#decided to split it into two chapters after all so here is part 1!

[gohandinhand]

turning sun into sugar, spinning straw into gold (1/2)

Fandom: Warrior Nun

Pairing: Ava/Beatrice

Rating: T

Word count: ~9k

Read it on AO3

Canon divergent from the end of 2x02; what if they didn’t get called back to the fight, but had to find a new place to hide away, train, and fall in love? AKA a thinly veiled excuse to write a love letter to the pnw

They’re different here, again, off-duty and alone together through the rapidly shortening afternoons. In Switzerland they’d had this only for stolen moments, cradled in the refuge of a dark bedroom. Here, nestled in the safety of the trees and a sky shuttered with clouds, the intimacy of the night bleeds forward into the day.

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: You're back home right when Azriel was starting to lose all hope, but is the person standing in front of him the same who disappeared all those years ago?

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury

Word Count: 6670

Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 ○ Part 3

Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.

Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.

His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.

In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.

Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.

He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.

You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.

As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.

He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.

Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.

He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.

He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.

His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.

His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.

“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.

“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.

He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.

Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.

Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.

Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.

He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.

“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.

He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.

He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.

“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.

“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.

“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.

“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”

“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.

Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.

“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”

“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.

“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.

“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.

He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.

“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?

Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.

Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.

“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.

“I will not leave her.”

“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.

Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.

He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.

He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.

Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.

“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.

“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”

He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.

“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.

When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.

Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.

Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.

That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.

“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.

“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”

“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.

“Why would she hurt you then?”

“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.

“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.

“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”

“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?

“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.

“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”

“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”

Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.

⋆｡°✩°｡⋆

You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.

You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.

The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.

You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.

Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.

Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.

You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.

As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.

You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.

As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.

You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.

You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.

The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.

When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.

“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.

“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.

“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.

Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.

The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.

As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.

If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.

Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.

Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.

You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.

When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.

Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.

You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.

A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?

“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.

Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.

You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?

Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.

“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.

He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.

You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.

“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.

Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.

“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.

“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.

You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.

The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.

“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”

taglist: @thisblogisaboutabook @chessebookgirl @going-through-shit @starcrossedsan @macimads @janebirkln @dr4g0ngirl @harrystyles2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @queensl1234 @lisanna2000 @starryhiraeth @shadowsaz @sakurafrost3-blog @evergreenlark @sisterjuliennes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @historygeekqueen @writingcroissant @abysshaven @pablopascal @that-girl-reading @less-chaotic-brain @naturakaashi @tenshis-cake @sharknutz @isa1b2h3 @thehighlordishere @tarathia @sfhsgrad-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @starsandnightmares @cuethedepession @emryb @mybestfriendmademe @fxckmiup @adharanotfound @b0xerdancer @ervotica @aria-chikage @serendipityx150 @fanboyluvr @rogersbarnesxx

(for some reason I couldn't tag some of you. check your settings because you might have tags disabled)

[luvjunie]

— Unforgettable ( 1 )

part one • part two • part three • part four

pairing: e-1610!miles morales x fem!reader

contains: miles rizzing you up after knowing you for two seconds, a beef patty changing the entire course of trajectory for your life. nothing too major

summary: a bump in with a certain boy at the bodega threatens to ruin your previously perfect afternoon until he offers to fix it. you assumed things would end there, and then you ran into him again. wc: 1,634

a/n: this was originally going to be one long fic but i decided to split it up, and i’m estimating around four, maybe five chapters in total. also, chapter one is cute but i thought i should let y’all know that two of them will contain some angst/conflict! this is the first series i’ve ever written so it won’t be the best, and i’m still deciding if i like how i mapped out the rest of the story so please bear with me if updates are a tad irregular 😅

next

To think, a damn beef patty is what started it all.

A beef patty that had tumbled out of your hands, down the sweater you’d just taken to the laundromat— your favorite one, at that— and onto the dirty bodega floor when a hard surface came in contact with you on your way to leave.

“Oh shit—“

“Jeez, what the hell man!”

You lunch gone and your good mood with it, your head lifted a great distance from the murder scene at your feet to meet the apologetic face of who had committed this unjust crime against your rumbling stomach.

“I am so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going…” The boy in front of you murmured sheepishly, palm dragging at the back of his neck.

Lips pursed, your forefinger and thumb pinched at the bridge of your nose as you willed yourself to refrain from cursing him out. New york already had enough of that, you decided as he continued apologizing.

“It’s my fault. I bumped into you, it’s fine.” you grumbled curtly, clearly irked. Shifting the blame onto yourself was your best attempt at keeping your anger at bay. The last thing you wanted to do was cut up in this nice man’s shop, especially not on a Sunday.

With a heavy sigh and a scratch to your brow, you crouched down and swiftly scooped the discarded meal off the floor with a napkin. Great, money down the drain.

“Let me buy you another one.” He said to the top of your green adidas beanie, palms pushed together to accompany his plea.

“No need.”

“I really wanna buy you another one.”

You shot up and tossed the remnants into the trash, your frustration evident in how much forced you used. “Dude, it’s—“

“I’m buying you another one.” he insisted, chin raising when he hollered at the clerk. “Yo, Lenny, lemme get another beef patty, man.”

He shuffled past you before you could decline again, the man behind the counter already sliding a fresh one past the register after having witnessed the run in.

You stared at the back of this stranger, brows furrowed incredulously. He was nice, which was unusual for someone in this city, so your innate response was to be annoyed at his persistence. People were always bumping into you and ruining your day, but no one had ever offered to fix it before.

“That’s the last one I got for the day, Miles.” Lenny, the owner of the shop informed apologetically, his Jamaican accent heavy on his tongue. He knew the boy usually came into his store around this hour for one thing, and it was always for one of his beef patties.

“It’s cool, don’t sweat it.” Waving him off, Miles slapped the cash down onto the counter and snatched the pastry up.

“Here,” He turned to you just as you were brushing your hands off onto your dark-wash jeans, breath held with what he hoped would be a peace-offering, extended out to you. “I’m sorry, again.”

You looked up at him, then back down at the patty in his hand before you gently accepted it, the pads of your fingers lingering in his palm when you did so.

“Thank you,..” trailing off, you blinked up at him, a silent request for his name. He was tall, kind of lanky, and had the prettiest brown eyes you’d probably ever seen. They stared back at you, appearing puzzled before he put the pieces together.

“Oh!— Miles.” he answered with a warm smile, hands tucking into the pockets of his jacket. It was green, your favorite color.

“Thank you… Miles.” you returned his smile with a smaller one, something about it contagious.

Caught up in the way you said his name for a moment, it wasn’t until you were already halfway out the door when he realized you hadn’t told him yours.

“Wait! I didn’t get your—“ he called out to the air, the bell on the shop’s door a taunt of his failed attempt. “Name.” he murmured, shoulders falling with a sigh.

He felt eyes on him and turned to the side, lips smacking against his teeth in annoyance at who’s stare he’d caught.

“Don’t be mad at me, man. You gotta step ya game up.” Lenny threw his hands up in surrender and stifled a laugh, shaking his head at the boy.

Even though he had nothing to be smiling about when he exited the small store—seeing as he was out of five dollars and still hungry—Miles found himself walking home that day with a smile etched onto his face, a little pep in his step and something to keep his mind busy.

Nothing happened, that was obvious, but for some reason he felt like this wouldn’t be the last time he saw you.

—

Exactly one thing was on your mind the next time you entered Lenny’s shop, and he already knew what it was before you’d opened your mouth to ask after approaching the register.

Well, maybe two things, but the second one wasn’t necessary to get into.

“Comin’ righ’tup, sweetheart.” He nodded at you.

“Thanks.” You smiled sweetly, idly tapping your hands against the counter during your short wait.

The white parchment paper cradling your all time favorite snack slid over to you a minute later. You paid quickly, your stomach rumbling just from smelling the savory treat.

Just as you went to turn around, you spotted that same boy who’d ran into you a week ago and nearly ruined your day. Miles, you remembered his name was, as you stuck an apprehensive hand out in front of you, patty pulled close to your chest and brows raised in warning.

“Chill,” He laughed, his hands shooting up in defense. “I’m out your way this time, promise.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, his playful demeanor rubbed off on you. “You better be.”

“Please don’t tell me you got the last one.” He pleaded with hopeful eyes, but wishful thinking never did much for him.

“She sure did.” Lenny called from behind the counter, eyeing Miles closely to see if he’d take the bone he threw. He then ticked his head to the side with a slightly widened stare, as if urging the disappointed boy to make a move.

“Woops.” Using your fingers, you ripped a piece off the patty and popped it into your mouth, shrugging as you brushed past Miles, who had just caught on to what the shop owner did for him.

With your back to him as you pushed the door open to outside, you missed the two fingered salute Miles shot towards the man as a thank you.

He followed after you, swiftly shouldering himself through the closing door and sliding outside, into step with you.

“Tell you what, I’ll give you my number for half of it.” He offered with a boyish grin, long legs able to keep up with ease.

You nearly choked, steps halting when you spun around to face him. What made him think you wanted his number? And maybe you did, because you definitely thought he was cute, but that was besides the point since he didn’t know that.

“Are you flirting with me?” you asked, and he perked up a bit.

“Depends. Is it working?”

You rolled your eyes. “How about my name first?”

He shrugged, leaning back against the side of the building a bit. “I kinda assumed that was a package deal, seeing as I’ll need something to save your contact under.”

Okay, you’ll admit it, that was smooth.

You put your hand on your hip, patty in the other with your head tilted in thought. “Somehow, I feel like this deal benefits you more than me.”

“That‘s possible.” Miles chuckled, and you can’t believe that’s all it took to convince you. How pretty he looked when he laughed. How good your name sounded rolling off his tongue when he’d repeated it back to stake it within his memory.

You quietly hummed to yourself, contemplating. You’d never accepted a guy’s advances this easily, and figured you’d test him in a way he’d most likely fail.

“Quick, what’s my favorite color?”

There was a pause.

“Green.”

Your jaw dropped. “What— How in the hell?” You gaped at him. “How did you know that?”

“You give away more than you know with your eyes.” He grinned. “Saw you eyeing my jacket last week, and you’re doing it again today. And your beanie, too.” With a raise of his eyes from yours, he pointed out the forest green hat pulled snug over your head and your hand mindlessly went to touch it. “But honestly, I was only like, seventy percent sure, so maybe you can call it a lucky guess.”

You quirked a brow. “Oh, so you think I’m checking you out now?”

“No, but I wouldn’t mind.”

Well, you’d managed to lose at your own game, fair and square. Holding his gaze for a minute, you had to restrain a smile from splitting through your calm and collected facade and shooed away the urge with a clearing of your throat.

“Phone.” You held your hand out, beckoning him for it.

Fetching it from his pants pocket, he did the same to you with his other hand, palm upwards. “Patty.”

Huffing in frustration, you awarded him the half he earned and snatched the device, ignoring the triumphant look on his face as you punched your digits in.

—

It was pitiful. It barely took anything for you to take interest in a guy in general— but even if your standards were ridiculously high, there was no doubt that Miles would have weasled his way into your thoughts regardless.

You’d checked your phone at least six times in the past hour in hopes of seeing a text, coming up with unconvincing excuses like checking the time, or the weather— all while blatantly pretending to be oblivious towards the possibility that a message from an unknown number might just be there, too.

And then it came.

[Unknown]: Best patty I’ve had in a while. Food always tastes better when it’s not yours :)

He had you on your stomach, features pulled into a hopeful smile with your legs fluttering in the air off one message. You’d remind yourself to get a grip in due time.

Who’s this?

You knew damn well who it was. But you wouldn’t be who you were if you didn’t play hard to get.

[Unknown]: Damn, you forgot about me that quickly?

You clicked the info button in the top right corner of your phone and saved him as a contact before you replied.

Maybe. Remind me of your name again? Micah, right?

[Miles]: Okay, now that’s just hurtful. I do not look like a Micah!

You laughed to yourself at that, flopping onto your back as you typed a response. In the back of your mind you wondered if things would progress any further than this conversation.

But if only you could’ve time travelled and spoken to your future self, because she would’ve told you that forgetting about a boy like Miles Morales, or trying to, would be impossible.

tags: @cctoma

[blackbirdsblackberries]

AQUIRING A ZOO

Chapter 1: A Ruff Day for two

Damian is humiliated. Who wouldn't be? Joker had teamed up with a bunch of other villains and had stolen a magical device that turns people into animals - why? Damian doesn't know!

While fighting however he was split from the rest of the family and hit with the ray.

You want to guess what animal he got the luck of turning into?

If you guessed a Yorkshire Terrier then you'd be correct.

It's not that Damian doesn't like the animal, he adores all animals no matter what, it's just offensive that that's what he ended up being. Couldn't he have been something cooler? A Doberman? A German Shepherd?

Whatever... Either way he is now wondering the streets trying not to get picked up by strangers - or stepped on for that matter.

While lost in thought about how he will get back to normal and whether his family are okay he didn't see the pair of legs standing in front of a closed shop.

He bumps into them, as soon as he does he dashes back and starts to growl - it's really all he can do.

He looks up at the figure who looks more confused than anything, they have a phone in their hand and pajamas on. They look half asleep.

Damian quickly deducts that the person was harmless.

Honestly, Damian was ready to just leave, walk around this person, yet when he attempted to a loud bang filled the air.

He swears it was the dog instincts, that it wasn't his own instincts, that made him run behind the person.

He's Damian Wayne! An al Ghul for crying out loud! No way is he scared of an explosion, even if it was even louder as a dog.

The person reacts slowly, clearly extremely tired. They turn to look at Damian and after a couple seconds they speak up, pulling Damian from his fight or flight response.

"Poor puppy... Are you lost?" The person bends down and slowly and carefully pats Damian. Damian is tempted to bite the person's hand off but refrains in case they call the pound.

"your coat is so well taken care of... Not to mention the fact that you're a handbag dog. You must belong to one of the wealthy elites... That part of town is so far away from here though, poor thing" their voice is soft, clearly tired. They yawn slightly.

"it's pretty late right now so the pound is probably closed, I'll take you tomorrow to check for a microchip because I don't see a collar."

Damian wishes he could scoff as a dog. Why would this stranger help him? Especially the breed he is. They're noisy, skittish and more, definitely not the type for run down apartments that this person definitely lives in.

Yet, he doesn't bite or growl when they pick him up. He squirms slightly in discomfort but soon enough they hold him properly.

Fine. He'll stay the night then in the morning he'll make his way back to Wayne Manor and find his family.

You have decided that your luck is absolute shit. It has to be. You're pretty sure whatever god is watching is purposefully planning your demise.

First, your lover of three years cheats on you.

Second, you fail two of your exams and forgot to hand in an assignment.

Third, your favorite convenience store closed early so you couldn't buy a tub of cheap ice cream so you can act out how a person in a movie would react to all of the above.

Fourth, a dog stumbles into you, clearly from some wealthy douche and now you've spoken before you thought and moved before you could comprehend.

Your landlord is going to have your head. A great way to end the shit show of a day, not to mention Yorkshire Terrier's are the most yap filled dogs imaginable. Luckily this one is quiet... Hopefully for the rest of the night.

You look down at your phone in your other hand, you were messaging your dad to ask for more money because you were recently fired from your last job.

It's not like you like asking others for money, it's embarrassing, but your dad is well off enough to send some over.

You and your family are stable, something a lot of people in Gotham can't relate to. Sucks to be them you guess.

The only reason you're living alone is because they live in Metropolis and you were studying at Gotham University.

Was the degree worth living in this dump of a city? You sure hope so. If not you'll actually become a villain.

You glance at the dog from time to time, checking for any discomfort. The dog is still, eyes blinking occasionally. Was it in thought? You didn't think dogs would think like that.

Eventually you make it to your apartment complex, it was better than the one next to it, but to be fair the one next to it was abandoned after a fire.

You head upstairs to your apartment on the third floor.

Turns out the higher the apartment from the ground is, the higher it will cost. Luckily for you your mother is paying for it, you just pay utility bills.

You struggle with your keys and the dog in your arms. Eventually though you open the door and all but throw the dog down, he was super heavy.

That or you just weren't used to holding anything that breathes.

The dog walks in and sniffs around.

"I suppose I should name you.." You speak aloud, closing the front door of the apartment and walking to the kitchen right next to it.

"how about... Buddy?" The dog huffs.

"No? Okay uhm... What are dog names? Give me a second." You search up dog names and click on an article.

"Uh, Oreo?" A huff.

"Max?" A huff.

You continue going down the list before groaning.

"Fuck me... Forget it, I'll put on the TV and the first name I see will be your name."

You grab the remote and turn on your shitty old TV. The news pops up, one of the headlines reading:

Robin seen being hit with animal ray!

"huh... What about Robin?" The dog rolls it's eyes but doesn't seem to object. You smile, relieved.

"Good. Robin it is."

[awkness]

Serial killer! Platonic! Yandere Older Brother & Genderneutral Teenage Reader (Part 2)

(Part 1) (Part 3)

As reader tries to adjust to their new life without their father, a number of concerning incidents occur, including off-putting behavior from your brother, prevents that from happening. But despite everything, you make a new friend. Surely, this can only mean good things for you, right? Things must be looking up!

Content warnings: implied murder, manipulation, domestic abuse, briefly mentioned alcoholism and child abuse, and general yandere shenanigans. If I missed anything here, please let me know :3

Authors note: lmao I have no excuse for being this late I'm just slow. This was originally supposed to be the last chapter but it got too long so I had to split it up. It feels like a bit of filler but I promise we'll get to the good stuff soon it just needs some set up. Part 3 should be the last part so I'll try not to be too slow uploading (<- lying)

There were very few things about your father you liked, but his house was one of them. It was something he had inherited from his father, who Ben would inherit as soon your father could be pronounced legally dead. It came with a master bedroom, two normal bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, a kitchen, the basement, and an attic.

The attic was something you had always been fascinated with as a child. It was spacious, fully insulated and even had an openable window. It could have been a bedroom all on its own. As a child, you had often daydreamed of moving your stuff up there, utilizing the bigger space for blanket forts and storing all the toys your little heart could desire. In reality, it was used in the same way the basement was, except it stored much more valuable items. Holiday decorations, clothes, old valuables that had no room to be displayed, and whatever family heirlooms your late father kept were shoved up above your head, taking space that could have been used for you. You had thought you had grown out of this fantasy, content with the room you had, but with your father gone and your brother running the house, the childhood dream had crept its way back into the front of your mind, tempting you with visions of a bigger, cooler room.

So, after working up the courage, you finally asked Ben if you could move up there. It surprised you just how easily he said yes.

And now you're here, Ben helping you sort through trash and treasure alike as you both clear out the room.

You pulled an unlabeled box from the seemingly endless pile, the top covered in dust and cobwebs. You try not to think about how many spiders are in the room with you now. Cleaning them out will be a trouble for another day.

The box opens easily, cardboard weak from age, a musty smell emanating from within. You look inside, only to be left dumbfounded. Why were there women's clothes in here?

"Hey, Ben, do you know whose clothes these are?"

Ben looks up from his own box, a vaguely confused look on his face. As he makes his way towards your box, you watch it drop into a frown.

"Those are moms."

"Oh." Is all you can say.

An awkward moment passes between you two as Ben stares into the box, face strange as he becomes lost in thought. You decide to break the tension.

"Why do you think he kept them?"

He looks away from the box and towards you, his body slowly beginning to relax.

"He was always a sentimental man, I guess that's reason enough for him."

You let out a snort. "What's there to be sentimental over? She cheated on him, divorced him, and then dumped us on him. She's not exactly a woman worth pining over."

"I'm not arguing with you, but you remember how he was. Couldn't ever let anything go."

He began rummaging through it, quickly getting to the bottom before closing it back up.

"Nothing but clothes. We should probably donate this."

You give a nod as you watch him put it in the growing donation pile. That was going to be such a pain to bring down to the car.

Instead of thinking about that, though, you turn your head to the box that Ben was searching through before you called him over.

"Is this one mom's too?"

Before you get an answer, you take a peek inside, only to once again be at a loss for how something like this could be in your home.

Inside was an assortment of strange objects. A broken polaroid camera, a stained photo album, and an array of metal objects like locks, deadbolts, and... were those shackles?

Before you could make out any more objects, Ben had made his way to you and reached over to close the flaps of the box.

"I doubt it, probably just more junk he couldn't throw away."

He turned around to you and smiled, hands holding the flaps shut.

"Want to do me a favor and go start bringing the donation boxes to the car?"

"Ugh, why do I have to bring them down?"

"Because you're the one who wanted to move up here."

You glared at him as his smile turned into an amused smirk, before you finally gave a huff and picked up a box from the pile.

"Jerk."

"Brat." The smile never left his face.

With only moderate trouble, you navigated your way down the stairs and out the door, making your way to the car. Unfortunately, you had only realized you forgot the keys when you tried to open the door to pop the trunk open.

You quietly mumble curses under your breath as you set the box next to the car, ready to make the trip back inside. Instead, you go completely still as you catch a look at the people across the street.

It was a small group of high schoolers your age, maybe older, who go to your school. They were standing the the yard across the street, a few houses down, talking together to throwing glances in your direction. Your ears strain as they try to make out their incoherent babble. They couldn't have known about your situation, could they? Or at least, what the official story was. It had been over a month since that happened, it doesn't make sense that they would be talking about it now. But you were just moving boxes out of the house such a short time after it happened. That looks suspicious, doesn't it? Of course it does. Why did you have to ask to move into the attic now?

You had been standing like a deer in headlights, openly staring for what felt like minutes before one of them seemingly made eye contact with you. You avert your gaze down as you feel your cheeks grow hot and your hands grow sweaty. A chorus of laughter erupts from the group.

Without thinking, you rush up to the door, fling it open, and slam directly into Ben as he was carrying. You hear it hit the floor as you speed walk past him.

"Wha- Hey! (Y/N)! What happened?"

You didn't reply. You barely even heard his words. Panic had fully taken over and kept you moving away from Ben, away from the door, away from the outside world, and all the judgemental people it contained.

You finally make it to your room, shutting the door behind you, and seating yourself on your bed, trying to get your bearings. 

Tears begin stinging your eyes as your shaky hands try and wipe them away. You wonder if they were still laughing at you.

A soft knock comes from your door, and your body shrinks inward, unprepared for the upcoming talk.

"Kid? Can I come in?"

You don't reply. You know Ben is going to come in anyway.

He waits a beat before opening the door, his face the picture of concern. His footsteps are quiet, and his movements gentle as he sits next to you. You find your body leaning away from him.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

You shrug, turning your head away from him. Even if you did want to talk, you couldn't trust your voice right now.

"Alright, that's fine, we can figure it out together. Was it something to do with mom's clothes?"

You don't move. Maybe if you don't answer, he'll leave and let you deal with your embarrassment in peace.

"The attic?"

A pause.

"Something in the box you were carrying...? Or maybe something outside?"

You stiffen, and immediately try to make yourself relax. Maybe he didn't notice?

"Does this have something to do with the neighbors?"

Oh. Nevermind.

Despite your best efforts, your body language must have given you away again. You hear the bed creak as he gets up, the blinds rustling a moment later as he gives a huff.

"It's those kids across the street, isn't it?" His voice takes on an edge of irritation, and you feel yourself curl inwards again.

The bed shifts as he takes his seat next to you again, a comforting hand placed on your shoulder. His voice takes on the softer quality it had before.

"I can't help you if you don't help me, kid. Did they talk to you?"

You shake your head, trying to talk, but finding the words stuck in your throat.

"They-" Your voice falters and you clear your throat, barely able to speak above a whisper.

"They didn't have to. I could see them looking at me and laughing, I knew they were talking about me, just like all the neighbors do whenever they see us. It's like they know. And these-"

You sniff, snot beginning to run and throat burning as you talk. Ben squeezes your shoulder, and you continue.

"These people go to my school, Ben. They know me. When I have to go back, they'll talk and tell everyone and the whole school will know what happened. They'll treat me different, they'll ask questions, and I won't know what to tell them-"

Your quivering voice finally gives out, and you cover your face. Ragged, irregular breaths come out as you try to force back the wave of emotions you've just unleashed. Gently, Ben pulls you to his chest as he rubs your back, murmuring gentle reassurances you couldn't quite hear.

Moments pass until your breathing finally evens out, eyes dry but still red and puffy. You slowly pull back and he lets you, his face full of worry. His hand still remains on your shoulder, an ever-present weight.

"You've had this on your mind for a long time, haven't you?"

You give a feeble nod. The thought of having to return to school had been weighing on you, but you hadn't realized how bad it had been until now. The thought is almost enough to send you spiraling again.

"I don't want to go back."

Ben gives you a smile. "You don't have to."

Your mind freezes for an instant, any and all thought muddled into incohereency.

"What?"

"Why don't I sign you up for online school this year? I remember you talking about wanting to do it a couple of months back, so why not now?"

"I..."

Your brows furrow. You did tell Ben that you wanted to do online school a couple of months ago before summer started. But this wasn't a new wish. You had been dreaming of being homeschooled since you had dreamed of living in the attic. Troubles in finding friends and fitting in had always followed you throughout the years until you realized the futility of it all, and only dreamt of a home where you didn't have to leave, and Ben and you could spend your days in peace. But the reality of your father's abuse had made school a begrudgingly safe haven of yours and you had slowly given up on that dream, too. But now that it was fully within your hands, you found yourself hesitating. Why? There was no monster in your home anymore, you were safe, and there's no reason to say no.

"I don't know."

He smiled.

"It wouldn't have to be permanent, just for this year. And if you don't like it, I can reenroll you back into your old school, so your options are always open. Plus, you're right, (Y/N). I know how cruel kids can be, especially when they're confronted with situations and people they don't understand. I don't want you to face that if you don't have to."

You gnaw on your lip, unsure of what to say. Ben was right on all accounts, the things he was saying made sense, and yet you couldn't find yourself saying yes. Why couldn't you let yourself have this?

"Can I think on it?"

Ironically, it came out of your mouth before you could think at all.

He nodded, his good-humored smile still on his face. You let out a small breath, so glad to still see it there.

"Of course, kid, it's a big decision. Take your time."

He gave your shoulder one last pat before getting up.

"I'm going to move the rest of the boxes in the car and go drop them off. You want me to pick up dinner on the way back?"

"Yeah, I'm fine with whatever."

"Alright. Rest up, I'll be back soon."

Unable to say much else, you nod as he gives you one last smile before he heads out the door, closing it behind him.

You rub your eyes, your body slowly unwinding from the tension just moments prior, until it gives in and you lay down on your bed.

With nothing else left to do, you crawl under your covers, the familiar comfort of the soft and worn fabric soothing your nerves. Distantly, you hear the sound of Ben's footsteps as he makes his way back and forth from the attic, the familiar and comforting sound lulling you into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning was pretty uneventful. Ben was off at work while you continued clearing the attic, sorting out the junk and keepsakes, only occasionally getting scared by the stray spiders that had made their home in the crevices between the boxes.

By noon, everything was sorted, with the only thing left being to take the boxes to be donated or tossed in the trash. But you needed Ben to help you with that, so you found yourself heading down to the kitchen, heating instant noodles in the microbe, wondering what you were going to do until he got home.

Around this time is when you usually went to go check the mail, but since yesterday, the thought of having to leave the house left you with an uneasy feeling, tension building in your spine and shoulders the longer you thought of it. A part of you was ashamed that you couldn't even walk out to the mailbox without it being a big deal, and another, much larger part, found immense relief in the thought of abandoning the task altogether, and not having any more chance encounters like yesterday. The more you considered it, the more you found your body sagging in relief. Yeah, Ben can grab it when he gets home, you're sure he wouldn't mind. It's no big deal.

The microwave beeps and you grab the noodles, all thought of the outside quickly leaving your head.

You had just dumped the flavor packet in when you heard a knock at the door.

Your heart, ashamed you were to admit, skipped a beat, and you froze mid-action, breath catching roughly in your throat. Who could that be? Maybe that was Ben, and he had just forgot his keys? No, that's stupid, he wouldn't be home this early, and he never forgets his keys. With no other answers coming to mind, you quietly set the packet down and got up to the door to peek through the peephole.

On the other side of the door stood one of your neighbors, a kid your age. You see him the most often out of all of your neighbors, often doing yard work and tending to the flowers in his front yard. He was also the guy you caught staring at you the most. Well, maybe staring wasn't completely accurate, but whenever you looked his way, you two would usually make eye contact before one of you shyly looked away. You didn't know why, and it played havoc on your nerves. He wore a hoodie despite the summer heat and had an envelope in his hand. He looked nervous.

You pull away and bring your hand to undo the locks before stopping.

For one glorious, tempting moment, you picture yourself turning around, going back to your noodles, and taking them upstairs and away from the door to eat in peace until Ben comes home.

Instead, you undo the locks and open the door.

Your neighbor looks slightly taken aback like he didn't expect anyone to answer. You try not to notice.

"Hello?" You ask.

"Oh, uh, hi! I'm Alex, your neighbor. I live right next to you, the house to the right, well- uh, my right, your left. The one with the red car and lawn gnomes out front?"

He gestures sheepishly towards his house, face nearing the complexion of a tomato.

"Nice to meet you, Alex. I'm (Y/N)."

The social protocols of politeness take over, unable to fully pay attention as your mind stalls, still in a state of shock from the anxiety of the situation.

"(Y/N)? That's a nice name." He smiles at you before quickly looking at the ground.

He hands the envelope over to you, speaking as you look over it.

"Uh, I just wanted to drop this off. I think our mail got mixed up."

Sure enough, the envelope had your brother's name and address on it.

"Oh, thank you." You say lamely.

