#don't blame me when this turns into a oneshot

[raayllum]

for @jelzorz

Soren has always been quite charming, thank you very much.

He has great hair, and a dazzling smile—if he does say so himself—and a swaggering air where he can convince anyone to do just about anything. He'd gotten Callum to lift up logs for shining gemstones knowing very well there'd been nothing but gross bugs underneath just for his own amusement. He'd pulled puppy-dog eyes at Claudia and she'd always, inevitably, help him dye his hair. Even Ezran, on days he had to be very kingly and stoic, couldn't say no to a jelly tart heist if Soren asked for one.

Still, Soren can admit that Opeli can sometimes be a tough nut to crack.

She's traditional, and stern faced, and secretly funny, and she has to be the adult at the table most of the time—especially after Corvus leaves (because Soren is charming, but he can't convince him to stay—not when Soren's half-assing it and knows it) and someone has to hold down the fort.

Now she's insisting that no, they don't have time to go to the Banther Lodge and build snow forts, because they have a delegation to greet in Del Bar in two weeks, and going to the Lodge will add another few days of travel.

"It's Del Bar," Callum says. "They have bad weather that delays stuff all the time."

"It is important to make a good impression," Opeli counters, unwavering even if it's Callum and Rayla's first time back in Katolis in a little while.

"Come on, Opeli," Rayla says. "We can build snow-elves."

The cleric presses her lips together. "I'm afraid that—"

"Breaks to avoid burnout are important, though," Soren chimes in, and Opeli stops and stares at him. He won't lie and say he doesn't act more outlandish sometimes, ever so slightly—to be ridiculous but not immature—just to have her eyes on him a little longer. He leans back in his chair for said reason, hands folded behind his head. "And being fashionably late is Del Bar politeness, you know."

"Soren," Opeli sighs, wavering.

"The best mead is at the Banther Lodge, too," he continues, 'musing.' We'll want to bring something good as a present. Even if we sent a runner now, it'd only really save us a day, maybe two. With no vacation. So..." He grins at her, waggling his eyebrows. "Please?"

Opeli stares at him for a moment, and then a moment longer, before rubbing at her temples. "Fine. Fine." A chorus of cheers, starting with Ezran, sound around the table. "You may go," she relents. "But you better start packing soon. You'll want to leave in the morning."

There's a hasty scraping of chairs as people rise, Ezran scooping up Bait and Callum and Rayla exchanging excited looks. Soren remains as Barius leaves to start baking, watching as Opeli gathers up the paperwork.

"You're coming too, right?" he checks.

She stops, startling like she didn't realize she was still there. Then she focuses on shuffling her papers. "Someone must look after the kingdom—"

"There are other advisors who can spare a few days."

"Soren—"

"You'll be handling things on your own here when we go to Del Bar. You deserve a break too."

Opeli glances down. "I'm not sure—"

"I'd wish you come," he chances, ignoring the sudden lump in his throat. He's supposed to be charming, not sincere. He scrounges up more of a swaggering grin as she blinks, face otherwise unreadable beneath her circlet. "Things are always more fun when you're around."

Opeli lets out a wonderfully undignified snort. "I don't know about that."

"It's true. You're the only one who can stump Callum's snarkiness. And Rayla's surliness."

"I suppose so." She squints at him, mouth pulling up reluctantly into a smile. "You're sure I won't be a killjoy?"

"Not entirely," he says, "but—" and she laughs.

"I thought you were supposed to be charming."

He picks up a loose paper and hands it to her, fingers brushing. Soren tries to talk like his heart isn't beating too fast. "Can't be all the time, I think—although I didn't know you thought so at all."

Their eyes catch. She looks away first, clearing her throat but saying nothing.

Soren lets his gaze linger this time and pushes just a little. "So—you'll come with us?"

Opeli holds her paperwork to her chest. "Yes," she answers at last. "I think I will."

[seventh-district]

wow!!! nothing better than watching your AO3 subscribers stat go down every time you post a new chapter of your current fic!!!

[mcrdvcks]

Until I Found You

Summary: Living in a small town had it's pluses and minuses. But when an older man and his daughter move in, things start to change, perhaps for the better.

Word Count: 24.3k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!teacher!reader

Notes: this is looong, and believe me, i was surprised when i realized that it ended up being 24,000 words.

this thing is a slow-burn, i was literally screaming at my screen saying 'just kiss already!' then realizing that, in fact, i'm the one who has to make them kiss or confess or do something.

reader has a last name, but other than that, she isn't described. this technically could be considered an AU of logan (2017) where logan survives, so this was written with old man logan in mind.

i would like to turn this into another oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests! (relating to this or anything else you want to see!)

warnings: none!

The small town you lived in meant a few things, everyone knew everyone, and everyone got in everyone’s business.

A few months ago, an older man and his young daughter moved into town. You weren’t sure exactly how old he was, of course you knew who he was, but even you had to admit, he was attractive. But that’s what everyone thought, you heard the mothers who would pick up their children from school, looking at Logan as he picked up Laura.

It was nice to see a man who picked up his kid, though you’ve never seen Laura’s mother, so perhaps that explains why.

Laura was a quiet and sweet girl, at least that’s what you thought. Apparently, she also had the spirit of a firecracker and got angry easily. And while she’s visited the principal’s office at least 9 times since she’s been here, you still can’t help but see her as a cute little girl who’s been through something traumatic, whatever it was.

You were standing outside with your class in the afternoon, waiting until all the students were picked up. Laura was in another teacher’s class at the end of the day, your coworker Emma Zhou. You and Emma stood next to each other, your classes mingling as they waited for their parents to pick them up.

Emma leaned close to you, “this is my favorite part of the day, you know.”

“Yeah, I think it’s everyone’s favorite part of the day. We get to go home after this.” You replied.

“It used to be that, but now…” Emma trailed off as you glanced over at her, “there aren’t a lot of people in this town who are good looking. But he’s a great new addition.”

You hummed noncommittally, so what if Logan was good-looking? It wasn't like you spent your time ogling him. He was just another parent in the sea of them, a bit rougher around the edges maybe, but nothing that special. Emma shot you a knowing look.

"Come on, you’ve seen him, right? That scruffy beard, those eyes," Emma said, nudging you with her elbow. "He’s like one of those rugged cowboys from the old Westerns."

"You sound like you're about to swoon," you teased, trying to keep the conversation light. You didn't want to admit you might have noticed the way his eyes softened when he looked at Laura or the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Well, can you blame me?" Emma shot back with a grin. "Small town like ours, and a guy like that shows up? It's bound to turn some heads."

You knew that much. All the women, even those who were married, always ogled him, but he either didn’t mind or didn’t care. His salt and pepper hair, the thick beard—he was practically a wet dream for women everywhere.

Emma nudged you again, eyes gleaming with mischief. "What, you’re not even the least bit curious about him?"

"I mean, sure, he's... attractive, but I'm not about to join the fan club," you said, shrugging it off, though you could feel heat creeping up your neck. You kept your focus on the kids in front of you, especially Laura, who sat quietly on the steps, doodling in her notebook like she always did while waiting for her dad.

