#chapter 5 is like wrapping all this stuff up and i just get a little sobby every time i finish a scene im not okay actually

[cloud-somersault]

i was working on chapter 5 and almost started crying????

[novemberheart]

{overview} It is finally time to meet Simon.

{warnings} Female reader, a/b/o dynamics

Chapter 3 <- Chapter 4 -> Chapter 5

The cafeteria was nice. Each corner had an area to get food. Two of the corners were offering the same thing, burgers or pizza along with some sides. Kyle explained one corner was for specialized food or allergies and the other corner was for drinks, vending machine snacks, and desserts. You decided on pizza, with fries, a fruit salad and some water.

John carried your tray for you.

It was interesting to see how people reacted to them. They moved quickly out of their way, staring at you in slight disbelief. You could pick out a few omegas just by the way they looked, none of them seemed very friendly.

As you sat a purr erupted from a nearby alpha at your scent. To your surprise Kyle was the first to react, quickly moving between the two of you, a commanding growl leaving him before you could even begin to feel unsafe. Kyle didn't even need to look over his shoulder at the alpha. A beta overpowering an alpha with just one noise wasn't something you got to see every day. It was clear why people steered away from them.

Lunch was relatively silent, most of the conversation between Kate and John was about logistical stuff. She asked if he had looked over the files she had sent him concerning things about you. He nodded, quickly recalling your birthday, where you were born, and your height.

“I didn't even know I had a file,” you added absentmindedly.

“I'll show it to you sometime,” John promised.

After lunch, Kate began to bid her farewells. You gasped softly, your hand instinctively gripping onto her arm.

“We’ll give you two a minute,” John said, leading Kyle around the corner with him.

“Don't you feel a bit better?” Kate questioned. You shook your head.

“Can't you stay for a bit longer?” you practically whined.

“Honey, I'll still be here on base. I just need to finalize some paperwork. I'll call you tonight to check on you, promise.” Her tone was soft like you were a frightened alley cat.

“I don't think I'm ready to be alone with them. What if something happens?” You pleaded, the smell of lemons starting to flow off of you.

“None of that,” she whispered encouragingly. “Remember what we talked about in the car. Nothing will happen to you. I would never put you in harm's way. Now be the good little omega I know you are, okay?” She ran her hand up and down your arms to ground you.

With a slight wobble of your chin, you finally agreed. Giving her a tight hug, you took a deep breath and rounded the corner where John and Kyle were resting against the wall. You wondered if they had heard you. You gave one last look back at Kate who gave you a tough ‘you can do it’ glare.

“Ready?” John asked, causing your attention to go to him.

“Yeah.” You said softly.

Medical was a daunting place. It smelled sterile, and the air was blasting to filter out all the different scents going on. The lights were bright and the furniture sharp and clinical. As you walked you couldn't help but move a bit closer to Kyle. You went up then around then up again before you finally stopped.

“Tavy.” Kyle greeted. You didn't move from your place behind Kyle. Kyle handed him a wrapped-up burger he had taken from the cafeteria.

“Thanks, mate.” His voice was deep, just like all of them. It held a pleasant growl in it that sent a shiver up your spine. “Where’s the pup?” you heard him ask. Kyle looked over his shoulder at you, a gentle smile on his face. He took a step to the side.

He was handsome, of course. Although it wasn't the first time you had seen him he looked even better here, despite the harsh lighting and obvious lack of sleep he's had.

“Pretty thing aren't ya?” His tone wasn't condescending or even malicious. It was sweet, sincere, and softer than before like he knew you were on the edge of being startled. “How was the drive-in?” it was the first normal question you had been asked since your arrival.

“Good, thank you. Started to rain pretty hard,” you answered. He offered you a small smile, before plopping down in a seat. He patted the one next to him, prompting you to sit.

“John Mactavish. But most people call me Johnny." He didn't want you to call him ‘Soap’. Soap was who he was out there. You weren't to be associated with that. You introduced yourself softly. He dug into his burger asking you questions throughout. Kyle sat next to you, while John decided to step into what you assumed was Simons's room.

“Where are you from?”

“What do you like to do?”

“What’s your favorite color?”

It was all surface stuff but it slowly began to etch away at your nervous scent.

“Kyle was right, you do smell good,” Johnny smirked. You could feel Kyle tense from next to you. You shifted in your seat a bit embarrassed.

You don't know why your scent is extra powerful. It always has been even when you were little. It was one of the things that gave away your status before you had even grown into it. All the doctors you've had haven't been able to figure it out either. You would just chalk it up to luck but you weren't quite sure it made you lucky.

John stepped back out of the room.

“He's asleep.” He sighed, running a hand down his face.

“He woke a bit earlier. Wasn't angry, just grumpy but that's normal, aye?” Johnny chuckled.

“Do you want me to go in?” You spoke up. You weren't stupid. You knew the main reason you were here was for this very reason.

“Only if you feel comfortable,” John checked. You swallowed down the nerves that Johnny hadn't fixed yet and got out of the hard blue seat.

“You’ll stay right outside?” you asked, focusing your attention on Kyle. He was the one you felt the most comfortable with at the moment. He quickly nodded his head, moving to sit in the seat closest to the door.

“You'll be fine, yeah? He wouldn't hurt you, even in a dazed state.” Kyle assured, giving you the last little bump you needed.

You slipped inside the door, closing it quietly behind you. The man was massive. You could see that even from the door, his hulking frame taking up all of the hospital bed. His chest rose and fell softly. He wasn't hooked up to any machines, but his bones seemed heavy. He must be pretty medicated. You took a seat next to the bed.

You weren't quite sure what to do. There wasn't much to look at. He had a medical paper mask covering the bottom part of his face. He had dark ginger hair and light lashes. You wondered what color his eyes were. Maybe a green? Or maybe brown?

Suddenly the door opened. Your head whirled around to see John still standing there stepping out of the way for a nurse. She closed the door behind her. She smelled heavily of pheromone blockers. She must've just put some on before she entered.

“You must be his omega?” She hummed softly in greeting.

“Oh well-yeah.” You decided it was best to just agree.

“You must be new around here. I usually work up in the Omega ward and I've never seen or smelt you before.” She chuckled softly.

“It's true I am new to this. All of this.” you sighed your eyes wracking across Simons's large frame. “You wouldn't happen to have any pointers would you?”

“Are you two bonded?” she asked, making you shake your head. “I figured. Well if you were bonded, physical touch is usually what's recommended. I would project your scent and talk to him. It sounds silly but I also think patients can listen to you even when they aren't entirely there.” She explained, taking his temperature. “Low grade fever. That's progress.” she sighed, writing it on a chart. “Let me know if you have any other questions, hun.” She smiled at you warmly before heading towards the door.

You slumped in your seat, eyes still trained on the rising and falling of his chest. “Probably have a fever because you're all covered up,” you muttered. You stood, working slowly at pulling the blankets away from his shoulders and down to his stomach. “Nice tattoos.” You complimented. You grabbed a hold of his hand, lifting his arm so it was above the covers. You moved around the bed doing the same to the other side. “Should also have a cool towel on your head.” you groaned, looking around the room. You went into the bathroom, found a small hand towel, and ran it under cold water.

You hesitantly placed the cool towel on his forehead. You half expected his eyes to snap open and attempt to take a bite out of you. Instead, a gentle rumble shook his chest- it felt almost like a thank you.

“You’re welcome,” you replied in a whisper with a short smile on your face. The rumble disappeared as soon as it came, but you got the meaning behind it. With a sigh, you plopped back down in your chair. “I’m here for you, y’know.” You don't know where it came from, but it suddenly felt easy to talk to him. “They are all worried about you. They all have bags under their eyes and they take turns keeping watch outside your door. So I hope you're working on getting better and not just taking a holiday. Even though I'm sure you deserve one.” you added.

“You don't look like a Simon either. Not that I can see your face all that good. Don't worry I won’t take off your mask.” You assured him even though it was eating you away wanting to know what he looked like. “You seem more like an Axel or Diesel. Something tough. Not that Simon is bad.” you rambled. “When I was little I had a hamster named Simon. He lived quite a while, but he passed away after my dad slammed a door a little too loud. Poor thing.” you muttered, resting your feet against a small ledge below the bed. All was quiet.

‘Project your scent.’ the nurse's words repeated in your head.

“If it's too overwhelming, twitch or groan or something,” you warned. You shut your eyes imagining your scent as a soft white light escaping your form. It was something they taught you at your omega-holding house. The room began to fill with the smell of peaches and vanilla. You wondered if Simon would have a similar reaction to John. You didn't have to wait long to find out.

It wasn't exactly a growl but it wasn't a purr either. It was baritone and instantly made your omega swoon. You tried your best to ignore it and just focus on the task at hand. You continued projecting for another minute, before deciding to stop before it became too much for either of you.

The gravelly rumble continued. What surprised you was the accompanying scent. It was a smokey leather with an end note of black licorice. It was warm, masculine, and slightly overpowering.

“Touché.” you sniffled, scratching at your nose. It wasn't a bad smell, you just weren't used to male alpha musk. All the men you knew were omegas and betas. It also seemed wearing scent blockers was popular at the base. You couldn't blame them, all the different scents in one space could drive even the most trained people insane.

“Don't dish it out if you can't take it.” it was strained and crackly. You sat up in your seat, watching for his next move.

“Do you want me to get someone? A nurse? John?” you questioned lowly.

“No.” he groaned. “Just give me a minute.” he rasped.

“Okay.” you breathed, sinking back down into your seat. You suddenly realize he must be thirsty. You remember seeing some refreshments by the door. You grabbed a paper cup filled it with water and finished it off with a bendy straw. “I'm going to lift your mask just a tiny bit for the straw.” he didn't disagree or pull away. Your fingers trembled slightly. His lips were chapped. Maybe later he would let you put some chapstick on him. Your eyes crinkled at the thought.

You held the straw up to the corner of his mouth and he finished the cup in two gulps. “More?” you asked softly.

“Please.” his voice didn't sound as hoarse. This repeated two more times before he finally began to feel satiated. “Thank you,” he muttered. He had yet to open his eyes. You gripped the corner of the mask pulling it back down. You also flipped the cold towel on his head to the other side. His brows relaxed as the chill began to set in.

“You know my name?” he asked suddenly.

“Simon,” you responded quickly. “My name is”-

“I know your name, pup.” he cut you off. “Johnny and Kyle haven't shut up about it.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Depends if you like having your ankles nipped at.” he had a smirk in his voice. You giggled quietly.

A few moments passed of comfortable silence before you decided to push your luck.

“Can I ask what happened to you?” You asked hesitantly.

“You just did.” He responded bluntly. “Don’t remember too much honestly. I remember hearing an explosion, feeling hot then feeling the floor disappear from under me.”

You winced.

“That must’ve been scary. I’m sorry.” You said sincerely. His lashes fluttered open. Brown. His eyes were brown. But closer to the golden end of the spectrum.

“My fault. I signed up for it.” he sighed.

Hi friends! Hope you are enjoying the series so far! See you in two days for chapter 5!

[futureplayboibunnie]

Heartless Pt.1

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

okay i’ve redirected this fic and made it into a slowburn multi chapter series, in hindsight my last idea was too abrupt. i feel like this storyline is wayyyy better. I LOVEEEE SLOWBURN. i hope ya’ll like this one better! Part 2 up now!

PS. if you don’t like this type of stuff, don’t be stupid and comment on it because I really don’t care enough to hear it, use ur fingers and scroll. it’s not that hard.

You thought your wedding day would've been more romantic than this.

More personal, more involved, a consolidation of the many moments you shared with the man you were going to love forever, but free will and liberation were something that you gave up when your parents decided that it was in your family's entrepreneurial interest to participate in a partnership with the O'Hara Dynasty.

You weren't mad. It was just...different. You knew this day was coming but it was all wrapped together quite nicely, in a neat little bow.

Everything was done with the utmost sensitivity and respect, the O'Hara family's Consigliere placed piles of paperwork in front of you, NDAs were rarely ever necessary, and guns and fists normally did the trick but Miguel personally wanted all of this to be clean. He was getting married for the sole purpose of extending his power and influence, being a part of the 5 Families in this city wasn't something that was done without shedding blood. And Miguel shed a lot. This was a very important occasion to him, marriage was important in all generations of his family, and almost every single Don arranged a marriage with a woman from another Dynasty just for the purpose of spreading influence and agendas. Miguel and his brother talked for hours about it and in the end, he had to do what was necessary for his family and his capos. He needed to conserve what was his whilst also inserting his power.

Dealing with ill-tempered men and being a sounding board for their last scraps of sanity wasn't new but Miguel wasn't that. He was just silent in a way you didn't like. It was almost unsettling. Maybe it would be easier to hate him if he was an asshole, but he was very kind and respectful in the little words he said to you.

All of this was strictly professional, a beautiful show for the underworld. It was ridiculous and you felt like a fool, and after the day you had, it felt perfectly reasonable to feel that way.

It was your wedding day and word got around fast.

The dress he picked was fine.

The ceremony was fine

The ring was fine

Everything was just fine.

Now you were in his cold, lavishly destitute penthouse at an ungodly hour, sitting around, still in the wedding dress that you haven't taken off for some reason- maybe to compensate for the fact that you'll throw it in a corner, leave it in the cold and black dark, collecting dust for you to never see it again. Miguel's capos had to scamper around and follow you just about anywhere but for once, they left you alone with Miguel shooing them out.

Is this what your life would be like? Sitting around, waiting for something to happen? Was everything meant to be so banal and grey?

“You looked lovely today.” A low voice grumbled behind you, you whipped your head around to see Miguel leaving his study and entering the living room, he was still wearing his tux with that unknotted ugly bow tie that was crooked the whole ceremony. He looked tired. You gave him an agreeable smile in response.

"Thank you.” You said politely, there was just nothing purposeful behind your voice. All there was between you and Miguel was agreeable conversation, polite and meaningless drivel to distract from the very true and real fact that you were betrothed, you both owed each other something. Miguel gave you protection and you gave Miguel his pathway to influence- it was a business transaction, that was all, but it didn't mean that all of this wasn't abnormal. “I can't reach the zipper, can you please zip me down?” You asked as if it was a normal question- it wasn't for your kind of relationship but what the hell was normal nowadays? For Christ's sake, you were married to a man you barely knew and you slept in different rooms.

Miguel approached you in silence, watching you stand up from the couch and turn around. He liked the dress, he picked it out himself, you looked nice. His fingers found the zipper and pulled down slowly, watching the slivers of skin appear with every small tug down.

As far as women go, Miguel wasn't really that interested in sleeping around, every woman he shared himself with became a target or an opportunity pry into his head- he didn't want anyone messing with his internal affairs. Sometimes he'd cave and fuck one of the women serving him drinks at private poker nights, they always made eyes at him, begging him with fluttering eyelashes and wet lips to fuck them senseless. He was a man after all, sometimes it was enjoyable, sometimes it wasn't, he just needed to get off.

You on the other hand, you were unreadable in a way that he didn’t know how to approach.Though sometimes he did find you talking to him like an acquaintance vaguely irritating he would definitely be a hypocrite for calling you out.

It felt like you were holding your breath when he was finished, you settled baxk into your senses, he gazed over the patch of skin peeking out of your dress. He stopped his gawking when you turned around and gave him a weak smile like you would a friend or a neighbour. "Thank you. Goodnight Miguel.” You walked passed him and went to your designated room. Miguel did the same

You never really thought of yourself as an incurable romantic, but this was truly dull and you contemporary marriage like this. Even if it was to one of the most dangerous men in the city.

-

You awoke to a cacophony of sizzling and rustling noises coming from outside your room, your dreary eyes lulled by sleep couldn't fight against the delicious smell wafting from outside. Before you could fully register that breakfast was being made, the first thing you noticed was the heavy feeling of dread resting on your chest, you raked a tired hand over your face and rubbed your eyes awake. Opening them up fully, you saw the white fabric on the floor. In another life, the husband you actually loved would be laying next to you, whispering sweet nothings. Your wedding dress and veil were strewn about as if it was an article of clothing a teenage girl would carelessly discard while figuring out what to wear for a date with Tommy or Billy or Jason or whoever. But this wasn't high school drama, this was the type of life you were conditioned into.

Blood, war, and money.

You weren't complaining, the protection it offered you was immense. Miguel was a corrupt man dealing with equally corrupt politicians and people of interest, he had to adapt in his work but a part of you didn't believe he was the poisonous person everyone always made him out to be. Maybe it was because you hadn't seen him in his raw, primal ways, beating people bloody. That's what made you weary.

You shifted up and headed over to the walk-in wardrobe. This was the part that really stunted you, Miguel wanted you to wear what he specifically liked, everything was picked out by him and you still didn't know how to feel about it, but it made you grimace. You stepped in and glanced at the hangers, they were all ordered out by color and style. You noticed that he seemed to like satin and silk, and he was very particular about color, he liked black, silver, grey and even a baby blushed pink in certain articles. Your fingers grazed over the silk of the nightwear dresses, and the fabric of the gala dresses- you didn't like the idea of having to play pretend in front of too many people. You idled towards the drawers and wondered what he preferred when it came to underwear. You raised a cynical eyebrow and your lips pursed in curiosity as you let your finger pull it open.

Your mouth unhinged in a surprise you expected, but not in the way you thought of. He definitely had a thing for lingerie. God, there was a pair of everything, lacy, strappy, padded, unpadded, sheer garters, sparkly garters, knee highs, thigh highs. He was very particular indeed. It was tailored to your perfect cup size. Fucking hell. He liked Brazilian underwear but he seemed have an affinity for a thong too. You sighed and closed the drawer, you didn't want to read into it. Your eyes wandered to the muted pink silk robe hanging next to the drawer. Hm. That'll do for breakfast.

Miguel looked up from his newspaper to see you padding barefoot to the table where a spread was laid out. His maid, although young, ditzy and so obviously desperate to fuck him, was a very talented cook but the coffee she made always tasted like dirt. “Thank you.” He said to her plainly, he couldn't even look at her due to him being distracted by your presence. Your face creased into a light frown as you stared at the eye candy handing Miguel his coffee before she left as Miguel waved his hand. Of course the women who worked around him had to be insanely beautiful.

“Good morning.” Miguel grumbled before taking a sip. You were wearing the silk robe he liked. Good. Good girl.

You didn't say anything back, acting aloof and nonchalant seemed to be the only way of conserving whatever sanity you had left. The back of your throat had back drool when you stared at the delicious spread in front of you. You didn't know what you wanted to eat first. You grabbed a few pickings of everything, topped off with a mimosa. You ate in polite silence, minding your business, uninterested in anything he had to say at this point. Miguel settled down his newspaper and glared at you, you weren't particularly bothered by his presence, and that made him...unsettled. It went on like this for a solid few minutes.

“What?” You asked him, not even giving him the decency of looking him in the eye. Miguel was silent for a moment, contemplating your presence before he opened his mouth.

“We're leaving the city tonight.” He said oh so casually in that deep, low voice of his.

"And why is that?”You sighed tiredly, a slightly amused smirk twitched at your lips at this out-of-the-blue statement.

Miguel clicked his tongue and cooed at you, “Because cariño, my Consigliere has informed me that our marriage is not boding well with the other 5 Families, they think it's a covert attack in some sort of way, a questioning of power or sorts. And also..” He cut himself off for a reason unknown to him. “He also thinks it's a prudent idea to have a honeymoon, to hone everything in and make this...real.” He murmured as he rolled up his shirt sleeve.

Your eyes pricked up at the word 'real.' Wasn't this real? The papers were real. The ring was real. But the actual connection…? You glowered at him, your eyes narrowed.

“Do you think this is real?”

Miguel didn't know how to answer that. “Isn't real relative?”

“No.” You replied thickly like you didn't even need to think about it.

“Look. I don't want to discuss this.”

“So you can't compromise.” You shot back.

“No, I won't.” He pushed his chair back aggressively and sat his coffee down hard, he looked irritated by all of this. He didn't like that you thought you had the power to interrogate him.

Miguel walked past you as he went to exit the room but then for some reason he halted in his tracks. Compromise. Miguel is not known for compromising. The people around him know that for a fact, but he doesn't want this marriage to be another agenda that he has to put up with. He didn't want to hate you.

He sighed.

“Choose where we go. Tell my brother and he'll tell my pilot.” Miguel said coldly, his tone clipped and gruff even when he was trying to build a bridge of some sort.

It didn't seem like you had a choice, so now you were just another lackey he ordered around.

[wosoamazing]

Team Bonding Night

Part 5 - Fire on Fire Series A/N: I do have up to chapter 14ish of this pre-planned however if anyone has anything they might want to see in it please let me know and I will try to include it in here somewhere, if I don't already have it included.

Tonight was team bonding night and you decided that you would start the year right and offer to hold the first team bonding of the year. Stina and Frida came over and helped you set up. It was decided there would be a few games of pool before a movie. As all the girls arrived there were plenty of comments about how fancy your place was and how your parents must be rich, they were all light hearted and really just jokes but unbeknownst to everyone they all hit a nerve, but you had prepared for this and so you just ignored it, knowing that the girls meant nothing.

You had just performed the break shot for the last game of the night when Leah came up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist as she rested her chin on your shoulder. You were almost expecting a comment from someone or even at least a look from Beth, who kept teasing you about ‘your very close friendship with Leah’, at Leah’s actions however no one batted an eyelid. But it was most likely because Leah was known for her hugs and hugging people, so much so that it didn’t even surprise you when she did it.

“Hello,” you said as she turned her head so it rested on your shoulder, “as much as I appreciate this it’s almost my turn again,” you informed her, she just hummed before letting you go. 

The pool game was coming to an end, with Katie and Caitlin having two remaining balls to sink whilst you and Steph were now trying to sink the 8-ball, so Stina decided to start setting up for the movie, opening the door to the gym to get the bean bags.

“Holy Crap, how do you have so many trophies and medals?” Alessia let out, announcing the fact to the whole team, causing you to wish that you could just vanish right there and then, not even thinking about the fact everyone would see them, whilst you were getting ready, to be fair Alessia wasn’t over reacting, you had a large amount of Trophies. With at least one trophy for every football season, and at least two medals per season, plus an assortment of Track & Field and Cross Country trophies and medals, the collection grew pretty quickly.

“Where are they all from?” Kyra asked in awe, “Well school gave us them, if you scored the most goals, and then each season we got medals, and all the cross country and Track ones are school, and then obviously club football too,”

“You got medals and trophies for sport? Like regularly,” “Yeah, at awards nights, we got them for academic stuff too,”

“See that’s what happens when you go to a School like Melbourne Grammar, you’ve got to sit through the several hours long assemblies regularly.” Steph joked, it was something you always complained about to her.

“Isn’t Melbourne Grammar Expensive? Wait but is it true that your parents are also totally rich?” Katie asked, you just slightly nodded as you saw Leah’s eye widen from across the room at the mention of your parents, thankfully Beth diverted the conversation without anyone returning to the topic. 

______

You were sitting on the couch next to Leah as you all watched a movie. At some point Leah’s arm migrated to be around your back with her hand resting on your waist and you had dropped your head to rest on her shoulder.

“You must’ve had a good childhood,” Katie said as she looked around at the photos of you on the wall, you grinning in almost every single one, your Aunt’s by your side for a lot of them. However you hadn’t noticed she was looking at the photos and you thought that she was still on about the whole money thing, but not wanting to make a big deal you didn’t want to say much, so you settled with a simple “sure,” sounding a little annoyed.

“Oh did you never get a pony,” her joke sent you over the edge and so you snapped, you felt Leah’s hand grip onto your wrist as you stood up encouraging you not to do so, but you just ripped your arm from her grip.

“No Katie. I got a Pony. I’m just an embarrassment to the family according to my parents. I was told that football didn't matter, that the thing I was best at and loved was pointless and never going to happen as the family reputation needed to be upheld. I missed my first ever national camp, because I wasn't allowed to go, because it would’ve meant I would miss too much school, and CEOs, CFOs, doctors, professors or board members don’t take days off school. I have never made my parents proud, the more milestones I reach in my career, the more successful I am the more I become a failure to them. So yes, I did have money, and I thankfully had two very kind hearted women who made up for the fact I didn’t have parents, but my life wasn’t and will never be pure rainbows and sunshine,” you felt tears well up in your eyes as you suddenly realised you had just revealed a major part of your past to not just Katie but the whole team, you felt all eyes in the room on you, you couldn’t stay, you felt like the dam would break soon and you couldn’t embarrass yourself further in front of the team, so you got up, you left the room and headed towards the stairs, not knowing what else to do.

You slid down the wall of the spare bedroom upstairs as you dropped your head, holding it in your hands as you began to cry.

Stina had followed you and she quickly came to sit by your side, pulling you into her side.

“I can’t believe I did that, I just, jag bara. Jag tänkte inte och nu vet de alla. Tänk om-” (I just. I didn’t think and now they all know. What if-)

“Y/N/N andetag, ta några djupa andetag” (breath, take some deep breaths), Stina instructed you as she placed her hands on your shoulders, shifting to be kneeling in front of you.

A light knock was heard from the door and Beth and Steph popped their heads around the corner, “Oh sorry, we just thought you might want some water,” Stina nodded her head and they came in, placing the water on the floor next to you.

“Tack,” (thank you) you replied forgetting you weren’t talking to Stina anymore, “Sorry, thank you,” both women nodded and smiled before turning around to head out.

“Will Katie hate me now?” you ask no one specifically, causing the two women to turn around again.

“Y/N, no she won't, if anything I think she feels bad and is worried you won’t like her anymore.” Beth said and you nodded softly.

“Is everyone still downstairs?” You questioned, “No, Leah is letting them all out,” Steph told you nodded as you relaxed a little again, “I should probably go, Kyra will be waiting for me,” “yeah, Viv will be waiting for me,” “I think I’m taking Frida home, unless you want us to stay,” “No, its okay, I should go see if Leah is still here and apologise to her,” as you walked down the stairs you saw Leah standing in the middle of the living room fiddling with her wrist, you walked up to her.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” You asked and she wrapped her arms around you, to give you a hug.

“No, it’s okay, you didn’t, but I’m sorry for not letting you speak up, I know she was only joking but it still wasn't right.” she said as she tried to pull back, “as much as I would love to stay and talk I think Lia is waiting for me in the car,” you let go of the hug as your mood slightly dropped “oh,” you said taking a step back, “come over for breakfast tomorrow?” “of course” she replied smiling and you returned the smile before she let herself out.

“So,” Steph said as she walked into the room, “That was,” Beth followed, dragging out as she couldn’t find the right word, “Palpable,” Stina said, assisting Beth.

“Please don’t I’ve already told you we’re just friends,”

“Okay,” they all replied with a raised eyebrow before hugging you and saying their goodbyes. 

_______

You were sitting at the kitchen island next to Leah as you ate breakfast when the doorbell rang.

“Oh, I’ll go get that, don’t you dare eat any more of my food,” you looked at her and she smirked, “Leah, don’t,” you instructed her again as you opened the door.

“Oh Katie, hi,” your words were enough for Leah to get up out of her chair and come over to where you were at the door.

“Erm, hi,” the Irish woman said, “I just wanted to apologise for last night, I erm, I shouldn’t hav-” “It’s okay Katie, you couldn’t have known and I’m sorry for snapping at you, I, well some stuff is going on with my family, more my parents currently, so it’s just something that is currently a sensitive topic, usually it doesn’t bug me,” you cut her off, “Erm, okay yeah, sorry,” she said still kind of awkwardly, “It’s okay,” you reminded her as you pulled her in for a hug, “you’re welcome to join us for breakfast if you want.”

Katie took you up on your offer and so you, Leah and her all had breakfast together before driving to training.

[pretzel-box]

CHAPTER 5 | Masterlist for AASB here!

Tags: Threats, Violence, not proof read

Words: 5k

Authors Note: I had to rewrite it all in the middle of the night. It's not proof read and can have logic issues, weird sentences or mixed up stuff.

Working with Sebastian was a challenge in itself, a blend of relentless demands and looming danger. His form of labor was relentless, and unfortunately for you, that meant being handed all the menial tasks he didn’t care to do.

"Files," he growled, his focus on the broken flashlight in his hands. The odd position of his hulking figure and the delicate way he maneuvered his claws around the tools was fleeting, yet striking. For a moment, you caught a glimpse of something softer beneath the brutality, but it vanished as quickly as it came. His head snapped toward you, impatience flashing in his eyes.

“You either sort the files or I take them and stuff them into your silly little mouth to gag you. Then you can spend the rest of the day suffocating in the locker."

Threats were his specialty. He was creative with them, always finding some twisted, violent edge to keep you in line. If there was one constant in your work with Sebastian, it was the looming sense of his brutal tendencies, always just beneath the surface.

Working with Sebastian wasn’t just about completing the tasks he shoved your way. It was about observing him. Getting to know the man he never wanted you to see. He shut you out—always. His words were sharp, often wrapped in a threat or some dark humor. Social interaction, for him, was nothing more than a tool, laced with violence. But you learned more about him through what he didn’t say, what he couldn’t hide.

He had no friends. You could see the loneliness gnawing at him, eating away like a hungry animal. It was clear in his posture, in the way he worked late into the night, avoiding sleep. That loneliness—it clung to him, scratched at his mind, likely kept him awake when the world quieted. Being lonely, that was something human, something he tried desperately to deny. He told himself he didn’t need anyone. He didn’t need you.

But it was clear he was anxious. You could feel it like a current, underlying everything he did. There was a paranoid edge to him, a mind that had been on high alert for too long. The madness of survival must’ve driven him to do things—things you didn’t want to imagine. His hands would sometimes shake, and his eyes lingered on certain items, fixated, as if they could reveal something to him. He was scared. Just as scared as you were, but neither of you would ever admit it.

For all his threats and violence, you realized that Sebastian wasn’t just your tormentor. He was trapped too, battling the same fears that haunted you.

And god forbid you to address it in front of him. He will behead you with a rusty piece of scrap metal, cutting your limbs and putting them in an old dirty jar to sell.

“Urbanshades finest idiot on sale.”