For a beat, you wonder if you should say something more. It felt wrong to just leave the conversation as it was and close the door, but what else were you supposed to say? Before you can think about it, he speaks again.

"I, uh, wanted to say that I heard about what happened to your dad, and I'm sorry."

Again, your heartbeat skips, and you stiffen, body alert, eyes wide. You probably look like a deer caught in headlights in front of him if he wasn't still looking at the ground. The thought would embarrass you if it weren't for the sharp spike of adrenaline hitting your veins.

"I... I had a dad like him too."

And just like that, your body pauses its panic response, and you find yourself fully focused on him as he continues.

"I thought it would be easier after me and my mom moved away, and it has been, but those kinds of experiences don't just go away, and I wanted to say that you aren't alone."

You still felt a little wired from the previous scares, you you felt a strange sense of ease slowly pass through you at his words.

You stare at him, as he stares down, no words passing between you two before you finally speak.

"Thank you."

You only hesitate for a moment before continuing.

"It has been rough, but it's been more of a relief than anything. It's nice not having to hide away in my room until he leaves."

He looks up, a small smile gracing his face as he finally relaxes.

"Yeah, it's nice not having to check to see if he passed out in the house again."

You find your lips quirking up. "Or having to check his pulse when he is passed out."

"Not having to worry about him throwing a fit whenever he runs out of beer despite him being the one who drank it all."

"Not having to constantly hide food in your room so you have a supply when he does throw his tantrums"

Alex gave a disbelieving laugh.

"Yours let you get food out of the kitchen? There was a lock on the fridge and pantry when I lived with mine."

Your smile widened into one of disbelief, amusement, and shock. "What the hell? Why?"

"Kept getting upset that the food would go missing. Worst part is, every time he got blackout drunk, he'd binge eat, pass out and get mad at us for eating all the food."

You couldn't help it. You started giggling, and he started giggling, unable to react in any other way to the absurdity of it all.

"Sorry! I really shouldn't laugh-" You began, failing to stifle the laughter.

"Don't be!" He said. "He's a stupid guy, you should laugh at him."

You both share the moment, the laughter slowly dying down as you both take your first good look at each other. In this moment, you see something you can't help but talk about.

"Is that a minecraft necklace?"

He looks surprised, but pleasantly so. He glances down before holding it up with a grin. The pendant was the shape of a creeper head.

"Yeah, I'm a big fan!"

He puts it back down and his demeanor changes back to being sheepish, but not painfully so like he was before.

"I have minecraft for Xbox and a spare controller at my house. If you want, you can come over and play?"

It was your turn to be nervous again.

On one hand, you wanted to say 'absolutely'. You couldn't remember the last time you got invited to hang out, and the thought of something as normal as playing a video game with a friend was something you needed. Well, maybe you couldn't call him a friend yet, but you feel like you could, given enough time. Plus, after being so afraid of your neighbors and leaving your house, having someone come up to you and act so warm and friendly made you feel soft. It was hard to say no to that.

On the other hand, you had the nagging, unnameable feeling that Ben would be, upset, but you couldn't think up any concrete reason as to why. In fact, if you focused on that feeling too long, your mind went blank.

Sure, you were going about out of the house without him knowing, but Ben has always been supportive of you. Sure, he's never really discussed rules about going over to a friend's house because the situations never come up, but he's fairly easygoing. You were sure that if you explained why you went, he would be understanding. Happy, even.

Plus, you were only going next door, you had your phone on you, and you would be back before Ben came home, so it's not like he had to even know what happened. Not that you wanted to lie to him, but something about that option comforted you more than any of the other things you listed.

Discomfort pushed aside, you gave a smile back to Alex.

"Sure thing, let me grab my phone."

It could have been the perfect hangout. Alex's mom was nice, bringing you two snacks and telling stories from Alex's childhood despite his embarrassment, as you two hung out in the living room while he helped you figure out the controls. Soon enough, you two were building a base together, laughing at each other as a creeper or sneaky skeleton would get kills on you both.

You were halfway through making the third story of the base when your phone started ringing. You felt your heart drop to your stomach when you saw Ben's picture on the screen.

"Shit."

You immediately pocketed in and got up.

"What's wrong?" He paused the game and looked up.

"I wasn't supposed to stay so late, my brother's probably home by now."

You went over to the window and peeked through the blinds, and as fate would have it, you saw his car in the driveway.

You hear Alex speak from the couch, voice slightly concerned.

"You're not going to get in trouble, are you?"

That was the question, wasn't it?

"I... don't think so. Maybe? I've never been out late before."

"If you want, I can come with you and explain what happened. I'll take the blame."

Despite your growing worry, you felt a pang of gratitude come through. You gave a small smile.

"That's okay, he'll probably be a little mad, but I don't think it's that serious."

You headed to the door, Alex following behind.

"Hey, on the chance you don't get grounded or whatever, here's my phone number."

You look back and see him scribbling on a piece of paper before he hands it over to you. You take it and look at sloppy, but thankfully still legible writing, and give a bigger, more genuine smile.

"I'll text you later. If I still have my phone, that is." You joke, or at least try to.

He gives a smile and a wave as you turn back and exit the front door.

As it closes behind you, the warmth of the interaction slowly leaches from you and leaves you feeling cold and rattled.

You didn't fully believe the things you said to Alex. You had no real idea what Ben would like because you had never gone against what he said before. The thought alone turned your stomach into knots. It was simply how you two functioned, Ben was the one in charge and made the big decisions, and you listened. Sure, he never had any explicit rules about this, but that didn't mean anything.

As you made the short walk to your home, you began strategizing.

You should do damage control right away, start apologizing straight away, and let him know where you were and what you were doing. Wait, should you mention Alex? At that thought, you shoved the paper with his number deep in your pocket. You didn't want Ben to see it.

Before you could think about it anymore, you were at your front door. Your back tensed, and you hesitated only a moment before opening the door. Waiting would only make it worse.

Before you can fully step in, you see Ben pacing the kitchen, brows furrowed, face strained. As soon as he heard you, his head whipped up, and you felt yourself freeze like a rabbit spotted by a wolf. Frozen, unable to do anything else than stare.

"(Y/N)?"

Just like that, you were broken out of your trance, finally allowed to move again.

You step in all the way and close the door behind you.

"I'm sorry! I didn't think I'd be out that long, I wasn't keeping track of time, I-"

Your voice died the moment you looked back to Ben's face, his features looked so... angry. You've never seen him look at you like that before, never seen him look like that at all. It set off a loud, blaring warning in your brain that something was wrong, and that you needed to leave. But that was crazy. This is Ben, your brother, you were fine.

You tried to start again.

"I was..."

It tapered off as you saw him move towards you, movement swift and robotic as he kept his attention on you. Without thinking, you shrunk back.

"Ben-"

Before you could finish he's in front of you, grabbing your shoulders so tightly it's borderline painful. You grip his arms, weakly trying to push away, knowing better than to seriously try.

"Where were you?"

There was such a dangerous edge to his voice that you couldn't think, couldn't look away. Your breaths came out shallow and your voice so tiny you could barely hear it.

"With the neighbors."

That only made him angrier.

"What neighbors? We don't talk to the neighbors here."

Oh, you were shaking now.

"With- with the neighbors right next to us, the Rogers. I was hanging out with Alex-"

"Who the Hell is Alex?"

His grip got tighter as he shook you, and you could feel the bruises forming. You started pushing at him again, but your arms trembled so badly you might as well not have tried.

"B-Ben, it hurts."

Your voice was so thick with emotion that it was hardly coherent, but Ben understood.

His face blanked for a moment, body shocked to stillness as you continued to try and leave. Then, without warning, he let you go, turned his back and walked a few paces away from you, pinching his nose as he let out a sharp breath.

You listen to him as he takes deep breaths while you rub your sore arms, snot beginning to run as your eyes turn wet. As you step away, you feel your back pressed against the door, and you have the fleeting idea to open it and run away. You realize what you're thinking, and the idea terrifies you so deeply you stay rooted to the spot.

Finally, Ben turns back, face still hardened but not as severely as before.

"Who's Alex?"

You sniff. You really didn't want to do this anymore.

"He's the neighbor's kid. Our mail got mixed up and he brought it over to me, and invited me over to hang out."

You probably should have stopped there, but some scared, hurt part of you needed Ben to understand that you didn't mean this, it wasn't your fault. Your voice cracked as you continued.

"I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. It was only supposed for a little bit, I didn't think I would be over for so long, just an hour or two. I- I didn't mean for this to happen, I should- I should of called you."

You stopped, but only because the shaking in your hands had spread to your voice, and you didn't think you could keep going without sounding like a complete mess.

His face didn't soften for a moment, staring blankly as you had gone on. After it ended, he closed his eyes, rubbed his face and gave a sharp sigh.

You couldn't read him when he looked away. Was he calming down? Did that make him more upset? Every second that ticked by frayed your already worn-out nerves. You were only one yell away from bursting into tears.

He looked up again, face the same as it was before.

"Do you know what it's like to come home with the door unlocked and see you missing, with no goddamn clue where you could be? What was I supposed to think? You didn't even pick up your damn phone!"

He stopped, took a breath, and then continued, a dangerously calm edge to his voice.

"And then you tell me you decided to stay over at a stranger's house without calling me? A person you only met today? They could of been anybody, anything could happened to you. I thought you had better sense than that."

It stung.

"I'm sorry."

It sounded small and pathetic, even to your own ears.

He let out a sigh.

"Go to your room. We'll talk about this more later."

You don't think twice. You rush away on shaky legs to your room and quietly close the door behind you, afraid of doing anything else to set him off. The bed lets out a soft creak as you sit down. You gather your quivering hands in your lap and look down on them, not sure what to do with yourself.

Before you can think about it any further, you hear the front door open and slam shut, then the car turning on and driving away.

As it quiets down, you can't help it. Stifled sobs climb their way out of your chest, feeling like they're choking you until you can't resist anymore. You collapse on your bed, openly crying until you exhaust yourself to sleep.

The next morning felt almost surreal. You woke up to hearing Ben walking about the house as he did his morning routine. Usually, you would be out of the room right now doing the same, with you both then sitting down to eat breakfast together until it was time for him to leave. This time, you stayed in bed the entire time, idly scrolling your phone as you listened to his footsteps.

A part of you expected him to knock at your door, and ask you why you weren't out yet. Instead, you heard the sizzle of eggs hitting a hot pan as they cooked, and after a short few moments, the front door opening, closing, and locking behind him. The familiar sounds of the car's engine slowly faded away, and you finally got out of your bed, ready to start your day.

You decided to text Alex. You were hesitant to give the details of what happened, simply saying that Ben was upset and things were tense, and thankfully, Alex never pushed it. Instead, he started sending you memes and talking about his ideas for the minecraft world you both started. It was surprising how easy it was to talk to him, the conversation going for hours before he had to leave to help with dinner.

When it was time for Ben to come home, you scurried back to your room, feeling relieved but guilty when you closed the door. On one hand, you could still feel the fear you had last night, and you had no idea what to do with it. It was perplexing and off-putting, and thinking too hard on it made you feel like your brain was turning to static, so you opted to not think about it at all, which meant avoiding your brother as well.

But the guilt wouldn't let you be. It turned what should have been the comfort of your room into a place of wrongness, that you were doing something awful by keeping yourself here and not going down to see him like you usually did. Your lip began to bleed, and only then you realized you had been chewing on it since you heard Ben's car pull in.

You contemplated texting Alex for a distraction as you heard him make his way into the house. And then, step by step, make his way way to the hallway, and then to your door.

And then, the knock.

"Can I come in?"

You don't know if you want to answer, so you don't.

"I know you're awake, kid. Your lights on."

Thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to figure out what to do. For a moment, your mind latched onto the idea that you could pretend to be asleep, but you immediately shrugged it off. This was going to happen anyway, might as well happen now.

"Come in."

The door opens, and you see Ben, completely exhausted, his gaze nervously flitting towards you and the floor as he carried a fast food bag in his hand.

"I brought dinner."

You instinctively perk up at the mention of food, and he takes that as a sign to step closer and sit on the far side of the bed, bag between you two, as he clasped his hands together. His leg starts to quickly bounce before he stops it.

"Figured I'd pick up something on the way home. Didn't feel like cooking.

You nod, even though there's something in you that compels you to do or say more to try and ease his nerves. Even now, after what he did, you hate to see him upset. You try to push the urge to comfort down as you pointedly look away.

Both of you sit in silence while looking anywhere but at each other. In your peripheral, you can see him fidgeting with his hands.

"I know I scared you last night, I just-"

He nervously shifts in his seat. His voice is halting but sincere.

"It worried me, seeing you gone. You mean so much to me, (Y/N). Ever since you were born, I've been there to take care of you. I can't remember a time without you, and I don't want to. You're a part of me, without you, I... I don't even know who I am."

You look over at him and freeze. You're big brother, the man who protected you and cared for you your whole life, is bunched in on himself, face strained and twitching with barely contained emotion as he doggedly stares directly ahead, like looking at you would hurt him. His eyes are red and dark circles frame them. You swallow, years of experience screaming at you to reach over and comfort him, but instead, you sit, never once looking away as he continues talking.

"I shouldn't have done that to you, kid. I should of known better. Should of contained myself. I try so hard for you, but there's times it feels like it isn't enough, and it keeps me up at night."

He sniffs, and your eyes begin to blur.

"I never wanted to be like that in front of you, you didn't deserve to see that. I-"

He wipes his hands over his face, taking a deep breath as he tries to collect himself. After a beat, he uncovers his face and finally looks at you.

"I'm sorry."

It was like a spell had been broken. You found yourself pushing a food to the side and leaning against his shoulder. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around you, and when you didn't resist, he reached his other arm around you, pulled you into his chest, and began softly rocking you back and forth.

You feel the rise and fall of his chest, and it feels the same as you did as a kid when you would run up to him when something scared you, or when you felt your emotions overwhelm you. He would hold you tight and it felt like you were in the safest place in the world. The relief of that feeling after everything you had been through was like coming home.

Still safely tucked in his arms, you spoke again, voice more quiet and child-like than you meant it to be.

"Promise me you won't do that again."

The mere thought of him acting so uncontrollably and violently towards you was enough to make you nauseous.

He squeezed you tight.

"I promise, kid, never again."

You nodded, unable to reply. The both of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before he slowly began letting you go.

After getting fully untangled, you rub your eyes, a feeling of exhaustion settling in as your stomach rumbles.

"I'm hungry."

"Hi hungry, I'm Ben."

His reply is so quick, you think it's automatic for him.

You shoot him a glare, but it's undermined by your smile. He returns it with one of his own.

"You wanna go down and eat? I got you a milkshake too, it's down in the kitchen. But might be a bit melted by now."

You spring up, fast food bag in hand as you make your way towards the door.

"Why didn't you say so, let's go!"

You hear him let out a chuckle, and you let out one reflectively, too.

You both share the meal together, talking and laughing late into the evening, until it was finally time to sleep. You drifted off easily into a deep, restful sleep, finally at peace.

[buckgasms]

Dr's. Barnes and Rogers (Part 1)

Don't worry I am already writing part two I just needed to set the scene before we get to the goooood stuff 🩷

This is doctor kink territory y'all 💦

Tagging @biteofcherry for being a wonderful enabler. Thank you for bringing this out of me and many others with one simple question 😂

@zonkie-bee

Just note this part contains mentions of pregnancy, fertility talk and a gaslighting ex-husband (he's not in it tho). If that might trigger you just give me a day and the next chapter will be just pure filth.

You sat in the waiting room of the Barnes & Rogers Clinic, feet tapping nervously. You were here to have a fertility check up, already feeling like you knew the sad truth.

Your ex husband had been certain that you couldn't have children, that the process of trying to have a baby had been made more painful for your failures. He was a dick. But the doubt and worries continued to plague you.

Finally a friend gently suggested you go to the best fertility clinic in the city. Then you could get actual answers and real solutions. It took some persuading but you decided to try it. What did you have to lose?

At that moment the office door clicked open and Dr. Barnes popped his head out. "Are you my 10am appointment?" You nod and he steps back, and you shuffle in, hoping he doesn't notice how flustered you are at how absolutely gorgeous he is.

You take a seat on the comfy couch, as he sits in an armchair across from you. You try to relax as he welcomes you and picks up his paperwork.

"So, your papers say you're worried about your ability to conceive? Are you married or trying for a baby currently?" He asks, a strand of hair falling into his face as he looks at you with kind, professional concern.

"Um... No not married anymore. That's um.... That's why we split. I just wanted to know...if it was...me? My ex said.... It was me..."

He nods, a glimmer of anger seems to cross his features. "It's never anyone's fault sweetheart..." you smile a little, a flutter in your stomach but then he moves on. He asks questions about your diet, physical activity, and of course your previous attempts at trying to get pregnant. It brings up some painful memories and he is very sympathetic and gentle with you.

"I know this is hard, you're doing so well. Don't worry sweetheart, we'll sort all this out together ok?" You look at his sweet, handsome face and smile. You feel better already. After a further few questions he leads you into his consultation room and explains the tests he's about to conduct.

The big examination bed with stirrups looks a little intimidating but his hand presses at your lower back and guides you with more confidence. "I need to take a sample, which might be a little uncomfortable but I'll do my best to be gentle ok. Just take off your skirt and underwear and get comfortable in the stirrups." He heads out of the room and you hear him chatting to another man in the corridor.

After a few moments you are legs akimbo and feeling a bit ridiculous. But the leather beneath you is soft and smooth, and the room is warm so you feel as comfortable as you'll ever be. He comes back in and he clears his throat at the view of you.

From his perspective the most beautiful perfect angel is laying spread out on his chair, her most intimate parts there for him to enjoy, but for you, you just feel nervous.

"Ok sweetheart, just relax while I check you over. Don't be embarrassed about any reactions you might have. Totally normal." You huff out a laugh and scoot down at his guidance, goosebumps breaking out as you feel his warm breath fan over your intimate area.

The way he probes you makes you bite your lip as you try not to moan. It's honestly the best pelvic exam you've ever had. By the time it comes for him to take a sample you are almost totally unaware of why you are there in the first place.

When he announces he's finished you are mortified to hear yourself whine in disappointment. Thankfully he either doesn't here or pretends he doesn't so you can chide yourself for being such an embarrassment as you get dressed.

"Ok sweetheart, I'll give you a call once we get the results." You shake his soft hand and he squeezes it gently as you smile and make you way out of his office.

⚕️

So here you were a few weeks later. You felt so nervous because when Dr Barnes called you he didn't actually tell you the results. He just told you to come in because he needed to discuss things face to face.

Finally the door clicked open and you were greeted by the handsome face of Dr Barnes. You smiled tightly as you walked in but were surprised to see another doctor sitting in the office on the couch. "This is Dr. Rogers, I wanted to have him here for this consultation, I hope that's ok?"

You nodded,trying to ignore how gorgeous both these doctors were before dropping your bag to the floor and sinking into the seat. It must be really bad if it takes two hot doctors to tell you what's written on that paper.

"Are you ok sweetheart?" Barnes asks, looking concerned at you, reading your mood as Dr Rogers turns towards you, his face also reading concern. Your eyes well up and you sink backwards into the cushions. "Can you just get it over with and tell me I'll never.... That I can't...." You broke into sobs and they both came over to you, rubbing gentle hands over your back and shoulders.

"Oh honey! No! I'm so sorry, it's not like that at all!" Barnes curses and squeezes your shoulder. You hiccup a sob and look up at them both. "What do you mean?" Dr Rogers tuts and grabs the paper from his colleague. "What my partner has stupidly failed to mention to you is that, you are in fact very much able to have babies and you don't have anything at all to worry about in terms of your fertility..."

You glance between them both, Barnes looking sheepish and Rogers looking concerned before collapsing into a combination of sobs and giggles. You can't stop laughing from sheer joy and tears of relief slip down your cheeks. Both of the doctors chuckle in surprise at your reaction. Once you calm down a more comfortable mood fills the room.

"I've always wanted a family of my own. Thank you, I feel like I can have that again now..." You smile at them both and they smile back, "just need to find the right man huh?"

"Well what about another route?" Doctor Rogers draws your attention his way and you cock your eyebrow at him. "What would that be?"

He settles back emanating confidence and professionalism, Barnes reclaims his seat and watches. "We have a trial programme, you can sign up for an insemination and we will monitor you from now until the birth of the child or children. There is considerable remuneration and you can even be provided with new accommodation should you desire it..."

You were dumbfounded. You'd never heard of anything like this before and it certainly sounded life changing, but pretty amazing at the same time. "There has to be a catch?" You say suspiciously, unable to believe this is actually real.

"Well, the insemination process is... revolutionary so it requires some open minded thinking..." Barnes says and you feel a bloom of excitement in your stomach as he looks at you.

"And once the baby is born? Is there still help or monitoring? Or are we just out in the world alone?"

You chuckle but they seem to take it quite seriously. "Absolutely not! We... I mean the programme is very interested in the life span of the child. Besides if you are successful you might want to have another perhaps?" Rogers tries to act casual but you feel like you've stumbled on something there.

Barnes hands you an envelope. "Inside is all the information plus the potential candidates for the donors. Take it home, read it and if you want to take part, call me. If not, no harm done."

⚕️

At home you spent a little while pretending to ignore the envelope but finally you caved and had a read through.

There was very little information about the medical procedures other than the things you might expect. Thorough examination process, compatibility, tests and so on. The next set of documents were mostly about the remuneration which almost made your eyes pop out of your head. Thirty Thousand dollars for the first year! All medical costs covered! It also detailed the new accommodation which sounded like the most luxurious apartment on earth. It was almost too good to resist as you looked around your rented studio flat, your instant ramen going cold as you read.

Finally there was a piece of paper that detailed the potential donors. Only two in fact. A tall blonde, with blue eyes, physically fit and a doctor! The other was a slightly shorter brunette, with blue eyes, physically fit.....and a doctor....

Oh...

⚕️

Part two

[doumadono]

HELP ME DECIDE - DABI X READER X SHIGARAKI FIC

Hey lovelies! 🌙✨

As some of you might already know, I'm currently working on a Dabi x Reader x Shigaraki fanfic with elements of ShigaDabi (yes, it's smutty - what else would it be? 😅) After letting a couple of trusted friends peek at my WIP, they suggested that it might work better if I split the story into two parts — considering I’m already sitting at nearly seven pages, and we haven’t even touched the smut yet 😏

Here’s a quick rundown of the plot so far: The Reader, feeling heartbroken after a nasty breakup, decides to hit up a shady villain club to drown her sorrows. Naturally, Shigaraki spots her first and, being the scheming bastard he is, convinces Dabi to lure her into their VIP lounge. We all know these two don’t play nice — unless they’re playing with their prey🔥

Now, here are the two ideas I’m toying with:

✨ Option 1: one long, filthy fic (threesome + some kinky stuff)

🔥 Option 2: split the filthy fic into 2 or max 3 chapters (threesome + some kinky stuff but with more plot & more smutty parts). After the Reader proves she's more than just a pretty face — and the boys find themselves thoroughly impressed with both her quirk and other talents, realizing she’s too valuable to let slip away, Shiggy makes her an enticing offer: ditch her boring, ordinary life and join the League.

I’d love to hear what you think! 💜🖤

[beardedjoel]

pretty little wife | meet cute, part 1

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨ summary: 8.3k words; you didn't feel like going out for your friends birthday that night, but it turned out fate had very different plans for you. or a flashback to the night joel and pretty wife met. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, relationship not established here like the other chapters, unprotected piv, public sex, rough sex, sub/dom relationship, dirty talk, pet names for reader, alcohol consumption a/n: this was getting super long and has been so much fun to write so i'm splitting it into two parts to also show their first date! i'm actually so obsessed with them its getting delusional and not even funny anymore but i digress

You hadn’t particularly wanted to go out tonight, but it was your friend Hanna’s birthday and her soft, doe-like eyes when she’d begged you to come had you giving in quickly. Sure, you had what felt like a million things to study for, homework piling up, but the more you thought about it, the better a night out sounded. 

She’d picked a relatively nondescript dive bar as her venue of choice, saying that it had cheap drinks, and seeing as it was her 21st birthday, she wanted to get drunk for as little money as possible. 

You and about ten other girls file into the bar, immediately having what feels like every set of eyes in the room on you all. You’d bet it’s not every day that an overdressed, loud group of young twenty-something’s walks into this place ready to get plastered. 

You all crowd around a few tables, pushing them together, and Hanna spots a jukebox, excitedly gushing over the way she’s going to put on all of her favorite songs later and dance when she gets drunk enough. 

After your first cocktail, you’re already having so much fun  that you wonder why you even had any doubts about coming out tonight. You laugh hard at something one of your friends, Rachel, says and your face falls immediately as your attention catches on something across the room. Not something, but someone. 

A man, who you’d guess is somewhere in his forties or fifties from the looks of it, is sitting with his own group. Even in the darkened shadows of the room, you’re mesmerized - he has a grumpy smile on his face as he chats with the person next to him. He runs a hand through grown out, dark curls and you can see the top half of his body above the bar top, muscled and broad and so inviting. 

You force yourself to blink, about to look away, when you see his eyes catch on yours. You feel your heart sink, hoping he didn’t catch you staring so intently, but swear he gives you a little wink before turning back to his beer that he’s nursing in one hand. Your insides flutter at the gesture, hoping your delusional self didn’t just imagine him sending that wink your way. 

You feel your stomach twist, and realize that despite how attractive you think he is, you’re typically way too shy to make the first move, so it’s unlikely much will come of this newfound attraction. You couldn’t help but continue to glance at him while you chat with your friends for the next hour, drinking in his mannerisms and ruggedly good looks, wishing you could hear what he was saying across this crowded, noisy room. 

You’d never felt like this before upon simply seeing someone, and it made your brain buzz more than the alcohol was, a steady little humming in the back of your mind. In fact, you hadn’t had more than a cocktail at this point, and were actively trying to blame this crazy feeling you were having on anything other than the handsome stranger you just couldn’t seem to stop staring at. 

You decide maybe another drink would help, so you break off from your friends to go up to the bar and order something.

You’re looking over the list of cocktails on a concerningly sticky laminated menu, scrunching your face up in disgust. You knew this place was divey, but their list of cocktails is downright depressing. Your first one hadn’t been very good, either, so you decide to change directions and order a beer instead. 

You glance around the room as you wait to catch the busy bartender’s attention while they flit around, taking orders and making beverages. Your eyes widen a bit as they land on Handsome Stranger, who is now openly meeting your gaze without shame.

You try to avert your eyes out of pure embarrassment, but you keep yourself staring for a moment too long before nervously chewing your lip and gazing down at the bar, pretending to be overly interested in the menu again. 

When you gather the courage to glance back up at where he was sitting, Handsome Stranger is gone, and you survey the area in a tiny panic, swinging your head to the side only to see him curving around the edge of the bar and walking straight towards you. 

He’s coming over. Oh god. 

He settles himself against the bar right next to you and clears his throat a little, cocking his head.

“Hi, there,” he says, and your jaw nearly drops at the husky, rasping accented voice that drips off his tongue like one of the sweetest sounds your ears have ever heard. You actively fight a shudder that wants to wrack your body, thinking of what that deep rumble would sound like against your neck, your lips, your everywhere.

You give him a nervous chuckle and swallow hard, hoping he doesn’t notice. “Hey,” you reply, wishing you suddenly felt less shy under his dark, brooding gaze. You suddenly are overly aware of how loud the room is, a myriad of classic rock, pop, rap, and everything in between blaring through the speakers from the jukebox the entire night. The realization hits you that you two may have to get closer to hear each other coherently and your stomach twists a little in anticipation. 

“Listen, I don’t usually do-“ he starts, but you can’t catch what he’s saying over the noise, so you scrunch your brows together and cup your ear in his direction. 

“What’s that?” You feel like you practically yell the words to him, your cheeks heating as he starts to lean closer. His face is merely inches from yours now, his mouth angled towards your ear. You get a better look at his face now, his dark, wiry beard with a few graying patches, and some deeper set lines in his face surrounded by speckled, tan skin. He’s rugged and handsome and everything that turns you on personified. It’s actually insane, now that you think about it, to see someone so seemingly perfectly made for you looks-wise, let alone have them interested in talking to you. 

“I said…” the man says, clearing his throat again. “I don’t usually do this kinda thing, but…” he trails off, studying your face for a few moments. You watch on intently, already enraptured by his words, not even able to form a follow up to prompt him to continue speaking. 

“But you’re so damn beautiful I had to say somethin’ to ya before you snuck away,” he says. His voice hits deep in your core now that it’s closer, sending you belly swirling in a sickly addictive feeling, one that you already know will be hard to shake tonight. You blink hard, wondering if he’d managed to speak to the wrong girl, but he’s looking right into your eyes without an ounce of doubt hidden behind those dark irises. 

“I… don’t know about that…” you mumble, but he cocks his head further, brows knitted together. 

“Would never say somethin’ like that if I wasn’t telling the truth,” he replies a bit more seriously. You bite your lip and decide that maybe you do trust him - that this handsome, mystery man really does have eyes for you in a bar full of attractive women. 

“Well, thank you,” you say, puffing your chest up a bit with a smile. “You’re not too bad looking yourself,” you add on, finally feeling a bit of your icy shyness melting away. 

He chuckles lightly, rubbing a nervous hand behind his neck, leaving a red mark in its wake. “Would you have a drink with me?”

You lick your lips and then bite the bottom one, contemplating. You don’t fail to notice Joel’s eyes flick down to that exact spot, then to your throat where you swallow again.

“I’d like that.”