Emma smirked, clearly not buying your indifference. "Yeah, right. I see the way you look over there sometimes."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "You're seeing things."

Just then, you noticed Logan’s truck pull into the school parking lot. He stepped out, running a hand through his hair as he made his way over to the crowd of parents. Laura immediately perked up, her quiet demeanor shifting just a little, and she started gathering her things without a word.

"Speak of the devil," Emma murmured, but you ignored her, watching as Logan approached, his usual scowl in place, though it softened when his eyes landed on his daughter.

He gave a brief nod in your direction as he came closer. "Afternoon."

"Hey," you replied, casually. You weren’t about to give Emma the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.

Laura stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder as she walked over to him. She paused in front of you, though, glancing up with those big, serious eyes of hers.

"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice quiet but steady with a hint of her accent.

You smiled. "See you tomorrow, Laura."

She gave a small nod before taking Logan’s hand. He didn’t say much else, just a simple ‘thanks’ before turning to leave with Laura in tow. You watched them walk away for a moment longer than necessary, noticing the slight limp in his step that he tried to hide.

"Y/N," Emma sing-songed, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Admit it, you’ve got a little thing for him, don't you?"

You rolled your eyes. "You really need a new hobby."

Emma laughed, but before she could press any further, her attention shifted to another parent picking up their kid, and you were grateful for the distraction. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder about Logan and Laura, what their story was. Everyone in town seemed to have their theories—some more ridiculous than others—but you’d always figured it wasn’t your place to pry.

As the crowd of students and parents thinned out, you found yourself thinking about Logan again. His gruff exterior didn’t bother you—it reminded you of those old Clint Eastwood characters, tough but with something vulnerable underneath. Maybe it was the way he looked at Laura, so protective but with a softness that made you wonder what kind of man he really was when he let his guard down.

Emma’s voice pulled you back to the present. "So, what’s your plan for the evening?"

You shrugged. "Probably just grading papers. Maybe catching up on some Netflix. You?"

"Trying to figure out how to run into Logan at the grocery store," she joked, though you wouldn’t have been surprised if she wasn’t kidding.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Good luck with that."

As you both said your goodbyes and headed to your cars, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time. He was already driving off, Laura in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window.

You let out a small sigh and got in your car, starting the engine. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but there was something there. Maybe Emma wasn’t entirely wrong.

Not that you’d ever admit that to her.

---

Much to your dismay, you had to go to the store once you were already clad in your loungewear. You wanted to make pasta, only to remember you forgot to get milk after work.

So now, here you were at the small local grocery store grabbing milk and a pint of ice cream for your troubles. The store was quiet at this hour, a few other people milling about but otherwise uneventful. You grabbed a basket and made a beeline for the dairy section, trying to get in and out as quickly as possible. Loungewear was great for a lazy evening at home, but not exactly your first choice for public appearances.

Once you made it to the frozen section, you looked at the pints of ice cream, specifically looking for one of your favorites, Ben and Jerry’s s’mores. “Fuck.” You muttered, seeing a pint of cookie dough in the spot of the s’mores.

You angrily grabbed the cookie dough ice cream to look behind it, only to find a chunky monkey pint. With a huff, you looked at the pint of ice cream, mentally cursing your luck. Just as you were about to put it back onto the shelf, a deep voice spoke from beside you.

"Didn't figure you for a chunky monkey type."

Startled, you looked up and found Logan standing there, one eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was holding a six-pack of beer and a carton of eggs in one hand, the other casually resting in the pocket of his jeans.

You blinked, thrown off by the sudden appearance. "What? Oh, no, I was just... I was looking for s'mores," you explained awkwardly, holding up the ice cream like it was evidence.

He nodded, his smirk deepening a little as he glanced at the shelves. "Guess they’re out, huh?"

"Yeah, my luck tonight," you muttered, a little embarrassed to be caught standing here obsessing over ice cream in your loungewear. Not exactly how you wanted to run into the guy you were definitely not crushing on. How could you? He was the Wolverine, around 200 years old, and looked to be the age of your father. Well, if your father was still alive. Or if you ever got to know him.

Logan glanced at the shelf again and shrugged. "S'mores is overrated anyway."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, momentarily forgetting your embarrassment. "Oh really? What’s your go-to then, Mr. Anti-S'mores?"

He smirked, that same low, gravelly voice coming through as he responded. "Not much of an ice cream guy, but if I had to choose… probably plain vanilla. Simple. Not too sweet."

You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you. "Of course you'd go for the most basic flavor."

His eyebrow twitched slightly at that, and you could see the playful glint in his eyes. "Sometimes simple’s the best option."

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a pint of vanilla. "Well, I guess I'll take your advice tonight, then. Not like I have much of a choice."

He gave you a brief nod, and for a moment, it seemed like the conversation would end there, but then Logan shifted slightly, his weight on one leg, clearly trying to mask the limp you'd noticed earlier. You weren’t sure if it was from the adamantium or something else, but it definitely wasn’t healing like it should. You found yourself biting your lip, wanting to ask but knowing better.

Instead, you went for something safer. "Laura’s doing well in class, by the way. She’s sharp. A little stubborn, but sharp."

He glanced down at you, a flicker of pride crossing his face. "Yeah, she’s a tough one." His expression softened as he added, "She doesn’t talk about it, but I know she likes you. Keeps her distance with most people."

Your heart fluttered a little at that. Laura was a bit of a mystery, rarely engaging much with the other teachers or students, so hearing that she’d let her guard down even a little with you meant more than you’d expected. "Well, she’s a good kid. I try not to push her too much."

Logan nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than you expected, like he was sizing you up in that quiet, brooding way of his. It made you feel both exposed and… oddly seen.

"Anyway," you said, breaking the silence, "I’ll let you get back to your shopping. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than stand around talking about ice cream."

He gave a small grunt that might’ve been a laugh, but it was so subtle you couldn’t be sure. "Yeah. See you around, Ms. Aberra."

"Y/N," you corrected, feeling a little awkward. "You can just call me Y/N."

He hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Y/N, then."

You gave him a small smile, feeling a strange warmth at the way your name sounded in his deep voice. He gave a nod before turning to leave, but as he walked away, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at his retreating form. There was something about him—something rough, broken, but undeniably captivating.

---

The next morning, you pulled into the school parking lot, iced coffee in hand, still replaying your chance encounter with Logan at the grocery store. Why did it have to be the one night you went out in loungewear? If Emma ever found out, you'd never hear the end of it. You mentally braced yourself as you walked toward the building, determined to shake off any lingering thoughts about last night.

As you entered the teacher's lounge to drop off your things, Emma was already there, nursing her own cup of coffee. She spotted you immediately and raised an eyebrow.

"You look a little too chipper for a Wednesday," she teased.

You shrugged, trying to act casual. "Just happy to be halfway through the week."

"Uh-huh," she said, not quite convinced. "You didn't run into anyone interesting last night, did you?"

Your heart skipped a beat. How does she know?

"Like who?" you asked, trying to play dumb, but Emma's smirk told you she wasn't buying it.