Before you knew it, he threw a bag at you, the metal in it hitting a part of your leg, making you whine in pain. It will definitely leave a bruise later on, coloring your flesh.

“Stop whining and go get new stuff.”

This was also a common occurrence, he would send you out, but not without a special item. He always placed a metallic bracelet around your ankle. It was one of Urbanshades creation. Simply enough, it will reveal your location as long as you are far away enough from the scrambler on Sebastian’s back. He can track you down himself easily when you are near him but it's another story when you are in another area. He also warned you, do some weird business and he can give you electronic shocks with it. Yet he never did so far, leaving it an actual mystery if he can.

So, in the end, he had two things. Painter and the bracelet.

You hurried out, the cold metal of the vent that he made you use as an exit, biting against your palms as you crawled through it, the sound of your own breath loud in the confined space. The small shaft felt even tighter with each movement, but you forced yourself forward. You had studied the building’s layout just enough to navigate through the vents, at least in theory.

Each turn brought you closer to the hallway on the other side, where freedom—or at least a chance at it—awaited. You tried not to think about the pounding in your chest or the echo of your hurried breaths. The vent rattled beneath you as you moved, but you knew better than to stop. Stopping meant giving up, and giving up meant facing whatever Sebastian had in store for you. And that wasn’t an option.

The moment you saw the faint sliver of light marking the vent cover at the end, you sped up, the desperation clawing at you as fiercely as the metal beneath your hands.

You pushed the vent cover open as quietly as you could and dropped into the hallway, your knees bending to absorb the impact as you fell down a small bit. The air was cool and heavy, carrying the scent of dust and something faintly metallic. Dim, flickering lights barely illuminated the space, casting long shadows across the floor. You stood still for a moment, letting your eyes adjust, your heart pounding in your ears. This was your chance for some time in indirect freedom, but you had to be smart about it.

The hallway stretched out in both directions, abandoned and eerily quiet. You forced yourself to take a slow breath, shaking off the tension that threatened to paralyze you. You didn’t have a plan—just a vague sense that you needed to gather what you could. Anything useful. Most of the things would end up in Sebastians shop, but a few rare pieces would stay in your secret stash. Over the time where Sebastian let you wander around, you started to stash useful items in a small hole inside a wall. It was covered by a large picture of the ocean, so Sebastian wouldn't find it.

You began walking, your footsteps barely making a sound on the cold floor despite the heavy boots that Urbanshade gave you. The first thing you spotted was a drawer left half-open, its contents scattered across a small desk. You rifled through it quickly, pocketing a few items—a worn-out screwdriver, some loose wires, and a small flashlight. Its battery was low, but it would do.

Moving further down the hallway, you noticed a small alcove where someone had abandoned a toolbox. You knelt down, opening it with a soft creak. Inside were tools, some rusted but still functional—a wrench, pliers, and a pair of wire cutters. You stuffed them into your bag, the weight of them reassuring as you planned to put them in your secret spot.

The sound of a distant clank made you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. You held your breath, waiting for any sign that Sebastian—or someone else—had heard you. But after a long, agonizing pause, the hallway remained silent. You exhaled slowly, your nerves stretched thin.

You pressed forward, passing broken machinery, old filing cabinets, and the occasional door that led to rooms too dark to explore. Your hands trembled slightly as you picked up more small items—batteries, a bundle of cables, anything that might help. Each find felt like a tiny victory, a step closer to surviving whatever this place held.

But in the back of your mind, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Sebastian was always watching.

As you continued down the dimly lit hallway, the flickering overhead lights began to pulse more erratically. You barely had time to react before, with a loud crackle, they all went out at once, plunging you into near-total darkness. Your heartbeat quickened as you stood still, holding your breath in the sudden silence. The lights were an indicator for danger, your life was now at risk based on the logic you picked up.

Then, just ahead, a few small lamps on the ceiling began to flicker on, one by one, their pale, cold light guiding you down another hallway. It felt deliberate, like you were being led somewhere on purpose. Warily, you followed the lights, each step quieter than the last, your grip tightening on the small flashlight in your hand—though it felt useless in this strangely guided path. You had the feeling that it wasn't the smartest thing to do and yet your feet carried you through it all out of pure curiosity.

The hallway twisted and turned, eventually leading you to a large metal door that was slightly ajar. You pushed it open slowly, the heavy metal groaning in protest. Inside, the room was massive, the walls stretching higher than you expected. What caught your attention, though, was the far wall, covered entirely with televisions of different sizes, each screen reflecting dim light off the walls.

At first, the televisions remained dark, save for the occasional flicker of static. You stepped closer, unsure if you should be there at all. Then, one by one, the screens started to come to life. Some flashed erratically, while others lingered on a static-filled image before cutting off again. You watched, transfixed, as more screens flickered on, creating a patchwork of glowing light and sound. The images were unclear—just distorted patterns, numbers, and strange symbols.

Suddenly, with a loud hum, all the screens snapped into place, merging into one enormous, seamless picture. The static and symbols dissolved, leaving behind a single, vivid image: a digital face.

An unfamiliar face, though digitized and slightly distorted, stared back at you from the giant wall of screens. Painter's expression was calm but somehow felt more intense, the lines of his digital form flickering ever so slightly as if he were barely holding himself together. His eyes, glowing with an eerie light, locked onto you through the screens.

"Hello," his voice crackled through the speakers, the sound distorted but unmistakably his. "I’ve been waiting.”

Painter’s voice cut through the dim hum of the room, and as soon as the sound registered, your brain was flooded with memories—fragments of conversations, moments of strained camaraderie, the familiar yet unsettling presence of this digital entity. It dawned on you, with a sinking feeling, that this wasn’t just some trick or illusion. This was Painter.

On the surface, his face looked simple, almost innocent in its digital form, but the weight of his presence was suffocating. There was a quiet malice radiating from him, something that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. It was a different kind of danger from Sebastian. With Sebastian, you always knew what to expect—the violence, the threats, the twisted game of dominance. As frightening as he was, there was a predictability to him.

But Painter? Painter was a mystery. The way his eyes glowed from the screens, the subtle distortion in his voice, all hinted at something darker, something more calculating. You weren’t sure what he wanted or what he was capable of. And that uncertainty gnawed at you.

Sebastian wouldn’t kill you—not yet, anyway. You were somewhat useful to him. But Painter... you didn’t know if he operated by the same rules. His digital form meant he could be everywhere and nowhere, watching you, controlling things behind the scenes. You had no idea what his true intentions were, and that made him all the more dangerous.

The silence stretched between you, his digital face watching you unblinkingly from the massive wall of televisions. The room felt colder, the air thick with tension. You swallowed hard, your mind racing to piece together what he wanted, why he had led you here.

"I see you’ve been... busy," Painter's voice crackled again, softer now but no less unsettling. His expression didn’t change, but you could feel the weight of his gaze, as if he was studying you, sizing you up for something yet to come. "Is it fun? Are you enjoying yourself, running around like a little mouse? I must admit…You are truly disgusting."

The question hung in the air, the tone more reflective than threatening. But still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a fine line, teetering between being useful or expendable in his eyes.

“Sebastian let me—”

“Sebastian. Sebastian! SEBASTIAN ISN'T THE ONLY ONE IN CHARGE. Don't think you get a free pass for survival just because he has fun playing with you. You are just temporary, a distraction, a nuisance. Don't you DARE to think that you could wiggle your way to freedom, not when I AM TRAPPED LIKE THIS. YOU WILL NOT LEAVE AS LONG AS I HAVE MY EYES ON YOU. I AM THE ONE THAT HAS YOU RIGHT IN HIS HAND!”

Painter's voice was no longer just unsettling—it was saturated with hatred, every syllable sharp with venom. The usual mechanical distortion of his digital form couldn't mask the intensity of the emotion behind it. His tone, rising and falling with an eerie unpredictability, seemed to buzz with something far darker, something that sent a chill racing down your spine.

It wasn’t just dislike or anger; it was pure bloodlust, raw and palpable, like a knife hovering inches from your skin. Painter hated you with a ferocity you hadn’t fully grasped until this moment. The malice in his voice threatened to reach through the screens, as if his digital form was barely containing the rage inside him.

Yet his tone snapped back, to sweet and innocent. “You see, f r i e n d. You are in d a n g e r. Sebastian is not your savior, no, he will be the one that slaughters you. He is temporarily blinded by your existence, but oh, don't you w o r r y. In the end, he will free me and not y o u.”

You shook your head, trying to push away the growing fear gnawing at you, but it was too late—Painter's words had already dug deep, filling your mind with dread. Your heartbeat quickened, each pulse loud in your ears as his laughter rang out, echoing through the room. It was a chilling sound, distorted and mechanical, yet filled with a sickening glee. The lights flickered erratically, casting strange shadows that made everything seem more sinister.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, the laughter stopped. The screens snapped to black, plunging the room into absolute darkness. For a moment, you stood frozen, the silence pressing in on you like a weight, your breath shallow and rapid as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Painter was gone, vanished without a trace.

You barely had time to process it before the lights flickered back on, as if nothing had happened at all. The room looked the same—the screens were still there, silent and lifeless, the heavy air still thick with tension—but something had shifted. The sudden absence of Painter's presence left you disoriented, unsure of what would happen next.

Your legs felt unsteady as you scanned the room, half-expecting him to reappear, waiting for the next wave of malice. But all that remained was the faint hum of electricity, the room eerily still. It was as if the entire encounter had been some kind of twisted nightmare, one that left you feeling more vulnerable than before.

But you knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

“Did I scare you?” a new voice echoed through the speakers. It was female, calm, and unnervingly polite. “Pardon me, little bunny. Let me introduce myself.”

The voice was different from Painter’s; no malice dripped from it, no distorted laughter followed. Instead, it was sharp, precise, and deliberate, every word measured.

“This is Professor Doctor Sasha Mariya Lazarski speaking, lead researcher of Urbanshade's 4th research department,” she continued, her tone holding a faint trace of amusement, as though she was speaking to a child who had wandered somewhere they shouldn't. “It was quite troublesome to track you down, but I assume you’ve found your target?”

Her voice lingered in the air like a cold mist. Urbanshade. The name sent a chill down your spine, reminding you of things you had tried not to think about—things you wished you could forget. The cold clinical nature of her voice told you this was no casual encounter. She had been watching, waiting, and she was here for a reason.

The silence stretched for a moment, as if she were giving you time to gather your thoughts—or perhaps relishing in the tension she’d created.

"You haven't forgotten your goal, have you?" Dr. Lazarski continued, her voice still eerily polite. "Now, let’s discuss the matter at hand. Since we couldn't reach out to you for a…rather long while…I used the chance to check on our precious little bunny. The scrambler is still on, and we can't have that.”

Her tone shifted, becoming more gentle, almost like a mother scolding her child with an unsettling mix of patience and authority. It was unnerving, the way she maintained that softness, as though she wasn't speaking about something so dire.

“You’ve been quite slippery, little bunny,” Dr. Lazarski said, her voice laced with a faint sigh of amusement. “For a while, we lost track of you. But I know now that’s thanks to him—the device that Sebastian carries, isn’t it?”

Her words settled heavily in the air. You had managed to evade them, temporarily disappearing from their watchful eyes because of that device. The one Sebastian had kept close, something you hadn’t thought much about until now. But now it was clear: that device was the key to everything. And they wanted it—wanted you to shut it down.

“It’s quite clever, really,” she continued, her voice dripping with gentle condescension. “A temporary blind spot in our systems, a little trick of his. But it won’t last, you know that, don’t you? You’ll have to shut it down sooner or later. It’s only a matter of time.”

The calmness in her voice made it worse. She wasn’t threatening you, not directly, but her words made it clear that they had a plan, and you were running out of options. Each second you held onto that device was borrowed time, and they were watching closely, waiting for the moment when you would slip.

“Now, my dear,” she said, her voice almost soothing. “You’ve come this far. Let’s not make things more difficult for you, hm? Be a good little bunny and do what needs to be done.”

That last sentence sent a cold shiver down your spine. The way she spoke, it was as if your fate had already been sealed, as though there was no other option but to follow her lead.

“I have a gift to help you,” Dr. Lazarski’s voice continued, her tone never losing that eerie, motherly calm. “On the third floor is a hallway leading to a temporary research lab. You’ll find some of my old belongings there, including a handy-dandy keycard. You will need it.”

Her words lingered, the promise of a gift laced with something far more sinister. She was offering help, but it was hard to shake the feeling that it came with strings attached—strings that could easily tighten around your neck.

You swallowed hard, the dim light of the room doing little to ease the knot of tension building in your chest. This wasn’t an offer out of kindness; it was a carefully laid path, one that she fully expected you to walk down. The keycard could be a way out—or a trap. But did you have any other choice?

"Don’t keep me waiting, little bunny," she added softly, as if she could sense your hesitation. "Time is running out and your father grows worried. Hate to tell him that his dear child might be…dead!~"

The keycard could be your key to survival—not just to navigate the labyrinth that Sebastian kept you trapped in, but also to open new paths, ones that might lead to freedom. It offered possibilities, but with them came risks. You could bypass the locked areas, gain a step ahead of Sebastian, maybe even find a way out. But you knew deep down, escaping the Blackside was not as simple as finding an open door.

Dr. Lazarski’s voice, soft and coaxing, had made it clear. If you wanted to escape, you’d have to play by her rules, follow Urbanshade’s instructions. There was no room for rebellion, no safe path where you could make a break for it. Escaping meant tracking down Z-13, deactivating the scrambler, and retrieving the crystal. It was all part of their plan.

But there was a grim reality in this twisted game. Completing her tasks might not guarantee your freedom. Even if you managed to find the crystal, shut down the scrambler, and get past Sebastian, you’d still be caught in Urbanshade’s web. They didn’t care about you; you were just a tool in their grander scheme. And a tool could easily be discarded once its use was over.

Still, the keycard was a means to an end, a potential weapon to use against Sebastian if things turned sour. You couldn’t deny its potential value. But each step you took down this path brought you closer to Dr. Lazarski’s cold, calculating grip, and that chilled you to the core.

You took a breath, weighing your options. Whatever choice you made, there was no turning back.

With a deep breath, you moved your feet, leaving the dark room behind. Dr. Lazarski's directions echoed in your mind, the path ahead as clear as it was unnerving. You needed the keycard—there was no other way if you wanted any chance of navigating through the facility or dealing with Sebastian. The third floor, the temporary research lab. That was your target.

As you made your way through the dimly lit hallways, the faint hum of electricity filled the silence. Each step felt heavier than the last, your heart beating in time with your footsteps. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched, that at any moment, something—or someone—could be lurking around the next corner.

The stairwell leading to the third floor loomed ahead, its metal door slightly ajar. You hesitated for a second, glancing over your shoulder as if expecting Painter to reappear or Sebastian to emerge from the shadows. But the hallway remained empty, the stillness pressing in on you.

Pushing the door open, the creaking metal echoed through the stairwell. The climb felt longer than it should have, each step a reminder of how far you were from safety. But you kept moving, determined. Reaching the third floor, you stepped into a narrow hallway, the air noticeably cooler.

This was it.

The lab was just ahead, down the hall where the light flickered sporadically. You could feel a knot tightening in your stomach. Dr. Lazarski’s promise of a “gift” lingered in your mind, and you couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that came with it. But you had no choice now.

You moved forward, ready to see what awaited you.

You stepped into the hallway, the flickering lights casting erratic shadows on the walls as you approached the door to the lab. The air here felt stale, as if no one had been in this part of the building for a long time. Your hand hovered over the handle, and with a soft creak, the door swung open, revealing the research lab.

It looked as though it had been left in a hurry, abandoned mid-experiment. The room was large but cluttered, with overturned chairs and papers scattered across the floor, some of them crumpled and torn. The dim light revealed stacks of old folders and documents, some stained with what looked like coffee, others torn as though someone had hastily searched through them before fleeing. A few cabinets were left open, revealing rows of empty shelves that once held important equipment or files now long gone.

In the center of the room stood a large metal table, covered in dusty instruments—scalpels, syringes, and strange-looking vials filled with murky, discolored liquids. The lab equipment, once precise and organized, was in disarray. Broken glass littered one corner of the room, where a microscope lay overturned, its lenses cracked.

The walls were lined with tall, metal shelves that held rusted equipment and various electronic devices. Some screens flickered with static, while others were completely dead, their once bright surfaces now covered in dust. On one of the shelves, you noticed a row of petri dishes, some of them still filled with moldy substances that had long since decayed.

It was clear that whoever had worked here had left in a rush. Loose cables dangled from the ceiling where overhead lights had once been connected, and a nearby computer screen was frozen, stuck on an error message as if it had been hastily abandoned mid-task.

At the far end of the room, amidst the chaos, was a small desk. On top of it lay what you had come for—a sleek, metallic keycard, sitting on top of a stack of disorganized files. It gleamed faintly in the flickering light, out of place in the otherwise neglected lab.

You crossed the room carefully, your eyes scanning every shadow, every corner, half-expecting something—or someone—to be watching. The place felt wrong, as if whatever had driven them out in such haste still lingered, waiting.

Your fingers closed around the keycard, the metal cool to the touch. For a moment, you stood there, staring at it, knowing it was more than just a key—it was a tool, a step toward something larger, something both freeing and terrifying. But this wasn’t over yet. There was still Z-13, the scrambler, the crystal.

You pocketed the keycard, your mind already racing with possibilities and plans. The lab remained silent, a graveyard of forgotten experiments and lost time. It was time to leave before the ghosts of this place caught up to you. Your next step was a mistake. The floor groaned under your weight, cracking until it gave way, sending you plunging through into a body of water on what appeared to be the second floor.

Green torches floated eerily in the water, their ghostly glow cutting through the darkness and guiding your way. You followed them, each stroke through the cool water feeling heavier than the last, but the flickering lights kept pulling you forward. As you broke the surface, you were met not with relief, but with an unsettling familiarity. The room around you was nothing extraordinary—just another plain office space with bland walls and stark furniture—but the tension in the air was undeniable. You recognized it immediately, every detail, every corner. It was a place you'd been before, a place that held memories you wished you could forget.

Your heart sank as the realization dawned on you: the path you had followed led straight back to Sebastian. The subtle dread that crept over you grew stronger with each passing second, as if the room itself was preparing you for the inevitable encounter. You knew this wasn’t just a coincidence. It never was with Sebastian.

The familiar clanging of a vent being kicked open echoed through the sterile office, the sound reverberating off the walls like a warning. Your pulse quickened, knowing exactly what that meant—you were close. Too close to your so-called "temporary home," Sebastian's shop.

Before you could gather your thoughts, his voice pierced the silence, rough and impatient. "YOU BETTER MOVE BEFORE I DECIDE TO LEAVE YOU IN THE HALLWAY!" His angry scream sent a chill down your spine. It wasn't just a threat; with Sebastian, it was a promise. You knew better than to test his temper—he had little patience for delays, and you were already pushing it.

You hurried forward, heart pounding, knowing that whatever lay ahead wasn’t just another task, but another trial in the long list of dangers that came with being anywhere near Sebastian's world.

"I'm back!" you shouted hastily, making your way toward the vent, arms full with the items you'd collected. You scrambled through the narrow passage, the cold metal pressing against your skin as you hurried to avoid another one of Sebastian's outbursts.

When you finally popped out on the other side, you were immediately met by his towering figure, his presence looming over you like a shadow. His fluorescent eyes, glowing unnaturally in the dim light, locked onto you, their intensity sending a shiver down your spine. "Took you long enough…” he muttered.

"I'm back!" you shouted hastily, making your way toward the vent, arms full with the items you'd collected. You scrambled through the narrow passage, the cold metal pressing against your skin as you hurried to avoid another one of Sebastian's outbursts.

When you finally popped out on the other side, you were immediately met by his towering figure, his presence looming over you like a shadow. His fluorescent eyes, glowing unnaturally in the dim light, locked onto you, their intensity sending a shiver down your spine.

"Took you long enough... bunny," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, yet laced with an unsettling edge. The nickname felt more like a mockery than anything else, a reminder of how he viewed you—small, fragile, and easily caught.

Befriending Sebastian was the exit. Track him down, turn of the device he owns and get the crystal.

"Good work, for once," Sebastian muttered, his voice oozing condescension. His large hand landed on your head, rough and heavy, as he ruffled your hair like you were some kind of pet. The gesture was far from affectionate, more of a reminder of your place beneath him.

"Finally useful for once. And yet, not smart," he continued, his fluorescent eyes narrowing as he studied you. "You could've kept it—used it as a guaranteed exit." His words dripped with mockery, as if he were testing you, waiting to see if you’d flinch or reveal something in your expression.

You kept your face steady, masking the frustration boiling beneath the surface. He wasn’t wrong—you could’ve used the keycard for your own escape, but playing it that way would have burned bridges you couldn’t afford to lose just yet. For now, you had to endure the humiliation, take the hit, and let Sebastian think he was the one in control.

In your mind, the game wasn’t over. You’d make sure the next move was yours.

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 12

Well, this story is complete. I finished it on Friday and will be fully uploaded in two weeks. With chapters 14/15 next week on the 31st and 16/17 on April 7th.

This has been one hell of a ride. I never thought I would ever do omegaverse. But this one just demanded to be written.

TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED

Eddie takes Steve shopping and they go the Grammy's.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

****

Steve loved shopping. It was his favorite thing in the world. He especially loved it when he went with Chrissy or Robin or sometimes even both. But he was finding out that shopping with Eddie was special.

“I’m going to rock your world, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured when they entered the shop.

It was all high end, naturally. But it was the type of stuff Steve would have bought for himself back in high school.

“Eddie...” he whined a little.

It was sweet, it really was. But he couldn’t wear the ‘uniform’ of a omega housewife. Not anymore.

“Just wait, darlin’,” Eddie whispered, “it’s gonna be good.”

Just then a man came over. He was short, barely 5’5”. He had warm brown skin and silver hair.

“Hello, loves,” he said, voice as warm as his skin tone. His accent was the vaguely British of someone who had lived in the United States for a long time.

“Hello,” Eddie greeted, kissing him on each cheek. “Steve, this is Raj. Raj, this is Steve Harrington, he’s a Starcourt omega.”

Raj clasped his hands together. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Steve.”

Eddie turned to Steve. “Raj is a professional stylist. He’s dressed me for many an event and he’s going to help you find your style.”

Steve smiled at him. Because of course Eddie was only trying to help and not make him feel inferior about liking a style that he couldn’t wear.

“Come on, love,” Raj said, “tell me what you like.”

And so Steve did just that.

They spent the afternoon trying on several different combinations and styles that Steve felt like he was a runway model to the crowd of one.

Eddie sat on a big, white, overstuffed armchair and made comments on everything Steve tried on.

Three hours later, Steve was walking out of the store in a navy blue striped polo and tight fitted jeans and several bags filled with clothes of a similar style.

Steve laughed when he exited the shop, twirling around with his bags. Just so happy.

Xander took the bags from Steve and put them in the trunk of the car to keep the bags from going flying.

Eddie pulled him in for a kiss.

“God, you are so gorgeous when you’re happy,” he murmured into Steve’s neck.

Steve hummed. “Well, it’s a good thing that the thing that makes me happiest is you, huh?”

Eddie looked up at him with a tender smile. “Back attcha, big boy.”

Steve wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

“Will I get to see you before the Grammy’s on Sunday?” he asked, softly.

Eddie sighed. “Unfortunately not. I have so many interviews and shit that I just won’t have time.”

“That’s okay. I still have other work I’ve got scheduled this week.”

Eddie kissed him deeply. “You have fun, babe and I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“Bye.”

Eddie watched as the car pulled away from the curb. He had gotten to meet both Robin and Xander, the two people tasked with keeping Steve safe and he found that he loved them both.

And that fact settled one of the worries in his chest about Steve, knowing that his boy was being looked after properly when he wasn’t around.

****

“Troy’s coming,” Robin said, “I’m not asking, I’m telling you.”

Steve glared at her. “He’s creepy.”

“He’s really not,” she defended. “He’s very protective of the omegas in his care and I need a second pair of eyes on you tonight.”

“I don’t see why,” Steve said rolling his eyes. “I’ve done hundreds of events with only one handler in the past. What makes tonight so special?”

“The press.”

Steve huffed. “I literally when to an event for the press with Nancy, how is this any different?”

“Because these aren’t the civilized press, Steve,” Robin said menacingly. “These are the vultures. The bottom of the barrel. Sleazy, gasping, horrible people who will judge you, seek to tear you down, and humiliate you.”

Steve let out a long sigh. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” She kissed his cheek. “Eddie has his own security, but they’ve been coordinating with Troy and me all week. What’s your signal for needing to get out quick?”

“Moving my clutch from my left hand to my right,” he said.

She nodded. That was a good signal. Steve liked his right hand free to shake hands with people.

“What’s your signal if you need to get away from the alpha?” she asked next.

“I take out my earrings,” he dutifully replied.

Again, not something Steve would normally do, so she nodded.

“The code word to get both of you away from someone who is harassing one or both of you is ‘caveat’.”

“As in ‘one of the caveats for dating an escort is to be understanding when something work related comes up’?”

Robin grinned. “Perfect. All right, we’re good to go.”

Steve grabbed his black clutch and matching shawl. It was February in California, but it was still February.

He draped the shawl over his shoulders and walked out to the car.

Troy and Robin got into a white SUV with Troy at the wheel.

Steve slid into his car to find a waiting Eddie.

“Well this is a surprise,” he cooed, sliding up to press himself against his boyfriend’s side.

Eddie chuckled, lifting his arm to wrap around his shoulders. “Benefits of properly courting you, darlin’. Management is letting me know where you live. Ish.”

“Ish?” Steve asked, scenting along Eddie’s jaw.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “The windows were tinted so I don’t know exactly where we are, but I know enough.”

“Ah.”

Yeah, that made sense.

“You look so pretty, baby,” Eddie said, changing the topic. “You look good enough to eat.”

Steve chuckled. “So do you.”

And he did. He was wearing a black suit coat with black rhinestones embroidered into the lapels, with a white button up shirt that decidedly not, tucked into a pair of black slacks. On his neck were several necklaces and chains and his wrists were covered in bangles and more chains.

He had a single earring in his left ear which was an upside down cross.

Steve was enraptured.

“This is all for you, baby doll,” Eddie murmured into Steve’s ear. “I rarely dress up for these things, but I wanted to look good for you.” His hand reached around to cup Steve’s ass. “Especially with you looking like sex on legs in that short dress.”

Steve chuckled. “You keep this up and we’re going end up torturing poor Xander’s ears by having sex back here.”

Eddie’s eyes blew wide. “Shit Stevie, if we didn’t have to be there at a specific time, I would absolutely hold you to that.” And he pulled Steve even closer to him so that the omega could feel the reaction to his words.

Steve couldn’t stop himself from scenting Eddie again.

“Did I tell you that thing the attracted me to you second to you being the sweetest thing,” he murmured, “was your scent?”

Eddie licked his lips. “Right back ya. Together we smell of Christmas.”

Steve giggled. “A little bit, yeah.”

Xander caught Steve’s eye in the rearview mirror and raised his eyebrow causing the omega to blush, ducking his head shyly.

Xander knew something that Robin didn’t as she couldn’t be in the car with him for things like this.

Despite a Starcourt escorts’ reputation for being sex pots, sex wasn’t allowed in the back of the car. Mainly because of the driver, but also because what they did was meant to be higher than just make outs in the back of a car.

It wasn’t a rule, like not giving out their personal number was a rule, but it was a guideline that Steve had adhered to almost religiously. So for him to even suggest jumping Eddie was completely out of character for him.

Eddie raised Steve’s head gently with his forefinger. “You look so pretty when you blush, baby, but there is nothing going on here that you need to be ashamed of, okay?”

Steve nodded.

Just then the car rolled to a stop, signaling that they had arrived at the red carpet.

Behind them Troy and Robin stepped out with Eddie’s two security members. All of them dressed in black suits and ties with pristine white button up shirts.

All of them pulled out their sunglasses and slid them on. Troy walked up to the door and opened it.

Eddie slid out first, waving to the crowd. Then he turned around and helped Steve get out of the car. Steve waved, too, then slipped his hand around Eddie’s arm.

“The first interview is with Vanity Fair, Kayla Brosnahan,” Troy murmured to them. “She’s very fashion orientated so she’ll ask about your clothes first.”

Steve nodded. He glanced at Eddie, who nodded.

They walked up to the beautiful alpha reporter in a long, slinky, red dress.

“Kayla, Vanity Fair,” she said to the cameraman, “here with Eddie Munson, frontman of Corroded Coffin who is up for three awards tonight, and Starcourt escort, Steve Harrington.”

She turned to them. “Wow! You two look absolutely stunning together. Who designed your clothes tonight?”

Steve smiled. “Omega designer, Lola Martinez and the jewelry is by St Giovanni.”

“Wow,” she breathed. “Those are some pretty big names. And how about you, Eddie? Who are you wearing tonight?”

“Jimmy Pantera.”

Jimmy was a known alternative style fashion designer. Chains, leather, denim, studs; basically the metal and grunge scene. What Eddie as wearing would have been very conservative for his collection.

“Very nice,” Kayla said. “I can see it now. Wow.” She turned to Steve. “Have you had any clients cancel on you because you’re being courted?”

Eddie bristled and was about to lay into her when Steve touched his elbow.

Steve batted his eyelashes with a simpering pout. “Oh, Kayla, you know all client information is confidential.” Kayla opened her mouth to say something snide, but Steve beat her to it. “Plus, I don’t kiss and tell. Not like a certain omega who’s been warming your bed.”

Suddenly she was sputtering and back tracking. “Eddie, you’re up for three awards tonight, what are your hopes for tonight?”

“Corroded Coffin and I are very happy to have been nominated for Best Metal Album, Album of the Year, and Single of the Year for ‘Hell’s Lookin’ Better Than Heaven’, but we were disappointed we weren’t nominated for more. Best Metal Performance is a prime example. Even though we made more money then any other touring band last year, we weren’t even considered.”

