he knuckled at his nose. "I... Did y'want to talk to him? I didn't mean to get involved if y'were..." 

"No," (Y/N) shook her head, "He was being annoying. Was he from the restaurant?" 

There was a line holding Harry's shoulders that seemingly was cut loose then, dropping the lines of his body into something much more relaxed. "He was, yeah. Can't remember his name, though." 

"Me neither!" she blurted, reaching towards him with her hands landing on his shoulders, "I thought I was just really drunk, so that's nice to—"

As if on command, she suddenly stumbled from her stool, falling into him with a gasp. Harry didn't hesitate before his hands landed on her waist, steadying her with a tight grip. Her heart bounced around her chest as she came down from. Looking up at him through the fan of her lashes, she saw him already watching her, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

"Y'alright?" he asked, a pinch between his brows. 

"Yeah, sorry," she answered, simply, melting into him despite being more than capable of settling into her own spot once more. He was too comfortable, too warm, too everything she had been thinking about for months now to move on. And she was too tipsy to know better. "Thanks for catching me." 

With her cheek pressed against his chest, Harry's hold on her shifted until he had his arm around her middle. The other waved down the bartender. 

"I think 's time we get y'home, love." 

"No," she whined, "We just got here." 

The laugh he let out rumbled underneath her cheek, warming her further from the sound alone. "Maybe a few hours ago. You've got a big day tomorrow anyway, y'need to sleep." 

"Maybe," she sighed, eyes fluttering to a close as Harry handled their tab. "Are you coming tomorrow? For the suits?" 

"No," he murmured distractedly, "'M going home tomorrow, remember?"

"But you just got here," she argued, suddenly offended at the idea of airports and planes and flight times. What was the point of any of that if that meant Harry would be miles and miles away from her again? 

"I know," he smiled, standing from his spot with a guiding hand on her back, "But we'll see each other again soon, okay? I'll make sure of it." 

She didn't doubt his promise. If Harry wanted to see her, he would make it happen. 

(Y/N) could only stare at him with stars in her eyes, warmth simmering under her skin. 

They had time, she reminded herself. Even if just tonight. 

—————

"C'mon, (Y/N). Gotta help me, love." 

"Okay." 

"Love, you've gotta stand up on your own for a second, 'kay? Jus' until I get the door open, then I can help y'again." 

"Okay." 

"(Y/N)." 

"Hm?" 

Harry sighed, the curve of his lips audible. Looping his arm tightly around her waist, he continued attempting to get the keycard to her hotel room to work, all while she clung to him, almost sliding down his body now that he wasn't devoting all of his attention to steadying her. 

She was too tired. How could he expect her to stand up on her own when she was so tired she almost fell asleep on the way here? It was unrealistic. Especially when he was offering his body as her crutch; he was warm like a blanket, firm yet forgiving at the same time. The perfect kind of pillow. 

A faint technological beep came from behind her. Harry fiddled around for a moment before he was clutching her again. 

"C'mon," he murmured through an amused smile, guiding her inside though she didn't bother to turn around and face forward with her steps. Instead, she let Harry do the heavy lifting, getting her through the threshold and letting the lumbering door click to a close behind them. 

Her hotel room was small and rudimentally furnished, stiff carpet under their feet. When she had checked in, she hadn't thought much of the space. Now, through bleary eyes with Harry holding her so carefully, it was the prettiest, coziest, most comforting place she'd ever come to spend the night in. 

Her clothing was still strewn out of her opened suitcase, the lamp on the side of her bed turned on with the television streaming the default channel for the hotel. A normal, sober part of herself would have felt a bit embarrassed at the sight of her panties hanging out of her luggage, knowing Harry would no doubt spot it. But, she wasn't normal or sober. She was drunk and clinging to Harry like a lifeline. 

"There we go," Harry mumbled, depositing her on the edge of her bed. He stood before her, running a hand through his hair. "Y'gonna be alright?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, looking up at him with what she was sure were hearts in her eyes, "Are you?" 

Harry laughed. His smile, dimples and all, was more intoxicating than any mixed drink could hope to be. "I think I'll be alright, (Y/N)." 

She canted her head as she looked up at him, taking in the rumpled collar of his white shirt, now sporting a smudge of her pink lipstick. "Do you really have to leave tomorrow?" 

His lips thinned as he gazed down at her. "Yeah. I do." 

Her lips puffed into a pout, wandering hands reaching for the hem of his shirt. "When am I going to see you again, then?"

"I don't know," he answered, lips into a lopsided smile, "Before the wedding, hopefully?" 

"Just hopefully?" she whined, using her grip on his shirt to tug him down until he was forced to flop onto the mattress at her side. "I thought we'd see each other more when we found out... everything." 

Harry only let out a heavy sigh. His eyes glanced around her face, searching through the planes of her features. "I know." 

(Y/N) laid back on her bed, suddenly hit with a weight that she had avoided thinking about for the last few hours. She could feel Harry's eyes following her.

"I don't want to be mean," she said, speaking quietly in the empty of the hotel room, "But it kind of sucks, right?" 

A beat passed. 

"What do y'mean?" His voice was strained. She didn't need to look at him to know that he knew what she meant. 

"Like," she started, matching his gaze, "You know. Everything. I'm happy for them, but... We get along so well, you know? At least I think we do." 

A small quirk tugged at his lips. A sad curl. "We do, don't we?" 

"I think we would have had a lot of fun," she smiled, biting back a yawn. 

"Aren't we already?" he asked, falling back to lay beside her. 

This close, (Y/N) was able to see the details that had made her heart race all those months ago. The shatters of green in his irises. The sprinkle of freckles along his nose. The scar on his chin. The uneven stubble shadowing his cheeks. 

"Yeah," she exhaled, tone dreamy. She reached for him, her fingers grazing over the warmth of his cheek. "I just—I thought, when we met...I thought it would be different for us." 

Harry didn't say anything. His eyes fluttered closed as she touched his face, fingertips grazing over the lines of his features. Touching his cupid's bow had her heart hammering in her chest.

"Didn't you?" 

When Harry blinked his eyes open, he matched her gaze unabashedly. "I did." 

Reaching up to grab her hand, he laced their fingers together and pulled the bundled limbs to his chest. "But, we're alright like this, don't y'think?" he murmured, that sad smile back on his face, "At least we never had a chance to mess anything up." 

She knew he was attempting to spin her thoughts into something hopeful. That they would be happy and partners in crime together like this for the rest of their lives. And it would be okay. There would never be a need or even a thought for anything more. 

But, all that stood out to her was that they never had a chance. 

(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth, a well of emotion crashing behind her ribs. "We never had a chance." 

"Oh, (Y/N)," he crooned, collecting her in his arms until her cheek was cushioned in his neck and his arms were a comforting cage around her waist. 

She melted into him, reveling in the warmth of his hold and the blocks of muscle making up his body. There was so much softness to him, with the way he touched her, the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her. So much she could have gotten to know, she thought. There were always going to be parts of him that she wouldn't know.

"I miss you already," she whispered. 

"You know I've got you, love. 'M always here." 

"Not in the way I want." 

It was bravery in the form of alcohol and the lack of eyes on her face that made it so easy for the words to slip out. Though it didn't feel so right when his hands on her back paused. 

It felt even worse when he started disentangling himself from her hold, the phantom of his arms lingering around him. He slowed when he caught her eye, his own a bit sad to match the own on his lips. 

"I know," he whispered, "Me too, (Y/N). But, we're going to be alright. Like this, we're going to be okay." 

She didn't stop him when he left her hotel room, the door clicking behind him. He will be on a flight tomorrow, leaving her once more.

Hopefully, he had said, that they would see one another before the wedding. Though, in the silence of the suite, (Y/N) didn't have to be sober to know she had been a mistake, speaking so blatantly. The hope he had shared that they would see each other again before the wedding was no doubt diminished. 

Blinking up at the texture of the ceiling, she sighed. 

What the fuck had she done?

—————

"My uncle said he can pick me up from the airport, so that should be fine." 

"Good, good," Gemma mumbled, "And you're staying with me and my mum or did you want your own space for the week?" 

"I mean," (Y/N) mused, "I was going to leave it up to you guys. I can get a room somewhere if you want family time, or whatever you want." 

"Well, you are family now, (Y/N). You're more than welcome to stay with us. I know my mum would enjoy getting to spend time with you." 

(Y/N) wanted so badly to glow at the thought of being welcomed into a family like the Styles'. She had wished for years that she would somehow find out she had a long-lost sister or any sibling at all to spend her days with. 

Instead, she was grateful this was only a phone call, so Gemma didn't catch the way her lips tightened at the idea of being considered family to someone she had attempted to kiss the night of her uncle's bachelor dinner. 

And been promptly rejected by, of course. 

But, she was over all of that, she reminded herself. Just like Harry was. 

"I think that would be a lot of fun, Gemma. Thank you," she accepted in a way she hoped was gracious. 

"Mum's going to be so excited to hear that," Gemma bubbled, "That works out perfect, too, since I think Harry and Michel are going to stay with your uncle for the week. Keep up the whole tradition thing, everyone all separate." 

(Y/N)'s lips pinched that much more at the mention of his name. She could still feel the way the emptiness of her hotel room settled over her when he had left. Nothing was more sobering than that, she found.

"Yeah," (Y/N) chirped, "It's cute."

Gemma let out a bubbly laugh, "Exactly. Okay, so I'll get with mum and figure out all of the little things we still need to do before the wedding, and I'll let you know as soon as I know!"

"So exciting! I can't wait." There was a part that really was very excited and was looking forward to seeing her Uncle Mick get married, eager for him to be happy again after experiencing so much grief the years prior. There was another large part of her that could wait a little longer; wait a few more months, or even a year before she saw Harry again. At least long enough for her to have forgotten that night at the bar, and have a new boyfriend. 

Gemma chattered a bit more, thinking out loud as she ticked things off her list. (Y/N) was fine being her sounding board, nodding and humming where needed before sharing a quick goodbye. 

Locking her phone, (Y/N) was left in the quiet of her apartment. It was a little too close to the silence at the hotel room, the experience at the forefront of her mind. 

Pursing her lips, she gripped the edge of her countertop. She was going to see Harry again, in just a couple of weeks. 

Should she text him? Attempt to clear the air before even seeing him? 

No, it was bad enough that she had scared him off, she couldn't be the one to reach out first. Months after, even. If he wanted to talk to her, he would have by now—even if only to clear the air. 

It was times like this that she wished she had siblings. If she had a brother or a sister, she wouldn't be walking into this whole thing by herself. Despite her Uncle being there, his wedding wasn't exactly the setting to let him know that she'd attempted to go out with his new wife's son—the one that would be her stepbrother for all intents and purposes.

Legally, though, she corrected herself. Stepcousins.

(Y/N) sighed. That still didn't sound very good, especially not when she usually just considered her uncle her dad, no matter what she called him. 

Her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. (Y/N) flinched back at the noise before reaching for the device. 

On the screen she had a single notification. A text message from a friend. 

Mitchell Row-Lund

     How was the phone call? Do you have to room with that guy? 

Staring at the message thread, an idea came to mind. It wasn't a good one. (Y/N) could even field an argument about how it is actually a stupid idea. But it was an idea, nonetheless.

Gemma did say she still had a plus one available. And, it wasn't like Mitch had anything going on, she knew that for a fact.

Plus, he knew some of what was going on with Harry, sans many details, but enough to understand why it was a very big deal that she couldn't go into this alone. Uncle Mick would enjoy seeing him too. 

Ignoring the text, (Y/N) called Mitch's contact instead. It only took a couple of rings before he picked up. 

"Hello?" 

"Mitch, are you busy in, like, three weeks?" 

"(Y/N)..." 

—————

"Are you sure you girls don't need help with anything?" 

Gemma whipped around from the stove where she was spreading the different layers to the lasagna. She gave her mother a glare. 

"Mum," she reprimanded, "We're fine. You're supposed to be relaxing." 

"I know, I know," she sighed, "But, I don't mind helping. I can—" 

"No," Gemma cut her off, abandoning her post at the stove to escort her mother back to the glass of chardonnay waiting for her in the living room. "Your only job is to answer the door when the boys get here, and watch your show." 

Anne hmphed, casting a playful roll of her eyes only where (Y/N) could see. A huff of laughter left her lips as she watched the mother-daughter duo argue before Anne relented to actually being taken care of for the night. It was sweet, the kind of banter and familiarity they had between one another. It reminded (Y/N) of the relationship she had with her aunt. It was nice to know that her Uncle was marrying into a family like this. 

"When will she learn?" Gemma joked when she reentered the kitchen, casting a very familiar roll of her eyes towards (Y/N). "It's like pulling teeth to get her to relax." 

"She's too sweet for her own good," (Y/N) said, continuing the chopping of the vegetables for the side salad. 

"Her biggest flaw," Gemma sighed, shaking her head. 

"I can hear you!" 

Anne's shout from the living room drew laughter from both of them. 

"Then what did I say?" Gemma shot back, giving (Y/N) a look like watch this.

A pause. 

"I don't know, but I know you're whispering!" 

Gemma lifted her brows like see. It was enough to pull another peal of laughter from her. It was already shaping up to be quite the night. The last one before the wedding, before Mitch would be in town and the first time she would be forced to speak in a confined room with Harry since arriving. 

She had been lucky enough to avoid being alone with him, the activities and rooms having been too busy to catch more than a single glance of him before rushing through. It was the nice part about Anne and Uncle Mick wanting to uphold a bit of tradition, the bridal party and groomsmen being separated as much as possible during this last week. 

(As far as (Y/N) remembered, she thought it was only the night before the ceremony where this distance mattered. She wasn't going to correct anyone, though).

But, tonight had come and her sanctuary was on a timer.

In Anne's cozy dining room, there was nowhere to hide from Harry. Especially not when this evening was considered a family dinner. 

(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth as she kept her eyes on her hands, attempting to focus on the strokes of the knife and not anything else. Especially not the time. 

That did seem to work against her, though, when the knock on the door took her by surprise. She hadn't had time to brace herself, school herself into someone who didn't care about whatever happened tonight. 

Her throat bobbed when she heard the sound of Anne's front door opening, a familiar set of voices sounding from the stoop. 

Gemma practically beamed as she slid the pan of lasagna into the oven before rushing out to meet her husband, who also had her daughter on his hip. (Y/N) lingered back, listening to the sounds of the stitched together family. 

This time tomorrow, her uncle would be married and she would have two new siblings. One of them being the man she could hear right now cooing to his niece. 

Wiping down the knife and placing it off to the side, (YN) ran a stressed hand through her hair. Seeing her uncle would make her feel better, she thought. She'd start there. 

"Hey kid," her uncle murmured when he caught sight of her. His creased eyes lit up as she stepped into his hug. "How are you?" 

"I'm good," she smiled, making sure her eyes stayed stitched on his face with not even a peek over his shoulder, "How are you, though? Tomorrow's the day." 

(Y/N) could see light practically dancing through his eyes when he cast his own gaze behind himself, where the cooing of a baby and her fawning audience could be heard. "Excited. Really excited." 

"Good, good," (Y/N) smiled, suddenly feeling a bit choked up. She wondered if this was how he was going to feel when she had her own wedding (fingers crossed, anyway. She needed to find a partner first before considering a wedding.)

"The lasagna has a few more minutes in the oven, but (Y/N)'s salad is almost done. Harry, you can set the table." 

Perking up at the sound of her name, (Y/N) regretted it as soon as she heard Harry's only a moment later. Gemma was playing the role of gracious hostess, though it didn't appear she could turn down the opportunity of bossing her little brother around. 

Though, it didn't seem like he minded much at all. Harry only gave a beaming grin to his niece before poking at her stomach and making his way towards the dining room.

For the first time since walking through the door, their eyes met. 

(Y/N) felt her throat run dry. The last time she saw those shatters of green, the intensity of his gaze turned in her direction, he had been telling her that there wasn't any room for what she wanted with him. That they were going to be okay—whatever that was supposed to mean. 

All after she had so clumsily fallen all over him, even attempting to kiss him.

Harry only cracked a small, polite smile. Not a single dimple or crease on his freckled nose appeared. 

"You made a salad tonight?" Uncle Mick asked her, ripping her back to reality, "And you still have all your fingers?"

Turning to face him, (Y/N) plastered a smile on her face, playing into his small joke. "Barely. Gemma had to sew my pinky back on, but I think it should be better by tomorrow." 

Her uncle let out a boisterous laugh at her jest, none the wiser to whatever had passed between her and Harry only a breath before. 

This was going to be a long dinner.

—————

"Dinner was wonderful, ladies. Thank you." 

Uncle Mick handed out praises to the women at the table, though Anne was quick to shrug it off. 

"It was all the two girls," she insisted, "I was quarantined to wine-and-couch duties." 

(Y/N) didn't have to peek under the table to know that her uncle had squeezed his bride's hand. All she needed to see was the affection that painted his gaze as he looked at her. "Well deserved," he muttered to her before looking to where (Y/N) and Gemma were sitting side-by-side, "Thank you two, then. Everything has been amazing." 

Gemma gave a similar reaction to her mother, shrugging it off with a shy smile on her face. "Of course. It's the least we could do for the happy couple, right?" 

She gave a look to (Y/N) the shadow of dimples in her cheeks. Too much like Harry, (Y/N) thought. She still made sure to nod and smile along. 

"I'm happy everyone liked it," (Y/N) interjected, hoping she sounded more present than she really felt. Especially when she could feel eyes on her—eyes she had been pointedly avoiding all throughout the meal. 

Anne stood up, beginning to collect dishes from the mats around the table. "I can start cleaning up, and—" 

"Mum, no. I thought Gemma told you that you're not supposed to be doing any hard work tonight." 

Harry's clear voice had (Y/N) blinking, her spine stiffening as she kept her eyes on her soon-to-be aunt. 

She scoffed at his words. "Doing the dishes in my own home is far from hard work, Harry. You kids—" 

"Anne," Uncle Mick piped up, a gentle hand landing on her arm, "Let them take care of this. There's still some time before I think we call it a night, and there's wine still in the bottle." 

(Y/N) watched as Anne's eyes softened, features flourishing into a gentle smile. 

"Oh alright," she relented, "Just for tonight. And, maybe tomorrow." 

That was (Y/N)'s cue to begin collecting the dishes herself. Gemma had done the hard work by putting together the main part of the meal, and deserved a moment with her child and husband. Besides, the quiet of the kitchen and task of taking care of the dishes was what she needed after being on edge during dinner. 

"I've got it, then," she offered, beaming a smile to her Uncle, "You guys go relax for a little while." 

Arms laden with china and silverware, (Y/N) took to the kitchen while the rest of the family moved onto the other room. A heavy breath left her lips. 

She fixed her eyes to the faucet as the sink filled with warm water, soap bubbles forming on the surface. 

Truthfully, she knew there wasn't any reason to be so nervous, so stiff, all night. It wasn't like Harry was going to speak about that night out in the open—if he wanted his family to know, he'd had months to expose the facts before now. But, he hadn't. 

It was a bit pathetic to admit given the fact they had never even so much as kissed, but seeing him felt a lot like running into an ex. Embarrassing, seeing as he had seen her more vulnerable than she felt comfortable showing. Nerve-wracking, as she wasn't sure what kind of reaction she was going to get from him. And a bit heartbreaking; it was hard to see him knowing there was such a definitive line in the sand. 

As if there wasn't always one there, (Y/N) reminded herself. The second they made it to her uncle's house that night, there was always goin to be a barrier between them. 

Flicking off the faucet, she got to work cleaning off the dishes. From the living room, she could hear quiet coos from a sleepy baby, and slight laughter amongst a family sharing memories. 

That was enough to have the line holding her shoulders taut to give. A family. Everything her uncle deserved. 

"Want help?" 

(Y/N) practically jumped out of her skin at the sound of the deep, accented voice suddenly joining her in the space.

 Whipping her head around, she saw Harry lingering in the threshold of the entrance to the kitchen. He had a short smile on his lips, the ghost of dimples in his cheeks. 

Not a real smile. Something polite to be offered to someone he didn't really care to be talking to. 

"No, I'm alright,"(Y/N) answered, just as tight. "Thanks, though." 

"Are y'sure?" he pressed, taking a cautious step inside the barrier of the tiles, "I could dry while y'wash. It'll cut the time in half, or something like that." 

She let out a huff of laughter at his attempt to lighten the mood. She was sure she wasn't the only one feeling a touch of the tension that had gathered. 

She figured she couldn't really continue to avoid him forever. 

"If you really want to," she relented, letting a genuine, though small, smile curl her lips. 

Harry took her words as the invitation needed, crossing the room to join her at the sink. The damp dishes had begun to accumulate on the towel she had laid out at her side. He moved with familiarity through his childhood home, finding another dish towel before pushing up the sleeves of his warm brown sweater. 

Just like the first time she had met him, (Y/N) couldn't help but trace her eyes over the cross tattooed on his hand. Seeing the sleeves of his shirt pushed up, she got a view of what she remembered wondering hid between that cloud-cardigan those months ago. 

A bare-chested mermaid. A nightmarish beetle. A collection of tiny sketches around an anchor at his wrist. 

"So," he started, wiping off the first dish in the pile, "I've barely gotten a chance to talk to y'since we've got here. How have y'been?"

She nodded absently, swiftly turning her gaze to the soapy basin. "I've been alright. Just busy getting the final details figured out with your mom and sister. How about you?" 

"Same," he murmured, "'S all gone by so fast. I can't believe 's already tomorrow. I feel like we were jus' meeting for the first time." 

He meant for the comment to be something lighthearted. They could bond over the passage of time, right? It was easy to nod her head and laugh, tell him that yes, everything had gone by so fast. But she was excited, nonetheless. That his mother was a wonderful person and she couldn't wait to welcome her into their small family. 

Instead, (Y/N) was only able to manage a small smile. 

"Yeah. Crazy." 

Crazy that it really had only been months since she met Harry while perusing wine for her uncle, thinking he was just a handsome stranger. Someone she could see herself going on a date with. 

Now, he was going to be as good as her stepbrother. The revelation left a sour taste in her mouth. 

A beat passed. 

"(Y/N)," Harry started, one of his rings clinking against the plate in his hand, "If y'want to talk about—"

She shook her head. She didn't need to revisit that night. Especially not right now, while washing his mother's dishes in her sink. 

"I don't," she insisted, "Sorry if I'm being weird. I just... I was worried I had scared you off or something, since we haven't talked. But, I'm fine, really." 

"You didn't. Scare me off, I mean," Harry answered, the words coming out in a rush as if a reflex. The pile of damp dishes were forgotten for the moment as he turned his attention to her. "I jus' wanted sure if y'wanted to talk to me after... everything."

"Don't worry about it," she answered, sidestepping just how much she wanted to hear anything from him in the time that had passed since the night at the bar. That she wanted to know if he still even tolerated her. "Everything got a little complicated, so it's probably best we didn't—don't. You know?" 

Harry's expression seemed to solidify at her words. Unmoving, unchanging, though something seemed to leave from his eyes. 

"Yeah," he agreed, a single nod of his head. He waved the cloth in her direction, nonchalant. "We've got a while to figure everything out as long as tomorrow goes well, right?" 

"Right," (Y/N) laughed, a little less rigid. While it wasn't the outcome she may have wanted (that was one where he came in on a flying steed, hearts in his eyes, and unwavering conviction in his feelings for her. Or at least trying it out with her), it was the best outcome she could have predicted. 

They finished the dishes in silence.

—————

(Y/N) clapped, tears in her eyes as she watched her uncle plant a kiss on his blushing bride. The white of her gauzy dress made Anne's skin glow that much brighter, sweet pink and a warm bronze. 

They were now man and wife as the officiant announced, allowing them on their way. 

Falling back into her role as dutiful bridesmaid, she followed after Gemma as the procession to the reception began. Glancing at Mitch, she caught him biting back a smile. She knew he would have something to say about her sobbing two seconds into the ceremony. 

Getting out of the chilly garden and into the reception venue was a needed transition. (Y/N) hadn't even realized her fingers were turning to icicles until the heat from the hall wrapped around her. 

It was quiet in the space. Only a select few of the venue staff milling about as they made the finishing touches on the reception space, and a newly knitted family were present. Much like herself, Gemma had tiny tears in her eyes as she reached for her daughter from her husband's hip. Harry had his mother wrapped up in a long hug.

It was her uncle that brought her attention away from the embrace. He murmured something to her, the words a bit garbled through his thick throat before he had her in his arms. 

(Y/N) didn't hesitate before she was reciprocating the hold. She tucked herself against his chest, feeling just as safe as the day he had told her that she was going to be taken care of now that he was there. The memory only made her snuggle that much closer to him. 

"Congratulations, dad," she whispered, choking up hearing the title she only rarely used. She knew it had the same effect on him when he clutched her tighter, a shuddering breath wracking his chest. 

"Thanks for being here, kiddo. Love you." 

"Love you, too." 

All too soon, her uncle was whisked away to take photos with his bride, the photographer eager to capture the moments with that blissful glow on their faces. Family shots had been taken prior to the ceremony, when everyone's makeup and hair were in perfect condition, leaving (Y/N) a moment alone for the first time that day. 

It wasn't until she was putting on her false lashes that she had heard Harry had brought a date. She knew that there was no reason to have any kind of reaction to that revelation, especially since she had also invited Mitch. And yet, there was still that sour, churning feeling in her stomach.

While it wasn't a thought she nurtured or had the guts to admit, there had been a lingering hope in her that maybe, with everything twisted up and complicated, that there could be something worked out. That Harry was so unhappy with the distance as she was. 

But, he had brought a date. Someone serious enough to invite to a family wedding, though not serious enough to mention to her when they were washing the dishes the night before. 

That was fine. He could do whatever he wanted, just as (Y/N) was doing. 

And neither of them were going to be heartbroken. Least of all (Y/N).

—————

"Are you sure that's his date?" 

(Y/N) only grumbled through her spoonful of gelato. That counted as the third time Mitch had questioned Harry's choice of plus one. And the third time (Y/N) thought she made it abundantly clear that she wasn't interested in speaking on the details of the coupling. It was bad enough explaining to everyone that Mitch was just a friend instead of a boyfriend, he didn't also have to rub it in that Harry had brought a real date. 

"(Y/N), don't get mad at me," Mitch warned, casting his eyes over her head towards the dance floor, "I'm just asking. Because he's barely talked to her all night." 

"Well, that's rude of him, then," (Y/N) cemented, taking another bite of her birthday cake gelato. This dessert had been Gemma's idea—about the same cost as a cake, but many more people could eat from the bar and there wouldn't be a handful of leftover slices that the family would be forced to take home. 

"Will you still think that if I tell you it's been because he's too busy looking at you?" 

She glared at Mitch through furrowed brows. "Right." 

"I'm serious," he hedged, bouncing his brows before tipping his head towards her, urging her to look at her back. "If you turn around right now, you'll see." 

"Just because he's looking at me, doesn't mean anything. He's my brother now, Mitch." 

Reaching for his drink, Mitch didn't look very believing in the story she was spinning. "I would be a little nervous if I had a brother look at me the way he is right now."

 "What does that mean?" 

He knew he had her then, a crooked smile on his lips. "Look for yourself." 

Giving in, (Y/N) pretending to stretch in her spot. She pasted an easy smile on her face as she nonchalantly turned to look over her shoulder. 

There, on the dance floor, with his niece on his hip, Harry's cheeks flushed. He quickly looked away, having been caught by (Y/N) as he gazed at her. His date was fluttering around, speaking to Gemma and her husband with an easy smile on her face. She was familiar with the family—more familiar than (Y/N) would think a new girlfriend would be. 

But, that wasn't any of her business. 

Turning back to Mitch, she attempted to look as if nothing she saw had even sparked a train of thought in her mind. 

"That doesn't mean anything." 

"Right," he drawled, sly smile on his face. "And, he's not coming over here, right now." 

"What?" (Y/N) bubbled, suddenly at attention. Her cup of gelato created in her tightened grip. Whipping her head around, she stopped in her tracks, expression dropping. No one was walking over to their table—let alone Harry. 

A burst of laughter came from her date. 

"That wasn't nice," she said, fighting back her own laughter. Truthfully, while it was pathetic how easy it was to get her to react, she knew if the tables were turned, she wouldn't be able to contain her giggles at Mitch's desperation. 

He shrugged. "It was funny, though." He took a long sip of his drink, ice clinking together. "If you're so jumpy, I don't know why you haven't gone to talk to him at all." 

"Mitch," (Y/N) started, finally abandoning the remnants of her gelato, "It's just not the right time. You already know everything, so." 

"So what? He obviously wants to at least talk to you. Just put him out of his misery." 

(Y/N) shook her head. "Even if things weren't complicated, he brought a date, Mitch. I don't think he's really dying for my company." 

"So?" he repeated, raising his brows, "You brought a date, too. And it's me." 

She could only roll her lips between her teeth. She wasn't going to examine the point he was making. 

"I'm going to get a drink." 

—————

(Y/N) felt entirely too accomplished when Gemma's daughter burst into another round of laughter at the shapes she was throwing on the dance floor. It was easy to make her laugh now that she knew what made the little girl giggle, but it still felt like an all star achievement every time a bubbling peal left her heart-shaped lips. 

"Auntie (Y/N) is just so silly, isn't she?" Gemma babbled to her daughter, equally delighted to hear her having so much fun. The later the night went, the more and more of a miracle it was that she hadn't grown fussy and in need of a bedtime. 

Just as she was about to make another uncoordinated movement, a gentle hand landed on (Y/N)'s shoulder. She saw the gleaming diamond ring adorning the fourth finger first, already knowing who it belonged to. 

"Could I cut in, girls? Sorry to ruin the fun," Anne asked, her beaded gown trailing behind her as she beamed at her granddaughter, "It's my turn to dance with Aunt (Y/N)." She paused, glancing over. "If that's alright, anyway." 

"Yes, of course, of course," (Y/N) bubbled off, "We'll just finish our dance battle later." 

"I'd watch out if I were you," Gemma teased, "After a snack, this one is going to run you out of town, I'm afraid." 

"I'd like to see her try," (Y/N) played along, narrowing her eyes despite the smile attempting to take over her mouth. 

Gemma walked away with a laugh, taking her daughter back to her husband. A happy little family, they were. 

"I can't believe you're still at it," Anne laughed, swaying along to the music with (Y/N), "I can barely handle standing in these shoes, and you've been dancing like nothing." 

(Y/N) lifted the hem of her dress, showing off her socked feet. "I took my heels off hours ago. I got through one dance before I had to make a choice." 

Anne let out a boisterous laugh. The champagne bubbles from the number of toasts recited throughout the night had seemingly had their intended effect. From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) could see both her Uncle Mick and Harry looking in their direction, affectionate smiles on their faces. 

"I'm just happy you're having a good time," Anne crooned, blissful smile stuck to her features, "I was getting worried." 

A furrow pinched (Y/N)'s brows. "You were? Why?" 

A heavy sigh left her lips. "I told Mick I wouldn't say anything," she started, casting her eyes to her new husband, "But, I've just been worried about you and H." 

(Y/N)'s movements lagged in time to the music. "Me and Harry?" 

"Don't tell him I told you," she rushed out, "But, he said there was something? I can't remember exactly what he said, but he just seemed really upset when I told him you were bringing a date, and when I asked what was wrong he just said it was complicated, or something like that. I could tell something was going on last night, but I didn't want to push." 

In so many words, Anne was laying out her mother's intuition. Despite neither she nor Harry divulging any secrets, Anne had been able to pick up on the words between the lines. 

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, her grip on the skirt of her dress tightening. 

Anne chewed on her bottom lip before speaking again. "I know it's not any of my business, you kids are adults and can do whatever you want—or don't want. But, I think you should talk to him. If it's complicated in the way I think, I want you to know that... It's okay. Complicated things happen all the time, but that doesn't mean it has to be impossible." 

Champagne was a hell of a drug. 

"Right," (Y/N) answered, a tight smile on her face. "Thank you, Anne. I think I need some air, I'll be right back." 

Before much else could be said, Anne's brother popped in to steal her away for a dance. The heavy subject she had just dropped on (Y/N) was forgotten, instead excited to chat with someone new for the time being. 

That left (Y/N) to swiftly creep out of the venue and into the garden that had previously been fashioned into an elegant aisle for the ceremony.

The chilly air she had been eager to get out of earlier now felt like a balm on her skin. In so many words, Anne had basically given permission for (Y/N) to do whatever she wanted when it came to Harry. Despite the marriage that had just connected them as family. 

It was both freeing and heavy as she stood in the garden. 

Freeing to know that even from someone both removed but so close to the situation, she didn't think (Y/N) was catastrophically insane or unnervingly gross for even considering Harry as someone. 

Heavy to know that they hadn't been quite as undercover as she hoped. Not everyone would agree with Anne's ruling, and (Y/N) dreaded the idea of finding out just who could be on the opposing side. Including Harry and the date he brought tonight.

The music from inside seeped through the open windows. As if reading the mood from even out here, the DJ had switched to a slow song. The singing violins and melodic voice of the singer floated around (Y/N), making it that much easier to be a bit melodramatic as she trailed her finger of a wilting cornflower, the hue matching the color of her dress. 

"There you are." 

(Y/N) didn't have to turn to know who had joined her in the garden. The voice alone was enough to have her spine straightening, goosebumps sparking over her skin. 

She offered a quiet smile to Harry as she dropped her hand from the flower. "Here I am," she said, "Is everything okay?" 

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. A wilting periwinkle flower went lopsided in his breast pocket. 

"Yeah, jus' saw y'with mum and then y'disappeared. I wanted to make sure y'were alright." 

"I'm fine," she offered, "It got a little stuffy in there, that's all." 

"Well," he started, moving towards her until his toes were just on the edge between the patio and the garden, "Y'missed our dates sneaking off together." 

(Y/N) blanched at the information. "Are you joking? I'm so sorry, oh my god. I'll find Mitch right now, I can't be—" 

"No, no," Harry laughed, "'S fine. Sarah's been asking me about him since he got here anyway. I know it was only a matter of time." 

"Oh," she sounded, settling at the information Harry was sharing, "So Sarah's not...?" 