“Somewhere quieter?” he calls out towards your ear, and you nod enthusiastically. He orders you two drinks, shooting an eyebrow up when you request a beer as well, and leads you to a small, cozy booth off to the side where there at the least aren’t speakers directly over your heads. 

“Now,” he rumbles out, folding his hands on top of the table  “What’s a girl like you doin’ here?” he asks as you slide into the seat across from him and settle in. 

You breathe an amused laugh through your nose. “My friends,” you say, motioning with a thumb over your shoulder in their direction, where they’re seemingly still having a great time together, a fit of giggles as they all sip their drinks. “One friend wanted the divey experience tonight for her birthday, I guess. Cheap drinks.”

Handsome Stranger’s eyes flick past you to your friends, and you see a flash of recognition as he processes Hanna’s extremely gaudy 21st birthday sash. You can see the gears turning, see him putting the pieces together as his lips part from the tight line they’d been settled in. 

“Hmm,” he grumbles, eyes back on you and seeming to consider you for a moment, taking in your face and making you feel your body temperature suddenly rising. You want to tug on your collar, do something to alleviate it, but can’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, breaking completely under his stare. “I- I’ll be twenty two soon, so… I’m not…” you trail off, losing all conviction in whatever message you were trying to convey. Handsome Stranger has been too quiet, too guarded regarding this new information, and you feel your stomach turn nervously. 

“Did I just mess this up?” you blurt out, your face betraying you completely and contorting into a worried expression. He gives you a tired sounding chuckle, running a hand through his beard then back around to his neck. 

“No, darlin’, sorry. I - I don’t have a problem with it. Jus’ needed a second. You look… a bit older, so I was surprised, I guess.”

Your shoulders sag in relief - you hadn’t expected to be so devastated at the prospect of losing your new acquaintance’s attention so quickly, and only because of your age. You’d always been interested in older men, and had even been on a few dates with some, but nobody that pulled you in immediately like the stunningly gorgeous man sitting in front of you now. 

You lower your eyes to your lap, wringing your hands together. “You don’t have to be nice, I understand if you’re not interested. I’ve ended up being too young for a lot of guys I’ve talked to.”

“You’re talkin’ to a lot of guys my age, are you?”

Your eyes shoot back up to him, finding a new confidence that he’s still flirting with you. You shrug casually, fluttering your lashes a bit as you smirk. “Maybe, maybe not.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, frowning. “I gotta say, I don’t think I like that.”

You lean forward on the table, folding your arms in front of you as you rest your forearms down to support yourself. You stare into his dark yet warm eyes and try your best to cock an intimidating eyebrow. 

“And why is that?” you ask, upping your voice an octave, trying to sound more innocent. 

Handsome Stranger takes a deep breath, sighing and mirroring you by leaning himself closer to you. You can inspect him even closer now, smell the beer on him and whatever that musky, manly scent is that he carries with him, something you can already tell will be addictive. 

“‘Cause I want you all to myself.”

You stun at his words a little, knowing that your face is giving it away - your confident, fierce facade fading in an instant. You lick your lips nervously, his dark, desirous tone digging deep inside of you, lodging itself in your core and starting another pooling of arousal between your legs. You finally turn your lips up a little, meeting his gaze with a hard stare again while you put your chin in your hands. 

“You’ve got me right here, don’t you?”

He seems to like that, breaking the intensity between you two with a small laugh, leaning back and taking a long sip of his beer. 

“I’m Joel,” he says, and your smile widens as you consider the name on him, finding it suits him perfectly. It dawns on you that you’d been so absorbed in the conversation you didn’t even realize that you had no clue what his name was, that you may have even been content to fall in love with the man right here tonight and not even know his name. 

You tell him your name in return and it gets a genuine grin out of him, like hearing it for the first time was an answer to a question he’d long been asking himself. 

“You know, I could ask you the same thing - what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

“Don’t think I look like the kind of guy who spends his nights in a place like this?”

“I mean… sort of…” you say shyly, trying not to laugh nervously. “You come here a lot?”

Joel seems amused by the way he’s getting you to blush and stutter. “Sometimes, with some crew from work. But that‘s what I'd expect, not… someone like you, honey. Ain’t no place for someone like you.”

“Well,” you twist your lips to the side teasingly. “I’m here, whether you like it or not.”

“Or not?” Joel chuckles incredulously. “Think I made it clear I certainly like it.”

You just give him a smug smile and sip from your drink, trying not to make a sour face in front of Joel, who seems to actually be enjoying his beer quite a bit. You’ve never been a big fan of beer, but it’s at least better than those stomach churning cocktails. 

“So, here with people from work… what do you do?”

“Contracting. Jus’ started my own company, actually. With my brother.” Joel tells you, and you give him an impressed raise of your eyebrows. 

“That’s really cool. Very impressive that you’re the big boss.” You lean in again to show your interest and toss your hair over your shoulder.

Joel’s eyes flash a little darker. “Like hearin’ that name from you,” he chuckles, “Otherwise it’s been a lot of pressure to be the boss, I guess.”

“Is it going well, though?”

Joel nods with a little shrug. “S’okay. Pickin’ up now so we’re doin’ good.” 

You give him an encouraging smile, trying to think of what to say next, feeling like a nervous mess around him, wanting him to think you’re interesting and worth his time, not just some young girl with nothing to offer. 

“Now what about you? Assume you’re in school?” he asks.

You try not to roll your eyes at the sore subject and breathe out a sigh. “Yeah, I am. I just… I’m not really into it.” 

Joel looks on curiously. “Uh-huh. Boring classes?”

“Not even that. I just don’t… like it. I’m so tired of having no clue what I’m doing. I thought about teaching, doing something like that, but I don’t know…” You let out a small sigh. “Sounds entitled or stupid maybe, but I just can’t find my passion there.” You feel your frustration coming out unfairly onto Joel, dropping your hands onto the table with an irritated thud.

“Not at all, sweetheart,” Joel says, laying one of his hands on the table, offering it to you as he slides it over, resting it on top of yours. “Some people ain’t meant for school. I didn’t really have a choice to not go to college, but worked out alright for m’self, right?”

You nod with a thoughtful look, despite barely knowing much of anything about how things worked out for Joel, but you believe him. Or at the least, he sounded happy enough to be owning his own contracting company.

“Thanks,” you say simply, offering him a grateful smile. 

Joel leans forward again on the table, not moving his hand from yours, and you feel hot all over. “‘Course. Now how ‘bout I help you find what you’re passionate about, hm?”

An hour and several more drinks later, you’ve moved over to Joel’s side of the booth at his insistence, where he pulled you nearly onto his lap, your thighs crossed over his as your ass is planted in the booth right next to him. A steady arm of his is wrapped around your back and pulling you close to him, stroking relaxed circles as you two chat. You feel perfectly content, buzzed from the alcohol and comfortable in Joel’s embrace, despite this being the first night you’ve even met him Something about him has put you at ease yet excited you, a consistent skittering of electricity across your skin where it connects to his.

You’ve discovered that you have more in common with a man in his mid forties than you might have thought. But along the way you’ve noted enough differences that you two have to keep the conversation balanced, having different interests and perspectives to add into the mix. Your banter has some kind of alluring pull with Joel, never stopping the beautiful flow of chatter and laughter you’ve found together until he leans in on a quieter moment, kissing your cheek and then moving to your neck. You feel your breath hitch at the warmth of his lips, your body stiffening yet going soft for him, breathing out shakily. 

“Mm,” you whimper quietly, unsure if he can hear it over the noise of the room. 

“Like it when I kiss you here, hm?” he rumbles, moving his lips to your ear where he ghosts his lips over your sensitive earlobe then back down to your neck. 

“Uh-huh,” you manage to say, eyes fluttering as you lean further into him. He keeps kissing every sensitive little bit of skin on your neck, trailing down to your collarbone and inward. “Jesus…” you whimper as he suddenly sucks lightly on your neck, testing you. 

“I gotta mark you, let everyone know…” he murmurs, sucking another spot not even inches away. You squirm, grinding your ass into the seat as you rub your legs together, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Joel. “You’re mine tonight.”

You feel your cunt clench around nothing, squeezing tightly and wishing some part of him was filling that void, letting you squeeze around it while he practically makes you come just by putting his lips to your neck. 

“Mhm… yours…” you mumble, lolling your head back in the throes of your pleasure. 

“Taste so good, sweetheart, bet you’re just as sweet everywhere else, too,” Joel says, his tongue flicking along where he’s just sucked harder, testing the waters.

You can only moan quietly, not even daring to think about the other people in the crowded bar who could be witness to your overly raunchy public display. In fact, you find that you barely care, not with the way Joel’s lips feel like heaven every time they touch you, the way he’s making little satisfied noises next to your ear as your body responds to him.

“Joel…” you moan wantonly, starting to go more limp in his hold as he continues teasing you. He slips a hand between your tightly squeezed together thighs, bringing his palm up to cup the outside of your jeans. You know he must feel how warm and damp you are, even through the few layers there - he’s thoroughly teased you to a point where you’re hurting, your cunt aching and pulsing for him, dripping and soaking your panties.

“Christ…” you hear Joel exhale, his breath catching for a moment in his throat. “Fuckin’ soaked for me. Someone needs to get taken care of, doesn’t she?”

You only nod as he palms you harder while he’s speaking, desperate and unable to even find the words. You’re completely undone, trying to come to terms with the fact that Joel is about to ruin any other man for you in just a few short moments together.

“C’mon, then, let’s go,” Joel announces, patting your thigh, urging you to move. You follow him, beckoning you out of your seat with him, grasping your hand as he leads you to the bathroom. Your skin tingles where he holds your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours, and your palms sweat as heat courses through you, settling and pooling deep between your legs. 

You two burst through the door, saying a silent thank you that it’s just a single person restroom at this bar - no stalls, no other people to shoo out of the way. Joel slams the door behind you with built up aggression and you hear the lock click.

He’s on you before you can even register that it’s happening, pressing himself close and wrapping one of his large palms around the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. He pulls your head towards his eagerly, crashing his lips into you, not giving you an inch of space with the way he’s tugging your head closer. 

You both ravenously clash teeth and tongues and lips until you’re practically breathless. One hand bunches on his shirt, clutching him to you, the other wrapped around his neck, burying itself in the dark hair that curls down. Your bodies draw together over and over, starting a steady grind on each other, barely even registering where one body begins and ends as you both chase pleasure using the other's body. 

You moan quietly when you start to feel him against your steadily aching cunt, his erection warm and pressing against his jeans. Your hands shake a little with excitement as you reach in between your bodies to grab him outside the denim, and he groans into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, finally pulling his lips away from yours. He looks down at your swollen, puffy lips, chin red underneath from his scratchy facial hair. He can’t take his eyes off of yours though, so bright and eager for him as your pupils blow out with desire.

“Don’t usually do this either, get random girls into the bathroom with me, swear,” he adds, and you laugh a little against his lips. 

“I’m hearing a lot of that from you tonight,” you tease. 

“Jus’ the effect a girl like you has on me,” he quips back, and you find your cheeks warming and flushing at his words. Despite having just met him not even a few hours ago, you find that you believe him, that you are someone special to him. This strange connection, this pull you feel towards him has you questioning many things, and especially the fact that you’re fully about to fuck someone in a public restroom - something you’d never have imagined yourself doing. 

Until Joel. 

He seems more in control now, leaning forward to pepper your face with kisses, catching the corners of your mouth and pulling away just before you can meet his lips again. You pout as he does it for the third time, moving his lips right underneath to your chin, soothing the irritated skin there from his beard hairs. He finally gives in, kissing you with an open mouth, lapping his tongue sensually against yours, while his hands slip down your back and to your ass. You nearly melt, the intense softness of the way his mouth is moving on yours is starting to make you dizzy. You lean closer for support and Joel catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger as soon as he pulls away from the kiss.

“Get on your knees f’me, hm?” he says, studying your expression to read your reaction to his request.

You only consider it for a moment, the hardness of the floor on your knees, the dirtiness of it all, but your body and mind both tug at you, your knees feeling a buzzing, like they need to go down and touch this cold, unrelenting floor for him. You’d never considered yourself a very dominant person in your past relationships, but you’d also never had anyone trying to dominate you.

Not like this, at least. Not with the tone he’s using, the way he’s looking at you like he knows you’ll do it for him, like he knows you want to listen to him. To be good for him. 

Your knees bend, settling in front of him as you place your hands on his hips. You lick your lips absentmindedly, thinking about them settling around the cock you can see pressing against his pants. You feel a new flood of arousal at the thought, the way you’d never have considered doing something like this in the bathroom of a bar, but you like this side of you that Joel is bringing out. 

“Fuck. Good girl,” he rasps, and you stop, your lips popping open at his words, like something in your brain suddenly clicked into place at what you heard. 

“Can you s-say it again,” you ask quietly, reaching up slowly to his belt.

“What? Like being called a good girl, do you?” Joel’s smile curls into something sinister, and he tucks his fingers under your chin, making sure you’re looking up at him from where you kneel. “Jus’ happens I like to fuck good girls, so you’re in luck.”

You can only remind yourself to breathe as his words flood you, douse you in complete and utter arousal on every inch of your body, leaving you speechless. Your skin practically tingles as you wait for his next move, hands frozen on his belt.

“I’ll be good for you,” you whimper when he releases your chin, your head falling down a bit with the sudden loss of his support. Your hands get back to work, and Joel watches with satisfaction, a hand coming down to stroke the back of your head. You nearly find yourself purring like a cat, feeling a rumble of satisfaction deep inside of yourself at the gesture.

“Mm,” Joel says, his eyes narrowing down at you. “Much as I want your mouth on me, we’ve got our whole lives for you to suck my cock, pretty girl, and tonight… I need to fuck you. Like nothin’ I’ve ever needed before in my life.” 

Before you can even reply his hands tug you up from the floor and you stumble into his arms, caught by the sheer size and strength of his entire body against you. He swings you as you crash into him, pressing you back against the sink counter. His hands expertly unbutton your black, skintight jeans, unzipping them and starting to shimmy them down over your ass, his lips still attached to yours.

“God damn it, makin’ it hard, ain’t you, with these tight little pants…” he murmurs, moving his full attention to pulling down your jeans, finally getting them to your ankles.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t like my jeans?” you ask innocently as you step out of them, and Joel takes in your black lace panties, wetting his lips at the sight. Joel just growls in response, a resounding yes, bumping you so that your ass hits the counter again.

“Up” A simple command, but you’re too lost in the moment, feeling every inch of his body burning into yours, so you hesitate. “Don’t make me ask again,” he snips, and you feel your insides twist, your cunt clench around nothing inside of your soaked panties at his commandeering tone. You stand on your tip toes and let him help hoist you onto the counter. He steps forward between your legs, his face now level with yours and his hips coming flush with you. 

“Look at that… perfect fit,” he comments with a smirk, looking over the way your bodies are coming together, the way his cock will shortly have the perfect angle to slide into your tight hole. 

You give him a little giggle. “Perfect…” you echo, smiling as you look between your legs and then back up to his face. 

Joel’s thumbs dig under the waistband of your panties, starting to pull them down with the help of you lifting your hips. He holds them up, inspecting the slick, shiny stain you’d left, taking up most of the underwear. He simply shakes his head, fingering the wetness and smirking before balling it up and stuffing it into the back pocket of his jeans. 

Amused, you smile dazedly at him and reach out to grab at his arms, pulling him closer. Your fingers dig into his muscled biceps and you bite your lip at how absolutely fucking hot it feels. 

“Look at that little pussy, doll, so pretty, ain’t it. Gonna be all mine,” Joel says, peering in between your legs as he works on his belt and zipper. When his cock springs free from his jeans you try to hold back your stunned gasp, but Joel notices it, the way your eyes widen as you breathe in sharply. He’s not just big, he’s thick, and while you have some experience, this is certainly new and uncharted territory for you. 

“Hey,” Joel says, pulling you back to reality as he puts both hands on the sides of your face. “I know, but we can go slow if you need. Won’t be upset.”

You’re reeling with so many different thoughts - the rational part of your brain wanting to take Joel up on that offer, but the absolutely batshit crazy for him part of your brain doesn’t care one bit, only wanting him to take you, make you his. 

You slowly shake your head, meeting his stare from under your brows. “Don’t…” You wet your lips, pouting them out for him. “Go slow. Fuck me like you mean it, like I know you want to.”

Joel completely breaks, shaking his head and his expression twists into something completely feral, part of him gone to that other side of him, the one you know that needs you just as badly as you need him. 

“So fuckin’ obedient. Such a good girl.” You clench at his words, finding your body practically has an involuntary response to hearing his praise, drunk on it and desperate for more. He smirks, pressing himself close, both hands snaking around to the globes of your ass as they sit on the counter and squeezing. He delivers a swift slap to one of them before tugging hard, bringing you flush with his cock now resting at your entrance. You moan and gasp with the pain and pleasure of his palm smacking your flesh but give him a needy look as encouragement. 

“Gonna take me like the dirty little slut you are, lettin’ me fuck you in this bathroom,” Joel growls out as he presses forward, the head of his cock bursting into your entrance with one swift push of his hips. You whimper and nod to answer him, completely distracted now. 

You can feel yourself clench all over, just the thickness of his head is overwhelming, but he doesn’t stop, just slides into you inch by inch and you swallow hard and try not to tremble too much. You feel his head kissing deep inside of you, and your mind is swimming, wondering how you’re even taking so much of him right now. 

“Good girl, that’s right, take it so good…” Joel mumbles, his eyes hazy and dreamy as he feels you tighten and contract around him. He gently kneads where he’s holding onto your ass to try to soothe you. 

Your hold on his shoulders reaches a death grip as he starts to move inside of you, slowly at first. You find yourself appreciating that despite telling him to fuck you hard, he’s still being careful at first just in case. You buck your hips forward, pressing him just the tiniest bit deeper. Joel hums a little and chuckles at your insistence. 

“That eager, are you?”

“I told you to fuck me like you want to,” you snip back, rolling your hips into his again.

Joel leans forward to bury his face against your neck, sighing. “Gotta stop sayin’ that, darlin’, makin’ me crazy.” 

His lips flit down to your chest, where your low cut tank top is askew now, tits half falling out. He palms one of them before pulling your shirt down so that they’re both spilling out. 

“Don’t keep these pretty things from me, wanna watch ‘em when I fuck you,” he says, and you smirk, seeing how worked up Joel already is over you. It makes you feel so good, so desired, so unlike any other man you’ve been with before. 

He slides his cock into you a little faster, picking up speed with each thrust until you’re sure you can’t take it anymore. You know your face is contorted into a mixture of pleasure and pain, unsure how your body is even accommodating his girth right now, feeling like you’re being split open, your insides completely full of him. 

“My god, oh my god,” you mumble breathily, your brows knit in a concentrated look, trying to focus on the pleasure rather than the pain. 

“Thas’ it, babydoll, you got this, focus on me,” Joel encourages you, and you try to relax your body, feeling yourself finally adjusting more to his size. “Good girl, take it so good, yeah.”

He looks down to where your bodies meet with a satisfied smile, seeing you stretch over and over as you take his cock repeatedly. He’s starting to hit a heavenly pace now that your body is molding to his, taking him like you were made for it as he starts to jackhammer into you. You moan his name quietly under your breath, holding back as you hear the drone of the muffled music outside the bathroom, reminding you that you’re in a public space.

“Feels good, don’t it?” Joel grunts out as he, “Be a good girl and be loud f’me. I can see you holdin’ back.”

“Feels so good… so big, Joel,” you moan out a little louder,

“Thas’ right, baby, my big cock fits perfectly in this tight little cunt, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, yes,” you nod eagerly, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, anchoring yourself to him while he pounds into you. You’re deliriously accepting all of it through the pain, the kind that’s nearly addicting because your body knows it’s good. You respond heartily to him, squelching, pornographic sounds reverberating in the bathroom as he pumps his length in and out of you.

“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ eager, so fuckin’ wet… c’mere,” Joel says suddenly, pulling out of you and yanking you by the hips off the counter where you land on shaky feet. He spins you and thrusts you against the counter, fumbling slightly as he grabs at your ass cheeks and spreads them apart. One hand slams onto your back as his cock slides between your legs and splits you open again, the sting of the stretch coming right back to you for a moment as you gasp. He pushes down, laying you flat onto the cold countertop, your bare tits pressed against it. 

“Up a little, let me see those perfect tits, honey,” Joel says, a hand going to your hair to yank on it, making you arch your back enough to get your chest off of the linoleum. “That’s right, there we go, so fuckin’ pretty,” Joel says, keeping his hand buried in your scalp, your locks gripped tightly in his palm to continue keeping you right where he wants you. You feel your tits bouncing like he wanted, your nipples grazing against the countertop each time he thrusts you forward. The sensitive buds send wave after wave of arousal through you each time they contact the cool surface, and as he lifts your hips slightly you nearly choke as he hits something deep and pleasurable inside of you.

“Oh… oh… n-no it’s too much…” you mumble, feeling like your eyes could start to cross every time you feel him pressing near this part of you, so you flutter them shut.

“Uh-uh. Eyes open, wanna see you lookin’ in this mirror at how pretty y’look right now.” Joel yanks tenderly on your hair, not as hard this time, keeping your attention. You pop your eyes open, and look at yourself, heavy lidded, cloudy, hardly recognizing yourself or anything around you. Only able to feel the way Joel is impaling you with the strangest, most intense, pleasurable feeling you’ve ever had inside of yourself.

“Wh- wh- it feels so - o-oh my god, I c-can’t,” you cry out at the tail end of your sentence as Joel jolts his hips harder, flesh slapping against flesh repeatedly.

“S’okay, you’re takin’ it so good, doll, that’s jus’ your g-spot, baby, don’t worry,” Joel says soothingly, switching over to a protective mode for a moment when he can see the worry flash in your eyes.

Your mouth falls open and you let out a languid, fraught moan as he tilts your hips a little more, catching the spot on a new angle. If you were being honest, you’d never stimulated your g-spot before - not by yourself, and certainly not with any other men, and now you were wondering how you’d lived without doing it for so long. It felt like the sweetest build up of pleasure, filling a hole deep inside of yourself with warmth, starting to tingle all the way through your body to the tips of your limbs.

“Fuck… don’t stop, don’t stop, please,” you cry out, feeling your knees shake, supported by Joel as he presses against you and keeps a tight hold on your hips. “I’m - shit - I’m coming, Joel. Harder, please.”

“So,” Joel spits out with a thrust. “Fuckin.” Thrust. “Polite.” Thrust. “Pretty girl.” He ups his pace even more, something you weren’t sure was possible and you’re bouncing forward, the edge of the counter digging into your torso and head nearing the mirror as he gives you his all. 

You explode, a scream of his name clawing out of your throat when the pressure snaps suddenly, sending you practically convulsing, limbs taut and shaking as you clench in spasms around him.

“Babygirl, she feels so tight, squeezin’ me like that,” Joel murmurs in a wavering voice, continuing his unrelenting pace. He wraps his hands underneath where you lean against the counter, cupping your tits and pulling you up as he leans down to meet your body - flesh against flesh, the sweat forming on your back soaking into his soft flannel shirt. You can feel the damp warmth of the fabric, like he’s been sweating through it this entire time, and it smells earthy and like sex already. You feel your orgasm reach a peak at the thought of leaving your scent on him tonight.

“J-joel, come inside me, fuck,” you cry out, meeting his gaze in the mirror with a heady look. For once, Joel follows a command instead of giving one, grunting with a final push of his hips, shooting his spend deep inside of you. 

“D-dirty little cumslut, wantin’ me to fill you up, make you mine, mmm” Joel says with a groan, his hips bouncing a few more times while he rides down his high. 

You can only nod, feeling fully fucked out and limp while he finishes using your spent cunt. You know it’s risky, that you should have thought more before tossing the idea of a condom aside in your mind, before asking a virtual stranger to pump his seed into you, but you truly don’t care. You only care about Joel, about giving to him what you knew he wanted. He didn’t even have to say it, but the way he fucked you, so rough and unrelenting, he wanted this, wanted to mark you in some way that would stick with you long after he pulls out. He wanted you to go home, find his cum leaking out of you onto your legs for the rest of the evening, be reminded of what he gave to you, how he ruined you.

You both stand in place, breathing heavily until Joel makes the first move, pulling himself out and tucking his cock back into his jeans. You feel raw, achy in the best way, and Joel notices your hesitation to move and wraps an arm around the front of you, bringing his lips to your ear.

“Good girl,” he whispers, biting the lobe and you shudder. “Good fuckin’ girl, y’know that? God…”

“I like being a good girl for you, Joel,” you say lazily, shutting your eyes as you lean back into him.

“Music to my ears, sweetheart. Now let's get you outta here, it’s late and you need some rest.”

Joel leads you out of the bathroom after you both adjust yourselves back to some semblance of normal, a hand on the small of your back as you enter the loud bar, seemingly much less crowded now than when you’d entered the bathroom. 

You see your friends, still grouped together but with a few more young, attractive men in the mix, crowded around a tiny table. Your friend Georgia spots you, waving you over with a slightly tired, exasperated look on her face. She’s the assigned designated driver for the night, and you can see that she’s more than ready to start heading out. You peek at the time on your phone and it’s after one in the morning.

“Come on,” she mouths, beckoning you dramatically and you can see your friends gathering up their things, saying their goodbyes to their new male counterparts.

You turn to Joel with an anxious look, and he grasps one of your hands, squeezing tightly.

“Go on, then,” he says softly, “Don’t keep them waitin’.”

You nod with a disappointed smile, wondering if you should have offered to go home with him instead. But the fact that he didn’t ask has already gotten in your head, so you lean forward to kiss him goodbye instead. He gives you a hungry kiss, one you could easily fall right back into, drag him to the bathroom again and let him do everything he just did all over again. 

He lets you go, nearly pushing you away with a small growl. You hurry over to your friends, who are shoving your purse and jacket back into your arms and ushering you away. You sneak one last glance back at Joel, standing with his hands in his pockets, wondering how your life could ever be the same after tonight.

You’re in a complete panic, only minutes from your house, tears brimming in your eyes.

“Please, Georgia, we have to go back, we have to - I don’t,” you feel around your bag for something that isn’t there, that you know isn’t there. A scrap of paper, a note, anything.

“Babe, you need to calm down and tell me what’s going on,” she replies, cool and collected as usual.

“Th- the guy. The one I was with. I didn’t get his phone number. Fuck, I don’t even know his last name. I -” A small sob escapes you, and you don’t know where all this emotion is coming from all of a sudden. It’s like when you’d been with Joel, you felt so calm, so even, and you hadn’t even had a chance to think about your emotional investment in what happened tonight. 

“Shit. And you think he would have wanted you to have it?” Georgia asks.

You blink, looking over at her, stunned that you hadn’t even thought of whether he wanted to see you again or not. You two hadn’t had a chance to discuss it before you’d been dragged out of the bar, but you’d gotten the sense he was intoxicated by you just as you were him. 

“I - think so? It seemed like maybe he would have. But now I’ll probably -” your voice cracks and shakes a little bit. “Never see him again.”

Georgia squeezes your shoulder softly, rubbing circles on it. “I’m sorry, honey. It’s going to be okay though, alright? You never know, the world has weird ways of working things out sometimes.”

You sigh, knowing the chances of that are slim, seeing as nothing that spectacular has ever happened to you before, and you don’t see why the universe would start now. “What if he’s still there, though? We could go back, please…”

“The bar closed twenty minutes ago, you know he’s not there anymore. I’m sorry,” she replies, giving your shoulder a final squeeze before putting both hands on the steering wheel and pulling up in front of your apartment. The last thing you want is to go up to your cramped space, shared with two roommates, nothing feeling truly yours. You want to scour the streets, walk around Austin until you find Joel again, until you can throw yourself in his arms and know you’re going to see him again and again and again. You can’t believe it took you losing him to realize just how much of a hold he has on you after those few short hours spent together.

You hug Georgia a teary goodbye and trudge up to your apartment, each step feeling heavy and painful, until you reach your bed and lay down, crying until you finally find it in you to get up and get ready for sleep.

You’ll be okay, just like Georgia said. You’re still drunk, and that’s it, that’s why you’re so emotional right now. Tomorrow you’ll just be happy you had incredible sex and can move on with your life. Surely, that’s exactly how it will go.

In the morning, you find the pit in your stomach hasn’t dissipated in the least, flashes of memories from last night torturing you as you try to function the next morning. You could barely sleep last night, the few drinks you had not even able to lull you into any kind of rest. You pace your room, thinking hard with a hot mug of coffee clutched between your hands.

You know now that you have to see him again, talk to him again, even if just to confirm whether or not it’s what he wants to do. Then you could have something definitive - closure, or a new, budding relationship with the man who absolutely fucking ruined you.

You stop dead in your tracks as an idea hits you, one that could potentially lead you back to Joel. Your heart pounds anxiously as you pray that the idea works, that there’s something there, not just delusional, hopeless hoping. You rush over to your phone and quickly dial Georgia’s number.

“Georgia!” you call out a bit too loudly, barely able to hear yourself over the rushing in your ears. “Hey,” you say more timidly.

She groans sleepily on the other end of the line, and it’s not until then that realize you’re up way too early for how late all of you stayed out last night. 

“Shit, s-sorry, I know it’s early, but…”

“What, babe? What could possibly be this important?” she groans into the phone teasingly, and you feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment and shame that you woke her for something as silly as this, but you’re a woman possessed, on a mission to find Joel.

“I know, I know. I just couldn’t sleep. I feel like… he’s the one, or something. The guy from the bar. The connection was so crazy, and the sex, and I’m rambling now, god, sorry.” You take a breath, steadying your nerves. “My point is, you were sober last night. Joel said he was there with his work crew, so did you see anything? Any shirts or trucks or anything with a logo or a name for a construction type crew? Please,” you say, murmuring the last, begging word more to yourself or whatever higher power is in control of your current predicament.