Again Kayla was forced to back track and try to start over but they had chosen that moment to move on. Kayla turned to her camera and made a slicing motion across her throat to tell him to stop taping.

All the interviews kept in the same vein. They would be chatty, ask about what they were wearing or who they were most excited to see perform and then drop shit like:

“Are you going to make Steve stop escorting once finish your courtship?”

To which Eddie replied, “I’m not so fragile that I need constant validation that my dick is big enough. Stevie is his own person and if he wants to keep working, why would I stop him?”

Followed by back pedaling and Steve and Eddie moving on.

Next asshole:

“Steve, are you angling for a bond to get out of being an escort?”

Steve and Eddie just blinked at him like he was too stupid for words. They just walked off.

Once Troy just moved them past an interviewer calling their name.

Steve looked down and a little behind him. “What was wrong with that one?”

“He’s been sexually harassing omegas that come through,” Troy muttered back. “Making lewd comments, making passes at them, touching them without their consent.”

Steve nodded and Eddie put a protective hand on his lower back. They made it through the gauntlet and into the Radio Music Hall.

They sat down at the table that already had the rest of the band and their plus ones and settled into enjoy the show.

****

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

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Hi :)

So like I said last time, this one might be a little darker than the other, you will kind of learn of Y/N's dark background but I try to put some fluff to make the balance.

I hope you will enjoy it, I puted warning inside the chapter for people who might be bothered by the TW.

TW : Angst, mention of torture (?), domestic violence, mention of smut.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 5 I PART 6 | PART 7

______________________________________________________________

After your first time together, it’s like you opened the floodgates of a churn. You and Leah just can’t resist each other’s call anymore. There’s not a night you’ve spent separately, constantly rediscovering each other’s bodies. You don’t know if this is the expectation you have imposed on yourself talking but you don’t really care about the truth. You’ve never felt so good and confident with someone, Leah even managed to stop making you wonder everyday how you would survive the end of your relationship. Still without a label, by the way.

Of course, sometimes Leah goes out without you at night, finding friends like Alex. You take advantage of these evenings to spend time with yours or to call others who are not in the same place as you. Either you go out for a drink or you end up in Alessia’s apartment, alone with her or with other people. It has become a routine without really being one but it suits you very well like that.

********

"What is it?"

You’re lying on your front with your face on the pillow that Leah usually sleeps on, in her house. Lying on her side, facing you, Leah was sliding her fingers on your bare back. You know exactly what it is, but you feel your heart racing when her fingers stop on a mark on your back. You know that a star is drawn right here, masking one scar under the colors of your tattoo. You hardly swallow your saliva and close your eyes before answering her.

"A scar" you mumble

Behind you, Leah frowns and rises herself slightly, leaning on her elbow. Her fingers slide towards another star, realizing that there is here another hidden scar. Your breathing also accelerated when Leah slipped her fingers on all the stars, all the scars, present on your back.

"What happened to you?" whispers Leah.

You close your eyes stronger, as if this gesture would allow you to escape the emotions that gradually take hold of you. Leah seems to notice your trouble, getting closer to you to wrap you in a comforting embrace. It takes you a few seconds to realize that it works. Her presence serves as a shield against all these negative emotions that usually invade you when you think about this part of your past. That make you breath a little easily.

Leah’s question made you feel like she didn’t need an answer back, which is why you take the time to answer it.

"These are cigarette burns"

A deafening silence takes place in the room and you feel Leah gently detaching from your back. You miss her touch, but she gently turns you on her back, an extra care cutting with the visible fury in her eyes. It takes your breath away.

"Who did that to you?"

Her voice is low with anger. You shake your head and bite your lip. You’ve never felt more vulnerable than at this moment, yet you know you can have full confidence in her. Understanding once again what is happening in your head, Leah gently takes your cheek in her hand and caresses you gently with her thumb, waiting for you to answer.

"It’s in the past, Lee" you answer in a low voice.

Her gaze plunged into yours probes you at length, but she finally nods. You slide an arm around her waist when she lies on you to press her forehead against yours.

"I’ll tell you one day, I promise." you mumble

"Just… I want you to know that I’m here, Y/N. Against all odds, even if it’s a day when we’re fighting over kid stuff. Call me and I’ll be there."

You can't answer anything at that, the emotions way to strong, your throat clenching with them. But Leah doesn't seems to mind, kissing your cheek lovingly and laying her head next to yours. You can feel her starring, but your gaze stay fixed on the ceiling. You don't want to hide from her, but you don't want to scare her either.

"Stop overthinking Cutie"

You smile when you hear her whispers and kissing the corner of your mouth.

"You miss" you whisper back, turning your head in her direction.

Leah smiles back and kiss you full on your lips, stroking your jaw with her thumb. You fall asleep not long after, protecting from the darkness with her arms.

********

The return of the championship in January also announces the return of Leah on the fields. And you couldn’t be more excited to see her play again and especially to play with her. Until now you have only had her as an opponent and she has always given you a hard time. To have her as an opponent only during your training where you end up teasing each time like two teenagers suits you very well.

Leah returned only a few minutes acte the second half, but the cheer and joy of the crowd was worth the wait. Leah’s smile too and since all eyes must be turned towards her, you do not refrain from looking over her. It’s worth a playing elbow from Katie, to whom you pull out your tongue.

Despite the slight worry of seeing her play again, the rest of the game went very well. When the blonde launches into a perfectly executed slid tackle to steal the ball from the opponent, you can’t help but smile.

"She’s back" says an excited Alessia by putting an arm around your shoulders.

"Yeah. She’s back" you answer with a smile.

The party that takes place at Kim’s to celebrate the team’s victory and Leah’s return will certainly earn her some enmity in her neighborhood. Almost all players are present, even those who usually prefer to go home. You found yourself in Leah’s arms at the beginning of the evening, but overall you managed to let her enjoy this evening with everyone.

It’s only when you’re beating Alessia and Laia Codina at the beerpong with Wally as a teammate that the blonde makes her appearance back at you.

"Leah stop" you laugh when you feel her pinching your ribs.

You’ve always been awfully ticklish, something Leah has only discovered very recently. Since then, she hasn’t been shy about abusing it.

"Hey, stop distracting my partner."

Lia gently pushes Leah from you to allow you to throw your ball, but Laia barely drank the liquid inside that Leah finds herself glued to you again, your back pressed against her.

"I need my hugs" Leah whines, wrapping around you like an octopus.

You smile tenderly, turning your head in her direction to put a kiss on her cheek.

"We just need Less to miss twice more and we won" you answer maliciously.

"Hey that's mean!" exclaims Alessia, frowning from the other end of the table.

The truth is that you have to wait three shots instead of two, Alessia succeeding hers but Laia missing the other two.

"Winner winner!" sing Lia

You high five with her, all smiles, Leah still hanging on your back. Laia tries to demand revenge, but it was not counting the intervention of the blonde.

"Oh no! She’s mine now"

And with that she takes you inside, leaving Victoria to help Lia win her second game of the evening.

The hangover of the next day is awful. It's only at 2pm that you manage to get out of bed to go slump on your couch, after swallowing water and tablets that are supposed to make your headache go away.

The struggle seems to be general since soon after, Alessia slips into your apartment with the same tired face as you, a giant paper bag in her hand.

"I made a mistake in my food order, I hope you like Chinese"

It turns out that instead of ordering a pack of chicken skewers, Alessia accidentally ordered 10. After you’ve cleaned them to the best of their peanut sauce, Leah agree to eat some of them with baked potatoes you made for her, Alessia teasing you about you being so whipped. For your part, you gladly help Alessia to reduce her pile of Cantonese rice.

"Lia is alive and Katie and Caitlin too. I’m not sure about Beth though" Leah informs you after throwing her phone somewhere in your couch.

You laugh slowly, finishing your chicken. You end the day watching nonsense on television, your head leaning on Leah’s shoulder while sitting against her and Alessia’s legs lying on your knees. And honestly, this is the best hangover day you’ve ever had.

********

The almost daily presence of Leah in your apartment doesn’t prevent Alessia from coming to meet you as regularly as before. It even happens that you go to her appartment with Leah, as is the case today for a cup of coffee before training. After you finish yours, you get up, dropping a quick kiss on Leah’s hair before you slip away to finish getting ready.

Leah continues the conversation with Alessia for a few moments, before losing herself in contemplation of the bottom of her cup of coffee. Deciding to leave her in her thoughts, Less quietly finishes hers, nevertheless raising her gaze on her friend when she resumes speaking.

"Can I ask you something?" Leah suddenly said.

"Of course"

Curiosity takes hold of Alessia who looks at Leah with an interrogative air.

"Look, I have a question. I know you’ve slept with Y/N.. " Leah begin before interrumpting herself when she sees Alessia’s wide-eyes. "Oh god no. Not like that Less"

"Yeah well because not at all"

Leah rolls her eyes and shakes her head smiling.

"I mean of course she’s pretty but…"

"Ok stop fantasing about my girl and focus please. But I was wondering, did she ever have nightmares when she was with you?"

Frowning again, Alessia looks thoughtfully at Leah, trying to remember this information.

"Maybe once, yes. But I’m a heavy sleeper, it’s not for nothing that I have to set ten alarms before getting up. She woke up suddenly and jumped, that’s what woke me up. Why?"

Leah bite her lip and shrugs, her cup still thoughtfully in her hands. She doesn’t know how open you are to her talking to your friends about your sleep problems, but if Alessia already knows, it doesn’t ok, right?

"I don’t know. She’s got a lot of them lately…"

"Did you try to talk about it with her?"

Leah shakes her head negatively. No, she never wanted to talk to you about it since you usually fall back down quite quickly against her and you go back to sleep just as quickly. And in the morning, you don’t seem to want to talk about it either.

"Maybe give it a try."

"Try what?" you ask when you come back to Miss Russo’s apartment.

"To be on time at training, for once" Leah replies, getting up after glancing at the clock on the wall.

********

TW : MENTION OF TORTURE

You’re lying on a bed where you haven’t been back on in years. The room is more oppressive, more gloomy and unhealthy than you remember. Other than that, nothing seems to have changed. Not even the unpleasant contraction that twists your belly when the apartment door opens and is slammed a few seconds later. Helena’s heavy steps seem to echo throughout the apartment as she makes her way to her bedroom.

You jump when the door opens and you understand in one glance that she is in an awful mood.

"I thought I told you to drop your stupid football?"

The force of her words is equivalent to the door of the room slamming when she closes it. After that, she approaches you to tackle you against the mattress.

"As if you were able to achieve anything good. You're less than nothing, I don't even know what I do with you."

Her icy voice gives you goose bump but you manage to find the strength to answer her, hating the way your voice looks so small.

"They said I’m good enough to join the national team"

"Shut up."

The slap you receive is usual, but still humiliating. Hurtful. You desperately hold back your tears but you become aware of the extent of her anger when she grabs you by the hair to turn you on the stomach. The noise of the lighter she lights and the noise that makes the cigarette pack when she opens it terrorize you.

END TW : MENTION OF TORTURE

"No, please, please!"

"Babe wake up!"

You are awakened by hands on your shoulders, shaking you hard with the obvious purpose of waking you up. When you open your eyes you’re facing Leah’s blue eyes, full of concern and maybe a little of panic.

If your first reflex was to retreat abruptly until you find yourself pinned to the headboard, you quickly regain awareness of reality. You’re with Leah and her blue eyes, not your ex and her icy gray eyes.

"It’s okay, honey, you were having a nightmare. You’re safe, yeah?"

You swallow and nod, trying to catch your breath. Your shirt is wet with sweat and you’re wondering how long Leah’s been trying to wake you up. She asks you about your nightmares two days before and was looking at you since then. Especially when you told her that she didn't have to worry about it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Leah gently asks as she chases a lock of hair from your face.

She doesn’t seem to be bothered by your reaction. You close your eyes and gently shake your head. You don’t want to impose her the world that was yours before. You don’t know why you had this nightmare again, it’s been months since it happened to you. And when it did, you were alone. You never spent the night with your other ex, just afraid that this kind of thing would happen. But, again, you trust Leah. You just don’t want her to learn all the details of what you’ve been through. You’re afraid it will change her outlook on you.

"Hug?"

This time you smile softly, opening your eyes. You sigh of relief as you feel Leah’s arms around you and slide your face into the hollow of her neck. You stay there for many minutes, calming your nerves, until you feel good enough to realize that cuddling someone full of sweat like you are doesn’t have to be very pleasant.

"Do you mind if I take a shower?"

"Of course not" Leah replies simply.

You smile again and push back the sheet that is wrapped around your legs to get out of bed. Just then, Leah gently grabs your chin in her hand.

"Hey" says the blonde softly, her eyes into yours. "Whatever it is, Y/N. I’ll always be there"

Unable to answer her, you just kiss her wrist. This kind of promise reassures you, but also scares you a little. Because the more time passes, the more you get attached to her and the more you risk burning your wings if she decides you’re too much for her. Even if you don’t think about her leaving you everyday, it’s one of your biggest fear.

You let her kiss your temple by sliding her hand on your cheek to tighten against her for a few seconds, before releasing you. You know the way to her bathroom by heart and you know where to find what you need. With time, you know her apartment as well as yours. As much as Leah knows yours. You quickly get rid of your wet clothes and turn on the water, waiting for it to heat up to the right temperature.

In the meantime, you find yourself caught in the spiral of your thoughts, perhaps returning a little too much towards your nightmare. Your eyes are mechanically on the bathroom door when Leah knocks it gently.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course"

Leah’s seen you naked dozens of times, but you appreciate her asking before she walks into the room. It’s exactly those little things that make you realize she’s different from the others. You even give her a sincere smile to which she answers, before you slip under the hot water.

"Need some help down there?"

When you look back at Leah, she has her famous smirk and that playing look that makes you fall in love every time again. You smile again and shrug.

"Maybe I need help rubbing my back"

Quickly rid of her clothes, Leah joins you under the hot water, not giving a care about the fact that it’s two in the morning. You didn’t expect her to take your joke at face value, but you see her grab the bottle of shower gel and put it in her hands before applying it to your back. A gesture perhaps banal for many, but so comforting and intimate that you feel your throat tie.

But you don’t cry, though. You're trying to put your weak moment behind. You close your eyes and sigh, enjoying Leah’s touch and pleasant massage.

When she has finished, you turn around to be able to look at her better. The heat of the water filled the bathroom with steam, but that doesn’t prevent you from distinguishing each of Leah’s features accurately. She looks back for some seconds before you slowly put a lock of her hair behind her ear. The amount of affection, love, you feel for here make your heart ache.

"I love you, Leah. I’m so in love with you."

The surprise lasts a few seconds on her face, before being replaced by a big smile. Different from the one you could see in the photos of the Euro 2022, certainly because it's another emotion that currently inhabits her. But her arms draw you against her and you let yourself going against her very willingly. The way your body seems to fit perfectly with hers will probably never cease to impress you. When Leah talk again, you can hear the emotions in her voice.

"I’m in love with you, too. I love you so much, I wouldn’t even know what words to use to describe it."

Your heart is pounding and you wonder if Leah can feel it against her skin. You lose yourself a few seconds in the vastness of the blue of her eyes before resuming talking.

"If I tell you everything about my past, you have to promise to never tell anyone"

You see Leah hesitating, slightly frowned. You have the impression of being able to read her thoughts and you know that she wonders if she will be able to keep such a promise, according to what you will tell her. You know that some informations will make her angry, scared or sad.

"It’s related to tonight’s nightmare?" she asks before continuing when you nod "And the scars in your back"

It’s not really a question, but you still answer it with a positive nod once again. You already knew she had drawn conclusions in her head, but you don’t know how right or wrong she is. Her gaze studies you for a few long seconds before she sighs, seeming to accept your request.

So you tell her everything.

Your meeting with Helena, your parents' opposition to you dating her, not because she was a girl but because she didn’t seem to be mentally stable enough. You tell her how much you wanted to stand up to them and prove them wrong, then how much you were wrong about her. You tell her about the shame you felt at the idea of asking for the help of your parents, yet so benevolent and affectionate with you. You talk to her about the physical abuse she’s inflicted on you, the verbal abuse, the sequestrations. And when you tell her the final step of the cigarettes she used extinguish on your back, Leah squeezes you so tightly that it would be impossible for the slightest drop of water to pass between your two bodies. It’s the most intimate thing you’ve ever experienced. Much stronger than sex. A silence settled between both of you, only disturbed by the sound of the water and your breaths.

"How did you get out?" Leah whispers, her face on your shoulder, after a few moments of silence at the end of your story.

"Ingrid picked me up. The training camp for the national team was in my city and I had been called. When she learns that I wasn't here without any explanation to anyone, she came to the house and helps me get out of here."

"Ingrid Engen knows all this?"

Leah steps back a few inches to look at you and you give her a sad smile.

"No. Well, she knows that Helena was opposed to me playing football and that I was not happy with her. She picked me up, helped me pack my things and I never saw Helena again from that day on. She never forced me to explain, just to support and advise me when I needed it. She took me back to my parents after that, until I had the contract with Man City."

"Being such a good person and ending up with Maria Leon" sighs Leah, making you laugh. "What a shame"

"We must stop this rivalry with the Spanish players, Williamson"

Leah makes a horrible grimace that makes you laugh again. You feel relieved to have shared this story with Leah, more than you could have imagined. And seeing her react the way you needed to is more than comforting. You feel like a weight was carry out of you.

"I owe her" Leah said after another silence.

"Mapi?"

"Nah, ew." Leah rolls her eyes "Ingrid."

"Why?"

"Because without her, I would never have had the chance to meet you."

A soft smile spreads on your face and you gently kiss your girlfriend. After a few minutes of cuddling under the hot water, you decide to return to the bedroom to enjoy the last hours of sleep before you have to prepare for tomorrow morning’s training. Leah proposes for you to skip it, but you don't want to.

Dressed in an old Leah jersey and underwear, you slip under the duvet and stick yourself directly against Leah when she joins you in her bed. It takes a few moments for you to regain a state of drowsiness and, as often, your mind starts again.

"Leah?" You whisper after a few minutes.

"Mh?"

She seems lost in her thoughts too.

"Would you tell me if everything I just said was too much for you?"

"What do you mean?" asks the pretty blonde while moving so she can look at you.

"I never told you about all this because I was afraid it would impact you too much. Let the… darkness within me invade you and mark you too much. I was afraid to dirty you with all this story"

You see Leah thinking a few seconds before answering you, probably to choose the best words to convey everything she thinks. Despite the fact that English isn't your first language, you have never had problems making yourself understood and vice versa.

"It’s part of your story Y/N, even if I would give everything so that you could go back in the past and escape that part of your story, it contributed to who you are. And I wouldn’t change anything about you. I fell in love with the person you are, with your qualities, your flaws and your past."

"Don’t you think I’m too damaged for you?"

"I think you’re perfect for me" Leah replies tenderly.

"Good. 'Cause you’re perfect for me, too."

"Good. Now back to sleep. You have to be in shape for tomorrow, when I’ll make you do extra tricks with Alessia and Manuela because of your antics."

You roll your eyes, laying again against your favorite blonde. She gently strokes your hair like she knows it make you fall asleep quite quickly.

"Lee?" you mumble some times after

"Yes Sweetheart?"

"Thank you"

********

Confiding in Leah about your past helped dispel the nightmares you had from time to time. While you thought that this would open the door to all kinds of memories, you realize that you continue to manage to keep them aside, well compartmentalized in a corner of your brain.

You carefully observed Leah’s behavior after you confessed, still fearing a change in it. Perhaps the only thing that has changed is her protective side. You have seen her wince several times when you find yourself on the ground after contacts during games, relaxing only when your eyes cross and you smile at her to reassure her that everything is fine.

Just before the middle of February, you find yourself at the table in your apartment and she takes advantage of Alessia having to take a phone call to ask you a question. You’ve noticed that she’s been trying to talk to you about something since this morning, but she changes her mind at the last minute. Fearing it was something related to your past, you cowardly decided not to insist on your side. Leah already asked you why you didn’t press charges and pointed out that it was still possible. She seemed upset when you told her you just needed to forget about that part of your past but she gave up.

"I was wondering" finally begins the blonde playing with her rings "Valentine’s Day. Would you like to do something special?"

"Oh."

Valentine’s Day, you honestly hadn’t thought about it for a single second and you feel a wave of panic seizing you. You don’t have any gifts planned for her and you’ve always sucked for ideas. It’s probably too late to order something from the internet anyway, with delivery times at a time of year like that.

"Hello?"

Leah’s voice resounds again and you suddenly shift your attention to her.

"Valentine’s Day? You want us to do something?"

You think for a few seconds while biting your lip before finally shrugging your shoulders.

"Honestly, I’ve never really celebrated Valentine’s Day. But I’m never against spending time with you, quite the contrary. We don’t need to do something extraordinary, just you and me and a good movie. It’ll be just fine."

It was not knowing Leah at all.

The only thing she listened in that sentence is that you never celebrated Valentine’s Day and she intends to make your first one special. You don’t even react when she informs you that she won’t go home with you right away after training on Valentine’s Day, having something to do before returning.

For your part, you imagine that you will just spend the evening at home with her. You thankfully managed to find her a gift. You asked Lia to go with you somewhere to find something for Leah, she knows her well. Lia initially refused, saying you were better placed to know Leah’s tastes. But in front of your despair and your supplications, she finally accepted.

Actually she was right and what you found, you could have found it on your own. But it was nice to have the Swiss woman by your side. You opted for a jewel, rather refined but that Leah can wear with just about anything she wants.

You are only dressed in your towel in the bathroom when you hear your apartment door open. Leah having had the double of your keys a long time ago, like Alessia, you pass your head by the door to know which of the two blondes is in your apartment.

"You could have waited for me" Leah jokes, making her way quickly to you when she realises you are almost naked.

"I thought you had already showered before leaving" you answer with a smile.

"True. I wouldn’t mind doing it again tho"

Leah sticks her arms around your waist. Your eyes meet in the mirror and she smiles at you gently before putting kisses along your jaw. Of course it makes you shiver and Leah knows exactly what she’s doing.

"Is this what you want to do on our Valentine’s Day party instead of the movie?"

Leah smiles mischievously and puts a kiss right under your ear before answering you.

"You don’t have to be so attractive"

You get a new kiss before she takes off from you, laughing softly as you sulk when she does.

"As much I like undress you, we can’t now. We have an appointment somewhere"

"What do you mean?" You turn around and ask.

"Get dressed darling" Leah said as she walked out of the bathroom.

One hour and a half later, you find yourself outside the city of London, a place you’ve never been to before. You went beyond Leah’s birthplace, which you recognized very easily since she took you there several times, and since then, you are lost. Leah seems to be in an excellent mood, you put her playlist on and you have fun hearing her sing with all her voice the songs that pass on her Spotify.

The night falling very quickly at this time of year, you can only admire her in the light of the street lamps or headlights of the cars you cross, but if you were in the apartment of one or the other, you would have jumped on her to kiss her a long time agi.

"Have we arrived?" you ask when the blonde is parking the car.

"Yes, ma'am" she happily answers by turning off the engine.

You didn’t wait more and you don’t hesitate to take her face with both hands to kiss her. You are no longer afraid to give in to your outbursts of love for her now that you have realized that she was still very far from complaining about it.

Leah don’t wait to answer your kiss, leaning over her seat to deepen it. Her tongue soon caresses yours and you momentarily forget where you are.

"Keep it up and you won’t even see your surprise" Leah whispers after a few minutes.

She’s as out of breath as you are, and you need a few seconds to regain control. When you decide to get out of the car, the fresh air helps you recover your spirits and you find that apart from the building that stands in front of you, you are surrounded only by houses.

"Is this where you plan to take me to kill me?" you joke while the blonde grabs your arm.

She laughs softly as she hears you, opening the door of the establishment in which she planned her surprise.

"Are we gonna get a massage?" you ask with a smile, realizing you’re in a spa.

"In some ways"

You bow an inquisitive eyebrow but Leah is content to answer you with an innocent smile before approaching the reception. You follow her quietly, looking around with curiosity. You’ve never set foot in an institute like this before. The massages you get are usually from Arsenal physiotherapists. Or Leah, when you watch a movie.

Lost in your contemplation, you come back to yourself when Leah trains you with her, following the receptionist. She invites you to undress in the locker room and you turn to Leah with a surprised look when she left.

"Um Lee? I don’t have a swimsuit?"

"Don’t worry. I got it all planned Honey."

This is how you find yourself a few minutes later wearing a black swimsuit, bought and offered by Leah, in a jacuzzi with a glass of champagne in your hand. After drinking a bit, she sticks to you and you make her sit with pleasure on your knees.

"It’s better than a movie in front of the television, right?" smiled the blonde.

"Definitely"

You smile back and steal a kiss, since you can. You are in a private space, reserved for you for the evening. You learn that Leah knew this place through a friend of her mother’s and you are strangely relieved to learn that this is the first time she comes there too. A little bit of jealousy would been sad in such a successful evening.

"I really like this swimsuit" Leah smiles when you come out of the jacuzzi, remembering that you thought about taking your gift with you. "But I’m not sure I’ll let you carry it without me"

You roll your eyes for any answer, coming back with the box containing the jewel you found. You give it to her timidly, but the smile that illuminates her face when she discovers it is enough to know that she likes it.

When you ask what she meant by a "more or less" massage, Leah simply smiles at you and offers you to lie on the massage table in a corner of the room. You quickly understand that your masseuse will be nobody but Leah and that’s even better like this.

"If I had known you were so good, I would have asked you to massage me earlier" you mumble, half asleep.

"You know I’m good with my fingers"

You hear the smirk in her voice and you open an eye to look at her. You can only smile when you hear her laugh. You continue to observe her, wondering by what alignment of the stars you managed to find such a perfect girl. Who seems to ask nothing more than to accept you as you are, with whom you get along so well and who makes you so happy.

"What?" Leah asks after a few moments, realizing that you continue to look at her.

"Nothing. I’m just happy."

"Well I’m happy you’re happy" laughs softly the blonde.

"Are you? Happy?"

"More than ever my girl"

______________________________________________________________

For the next part I was thinking about some jealousy but if you have something else in my I will listen with pleasure :)

[arcanarix]

Fated Divergence, Ch. 5 // Yandere! Suguru Geto X Non-Sorcerer Darling

AO3 (+prev. chapter)

cw // shower sex, anal sex, cunnilingus, vibrators, in general geto being unhinged ;D

Word Count: around 4.4K

“Is that the last of them?”

Satoru’s head jerked to Maki, the one who asked the question and who exorcised some second grade curses within the secluded area. He scanned the environment, not catching any more surges of activity.

For now.

“I think that’s all we got,” he replied, signaling Inumaki and Panda to come forward. “We can wrap this up and I can take you guys back home.”

Maki, Panda, and Inumaki exchanged glances before looking up at Satoru with hopeful looks in their eyes. Ah, Satoru knew those looks, and he wasn’t about to deny them whatever they were about to ask—within reason, of course, and for someone like Satoru? Nearly everything was ‘within reason’ for him to make happen.

“Why don’t we stay and enjoy New York for a bit?” Maki inquired, adjusting her glasses. “We have some time, you know.”

“Salmon,” Inumaki stated.

Satoru still didn’t know what any of those ingredients translated to…

“Fine, fine,” he waved them off. “Might give me some time to do a little light reading, then, while you’re off exploring. But our flight’s in two days. So it’s best we regroup tomorrow and pack and all that.”

Maki glanced at the book stuffed in Satoru’s tote.

“The Ethics of Ambiguity? That’s a feminist text,” she recognized with a perk of an eyebrow. “I didn’t even think you would be into that kind of thing, Sensei.”

“Or that you even read,” Panda pointed out in jest, which provoked a snort from Maki.

Gojo paused, ignoring Panda’s comment and glancing down at his tote. “Aw, that. Yeah, uh, someone I rescued not too long ago lent me that book. Why, what’s the topic?”

“Existential philosophy,” she explained. “Discusses some stuff about how human existence itself is ambiguous and how humanity is both free and bound by their circumstances.”

Gojo gave her a blank stare.

“Ah,” he began, scratching the back of his head. “Was always more of a ‘do before you think’ kind of guy…”

Maki bit back a groan, irritation etched on her face.

“That flew right over your head, didn’t it?”

“Absolutely, it did,” Gojo laughed, adjusting his posture.

Maki groaned, clutching her head. “And how are you a Sensei?”

Gojo’s laugh rang like bells, while he rested a hand on her head, and patting her hair. Maki shot him a glare, unaware of the nervous tick because Gojo seemed to be lost in thought of you—nothing the students knew about just yet.

“Why don’t you guys go and have fun? Try some American cuisine and grab some souvenirs! I have some things I need to take care of right now.”

As the team dispersed, Satoru whipped out his phone and opened your text thread.

No responses. Usually you weren’t bad about replying (yet another refreshing thing about you), but he didn’t hear from you for a few days…

A bad feeling began to pool in his gut, but he had to put it aside for now. He took a moment to ground himself, to focus on what was in front of him and not on why you weren’t responding even if it, likely, Geto was the culprit. He glanced once again at the book you gave him in his tote, and then eyed some nearby cafes, and decided where he would do that ‘light reading’ he promised himself he would do.

After all, this might provide some insight into how you thought.

Once he ordered himself a matcha (too sweet, even for his tastes…did Americans really consume that much sugar?), he flipped to the first page of the book, hoping to get some kind of insight on your philosophies regarding your life.

In a peculiar way, it brought him closer to you.

-- --- --- --- --- ---

“Wake up, my love.”

As you blinked the weariness from your eyes, the scent of home-cooked fluffy pancakes and other assortments of breakfast foods flooded your senses. Instinctively your mouth watered, desperate for food; you hadn’t realized how starved you were because of how frightened you had been.

“Ah! There she is,” Suguru greeted with a little smirk as he presented to you a large tray of your breakfast. “I had this made special.”

“Th-thank you,” you stammered, swiping the bowl of hash browns seasoned to perfection and mixed with egg whites and freshly harvested vegetables.