"Oh, I don’t know... maybe a certain rugged cowboy-looking guy with a truck?" she said, her grin widening.

You groaned. "Seriously, do you have a sixth sense or something?"

"I knew it!" Emma practically squealed. "You did run into Logan, didn’t you? Come on, spill!"

You rolled your eyes and took a seat at the table. "It was nothing. We just ran into each other in the frozen section, talked for, like, two seconds. That’s it."

"Uh-huh, and?" Emma leaned forward, eager for details.

"And nothing. We talked about ice cream. He said s'mores was overrated."

Emma let out a dramatic gasp. "Overrated? Now, I know he's not perfect."

You chuckled despite yourself. "Yeah, well, that's the most thrilling part of my story, so feel free to be disappointed."

Emma shook her head, still grinning. "Oh, I'm not disappointed at all. This is just the beginning."

"There's nothing to begin, Emma," you said, exasperated. "He's just another parent."

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that," she said with a wink before heading out to her classroom. You couldn't help but roll your eyes again as you followed her out into the hallway.

---

The morning passed uneventfully, but Laura had been quieter than usual in your class. Not that she was typically the most talkative kid, but today she seemed more distant, even from you. She’d finished her assignments early, as usual, but spent most of the class staring out the window instead of doodling in her notebook.

During lunch, you decided to check in with her. You found her sitting by herself outside, picking at the sandwich Logan had packed for her. You approached cautiously, not wanting to startle her.

"Hey, Laura," you greeted, taking a seat on the bench next to her. "Everything okay?"

She glanced at you, her expression as unreadable as always, before giving a slight shrug. "Yeah."

You studied her for a moment, noticing the way she kept her gaze low, avoiding eye contact more than usual. Something was definitely off. You knew better than to push too hard, but you also didn't want her to bottle everything up.

"Well, you know if you ever want to talk, I’m here," you said gently.

She gave another shrug, but this time, her eyes flickered up to meet yours briefly. "I know."

You nodded, letting the silence settle between you. Laura wasn’t one for big emotional outbursts—at least not around you—but you had a feeling she'd talk when she was ready.

"By the way," you said, changing the subject to lighten the mood, "your dad said he don’t like s'mores ice cream. Is that true, or is he just weird?"

Laura looked up at you, her lips twitching slightly like she was trying not to smile. "I like s'mores."

"Thought so," you replied with a smirk. "Well, I’m officially questioning all of your dad's taste now."

Laura didn’t laugh, but her expression softened a little, and she took another bite of her sandwich. It wasn’t much, but it felt like progress. You let her finish eating in peace, feeling a little more at ease knowing that you’d at least gotten her to relax.

---

The afternoon flew by, and soon enough, the end-of-day pickup routine was in full swing. You and Emma stood outside again, watching the usual parade of parents and cars. Logan’s truck was easy to spot as it pulled up to the curb. You tried to act like you weren’t paying attention, but of course, Emma caught you glancing over.

"Still nothing, huh?" she teased under her breath.

"Shut up," you muttered, doing your best to seem disinterested.

Logan stepped out of the truck, his usual stoic expression in place as he made his way toward the school. Laura was already waiting, standing near the steps with her backpack slung over her shoulder. She saw him and walked over without hesitation, but before they left, she turned back to you.

"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice a little softer than usual.

"See you tomorrow, Laura," you replied with a smile.

Logan gave you a nod as they walked past, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight limp in his step again. It was subtle, but there. Your curiosity piqued, but you pushed it down, reminding yourself it wasn’t your place to pry.

Emma, however, was still watching you closely. "You’re so not fooling anyone."

You shot her a look. "Seriously, get a hobby."

Emma just grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Oh, this is my hobby, Y/N. And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it."

As you both stood there, watching the last of the kids get picked up, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time as it drove away. Emma’s teasing was getting on your nerves, but there was a part of you that couldn’t completely dismiss what she was saying.

Maybe you were a little curious. Just a little. But you weren’t about to admit that to anyone—not even yourself.

---

Over the weekend you decided it was time to get an oil change. You weren’t going to go to ‘Mavin’s Oil Change’, not after that happened. Which is why for the past few years you’ve been doing it yourself.

It wasn’t difficult, and it was a lot cheaper, both wins in your book.

You walked around the hardware store, glancing at the shelves as you carried a new oil drain pan. You paused in front of the rows of motor oil, scanning the labels. Conventional had always worked fine for you, but maybe this time you'd splurge on the synthetic blend. It wasn't a huge decision, but it felt like a small act of treating yourself, in a way.

You were debating the pros and cons of the oil options when you heard the sound of someone walking up behind you.

"Didn’t peg you for the kind to do your own oil changes."

You turned your head and were met with Logan’s familiar gravelly voice. There he was again—of all places, he’d found you here in the auto section of the hardware store.

"Yeah, well, it's cheaper this way," you replied with a casual shrug, hoping to mask the slight surprise in your voice. You gestured to the oil in front of you. "What about you? Conventional or synthetic blend?"

Logan glanced at the shelf, then back at you. "Conventional. Gets the job done."

"Figures." You grinned a little, grabbing the conventional oil off the shelf. "Guess I’ll stick with what I know too, then."

He raised an eyebrow at you, but there was a hint of amusement behind his usual stoic demeanor. "Figured you’d be one to overthink it. Synthetic’s not all it’s cracked up to be."

You chuckled. "I’ll take your word for it, Mr. Oil Expert."

He grunted in response, grabbing something off the shelf for himself. For a moment, you both stood there, surrounded by tools and motor oil, neither of you saying much. It was kind of nice—quiet, comfortable in a way you wouldn’t have expected.

You shifted, holding the oil pan in your hands. "So, is Laura doing anything fun this weekend?"

Logan glanced at you, his face softening slightly at the mention of his daughter. "Not much. She likes to keep busy, but… this town ain’t exactly got a lot going on."

"True," you nodded, biting your lip as you tried to think of something. "She could come by and help me out with my garden, if she’s interested. I know she likes plants."

Logan looked at you, a little longer than usual, and you wondered if you’d crossed some kind of line offering something so personal. But then he nodded. "She’d probably like that."

"Cool," you said, feeling oddly relieved that you hadn’t messed up. "Let me know if she wants to. I could use an extra set of hands."

He gave a small nod, but his eyes lingered on you again for a second before he turned his attention back to the shelf. There was that same weight to his gaze, like he was always sizing things up, figuring people out.

"You know," you said, breaking the silence, "I’m starting to think you’re stalking me. First the grocery store, now here. Should I be worried?"

Logan snorted, shaking his head. "Pretty sure it’s the other way around."

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me? If anything, I’m just a simple schoolteacher who likes ice cream and doing her own oil changes. Hardly the stalking type."

"Sure," he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly into what could almost be considered a smile.

You felt your own lips tugging into a grin, and for a moment, it felt easier. Logan wasn’t always the easiest person to talk to, but something about these small, random moments with him made you feel more at ease than you expected.

"Well, good luck with your oil change," he said, turning to head down another aisle. "Maybe see you around."

"Yeah, see you around," you replied, watching him walk away before you continued shopping, a strange warmth lingering in your chest.