You can hear the rustling of Georgia’s sheets on the other end and another sleepy sigh. “Let me think on it, okay? When I can wake up some more. I promise I’ll text you about it later.”

You two end the call and you start pacing again, your heart thundering in your chest, knowing every minute is going to be agony waiting to see what Georgia ends up texting you. The day drags on, hour by hour a wasted mess of a day, with your nerves too frayed to concentrate on much of anything - homework, studying, TV - none of it helps to distract you enough.

When your phone pings that afternoon you pounce on it, flopping down onto your bed with shaky hands, opening the notification from Georgia.

Miller Contracting.

Two words and you’re off to google after shooting her a thank you text with as many exclamation marks as you could slam out in the few seconds you wanted to spare before moving on in your search.

You find his business immediately, their shoddy little website that’s clearly was not made by any professional. It kind of makes you chuckle to think of Joel trying to make a website. The page features an uncomfortable looking photo of Joel and another man, who you can only assume is the brother he said he owns the business with. You immediately smile looking into his eyes, his hair looking a little more cropped and coiffed in this photo than it had last night. Underneath it, their phone number is listed, and your eyes widen, mouth going desert dry as you punch it into your phone. 

You hesitate, your finger hovering over the send button, needing to be sure of what you’re even going to say. What if he doesn’t answer, or it’s his brother, or they even have a secretary or something? Your mind spins but you force yourself to dial the call, anyways, driven forward by an unseen force that you’re quietly grateful for as the line trills in your ear.

Ring. Steady breath. Ring. Another. Ring.

taglist: @aphterthoughtt@bbyanarchist@amy172@hazzaismyreligion @ohheypedrito@msmorningstaarr@kamcrazy123@madhere@huffle-punk@jupiter-soups

[lostintransist]

Tomorrows From Before | Part 1

Reader's callsign is Lynx, used in place of name.

CW: Violence, that's all this chapter.

AO3

The only nice thing about being pulled up into the 141 had to be the single room. Not having a roommate would let you put up with a lot. The lot that you put up with now would send a lesser soldier to the nuthouse.

You had stumbled over so many odd dynamics in the team. Meeting Price had gone well. He wasn’t terribly old and while he felt like an overworked father, you were grateful to have someone you could solidly place your trust in. Your last leader had been a nepo baby, and while he kept his job your partner had been KIA due to his leadership choices.

Roach scared the shit out of you. He stared. He didn’t try to talk to you, just stared. It got a bit easier when he offered you a controller and then promptly kicked your ass at Mario Party, but he still scared you. Gaz was nice enough, if a bit cool and reserved. Ghost and Soap had to be lovers. You would bet your challenge coin collection on it.

Something about the way the two of them either circled each other like planets locked in orbit or touched in the slightest hint of ways is how you clocked it. You couldn’t decide if no one else knew or if they didn’t care. Fraternization rules be damned you guess. You weren’t in charge of them and wouldn’t take the heat for them getting caught.

Price had everyone running drills today. These drills were different than what you were used to. Each member of the team had to pair up with one other member, run the course, then run it again with a different member. You figured you were the reason for these drills. These guys had several missions under their belts of working together. As the outlier Captain Price wanted to reduce the friction of newness between you and everyone else. It was a good plan.

It would have been a good plan. Should have been. It all fell to shit on your first run.

The 141 had been running the drill alongside the 261, an airborne as opposed to ground crew like them. Should have been fine. They should have stepped up when the fight started when you got dragged into it for daring to visibly exist in a fem-shaped body.

A sergeant with a little man complex and little man syndrome caught you by the braid as you cleared the last room with Gaz. Your boot to the inside of his knee and a backhand across his face shocked him enough that you slipped through the door to freedom. Sergeant barreled after you, catching you under the arm with a shoulder and tossing you a few feet away.

You landed funny, one knee down and one up. The seconds it took you to right had him right on top of you. This is where your teammates should have stepped in. Where they failed you the first time. Right hook to the face split your lip and sent you directly into the open palm that caught you in the ear.

A pain unlike any you had ever experienced knifed through your ear. Disoriented you returned the blows.

Punch, he batted it away. Good that let you step in. Body shot followed by an uppercut to his chin. His teeth snapped together in a satisfying click that you hoped would leave a mark.

Nailing him between the legs with his eyes on the sky he drops to his knees before you.

“That is enough!” Someone yelled. You think it is from the left of you.

Your eardrum has to be ruptured. No tension on the thin skin meant a lack of pinpoint hearing. Stepping back you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand.

Stringy, bloody, spittle coats your wrist to knuckle.

A man you’ve never seen starts yelling in your face.

“What company are you?”

“141.”

“Price’s?”

You nod once sharply.

“I’ll leave him to deal with your punishment for this altercation.”

He rounds on the sergeant still holding his jewels, must be his captain from the dressing down.

Stepping away from the verbal lashing you end up standing in front of the team, scanning for Price.

“You uh,” Soap is speaking to you. “You got something here.”

He points to the side of his neck just below the earlobe.

Fuck. You must be bleeding.

“Sorry? What was that? I COULDN’T HEAR YOU PAST MY BLOWN-OUT EARDRUM!”

No one says anything. They all stare, stone sentries.

“That’s what I thought fuckers.”

You spit the blood that had collected in your mouth and on your tongue on the dirt between your boots and theirs.

“Tell Price I’ve gone to medical and will report at his office in one hour for my punishment.”

“Yep, that’s ruptured.”

The nurse practitioner pulled the otoscope back and her face with it. Stepping around the elevated table you sit on she checks your other ear.

“I felt the membrane tear, I know it’s ruptured. What do I do for it?” You sit still as the plastic piece tickles the inside of your ear.

“Pretty easy actually,” she tossed the cap into the garbage and hung the light back on the wall. “Don’t get any water in it, so showers only, no diving for the next four to six weeks. If you have any leakage or pain come back and we will check for an infection.”

Sliding on the backless wheeled stool the nurse pulls out her notepad, writing down your excuse note for Captain Price. Ripping off the single small page she hands it to you.

“Oh, and if you have to sneeze? Open your mouth.”

Taking the square with a nod you hop off the table.

“Cut them some slack, if you can.”

Glancing down at the nurse she answers the question in your face.

“They nearly lost everyone the entire 141 in the past few months to an American General and an American contractor. Brass threw an accomplished American into the lion’s den to see if they were still tamable.”

The indifference, coolness, and even hostility all made sense now.

You stalk out of the room and out of the clinic without a word to anyone. Everyone who passes you glances from your lip to the dark look in your eyes and shifts from your path. The twenty-minute walk to Price’s office is not enough to cool your rage.

Standing at the solid door you knock, and wait. Twenty seconds pass before the door opens. Ghost, Soap, Roach, and Gaz all trailed out of the office. None of them looked at you, their eyes trained on the floor. You focus on the narrow gaps their bodies allow to see Price staring daggers after them. Once Gaz leaves the door frame you step in and shut the door.

The buzzy overhead lights had been turned off, a few small lamps lit the space instead.

“Thanks for coming by. Sit,” Price gestures to the standard-issue chairs in front of his desk.

You settle in, placing the nurse’s note in the center of his desk. Leaning back you watch him, this British captain. You thought about what had been shared with you. Were you a lamb for the slaughter?

Waiting him out seemed the right choice. It went against the hostage negotiation training you had in the past but if you were the hostage nothing you said would release you from this situation.

Price sighed deeply, tapped the note twice, and looked up at you.

“Tell me what happened.”

So you do, everything you remember up to and including your line in the sand, or rather blood in the dirt, with the guys.

“Sir, I was informed in medical today that I am the canary in the coal shaft. Would you agree that is my role on this team?”

He filled his lungs slowly, ribs expanding and retracting.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

This question seemed to stump him. He leaned back in his chair, fully extending the stretch of the chair. Crossing his arms across his chest he looks at you.

Silence lingers.

“Brass only sees value in the 141 as a joint team. If we can’t prove that we can work with outsiders again then we will be disbanded. The men now know the reality of the situation and I imagine that by the time their laps are done, they will have a plan to make it look like they have accepted you.”

“Are you telling me not to trust them?” Apprehension walked your spine, a spider on a thread of silk.

“I am telling you to be watchful, be careful. You were chosen for your stellar record and for your various training dealing with difficult personalities. They will grow to trust you; Brass wants to make sure you can live long enough to see that flower blossom.”

“And if I refuse to sing for a paycheck?” You lean forward, elbow settling on your knees.

“Then we handle whatever Brass decides. If you don’t want this challenge no one will think less of you for it.” Captain searches your face, no expression passing through his.

Blowing a breath out of your nose you stand.

“If it becomes too much I will inform you. Now about my punishment?”

Sitting upright Price waves a hand as if dismissing cigar smoke.

“I will write up something that will pass muster but I am not adding insult to injury. You did the right thing. The guys are running laps as punishment for not stepping in to save a teammate, even if she didn’t need it.”

He must have caught your mouth opening in defense.

“You are dismissed, Lynx.”

Huffing a breath you leave Price’s office much the same way the guys did, mad.

Shout out to @bernardsbendystraws for the super cute divider!

Masterlist

[nolita-fairytale]

don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: the honeymoon pt. 1

summary: the infinite undressing and undoing of mrs. berzatto -- or how you and carmy spend your mini-moon at the langham hotel.

warnings: so much smut so this chapter is 18+ only!! also the smut is from carmys pov and im shaking!! husband!carmy who comes with a warning label of his own, swearing, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 4.9k

listen to: the official don't want to walk alone playlist

a/n: surprise! i decided to split the honeymoon into two chapters because it was getting way too long and i refuse to cut any of it so there's that.

on another note: this series, this world, is so special to me because it is my first: first series on tumblr, first series for carmy, first time writing fanfic again as an adult that i actually followed through with. it was the universe that got me through unemployment. the fic that helped me fall in love with writing again, so i will always hold this world near and dear to my heart. but aside from occasional one shots here and there, it may be time to let them ride off into the sunset, into their happily ever after. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part three | masterlist | part five

Before he can even get the door properly closed, you’re all over him, your mouth covering his own with kisses that feel like promises, as your hands multi-task, fumbling with the door to get in closed the rest of the way. 

“As much as I loved celebrating with our friends and family, I’ve been waiting for this moment all damn day,” you say, in between kisses, satisfied as soon as you hear the clicking sound of the door locking. 

“Hmmm and what’s that?” Carmy asks you, coyly. 

His lips curve into a cocky smile mid-kiss, and he hears you chuckle, knowing exactly what buttons to push to wind you up.

“Getting you alone, Mr. Berzatto,” you giggle underneath your breath, taking a few steps away from him. 

Carmy watches you in awe, his eyes traveling from your kiss-swollen lips, to the way your hands begin to trail down your body, to the careful steps that you take backwards. His breath hitches in his throat as he watches your fingers delicately undo the first button on this goddamn blazer dress he thinks he’ll never be able to get out of his mind – not after tonight, that’s for sure. He watches them dance over the second button from the top down, peeling it open, as a bright pop of red begins to peek out from underneath your dress. 

“Carm?” you ask him, your eyes flickering down to your hands as you undo the third button, then the fourth, before returning your heated gaze to him. 

“Yes, baby,” is all he can reply, as if he’s under your spell already. 

Carmy gulps, his pants feeling incredibly tight, the air noticeably thick as he watches your little strip tease. 

It’s just a few more buttons before your dress falls open, revealing the crimson red set you’re wearing underneath. 

Red Floral Lace. Mesh. See-through. 

“Come get me,” you beckon, as you let the dress fall to the floor. 

“Fuck,” he growls on an exhale, before charging towards you. 

It’s all hot, all-consuming kisses as he pushes you back onto the California king-sized bed, eagerly following as he lays his body on top of yours. Long gone is the sport coat he was wearing earlier, and he thanks whatever deities he may owe this to that he really only has to get three articles of clothing off. 

Carmy pulls away, because he’s gotta get one goddamn good look at his wife. 

His wife. 

His breath picks up, as he drags his fingertips over the straps of your red lace bra, down to the mesh cups, watching your face twist in pleasure as his fingers run over your already-perky nipples. 

“You like?” you ask him, a small amount of vulnerability in your voice as you do. 

“Do I-, baby, have you seen yourself?” he stammers, in disbelief that you could even ask, only to be met with a smirk because you know you look good. 

But that’s not what you’re asking. You want to know if Carmy likes it, because you have much more where this came from – lingerie, you mean. And instead of telling you, Carmy has bigger and better plans to show you instead. He begins to leave hot, open mouthed kisses along your neck, across your chest, nipping at the top of the bra cup with his teeth when he gets there. 

Carmy’s eyes move to yours, watching you for a reaction so he knows that he’s giving you exactly what you want. To his delight, you hiss in pleasure, arching your back as an invitation, offering your body to him in a silent effort, begging for more. 

“This why you put on this dress?” he rasps, in reference to the fact that you had insisted on doing an outfit change from the courthouse to the reception. His tongue snakes out, running over the mesh fabric that barely covers the nipple of your left breast. 

You moan, letting out a small giggle in between breaths, as you cook up a witty reply.

“‘S not like I could wear anything underneath my wedding dress. Had to come up with a plan B,” you counter him, just another part of your seduction. 

Carmy lets out a well earned-groan and it’s music to your ears as he continues to move down your body, worshiping you with his mouth, his tongue, muttering to himself that he’s not sure whether he would’ve preferred that – you in your wedding dress, nothing underneath – or this, all fire and lace. 

But he doesn’t have time to think, settling on the fact that as long as he gets to have you, he’s not sure he cares. 

“This is so fucking sexy, baby,” he groans, shaking his head in disbelief as he sits up on his knees, taking you in. He almost forgets to breathe for a moment, as it dawns on him that you’re his, and that you’re here, all spread out for him tonight, aching for him and only him. 

Before you can get in a word, he’s pushing your legs apart, settling down in between them to get exactly what he wants. You let out a gasp of surprise, considering he hasn’t taken off our panties, your eyes fluttering shut as he pulls them to one side instead. 

“Fuck,” he hears you whine, as he buries his face between your thighs. “Oh my god, Carmy.” 

His favorite thing.

Tasting you. Bringing you the kind of euphoric pleasure that makes you feel high.

 He loves the way you say his name, and how it changes, when his tongue traces tight circles around your clit; how it changes when he flattens his tongue up against your wet heat, painting broad strokes; how you cry out when he’s busy tracing abstract shapes across you till you’re completely lost in your own pleasure. Carmy moans against you, as he feels you thread your hands through his golden locks, and the sensation of your fingertips running along his scalp goes straight to his cock. 

“Carmy, don’t stop!” 

And how could he? How could he deny you the one thing you’re asking for? His mouth on you, bringing you higher and higher, winding up that coil buried so deep inside you that it has to explode, knowing that it’s him and only him that makes you feel this way. 

You’re pulling at his hair, grabbing at the bedsheets, bucking your hips up into his mouth, writhing underneath the weight of his hands that hold you in place. He can’t keep his hands off of you, desperate to feel the way your body responds to him at every touch – holding your hips down, pressing your legs wider, grabbing at your breasts as he dips his tongue inside of you. 

“Oh my God. Carmy, fuck. Don’tstoppleasedon’tstopdon’tyoudare-!” 

The feeling of your orgasm ripping through you completely rendering you speechless as you come. Carmy slows down the movements of his mouth, working you through your orgasm, wanting you to know that he’s here for you, that he’s got you as you come down. He uses his tongue to clean you up, watching you carefully as you try your best to catch your breath, committing this image to his memory. 

There are two places he feels like this – triumphant, untouchable, on top of the world – in the last push of a hard won dinner service, and when he’s right here, between your legs, in the falling action of your climax as he waits for you to come back to him. 

Carmy waits for you, watches as your eyes begin to flutter open, your breath still heavy, as you look down on him. 

“Shit. Who knew married sex would hit so differently,” you pant, let out an incredulous laugh from how hard you just came. 

Carmy grins up at you, and he loves the way it feels as you pull him towards you once more. Your hands are desperate, needy, impatient as they tear through the buttons on his shirt, practically dragging the top over his head and tossing it onto the floor with a vigor he knows only comes from how much you need him. 

“You good, baby?” he asks, cockily, because after years of this, he thinks he’s earned the right to know just how good he always makes you feel. 

“Just need you, Carm,” you rasp, propping yourself up so that you can chase his mouth with yours. “Need you so much. Need you inside of me.” 

“I know, sweet girl. I-,” he begins to say, before freezing, as if there’s an alarm going off in his head, his voice full this time as he swears, as if he’s just forgotten a really important date:

“Ffffffffffffffffuck.”

“Everything okay?” you ask, sitting up this time in response to his sobering pitch.

Carmy can feel the heat rise to his cheeks as he flushes red, completely embarrassed that he’s put the heat of the moment on pause for this, knowing fully that he won’t be able to stop thinking about it now. 

“Yeah just I just gotta-... give me like… five seconds. I promise,” he nods, though his eyes silently plead with you. 

You shake your head as Carmy leaves you, his footsteps rapid and hurried as he practically sprints over to where you left the suitcases in the hallway. He swears underneath his breath, rummaging through his bag before finding a certain plastic tupperware, a feeling of relief washing over him. He can hear you laugh as he runs through the room, tucking it safely in the mini fridge, and he can only imagine that it’s quite the sight to see.

By the time he returns to the bed, cheeks flushed, and an apologetic look in his eyes, you’re sitting up on your knees, waiting for him with an amused look on your face. 

“Do I want to know?” you ask, skeptically.

“You’ll thank me later,” he chuckles, still embarrassed. Shyly, as he steps towards the edge of the bed, he works up the nerve to ask, “Will you uh.. Think we can pick up where we left off?”

Still stunning as you were moments ago but now with that post-orgasm glow, you wrap your arms around Carmy’s neck, pulling him in closer so that he’s standing across from where you kneel. 

“You can come back to bed. But lose the pants, jerk,” you reply, feigning disapproval. 

He nods, eagerly taking off his pants as he joins you back on the bed in only his briefs. 

Carmy’s intent on making it up to you, his mouth back on yours as soon as possible, lowering you to the bed as his hands grope at any exposed flesh he can. He’s dragging the straps of the red bra down, but refuses to take it off completely. Keep it on, he insists, because he can’t get the image of you riding him in it out of his mind. It’s not till he’s tearing your panties down your legs, tossing them somewhere on the floor that you know he really means business this time. 

“No more interruptions,” he promises you, as he settles in between your legs, his briefs long gone and his hard, aching cock desperate to feel you. 

As Carmy presses into you, reeling over the fact that every time feels like the first – it’s that glorious, that wondrous – you know, without all the trauma of your actual first time. You’re all tight, wet, heat pulsing around him and for once, he doesn’t have to think for a moment. 

Carmy’s always been a thinker – an overthinker, really, calculating each and every move with strategy – rarely ever a doer because that’s just not who he got to be. But with you, inside of you, it’s all instinct, and breath, and I love yous, both in pursuit of your shared pleasure. In these moments, he gets to be a doer, responding to your every moan, taking the lead when he knows what will set you off, showing you just how much you turn him on with every kiss, every touch, every thrust. 

It doesn’t take long for you to push him onto his back, reminding him that he has some making up to do for the earlier coitus interuptus and that he should let you fuck him instead.

But as you climb on top of him, turning around so that your back is to him, he swallows, admiring the view you’re so intent on giving him. He can picture it clearly, exactly – your head thrown back, biting down on your bottom lip, brow furrowed as you sink down onto him – even though he can’t see your face. 

Instead, he listens to the way you whimper his name as you begin to move your hips, traces the curves of your body as you settle into a satisfying rhythm, digs the pads of his fingers into your hips and your ass because he just can’t not touch. 

It’s music to his ears as you let out a keen-like moan when he begins to meet your hips with thrusts of his own, speeding up the perfect rhythm you’ve set. He can feel you squeezing around him, chasing your own high as you fuck yourself on him, and he can feel that familiar tightening at the bottom of his belly. 

“Fuck,” he grits out, his jaw tightening as he can feel it coming. 

All it would take was a few more thrusts, a vigorous pace, take hold of your hips and showing you just how he wants it. But instead, Carmy sits half way up, reaching out for you as he stills your hips against his. His movement causes you to shift as you realize he’s sitting all the way up, wrapping an arm around your waist, the new angle causing you to squeeze around him.

“Baby,” you whine, beginning to grind your hips in circles where you’re connected.

“I wanna see you. I wanna see you cum again,” he requests, his voice tender yet intent, as if he plans on embedding the words into your skin. And as he leaves little kisses against your shoulder blade, his words go straight to your heart. 

“Okay,” you agree with a soft whisper. 

Carmy sits back just enough to let you switch positions, before propping himself up on both hands that rest behind him. With the softest smile he thinks he’s ever seen, you climb back onto his lap. Grabbing the back of your head, he pulls you to him, kissing you like he wants to give you the world and then some. Your hands smooth over his strong shoulders and inked arms, then you’re reaching down between the two of you, guiding him back into you as you take him once more. 

He swears his eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels you again, beginning to move your hips in perfect harmony together. This new position is passionate, intense, intimate. Your hands are cradling the back of his head, kissing him like he is oxygen, as he surrenders to you, to the moment, to the dance between you.

“I like this,” Carmy finally says, as he notices the way the straps of your bra hang loosely off your shoulders. 

“Me on top of you?” you smile, devilishly. 

“This,” he repeats, his eyes hungrily taking in the image of you on top of him in this sexy lace little thing, as he toys with the red elastic. “But that too.”

You grin before pressing your lips against his once more, because he truly has no idea what else you have in store for him. 

“Feel so good, sweet girl,” Carmy grunts out, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder, sloppier as the feeling returns. “You feel so good.” 

You throw your head back in a moan, and he knows you’re letting him set the pace. He’s so goddamn close to cumming, as the two of you chase both of your highs this time. 

“I love you, Carmy,” he hears you whine, your head leaning against his shoulder. “So much. I love you, baby.”

He can feel it – feel you – and he knows you’re close. 

“I love you,” he manages to get out, in between a clenched jaw. 

His hips stutter, and you’re tightening around him, losing all control, surrendering to your release as you cry out. Watching you come undone around him, feeling you contract and release around him, calling out his name till your voice is hoarse is what brings him there with you. Carmy continues to fuck up into you, filling you, as his hands begin to slow down the pace of your hips.

You’re magic to him – somehow just as and more electrifying as the day he met you, the day you told him you loved him, and today, the day you both said, “I do.” 

“I think you’re right,” is what he says, in between pants, finally breaking the tension. “Married sex is a whole ‘nother level.”

“Cheers, Mrs. Berzatto,” Carmy toasts to you. 

“And a cheers to you too, Mr. Berzatto,” you reply, clinking your champagne flute with his before drinking. 

After coming back to reality – recovering from your joint discovery of just how damn good married sex is – you and Carmy spent a few more precious moments in each others’ arms, sharing languid kisses and whispered words. And after cleaning up, you both came to an agreement that if this weekend is anything like how it started, you will absolutely be in need of fuel – Carmy encouraging you to order a few things for room service off the hotel’s late night menu. 

So here you are, drinking clinking glasses of fancy champagne over overpriced burgers and truffle fries, as you begin a new journey with your husband, thinking to yourself that there’s no other way you’d want this to be. Wrapped up in his Ralph Lauren Oxford shirt that you’d gleefully pulled out of his suitcase after your quick rinse off in the shower, Carmy’s got one of those looks of deep admiration in his eyes while he listens to you you wax philosophical about something or other. 

It’s not that he’s not listening – it’s just that he cannot get over the fact that you made it here – something his twenty-five year old self probably never would’ve believed. 

“Any chance you’re still hungry?” Carmy asks, a hopeful look in his eyes as he watches you polish off the last bite of your burger. 

“Actually, yeah. Someone wore me out,” you answer cheekily, with a flirtatious shrug. 

He smiles, “Good. Stay right here.”

As you watch Carmy jump off of the bed, beelining for the minifridge to retrieve whatever he put in it earlier, you note that it’s the second time that he’s left you tonight whatever the hell it is he’s keeping in that goddamn plastic tupperware. With an arched eyebrow, you ask:

“Watcha got over there?” 

Carmy climbs back onto the bed, kneeling as he offers the square-shaped box to you, careful not to knock anything over on your shared room service tray. He begins to peel back the plastic lid, pulling it away from the storage container, earning a well-won sound of surprise from you as you realize exactly what it is. 

“Tiramisu?” you gasp, completely moved by your husband’s gesture. “Carm, when the hell did you have time to make this?”

He gives you nothing but a boyish shrug, before gathering your two unused spoons that came with the silverware sets that room service brought up with your late night dinner. 

“Had a little extra time at the restaurant this week,” is all he says, which you know is a lie. 

You send a skeptical look his way, because rarely does he ever have extra time at the restaurant where he’s just hanging around. Sure, a tiramisu isn’t wildly difficult to make, but it’s been off of The Bear’s menu for years now.

And you should know. You’re the one who put it on there in the first place. 

“Thought you didn’t bake,” you challenge him, as you pick up one of the spoons off of the room service tray.  

“Yeah ‘s about the only thing I can do… considering it requires little to no baking at all,” he shoots back, picking up his spoon as well. 

With no hesitation of being first, you dig your spoon into the soft cocoa powder covered cream and espresso soaked lady finger dessert, before raising your spoon to your lips for a first bite. 

“Ohhhh, baby…” you practically moan, your eyes closed as you throw your head back in pure bliss. 

Carmy snorts with laughter, but he’s satisfied with your reaction, knowing that he did a damn good job with it. 

“Would you two like to be alone?” Carmy teases you, pointing his spoon to the tiramisu then back to you. “Thought this was our honeymoon.” 

You lift your head, rolling your eyes playfully, before going back for seconds, “Don’t be jealous. You’re still the only one making me moan like that.”

And suddenly, the room feels about five degrees hotter, as Carmy feels heat rise to his cheeks. But he’s not quite ready to go there again, just yet, so instead he just explains:

“I know we both promised we wouldn’t do any of the food today, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to show you how much I love you in the only way I know how.” 

“It’s not the only way,” you tease him with a smirk, as he shakes his head incredulously. 

You can tell you’ve made him blush, which is only a little bit funny considering the dirty things that came out of his mouth barely an hour ago. But the silver lining is this, and it’s not lost on you: after all this time and all of these years, it’s good to know that on your wedding day, you still know how to flirt with your husband. 

Carmy’s eyes are fixed to the tiramisu as he focuses on digging his own spoon into the tiramisu, inhaling the spoonful right away. 

Damn. It is good, he thinks to himself, though he’s usually quite hesitant to give himself a compliment. 

“So what were you and Sugar talking about?” Carmy asks, curiously changing the subject. 

“Oof. You really wanna kill the mood with that answer?” you counter him, and he can hear the reality of the situation in the way your voice drops. 

“That bad?” he pries, hesitantly. 

“No,” you’re quick to reassure him. While you’re not sure you want to ruin a perfect night by talking about Donna, you also feel like there’s no escaping it either. “Sugar and I’s talk was great but… she was upset… about your mom not coming.”

With a quick raise of his eyebrows, Carmy nods along, only slightly disappointed by the answer. 

Leave it to Mom to ruin a perfectly good day without even showing up, he thinks to himself. 

“Are… you… okay about it?” you drag out, cautiously. 

“Yeah,” he answers with a curt nod. You’re not convinced, eyeing him carefully as Carmy chooses to charge through. 

“Didn’t really expect her to come anyways. Would’ve been more drama than it was worth.” 

“Bear,” you sigh in response to the impossible situation, because there’s no way that he’s not at least a little disappointed. 

He shrugs, his eyes evasive of yours as he scoffs dismissively, shaking his head. 

“Welcome to the fuckin’ family, I guess.”

You really don’t want to get into it now – not on your wedding night – so you shut your mouth even though you’re not exactly satisfied with his response. You know Carmy has every right to not want his mom there knowing that everything he’s said is true, but it still hurts your heart that he’s closed off his heart to her like this – that it has to be this way. 

You let out a heavy exhale, before digging back into the tiramisu, pushing the thought out of your mind. And just when you think you’re done talking about it, Carmy presses you once more, his voice softer this time as he asks:

“What’d you uh… say? To Sugar?” 

You take another breath, a sympathetic smile on your lips as you explain: 

“I told her that I was sorry… that things are the way that they are, but I really just think she just needed someone to listen to her.” 

“Yeah.”

A half beat. 

“And I told her that… well, I told her that… we get to change things. You and I. Her and Pete. With the baby coming and everything too and… and us. Getting married, you know?”

Carmy hums in response, nodding his head as he processes what you said. Returning his gaze to you, it feels like he’s looking right through you, his blues so intense as he softly speaks again.

“I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.”

You wait a beat, then another, noticing that your champagne glass is almost empty. You reach for the bottle, topping off Carmy’s flute first. You search your mind for something else to talk about, because you think he may actually be done talking about Donna this time, a small laugh escaping your lips as you think about today. 

“Hmmm?”

Your eyes move to Carmy’s, then back to the almost-empty champagne flute that you’re refilling as you smirk with, “Bold move putting me on the spot like that with the vows.” 

He laughs, a blush running across his cheeks as he shyly replies:

“You know, we got there, and I uh… well, I wanted to. Should I uh-, you know… think we shoulda talked about it before?” 

“No, I actually kind of liked it,” you reassure him, raising the champagne flute to your lips once more. You take a sip, before continuing to flirt with your husband. “You’re gettin’ the hang of this whole… romantic gesture thing, Berzatto.”