Harry shook his head. "She's a friend I've had for years. Mum loves her, so she was coming whether or not she came as m'plus one. This way she got to pick where she sat." 

(Y/N) laughed. Half from the practicality of this woman's choices, as well as a wave of relief that ran over her. So he hadn't brought a date tonight. Only a friend that was seemingly much more interested in (Y/N)'s date. 

"Mitch is just a friend, too," (Y/N) clarified, pretending as if she didn't hear Anne's voice in the back of her head as she offered the information. 

"I was hoping you'd say that. Otherwise, I was going to have to follow them and beat him up or something." 

"No need," (Y/N) sighed, "He'd be sad if you did that, anyway. He thinks you're cool." 

Harry's eyes brightened. "Really?" 

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," (Y/N) warned, biting back a smile, "He only said that when I told him you put together the music list for the DJ. He thinks you have good taste." 

"Well, he's not wr—" 

"I had to break it to him that you think frosé is better than actual rosé. I think he's still coming to terms with it." 

Mock offense took over Harry's features. "How dare you? I told y'that in confidence." 

(Y/N) shrugged, a playful smile painted on her lips. "I had to save him the trouble of finding out on his own. He never would have recovered." 

Harry shook his head. "'S not even that bad, I don't get it." 

"Coming from someone who thinks frosé is the best wine offering, that makes sense." 

He playfully nudged his shoulder against hers, shaking his head. A beat passed between them, the muffled voices from inside spilling out into the courtyard. 

"I saw y'talking to mum," Harry started, switching off the subject with the tease falling out of his voice, "Looked a little intense." 

She hoped he didn't catch the way her spine stiffened. "It wasn't anything serious," she lied, "Just got a little emotional with everything." 

When Harry didn't immediately answer, (Y/N) chanced a look in his direction. He already had his eyes trained on her, shatters of green examining her features with raspberry lips rolled between his teeth.

"What?" 

"She didn't—" Harry started, cutting himself off before reorienting himself, "It wasn't about anything complicated?" 

(Y/N) blinked. Had their conversation really been that loud?

"Harry, I didn't tell her anything," (Y/N) insisted, "She said she just had a feeling, but I didn't—I don't know how she knew—"

"I told her," Harry piped up, dropping his eyes to the grass at their feet, "Kind of. She could tell something's been going on, and she asked once. She thought I didn't like y'or something. I jus' told her it was complicated, but that must have been enough." 

He let out a huff of laughter though she was sure neither of them were feeling particularly humorous at the moment. 

"'M sorry if she made y'feel uncomfortable or anything. She jus' wants me to be happy, and—"

"She told me it was okay." 

Harry went silent at her admission. Raspberry lips rolled between his teeth. 

(Y/N) waited, a breeze playing with her dress. 

"She said it was okay? That... whatever she thought was happening between me and you, was okay?" 

(Y/N) nodded. 

She watched as the very corners of his lips turned upwards. 

"Your uncle said the same thing." 

A furrow had (Y/N)'s brows pinching above her pointed gaze. "When?" 

Harry's lips stretched into a full smile. "Jus' now." 

It took a moment to process the fact that Harry was telling her this information with a grin on his face. Nothing polite and short. A real, dimple-baring, nose scrunching smile. 

He was happy. He was happy to hear this news. 

That whatever had started those months ago was okay. Whatever that meant for them. 

"This is good," (Y/N) whispered, voice melding with the music from inside the venue, "Right?" 

There was a part of her that wanted to close the distance between them. Crush the grass under her socked feet and cup his jaw between her palms. To slot her lips between his and kiss him. To do the one thing she had been holding back from since that first dinner at her uncle's house. 

But, she needed to wait. She wasn't going to have another moment like that in the hotel room. If Harry wanted her, he was going to have to say it, otherwise she was staying rig—

Taking the leap for her, Harry closed the distance in one long stride. He gently took the line of her jaw in his hands, tipping her head up until the tips of their noses were touching. The length of his lashes were only a breath away from tangling with hers. 

"Really good," he breathed, waiting for her.

That was all she needed to hear before she was stretching to the tips of her toes, pressing her lips to his. 

Harry steadied her with his hands on either side of her face, guiding her into this first kiss. He took her bottom lip between his two, his kiss lingering and sweet. The only urgency came from the fact that they both knew just how long they had waited for this moment, though there was no reason to rush through it. 

She could taste the pistachio gelato he had earlier in the night, alongside the sweet wine served by the bar. With each tip and tilt of her head, she felt the tip of his nose grazing hers, the scruff of his chin against her own, the soft give of his mouth. Reaching up, she bundled her fingers into the lapels of his jacket, keeping the lines of their bodies close together. 

(Y/N) no longer felt the chill in the air, consumed by the feeling of Harry's kiss. This was worth waiting for. Worth the complications, and the uncertainty. Worth bringing Mitch to a family wedding just for him to disappear with someone else's date. (Something she was going to expect a thank you over, if he and Sarah worked out past a hookup). 

Harry drew away first, though only far enough to rest his forehead against hers. Blinking her eyes open, she found him already looking at her, half-lidded with blown pupils.

"'M sorry," he murmured, the fullest points of his lips grazing her own, "About the last time. I should have—I didn't want to leave, I jus'—" 

"It's okay," (Y/N) whispered, puckering her lips to give him a delicate kiss, "I get it. It hurt at the time, but I understand. Everything was just too much then." 

A slight quirk angled his lips. "Complicated, right?" 

(Y/N) couldn't contain the small huff of laughter that fanned from her lungs. "Exactly." 

Tipping his chin, Harry sealed his lips to hers in a lingering kiss. His hands on her jaw slid down, following the line of her arms until he reached her hands. 

"We should go back inside." 

Lacing her fingers between his, (Y/N) made no move to head back inside the venue. 

"Do we?" 

A light danced through his eyes. Casting a glance at the party going on behind them, Harry tightened his hold on her hands. 

"I think we could wait a little longer. Don't you?" 

All (Y/N) could do was attempt to kiss him through her smile. 

—————

thank u sm for reading! sorry for any mistakes and if you have any fun ideas or requests of your own pleaseee send them in!

[tgirltorment]

The trick about devils is that the high-ranking ones are often less concerned with inspiring sin and perversion within mortals as they are satisfying their own. You believed that by identifying the right patron and giving them what they want, you could make a deal with no clever loophole or catch. Make an offer, follow through, and come back unchanged and unharmed. Easy. And you knew just the devil to chose: a Devil Lord of Lust, one of the most self-serving of sins. Pride is too unstable, sloth might never hold up their end, gluttony is insatiable, but a Devil Lord of Lust? That you could handle.

You summoned them one evening to your apartment, offering your demands with clarity. "Beauty and power," was all you asked for. "In return, I offer to enter your service for six months." He chuckled lightly, eyeing you up and down. "One year," he countered. "And I promise you'll not be hurt. Not in a way you don't enjoy, at least." You shook hands, and the deal was struck. You were given a day to get everything in order, pay any outstanding bills, notify your family that you'd be away, and went to sleep. The next time you awoke, it was in a cage.

You noticed right away that your clothes were gone. Every so often a demon would pass by, leering at you through the bars. You also noticed that your were very, very, very horny. At first, you tried to cover yourself up, hide from the observing demons. But a heat began to build in your chest. You ached to touch yourself, to cum. You tried to resist. "Not in while they watch," you tried to think, but it was fuzzy. Strained. You noticed that the demons were naked too. Were they always naked? Looking them only made you hornier, so you tried to look away, but the image of their cocks was buried in your mind. Without thinking, you began to touch yourself, and by the time you noticed, it felt so good that you didn't care.

Against your will, small whimpers escaped your mouth. It felt so fucking good. The noises you made riled up the demons, spurring them to get off too. Cum shot through your bars, covering you, making you feel so warm. Why couldn't you cum? You were so close, so fucking close, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get over the edge. You began to beg. "Please," you whined. "Please let me cum."

Eventually, your hands became too tired to continue and fell to your sides. You lay at the floor of your cage, covered in the cum of a dozen demons, unable to orgasm but so desperate. You didn't care anymore. You needed it. So you pushed yourself against the bars and let them fuck you, their cocks taking turns inside you, filling you with more and more cum. Cocks appeared in front of you too, right before your face, and, without thinking, you began to suck them. God, it was so hard to think with their cocks so deep inside you. But you still couldn't cum.

Eventually, they all had their fill and left you, broken and desperate and unsatisfied, squirming on the floor of your cage in a pool of cum, which you brainlessly began to lap up. Soon enough, a familiar form appeared and opened your cage. You crawled out and immediately offered your throat to the Devil Lord, too dazed to even beg. "My sweet pet," he purred, grabbing your horns. Did you always have horns? "You've been so good. I believe you deserve to cum now." You whimpered in excitement, you tail (tail?) flicking behind you. He led you to a throne where he sat down, stroking his cock. "Have a seat," he said. So you rode him, pushing his cock as deep into you as it would go, screaming as you came again and again, unable to stop bouncing. Your back arched and your wings flared as wave after wave of euphoria ran through you, the sweet release you'd been desperate for for so long.

One year would not be enough. Not nearly.

[darlingdekarios]

abandon all hope.

RATING: explicit. 18+ only. — LENGTH: 9,131— Raphael x f![warlock]tav [reader]

CONTENT: being a patron is being a sugar daddy/mommy you can't change my mind, set during Act II canon, small amounts of alcohol consumption, toxic behavior/ expressions of possession/ownership, "fluff", SMUT [unprotected p in v], KINK(S) [praise kink, orgasm control, hair pulling, biting, scratching/clawing, blood, breath play, dacryphilia, just a little degredation, size], there's a lot of poetry in here I did my best, Haarlep cameo, the least Raphael could've done for killing an Orthon for him is fuck us ffs, have fun thinking Raphael is bad at sex I'm built different, this got out so out of hand

you had become his absolute favorite - his most precious client and prized treasure. it's become increasingly difficult not to admit that you're truly his forever...and he's ready to hear it.

"In a world of horrors where shadows loom, A tiny creature navigates through certain doom. A little mouse, determination in its eye, Hoping this will not be its last heard lullaby."

It would be a lie to say that very voice didn't send the most delightful of shivers down your spine each time it announced his presence to you - you hung on each syllable like he was speaking a new language you were desperate to understand. Though your back was turned to him as the corners of your lips twitched upward you could feel in your soul - the one that no longer belonged to you - that he knew.

Though you may have been doing your best to feign disinterest and even often annoyance at his dramatics, it was no secret that you found him amusing. Fortunately, he happened to feel rather the same, a creeping mirth building in his chest at this familiar performance you were putting on.

"Just when I was beginning to miss your theatrics."

It was only then he realized just how badly he'd yearned to hear your voice again in the time since it had last swam into his ears. Curiously - but perhaps not at all - he felt his mouth go temporarily dry as his next rehearsed verse fell from his mind momentarily. When his silence lingered you filled it gracefully as you knelt before a bucket of water, scrubbing your arms free of the blood that covered them as you worked off the most uncomfortable parts of your armor.

His stumble did not last forever - his practiced words would not go to waste.

"With the battle fought and her patron's foe slain, She has etched upon her weary soul so very much strain. With a gentleness most sincere, the Patron offers her rest. Her wearied body, soon at peace even in her mind, No longer bound by battles' fierce behest, Their worries, for a moment, left entirely behind.

For the strongest heroes, too, do need a moment's grace, To find their strength renewed in the tenderest embrace."

Though his continued lack of transparency was frustrating, particularly after the stretch of days you'd had at his bidding, you noticed the practice lilt in his words, the methodic delivery of his latest poem.

"Have you been practicing poetry for me again, my Lord?" your tone was filled to the brim with the very amusement you felt, amusement that was growing by the moment at the slight waver in his voice, the subtlest indication that now was one of few times his trademark control had faltered. "I must tell you, it really is quite sweet. I've never inspired such before."

Your pleasantries and a title you so rarely chose for him stirred a feeling oh-so rare and delicious in him, a tingle up his spine that spread a wicked grin across his face. Exhausted, and uncaring of the company at the moment you continued your work on seeking your own comfort, continuing to peel armor away from your figure and toss it to the side.

Maybe you knew the lack of attention would agonize him - maybe that was only just more amusement for you. Annoyingly, he was attempting to bury the desires as he always did around you, finding now that the feelings stirring were beginning to gnaw their way out from the inside.

"You flatter me with honorifics yet ignore my presence."

His words had the slightest bit of edge to them and yet the tone in which they were delivered could be described as little more than a purr. It was a tone you'd discovered was reserved to fall on your ears alone - he never spoke to you this way in company, though you didn't doubt others existed that were fortunate enough to hear it. It was delicious - made more-so by the sharpness to them, the gentle bite that warned his limits were being tested.

The fact you only heard it when you were alone meant you seldom travelled with companions for too long, discarding them when your interests were no longer the central focus. It was lonely, but few wanted to be at your side when they discovered the source of your power, and the moments like this reaffirmed your decision each and every time.

"In a land of shadows shrouded with a curse most horrific, Lies a weary hero, hoping her devil might be more specific. For if she doesn't soon rest, Her weary body will be for the shadows to ingest."

There was no denying the radiance and allure in his laughter - it rang out so beautifully it didn't fit in a place like this, it almost wasn't fair for such a joyous sound to ring out in such a cursed land. Now, you couldn't help yourself - you turned to face him with a light smile pulling at your lips, exhaustion written on your face accentuated by the blood of those you'd slain in his name.

It pulled at his heart, something that seldom occurred - you were truly always a sight like this, in his eyes at least.

"Your skills increase tenfold each time we meet," he complimented, the smile settling on his face matched by the pull of the wrinkles beside his eyes. "You were successful in your latest task."

It was a statement - not a question, the wordless affirmation of his continued faith in your abilities. Still, you could've given him a snarky response - the blood covering your body and armor wasn't enough of a clue for him? In truth, though, you'd began to enjoy the moments where he complimented you - even more the rare moment he actually thanked you.

"As always," your coy tone was the final act to try to hide the giddiness you felt now, as well as the fatigue that was slowly overtaking your body. When was the last time you had eaten? When he left would you simply remove the rest of your armor and do your best to build a fire and lay beside it, or would you simply make do with the cold ground beneath you now?

He could sense it; he knew exactly what was on your mind. In truth, your thoughts were mirrored in his - this was no place for someone of your caliber to rest, especially not when you'd been so very good for him already. He'd heard about your camp, of course, but seeing it for himself - well, it really was quite awful.

A snap of his fingers and once again you were in the House of Hope, the unmistakeable extravagant decor a much better sight than the lands you'd been traveling. Though it was a bathroom where you appeared it was already enough to almost bring tears to your eyes - it smelled delightful, a bath was already drawn with bubbles and filling the room with the warmest steam. Unsurprising was the small table beside it filled with fruits, meats, cheeses and wine that made a fresh rumble sound in your stomach.

"It is so very fortunate your generous patron is willing to reward a valiant effort, would you not agree?"

You huffed a breath through your nose as a smile spread further across your fae, heat rising in cheeks as you returned your gaze to his. "And who said devils are selfish?"

His beautiful laughter filled your ears again, the warmth radiating from the fireplace and the bath nothing compared to that which engulfed you just hearing the sound so entirely for you. His movements were smooth as he made his way to the small table, pouring a glass of wine with ease while his eyes stayed on you the entire time.

"You have undertaken quite the ordeal on my behalf, you deserve a proper display of my abundant appreciation," there was the unmistakable purr of sultriness beneath his tone, his strides predatory as he made his way back to you, eyes running up and down your entire frame again before settling on your eyes. "And a bath, though I do so worship the vision of my dark hero covered in the blood of my enemies."

"You show your appreciation by providing me my power."

"And yet," the pause lingered heavily - if you weren't so keen on enjoying everything he had to offer you there would probably be a quip about holding for drama, but now you only looked up at him with wide doe eyes - eager and expectant and deliciously obedient. "I find myself curiously wanting to provide you with more."

The look that was blooming in his eyes was a peculiar one - one of a fondness. He slipped behind you gracefully, one of his hands reaching to grasp your hip and turn you to face an ornate mirror before his arm fully encircled your waist, drawing you back toward his chest. His hand slipped up your body, avoiding any part that would have been too inappropriate to touch without express permission, to grasp your chin, holding your face gently but firmly as he angled it to look in the ornate mirror before you.

"The longer you have my power reflected in your eyes, the more beautiful you become. Wouldn't you agree? You are radiant."

Now it was impossible to pass off the heat that had risen in you as nothing more than the heat from the bath - with his hand just beneath your chin on your neck and his claws digging ever-so-slightly into your skin, the heat had begin to pool at your core. You were still trying to remain focused, to maintain the aura of strength you almost never allowed to falter…particularly around him. But with him pressed to your back and his eyes devouring you in the mirror like a feral animal with a long-awaited meal, there were certain signs from your body that gave you away.

The elevated heart rate. The blown pupils. The pull of your bottom lip between your teeth.

It didn't take any amount of perception to see the signs that were so plainly there, particularly not for a devil who was eager to look for them.

"As you've pointed out, I'm covered in blood."

"A testament to our combined strength, my pet," you were certain with the intensity with which he was staring into your eyes' reflection in the mirror that he had stopped blinking, finding an unchanging face each time your eyes closed briefly. "Do you mind?"

He was offering you the wine glass to free up his hand or to distract yours - it was impossible to tell, really. Regardless of the intent you reached for it, taking a drink and relishing the familiar fire this particular wine ignited in your throat and belly.

Meanwhile his free hand was lightly trailing over the bow to the back laces of your clothing, giving a subtle tug to seek permission as his eyes continued to burn into yours in the mirror. With a nod the laces fell free under the quick work of his fingers - it was somewhat endearing that you knew he could do this with the snap of his fingers, yet he was choosing to do it himself, to peel you apart with his own hands. What you'd been wearing pooled to the ground and revealed the aftermath of your battle in full, all of the bruises and scratches and burns that had no place there…unless they were given by him or on his word.

His hands found your shoulders first and with a familiar warmth your injuries became another part of your past, his eyes trailing up and down your body to ensure all that remained was evidence of injuries not belonging to you.

"Positively resplendent," his breath was hot on your neck as he angled his face closer to yours, his nose brushing behind your ear softly. "A painting of this image would be so suitable for a portrait of us, wouldn't you agree?"

Bravery - it was a characteristic of yours that he cherished nearly more than any other, one that provided endless entertainment (and often worry, though he was hardly eager to admit that). It was the very trait that sometimes pushed you to do or say the very last thing he expected, and yet you still managed to take him by surprise. Even now in his domain was one of those times, your face unwavering and intention resolute as you spoke.

"Not in this form."

All he'd offer in his momentary shock was a raised eyebrow before these features faded and he transformed to the figure he was meant for, wings stretching behind his back as he got more comfortable. This is how he was meant to look - how the two of you were supposed to appear together, the devil and his toy hero, you and the source of your growing power. It would take blindness not to see the radiance with which you two joined together, and even then it was palpable in the air.

Ignoring the many feelings and tensions that crackled between the two of you when you were together was difficult - and growing more impossible by the day.

"This is suitable for the foyer."

He continued to lean down behind you, swallowing you with his true height so he could press a singular kiss behind your ear before straightening his back, his hand that was still flat against your now fluttering stomach pulling you against him tighter. Your skin burned where his lips had graced it - tingling as though his the action was magic. Your body only continued to respond to him with all of the tell-tale signs: a rising temperature, parted lips, blown pupils, quicker breath.

He so adored that you were trying to maintain control - to maintain an unbothered façade.

"You prefer me this way."

It left his mouth as a statement, but you caught the subtle insecurity at the tail of the sentence, the way his words slightly trailed and his eyes flashed with a truth - and hope? - that was so rarely seen.

Was he afraid of your answer?

"You don't need to wear a mask around me," you were quick to silence his doubt and eager to put out a particular fire that threatened everything around it boiling beneath his surface. Your sincerity and sensitivity was hardly what had initially drawn him to you - he loved that you'd always been willing to tell him your mind without a care to whom you were speaking, even himself included at times. "You would know that I preferred you this way if you spoke to me yourself more often instead of sending your little spy."

Suddenly you understood the meaning of the phrase "devilish grin" in a new light.

"Do I detect jealousy, my dear?" he purred as he leaned down toward you again, his breath tickling the back of your ear and neck and his claws dug into your hip slightly. You tried to ignore the flare of heat within you, unwilling to admit it fully quite yet. "A flicker of envy, so very subtle but clear."

You huffed and rolled your eyes in response to his taunt, annoyed he could think of a rhyme so quickly and a charming one at that, and even more annoyed that it worked. Bards.

"Korilla does not enjoy the same…benefits you do," he continued when you offered nothing in response but the puff of air, a reticent hum vibrating in your chest as you raised the cool glass to your lips to take another drink. Your eyes met his in the mirror again as you realized how long they'd been focusing on his hands, allowing your gaze to stay connected as you continued to drink.

Of course, he was hardly one to leave a silence unfilled for long.

"And what of my own feelings?" he questioned, the twitch in his jaw accentuating the frustration behind his words that he was trying to tame. "So many people you meet these days and you haven't shared with a single one where you get your power…"

It was hard to focus on a conversation like this when his claws were now grazing lower down your thigh, red lines painting your skin the evidence the Cambion's claws had been there. In the mirror you could see how he lovingly soaked in the sight of each new mark - of each new claim of his territory. You'd have far more decorations from him by the time you returned to your own camp.

"What am I supposed to think other than you're ashamed of me?"

"No," the rejection of his insinuation came from your lips faster than any reply you'd given before by far, a fact that ticked his lips into a slight smile. Though the two of you teased anda taunted one another often, you were always well aware of the line before you stepped over it. "They wouldn't understand."

"They don't have to understand…they have to respect. Besides, it's not their soul to be bothered with, and you're hardly the only warlock in your little party."

"But they won't. With the Blade of Frontiers it is different…he had no choice, not really. I did - I could've chosen anything else…anyone else. And I chose you."

"Then you will make them."

You could hear the commanding tone he rarely needed to take with you begin to form in his words, a low grumble rumbling against your chest as he spoke. At this point you knew what little remained of his patience was so close to slipping away completely - but you still couldn't stop yourself from testing those tempestuous waters just a bit more.

After all, he needed you alive just as much as you needed him. Harm too serious coming your way was out of the question, and the proof you could take a bit of pain was in the stories that would be told about you and your adventures for years to come.

"It's just another contract to you. What difference does it make?"

The final impertinent word left your lips as his hand grabbed your chin, applying pressure and encouraging you to face him. He loomed over you in this form - a delicious fact - his skin noticeably hotter against yours as he leaned closer, trapping you between his body and the wall. Flames danced in his eyes, the raging inferno matching the temporary flare of anger he felt ignited in his chest. His grip on your face was resolute, thumb and forefinger grasping so hard your cheeks were squished together.

That would certainly keep you from further insult.

"I am so very fond of you, my impudent little mouse. Can you not see that is so?"

You'd been in many dangerous - increasingly so - situations recently, but the fact this one was one of the most was…invigorating. Invigorating in the same way as when he'd first approached you with a deal, in the way he'd complimented a job well done for the first time, in the way he was overjoyed when you returned from your kidnapping. In truth - because you were not foolish enough to deny what was a plainly writ fact - you were well aware you belonged to him in every aspect of the word. It was fun to test what boundaries a relationship like that presented.

Your heart was thudding against your chest harder and faster by the moment as he continued to regard you, fully aware you couldn't respond to his question through the hold he maintained on your face.

"I will not hear more of your ill-mannered mouth while I am being such a gracious host. You are far from 'just another' anything to me…"

There was a sincerity in his words that shattered any possibility of refute.

"…and I will not tolerate our attachment being hidden any longer."

A threat, or a promise? Both were equally exhilarating in their own way. With the expression on his face - furrowed brows, pinched nose, set jaw, and nostrils flaring with each breath - his feelings toward the situation were written plain on his face. He was done arguing - and you'd be foolish to push it.

"Perhaps I could have a collar fashioned for you that only I can remove."

His hand that still held your waist pulled you closer, a muscular tail winding around your lower legs to hold you against him. One of his legs slotted between your thighs as you pressed to him closer, hands clinging to his upper arms still. His face softened somewhat at the closeness, at the shaky breath that slipped past your lips as your eyes stayed oh-so focused on the way his curved into a wicked grin the more the thought blossomed in his mind.

"One that will burn you should you even try to remove it. Or perhaps better yet, a curse," as he spoke you found yourself drawn closer, entranced by the hardness in his pants that pressed to your waist now, chasing a kiss you weren't certain he'd give. "Or I could use hellfire to brand a symbol of my name beneath your eye - small enough not to ruin your beauty, large enough that everyone who sees you knows that you are mine."

He released his hold on your face only to drop his hand lower, lightly gripping your neck in a silent show of power. He regarded your expression carefully for any sign of distress and only grinned wider when he instead found observed your blown pupils and parted lips, his fingertips soaking in your accelerated pulse beneath them.

The fire in his tone sizzled for a moment, still lingering in each word but not quite as fearsome as even just a moment before. Sweet, almost - if you didn't know any better to see through the charm.

"Swear to me anew," he cooed, his thumb rubbing along the side of your neck as he spoke, eyes gazing at you with an expression that could only be described in adoration. The most temperamental volcano, fury subsided as fast as it'd come. When there was an offer to be presented, he could truly be oh-so-sweet. "An amendment to our existing contract. You are not to hide that we are joined together, or you will face consequences that will last forever."

Did it matter if you even truly had the option to refuse him when all you wanted to do was please him again? The proposition of more appreciation, the promise of his praise. That fact alone was enough to ensure your answer before you'd given it.

You nodded in understanding - specifics beyond what he'd stated weren't needed to convey the weight of his words.

"On one condition."

The bravery again - though your voice was more meek as you rightfully walked the fiery embers before you, navigating what you knew could still erupt again if you pressed too much harder again. To prove your point his eyebrow raised in annoyance, nose threatening to scrunch upward in frustration before you elaborated.

"We seal this contract with a kiss."

An expression that had almost been rage morphed into perplexity before a laugh burst from his chest, your mind lost in the sound and the view of his fangs, thoughts wandering somewhere fittingly sinful for your surroundings.

"And you talk about my theatrics."

Despite his taunting he brought you closer with his iron grip on your waist, the hand holding your neck still sliding up to your cheek as his thumb claw grazed along your bottom lip in passing. He looked at you like a child receiving a new toy, regarded you with an adoration often seen in temples.

And then, though there was still a subtle laugh shaking his chest, he held you reverently as he angled his head toward you. The rest of his expression as he approached would go unnoticed as your eyes slipped shut, holding your breath in anticipation…which he exploited for just a moment longer than was necessary before he finally gave you what you both wanted.

Your lips met like the strike of a match - the spark between flint and stone. It burned like frostbite and was over just as soon as it'd begun, taking your remaining breath with it.

It was a purr that rumbled in his chest as he ran his nose along your jaw that reminded you to breathe, his lips pressing a kiss over a pulse point on your neck pulling a gasp from your lungs as his hand slipped down the other side of your neck. Holding you like an artifact his fangs teased the skin on the spot for a moment as his grip on your waist tightened further, the tips of his claws threatening to break skin.

He withdrew before his composure melted, filling his chest with a deep breath to bring himself to full sense again.

"Come. I'm far from through with you, but you truly do need a bath."

It was…nice, which didn't quite seem wholly appropriate considering who he was and the fact the atmosphere had been threatening and tense only moments before. He sank into the tub first, motioning for you to join him by taking place between his legs. There was a voice in the back of your mind reminding you that all of this was because he wanted something - everything possible from you, and that he knew the best way to reach his goal was to manipulate.

The fact you were aware of it did little to stop you from enjoying it.

He made sure he ate and drank in a silence you didn't know he was capable of as his hands made work cleaning your body, a bath in the House of Hope proving to be a lavish experience as the water remained pristine and hot no matter how long it went on.

*(Though, it certainly could've just been the heat between your bodies sustaining the temperature).

It was the first time you'd truly relaxed since a tadpole had taken residence in your mind, the first moment of bliss in days. When his claws found your scalp and scratched against it lightly as he massaged soap into it he earned a thank you in the form of the sweetest moan that just couldn't be held back by your lips. You felt his cock twitch against your back at the sound, an appreciative hum rumbling in his chest.

"My, my…who knew you could sound so melodic, my dear," his tone was best described as a condescending coo, treasuring the way you melted in his hold and couldn't help yourself from being his to play with. "I want to hear much more of you."

One of his hands slipped from your head down to rest on your stomach as the other went even lower to the top of your thigh, pausing still to wait for your reaction. When you leaned your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes he took his sign, chasing more of a reaction from you by running a single claw softly up your thigh toward your core. The small gasp that fell from your lips wasn't enough, his disapproval noted with a click of his tongue against his teeth. It was impossible to keep silent when one of his fingers connected to your clit, rubbing a swift circle quickly.

The cry that burst from your chest returned the smile to his face, a low laugh filling your ears again as he leaned forward to kiss your neck. Two of his fingers parted your folds as they slipped downward to your entrance, moans falling freely from your mouth you'd forgotten how to close. Taking advantage of the fact he leaned closer to claim your lips, reaching his free hand to hold the back of your head and ensure you couldn't pull away from him.

A dark possessiveness within him considered slipping his fingers into you to feel how your tight walls would grip him, though he knew it meant you would face the consequences of his claws. He could heal you, after all - but you'd always remember the feeling. He'd refrain on that particular thought…

For now.

Instead, he returned his attention to your clit, fingers circling the sensitive nub as his fingers tangled into your hair. He continued to kiss you past what your lungs could take, your eyes opening to attempt to gain his attention. His own eyes remained closed and he only held your head in a firmer grip - no doubt he knew though he couldn't see - and he continued that way until your vision was just starting to blur and your hole was clenching around nothing. Only then did he release you - releasing you fully by pulling his fingers away too - allowing you to take the breath you needed.

So close to the edge of release only to be pulled back away from it. It was a cruelty that made the first sound that left your lips when your breath returned to be a whimper.

"Please," you could barely get the shaking word through your lips, it could hardly be considered speaking when each letter was filled with a whine. "More."

"Now now, you will learn to take what I give you," he cooed, releasing his hold on your head to run the back of his fingers down the side of your face and neck, lightly pushing your head to the side to press a kiss beneath your ear. "With no questions asked. Won't you? You'll have to show me you can be patient."

You couldn't help the whimper that slipped past your lips again, your body singularly focused on its need for more. Your eyes are wide and desperate as you gazed at him, hands reaching to grasp at his thighs and squeeze. "'s not fair…"

Your ears were filled with his boisterous laugh again before he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, allowing his lips to stay against your skin as he spoke.

"Perhaps not for you, but it's perfectly lovely for me," you realized as he spoke that he was having fun, a giddiness in every word that proved it. Unrehearsed, without anger, without practiced intentions. Him. "Finish up in here at your leisure, then join me in the boudoir."

With a snap of his fingers he was gone and the option to beg for more removed you were alone, left to wonder exactly what awaited you when you did join him. The kind of excitement that matched the feelings of fear and anxiety bubbled in your stomach, making your movements a little clumsy as you navigated your way through one last wash of your body.

The feelings remained as you removed yourself from the water, realizing immediately you'd been left with no towel or robe or clothes to utilize on your walk. Feeling a flare of preemptive embarrassment you found your way to the hall, doing your best to navigate quickly as you muttered to yourself.

You were distracted in your search that you didn't notice Haarlep had stalked up to you from the dark after you'd passed until their voice filled your ears. "My, my, aren't you just delicious," he purred, continuing to walk closer toward you when you froze in your tracks. They circled you like a predator circled prey, like a painter studying their subject - it was enough to make your face burn again. "I wouldn't mind slipping into your image for the occasional rendezvous."

"Haarlep."

Their name left your lips as a gasp and they stopped in front of you with a wicked smile, handsome and proud and no doubt every bit as convincing as their Master, if not more. "So you do know me. How flattering."

You were cornered against a wall with one of their forearms resting next to your head, the other grasping your hip in fingers much gentler than the ones they were mimicking. They leaned closer until your lips were brushing together feather light, the anticipation of a kiss lingering heavy in the air and sending your heart rate skyrocketing again.

"Oh, what fun we will have together…"

Their sinful tongue left their mouth to lick the seam of your lips until they fell open, the muscle slipping into your mouth to kiss you fully and hungrily. As you swallowed their spit you started to feel new levels need, the definition of the word insatiable finally grasped in your mind. One of their knees knocked apart your legs as their hand left your thigh, slipping to examine how wet you were and finding their digits slid through your folds with embarrassing ease.

"Mm…but that will be for another time," there was a sincerity in their words that made them so believable and you were certain they were correct about it. "Tonight, your job is to make him a bit more tolerable for the rest of us. Be a good pet and behave, won't you?"

As they sauntered away in a pace that existed to entice you to follow they threw one last wink over their shoulder, pointing you in the direction of where you were meant to go. In a haze you made your way to your destination, opening the doors to find your Patron sitting on the grand bed with glistening satin sheets, lounging back against the headboard with his arms outstretched, waiting for your arrival. He'd covered himself with an expensive robe, the one he'd deprived you of.

The red of its fine fabric matched his burning aura perfectly.

He observed your clumsy movements as you closed the doors with light amusement until the two of you were once again alone, his eyes appreciating your clean form as you walked to the foot of the bed. With a smile he raised a hand to motion you forward with one finger, his features fittingly illuminated by the hellfires that illuminated the room.

He was beautiful. Enticing. This very room could become an easy prison with no locked door if you allowed your resolve to slip.

"Come," he invited in a delicious tone, using one hand to untie his robe and allow it to fall open. He patted his thigh afterward to further elaborate on his instruction, one you were more than willing to follow. "Crawl to me…show me what an obedient, eager little pup you can be."

You did exactly as he told you to, enjoying the feeling of the soft sheets against your skin as you made your way to him. You climbed into his lap and straddled his waist between your thighs, core hovering over his hard and throbbing cock that you now wanted more than logic should reasonably allow. He felt how wet you were when your thighs made contact with his skin, breathing in deep to take in the scent of your arousal.