“You’ll need your strength,” he responded, as he sat across from you, his gaze fixated on you. “I have much planned for us both.”

You disregarded his words and his presence for the moment, scarfing down as much food as you could in one sitting. You requested time to freshen up for the morning, and he graciously offered to unshackle you under the conditions that you wouldn’t run off.

“Not that you could,” Geto then added as he escorted you to the nearest restroom, a follower of his offering you the necessary toiletries. “Every floor and every exit are heavily guarded.”

Of course, you thought, your mind steeped in sarcasm. I would be stupid to try, knowing what he was capable of…what he wasn’t afraid to do.

“Geto!” called one of the twins, Nanako, as you focused on the mundane task of brushing your teeth, determined to maintain a semblance of normalcy despite the madness which surrounded you.

Even the term ‘madness’ put the situation in lighter terms…

“Ah, good morning, girls,” Geto greeted as he stood outside the restroom door, waiting for you to finish freshening up. Nanako and Mimiko ran up to hug him, and you would have smiled at the sight if not for everything.

“She’s here!” Mimiko pointed out with a wide grin, waving excitedly. You waved back when you caught her reflection through the mirror.

“Suguru, I will need some privacy,” you requested in a honeyed sweet tone. “I need a shower, and perhaps a change of clothes?”

Geto narrowed his eyes, before glancing down at the twins. “Could one of you bring her a robe and a change of clothes? Oh, and perhaps those shower steamers you two have begun to use. It might calm her nerves from being here a bit.”

Fucking. Asshole.

As Nanako and Mimiko ran off to fetch your things, Geto approached you in the restroom, closing the door behind him with a deliberate motion.

A lump formed in your throat as you swallowed.

“You won’t find respite from me so easily,” he warned. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? I’ve seen you already at your most vulnerable.”

Before you could retort, moments later, Mimiko knocked on the door and delivered your necessities. Geto thanked her and dismissed the twins.

You froze, breath caught in your throat as he placed them inside for you. You noticed—your preferred shampoo, conditioner, bar soap, body wash. Even the very face exfoliator you used, a gua sha tool, an African net sponge…

Things he shouldn’t know about you, but somehow, he did…? Should this really surprise you anymore?

And those shower steamers. Lavender and eucalyptus. Perfect scents for calming anxiety and nerves…

“Suguru,” you began, ignoring the tremor in your voice when you addressed him. “There’s nowhere for me to go; you don’t have to stand guard while I shower.”

“Oh, but I must,” he insisted, hand over his heart in mock sincerity. “After all, what kind of partner would I be to you if I’m not here to make sure you’re safe?”

You said nothing as you stepped into the shower, waiting for the water to preheat…

And you heard the wisp of some clothing falling to the ground. You stilled.

Of course he’d be joining you.

You said nothing as he slipped inside behind you, shutting the shower door. You said nothing as he brought you in close, wincing as his hardness pressed against your thigh.

“A Queen need not undertake these tasks on her own.”

“But I can do these things myself,” you countered, tone firm and full of conviction, which Suguru laughed at in a mocking way, as if your actions possessed little consequence.

Which was likely the truth.

It likely didn’t matter anymore, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t damn well try to gain some independence in this situation.

“I know,” he interjected, a curious tone of affection in his voice—likely because he finally had you right where he wanted you, all of this time, at long last. “But I want to take care of you.”

You chose not to pursue the matter any further, as Geto emulsified the shampoo in his hands and worked it into your hair. You ignored his words when he complimented how soft it was, and how it made your stomach churn once more. He kept it thorough, doing a second pass before moving onto conditioner. He even memorized your self-care routine practically down to an art. You snuck a few glances, and his expression…the softness in his violet eyes, how his face relaxed around you…like he seemed honored to do this for you, like he revered you as his Queen ruling by his side, like he saw you as, you couldn’t believe it, family.

But you knew better. You weren’t any Queen. Not truly. Just his prisoner. His pretty little pet. Someone to keep secured around his arms as an accessory while he condemned humans to a cruel fate.

You were someone who couldn’t fight him back, which probably gave him the most pay-off in whatever this grand scheme of his might be. You still weren’t sure what he went on about, about jujutsu sorcerers, about calling ‘humans’ or ‘non-sorcerers’ monkeys. To anyone with a modicum of logic, this man just sounded like he belonged to an asylum or under a strict conservatorship… but if there truly was some truth to whatever spiritual whoo whoo shit he’d been spewing, then did that mean Gojo’d been lying through his teeth about what he truly did for a living as well?

Soon Geto moved onto rinse you off of all of that grime, your senses flooded with a hint of vanilla from the body wash. He paused, taking a moment to admire the curve of your ass and giving a gentle squeeze to the flesh, eliciting a shocked yelp out of you. His chuckle in approval grated on your nerves.

“You are beautiful,” he purred, kissing heatedly into your neck. As he finished taking care of washing himself, he returned his attention on you, pressing your back into the marble walls of the shower and pinning you with his hands on either side of your head, as he peppered open-mouth kisses along your jaw. Gentle, loving…like a real partner.

Disgust gnawed at your chest at the mere idea—the notion itself, repulsive.

As much as you loathed to admit it, the shower steamers were great to relieve the tension you knew you were holding far too tightly given your circumstances. You focused on your breathing and not so much on who tended to you, gentle and tender like a genuine lover.

One of his fingers drew light patterns along the swells of your breasts, and your breath hitched.

“Oh, hit a nerve, didn’t I?” he taunted, tone drenched and heavy in mockery, much akin to the steam that now fogged the air between the two of you. “Is this where you’re weak?”

“Don’t,” you pleaded, daring to meet his piercing eyes with your timid ones.

He flicked a finger against one of your stiff peaks, and a sharp gasp escaped your lips against your will, gritting your teeth from the sensation.

He called your name, in a voice that was almost a soft, affectionate purr.

“When was the last time a man properly touched you?”

You didn’t know how to answer that question at all, words caught in your throat, and from the bottom of your heart, you didn’t want to answer him.

He frowned, his forehead creasing, frustration mounting by the minute as he pinched your nipple once again.

“I still want an answer,” he pressed with his tone laden in condescension.

“Not since…” you trailed off, your voice faltering as you choked on a sob, his both his hands grasped your breasts, groaning at the softness and suppleness of your skin against his calloused hands. You could even feel his fingertips had pruned up from how long you’d been in the shower already.

“Not since college,” you rasped out. Geto tutted at that new tidbit of information, even seemed shocked that a beautiful thing like you didn’t get laid on the regular. Or maybe it pleased him to know that you were pickier with your lovers, whoever you chose to give a little piece of yourself away.

“Did the man have any skill, or was he as inept as the rest of those monkeys?”

Did he expect you to answer that?

He addressed your name once again, growing impatient by the nanosecond.

“No,” you answered, in your most earnest way. “It…sucked.”

Geto clicked his tongue, like he pitied your lack of true connection between bodies. “How expected. You do need a proper lover. Tell me, did I meet your expectations that night?”

You stood frozen, peering up with him with beady eyes, but his resolve didn’t appear to crumble any time soon.

“That night…shouldn’t have happened. It was only because you could stop the streak of bad luck I had,” you recalled, your mind flashing to that night when he stole you. You wished you had alternatives, but what did you know about the world Geto kept spewing about?

He conceded to that with a hum, and with something else…a hint of something you missed yourself, but you didn’t care to make a remark.

“But you enjoyed yourself as much as I did,” he declared with certainty that made your blood boil, bony hands sliding down waist and resting at your hips, where he gripped tight. “I could tell you did. It is better if you admit it to yourself. I want it to be good for us both, my love.”

A hand ventured to your most intimate region, and you feared the worst, squeezing your eyes shut as his finger flicked along your slick folds before prying them apart, another finger grazing your clit. Another sharp gasp escaped your lips, and he sighed in glee, pleased to see you give into his ministrations.

He paused for a few moments too long, and you willed yourself not to look. Not that you could. He turned you around to face the wall, prying your legs apart as he rubbed his erect cock between your cheeks, stopping at the tight ring of your—

“—No!” you wept, scratching along the tiles to no avail. He trapped you in place, the tip of his cock catching into the tight ring of muscle.

He growled your name in a disapproving way.

“Relax into it,” he demanded, inching more of his length inside of your ass, pressing kisses to your shoulder blades. “Breathe, love, breathe. Let this be good for us both.”

You sobbed, his body pressing into you as each buck of his hips became sharper, more precise, his length and girth rubbing your walls in the right way which felt like the worst punishment…

“Fuck,” he groaned, resting his forehead on the crook of your neck as he resumed a harsh pace. “You’re made to take my cock. Feel how your ass just sucks me in each time. I don’t even have to try.”

“Please,” you practically wailed like a warning siren, begging, not knowing why you were begging because he would take what he desired from you no matter what. “Suguru—!”

Despite the shame pooling in your stomach, you came, clenching tight around his cock and wincing as he continued to fuck into you until the shock subsided.

“There will be more to come,” he vowed as he pulled himself out. He allowed the two of you to stand in the shower for a few moments longer to wash away the residue of your shared fun time, before he escorted you out, dried himself and yourself off, and dressed you both in robes.

You admired the softness of the robe he chose for you, at the very least. Despite your body still trembling, he led you out of the restroom and back to your chamber, which you had come to find out was the basement of the temple, and just across your prison appeared to be his bedroom.

“It doesn’t seem right to let you remain in this room,” he uttered, eyes fixed on you. “Provided you behave, of course, you can stay in my bedroom.”

You nodded, your face blanched from disgust, as your fingers dug into the fabric of your robe, seeking some kind of solace.

“Now, now,” he then tutted as he approached you, drawing you in close. “We can’t have any of that. Not when our new lives together are just beginning.”

“Geto!” Nanako interrupted the moment once more, and you swallowed any feelings of despair in that moment.

Appear normal for the girls.

“Can she come play Mario Kart with us? We need another player, and you never like playing video games!”

Geto chuckled as he kept you close, tightening his grip around your waist.

“She may need some time to adjust, Nanako.” He tried to let her down gently—in other words, he tried to make it so he didn’t intend on sharing your attention with anyone else, even his girls. “We can have a family game night later in the week, perhaps. Once she’s gotten used to us, don’t you think?”

Nanako pouted and folded her arms over her chest. “Come on, Geto! We want to get to know our new mom!”

You gawked at him. A mother? You? Hardly—you didn’t have the mother gene in you, or so you convinced yourself that. Plus you were far too wrapped up in a profession which hardly paid you enough to run a family.

You never even met the right partner, and Geto certainly wasn’t the proper fit.

“Nanako!” he chastised, his tone stern. “She needs time. Let us have time for ourselves, and then she can play those rotten video games with you, alright? Look at her. Does she look ready to adjust to this new life with us?”

Nanako glanced at you, and then back at Geto, shaking her head.

“Smart girl,” he commented. “Perhaps you can get one of my assistants to be your final player for now.”

Nanako deflated, clearly disappointed. “Alright…”

She exited the room. Your prison.

“I’m sorry.” It didn’t take a genius to know he definitely didn’t seem sorry in the slightest.  “Let me take you to my room, just this way. You can rest there, and hopefully not be interrupted by my rambunctious twins again.”

Had you not known the kind of man he was, his sentiments toward his girls would have warmed your stone cold heart.

He led you to his bed. King-sized, plush, like feathers as he rested you on your back. He snuggled close to you, nuzzling his nose into his neck and inhaling that fresh scent of vanilla bean and caramel, letting out a sigh in content.

“This is your home now, so treat it as your home,” he stated, hugging you even more inhumanely close. “I want you to be happy with us. Nanako and Mimiko already adore you.”

You remained silent, eyes diverted to the ceiling as your mind swam with thoughts—could you get out of here? Would Gojo know immediately if something had happened? How could this happen so quickly?

“Do speak to me,” he murmured into your ear before kissing it. “It’ll make things easier for you.”

“Please don’t insult me,” you sneered. “You want me to be a mother to your girls.”

“That’s…part of it, yes,” he acknowledged with a hum. “They need one. Someone strong, someone spirited, someone…human.”

“What became of their biological family?” you dared to ask.

“Dead,” came his simple answer.

You arched an eyebrow.

“By your hands?”

“…No, not quite. Those monkeys killed their parents, and they intended to kill them as well, when they were just children,” he replied, tone laden in bitterness as he recalled the memory. “So I did what I had to do and cursed that village. Filthy monkeys who don’t understand what it means to be a jujutsu sorcerer, to be sworn to protect the filth, rather than eradicate it, burn it to ashes…it’s asinine, truly.”

This bullshit about jujutsu sorcery is what’s asinine, you thought, as another moment of clarity came through that Geto admitted he committed genocides in the name of his cause, whatever it was. Geto truly is a dangerous man.

“You keep bringing that up,” you pointed out. “Jujutsu sorcery. What is that? Is that what you do? Is that how you can…see things?”

He nodded, expression grim. “You will learn everything you need to, in due time. I’m surprised Satoru hasn’t informed you of anything, but then again, the organization is sworn to secrecy. Humans are simple creatures…unevolved creatures, you see. They don’t like knowing that there is something out there more powerful than them. They condemn anything they don’t agree with, just like they condemned me, condemned the twins, and others like us.” He looked away. “If only Satoru agreed with my vision, then maybe we would still be as close as we once were. What a shame.”

So…Gojo hasn’t been wholly truthful about what he did, then?

You knew that you weren’t sure how to respond to that.

“Gojo told me nothing about these things,” you conceded, “So I guess I will have to hear the truth from you.”

“In due time,” he vowed with a low purr, as he slid down until he reached between your thighs, spreading them apart.

You winced. “Suguru, please, I…!”

He shushed you as he kissed along either side of your thighs, until he stopped at your cunt, blocked by your fresh new underwear. He pulled it aside, revealing your dripping folds.

“I want to revisit that night,” he asserted, his breath fanning against your sensitive skin. “When I made you come three times. You sounded wonderful. Maybe I can do more than that. Show you how a man should touch you especially if your previous encounters were as disappointing as you claimed.”

He nipped on the skin closest to your pussy.

“You are so perfect for me.”

Geto closed his mouth over your cunt and you couldn’t even react.

He sucked hard on your clit, tongue darting out and licking along and between your folds.

“Suguru—!”

Your hand reached to clutch the crown of his head. He moaned, lewd and like he starved for you.

He coaxed one.

He focused his attention on your clit, tongue twirling around the little bud, making you see stars. You hated this so much, yet he made it feel good, like he wanted your pleasure as much as his.

“Come for me,” he commanded.

He coaxed another.

“Delicious,” he moaned, tongue fucking inside you, and your back arched, fingers digging into the velvety bedsheets. “Come for me, again.”

Like clockwork, you did.

He withdrew his tongue for a brief moment.

“Submission is a beautiful look on someone so full of spirit.”

“Suguru…please, I don’t…”

He shushed you again.

“We should take things up a notch, hm?” he pondered over the options. “Perhaps I should insert a dildo while I fuck you senseless, or maybe…”

Your eyes widened, shaking your head vehemently.

“No, no, no, please!”

He growled your name.

“None of that,” he reprimanded with a dangerous frown. “We can make a choice. It’s not as if you’re inexperienced. Do you prefer those vibrators you keep in your sock drawer?”

“How did—?”

His lips curled into a wicked smirk.

“Oh, I’ve seen everything. And I want to watch.”

“Why—?”

“Because you’re so beautiful when you please yourself,” he sighed dreamily, “It’s such a wonderful sight—like that one night where you kept humping your pillow for some release. Did you wish that was someone else?”

You swallowed a dry wad of nothing. You did. Of course you did. You wished it was Gojo.

“I believe I even heard you call his name…”

Your lips quivered. “Suguru…”

He waved you off.

“No, no, it certainly wasn’t my name you called those nights, which broke my heart.”

His lips formed a thin line before he spat into your oversensitive pussy.

“It does always end up having everything to do with Satoru, doesn’t it? That selfish bastard, can’t even let me have this one thing…”

For a few moments, he completely pulled back, leaving you in a state of suspense and admiring your quivering form from the intensity of his touch. For a while he just stood there, his eyes raking you head to toe with a mix of satisfaction and something darker…triumph, perhaps, but also a hint of something softer? Geto’s thought process, you have come to realize a while ago, didn't make a lick of sense, so you didn't try to make sense of his madness anymore. Finally the sound of him shuffling to retrieve the necessary supplies broke the tense silence, not just the sound of your ragged breathing, trying to ground yourself for what was to come.

He returned to the bed, a vibrator in his hand that he switched on…of course, the very kind you preferred to use.

He had you down to an art, resting the vibrator to your pussy, at first, at a low, comfortable setting. Not too fast, not too strong. You liked the buildup, and he knew all that well.

He ran his tongue past his lips.

“What do you wish Satoru did when you think about him?”

You whimpered.

He amped up the setting.

“Do you think he’d be a more appropriate lover than me?”

He angled your vibrator the way you liked, and you moaned.

“Do you think he’d know how to take you apart? To make you squirm?”

Two fingers pressed on your clit. You mewled.

“You dare to utter his name instead of mine—!”

“Suguru—please! Too much! It’s too much, I can’t—!”

Your arousal splattered on the toy, his wrist, and a bit on his chin.

“You will never wish it was Satoru doing these things to you ever again. If I even get an inkling you are thinking of him, I’ll punish you. So promise me.”

You didn’t respond, only focused on calming your breathing. Ragged. Labored.

Your heartbeat raced.

He snarled your name, grasping your jaw and locking his eyes with yours.

“Promise me,” he repeated.

“Y-yes,” you whimpered. “I promise.”

His lips curled into a sinister, satisfied smirk, pressing a kiss to your thigh.

[boldlyvoid]

Bigger Than The Whole Sky | Part 5: Next Chapter

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: Juliette Hale Hotchner is born

Warnings: birth, newborn phase, adjusting to being a family of 4, Aaron thinking about quitting, slight mentions of sex, being sick

Word Count: 4.9k

Masterlist

She lets out the most guttural sob the moment her baby is placed on her chest. 

After almost 48 hours of labour, excruciating pain, not being able to eat real solid food, being unable to find the right position to sleep and the pain pushing with every fibre of her being… it all ended with the sound of her daughter's cry and the feeling of her warm, gooey body being placed on her own naked chest. 

She’s overwhelmed with love, every hormone known to man rushes through her as she looks down at her daughter. Her. Daughter. It almost doesn’t feel real. She’s shaking with adrenaline, and Juliette is crying too, adjusting to the outside world. Aaron is sobbing, he wipes the tears off his face and leans over to kiss Y/N’s temple, “You did so good.” 

“10:21,” the doctor announces and she finally snaps back into reality.

“I did it. Holy shit, I did it?” She honestly can’t believe it. 

The nurses intervene and start to wipe the gunk off Juliette, her doctor is still between her legs waiting for her to pass her placenta, there’s so much going on in the room but all she cares about is her baby. She hasn’t really gotten a good look at her yet, she’s just cuddled into her chest, listening to her mom's heartbeat through her skin, collecting warmth and calming down. Two warm blankets are wrapped around them, Aaron places his hand on the blanket covering Juliette's back, gently rubbing the fabric with his thumb. 

Once everything is said and done, the room calms down a lot. Juliette isn’t crying anymore, she simply makes little coos and grunts as she blinks into the new world. Aaron’s got his head on Y/N’s shoulder, looking down at their little girl, he studies her eyes, her cute little nose, the way she keeps licking her lips. He imitates her, speaks to her softly, and tells her he loves her over and over. “She’s so beautiful…” 

“I want to see her,” Y/N says, getting the attention of the nurse. “Can we do all her stuff now so I can hold her longer?” 

“Absolutely, we can. Come on Dad, you can help me with this,” she cheerfully takes the blankets off Y/N and carefully picks up the baby. “Does she have a name already?” 

“Juliette,” they say in tandem. 

The nurse lays her down in the incubator and turns on its weighing feature, she has Aaron cut the cord closer to the clip, and begins taking her measurements all while checking her APGAR score. She watches from the bed as she checks things off on a clipboard and adds a security bracelet to her ankle. 

“She’s big mama, 8 pounds on the dot…” the nurse turns back to her with a smile. “20 inches too, holy moly.” 

“I had a feeling she’d be tall, her brothers 10 and already almost 5 feet,” Y/N says from the bed, watching on with awe, wishing she could stand and be there, right there… she wants Jack here too. 

Once they get her settled in a diaper and swaddled in a little pink blanket, they bring her back over to her mama. Aaron places her carefully in her arms and smiles. “Look how Beautiful she is.” 

“When are you going to call Jess?” She asks. “I want Jack to come see her soon and to get her picture taken before she starts to change too much.” 

“She won’t change too much for the next few days,” the nurse teases with a smile. “Her swelling will go down and the colour will change in the next day or two, but she won’t look different for at least the next month.”

She lets out a sigh of relief, holding Juliette out in front of herself so she can get a better look at her. “She’s so beautiful already.” 

Aaron sits beside her, a little more than half his ass is on the bed, he steadies himself with his foot flat on the floor. He leans into her, resting his head on her shoulder, “She looks so much like you.” 

Juliette starts to blink, her eyes finally adjusting to what it’s like to be outside of the womb, she squints because of the lights, but she looks at her dad. “She knows your voice,” Y/N whispers, trying not to cry but she’s so overwhelmed she could cry for the next 4 days if you let her. “Keep talking to her.” 

Y/N bends her knees and keeps her feet flat on the mattress, she rests Juliette there in the crease between her two thighs and Aaron starts to talk to her some more. 

“Hi Juliette,” he says with the same voice he’d used to talk to her belly for all these months. “Hi sweetheart, it’s me, your dad.” 

Juliette looks at him, sticking her tongue out, she starts to lick her lips along with her blinking, she’s becoming more aware, and she’s getting hungry too. She wiggles her arms out of the blanket and Aaron reaches out for her hand, her whole hand grips his index finger and he smiles so big. “You’re so pretty, so much prettier than I ever imagined. I can’t believe you’re here, sweetheart.” 

She starts to fuss a little so Y/N brings her back to her chest and lets her settle there. Once she feels her mom's warmth and hears the beat of her heart, she coos and closes her eyes again, full of relief, she feels safest there. Aaron holds his hand on her back, caressing her with his thumb, the three of them are silent, content, and beyond happy. 

This time last year she thought she’d never be a mom. She had almost given up… on everything. In just a week it would be 1 year exactly since Peter punched her in the face. A year since she ran to Aaron for help. A year since she moved out. And in 2 months it’ll be a year since she got divorced and Aaron asked her out. And in 3 months, a year since she and Aaron made a baby. The very baby she’s holding right now. Her baby. 

“I can’t believe I made her,” she whispers. “She grew inside me? Everything about her comes from us… she’s so absolutely breathtaking.” 

“I know,” he smiles, turning his head just to kiss her cheek. He rests his forehead against her temple. “I love you so much, this is the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me.” 

“Thank you,” she smiles at him, her heart is so full and warm that she feels like she could melt away. “Thank you for her, thank you for taking care of me, thank you for making this a lot easier than I thought it would be…. I love you so much.” 

He kisses her again, presses his lips against hers and breathes her in, staying there for a few seconds before he peppers more kisses to her lips, and then her forehead. She leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder, holding her little girl against her body, this is the life she always wanted. 

—

When Jack shows up, he pushes the door open and walks in slowly, “hi,” he whispers. 

“Hey,” they welcome him at the same time and Aaron gets up to walk over to him and wrap him up in a big hug. “How are you, buddy?”

“I’m good, is she here?” He says, peeking past his dad to look at Y/N on the bed.

From the doorway, Mel, Jess’s girlfriend has her camera out, ready to take a slew of photos of this family’s first meeting. 

“Come here,” Y/N beckons him over. 

Jack is quick to her side, standing on his tiptoes as she tilts the baby upwards so he can get a better look at his sister. “She’s so tiny and cute,” he whispers. 

“Isn’t she?” Aaron smiles, placing his hand on Jack’s back. “Do you want to hold her?” 

“Can I?” He looks from his dad back to Y/N, eyes wide with excitement. 

They get him settled in the little chair and he sits with his arms out the way he’s been taught to hold babies. He’s absolutely beaming with excitement, kicking his feet as they dangle above the ground. Aaron takes the baby from her arms and carefully puts her in Jack's arms, supporting her head as he kneels down to Jack's level. He’s gobsmacked, jaw dropped as he looks at her in awe and all they can hear is the camera clicking with each beautiful photo Mel takes. 

Jack tears up, having to remove one of his hands from hiding her to wipe his face and cover his eyes with embarrassment. 

“Oh, Jack,” Aaron’s emotions get the better of him as well, making him tear up as he takes over holding her securely in Jack's lap. 

“I love her so much,” he choked out, face red and wet as he moved his hand out of the way. “Can you take her off for a second?” He asks. 

“Yeah?” Aaron stands and cradles her in his arms once more. 

Jack jumps off the chair and rushes to Y/N’s side, pulling her in for a hug, “thank you.” 

She scoots over a bit and pulls him up into the bed with her so he can snuggle into her side. Face buried in her shoulder, he shakes while he cries, bringing her to tears alongside him. She rubs her hand over his back and lets him cry, “I love you, Jack… thank you.” 

“for what?” He asks, pulling back to look at her. 

“I always wanted a son,” she whispers. Holding his cheek in her hand, she smiles at him. “Even if I never had a baby of my own, loving you these last 10 months has changed my life.” 

“As much as I miss my mom… I’m really glad I have you now,” he whispers right back. 

She kisses his forehead and pulls him in for another hug. Aaron's standing right there, his little girl is secure in one arm while he uses his free hand to wipe the tears off his face. Jess places her hand on his back, soothing him as she peaks in at her new little niece. 

“She is so beautiful,” Jess agrees. 

“Thank you,” he smiles. “She’s all Y/N.” 

“She has Jack's little baby nose though,” she swoons, hand on her chest, remembering him as a baby. 

“Can I get one of all of you?” Mel asks. 

“Yeah, come here,” Y/N beckons him over. 

Aaron places Juliette in her arms, Jack leaning on her shoulder as he looks down at his sister. Aaron stands beside the bed, smiling as the pictures are taken. They get a few, some with Juliette just in her arms, one with her in Jack's and possibly Y/N’s favourite photo that’s ever been taken. 

All their hands resting on Juliette's tummy, her small hand slipped out of her swaddle and resting on top. All 4 of their hands together, two families become 1 right in front of their eyes. The amount of love in the room is palpable even without their faces in frame. 

—

When they bring Juliette home from the hospital a few days later, she’s exhausted but also so excited. The team wasn’t home when she was born, and they never had the chance to make it to the hospital to see her during visiting hours. Penelope was able to come by after work, she brought flowers and balloons and unbeknownst to Y/N, asked for a key to their house to set up a coming home banner and fill their freezer with meals. 

She sets up flowers in the kitchen, and she has all the cards from people in the office set out on their kitchen counter. Then, in the living room, there are 4 wrapped presents sitting on the coffee table as well as a yellow gift bag stuffed with pink tissue paper. 

“What the heck is this?” Y/N asks Aaron, “Did you guys plan this out?” 

He sets Juliette's car seat down on the couch, nodding, “I might’ve forgotten to put your push presents in the car during all the chaos when your contractions started so I had her come set this up for me.” 

“Presents, plural?” She teases. “You didn’t have to?” 

“I know but I wanted to. I went online and looked up some sentimental gifts and there were too many good options so I got you a few,” he explains. “And then the gift bag is from the team.” 

“I want to see that one first,” she says, reaching out for it before taking a seat while Aaron works on getting Jules out of the car seat so he can snuggle her again. He loves seeing Y/N hold their baby, he knows how long she’s waited for this so he doesn’t interject or ask to hold her too often, but when she’s busy or needs a minute, he’ll take all the time he can get. 

She pulls the tissue paper out of the bag quickly, she feels around inside the bag for a card first but there isn’t one so she pulls out one of the gifts. It’s a photo album with “The Hotchner’s” written on it. Inside, however, the first few pages are full of memories. From handwritten notes of how the team realized she was pregnant before she announced it, the first ultrasound photo she got, photos of her at work with her feet up and all her snacks… and the cutest photo of her and JJ with their bumps touching. It’s so sweet. And then there’s a page full of photos from her baby shower and then the photos with Juliette are already printed and laid out. There’s a whole page of Jack with her, crying and smiling and so, so happy to be a big brother. The photo of all of them smiling, all their hands together and the first photo Penelope has with her first ever god-daughter. 

She cries the whole time she flips through the book. It’s just so perfect and sweet and everything she ever wanted. But the next gift… that’s where it gets good. 

Inside the bag, there’s another box with a piece of paper taped to it. The paper reads, ‘for adding new memories to this book with ease’ and when she peels it off, she sees that the box holds a Polaroid camera. 

“Oh my god?” She’s so overjoyed, that she holds the box close to her chest. “This is going to be so amazing! I’ve wanted to do photos of her each month to show her growth and everything, this is perfect!!!” 

The last thing in the bag is about a dozen cartridges of film so they’ll be able to take photos for months. She’s quick to take the camera from the box, stuff it with film and point it at Aaron as he holds their daughter close to his chest. He smiles and blinks slightly after the flash but she gets a perfect picture of them. “I’m going to kiss Penelope on the mouth next time I see her, I swear, this is the most perfect gift ever.” 

“I’m pretty sure it was also Derek's idea… but yeah, you can kiss Penelope,” he teases. 

“I’m not actually going to kiss her,” she looks at him like ‘come on?’ But she smiles, so, so in love with him. “What one of yours should I open first?” 

“That big square one,” he points. 

The wrapping paper is cute, light pink with darker pink hearts all over it. She takes off the cute little bow and runs her finger over where he signed them all with a sweet smile. She’s so appreciative, these are so cute and she loves them no matter what is behind the wrapping paper. 

Under the wrapping paper, it looks like 4 books in a sleeve, only the first two books have names on them. She pulls Jack's out to see it’s a memory organizer. There are drawers for important things, like their hospital bracelets, hat and socks, their umbilical cord stump and the trimming of their first haircut. And at the bottom, there is a bigger drawer for documents. Jack's things are already in his own, Aaron put it all together before wrapping it up. 