As you walked toward the checkout, you couldn’t help but think back on how natural it felt, just talking to him. There wasn’t any awkwardness or forced conversation—just two people running into each other at the hardware store. Nothing to overthink. Except, maybe, the fact that you were starting to like these encounters more than you’d like to admit.

---

Logan blew out a breath of his cigar smoke. Laura said she didn’t like it when he smoked inside so he started doing it outside on the porch.

A small added bonus was seeing you, a few houses down, across the street, currently underneath your car getting the oil to drain.

The door opened and shut behind him as Laura stepped out, “ella te gusta,” she said softly.

He let out a huff, “kid, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but I don’t know Spanish.”

Laura let out her own huff, sitting down next to Logan’s chair with her sketchbook, flipping it open. She didn’t say anything for a while, just started sketching in that intense, quiet way she had. Logan leaned back, puffing on his cigar, watching the smoke curl up into the air.

He caught himself glancing back across the street, where you were still working under your car. Laura's earlier comment lingered in his mind, even if he pretended not to know what it meant.

After a few minutes of silence, Laura looked up from her drawing. “You should go help her.”

Logan snorted, taking another puff of his cigar. “She’s fine. Knows what she’s doin’.”

Laura raised an eyebrow at him, her expression skeptical. “You’re always saying people shouldn’t be doin’ stuff like that alone. What if something happens?”

“Yeah, but she’s not helpless,” he grunted, though there was something in his tone that sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her.

Laura shrugged and went back to her sketch. “Still think you should.”

Logan glanced at her, then back at you. You were sliding out from under the car, wiping your hands on your jeans, looking like you’d handled it just fine. He grunted again, though this time it was more to himself.

“What are you drawing?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

Laura held up her sketchbook, showing him a detailed drawing of a plant—a vine with thorns twisting around a branch. It reminded him of your garden, something about the way the plants seemed to grow wild but still had a certain beauty to them.

“That for Ms. Aberra?” Logan asked, the name slipping out before he could stop it. He tried to keep his tone casual, but Laura shot him a knowing look.

“Maybe.” She shrugged, but there was a smirk playing on her lips. “She likes plants. Thought she’d like this.”

Logan just nodded, staying quiet. He wasn’t about to get into a conversation with an eleven-year-old about why he’d noticed things about your garden or how you seemed to have a way with plants. That wasn’t his style.

“Why don’t you go show her?” Logan suggested, nodding toward you as you gathered up your tools.

Laura seemed to think about it for a second, then shook her head. “Maybe later. She’s busy.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t push it. He knew better than to try and make Laura do something if she wasn’t in the mood. The kid had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Though he supposes it was his fault.

A teenage girl who was walking a dog, a tan pit bull, stopped in front of your driveway, the dog happily wagging its tail as it patiently waited for you to say hello.

You were still wiping the oil off your hands when you noticed the pair. "Hey, there.” You smiled as you crouched down to greet Juno, who leaned eagerly into your hand, her tail wagging excitedly. "How are you, Juno?" you cooed, giving the pit bull a good scratch behind the ears.

The teenage girl holding the leash smiled politely. “She’s been dying to see you again,” she said, giving the leash a little slack so the dog could get closer.

"Well, I’m always happy to see her." You grinned as the dog nudged your leg, clearly wanting more attention. "Been a busy evening?”

The girl shrugged. “Yeah, but Juno here makes it better. You know how it is.”

You nodded. "Definitely. Plants are my version of Juno. Or baking, it’s hard to decide.”

The girl chuckled lightly before glancing at the car behind you. “Doing your own oil change?”

"Yep," you said, standing up and wiping your hands again on the rag. "Easier and cheaper than going to a shop."

She raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. I wouldn’t even know where to start."

“You’d be surprised how easy it is. YouTube tutorials, mostly,” you said, shrugging as you wiped your hands on the rag.

The girl smiled. "I might have to try that next time. If I don’t mess up my car in the process.”

You laughed. "That’s what the tutorials are for. But yeah, it’s not too bad. You’d get the hang of it."

As you chatted with the girl for a bit longer, Juno continued to happily soak up the attention. You scratched behind her ears one more time before standing up straight. “Well, good luck with the rest of your walk. Always nice seeing you two.”

“Same here,” the girl replied, tugging gently on Juno’s leash. “C’mon, girl. Let’s get home.”

You waved as they continued down the street, Juno looking back at you with her tail wagging. With a satisfied sigh, you turned back to finish cleaning up, putting away the oil pan and bottles of motor oil.

Across the street, Logan puffed his cigar, watching as you gathered your tools and wiped your hands one more time. Laura had gone back to her sketching, though every now and then she’d glance up at him with that same look.

“She’s done now,” Laura said after a moment, still sketching.

“I can see that,” Logan grumbled, tapping ash off the end of his cigar.

“Still think you should go help,” she added, not even bothering to look up this time.

Logan huffed, staring at you as you double-checked your work and began packing up. He didn’t need to help—you were obviously handling everything just fine. But still, there was something about the way you worked so methodically, so determined. You’d done it all yourself, like you didn’t need anyone’s help. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling, though, that maybe he wanted to offer it anyway.

“Kid, you sure know how to push buttons,” he muttered under his breath.

Laura just smirked, flipping another page in her sketchbook.

Logan grumbled to himself for a moment longer before standing up from his chair, tapping out the last of his cigar in the ashtray. “Stay here.”

He walked across the street toward your driveway, hands in his jacket pockets, his eyes set on you as you knelt by the toolbox, sorting through the remaining tools.

“You done already?” he called out, making his presence known.

You glanced up, not expecting to see him again so soon. “Yeah, just finished up,” you replied, standing up and wiping your hands on the rag again. “What about you? Something break down?”

“Nah, just figured I’d see if you needed any help,” he said, his tone casual, though you could tell it wasn’t exactly his style to offer assistance without a reason.

You raised an eyebrow, smiling a little. “You offering to help after the job’s already done?”

"Guess I am," Logan replied with a hint of a smirk, his eyes not quite meeting yours.

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, it's the thought that counts, I suppose. Next time, I’ll be sure to save the hardest part for you."

"Yeah, you do that," he said, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. He shifted his weight slightly, glancing over at the now-finished oil change. "You do this kind of thing often? Or just the oil changes?"

"Mostly just the oil changes," you admitted, as you leaned in closer like you were telling a secret. “I went on a few dates with Mavin’s son the first few months I was here and didn’t go over well. Now he overcharges me.” You held up your hands, “but if it’s something complicated, I promise I drive 30 minutes to the city to get it checked out.”

Logan's eyes flickered with interest, the corners of his mouth twitching into something resembling a smile. "That right? Well, can't say I'm surprised. Mavin's a bit of a jerk."

You chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yeah, he wasn't thrilled about me ghosting his son, that's for sure. But hey, I learned how to change my own oil, so I guess something good came out of it."

Logan grunted in agreement, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't say much after that, his eyes lingering on you as if he were trying to piece together something that didn't quite fit. You had a feeling he wasn't used to people like you—people who seemed to find their way into his life, one way or another.