"My, my, how very eager you are," he spoke of you as if he was being presented with the meal of a lifetime. It made you feel desired in ways you weren't sure you'd be able to experience with anyone else for the remainder of your life. "I have to wonder, did my naughty toy find you along the way?"

You nodded, the only response you found yourself capable of, grinding down against his waist in a way that allowed his length to slip through your folds and spread your slick. His hands grasped your hips to follow your movements, chest vibrating against yours with a quiet purr as he appreciated your movements.

"Oh, of course they did…sometimes they just can't help it, the sinful thing…"

Both of his hands found their way to your thighs to grab them roughly, not making any effort to be mindful about his claws in places it wouldn't seriously hurt you - something that would become a pattern for the rest of your time together. Under his fingertips he could feel the welts that raised as a result of his scratching, smiling a charming smile as he took in your expression.

Finding you perfectly needy for him he reached one hand to grab your jaw and pull you closer, leaving his face hovering inches from yours. His skin was noticeably hotter against yours now, the undeniable evidence that he was just as effected by your closeness as you were his. His other hand gave your ass a swat to encourage you to raise up on your knees again, licking his lips when he could then reach toward your core and run his fingers through your folds again.

It was easier to feel the arousal he - and Haarlep, now - had earned when you weren't submerged in a tub. His fingers took the distance from your hole to your swollen clit painfully slow, matching the deep inhale he filled his lungs with along the way. Lost in how his hands felt against your body again you hardly noticed his tail wrap around one of your legs to hold you against him tighter, ensuring there was no chance of you climbing off before he'd had his fill.

It was hardly something he needed to do, but the implications of it made the experience all the better for him - and for you too.

"Don't forget to speak to me, my dear," he cooed, no annoyance present in his voice though he was hardly happy he had to remind you as he exercised a bit of patience at your current state. "I simply adore hearing the desperation in your words."

"Please, I need…"

Though he'd requested them your words were cut off as he pulled you against him rougher, pressing his throbbing length up into her core as he does. Your sentence quickly turned into a moan, your hands grabbing at his shoulders so you could cling to him in every sense of the word.

"Do go on."

You hated that his taunting tone sent a shiver down your spine and a hot wave of arousal straight to your core. Your desperation flooded every word that came from your mouth. "I need more," you were begging without having to be asked for it, something he would thank you for at a later time. "Something…a-anything you'll give me."

"Anything I'll give you?"

Was that particular choice of words a mistake? You found you couldn't come to a rational answer as you became lost in the embers of his eyes. You nodded, grinding against him to further your consent and ensure the point was driven home - you wanted him in whatever capacity he'd provide, in any way that would earn you more of his favor.

You hadn't realized your lip was quivering and your eyes were slightly watering out of the desperation but he had, soaking in the sight of you so wanton and lustful for him. It was his favorite look on you by far, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to see how truly indecent he could make you behave.

And all for him.

"Then prove to me you deserve it. Prove to me you're worth the effort from me and then I will prove to you that you are mine."

You only leaned closer to entice him the rest of the distance between you. You reached between your bodies with one hand to grasp his cock and rub it through your folds again, lining it up with your entrance and teasing down onto the tip slightly to test what he'd allow. He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to express a thought that disappeared as you began to sink onto him, maintaining the eye contact you knew he loved as you moaned out his name quietly. He forgave you when your eyes fluttered closed to focus on taking his length and girth, your forehead falling down against his shoulder as a heavy breath fell from your lips.

"That's it," he was quick to compliment your efforts to ensure you knew how much he appreciated it, hoping the praise would keep you from giving up. "You can take me. Do not get discouraged…"

Your head nodded as another steady breath left your chest, shifting your hips to find the right angle to take him in. Though his words were honied you knew he was hardly the patient type and to avoid a temper change you pushed yourself onto as much of his length as you could take, finally earning a groan from him that was worth the quick shot of pain that being stretched like this brought. One of his arms reached to wrap around your waist and his other hand found the back of your head, cradling you against his form. His wings soon joined, wrapping both of you in privacy and what felt like the ultimate safety.

Within his wings it would be impossible for anyone who entered to see how well you began to ride him after a long adjustment period, how after several minutes of grinding and shifting and allowing him to pump into you you began to take him perfectly. Though he maintained his hold on your head your lips were finding their way to any place they could reach on his neck, chest, and jaw, eagerly nibbling and licking and sucking - testing if you could mark him like he'd undoubtedly mark you.

He decided you were testing him when you bit into him hard, his surprise announced by a grunt and a squeeze from his hand holding your hip. He gave your hair a tug to pull you upward into a hungry kiss, your moans joining together in the room as your hands grabbed his horns to hold him against you.

This is how he wanted you for him forever.

As your tongues danced your movements slowed, his hands meeting on your upper back to press your chest closer to his. Allowing you a partial breath he pulled away from the kiss to watch your face twist in pleasure as his claws dragged slowly down your back, pressing harder the lower they reached as he experimented with what you'd allow. You were eager to prove exactly what he'd requested - you could take what he would give.

His own head dropped to claim one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue circling your nipple and flicking the nub several times before he changed his efforts to suck hard enough to bruise, glad he could stay here without a real breath for longer than what you may have previously experienced. He only pulled away to bite a mark into the soft flesh that immediately spilled some blood - as you continued to ride him exactly how you liked you either didn't notice or you didn't mind, either of which were fine by him.

"Very good," he purred, remembering how well you normally responded to his praise. He was thanked by a quiet moan and your walls tightening, fluttering around his length as he struck just the right cord in you. "Should I allow you release before I have my way with you?"

You were nodding before his sentence was fully complete and begging incoherently as your face buried into his neck again, continuing to lavish the skin with kisses. Your thighs began to shake at the mere thought of release, at how it would feel to gush around his length and how he would moan feeling you constrict him.

Whatever words he chose to give you permission were not fully understood, only their intent mattered. Though he wanted to pump into you at his own pace he allowed you to find release in this position yourself, happy it didn't take much longer for your walls to clamp around him and your head to throw back in ecstasy, your screams undoubtedly filling every wall in the house despite the closed door.

He held you down on his length as you spasmed through the high, enjoying the feeling of your body against his and focusing on how you felt held in his arms. He was always going to take what he wanted from you after you'd found this release but the longer he soaked in how small you were against his frame the more his own carnal desire began to take over his thoughts, a feral need building that wouldn't be long ignored.

"You have hold of me like an addiction," he breathed out heavy, shifting his hips beneath you - earning a whimper - wondering how much you'd truly be able to take. "So…unh…tight…"

Before you had fully returned to your senses he was pushing you onto your back, staying inside you with little effort and pinning you down with one hand on your stomach. His other hand rested at the base of your throat with his forearm beside your head, and just as your mind began to fathom how dangerous the position you were in was he kissed you slowly, silencing reason once again.

You could feel how sensitive you were as he pumped his length into you a few times - slowly to test your reaction. He pulled away from the kiss to examine your face, finding it filled with pleasure and overstimulation - traces of pain were there but you gave no indication he needed to stop.

"Do you think you can take what I will give you?"

His lips moved against yours sensually as he spoke, and you opened your mouth to answer for only a sob to be released. Instead you just nodded, hoping it would be enough in the circumstances and looking into his eyes with a pleading expression. He pressed a kiss to your bottom lip and pushed every inch you could take into you roughly, earning another sob that was muffled as he bit into your bottom lip enough to cause it to swell. He pulled away from the action with a wicked grin and savored your expression for a moment longer before this position came to an end.

He pulled out of you slowly, moving to stand next to the bed. In your haze you listened to him give you instructions to get on your knees and elbows, instructions you followed hastily on shaky limbs as he stroked his length watching you obey. When you were finally presenting yourself to him exactly how he wanted he mounted behind you, still grasping his length in one hand as his other reached forward to circle your dripping hole with two fingers.

"Precious. I will try not to break you."

His fingers were gone and replaced with his cock swiftly, his restraint gone as he thrusted in as far as he could, still trying to press further when he reached the end and smiling when the most beautiful cry filled the room from you. He groaned out deep as his hand found your stomach, pressing against it to hold you upward, reaching his other hand to slip the fingers that were coated in your slick into your mouth.

"So small beneath me," he breathed out, leaning forward to press a kiss over one of the red welts he'd created on your back. He engulfed you in this position, you were at his complete mercy - all hope of being anything but his ever again gone. He would never give you up. "On your knees for me. Just where you should be."

He forgot to be somewhat gentle with you as he thrust into you at a feral pace - or perhaps he just didn't care how little you were able to move when he was through. He continued to kiss your neck, shoulders, and back in any place he could reach, his teeth marking your skin anywhere he could manage. His claws were just as helpful in regard to marking you, reaching to scratch at your thighs and back - until he focused his hand's attention on your ass, spanking and scratching and grabbing roughly as proved to give him additional leverage as he pounded into you.

He was already obsessed with the way you took him with moans and cries while ensuring you stayed in the position he'd molded you into, eyes transfixed on how your tight hole took his length. When this whole Absolute ordeal was taken care of at your hands, he'd happily take this sight every day.

"Look at you just taking me," his voice was shaking now, matching your legs once again. His hand left your stomach to squeeze your throat, accentuating the fact that you were truly just taking whatever he would give. "And you do it so well, you sweet thing."

Content with how marked you were for him his hands instead grasped your waist in the gentlest grasp he'd offered yet, not quite matching the ferocity at which he pounded into you. Through blurred vision you were half aware of the familiar figure that slipped into the room through the shadows, the incubus unable to keep away witnessing what was filling the House with the irresistible sounds of flesh smacking against flesh.

You didn't know if Raphael noticed - you didn't care. You doubted a complaint would be heard if you offered one, and they would leave after you'd reached your release and they'd heard your euphoria anyway.

(Though you did momentarily hope that sinful tongue they'd offered earlier could be put to a better use, though you knew your body would be spent by then).

"Give me another," he ordered, feeling how your body was tensing up again at the threat of release, eager to feel you snap again. "And I want to hear it…"

He reached to rub your clit again at a speed that matched his thrusts, eager to feel how tight you'd squeeze him when you came undone, already intoxicated by the way your velvet walls were fluttering around his length. He was taking what he wanted from your body at a roughness that would no doubt leave bruises for you to feel on the road to Baldur's Gate - he certainly wouldn't heal marks that were a gift from him covering your back and neck and causing you to walk with a limp that so clearly displayed you had coupled with him.

He let you fall to the bed fully, only finding he was able to pound into you harder as you laid flat on your stomach. Unwilling to have you pass out he grabbed your hair on the back of your head and pulled hard enough to force it back so you could continue to breathe, leaning his torso over yours until he could twist your head and claim your lips in a rough kiss. He was hungry - feral - fully lost in himself as he chased his own pleasure, releasing all inhibition as he found his release. The only warning it was coming was the sloppiness that overtook his thrusts as the end neared, a growl rumbling in his chest as he pulled away from your lips to instead bite into your shoulder.

His seed was molten as it filled you, overflowing past his length. As his release filled your womb his teeth broke your skin and he tasted your blood as he was lost in his pleasure. He'd crave its flavor that was entirely you just as often as he'd crave claiming your womb now, knowing the mark would show you were his.

He continued to pump into you slowly several more times, holding you still as you squirmed and whimpered from the overstimulation, hearing the shake in your breaths and sweet sounds that proved to him you were crying. When he decided to pull out completely his chest shook with a quiet, dark laugh, finding a comfortable position straddling over your ass. His hands were loving in the way a curator's were with art, running over your scratched and bitten back adoringly for several moments, fingertips tracing the marks that would last the longest. He leaned down to press a kiss to a particularly possessive bite mark before removing his weight from you, rolling you to your side to to check that you were still capable of coherency.

You blinked up at him with glassy eyes, tear-stained cheeks proving he had been right about your tears. He leaned to press a single gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulled the blanket over your weak body. Selfish of a creature as he was, he was still capable of some semblance of aftercare - though that was it, it was enough from someone like him to someone like you.

"Well done, my dear. A wonderful demonstration of your devotion to me."

This praise - this tone. The very reason you'd do anything he asked, become anything he needed you to become. Anything he asked of you in a moment like this you'd provide. Part of you wondered how long it would take for him to exploit that fact.

"Next time you've behaved for me I will have Haarlep join us. They can lick my seed clean from you as I watch how you look beneath me."

(You'd think more on that particular promise later, when your mind was capable of wrapping around anything other than Raphael's finger again).

His new tone was undeniable and impossible to ignore, the reverence steeping every syllable enough to drown in them. Appreciation, worship. It was difficult to decide if being beneath him or hearing this newfound depth of praise was more fulfilling. You nuzzled closer to him still just barely conscious, physically submitting to the exhaustion that overtook every inch of yourself.

You nodded your head lazily in agreement before burrowing your face in his neck, enjoying the familiar scent of cherries, musk and sulphur that had come to mean power and protection to you. If you were lucky those sinful notes would linger in your senses in the coming day.

Though he was far from one to cuddle, he wasn't one to complain when presented with any show of mutual adoration from you, and he allowed his tail to drape across your legs in a subtle concession to your own desires.

Beyond that, he was still, but he was content.

"Rest," you were intoxicated with this voice, one you couldn't help but wonder how few beings had heard it, one free of any performance - honest, soft. "You will need it before you continue your journey. When you wake you'll be in camp with your cohorts, and when you reach the city again you will return to me."

In your last moments of consciousness, you remained his eager little pup.

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

[bellaxgiornata]

Life Worth Living |Chapter Two|

Pairing: Matt x mutant!fem!Reader Word count: 5.8k [Series Masterlist] [Matt Murdock Masterlist]

tags/warnings: 18+; dark themes/content, canon typical violence, emotional hurt/comfort, PTSD, smut, plot twists, fluff and angst, torture, mentions of sexual abuse, canon divergence, Reader has a fake name & is Matt's neighbor

a/n: This update definitely has some angst and gore in it, be warned! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tag list: @kmc1989 @let-it-go-and-live-again @paracosmic-murdock @fries11 @thetorturedpoetcalleddez

The coffee shop was teeming with the morning rush, most patrons standing agitatedly in the long line as they waited for their caffeine fix before heading into work. The smell of fresh roasted coffee filled the air as Karen and you stood near the counter waiting for your orders in relative silence, the both of you almost shoulder to shoulder in the crowded coffee shop. Your eyes felt like they were on fire as you raised a hand, rubbing at them as if that would somehow alleviate the exhaustion you felt this morning.

“You weren’t kidding about staying out all night,” you muttered to Karen.

She sent you a sheepish smile, her hands fidgeting with the belt on her skirt as she glanced down. “Yeah,” she breathed out awkwardly. “I uhm, I really didn’t feel comfortable going back home last night.” She tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear before shooting you a tight smile. “Thanks for coming back to my apartment with me, too. I didn't really want to wear that dress for an entire second day and I just…really didn’t want to go there alone.”

You shrugged lightly in response, smiling at her next to you. Last night you’d learned the story of how she’d met both Foggy and Matt–they’d been her lawyers in a murder case. A crime she hadn’t committed that had happened in her own apartment because of her employers trying to keep her quiet. You didn’t exactly blame her for not wanting to go back there by herself after that, and it wasn't like you were afraid of anyone lurking in there, either. You certainly weren't defenseless. 

“Wasn’t a problem,” you assured her. “I didn’t mind.”  

She nodded in response, inhaling deeply before forcing a smile onto her face. “Thanks for coming out last night, too. Though, I’m sorry Foggy and I were probably incredibly annoying.” She laughed softly, glancing away as if she was somewhat embarrassed. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like to deal with sober.”

An amused huff fell out of you as you recalled last night. Karen had remained in a giggly state almost for the duration of the evening while Foggy had very obviously flirted with her–something she appeared oblivious to. Besides learning about how Karen had become friends with Foggy and Matt, you’d managed to dodge too many personal questions about yourself with how drunk they’d gotten.

“Honestly, it was fun,” you told her. “Though I can’t say it wasn’t more enjoyable when you both finally sobered up early this morning.” 

The barista behind the counter called out your orders, placing the paper cups down onto the marbled countertop. Both of you stepped forward to grab them, each of you moving sluggish from not having slept at all last night. They really had been determined to stay out all night–or at least, Karen certainly had.

“But it was definitely more enjoyable to converse with you two when you could make coherent sentences again,” you teased her, bringing your coffee to your lips.

“Oh, God,” Karen grumbled, wiping a hand down her face in embarrassment. “We must have sounded ridiculous.”

The pair of you maneuvered your way through the busy shop, heading towards the exit. Pushing the door open, you stepped out onto the sidewalk and into the morning bustle of the city rushing past. A few people shot you both glares as you tried to weave through the swarm of foot traffic outside.

“Just a bit,” you said with a grin.

Karen took a sip of her cappuccino, eyes closing to revel in the caffeine for a moment beside you as you both walked. When she opened her eyes again, she glanced over her shoulder at you, a warm smile on her lips.

“Thanks for the coffee, too,” she said, holding it up.

“Looked like you could use one after last night,” you replied. “And considering you offered to work for Foggy and Matt for free, I thought I’d help you out.”

She bit her lip as she came to a stop beside the street, pausing to look both ways before beginning to cross. You followed after her, keeping an eye out for traffic as you went. 

“I really should get them to pay me something,” she said with a laugh. “I can't exactly pay my bills without money.”

“Yes, you definitely should,” you agreed.

The pair of you continued down the sidewalk across the street, walking side by side and exhaustedly sipping at your warm drinks. Your body felt like it was on the verge of collapsing and you knew the lone coffee wouldn’t be enough to make it through the day. You probably shouldn’t have stayed out quite so long with them, but you’d genuinely been enjoying yourself. Something that didn't happen often.

A few minutes later, Karen stopped abruptly in front of a brick building. Almost running into her in surprise, some of your coffee sloshed up onto the lid when you halted. Beside you, Karen waved her hand at a sketchy looking door as she smiled at you.

“This is it,” she said.

Your brows furrowed at the sight of the building as you scanned it over before taking in the sign on top. This looked nothing like the law firm her and Foggy had been telling you about last night. Even the sign was for a hardware shop.

“This is Nelson and Murdock?” you asked skeptically. 

Karen rolled her eyes as she stepped over to the dingy white door set into the brick of the building. “I know what it looks like,” she said. “But there's actually a few different offices inside. Come on, I’ll give you a brief tour.”

Following after her, you entered the building and headed down the hall past multiple different office suites. Curiously, you glanced at each one as you passed them until the pair of you reached the last door at the end of the hall. On the glass of it there was a taped piece of paper with the words ‘Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys at Law’ written in black sharpie. 

You waited silently as Karen unlocked the door to the office, sipping at your coffee as you wondered what to expect inside. A moment later, she swung open the door and stepped into the office. Following in after her, you immediately noticed the folding table with a small stack of papers on top of it in the main room. Just opposite of the table, up against the wall, were a few boxes which appeared to be filled with files. You took a few steps into the room, surprised at how sparse it was.

Dropping her purse onto the folding table, Karen turned around and took another sip of her coffee, her eyes on you over the lid of it as she drank. Swallowing down the liquid, she lowered her cup and raised a brow at you.

“Would you like the grand tour?” she asked.

Biting your lip in response, you glanced around the small office. A tour? You didn’t think there was much to tour here.

“Sure?” you answered hesitantly. 

Karen set her coffee down on the table beside her purse before waving her arms around the both of you in a wide, sweeping gesture. “This is my office. It’s where I answer calls and sit and greet clients–if we had any.” Pushing off the folding table, she crossed the room and pushed a door to the right open before gesturing inside. “This is Foggy’s office–he’s working on decorating, or so he says.” 

She closed the office door before turning and pointing to a door beside Foggy’s office, though she didn’t bother to open it. 

“In there is supposed to be the conference room,” she explained, “but there’s absolutely no furniture. So right now it’s just an empty room.”

Your finger tapped idly against the cup in your hand, watching as she crossed the main office, her heels clicking along the floor. She pushed open the door to another room on the opposite side of the space, and you took a step forward, peering inside curiously. Just like Foggy’s office, there was only a worn desk and a folding chair inside of it.

“And this is Matt’s office,” she told you. “We’re uh, still working on getting more office furniture.” 

“I can see that,” you mused.

Drawing your coffee cup to your lips for another drink, you watched as Karen moved just past Matt’s office, gesturing to a small little corner of a space tucked away inside the main office. It was so tiny and hidden that you hadn’t even noticed it there at first.

"And this is our break room,” she told you, sweeping her hand towards the space that looked like it barely fit one person in it at a time. “There's a little coffee maker and some cups but that's about it. Foggy keeps stealing sugar packets for us, but we’d need coffee or tea to put it in. So really, all we have is sugar."

You bit back the smile threatening to overtake your face at the comment as Karen headed back towards the folding table, resting her hip against it. That definitely sounded like the Foggy you’d gotten to know last night. 

“And that’s the tour,” she said, grabbing her coffee from off the table.

Eyes scanning around the small office, you took it in once more. “When they said they just started their own practice together,” you began, focusing back on her, “they really did mean they just opened it, didn't they?”

Karen had opened her mouth to answer you, but the door to the office swung open behind you before she could get a word out. Turning around, you saw Foggy step inside, a coffee in his own hand and obvious dark circles under his eyes. He grinned when he spotted you, shutting the door behind himself.

“Olivia, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Foggy greeted. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Karen and I grabbed coffee across the street,” you told him, eyeing the way he rubbed at his forehead. “You doing okay there, Nelson?”

“Me?” Foggy asked, perking up at your question. “I’m great. Or I will be when I finish this,” he answered, raising his cup of coffee in the air. “Just next time,” he said, glancing behind you to Karen, “maybe we shouldn’t drink the eel.”

Karen let out a laugh, quickly nodding her head in agreement. Eyes following as Foggy made his way further into the office, you watched as he took a sip of his coffee. He looked like he was about to pass out any minute–and he’d actually gone home to be responsible and get a couple hours of sleep. 

“You keep saying that,” you pointed out, raising your latte to your mouth, “and now I’m not sure I even want to know what that means.”

“This drink at Josie’s bar,” Foggy began, turning back towards you. He opened his mouth before pausing, shaking his head and waving a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t matter. Just tell me ‘no' if I ever ask you to do it.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” you assured him.

The sound of the door opening again caught the attention of all three of you. Looking over your shoulder, you caught sight of your neighbor, Matt. Almost instantly you noticed the way he was moving slowly as he gently closed the door behind himself. Seconds later, you felt that odd prickling feeling dancing along your skin and your eyes narrowed at him.

“Hey buddy!” Foggy called out as Matt leant his cane against the wall. “We were just–”

Foggy broke off on a gasp the moment your attention flickered to the same thing his just had. There was a deep purple bruise blooming across his face, barely concealed behind those dark glasses.

“Dude, what happened to your eye?” Foggy asked.

“Shit,” Karen breathed out from across the room, wincing at the sight of his face. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Matt answered offhandedly, adjusting his glasses further up his nose. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going last night. It was my fault. Not a big deal.”

Standing there holding your coffee in your hand, you eyed Matt curiously. You’d seen plenty of bruises in your time. There was no way he’d just had an accident that gave him something that looked quite so painful.

“You need a service dog,” Foggy pointed out, gesturing his coffee at Matt. “I keep telling you that, but this just proves it.”

Matt chuckled at the comment, shaking his head. “I am not going to get a dog, Foggy.”

“And why not? What’s wrong with dogs?” Foggy pressed. “Do you not like dogs? Because Matt, buddy, everyone loves dogs.”

“I love dogs,” Karen tossed out.

Foggy waved a hand at Karen, his energy levels clearly picking back up. You smiled as you took another sip of coffee, watching the trio with amusement. Though you still couldn’t shake that lingering feeling of something passing over your skin.

“Exactly!” Foggy exclaimed before turning towards you. “Olivia? Chime in here?” The second Matt’s eyebrows drew together in confusion, Foggy quickly turned towards his friend and business partner. “Your new neighbor, Olivia, is here, by the way,” Foggy explained briefly. “Suppose we should’ve led with that.”

Clearing your throat awkwardly when Foggy’s expectant expression focused on you again, you shrugged. Truthfully, you’d never had much experience with a dog. Or any pet for that matter. Though you’d stumbled across stray cats.

“I mean I’m…partial to cats?” you offered.

“Oh come on!” Foggy groaned, tossing his head back.

Matt’s lip twitched upwards at the corner, a small smile playing across them at your response. His head tilted in the direction your voice had come from and the hair on your arms rose. That was…odd. It was almost as if you could feel him focusing on you. But why?

“Good morning, Olivia,” Matt greeted you, voice full of charm. “I didn’t realize you were here, I apologize or I’d have greeted you sooner.”

“Oh that’s–” you paused, clearing your throat before shaking your head. Why was his attention making you physically feel so strange? “It’s alright. Good morning, Matt.”

“You missed a hell of a night last night,” Foggy cut in, his eyes narrowing at Matt over his coffee cup. “Where even were you? Karen and I were banging on your door for a while but you never answered.”

“I was uh…” Matt coughed, glancing down at the floor. “Busy.”

Foggy paused before something like recognition dawned on him at what Matt had told him. “Uh huh. Well while you were busy, Karen and I went out and got drunk. Since you weren’t around, we ended up roping Olivia here into staying up all night with us.”

Matt’s brows rose high behind his dark glasses, his head lifting curiously at that. “Did you now?” he asked.  

His head turned in your direction again, that weird feeling still present along your skin. How the hell did he have that effect on you? It made no sense and it was making it hard to focus. 

“They made a good point,” you answered, eyes still curiously narrowed at him in return. “I just moved here and don’t really know anyone. Staying up all night with two strangers in a new city sounded like a horribly great idea.”

Matt’s smile slowly grew at your response. Even with his glasses on, you could see the way the lines near his eyes crinkled. There was a lone dimple in his cheek that you caught beneath the dark stubble on his face. 

“Then I deeply regret my absence last night, Miss Allen,” Matt said, his voice smooth as he spoke. 

He paused, his tongue briefly flitting out against his lips. The motion drew your eyes and you could have sworn his lips twitched into a smirk. 

“I wish I could have helped welcome you to the city,” he continued. “Maybe some other time you’d be interested in coming out with us to Josie’s?”

Biting your lip, you hesitated. He seemed harmless enough, though whatever effect he had on you was confusing. You weren’t sure if it was something to be concerned about or not, but maybe more time around him might help you make sense of whatever was happening.

“I suppose I’d be open to that,” you answered slowly, brows faintly pinched together as you studied him. “Though, I think I’m done staying out all night.”

Matt chuckled, that charming grin still on his face. “Of course. Wouldn’t expect you to repeat that anytime soon.”

“We definitely are not twenty-one anymore,” Foggy agreed, running a hand through his hair in exhaustion. “I need coffee in an IV this morning. And whatever else has caffeine in–”

A knock came at the door of the office, the sound abruptly cutting Foggy off. You watched as all three just stood there in a mixture of surprise and confusion. 

“Someone’s at the door?” Foggy asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“It would appear so,” Matt answered, still grinning. Turning his attention on Karen, his dark brows rose behind the red lenses. “Karen? You want to get that? It appears we might have a client.”

Karen blinked a few times in surprise before she shook her head, plastering a smile onto her face. “Right, yeah, a client,” she said, almost in disbelief at the fact. “Yeah, let me just–”

Stepping out of the way, you watched as Karen hurried over to the door and opened it. The moment a tall, well-dressed man in what looked to be an expensive suit appeared in the doorway, you felt that odd prickle along your skin abruptly dissipate. Your eyes shifted over to Matt, your brows only pinching further together as you watched him focusing on the doorway now.

Odd.

“Hello,” the man greeted, a professional air about him as he scanned everyone in the room. “Do you do walk-ins?”

Foggy immediately hurried over to greet the gentleman before you smiled awkwardly back at Karen, taking a step towards the door. You needed to get back to your own place now and they were clearly about to be busy.

“I should actually get back,” you told the group. “Don’t want to be late logging in for work.”

Foggy sent you a brief smile before focusing his full attention on the potential client who looked like he might actually pay them considering how well dressed he was. Karen waved at you before you ducked your head, turning towards the exit and quickly pulling the door back open.

“It was good running into you again, Olivia,” Matt called after you.

Hesitating out in the hallway, you glanced over your shoulder at him. He was looking at you again, and that odd sensation was back passing over your skin. You caught the way his head canted to the side, his smile slightly faltering, before you turned and darted down the hall.

Your day dragged on painfully slow today–which you easily credited to the lack of sleep. You’d had to make two more lattes just to survive all the way to half past four when your shift ended. By the time you’d finished for the day, your eyes felt like they were barely open. 

No more all nighters just to make friends. 

Having absolutely no energy to even think about cooking for the evening, you headed into your bedroom and sat on the edge of your bed with your phone in hand. Pulling up a food delivery app on the device, you scrolled through the plethora of options–something you were quickly discovering you loved about being in such a large city. There was so much you’d yet to experience. 

You spent a few minutes ordering food in the app before grabbing some clothing from your dresser. Afterwards, you’d crossed the hall to your bathroom and taken a very long, very hot shower that felt far too good on your aching and exhausted body. It wasn’t until your stomach was rumbling in hunger that you forced yourself to finally turn off the hot water and get out. Your food would probably be delivered soon, anyway. 

Finished drying off and dressing after your shower, you felt partially more alive than you had all day. Though, you still planned to pass out in your bed once you’d finished your dinner. Last night had really taken its toll on you. 

Heading down the short hallway towards your living room, you collapsed onto the gray sofa before tossing your legs up along the cushions. Resting your head along the armrest, you sunk into the couch and relaxed, closing your eyes. But the longer you laid there like this, the closer to falling asleep you grew. 

With a huff, you forced yourself to sit up on the couch before reaching over to grab the television remote from off of your coffee table. Aimlessly you began flipping through the channels, not particularly interested in watching anything as you waited for your food. Eventually you settled on some local news segment, your attention caught by the three news anchors currently discussing the mysterious vigilante in Hell's Kitchen that you’d been hearing about this past week. The Masked Man.

"Some say he's a hero," the brunette reporter said, her attention on her two male co-anchors beside her. "Apparently after last night, rumors are flying around the city saying that he was responsible for taking down that human trafficking ring. They’re even claiming that he saved a young boy who’d been kidnapped."

One of the men on screen scoffed at the information, rolling his eyes. "The Man in the Mask is nothing but some guy with an ego problem,” he countered. “He plays at being a hero, but really he’s just out there assaulting people at night. Doesn't matter if they're criminals–it's still against the law. I mean, where do we draw the line?"

"You're completely right," the other man began, adjusting the glasses on his nose. "This is something that is best left to the police. It's their job to handle things and this vigilante is only getting in the way and making more work for our law enforcement. And, God forbid, he encourages others to come out and do the same."

Stifling a yawn behind a hand, you tried to stay awake as you listened to the segment. Over the past week since you'd moved to the city, you’d heard brief rumblings about this vigilante that some people were beginning to call the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Whenever you’d been out grabbing coffee or picking up groceries–even just waiting at crosswalks–you’d overheard people recounting sightings of him in the area. Or you’d heard people discussing how he'd helped someone they knew. He sounded more like a hero to you than these news anchors wanted to admit.

Running a hand over your forehead, you noticed how the three reporters on the news station had switched back over to discussing the Shlottman case. You sat up straighter on the couch, your eyes now focused on the screen with what they began saying.

"Don't even get me started on this ridiculous story," the man with glasses groaned. "It's absurd! It's just a young girl grasping at straws to avoid her rightful conviction. I mean hell," he continued, voice raising, "there's video footage of her committing the crime in the elevator!"

"I'll have to agree with you, Mark," the brunette reporter said with a laugh, the smile on her face making your stomach twist. "If there was a man running around the city with the ability to control minds, I think we'd have heard about him before now."

A flood of fear shot straight through you as your hand gripped the cushions of the couch. Eyes darting around your dark apartment, you felt your pulse quicken.

It's just a coincidence. It's not him.

"Exactly!" Mark exclaimed. "Some guy with the ability to control others? To tell them what to do? And he's using it to make a young woman kill her parents? No," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not buying it. But I would buy an insanity plea."

"You know," the other news anchor piped in, "the man arrested for this morning's armed robbery is claiming he was also mind controlled to commit the crime."

The three anchors shared a laugh at the joke as your eyes flew back to the television screen. Your nails dug into the cushion even tighter, your breath coming in a bit sharper.

"I heard about that!" the woman said. "Said that man told him to do it, just like he did with Shlottman. What a story!"

You could feel the color drain from your face at the callous discussion occurring on your television. A sick feeling began to twist your stomach as they laughed.

"Mine."

Shrieking in surprise, you jumped at the voice before darting to the other end of the couch, practically curling up against the armrest. You swore you’d felt the pass of warm breath against your ear at the entirely too familiar voice.

"My little dove."

Bolting up off the couch, you took a few steps towards your television, keeping your back to the wall as your eyes scanned your apartment in search of where the voice had come from. With your heart hammering in your throat, your palms dampening in fear, you soon realized you were still alone. It was just in your head–just like he had once been. 

A knock came from your apartment door and another startled shriek flew past your lips, your head whipping in the direction of the noise. As your fear increased, so did the faintest, familiar vibration in your skull.

"Uh sorry, didn't mean to scare you in there," a woman's hesitant voice called from the other side of the door. "You're Miss Allen, right? Ordered some tacos from Nina's for delivery?"

Exhaling roughly at the woman’s confused voice, you ran a hand over your face. It was just the food you’d ordered before you’d taken a shower. You were just overtired and on edge, that’s all.

He's not here. He isn't looking for me.

Closing your eyes, you focused on trying to calm your breath until that faint vibration in your head dissipated. When it finally did, you made your way down the entry hall to the door, pulling back the cover on the peephole just to make sure she really was delivering food. On the other side of your door stood a woman in her early twenties with a bag of food in one hand clearly labeled Nina's Tacos. Letting the cover drop, you tried to relax before unlocking the deadbolt and the door lock. 

The second the door was open, the woman sent you an awkward smile. She eyed you cautiously, probably noticing the way you clung to the door as if you were one second from slamming it shut on her face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she apologized again.