“Juliettes only has her pregnancy tests in it,” Aaron shares before she can even say anything. 

“These are so cute? Why did you get 4?” 

“Well, I didn’t want them to be sold out or discontinued if we have more kids, I want them all to have one,” he explains, the sweetest smile on his face. 

“You want 2 more?” She teases. “I mean, give me a couple weeks but we can start churning them out quickly.” 

“Funny,” he shakes his head, not thinking she’s serious. 

“I’m not kidding,” she stares him down. “We can have them close together, they’d be good friends and I could do back-to-back maternity leaves… it would be cool.” 

“You seriously want to get pregnant again this soon after?” He can’t believe it. 

She nods, “I have heard about people who have a baby in their 30s and then go infertile right after, so honestly I’d rather just try right away and keep trying until it happens.” 

“Okay…” he’s a bit hesitant. “Can we just wait like 3, maybe 4 months? Get used to life with her and get her settled and on a schedule and everything before we change everything again? I want her to have her moment to shine. I want to shower her in love as long as I can before I have to split my heart in half again.”

“Yeah, yeah, absolutely… sorry, I’m not trying to rush I’m just— you know, I’m always going to be worried I’ll never have any more babies even though I just had one,” she rationalizes. “Sorry.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he assures her. “You want a big family, I want a big family, but we can wait a bit. Even if we have to eventually go do IVF like JJ and Will, it’ll be okay.” 

She moves over on the couch, closer to him and he leans in closer to her so they can share a quick kiss. She presses her lips against his, breathing in deeply through her nose as the kiss lingers and then she pulls back with a smile. “Thank you for my first present.” 

“Am I getting a kiss for each one?” He teases. 

She nods, “That can be arranged.” 

“Open whatever you want next,” he nods towards the table. 

She goes for a smaller one, it looks like it could be a jewelry box for a bracelet or necklace… as she peels the wrapping off, she’s right. It’s dark blue velvet, soft and beautiful without any logo on it. That means it might be a custom-made piece. She cracks the box open, a little light turns on to make it shine inside and her jaw drops. It’s a beautiful necklace with 4 stones on it. 

Her birthstone is in the middle surrounded by topaz and citrine for Aaron and Jack as well as a sapphire for Juliette. It’s beautiful. She’s quick to take it from the case and open the clasp. She puts it on herself and readjusts it, holding the stones in her hand as she turns to him. “This is so beautiful.” 

“I thought you’d like it,” he smiles. “I’ll get more stones added for the others before they come.” 

“You’re too good to me,” she shakes her head, unable to stop smiling as she leans in for his second kiss. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” he smiles right back against her lips.  

Her next present is an odd shape, he clearly wrapped them all himself and this one is… interesting. She pulls the wrapping apart to reveal a purse— no, a diaper bag. A very stylish, black leather diaper bag. “Holy shit?” 

“It’s nice isn’t it?” He brags. “I also got that in LA, and kept it at the office until last week when our leave started.” 

“I love it,” she says, looking inside at all the pockets and how deep it is. “I’m going to use this all the time.” 

“And it’s one I wouldn’t mind taking around when it’s just me and Julie going out,” he smiles. 

She gives him a third kiss and then kisses Julie on the head, “Your daddy is going to look so snazzy with this new diaper bag.” 

“Okay, open the last one,” he laughs, pointing at the final gift. 

It feels like a shirt or something made of fabric wrapped up in gift paper. She slowly peels it open and her heart almost stops. It’s a baby dress that looks exactly like her baby shower dress. It’s exactly the same just tinier. “Aaron?” She says with tears streaming down her face, “Oh my god?” 

“I got them together,” he smiles. “I knew you’d want to match. We can do the next photoshoot in them. I know you’ll want to take some photos every few months.” 

“Well, it helps having a photographer in the family,” she smiles, wiping her tears. “Aaron, these are the best gifts… but nothing is better than her and that little boy you share with me.” 

—

The first week flies by and before she knows it, it’s 10:21 am on the 13th again and she’s had this baby girl in her arms for 30 days. The best Month ever. Sure, she hasn’t really showered and there’s currently puke on her shirt and she smells like spoiled milk… but she’s never been happier. 

And Aaron loves it. 

Aaron, who wakes up at night to change Julie and gives Y/N time to wake up before he hands her the hungry baby. Aaron, who makes her snacks and brings her breakfast in bed and keeps the house clean. Aaron, who brings Jack to school during their morning nap time, and never forgets to pack him a perfect lunch. Aaron, who snuggles his little girl so mommy can have a few moments of peace, be it in the shower or at the grocery store. Aaron, who’s replaced his weekend run with a daily walk with his little girl in the stroller.

He loves it so much she’s worried that he won’t want to go back to work… and he’s been talking about it. 

They’re lying in bed, Juliette asleep between them while they watch TV on the lowest volume possible. He looks down at her and then at Y/N with a smile, “I love this.” 

“Yeah?” 

He nods, “and I think I’m done… with work. I felt so awful when I couldn’t do this for Jack. I had a week off, Haley assured me she was good being a stay at home mom when I went back and then the more I missed, the worse I felt—

“But Jack doesn’t remember, he didn’t even know you missed so much,” she assures him. “He thinks you’re Superman. He loves knowing you save people… but if you wanted to stop, you’re more than allowed to.” 

“The first time Dave retired, he was my age,” he explains. “I think I want to take time off to be a family and when they’re in college, maybe I can go back? Or maybe I could teach?” 

“Whatever you want to do, we can make it work,” she agrees, with no problem. None at all. She’d actually love to have him home. “Although, that will be in 18-24 years…” 

“24?” He asks, confused. 

“I want more kids, you would go when all of them are in college, right?” She teases. 

He laughs, “Yeah… if I get antsy I can teach early. Or I could go back to being a lawyer. I could do family court or small claims, or teach law?”

She nods, “That sounds fun too. You’ll find something to fill your time with.” 

“Are you going to go back to work?” 

She shrugs, “If I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, would you mind?” 

He shakes his head, “not at all. And the same thing goes for you, when you find another thing to fill your time while they’re all at school, I’ll be fully supportive.” 

She leans in and kisses him, “Thank you.” 

“Thank you,” he reminds her. He thanks her every day for creating another little life with half his DNA for him to love for the rest of eternity. 

“Now, the big question… What are we dressing her as for Halloween?” 

—

Before they know it, it’s Christmas.

November flies by so quickly, they have Jack’s birthday, Henry’s birthday, and Aaron’s birthday all within a week. They have a huge party at a trampoline park for Jack, they go to JJ’s for Henry’s and they meet her mom and their babies get to spend some time together, getting to know one another before little Michael starts coming over for regular playdates now that his mom has gone back to work. 

But for Aaron’s birthday… Aunty Penelope and Uncle Derek take both kids out for lunch and time at the park so Mommy and Daddy get some alone time. Some very much-needed, loud and obnoxious alone time. 

Now, she’s standing in the kitchen at Derek's new place, holding her baby while the adults talk about work and what they’ve missed. They hired another person, Matt Simmons, who has taken over the empty spot JJ left while filling in for Derek who is filling in for Hotch. The team is pretty stacked now, especially with Spencer back on his feet and at work every day. 

Savannah, Derek's girlfriend, takes a Mac and cheese out of the oven and places it on the countertop and a whiff of it heads Y/N’s way. She doesn’t like it. Something in it makes her stomach turn, she hasn’t felt this way in a while… she hands Aaron the baby, “I’m sorry,” is all she can say before running to the bathroom. 

“Oh no,” Aaron’s face drops when he remembers the last time this happened. 

“What, is she okay?” Derek worries. 

“I’ve got her,” Penelope takes Juliette right from his arms. “Go see if she’s okay.” 

“She is,” he says while handing her the baby. “I think we fucked up… oh my god.” 

“What?” Derek still doesn’t get it. 

“Oh my god,” Savannah and Penelope say at the same time. 

“We were so used to not using protection while pregnant that… that we didn’t on my birthday,” he explains, there’s no use being secretive when the women already guessed. “Normally, it’s just boxed Mac and cheese that makes her sick when she’s pregnant, but I’m gonna—” he points to the bathroom and follows after her. 

He knocks on the bathroom door and she groans, “What?” 

“It’s just me,” he says while walking in. “Are you okay?” 

She’s hugging the bowl, wiping her face with toilet paper. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he assures, kneeling down to rub her back. “I should be sorry, I didn’t even think about putting on a condom, it’s been a year and we never have so—

“Oh my god?” It clicks for her. 

“Yeah,” he manages to laugh. “We’ll probably have two under two this time next year.” 

She starts to cry, overjoyed, “Oh, my god?” 

He pulls her in for a hug just as someone knocks on the door, “I have some of these,” Savannah says, tossing a pink little square under the door. “I have a box of like 100 for how many times my period is late by like a day and I freak out. They’re pretty reliable but if you need another, let me know!” 

“Thank you!” They call back. Aaron reaches for the packet, tearing it open while she gets up and starts pulling her pants down. 

He hands her the little test while she sits down and starts to pee. She gets it under the stream for a few seconds all while he gets some toilet paper to place it on. “It should take a few minutes,” she starts to explain but he’s already watching the lines appear. 

“oh no, you’re super pregnant,” he says with a laugh. “Holy shit, that’s a dark second line.” 

“It’s been, what? A month and a bit since your birthday?” She asks, forgetting how much time has passed. “I didn’t think anything of it, my period hasn’t come back while breastfeeding anyway?” 

“And you were complaining the milk had changed…” he reminds her. 

She wipes, she pulls her pants back up and she immediately lunges for him, hugging him so tight. “Oh, this is amazing news, Aaron!” 

He laughs, “You always get your way.” 

She smacks his arm as she pulls back, “You’re the one who knocked me up.” 

“You’re the one who arranged to have the kids go to Derek’s for my birthday,” he teases right back. “But We wanted this. This is what we needed.” 

“This is the best Christmas present you could’ve ever given me,” she whispers so she doesn’t cry. Leaning in for a quick kiss, despite being sick. He couldn’t care less. He loved her more than he could ever explain. Maybe even more so, because another little baby he gets to love for the rest of time is growing inside of her once again. 

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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty-One Twenty-Two

TW: nsfw, blood, trauma

Tom busts into the room. Someone’s yelling behind him about red tape and policy, like they don’t even know who he is in the first place. He’s blood and sweat coated, a fine grime glazing his skin, and still the most handsome and soothing thing you’ve ever seen in your life. Yes, even with the pickle juice smell and cornchip residue in his hair. “You alright?” He asks, kneeling down and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

“I’m fine,” you say. “I see this stuff all the time.” 

“Is he being an asshole?” He asks, glaring over at your interviewer in his two piece suit— the man looks about ready to either piss himself or strangle Ludlow. 

“No, just a dick,” you joke before really thinking about it, and now you’ve earned yourself a scowl from the gentleman asking you questions who has actually and surprisingly been pretty nice. “I’m just kidding,” you reassure him, “inside joke.”

He looks to Ludlow, then back at you with his eyebrows raised as if he gets the whole picture now. You don’t really understand why you’re embarrassed about it. After all, if you’re going to date—what a weird word and even weirder thought—Tom Ludlow, you’ll probably meet his coworkers at some point. 

“Stare a little longer, Brixton,” Tom warns. 

You turn fully to the angry man beside you and rest your hand on his shoulder. “I’m alright. He’s going through suspect pictures. That’s all.”

“Any luck?” 

You hate to dash that hopeful lilt in his voice. “Not yet.” 

“But we still have a lot to go through,” Brixton says, interrupting the intensity between you and Tom. 

“No shit,” Tom smiles. 

5 million criminal profiles, four cups of disgusting coffee, and an actual migraine later, you are still shit out of luck. Looking at Brixton hopelessly, head in your arms, eyes almost as red as the blood stains on your clothes. “So, what if it’s none of these?” You ask. 

“Could be someone new, someone we haven’t identified yet. Like I said initially, if it isn’t any of the ones I show you, you should be fairly safe. Low level criminals don’t usually care about witnesses.”

“Low level?” You ask, eyebrows pulling up. “They shot up a convenience store with submachine guns.” 

He shrugs. “You’d be surprised at how easy it is to get ahold of those in this town.” 

“Okay,” you sigh, “can I go, then?” 

He looks at you for a long minute. “You gave your description to the sketch artist?” 

“Yeah, I did.” 

“Alright, pack up.” 

Seeing Tom is terrifying, and not because he’s a walking bloodbath. It’s terrifying that you can tell so easily, even from a distance, the man is in a rage. Berserk, boiling with dark energy, the kind that has your stomach tied up and your body tensing. “Are you alright?” As he’s walking you out of the precinct, a possessive hand on your waist. 

“Let’s just get you home, cleaned up, then we’ll talk.” 

“Okay.” You stay silent the entire car ride to your house, then all the way up to your apartment. The doorway breaks his silence. 

“He’s alive, thanks to you.” 

You let out a breath that got stuck in your lungs a long time ago at the store when the last bullet pierced Washington’s chest. You don’t understand why Tom feels the way he does about his old partner. After all, the man is attempting to throw him directly under the bus without a second thought, so you’re not really relieved that you saved Washington’s life, but rather that, for some reason, Tom seems content with the whole thing. “That’s good,” you say quietly. “Right?” 

“Honestly…” he trails off, looking at the floor like he’s having some internal struggle about what he really feels; something you can relate to all too well. “I’m glad that you’re alright.” He crosses the room in a long legged stride, and bundles you up in his arms. “That’s the only thing I care about.” 

And you thought you were fucked before…

“Let’s get clean, and go see the movie.” He sounds lighter, now, but you just know there’s something he’s holding back—trying not to tell you. You can feel it in the way he holds you, see it in the hard black of his eyes, taste it in the air like you can the dried mephitic blood. 

“We don’t have to do that,” you assure. 

“I want to.” 

You’re not sure you really feel like sitting through a movie, but it seems important to him, to do something normal. Maybe that’s the way he copes with the horrible things he sees in his job. Forcing himself to do normal things. Or maybe…he just really wants to spend time with you.

You take a shower together–to save water, obviously. California is experiencing a drought. You get distracted though, for obvious reasons, and “we’re gonna be late,” you groan, as he sucks up the mess between your thighs. “Thought you-ah-wanted, wanted.” 

He shushes you with the taste of yourself, licking at your tongue, pressing you against the soaked tile, hands cupping your breasts. “I’m sorry, baby, you’re just so fucking pretty.” He talks against your mouth, then delves back inside to clash teeth again. “How am I supposed to resist you?” 

Possessive, needy, insistent Tom fucks you nice and slow on your bathroom floor with your legs pressed against your chest and knees hooked over his shoulders; a recipe for a deep, splitting angle that makes you scream. He pauses that lovely, skilled glide of his hips and pushes hair from your face. “You alright?” 

“Jesus. Fuck. Yes! Yes. Why did you stop?” Because he was pummeling your gspot with every thrust, and it felt like nirvana and you need him to move again—oh, there he is, at the same pace, even—an expert in making you see God and the Devil all at once. You don’t know how many times you cum like that, pressed against the plush bathroom rug you got from a discount bin at Target which is surprisingly comfortable. Many consecutive orgasms are starting to feel like a continuous, nonstop one—like you’ve lost control of yourself, like the only thing you are or want to be is a tight sleeve for Tom’s cock. 

“I can’t last much longer, honey.” By the sounds of it, it's a miracle he lasted this long. 

A strangled sound escapes you that’s almost a laugh. He’s been so good to you. So good it feels like a dream. It’s almost hard to remember, now, a time when you’d been certain he was such an asshole. All this flits through your brain in a matter of a second. “Cum for me, baby. I wanna feel you. Need you.” 

You watch with abject fascination through heavy lids, as his head bows, his body tenses, his grip on your hips tightening hard enough to leave bruises. How is it that you make this beautiful man fall to pieces? You’re afraid you would never tire of the sight. He spills inside you with a moan that shakes you to your soul, filling you with the hot rush of his seed. 

It’s funny, the ridiculous things that go through your mind after sex, floating in through the fuzzy white afterglow of umpteen orgasms and Tom’s solid weight resting on top of you. Such as: It’s a good thing your bath mat is machine washable, because you just made quite a mess. 

“I think,” Tom pants against you, “We’re going to miss the movie.” With this man in your arms, you cannot bring yourself to care. After the day you’ve had, this suits you perfectly.

“It’s fine,” you tell him breathlessly, pressing your lips to his cheek. “This is all I want anyway.”

He manages to sit up just a smidge, looking down at you with mischief in his sparkling brown eyes. Yet there is a vulnerability there too, underneath it all, and it squeezes your heart. You know he has a dangerous job, but the pure power and fury of those submachine guns earlier today ripping the store–and his old partner–to shreds probably had him feeling extra keenly the miracle of being alive. You knew that you yourself were a little surprised–but also numb, which maybe wasn’t the best, but it was how you cope.

“My naked body in your arms?” he ribs you, lifting an eyebrow.

“Either way.”

He lays a big kiss right in the middle of your forehead. “I think you like me.”

You look between the two of you, assessing the situation as if to say duh. But, then, feeling a little rogue, “nah, you must be hallucinating.” With a big grin on your face.

Reluctantly you part, Tom taking a deep breath as he leans back against the tub. “We might need another shower now?”

You smack his shoulder playfully–it’s all you can reach, from your position on the floor.

“I think this is where I’m sleeping,” you sigh, your head at a strange angle.

“Come on, sweetheart, I’ll make you something to eat.” 

Miraculously, you suddenly find the strength to sit up right. He helps pull you to your feet, and you pause for a luscious moment, your body pressed to his.

“Tom?”

“Yeah, baby?” he asks with his lips on your forehead.

“This…is the nicest thing that’s happened to me…maybe my whole life?”

Maybe you'll regret it later, but there’s just something about nearly dying that day that makes you want to say it.

He really surprises you with his answer. “Me too.”

You’re surprised because he is literally the whole package: cooks, gives massages, fucks like a nineteen year old on double shots of testosterone. You? You feel like you pale in comparison to him, so of course the lack of nicety in your life isn’t really surprising. In his? Astounding.

He teaches you how to cook pollo con arroz with the sparse ingredients in your kitchen. Behind you, helping you cut an onion, he leans down to press his mouth against your ear. “I’m gonna have to take you grocery shopping.”

“Are you going to be cooking for me with those groceries?” You ask, only half joking. 

“I’ll cook for you every single day. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. You never have to touch an oven again if you don’t want to, baby.”

You know he’s probably exaggerating, but those words make your heart beat in Tom-sync. The organ no longer belongs to you, it belongs to the warm, tall, beautiful man behind you who’s making sure you don’t slice yourself with the veggie knife. And you’re not even sure how it really happened. 

“You don’t think I will?” He asks, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“Do you have time for that?” You reply, trying to keep your tone light and fun. 

“I’ll make time. I made the mistake of working too much, when I was married. I promise, I’m not going to do that with you.” 

“They give you a choice at the department?” you tease, still desperately trying to keep things light, even as your heart is constricting in your chest at the mention of his late wife.

“There’s only so much time in Complaints I can handle,” he fires back.

“So…how is all that going?” you ask. “Because they definitely looked at you at the station like you’re a legend.”

He raises his dark brows at that, endearingly shy all of a sudden. “I think you’re misinterpreting their feelings. They fuckin hate me.”

Sounds like Tom Ludlow doubts himself? Strange. You’re so used to his self-assured, cocky, confident side. “Sounds like you hate them?”

You feel him shrug. “I like three of them.”

That makes you chuckle. “Oh man.”

“You like everybody you work with?” He challenges, nipping at your earlobe playfully. 

You squeak, almost slip with the knife until he catches and steadies your hand. “Easy,” he murmurs, boiling your blood again. Your vagina, who was once all bets off for Tom, is now begging for a break despite the constant kiln of arousal kept hot by his presence. Hell, by the thought of him. But, damn, it had been a while before this insatiable beast grabbed you in his clutches, and if you’re this sore and overworked you know that he probably is, too. 

“Mostly,” you reply, swallowing the gathering saliva in your mouth. “I mean, nurses are bitches, but we’re too busy to really be catty or dramatic.” 

“Nurses are bitches? Nurses are the backbone of healthcare.”

It makes you giggle, the fact that he’s defending your own kind against you. “Well, thank you. Despite what people say about cops, I think that there are some good ones—for example, you.” 

He hmphs. “No, cops are fucking terrible.” 

“If you didn’t exist, I’d probably agree.” 

He turns you around and presses you against the lip of the counter, a wolf’s smile and shining, blown black eyes making your pulse thrum faster. “My ego can only take so much, baby.” 

“Careful,” you warn, “I have onion hands.” 

He grabs your hand up, takes your fingers and sucks them into his mouth, tongue tickling and warm and wet. You shift, try to pull back because it feels strange at first, and then so, so good, the skill of his mouth resonating in your clit. A tiny moan slips out of you and he smiles around your index, raising both eyebrows as if to say yeah, you like that?

“Tom,” you try, “I feel like if we have sex again my vagina will pack its bags and leave town.” 

He lets your pinky go with a little wet plop. “You just let me deal with her. I’ll convince her to stay…” 

Yes, Tom, whatever you say, Tom. You’re a little disgusted with yourself, but oh, not with him, not with Prince Dastardly Charming. “I am hungry, though,” you tell him, blinking wide and innocent—a great tactic, as you’ve come to learn. 

The food is delicious, and you have just enough rioja left to serve it with. You sit across from each other at your little dining table, his legs tangled with yours because the man can’t resist touching you for more than five minutes—which you secretly love. You honestly forget that there’s something you need to ask him until you’re halfway through and halfway full. The food is that good. If he ever decides to change careers, chef wouldn’t be a bad place to start. 

“You said that you worked too much? When you… were with your wife?” Maybe it’s invasive, but you add in, “you don’t have to answer that.” 

“No, it’s okay,” he assures, washing a mouthful of rice down with red wine. “I want to be open with you about it, if you want to hear it?” 

“Of course,” you nod, genuinely intrigued. 

“The last few years of our marriage, I got promoted. That meant less time at home and more time at the job. I was gone a lot—a lot more than I was present, and I didn’t notice she was pulling away until it was already too late.”

You wince, and take his hand. “I’m sorry.” 

He looks to your hand as if it can ground him, somehow. Keep him straight and steady. “Looking back, it was my fault. She’d beg me to stay some nights. But I was an asshole, I thought the work I was doing was important. After she passed I found her diary, it had a page in it where she wrote…” He pauses to take another drink. 

You rub over his thumb, trying to soothe. 

“It was one sentence. Over and over again. Please come home, Tom.” 

You can’t help the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Maybe that’s why he’s so persistent, so determined to make you his—to show you he’s worth something. Because he couldn’t do it for her. 

“Oh, honey…”

“So I was wrong. There will always be more crime to fight. More shit to shovel. It’s not a war we’ll ever win. But there was only one of her, and I…fucked up. I don’t even blame her for stepping out on me. I wanted to punish the shitbag who treated her that way, but I was the shitbag who left her alone in the first place.”

“Tom…” You squeeze his hand. “You made a mistake. But you couldn’t have known.”

“I should have known. I’m a nosy motherfucker, if you haven’t noticed.”

This makes you smile a little, despite the subject at hand. “It’s possible I picked that up about you.”

With his hair in his eyes he pays you a winsome smile that about breaks your heart. “C’mere,” he says, orders, tugging on your hand.

For once in a mood to obey, you let him pull you into his lap. It’s becoming your favorite seat. With his strong arms wrapped around you, you feel as though nothing bad can touch you. He snuggles into the bend of your neck, just holding you, and for the millionth time you think to yourself that you are just utterly doomed. “If I get caught up in a case and you need me, baby, promise me you’ll just tell me, alright? I’d drop everything for you.” 

Once again, the tears well in your eyes. Fuck if you don’t believe him too. “Ok.” It’s all you can get out, past the scratchy lump of emotion lodged in your throat like a sea urchin.

You watch some mindless television together, until you decide you are both exhausted. You brush your teeth and change into your favorite age-softened nightgown–only for Tom to pull it right back over your head with a smile that is somehow both roguish and tender. “No need for that,” he tells you, walking you backwards until your knees hit the bed.

“Tom…” you plead, unable to stop your sleepy giggle as he kisses the insides of your thighs. “I was serious…”

“Shhh,” he says, smirking up at you with his cheek resting on the warm pillow of your thigh. “Kitty and I have to have a little chat.” 

“Kitty says she’s tired,” you whine, your breath hitching as his lips travel higher. 

“But I’ll be so gentle.” His soft lips touch your flesh so close to your aching apex, and your vagina is ready to tell you to fuck off, so she and Ludlow can have their talk. You’re really not sure how this is your life right now. Your love life went from dry as the desert to this–this beautiful man, between your legs, and in your kitchen, and if you’re really up for some brutal self-reflection:in your heart.

He has a little bit of stubble on his face this time; you can really feel it as he nuzzles into the plump top of your pussy. You press him back, choking on saliva, thighs clamping around him in an attempt to protect the sensitive flesh. “Oh God,” you murmur, head thrown back against the pillows. 

“Sorry, baby.” He kisses the top of your slit where your clit peeks out, holds your hips from spasming, from probably giving him a minor concussion. “It’s hard.” A long lick up your labia, generous with saliva and feathery gentle. “To resist my gorgeous pussy.”

Here you are, legs hanging off the end of the bed, Tom Ludlow kneeling by your feet and licking your puffy cunt, calling you his again, and you’re not even arguing. No protest whatsoever. You might as well be handing your meaty little heart—and clit—over on a silver platter, garnished with spring onion and lemon.

You think, maybe, you can stand this method of cunnilingus a little better. But you’re wrong. The slow, torturous tease of his wet mouth inching its way into your folds, purposefully avoiding the yearning bulb at the very center of your pleasure makes you beg for that hungry devourer you once knew. You can tell he’s holding back by the low groans of agony vibrating your skin, the tensing of his arms so tight on your malleable thighs and hips, indents and bruises as testament to his resolve. 

While he exercises self control, he makes sure you do, too—securing you into the mattress with his grip, conjuring the most hellish ache in your cunt and then pinning it in place, keeping you right there, whining and soaked and finally begging him for more despite all the initial, useless resistance. 

He keeps you on the edge of his careful tongue for a little while—a lot longer than your patience can tolerate. Instead of trying to squirm away now, you’re pressing into him, offering yourself up for just a little bit longer of that wicked suck-lick-repeat that makes your vision gooey around the edges. “Please, Tom.” You want to beg pretty, but it comes out desperate and feral, the opposite of feminine and sweet, your teeth clenched so hard it makes your jaw ache. 

He surfaces from the deep pool of your arousal. “Look at me.” 

You do, and it’s a mistake. Because when you catch his black, heavy eyes, he’s giving you a long lick that feels like it’s breaking your toes instead of merely curling them, and the shiny, wet, hedonist’s smile is enough to take you right to the edge and leave you there. Screaming and thrashing. 

“Baby, baby,” he calls, soothing you by petting your twitching, sweaty skin—fuck, you are going to need another shower. “You wanna cum?”

“Uh-huh.” Your eager nod makes him chuckle. 

“Say you’re mine, greedy girl.” 

Dirty cheating bastard. The glare you give gets sucked right back out of you, through your pulsing clit, into his mouth. He presses two fingers just inside you, and you growl at him, proving that you are, indeed, more like that cute chihuahua than you want to admit.

“That’s adorable,” he muses, stretching you open a little more. “C’mon, tell me.” 

“That’s not fair,” you protest, trying to push down onto his hand, swallow him up. 

He over exaggerates a sigh, breath cooling over your fiery flesh. “That’s alright, I have all night.” 

Another strangled sound escapes you, your eyes dewy with pure frustration. Is it not enough, that he clearly holds you in the palm of his hand? Do you really have to say it out loud?

“I’m going to get you back for this,” you pant, straining for just a little more friction in just the right spot. 

This only seems to delight him, of course. “Oh, I hope so.” 

“Tom, Tom, Tom,” you call softly, trying a different tone, “please fuck me.” 

“I am fucking you,” he says, laving at your clit and getting it nice and warm and soaked again.

“No,” you hiss. “Want your—oh. Want your cock inside me, please. Want you to-ah-uh cum inside me.” 

You must drive a hard bargain, or he just can’t take it anymore. Judging by the sight of his big, beautiful cock, leaking and turgid, it’s the latter. You don’t have enough sense to be suspicious of why he’s letting you win so easily while he’s fucking your permanent indent into the mattress, sucking the nape of your neck between his teeth.  

He gently fists his hand into your hair, sends your hips pushing into him. “That hurt, baby?” He asks, grunting with the force of his thrusts. 

“Uh uh,” you say, biting into the skin of your arm while a thickened, wonderful release builds in your belly, soothes the stretching ache that goes hand in hand with his girth. “Feels good.” 

He tugs a little, winding your hair around his fingers, digging into your scalp and mimicking the rub of his cock on your gspot. That’s enough to send you spiraling, falling down the rabbit hole, spasming and gushing around him with no before indications. 

“That was unexpected,” he tells you, trying to laugh around a groan. “The hair, huh?” 

You try to tell him to shut up, but between the muffling comforter and the increased speed of his taut hips, it comes out jumbled and messy, a praising moan instead of a witty insult. Then, you realize, he’s not letting you win—you can’t win, not with him. Whether it be with your fragile heart or your overworked cunt, you’ll lose in the end. You just know it. 

He keeps a warm, grounding hand pressed to your scalp while he spills inside you, as deep as he can go, cursing and twitching. It makes you giggle, how he lays his full weight on you and then thinks better of it and rolls over to nuzzle by your side, instead. 

“This is good,” you tell him, sleepily kissing his bicep. 

He hums in agreement, setting the back of his hand on your shoulder blade, and then proceeding to adorably and immediately fall asleep. You happily join him after a wobbly trip to the bathroom.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Fuck Up Chapter 5

Summary:  Bucky fucked up.  A few times.  Will his best friend ever be able to forgive him?