“Anything for you, Berzatto,” he shoots back, emphasizing your new last name in a way that makes your heart flutter at the reminder.

You hum a satisfied hum in response, relaxing a little more into where you sit on the bed. 

“Though if I had known ahead of time, I guess I could’ve prepared something. ‘S too bad,” you say playfully, causing Carmy to smile.

“We could do it now,” he offers, his voice going up at the end like it’s a question, and there’s something so boyish in his charm that it makes your heart melt. 

“Hmmmm,” you begin, pondering where you’d like to start. He had promised to love you forever, and you him, but as you think about all the ways you want to love him, a smile spreads across your lips. 

“Okay,” you accept, ready to play along. “I promise… that on the days you want breakfast burritos… that I will go to the place you like a few blocks down from ours.”

“Even though you think the place across from our place is better and closer?” he asks, unable to hide his shock as his eyebrows raise then lower. 

You giggle, “Even though I think the place near ours is way better and is so much more convenient to get to, Bear.” 

“Wow uh. Okay then,” Carmy says, taking this as an invitation. “Then I promise to always make sure to check that they put extra green salsa in the bag for you, no matter where we get the breakfast burritos.”

You grin, nodding your head alongside a, “You’re too good to me.”

This time, you take a moment to think it over, taking it more seriously now. 

“I think… we should promise… to always have each others’ backs; to always be each others’ teammate.”

Carmy nods his head in agreement, “Yeah I uh… I think that’s great, babe.” 

Two of you settle into a comfortable quiet, eating tiramisu and drinking champagne, while Carmy continues to steal glances your way when he thinks you aren’t looking. 

He takes a beat. Then another, before propping his head up on his hand where he lays on his side across from you.

“What about this?” he proposes. “We promise to love each other, even when we disagree.”

“Even when you’re being a dick,” you tease him with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. Even when I’m being a dick and you’re fuckin’ fed up with me,” he agrees with a head nod. “What else?”

“That we grow old together,” you say, without question, before painting him a picture of what you dream it could look like. 

“And we promise to take care of each other when we’re cranky and smelly, and you’re telling the grandkids about your glory days as a hotshot chef….” You take a beat, giggling at the thought. “... while I roll my eyes because you’re yelling at someone to bring you your old chef’s knife so that you can show them that you still know how to perfectly Brunoise a carrot.”

“Oh, you’re gonna have to pry my chef’s knife out of my cold dead hands,” he warns you, humorously.  

You laugh, “Honey, I knew that when I signed the marriage license.”

“I think we’ll be those grandparents, don’t you? The ones that pass on all of our recipes to the kids and the grandkids, and even when we’re not there anymore, we live on in everyone’s kitchen,” you conclude, and you can’t take your eyes off of him. “You know? You and me.” 

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

You exchange a silly laugh, because neither of you know where to go after this, your and his hearts warmed by the thought of growing old together. You’ve been together for years now, but in so many ways, it still feels like you have so much life ahead of you; a life with Carmy that you’re only just getting started. 

Carmy waits a beat, allowing your shared laugh to subside. 

“I like the sound of this. Of us,” he declares, his voice soft yet sure. 

“Me too, Carm. Me too,” you agree.

[maboroshi-no]

Hamefura LN 14 Chapter 1 Part 1 Summary

I am currently reading Hamefura LN14 and will post summaries after each chapter.

Chapter 1 is a bit long so I split it in two.

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Chapter 1: The Encounter at the Party (Part 1)

Break at Cyrus's Fields

Katarina and Maria are helping Cyrus with his fields. They are all taking a break at the moment.

Cyrus and Maria are talking about work. Katarina thinks they're so serious for talking about work during their free time. She turns her gaze away from them and looks at the fields.

Cyrus's fields have expanded since Katarina and Maria started helping. They will harvest fall crops soon. Katarina can't wait.

Katarina Would Like to Eat Rice

Katarina remembers that if she had been in Japan, it would soon be the period to harvest rice. New rice is delicious and she can't have enough of rice with dried plums and pickles.

Katarina inadvertently voices that she'd like to eat rice.

Maria asks her what she means, so Katarina explains that, while looking at the fields, she remembered that it would soon be the rice harvesting period. And then, she wished she could eat rice. 

Cyrus is surprised that Katarina would know about the rice harvesting period and realizes again how much Katarina likes Japanese food.

Katarina thinks to herself that it is only natural since her grandparents were rice farmers. She would help them with planting and harvesting rice.

Katarina remembers that in Sorcier, people eat bread and Western food, so there is no rice there. On the other hand, people eat rice and Japanese food in the neighboring country Sharma, which is similar to Japan. Incidentally, people also eat rice and Japanese food in Cyrus's region since it is bordering Sharma.

Katarina has been wanting to go to Cyrus's region since she heard they ate Japanese food there. However, she can't freely go there since it takes 4 days by carriage.

Cyrus is happy that Katarina enjoys his hometown's food so much. His parents send him home specialties after the fall harvest every year, so he offers to share some with her. Katarina jumps with joy and invites Maria to enjoy the food together. Maria chuckles and accepts.

Katarina wonders what food Cyrus will share with her. Tsukemono? New rice? She is about to ask Cyrus when she sees him make a very content smile.

Maria Has Been Tense Lately

Katarina asks Cyrus if something happened. Cyrus snaps back to reality. He whispers to her that he just felt glad since Maria has been smiling ever since Katarina invited her to help at the fields. Maria has been tense lately but she was able to calm down after coming here and interacting with Katarina. Katarina didn't know that Maria was tense.

Katarina remembers that Maria's family was attacked a few days ago. While she and Cezar were able to rescue Maria, they could only catch the thugs. They couldn't catch Sara, who was taken away by the "handsome seductive enigmatic uncle". As a result, they couldn't get any information about the organization except that they were targeting Maria. Following this, it was decided Maria's family would be protected at the Ministry and escorted by guards whenever they went out. Katarina can understand why Maria would feel tense.

Currently, Maria is not escorted by guards. Even so, she is still in the Ministry of Magic in Sorcier (the second most-guarded institution of the safest country in the world) and with Cyrus, who is a Ministry director and a powerful magic wielder, martial artist, and swordsman.

Katarina originally invited Maria to the fields to get some help for the harvest but she is glad that Maria could relax because of it.

Looking at Cyrus's happy face after Maria's smile, Katarina feels like she is third-wheeling. She turns her gaze towards the fields.

Mole Alert

Katarina notices an area of the fields where the earth is bulging. She shouts at Cyrus: "They got us! The enemy is here!"

Cyrus quickly stands up. He keeps Maria behind his back and asks Katarina where the enemy is. Katarina points to a hole in the ground. Cyrus is confused. Katarina explains that there's a mole: their natural enemy as farmers. Cyrus frowns and Maria bursts out laughing. Seeing Maria laugh, Cyrus relaxes his face a little.

Cyrus explains to Katarina that, while a mole is indeed a farmer's enemy, she shouldn't carelessly use the word "enemy" given Maria's state. Katarina realizes that she needlessly scared Maria and apologizes to her. But Maria laughs even louder, to the point she is holding her stomach.

Pondering Measures Against Moles

Cyrus inspects the hole and confirms there is a mole.

Katarina never saw a mole in her fields but she remembers that in her past life, her grandmother often had moles damaging her fields, which would make her furious.

Katarina is surprised there would be moles in the Ministry grounds. Cyrus replies it isn't so surprising given the natural setting here. He just never took measures against moles because they never damaged his fields until now.

Cyrus ponders about measures he could take against moles. Katarina also ponders about them on her side.

Katarina remembers that in her past life, her grandmother would bury some kind of nail that would make a piercing sound when it detected a mole. She eventually took it off because it became too noisy. Anyhow, it's not like she could find this kind of device in this world. 

Katarina wonders if she can leave in the fields something that would give off a pungent smell that would drive the moles away. With this line of thought, she comes up with a great idea.

Katarina's Measure Against Moles

Katarina summons Pochi. Cyrus asks her why she did. Katarina explains that she will have Pochi poop on the fields to scare off the mole. Cyrus is blank. Katarina explains that she heard that tanukis didn't get close to fields if they smelled dog poop, so she thought it might work on moles too.

In her past life, her grandmother would collect dog poop from the neighborhood and put them on the corners of her fields. Katarina couldn't help her back then because dogs hated her, but now, she can provide the dog poop since she has a dog.

Katarina orders Pochi to poop. Pochi barks in understanding and takes the posture.

Katarina loudly cheers Pochi on while he is trying to poop.

Maria shyly reminds Katarina that Pochi can't poop since he is a dark familiar. Both Katarina and Pochi are shocked after hitting upon this realization. Pochi cries in apology and Katarina apologizes to him in return for asking him the impossible. Seeing them, Maria burst out laughing again.

Cyrus reminds Katarina that it is wrong in the first place to leave dog poop on the prestigious grounds of the Ministry. Katarina thinks to herself that Cyrus still created fields on the prestigious grounds of the Ministry.

Katarina understands that it would be troublesome to leave dog poop here since it is smelly and people can step on it. Cyrus tells her it isn't that troublesome, but she still shouldn't do it. Anyhow, Cyrus tells Katarina he will think about how to put in place the measures he used in his hometown and asks her to stop thinking about measures. Katarina gladly leaves the issue to him since he is a "pro-farmer". When Pochi barks in agreement, Cyrus makes a little step backward.

Cyrus and Dogs

Katarina asks Cyrus if he feels uneasy with dogs. Cyrus tells her that's not it.

Katarina asks Cyrus if, by any chance, he'd like to get along with dogs but can't because they hate him. She is hoping to find a fellow in Cyrus. Cyrus denies it: he had a dog as a kid and often held it.

Katarina feels jealous of Cyrus, but she is glad to have Pochi now. She pets Pochi's head and Pochi seems to be enjoying it.

Looking at them, Cyrus tells Katarina that his dog would also close his eyes in contentment and wag his tail when he petted its head. He and his dog were always together, like siblings. Unfortunately, it died in an accident one day, right before his eyes. Since then, he has felt a little scared about interacting with dogs or even animals in general. Hearing this, Katarina takes Pochi in her arms and hugs him tightly.

Cyrus stays silent with a distant gaze while reminiscing about his dog. After a while, he suggests to Katarina and Maria they work a little longer and call it a day. Katarina and Maria accept without asking questions.

They all finish work and go home.

Katarina realizes upon going to sleep that she forgot to ask Cyrus what food his parents will send him.

Katarina Ponders about Cyrus's Trauma

The next day, Katarina is in the carriage and she is idly thinking about what Cyrus told her about his uneasiness with dogs.

It seems like not only Cyrus can't handle young women, he can't handle dogs either. That's a lot for one person. It is not so rare for capture targets in otome games to come with traumas, so she wonders if that's what it is.

In Fortune Lover 1, the capture targets had childhood traumas. For example, Alan suffered from always being compared to the perfect Geordo, and then Maria made him realize his strong points. Though, the actual Alan didn't end like this for some reason: he developed his talent for music and grew into a carefree person 

As for Keith, since he was unneeded by his biological parents, treated coldly by his adopted mother, and bullied by his adopted sister, he was supposed to become a distrusting frivolous man who played around with girls to satisfy his need for love, until Maria taught him about true love. But the actual Keith is the reliable son of the Claes family, gets along with his adopted mother, eagerly takes it upon himself to protect his older sister, and has grown into a pure good young man.

Katarina Talks With Keith in the Carriage

Katarina glances at Keith in front of her. His straightened back and neat clothes show that he isn't a playboy but he still exudes sexiness as a remnant of his sexy character status. Even so, he doesn't use his sexiness, which is a waste.

Katarina inadvertently voices, "What a shame". Keith asks her what is. Katarina explains that she thinks it's a shame that he exudes so much sexiness but doesn't use it.

Keith is wide-eyed for a moment, then frowns and makes a deep sigh. He agrees and tells her he was told the same thing several times. Keith looks dejected, so Katarina apologizes. Keith says it's fine.

Keith reminds Katarina that they are on their way to an important party. Katarina realizes that it is indeed not the time to think about Cyrus or the game.

Keith insists that Katarina should ready herself for the party. Katarina begs him to let her idle until they arrive. She promises she will focus and conduct herself properly during the party. But she will exhaust herself if she keeps being focused, so she needs to idle and she can only do it when they're alone together. 

Keith is choked up for words. He finally accepts since "she can only do it when they're alone together".

Katarina looks out the window. There's such a nice weather. She wishes she could have farmed today and indulged in sweets after work.

The Sorcier Kingdom Founding Anniversary Party

Today, the Sorcier Kingdom Founding Anniversary Party is held. A lot of foreigners have been invited. The atmosphere is similar to the International Assembly, but unlike it, it is not meant for socializing with people, but for everyone to enjoy this Sorcier celebration. It also lasts only one day, contrary to the International Assembly.

A lot of foreign emissaries will be there, so unlike in Sorcier-only parties, Katarina will need to walk around and greet everyone. She has been told to be careful of her surroundings since the dark magic organization might sneak in. People are thoroughly checked at the entrance but it is still possible. Katarina needs to be cautious while not acting rudely. 

The party is held in the largest hall of the castle. Out of respect for the customs of the other countries, ladies don't need an escort for this party.

Katarina and Keith enter the venue together.

There are a lot more people compared to the International Assembly. They are dressed in various kinds of clothes: Japanese style, Arabian style, Chinese style… There are also a variety of skin, hair, and eye colors. Even so, everyone talks in the same language. 

Katarina feels amazed by this sight. Keith tells her that such a variety of people is expected since more countries have been invited to this party compared to the International Assembly. Katarina is amazed that Keith guessed exactly what she was thinking. Keith chuckles and tells her it is normal since he has been her brother for 10 years already.

Keith reminds Katarina to be careful not to cause trouble. After recalling what happened during the International Assembly, Katarina replies that she will.

Keith and Katarina greet the Sorcier nobles, along with the foreign nobles they met at the International Assembly. Katarina is surprised she hasn't seen her friends yet, not even Geordo who always rushes to see her.

Katarina is thirsty, so she tells Keith she will go have a drink. Keith says okay while reminding her with his eyes not to eat or drink too much.

Encounter at the Buffet

Katarina goes to the buffet and is amazed by all the gorgeous food prepared for the anniversary party. She originally intended to just have a drink and go back but she thinks it wouldn't hurt to enjoy the food a little as long as she doesn't overeat. She picks up a lot of food and starts eating. After emptying her plate, she picks up some more food.

Katarina suddenly hears "You're eating too much". She startles and looks towards the voice. She realizes the words weren't aimed at her: a man she doesn't know is scolding a woman who has picked up a lot of food like her. Katarina feels an affinity with the girl.

The two people are dressed in kimono-like clothes so they probably come from Sharma, the neighboring country with a Japanese-like culture.

The man tells the woman that a lady shouldn't eat so much at a place like this. His scolding reminds Katarina of when Keith scolds her for the exact same reason. The woman retorts she just doesn't want to miss out on the banquet of the great country Sorcier. She will hardly have other opportunities like this. The two people appear to be siblings. Katarina deeply agrees with the sister and can't help silently cheering her on.

The sister notices Katarina and they make eye contact. Katarina notices the sister has black hair and eyes, and that she's beautiful. The sister notices Katarina's plate full of food, just like hers. At this moment, the two girls feels like they understand each other despite coming from different countries: enjoying a banquet is more important than lady etiquette.

The brother makes a deep sigh and tells the sister he wasn't telling her not to eat, just not to eat too much. His words also remind Katarina of Keith. The sister retorts that she can't avoid filling her plate since there is so much food. But it is not like she will eat everything at once she will just take a little of everything. Katarina silently agrees, it is exactly what she was doing. The sister notices Katarina's agreement and also nods to herself. Katarina feels like she could greatly get along with the sister.

The brother replies that, in that case, it would be more proper to just take a little of one or two dishes she likes. Katarina feels revolted by the brother's words and feels like she can't get along with him.

The sister feels revolted by her brother's thinking and feels like they will never understand each other.

The brother tiredly tells her they will talk about it later. She reminds her that the King will come give his greetings soon, so she must put her plate away. Hearing this, Katarina feels like she would rather eat all her food than put her plate away. She starts gulping down her food. The sister thinks the same thing and starts gulping down her food too. The brother is shocked to see his sister rushing to eat her food rather than putting away her plate. He is even more shocked to see Katarina doing the same thing.

Katarina and the sister have both finished their plates. When they put away their plates, they both smile and nod their heads at each other.

The King's Greetings

Trumpets announce the King's coming. The King appears with the Queen at his side, and the four princes behind them.

The King makes a speech, thanking everyone for coming to the party held for the 300th anniversary of the founding of the Sorcier Kingdom.

After the speech, the foreign attendees go to greet the royals. The Sorcier nobles stay back since they were told beforehand they didn't need to greet the royals for this party.

Katarina starts picking up food again but the sister is dragged away by her brother to greet the royals. Looking at her reluctantly leave, Katarina says "Do your best" in her direction. While she isn't sure the sister heard her, she feels like she said "Yes" in response.

Katarina would like to talk with the sister again and become friends with her if the opportunity arises.

Katarina Talks With Cezar

Katarina suddenly hears someone say "You're eating too much". When she turns around, she realizes that it's Cezar.

Katarina thanks Cezar again for helping her when she lost control of her dark magic. Cezar is glad to see she is well. After all, the last time he saw her, she had fainted.

Katarina remembers what happened at that time. Cezar visited her the day after they rescued Maria, and when she thanked him for his help, Geordo suddenly appeared, became jealous, and gave her an adult kiss in front of Cezar. Because she was so inexperienced with love, she felt overwhelmed and fainted.

Katarina feels embarrassed after remembering this. She starts explaining to Cezar that it wasn't because she was unwell that she fainted, but because she wasn't used to kissing. Midway, she feels panicked about explaining how inexperienced she is about love.

Looking at her, Cezar chuckles and realizes again that both Katarina and Geordo are still very young. Katarina is confused by his reaction.

Cezar asks Katarina if she hated it when Geordo kissed her. Katarina is confused: she felt embarrassed at the time but she can't tell whether she liked it or not.

Looking at her pondering so hard, Cezar changes his mind and tells her she doesn't need to answer him after all. He would prefer she didn't. Then he lightly strokes her head. Katarina is confused and wonders if Cezar doesn't want to talk about it anymore.

Cezar feels a threatening look piercing his back and decides to stop at this. He advises Katarina not to move out alone since there are a lot of people. He will go call her family for her, so he asks her to wait here.

After Cezar leaves, Katarina realizes that she has dropped her guard again after seeing the gorgeous food.

Katarina wonders if Cezar will be able to find Keith in this huge crowd. Especially since she knows where Keith is. She decides to join Keith once she has finished eating.

Keith's Lecture

Katarina suddenly hears someone say "You're eating too much". It is Keith.

Keith scolds her for not going back despite telling him she would just go have a drink. He was worried and couldn't seem to get out of the conversation. Fortunately, Cezar spoke to him and told him where she was. Katarina is amazed that Cezar could find Keith so quickly in this huge crowd.

Keith tells Katarina she should pull herself together since she caused trouble to Cezar. Katarina sincerely apologizes. Keith ends his lectures.

Katarina eats the rest of her plate with Keith's permission.

A Look Towards the Royals

Katarina notices that the number of people has decreased. Keith doesn't agree: it only looks that way because all foreigners have gone to greet the royals.

Keith shows Katarina the long line of people waiting to greet the royals. It is way longer than in usual parties. At the end of the line, the royals are repeatedly greeting people with a smile.

Katarina can see that Alan is starting to tire out since he is not good at socializing. Next to him, Geordo must also be tired even if he doesn't show it.

When Katarina looks at Geordo, she has the feeling their eyes met for an instant. It startles her. Keith asks her what is wrong. Katarina explains that she felt like Geordo and her made eye contact even though she was mixed in the crowd. She thinks it was probably her imagination. Keith pretends to agree while thinking to himself that it was probably not her imagination.

Cyrus and Maria

Mary calls Katarina. There are also Sophia, Nicol, Maria, and Cyrus with her.

Katarina is surprised to see Cyrus with everyone. She asks them if they all came together. Mary replies that she, Sophia, and Nicol came together, then they saw Cyrus and Maria together at the entrance, and then they all stayed together.

Katarina is shocked that Cyrus and Maria went to the ball together. Cyrus kept saying until now he was too embarrassed to ride in a carriage alone with her or talk alone with her, but he finally did it. Katarina feels so happy and proud that Cyrus has finally reached grade schooler-level maturity in terms of romance.

Maria explains that she actually met Cyrus at the castle. It was Sora who escorted her on the way to the castle. Cyrus proudly confirms it with a face that seems to say "Of course since I can't ride in a carriage alone with her". Katarina feels so disappointed. She wonders how Cyrus will be able to make progress with Maria at this rate.

Maria was told to attend this party since many people wanted to talk with her as a Sorcier celebrity. She doesn't seem escorted by guards so Katarina wonders if both Cyrus and Sora were assigned as her guards this time. Or maybe Cyrus was assigned as her guard but he asked Sora to escort her on the way to the castle because he couldn't ride in a carriage alone with her. This possibility seems more likely.

Katarina asks Cyrus in a low voice if he was the one who asked Sora to escort Maria on the way to the castle. Cyrus readily confirms it since he can't ride in a carriage alone with Maria. Katarina is shocked that Cyrus is okay with Sora and Maria being alone together. Katarina doesn't understand why Cyrus would be wary of Dewey but not of Sora. Sora should be a greater threat since he is good at sweet-talking women. If Sora fell for Maria, Cyrus's chance would drop to zero.

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

Katarina: Umm, are you okay with Sora and Maria alone together?  Sora might have feelings for Maria, you know?

Cyrus: No, Sora doesn't have feelings for Maria. Even I can see that.

Katarina: Huh? What do you mean?

Cyrus: What I mean? Well, however I look at it…

Katarina: However you look at it, what?

Cyrus: Lady Katarina, didn't you notice?

Katarina: Notice what?

Cyrus: …

Katarina: Wait, Lord Cyrus. What is it? What do you mean?

As Cyrus fell silent, I asked this with a little loud voice.

Cyrus: Lady Katarina, I see that you still are a child ignorant of love.

He said this with a little tired face.

Wh-Whaaaat~?! Cyrus, who is no better than a grade-schooler when it comes to romance, dares tell me I'm a child ignorant of love?! I don't want to hear that from YOU!!

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

Nicol Kept Being Approached By Foreigners

Katarina is about to retort something when Mary pulls her arms, offers her some sweets, and forcibly separates her from Cyrus. Katarina still wants to yell at Cyrus but she is intrigued by the sweets.

Mary tells her these sweets are probably a new creation since she has never seen them before. Katarina tastes them and finds them delicious. Maria asks if she can taste them too. Katarina accepts even though it was Mary who offered them. Maria finds them delicious. Then Sophia and Nicol taste them too and find them delicious.

Mary is glad they could finally join with Katarina. Katarina assumes it was hard to find her given the number of people. Mary replies it was not the case since she assumed they would find her at the buffet. Katarina feels dejected that people would figure her out so easily.

Maria explains it was because they kept getting approached by people and could hardly make a step. Katarina is not surprised people would ask Mary, Maria, and Sophia out since they're pretty. Mary explains it was rather Nicol who kept getting approached. Katarina is shocked. 

Sophia explains that Nicol's charm is particularly effective today given the number of foreign people. Nicol was not only approached by young women but also men and women of all ages. Some of them were high-ranking people in their primes, so they had to deal with them carefully.  

Katarina is amazed by Nicol's charm which fascinates people of all genders, ages, and countries. Even with these beautiful girls with him, he can boast about being the most popular one. 

Mary admits that Nicol's charm was so troublesome that she felt like wrapping a cloth around his face.

Even after hearing the rumors, Cyrus still can't believe the number of people who approached Nicol.

Sophia mentions that Nicol has been especially courted by large foreign men. She thinks they're probably considering loving Nicol as a woman. Nicol sharply stops Sophia. His tone is sharp but his face looks tired. Katarina doesn't know if it is because he was approached by large men, or because of Sophia's fantasies, speech, and conduct.

Cyrus Came to the Party to Escort Maria

Cyrus changes the subject. He confesses that it has been a while since he went to a party and he feels overwhelmed by the number of people here. Katarina is surprised that Cyrus doesn't go to parties but realizes that she indeed never met Cyrus at a party. Cyrus explains that he doesn't feel at ease at parties and is also busy with work, so he always rejects the invitations.

Still, Cyrus is not the only one. Many nobles at the Ministry don't go to parties, like Larna / Susanna Randall, who only goes to important parties. Ministry people are also swamped with work.

Maria apologizes to Cyrus since he had to push himself to go to the party for her. Maria seems to think that Cyrus was forced to attend the party to guard her. Katarina rather thinks Cyrus volunteered to do it. After all, Cyrus would do anything to protect Maria.

Cyrus tells Maria that he planned from the beginning to attend the party and volunteered to guard her after hearing she would also attend it…because he was worried about her. Katarina can imagine that Cyrus had to muster a little courage to say the last part.

Maria is happy to hear this and warmly thanks him for "being so concerned for his subordinate". Maria seems to have taken it as the considerate gesture of a superior towards his subordinate rather than a romantic gesture. As the heroine of an otome game, Maria seems to be dense when it comes to love. Katarina feels sorry for Cyrus.

Katarina thinks to herself that in Cyrus's place, Geordo would have clearly told Maria that he was worried about her because he loved her, not because she was his subordinate. Cyrus doesn't need to be like Geordo but he needs to work hard if he wants the dense Maria to notice his feelings.

Katarina really wonders how Cyrus could romance Maria in the game. Maybe he had a sad ending where he only married her in his dream? She can tell that Cyrus is losing to the 14-year-old Dewey and that he will just end up as a good superior at this rate. She sometimes wants to push Cyrus but he always says that he can't be alone with Maria. It is frustrating. Even today, he probably planned from the start to join with Mary and the others so he wouldn't be alone with Maria. Even though he accepted to guard Maria, he won't make any progress with her. Cyrus is just so hopeless.

[siolixz]

~Veils Of Crimson~

Chapter 5: part 1

Pairings: oz cobb x reader (Carmine Falcone's daughter)

<chapter 1> <chapter 2> <chapter 3><chapter 5: part 2>

Oz got what he wanted. As he always does. Reader slowly begins peeling back the veil around her- the truth will come to light soon.

I decided to split this chapter in 2 parts because in part 2 there is a scene in which something not that nice happens and that's all I'm gonna say.

I took my inspo from Driving Miss Falcone by (https://www.tumblr.com/genevievedarcygranger here on tumblr), check out the story if you can.

Enjoy, give feeback if u want ily xoxo.

Warnings: mature language, Oz is a manipulative bastard, smexy stuff happening at the end.

Apparently Sofia and Oz have got themselves a partnership. One based on mutual suspicion and distrust, you thought. When you guys left that night, you were in the backseat, Sofia and Oz in the front-with Oz driving. “Just like old times” she said, like old times my ass- you guys didn’t talk to each other at all during the drive, except Oz glancing at you in the back every so often-everything was quiet. 

You finally saw what your brother and sister were up to, it was…different, to say the least.

If they wanted to get their product on the market and somehow overthrow the Falcone operation, they needed manpower and connections, lots and lots of connections.

 Sofia was really going forward with this mad plan. She knew virtually nothing about how this world works and yet she found herself a kingpin. Great. 

Talking to the second in command of the triads wasn't easy but Oz’s smooth talking pulled them through- as he told you.

You talked to Sofia as well, that night, she stopped the car outside and you had the chance to talk to your sister, that didn’t go as smoothly:

“I heard you two are gonna sell ‘Bliss’ tomorrow- at Oz’s club. I wanna be there too, ya know? Not be put on the side lines like today at the meeting.”

“That can’t happen.” Sofia lit herself up a cigarette while she had that poker face she always carried since coming back from Arkham- her words were cold.

“Why is that?” you asked

She took a deep breath and continued “I thought about it and I think the best course of action is if you stay put- at Oz’s place if you like, until we come back. We don’t know how Zao will react.”

There was a prolonged silence as you tried to process what she just told you. The street light that was illuminating your sister's face only further accentuated the harshness in her eyes.

“Stay put- like a dog, ok, got it.” you looked around, looking for anyone who might've been walking by and hearing.

“That is not what I wanted to say, If it makes you feel better- Viti told me to leave as well.” 

“Ok so why don’t you?” you shot back- angry at her orders.

Sofia took a step closer, the scent of smoke and expensive perfume infiltrated your nostrils while she looked at you like you just cussed her out “Are you fucking kidding me? Not you too” She probably felt betrayed- but in that moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Sofia, this shit you got in your head, about taking over- this ain’t our game to play. We don’t even know the rules.” Your voice almost broke in desperation. Desperation that your sister might still listen to reason- might still turn back from this crazy plan that might get her killed. How could she know anything about being a kingpin?

“No. This is my birthright and I am taking it, this shit you’re talking about- all those snakes back at home, they said the same as you-” The memory of the people you knew very well from back home ignited her need for revenge even more you were well aware of that.

“This path you’re going down on, it’s dark and littered with blood and death, after escaping from that hellhole, I thought you had enough.”Your voice broke at the last word.

That place already took so much from her, why is she so stubborn?

For a moment, something flickered in her eyes—a shadow of doubt, perhaps—but it was gone as quickly as it came.

Her jaw clenched, and she shook her head. “No, it seems I haven’t.” The finality of her words made your heart clench. You knew the pain inside of her was way greater than any need for power, you knew it ate her alive every day.