Hesitantly, she held out the bag of food towards you. Giving her a final once over, you decided she wasn’t a threat. Reaching your hand out, you grabbed the bag from her.

"Just jumpy from lack of sleep," you muttered.

“Right, uh…have a good night, then," she replied awkwardly.

"You too.”

Instantly you closed the apartment door, quickly putting the locks back into place. You could just barely catch the woman muttering something unintelligible under her breath–probably about your rudeness–before you made your way back to the living room. Settling down on your couch, your eyes once more darted around your apartment as you set the bag of food onto the coffee table. You were still alone in here.

Snatching the remote from off of your coffee table, you quickly switched the channel to something else, roughly pressing your finger on the button of your remote. No more news for tonight. You’d find something that wouldn’t remind you of him.

A flash of bright red sprayed across the hall with such force that the blood splattered against the glass window of your small, square room. Bright red dripped down on the other side of the thick glass directly opposite of where the palms of your hands were pressed against it. Breath stuck in your throat and eyes wide in shock, you watched Doctor Barlowe drop heavily to her knees before she slumped forward, falling face first onto the once pristine floor. A surgical scalpel slipped from her limp hand, now lying in a pool of crimson. 

Eyes shifting to the scalpel, you stared at it in complete horror before your gaze slowly drifted up to the unfamiliar figure on the other side of the glass. He was standing beside a terrified Doctor Whitlock, the man looking frozen from fear after what had just happened to Doctor Barlowe. The strange man dressed in a dark suit glanced through the glass at you, a friendly, almost warm smile on his face as his eyes met yours. He stepped forward towards the wall near your room, pressing the button for the intercom as he held your stare. 

“Don’t be afraid of me, little dove,” he told you, his accented voice coming through the speakers and filling your cell. “I’m not here to hurt you, I’m here to free you.” 

He lifted his finger from the button before turning his attention to Whitlock. The man was still completely frozen in terror in the hallway outside of your cell. You couldn’t fathom why he wasn’t running away, especially with Barlowe’s body sprawled lifeless just feet in front of him. But then you saw something in his hand, something you hadn’t noticed in all the chaos. He was holding a syringe filled with the vibrant orange serum you’d often been injected with. 

Silently, you watched the man in the dark suit say something to Doctor Whitlock, his voice too quiet for you to hear within your cell. Hands still pressed against the bloodstained glass, you watched as Whitlock shook his head back at the man, his lips moving rapidly as his hand holding the serum began to raise, hesitating just at his own neck.

Eyes darting back towards the man in the suit, you felt your heart pounding as he stalked casually over towards Whitlock, an easy smile on his face as he casually side-stepped the dead body on the floor. He reached Doctor Whitlock, lightly patting him on the cheek before he said something else. Whitlock turned and took a few steps forward towards your cell, his eyes wide and pleading as his mouth kept moving–but you couldn’t hear anything from inside of your room.

The man stepped up behind Whitlock, leaning forward enough to whisper into his ear. Without warning, Whitlock jammed the syringe into his neck and roughly pushed the plunger down, his following scream just somewhat muffled by the thick walls of your room. Mouth falling open in shock, your eyes darted back up to the man in the suit. He was smiling warmly back at you from his place behind Doctor Whitlock as the man continued screaming, his hands clawing at his throat. But the suited man appeared completely uninterested in his pain.

Doctor Whitlock’s muffled screams suddenly went silent a few seconds later, the abruptness of it causing your brows to pinch together. That’s when you noticed how red his face had become–a deep shade that was almost violet. The man in the suit walked around him as he headed back towards the intercom for your cell, his attention only somewhat focused on the struggling Whitlock. But by the time the man in the suit had reached the intercom again, Whitlock’s eyes had rolled back into his head, the whites of them all that were left visible–and they were quickly turning bright red.

And then, with a muffled pop, Doctor Whitlock’s head exploded into a mess of blood and gore. A scream flew out of your lips as you pushed away from the glass, panic racing through you as you sent a horrified look at the man in the suit. His lip was curled in disgust as he eyed the blood and brain matter that had landed on his dark suit coat, but when he glanced up and met your gaze again through the glass, that oddly gentle expression returned. He reached out and pressed the intercom button, his eyes fixed on you as he spoke.

“They deserved this, don’t feel any remorse,” his smooth voice droned through the speaker. “And you, little dove, don’t belong in a cage.”

Eyes flying wide open, you lay in your bed breathing heavily. Shoving yourself upright in a panic, you pushed yourself back up against the headboard and immediately wrapped your arms around your body. You were shaking along the mattress, trying desperately to focus and ground yourself in your room in the dark–your lamp on the bedside table, the feel of your sheets against your skin, the sound of your own gasping breaths.  

“Come back, little dove.”

Your eyes clamped shut instantly. “No,” you ground out forcefully.

“You belong with me.”

“Shut up, shut up!” you shouted, throwing your hands over your ears as you violently shook your head.

His laugh filled your bedroom, reverberating around the space and somehow past your hands covering your ears. You flinched at the sound of it.

“You’re mine, little dove.”

You felt a hand graze the bare skin along the back of your neck and jolted with a loud scream. Flailing your limbs, you attempted to free yourself of your bedsheets that had twisted around your legs. In your haste, you knocked the lamp off of the nightstand, causing it to fall to the floor with a loud crash. Eventually, you managed to scramble out of bed and to race to the sliding bedroom door, pressing your back against the wall as you turned on the light. The overhead light on the ceiling instantly flooded the room, dispersing the shadows.

Your bedroom was empty. He wasn’t here. All you could see was your messy bed, the dark gray sheets half on the floor now, and your bedside lamp a broken mess beside them. 

You were alone.

At least, you were until a loud few knocks against your apartment sounded from down the hall. Head whipping over your shoulder, your eyes darted toward the bedroom door on your left and you froze. Your heart was slamming away so wildly in your chest that you almost missed that weird sensation along your skin before you heard his voice.

“Olivia?” Matt called out behind your apartment door. “It’s Matt. Your neighbor across the hall. I heard screaming and a crash. Are you okay in there?”

Your head tipped backwards against the wall behind you, your eyes drifting closed at his concerned voice.

It’s not him. He’s not here. 

Taking a few shuddering breaths, you attempted to calm down. He wasn’t here, but now your odd neighbor from across the hall was.

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Dress Up, Part 3: The Honeymoon✨

Who's ready for the honeymoon?? I've been dying to get this one out for y'all. Thank you all again for the incredible support on this fic, I absolutely love you all! Enjoy!!

I tried to make it as clear as possible who is speaking at any given time lol

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: The wedding is over and it's time for the honeymoon! And you have an interesting proposition for your new husband...

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, anal, multiple partners

As promised, Lucifer behaved himself for the rest of the reception. He was always very good at keeping his promises with you. Although, you had piqued his curiosity when you had mentioned the little "proposition" you had for him later in the evening. He was insatiable. And you loved it!

"C'mon love, at least give me a hint!" Lucifer begged while you were in between conversations with the hotel patrons. "Do you think it's fair to keep secrets from your husband?" He latched onto your waist and pressed a kiss to your cheek, a little laugh escaping your lips. "I'll just keep kissing you until you tell me!" Sure enough, he began to pepper small pecks across your face, finally forcing you to push him away gently.

"All good things to those who wait, Lucifer," you teased, taking his one hand and leading him towards the bar. "We just have to say goodbye to a few more people, okay? And you're one to talk! You still haven't told me where we're going for our honeymoon!"

He chuckled, bringing your hand up to his lips. "I'm the Devil, sweetheart; deception is in my job description, or so I've been told." You rolled your eyes playfully and made your way towards your new daughter-in-law.

"Charlie!" you greeted, bringing her into a warm embrace. "Thank you for this. You did an incredible job. This was everything I could have hoped for and more."

"Oh, there's no need to thank me!" Charlie beamed. "Everyone here worked super hard to make sure everything turned out perfect!"

"You're too modest, Charlie dear," Lucifer complimented. "Anything you touch turns out absolutely perfect. And I shouldn't expect anything less from my little girl!"

"Thanks, dad. I-I love you two so much!" Charlie's eyes started to well up with tears as she brought you both in for a hug. "Oh, dad! Did you tell her about the surprise?!"

Lucifer shook his head. "I haven't, but we're just about to head out right about...now!" With a snap of his fingers, a portal appeared behind the trio. You went to turn your head, but Lucifer used his hand to turn your face back towards him. "No peaking!" Without warning, you felt your legs give out beneath you as Lucifer scooped you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest and smiling down at you. “Thank you all for a wonderful day,” he called out to everyone. “It’s certainly one we’ll never forget. We’ll be back in a few days' time. PLEASE don’t burn the hotel down while we’re gone!” He turned around to face the portal and leaned down towards you. “Close your eyes for me,” he whispered against your ear. You did as he said and let your eyelids fall.

You felt the subtle jostling of Lucifer’s movement as he carried you through the portal. He only took a few more steps before he stopped completely. Wherever you were, you felt a slight breeze hit your skin. You guessed you must be outside somewhere. But Lucifer’s footsteps sounded like they were hitting tile flooring. Before you could try to rationalize further, you felt your husband’s lips graze your earlobe.

“You can open your eyes now,” he cooed.

Your eyes shot open; Lucifer’s grinning face was the first thing you saw as he finally set you back down on your feet. You were right about being outside. Kind of. You were on a balcony. The footsteps you heard earlier made sense now. But you saw something else that had completely caught your attention. The sky above you wasn't red. It was a deep blue. You turned to Lucifer in confusion. "Where are we?"

"Surprise!" he nearly shouted, gripping your hips and twirling you around before placing you back down. "Welcome to the Lust ring, my darling!"

You blinked at him a few times before looking back over the railing, smiling eagerly. "So, this is what you've been hiding from me?"

"It is," Lucifer said as he pulled you flush to his chest. "Do you remember how I said that you're no longer bound to the rules that govern sinners? This is part of that deal! You're free to travel anywhere as my Queen, and that includes the other six rings of Hell! Not that I would recommend most of them. But Asmodeus-"

"Wait, Asmodeus?" you questioned, "The Sin of Lust?"

"Yes! Although I usually just refer to him as Ozzie. He's one of the only Sins I get along with. But anyway, he's the one who put us up in this lovely room for the next few days. I told him I was getting married and well, he practically insisted on letting us use his Honeymoon Suite at the hotel he owns here. Told me I needed to 'put the room to good use'." Lucifer flashed a smug grin before leaning in to capture your lips. He picked you up once more and carried you over to the too- large heart-shaped bed, setting you down on the soft dark purple bed sheets. "So, my angel has a 'proposition' for me?"

Suddenly your cheeks felt burning hot. To be honest, you haven't given your own proposition much thought before this. But that week without any intimacy nearly drove you up the wall and your mind created scenarios that you had never even considered before. You regret mentioning it in the first place, but it was too late to turn back now. "W-Well, yes, I do...I mean, I did. I umm...it's..."

Lucifer laughed and sat himself down next to you, his hip connecting with yours. "Now what could possibly have you so tongue tied?" Lucifer teased as you looked away from him. "I've never seen you like this before. You don't have to be embarrassed, love! Whatever it is, I'm sure I can handle it! I don't think there's anything you can suggest that would scare me away." He brought his hand under your chin and turned your head towards his wanting expression. "Please tell me!"

You sighed shakily. "And you won't freak out?"

"Now when have I ever freaked out?" You cocked an eyebrow at him. "Ok, fair point. I promise you that I won't freak out."

You inhaled a few short breaths before speaking. "Youcanduplicateyourselfright?" you blurted out without thinking, making Lucifer pause.

"Duplicate myself?" he repeated, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uhh, yeah I can. But what does that have to do with...o-oh...OH! UMM...S-SHIT! WOW I uhh...wasn't expecting that..."

"Hey, you said you wouldn't freak out!"

Lucifer shook his head rapidly. "Freaking out?? Who's freaking out?! Not me! Certainly not me! I'm cool, I'm alright, I'm fine! It's just uhh...I..." He laughed nervously, failing to reign in his sudden panicked reaction. But for some reason, it seemed as though he couldn't stop smiling.

You reached down to cup his hands in yours. "Luci, listen, if that's not something you're wanting to try, that's totally alright! I'd never ask you to do something that would make you uncomfortable! That's why we talk about everything beforehand! Please don't worry about it." You smiled and cupped his face in your hands to press a light kiss on his lips.

"Now sweetheart, I never said "no", now did I?" you heard a familiar soothing voice echo behind you.

You turned your head slowly, only to see an identical Lucifer sitting next to you on the opposite side. You gulped and smiled warily. The other Lucifer grabbed your hand and kissed it delicately.

"You...you want this?" you turned to your Lucifer as the other continually kissed up your arm.

Lucifer beamed at you, taking your other hand. "More than you know! If I'm given the chance to provide you with as much pleasure as I possibly can, I will never turn down that opportunity! Besides, I do owe you from the reception, and I intend to pay it back tenfold."

You didn't think your face could get any more beet red. Your lips met with your Lucifer once more, his tongue gliding across your bottom lip, begging for entrance, to which you happily obliged. The other Lucifer found his way to your neck, now sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. You had barely begun, and your adrenaline had skyrocketed. You had to pull yourself away before you wouldn't be able to stop yourself.

"I...I'd like to clean up first, if that's alright," you chuckled. Your Lucifer grinned, with both of them standing up and offering you their hands.

"Shall we?" they spoke in unison.

Your face flushed as you took each of their hands, pulling yourself up from the bed. They led you to the illustrious bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. It was way too grand for just a couple. Well, at least you three would take up just a little more space. You stripped out of your reception dress quickly, your lovers following suit. The shower itself could have easily fit everyone on in the hotel inside, but the three of you planned to use the space to your advantage. Once the shower was heated to your liking, you stepped in tentatively, letting the hot water relax your body. You didn't realize how stiff you had been. Perhaps the cause were the two men that just stepped in the shower to join you. One stepped around behind you, the other in front. Perfectly sandwiched between two God-like figured. Her heart threatened to beat out of your chest as you felt two hands gently massage your shoulders while two more thumbed circles around your hips.

"It's alright, darling," your Lucifer spoke calmy from behind. "We'll go at the pace you're most comfortable with, yeah? If you need to stop at any point, say the word and we'll be done." You nodded your head, giving them the 'okay' to continue.

"Let's get you all nice and clean now, love," the other Lucifer cooed. He passed the bottle of shampoo to your Lucifer while he lathered his hands with soap. You felt a pair of hands massaging your scalp ever so gently as they thoroughly scrubbed your soft hair, detangling any knots that may have formed. Two more hands roamed your skin, gliding across every inch of it. Starting at your neck, moving across to your shoulders, down to your breasts. Your breath hitched and you giggled, noticing how long his hands lingered in the specific area. His hands finally moved down lower, to your stomach and your hips, only to reach around and give a few light squeezes to your ass. You knew he was going to be touchy, especially considering it's been an entire week since he's been able to feel you like this. And you weren't going to deny him.

You rinsed your hair, watching the other Lucifer lower himself onto his knees to wash your legs, starting at your calves and working his way up to your thighs. After a few seconds, you noticed his hands have not left your thighs; he continued to run his hands along them delicately but desperately, almost begging for something more. You looked down at him only to be met with pleading eyes. It suddenly clicked with you. Wordlessly, you spread your legs apart slightly, allowing him access to the one area of you that you knew he wanted. That he needed. You let out a few shaky breaths before you at last felt his digits glide along your folds. You didn't know how much you missed the feeling of his fingers until he began his ministrations, easily finding your sensitive nub in the process. You mewled as your Lucifer turned your head to capture your sounds on his lips. You felt the other Lucifer's fingers enter you slowly, causing you to moan into your Lucifer's mouth. He swallowed it happily. You felt him languidly thrust his fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them.

"Now this is heaven," your Lucifer whispered against your collarbone. "I can finally tell you how wonderful you taste on my tongue." Without warning, the Lucifer beneath you gripped your thighs and plugged his face into your aching pussy, your knees nearly buckling under its own weight. Luckily, Lucifer caught you and held you close to his chest as the hot water continued to loosen every muscle in your body.

"I gotcha," your husband murmured before nipping at your neck, leaving bruises and bite marks in his wake. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Both of their tongues worked on your trembling body, your mind couldn't decide which area to focus on. You felt Lucifer's tongue push past your folds, his forked tongue hitting the most sensitive area inside of you. All that managed to leave your throat were whimpers of pure, overwhelming pleasure.

"L-Luci...I-I...," you tried to speak, becoming more and more difficult with each passing second. "B-Bed..."

You felt both Lucifers smile against you, each of them pulling away to stand up straight. The water was turned off and they led you out of the shower. They took some towels, drying you off as best they could before your Luci scooped you up and carried you back over to the bed, laying you down gently.

"What do you desire, my queen?"

You grabbed your Lucifer's hand, directing him to sit behind you. You looked at the other and patted the sheets in between your thighs. "I'm sorry that I interrupted your meal, please continue." Eagerly, the one Lucifer jumped onto the bed and dove between your thighs once more, continuing his tender licks up your dripping slit without giving you a second to brace yourself. You cried out while your Lucifer sat you in his lap.

"Such beautiful sounds, my darling," your Lucifer praised. "I've never been able to hear them so clearly when I've done this before. I've been dying to taste you again; it's been so long." You tried your best to focus on what he was saying, but the pleasure between your legs had taken up every bit of your attention. You missed this more than you were willing to admit; to have your lover devouring you like it was his last meal. You felt his hands snake underneath your arms, beginning to squeeze and knead your breasts. You were seeing stars, your vision blurred as you could feel legs begin to tremble uncontrollably. The other Lucifer had to wrap his arms under your thighs to make sure you couldn't pull away from his devilish tongue that was now circling your clit relentlessly. You were on the verge of breaking. "I can tell you're close, sweetheart. It's okay, let go for me. Let me taste all of you." You felt two fingers enter you at that moment, forcing you to thrust your hips up in unbridled ecstasy. Once his fingers curled inside you, the coil in your stomach snapped.

"A-AAHH...HHNG...LUCIFER!" you cried out as your orgasm overwhelmed you, your walls pulsating around his fingers that had refused to slow down as you came. You rode out your orgasm, feeling Lucifer lap up every last drop of you before you had finally come down from your high. Your breaths were heavy, but your Lucifer captured your lips once more, inhaling every last one. Oddly enough, you could taste a faint hint of yourself on his lips, even though he wasn't the one between your legs.

"Tell me love, how much did you miss my tongue?" the Lucifer below you asked coyly as his thumbs ran soft circles around your inner thighs.

You rolled your eyes and smiled. "Enough to know that I'll never ask you to wait for me again."

He beamed at you, picking himself up from between your legs and leaning for a tender kiss, the other leaving more hickies along your neck. This was everything you could have imagined and more. But you weren't done yet. You needed more. You had felt Lucifer's hardened cock against your back the entire time you were sitting in his lap. It was time to give him his fill of you. And you were more than willing to let him claim every part of you.

"Luci?"

"Yes?" they answered.

"I want you to take me. All of me. Please..."

"D-Do you mean..." your Lucifer swallowed hard, the other completely red in the face.

"I do," you nodded shyly. "Is...Is that alright?"

With a snap of Lucifer's fingers, a third one appeared and stood next to the three of you at the edge of the bed.

"Anything for you, my angel," the third spoke softly, a nervous smile crept across his face.

Oh, you were so fucked! In both senses of the word. Your hands shot up to your face in a failing attempt to hide your embarrassment. You felt a pair of hands pull them away, now staring back at two pairs of lust-filled eyes.

"Are you absolutely sure, love?" Lucifer's voice echoed behind you. You could almost hear the shakiness in it. "Please don't feel as though you need to do this for me."

You managed to shift yourself so that you were now kneeling in front of your Lucifer, his head resting in the palms of your hands. "Yes, I want this. This isn't for you or for me, this is for both of us. I'm yours, my king." You brought your lips to his, entangling your tongues together in a fiery kiss. When you pulled away, Lucifer seemed to be caught in a trance, completely drunk on you.

"Let's get you ready," he grinned. With a swirl of his hand, a bottle of lube had appeared, tossing it to the Lucifer standing beside you. You noticed the writing on the label before he threw it away.

"Apple flavored?" you questioned.

"Let me ask you, did you taste yourself on me when you kissed me a minute ago?" Lucifer smirked a bit when he asked. Your face flushed a bit, but you nodded. "I thought as much. It was faint, but it was there, right? I didn't think you wanted the taste of normal lube when you uhh...umm, yeah...haha...It's hard to explain, but the short and simple of it is that all of our senses are connected. If one of us is touched, the others will feel the sensation of being touched as well. And I promise that the faintest hint of apples will be the only thing you can taste. A little fun fact about duplication for ya!"

You grinned as you and your Lucifer got up from the bed while the second assumed his position, lying flat on his back, his leaking cock resting on his abdomen. You wanted nothing more than to ride him senseless right now as you made your way back on all fours and hovered yourself over him, but you knew you would get to soon enough. You smiled down at him beneath you, he grinned and winked in response. The other two joined you in bed, with one kneeling behind you, the other in front. Your Lucifer's cock hung just inches from your face, almost begging for any kind of attention. You went to grab it, but his hand stopped yours. "Ah, ah, patience," he scolded lovingly, "I can wait. Let me concentrate on you, yeah?" As if on cue, you felt a cold finger teasing the entrance of your ass. In inhaled sharply, gripping the sheets below you from the sensation. You and Lucifer didn't use it often, but you always enjoyed it whenever you tried it.

"Ready?" you heard him ask behind you.

"Yes."

Slowly, he inserted his lubed finger into you, letting your muscles relax around him. After a few pumps, a second finger was inserted, thrusting in and stretching you out as much as he possibly could. He applied a generous about of lube as he spread his fingers apart inside you, opening you up and making sure you would be able to handle more in just a little bit. The less pain you felt, the better. When he felt as though you were thoroughly prepped, his digits retreated from your ass. He rubbed some more lube down the length of his shaft before positioning himself to enter you. At the same time, you felt the Lucifer below you shift, lining his cock up with your wet cunt. You inhaled deeply a few times, albeit a bit shakily.

"If you need to stop at any time, please don't hesitate to use our safe word," your Lucifer instructed. "Do you remember what it is?"

"Radio." you responded. Neither of you had to use it before, but this seemed like a scenario where it may need to come into play. The word still made you chuckle to yourself regardless.

"That's my girl," he cooed. "Tap my leg and I'll pull out if you need to use it. Slow and steady now..."

You felt your ass stretch first as he entered you lethargically, letting you stretch around his length. You felt the burning sensation for a moment or two, but it soon receded after he remained fully inside for little bit. Your pussy was next, sinking down as far as you could before Lucifer's hips bucked up to meet yours. With two cocks now fully sheathed inside of you, you gave them the 'okay' to start moving. The room was filled with nothing but moans when their hips started rutting into you, feeling absolutely and completely full. You looked up at your Lucifer with desperate eyes.

"Y-Your turn, Luci," you babbled, opening your mouth wide, your tongue falling to the wayside and drool beginning to drip down your chin.

"F-Fuck..." was all he managed to choke out before to tip of his cock was already past your lips. He did his best to match the pace with his other selves, not wanting to go too deep. And he was right; the faintest scent of apples filled your senses as his cock was pushed in and out of your hot throat.

This moment was pure bliss.

Your mouth, your ass, and your cunt all being filled and fucked senseless, somehow in the most tender and loving way imaginable. Lucifer had never been rough with you and he wasn't about to start now. All three cocks were hitting every single pleasure point in your body, it was almost overwhelming. But you didn't dare stop.

You felt a pair of Lucifer's claws dig into your ass as he fucked you from behind, another pair shooting up to grip your hips as he thrusted up into your aching cunt. The last pair of hand you felt playing with your hair as you used your tongue and mouth to drive him mad. But you felt something else not long after. Something had wrapped around your leg. His tail. You weren't sure which it belonged to but you were too fucked out of your mind at this point to care. You felt something else, something that could have made you scream were your mouth not full. Another one of his tails, but this one had gone straight for your clit, its movements increasing with every thrust. Your eyes crossed as your second orgasm hit you like a freight train, giving you no time to prepare. You moaned loudly around Lucifer’s cock as your pussy clenched around his other, your juices leaking out and trailing down your thighs.

“GAA-AHHH, O-OH FFFFUCK,” all of them gasped together. All of them had felt you cum on his cock. He was done for.

“M-My love…”

“Ssshhhhiiittt…I-I’m…”

“I-I can’t…can’t s-stop…”

“FUCK, C-CUMMING…I’M CUMMMING!”

All their movement had stopped as they came at the same time. You felt his hot seed spill out inside of every hole he filled. It took everything you had left in you to not collapse right then and there. Your Lucifer was the first to pull out, finally letting you properly catch your breath. You swallowed his cum without a second thought, licking your lips as you stared up at him innocently. He turned away from you quickly, his face feeling like it had caught fire. You felt two pairs of hands grab your waist, hoisting you up and off of them, and gently laying you down on your back. With a final snap of his fingers, the two Lucifers smiled at you one last time before disappearing, leaving you with just one. Lucifer, now completely spent, plopped down on the bed right next to you. You shuffled closer to him, snuggling against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and peppered kisses all along your face. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Are you okay, my queen?” he asked breathlessly. “I didn’t hurt you at all, did I? Was it too much? Were you-MMPH” you cut him off with a searing kiss to his lips. He melted into you, your lips languidly moving against each other. You pulled away, tears welling up in your eyes. Lucifer’s face fell instantly. “Oh, God, I hurt you, didn’t I?! Fuck, I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t mean to-”

“No, Lucifer!” you laughed, cutting his panic short. “I’m not hurt, you didn’t hurt me! I-I’m just…so happy…” you threw your arms around him and began to squeeze his body as hard as you could manage. “Thank you…”

His arms tightened around you as well, bringing you as close to him as physically possible. “No, my love, I should be thanking you. Not just for this. But for everything else.” He sat you both up, now leaning yourselves against the headboard. He left one arm draped over your shoulder as the other reached for your hand. “You’ve given me everything I could ever want, and more than I ever deserve. You’ve given me patience, understanding, kindness, stability, joy. I could go on forever about what you’ve done for me. But out of all of those, the one thing that you’ve given me that I know I could never go without, is your love. You’re mine, and I’m yours, until the end of time. I love you.”

You couldn’t stop your tears from falling. You smiled at him sweetly, wiping away the tears from your cheeks. “I love you too, Lucifer. But you’re wrong, you know.” The angel cocked an eyebrow at you. “You deserve everything and more. Never doubt that.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “You’ll always have me. Always.”

Tears fell from his eyes now, pecking your face with more kisses again. Suddenly, he scooped you up in his arms and hopped off the bed in an instant.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we, my beautiful wife?” he whispered to you as you made your way to the bathroom once more. “Hope you like bubble baths!”