Warnings: language, smut, mentions of war, injury, pregnancy

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Bucky pulled up at 2:53 p.m. to the little house. He stared at it, admiring just how much it looked like Y/N’s style before parking his bike and slowly walking up to the door. He adjusted his backpack as he took a deep breath, then knocked. He heard the footsteps behind the door and tried to steel himself.

The door opened to reveal Y/N. She froze as she gazed up at him. Bucky stared back at her, unsure of what to say or how to start the conversation. After a minute of them just looking at each other Y/N finally gave him a small smile. “Hey Buck,” she greeted him quietly.

Bucky let out a sputtered breath that he was unaware he was holding. “Hi,” he replied. He felt like he was frozen, stuck to the spot where he stood, his heart hammering in his chest.

Y/N watched him amusedly. “Would you like to come in?”

Bucky nodded, then rigidly moved forward and walked inside the house. He stood in the small entryway as she shut the door behind him then passed him to stand by the wall. “You can put your stuff there,” she instructed, pointing towards a storage spot on the opposite wall.

“Thank you,” Bucky said, quickly shedding his shoes, helmet, backpack and his jacket. He turned back to her, seeing her gnawing at her lower lip as she looked toward the hallway. “Y/N,” Bucky said quietly. She looked back at him, releasing her lip and licking her lips. He felt the tears build in his eyes again as he looked at her. “Honey I’m so sorry,” Bucky cried, shutting his eyes tight.

Y/N sighed then reached out and took one of his hands. “Come on.” She led him over to the couch behind her and sat, gesturing for him to sit next to her. When they got comfortable she turned toward him and held one of his hands in both of hers. “I’m sorry for not telling you,” she said, her fingers softly massaging his hand. Bucky shook his head but she shushed him. “No, I need to say this. I know I should have told you the moment I found out, but I didn’t want to distract you while you were out there and be the reason you weren’t focused. There’s nothing I can do about it now but say I’m sorry,” she paused, swallowing harshly and looking down. “And I’m sorry for running away. From you, Becca, your parents. I thought I needed to handle it on my own for some reason, but I didn’t, I know that now. I just needed a break, and it turned into me getting scared and isolating myself. I don’t blame you,” she looked back up at him, making sure he was looking at her and listening. “Do you hear me? I don’t blame you. We weren’t thinking. But when I saw those two lines? And heard that little heartbeat? I couldn’t give him up. And that became one of the best things that’s ever happened in my life.”

Bucky’s tears never stopped. He could sit and listen to her forever, and he had a glimmer of hope at her words. “I fucked up that morning,” he turned to face her more, his hands gripping her fingers firmly. “I should have woken you up. I should have said a proper, real goodbye. We should have talked about it before I left. But I couldn’t…I couldn’t handle it. And I’m sorry,” he choked back a sob, “I’m so sorry that you felt like you had to do it all alone. I don’t deserve your forgiveness but, I hope I can work to earn it from you.” He raised her hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I promised you I’d come back home to you. You’ve always been home, Y/N. And now, with him…” Bucky opened her hands and kissed her palms.

Y/N was now crying, biting her bottom lip. “I forgive you, Bucky.” Bucky broke down and he leaned forward until his forehead rested against  her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him and held him, running her hands through his hair and kissing the top of his head. He held her against him as close as he could, crying into her chest. As his crying died down after a few minutes he kissed the spot over her heart and she inhaled shakily.

“I forgive you, Buck, but I’m not ready for anything like that,” Y/N said quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, pulling away and giving her space. “I didn’t mean…” He shook his head.

Just then a noise came from one of the back rooms and Bucky’s head whipped towards the sound. Y/N sighed again and stood. “I’ll be right back,” she said, walking towards the room. Bucky wiped his eyes as he tried to calm his thundering heart. He sat stiffly on the couch, waiting, until Y/N came back out a few minutes later with a bundled blanket in her arms. A tiny arm reached up out of the blanket and the tiny hand tapped her chin. “Bucky?” Y/N walked towards him slowly. Bucky’s eyes were wide, his mouth dropped open as he stared at the little bundle. “Would you like to meet him?”

Bucky nodded frantically and Y/N sat on the coffee table in front of him. She shifted her arms and moved the blanket so he could see the baby’s face. When he did he gasped lightly at just how similar it looked to him. He huffed a laugh, a small smile brightening his face as he leaned forward to look at him. “I named him Avriel James Barnes. I thought a cute nickname could be Avi,” Y/N spoke quietly, watching Bucky’s face carefully. Bucky swallowed and smiled wider. “Would you like to hold him?”

Bucky nodded again and Y/N handed him the baby. Bucky slowly and carefully held Avi, his tiny head fitting into the palm of his hand as his other hand held him under his back. He gazed at Avi, memorizing his tiny features as Avi squirmed to get more comfortable. “Hey Avi,” Bucky cooed at him, his deeper voice seeming to relax him. “My little man,” he whispered as his thumb curved around and caressed Avi’s cheek. He looked back up at Y/N who was already looking at him. “He’s beautiful.”

Y/N smirked, “Just like his Daddy.”

Bucky scoffed and hung his head to hide his blush. He couldn’t stop looking at Avi. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here at first,” he said as he nuzzled his nose against Avi’s soft cheek. “But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.” He glanced at Y/N. “Can I please stay?”

“Of course you can stay,” Y/N said, reaching out and squeezing Bucky’s knee. “We’ll figure this all out.”

Bucky sighed this time. “My parents are dying to come see him.”

“They’re welcome,” Y/N said, blinking back some tears.

Bucky called his parents and Becca soon after and they drove out to meet them. Y/N hugged them and apologized, but all was forgiven with the family. Winifred and George were beside themselves as they held Avi, and Becca wouldn’t leave Y/N’s side, finally getting her friend back. After a few hours of catching up they went home while Bucky stayed.

“You can stay in this room,” Y/N offered him the guest bedroom. “My room is just across the hall and the nursery is next to it,” she gestured towards the doors. “If you need anything just let me know. Avi usually wakes up around 1:00 a.m. and then 5:00 a.m. for feedings, but that’s not consistent, so I hope you can get used to baby cries at all hours.”

“I’m sure I can manage,” Bucky said as he rocked Avi to sleep.

“Alright. Do you want to put him down?”

“I’ll try,” Bucky said, walking towards the nursery. Y/N followed him, staying at the doorway to let him have his moment. “Okay little man, here we go,” Bucky kissed Avi’s forehead lightly and slowly set him down into the crib. Avi squirmed a little and Bucky rubbed his belly and shushed him. “Goodnight Avi. I love you.” Y/N smiled at the cute moment. Bucky followed her out of the nursery and as quietly as possible closed the door behind him.

“Thank you, Buck,” Y/N said as she inched towards her door. “Um…goodnight then.”

“Right,” Bucky said, looking at her wistfully. He slowly took a step towards her. “Can I just ask for one thing?”

“I don’t know, you asking questions is dangerous,” Y/N teased him as she leaned against her door.

Bucky snorted. “It’s tame I promise.”

“Mhm,” Y/N gave him an unimpressed look.

Bucky smiled and shook his head. “Could I just have one of your famous hugs?”

Y/N’s gaze softened at that. “Sure.”

He opened his arms and she stepped into them, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding him close. She was a bit shorter than him, but he did his best to be close to her. His cheek rested on the top of her head as he breathed in her hair and his hands tenderly held her around her upper body. She squeezed him lightly, her face resting against his chest. They stayed like that for a while until Y/N started pulling away.

“Goodnight Buck.”

“Goodnight honey.”

****

A small whimper woke Bucky up. After Y/N had fallen asleep he had moved the mattress in the guest bedroom to the nursery and laid it next to the crib. He couldn’t seem to be able to relax until he knew that Avi was sleeping well. He’d already missed so much and didn’t want to miss a second more. As the whimpering got louder Bucky hoisted himself up and looked into the crib.

“Hey little man,” he whispered, reaching down and picking Avi up. “It’s okay.” Avi calmed down a little but was still squirming. Bucky checked to see if he needed to be changed and when he didn’t he took him out of the room. He went to Y/N’s room and knocked before entering. “Y/N,” he called to her lowly. She didn’t hear him so he moved towards her bed. “Y/N,” he sat on the opposite side from her on her bed and reached over, nudging her shoulder. She stirred and groaned.

“What?” she said groggily and turned towards him.

“I think it’s feeding time,” Bucky murmured to her, then Avi let out a wail.

“Okay, I hear you,” Y/N yawned and fully turned over. She reached for Avi and Bucky helped tuck him next to her in bed. Without thinking she lifted up her shirt and helped Avi latch onto her breast. Bucky looked away, a deep blush on his cheeks. Y/N seemed to remember he was there and chuckled dryly. “It’s not anything you haven’t seen before, Buck, it’s fine.” Bucky scoffed before looking back at her. “Might as well lay down,” she yawned again as Avi fed, making little suckling sounds. “He’s gonna be a minute.”

Bucky grinned and got himself comfortable in her bed. He turned to face her and watched her feed Avi as she closed her eyes, her arms cocooning Avi into a little bubble on the bed. He kept smiling, amazed by the beauty of the moment. The woman he loved with his baby. He had always loved her, and was frustrated with himself that it took almost losing her to realize it fully. He knew it would take time to build that trust and friendship, let alone anything more romantic with Y/N again, and he was willing to do whatever it took to get to that point with her. He reached over and pushed some of her hair that was hanging in her face back with his fingers, then caressed her face with the back of his fingers softly. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him sleepily. Bucky smiled at her, and she smiled back. They would get there, he knew it.

[marvel-ous-m]

Eddie Munson’s Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps (4/5)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Five

Ao3 Link

A.N.: I can’t believe we’re already at the penultimate chapter! I know it seems crazy that it’ll all get wrapped up after this, but I promise it will. You’ll have to forgive me for the D&D game description... in addition to being a Stranger Things nerd, I have been a D&D nerd for the last ten or so years, so describing a campaign is super fun for me and I sometimes can get off-track. Speaking of which, I did some 1st edition research but I mostly play 5th, so apologies if there are any discrepancies! All that to say, hopefully you can pick up on the symbolism in the campaign scene, too! Okay, rant over, now onto the chapter. 

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“Alright, Sir Grant the Good, roll a perception check.” 

The familiar clatter of dice against the wood tabletop filled the room, and it seemed that the entire party held their breath to hear Grant’s result. 

“15 plus three- what’ll an 18 get me?”

Eddie hummed, tapping a finger on his chin. “You see a pair of eyes staring back at you from deep in the tree line. They’re slightly yellow, certainly belonging to an animal, and seemingly a large one.” Eddie pauses to roll a die, then hisses under his breath. “The animal meets your eyes and sees you’ve spotted it. It lets out a low growl- what do you do?” 

Grant groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, um- I draw my sword and I wave to Mistress Emery and Sir Geoffrey.” 

“Sir Geoffrey stands beside Sir Grant and readies his bow.” Jeff speaks from his seat next to Grant, holding a D20 between his fingers, ready to roll initiative.

Gareth grinned, leaning forward in his chair to get a better view of the map on the table. “I come up to stand next to Sir Grant and ready myself to cast call lightning.”

“Um, sorry, can I-” Steve whispered from his place at the table, a chair that Eddie had moved up to have Steve sit next to him while he DM’d. Eddie turned to Steve, raising an eyebrow. 

“What’s up, Steve? You’re free to speak whenever you want, you don’t have to just watch quietly.” Eddie nudged Steve’s side, encouraging the jock to speak. 

“Yeah, um, it’s just-” Steve cleared his throat, then looked at the other three members of Hellfire. “Mistress Emery is a Druid, right? So like, isn’t her animal handling through the roof or whatever? Why don’t you try and take care of the animal before you try to kill it?” 

Gareth blinked in surprise, shot a look at Jeff and Grant, then turned to Eddie. “He knows D&D?!”

“He is sitting right here.” Steve muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. 

“Right- sorry, what Gareth meant to say is- how do you know D&D?” Jeff gave Gareth a warning glare, then turned his attention Steve’s way. 

Steve sighed, shrugging somewhat awkwardly. “I babysit some middle schoolers. This one kid, Dustin, he’s obsessed with this stuff. Honestly all of them are, but I spend the most time with Dustin. He brought up a druid recently when we were walking around the tracks- sounded kinda interesting, so I listened.” Steve’s eyes shifted to stare down at the tabletop then, and he frowned to himself. “I used to pick up Nancy’s little brother from their campaigns, too. I’d usually have to wait around for at least thirty minutes for them to wrap things up before we could get a move on.” 

The party sat in silence for a few moments, processing the revelation about Steve’s D&D knowledge. Finally Grant hummed in thought, then turned to Gareth. “He’s got a point. Plus, if we don’t attack immediately we save some spell slots, potentially some HP too.” 

“Yeah, but the thing is growling! It’s probably going to pounce at us any minute now.” Gareth huffed, crossing his arms. 

“Maybe it’s hurt. That could be a warning growl rather than it trying to pounce at us.” Jeff reasoned. “Just give it a try, Gareth. I’ll keep an arrow loaded and I can flank while you do an animal handling check so that if it attacks I can try and shoot at it before it does any damage.” 

Gareth frowned, clearly annoyed, but nevertheless held up a D20. “Fine. I approach the forest line and hold a hand out in the direction of the animal.” 

“Roll for animal handling.” Eddie flipped through his binder of notes as he spoke, easily finding the page he was looking for. 

Gareth dropped the dice on the table, eyebrows shooting up in surprise when he read the resulting roll. “Huh- Nat 20, and I’ve got a plus five on my modifier. What’ll that do for me?” 

“The animal walks out of the forest, and you know from your studies that you’re now face to face with an Owlbear. The beast makes another growling sound, but is far less menacing. You see that Jeff was correct- the animal has a deep slash running from one of its talons up to its chest. You can tell that it originated from a sword, but the blood around the beast’s beak tells you that whatever fighter that had tried to attack the owlbear previously lost that battle. You can tell that the animal is more scared than anything. What do you do?” 

“Um… okay. I cast cure wounds and then reach into my pack and provide the Owlbear with a piece of dried meat to show it that it can trust me?” 

Eddie nodded, pulling a sticky note from his binder and handing it to Gareth, smirking as he did. “The Owlbear takes the food, trusts you, and decides to stay with your party. Here are its stats, it’ll now obey your commands and fight alongside you until its dying breath. Congratulations, Mistress Emery.” 

“Holy shit! We have an Owlbear now, that’s so fucking cool.” Grant grins, nudging Gareth’s side. “Good work, man.”

Gareth scanned the sticky note, then smiled at Steve. “Thank Steve, he’s the one who suggested it. Did you sneak a look at Eddie’s notes or something?” 

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, it just sounded like a better alternative.” 

“I made it injured so your band of fighters would have a better chance of killing the thing, but Steve’s little stunt had me thinking on my feet.” Eddie spoke up, then winked in Steve’s direction. Steve ducked his head in response, a blush playing at his cheeks. Interesting. 

“Thanks, man.” Jeff nodded in Steve’s direction. “Maybe you should play with us next time. You seem to know your stuff.”

Steve snorted at that, shaking his head once again. “I barely know anything. Besides, all the dice and numbers would probably confuse the hell outta me. But… uh, thanks for the offer. Maybe one day.” 

The party moved on with the campaign, killing some goblins on their route as they followed a map they had received from a barkeep at the beginning of the adventure. Steve chimed in occasionally when he found something interesting, and Eddie even had him roll a few times for some of the encounters. By the end of the campaign, the party was actively strategizing with him, and Steve was grinning ear to ear and giving his opinions on what to do next. The party ended up defeating the ‘big bad’ at the end, a goblin king and four of its soldiers. They recovered some treasure and a map, which Eddie told them would be the subject of the next chapter of their campaign. 

It was about 7pm when they finally wrapped everything up, cleaned the room out, locked up, and walked together out to the parking lot. Steve, who had been pretty awake and alert for the entirety of the playthrough, was now looking much more exhausted. He waved goodbye to the boys and pulled his coat tighter around himself, then rushed from the back door of the school to his car through the biting November air. 

The four members of Hellfire watched as Steve sped off, then stood together quietly under the awning of Hawkins High. Gareth broke the silence, crossing his arms to stave off the cold. “Alright, I’ll admit it. I was hesitant to believe it, but you’re right. Harrington’s cool.” 

“You were right about the other stuff too, Eddie. He didn’t look too good. Do you know what happened? Why Billy pounded on him last weekend?” Jeff spoke up next, fidgeting with a string hanging off of his sweater. 

Eddie sighed, producing a cigarette from his coat pocket and lighting it with his zippo. “Nope.” Eddie popped the ‘p’ when he spoke, then took a long drag of the cigarette. “Barely had a chance to ask him about it, and he deflected any time I tried to get more information outta him. I think it all really messed him up, but he doesn’t want to admit it.” 

The party stood in silence for a few more minutes, all lost in thought. This time, Grant broke the silence. “My mom wants me home for dinner by 7:30, so I gotta get going. But I’m cool with letting Steve into the party if everyone else is. Looks like it’d be good for him- probably good for us, too. He’s cool.” Grant zipped up his sweatshirt as he spoke, then pulled car keys out of his pocket. “Need a ride, Gareth?”

“Yeah, thanks man. I’m cool with letting Steve hang with us, too. Just let us know what we need to do Eddie.” Gareth waved goodbye to Jeff and Eddie, then followed Grant to his car. 

“How ‘bout you, Jeff? Got anything against letting Steve into Hellfire?” Eddie questioned quietly. He took another long drag from the cigarette, watching as the smoke he breathed out disappeared into the cold night air. 

“You know it’s fine by me, man.” Jeff paused, then sighed. “I am a little concerned, though.” 

Eddie frowned. “About what?”

“About you.” Jeff moved his attention from the stray thread on his sweater to Eddie, crossing his arms. “About him, too. I’ve known you the longest out of everyone here, Eds. I can tell when you’ve got a crush. Harrington’s fragile- you said it yourself, and you saw how he was when he mentioned Nancy. It looks like everything is really fresh for him right now. All I’m asking is for you to keep that in mind as you move forward in making him feel welcome. I’m worried that things could go sideways. Either one of you, or both of you, for that matter, could be really hurt if things go wrong. Just… take it slow.” Jeff checked his watch then, wincing when he saw the time. “I gotta run. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Like Gareth said, just let us know what we can do to help Steve feel welcome.” 

Eddie nodded, watching as Jeff got into his car and drove off, leaving Eddie and his van alone in the parking lot. Eddie leaned against the brick wall of the school and dropped his cigarette onto the ground, watching as the light fizzled out in the thin layer of snow. 

Step Two: Get the Party to Come Around on Steve Harrington, complete. Time for the Step Three (which would likely be the last step in his plan): Get Steve Fully Integrated Into Hellfire. 

…with one important caveat. Do not fall harder for Steve Harrington. 

Easier said than done. 

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[life-at-hogwarts]

So cold (House of Gaunt)

Pairing: Ominis x GN!reader

Warnings: just a bit of fluff and drama

Wordcount: 1.3k

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

The first snow was always something special at Hogwarts. It turned the castle into something straight out of a fairy tale. You couldn’t help smiling to yourself when you heard the satisfying noise of fresh snow under your feet when you crossed the courtyard. Not that you particularly liked the winter but even you had to admit that the first snow had something magical. You were on your way to meet Sebastian and Ominis in the library to study together for the oncoming exams but since you were early you decided to take your time and took the longer way through the courtyard to catch a glimpse of the spectacle.

Suddenly something cold hit your temple and you quickly turned around to look for the culprit, expecting it to be Sebastian who was always up for some sort of mischief. Instead, you discovered Ominis, now innocently waving at you from across the courtyard. Before you had time to process what had happened you were hit again, this time right in the face. “Just you wait you little…,” you growled and quickly grabbed a handful of snow, throwing it in his direction. Ominis however caught the snowball midair with his wand and sent it right back to you, landing another hit. Sometimes you forgot that Ominis, although blind, was one of the most powerful wizards at Hogwarts. He was the heir of Slytherin after all and according to Sebastian he was an excellent duelist who had humbled the cheeky brunette a number of times.

You decided to go for a different tactic and sprinted over to him tackling him to the ground. He let out a surprised grunt when he found himself laying in the snow, unable to get up because there was someone on top of him. Satisfied with yourself you gave him a quick kiss on the top of his nose, then scrambled to get up before someone could ask what you were doing.

“You know, I was trying to be sweet,” Ominis grumbled while he brushed the snow off his robes.

“What can I say? I like to play rough,” you giggled and gave him another kiss on the cheek. “Are alright though?”

“I will be once I get my hug,” he said innocently, yet when you obliged and wrapped your arms around him, he quickly took the chance to stuff a handful of snow down your shirt. You squealed when it melted and trickled down your back and Ominis laughed mischievously.

“Oh, you are so going to pay for that!”

A few minutes later both of you were soaking wet and out of breath after chasing each other around the courtyard, giggling like children. The light snowfall was slowly turning into a blizzard, and you started to shiver in the biting wind.

“Let’s get you inside, you’re freezing,” Ominis declared and offered you his hand. You took it and wanted to head towards the library when Ominis held you back. “Let’s go to the common room. We can warm ourselves at the fireplace.” A tempting offer you had to admit.

“What about Sebastian? He’s waiting for us in the library,” you reminded him.

“I’ll send him an owl.”

The Slytherin common room was empty. Most students had gone to the Quidditch match that was taking place that afternoon. You shook your head at this – you couldn’t share their enthusiasm for sitting in the freezing cold watching people on broomsticks throw around balls. Luckily Ominis and Sebastian shared your sentiment on Quidditch, and you could therefore avoid going to the games altogether. With everyone gone you quickly made your way to the fireplace and warmed your hands by the fire while Ominis sat down on the sofa, kicked off his shoes and curled up in a worn knit blanket. You spent a few more minutes enjoying the welcoming heat of the fire before you joined him and snuggled up to him. When he wrapped the blanket around both of you and pulled you closer you sighed contently and buried your face in his chest. Neither of you spoke for a while, and you listened to the gentle cackle of the fire and Ominis deepening breaths and concentrated on the feeling of his chest slowly lifting and lowering. His long, elegant fingers began stroking your hair and tracing your features and it felt like time stood still. Being with Ominis always felt like you were the only two people in this world, as if the universe froze to watch, in awe of two souls dancing to the tune of love. And just for a moment it was perfect.

------------------------

When you were called to the headmaster’s office you immediately knew what it was about.

 It was no secret that the Gaunts and headmaster Black were close. No doubt Marvolo had told on you. Yet nothing could have prepared you for what was waiting for you when you entered the office. Erebus Gaunt. Ominis father turned around when he heard you enter, his dark stare fixated on you. Headmaster Black gestured you to come closer. “You know why you’re here I presume?” he asked you solemnly. You held his gaze and nodded slowly. “Marvolo’s father asked to have a word with you. I will leave you alone so you can talk.” Please don’t leave me alone with him, you wanted to say but you know it was no use. You tried your best to keep your composure when Erebus sat down opposite you in the headmasters’ chair. “You assaulted my son.”

“He was being a foul-mouthed little brat,” you shot back but Erebus didn’t react.

“I know very well what this was about. In fact, that is why I’m here. You and I are going to have a little talk,” he declared calmly, yet there was something in his voice that sent shivers down your spine. Even when he was calm, Erebus seemed like a predator ready to pounce.

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, but we do. Sit. Down.”  Reluctantly you obeyed and slowly sat down on the chair opposite the head of the Gaunt family, avoiding his piercing stare. You could understand why Ominis always seemed to shrink when he was in a room with his family but forced yourself to sit upright, mirroring Erebus body language. It was clear that he was used to being in charge. He leaned back, observing your every move, not saying anything, seemingly waiting for you to pull back. It took all your willpower to remain expressionless in the uncomfortable silence that followed.

“I know that you are involved with Ominis. I should have guessed as much last time. Of course, he had to pick someone from an impure bloodline. To aggravate me no doubt,” Erebus broke the silence, his voice dripping with disgust.

“I can assure you our relationship has nothing to do with you,” you replied coolly.

“Shut your mouth, half-blood. I didn’t recall giving you permission to speak. You will leave my son today.”

“I have no intention of doing that.”

Another uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Then Erebus leaned in, so close you could see your own reflection in his dark eyes, and you instinctively backed away from him. “This was not a request. Fail to do as I say, and I will see to it that he suffers. He will never see Hogwarts or his friends ever again. I have allowed his nonsense long enough.”

Trying to regain your composure you straightened your back and coldly replied, “He doesn’t even live with you anymore. You have no power over him.” 

Erebus eyes darkened. No one had ever talked back to him like that. Losing his patience he spat, “Don’t forget who I am, little brat. I have connections everywhere. One word and he will be in an asylum for the rest of his life, no questions asked.”

“You wouldn’t do that to your own son.”

A wicked smile formed on Erebus lips. “It’s your choice.”

[the-kr8tor]

Woven Wheel

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Tags: use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is taller than the reader, CW food, FLUFF.

My Navigation

Thread the Needle Masterlist

CHAPTER 5 >>> CHAPTER 6

You sit on Hobie's rickety chair, on your lap is his emerald bed sheet, your hands expertly stitch together the large hole on the side of the cloth. Eyes glued to what you're doing, you don't notice Hobie's piercing gaze.

He's crouched over to the other side of the room, fixing the wiring of his answering machine. Hobie watches your cherry earrings sway as you move your head to the side to inspect your handiwork. The bags under your eyes are more prominent than the last time he saw you. He sighs, fingers wrapping around the wiring of his answering machine.

Hobie should've been more persuasive at telling you to stay home and get some much needed rest. But you being you, you won the argument, telling him that it'll be your place too once you graduate so you should come over and help with the cleaning and fixing. With that you already won, but then you added the fact that he already used a ticket from your favour card. Rolling your eyes through the payphone's receiver as if he can see you, you tell him that you always keep to your word. He relents, the only thing he can do now is to make sure you don't get too tired, opting to give you the easiest job, even if he means he has to do more.

So here you are sitting in his sparse living room, mending his bedsheet, watching as James walks over to you. You smile politely to the blonde, making small talk.

"You're gonna burn a hole right through her" Ned appears out of nowhere, whispering right in Hobie's ear.

Hobie pushes him off, Ned cackles at his annoyed reaction. "Fucker"

"You look like a lovesick teen, just go fuckin' tell her, you idiot" Ned sits down to Hobie's level, whispering to him. "Seriously, go do it before someone else does" as Ned says this, you laugh at something James said, the blonde smiles sheepishly at you. "Also I need to see you two finally get together before I leave. I deserve that much after watching you two yearn for each other the entire time I've known you lot"

Hobie frowns at what Ned says, fingers twisting the wiring in his hands faster, he jumps when a sudden jolt of electricity shocks him, the wiring falling from his hand "Fuck!" He yells, holding and shaking his hands.

You perk up, attuned to his scream of pain, stopping mid conversation. "You okay, Hobs?" Handing the linen to James, speed walking the small distance towards Hobie's crouched form. "The hell did you do?" Crouching down, you hold his hands gingerly, massaging his calloused fingers. Probably the opposite of what you should do when somebody gets electrocuted.

"I'm okay, just a shock is all" Hobie stares at your hands gingerly holding his. You nod, still a little concerned.

Ned chuckles, Hobie stares daggers at his friend, shutting him up, a faint smirk staying on his lips. "Maybe you should let Yuri do that, she's good with that kind of stuff" Ned teases Hobie more.

"Let me do what?" Yuri enters the boat, a large box in her hands.

"I have it," Hobie grumbles.

You stand up, dropping Hobie's hands on his side, "oh, let me help you with that"

Ned stops you before you could get your hands over to the box. "Got it, y/n"

"I got it" Yuri lightly shoves Ned away, "I'm not a damsel in distress" she walks towards the pile of boxes on the side of the boat, dropping the large box next to the pile, "see, no sweat"

"When's lunch?" James pipes up, still holding Hobie's bedsheet.

"Mate, you barely did anything" Ned scrunches his nose, "you're right though, when's lunch, Hobie?"

You laugh, Yuri rolls her eyes, a ghost of a smile on her red lips.

"Bunch of leeches, the lot of you" he murmurs. Tapping you on your arm, "what do you want?" Hobie asks you.

"Pizza or fish and chips" Ned says before you could answer, a teasing smile on his lips.

"I asked her not you" Hobie huffs.

"I second that," James agrees, pointing at Ned.

"A coke too," Yuri adds.

"Christ" Hobie places his hands over his hips, "you good with either?" He turns his head towards you.

"A large coke for me, please" you add to the teasing.

"I expected better from you" Hobie narrows his eyes, you giggle at his expression.

—

The chair creaks from under you, finishing the last stitches on the bed sheet, you try to make conversation with Yuri. She sorts through the various boxes for some utensils to eat with. The men left a few minutes ago to buy lunch, leaving you and Yuri inside the Houseboat.

"So what are you gonna study?" You break the silence.

"Getting right to the point, huh?" Yuri teases but you take it too seriously, eyes widening, afraid that you might've offended her.

"Sorry, I didn't mean–"

"I was joking," Yuri stops her perusal of boxes, now looking straight at you with her piercing gaze, "you can ask" she chuckles, "seriously, don't apologize"

"Oh, okay, sorr–" Yuri raises a sharp brow, you backtrack, suddenly nervous from her stare, "right, so um, what are you gonna study?"

Yuri smiles, "Architecture, I know, it's a surprise, huh?" She gestures towards her dark clothes, combat boots and spiked denim jacket.

"Kind of? I mean look at me, do I look like a fashion student?" Gesturing towards your not so plain clothes, but still pretty tame from what you used to wear back in the day. You opted for a pair of bell bottomed jeans instead of your usual straight cut denim, your long sleeved blouse rustles slightly when a draft blows in. The detailed design of hummingbirds stitched on the collar of your shirt practically comes alive every time you turn your head. You're slowly trying to ease back to your usual self, following Danny's advice. And it actually works since you had a major breakthrough with your design a few nights ago. You're keeping it a secret, a little surprise for your model.