"Well," you said, breaking the silence, "thanks for the offer, even if the job’s already done." You smiled, a little uncertain about what to do next. "Guess I'll see you around."

He nodded, but didn't make a move to leave. "Laura likes you, you know."

That caught you off guard. "Oh," you replied, a bit flustered. "Well, I like her too. She's a good kid. Smart, but... you already know that."

"Yeah," Logan muttered, his voice softer than usual. "She doesn’t open up to many people. But you... you’re different."

You weren't sure how to respond to that, so you just nodded, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through your chest. "I’m glad she feels comfortable around me. She’s been through a lot."

Logan's eyes darkened slightly, a shadow passing over his features. "More than most," he agreed, his voice rough with something that sounded a lot like guilt.

You wanted to reach out, to say something that might make him feel better, but words failed you. So instead, you just stood there, the silence stretching between you, not awkward but charged with something unspoken.

"Anyway," Logan said, clearing his throat as if to shake off the heavy moment. "If you ever need help with the car, you know where to find me. Or Laura."

You smiled, feeling that warmth again. "I’ll keep that in mind. And if you two ever need help with, I don’t know, math homework or... anything else, you know where to find me."

He nodded, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Noted."

You watched as he turned to leave, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. As he walked back toward his house, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something more than just friendly encounters at the store.

---

During lunch, you sat in your classroom, enjoying 30 minutes of peace and quiet before the kids came back into the room. The soft hum of the heater filled the space, making the room feel warmer than usual as you flipped through the stack of quizzes you needed to grade. The formulas and diagrams were a blur as your mind drifted back to the weekend, specifically to Logan.

The way he’d offered to help with your oil change, the quiet moments that had followed—it was so unlike him. Or maybe, you realized, you just didn’t know him well enough yet. Either way, something about it had left you feeling... something.

A soft knock on the doorframe pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Emma standing in the doorway, that cheeky grin on her face.

“So,” she started, stepping inside your classroom. “I hear you’re making friends with a certain someone across the street.”

You rolled your eyes, setting down the quiz you’d been half-grading. “I’m not ‘making friends.’ We just happen to run into each other.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Mhm. Sure. Totally normal for him to come help with your oil change, right?”

"My God, how do you know?" you asked, eyes widening in disbelief as you sat back in your chair.

Emma smirked, leaning against the doorway like she had all the time in the world. "Small town. You know how people talk." She paused, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Besides, you’re not exactly subtle. Logan? The gruff guy across the street? It’s hard to miss that you two have been... running into each other more than usual."

You sighed, rubbing your temple. "It’s not like that. He just offered to help with my car, and Laura—"

Emma’s grin widened. "Ah, Laura. That’s the key, isn’t it? I’ve seen how she looks at you. That kid doesn’t warm up to just anyone. She’s a little... prickly, but with you? She’s different."

"She’s a good kid," you said, trying to deflect. "She’s been through a lot, you know? I just think she needs someone to talk to. Someone who’s not... intimidating."

"Sure, sure," Emma teased, walking further into the room and sitting on the edge of one of the desks. "But you can’t tell me there isn’t something more going on between you and Logan. I mean, come on. He doesn’t exactly strike me as the ‘friendly neighbor’ type. More like ‘leave me alone or I’ll stab you with my claws’ type."

You chuckled despite yourself. "Okay, yeah, he’s not exactly Mr. Rogers. But it’s not like we’re... you know, it’s just—"

"Flirting?" Emma offered with a raised eyebrow.

"Friendly," you corrected quickly, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. "It’s just friendly. He’s Laura’s dad, and we’ve talked a few times, but that’s it."

Emma gave you a knowing look. "Uh-huh. Sure. And I’m the Queen of England."

You groaned, pushing your quizzes aside. "Why are you so obsessed with this?"

"Because," Emma said with a shrug, "it’s about time you had a little fun in this town. You spend all your time either at school or working on that garden of yours. You deserve to have a life outside of grading papers and pulling weeds."

"I have a life," you protested.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Really? And when was the last time you went on a date?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but quickly closed it, realizing you didn’t have a good answer. "Okay, fine," you admitted, "it’s been a while. But that doesn’t mean—"

"Exactly my point," Emma interrupted, flashing a triumphant grin. "Look, I’m not saying you have to marry the guy. But Logan? He’s clearly interested. And I think you are too."

"Okay… even if I was interested, I’m pretty sure a guy like that doesn’t have dating or relationships on his mind. Especially with someone like me." You leaned back in your chair, feeling a mix of frustration and doubt.

Emma gave you a skeptical look, shaking her head. "Someone like you? Come on, Y/N. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re smart, funny, and clearly, Logan thinks you’re worth his time. He’s not just helping anyone with an oil change, believe me."

You sighed, crossing your arms. "It’s not that simple. You know what he’s been through. And Laura... she’s been through so much already. I’m not about to mess with their lives."

Emma smirked, tapping her fingers on the desk. "Mess with their lives? Or make their lives better? Laura clearly likes you, Y/N. She’s practically glued to your side when you’re around. And Logan? He’s different with you. I see it."

You frowned, picking up a pen and twirling it between your fingers. "Laura’s nice to me, yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. She’s indifferent to most of the other teachers, and she barely talks in class. I don’t even know if she likes me, or if it’s just... I don’t know."

"She doesn’t warm up to just anyone," Emma pointed out. "You’re different. She looks at you like she trusts you, and Logan trusts you too, whether he shows it or not. That’s not something that happens often with them. They’re... well, guarded, for obvious reasons."

You were quiet for a moment, thinking about Laura. It was true—she was quiet, distant with others, but with you? There was something different. She’d even started staying after class sometimes, just sitting there while you graded papers or prepped for the next lesson. And Logan? He was always nearby, watching, but never intruding.

Still, the idea of anything happening between you and Logan felt... complicated. "Even if he did trust me, it’s not like he’s the type to be thinking about relationships. The man’s got enough on his plate. And me? I’ve got work, and... I’m not exactly relationship material."

Emma laughed, shaking her head. "Please, Y/N. If anyone deserves a chance at something real, it’s you. You’ve spent so long taking care of everyone else—your students, your job. Maybe it’s time to let someone take care of you for a change."

You looked at her, skeptical. "You think Logan is the type to 'take care of' someone?"

She smirked. "He already is. He’s just doing it in his own way. And trust me, the way he looks at you? There’s more there than you realize. You just have to stop overthinking it."

Before you could respond, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Emma stood up, giving you one last knowing smile before heading for the door. "Just think about it, Y/N. Sometimes, the best things happen when you least expect them."

You watched her go, your mind still swirling with doubt and a tiny sliver of hope. Could there really be something more between you and Logan? Or was it just your imagination?

As your students started filing back into the room, you pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the rest of the day. But even as you taught your lessons and graded papers, Logan lingered in the back of your mind.

---

Later that evening, you found yourself in the garden, pulling weeds and trying to clear your head. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm orange glow over the small town. You liked this time of day—the quiet, the calm.

Just as you were settling into the rhythm of pulling weeds, you heard footsteps behind you. Turning around, you saw Logan standing there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"Need any help?" he asked, his gruff voice breaking the silence.

You blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, with the garden? I’m just pulling weeds."

He shrugged, stepping closer. "Doesn’t hurt to have an extra set of hands."

You smiled, feeling a bit awkward but oddly touched by the offer. "Sure, if you’re up for it."

Logan crouched down next to you, pulling at the weeds without saying much. The two of you worked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the rustling of plants and the distant hum of traffic.

Eventually, you spoke up, trying to break the tension. "So... Laura’s been doing well in class. She’s quiet, but I think she’s starting to come out of her shell a bit."

Logan glanced at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Yeah? That’s good to hear. She doesn’t talk much at home either."

"She’s a smart kid," you added, pulling another weed. "But I think... she could use someone to talk to. Someone she feels safe with."

Logan was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "She’s been through a lot. Trust doesn’t come easy for her."

You hesitated, then asked, "What about you? Do you feel safe here?"

He looked at you, his expression softening just a little. "Safer than I’ve felt in a long time."

That simple admission hit you harder than you expected. Logan, this gruff, guarded man, was letting his walls down, even just a little. It made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

"That’s good," you said quietly, your eyes meeting his. "I’m glad."

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The quiet between you felt heavy but not uncomfortable. Logan’s presence was grounding, solid in a way that made you feel... safe too.

Finally, he broke the silence. "I appreciate what you’ve done for Laura. She doesn’t trust many people, but with you... it’s different."

You shrugged, trying to downplay it. "I’m just doing my job. She’s a good kid, like I said."

Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. "It’s more than that. She trusts you. And... so do I."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. There was something unspoken in the air between you, something neither of you was ready to address. But it was there, simmering just below the surface.

"Logan, I—"

Before you could finish, he stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. "Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it."

You stood up too, feeling the weight of what was left unsaid hanging in the air. "Thanks for the help."

He gave a brief nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he turned to leave. "Anytime."

As you watched him walk away, your heart was pounding in your chest. There was no denying it now—there was something between you and Logan. Something real. And it scared you just as much as it excited you.

---

Parent-teacher conferences always stressed you out. Gathering all your students’ information, organizing it all, it was hectic and unreasonable. You couldn’t understand why an email didn’t suffice.

Possibly the worst thing about it is the fact it took place in the school gym, which had no AC. The heat was almost unbearable, making your clothes stick to your skin as you shuffled through your notes, waiting for the next parent to arrive to your table.

The gym was packed, parents and their kids moving between tables as they talked to teachers, making the already stifling room feel even hotter. You fanned yourself with the stack of notes you’d organized earlier, feeling sweat prickle at your back.

You glanced at your list of appointments, sighing when you saw who was next: Logan. You hadn't expected him to come. Laura was doing well enough in your class, but she wasn’t exactly the type to care about grades. You figured Logan would be the same—practical, but not overly concerned about school meetings.

You straightened up, glancing around to see him approaching with Laura by his side. She looked slightly uncomfortable, her arms crossed and her gaze focused anywhere but the gym, while Logan was, well... Logan. His expression was gruff, unreadable as usual, but there was something in his eyes that softened when he saw you.

“Ms. Aberra,” Logan greeted as he reached your table, giving you a nod.

“Logan,” you said, smiling at Laura. “And Laura. How are you two doing?”

Laura shrugged, barely meeting your gaze. Logan pulled out the chair for her, and she reluctantly sat down, still quiet. He stayed standing, leaning on the back of the chair, watching you with that familiar intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said lightly, trying to ease the tension. “Laura’s doing fine in class. Really, there’s not much to talk about.”

Logan glanced at Laura, then back at you. “Figured I’d come by anyway. See how things are goin’.”

You nodded, pulling up Laura’s grades on your tablet. “Well, like I said, she’s doing great. She’s one of the best in the class, actually. Quiet, but I can tell she’s always thinking.”

Laura’s face remained impassive, but there was the slightest twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips.

“She’s got potential,” you continued, looking at Logan. “Especially in science. I think she’d be great at anything she wanted to do, honestly.”

Logan grunted in response, but there was a proud glint in his eye. “That’s good to hear.”

Laura finally spoke up, her voice quiet but clear. “I like science. And math.”

You smiled, surprised by her willingness to engage. “Well, you’re really good at it. I was thinking, if you ever wanted, there are some extracurriculars coming up. Science club, math competitions—stuff like that. It might be fun.”

Laura glanced at Logan, who simply shrugged. “Up to you, kid.”

She seemed to think about it for a moment, then nodded slightly. “Maybe.”

“Well, no pressure,” you said, trying to keep it casual. “You can always decide later.”

There was an awkward pause as you flipped through the rest of Laura’s grades, though there wasn’t much else to say. She was excelling, especially considering her background. You couldn’t help but feel a little protective over her, knowing what she’d been through.

“So, uh, anything else you need to know?” you asked, looking back up at Logan.

He shook his head. “Just wanted to check in, make sure she’s on track.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth in his words even if he didn’t show it. “She’s doing great. Really.”

Logan gave you a brief nod, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than necessary before he straightened up. “Thanks.”

You watched as he turned to Laura, ready to leave, but she didn’t stand just yet. Instead, she glanced between the two of you, her brow furrowed slightly like she was piecing something together.

“Are you... friends?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the noise of the gym.

You blinked, taken aback by the question. Logan seemed just as surprised, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly recovered.

“Well,” you said slowly, glancing at Logan for a cue. “I guess you could say that.”

Logan cleared his throat, crossing his arms. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”

Laura’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she didn’t quite believe it but wasn’t going to argue. “Okay.”

She stood up, her chair scraping against the floor as she started toward the exit. Logan hesitated for a moment, giving you one last look before following her. “See you around,” he said, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

You watched them go, feeling that strange mix of emotions again—the warmth, the uncertainty, the possibility of something more. As the door closed behind them, you realized that, for once, you didn’t mind the heat. It was a small town, and people noticed everything. But you were starting to wonder if maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Laura grabbed his hand as they exited the gym, having already seen her other teachers. She looked up at Logan, as he stared straight ahead at the truck in the parking lot. “Creo que ella te gusta.”

He let out a huff, “kid, don’t know how many times I gotta say it, but I don’t know Spanish.”

Laura gave him a sidelong glance, clearly unimpressed by his response. "You should learn," she muttered under her breath, squeezing his hand as they reached the truck.

Logan grunted as he fumbled for the keys, a slight wince crossing his features as he slid into the driver’s seat. He glanced at Laura, who was already buckling herself in without a word. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t quite easy either.

He turned the key in the ignition, the truck sputtering to life as he pulled out of the parking lot. His mind wandered back to the parent-teacher conference, and specifically to Y/N. She’d always been good with Laura, he could see that. But lately, something about her seemed to calm him too—a feeling he wasn’t used to and didn’t quite know how to handle.

“You like her,” Laura said, breaking the silence with her blunt observation. It wasn’t a question.

Logan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “She’s a good teacher. You like her, too.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Laura said, crossing her arms. “You act different when she’s around. You don’t growl as much.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, though it lacked any real humor. “I don’t growl.”