“Of course I do, my darling husband.” He smiled and leaned down to press another kiss to your parted lips.

~~~

GOD, PLEASE, I CAN EXPLAIN 😫🙏🏻

Anywho, hope you liked part 3! Part 4 will be a sort of epilogue so stay tuned! Thank you everyone for your support 💖

@ask-theradio-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 @fluffypinkpillows @starlightdreaming @k-n0-x @rosen-und-mondlicht @raindropsfromheaven @slutforlucifermorningstar @lola576 @ag-cookiebat800 @victoriousvic @rand0m-1diot @lonelynmisunderstood @cosmic-lavender @yourmom132 @liveontelevision @luci-lover-forever

[barefoot-joker]

Dancing with the Devil and His Wife in the Pale Moonlight

Yandere! Lucifer Morningstar X Reader X Yandere! Lilith Morningstar

Hey, guys! Welcome to another Lucifer story, this time with his wife Lilith! An Anon had asked for a longer fanfiction, so I did my best to do that ask justice. I'm thinking of making a part 2 but let me know what you think. As always enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 5612

Warnings: Kidnapping, Non-Con Kissing, Swearing, Slight gore near the end, Slight Possessive Tendencies, Slight drug use at the end

I hummed as I stretched my legs on the bar in the dance studio. Today our class was rehearsing for the ballet Three Virgins and a Devil which was going to be performing at our local theater. We had been practicing for months now but today was special. Today some of our patrons who financially support our ballet company were coming to watch us. It was quite a surprise as nobody really knew who the mysterious couple was, so gossip amongst my fellow ballerinas was high. The talk continued even as we prepared our bodies for our demonstration. “I heard that our patrons are very wealthy and looking for somebody they can throw their money to.” 

“You mean they are looking for a third?”

“Possibly!”

“Well if they are looking for a third there’s no way any of you would get it,” Jessica the prima ballerina stated.

“Girls, please,” our director, Maria, clapped her hands, “let’s get to work.”

We formed our line and started to do some warm up exercises. After about ten minutes of warm up, we ran a couple of our numbers. Suddenly the door to the studio swung open to reveal a man and a woman. The man was on the shorter side and had paleish skin, blonde hair, red tinted cheeks and red eyes. The woman was tall and had long blonde hair, purple eyes and a paleish complexion. We all stopped to stare. Their skin tone and eyes really threw us off but maybe they wore contacts to intimidate people. Our director let a big grin form on her face as she ushered the couple in. “Ah, Mr and Mrs Morningstar! Welcome! Please come in.”

The couple stopped in the middle of the room and surveyed us. I bowed my head and fiddled with my shirt hem. Their gazes felt fiery and made me feel quite uncomfortable. “This is our Corps de Ballet. We were just practicing for our upcoming production when you both walked in. I’m sure you would be interested in seeing some material.”

“Absolutely! My wife and I would like to see what our money buys after all.”

“Of course, Mr Morningstar. Girls.”

We all got into our places and Maria pressed play on the CD player. We performed an ensemble piece and one with the three leads: Jessica, Savannah and Tessa. Our patrons just watched us with curious eyes and applauded when we were all done. “That was quite the show you ladies put on. I think my husband and I can agree our money is being well spent. However, we'd like to talk to you, Miss Maria, if we could.”

“Of course. We can go to my office. Girls, keep rehearsing. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

We all watched as the three of them left and as soon as the door shut gossip was at an all time high. “Oh my gosh, did you see the way they looked at Jessica? If they are looking for a third I’ll bet they’ll choose her!”

“No way! They were totally staring at me!”

“Girl, that’s not possible. If anything they were staring at your fumbled footwork at beat five.”

“Shut up! That’s not true!”

“What do you think, Y/n? Who were they staring at?”

All of the girls in my circle turned to me. I let out a huff. “I wasn’t paying attention. I was too focused on my steps.”

“At least one of us was,” Jessica stated.

We all turned to stare at her. “Like I said before, I’d be their first choice for a third.”

The smirk that played on her lips made me quite angry. Because she was the prima ballerina she always thought everyone was interested in her. While it may be true, her pride was too boastful. “Oh please. Stop lying to yourself. I saw where their gaze was during your performance. It was at the back.”

“Yeah right! All eyes are always on me.”

I rolled my eyes. God she was so annoying. 

“Ladies, you heard what Maria said. We need to practice. This discussion can continue later.”

“Alright, party pooper.”

We fell into our positions and began another ensemble routine. Jessica called out counts as we danced and about twenty minutes later Maria returned. “Good job today, girls. You deserve a break for the rest of the day. Jessica, Y/n, please stay behind. I’d like to talk to both of you.”

I looked at my friends in confusion. Why was I needed?

As my fellow dancers passed to get changed, Lily grabbed my shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Y/n.”

She quickly walked off with the others. I sighed and walked to the mirrors where Maria stood. Jessica side eyed me and then focused back on our instructor. “Good job today, both of you. The Morningstars were very taken aback by your performances. In fact, they’d like to get to know you both on a more personal level.”

I felt myself stop breathing and my eyes widen. They what?

“They’d like to take you both to dinner tomorrow night. A car will come and pick up both of you so no need to worry about rides.”

“Miss Maria, are you sure Y/n was an interested party? After all she’s just an ensemble member-”

“Yes, Jessica. They were quite. Interested. They said their car should be there around 6 pm to pick up our prima ballerina and 7 pm to pick up Y/n. Please dress nice, you are representing Carmilla Carmine’s Ballet Academy after all.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Yes, mistress.”

“You’re both excused.”

The two of us took our leave and as soon as the door closed behind us Jessica snarled at me. “Listen here and listen well. If you were a team player you’d refuse to come to this dinner tomorrow.”

“I’m just not showing up. You heard Miss Maria! The Morningstars were interested in both of us. How do you think that’ll reflect on our Academy if I just don’t show up?”

“Just don’t embarrass me tomorrow!”

She huffed and stormed off. I sighed and went into the locker room. I sat on one of the benches and traded out my pointe shoes for my regular tennis shoes. Throwing on my hoodie, I grabbed my backpack and headed out of the studio. The rest of my day went fairly well. My friends from work texted me asking if I was alright. I told them what had happened and they blew up my phone. They couldn’t believe an opportunity like this was being given to a backup dancer. I chuckled at their antics in my text messages and responded to them throughout the night.

The next day I had gotten up fairly early and ran some errands. When I got back to my apartment later I did some cleaning. I noticed it was getting closer to the time my date was so I finished and ran into my bedroom. I chose a nice long, flowy, favorite color dress and a pair of black flats. In my bathroom I added some light makeup to my face and attached a silver necklace to my body. After I was done I looked at my phone to see it was 7 pm. Grabbing my keys and a small purse, I locked my door and took the stairs to the lobby. I walked out to the street and saw a short man getting out of a black Mercedes-Benz. “Miss L/n?”

“Yep, that’s me.”

“Follow me please.”

He walked to the back of the car and opened the door. “Thanks.”

I slid in and he shut the door. He returned to the driver’s side and got in. Starting the car, we headed out. I looked around as the man drove. I had never been in such a fancy car before so this was truly a new experience. The interior was all black leather and the windows were tinted. Jessica sat next to me texting on her phone. I watched as the nightlife of my city passed by in amazement. It felt like a different ride. The car suddenly came to a halt and the driver got out. He opened the door for Jessica first and then he opened my side. I stared at the restaurant and nearly collapsed. We were parked in front of Melbourne’s, a very fancy and well known place. Rumor had it that the wait list was three months before somebody could get in. “Ah, Jessica, Y/n! So glad you could make it!”

I looked over to see the Morningstars approach us, each of them giving us a kiss on the cheek. The Misses wore a long, sparkly, purple dress while the Mr wore a white outfit with red accents. “You both look lovely. Come, our table is waiting for us.”

Mr Morningstar wrapped an arm around Jessica while Mrs Morningstar wrapped an arm around me. They led us inside to a table that was hidden by a wall and some red velvet curtains in the back of the restaurant. We all sat down and I gazed over the menu. My heart nearly stopped. The prices were way out of my range. Jesus. 

A waiter came over and introduced himself as Jeff before asking for the table’s drink choice. The three other occupants said some fancy wine or a fancy cocktail. When it got to me I just muttered, “Water, please.”

Jessica snorted and Mrs Morningstar looked at me. “Are you sure, Y/n? You can have anything you’d like.”

“I’m sorry I don’t drink. I honestly don't know where to begin.”

“I see. How about we start you off simple. She’ll take a brandy old fashioned.”

“All good choices. I’ll be back with those in a short bit.”

Jeff left and I felt extremely awkward. I mean I was trying my first alcoholic drink in front of practically strangers. What if I didn’t like it? I didn’t want to offend the Misses.

I picked up the menu to try and avoid small talk. Jessica and the Morningstars were discussing something and I was just trying to decide what least expensive item to get. “-ou, Y/n?”

I set the menu down and looked up. “What? Sorry.”

Mr Morningstar just smiled across the table at me. “It’s quite alright, dear. I asked what got you into ballet.”

“Oh, um, I don’t know. I guess I just find it relaxing and something to occupy my time with. I had started off as a child and just loved it ever since, Mr Morningstar.”

“Oh no need for formalities! We’re out of the studio. Please call us Luci and Lilith.”

The two smiled at us. While I felt out of place, their smiles sort of comforted me. It was almost like a parent soothing their child. “So why don’t you tell us about yourselves? We’re very interested to hear,” Lilith said.

I was about to say something when Jessica started. I just leaned back in my chair and watched other customers. There were many couples in the restaurant with a few groups scattered here and there. It was odd to see everybody dressed to the nines with their fanciest garb, but I suppose you have to live up to the dress code. “And what about you, Y/n? Anything you’d like to share,” Luci said. 

The entire table turned to look at me and I could feel my skin crawling with heat. I wasn’t used to this much attention on me. Even when I was younger my siblings had always gotten the most of mom’s time. “Well, I’m uh 25 and the oldest of three. Like I said before I love ballet and I moved out here to try and make a career of it.”

“Anything else? Do you have any hobbies,” Lilith asked this time.

“I guess I like the arts in general. I participate in some art classes here and there. I read when I get the chance. Walks in the park or just around town are nice too.”

“That sounds lovely. You seem like a very creative girl.”

I gave a small smile. Just then Jeff returned with a tray and set all of our drinks down in front of each of us and asked us for our dinner choice. I just went with a simple pasta dish. I looked down at my drink and swirled it with the small black straw it came with. I was entranced by how the mushed cherry swirled with the ice in the orange drink as Jessica chatted. Lifting the rocks glass, I took a sip and hummed. It was quite good, especially for my first alcoholic drink. Setting the glass down, I observed the people at my table. Lilith was engaged in a conversation with Jessica, however Luci’s eyes were set on me. I gulped and averted my gaze to my lap. I could hear him chuckle. The table went silent for a moment, so I took the opportunity to ask something. “So do you guys have any family around here?”

“We have a daughter. Her name is Charlie. She’s a bit older than the two of you, but she’s quite the spirited girl. She doesn’t live here, more down under,” Lilith replied.

“I see. So she lives in Australia then?”

The couple glanced at each other and smiled. “You could say that.”

“She actually runs a hotel, funny enough. It’s to rehabilitate people.”

“Oh wow. That sounds like a lot to take on. You must be very proud of her.”

Luci stepped in. “Oh yes. She’s our little duckling!”

I could feel a rigidness coming from my fellow dancer. Maybe she didn’t like kids?

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch. I admit I was nervous but that dissipated the more the night went on. We all shared stories and laughs between us and the food was really good. I had offered to pay my half but the Morningstars were quick to shut the idea down. “It’s our treat. After all, we wanted to get to know you,” Luci had said.

After the bill was paid, they led us out to the car. The couple leaned in and gave me a kiss on both cheeks and did the same for Jessica. As they pulled away, Lilith spoke. “Thank you for a lovely night, ladies. We hope you have a great rest of your night.”

“Thank you for inviting us. We really appreciate it,” I replied.

The driver opened the door for us and Jessica and I got in. As he started to drive away the Morningstars waved at us until we were out of view. “I think that went well.”

“No duh. They were all over us, especially me. You think I can take more money out of them?”

“Is that the only reason you went? Their company was a nice treat. Besides, don’t you have other people wrapped around your finger you can take advantage of?”

“Of course. Those are some of the perks of being the prima ballerina. I’m surprised you even had a good time with all that attention on you. You should just stick to the back.”

I frowned. I was not about to let her ruin the night. “Whatever. I had a good time regardless of how much attention was on me.”

I turned away from her and focused on the passing cityscape. Eventually we reached my apartment and when we did the driver opened the door. I got out hastily and thanked him. I walked into the lobby and went up the stairs to the third floor. Getting out my keys, I unlocked the door and slipped my shoes off. I shut the door and went into my bathroom. I rinsed off my makeup and took my necklace off before going into my bedroom. I got out of my dress and put on my pj’s, throwing the flowy garment into the laundry hamper. I sat on my bed and went through my notifications on my phone. I grunted in annoyance when I saw my ex-lover’s name pop up. I clicked open their text and rolled my eyes. Once again it was them proclaiming they made a mistake for leaving me and they wanted me back. I didn’t reply, just backed out of it to the hub. I texted my friends from work about the night and they all congratulated me. We talked for a few minutes before I decided to log off. Putting my phone on the charger on the nightstand, I got under the covers and attempted to fall asleep.

The next day I rose at around 8 am. We had rehearsal today at 9 am so I quickly got dressed in a gray tank top and black leggings. I slipped a navy hoodie over top, slipped on my tennis shoes, grabbed my backpack and was out the door. It took me about twenty minutes to walk the several blocks to the studio, but when I made it I greeted the receptionist. “Good morning, Ricardo!”

“Good morning, Y/n! How are you today?”

“Average, I guess. And you?”

“Fabulous. I’ve got my coffee so today should go smoothly.”

I chuckled. He always liked his caffeine. 

“I better head on up. I’ll see you later. Have a great day!”

“You too!”

I walked upstairs to the locker room where I placed my backpack and shoes in my locker. I slipped off my hoodie and then sat on one of the benches to put my pointe shoes on. When they were secure, I walked into the studio. I saw the girls hounding Jessica for information so I just went to my corner and stretched. As I was doing so, Maria came into the room. She looked around and when she noticed me, she came over. “Good morning, Y/n. I hope your dinner was enjoyable last night.”

“It was actually. The Morningstars are very nice people.”

“I’m glad. Was Jessica nice to you?”

“With them, yes. In the car, not so much.”

“I see. I’m sorry that happened.”

“It’s no big deal. I’m used to it.”

She smiled and patted me on the shoulder. “Well I’d better get to teaching. Shall we?”

“We shall.”

Maria clapped her hands and we fell into our rows. We did a few warm up exercises and as we were doing this, Ricardo came into the room holding a bouquet twice the size of my head and the phone. We stopped to ooh and ah. “Yes?”

“These just came for Y/n.”

“What,” I muttered.

Ricardo came over and handed me the plastic wrapped flowers. Upon closer inspection I saw my favorite flower mixed with roses. I could feel heat rising to my cheeks as I found a card amongst the petals. Pulling it out, the heat burned brighter. “What does it say, Y/n?”

“To our dearest Y/n, thank you for a wonderful night. Call us anytime. From the Morningstars. And then there’s a phone number.”

All my friends squealed in delight and Jessica stepped forward rudely. “Was there anything for me, Ricardo?”

“I’m afraid not. I’ll keep checking. Oh also there’s someone on hold for you, Y/n.”

He handed me the phone and I looked at Maria. She gestured for me to answer it. “Hello?”

“Good morning, Y/n!”

“Who is this?”

“Ah, how rude of me! It’s Luci.”

“Mr Morningstar?”

At the mention of the name, Jessica glared at me. I gulped.

“What have I told you about formalities, darling?”

“Sorry, bad habit. What can I do for you?”

“The wife and I were wondering if you’d like to go dancing tonight.”

“T-tonight? But we just saw each other-” “Lilith and I have taken quite a liking to you, my dear. You’re such a sweetheart and we’d like to be with you again. You just radiate a beautiful energy. What do you say?”

“Oh, um, uh…I guess. Sure.”

“Great! We’ll pick you up at 7 o clock! See you then, dear!”

“See you then.”

I pulled the phone away and ended the call. Lily spoke first. “Well?”

“I guess I have another date tonight with the Morningstars.”

The girls erupted into screams of joy and surrounded me in a hug except for the prima ballerina. She gave me a heated glare, stomped her foot and stormed off. I gave the bouquet and phone back to Ricardo. “Could you put them in my locker please?”

“Of course!”

“Thanks, Ricardo.”

“Don’t mention it.”

He left the room and Maria tried to calm everybody down. “Girls. Girls! GIRLS!”

They stopped and stared at our instructor. “Let’s get to work. We don’t have much time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” we all responded.

The rest of the morning and afternoon was spent practicing. Around 3 pm, Maria let us go. When I went into the locker room, I stopped abruptly. All over the floor near my locker were flower petals and the destroyed bouquet. My hoodie lay on the bench as well as my backpack. I went over and picked both up only for my things to fall from the bag and my sweatshirt to have tears in the material. I looked at the bottom of my bag to see a large hole had been cut. Both were beyond repair. I sighed and threw both items in the trash. I had a feeling it was Jessica. I just couldn’t believe she was that angry at me when it wasn’t my fault the Morningstars called on me. Grabbing my stuff, I put it on a bench and then went to grab the broom and dustpan. Retrieving both from the supply closet, I returned to the locker room and cleaned up the flower petals and tore up card from the carpeted floor. I threw that and the plastic wrapped stems in the trash before returning the cleaning supplies to the closet. I walked back to the locker room, grabbed my stuff and made my way home.

When I got home I had taken a small nap and then got ready for the night. I chose a dark blue floral blouse, black pants, black boots and a denim jacket. Grabbing my keys, phone and purse, I headed down to the main street. The same Mercedes-Benz sat in front of my building and out stepped Luci from the car. “Over here, Y/n!”

I walked over and slid in, only to realize when he got in that I squished between the husband and wife. Oh boy.

“Derek, you may go.”

The car drove off. It was silent for a minute and I bit my lip when both Luci and Lilth’s hands came to rest on either one of my legs. “So my darling, did you enjoy our flowers? Lilith and I combined our efforts to come up with it.”

“Uh, I did. Before they got destroyed.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had them put in my locker and when I got back from practice my hoodie, backpack and flowers were lying on the ground ruined.”

My eyes widened when I thought I saw horns come out of Luci’s head and his eyes go from red to white. I blinked and they were back to normal. “And who do you think did it?”

“Well…I can’t say.”

Lilith put a finger under my chin and made me face her. She brought her head so close our lips almost touched. “Love, you can tell us anything. We’re here for you. Was it that pesky Jessica? I knew we should have sent flowers so she didn’t feel left out but Luci was very determined not to.”

“She was soooo boring! All she did was talk about herself. At least our little apple was nice and polite.”

I felt him trace a pattern on my thigh but I couldn’t see as I was stuck staring at Lilith. “Luci…”

“It’s true! You can’t deny that, honey.”

“Alright, yes. She was a bore. But maybe our lovely’s bouquet would still be intact.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one.”

“Anyway, was it Jessica?”

I could feel their eyes bore into me and I felt compelled to nod. They glanced at each other and then back to me. “Don’t worry love, we’ll get you as many flowers as you’d like.”

“Yes, but let’s focus on tonight. We’re going to dance the night away!”

My body tensed slightly when Luci put his head on my shoulder and I could feel his breath on my neck. “I-is hot in here or is it just me?”

They both chuckled rather loudly. “Oh dear. I think our little apple is heating up, Lilith.”

“Yes I think so, Luci. Perhaps we should aid her?”

“Yes. Yes we should.”

I gasped when I felt Mr Morningstar start to suck on my neck. I tried to pull away but Mrs Morningstar brought me into a kiss. My eyes widened and I attempted to hit either of them, but each of them had grabbed one hand and held it. I squirmed as they took their sweet time kissing me and just as I brought my legs up to kick them the car stopped. They pulled away with giant grins on their faces. The door opened and I clawed my way over top of Luci to get out. I figured he left a hickey so I did my best to raise my jacket collar to hide it. Just as I finished, I felt an arm wrap around my waist and the other around my shoulders. “Shall we go in, my love?”

I nodded and the two scooted me inside the club. It was very loud when we entered, the music making the walls and floor shake. The three of us sat in a private booth and Lilith went to go get us some drinks. I tried to put past how they had both kissed me, but I just couldn’t for the life of me. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to like it or not. Sure they were nice people but something about them unsettled me. “Whatcha thinking about, my dear?”

I looked up at Luci, his brow furrowed. “Huh? Oh nothing.”

“I don’t think it’s nothing. You’re very quiet.”

“I guess…nevermind.”

“Come on, you can tell me. You can tell us anything.”

His hand reached across the table and it laid on my knee. It reminded me too much of their kiss so I slid it off. He seemed very surprised by my retaliation. I looked at the hardwood floor as I spoke. “I guess I wasn’t expecting you guys to kiss me. I thought we weren’t quite there yet.”

“Oh, is that what’s got you bothered? I’m sorry. My wife and I are very forward when it comes to love.”

“Love?”

“Yes, you heard me.”

“What are you two talking about?”

Lilith had returned with three drinks. She set them on the table and sat by her husband. “Y/n doesn’t think we love her.”

“It’s not that, I just think it’s too early. I mean we met yesterday for crying out loud.”

“Aw, but you’re so fascinating, my love! How could we not fall in love with you!”

“Look, I’m not ready to take it to the next step-”

“You will in due time, little apple. It’ll just take some getting used to.”

I felt like I wasn’t being heard and I just needed a minute to breathe. “I, I need to go to the bathroom.”

I abruptly stood and speed walked to the nearest restroom. Just as I was about to enter, I bumped into somebody. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

“No please, it was me-Y/n?”

I looked up and felt my heart stop. Oh great, my ex. Just what I needed. “Hey.”

“Hey…how have you been?”

“Um, good I guess. Look, I was just heading to the bathroom-”

“Well now that I got you here we might as well talk.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Y/n, I know we got off on the wrong foot-”

“You left because you found someone else. That’s that. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

They grabbed me by the shoulders and I stiffened. “You always do this when I try to talk to you. You shut me down. I just want you to fucking listen.”

Their grip tightened and I wished I was more at the table with the Morningstars then here. “Let go!”

I shoved my ex away and ran out the front door. I took a sharp turn and leaned against the alley wall. I leaned my head against the brick and let out a sigh. I heard rushing footsteps and I internally groaned when I saw Ex-Partner’s Name round the corner. “There you are! What part of I want to talk to you do you not fucking understand?!”

“The message is clear, but I just don’t want to talk. When you left me, that finished the matter.”

“But I want you back! I made a mistake alright, but I realize that now! Come on, what do you say?”

“I’ve said no and I’ll say it again. NO!”

They growled and I saw a glint in the moonlight. My eyes widened when I realized it was a switchblade. They rushed at me and I quickly closed my eyes and curled inwards, waiting for pain. It never came. I opened my eyes to see Luci with completely red eyes and long red horns sticking out of his forehead. A floating apple and a golden snake wrapped around the top of his horns and a fireball hovered above his head. Lilith was beside him, her eyes completely white and reddish purple curled horns stuck out of her head. He grabbed my ex by the wrist, twisting the knife out of their hand. They screamed in pain and I gasped seeing the bone stick out. Oh my God…

I stepped back as Luci twisted harder and more bone came poking out of the skin. “Don’t even think about going near her! YOU UNDERSTAND ME, YOU LITTLE BITCH!”

I watched in horror as the knife levitated towards Lilith and she stabbed my ex in the shoulder. They howled and she brought the knife up and stabbed again. Their nails grew into claws and they started to dig into my assailant’s skin, blood rushing down from their wounds. I backed away and then sprinted out of there. My ex’s screams rang in my head as I continued to run. What the fuck? What the fuck?!

I suddenly slammed into a chest and shrieked when arms wrapped around me. I realized it was Luci, his eyes now white with a red background. Six red and white wings stuck out of his back and they slightly curled around us as I beat on his chest. “Let me go! LET ME GO!”

He nuzzled into my hair and I kept flailing around. Lilith magically appeared beside him, my ex’s body dragging on the ground behind her. “Shh. You’re safe now, little apple. We’ve got you.”

“Get the fuck away from me! Get! Away!”

“Lucifer, don’t hold her too tight now. We don’t want bruises on her precious skin.”

In my struggle I slowed. Lucifer Morningstar. Lilith Morningstar. Horns. Wings. Wait a minute…

“Are you the Devil and his wife,” I asked timidly.

The two looked at each and sighed. “I guess the duck is out of the bag, Lilith.”

They turned to look at me and I shrunk in his tight hold. “Yes, we’re the Devil and his wife.”

It all made sense now. The red and purple eyes. The pale complexion. The reason they were such mysterious patrons. Their daughter being down under.

I shoved Lucifer and he let go for a second before his bloody claws grasped hard on my arms. His talons dug into my skin as I struggled. “Let me go, please! I, I won’t tell anyone what happened here! We can just go about our lives! Just, just let me go!”

By now tears had started escaping my eyes and I quickly kicked Lucifer in the balls. His claws slid down and caused four gashes to appear on my forearm. He let out a groan and I turned to flee, only for him to fly in front of me. “Y/n! Stop!”

They cornered me to the wall and the brick dug harshly at my back. “Everything’s alright, my love. You’re alright.”

Lilith brought her hand up and I slapped it away. My chest was heaving to try and gain air into the lungs, but I couldn’t get any in. I mean how are you supposed to react when you find out that the patrons of your ballet academy who are in love with you are the Devil and his wife?

“Y/n, dear, breathe. Breathe.”

“I, I can’t! I c-can’t!”

I just broke down. I slid down the brick and wrapped my arms around my knees. I began to hyperventilate as tears rushed down my cheeks. I heard Lucifer and Lilith say something to each other but I couldn’t make it out. As I cried I felt something gently hit my head and arms. I looked up to see golden dust raining down upon me. I looked up even further to see it coming from Luci’s fingertips, a gentle smile on both his and Lilith’s faces. Suddenly I felt very tired and calm, too calm. I could feel my muscles go slack and my body limp as Lucifer picked me up bridal style. “Just close your eyes, lovely. We’ll be home before you know it.”

“H-home? W-whose home?”

They both looked at me and smiled brightly. My eyes closed and my breathing steadied.

“Ours.”

[matchpointfaist]

you tell me the sun is shining in paradise // if i believe you

apollo! art x devotee reader

tw for religion, mentions of sacrifice but not like death, smut, lowkey manipulative art a little? kinda got freaky sorry <3

you’d never been religious- too many mornings forced to behave in a church pew had steered you clear of the organization of it all. but sometimes, late at night, when you were at your lowest, you just needed someone. someone beyond this, someone to make it all worthwhile, to bring it all to reason. the folklore and mythology course you took your freshman year of college was the first time it occurred to you; it didn’t have to be a singular god, it could be an entire institution, an entire universe of higher beings, webs weaved by hands you’d never touch. that’s where it started, the journey that led you to him.

you’d had a bad few months- a bad year, truthfully- and you were isolated, at a university thousands of miles from home, with no real friends to turn to. your only real solace became the courtyard outside of your dormitory building, the small patch of grass where the sun shined despite the near constant cover of clouds. the warmth of the sunbeams on your skin became a safe haven, the sanctity of your little spot untouched by any outside factors. there, you could be anyone you wanted. you could be silent, you could cry, get angry, anything you needed. the prayers started three weeks into your sophomore year. a bad year had led to an even worse new semester, with your grades falling and your attention slipping. you lived your life through intricate fantasies, daydreaming of a life far away from your own. you’d make your way to the small courtyard, away from any prying eyes, and lay out a small blanket, decorating it with tarot cards you’d learned to read back home, and small offerings you’d researched in the campus library.

athena was first. who better to cure your failing grades? but there was no connection, no comfort, just the cold isolation of praying to a god who would never extend their hand. then aphrodite; if you couldn’t be great, you could at least be loved, desired. she, too, was fruitless. days turned to weeks, and you felt as if you’d reached anywhere you could, turned every page. but then, apollo. where better to find your patron than in the haze of the sun, his very own sigil? you laid out your altar- the sun tarot card you’d always felt a special connection to, scribbled out sheet music for your favorite song, pages torn from your favorite novel. the connection was immediate, all consuming, a fire burning within you. it felt as if you’d been asleep your entire life until this moment. he’d settled, curled inside your chest, made a home that you never knew to miss.

you started to see him everywhere. in the trees as they blew in the summer breeze, in the plants that bloomed facing the sky, in the philosophy your professor preached every tuesday afternoon. he was your lifeline, running through your veins, as much apart of you as your earthly family. worship came easy to someone like apollo, the fairest god of them all, the welcomer of the lonely. he flew his carriage to the sun, and delivered you from darkness, one afternoon at a time.

next came the blonde headed boy on campus. he was warmth incarnate, bright hair and brighter eyes, sunkissed skin and a freckled nose, tall and clumsy, like he hadn’t yet learned to operate this body properly. you saw him between classes, eyeing you from across the courtyard, always close enough to see but never enough to touch. in any other situation, you’d have been afraid, unnerved. but his presence brought you peace, enveloped you with a sense of belonging that could only be found when you were placed at the center of someone’s routine, a stop in their walk through the day.

you finally gathered the courage too approach one particularly warm afternoon, your typical anxiety seeming to fade away the closer you got to him, to knowing him. “hi,” it was simple, a start, and you extended a hand for him to shake, hoping it didn’t look foolish, “i’ve seen you around,” his hand on yours was enough to take the breath from your lungs, setting your skin alight, waking you up all over again, “i’ve seen you, too. i’m art,” you wanted to tell him it was ironic that someone so beautiful, so awe inspiring, would be named art, for that was what he appeared to be. “are you new here?” you asked, meeting his eyes, taking note of the broken color in one iris, the blue making way for a golden brown. “yes,” he nodded, a small smile on his lips, like he knew a secret, “very new. and you?” “no, i’m on my second year,” you returned the smile-it felt like the only natural response, “well it was nice to meet you, art. hopefully i’ll see you around?” “yes, i hope so,”

you continued to visit the courtyard, continued to think of apollo, but each day, you felt your thoughts sneaking back to art. with each picture in your mind of your patron god, art’s face came to the forefront of your mind, his coy smile and radiating eyes, the warmth of his hand in yours. a form of guilt had started to make a home inside of you with each thought of him, and soon your prayer requests turned to apologies. how could you lose sight of apollo, of all he’d done for you, over some boy? some boy you hardly knew, especially. “do forgive me,” you blinked up at the sky, cheeks warm, “you have extended a kindness to me that i have not forgotten, i will not lose sight of it,”

when you opened your eyes again, art was standing over you, the sun rays casting a halo around his glowing hair. “forgive you for what?” he asked, his voice ringing with familiarity. “oh!” you startled, placing a hand on your chest, “i’m sorry, that wasn’t meant for you, i should go,” you gathered your things quickly, but failed to locate your beloved sun card, looking around frantically. it was placed between his fingers, his thumb tracing over the man and the sun almost lovingly, a sort of longing in his pale eyes. “not unto everyone doth apollo appear,” his voice was soft, quiet, “but unto him, that is good,” “what?” your breath hitched, “what did you say?” when you reached for him, he was gone, the card in his hands gone with him. next to you, on the blanket, lie a new card in it’s place. the lovers.

you didn’t see him for days. you struggled, attempting to grasp what you’d seen, coming up empty each time. surely this boy, this man that had stood just in front of you, real as anything, was not apollo. and if he was, by some miracle, what would he want with you? deities did not come down to earth for nothing, you knew. and you, in the grand scheme of things, were nothing. you were just another lost soul, searching for some sort of anchor, some fabric of the universe to tether yourself to. you’d start to lose hope, contemplated throwing away everything you’d collected for your altar, starting anew and leaving this chapter behind. he gave you space and time, waiting until your last moment of desperation to appear to you again.

“you called for me,” his voice startled you from your daydreaming, standing right in front of you, alone in your dorm. “what?” your brows knit, “i didn’t- i barely know you,” “you know me,” his hand rested on your cheek then, warm and painfully cool all at once, “don’t you remember? i heard your prayers, heard you beckoning for my return. i was made of the god of light, i first tasted of him love and sweetness. my hands will keep the gold they took of him.” goosebumps raise on your arms when he quotes your words back to you, the false solitude crumbling around you. “you were there?” the words come out weak, vulnerable. “my darling, i am everywhere,” he practically hums, running a thumb over your jaw, “i am in the trees, in the wind as it carries fallen pedals onto your lap, in the sunshine as it kisses freckles onto your face. don’t you recognize me? i am here,” his hand comes to tap against your chest, over the beat of your heart, “i am flowing through your veins. from the moment you prayed to me, i have been one with you, carrying you through this life,”

“oh,” your eyes fall closed, skin tingling with pleasure at the simplest touch, his hand ghosting over your throat, down to the crook of your shoulder. “you’ve dedicated yourself to me,” he sounds so sure, so certain, “did you mean it? that you’d do anything for me?” “yes,” you don’t have to think twice before you nod; you’ve never meant anything more. “good,” you can practically hear the smile in his voice, “i’m sure your mythology courses have taught you the way things go. god’s don’t come to earth, not just for a simple prayer. but you? you were worth descending for,” you look up at him with baited breath, “but why me?” “i’ve grown fond of you, in the way that you speak, the way you pledge yourself to me, the way you ask for help but never demand. i had to meet you, had to be with you,” his eyes fall to the various worship objects littering your room, the melted candles and dusty tarot cards, the sketch you’d done of him days after seeing him for the first time. “so devoted,” he murmured, “my most cherished subject,”

in the back of his mind, he knew this was wrong. gods didn’t take human lovers, didn’t indulge in the forbidden fruit, didn’t take what was so easily disposable to them. but he’d grown a soft spot for you, abandoned all of his virtue and taken this earthly form, for nothing more than a chance at this very moment, at your bleary, impressionable eyes staring up at him like you were waiting on a sign. “i’ll give you something to believe in,” he murmured, leaning down so his lips were inches from yours, “if you’ll let me,” “i believe in you,” your voice was painfully sweet, chilling him to the bone, your hand coming to take his. his breath hitched as you led his hand to your chest, placing it just over your heart, “you have given it a reason to beat,” you said it like a secret, like a sin, “i’ll be yours, in whatever way you want me to be,”

he stood, fully, ready to flee. this was too much, even for him, to take a girl so empty, so broken, to turn her into something new. but then you were pulling at his jeans, eyes sparkling, sinking to your knees on the plush carpet at the foot of your bed. “oh,” his hand came to your hair, watching as your trembling hands stripped him, your lips parting as you glanced up at him. “i have prayed for this,” his mind fleeted back to your prayers, the part of his brain devoted to memorizing them, and came up empty. you hadn’t prayed to him for this, surely, he’d recall. “you did not,” his voice was hoarse, “i would have heard you,” “not to you,” you pressed a kiss to his thigh, startling him, “to aphrodite. i prayed she would make me beautiful enough for you to take me. i guess she finally listened to something,” and then your mouth was on him, wet and warm, staggering his confidence as he watched his cock slide between your lips.

you were nothing if not meticulous, your tongue running along his veins, eliciting sounds from him that he couldn’t recall ever making. your eyes never left his face, watching his every reaction, even as you took him down your throat, even as tears beaded your vision. he was entranced, awestruck, holding your hair like a vise as you laved at his cock, greedy and effervescent. “stop,” he had to force the word out, already taut with pleasure, his skin hot and flushed, “let me touch you, darling,” you hesitated, like you didn’t want this to stop, until he gently pulled you back, exhaling roughly as he watched you wipe your lips as he helped you back onto your bed.

your clothes were gone in an instant, his hands working quickly to rid you of them, desperate to admire you fully. “beautiful creature,” he murmured, trailing his fingers over your curves, “divine,” he laid you back, your hair splaying out around you in a curtain as he kissed down your neck, hovering over your chest for a moment before taking one of your nipples into his mouth just enough to have you mewling, your back arching. one hand came to the other, rolling it between his fingers, pulling louder, more breathless sounds from you. his free hand slipped between your thighs, breath hitching when he found you slick and hot, moaning incessantly when he ghosted his fingertips over your clit. your legs fell open, eager for more, your hips bucking slightly into his hand.

he backed down the length of your bed, nestling between your thighs, watching you through blonde lashes as he buried his face in your cunt, lapping at you hungrily. “oh!” you gasped, hands flying to his hair, holding it tightly, “art- apollo, oh my god,” he grinned against you, sucking at your clit as he eased a finger inside of you, nearly moaning as you took him in greedily. he added another when you relaxed, curling them experimentally, satisfied when you cried out, your thighs squeezing around his shoulders. “gonna-“ you cut off with a moan, clenching around his fingers, his tongue never slowing as he worked you through it. he laved at you, grinding against the mattress as his desperation grew, slowly withdrawing his fingers and gazing up at you as he sucked them clean.

your cheeks glowed, eyes shiny and half lidded as he crawled back up to you, sitting on his knees between your still parted legs. “gorgeous,” he hummed, leaning down to kiss you, hard and heavy. your arms wrapped around him, holding him tight as you kissed him back, whimpering into his mouth when his fingers teased your clit again. “take me,” you whispered, resting your forehead on his, chest heaving, “please, i’m yours,” his eyes nearly rolled back at the sound of your begging, and he nodded, kissing your jawline, “mine,” he murmured, one hand going down to rub his cock against you, biting back a moan at the wetness he found there, “so ready for me, angel,”