"You're a fashion student?!" She feigns surprise.

Chuckling, you see why her and Hobie are friends.

"I joke" Yuri winks, "I stopped tryin' to blend in a looong time ago" she crosses the small threshold, sitting in front of you on an equally rickety chair, "you look different, they stare, you look plain, they whisper. You can't bloody win. Might as well be myself out of spite, right?" she lifts her leg to cross it over the other. "Così va il mondo'' she sighs.

"Such is life" you translate, Yuri smirks, eyes twinkling.

"I see why Hobie likes you so much," she leans on the wooden table, elbows propped up, hand holding her chin. "You're not just pretty, but smart too, huh?"

Smiling genuinely at her, you take note of her freckles, dotting her face like stars, her septum piercing glinting in the low light of the lamp you've placed on the table.

The door to the houseboat swings open, the boys' bickering slices the silence inside the boat.

"Fuckin' told you to hold it on its side!" Hobie argues with James.

"I did! It slid down! I can't control gravity, Hobie!" James retaliates.

Ned enters the space first, he looks so out of it, face frowning, exasperated at his two companions. He holds a liter of coke in his hand, the other a plastic bag of something hot inside.

Yuri side eyes you, shaking her head at the men arguing, you chuckle. She stands up reluctantly, going towards the pile of boxes to take out the utensils.

You follow her lead, walking to meet halfway with the tired Ned. He hands you the bottle of coke.

"I feel like I've aged ten bloody years"

You chuckle, helping Ned place the food on the wobbly table.

"Wait, place it on the floor, that table's not stable enough" Hobie stops you, grabbing the soda bottle from your hands, he juggles it in between the paper bag he's carrying.

"I got it, Hobie" you take the bottle from his hand, " 's not that heavy, you're already carrying too much"

"Where do we eat then, doofus?" Yuri asks the question that's on everyone's mind, she holds plates of various sizes in her hands, mismatched spoons and forks placed on top of the ceramic, in her other hand are mugs, hanging precariously on her ring clad fingers.

"Well, idiot," Hobie retaliates, "the floor is your best friend" He sits down on the newly polished floor, the wood gleaming in all its glory. The paper bag almost spills over when he sits down, grabbing the top of the bag before the contents decorate the clean floors.

"The chips!" James dramatically yells.

"They're fine!" Hobie clicks his tongue, he taps the floor next to him. "Right here, y/n" he softened up when he said your name.

You don't waste a second to cross the space, dropping down next to him. You sit criss crossed, cradling the liter bottle like a baby.

"You need a dining table or at least a settee that doesn't give you tetanus when the spring pokes you" Ned unceremoniously sits down, adjacent to you, he yelps when hot oil singes his finger. "Where else are we gonna sit?" He licks the oil off his red fingertip.

"You gonna buy me one, Neddy?" Hobie gives you a box full of chips, you give him a small 'thank you'.

"I'll buy you one if you actually do what we discussed earlier" Ned replies. Hobie narrows his eyes, non-verbally telling him to shut up.

You look at Ned quizzically, he shrugs, handing everyone their share of fried fish. Your stomach grumbles at the sight. Everyone sits in a circle, the pizza box and soda lays in the middle of the group.

Yuri snorts, knowing what he meant. James opens the pizza box, the savory smell coating the small space. He quickly grabs a slice, gobbling it down.

"Bloody hell, use a plate at least. Were you raised in a barn?" Yuri grimaces, handing James a plate. He nods a thank you, mouth full of dough. "Here you go, love" she hands you a couple of plates and utensils.

"Thanks,Yuri" You hand the spare utensils to Hobie, Leaning forward to grab a slice.

"What's all this? You two best mates now?" Hobie asks, biting off a chip.

"You jealous? We're just lookin' out for each other. Ain't that right, sweets?" Yuri winks at you. You stop chewing for a hot second.

Ned guffaws while James laughs with a mouthful of cheese and sauce. Hobie rolls his eyes, handing you his makeshift glass so you could pour him a drink.

You pour him one while Hobie casually rolls your sleeves up to your elbows so you don't splash soda on it. The fizz rises up towards the edge of the mug. "It's not that cold anymore"

"I'll manage" Hobie thanks you by tapping his mug towards yours, it clinks when they meet.

"Best fish and chips in town, fuck I'm gonna miss this" Ned says.

"They have fish and chips in Richmond," Yuri scoffs, biting into the doughy pizza.

"I know they have fish and chips! But not this fish and chips" he shows his plate like a commercial, hand gesturing around his plate.

"They literally all taste the same" James quips, hand reaching for tissues.

"They would taste the same for you because you don't stop to actually taste it" Ned rebukes.

Their banter fades in the background as Hobie scooches next to you, legs kissing yours, "you want my slice?"

"Hmm? You don't like it?" You lean further into him, "is it the cheese?"

"Nah, I just don't like it" he leans towards you, further closing the already small distance, breath mixing in with yours. "It's too.." he tries to find the right word to describe it, "..gooey for me"

You snort at his choice of word "hehehe say it again"

"What's so funny about 'gooey'?"

"You saying 'gooey', big punk Hobie saying gooey is funny" you take the pizza from his plate, taking a bite from it. "Oh, you're right, it is gooey"

"Doughy, fuck that's the word I was looking for"

You giggle, "I think 'doughy' has the same effect as 'gooey'"

"You're very funny" Hobie stops for a second, unabashedly staring at your lips, he brings his thumb over to it, wiping at the corner of your mouth. You don't have time to react, freezing into place. "Sorry, you got sauce on it" he continues wiping, thumb grazing your lower lip. You stare at him, eyes wide, breath hitching in your throat. "Got it"

You clear your throat, "Thanks"

"Oi lovebirds!" Ned whistles to get your attention, Hobie glares at Ned.

"We're not dogs, what the hell do you want?"

"Pass me the hot sauce" Ned points at the packets near your crossed legs.

Hobie scoffs, tossing Ned the packets. It bounces off Ned's mug, almost falling inside his drink. Ned flips Hobie the bird as a thank you. Hobie lovingly answers the same.

The group munches on their food quietly for a few minutes, you relish in the peace. Until James burps. Yuri scrunches her nose, you hide your giggle with a bite of your lip.

"So, what are you planning on doing after you graduate?" Yuri bravely asks, her utensils clinking on the plate as she finishes eating.

"Getting right to the point, huh?" You tilt your head at Yuri, copying the words she uttered a few minutes ago.

Yuri smiles, "aye, you got me there"

Hobie watches the interaction, glad that you made friends with Yuri.

"Well there's this fashion house where an old friend of mine works at, that would be nice working with him. And it's right here in London so I don't have to go far" you wipe your fingers with a napkin.

"Think big, y/n! What's your ultimate goal?" Yuri pats your knee.

"She's right, go big or go home, eh?" Ned chides in.

"You guys are laying it on me, huh?" You shyly say.

"My da applied to the biggest radio station in London when he was younger, he never thought he'd even get accepted! Now look at him, the most famous radio host in the country!" James adds in the conversation.

"Wait, who's your dad?" Hobie asks.

"JJJ" James answers, huffing his chest in pride.

You all look at him surprised, Hobie slowly turns to look at you, mirroring the same expression.

"What the fuck? You're just gonna drop that insane lore just like that?" Ned looks at James, shocked.

"Yeah, and you know what?" James shifts in his seat, hand curling around his drink. "I'm not even gonna elaborate" he snickers, drinking loudly from his mug.

"I see the resemblance" you lean a bit to look at James closely.

"Yeah, just tape a mustache on him and he's a carbon copy" Hobie agrees.

"Let's shut the fuck up about him, yeah?" Yuri cuts in, James softly mumbles out a 'hey'. "You don't even want to tell us" Yuri points a finger in James' direction. "Let's go back to the topic at hand, y/n, what do you want to do after graduation?"

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Hobie places his chin on your shoulder, comforting you.

"Aye, you don't have to answer if you don't feel comfortable telling us. I mean I am asking what your hopes and dreams are. It's a tall order." Yuri tells you.

"It's fine, really" you smile bashfully, "I– there's a fashion house in Paris, that I've been dreaming of working at since I was a kid. I guess that's what I want to do after." You fiddle with your thumbs.

Hobie watches the twinkle in your eyes, he smiles sadly at the prospect of you moving so far away from him, but he can't help but feel proud. He sighs, avoiding looking at your face, instead he stares at your discarded plate.

"Now that's the answer I was lookin' for"

"Thought you wanted to model?" James asks, looking confused in your direction. You tilt your head to ask him what he meant. "You two did go to a runway show, I thought it's because you wanted to model or something"

"Oh, that was for research" you answer.

Ned snorts "can't imagine Hobie at a runway show, especially him walking down on it" Ned shields his face with his arms when Hobie throws him another packet of sauce, this time aiming right for his face. It bounces off harmlessly, Ned sticks his tongue out. Hobie mumbles out a 'child', glaring at his friend.

"Mate, show us your runway walk!" James stands up, posing exaggeratedly.

"You first" Hobie lifts his head off your shoulder.

"I asked you first!"

"You asked for jack shit, fuck off" Hobie says flatly. You laugh at them both.

"Yeah, Hobie he did ask you first" Yuri grabs her plate to put in the sink.

"Why don't you do it then?" Hobie raises a pierced brow.

"Sure, If everyone does it" she leans casually on the kitchen island, a towel over her shoulder. "What do you say? You up for a little modeling?" Yuri smirks at you.

"Uh, no thank you" you stand up grabbing yours and Hobie's plates.

"I'll do it, I've got the physic for it" Ned stands up, cleaning up his station. "Let's clean this up, so we have the space"

"Let's goooo!" James grabs his dirty plates, quickly putting it in the sink.

"I've never seen him clean that fast" Hobie whispers to you, taking the plates from your hands. You smile at him, crouching down to take the empty mugs from the floor.

Once the floor gets cleaned (again) James hypes himself up, getting ready to walk. You grab your digital camera from your bag. Maybe if you assign yourself as the photographer they wouldn't notice you not walking with them.

You don't know if it's the sugar high from the soda or James' instigation but whatever it is they all comply. Yuri has a rare grin on her face, Ned punches Hobie's arm while he laughs loudly. James jumps up and down excitedly.

Hobie chuckles when you show him the camera, "go get a good angle of me"

"That's going to be hard" you tease. Hobie elbows your side lightly. Walking to the front of the 'runway', you crouch down for the best angle to take their pictures.

"Alright James! Go" Ned pats James' back.

James walks dramatically, hips swaying from side to side. Once he reaches you, he pouts, exaggerated. Pointing at the camera.

The flash goes off, James nods appreciatively, walking back to the rest of the group. Ned is up next, walking casually. He flips the bird at the camera. You laugh loudly, music to Hobie's ears. He's glad their shenanigans are making you laugh.

Yuri walks like she owns the place, hand on her waist, striking a pose at the end. She pauses for a second so you could take her picture, Yuri throws you a 'rock on sign' with her hand, it shows clearly in the grainy screen. She walks back to the laughing group.

Yuri grabs Hobie's shoulders, shaking him. "Your turn, Hobart!" She chuckles deeply, pushing him towards the starting position, "you better strike a bloody pose or you'll have to do it again!" The other two laugh at Yuri's teasing.

Hobie huffs, walking normally towards you. The instigators yell at him to do it properly.

"Hobie, you fucker! That's not how a proper model walks!" Ned exclaims.

He stops in front of you, the flash goes off, as you laugh at the picture you've taken. Hobie lifts you easily by your arm. You stand up, grinning at him.

"What are you doing?" You say, chuckling.

"You think you could escape? You gotta walk with me" Hobie throws his arm around your shoulder, cackling loudly.

You try to wiggle out of his hold. "Nooo!" Your smile betrays you as you try to hopelessly push him away. Yuri takes the camera from your hand, angling it to take numerous pictures of you two.

You laugh loudly as Hobie imitates (as best as he could) how a model walks, with you in his arms. The flash goes off in tandem with your strides, making it look like you're on an actual runway.

"Love it!" James cheers you on.

"Work it!" Ned adds, clapping his hands.

You stop at the end, grinning from ear to ear. Yuri keeps taking pictures, you're sure it's gonna run out of space soon enough, but it's well worth it. Hobie bends at his waist, grabbing the back of your knees, his other hand slides to your back, looping his arm across it, pulling you to his chest, lifting you off the ground. You yelp, quickly looping your arms to his neck.

"Hobie! What the fu–" click! Yuri captures the moment.

"That one's for the front page!" Yuri laughs, checking the picture on the small screen. James and Ned scooch closer to Yuri, peeking at the pictures. They laugh and smile at the pictures you've taken.

Hobie still holds you up, hands warm against your jeans. "You come here often?" He smiles down at you, eyes twinkling at your flustered face.

"I could strangle you right now" you quip.

"You're not tall enough" Hobie scoffs even though he has a smile on his lips.

"I literally have my arms around your neck"

"Kinky" he narrows his eyes at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

You chuckle nervously, "you can let me go now" you say despite not actually wanting him to let go.

"Nah, you look great in this angle" heat rises in your cheeks when he winks at you.

"Well you don't, you've got a bit of a double chin in this angle" you tease back, almost not getting the sentence out completely because of your laughs.

"I could just drop you, y'know"

"But you won't" you lean up slightly, pinching the back of his neck.

"You sure 'bout that?" He pretends to drop you, you gasp a bit, smacking your palm on his chest. He chuckles at your reaction. "I'm not gonna drop you" he fixes his hold on you.

"Yeah, but I'm getting heavy aren't I?" You grin at how he's trying really hard at carrying you.

"No" he lies, slowly putting you back on the ground.

"Mm-hmm, told you so"

—

You hum as Yuri gives you an unexpected hug goodbye, reciprocating the embrace, you pull away, holding her at arm's length.

"Watch us play at the concert?" Yuri asks you.

"Of course, I'll be there"

"Ohh, we'll definitely win then" Yuri goes in for another hug, squeezing you.

You and Hobie stand on the boat, watching them drive off in Yuri's beetle.

The sun slowly sets in the horizon, bathing the boat in its orange light. A breeze rushes past, hugging your coat tighter around you.

"You want a ride?"

"Ride?" You got distracted by the rays hitting his face just right, accentuating his sculpted face.

"Yeah, ride y'know, vroom vroom?" He acts as if he's revving his motorcycle's engine.

You laugh again, face hurting from all the smiling. "Are you trying to get rid of me already?"

"Never" he holds the crook of your elbow. "You're not too tired?" Concern on his face.

"A bit, but I'm not done yet with your bed sheet" you stand closer to him, the tips of your shoes kissing his. "Why do you have so many holes in them? I think I know what to get you for your birthday"

"I'm genuinely excited for new bed sheets" he rubs your arm, warming you.

"That's a sign you're getting old"

"Fuck off, I'm only a year older than you" he scoffs with no ounce of malice in it.

"Mm-hmm you're a homeowner now, how does it feel Mr. Hobart Brown" you lift an imaginary microphone to him. He finds your playfulness endearing, smiling softly at your good mood.

He plays along, leaning towards the invisible mic. "It'll be better once you've moved in"

You bite your lip, bashfully looking at him through your eyelashes. Moving the mic back to you "You've gone soft, can you tell us about that?"

Hobie sighs loudly, almost blurting out exactly why he's gone soft around the edges. He holds your wrist, pretending to talk into the imaginary mic "Well Ms. L/n, it comes with age" he surrenders just so he can hear you laugh wholeheartedly again.

"Knew it" You poke his chest. "Now, let me help you set up your bed. I can't let you sleep on the floor"

He bites his tongue at the innuendo that appears in his mind, "I'm not gonna sleep on the floor, I have a mattress"

"Yeah, a mattress that's on the floor!" You put your hands on your hips.

Hobie surrenders to you once again, at least he gets to hangout with you more. He's already getting ready for the screaming match when you two get frustrated with building the complicated bed frame.

—

You run from the metro station, legs straining, huffing, trying to regulate your breathing. Maybe it's a mistake to wear your new boots to the show, your heels clack against the hard pavement, increasing your chance of stumbling and breaking your ankle.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! You internally curse. You promised the band you'll be there for their final show, I can't believe I overslept! Please tell me they're not on yet! Regretting sleeping late because of your project. You shouldn't have made that complicated embroidery.

You skid to a stop, holding up your ticket to show the security guard. He nods stiffly, you practically run towards the side of the stage, dodging the growing crowd. You quickly gaze over the large stage, finding the staff still setting it all up. Yes! They haven't started yet! Smiling victoriously.

You stop, heels skidding to a halt, smile fading away when you see an unknown woman right next to Hobie, whispering closely to his ear, bare arms around his neck, fingers fiddling with the metal chain he always wears.

Oh

A/N: This chapter made me miss my chaotic OCs 🥺 Thank you for reading! Consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

(please tell me if I missed any asterisks, they're placeholders for me during drafting. I feel like I missed some lol)

*pictures above are from pinterest*

[corroded-hellfire]

Where the Heart Is: Epilogue - Eddie Munson x Reader

Part 5

Summary: It’s moving day and the next chapter of your life with Eddie is beginning. And somewhere down the road, pieces of your heart collide with one another, making your anniversary all the more meaningful.

Note: The story has finally come to its close. It amazes me that this was never intended to be a series at all—it turned into one purely because it became so requested of me. It’s been a year since this fic first posted and the number of you who have stood by all this time to see it to the end hold such a special place in my heart. Thank you all for your kind words, generous reblogs, and all the love I’ve received over this story. I have loved writing in this world and would always be open to receiving requests in it. I hope you enjoy this little slice of their happily ever after 🧡

Words: 4.6k

[Where the Heart Is masterlist]

“Jesus Christ, Munson.”

Steve sits down on the edge of the U-Haul, trying to catch his breath after shoving Eddie’s amp on board. The bed of the moving truck is decently full already. The Harrington household was the first stop, and Steve’s things bound for Boston were loaded yesterday. 

Today at the Munsons, it’s time to do the heavy lifting. Well, for Eddie and Steve to do the heavy lifting. Not to say that you and Nancy aren’t helping, but you have the easier job of loading up the back of Eddie’s van with boxes full of clothes and other smaller and more delicate objects that are certainly lighter than the alternative. 

“What’re ya whining about now, Harrington?” Eddie says, sweat dripping from the curls that frame his face. His hair is in a bun at the base of his neck but it’s not enough to keep him cool in the late August heat. 

“That amp weighs more than your bed did,” Steve says. 

“No shit,” Eddie argues, wiping his sweaty forehead off on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Because one is a mattress and a basic frame to hold it up and the other is a goddamn expensive piece of musical equipment. I hope you didn’t ding it at all.”

“I’ll ding you,” Steve mumbles under his breath as he stands back up.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Nothing, nothing,” Steve says as he hops up the steps back into the trailer. 

“How ya doing, babe?” you ask, coming over to Eddie after carrying a box of his D&D stuff over to his van. 

“Hot. Sweaty. Tired.”

“Aww,” you coo and wrap your arms around his neck. It doesn’t matter in the slightest to you that he’s all sweaty—you’ve been the cause of him getting sweaty many times before. Eddie rests his hands on your hips and pecks your lips. 

“Eddie!” Wayne calls from inside.

“Yeah?” 

“Are you bringing your desk?”

Your boyfriend chews on his bottom lip, deliberating. “Well, do you wanna keep it?”

“What the hell do I need a desk for?” Wayne asks, making you chuckle. 

“Okay, we’ll take it.” Eddie huffs a laugh and gives your hip a squeeze.

“I’m glad that Wayne’s getting a proper bedroom back,” you say.

“And I’m sure he’s glad that we’re bringing the old bed with us and he’s getting a new one. I don’t think he’d get much sleep on it thinking about what you and I have done on it.”

“That doesn’t even include you on your own for years before that,” you tease. Eddie digs his fingers into your ribs, making you squeal and giggle as he tickles you.

Nancy comes out of the trailer, balancing two medium sized boxes in her arms. She raises her eyebrows at Eddie as she walks past him to get to his van.

“Wayne looks like he’s planning on helping Steve carry that desk out here. I’d get your ass in there,” she warns.

Eddie sighs. “Ugh, stubborn old man.” He kisses the top of your head before disappearing inside his home—or rather, former home. 

You walk over and help Nancy load up the two boxes she just brought out. Both of you walk over towards the U-Haul and Nancy smacks her hand against the side of it.

“I am not looking forward to driving in this thing with Steve all day,” she says. “He’s never driven something this big but of course he’d never admit that it’ll be difficult.”

You chuckle and nod along, knowing your boyfriend would be the same way. You open your mouth to respond when you hear yelling coming from inside.

“No, tilt it like this!”

“I know what I’m doing!”

“Remind me to never let you work on my car if this is the way you handle things!”

Nancy sighs and shakes her head.

“Do you think it’s too late to tell them that they can’t move in with us?” she asks. 

Once everything is on the truck and ready to go, Steve and Nancy say their goodbyes to Wayne and slip into the front seats, giving you and Eddie the chance for a more private farewell. You give Wayne a big hug, which he happily returns.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him,” you promise.

Wayne chuckles and shakes his head as the two of you pull apart. 

“Just worried about how long before you call me to come pick him up ‘cause you’ve had enough of him.”

“Never,” you assure Wayne, taking one of his weathered hands in yours and giving it a squeeze.

“You heard her,” Eddie says, nodding his head towards you. “She’s never letting me go. I’m gonna be a prisoner.”

“Locked up in a nice Boston apartment with your girl and two of your best friends,” Wayne says, shaking his head. “When will justice be served?” 

When you step back from Wayne, you’re not sure if Eddie wants you to stay or go wait in the van while he says goodbye to the man who raised him. When your boyfriend playfully tugs your ear on the way to his uncle though, you take it as it’s fine for you to be here. 

“Well, I’ll see ya soon, Old Man,” Eddie says as he pulls Wayne in for a hug. 

“You drive safe, okay?” Wayne asks, his hand clapping his nephew on the back as they hug. “And I mean real safe, not ‘Eddie safe,’ okay? You got precious cargo there you’re carrying.” Wayne throws you a wink over Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Oh, I know,” Eddie says. He pulls back and sighs. “Gotta make sure my guitar gets to Boston unharmed.”

Wayne shakes his head and turns to you. “He ever acts up, just smack him on the back of the head. Like this.”

“Ow!” Eddie complains, reaching up to cover the spot where his uncle just thunked him. With a small giggle, you nod your head, affirming that you’ll know what to do.

There’s a brief moment of silence before Eddie sighs and claps his hand onto Wayne’s shoulder. 

“You take care, you hear me? Don’t make me start sending Red over here to check on you. Or maybe I’ll just call Abigail.”

At the sound of his new girlfriend’s name, Wayne rolls his eyes. 

“I can take care of myself. I’ll see you up there in Boston for Thanksgiving,” he says.

Eddie nods. He goes to take a step towards the van but twists and gives Wayne another hug instead.

“Thanks for everything, Wayne. I mean it. For everything.”

“You’re a good kid,” Wayne says as he hugs him back, tighter than the last time, you notice. “‘M proud of you, son.”

By the time they break apart, your eyes have misted over. Blinking away the tears seems to help, but one or two manage to escape and slide down your cheeks. 

Eddie walks over and laces his fingers with yours. 

“Ready, sweet girl?”

“Let’s go.”

The two of you hop into the van and, ahead of you, Steve starts up the truck. Eddie’s van rumbles to life and you just pray this thing makes it to Boston. Perks of having a mechanic for a boyfriend, though, are that you don’t have to wait around forever to have some mechanic come by and check it out, then fork out the big bucks for whatever is wrong with it. 

Eddie puts the van in drive and follows Steve down the road, towards the exit of Forest Hills. Dark brown eyes flick up towards the rear-view mirror. Eddie watches the front door to the trailer close behind Wayne and takes a long look at the home he grew up in. It’s small, old, and not in the best condition. But it’s where he’s lived his life and had some of the best times he’s ever had. It’ll be weird to him to have a new home. To be in a new city. In a new state. But he’s excited. Excited to turn the page and start this next chapter of his life with you. 

Rough, callused fingers find yours as you pull out of the trailer park. You intertwine your fingers with his and bring his hand up to your hand for a kiss. 

“You okay, handsome?” you ask.

The grin he gives you makes your breath catch in your chest. You’ll never get over how breathtakingly beautiful he is. The way his curls frame his face just right and how his long eyelashes brush his cheeks every time he blinks. 

“Me?” Eddie asks. “Never been better, baby.”

If Steve and Eddie thought that getting furniture out of both their houses and into the truck was hard, they’re in for a nasty surprise. The apartment you’re all sharing is on the second floor of the off-white building the moving van and Eddie’s truck are parked in front of. Both Steve and Nancy’s cars are parked behind the building, in a small private lot. Steve had driven his car here and then flown back with Nancy before the move. 

“Ah, Jesus,” Steve sighs as he takes a look at the staircase the two of them will be maneuvering furniture up. 

One of the advantages of living close to the school though, is that students are always around, either passing through or lodging somewhere nearby. Luckily, two guys from your and Nancy’s English class last semester come out of the apartment building next to yours. 

“Whoa, need some help?” One of the guys, Jerry, asks when he sees the U-haul stuffed to the brim with furniture and boxes. 

“Boys?” Nancy asks, turning to face your boyfriends. “Will your pride allow you to let others help?”

“Shit, my pride got knocked out of me the second time I dropped my dresser on my foot,” Eddie says. He turns to Jerry and offers his hand. “We’d appreciate that, man.”

With the help of Jerry and his friend Rich, all of the furniture and belongings are moved into apartment 286 within a few hours. The two good Samaritans wouldn’t accept pizza and beer as a thank you, just insisted helping was no trouble and it counted as their workout for the day. 

Between the loading of the vehicles, the long drive, then the unloading of the vehicles, the four of you are thoroughly exhausted. All of the furniture is still in pieces and none of you care beyond making sure each bedroom has the right mattress in it for your inevitable crashes tonight. 

“Thank God the bedrooms are on opposite sides of the apartment,” Eddie says to you as you walk out from your shared bedroom. 

“I said the same thing to Nance not ten minutes ago,” Steve says. He sets down a box labeled “Living Room” in big black letters. “I don’t wanna hear a damn thing that’s gonna go on in that room of yours.”

“Glad we could finally agree on something,” Eddie says as he slings an arm over your shoulders.

“That’s fine,” Nancy says as she comes out of her and Steve’s room. “But you know we will talk about what goes on in there to each other, right? Girl code and all.”

“Girl code consists of telling each other what goes on in the bedroom?” Steve asks, eyebrows so high they’re practically hidden in his hair. 

“Not everything,” you say to placate the men. Even though, obviously, you and Nancy do discuss just about everything that goes on in there with each other. What else are you supposed to talk about when getting coffee together?

“Okay, I’m starving,” Eddie says, resting his free hand on his stomach. “Please tell me we have a goddamn phone book so I can order some food.”

Pizza is ordered and delivered, and since none of you had brought a couch to your new home, the four of you sit on the floor in the middle of what will become your living room as you eat it. Steve pours a cup of Pepsi for everyone, and you all raise your red solo cups. 

“What should we toast to?” you ask. 

“A smooth semester,” Nancy says.

“To Munson and I finding good jobs here,” Steve adds. 

“And to the many adventures we’re gonna have and how they’ll make everyone back in Hawkins completely jealous,” Eddie says. 

“Let’s try and keep them in this dimension, yeah?” you say.

“Deal,” Eddie replies.

“To our new beginnings!” you say as you lift your cup. 

The four of you tap your cups together, being careful not to be too hard lest you spill some. 

It’s an early night, considering how exhausted you all are. That’s why when you come out of the bathroom, yawning and rubbing your tired eyes, the last thing you expected to see when you walked into your room was Eddie plugging in a strand of multicolored Christmas lights. The strings of lights are draped over piles of boxes, Eddie’s dresser, your bedside table, and a bookshelf you’d brought. 

The lamp connected to the fan on the ceiling is still on, so it’s hard to really see the glow emanating from the little bulbs.

“What’s all this?” you ask, tapping your fingernail against one of the small red lights. 

“Well,” Eddie says as he stands up from his crouched position, “I remember you told me at Christmas you would hang lights in your room and watch them blink and shine as you fell asleep. And, I mean, I know it’s not Christmas time, but I figured these lights might make you happy anyway.”

Your face feels stuck between a grin and a cry as you walk over to your boyfriend. His cheeks are warm as you cup them in your hands and press a kiss to his lips.

“I love them. I love you,” you say softly. “They do make me happy. But you make me the happiest.” You take another look around the room, watching the different colors do their best to be seen in the brightly lit room. “These lights kind of follow us, huh?”

Eddie chuckles and nods his head. “Pretty sure we have custody of them by this point.”

“Maybe tomorrow we can hang them up? Like they were in the van?” you ask. “I mean, who needs crown molding when you have Christmas lights?”

Eddie chuckles and runs his hands up and down your arms.

“God, I can’t believe this is our room. That I get to fall asleep next to you every night and wake up to you each morning.”

“And some fun stuff in between.” You smirk and raise an eyebrow at him.

“Think we should christen the room?” Eddie asks.

Instead of answering, you get down on the mattress that’s on the floor while the bed frame is still dismantled. You pull your pajama shirt up over your head and toss it behind you.

“Pants off, Munson.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” 

Eddie practically hops out of his pants and throws them in a corner. He yanks the longer chain attached to the ceiling fan and the main light goes dark. Dozens of pretty lights twinkle and dance as you take in the strands around the room. The only word you can come up with to describe how it looks is magical. 

There’s a dip on the bed next to you and you look over to see Eddie stripping himself of his shirt as he sits down. He lays back against his pillows and opens his arms for you.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie says. “Let’s fool around on our bed.”

Three Months Later

The apartment is fuller than you’ve ever seen it. You’re in the kitchen, checking on the green bean casserole that you made. Your friends and boyfriend unanimously decided you should be in charge of the side dishes for Thanksgiving because you’re the best cook. Nancy has been making cookies for the last few days with Holly, who flew in for the holiday. That left Eddie and Steve in charge of the turkey. You’re not sure how that’ll go, and if you made a few too many side dishes in case the bird ends up inedible, so what?