“Alright-”

Sofia took another drag of her cigarette “Seems like you already got yourself nice and comfy next to another murderer and schemer,”she said, her voice sharp and cutting, each word a deliberate slice.

A smirk played at the corner of her lips, taunting. "Or perhaps 'under him' would be more accurate."

Your jaw clenched, a hot flash of anger surging up your neck. You balled your fists by your sides, nails digging into your palms. “Oh, shut up, Sofia!” The words came out more forcefully than you intended, vibrating with the pent-up frustration that had been simmering inside, both of you bound by the unspoken truth of who you were and what you had become.

You took a shaky breath, feeling your chest tighten as the rush of emotions threatened to spill over. “You’ve been cold and distant ever since I saw you again,” you said, your voice wavering between anger and hurt. “What did you want me to do?” Your eyes searched hers, hoping to find some flicker of the sister you once knew.

“I lost my dad and my brother in the span of one week,” you continued, your throat constricting. The memory sent a sharp ache through your chest, but you pressed on, keeping your chin up despite the burning behind your eyes. “And it seems like my sister has forgotten my entire existence.”

You swallowed hard, shifting your weight as the vulnerability made you feel exposed. “I am—we are—women in this world,” you said, the words quivering with the raw truth of it. “All we have been taught is that we need to be protected and that we need to be subservient.” Your gaze hardened, eyes narrowing slightly as you looked at her. “I am sorry I can’t change the game. I would love to, but I can’t—and neither can you.”

She looked at the ground before lifting her head and responding, her eyes didn’t look remorseful. “I know and that is ok… I’ll make new rules.”

“Yeah, good fucking luck with that.” you turned and left after that comment. 

Whatever the fuck was she thinking? Let’s change 100 years of tradition and indoctrination because I am back from a mental asylum and need to be respected as the head of the Falcone mob.

Back at his place, after the meal- you and Oz retreated to the bedroom. He was sitting on the couch, whiskey in hand, eyes narrowing as you spoke, letting you say your piece.

“Say something” you commanded of him, Oswald barely kept his mouth shut and now he was as quiet as a mouse

“Listen, sweetheart, there’s a lot of things I can say but one is pretty darn clear” he sipped the last bit of whiskey he had left.

“your sister…she ain’t right in the head no more. I know this might seem hard to understand, but I saw it with my own eyes I mean, she shot two people point blank and ever since coming home-” you couldn’t believe what he was telling you “ she ain’t the woman you used to know.” he said softly- like that time in the restaurant when he told you about Alberto.

You looked down at your feet “I guess” He came next to you on the bed “Look at me” he said- your eyes stayed on the ground

“Look at me. Don’t go crying now.” you lifted your head from the floor and looked into his brown eyes

 “Your sister is ambitious, yes, but without me doll, she ain’t got much going for her- I mean yeah she’s the daughter of Carmine and ambitious as hell since coming back but that’s about it.”

“She also has the drug-”

“-Yes yes and that, but that’s about it. We need a bigger fish to pull these ones out of the water. Viti is gonna help us with that.” He looked at you with a small smile and a twinkle in his eyes- like before he said a joke.

“Viti doesn’t even like you guys-” you were confused, your mind racing as you watched Oz rise from the couch and walk toward one of the lockers on the wall, you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of secrets he kept hidden.

What else could he be hiding?

He opened a dossier and sat back down beside you, flipping through it like he had all the time in the world. When you saw the photos—Viti with Luca’s wife—you couldn’t hold back a surprised laugh.

Now that you didn’t expect.

Oz leaned back, smirking, his eyes cold as he glanced at you. “See, they all got secrets.”

You turned to face him, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach, but you still had to ask. “Yeah- what’s yours?”

Oz’s gaze locked on you, and for a split second, you saw something flicker—was it a warning? Maybe a little too sharp, a little too calculating.

He smiled slowly, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I ain’t got none.”

The club mission was a failure, clearly.

The wreckage of the car outside was enough proof of that. As Oz slammed the door open with a force that made the hinges groan, you could feel the tension in the air—the kind that felt like the world itself was about to come undone.

“Where the hell are you!?” he bellowed, his voice sharp, panic mixing with anger. When he saw you, his face twisted into something hard, something you hadn’t seen before. Without another word, he grabbed you by the arm, yanking you toward him.

“Did you talk to your sister?” 

“N-no, why?”

His words came in a rush: “Sofia—she made a deal with the Maronis. As soon as the deal was done, they tried fuckin’ kill me.”

You froze, the weight of his words crashing over you like a tidal wave.

How could she?

The question burned through your mind, but before you could respond, Oz was already on you again.

“Give me your phone. Now.”

He was forceful, more so than ever before. His hand darted into your pocket before you could even think, his fingers wrapping around your phone. There was no hesitation. No gentleness. He ripped it out and, before you could react, crushed it beneath the cold barrel of his gun, the sound of the phone shattering filling the room.

“What the hell are you doing?” The words left your mouth before you could even stop them, the confusion and disbelief clear in your voice.

Oz didn’t flinch, his eyes cold as ice. “We can't stay here. Come on, we have to go.”

When Oz came back home and told you the news, you knew who did it.

Sofia.

How could she?

Gone was the sister you once knew and loved and she was replaced with a psychopath who would stop at nothing to achieve her goals, a monster.

The police came and questioned you- they asked you where you were and you told them you wanted nothing to do with your sister, for you- she died 10 years ago. 

Things changed so much over the course of a few weeks- Oz had his own operation after stealing it from the Maronis, you thought he had what he wanted now, but no.

Sofia and Sal were after him and he was a man emboldened by the flame of ambition and power.

 His behavior changed, he started acting differently towards you- sure, he was still the same passionate man you knew but he was different- whenever he would visit you he would look at you differently, a certain gleam in his eyes. Like a guy that just won the lottery. 

You felt numb, your whole life has been destroyed and he was the last thing you had- maybe you should’ve been more careful.

Victor visited you often “to check up on you”- you would often talk to the young man about different subjects, about family and how things can change. You found a friend in Vic soon enough and you knew he felt the same towards you. 

When you guys would eat dinner together- after a hard day at work for both of them you would smile at each when you placed their food on the plates.

You would joke with BOTH of them at the table- you would share stories; you would also say ‘thank you’ and ‘please’ to BOTH of them. So why on earth did Oz send glares Vic’s way whenever you would look at him? Like he wanted to yell.

Whenever you would talk to Victor, he would always interrupt you two- with something HE had to say.

Oz acted like a spoiled brat- wanting all of your attention. 

You mostly ignored his ugly looks and snarky remarks towards the young man; he must’ve had a hard day at work.

Sometimes after dinner- he would send Victor away and as he came back to the room you shared he would turn you around on the bed and fuck you until you were sore. Your sweet Oz was gone those nights- replaced with a brute of a man. His grip so hard on you it would leave bruises. 

This ‘relationship’ you two had- it turned more into an ownership of you and he relished in that fact. He would whisper to you at night how you two couldn't leave each other- Sofia would kill you both. 

He was all you had left.

You would lie awake, longing for your old home, where butlers moved gracefully through the halls and your siblings waited to hear your stories- where you’ve been; what you bought lately and all the gossip you would share with them over dinner.

You cried at night more than once, quietly, longing for the laughter and innocence you had left behind.

There had always been hints, moments when you glimpsed the truth: Oz was always two steps ahead.

His charm was his greatest weapon, wielded with precision until he claimed everything he desired.

Now, as he kissed your forehead, a triumphant smile playing on his lips, he said, “I did it. I showed them all.” His voice brimmed with pride. “I’m the king now.”

His power outstripped even that of your father’ and his influence spread across the underworld of Gotham City like dark tendrils- nothing moved without him knowing or having a say in it, he ruled with an iron fist all the unseen acts that plagued this city.

He was richer than your father ever was; he rebuilt Crown Point- he made the people believe that someone was looking out for them and he reveled in his victories.

When he would turn to you and ask, “Are you proud of me?” you would nod, a hesitant ‘yes’ slipping from your lips—whether out of fear, habit, or the last remnants of genuine admiration, you couldn’t say.

When he told you that you would become “Mrs. Cobb,” dread took root in your chest. The proposal wasn’t accompanied by the rush of joy you once dreamed about.

Instead, it was a heavy proclamation, laced with inevitability. 

Oz’s love, though real, was cold and calculating, much like your father’s had been and his passion, though fierce, masked an unnatural need to control.

The friendly man who once drove you around and helped you with the smallest of tasks had faded, replaced by a king in his castle, imperious and unyielding, his word was law in this tower he built for you.

 “It’s all for you-all of it.” he would say

He presented the ring—a dazzling 9.7-carat oval diamond that seemed to mock your lack of freedom. He had you right where he wanted. The dutiful wife, the future mother of his children—a living doll.

You played your part, mostly.

The penthouse’s grandeur became a gilded cage, its wealth unable to fill the void left by days spent alone.

The designer clothes and generous allowances he handed you no longer brought excitement, just a hollow echo of the life you once knew.

You didn’t know what you felt for him anymore, was it love? You knew him very well and you cared for his well being, he was your husband after all.

But this love you carried for him, it twisted and turned when you would ask yourself “was this necessary?” you would’ve loved him even as a driver and as a club owner. You never asked him to do all this for you. 

The penthouse you lived in was a masterpiece of modern opulence mixed with the old grandeur of the Falcone villa.

High ceilings stretched above great windows that overlooked Gotham’s skyline, capturing the sprawling city in all its moody grandeur. Sunlight poured through the windows during the golden hours, casting long, warm shadows across the polished marble floors. Despite the luxury, an eerie silence lingered, interrupted only by the soft ticking of an antique clock and the quiet whispers of the house staff—a stark contrast to the bustle that once filled your childhood home.

Everything spoke of power: the leather-bound books you never touched, the marbled flooring and opulent pieces of furniture; the grand piano that hadn’t played a note since it was installed, and the chandelier that sparkled overhead like a captive constellation. 

One late afternoon, as the sun dipped and painted the city in hues of gold and amber, you sat in the living room scrolling through your phone, disconnected from everything around you. The soft sound of footsteps pulled you from your trance. A maid stood beside you, her hands clasped, eyes wide with nervousness.

“Ma’am, a letter arrived for you.” 

“Who is it from?” your eyes didn’t leave the phone you had in your hand.

“A woman- her name is Selina Kyle.” the maid answered

As you opened the black envelope and read the context of the letter your jaw dropped. This woman- she was your half sister, she wanted to know you- to meet you. She said she was scared to write this letter in case you didn’t want anything to do with her, but she had to get in contact with you; she had a plan to get-

“Good evening, sir.” you heard the maid that gave you the envelope greet the master of the house. 

Shit.

  His footsteps echoed on the marble floor, each one a drumbeat against your chest.

He knew every corner, every inch of this house, and you dreaded that he might have seen you hide something.

“There she is,” he exclaimed, “how are you doll?” he came over and kissed you. After the quick peck he went over to the bar he had near one of the windows to pour himself some whiskey. 

“I’m good, you?” you tried your best to not look suspicious- he was too perceptive, always watching and always knowing.

“Good, good- I met up with a bunch of congressmen tonight- bunch of ass kissers.” he chuckled in his glass and poured you some wine as well.

“Oh- I don’t want anything to drink Oz.” 

“Why? Something the matter- " he raised an eyebrow at you as he turned around" -don’t tell me you’re gonna make me the happiest man alive tonight.” he proudly announced

“No- I'm just… very tired, ya know? I was going to head to bed.” you stepped away from the couch and went towards the older man “Maybe you can join me.”

Distract him.

He smiled at you “Can never say no to you, can I?” He asked “I have to give some phone calls and I’ll join you.” 

You smiled at turned around to leave.

“Why don’t you put on one of the dresses I got you. Show them to me- just like old times.” 

Oz loved reminiscing, he loved telling you stories of the things you used to do back then- how you acted. You were kinda spoiled but oh well. You were now too. 

He would encourage you to buy whatever you wanted, whatever you needed and desired– it was yours. He was happy to see you spoiled and enjoying the sort of things this life- your life together brought you.

Sometimes after he would come home you would play dress up for him and show him all the things you got yourself as he sipped some cognac on the couch and compliment you, saying how most of the things you got for yourself reminded him of when you were younger– still the same tastes.

Oswald waited patiently until all that was left would’ve been the lingerie section- that was his favorite, after all the anticipation he was more than ready to pull you on the couch on top of him or under him. Completely not caring if one of your maids or butlers would walk past or hear.

You promised him you will and got your phone and the book from the table; climbing the steps until you got upstairs in the master bedroom you two shared.

A big and gorgeous room filled with the opulence Oswald was so keen on sharing to the world. You shoved the letter in your purse and went into the closet to change.

After dressing up, you laid on the bed and at one point you must’ve fallen asleep because the feeling of having your dress pulled up with the familiar weight of your husband's body next to you as he was grabbing your ass woke you up.

“Are you tired sweetheart?” he whispered in your ear as his hands went to your pussy, softly rubbing circles on top of your panties.

You nodded, knowing it won’t make a difference for him. He pulled your leg over his body as he laid next to you. 

You turned the upper part of your body to kiss him, he grabbed your breast as well “You look beautiful baby.” He whispered next to your ear.

 You loved this man and you hated what he had to do to get here- you loved his ambition and calculating nature; you hated that he placed your sister in a mental asylum and that he got rid of everything that reminded you of any sort of normality- he wanted you all to himself. 

What did he do to Victor? Where was he? He was your friend. 

As he grabbed your lips between his you tried to forget. You had a lead now- something you could be doing, you had to read the letter once again but you were sure now that maybe this woman could help you two. 

You had to see your sister.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note: I already wrote part 2- I just need to edit it and add some things. The story will end here with them 2. I hope that I could showcase Oz's nature well enough.

I don't want to say a lot about the next part but it will be- something, to say the least. I wanted to really tune it up but I think AO3 might be a better place for that lol still have one story left to write with Oz, about him and his daughters, I can't wait to show you guys.

Also, If you have any sort of ideas or something about one-shots, pls tell me- give me some inspo. Thank you for reading :))))))))))))

[jsmelodies]

Cassian thought it was supposed to be simple. 

Find the witch in the woods.

Convince said witch to give him Ataraxia.

Rescue the princess from the dragon guarding her tower, with said sword, from said witch.

If only the damned witch stopped getting in his way.

Read here on ao3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

And she's done, folks! Thank you to everyone who's read this/interacted with it in any way. It feels so strange to say goodbye (for now), but I had to finish a multi chapter one of these days.

**Slightly nsfw chapter**

Chapter 4

Being wrapped in Cassian’s arms was her favorite thing, she decided.

He held her close, not letting her out of his grasp as they slept, his breath tickling her where it hit the crown of her head. He was all muscle beside her, his chest slightly hairy and soft to the touch, and she nestled closer, tucking her head beneath the crook of his chin.

She wasn’t used to cuddling after sex. Not in this capacity, anyway. At most, she’d stay for an hour or two, just until both parties came down and their heart rates settled, but her pride always forced her to leave.

She didn’t want to leave Cassian’s arms.

When they’d finished, and Cassian finally separated himself from her, he cleaned her up with such care that she’d almost teared up. Then they’d settled together under the blankets, his arm over her waist while their legs tangled together. Her chest pressed against his, and they’d fallen asleep that way.

Peaceful. That was the right word for it. The slow movements of his fingers on her back, and feeling his heavy breathing beside her—it was everything she didn’t know she needed until she had it.

She felt the moment he woke, when he shifted and let out a long, deep sigh.

“Nes,” he said, with a voice hoarse from sleep, his hand playing with the ends of her hair.

She tilted her face back to look at him, and his eyes blinked open, with the adoration she’d quickly become used to directed at her, mouth curving as he remembered where he was.

“Hey,” she said softly, running her thumb over his cheek.

Cassian’s stubble was rough on the pads of her fingers. In a split second, she decided this was how she wanted to wake up every morning from here on out: across from Cassian’s lazy grin, the warmth of his arm seeping through her as he reached over the crook of her waist. 

She didn’t stop him from leaning down, connecting his lips with hers. He swallowed her whimper with his kiss, and delved his hand into her hair. His tongue lingered on her lips, and she opened for him.

He groaned against her mouth, the sound reverberating through her bones, and his knee slid between her legs. Parted them.

The movement of her hips, as she aimed to get closer, had him pausing. He forced himself away. Forced himself to look, without giving into that raw, physical need.

“We need to talk about it,” he said, resigned. “Before we go again.”

“Do we?”

“Yes, princess.”

She had to admit he was right. Cassian deserved the truth—all of it. “What do you want to know?”

His mouth opened, and closed, as if he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say. Eventually, he settled on, “Why?”

Why.

Why do any of it? She knew that was what he was really asking. “Because I tend to be very, very overprotective of my sister.”

Cassian lifted an eyebrow. “And that’s all?”

Her pulse fluttered. Not out of nervousness to tell the truth, exactly, but because she’d grown used to not sharing her secrets. Secrets that, as her betrothed, Cassian should know. “A lot of people pass through here,” she explained. “I’ve become quite skilled at determining who is good at heart, and who isn’t.”

He waited silently. Patiently. Letting her tell the truth of it at her own pace, face filled with understanding.

“These woods can bring out the worst in a man. More often than not, that’s what I see.” She stroked his cheek tenderly. Fondly. “But in rare cases, it can bring out the best in one, too.”

He clutched that hand in his own, bunching it and bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. “Which category do I fall in?” he asked, the lines of his face crinkled in amusement.

“What do you think?” she said, chuckling. “I have seen your heart, Cassian, and I know that it’s good. And perhaps, selfishly, I kept it for myself.”

She watched it all soften, the look on Cassian’s face. “I’m glad that you’re the one to hold it,” he whispered. “And I think that you are allowed to be selfish, when it comes to love.”

She’d guard it fiercely. And from the look that Cassian gave her, he knew that truth as well.

“Why did you leave?” he asked. “All those years ago. People speculate, and I suppose the witchcraft has something to do with it. But…why?”

“Because my mother deemed me dangerous.,” she said, looking away and drawing circles on his arm. “There was another witch here, once. I apprenticed under her for a time, until she passed away. It’s just been me ever since.”

“How long?” 

“Five years.” Right before she met Tomas. But she wasn’t quite ready to talk about that yet.

“You could have come back,” he said.

Nesta shrugged. “Enough people called my kind monsters,” she said. “And there is a kingdom’s worth of knights who would see any kind of monster killed. So why would I?”

He took her chin, tilting it back up to meet his gaze. She saw guilt, of all things, flash across his eyes. “It must have been lonely,” he said quietly.

“You have no idea,” she said.  “I love it out here. It’s my home. But sometimes, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to life than this.” She opened her mouth to continue. “I…”

She tried to find the words, but they didn’t come to her. Instead, water blurred in her eyes, a tear escaping onto her cheek.

“Hey,” he said, wiping away that stray tear. “You don’t need to tell me all of it today. You know that, right?” he said. “We have a lifetime ahead of us. When you’re ready, I’ll listen to whatever you need. You can throw whatever you need at me; I won’t break.”

For that, she was grateful. 

He got close again, chest going flush against hers. “And I don’t ever want to make you cry, Nesta,” he said against her lips.

She closed the distance, kissing him again. He had no qualms about doing it back, and he peppered them across her cheek, her nose, her forehead.

He traced her curves with his hand, from her breasts down to the small of her waist. “I’ve wanted to touch you like this for days,” he admitted. “From the moment I saw you, I wanted you in my bed. Is that so bad?”

A part of her softened at that. “You can have me whenever you want.”

He chuckled. “No. I didn’t mean that. Well, yes that. But I meant…this.” 

He established what he meant by resuming his earlier attentions. He kissed the crook of her neck, and slid his hand over her back.

“Getting to know what your skin feels like, when it’s been a long day, or week, or month, and to be able to just be with you.” He kissed a freckle on her shoulder. “You are everything to me, Nesta.”

“Cassian,” she said. Perhaps it was a bit desperate.

His voice was guttural as he said, “Come here.” He parted her mouth with a press of his lips, tilting her head up and holding it steady with his hand. 

He lifted up onto his elbow as he kissed her relentlessly, moving to pin her beneath him on the mattress.

But that wouldn’t do. Her promise to herself from earlier came to mind, of what she wanted to do to him, and she halted him with a hand to his chest.

Then, she retreated from the bed. Stood at the foot of it. He watched her hungrily, eyes silently questioning why she wasn’t beside him.

“Come here,” she said, crooking a finger.

Cassian crawled. He made his way towards her, lifting himself onto his knees when he made it to the bottom of the bed right before her. 

“Come back to bed,” he whispered. 

“I will,” she promised. She traced her finger down the side of his face, over his strong chin. “Sit down for me.”

He leaned away, the skepticism clear on his face, but he did as she asked anyway. He swung his knees out from beneath him and sat on the bed.

His face was as hard as stone as he looked down. Up. Over the peaks of her breasts, which he took in his hands, to her hips, and all the way back to her eyes.

His hands slid down, moving to cup the bottom of her thighs. To pull her onto his lap, which she couldn’t find it in herself to stop.

She was unable to tear her gaze away from his cock that had gone hard again, jutting upwards between their stomachs. She wrapped her hand around it, tightening her grip until his head fell back with a groan.

“Nesta,” he rasped, letting her do as she wanted with him. His throat bobbed, and she leaned in to kiss it, relishing in his muscles tightening beneath her.

It wasn’t enough. She leaned forward and kissed him once on the lips before releasing him and kneeling on the ground before him.

His eyebrow raised in amusement. “What do you think you’re doing, Nes?”

“I’d think that’s rather obvious,” she replied, leaning down until her lips were right over the head of his cock. 

Her hands ran up the inside of his thighs until her right one gripped his base, giving it a gentle squeeze. She nearly got her tongue on him before his hand was wrapped in her hair at the base of her skull, pulling her head away from him with a simple tug.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said, snarling slightly. “Princesses don’t get on their knees.”

Cassian pulled her up to his level, likely assessing what, exactly, he wanted to do with her.

“I should return the favor, shouldn’t I?” she asked, her tone light. “You’re making me think you don’t want my mouth on you.”

His gaze intensified. “I never said that.”

“That’s too bad for you then, isn’t it?” she teased. “Poor Cassian, not getting what he wants–”

He silenced her with another tug to her hair, fingers tightening until the feeling bordered on pain. His hazel eyes glinted as she saw him formulating his plan.

“Such a brat,” he muttered. “Fine, sweetheart. You want to suck my cock so bad? You’ll do it from your throne.”

She was about to ask him what he meant by that until he dragged them both back across the bed. Cassian laid on his back, pulling her thighs over him so they rested on either side of his face. 

“Sit.”

He used his demanding tone that she rarely heard, the one that sent shivers down her spine, and forced her down so that she hovered right over his face.

Holding her leg steady with one hand, he used the other to push her down so her mouth was right in front of his cock, his instructions clear. 

The last thing he said before pulling her onto his face completely was, “I assume you know what to do.”

***

He had her one more time on that bed before they pulled themselves off of each other. After she took him in her mouth, she’d laid down on his chest until she felt him pressing against her once more.

All it took was one amused glance, one twinkle of her eye, for Cassian to flip them over, snarling as he held her hands over her head.

And the rest…Well. She supposed if they had a lifetime together, she could grow used to wasting hours in bed, feeling Cassian move in her.

If she had to.

The sun was fading, flickering through the leaves of the forest when they finally cleaned themselves off and managed to get their clothes back on.

“We should go back,” she said. “I imagine my father will want to have a ceremony in the next few days.”

And she wanted it, too. Even if she hadn’t just brought him to her bed, she’d want him at her side sooner rather than later anyway. Permanently.

She’d fought her feelings towards him since she met him, and she was tired of it. She wanted the entire world to know that this was the man she had chosen, that he was the man she loved.

“It’ll be strange going home,” she said, looking out the window to the field outside the cottage. 

A part of her would always love it here. It was her home when nowhere else seemed to be, and for that, she would always be grateful.

But everything didn’t always have to stay the same.

“I can see why,” Cassian said, agreeing. “It’s nice here, though. We don’t have to stay at the castle, not if you don’t want to.”

“I like it here, too,” she said, looking back at him. “Maybe we could come back here, some of the time.”

“We will.” Cassian extended a hand, waiting for her to take it. “Ready?” he asked.

With one last glance around the cottage, she slid her hand into his. The smile he gave her was warm, bright, as her fingers wrapped around his, and he guided her towards the door.

Something pulled at her. Not at her heart, but the source of her power—

Nesta stopped, and put her other hand to his chest. “Wait.”

Someone was here. The magic of her wards alerted her to their presence. The sensation was neither glowing and warm like with Cassian, or chipped and cold like Kallon and the others. It was…perfectly neutral. 

“We need to start heading back, sweetheart,” he murmured. “It’s going to get dark soon.”

“No, I know. But someone’s here.”

She moved to the window, looking to see who had ventured in. At the very perimeter of the fence were two knights, donned in leather armor that allowed them to move freely.

The wards let them through, and they tackled each other to the ground just as they got beyond the fence.

“I got here first, asshole,” the dark haired one said, climbing on top of the other red haired knight.

“I don’t think that makes much of a difference,” the one on the bottom said with a sneer.

“Do you know them?” she asked over her shoulder.

“That’s Sir Azriel,” he said, pointing at the dark haired one. “And the other is Sir Lucien.”

“And? Tell me of them.”

She looked back, to where his eyebrows had bunched on his forehead. “They’re both good,” he seemed to settle on. “I’m partial to Az because he’s like a brother, but they’d both be good to her. And they’re both fond of her, I know.”

With any other man, she would not have believed the words so easily. But he was Cassian, and she found that she trusted his input, and valued the truths that he spoke. So she turned on her heel, grabbing Ataraxia as she made her way outside.

They were too consumed in their brawl to notice her approach. “You want to marry Elain?” she asked.

Both of the men straightened up in her presence, as if they were two boys caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

The one with red hair—Sir Lucien—cleared his throat, and said, “Yes, my lady.”

She was silent for a few moments, giving the pretense that she was deliberating. Then, she threw Ataraxia onto the grass.

“Figure it out amongst yourselves,” she said. “I have somewhere to be.”

***

It didn’t take long for the two knights to scramble off, dashing back into the forest. When she could no longer see them, Cassian joined her outside, and they once again prepared to depart.

Nesta patted Ruby’s nose as Cassian tacked her up. She admired the way he bent over, how a few stray curls made their way free from how he had it haphazardly tied behind his head.

Ruby pushed into her hand, looking for treats. “She likes me better,” Nesta said.

“She does not.” Cassian ducked under her neck, fixing the saddle on the other side. “Speaking of pets, what’s Bryaxis going to do while we’re gone?”

“Oh, I don’t feed him,” Nesta said. “There’s nothing I can catch that he’d be that interested in, anyway.”

Cassian visibly shuddered, looking up from where he tightened one of the leather straps. “Your cat freaks me out.”

“Again, not a cat.”

“Yes. He’s made that perfectly clear, thanks.”

She chuckled. “He likes you, at least. If he didn’t, he would’ve torn you up ages ago.”

“Reassuring.” Cassian stepped back, patting Ruby’s neck as he joined her. “I’m not going to ask how you came into the possession of a beast that takes the form of a common house cat, because I have a feeling it’s a long story.” He kissed her cheek. “And one that you’ll tell me eventually.”

She thought of the story—of how she’d tracked down the beast in the darkest parts of the forest. Offered him the hearts of the cowardly men who trespassed and overstayed their welcome, and a warm roof over his head, in exchange for the protection that came with his fangs and claws.

A symbiotic relationship, if she had to put a word to it.

“You would be right.”

Cassian merely waved it off, and motioned for her to step to the horse’s side.

He placed her on the saddle, leading the two of them through the forest by the reins. He kept his hand at his sword, as if expecting some threat to appear. She wondered if he was always this way when he ventured through the trees, or if it was different, now that she sat on Ruby’s back.

His more than occasional glance over his shoulder confirmed there may have been some merit to the latter.

When the forest cleared, he joined her in the saddle. She felt the warmth almost immediately as Cassian pressed up against her back, drawing her closer to him with an arm around her waist. Her body relaxed into his, letting him steer Ruby closer to the castle gates. Towards home.

Ruby ran through the grass, and Cassian kept his grip firmly around her, not willing to let her go. And all too soon, they passed underneath the first of the gates, towards the edges of the city.

Knowing he was behind her gave her the confidence to bring down her hood, letting the fabric down to her shoulders.

The sun streamed down, a delicate warmth in the setting light as they walked the cobblestone streets. There were women unclipping the last of their laundry from the lines and putting them into baskets, and the children in the streets paused in their playing, peering at her while Cassian clicked his tongue, urging Ruby along.

Some of the kids ran off, returning with their friends, their mothers, their fathers.

Slowly, the pool of people became larger, thicker, as they emerged from their homes to see who Cassian brought home.

They loved him, she realized. The children watched him with awe, at the show of strength he displayed. They looked up to him.

There was no one better suited for it.

“Nervous?” he asked, tightening his arm slightly around her.

She scowled. “No.”

Even though he couldn’t see her do it, he chuckled at the tone of her voice anyways. “They’re excited to see you.” He leaned in even closer. “Their princess, the woman I am to marry.”

A moment later, “The woman that I love.”

Something about how he said it in her ear, the low gravel, the assurance, had her taking in a sharp breath. Only he could say things like that, could take her apart with just a simple statement.

She wasn’t used to a man being so…steady. Immovable as her insecurities crashed, unyielding in his affection.

It was everything she loved about him.

They spent the rest of the ride in a comfortable silence, and Nesta even dared to smile at some of the folks they passed on their way, giving polite dips of her chin to those that waved. Those looks of shock turned to fondness—that Cassian had found happiness. 