“please,” your eyes fell closed, your lips parted, “oh, art,” he eased into you, slow and steady, trembling with self restraint as he let you adjust, feeling you fluttering around him, “so desperate for me,” he grit out, slowly pulling out before thrusting into you again, watching your reactions closely, like he needed to memorize them. you were a mess beneath him, panting and moaning, writing when his pace quickened. “art, so good,” you mewled, eyes rolled back. “apollo,” his voice was hoarse and rough, “call me by the name you pray to. watch me while i undo you,”

you were obedient as ever, your eyes opening enough for him to watch your pupils dilate, “apollo, my god, thank you,” you looked close to tears from pleasure, “thank you, thank you,” “good,” he could feel the pressure building, impossibly close to the brink, “tell me you’re mine, pledge yourself to me,” he was making a horrible mistake, taking advantage of you, but he didn’t care, couldn’t care when you were sprawled out like this, moaning like a slut, all for him. “i’m yours,” you nodded, quick and eager, “all yours, apollo, my life is yours,” “oh, darling,” he groaned, twitching inside of you. you pulled him back into a kiss, and he lost it, coming inside of you with a shudder and a flurry of muffled moans.

he slowed down before stilling, pulling out of you slowly, sitting back just enough to watch the mess spill out of you, his eyes rolling back. god, he could be condemned for this. “was i good?” your voice pulled him from his thoughts, soft and vulnerable. “oh, of course,” he nodded, laying beside you, pulling you close, “you were perfect, darling. a goddess divine,” he pressed kisses to your cheeks and against your hair, breathing you in, savoring the moment he was sure could never last. “thank you,” you murmured, leaning into his chest, “i love you,” he knew it wasn’t true- you loved the image of him, the deity, the physical form he’d taken to come here to you. but then he remembered all the days you’d cried to him, alone and helpless, begging him to bring you some form of happiness. he’d indulge you, for now. “i love you too,” he mumbled, “get some rest, darling,”

he stayed until you were fast asleep, trying his hardest not to think too long on the things he’d suffer when he returned to the sky. he’d take it, for you, take the scrutiny, take the pain. maybe he’d be stripped of his title, be sent to earth in this form forever. then, he thought distantly, he could be with you, no consequences.

[forever-rogue]

Hiiii beeeee

Saw you wanted some inspo, so from the sunshine prompts:  i knew there was a big softie under all that tough exterior.   ❜ with the sunshine being r and a grumpy Joel who’s very soft for her🥺✨

AN | Okay but this! Sunshine!Reader and Joel are two of my faves💕

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“If you keep scowling like that, it’s going to be permanent,” Joel shifted his gaze to you as you sat down across the table from him. He let out a small huff as you beamed at him, “oh wait - your face always looks like that. Pity, you’d be so handsome if you smiled.”

“Sunshine,” you could see that he was fighting back a smile as the corners of his mouth twitched up, “what’re you on about, coming in here like that, huh?”

You set your elbows on the tables and tented your fingers, resting your chin on them. Narrowing your eyes, you watched him closely for a moment before leaning towards him, “I’ve decided that you’re still handsome.”

He couldn’t hold back his laugh this time around as you sat back and crossed your arms over your chest in satisfaction, “happiness looks good on you, Joel Miller.”

“Well, sweetheart, how can I not be happy when I’ve got you buzzing around all the time?” he took a sip from his beer, long and slow as your entire face warmed up; he always had a way of making you shut right up, “you’re like a little bumblebee.”

“Ahh, I knew there was a softie under that tough old exterior,” you bounced right back and grabbed the bottle gently from his grasp and tipped some of the amber liquid into your mouth, “I’d almost wager that you like me.”

“That might be pushing it,” he threw his arm over the back of the booth, looking around the bustling cantina. He liked it here, liked this, liked you; it almost felt like life was normal. He supposed this was normal now…and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. You finished off the bottle and pushed it to the side, drumming your fingers along the sticky tabletop. You hadn’t thought about exactly where this conversation was going - you’d just seen Joel and gotten excited at the prospect of seeing and bounced right on over, “you wanna get out of here?”

“Sure?” your voice was high and nervous and you sounded less sure than you’d intended on, “yeah - yes. What’d you have in mind?”

“C’mon,” Joel stood up and shrugged on his jacket, motioning for you to follow him. You wasted no time in following, not immune from the titters and stares from the other patrons. Jackson was big, all things considered, but people still had nothing better to do than gossip, “ignore them. They’ll talk either way. S’long as you don’t mind that is…”

“I don’t care,” you promised, falling into step with him and trekking into the cool evening air. The chill was more than you’d expected and a shiver ran down your spine immediately. You hadn’t said anything and decided to try and not let him see how cold you were so he wouldn’t suggest just going home. But Joel caught onto you immediately and took his catch off and draped it around your shoulders before you could protest. Butterflies fluttered your tummy at the kind gesture, “thank you.”

“Can’t have you freezing on me,” he said gruffly but you knew exactly how he meant it. 

“Much obliged,” you teased, “where is it that you’re taking me? This is how I’m going to get murdered? 

“You think I’d really make that obvious if I was going to take you out to get murdered?” he tutted in amusement as you followed him through the quiet and deserted streets of Jackson, “c’mon, at least fifty people saw us. It’d be like I was wanting to get caught.”

“I dunno, I’m not a murderer I wouldn’t know what I’d do,” you grinned as you tucked your hands into the pockets of his jackets, his smell all around you, warm and comforting, “but thank you for the reassurance. Besides, we both know you’d miss me if I was gone.”

He slowed for a moment and you could feel his arm brushing against yours as he looked at you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, knowing you’d probably just be left such a bumbling mess, “yeah. I would miss you.”

You made a small sound of content before nudging his arm right back, “I’d miss you too.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as he continued to lead you towards the outskirts of the Jackson. After walking a few more minutes you eventually made it up a small hill where the trees were cleared and you had a clear view of the starry night sky. You looked up in awe; you hadn’t bothered to look up in so long, that you hadn’t even realized just how beautiful the sky was. 

“Wow,” there was a giant smile on your face, and while you were always beautiful, Joel couldn’t help but think there was something even more magical than normal about you tonight, “it’s beautiful out here. The sky - it’s all so clear.”

“I found this spot a while ago,” he admitted as he took a seat on the ground and patted the space next to him, “it seems so obvious but it’s just out of the way enough that people don’t come here often. I like to come here to think sometimes.”

“Well thank you for sharing it with me,” you sat down next to him, keeping a small distance between your bodies with your knees just touching, “consider me honored.”

“Hmm,” the two of you sat in silence for a while; with anyone else you would have considered it awkward but with him it was just so…comfortable. That’s one of the many things that you liked about Joel - everything felt so easy with him, “you think awfully loud for someone so quiet.”

“I’m not…shut up,” you groaned without malice, hiding your face in your hands, “you are too perceptive sometimes, Joel Miller.”

“That’s just what I do,” he enjoyed getting you all flustered and caught off guard. People were usually much more honest that way, “you want to tell me what you’re thinking about?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted softly after a few moments. 

“Don’t know what you’re thinking about or if you want to tell me?”

“I don’t know if I want to tell you,” you shifted slightly so you were facing him, allowing yourself a single peek at those pretty brown eyes of his. You found nothing but gentle curiosity peering back at you, “‘cause I’m scared that you won’t like what it is.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, sunshine,” he promised and you were almost positive that he was being honest, “I don't think even if you confessed that you were secretly a murderer I’d adore you any less.” 

Adore you. That made you feel so warm and fuzzy that your brain almost combusted. You opened and closed your mouth a few times while trying to decide exactly what to say and how to say it. 

“I, umm…I was just thinking about how much I like you…spending time with you,” you managed to choke out after a couple moments of quiet contemplation. You felt like a teenager with an awkward crush right then, rather than a grown woman. Joel’s mouth ticked up in a small smile as your face felt like it was on fire, “this is nice. And um, I guess I’m saying that I…like you…like you.”

“Mhmm,” he was loving this, and you could tell. At least he wasn’t yelling at you and didn’t seem disgusted, “so what you’re saying is that you have a crush on me?”

“I-I…it’s not a crush,” you squeaked out, which only caused him to laugh, “ugh, you’re so insufferable Joel Miller.”

“Yeah, but you like me,” he grinned as you rolled your eyes, “c’mon sunshine, it’s fine to admit. It’s all out in the open.”

“Well, my feelings are out in open,” you raised an eyebrow at him, “you could share with the crowd or tell me to fuck off and leave. Or we could both pretend that none of this ever happened.”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Well duh,” you answered, “it’s basically the law that you have to tell me now.”

“Sunshine, you’re not dumb,” he mirrored your position and leaned in, leaving only a small distance between your bodies. You could feel his warmth radiating onto you, “I wouldn’t give just anyone my jacket after all. I like you, like you too.”

“Oh gross,” you laughed softly, “that’s super gross. Feelings.”

“They’re the worst,” he agreed and you leaned in towards him, wanting, wanting, wanting.

“I think, Joel Miller, that you should express those feelings and kiss me,” your entire body was practically vibrating with excitement as you leaned and closed the little bit of remaining gap between the two of you. Joel effortlessly took over, his hand gently finding your face as he kissed you slowly, but deeply and with meaning. You weren’t sure what kind of feeling you had been expecting but it definitely wasn’t this. 

You’d had your fair share of first kisses but this was, by far, the best one yet. You didn’t want it to end, only parting from him reluctantly when you were both breathless. He pressed his forehead to your and laughed softly, “how was that?”

“Super gross,” you beamed at him, warm and soft, before stealing a few more soft and gentle kisses, “I love it.”

“You’re something else, sunshine.” his hand slid to your neck and he gently traced his fingers over your soft skin, “I definitely like you.”

“Yeah, I definitely kinda like you too,” you whispered, wrapping your fingers tenderly around his wrist, “was this your plan all along?”

“Hmm, not entirely,” he confessed, “I just want to get you out here to enjoy the view. You just happen to have no poker face, so I wanted to see if you’d finally say anything.”

“You could have said something too!” you shook your head, biting the inside of your cheek, “you’re just as bad.”

“I would have said something eventually but you beat me to it…”

“I was coerced into it!”

“It was voluntary,” he insisted, “and you know it.”

“Yeah well…fine,” you agreed, “just shut up and kiss me again.”

“Now that I can do, sunshine. With pleasure.”

[gnohomotho]

Hello you treasure ❤️❤️ can you pleaaasseeee write something (fluff/angst/cute) about the recruiter and a plus size reader or a reader struggling with her body? 😭 You write inner thoughts AMAZINGLY and I reeaaaaally relate this would mean so much to me thank you!!

Of course! That is such a lovely idea!

You’re Not Pretty. You’re Unreal. ❦✞

Pairing: The Salesman // The Recruiter x fem!reader Summary: As the prompt says, but I added a little backstory and a nice barman. c: You go through remembering your first encounter to the present, and oh, the salesman intends to show you exactly how beautiful you are to him. ♥ (Right after some light murder.) ˙ᵕ˙ Warnings: Look, it's a very enamoured salesman and some death. I would, in my old age, classify it as erotica but I am still far behind the best of the best. 18+ MDNI, touching, fondling, kissing, grabbing, pushing, lustful making out, implied sexual contact and oral sex, very fowl language and death. (❀´ ˘ `❀) Word count: 4.3k A/N: I have no excuse, and you'll know exactly what I mean the further you read. 𓆩♡𓆪 Gorgeous gif by @phantom-evil Taglist: @storytellers-randomshortstorys @ingstadstarlight @aashleyxjimin @aesthetic-winchesters જ⁀➴ If you like my works, I appreciate every like // reblog // follow // message; it keeps the blog going! ♥ Masterlist ฅ^._.^ฅ

You were sat at the bar, to the side of the corner, so you could watch all the newcomers. The barman knew you by now. You came here often, alone. And he was your anchor in times you both knew to be some very troubled waters.

You studied his features, as you always did. A sweet fellow with a face far harsher than his heart, and arms to match. Each inch of rough freckled skin told its own story. Sometimes, when the night was slow and you had nowhere to go, he'd tell you one.

As he washed pint glasses under the chasms of his watchful dark eyes, red hair shaved on the sides and running down the hem of his ears in neat chops, never intruding on the concentration, he gave you that small knowing smile from the corner of his chapped mouth - "you're safe, lass, don't you worry" - it seemed to say.

You always found his presence comforting. And purely platonically, the way he looked up from a pint with foam stuck in his ginger beard made you laugh.

He never minded that you always asked for the worst possible drink in a dark, smoky bar (tea with some milk - "at least it's not the yuppy shite wi' feckin' sprinkles and a brolly" was the answer to your worry the first time you inquired) and he never minded taking care of those who bothered you.

Though you were rather sure he just enjoyed beating the shit out of people with a good excuse.

Unless...

Your eyes fell a little, memories knocking on your mind's heavy door.

You wandered through your thoughts as you stirred the lightening liquid. The first time his watchful eyes saw you, you had wandered in soaked wearing a dress that barely held, gripping a packet of matches and a single card with a spade motif on it.

He had said, once, at 3 a.m. before closing between just the two of you and some very drunk patrons, that you were such a striking vision - like that of his own folklore. You hated yourself less then, knowing it was nothing but respectful, but you stuck your thighs together and covered your chest.

You hadn't eaten a thing and were still feeling like your presence spilled over.

Back then, the first time...as he was leaning in that stained white tank top tucked into a cut off leather belt, eyes almost caressing yours. That was the first time you felt genuine care for you, asking for nothing in return. He was never intruding, never tried anything.

He said you looked like you were about to announce someone's death or pull them into a river, and they would be thankful to their last breaths. But then, his smile froze a little and his eyes lost their spark. As he looked at the matches, he slid the card into his calloused hands as though it was soaked in poison, and frowned.

"Oh lassie, ye' poor wee thing. Getting yerself caught wi' someone like that."

You remember the way he shook his head, like a man watching a moth fly directly into a candle flame, unable to stop her gentle wings. Wistful and calm, because he'd watched ten moths burn already the exact same way. Even his mouth fell sadly into the ginger storm as he laid a strong scarred hand on the bar, letting his knuckles fall one by one close to your outstretched fingers.

One eye glinted as he chewed on the corner of an unlit cigarette, shifting it to the other side of his mouth. Eyeing the bar patron by patron, watching the door. But he wasn't scanning anymore, he was searching.

"If I touch yer hand, bonnie hen," he hummed to the room, "I might as well get me own epitaph signed, but it need be held tight or get a stiff drink stuffed in it."

You remember the noise as he lifted his head, and the door moved as if on cue. Perhaps a drunk who can't read. Perhaps not.

"Get out ye daft prick, didn't I tell ye already? Closing time! Jist fucking braw, this is." He lifted and flung a rag over his shoulder, straightening to his truly foreboding height to get ready to throw out whoever just tried to get in. But in the commotion, he slid you the card back and momentarily touched the tip of your finger, eyes never leaving the door. Through the gnawed cigarette his lifted mouth corner whispered to you:

"Darlin', go fix yer face to the wee ladies room. Take yer time."

You got the message. Though as you got up, you heard a whisper under his breath as he gave you his harsh but heavy coat to keep warm, eyes positively bludgeoning the door:

"Long time deid ye are, ye scunner."

❥❥❥

The dim yellow lights shone onto your wet hair. You held that one card under them, watching it glisten. Quite the commotion going on outside, you couldn't make out the shouts. Or the amount of hits. Then the voice of the barman, deep and level. Then softer. As if he were...bargaining. You wondered what for, he seemed disinterested in earthly bullshit and you didn't think him one to ask nor beg. You pushed the thought away and examined the card under the orange light.

A playing card, seven of spades. Corners worn from your pockets as you traversed the city.

You remember standing in front of the sink. Hating the reflection. Tired. Cold. You felt your body didn't belong in the clothes and each surface stung. Clung. Revealed too much.

Flesh. You could not get rid of it. It seemed to morph in front of you. Bigger, wider, then momentarily normal. Before morphing into a reflection like that of a funhouse mirror. You huddled into the coat and covered your chest, barely concealed by a soaked dress.

You were lightheaded.

You thought about being sick.

You held your stomach, your hips, your chest, and felt empty. So much flesh. So little spirit. You'd almost scoff.

When did it get so bad? When did it creep up on you, like the numbers of every gram and millilitre? When did your worth become the amount of flesh gone? Hollow cheeks a mark of repaying a never ending invisible debt to exist?

You focused on the other item before the mirror made you actually cry.

The matchbox had a little spade symbol drawn on it. You had found it on the bridge as you gazed at the river below, thinking much the same thoughts.

You took out a single match and watched it burn. Then fall. Then disappear.

Another.

Another.

Life and...nothing.

Heat and...nothing.

A fire to burn down a church and...nothing.

Lighting your eyes momentarily in the mirror before dying once more.

You knew what you were doing - and how wrong it was. You knew the trap you were walking into, the details didn't stir you.

And the bar you found after hours of searching in the rain...had an eight of spades neatly tucked into the flowerpot right outside.

He knew. You knew.

He knew you would come.

❥❥❥

Back to present.

You sat at the bar, and the barman smiled gently once more, cigarette playing in one mouth corner. Eyes growing softer as he watched you stir your drink. He slid a small shot glass your way, and you smiled wide - he knew you don't partake, he knew you had your own issues that prevented it - but he also knew some of the good highland herbs in combination with sharp liquor soothed your mind and soothed the innergoingson.

A man sat next to you, pulling up close. You feel like the both of you are too old for this shit. The barman seemed to read your thoughts.

"Wouldn't do that if I were yerself, lad."

The man didn't look away from you, you could feel him lifting each layer of cloth off you in his mind.

"Is the seat taken?" The stranger mused, giving you a little wink. He wasn't even slurring, not even a good excuse.

The barman said nothing, only eyed him through a pair of hazel coinslots.

And you, against your better judgement, downed the shot and stirred your tea. It stung your throat and laid warmth in your chest, the herbs softly tickling your lips. You saw a glad glint in the barman's face and went back to your tea, smiling in thanks.

Just as you were checking your phone to make sure your...acquaintance...was alright, you hear him lean into you.

The cheap cologne stung.

"Such a pretty girl all alone, waiting for someone?"

You lean back and send off a quick message. If looks could kill...but you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"I don't want to be impolite, but you really should leave that seat."

You hear the barman barely contain a snicker as he pulled another beer and sent it the other way.

The man wasn't giving up. Eyes pinned to your neck, leaning closer in what he surely imagined to be subtlety. Your phone lit up and your gaze softened instantly.

Oh...you sweetheart.

Looking up, you grew cold again. The stranger lifted a hand to touch your hair and you shot away.

"Don't be like that, tell you what...if I go, will you leave with me?"

He was positively speaking to your chest, eyeing you up and down with the motion of a broken elevator. The groan from the barman wasn't lost on you, nor the subtle crack of his knuckles on the glass.

"I'd listen to the lady, if I were half as dimwitted as ye look."

You felt the calming presence return to you, now replaced with an air of something colder. Though he wasn't intervening. And you knew exactly why.

Never disturb a snake about to take its meal.

The barman leaned onto the surface of the bar with folded red-haired arms, smiling a tad too sweetly.

"Unless yer aff yer heid for a game."

❥❥❥

You went back to your tea, eyeing the little maelstrom, adjusting your dress. You really weren't feeling too good today. About yourself, about the evening, about the glint in the eye of the man you knew would come any minute.

You weren't in the mood for an argument. But you knew it had to come. He never did like the things he cherished disrespected. Even less so if they were doing the disrespecting.

The message you sent was only a heart - a black heart, meaning, thinking of you but wary.

He sent back a white one, meaning safe, all good, darling.

Like two crows, gliding on the wind. You smiled into your phone. Maybe you were just being silly. Maybe...maybe he would be kind.

Of all the times to wear a white dress, you thought as the sleazy voice disturbed you again.

"I don't mind a good game, if this is the prize," the man dragged you from fonder thoughts and touched your leg. The barman's eyebrows shot up instantly, hand gripping the glass. But he only shook his head, getting up with a sigh, eyes firmly on the door ahead.

Usually, he'd take care of the nuisance for you, but he merely chewed his cigarette and slid it to the other corner of his mouth. A puff of smoke worth a thousand words left his lips as he walked a safe distance, though you heard the mutter.

"Yer well fucked, mate."

❥❥❥

The door closed with a polite tap, no one really looked up. You didn't either, too enthralled by your tea and moving your leg away. The man returned to it from another angle, but you crossed it with the other.

So he tried to catch your wrist with the excuse of examining your life lines.

He didn't get so close as to touch a single finger before a perfectly cuffed hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

"Do excuse me, but this seat is taken."

You didn't look up, merely smiled into your little swirls. Oh, that soft voice laced with cyanide.

"And so is the young lady."

You closed your eyes and waited for the noise that would make you wince - and you shook as you heard the snap preceding the scream.

An absolute theatrical pitious tone followed, dripping with overplayed regret and care.

"Oh, sir! What an unfortunate accident. It seems you would very much be in need of some medical attention."

The voice you knew so well but still sent ice down your spine when using this tone cooed, circling your ears.

"Let's go take care of it."

The man got up, stunned, nearly sobbing, likely in shock and you noticed the glint of something metallic digging into his back. You were wondering how he became so compliant so fast and sigh into your tea. Does he always have to be so dramatic? Yes, when it comes to you, he does.

"Now, let's get out of the nice man's hair and talk it out outside. If you have any complaints, I would be delighted to hear them."

You exhaled, watching the tall figure drag the man out half limping, holding onto his broken wrist. What a vision that figure was, an imposing presence in elegant clothing draping an arm around the stranger, with the other politely behind his back.

It only took less than a minute after the door tapped shut to hear the muffled screams and sudden shot silencing all else.

As the figure entered once more, he adjusted his tie and smiled your way, charcoal eyes fully falling into you. Nonchalantly he walked up to you, then nodded at the barman. As he sat next to you, pulling you close, you noticed a speckle of red on his round cheek. He caressed your hip, your back, and planted a soft kiss on your shoulder. His hand squeezed you and you recoiled a bit.

You narrow your eyes and gaze into his, tone growing dry:

"You didn't even let him play, did you?"

He cocked his head and blinked slowly, momentarily zoning on the place he gripped, likely taken aback by your lack of warmth.

"Some players aren't worth the ink on the cards."

He adjusts his hair but zones back at you, face so close you can tell quite well the speckle isn't alone. You lean in, nudging his forehead. You cannot stay mad at him, nor ignore how lovely you feel next to him.

"You've a little something on your face, darling."

He raises his eyebrows, strong finger lifting to caress your cheek down to your chin and softly glide to your neck. The tender light touch makes you sigh in gratitude, he could read you like a book.

And...he actually took note of each passage.

He lulled with your head and mumbled softly, closing his eyes.

"We should go somewhere more private to take care of it then. I think you deserve some cleanliness too - I loathe the feeling of my beautiful flower stained with such filth."

You giggle, entirely honestly, and cup his cheek. He smiles into it and rests his head against you.

"Git a fookin' room ye twa," you hear behind you and laugh, acknowledging the warmth in the feigned exasperation of the barman's voice.

You pull away apologetically and try to keep yourself from blushing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just...haven't seen him in so long and I was worried."

The dark eyes from behind the bar positively spin in their sockets as both arms shoot up.

"Aboot him?! Lass, yer off yer rocker. Git out. Git out and have a lovely time far away from me bar."

He walked over to the figure that was still caressing you, half watching the movement, half engulfed in your touch and your presence. Enthralled by your features. As he always was. Like touching a gorgeous flower for the very first time.

"And ye be nice to the young lady. She could use it."

The finger brushing your jaw momentarily stops and your companion gets up, giving a small bow and a smile as he provides the barman with a little something from his wallet.

"Thank you. But I'm always nice to my young lady." He lifts an arm to you, and you take it.

"Shall we?"

You don't have to drown in those beautiful eyes to see the adoration and just a glint of something darker, far more animalistic, far more excited just behind the warmth.

❥❥❥

“What’s the matter?”

The door hadn’t even closed and he was already on you, hands laying on your waist. You didn’t answer, only pulled away from his grip as gently and elegantly as possible so as not to startle nor offend.

“Nothing, it’s nothing…”

His charcoal eyes watched you, travelling around your body, examining, looking for a single clue.

“We both know that’s a lie…” His voice was colder, but he didn’t try to return his touch. You could see his watchful eyes travel up your stomach, up your chest, to each shoulder, then the middle, up your neck.

Checking.

“Did someone hurt you?”

You scoffed.

“No. Your property is as shiny as ever.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Oh. Of course not. You looked away, arms crossed. He didn't move away.

“I could see it the moment I laid eyes on you, darling. Disconnected from the creep. I know your body, I know your language, it was positively screaming at me.”

He zoned in closer, carefully lifting a finger to your cheek again. When you didn’t pull away, he brushed it with his knuckle, humming to you.

“Still is. But you won’t let it speak.”

He turned his head to catch your gaze, but you didn’t look. You were shivering, hating yourself more as he was so kind. Surely he was pretending. Just to get what he wants.

But he didn’t stop. He laid his face to yours, cheek on cheek, as if you were to start a slow dance – and didn’t force you to look. Merely brushed his lips across your skin, letting you feel his presence, his warmth, his reassurance…asking for nothing. Oh, he knew you quite well. Quite well to pretend.

“And you know I despise lying…” he mumbled slowly, lips forming a small round shape on your cheekbone and travelling to your mouth. Softly he used his knuckle to turn your head and find your lips.

“I’m not lying…” you hush into his lips and let him plant the kiss, momentarily letting your guard down and lifting your hand up to cup his cheek. You could feel him smile again and the thoughts torturously let you have a moment before returning to you and burning you alive.

“Oh yes you are, my little dishonest girl.”

His soft lips took yours and you felt the pressure, the tenderness in the warmth and heat of his mouth, tongue gently tasting your upper, then lower lip, before pulling away. You felt a hand on your stomach and practically jumped.

“Is it…?”

“No!” You almost shouted, clearly offended, and threw your hands up stepping away. You couldn't look at him as your thoughts got the better of you.

“If that’s all I’m good for…is that what you want? I must be so stupid...so blind. I can't even look at myself, but at least I'm good enough for that?”

Your left eye was beginning to sparkle. You felt like you were being strangled, and he was offering you air you couldn’t breathe. It hurt even more than being actively deprived of it.

“Good enough to throw against a wall, not good enough to be human. Or even barely human, when it comes to you. Good enough to sleep with, not good enough to love. God knows if that were ever true. A connoisseur going for a cheap imitation with peeling paint and rusted edges, falling apart from its weight alone? God, I am so stupid. I’m sorry. I must have been more dishonest than even you could have thought.”

The tear fell and you looked away.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m sorry and I will leave now.”

He blinked, expression frozen and utterly unreadable. His body was unmoving, his hands showing not a hint of motion. You clearly said too much and the gears were turning slowly, meticulously, and you fully expected him to either walk out or forget he ever cared. Or simply nod and clear the way.

But he didn’t speak. He only slowly approached you, straightened to his full height and calculated in each step. As if you were a wounded crow about to use its last bastion of strength to peck his eyes out. Slowly an arm moved around you and pulled you close by the small of your back.

Avoiding your hips, gently laying his chest on yours, the salesman exhaled softly into your hair. Feeling no resistance from you, he used one strong palm to push your head under his chin so you could hear his heartbeat.

Rapid, fast, utterly betraying the cold stance he was projecting.

He wanted you to know.

He wanted you safe – and he wanted you to know his heart was as true as his demeanour was not.

As he caressed your head and hair, repeating a slow, gentle motion, he swayed with you almost unnoticeably. Just enough to not let you freeze, not let the paralysis in. Dancing you to the end of love, you bitterly thought. You could feel the rumble in his chest as you closed your eyes.

“That bad?”

And you knew there was a whole world of understanding in those two words alone.

You placed a single nod into his chest.

“Have I ever told you you’re the most beautiful flower I have ever laid eyes upon?”

You nodded again.

“And have I ever told you that the garden pales in comparison so much that the flower has learnt to hide her petals?”

You don’t move.

“And when she first opened up to me, like a lily to the heat, I could not believe my eyes. Nor my mind. Nor my luck.”

You gently allowed yourself to smile and swayed with him. His voice was strong, but the little hops in intonation you could feel bobbing against your head and chest gave it away.

“And there was so much briar growing around her, so many thorns and filth, strangling her tender stem…every day I vowed to pluck it. To keep it safe. But I wanted to let her grow. Now I see the briar strangled my rose and she’s barely here with me. Barely opening to me, loathing her own petals."

A little pause and...

"I’m sorry.”

He pulled your head up just a tad, just so you could meet his lips.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to tend to you.”

His expression momentarily softened, frowning a little too theatrically.

“Poor thing. You thought I’d let you go just like that?”

There he is.

He kissed your forehead.

“Just let you walk out?”

He kissed your cheeks, one by one.

“I don’t leave the game until the dealer is dead.”

Suddenly, you could feel his hands grip yours – not gripping your body but keeping you from moving an inch and holding you down. One foot slid between yours, nudging them and keeping them apart. Oh, he listened to you, heard you, understood you – and he’s still playing the game by your own terrible rules.

You didn’t know whether to laugh or give a standing ovation.

“A true gambler, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

He nudged your feet apart further and pushed his body against you, still not overstepping yet playfully towing the line like it was as thin as a spider’s web.

You could feel his excitement, you could feel his need – and you could feel his restraint, which melted you entirely.

“Let me play for you.”

His breath was faster now, hot on your ear. His whispers made you shiver in the warmest of ways as the suit brushed your skin in its closeness.

“If I make you believe what I see each time I look at you, I win a favour.”

You smiled, the hint of sadness still in the corner, but melting...melting slowly.

“Deal.”

“Are you sure?”

He purred in your ear, a hint of breathlessness to the heat, hand leaving yours to stop just before your ribs, hovering above your hips and playing with the air around.

Teasing. Smiling. Waiting.

A subtle nod that he caught sent his hand to your side, and you tried not to flinch. The strong fingers grip your flesh and you wince. His breath nearly stops as his hand fully connects with your skin.

“God, you are ethereal...I almost forgot my own rule. Every win is non-rescindable. Each part you give me is mine to do with as I please.”

He pulled you close now, and slowly began to push you, step by step, into the cold wall behind you. As he leaned you against it and bent to kiss your neck, he mumbled into your skin.

“Still want to play, little lady?”

You gasped as he bit your neck, suckling on your skin and traveling lower. Trailing your collarbones with kisses. Your chest heaved towards him, half from the cold of the wall behind you, half for reasons that don't belong in polite company.

You gasp and whimper, bestowing the air with sounds that send him straight into overdrive. His hands grip you so hard you twist, his body thrusts into yours and his lips claim every place he brushed with a fierce appetite.

One hand finds your head, your hair, and pulls – pulls hard enough to force your head to crane back and your neck to expose before him. As a single finger hooks itself in the hem of your neckline, he pulls away, breath fast, eyes wild. Beads of sweat forming on his perfect forehead.

“I’m waiting.”

“Make me feel…like what you see…? I don’t…believe that’s…possible.”

You try to sound as assertive as you can and fail miserably, your body quivering under him – begging for him wordlessly. And you know he knows you know. Oh, he revels in it.

A single hand ghosting the air around your neck was enough to make you half close your eyes and exhale that soft, skipped breath that he loved so much. The breath he loved to turn into a barely breathing moan for him – and his hand almost gripped your neck, forcing you to look up, forcing you to drown in those beautiful dark eyes while gasping for air.

And you do what you know is exactly what your red-haired protector warned you about. Precisely what your body was quivering for yet fearing.

You nudged your head forward, turning a nod into a neck placed right between his fluttering fingers.

And he gripped.

He gripped and pushed his lips against yours, fully tasting you, fully gorging on your every molecule, every touch, every drop. His tongue explored your mouth and his lips took yours in fully, forcing himself down your mouth and exploring every crevice. His hand slid down and found your hip, squeezing freely now, caressing every inch and sliding down, further down the curve, laying his entire palm against your beating stomach.

Each touch so sincere and possessive he could be imprinting it into his mind.

Between hurried breaths and tears at your clothing as he took you and flung you into the other side of the wall, travelling down with his mouth, kissing each breast and revering you like a man suckling on the first drop of water after dying of thirst, you could hear him gasp.

“My absolute…beauty of a woman.”

And you moved into him, parting your legs and he took the invitation with gusto – hand sliding up your thigh, circling the outside than forcing itself between your legs, once more sliding them apart with his own. Firmly placing his foot between yours and not giving you an inch to glide back into yourself.

And oh, you feel his excitement. You feel his reverence. It’s positively pushing into you. You blush into the hurried gasps and level yourself against the wall, but he catches you and pushes you down again. His body pinning you right against it, nowhere to even think to move, only his face and eyes to run to. Only his lips ready to devour you whole.

“Tell me,” he whispers and kisses the spiral of your ear as the hot breath makes your head spin, “tell me little flower…do you feel how much I love you?”

His hips push into your body, firmly guiding themselves to your navel and lower, lower still…you look away and moan softly, twitching in his grip, shivering for him but still…

“Do you feel how fucking beautiful you are, how I cannot even think to stop if I wanted to? I’m yours, entirely yours, and I don’t regret a single second. I would play a losing hand just to be in this moment a second longer.”

As he lays a single kiss between your breasts, leaving your form only to give each the care he cannot contain, you melt.

“You silly, gorgeous girl…I would lay down a royal flush just to taste you one last time.”

To underline his words, he finds each breast and kisses it between his gripping fingers. Circling you with his tongue and tenderly biting down just to hear you gasp. As he sees your lips quiver, he hungrily travels up your neck, biting and kissing every inch, until your moans and whimpers drive him even madder and force him to claim your mouth. Inching away just a moment to mumble before sinking into you again.

“Oh, my Y/N, if you knew how perfect you are to me…” he kisses you hungrily as if he cannot stand to even finish the sentence, “you would force every mirror to crack in reverence for its inability to show such beauty.”

Again his tongue is invading your mouth and you reply in tune, exploring his warmth, his lips, biting down just to feel him tense up. Just to drive him madder. As he pulls away and gazes at you, eyes flicking from yours to your mouth, your chest, your shoulders, his eyes momentarily soften.

“Every inch of you is my own blessing, Y/N. My winning card. My luck personified."

If he didn't look like he was about to eat you alive and make you beg for more, you'd almost cry at the unfitting monologue. You momentarily relax in his arms, letting the last of your guard down. Oh, that sweet cyanide voice.

"You silly, silly little girl, all mine, quivering like a little bird in the rain just for me – it’s taking everything I have not to take you right now.”

A flash of darkness you’ve known to both fear and yearn for glides across his charcoal eyes and betrays the warmth in his smile and the softness of his words.

“Then do it,” you whisper, pushing yourself against him, hips first, laying your hands on his cheeks and kissing him fully. His body replies instantly and you cannot tell which part belongs to who, the way he’s both in motion and so close to you. Pressing into you with all the love he just spoke of. Even his words come out low, fast, as if he cannot afford to be away from you that long.

“Oh, but I laid down the game, flower, I told you I’d make you feel exactly what I see each time I look at you. And I don’t skirt my games.”

He gripped your chin between his index finger and thumb and kissed you deeply once more before resting both hands against your shoulders, brushing against your collarbones like he was unveiling a painting.

He took his time to slide down to kiss your neck, your sternum, each breast, and lower, lower still, dragging the remnants of clothing out of the way. As he kissed your stomach and held your hips, he laid his cheek upon you and simply rested, revelling in the closeness. Revelling in his closeness to you.

“So utterly perfect. In every way.”

His hot whispers kissed your navel, fingers softly travelling down the curve of your hips. He then let the other hand repeat the motion as the tingles positively ate you alive and travelled around the back of your neck all the way down your spine. He began to pull your panties down, slowly, each side taking its time before kissing you even lower.

And even lower.

Lower still.

One last look up at you told you exactly how much he intends to change your mind. And as his hands gently pushed your thighs apart, he would very much imprint each and every syllable of his words into you until you couldn't moan anything else.

[theveryworstthing]

I'm Alive

I posted this on patreon so I might as well post it again here. Hopefully current and past patrons see this as well as people who have just been generally curious about where I've been.