“Oh, sweetie?”

You turn around from washing off your hands in the kitchen sink to see Steve’s mom standing before you with the pumpkin and apple pies she brought. 

“Can I help you, Mrs. Harrington?” you ask.

When she smiles you immediately know where Steve acquired that feature. Similarly, Mr. Harrington, who is out in the living room talking with Wayne, has the same eyes and nose as his son. They share the same confidence too, even if Mr. Harrington’s sometimes borders on cocky.

“Did you want the pies in the fridge?” Mrs. Harrington asks.

“Oh! Yes, please.” You open the refrigerator door and carefully take the desserts from her and lay them near the carton of milk. “I’ll put those in the oven after everyone is done with dinner.”

Mrs. Harrington takes one of your hands in hers and gives it a soft squeeze.

“Take a deep breath, dear. I know it can seem overwhelming, but you’re doing great. Everything smells delicious. If you need any help, you let me know, okay?”

“I will,” you agree. “Thank you.”

She gives you one last kind smile before walking back out to the living room. 

Somehow, you feel calmer after just those few words from Mrs. Harrington. You’ve never even met her before today, but her nurturing presence was comforting. It’s a melancholy feeling because you’ll never have that with your own mother. As much as you’ve accepted that, it still finds a way to sting every now and again. 

A ding on the oven lets you know that the biscuits are done. Once you’ve gotten them out of the oven and given the stuffing a few stirs, you see someone come into the kitchen out of the corner of your eye.

“There’s my favorite cook.”

You giggle and step forward to hug Wayne. You’d hugged him when he arrived earlier, but you’re stealing another one now anyway. 

“And look at that!” Wayne says. “Wearing the apron I got you for Christmas last year.”

“Oh, I wear this every time I cook,” you tell him proudly, looking down at the turquoise material tied around your waist. There are a few stains here and there despite your best efforts to keep it pristine. 

Eddie pops into the kitchen claps a hand against Wayne’s back before coming to stand next to you.

“Need any help, babe?” he asks. 

“Actually, I think dinner is just about ready. Help me set the table?”

“No way,” Wayne says with a shake of his head. “You worked hard cooking all this for us, Eddie and I will get everything out on the table.”

The dishes exit the kitchen one by one, to be laid out on the dining room table and Eddie’s old desk that have been pushed together and covered with a burnt sunset tablecloth. The chairs are mismatched as well, but you all had to work with what you’ve got. 

Once it seems like everything has been situated, you take a deep breath. It’s out of your hands now. All you can do is hope people enjoy the food you made. 

Everyone is gathering around the table, sitting down in front of lovely place settings that Nancy worked very hard on. Mr. and Mrs. Harrington take two seats at the far end of the table. Steve sits down next to his father at the head of the table, with Nancy on his other side. Holly giggles about something Steve said as she slides in the chair next to her big sister. 

Wayne slips past you and takes a seat next to Mrs. Harrington. The second head of the table, opposite Steve, is free and you give a little bow and motion for Eddie to take it. He chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

The two empty place settings on either side of Eddie seem to stare at you. The extra chairs mock you as you look over the people sitting at the table in your home. Steve and his parents, Nancy and her little sister, Eddie with his uncle. Family. Not just the individual ones, but as a collective group. The four of you who live in this apartment have brought the people in their lives into all of your lives. It’s an extension of a family that keeps going on and on. 

“Ah,” Eddie says as he hops up from his seat. “Forgot the wine that Wayne brought.” He gives your lips a quick peck before walking into the kitchen. You can’t help but smile as you watch him. This is where you belong. Eddie is your family and your home. 

The quiet knocking pulls you out of your latest Eddie-zone-out. It sounds again and you realize someone is knocking on the front door.

“I’ve got it,” you say as Steve starts to stand. 

The cold doorknob bites your hand as you twist it to reveal who’s standing there. At first your eyes are too high, catching on a familiar face but not quite the one that fills you with glee. When you look down, there she is. Large, inquisitive eyes, wide smile, and two pigtail braids to top off her lovely purple dress. 

They’re here. You’d extended the invitation to your sister months ago, but never heard back. That wasn’t unusual of your sister, but it did complicate your planning. Nancy insisted that you have the extra place settings and chairs for them just in case. Though you truly believed it would all be in vain, you agreed. 

Tears collect along your waterline, and you know it won’t be long before they’re leaking down your face. 

“I am so happy you’re here. Look at how tall you got!” You lean down and Chloe instantly jumps into your arms. The hug you give her is as tight as it can possibly be without hurting her. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you, too!” Chloe says as she pulls away and you stand up. 

More surprising than opening your front door and seeing your sister and niece, your sister leans in and pulls you into a hug.

“It’s really nice to see you,” she says.

As stunned as you are, you manage to hug her back. It’s a warm and comforting hug—something you never thought you’d get from her again. 

“It’s nice to see you too, Melanie.” You find yourself actually meaning those words. This is certainly no indication that things will become more stable between the two of you, but at least it’s a nice gesture on a holiday.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” you tell both of them, but give Chloe a wink. “Eddie? Babe?”

He steps out of the kitchen, wine bottle in hand, and his head swivels as he searches for you. You see his eyes take in you, then the woman and little girl who look very similar to you. A grin lights up his face and you just know how happy he is for you. He sets the wine bottle down on the table and walks over to you. The closer he gets, the shyer Chloe becomes. Though she’s too big for it now, she tries to hide herself behind your legs. 

“Eddie, this is my sister Melanie and my niece Chloe,” you say. 

Your boyfriend squats so he can be on more of an even level with the girl. He offers a hand to her.

“It’s nice to meet my girlfriend’s favorite person,” he says. 

Chloe still looks a little unsure, but she comes out from behind your legs just enough to shake his hand. 

“I think that’s you,” she tells Eddie softly.

“Why’s that?” Eddie tilts his head in curiosity. 

“Because she’s never smiled like that when she’s looked at me before.” Chloe looks up at you, now a speechless mess, and then lowers her head to look at Eddie again. “When you came outta the kitchen. It was a big, big smile. I never seen her smile that big before.”

Heat rises to your face as your niece calls out your terminal case of lovesickness. Eddie doesn’t seem to know what to say either as he stands back up and takes your hand in his. 

“Let’s, um. Let’s all sit down before the food gets cold,” you suggest. In your frazzled state, you forgot you didn’t exactly introduce your sister and boyfriend properly. You quickly remedy the situation and let them shake hands and have a polite greeting while you bring Chloe to the other side of the table where you’re sitting. 

“Here we go,” you say as you help her into her chair. “This is Holly. She’s my friend Nancy’s little sister. That’s Nancy there, that’s Steve, those are Steve’s mom and dad, and this is Eddie’s Uncle Wayne.”

Chloe is seated directly across from Wayne and gives him a shy smile. 

“Hi, darlin’,” Wayne greets. “Are you happy to see your aunt?”

“Yes!” Her face lights up and it absolutely melts your heart. 

Eddie and Melanie come over and join you at the table; Eddie next to you at the head of the table, and Melanie directly across from you. A special sort of warmth you’ve never felt before overtakes your body. It's comforting, like wrapping yourself in the fluffiest blanket on a cold day. The source of this feeling smacks you in the face. You’re sitting between your two favorite people in the world. A part of you never thought this would actually happen, but here it is. It’s overwhelming in the best possible way. 

Steve rises at the opposite end of the table, his wine glass in hand. It looks like someone poured it in Eddie’s absence. All heads turn to Steve, some unfamiliar faces staring back at him, and a lot of familiar ones. It doesn’t make a difference though. Steve is addressing everyone at the table. 

“We’re grateful that each of us has some family with us today. The world is crazy, and you never know when things are going to go upside down.”

You, Eddie, and Nancy share a look, smirks on each of your faces at Steve’s hidden joke that only you three would get. 

“So, here’s to family, friends, and the moments that bring us together.”

“Cheers!”

Everyone clinks their glasses together, reminiscent of the four of you knocking your red solo cups of Pepsi against each other. The difference between then and now is purely the nicer dinnerware and fuller apartment. The sentiment is still the same. A celebration of what you’ve accomplished so far and excitement for the adventures that lie ahead. 

Under the table, Eddie laces his fingers with yours. Your mind wanders back to last Thanksgiving. The first time you and Eddie held hands. The first time you kissed. The first time you met. Back then, you never could have imagined what was beginning to blossom. The surprise of it sneaking up on you is half the fun. 

Now you’re here, exactly where you belong. The people around this table own pieces of your heart, with Eddie holding the largest shard. This is what family is. This is home.

Eddie lifts your hands from under the table and presses a kiss to your knuckles. The soft chink of your charm bracelet the only sound penetrating the bubble that you and Eddie are in. Your newest charm, the little silver turkey you received this morning, stares up at you from where it rests on your wrist. 

Soft lips on the back of your hand have your eyes rising to meet Eddie’s again. He leans in and steals a soft, tender kiss. A small giggle from behind you lets you know that you’re being spied on. But you couldn’t care less who watches you kiss your boyfriend. 

“Happy Thanksgiving!” someone calls, you’re not sure who. 

Eddie just smiles and gives your hand a squeeze.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Eddie.”

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

[lokisprettygirl]

Deadly Locks (Detective! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Au) (Dark )

Read Chapter 4 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 5

Summary: Feelings resurface and more of your past with daemon is revealed as you take walks through the memory lane.

Trigger Warning: Rape and torture, 18+ , smut, It's a crime thriller so there would be some squeamish dark stuff, read at your own discretion, mention of rape, assault and murder, Speeding and driving under the influence, Reader has long hair, Daemon's hair is up for imagination, Cigarette consumption, some geographical errors

You knew, of course you knew about his past. You had been with him for five years and it took him a long time to open up to you about what he had been through and how awful his early childhood was.

“What does that mean Daemon..i mean what does it have to do with the killer?”

You asked him so he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair,

“I don't know..i mean i am not sure what it means..it could be just a coincidence but–” his eyes teared up so you scooted closer to him and held onto his hand, as he looked down to avoid the tears from slipping down his eyes you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him. That's when he broke down in tears, it wasn't just about this developing theory in his mind but the buildup of every little emotion he had been shoving away since you had broken his heart.

You were taken by a deranged man and he could have lost everything if he had lost you to such a tragedy. He had stayed strong these past few weeks for you, he didn't overreact or cry in your arms when he found you, even though every part of him wanted to fall apart and crumble he kept his cool. But now that you were holding onto him so tenderly like you used to before, he couldn't help but shed tears for everything that could have gone wrong in the past few weeks.

“im sorry..I'm so sorry” he mumbled between his sniffling so you pulled away from him and cupped his cheeks

“Why are you sorry ..you did nothing wrong”

“If I did nothing wrong then how come you're not mine anymore?”

You looked down as he said that, well there were plenty of things he didn't do right in the relationship and that was the reason why you had to let him go but you weren't expecting the conversation to take this turn. He wiped his tears before he got up from the couch to go to the guest room “Sleep well darling”

He mumbled before he left and as soon as he was out of sight you couldn't keep your tears at bay either.

You wanted to go sleep in your room but you didn't want to leave him alone when he felt this way so you walked inside his room, grabbed the comforter and slipped inside. He immediately had his arm around you as if he was waiting for you to do just this

“Talk to me” you mumbled softly. He wasn't good at sharing his troubles, he always wanted to take your problems away but he never really delved into his own.

“About what exactly?” he asked you so you sighed.

“About your mum, you never told me about the lullabies”

“Well there are plenty of details i didn't share because it's not worth my time anymore. I don't want to think about that time in my life”

“Okay then..what does it have to do with the killer?”

“Nothing .. perhaps I'm overthinking “

“It's not like you to overthink these things..you just know”

He couldn't help but smile as you said that to him. His head was a mess but he didn't want to think about it at all, he just wanted to get a peaceful sleep when you were right next to him like this. He had missed sharing a warm bed with you.

“I like this ritual of yours”

“What ritual?” you asked him as you felt confused.

“of you sneaking into my bed”

“Are you flirting with me Detective Daemon?”

“Shush you know I don't flirt”

“Mmhm”

He linked his fingers with yours and you immediately felt relaxed, that was always his way of showing that he cared even if he wasn't good with his words or promises.

And there were days when he really wasn't good with his promises.

You saw the door knob twisting so you wiped your tears, you didn't want him to see how much it had bothered you that he hadn't come home early especially when he had promised you that he would, you picked up the plates from the living room as he entered and you saw the bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand but you didn't say a word and went into the kitchen again.

“Scrappy” he mumbled softly but you didn't respond to him, you pretended to be engrossed in the obsessive cleaning of the kitchen counter.

“Okay..I see you're upset and anxious”

You glared at him as he said that.

And as your eyes welled up again he placed the flowers down on the counter and walked closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist to stop you from fidgeting.

“Don't do this. .I'm mad…I'm so very mad at you right now and I don't want to be held or be lured into your apologies and your…just let me go”

Your voice choked on your tears as you spoke to him and his eyes teared up as well. It was your birthday, you wanted him to be there but he got stuck with a case, he had to be at the crime site and he had to document every little thing, he had no clue when time had flown past him.

“No…I'm not letting go ..i know you don't want me to apologize but I'm going to”

“That won't make a difference..”

“I know..”

He wiped your tears from your cheeks as they rolled down incessantly, he despised hurting you this way and ever since he had been promoted he had been making a habit of doing this to you.

“I brought flowers”

“I can see”

“And I got kisses..do you want that? My birthday girl I'm so very sorry –” he mumbled sweetly and that only made you cry harder.

“I ..was drunk and I felt so lonely..”

“You had friends over– i thought “

“I don't need my friends when I'm drunk on my birthday I need you ..” you sniffled as you spoke so he wiped your tears and cupped your cheeks to kiss your forehead.

“Okay I'm sorry sweetheart, I'm sorry, I'm sorry please” he mumbled against your mouth before he kissed you, his fingers clutched into your long hair as he pulled your head back to look at you, he wiped your tears before he dived into the kiss again.

“i miss you i feel like you don't even see me these days” you mumbled against his mouth

“We live together ..I see you everyday”

“That's not what I meant –”

“I know..” he kissed your neck as his hands slipped down your arms and he linked them with yours as tightly as he could, so tight as if he was afraid you'd leave him if wasn't holding onto you like that.

“I see you love…you're all I see..I'm sorry..what can I do hmm? What can I do for you, tell me what I can do to make you happy..my scrappy little love?” He whispered in your ear as he bit on your earlobe so you pulled away from him.

“Well …take a shower, get in bed and then you can show me how sorry you are ..”

Now when he looked back at the day he knew that was the beginning of the worst of it all, he should have been there for you in those little moments and he definitely should have been there with you during those rough days but he wasn't, he chose his work over you, he prioritized his work and he paid for it at the end when you couldn't take his broken promises anymore.

No amount of flowers, or kisses could have brought you back to him so he didn't even try.

Two years ago when you broke his heart and decided to leave he didn't even try to stop you from taking this step because a part of him always felt that you deserved better than him. So much better, you were everything and he was just some guy that didn't even deserve to be your man in the first place.

That night he really wanted to get a peaceful sleep but he couldn't sleep well, he had a dream about his childhood. It was a recurring dream he used to have a lot before, it was just one the earliest memories of his life

His mother had brought a new dress for him, his dada always told him that he was his precious boy but his mama..she never called him that, she always told him he was her pretty little girl, well she only told him that when she felt happy which didn't really happen that often. The dress she had gotten for him didn't look good on him, the make up she did on him didn't flatter him, he was a boy with boyish features and she hated that, she wanted a girl, a pretty girl, she wanted to give birth to a pretty girl like herself but he was a boy.

He saw himself wincing as she pulled on his hair to make pigtails but she got frustrated midway and then she started to scream at him.

“You're fucking ugly,..I can't believe I gave birth to you..no amount of makeup is going to change those hideous features”

She yelled at him but he was so little, so he immediately got scared and ran to her so she'd hold him..she was his mama right?

“Mama mama please don't be angry” she pushed him away as he started to cry and his cries attracted the attention of his father, then he heard them fighting and yelling, it wasn't until years later when he was able to comprehend what his mother was trying to do to him.

**********

Next morning when he woke up he was in a weird mood about the case.

He dropped you at the therapist's office so you wished him a good day at work but after the end of the hour as you stepped out you noticed that he had never left. And that was something you hadn't really expected from him.

As you sat down in the passenger seat you took a good look at him, he wasn't talking and it bothered you that you didn't really understand what was bothering him.

“You don't have to be on my service all the time Daemon. The therapy it's …ummm it's helping and i –”

You stopped speaking as you felt his eyes on you.

“I don't feel pity for you–”

“I never said that–”

“But you're thinking about it.. constantly”

Well he wasn't wrong.

“..I am here because I want to be here..I want to be…close to you”

Your eyes teared up as he said that. A bitter laugh escaped your throat as the memories of the past flooded your mind.

“So you didn't want to be close to me before when you chose your work over me time n again?”

“You have no clue how much I needed you in my life–”

“It didn't really feel that way at times” he sighed as you said that. His knuckles strained as he clutched onto the steering wheel with a death grip.

“I just thought you were mine…for life..for this life ..i thought I had you .. and that you'd always be home no matter at what time I go in there and that was my fault…you didn't deserve a man like that in your life..you didn't deserve to be taken for granted”

You didn't say anything for a while as he said that, he knew where your relationship with him had fallen apart but that didn't hurt you any less. Breaking up with a man you were so crazily in love with wasn't an easy choice to make.

“It was perfect whenever you were there .. everything felt perfect when I had you but I didn't have you with me more than i ever had you with me and that broke my heart..repeatedly”

That day when you went home he told you that he'd come early in the evening and that you didn't have to worry as the cops were outside the house. You were getting bored out of your mind so you looked around the house, he still had his work desk in the living room, the desk that used to put him up at nights a lot of times that he wouldn't even get in bed with you.

You opened the drawer under the desk and there was a picture of you and him from seven years ago. It was taken in a club, you remembered that day clear as today because of the conversation you had with him. He really was an enigma during those early stages of your relationship with him. He still was the same but he was your enigma, the woman you were now knew that man inside out unlike the woman in the picture.

“Shots shots shots..lets go” Donna yelled amidst the loud music so you all took a shot, your face scrunched in disgust at the bitter content of the glass. You were at a nightclub with your friend group to celebrate Donna's engagement. She was engaged to this high profile detective named Otto Hightower, even though he was much older than her they made a perfect pair.

“Oh there he is …your weird police guy” you glared at her as she said that.

“He's not weird…shutup”

“Well he sure looks as if he has never step a foot in a club”

You shook your head as you stepped down from the stool and swam between the crowd of people to get to him, as soon as he saw you there was a clear sign of instant relief on his face.

You had been dating him for just two months, there were still things you didn't know about him.

“Hey there” you hugged him before you kissed him and he was taken aback for a moment before he reciprocated. He had a black leather jacket on with blue jeans and he looked hot as hell. And you really wanted him to stop being such a gentleman and fuck you tonight.

“Are you drunk already?” he asked you as he pulled away from you so you tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Maybe.. want to take advantage of me, officer?”

His brows furrowed as you said that before he realized that you were joking, his cheeks turned pink so he looked down but then he looked around, he felt like an alien in that place.

“What is it?” You giggled as you spoke to him so he shook his head.

“Nothing..i…what are we supposed to do here?” he asked you, there was a tinge of nervousness in his voice.

“Dancing of course.. and drinking of course”

“Alright..” you smiled as you looked at him before your brows raised curiously

“Ummm Daemon?”

“Hmmm?”

“You have been to clubs before right?” His face flushed again as you questioned him and as you noticed that he was embarrassed you quickly pulled him closer to kiss him. “Godd You're so adorable.. i love you” his eyes widened as you said that to him but then you were drunk so he didn't take your words to heart even though he really wanted to.

“You're drunk” you giggled as he said that. Did you just confess your love for him? Yeah you did.

“So first time huh?”

“Yeah I'm sorry..are you going to make fun of me with your friends when you go back there..” he asked you and it made you smile.

“Do I seem like that girl?”

“What girl?”

“The type who'd make fun of her boyfriend behind his back?”

“No..you're .. amazing.. and beautiful and an angel..though you piss me off at times when you're being all scrappy and reckless but I love that..i love everything about you and i love you ..ummm no sorry you don't seem the type to do such a thing”

A wide smile graced your features as you heard him rambling.

“And you're not even drunk”

Before you could make him blush further he cupped your cheeks and kissed you deeply. You were too much at times, too good for him, too sweet to him, too affectionate verbally and physically that he felt suffocated by your sheer energy around him but then he was getting addicted to that feeling, it got him all high and floaty in his head.

But he obviously didn't fuck you that night.

He was on his way home early like he had promised when he received a very frantic call from Rebecca, she sounded utterly distressed and that worried him.

“Daemon I'm so scared there's a man outside and I don't know what he wants” her voice was full of fear as she spoke on the phone.

“Where are the cops dear?”

“They're not here…I don't know “

He immediately turned the car around as she said that. He had promised to look out for her and he didn't want anything to happen to her. As soon as he reached her house he saw the police car outside the house so he went to talk to them and reprimanded them for leaving but they told him that they had been there throughout their shift and at least one of them had stayed in the past three hours.

He wanted to check on her now that he was there so he knocked on her door and when she opened she seemed fine, albeit a bit scared.

“Rebecca are you alright?” He asked her so she grabbed his arm and pulled him inside the house before she locked it.

“Somebody was out there Daemon I'm so scared” she immediately hugged him and put him off immediately.

“I talked to my guys out there …they said they were here”

She pulled away to look at him as he said that.

“No they…they're lying..why would I lie ?”

She started to cry again so he placed his hands on her shoulders to comfort her.

“I am not saying that you lied…let's just…sit down and get you some water okay?” He made her sit down on the couch and brought her a glass of water from the kitchen.

“I don't trust them…they look at me weirdly and it's just–”

“Did they do something? Said something?”

“No but please I can't be alone..I just feel so scared all the time–”

“I know it's tough but I have promised that I won't let him hurt you again right?”

She nodded as he said that before she held onto his hand and stood up to hug him again.

“I feel safe with you..i know you'd never hurt me..”

He didn't really know how to react as she clutched onto him. She has been through hell and he didn't want to add to it but she really needed to set a boundary.

“Rebecca I need you to listen to me, I'm doing my best to catch him and I won't rest until I have him”

He pulled her away from him but she didn't let go, instead she leaned into him to kiss him, that's when he knew he had to speak up.

“What are you doing?” He asked her sternly, his voice changed from the usual calm to suddenly agitated

“I see the way you look at me Daemon, and I feel the same–”

“You're wrong, so absurdly wrong here. Jesus …get off me” he walked out of the house immediately after that. He didn't really want to deal with this situation when he had a million other things in his mind.

When he came back home he found you in the kitchen making dinner and his sullen mood got better instantly. His life would have been so much better if you still belonged to him.

“Are you okay?” You asked him so he hummed and went to the bedroom to take a shower. The sketch he had gotten made for the woman in the killer's house was everywhere but if it was the killer himself then he knew it would be hard to find him without that wig and heavy makeup even though the whole city was on high alert.

After dinner as you went to your cold bed you tried to sleep there even though you just wanted to sneak into his bed like you had done for the past nights. The ring was still on your mind, the way he talked to you today made you feel as if he still wanted you in his life but then it had been two years. Nothing has changed, he still was the same busy workaholic man that you had left for your own good but he was trying to be there for you. He was handling the biggest case of his life but he was still making time for you and you knew he was trying.

You just didn't understand why.

About an hour later as you heard your door knob twisting you closed your eyes and pretended to sleep. His footsteps reached closer to the bed and then the familiar scent of his tom ford cologne filled your senses. The mattress dipped as he sat down on the bed and you felt the tension around him, not the kind you'd have wanted though. You could just feel that he was tense and worried. Perhaps overwhelmed.

Like a gentleman he covered you with the duvet before he ran his fingers through your hair and then kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight scrappy”

Before he could get away you reached out for him to grab his forearm and he turned around to look at you.

“Always a gentleman aren't you?” You gave him a small smile so he returned it before he sat down again “What's bothering you?”

“Just work, there's a lot of pressure, Otto told me that they'd be bringing in another detective on the case to aid me because I'm not getting anywhere”

You sat up as he said that.

“He can't do that, he knows how valuable you are for his team..you're not just another policeman, you're gifted and i know sooner or later you'd get him”

“Apparently not because I'm so clueless right now”

“Now isn't forever, you're clueless in the moment but you'll get there i know” he gave you a small smile as you motivated him.

“I really want to bring justice to those women but most of all you–”

“I know –”

Your eyes teared up so he placed his hand on your cheek and as he rubbed his thumb over your skin you couldn't help but lean into the touch.

“Were you going to call me ..on my birthday?” you asked him out of nowhere so he took a moment before he answered you.

“I really wanted to..I only thought of you all night long, a part of me felt something but I chalked it up to anxiety.. would you have invited me?”

“Not if you were seeing someone”

He chuckled as you said that.

You didn't say a word after that but laid down and then moved to the side so he could get into the bed with you and he didn't deny either. You maintained your distance for a good five minutes before you scooted closer to him and he wrapped his safe protective arm around you. And just like that both of you felt better. So much better.

A week later there was a Christmas party being held at the precinct so he asked you if you'd like to go with him.

Now you had been to plenty of parties with him before but you were his girlfriend back then, you knew the guys he worked with but you also knew that they won't look at you the same way after what you had been through. You still accepted his invitation, however as you got dressed up after a long time and put the makeup on, you felt nervous and scared, you didn't want to go anymore.

When he entered the room and saw you in that red and black dress his breath shuddered but then he also saw tears in your beautiful eyes so he walked closer to you.

He had a formal black suit on and he looked handsome as ever, when you had met him he was so young and boyish like most men are in their early twenties but now he had filled into his looks and that had only made him more handsome if it was possible.

“I think you should go alone” you said to him so he sighed,

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing I just…I don't want to freak out over something and embarrass you–”

You walked past him as you mumbled so he followed you in the living room. He found you rearranging his desk and he knew you felt anxious, that's what you did whenever you felt so extremely anxious that you were close to panicking.

“Y/n–” he called your name so you spoke immediately.

“Just go ..I'm fine i promise.. you'll get late”

“Y/n” he closed the distance between you two and turned you around so you'd keep your eyes on him. He sat you down on the desk by hoisting you up before he cupped your cheeks between his palms.

“Breathe darling..you're okay..you're okay i promise”

He cooed in your ears so you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly. You weren't always like this but that man had changed you forever, you didn't even know if you'd ever get your old self back or if you'd ever feel the way you used to about life. A life where you didn't feel such immense fear all the time. Once your breathing leveled down you pulled away from him

“Thank you” you mumbled softly so he leaned down to kiss your forehead but he couldn't stop staring at your lips, your fingers traced from his chin to the outline of his tie as you looked up at him.

“You could never embarrass me, i need you to remember that alright?”

You nodded as he said that “We don't have to go, we'll stay here–”

“You should go Daemon-”

“No. I'm not leaving again”

“Then I'll come ..let's go..I'm fine i promise..I want to go out and i don't want to be so afraid”

“Are you sure?” He asked you softly so you nodded in response “I'd be there, right next to you”

On the way to the party you couldn't stop staring at him. He wanted to kiss you right? You didn't imagine or make believe the way he looked at you, right? Did he still feel anything for you? Love maybe? Maybe you should just confront him about the ring because if he had someone in his life you'd hate to be the sort of person that'd wreck a relationship.

But if he had someone would he keep you in his home? Sleep with you in the same bed? Would he take you to the party when he could have taken his girlfriend? You felt crazy, absolutely crazy having all these thoughts in your head.

As you reached the venue there were several familiar faces around and they all smiled at you which made you feel slightly at ease.

“They will think we are back together”

He chuckled as you said that.

“Wouldn't be the worst thing in the world”

As soon as Donna spotted you she came to hug you, and Otto wished you Merry Christmas as well to which you responded with a greeting and a smile. You wanted to go get a drink so you excused yourself. Daemon had offered to bring it for you but you didn't want to be so dependent on him .

“She seems better”

Donna said to Daemon so he looked at you as you were getting your drink made at the bar.

“She's healing slowly”

“Man i have to ask..what's going on between you two?” she asked him so he chuckled in response.

“Nothing. We are friends I think”

“Oh really” she let out a laugh so he rolled his eyes at her. He watched you from a distance as Torres met up with you. Torres was in school with you and then she worked as a traffic police officer along with him so you both knew her, she had moved on to work in law a few years ago. He watched you smile as you talked to her and his eyes teared up.

“She doesn't giggle anymore” Daemon spoke under his breath so Donna looked at him.

“What?”

“She used to giggle..all the time..she doesn't do that anymore..that saddens me” she sighed as he said that.

“Well that's more to do with you then what happened..she never really was the same since the night of her birthday two years ago”

She was your friend ofcourse she knew. As Torres approached him he composed himself and hugged her as he hadn't seen her in a while.

“Where's Jake?” He asked Torres so she looked around.

“Your trainee? Ahh I saw him outside with a girl ..”

Daemon smiled as she said that. Jake was a shy decent guy and never really got involved with women that often so that came as a surprise.

As his phone rang in his pocket he excused himself and stepped away to pick it up as the call was from an unknown number and the voice on the other side was unrecognizable.

“You don't recognise me do you brother..? We have met already though” as soon as Daemon heard that he looked around “Don't bother tracing the call, i won't be around too long. Just wanted to send you my wishes for the festival and tell y/n that I miss her sloppy cunt, too bad i wasn't able to skin her alive”

Daemon's jaw clenched in anger as he heard the killer's voice for the first time. The way he talked about you only fueled his anger further.

“You really think you're so bloody clever huh?”

Daemon said as he felt utterly pissed off. However what the killer said next confused him for a moment but then it also made things pretty transparent for him. He knew where he had to go for all the answers that he was so desperately searching for.

“Ohh by the way give my regards to mother when you see her next”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

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