Fondness that was extended to her, even though they barely knew her.

Cassian guided Ruby into the castle courtyard, where the sound of clashing steel echoed over the stone. He dismounted first, his thighs flexing as he landed in the dirt. Then he brought his hands to her waist, lifting her from the saddle with ease. 

He placed her down right in front of him.

“I can get off of a horse myself,” she said.

“Can you?” he whispered. His hands lingered on her waist a few seconds longer than he needed to, though Nesta couldn’t say that she minded. “I wouldn’t want you to fall, sweetheart.”

Maybe he just liked having her close. He’d been that way with her all day, not letting her out of arm’s reach for more than a few minutes. 

With heated cheeks, she realized the rest of the knights were watching. Despite pretending they were busy training, or talking with each other, she knew they were watching every single moment of this interaction.

He cleared his throat. With a flourish, he bowed and brought her hand to his lips.

His eyes flickered up, hazel dancing through his dark eyelashes, and all she could think about was how those eyes met hers in the same way only that morning, his lips on a decidedly less honorable place.

He seemed to remember it too, the corner of his mouth rising into a smirk.

“My lady,” he murmured against her skin.

She fought her blush with everything she had, but she still felt it painting her cheeks. “Don’t call me that.”

Cassian’s grin was a feral thing. “My apologies,” he drawled, “princess.”

Oh, mother.

Princess. The word echoed around the courtyard, whispered from one person to the next. It didn’t surprise her. She hadn’t been seen here in any formal capacity for years, after all. It was too much to ask for her return to be…quiet.

No one dared to approach, though, only looking in with shock, frozen in her peripheral.

Rhys found them first, arching a singular brow when he saw Nesta on Cassian’s arm. 

She’d met the arrogant asshole years ago, when she’d knocked him down a peg in front of his father. He hadn’t seemed to like that.

He seemed to recognize her as well, his gaze hardening as he approached.

He bowed his head, offering deference. “Princess Nesta.”

“Sir Rhysand.”

“Come, now. Only my enemies call me that.” 

Her brow lifted. “And you have many of those?”

His teeth glinted as he gave her a cruel looking smile. “Some things never change, I see.”

Cassian threw his arm around Nesta almost immediately, stroking his fingers against her as he held her in his steady grip.

“Rhys,” he said, a cautious edge to his voice that she wasn’t familiar with. “I’d like to introduce you to my future wife.”

She looked up at him, noticed the set of his jaw in a firm expression. Cassian had his brow raised at Rhys, almost as if daring him to say something.

Drawing his line in the sand. 

Rhys blinked. He paused, his mind thinking, before nodding slowly. “Congratulations to you both. I suppose I’ll be your brother in law soon in more ways than one.”

Cassian noticeably relaxed, the arm around her shifting more towards a touch of affection, rather than a protective one. As if Rhys would be able to harm her, anyway. Even though she didn’t technically need it, the gesture was nice, regardless.

It took a couple of seconds for the words to register. “Feyre?” she asked.

“Yes. We’re to be wed.”

“How the hell did you get her to agree?” Cassian asked. “Last you told me, things were…” he grimaced beside her. “Rocky, if I recall.”

Of all things, Rhys looked away and blushed. “A story for another time.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. If the red mark on his neck was anything to go by, there was more to the situation than he let on. She’d be talking to Feyre later, to get the details. Although, she didn’t have too much room to judge given the way she had let Cassian have her just that morning.

“Nesta!” Feyre dashed down the palace steps, running towards her.

She slammed into her, hugging her as if she hadn’t seen her in years. Maybe…maybe she’d spent too much time away from this place.

Nesta hugged her back. “Hi, Feyre.”

Feyre leaned back, and beamed. “Welcome home.”

***

Nesta’s father smiled broadly when he saw that she’d chosen Cassian. She’d noticed him fidgeting and trying to hide the nervousness from his smiles ever since he broke apart from his conversation with Rhys, and part of her knew that he was terrified of the judgment her father would give.

He’d told her of the insecurities he faced, of being looked down on in the knighthood for his lower status. She hadn’t cared one bit, even though her mother had insisted once that only a duke or a prince would ever suit her. But the woman was dead, and couldn’t input her opinions anymore.

And quite frankly, Nesta hadn’t paid any mind to her words after her mother sent her away. 

Her father welcomed him with open arms, though, saying he was glad to have Cassian as a son. She could have sworn Cassian froze as the man hugged him, eyes comically wide, before returning the gesture. 

Then her father proclaimed they would be wed the following night.

That evening, they ate and they drank as they celebrated the upcoming union. And when Nesta’s mind started to go blurry, Cassian guided her from her seat, gently holding her wrists and saying she’d had enough.

They were set up in different rooms the night before. It was tradition, and as far as everyone knew, Nesta was still virtuous. 

So while the hall was rowdy and chatter made its way through the halls, Cassian led her to her room and paused in the doorway. His was right across from her—so they wouldn’t truly be too far apart, but it felt like it regardless.

He drew her close and placed a kiss on her forehead. “This’ll be our last night apart, princess. I promise,” he said.

She grabbed his wrist, trying to pull him inside. But he stopped her with an easy flex of his muscles, not letting himself be persuaded otherwise.

“You’re drunk,” he said, chuckling. “We’ll play all you want later. Get some rest, you’re going to need it tomorrow.”

They shared one last kiss before he broke away, Cassian pressing his forehead to hers, and Nesta longed for the following night. When she could drag him into her room, and no one would blink an eye.

She watched his retreating form reach his door before she closed her own. And when the world had gone quiet, and she made her way into her bed, she shut her eyes.

***

Nesta ran her hands over the smooth fabric of her gown. For the wedding being this last minute, it was perfect—a satin gown of deep red that she knew Cassian would nearly weep over.

Two ladies from the palace pinned small braids atop her head into an updo that weaved across itself. While she typically favored her coronet, this seemed to suit the occasion. 

They were twins, from the look of it. They chattered as they worked, and Nesta was content to let them gossip the morning away. 

She had years of gossip to catch up on, after all.

“Could you give us a minute?”

Feyre’s voice was the last thing she expected to hear. In the mirror, she could see her sister standing in the doorway, paused by a slight hesitation and an unsure smile.

“Feyre.”

The ladies left the room silently, bowing their heads as they passed her sister. Feyre took a seat on the settee in the corner.

“You look beautiful,” Feyre said.  “Cassian’s a very lucky man.”

Nesta snorted. “It depends on how you look at it, I suppose.” 

“I think we’ll have to disagree on that,” she said lightly. Feyre stalled for a minute. “Elain arrived back today.”

“Did she?” Nesta’s mouth curved up. “With a suitor in hand?”

“With two.” She heard Feyre shifting in her seat. “It’s caused quite a scandal. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Nesta hummed. “I might have been a little distracted.”

“With a certain hulking knight?” Nesta lifted her eyebrows, meeting her sister’s inquisitive look through the mirror. But her sister waved it off. “I’m the last person to judge. Those three can be…persuasive,” she clarified. 

Nesta just stared for a moment, unused to the openness between them. The familiarity in the words. But she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “That’s one way to describe it.” Her eyes crinkled with it, and she said, “I’ve missed you, Feyre.”

Feyre’s expression turned hopeful. “Does this mean you’re going to come back home?”

“Can I say that I haven’t decided yet?” Nesta asked. Her shoulders tensed slightly, waiting for her sister’s response. Not that she thought Feyre would cast her off, but…

She’d seen the look of disappointment on Feyre’s face too many times to count, on the days where her little sister begged her to stay instead of returning to the forest. She’d always hated being the cause of it.

But Feyre merely smiled. “You’d make a wonderful queen,” she offered. “If you want a reason to stay.”

“I always thought you would,” Nesta rebutted. “You’ve always been brave, when I never was.”

“Well, that’s not true in the slightest,” Feyre said. “You were always my big sister. Nothing could scare you. Plus,” Feyre added, “You have no trouble keeping all those knights in line. I think you could manage to rule a kingdom.”

“I’m not certain I wish to,” Nesta admitted. “Listen, Feyre. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here, that I didn’t—”

“Don’t,” Feyre said, cutting her off. “I get it, Nesta, I do. It sucked, but I understand why you stayed away.” Her sister stood, joining her in front of the mirror. The next thing she knew, Feyre had wrapped her in a hug, holding her tightly against herself. “I just hope it doesn’t always have to be that way.”

They broke apart, and as Feyre held her hand, her smile still on her face, Nesta couldn’t help but agree.

***

Their wedding took place that evening. 

The first thing that Nesta thought when she saw Cassian standing at the altar was that for once, he was polished. She knew he was nobility, that he was the son of a lord, but this was the first time that he truly looked the part.

He’d always been beautiful in the rugged way, like he was carved from stone. Like the gods themselves had crafted him in their hands. It was the sort of beauty that was wild, that was not meant to be kept behind palace gates.

Today, though, that wild hair was contained behind his head. Instead of armor, he donned his court finery: nice pants and a black tunic with silver embroidered on the edges. Over top, he wore a dark red jacket. Simple, but elegant.

His mouth broke into a wide grin when he saw her at the door. And she found her heart filled with hope, with every step that she took towards him.

It went faster than what she wanted. A priestess named Gwyn tied their hands together with a white ribbon. His palm was beneath hers as she promised her undying devotion, and he squeezed her hand as he did the same. 

His voice wavered as he repeated the words, sparing no attention for the crowd that had formed beyond them, curious to see their princess again. No, it was fully on her. His eyes locked on her own, tears swimming with the hazel, swearing off all others and tying his life to hers. 

She watched as those tears formed fully, streaming down his face as he finished the words, and the priestess started her speech.

And before she knew it, Nesta was declared his wife.

He smiled into their kiss. Chaste, and merely a promise of what was to come later, when she had him alone.

The last few days had been a whirlwind, but Cassian’s hands kept her steady, gentle as they held each other in silent embrace where they stood. The guests began to filter out, but Cassian took the moment to hold her there with him, only separating from her to cup her face in his hands.

“You look beautiful today,” he murmured.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” She reached up to wipe those tears away. “Let’s go make an appearance, husband.”

***

The mid summer breeze was cool when they stepped outside of the temple. There were cheers as they walked through the courtyard and into the great hall, which was bedecked for the celebration.

Despite the short turnaround, Nesta’s father went all out: there was a feast that could feed hundreds, with a roasted pig and barrels of mulled wine that filled goblet after goblet along the walls.

Cassian didn’t hesitate to spin her around and around on the dance floor, and when the guests were distracted he pulled her into an empty alcove where only the echoes of the music could find them.

She half expected him to kiss her right then and there. He hadn’t touched her in over a day, and he was probably as restless as she was. 

He offered her his hand instead, leading her into him gently as the orchestra began another tune. She raised a questioning eyebrow.

“One dance, just the two of us. With no one watching,” he explained.

Her heart melted a bit at that. He pulled her in closer, humming softly to the music that played while they swayed together. 

And although knowing the little things would come over following months, and years, she felt at home in his arms. She knew him. Her soul knew his, connected on some level that she couldn’t explain. Maybe it didn’t need an explanation.

Nesta wasn’t afraid of what she saw. And neither was he.

People she hadn’t seen in years came up to congratulate them as the night went on. With each interaction, her back tensed up tighter and tighter, until Cassian finally took notice and drew her away.

“Should we turn in for the night?”

She blushed slightly, imagining what the guests might say about their early departure. But she found she didn’t care about it in the slightest. She nodded, and his hand slid to the small of her back as he led them to their quarters for the night.

Once he shut the door, Cassian kissed her once, twice before slowly turning her around so she faced away from him.

He started undoing the buttons down her back, his large fingers struggling to separate the tiny things from the fabric that held them together.

“Who designed this?” he asked, curiosity lacing his tone. “The enemy of husbands everywhere.”

She stifled her laugh, trying to stay as still as possible. “It’s part of the wedding night experience, struggling to get your bride’s dress off her.”

“I think you’d be disappointed, sweetheart, if I struggled too much to get it off.”

She was just glad he hadn’t gone the route of ripping it off her body. Though, to be fair, he’d nearly done it the morning before. He was more in control today, content to enjoy the moments of the day as they happened.

And she liked this dress. She was glad it wouldn’t become a pile of shredded fabric, destroyed by a man with no taste.

Once he got it to a point where he could, Cassian pushed the dress off of her shoulders, but there were still buttons going all the way down to her waist.

“At this rate, it'll take all night,” she muttered.

“It’s ok, Nes. I’m a patient man.” His breath was right there, hitting the ridge of her ear. “I’ll have you in that bed soon enough.”

“Something tells me you’re not patient at all.”

“You’re in a mood today, aren’t you?” Cassian bent over then, picking up the bottom hem of the gown and bunching it around her waist. “Since I’m apparently so impatient, maybe I should just fuck you in this.”

She whimpered softly, letting her head fall back to rest on his shoulder. Which he took advantage of. He hummed, leaning in to press his lips into the side of her neck. Her cheek. Her ear. 

“Is that how you want it, Nes? Rough and uncontrolled?” 

“I—” Nesta could barely speak.

Even though she couldn’t see it, she could feel the smirk that graced his lips. “Where do you want me to take you, then? The desk? The wall?” He nipped at the bottom of her ear. “The floor?”

“That’ll destroy your knees.”

“So be it.”

Before he could begin his plan, though, Nesta turned in his hold. She took his chin in her hand, pressed between firm fingers, holding him right where she wanted. His smile only grew.

“Maybe I wish to take you.”

“I don’t think you could manage it,” he teased.

She hummed, considering, then gave a gentle tug with her hand. She watched intently as he bent over, amused as the large, hulky knight that was her husband allowed himself to be pulled without complaint. 

“I’m going to be on top,” she said.

One slow hand ran down her back. “Are you?”

The flecks of green in his eyes sparkled in the candlelight, like tiny stars that were only hers to look at. They roved over her. “In the dress, I hope?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes, despite knowing she didn’t want to go through the process of taking it off, either.

“Lie down, husband, so I can have my way with you.”

She caught the hitch of his breath, the indication that he was just as excited about the prospect as she was.

He took off his jacket first.

Then, with a fluid motion, he tugged his shirt over his head, revealing the prominent lines of muscles on his abdomen. Which he made sure to flex as he dragged the shirt from his shoulders.

Her mouth parted, struck by the beauty of her husband. Everything from his tanned skin, to the stunning hazel of his eyes, to the jawline that could forge steel. 

He undid his hair, and it fell into its normal waves. All of the heat she normally felt when she looked at him intensified, and he smirked.

He took a step back towards the bed. “Whatever you command, wife.”

***

She didn’t know if she would ever get used to how sweet he could be after they came together.

He kissed her softly, worshiping her like a goddess, and asking if she needed any water, or food, or blankets. Even though she had been the one to ride him until he couldn’t think straight, holding his release with an unrelenting grip until he begged her for it, somehow he was still taking care of her.

She’d collapsed next to him, stray hair from her updo sticking to the sides of her face from sweat. He’d brushed them away, his soothing hands running over her skin, lingering at the dress still bunched at her torso. “Let’s get this off of you, yeah? I wouldn’t want it to be ruined.”

He carefully undid the last of her buttons so that it could slide down past her hips. Then she was bare, and she realized as he held it out to her that he’d brought over a shirt for her to change into, one of his. She blinked away tears as large hands found each of the pins in her hair, removing them and letting it cascade down her back. He ran his fingers through it, combing out the tangles that had gathered over the course of the day, with a heartbreaking tenderness.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked, once he’d hung the dress on the chair in the corner, returning to the bed with her. “I know that was intense.”

She was still tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure, but Nesta found she was completely relaxed. “I’m perfect,” she said. “Come to bed with me, Cassian.”

She grabbed his hand, pulling him beside her, and they made their way under the covers.

“No one else,” he said. “For either of us.”

“No one else,” she replied. With one more kiss before she settled, Nesta said, “Cassian. I love you.”

Her brave knight hummed, and his steady arms were around her once again. This was right where she belonged. The thought came to her as her eyes drifted closed, as she burrowed deeper into the warmth of his body.

“I love you too, Nesta,” he whispered, as she teetered on the edge of being asleep.

It was the last thing she recalled, before she dipped into unconsciousness. And while she safely slept in Cassian’s arms, she couldn’t deny the pure contentment that flowed through her.

[villainofmyownstory]

Day Zero

chapter 1: The First One

masterlist taglist

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pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: Ghost and his dog Riley regularly patrol the city. A man has his own routine, every day, for almost 2 years, has to look the same. The man knows that he cannot change his behavior because deep down he still feels that someone will answer his radio signal. He doesn't lose hope. However, exactly 730 days after "Day Zero", no one shows up at the transmitter mast. Just when you finally get there. You've been trying to get here for weeks, seeing a tower in the distance. You needed electricity, and the tower had a source of light every night. And so each of you, individually, still thinks that you are the only one alive.

Chapter 1: The First One

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Day 729

Ghost & Riley

5:43 a.m., the black Gamin watch on the man's right hand started ringing. In exactly 25 minutes, the sun will rise and Ghost will be able to leave the safety of his home and begin his daily routine.

This morning is definitely warmer than the previous ones. Getting out of bed, the man decides that in the evening he will cover some of the solar panels, so that excess energy for heating will no longer be needed. He preferred to keep some panels unused in case others failed. He couldn't find any more panels in the city, so unfortunately he had to settle for the few he found in recent months.

Riley ran to the man's leg, growling quietly, he had been extremely excited since the morning.

“What's up Riley?” Ghost stroked the dog behind the ear and spoke softly to him.

This dog had been the only living thing he could talk to for almost two years. It was actually a monologue, but Ghost knew that his beloved dog understood him and even though they didn't speak the same language, they understood each other perfectly.

The man also knew that he had to try to remain civilized, speaking, listening and behaving as he had before Day Zero. After years in the army, he remembered what soldiers released after years of captivity looked like. Who were locked in isolation for long months in small, dark cells. They were quickly losing their minds.

And he had to remain human. Despite everything.

Every day, after getting up and taking a quick bathroom break, Ghost would do some exercises to wake up. And be in good shape all the time. Unfortunately, his supplies of black tea were slowly running out and surprisingly there were few tea lovers in this damn city. He never drank coffee, so physical activity had to be enough for him to overcome sleepiness.

Once he put on his old military clothes and took his gun from the safe, he headed to the kitchen, taking a few military biscuits that he used to eat during his morning routine.

"Riley come on, it's time for patrol" the dog wagged his tail and ran to his master, waiting for Ghost to put a tactical harnesses and leash on him.

On his way out, Ghost checked the surveillance cameras he had installed around the house. The area looked like any other day. Intact. For a split second he felt disappointed, he was under the illusion that he was not the only one alive in this world.

Getting into the black Ford Ranger pickup truck, he checked the gas level in the canisters in the back and the air in the tires. Everything was in order. When Riley jumped on the back trunk and Ghost checked if the dog was safe, he got into the car and slowly drove away, looking around the surrounding area. Today he was going to the eastern part of the city, there were a few houses on the outskirts that he didn't check. As the days were getting longer, he could afford to travel further and plunder new abandoned houses.

When he reached one of his checkpoints, Riley on the trunk started barking and wanted to jump down to the ground. The man, concerned about the dog's behavior, quickly stopped at one of the dead ends. The dog barked and wagged his tail, staring as if in a trance, his attention focused towards the west.

“Riley calm down, Riley!”

Ghost quickly jumped onto the trunk and grabbed the dog by the collar, trying to calm animal down and direct its attention to himself. The dog barked louder and louder and suddenly growled in a way he had never heard before. Ghost froze, he had never seen such aggression from his dog before.

“Riley, sit down. Riley!”

man's voice trembled with growing fear, despite this he tried to pronounce the commands in a loud and decisive tone. Ghost was afraid that the dog might have gotten sick, maybe he had been bitten by some sick animal during one of the patrols in a new area and the wound was so small that Ghost he missed it. Even though he checked Riley every day after every patrol. He couldn't lose his only family member. Only friend.

Suddenly the dog calms down. He sat on his hind legs and, panting slightly, looked at his owner with peace in his eyes

“Bloody hell Riley, what the fuck was that?”

Ghost shook his head disapprovingly, looking up at the dog, patting it on the belly and stroking it for a while. After making sure that the dog had calmed down, the man returned to the car and drove again, glancing at the dog in the rear-view mirror from time to time. Fortunately, the rest of the journey passed peacefully, without any strange incidents.

Ghost drove in silence with the car windows open, looking around the suburbs. The eastern part of the city was mainly inhabited by elites, wealthier people from the upper classes.

Was.

Ghost, remembering his old life, felt that he didn't miss it. Money, power, fame. He never aspired to it and didn't need it, but in connection with his work he often had contact with rich people and it was difficult for him to come to terms with them. He could never get along with them. So now, after so many days since Day Zero, looking at the empty large villas, he smiled to himself. People had so much in the past, they were concerned with getting rich, making more and more money. And what did they need it for? Now they were all dead. And large houses and expensive cars stood empty, deteriorating under the influence of the seasons.

When the former soldier reached the house he had last checked, he parked close to a large tree so that the car was hidden in the shade. He opened the trunk lid for Riley to jump down and search the front and back of the house first. Nothing really bad ever happened, no evil awaited them during the day.

But Ghost wanted his four-legged friend to feel important and appreciated. If only his life would be no different from the one before Day Zero. Even though the man was not sure whether the dog had previously served in the army, from the first day they met the man checked and was happy to find that Riley was well trained. Its previous owner must have taken care of it. Ghost was very grateful to this person.

Whoever that person was.

When the dog returned happily wagging his tail and meekly stood next to the man's right leg, it was a signal that the area was checked and safe. Ghost took a bag of raw meat from his tactical vest pocket and gave a piece of it to the dog as a reward

“Good boy” as he said this he patted the dog affectionately on the head and added

“Watch the door Riley, I'll be right back.”

Ghost easily entered the white house, which was small compared to other houses in the area. Knowing that the owners would not come back to it anyway, he simply broke the glass in the door and turned the lock from the inside.

It took him less than 10 minutes to search the house, and as he thought, unfortunately for him, he found nothing important. It was one of those houses where wealthy owners come for a few days a year when they had to do something in the city. Ghost found some bandages, batteries, two cans of beans and a package of pasta. He packed everything into a backpack and took a large pillow from the couch.

Something for Riley.

Leaving the villa, he looked around the area, the sun was shining more and more strongly and Ghost basked in the sun for a few seconds, closing his eyes for a moment. Waiting for Riley to run up to him. However, none of this happened.

"Riley, come on..."

Ghost said calmly, patting his thigh to encourage the dog to come to him.

Silence. No movement.

“Oh, come on boy, I've got something for you..” the soldier opened his eyes and stepped off the porch, looking around the front lawn.

For the first time in over 700 days, Ghost felt panic rising.

Riley was nowhere to be found.

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Day 730

You

The next day of walking was so tiring that you took each step slowly with a grimace on your face. Your feet are so injured that your white Converse shoes are not only dirty with dust and brown soil, but also have red stains on them.

You don't have the strength to walk anymore. You wipe the sweat from your forehead, straightening the old t-shirt that serves as a makeshift head cover. The days are getting hotter and the journey during the day is torture.

“Maybe I'll finally lose weight”

you mutter under your breath, standing in the shadow for a moment. The large billboard that stands in the western part of the city is slightly damaged. The advertisement for the movie, which premiered over two years ago, is slightly faded and torn.

You fan your face with your hand, hoping it will bring you some relief.

Even though almost two years have passed since Day Zero, you have not lost the excess weight, and walking in full sun was a real horror for you. Dropping your backpack at your feet, you take out a half-full bottle of water and take a few sips. Even the water in the bottle is warm.

You sigh and look around. Nevertheless, despite all the horror that took place so many days ago, the outskirts of this city do not look damaged or well-kept. Even in your previous life - as you call it - you had never been to this area. Maybe it would be worth looking around a bit, maybe you will find a working car. Or at least a bicycle.

The tingling and stinging in your feet constantly reminded you how hurt and bloody your feet were. But you had to get to the transmission tower. You had seen it for so many days and you knew there was electricity there. Even on a rainy night, the lights from the tower were visible from many miles away. You were hoping that you would be able to charge the electronics you collected two years ago and maybe you would finally hear a human voice. Some signal of life.

You couldn't be the only survivor on this earth.

After a moment of rest, you moved further west, the sun was shining stronger and higher. It must have been close to twelve o'clock. You wanted to reach the tower before sunset, hoping that apart from metal bars and many cables, there would be a technical building where you could spend the night and charge your equipment.

Life before Day Zero was kind and happy for you. However, after that day it was a fight for survival. You were suddenly alone, without family or friends. You were on your own for the first time in your life. And you weren't the survival type. You lived comfortably all your life and could count on family members. Walking towards the mast, you had time for further thoughts. After all, what else are you left with? You haven't seen a human in 2 years.

Alive, to be more precise.

You were having conversations in your head, speaking quietly to yourself every few days as if you were afraid that your vocal cords would grow together or that you would simply forget what it's like to be human. The silence of the desolate world scared you at first, sleepless nights and fear during the day accompanied you in the first year. It was only when you found a bigger city and nice, undamaged houses and moved into one of them, collecting found food and useful items, that you finally started to calm down and sleep through the nights.

However, when the batteries in the device ran out, the water in the tap stopped flowing, and the winter at home became so cold that you might as well have slept outside, because the temperature difference was practically negligible, you decided to head west.

One night, when a snowstorm and strong wind opened one window in the attic and you went to close it at least temporarily and secure it to prevent snow from entering the house, you noticed a flashing light on the horizon in the distance.

At first you thought it was just a hallucination. Maybe you didn't eat enough or ate some spoiled food and your eyesight is playing tricks on you. But as you stood there and looked out the open window. To the west, a small light kept flickering in the distance. And the next day and the next. And finally the next week too.

When more than a month had passed and the weather had finally normalized, you decided to pack the most necessary items and go in that direction.

It had to be some kind of sign.

Some miracle.

During those nights when you were waiting for the weather to allow you to travel on foot, you imagined many scenarios. You felt excited and happy. Hope. Maybe you weren't the only living person in this world, maybe there were other people that close. This thought kept you alive.

Thanks to this thought, after so many days of traveling with injured legs, you were finally close to your destination. You had to get there and see with your own eyes that you weren't crazy after all and that the red and white tower was a signpost that someone maintained to let you know that he was also here, that he was alive.

When you finally reached the fence, you didn't even notice that your emotions and tiredness had won and tears were rolling down your cheeks.

You were so very happy. So close to the goal.

The gate to the tower was padlocked.

“Fuck!”

you screamed, struggling against the metal fence. You stood there sobbing, not knowing how to get to the other side. It was impossible to climb the fence. Firstly, it was too high, secondly, there was barbed wire at the top and thirdly, you physically couldn't do it. You were too fat to pull your body up over the fence.

When you finally calmed down and wiped your tears, you walked away from the fence and noticed that next to one of the fence posts there was a piece of paper attached with a red material.

You froze.

You quickly pulled a piece of paper from behind the ribbon and unwrapped the paper with trembling hands:

“If anyone is reading this, it means I'm not alone here. You survived just like me.

My name is Ghost.

I have shelter, food and other necessary items to survive. If you are looking for help, wait here. I come to the towers every day, every day of the year. Right at noon and I've been waiting for an hour..."

You quickly looked at your watch and froze… 12:23…. No, it's impossible, you've been here for a long time, you must have seen someone, you wanted to cry again. It can't be true that the only living thing, ironically calling itself Ghost, didn't show up today. Just when you came here. Maybe you missed each other? Maybe you were here for a few minutes after all. There was hope. You were supposed to spend the night here anyway, so if by some miracle you two missed each other, there was a chance to meet the owner of this letter tomorrow.

You looked at the piece of paper again:

“...and I've been waiting for an hour.

However, if you have no good intentions and are counting on your own survival, I have to worry you. In my previous life I killed more people than you can count, now, apart from things to survive, I have a weapon with me and I know how to use it quickly.

Wait here, and until I appear, don't be afraid, because you will hear and see my dog…Riley.”

With your heart beating strongly, you finished reading the letter.

Your mind didn't even have time to fully read the content of the letter when a large German shepherd ran out from the west wing of the fence, barking loudly.

This couldn't be true.

When you turned towards the dog, you froze.

“Oh my God…Riley…boy”

It was your dog. Who disappeared on Day Zero.

And now, after 730 days, he was running towards you.

Your beloved dog has been found.

[lau219]

Enemies with Benefits

Part 21: (1 of 2)

Previous part here

I know I said that this chapter would be where we see some real vulnerability from Tommy, but I decided to split this chapter up. So here’s part 1 of 2. Part 2 coming very soon!

…………………………………………………………………………….

“Look, what’s done is done, Tommy,” Polly said as she stood near the window in Tommy’s office, resting against the sill as she looked at him from across the room. “He’s already here, Arthur’s already given him the money. So the question now is, how do we move forward?”

Still looking at Tommy, Polly raised her cigarette to her lips as she waited for him to respond.

Sitting in his desk chair, Tommy was faced in Polly’s general direction, but rather than looking at her, he was focusing on the wall just beyond her shoulder, trying to force himself to calm down. Everything that was happening causing the blood in his veins to boil and rush, and he wasn’t sure he was able to speak yet without yelling.

Arthur. Fucking Arthur. The fucking moron was absolutely brainless.

After all these years, after all the false claims and repeated broken promises, he still yearned for their father’s attention and affection, and fell for it every time when Arthur Sr. would weasel his way back into their lives temporarily. Arthur always hoped and believed that their father actually cared for his children and that a reconciliation was in the cards, and every time, those hopes were quickly dashed when their father would yet again disappear as soon as he got whatever it was he really needed, once again dropping any and all contact for God knew how long, until the next time he’d inevitably present himself again.