I'm very sorry for not being around and I'm very grateful to those who stuck around. To those who didn't, I get it and I truly appreciate you passing through. 

Last year and the beginning of this year have been pretty bad. Some of you might have heard about my grandma's death and sadly, she was just the first of the family losses in the time I've been gone. There was also a friend's death discovery, my parents' health tanking, my friends Going Through It, and my own physical/mental problems. I didn't want to talk to the internet about these things because they were/are very overwhelming and private and tbh I used all my energy to help with the household and make sure work got turned in on time. When I had spare time after dealing with the near constant disasters, I didn't really feel like interacting with the internet at all beyond using it as a way to talk to far away friends (mostly to give them the thumbs up that i was alive) or watch/read things when my brain was less scrambled. Social media was an absolute no go and I didn't have any non-work art to post so I just kind of mentally crawled under the porch to die lol. 

I only drew work related things for months due to extreme burnout and it took me almost a month off after my last job to remember how to create again. I couldn't draw or write, it was kinda like art block except it was more like nothing was there at all? It's hard to explain. 

Things are still happening but I need to get back in the saddle eventually so here I am. 

I'm going to post the little art I did in June and all the sketches I did in January when I re-learned how to draw for myself. Again, I'm so sorry for being away without saying anything and I'm grateful to whoever threw me a buck, or even just casually enjoyed my art. Leaving like I did was really irresponsible and there's no excuse for not at least making a post about all of this sooner.  Every month I got a patreon payment was another wave of guilt because I literally couldn't give y'all anything but at the same time that money was letting me book flights to funerals and keeping my mom comfortable while she recovered from surgery right after I spent a lot of my savings in 2022 trying to fight my late cat's cancer. And then not posting about what was going on made me more anxious as time went on because there was more guilt every month so I felt like I needed to come back with a bunch of art and energy and good reasons and it was just. A Mess. 

But anyway.

I'm alive, I'm back. The Horrors persist, but so do I.

Thank you for your patience.

[stagkingswife]

Relationship Green Flags for Godspouses

I was re-reading an old post of mine the other day and I’ve been mulling over a throwaway comment I made in it ever since. I casually mentioned the inherent power imbalance of a godspouse relationship, and then just moved on. But I’ve been thinking about how this isn’t really a subject that I’ve ever really seen talked about much, unless it was in a kink context. And it’s all well and good if the innate imbalance of power in a divine relationship is something that gets you going in a kinky context, but what if it doesn’t? How do you navigate and deal with it then? Well it’s not something that is 100% on you alone, a lot of it is on your Otherpartner and how you interact with each other. So here are some green flags I’ve come across in my own relationship that I think might be helpful to think about and discuss with other folks.

Relationship Dynamic Doesn’t Change Around Divine/Spiritual Peers

Compare your divine/spiritual relationship to a mortal one, it’s a huge red flag to have a partner who is kind and sweet with you when you’re alone together but who talks down to you when you are around their friends, family, or co-workers. The same goes for your divine/spiritual partners, whatever your relationship dynamic is when you’re alone it should be more or less the same when around other entities from their pantheon or other entities of a similar caliber (adjusted for appropriate tone of course, I would not expect a very flirty or sexual dynamic in private to be the same in public for example). If your Otherpartner is usually very kind and respectful of you in private I would expect them to remain kind and respectful of you around other gods and spirits, and would find it concerning if they became dismissive or patronizing.

Never Puts You Down For Your Humanity/Mortality

This one is obvious for me. Just as you would expect a mortal partner to never insult you for your race or nationality, an otherpartner should never insult you for being mortal. I felt small and insignificant enough on my own in the early days of my relationship, I needed my otherpartner to build me up, not break me down. Your otherpartner should love you because of who are, not despite it, and who you are includes your mortality.

Time and Space to be Alone

This is possibly the biggest one for me. When you're involved with spirit there is the possibility that they will be around you all the time. With a human partner you have guaranteed time apart, even when you live together. You’ll have work, personal responsibilities, different hobbies, different friends, etc. You’ll have at least some time to yourself. But with an otherpartner there’s a chance they can be with you 24/7, whether you like it or not. One of the nicest things Oisin ever did for me was give me an area of his domain in the Otherworlds when we were courting as my own, a place that I ruled over enough that I could prevent his access if I needed to. He wanted me to have a private place to go to in case I ever needed to get away from him, in case we had an argument, or I just needed some alone time. He didn’t want me to feel like I was forced to be around him. This is something you can ask your partner for - and it doesn’t have to be Otherworldly space, it can be a room in your home that they won’t follow you into, one night a week that they leave you alone - figure out what works for you and your relationship.

You Style of Relationship Works for Both of You

We all know that there are many ways to be a godspouse. Some of us are more priestly and worshipful, others of us are more casual and relaxed, some of us are somewhere in between. There’s no right or wrong way to be a godspouse, only right or wrong for you. That being said, I have heard people say that they feel pressured, either by their otherpartner, or by expectations of being in a relationship with their specific otherpartner, to have a certain kind of relationship. I’ve only ever had the one divine relationship, so I can’t speak to the preferences of other entities, but it might be that there are some who prefer the more priestly style or the more casual style. But you should not be forcing your relationship into the format that your think your partner wants, or they have told you they want. You both deserve to be fulfilled by the relationship, find a compromise. Speaking of…

Your Otherpartner Compromises with You

Even when I was working with Oisin as a tutelary spirit and had agreed to follow his lessons without question we still compromised in our romantic relationship. The rules of our Teacher/Student relationship, and even the rules of our Deity/Devotee relationship, were separate from the rules of our romantic relationship. No one wants to feel like they are subservient to their romantic partner all of the time, or like things always have to go one partner's way or the other. I'm not saying your otherpartner has to let you get your own way all of the time, but they should be willing to meet you in the middle.

You may have noticed that these are all just regular healthy relationship dynamics applied to an otherpartner context. There's a good reason for this, every spiritual relationship is at its heart a relationship, it's important that it's fulfilling and rewarding for all parties involved. You can layer whatever spiritual or religion rules and obligations that you want on top of it, but a romantic relationship between to folk needs to be built on respect if you ask me. Discussion Time: Do you have your own examples for these green flags? Do you have other green flags to add to the list? I’d love to other folk’s thoughts!

[uvobreakmylegs]

Last Day Out

sorry for my inactivity here’s a Chrollo fic for your troubles

Warnings: death, kidnapping

Word count: 6.9k

The dark, clouded skies overhead threatened to burst open with rain at any moment, much to your disappointment. You were hoping that the weather would be good when you went out with him today. A nice day with lots of sun but wasn't too hot – that was what you'd been counting on. Days like that made it hard for you to feel sad, and you hoped it would be the same for him.

But despite a decent temperature, the clouds loomed overhead and blocked out the sun completely. That only left you feeling nervous.

What made that feeling worse was the fact that there weren't a lot of people here, the threat of rain was compelling most to stay at home. Not an unreasonable stance to take, but it was bad timing for you. A busier atmosphere in the cafe would have made you feel a bit more at ease, but when the only other company you had were the two waitresses who were currently wiping down empty tables and an elderly couple taking their time with their lunch, it was hard to feel like you had any safety in numbers.

Then again, the cafe could've been filled to the brim with patrons and you likely would've still had the same problem. Because no matter how many people were around you, it wasn't like that changed anything when you were sitting across from your boyfriend and trying to build up the nerve to tell him something that he wouldn't be happy to hear.

With the way things were outside of the cafe and how nervous you felt, you almost wanted to cancel your date entirely and move it to a different day, but you'd forced yourself to go through with it, knowing full well that if you dragged this out any longer, it would only get worse for you.

You needed to break up with Chrollo.

But you needed to do it in a way that didn't end in him being angry with you.

That couldn't be too hard, right? In the time that you'd known him, Chrollo had never exhibited any truly worrying behaviors towards you. The two of you had some disagreements, but he had never gotten full-on angry or even raised his voice with you. And while ending a relationship was much more significant than the minor disputes you'd had over unimportant things, you wanted to believe that he would take it well.

He needed to care at least a little about you, right? So he wouldn't take it badly and lash out in the worst way possible, right?

You had no idea, but you told yourself that he would respect you enough to accept your decision, even if it might hurt him to do so.

He was capable of giving you that much courtesy, right?

“You've been very quiet today.”

The sound of his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and then you were back, sitting in the booth of the brightly-lit cafe that was greatly contrasted against the dark hues present outside, with your mostly finished meal sitting on a plate in front of you while the older couple a few tables away spoke quietly to one another and one of the waitresses had disappeared to an area in the back.

Back to Chrollo, sitting across from you with a look on his face that you couldn't quite read.

You got the sense that he was studying you.

You gave him a soft smile as you said “I guess the state of things outside has me feeling a bit down.”

He nodded as if he understood, then said “we didn't need to go out today if you weren't up for it.”

“No, I wanted to go out. And besides, sometimes it's better if you make yourself do something even if you aren't feeling up to it.”

Immediately after saying that, you realized how bad that sounded, and you stumbled over yourself as you added “sorry, that came out wrong. I didn't mean to make it sound like going out with you was a chore.”

He smiled at that.

“I assumed that was the case, but I appreciate you clarifying.”

Chrollo took a sip of his water before saying “and while it's a nice sentiment, it's also always fine to cancel if you aren't feeling well.”

“It's not really a matter of not feeling well,” you answered, “just one of those days, you know?”

“I see.”

The meal was coming to a close, and soon one of the waitresses would be over to take your plates. Which meant the time that you needed to say those words you dreaded was coming up.

I think we should break up

Just thinking them made a lump form in your throat, and in that moment you really wished it was safe enough for you to break up by text. It would've felt scummy to do it that way but you wouldn't have needed to deal with this. Although breaking up through text wasn't taken well even by the most well-mannered people, and you desperately didn't want him to be angry with you.

You just couldn't see him the same way anymore.

Not after watching that video.

The waitress, the one with braided hair who'd been wiping down the tables earlier, approached your table and asked if she could take your plates. Chrollo responded for you, smiling as he gave her a polite confirmation.

Okay, you thought to yourself. As soon as she left, you would say it. Maybe begin by saying you had something important to talk about.

“Was there anything else I can get for you?” the waitress asked, “or did you want the check?”

You were about to ask for the check when Chrollo responded for you again.

“I wouldn't mind having a look at the dessert menu,” he answered. Then he looked to you as he asked “does that sound good to you?”

“Uh, sure.”

The waitress was happy to comply, and with the cafe being next to empty she brought the menus over to you quickly. Chrollo didn't take long to figure out what he wanted, and he and the waitress chatted a bit while you came to a decision.

You glanced over at him a few times, noting how comfortable and relaxed he appeared to be as he engaged in polite conversation.

He still had a knife, you realized. It sat next to where his plate had been, having gone unused during the meal. A bad thought came to mind then. Of how open the waitress' neck was and how easy it would be for him to grab that knife and then-

Stop it. Just order something and then get this over with.

The waitress went to the back soon after to get a parfait for you and a tiramisu for Chrollo, which left you alone with him again.

It'd be awkward to tell him now that you wanted to leave him, wouldn't it? So you'd need to wait until after you'd gotten your desserts to say it. You let out a soft sigh without thinking, after which you found yourself hoping that he hadn't noticed.

“I know it isn't much,” Chrollo said, bringing your attention back to him, “but I thought that perhaps something sweet might lift your spirits a little.”

“Thank you,” you replied, then added “sorry if I've been ruining things for you today, though.”

“Nonsense,” he replied, “no matter what mood you're in, I'm happiest when I'm with you.”

As he said that, he reached one of his hands over the table and held it out, and after a moment, you copied him, placing your hand into his and allowing him to squeeze it softly.

There was an odd flutter in your heart upon feeling his touch. And when you looked back to him and found the soft smile on his face as he stared at you lovingly, you remembered the day you met him and why you'd fallen for him.

The area where the two of you met was close to the cafe; you'd been walking on the sidewalk when someone had shoved into you from behind unexpectedly and you were sent crashing onto the pavement. Your hands and knees had taken the brunt of the fall, and were subsequently scraped up to the point of bleeding.

When you looked up from your bleeding palms to see if whoever had pushed you had the decency to stay and check if you were alright, you didn't find anyone, and you couldn't catch sight of anyone who looked as if they were fleeing the scene.

The situation was made worse when you saw that of all the others on the sidewalk were actively ignoring you. They wouldn't look at you, and for the ones that found you in the middle of their path, they would walk around you and go on their way.

That had been a depressing moment: you were clearly in need of at least some assistance and no one around you felt inclined to even acknowledge what had just happened.

That was when he showed up.

Chrollo seemed to appear out of nowhere and offered a hand to help you back up to your feet. He kept a firm but gentle grip on you as he looked over where your injuries were worst before he asked if you would let him help you.

Still in slight shock over the situation and being unable to properly use your words, you nodded.

Twenty minutes after that you sitting on a bench in a park while Chrollo applied the disinfectant he'd gotten at a nearby convenience store to your wounds before placing the bandages.

By that point you were feeling better, even after dealing with the painful sting of the disinfectant and the ache in your arms and legs. You wanted to repay the man who had been the only one to care about what happened to you. While he'd refused reimbursement for what he'd spent on disinfectant and bandages, he agreed when you proposed that you pay him back by getting him something to eat.

Ten minutes after that the two were sitting at a table at that same cafe, chatting over the desserts you'd be paying for. You remembered how grateful you felt. If not for him stopping to help you, your entire day would've likely ended on a sour note with you patching yourself up on your own and trying to distract yourself by watching a comfort film. Instead you were out at a cafe with a handsome man who had proven himself to be extremely kind and generous, and when he'd asked you to give him your number so he could keep in contact with you, you were more than happy to do so.

It didn't take long after that for Chrollo to become your boyfriend.

Evidently the way you met was also on Chrollo's mind, as he then said “We've come here a lot, haven't we? Ever since our first date that night.”

“Wasn't so much of a date as it was me trying to get over what happened after I got knocked down,” you mumbled.

He smiled as he said “I thought it was in repayment for my helping you.”

“Well, yeah,” you began, “you were really nice to me, and I wanted to do something nice for you back.”

“And I'm glad you did. We might not be here right now if not for that.”

“Yeah....”

The way you trailed off was a mistake, as you watched Chrollo's eyebrows furrow in concern. You tried to wave away his concerns before he could voice them, however, saying “sorry, just feeling tired.”

It didn't seem like you had been too successful, as he was serious when he spoke again.

“You should get some rest when you get home, then.”

You nodded while saying “I will.”

Just then the waitress from earlier approached the table with your orders, setting them down as she told you to enjoy. You both thanked her, and she walked off while you focused on the dessert in front of you. Despite hoping that Chrollo would be right and that you'd feel a bit better, the dessert didn't do much to ease your nerves. And what began to disturb you was the fact that every time you glanced up at Chrollo, he would glance up immediately after and catch your gaze. You tried to play it off by smiling at him, but you felt the muscles in your cheeks becoming more and more strained.

He wasn't stupid. He'd caught onto the fact that there was something wrong with you. Lying about it would only make it worse when you eventually told him.

Chrollo wasn't stupid, but you sure felt like it in that moment.

Not long after the waitress brought the bill out to you, placing it on the table while telling you to take your time. When she was out of earshot, he spoke.

“Is it really just the weather that's bothering you, love?”

You looked up at him and found that you couldn't read his expression again.

“This entire time you've looked as though you've been wanting to say something to me,” he continued.

…. Best to say it now, you supposed.

Placing the half-eaten parfait to the side, you took in a few breaths to try and compose yourself.

“Yeah, you're right,” you began, “there is something I need to talk about.”

He didn't reply, evidently waiting for you to speak.

You quickly glanced up at him again and just as quickly glanced at your folded hands on the table.

Just say it. Just say it and get it over with.

I think we should break up

I think we should break up

“I think we should break up.”

When the words finally left your lips, they were a bit more hushed than you'd intended, perhaps partially out of fear of saying them too loud and drawing unwanted attention to yourselves, and perhaps also because of how much saying them out loud scared you. You had no idea how he was going to react to that, and that uncertainty kept your gaze focused on your hands, too scared of what you might see if you looked back to him.

There was no reaction from him at first, and part of you wondered at first if he hadn't heard you. Yet the longer the moments passed with nothing being said and the more you felt his gaze boring into you, the more you felt certain that he had, in fact heard you. Perhaps he was taking the time to process it.

You still didn't want to look at him.

He didn't say anything at first, and for a moment all you heard was the chatter coming from the other patrons of the cafe. It sounded like the elderly couple were leaving as you heard the other waitress wish them a good rest of their day. The bell above the entrance rang out as the door was opened, and rang once more as it was shut.

Now all you heard was the waitress as she cleared up the table the couple had been sitting at and a distant rumbling of thunder from the outside.

You stayed quiet, figuring that the ball was in his court.

The first sign of a reaction from him came when he slid his plate to the side before resting his forearms on the table. From the edges of your vision, you saw the way he clasped his hands together. He was taking what you said seriously.

Then he spoke.

“I did get the sense that you wanted to discuss something important with me,” he began, “although I must admit that this wasn't what I was expecting.”

“I thought things were going well between us,” he added, “but there must be something wrong if you were unhappy with me and I failed to notice it.”

“I'm not unhappy with you,” you replied.

“Then why would you want to leave me?”

Just make it out like you're the one who's the problem, you told yourself again. Don't let him catch onto the fact that you know anything about what he's done.

“You didn't do anything wrong,” you said, “you've been wonderful, actually, and I've really loved the time we've spent together.”

“But I don't think that I'm really in the right place mentally to be in a relationship,” you continued, “I've got a lot to do with work and other obligations, and I really need to take some time to do some self-reflecting.”

“Self-reflecting on what?” he asked.

“General issues,” you answered.

Fuck. That felt like such a weak answer. Say something else.

“I'm also just not good enough for you.”

There was a pause before he repeated “not good enough?”

You nodded.

“In what way?”

You cleared your throat before saying “financially speaking, we aren't very well matched.”

“Why does that matter?”

“Because I don't want to leech off of you,” you said.

“You've never done that.”

“I feel like I have sometimes.”

He didn't immediately respond, but you got the sense that he wasn't satisfied with that line of reasoning. You needed to say something else.

“Plus, I'm really not smart at all when compared to you,” you added, “I don't always understand the things you talk about, and make you clarify yourself a lot just so I can get it. You shouldn't need to dumb yourself down for my sake.”

“When has that happened?”

“Just.... Every now and then, you know?”

“I don't.”

…. You didn't know what to say to that. It was becoming obvious that drawing this out was only exposing what little reason you actually had to be leaving him as your answers were becoming more ridiculous. And you still couldn't bring yourself to look at him, too worried that if you saw the way he was looking over you, you would crack.

Just keep blaming yourself and tell him that he can do better than you.

It wasn't like that part was a lie

Ignoring that bit of self-loathing that came up to the surface, you told yourself to press on. Find something that would be an acceptable reason for him.

Before you could do that, he spoke again.

“If it's simply insecurities of yours that are the only reasons you have, then those are things that can be worked on, and I would be happy to help you get through those issues. I don't see why we need to end everything when there's a much happier solution,” he said.

“You shouldn't need to deal with my issues, though,” you replied.

“Why not?”

“You deserve better than that. You'd be better matched with someone who isn't so much of a mess.”

“And like I said,” you continued, “I really need to work on myself on my own, and I don't want to drag you with me through that process. Or make you wait for me.”

“So you're telling me to move on?” he asked.

“I'm not telling you to do anything. I'm just saying you're wasting your time with someone like me.”

“You need to stop saying that, love. Being with you isn't a waste of time.”

His voice had a stern edge to it when he said that. As if you were beginning to upset him.

“Sorry,” you began, “and that's really sweet, but I think it's for the best if we go our separate ways.”

“And if I disagree?”

“..... I'm sorry, Chrollo. But I've made up my mind,” you told him, “I don't want to hurt you, but you can't force me to stay with you, just like I can't force you to stay with me.”

You reached to the side to grab your bag and fish out your wallet, saying “lunch is on me. It's the least I can do.”

He didn't say anything. And after you placed the jenny on the table to pay for the meal, you didn't say anything either.

You're almost out of this, you told yourself. Just get your things together and leave.

You were putting your wallet back in your bag when he spoke again.

“Is there a reason why you won't look at me?”

His question made you pause.

It made sense that he would ask, though. Since telling him that you wanted to break up, you hadn't looked at him once, instead keeping your gaze on either your hands or what was left of your parfait.

A normal person who wanted to break up wouldn't be so adamant on not looking at their now ex-boyfriend, would they? Not unless they were mad about something. And since your reasons had all been to do with how you were a mess and not good enough for him, it would be strange to keep that up, especially if your goal was to leave him without making him upset with you.

Look at him, apologize, and then leave.

And whatever images pop up in your mind when you see his face again, be sure to ignore them.

Taking a small breath that you hoped he didn't notice, you looked over to him.

There was an unhappy expression on his face, his lips set in a frown while his eyebrows were wrinkled over his eyes, conveying the feeling that he was sad and didn't understand your reasoning for leaving him.

You might've believed that was what he actually felt if it wasn't for the way his eyes studied you in that moment, watching your facial expressions closely to pinpoint something that would give away that what you were saying wasn't true, if there was something more that you were attempting to hide from him.

There had always been a certain intensity to his gaze, even from before when you felt good about the two of you being together. In the beginning it had made you nervous, the way it felt he could look right through you, but you had gotten used to it, chalking it up to Chrollo giving you his full attention.

You saw something different now when he looked at you.

You turned your head away, mumbled out one last “I'm sorry” and then placed your hand on the table as you prepared to leave.

“Just answer me one last question before you go, love,” said Chrollo.

“.... Okay.”

Almost there. Just answer his question and then you could leave.

“Are you sure you're leaving me because you feel that you're inadequate?”

He paused.

“Or is it because you found out about the Phantom Troupe?”

…..

Hearing him say those two words made you freeze. You didn't know how long exactly, but you stayed in your seat for a few seconds, staring at the floor of the cafe while your mind processed his words. He knew that you knew.

He knew that you knew.

Get out.

Now

With one hand on the table and another on the back of the seat, you were about to push yourself up-

He stopped you from standing as his hand clamped onto your forearm, keeping you where you were with a firm grip that refused to let go.

“You aren't leaving, love,” Chrollo whispered, “not yet.”

“Let go of me,” you replied.

You tried to pull your arm away, but his grip stayed strong.

“Stay seated and talk to me,” he said, “if you make too much of a scene, you might attract attention. That's what you've been trying to avoid, isn't it?”

Upon hearing that, you looked about the cafe. Neither of the waitresses could be seen, which must've meant that they were in the back. But they could come out at any moment, and if they did notice something wrong going on between the two of you, you feared they might involve themselves.

The thoughts you'd had regarding the waitress and the knife from earlier came back to mind, and you shuddered.

You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you caused Chrollo to do something to them.

“.... Okay,” you said, “okay. We can talk. But could you let go of me?”

“No.”

“I won't try to run again, I promise.”

“I wish I could believe you, love,” said Chrollo, “but unfortunately, you aren't proving to be very trustworthy at the moment.”

“Chrollo,” you began, trying to pull your arm away again and still getting nowhere with it, “Chrollo, you're hurting me.”

“It only hurts because of how hard you're struggling. Stop trying to pull away and the pain will stop,” he answered calmly.

“I want you to let go of me,” you said.

He didn't respond to that, and after a few more unsuccessful attempts to get your arm away from his grip, you felt yourself becoming desperate.

“Chrollo, please-”

Upon hearing that, he shook his head.

“Being polite about it isn't going to help you much right now,” he said, “if you really wanted to prove that you'd cooperate, you would stop struggling.”

… He was right that struggling like this was pointless, you realized. And as much as you didn't want him touching you, doing what he wanted was more likely to lead to a solution where you didn't end up dead. Tell him that you had no intentions of going to the police and that you wanted to forget everything.

You stopped trying to tear your arm away and instead sat quietly. Maybe the show of submission would have him let go of you.

Instead of that, his hand slid down from your forearm and grasped at your wrist. That looked less strange, probably. Like he was holding you affectionately instead of keeping you from leaving.

He got straight to the point, asking “how did you find out?”

“... Does it really matter?” you asked back.

He hummed.

“I assume someone told you, then,” he said.

“I didn't say that.”

“No, but it felt as though you were trying to protect someone,” he replied. Then after a moment he added “and it seems I was correct since you became even more tense when I said that.”

….. You hated how easily he was able to figure it out. And you hated how easily you had given up that information, even if it was unwittingly.

“Who was it?” asked Chrollo.

You shook your head. That was something you wouldn't be telling him. And when that became clear to him, he shrugged.

“The answer to that can come at another time,” he said, “though I have to assume it was someone important to you if it was that easy for you to believe them and not even ask me for my side.”

“.... I saw a video of you,” you whispered.

His eyebrows raised slightly.

“And what sort of video was that?”

“One where you sliced a man's neck open.”

He didn't seem to be phased by what you had said. He didn't push you any further on that, and merely hummed to himself again as he finally understood why all of this had happened.

Someone had shown you proof of his true nature.

Chrollo didn't push you any further on what you'd seen; it didn't seem to interest him.

But you remembered it clearly, sitting on the couch in your apartment, holding the phone that your friend had handed to you after calling you up and telling you that they needed to show you something important. They were standing over you, watching your reactions as you looked at the footage on their phone that they'd managed to get a hold of. It had come from a contact of theirs, they told you, but they wouldn't elaborate further.

You couldn't believe what you were seeing; Chrollo, who had always been so kind and caring towards you, approached what appeared to be a security guard in a hall who was distracted by his phone.

Then he had crept up behind the guard and sliced his throat with a curved blade.

And as he let go of the guard and watched as he fell to the floor, the camera that had been mounted on the side of the hall was close enough that you were able to see Chrollo's expression clearly, and it was best described as being disinterested. What he had just done was of no consequence to him.

But the truth was that the murder wasn't the worst part of the video.

It was what came after.

That neutral expression changed when you heard a voice come from off-camera, a cheerful voice that called out to Chrollo and caught his attention. Whoever had spoken didn't appear in the video, but you heard them as they made a joke about the dead guard, something in regards to him having his phone out on the job. What it was that had been said exactly you couldn't remember. But you did remember Chrollo's reaction to it.

He smiled as he let out a short laugh. It was a sight you'd seen before during the times that you'd amused him and was usually followed up by an affectionate pat to the head. Something you had grown fond of.

Now you saw that same smile at a murder scene.

Chrollo had just killed a man, and he was laughing about it.

Your world came crashing down and you could barely hear your friend telling you the details of what they called the Phantom Troupe and the things they had done as you were too focused on the fact that for the past eight months you'd been dating a murderer. Someone that didn't bat an eye at killing innocent people, and you'd been getting to the point where you were fantasizing about the possibility of living the rest of your life with him.

And that image of him in the video stayed in your head.

It would've been easier to deal with if he'd remained emotionless the whole time. That way you could've rationalized it in a different way; that everything you'd experienced with him was all a lie, any reaction you'd gotten out of him wasn't genuine and that he wasn't a person who felt anything, that he just used a facade to act like a normal person and all you were to him was a way to build upon that lie. That he'd picked you because he rightly assumed that it'd be easy to entrance you with the mask he wore so you would play the role he wanted.

What you had seen when he laughed was a genuine reaction. No matter what you tried to tell yourself, he had no reason to fake an emotion like that when he was around someone who was a participant in his crimes.

As quiet and reserved as Chrollo was, it wasn't as though he didn't have emotions. They were somewhat muted at times, but they were there.

And he had laughed at what his friend had said while a man lay dead or dying at his feet.

It was made worse when you thought of the happy moments that you had spent together. And even worse still was that moment from earlier, when he'd grabbed your hand and smiled at you and caused your heart to flutter.

How was Chrollo able to commit something as horrendous as murder and still be able to love you so freely? Even now, when he was literally holding you down so you couldn't get away from him, his thumb began to rub circles against your skin as if to calm you, and somehow it didn't feel like it was an act.

How could he do that?

“No wonder you've been so nervous today,” he said, “you must be terrified of me.”

Seeing no reason to lie, you nodded.

At that, he pulled your hand up from the table and brought it up to his mouth so he could place a soft kiss upon your clenched fingers.

It was a weird mixture of emotions again. Despite knowing that he was a murderer, you found that your mind was going back to happier times that you'd spent with him. Like the time you'd had a bad day at work and he showed up at your apartment after to cheer you up by making you dinner, or the time you'd happened to find a rare book at a pawn shop that you had heard him talking about and surprised him with it. Things that had you feeling like you were growing closer to each other.

You weren't lying when you'd said that you loved the time you'd spent together.

But you couldn't bring yourself to stay with a murderer.

“I was told that you – you've killed a lot of people,” you began, “I don't understand why you would do that when you've always been so good to me. I wouldn't have believed it if I wasn't shown proof.”

Chrollo was still holding your hand, but when no response came from him, you continued.

“I don't want to cause you any trouble,” you said to him, “I don't have any plans to talk to the police or anything – I don't even have the video, so it's not like I'd have proof even if I did go to them. It'd be my word against yours, and I'm pretty sure they'd believe you over me. So it'd be for the best if we both forgot about each oth-”

His grip on your wrist became tight enough that it hurt, and you were cut off as you let out a small squeak of pain.

The instant you made that noise his grip lessened, and he went back to caressing your skin. There was no acknowledgment of what just happened, however, as he appeared to be deep in thought.

Outside the weather finally broke and small droplets of rain were starting to come down against the windows of the cafe. It wasn't too bad now, but it seemed likely that the storm would become worse before long.

When the waitress returned to the table for the payment you had hastily left out for her, she didn't notice anything amiss with you. Likely because Chrollo distracted her by engaging in more conversation.

She returned to the back not long after, and then he spoke again.

“You've been rather cruel today, love.”

“.... Cruel?” you asked.

“Bringing me to this place with the intention of dumping me despite the times we spent with each other here,” Chrollo explained, “as if you wanted to ruin the memories that came from here.”

“That – it wasn't – I wasn't trying to do that,” you stuttered, “I just thought.... Maybe things would be okay if we spent one last nice day together and ended everything on a happy note.”

He wasted no time in responding to that.

“Are you saying that because you genuinely wanted me to be happy, or were you trying to ensure that I wouldn't retaliate against you after?”

…..

There was no doubt that your expression upon hearing that question told him everything. That, coupled with how clammy your hand felt while still being gripped by his gave him every answer he needed:

You were just trying to save your own skin.

After a few more moments of silence, Chrollo spoke.

“I think it's time we were leaving, love.”

With that, he finally let go, standing after exiting the booth before immediately holding his hand out to you once again. And as you once again had very little choice in what to do, you took it, allowing him to help you to your feet.

You left the cafe with your hand in his, the bell above the door ringing above you as you ventured out into the rain. Chrollo turned to the right upon exiting the building and began to lead you over to where he had parked his car.

So he was going to drive off with you, and then......

“.... What happens now?” you asked, “what are you going to do to me?”

“Keep an eye on you, for the most part,” Chrollo answered, “suffice it to say you won't be going out anytime soon.”

“What.... What do you mean?”

“Don't start believing your own lies, love,” he said, “ you know exactly what I mean.”

“But.... What about my job? They'll notice if I stop going in for work,” you replied.

“You'll be quitting.”

“So then.... You're going to make me stay with you?”

“It was about time we moved to that stage anyway,” said Chrollo.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head as you said “I can't do that. Please Chrollo, just let me go.”

“I told you earlier, love,” he said as he led you to the car, “changing your tone and being polite isn't going to do much for you.”

“But-”

He interrupted you to ask “you said the video you saw was one where I slit a man's throat?”

While hesitant, you still nodded.

“And you want to argue with me after seeing that?” he continued.

It dawned on you what he was getting at, and your voice was a whisper when you asked “so you really are going to kill me?”

“Of course not, love. You dying has never been an option,” he said.

“But I can't say the same for whoever showed you that video.”

It clicked then.

“I'm – I'm not going to tell you,” you said.

“It doesn't matter much if you won't tell me; I'll find out regardless,” Chrollo answered, “but depending on your actions right now, I might be willing to show mercy on them.”

“..... You mean you won't hurt them?”

He nodded.

“But that all depends on what you do now,” he said, “and whether or not you get into the car willingly or if I need to force you inside.”

With that, he opened the passenger's side door for you and after turning his attention back to you, he finally let go of your wrist. You instinctively held your hand up against your chest, partially from the relief that came when he finally stopped touching you, and partially so he couldn't grab you as easily again. At least, not by your wrist, anyway. Chrollo could easily still grab you by the shoulder and force you into the car, and you were anticipating that would be what happened next.

Except he didn't do anything. And when you looked to him while he still held the car door open, he didn't say anything to you; he only continued to look at you expectantly.

…. Ah. Right. He'd just said it.

You getting in willingly meant you getting in on your own.

Him letting you go like that was probably a test, you noted. If you were going to try and take advantage of the fact that he'd let you go and try to run, or if you really were going to cooperate with him. It'd also tell him how much you really cared about the friend that you wanted to protect.

As much as you found yourself wanting to run, you doubt you'd get far at all if you tried it.

So you climbed into the car just as the rain began to come down harder.

Chrollo shut the door after you.

Moments later he was in the driver's seat, buckling his seat belt before starting up the engine. He then looked over to you, and after a moment he reached over you to grab the seat belt to your side and secure you to the seat as well.

“.... Sorry,” you mumbled.

“You don't need to apologize, love,” he said, “though a 'thank you' would have been sufficient.”

“.... Thank you.”

He didn't respond as the car was pulling out of the space and onto the road. With the turns he took on the next few streets, you could tell that he was taking you back with him to his apartment. Just like he'd said. Where you wouldn't be allowed out for a time. Just like he'd said.

And as for your friend......

…. While you'd done as he'd wanted and got into the car on your own, it had taken you a little bit to actually do that.

Was that enough reason for him to kill them?

You cleared your throat in an effort to make sure the words came out as clear as they could.

“I'm sorry,” you said.

“For what?”

“For being..... Cruel to you,” you answered.