“Yes, you do,” Laura said, looking out the window. “But not at her.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. Instead, he focused on the road, trying to push away the thoughts circling in his mind. He wasn’t a man used to... feelings, especially not ones that left him unsure. But Y/N had a way of sneaking under his defenses, and that scared him more than he’d like to admit.

“I like her,” Laura said quietly after a long stretch of silence.

Logan glanced at her, surprised by the soft admission. Laura didn’t trust people easily, and she certainly didn’t like many. But her words carried weight, especially to him.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

Laura nodded, still looking out the window. “She’s not like the others. She doesn’t treat me like I’m different.”

Logan felt a knot in his chest loosen, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the relief of knowing Laura had found someone she trusted, or maybe it was the way Y/N had already become a part of their lives, without him even realizing it. Either way, he didn’t say anything more, just drove the rest of the way home in silence, lost in his own thoughts.

---

The next morning, you thanked the stars that it was Saturday. You were exhausted from the large amount of human interaction last night and decided to sleep in a bit before tending to the garden.

After that, and taking a shower, you slipped into comfortable clothes, some small shorts and a large t-shirt that covered the shorts, since it only getting warmer outside.

Even with that said, you couldn’t help but crave chocolate chip cookies, thanking the stars once again that you had all the ingredients.

You turned on the oven, allowing it to pre-heat, as you grabbed a mixing bowl and walked around your small kitchen looking for the ingredients listed on your worn-out piece of paper. You still hadn’t memorized the recipe after making it for years.

The doorbell ringed as you poked your head out the side of your kitchen. When you answered it, you were pleasantly surprised to find Laura outside, wearing what you could only describe as a cute grey shirt with a colorful bear on it. You’d never say it to her, she’d probably leave if you said she looked cute.

“Hey, Laura. D’you need anything?”

“Daddy said I could help with the garden.” She spoke softly.

“Oof, sorry kiddo. Already did it this morning.” You looked back inside your house before turning back to Laura, “though, I could use some help making cookies.”

Laura hesitated for a second, her dark eyes studying you as if trying to decide whether this was worth her time. You were still getting used to her quiet, guarded nature, but you’d learned quickly that she was different around you compared to other people. It was like you had some sort of unspoken understanding, even if you didn’t fully get why.

“Okay,” she finally said, stepping past you into the house.

You closed the door behind her, walking back into the kitchen and grabbing a second mixing bowl. “You ever make cookies before?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at her.

Laura shook her head, standing by the counter as she watched you.

“Well, today’s your lucky day. I’m about to show you the magic of sugar, butter, and chocolate chips.” You grinned as you started measuring out the ingredients. “Can you hand me the brown sugar?”

She scanned the countertop before reaching for the brown sugar, silently passing it to you. You got the feeling she wasn’t used to this kind of thing—normal, mundane stuff like baking cookies on a lazy Saturday. Not that you knew her whole story or anything, but you’d heard enough about Logan and his complicated life to guess Laura hadn’t had a typical upbringing.

As you started mixing the butter and sugar together, you tried to think of something to say. Conversations with Laura could be tricky; she wasn’t the chatty type, and you didn’t want to push her too much.

“So,” you started, keeping your tone casual, “what’s Logan up to today?”

She shrugged. “Resting.”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Logan resting was a good thing. You knew he’d been having a rough time lately with his health, even though he wasn’t the type to admit it. You figured he was just being stubborn, refusing to slow down even though it was clear his healing wasn’t what it used to be.

Laura remained silent, watching as you added the flour to the mix.

“You wanna stir?” you asked, offering her the spatula.

She looked at it for a moment before stepping closer and taking it from you. Her movements were careful, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but smile as she focused on the task.

“Nice job,” you said, giving her a thumbs-up. “You’ve got a future in cookie-making, I can tell.”

Laura didn’t react much, but you swore you saw the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes.

As she stirred, you reached for the chocolate chips. “Best part of making cookies—sneaking a few of these before they go in the dough.” You tossed a couple into your mouth, then held the bag out to her.

She paused, looking at the chocolate chips like she wasn’t sure what to do. After a second, she picked one up and ate it, chewing thoughtfully.

You chuckled. “See? Told you it’s the best part.”

Laura kept stirring the dough while you got the baking sheets ready. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just… quiet. You didn’t mind it, though. Laura wasn’t the type of kid who needed constant conversation, and you appreciated that about her.

As she worked, you glanced at her again, feeling a strange sense of protectiveness. You didn’t know what exactly she’d been through, but whatever it was, you could tell it had shaped her into someone far older than her years.

When the dough was ready, you started scooping it onto the trays. “Almost done,” you said. “Then it’s just a waiting game while they bake.”

Laura nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she watched you.

You slid the trays into the oven and set the timer before turning back to her. “You want some water or anything while we wait?”

She shook her head, her eyes still on the oven like she was trying to figure out why people made such a big deal out of cookies.

“Well, I’m grabbing a drink.” You poured yourself a glass of water, leaning against the counter as you sipped. “It’ll take around 12 minutes for them to finish. Then we put in another batch, and another until the dough has all been used.”

Laura gave a small nod, her eyes still focused on the oven. It was like she was trying to figure out if all this waiting was actually worth it.

You studied her for a moment, wondering what was going on in that head of hers. She never really said much, but it was clear there was a lot happening behind those dark, watchful eyes. You weren’t exactly sure why she’d taken to you, but you were grateful for it. Laura didn’t let many people in, that much was obvious.

“I can show you a movie. Or maybe some music? I usually play somethin’ while I wait.”

Laura glanced up at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Music,” she said quietly.

You smiled, glad she was at least open to that. “Cool. Let’s see what we got.” You pulled out your phone and scrolled through your playlist, landing on something mellow, nothing too upbeat or distracting. You hit play, letting the soft sounds of a guitar fill the room.

Laura leaned against the counter, listening, her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn’t fidgety or impatient, just quiet, like she was absorbing everything around her.

You took another sip of water, watching her from the corner of your eye. “You ever help Logan with stuff like this? Like cooking?”

She shook her head. “No.”

You figured as much. “Well, if he ever asks, you’ll be a pro now.” You winked at her, earning the tiniest of shrugs in return.

You both stood there in a comfortable silence, letting the music play. It wasn’t awkward, just… peaceful. The smell of the cookies starting to bake filled the kitchen, and for a moment, it was easy to forget all the heavy stuff hanging in the air—Logan’s health, Laura’s past, whatever weight she carried that you didn’t fully understand yet.

After a few minutes, Laura spoke up. “I talked to Logan about you… last night.”

You paused, surprised she’d bring it up. “Oh yeah? What’d he say?”

She didn’t answer right away, her gaze fixed on the oven. “He said you’re... different from other people. In a good way.”

A warmth crept into your chest at that. “Well, that’s nice of him to say. I think he’s pretty different too, you know. In a good way.”

Laura looked at you, her expression unreadable. “He likes you,” she said, her tone flat, but there was something in the way she said it, like it was a fact she was still processing.

You felt your cheeks heat up a little. “Yeah? Well… I like him too.”