The last time it happened, it had left a larger than ever dent in the family’s bank account and had thrown Arthur into an incredibly deep depression, not to mention causing the reactivation of Tommy’s involvement in multiple less-than-legal deals and connections that he’d spent the previous two years slowly trying to remove himself from. Arthur had yet again helped their father use their name and money to cover his ass for debts he owed and promises he’d broken to others.

Tommy had sworn that as soon as the latest bout was resolved, he’d make it so that all this could never happen again. Once he’d found out Ada was pregnant, Tommy had immediately begun the process of moving them all to the States. No way was he going to let all this keep happening and for his nephew to be subjected to the same toxic shit they all had been subjected to. He was ready to finally operate cleanly and never have to deal with their father again. It was time for a new chapter, which is what he’d promised himself the very first day he’d made the final return home from service. And then he’d finally accomplished it, cutting the old ties and creating a new home base for them all here, making his mark in more legal ways and managing to keep his father away for the last four years.

But apparently, four years was the longest Arthur was able to remember what a piece of shit their father was before forgetting again, and when he had evidently reached out to Arthur two months ago, Arthur had all too eagerly responded.

Just as he’d told Tommy, Arthur Sr. originally claimed the reason for his visit was that he wanted to meet his grandson and also congratulate his sons on their success and see for himself all that they’d accomplished. But, unable to hide his own idiocy, Arthur had admitted to the family the other day that he’d given their father over ten thousand dollars to pay off multiple gambling debts he’d been unable to talk himself out of back in Birmingham. And these apparently were debts that had formidable payees, some of whom Tommy was all too familiar with from his own previous interactions with them. They all knew the success Tommy had made himself, and therefore had granted his father the permission to head to the U.S. to get them the money he owed.

Upon learning what Arthur had done, Tommy had immediately frozen his ability to access or use any of the family accounts, and he'd warned John that if a single additional cent went unaccounted for, he'd cut him off, too. Over the last few days, Arthur and Tommy hadn't spoken or seen each other, as Arthur had made himself scarce since the reaming Tommy had given him. And although he'd gotten what he needed, their father was still hanging around, having joined Arthur wherever the hell it was he'd slunk off to.

As he'd told Y/N, Tommy had planned on giving him a very harsh piece of his mind and then sending him packing the couple days after he'd arrived. However, they ended up having not seen each other again yet, and it made Tommy all the more angry and tense that he was still around and undoubtedly filling Arthur's head with more bullshit.

"Stop stewing over this and just let it go," Polly spoke again then, cutting into Tommy's thoughts. "It's only ten grand."

Now moving his eyes to Polly, Tommy finally spoke.

"You think I give a fuck about the money?" he asked rhetorically, his voice filled with anger. "It's the fucking fact that he's here, that he's just stirring the pot and filling Arthur's head with bullshit, and that he fucks with everyone every Goddamn time and none of you ever seem to fucking comprehend that he's a waste of fucking life!"

Tommy's voice had risen the longer he'd spoke, and he felt his blood boiling again. For fuck's sake, why did Polly never get angry about the right stuff?

"Besides you, Thomas, no one knows better than me what a piece of shit your father is," Polly said then, keeping her cool as she took another drag from her cigarette and looked back at him. "But you can't undo what Arthur's done, and despite your best efforts to control him, you'll have to put a tracking device on that idiot if you want to keep him from ever engaging with your father again. I accepted a long time ago that it's pointless — he's never gonna give up the perfect picture of Daddy being who he wants him to be."

Tommy gave a bitter scoff, turning back to his desk and lighting a cigarette before he then replied to Polly.

"Well, he's gonna give it up. Because when they finally get back here, that perfect picture is gonna be lit on fucking fire."

Part 21: (2 of 2)

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[elizabethwritesmen]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜

chapter 1 - i remember everything

pairing: firefighter!steve x reader

summary: in high school, steve and y/n were the best of friends. now, she’s moved back to hawkins, and he hasn’t seen her since her graduation 7 years before.

warnings: smut to come in later chapters.

a/n: this is a christmas fic, split into parts. this part does not mention christmas because it is not christmas time yet. also, steve is 28 and reader is 25. this fic is basically a hallmark script but make it sexy and angsty. italics paragraphs are flashbacks. all parts will be out by december 25.

chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

I remembered everything.

The bumps in the driveway that tousled my car like a carnival ride. The sparkling lake glistening with the sun’s reflection, reminiscent of all the times I snuck out there with my friends for a swim in high school. The beautiful cabin, two story but still small and cozy, haunted by all the scary stories that were told in it by high school students goofing off because they didn’t know what real life was.

The crack in the window where Robin tripped and fell into it that never got fixed because we never told my parents.

The guitar picks Eddie left all over the place, never remembering to take them home with him.

The small stain on the carpet from where the kids spilled a beer they’d stolen.

The huge tree by the water with Steve’s name carved into it, right next to mine, and a poorly shaped heart scribbled beside them.

Yes, I remembered everything.

I sighed as I unpacked my boxes, putting things away where I thought they should go. I never thought I’d be back in Hawkins, and I hadn’t yet decided how I felt about it, but the cards were dealt to me so I had to play them. It wasn’t so bad, though. I moved away less than a week after I graduated high school thinking that if I went to college in another state and started a new life, I could get away scott free from the things that were weighing on me. But it doesn’t work that way. You never get away from matters of the heart. They stay, and stay, and stay.

I stopped abruptly when I heard a knock at the door, going to check it and seeing Robin standing on the porch. I opened it quickly, “Rob!” I exclaimed as I pulled her into a hug. She squeezed me back with just as much force.

“You’re really back,” she sighed, “Your mom told me you’d be here and I was worried it wasn’t true!”

“Well here I am,” I giggled, pulling away reluctantly and letting her in. She walked with me to the dining room table where I had my things laid out and started helping me put them away.

“So how was Florida?” She asked.

“Hot,” I blandly offered, and she laughed.

“Seriously. You disappear the day you graduate and I hear from you maybe four times before we lose touch. I wanna know everything!”

I sighed, pausing for a moment, “I’m sorry about that, Robin. I didn’t mean to disappear on you, you know you’re one of the best friends I’ll ever have and I love you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to apologize to me, honey. I was never mad at you, but only because I understood why you left. Steve and Eddie, though… they went through it for the first year you were gone. Don’t even get me started on the kids.”

“Eddie understood, I know he did. He knew I was leaving, he was the only person I told because he caught me talking about my plane ticket on the phone. And the kids would never have understood, they were too young. Just needing to get out for a while would’ve sounded like a lame excuse to them.”

“But you didn’t just need to get out for a while, you needed to get away from Steve for a while”

“That’s not the only reason.”

“But it was a reason. Right?”

Hesitantly and carefully, I answered her, “Yes. It was. I couldn’t keep letting him break my heart. I needed space.”

“You couldn’t have found space in Hawkins? You had to leave?”

“There was no space in Hawkins. Wherever I went, he found me. He never left me alone. Even when I asked him to.”

“Because he loved you.”

“But it wasn’t enough,” I sighed exasperatedly, “Can we talk about something else?”

“Of course,” she smiled, “We’ll discuss Steve more later.”

“No we won’t,” I rolled my eyes, tossing a trinket from one of the boxes at her. She dodged it with a laugh, carrying on the conversation.

“Really though, how was Florida?”

“It was good. I dunno, I don’t think I fit in there.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m not all beachy and outgoing like most people there were. But they were all super nice anyway. I made some friends at the college I went to, but I didn’t stay close to any of them after I graduated and started working.”

“Is that why you moved back? Cause you had no friends?”

“Robin!” I scolded, mouth dropping open. She laughed again, lighting up the room. “I did have friends, I’m just not a very social person!”

“Then why did you move back?”

I shrugged, “Florida isn’t the place for me, but I don’t know where is, so my mom suggested I move back here in the mean time.”

“And she’s just, like, letting you live in the cabin?”

“Yeah. I mean, they didn’t pay for it, and I’ve spent more time here than they have anyway. When my grandpa left it to them, they thought it was more of an extra bill than a vacation house. That’s why they’re gonna put it in my name if I decide to stay.”

“What?” she squealed, her eyes going wide as saucers, “So you could be little miss homeowner! That’s amazing! As bad as the economy is, I’d take that deal in a heartbeat!”

“I know, I know. I’m thinking about it. It is nice to be around family again. And you.”

“Just wait til you see the others. They’re gonna be SO excited you’re back! As a matter of fact why don’t we have them over here for a little reunion?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Do you even still hang out with them?”

“Eddie and Steve, yeah. We’re all still pretty close. The kids are all kinda doing their own thing now, but we still see each other a lot too, around town and such. And we still have a group chat, we just don’t send much but dumb memes in it.”

“Damn, Rob. Thanks for including me in this group chat!” I huffed, smacking her arm jokingly.

“You left, you gave up your groupchat rights!”

We laughed together and talked some more as we finished unpacking my boxes. I didn’t have much, no furniture or anything because the cabin was already completely furnished. My grandpa had impeccable taste, everything was extremely elegant while also being perfectly warm and rustic.

“Okay,” she sighed after we threw away the last piece of cardboard, “It’s dark now so I should probably get home, but let’s hang out again tomorrow! Come up to town! I opened up a music shop, you can come see!”

“That’s amazing! I’d love to come see!”

And with that, she was off. I breathed in a deep sigh, a smile on my face as I fell onto the couch and turned the TV on. It was nice to have Robin again. I was impressed with how quickly and swiftly we fell into old habits, gossiping and chatting like no time had passed and we were still just two kids. The person I was nervous to see again was Steve.

-

The next day, I woke up and showered, preparing myself to go to town. I needed to pick up groceries, and I also wanted to stop by Robin’s music shop, excited to see her hard work paid off.

I slipped on a pair of running shorts and a crop top, throwing a loose cardigan on over it and slipping into a pair of tennis shoes. My hair was curled and I had on light makeup. I felt pretty, but not overdone. I wanted to at least look decent enough that, if I ran into someone I knew, I wouldn’t be mortified.

The grocery store was desolate as I pulled into the parking lot, only a few cars in the spaces and a firetruck parked by the door. I supposed public servants do need to shop, too. I wondered if it was someone I knew, I remember my dad was friends with some of the town’s firemen when I was younger, but I shrugged it off, wanting to get in and out hassle free.

As soon as I walked in the door, though, I was greeted with a high pitched voice, “Y/N?”

I turned to see who it belonged to and was delighted to see Max, behind one of the registers wearing a store polo.

“Hey!” I grinned wide, rushing over to her and going in for a hug. She’d been like a little sister when I’d lived in Hawkins before, and I had to admit, I missed her while I was gone.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, leaning back to stare at me, “I haven’t seen you in like… five years!”

“I know, I know. I moved back!”

“What? Like forever?” she asked, hope creeping into her voice.

“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet. But definitely for a while. What about you? How long have you been working here?”

“Two years now. Dustin works here, too, but he’s off today.”

“That’s a shame. I’ll have to come back when he’s here and see him!”

“Oh, you should see everyone! We’ve all missed you so much! Even the ones of us that won’t admit it,” she giggled with an eye roll, “Mike has always been stubborn and dumb.”

“Well that’s okay,” I hummed, “I’m here now, so it’s all okay.”

“Yeah, but next time you leave, can you warn a girl first? I missed you a lot!”

“I know, I’m sorry. Scouts honor, next time I’ll shove you in my suitcase and bring you with me.”

“Perfect,” she beamed, her teeth as pearly white as always. She looked older, and she’d grown up beautifully. I didn’t know if she was still with Lucas, but if so, he was lucky.

I let go of her, getting started on my shopping. I didn’t get much, just the basics, and a few minutes later I was done and ready to check out. I wasn’t paying attention and accidentally bumped into the guy in front of me in line.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” I rushed out as I pulled my cart away gently. He turned around and my mouth fell open as I recognized his pretty face.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice steady but his face gave him away. He was in utter shock.

“Steve,” I offered back, staring at him, waiting for what he had to say.

Max interrupted the short awkward silence, “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you Y/N’s back.”

He sent her a glare then turned back to me, scanning over me, settling on all the parts of me that had changed. I’d filled out more, and I could tell he noticed. I could tell he appreciated it.

I scanned over him as well, taking note of his khakis and the Hawkins Fire Dept T shirt he wore. So the truck was his. Interesting. He looked good, better than ever. He was more chiseled than I remembered, and it worked for him, from his head to his toes. And his hair was as iconic as always.

“Why’re you back?” he asked me, his voice devoid of much emotion.

“Just wanted to come back for a while.”

“A while? So not forever?”

“I dunno, Steve. I haven’t thought that far ahead,” I breathed out a laugh.

“You never did.”

My eyes dropped, shame creeping in. “I’m sorry for how I left, Steve. I just had to go.”

“Yeah,” he deadpanned, “It’s fine. Is what it is. It’s your business anyway.”

“Steve, please don’t do that,” I sighed.

“Do what?”

“That thing you always do where you pretend you’re not hurt.”

“I’m not. I might’ve been seven years ago, but I’ve had a lot of time for that wound to close, Y/N.”

“So you’re not happy to see me at all?”

“Not as happy as I would’ve been to see you on my doorstep that day.”

I knew exactly what day he was talking about. It was the Saturday, two weeks after I graduated. He’d asked me a month in advance to come over, and I agreed, not even thinking about the fact that I was leaving. He’d consistently asked me for reassurance that I would be there, and every time I promised I would. But I wasn’t.

“I’m just so sorry Stevie. I can’t even tell you how sorry I am. Of all the people I hurt, I regret hurting you the most.”

“It’s fine. Like I said, seven years,” he shrugged, grabbing his receipt from Max and walking out. I watched him go, dejected, melancholy overtaking me.

“You ok? That was rough to watch,” Max gave me a sympathetic look and I forced a smile.

“I’m good, Maxy. Like he said. Seven years.”

She stared at me for a moment, as if she was deciding what to say, an internal battle behind her eyes. “He had a party planned for you that day.”

“What?”

“Yeah. With me and the other guys and Robin and everybody. He was so excited, he never shut up about it. Then he found out you left and cancelled. He hasn’t really been the same since.”

“How’d he find out I left?”

“Your dad told him. He went over to see you and you weren’t there.”

I sighed, my eyes welling up. I couldn’t believe I’d screwed up that badly. All I wanted was a getaway, I never knew I’d be hurting so many people. I never knew he cared so much.

“Max, I-“

“Was in love with him. I know. Everybody knows. That’s why we didn’t understand why you left.”

“He wanted girl after girl after girl. And it was never me. I was never his type. I needed to get away to get over him or I was gonna live a life full of heartbreak and disappointment. But now I see how selfish that was.”

“It wasn’t selfish. Just not well thought out. Have you at least gotten over him?”

“I thought so, til I saw him look at me like that.”

I finished checking out and promised Max I’d be back in to see her, then headed to the music store. The exterior was nice. It was a painted brick building, colorful and bright. There was a huge mural on the side of it, and I knew it was all Robin’s doing because I remembered that particular building being boring and run down before I left.

I walked inside, looking around to see the inside was just as amazing. I was honestly impressed with how well she’d done everything, from organizing to decorating.

“Rob, this is awesome!” I exclaimed as I walked up to the counter. She’d been looking down, doing some kind of paperwork, but when she looked up and saw me she put it down and ran around the counter.

“You really came!”

“Of course I came, have I ever let you down?” I asked, laughing, then added, “Well, other than that one time.”

“You’re right. You did always used to come through. I don’t think you ever missed anything.”

“And I definitely wouldn’t miss this! If I’d known you opened it, I would’ve been here that day to watch you cut the ribbon or whatever!”

“Oh, it’s okay, it wasn’t that big of a ceremony. You know nothing is big in Hawkins unless you’re rich. But I get good business and I’ve kept the doors open. Plus, all the high school girls like to take pictures in front of the mural outside for their instagrams, and that’s actually drummed up a lot of business.”

“I’d imagine so. Show me around?”

She took me to the instruments section, explaining why she’d organized it the way she had and how it made the most sense. Then we wandered to the sheet music, and then to the records. Finally, we hit the cds and a little caddy full of Apple, Spotify, Iheartradio and Youtube gift cards. She also had a small section with assorted local snacks.

“This is great, really,” I smiled, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Well, I actually got the idea from you,” she nonchalantly shrugged.

“When?” I furrowed my brows and asked.

“One time, I was talking to you about how I’m just a band geek and you told me band geeks make it far in life. You suggested I either get famous or open up a huge store full of band stuff and make tons of money. You really thought I had it in me to do both.”

“You did have it in you. You could be in a real band right now if you wanted.”

She full on belly laughed, waving the thought off. “Whatever. Change of subject, I heard you saw Steve.”

“Heard from who?”

“From Steve. He called me mad because I didn’t tell him you were home.”

“Why was he so mad?”

“Well, he’ll say it’s because he just wasn’t expecting to see you and would be happy if you’d have just stayed gone. But I know it’s because he does want you here, more than anything, and all his old feelings are coming back, and he would’ve liked some wanting before seeing your face in the middle of the grocery store after seven years.”

“It wasn’t the middle of the grocery store,” I rolled my eyes, “It was the front. And he was not happy to see me, sorry to be the one to burst your bubble. Old feelings can’t come up if there weren’t any in the first place, Im just a girl he used to be friends with.”

“It was always more with you and Steve,” she shrugged, “Everyone else saw it.”

“If I’d known he planned a party for me, I would’ve been there that day.”

“I know. And he knew, too. That’s why he told us to never tell you. He didn’t want you to feel guilty, and he didn’t want you to have to come back just for him.”

I sighed, feeling even worse than I did when Steve was staring at me with that look in his eyes. I knew him, I knew his faces, and I knew what he looked like when he was hurt. I really did a number on him.

“I don’t know if I can make this one better, Rob.”

“You can. He’ll get over his anger, I promise. The way he felt about you doesn’t just go away, he has a big ol’ soft spot for you. There’s nothing he could ever hold against you, not even this.”

I nodded with yet another sigh, “Anyways, what about you? Any ladies on the roster?”

She looked shocked I’d asked, “Bold aren’t you?”

“Always have been!”

She proceeded to tell me about all the girls she’d been interested in, and all the ones she’d dated since I left. It was nice to see her so comfortable with herself, and it was even nicer to hear that she’d gotten some really cool girlfriends.

“So who are you dating now?” I asked, leaning on the counter, fully intrigued.

“Well, there’s this lady, Shelly. She sold me this building. She’s older than me, but goodness, what I wouldn’t do to -“

“You don’t have to continue that,” I giggled, “I catch your drift. Is she into you?”

“Well… she’s recently divorced from a man, but sometimes she flirts like she’s curious or something.”

“Maybe she is. Maybe she wants to taste your cherry chapstick,” I stuck my tongue at her jokingly.

We were interrupted by the bell above the door, and I turned to see Steve walking in, Eddie on his tail wearing the exact same uniform.

“Oh,” he stared blankly when he saw me, “I’ll come back later.”

“No,” I stopped him, “If me being here is that big of a deal then I’ll go.”

Robin scoffed, “Neither of you idiots are going anywhere. We’re all friends here.”

“It’s ok Rob,” I sighed, “Really, I’m fine with leaving.”

“Steve, she doesn’t have to leave, man. We’re not gonna be here long, and she’s not hurting anybody,” Eddie put in his two cents, and I smiled.

“Hey Eddie,” I walked over to him and he opened his arms wide for a hug.

“Hey Y/N. I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you more,” I poked him as I pulled away, taking in his short hair and muscles more formed than I’d ever seen them. “Fire department make you chop your curls off?”

“Unfortunately.”

“It’s a nice look,” I shrugged, “Very handsome and mature.”

Steve cleared his throat and we turned to him. “Relax,” Eddie sighed, “We’re not flirting, bro. That’s what you guys do.”

Steve blushed. He couldn’t stop himself. “Give it a rest, Eddie.”

“Not until you stop your temper tantrum and let the past go.”

“I’m not throwing a temper tantrum,” Steve rolled his eyes, and Robin took it upon herself to lighten the mood.

“Anyways,” she smiled brightly, “How’s work going today, boys?”

“Well, we have a kitten in the firetruck,” Steve sighed, and she laughed.

“A cat?”

“Yeah, Steve rescued it from a bush, it’s little foot was stuck in one of the branches,” Eddie patted Steve on the back.

“It looks like that cat Y/N used to have, the one that she cried for a week straight when it died,” Steve mused, smiling at me for the first time since I’d seen him again as if involuntarily. He caught himself though, and turned away.

“You remember that?” I asked.

“I remember everything,” he shrugged, “Wanna see it?”

“Of course!” I squealed, and he walked me outside, opening the drivers’ side door and pulling it out.

It was cute, white with silver spots all over it. It meowed as he handed it to me, climbing into my arms and clinging on to me for dear life.

“Oh, he’s perfect,” I hummed as I stared at him, holding him close to me and giving his forehead kisses.

“He’s yours,” Steve said, his eyes trained on me and the cat, “If you want him, I mean.”

I looked at him, seeing if there was any sign of joking but there was none. “I’d love to take him!”

“I thought of you when I saw him,” he admitted to me, staring at his feet and swaying nervously.

“I didn’t think you even still thought about me.”

“All the time.”

His voice was almost too low for me to hear, but I caught it and my heart sped up.

“Steve, I’m sorry again. Really. I missed you every day. If I could go back and be there that day…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he sighed, “I was angry when I first saw you. I’m not now. I just needed to get over the initial shock, that’s all.”

“So you don’t hate me?”

“I couldn’t if I wanted to. You were my best friend. I just… I just wanna understand why you left. You never told me. Nobody ever told me.”

“It’s…” I hesitated. How could I explain it to him? “It’s a long story.”

“Of course,” he nodded, “Well whenever you’re ready to, we can talk.”

“Okay.”

We stared at each other for a moment before Eddie broke the silence, “You ready to go Steve? They’re gonna be sending out a search party soon if we don’t get back.”

“Yeah,” he nodded then turned to me, “See you later, Y/N. Take care of the cat.”

“I will. Bye,” I smiled, watching him walk away.

Well, at least the anger had subsided. But I was never going to be able to explain the reason I left.

The night of my graduation

The ceremony had taken ages. I wouldn’t have cared if not for the heels that had been cramping my feet all day and the tight white dress that I wanted to rip off. I groaned as I walked to the parking lot where my family was waiting, along with my friends.

The first person that greeted me was Steve. He was always the first to greet me, no matter the place or occasion. In his hand, he held my favorite slippers, fuzzy and cozy and just what my feet needed.

“Aww, Stevie, you brought me slippers?” I cooed, pouting at his kind gesture.

“When you told me you were wearing those ridiculous heels I knew I needed to bring them so I wouldn’t have to listen to you complain about your feet hurting.”

I ripped my heels off with a vengeance and replaced them with the slippers that had cute smiley faces on them, and my face matched the expression. I pulled Steve into a hug so tight I thought we might suffocate each other, breathing him in.

“This is why you’re my best friend,” I hummed into his chest.

We didn’t let go of each other for a minute or two, soaking in the moment. Our hugs were always like that. It always felt like we were never going to see each other again. Only this time, we really weren’t. He didn’t know that, though.

He pulled away, looking in my eyes, a sparkle in his that was all for me. His eyes trailed down to my open gown and the dress under it, and he raised his brows.

“You look good.”

“Just good?”

“Really good.”

And that moment dragged on with a heated glance shared between us, eyes locked on each other and refusing to move until Robin barreled over to us, kids in tow and Eddie following.

“Quit hogging her, dingus, she’s too pretty to only talk to you,” she rolled her eyes, hugging me tightly and chit chatting about the ceremony. Steve stayed quiet though, and that heated gaze didn’t dissipate. Something felt different. Something was off, in the best way.

My family joined us, offering to bring us all back to the cabin for a barbecue and we eagerly agreed. I rode with Steve, naturally, the kids rode with my parents, and Eddie and Robin took his van.

The ride felt longer than it should’ve, tension in the air.

“Steve, what’s happening?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve never run out of things to talk about,” I shrugged, leaning over to brush a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

“We haven’t run out of things to talk about. It’s just, sometimes when I’m with you, nothing needs to be said.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“I think so,” he glanced at me, his eyes sharp and cutting into my heart, right where I wanted him most. Right where he already was.

Minutes later, we pulled in the rough driveway, my hair flying all over my face. He chuckled, smoothing it out over my head before we got out, joining everyone else by the lake.

“They’ve got it decked out,” I commented as we approached, and Steve just smiled bashfully. “Did you have something to do with this?”

“Maybe.”

I giggled lightly, turning away from him to greet everyone else.

“Y/N, Steve, you made it!” my mom beamed, pulling us into a hug, “I see you ditched the gown!”

“Yeah, it was itchy,” I grimaced, remembering the horrible material.

“Well I wanted to take pictures but we can do it later,” she shrugged, leading us to the picnic table. The benches were full, though, so Steve pulled a big folding chair up and sat down, pulling me down beside him, my legs over his lap. That wasn’t unusual for us, we were always touchy and feely, always beside eachother somehow. Nobody even found it odd anymore, though the jokes about us getting together never ceased.

Everyone laughed and had a good time, and as the night wore on, I got a little sleepy. Steve and I had been up and about, but we were back in our chair, my head laid in the crook of his neck and his arms around me.

“Wanna go for a walk?” he asked me, watching everyone else continue their good time. I nodded, standing up. He stood up after me, grabbing my hand and leading me away.

We walked through a trail in the woods we’d found the first time we snuck out to the cabin together.

“Remember the first time we came out here?” he asked me, and I nodded with a laugh.

“I slipped in mud and fell on my ass. I fractured my foot, too, and I couldn’t walk. I was disgusting, but you still carried me back to the car.”

“I don’t mind getting a little dirty,” he shrugged with a wink, and I rolled my eyes. “Not with you, at least.”

Finally, we reached our destination, a clearing by the water. It had the prettiest view of the sky.

“Swim with me,” he stated, as if it was more of a demand than a question.

“Steve!” I huffed, “I can’t swim in this dress!”

“Then take it off. You have on a bra and panties, right?”

“Well… y-yeah, but-“

“Just do it. You only graduate high school once, do something crazy with me! We’re best friends, right?” he coerced, squeezing my hands and pulling me closer to the water.

I sighed, nodding slowly. “Will you unzip me?”

He walked behind me and laid his hands on my shoulders. They were warm and heavy, his grip on me soft but firm. his fingers trailed down my back to the little metal piece and he pulled it down, exposing black lace and my plain black thong. I turned to him, letting the white material fall to the ground, and the way his eyes lingered in all the places a friend shouldn’t look was hard to miss.

“Why would you wear that to graduate?” he asked, “Were you planning on getting lucky tonight!”

“I’m already lucky tonight, Steve,” I sighed, “I’m with you. Now take off your clothes and come on!”

He chuckled, his eyes darker than they’d been a moment ago, and pulled his shirt over his head, then kicking off his pants. I was greedy taking him in, his boxers tight and leaving little to the imagination.

Steve and I had seen each other like that before. We’d walked in on each other changing, and we’d swam in regular swimsuits. All of our insecurities had already been exposed so many times, so none of them even mattered at all. This felt different, though. Being in nothing but dainty lingerie had me shy, exposed.

He approached me slowly, his hands landing on my hips, his eyes meeting mine and staying. He was so close I could feel his body heat radiating off of him, goosebumps prickling my skin.

“Race you,” he smirked suddenly, twirling me out of the way and sliding past me, running to the water and jumping in. I rolled my eyes and laughed, following him and jumping on his back. We fell into a fit of giggles together as he tossed me off, pulling me into his front instead.

The giggles died out, replaced by heavy breath.

“I won,” he whispered.

“What’s your prize?” I responded breathily.

He groaned, leaning his head down into my neck and inhaling.

“You’re driving me crazy. You’re my best friend. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what?”

“Shouldn’t love you so much.”

“I love you too, Steve,” I giggled, but he stopped me, his thumb running over my bottom lip.

“I don’t think I could’ve made it these last couple years without you,” he admitted. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. Don’t tell the kids.”

“Oh, I won’t, they’d be crushed,” I nodded dramatically.

For a second I thought he’d kiss me. I thought he’d kiss me and I wouldn’t have to leave. He leaned in so close, his lips were less than a breath away from mine. But then he pulled to the side and kissed my cheek instead, then trailed his lips down, ghosting over the sensitive skin of my neck.

I let out a raspy breath, “Steve,” I barely moaned. I needed him so bad I could feel it, I could hear it and see it. I’d been in love with him for far too long. His hand tangled in my slightly wet hair, tugging lightly, pulling me in. His other landed on my side, trailing down my thigh and pulling my leg over his hip. I could feel everything, and I didn’t know how to take it all.

All of a sudden, he pulled away, his hand still in mine but the warmth gone. I whined at the loss of contact.

“We’re supposed to be swimming!” he chuckled, haphazardly pulling me under with him. And like that, the moment was replaced with something lighter, friendlier, but still close.

Later that night, Steve drove me back to my parents’ house. As he parked in the driveway, he turned to me.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered bashfully.

I stared at my lap, not knowing what to say. I wanted to tell him I was leaving, but he would just beg me to stay and wear me down until I agreed, and I would spend the rest of my life hanging on his arm next to whatever girl he wanted more than me. I was never going to be it for him. I was never going to be what he wanted. I wasn’t enough.

“Goodbye, Steve,” I gave him a sad smile and got out of the car, running inside the house.