He hummed.

“I don't know how much I believe that, love,” he said, “it seems more likely you're only saying that as a way to try and appease me.”

….. There was no point in arguing, and you hung your head while biting your lip as you wondered if you'd just made a horrible mistake in saying anything else to him.

The car came to a stop at a light, and it was then that you felt his hand grasp yours once again. When he pulled your arm towards him, you didn't resist and allowed him to do what he wanted. Then his lips came into contact with your skin once more before he spoke.

“It's alright, love,” he told you, “we can get through this.”

“And with a little bit of time, I'm sure we can get to the point where you can apologize and actually mean it.”

You looked to him then, your eyes meeting his as he still held your hand to his lips.

And when you made eye contact, Chrollo simply smiled and kissed your hand once more.

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Misunderstanding

Prompt: A misunderstanding after being ignored for weeks.

~ Part 2 Part 3

Crocodile X Fem Reader

It had been weeks. Weeks, since Crocodile has even visited you. You knew he was a busy man but in the past he used to at least call you on the den-den Mushi he gave you, maybe even had someone deliver something that had reminded him of you. But there you were, waiting once again in a private room at the casino he ran.

         “What’s wrong Y/N?” Miss. All-Sunday asks, walking in and setting down a trey of glasses and alcohol. When you had first started dating Crocodile he had sent her to keep an eye on you. You knew she was keeping tabs on you, at the very least to make sure you weren’t sharing any secrets to anyone, but now it seemed like a slap in the face to know he was still keeping watch without even trying to contact you.

         “Same old, same old. Any word as to when Sir Crocodile will be back?” You pour yourself a glass of whiskey before slumping into the back of the chair. Miss. All-Sunday gives you a strange look before shaking her head, she never was one to share secrets. “Does he even like me? It seems like he keeps me around because it’s less of a hassle.” You complain while taking a sip. You’d never been one to drink too much but you felt like now would be the perfect time to get drunk and ignore the tight twisting anxious feeling in your stomach.

         Without too many other words you’re left alone in the room again to brood in your thoughts. You glance out the window overlooking the casino, staring at the patrons wasting their money. What else was there to do in the desert for fun but to come to a casino and spend your life savings? Even you indulged in the table every now and then. But now that you were looking down you couldn’t help but see the familiar looks of customers disappointed in losing or some women clinging onto a big winner. At least they’re getting attention. You blink your eyes for a second and shake your head.

It’s no use pining for something that won’t happen and that’s when you see it. The familiar tall man and gold hook walking his way through his own casino, guards keeping a distance while following him and others cowering out of the way. But that wasn’t what struck you, it was the girl holding onto his arm that made your breath stuck in your throat. Her skirt too short and her top barely a bra, Crocodile hates girls who flaunt for no reason. It’s not the girls fault, you knew that. You’re hatred and heartbreak coming in a fell swoop had to be pushed somewhere and you still refused to believe that the man you thought you loved would be doing this. He’s always wanted me to dress more modestly, hated when others looked at me, there’s no way he’d want someone like her.

You slam down your glass of whiskey, wincing as the liquid burns your throat before pouring a rather tall glass, turning to watch more. You felt a small sigh leave you as you watch your lover pry his arm away from the girl, but your short-lived happiness was replaced with a void when you watch him wrap his arm around her, placing his hand on her waist. No doubt in your mind that he’d squeeze his hand in showing they she was his, just as he had done to you oh so many times before. You felt tears brim your eyes as you drown yourself in the conveniently placed bottle.

The void in your heart became bottomless when you watched him lean down, no doubt to kiss her cheek. You turn away, not willing to watch anymore and decide to go back to the penthouse where you had been living. As you wait for the elevator to take you up your mind goes blank, what if he doesn’t want you there anymore? You can feel yourself start to shake at the thought and reason that if that were true the all-access card would have been deactivated. Miss. All-Sunday would have escorted you out. Something would be different. The door opens and you swipe the card that unlocks the main door to the pent house.

You rush to the bathroom, nearly slamming the door behind you staring into the mirror in front of you. Your hands grip the counter as you stare at the mess in front of you. Tears streaming down your face as you scrutinize everything. Weren’t you pretty enough? Weren’t you loyal? There was once when someone hit on you, the mans missing poster was plastered everywhere for months. But now? Now it seemed it didn’t matter.

Maybe you hadn’t seen it right. Maybe you were overreacting. You splash your face with cold water, trying to chase away any thoughts. Taking a deep breath before heading to your bedroom, you had to get out of this dress, needed something more comforting. Grabbing some sweatpants and a loose-fitting top. You pace back and forth trying to rake you brain into being calm. Is this why he hasn’t been in contact?

Before you could think too much there was a knock at the door. You heart sped up, not many people came up here, even fewer knocked. If you were here it was for a reason. You approached the door, “Miss Y/N. It seems you’ll be needed somewhere else right now.” Opening the door to 2 security guards standing there. They seemed a bit taken back that you weren’t in your normal clothes but you couldn’t stop shaking.

“Please miss, follow us,” One whispers while firmly grabbing your arm. They were kicking you out. Crocodile didn’t want you anymore. And he couldn’t have even given the curtesy of telling you to your face. You didn’t resist, being escorted out, you didn’t even bother to ask where you were going, the emptiness inside of you just kept welling up but you couldn’t let out any noise in front of them, you didn’t want their pity for being a forgotten fling.

To your surprise they led you back to the private room that overlooks the casino. You whip your head back at them, this had to have been some sort of sick joke. They weren’t even going to let you leave the casino. It had dawned on you in the past the Crocodile would never truly let you leave if you wanted to break up, you had acquired enough knowledge to harm him if left alone.

The door shut as you accepted your fate. The bottle of liquor still remained from when you had left previously and you decided to take a bottle. Might as well enjoy the last moments of my life. You sit back glancing at the window again scanning the crowd for amusement in these final moments.

Taking large swigs from the bottles as look, you can still see Crocodile with her, the women who has stolen your place. You feel the tears fall as you continue to watch, and continue to drown in your despair. He looks bored, the men surrounding him look like some business partners you’ve never seen before.

Stuck in this dreaded prison until someone comes to take care of you, you can’t tear your eyes away from the man below you, though far away you can still make out his features. The scar stretching across his face like some wicked reminder that he’s not an innocent person.

He was a cold lover, often forgot to talk to you. But he never forgot you, he had gifted you treasures beyond your imagination, given you dinners you’d only dream of, and even while busy he’d still entertain you, or at least allow you in his office while he took care of business. The passions of night being no exception to desires, he treated you like a god, though he always demanded respect and to be obeyed. He enjoyed watching you cry out in pleasures, pushing you to your max. But he never crossed the line, always making sure you were alright afterwards.

You watch him let out a laugh, the room you’re in deafening silent as you remember what his ‘business’ laugh sounded like. Finally, you let out a sob. A scream so loud you didn’t think you had it in you.  Thank heavens the room was sound-proof, otherwise others would think someone was being murdered in here. Oh. Oh yeah. You drop to your knees, hair falling in front of your face. Where had you gone wrong? What did you do to displease him to the point of disposing you?

You wretch your eyes up once more, a broken shell of yourself as you stared at the people below. Your heart stopped, despite being so far away it felt as though his stare was cutting through you. There was no way for him to truly be looking at you, his face cold but he must have just been staring in the direction of one of his many private rooms. You glance again and his gaze was still there, no emotion laid on his face.

It was only a matter of time, as his head turned back to those around him. You pound your first on the glass, biting your lip enough to taste blood. How many others has he done this too? Am I the first? Who was it before me? You sob out again as you heard a click of the door. Someone must’ve finally come to settle the score.

“My, Miss. Y/N. You don’t seem like yourself,” You heard Miss. All-Sunday chuckle out and you couldn’t muster up to look to her. Keeping your head low, “You’ll be dealt with soon enough. Don’t worry Y/N.” Her voice was soothing, as you heard her pour a glass. You let out a defeated laugh as she taps your shoulder with the glass, “Boss won’t be too happy to see you like this,” She muses sitting down in a chair.

“I’m sure he’ll be happier once I’m gone,” You mutter taking the glass from her, settling down as the time ticks down.

“It’s only a matter of minutes now,” She chuckles again. Why was she laughing? Had she come to comfort you in your last moments or taunt you for reaching too close to the sun? “You know, She’s stolen a lot from him…” Her mused voice hits your ears, “And those business partners of his are lookin for a hostage…”

Your eyes widen, glancing back at Miss. All-Sunday before staring back down into the crowd. “Although Sir Crocodile did warn me not to tell you anything” Her voice dripped with amusement, “But I don’t think he’d like how you are right now.” This was more information than you should have been given, yet your heart beat with hope.

[reccyls]

Victor's Main Route: Mad Love Chapter 22

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By the end of the fight, the men with Aqua were all dead.

Aqua: Eeek, don’t come closer.

The only survivor, Aqua, was trembling as he tried to crawl away.

Aqua: Please spare me, I was only following orders, let me live.

His attitude had done a complete 180 as he begged Harrison for his life.

Harrison: …Where do you keep your records about Nox Liberator’s activities?

Aqua: They’re in a drawer at my desk at the director’s office.

Harrison looked at Liam, who nodded and left the basement. The only ones left were me, Harrison, and the nearly-dead Aqua.

Kate: …I heard that most of Nox Liberator is made up of commoners. Kate: So why did you kill those children?

Nox Liberator was mostly made up of commoners, especially the destitute. Their members were not much different than the children that Aqua had killed.

Aqua: Compared to ideals, how are commoners or children different than pawns? Aqua: They should be overjoyed to be of use to us!

(Ah, so that’s it. He doesn’t think of them as comrades at all.)

I felt the urge to say something, but–

Captured child: …Miss?

One of the children was peering nervously through the gap in the door.

Harrison: Leave the rest to me. You get those kids out of here.

Kate: …Okay.

I turned around and made my way to the frightened children.

Kate: Everything will be okay now. Come on, let’s go outside.

Following the faint sunlight, I led the children out of the basement. The sound that echoed behind me would linger in my ears for a long time.

…

Liam found Aqua’s records, and we sent them to Crown’s castle immediately. The records contained a list of Nox Liberator’s members, allowing us to identify other senior members. The remaining children were brought to a hospital, and it was decided that after treatment, they’d be placed in an orphanage in London. The bodies left in that basement were all buried. Finishing my records, I stretched in my seat.

(Aqua saw his fellow members of Nox Liberator only as pawns he could use.)

I couldn’t forget the stench of that basement. Or that so many innocent people were killed for no reason at all.

(...I need to get over it. At least for now.)

I had another mission to join tonight. Glancing at the clock, I took a deep breath. Then I grabbed my bag and went to the foyer to get ready for my second condemnation that day.

-----

Alfons: One whiskey on the rocks, please.

Kate: Alfons…

Alfons: What idiot goes to a pub just to stay sober?

To find our second target, we were in a seedy pub in the outskirts of London. This pub belonged to Caelum, a noble and influential figure in Nox Liberator. He used it to look out for men who seemed to be fit or be particularly skilled. It was where he recruited members for Nox Liberator.

Kate: We’re on a mission.

I whispered to Alfons, while he took a large sip of his whiskey.

Alfons: Don’t be such a bore. We don’t get this chance often, so just relax and enjoy it. Alfons: And there’s nothing that stands out more in a place like this than someone refusing to drink. I guarantee it.

As he spoke, he discreetly turned to watch the other patrons from his seat at the bar.

(He has a point. It’d be weirder for me to not have a drink in this kind of situation.)

Kate: …Excuse me, one cocktail for me. Whichever one you recommend. Kate: Not too strong, please.

Alfons: Ahha! Now we’re both guilty!

I sighed at Alfons, who looked terribly amused. Elbert and Roger were waiting outside, and I wondered if they were doing okay. Just then–

Muscular Man: Hey there. This your first time here?

A muscular man sat down next to us and began chatting.

Alfons: …You see, the truth is, we just eloped.

Kate: Wha-

Alfons: We ran away for love, but I don’t want her to sleep without a roof over her head… Alfons: This lovely establishment caught our eye so we went in. It’s a very nice place, wonderful atmosphere.

(It’s like he’ll die if anything that isn’t a lie leaves his mouth.)

The man looked impressed and laughed.

Muscular Man: There’s rooms for lodging on the second floor. You look like you’ll need ‘em. Muscular Man: I know the owner of this place. Want me to talk to him for you?

Alfons: Would you?

Muscular Man: I got a condition, though.

The man raised a single finger. Then he leaned over to whisper to Alfons.

Muscular Man: You look pretty handy. Muscular Man: If you join up with our crew, you two can stay as long as you need.

(This is it…!)

Alfons’s smile deepened.

Alfons: Well, just between you and me, I’d heard a rumor or two. It’s why we came here in the first place. Alfons: With the way things are now, we’d never be able to actually get married. Alfons: I’ve been thinking that there’s no way to change it unless we rip out everything by the roots.

The man smirked back and motioned to the back of the pub.

Muscular Man: You head on up. I’ll call the boss.

…

Kate: …I cannot believe this is the plan.

We were waiting in one of the upstairs rooms, and decided to send a signal to Roger and Elbert who were still waiting outside. Roger then lifted Elbert onto his shoulders to hoist him up to the window.

Elbert: …Sorry. Roger said to do it like this…

Alfons and I hurriedly pulled Elbert in, and then Roger climbed in through the open window by himself.

Alfons: Showoff.

Roger: It was the best way. Anyway, time to wait for Caelum.

Shortly after that, the door to the room opened. The man from before stepped in, accompanied by a well-dressed man.

Muscular Man: Who the hell are you!

Alfons: Elbie, it’s your turn.

Elbert: …Got it.

Before the man could attack, Elbert stepped on his shadow. The man dropped to his knees, grabbing his head as he began to whimper.

???: What just happened!?

Roger: You’re Caelum?

The panicked man nodded as he tried to back away from Roger. But Alfons had slipped behind him and reached up to touch the back of his neck.

Alfons: You’re now in a world where the queen is dead. You’re enjoying your fame and position in society. Alfons: These two in front of you look up to you very much.

Caelum: Ah… Yes…

Alfons: Do go ahead, tell them exactly what you did to succeed. They’re very eager to hear about your victory.

Caelum took a seat and Alfons spared him just one more glance before giving Elbert a nudge.

Alfons: That fellow over there seems to have lost all his marbles so let’s head down to keep the rest of the people in the pub from kicking up a fuss.

Elbert: We’ll leave the rest to you…

And with that, the two of them left the room.

Roger: Can you tell us what kind of activities you were doing with Nox Liberator?

Stuck in Alfons’s illusion, Caelum began to tell us everything.

Caelum: I used this pub to look for people who looked like they might make good private soldiers. Caelum: We can’t kill the queen without people to do the fighting, can we? Caelum: I’d use money to lure in commoners with more brawn than brain and make deals with them.

Caelum detailed how he paid the people he recruited a pittance and sent them to different groups to do grunt work. The ones who managed to earn enough rose through the ranks and became his followers. He recruited many such people in this way, but he considered them to be nothing more than replaceable minions. He spoke about them the same way Aqua did, like tools that were meant to be discarded once they broke. When he finished speaking, Roger stood up, his hands curled into fists.

Roger: I see how it is.

And then he swung his fist into Caelum’s face, knocking him unconscious. I blinked in shock.

Roger: Because you have no authority, you use money to buy people. Roger: Real republicans would be disgusted by that.

He grabbed Caelum’s body by the back of the neck and looked over at me.

Roger: Let’s head back.

Caelum was collected by Crown personnel who were here to retrieve him. No one ever saw him again.

-----

(I’m exhausted…)

After going on two missions today, my mind was just as tired as my body.

(I want to see Victor…)

I knew I had a lot of things to do, but that didn’t stop my lovesick heart from wanting to see him.

(But I need to do the job he assigned me.)

I reached my room and was about to enter, when I spotted a nearby shelf move.

Victor: Welcome back, Kate.

Kate: Victor! What are you doing here?

Victor: I figured that you’d be returning around now. Very nice timing on my part, I have to say. Victor: Good work today. I know it was a lot to deal with.

His gentle voice and warm smile seemed to wrap around my exhausted mind and body. I couldn’t stop myself from burying my face into his chest.

Victor: !

Kate: Sorry… Can we just… stay like this, for a little…?

His surprise lasted just a moment as he realized how tired I was. One hand began stroking my head, and the other wrapped around me in a hug.

Victor: …I’m sorry for forcing so much on you.

You didn’t force me.

It’s not a lot…

It was hard, but… (+2/+4)

Kate: It was hard, but… knowing that I can be helpful to Crown, and to you, makes it all worth it.

Victor: Still, don’t push yourself too hard. If things are too much, you can take a step back and watch from further away.

(Victor’s scent… it’s so relaxing…)

The comfort I felt from his scent swept through my body and mind. My eyes narrowed in contentment at the soft touch of his hand moving through my hair.

Victor: There’s another reason I came to see you.

The arm he wrapped around me pulled me in closer.

Victor: You know about the special session called this morning to determine how to deal with Nox Liberator, don’t you?

Kate: Yes, I know.

Victor: Majority of the council members voted to classify Nox Liberator as a terrorist organization.

I looked up, seeing how serious Victor looked.

Victor: There will be a national crackdown on them. Victor: Regardless of whether they are a commoner or noble, they will be punished as a criminal who tried to overthrow the government.

Thinking back on Nox Liberator’s actions, that classification made sense.

(But is everyone among them working for that purpose?)

After listening to what Aqua and Caelum said, it was apparent that there was a division between the inner circle and most of the group’s members. The leaders viewed the rest of the members like disposable pawns, and most of them probably weren’t even aware of it. There were commoners who were being put to work because they were desperate for money, there were those who hated the queen, and then there were nobles who wanted to abolish the monarchy just because it would give them more power. It was hard to believe that all of them truly wanted the country to become a republic.

Victor: You’ll have an early start tomorrow as well, you should get some rest.

He brought his hand to my cheek like he was soothing a child. I nuzzled into it, basking in the warmth of his palm.

Kate: I know better than anyone else how Her Majesty puts her people above anything else whenever she makes a decision. Kate: I can’t stand the thought that people want to hurt or kill her.

Victor looked at me, startled.

Kate: I know that Crown will definitely bring justice to evils that have been committed. So you can continue to sit on the throne as you always have. Kate: …Tell Her Majesty that for me.

I peeled myself off of Victor and reached for my door. His look of surprise quickly changed.

Victor: I’ll be sure to let her know.

A satisfied smile spread across his face.

-----

After Kate entered her bedroom, Victor turned to the hidden passage to return to his own room. But he stopped, noticing that William was walking over.

William: Are you sure you should be here? William: There’s an awfully big fuss in the palace because of this Nox Liberator business, you know.

Victor: And that’s exactly why I’ve been stuck wasting my time in meetings with the councillors from morning to midnight.

Victor sighed with a heave of his shoulders, and William laughed.

William: Her Majesty must surely be close to the end of her rope dealing with all the vultures who do nothing except pay lip service.

Victor: I’m sure she is.

William: …At any rate. You’re really using your secret passageways just so you can let off some steam by paying our little robin a visit? William: And you even had a new one built. Some people would call this an obsession, you know.

He glanced at the shelf that hid the secret tunnel.

Victor: I can’t hide anything from you.

His smile deepened when Victor raised both his hands in surrender.

William: “If you ever see that robin again, I want to meet them.” William: I should have expected it’d come to this when you said that to me back then.

Victor said nothing. Instead, he turned to look at the door Kate had just left through with a smile.

William: By the way, I’ve finished investigating that other thing.

Victor looked away from the door, his gaze icy.

William: As you thought, the leader of Nox Liberator is–

Victor had only one thing to say in response to the name that left William’s mouth.

Victor: …I see.

He closed his eyes. The night passed quietly.

[yukizme]

meet the residents . . .

. . . of SUNFLOWER SQUARE ! — a two-building complex that serves as a residential as well as a commercial centre located in the very heart of the city. sunflower square pride itself on supporting various businesses such as a flower shop, a law firm, a security company, a tattoo studio and their very own café on the upper ground floor; all while maintaining a tranquil and peaceful environment for its residents and patrons. for more details and information about housing plans and/or lease agreements, contact sunflowersqadmin.jp.

yn yln — apt. 444 ; 11th floor.

( art deco by lana del ray // pressed flowers // knowing it's for the better // glitter on the floor )

runs the super freak tattoo shop and routinely cries over the two headed calf as if it were her own child. has a pinterest board named "poems that made me cry on my kitchen floor" and when she has a bad day, scrolls through it to make it worse.

has a cat called coochie and the name has been subjected to many, many, many debates held by her social circle and her only argument has been that it is synonymous with pussy.

would've happily dated sukuna had he not called her baby ugly and lowkey felt it when yuji said that sukuna and her act like a bitter divorced couple who never even dated.

has an nth number of tattoos and piercings and doesn't remember how she got most of them and at this point, she's scared to ask. (she isn't allowed to drink more without supervision anymore because she almost got a face tattoo the last time they all went clubbing.)

sukuna ryomen — apt. 609 ; 12th floor

( ivy by frank ocean // wilted flowers // pink dye // finding escape in escaping )

runs the flower shop, "i'm so thorny." and has never elaborated why he named it that. he thinks it's hilarious. yuji thinks it's fucking stupid.

hates the girl who owns the tattoo studio below his shop in the commercial block, because a. her demon cat ripped apart his expensive as FUCK dahlias, b. his (half) nephew works at her studio and he cannot stand that betrayal and c. he's tired of explaining that he actually runs the flower shop while that witch with pink bows in her hair is the tattoo artist.

deep, deep down he wants that fucker of a cat to like him so bad but he once pspspspspsps-ed at it and it hissed at him and he's been bitter ever since.

really hates his nephew giving out free flowers every time she stops by their floor; the fact that he keeps those ugly fuckers in stock is completely unrelated.

satoru gojo — apt. 382 ; 9th floor

( christmas kids by roar // getting to know someone again and again // clear blue skies // violet nail polish )

part time model who has way too much free time and makes it everyone's problem. he's temporarily (nanami is working on making it permanent) banned from the building common area without supervision because one very bad day, gojo was bored.

is filthy rich and isn't humble about it. everyone hates having him as their pick in the building's secret santa which is mandatory — thank you, utahime — because he's impossible to shop for solely because of how expensive his daily stuff is.

no one mentions the Thing he has going on with suguru, mainly because they value their peace of mind but it very much is a Thing. everyone is sick of their Thing.

he's also coochie's dad (he sent yn increasing unhinged texts until she agreed to co-parent) but yn refuses to call him anything but a deadbeat because she walked in on him and geto making out and it wasn't even 9 a.m.

suguru geto — apt. 193 ; 9th floor

( smoke signals by phoebe bridgers // broken lighters // if you go, you have to stay gone // purple skies )

is an artist and he's so fucking good at it. has his own art gallery a few blocks away and his paintings are so targeted yet so open to interpretation and he has his own little fan base consisting of girls in their 20s and art students and people seeking god.

has to have a required amount of alone time or lay in bed at least once during the day or he starts to follow through with the various threats he has made. (once gojo tried to annoy him but setting alarms on geto's phone to go off every 5 minutes and the next day, gojo was seen wearing a bucket hat that seemingly stayed glued to his head. everyone bet on it being a bald patch.)

has a few piercings that he got done by choso and lets yn decide which one he's gonna wear whenever he changes them.

watched the haunting of the hill house and the haunting of the bly manor with the girls and nanami and cried.

utahime iori — apt. 396 ; 10th floor

( falling behind by laufey // alone with their loved ones in the past // cherries // pink and white )

owns the café on the upper ground floor, "we have coffee" and runs it like the navy. the sign outside the glass door says "these freaks are banned" along with a photo of gojo and geto and another picture of gojo with bright blue sunglasses and geto with a neon green wig.

met yn and shoko in university and they've all suffered through the horrors i.e the 20s together.

loves jewellery and gets matching stuff for her girls, yn, shoko and yuki, whenever she can. her favourite the set of matching pendants all four of them have; a kiwi (shoko); a cherry (yn); an orange (yuki) and a strawberry (for herself.)

once brought in nine kittens and managed to keep them hidden for two weeks because they all escaped and she has been mourning them ever since. prime number 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19 and 23 have their own photo album in her phone.

shoko ieiri — apt. 103 ; 10th floor

( last night's mascara by griff // expired makeup // fluorescent lights // forever being eleven years old on that playground with no friends )

teaches biotechnology at the local university and is easily the most liked professor over there. calls off classes because she saw a cat and got lost trying to pet it or because she took too much ibuprofen and can now hear colours; there's no in between.

once went to a couples counselling session with utahime to see how long it would take for the counsellor to realise that they weren't together. the session was over in an hour and a half and they had been advised to talk about their problems and communicate their feelings explicitly. yn has not let this go.

knows the most about everyone in their circle and she's mad at someone, she just casually drops the most insane piece of information and watches everyone argue. everyone likes her.

tried to confess to utahime but she just replied with "thank you!" and shoko doesn't think she can get drunk enough to dissect that interaction or confront her again.

yuki tsukumo — apt. 288 ; 11th floor

( arabella by arctic monkeys // silver jewellery // never existing until someone asks you how you are // animal print )

joined yn's studio because the ad said "hot people with decent drawing skills required + we have a cat" and was hired on the spot after she drew yn a perfect five-pointer star.

tried to bake cookies for her friends one day and managed to cause a blackout. ino still hasn't forgiven her because his essasy was due at 11:59 and his computer crashed and it did not submit; yuki thinks it's his fault for starting to write an essay at 11:27.

has multiple piercings, mostly in her ears and yn and her facetime every morning to decide her earrings for the day.

tattoos yn all the time along with choso. cherries, hearts, stars, dinosaurs, flowers, anything she can think of. her favourite is one with a small cherry shaped like a heart; just like the one on her own middle finger.

choso kamo — apt. 492 ; 12th floor

( strawberry wine by noah kahan // handwritten letters // missing the sunset by a few minutes // choosing to stargazing but it's cloudy )

works at the super freak tattoo shop and has been solely responsible for all the plants around the studio; his personal favourites are christofern, salad and prick.

his texts to yn include photos of plants followed by "look (o゜▽゜)o☆", "yuji asked u to stop by the shop because he has a new combo of flowers for you :D"; "sukuna just called coochie something from pandora's box btw can we slash his tyres ?? !!!!!!!!" and variants.

has a tiny crush on yuki but thinks that yuki and yn have a thing because they're always calling each other very affectionate names and choso thinks that he connected the dots.

sukuna yelled at him for two hours when he learnt that choso started working at the studio part-time and choso went back the next day with cacti and sheer willpower and made his position permanent. choso's mantle photo was placed on the side table by the couch that very evening.

kento nanami — apt. 307 ; 11th floor

( too sweet by hozier // beige and blue // time passing isn't an apology // blueberries )

works in finance. truth be told, no one from the circle knows exactly what his job is or his designation, they just know that he's very serious about his job and that he truly hates someone named "matthew" because of the phrase he often says, "matthew for the love of god — !"

cried when he spent four weeks tutoring ino for his physics paper and he got 3/100.

gojo hangs out so much at his office that they had to put a sign that said "no gojo allowed inside"; the said sign was promptly ignored and nanami had to visit the hr department because of some very interesting words thrown around in his office when he saw jack frost's cousin swirling in his chair.

has only one tattoo but will never ever disclose where it is and what it is.

hiromi hiruguma — apt. 203 ; 11th floor

( lover's grip by them & i // love letters // forced to be the one who got away // banana bread )

has his very own law firm and his office is on the same floor as yn's studio in the commercial block. it's both his worst nightmare and the best thing because the only other choice was next to sukuna's flower shop and he Cannot have that.

his number is saved as "sexie lawyer," "sex c attorknee" and variants in everyone's phone and he has given up on trying to change that.

has a group chat with nanami, shiu and kusakabe and all of them talk so much shit about their work and the other tenants. one time, they were so in deep figuring out the truth behind the divorce of apartment 105 that hiruguma had to make them sign an nda.

since his office is on the same floor as yn's studio, she sometimes hangs out there when she doesn't have any clients and he doesn't have any cases and they watch buzzfeed unsolved.

takuma ino — apt. 338 ; 6th floor

( cherry wine by grentperez // splintered skateboards // but i miss you like a little kid // temporary tattoos )

works as an intern in nanami's company but he might as well be working at the tattoo studio with how much time he spends there. he has his own small desk and a chair in their backroom and he nearly cried when he first found out.

once pulled the fire alarm because he forgot the papers nanami asked him to get and he'd chew on glass before disappointing his mentor. nanami had to make it very clear that he's allowed to forget things but he's not allowed to pull the fire alarm for the hell of it.

he once intentionally placed bread crumbs outside kusakabe's apartment and then procured a few ducks to give the older man a surprise because he insulted ino's hello kitty tank top.

once fell down 28 stairs because there was a double rainbow and he had already downed three red bulls. he regrets nothing.

atsuya kusakabe — apt. 299 ; 6th floor

( softcore by the neighbourhood // fog in winter mornings // i am not a violent dog, i don't know why i bite // cocktails with tiny umbrellas )

no one knows where he actually works; it could either be with nanami or with hiruguma or it could be somewhere entirely different. (it's actually with shiu and toji, he's the head of their marketing department and he has no intention of telling the others where he works lest they bother him there too like they do at his apartment.)

surprisingly likes coochie and takes her to work with him if shiu doesn't have her already. she's their mascot and he'd never admit it to anyone but she has her own small desk with toys and her own name cards.

got forced to dress up for halloween by ino for the party and showed up as the grinch, only to find out that it was just a normal get together and he was only one in costume — he has hated that kid ever since; his hair was green for two fucking weeks.

his most played song on spotify last year was symphony no. 7 in a major, op. 92: iv. allegro con brio by beethoven and shoko gave him so much shit for it that he never ever asked for aux again.

shiu kong — apt. 692 ; 7th floor

( into it by chase atlantic // chevy corvette // always borrowing grief from the future // sunlight on water surfaces )

owns a security firm that he built from the ground up and is probably the most laidback guy ever. babysits coochie when yn goes out and is secretly coochie's biggest fan.

comes from old money but never tells anyone about it outright. casually mentions stuff like "the old manor" or "the private school i went to" and then proceeds to drop the most insane lore when asked about it.

lives in the apartment complex only because he was bored in his penthouse on the other side of the city and watching yn and sukuna argue has got to be the most fun thing here. he once saw sukuna spray yn with water and then proceeded to watch yn push him into the lobby fountain. no, he did not intervene.

has been babysitting megumi since forever and the teen has his own room in his apartment. toji is jealous because his kid actually enjoys shiu's company while he just gets called "shit clown" by his own blood.

toji fushiguro — apt. 375 ; 6th floor

( party monster by the weeknd // half finished whiskey // something other than time that heals all wounds // headlights on the ground when it's drizzling )

works right under shiu at his security firm and does not treat shiu as his boss at all. shiu threatens to fire him every hour but never does. no one is surprised why.

has a fun ton of money due to his job but he's stingy as FUCK. megumi pretended to not know him once when toji had a breakdown over which cereal to take home with him while standing in the aisle.

lives in the apartment right below shiu and calls him when he's out of creamer for his coffee and has shiu pour it from above. yn, who lives right under toji's unit, is sick of them.

will literally never answer his phone, so if someone needs something, they have to either ask someone on his floor to ring his bell (continuously) or go to yn's apartment and throw stones up at his fire escape. (shiu banned them from his apartment after ino fell out the window and on the fire escape; on a completely unrelated not, ino is now banned from standing/sitting/laying down/dilly-dallying/attempting to catch pigeons near any window without adult-er supervision).

[whoredyceps]

"OH LOVER BOY!" || 28 Days of Love: A Valentine's Challenge + Series

day twenty-one: love letters

ᰔ pairing: marcus acacius x reader

ᰔ summary: you feel yourself going stir crazy while the general is amidst a conquest in the name of rome. when the bounties of his success are returned, you receive your own reward.

ᰔ author's note: i love marcus acacius but historical accuracy is like a ghost that haunts me in the night. the curses of a degree in history. just know if it isn't accurate, i already grieved over it.

ᰔ content warning: very brief mentions of war and death

"Have you heard? They have sent the bounty from the last conquest."

You looked up from the meal you ate in one of the local taverns. It was a busy night, wall to wall with others who sought a warm meal or company. For yourself, you only hoped to escape the quiet of your home.

Marcus had been away on a conquest for months. After a few weeks, you weren't about to take the quiet anymore. Even when he was home, there was a quiet over the domus. It was comfortable, still filled with the buzz of life that you two brought to it.

Without him near, all you heard was the stark silence that came with every empty room. At least in the tavern, you lost yourself in the conversations around you. As you ate, you continued to listen to the conversation that happened at the bar near you.

"I have. I hear they've brought back enough fruit to supply every party hosted by the emperors," the other patron sneered. You rolled your eyes, though you were sure it was true. The greed of the emperors was no surprise, no hidden agenda.

"Amongst other things. I also heard they've brought back something insidious— supposedly, a creature with-"

You put down the gold coin and took your leave. That had been a sign that it was best to head home for the night. While the taverns were good for the company, the tall tales spun around were enough to send you back to the silence.

One of the guards escorted you back to the domus, per Marcus's orders. While he was gone, you were always in the presence of a guard from the moment you left the domus to the moment you returned. Few were stupid enough to try and harm you, but he preferred to have measures taken. Not that you minded, considering what you witnessed in the taverns and bathhouses.

You shedded your cloak as you entered the large wooden doorways of the domus. The candles had been lit, a welcome gesture to return home to. You hoped soon enough, you'd be the one to light the candles when Marcus returned from his business in the city.

"This arrived for you." One of the servants approached you with a scroll of papyrus. Your eyebrows knitted together, though you still accepted the roll.

"May I ask who it's from?" You had no family, and those who knew of you did not have the ability to reach you here.

"It was sent in with the cargo. It was sent with clear instructions to be handed to you," they explained.

You felt your heart flutter. As you turned the scroll in your hand, you noticed the Acacius crest in the wax seal. Carefully, you popped the seal and opened it. There were multiple pages written, all written front and back.

"Thank you." You dismissed the servant with a nod of the head before you took your leave. You practically sprinted to your room to retire for the night.

Once settled in bed, you finally lit a candle and began to read what Marcus had written.

Each letter was carefully written, the penmanship legible and the ink barely smudged. Marcus took such care with the craftsmanship to make sure you were able to understand what he had written.

He began each letter with an update on what had happened since the last time he wrote. You followed along as Marcus recounted the details of his victory, how he had lost many men and he would ensure their death would not be for naught. Even through his words, you felt the ache in his chest, the way he struggled with the death of every solider he led into battle.

He told you of the things he saw while they traversed through new territories. The lush springs and arid deserts that greeted himself and his men. You read each word with baited breath, as he told stories of what he had faced.

The end of each letter, four in total, finished with a proclamation of love that moved your heart and soul. They ended with a promise that Marcus would return, and when he did, he'd hold you and kiss you until neither of you could stand it any longer.

'Every night, I see the stars from my tent. I wonder if you look at them when I do. We see the same sky, vast and never ending. The moon shines bright— it reminds me of you. When I wake in the middle of the night and look around, its beam always leads to you. Now, I am met with the shine of sand and its vast emptiness.

Everywhere I go is empty. Every part of me is empty when we are apart. I do not sleep, but when I do, all I see is you. My eyes close, and I am back in your arms. The end war that is waged is over.

I love you. When you look at the stars tonight, think of me. I will be thinking of you.'

The end of the last letter had you in hysterics. You had to put the bundle of papyrus on the stand before your tears ruined the ink. You crawled out of bed to sit in the arch of the window.

You looked up at the stars, each one shimmered and winked in the sky. As you counted, you hoped that tonight, Marcus looked up to. Even thousands of miles, days away from each other, you were still connected by the stars.