She stared at you for a moment longer before nodding slowly, like she was piecing something together in her head. “He doesn’t trust people. But he trusts you.”

You swallowed, not quite sure how to respond to that. “I’m glad he does. I mean… I care about him, Laura. And you too.”

Laura’s eyes flickered with something—maybe understanding, maybe something else you couldn’t quite name. She didn’t say anything for a while, just looked down at the floor.

Before the silence could stretch too long, the oven timer beeped, cutting through the moment.

“Cookies are done,” you said, turning to grab the oven mitts. You pulled the trays out, setting them on the counter to cool. The smell was even stronger now, warm and sweet, filling the entire kitchen. “Wanna taste test one?”

Laura hesitated for a second before nodding.

You carefully lifted a cookie from the tray, holding it out to her. “Careful, it’s hot.”

She took it, blowing on it before taking a small bite. You watched as she chewed, her face still neutral, but you could tell she liked it.

“Good, right?” you asked, biting into one yourself.

Laura nodded again, chewing slowly. For a split second, you thought you saw a hint of a smile tug at the corner of her mouth, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.

As you both stood there, munching on cookies, the air felt lighter, like some kind of invisible barrier between you had shifted just a little. You didn’t know all of Laura’s story, but you didn’t need to. What mattered was that she was here, sharing this small moment with you, and that was enough.

“So,” you said after a few minutes, breaking the silence. “What should we do next? More cookies? Or maybe try out that movie?”

Laura looked at the remaining dough, then back at you. “More cookies.”

You grinned. “Good choice. Let’s make this batch even better.”

---

After all the cookies came out of the oven, you sent Laura home with a container of some of the batch. You could never eat them all on your own, and you ended up giving some away anyways, so why not give some to Laura?

You walked Laura to your front door and watched as she crossed the street, her figure disappearing behind the door three houses down. There was always something surreal about the way she moved—so quiet, so controlled, like she had learned to blend into the background. It made you wonder what her life had been like before coming here.

When Laura walked in, the container held tightly to her chest, Logan sat on the couch, the soft murmur of the TV barely audible as he sipped from a whiskey bottle. His eyes flicked over to her as the door clicked shut behind her.

“You were gone a while,” he muttered, his voice rough but not harsh.

Laura shrugged, walking past him toward the kitchen. “Made cookies.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, watching her disappear from view. The faint clinking of a container hitting the counter reached his ears. He knew she didn’t do stuff like this unless someone dragged her into it. “With Y/N?” he asked, taking another sip.

Laura reappeared, nodding as she plopped down beside him on the couch, the container of cookies now on the coffee table.

Logan stared at it for a moment, then gave a small grunt of approval. He reached over and grabbed a cookie from the container, breaking off a piece and popping it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, savoring the sweetness that felt out of place in his usual world of bitterness and whiskey.

“Not bad,” he muttered, glancing at Laura. “You help with these?”

She shrugged again, still watching the TV, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her expression that didn’t go unnoticed by Logan.

“Hmm,” he grunted, leaning back. “Maybe next time, you can bring some whiskey to wash ‘em down.”

Laura didn’t smile, but her lips twitched slightly as if she was trying not to.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, the low hum of the TV filling the room. Logan’s thoughts drifted back to Y/N. He didn’t trust people easily—never had, and probably never would. But Y/N was different. He’d seen how she handled Laura, how she didn’t push too hard or ask too many questions. And she was patient, something Logan knew he didn’t have much of.

“Y/N’s a good one,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Laura didn’t say anything, but she shifted slightly, leaning her head against the arm of the couch.

Logan watched her for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. He knew settling down wasn’t really in his nature, but for Laura’s sake—and maybe a bit for his own—he was trying. And Y/N? She made that easier, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“She ask about me?” Logan asked, more curious than he wanted to let on.

Laura nodded, her eyes still on the screen. “Yeah. I told her you were resting.”

Logan snorted. “Resting. That’s a nice way of putting it.”

Laura didn’t respond, and Logan didn’t push further. He knew what Y/N probably thought—that he was just some grumpy guy with a limp, maybe a few too many scars for comfort. She didn’t know the half of it. But she didn’t pry either, and for that, he was grateful.

“Guess I’ll have to thank her for the cookies,” Logan said after a while, taking another sip from the bottle. His mind wandered to the thought of Y/N—the way she smiled when she was around Laura, how she always seemed to have the right balance of patience and understanding. It wasn’t just anyone who could handle a kid like Laura, let alone make her feel comfortable enough to bake cookies on a Saturday.

“She likes you too, you know,” Laura said suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Logan’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Y/N,” Laura clarified, her tone as flat as ever. “She likes you.”

Logan chuckled, though there was a bit of discomfort behind it. “You don’t know that, kid.”

Laura looked at him, her gaze piercing and a little too wise for someone her age. “She does. I can tell.”

Logan stared back at her, caught off guard by how matter-of-fact she sounded. It was hard to argue with Laura when she had that look on her face, the same look that said she saw through everything and didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

He cleared his throat, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, well… that’s her problem, not mine.”

Laura didn’t react, just turned back to the TV. But Logan could feel her eyes on him for a few seconds longer before she settled back into the cushions.

Logan shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of Laura’s words hanging in the air. He wasn’t used to people ‘liking’ him in the way Laura seemed to imply. People tolerated him, sure, maybe even respected him, but liking him? That was new territory.

He let out a sigh and reached for another cookie. It wasn’t worth thinking about. Not right now.

But even as he chewed in silence, he couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N—and what it might mean if Laura was right.

---

A few days later, you found yourself at Logan’s house helping Laura with some of her English homework. You usually don’t make ‘house calls’ to help students, but you couldn’t deny Laura.

Logan stayed seated in the living room, drinking a beer and watching the TV. But really, he was pretending not to listen to their conversation in the kitchen.

“You’re doing good, Laura.” You said.

Laura shrugged, her eyes flicking over to Logan in the living room. “Can you stay for dinner?” She asked you.

Logan’s head snapped up at that. He hadn’t expected Laura to ask, but there was no denying that the kid had gotten attached to you. Before you could answer, Laura added, “I made something. With Logan.”

That was a lie, of course. Laura had barely touched the stove since the cookies, but she gave Logan a look that told him to back her up.

Y/N smiled softly. “I wouldn’t say no to dinner.” She glanced at Logan. “If that’s okay?”

Logan grunted, shifting his weight. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

Laura gave a small nod, clearly satisfied with the answer. You smiled, pushing the papers aside. “Guess I’m staying for dinner, then.”

Logan shot Laura a look, one that said what exactly are we eating? but she ignored him, turning her attention back to you. “It’s nothing fancy,” she said, which wasn’t reassuring.

“Well, I’m excited. Food always tastes better when someone else cooks it,” you joked, standing up to stretch your arms.

Logan watched you from the corner of his eye as he sat back down on the couch, pretending to be more interested in the muted TV than he actually was. You couldn’t help but notice the way he seemed a little tenser whenever you were around, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He was trying to stay low-key, but you could tell he was keeping tabs on every move you made, every word you said.

“So, what’s on the menu?” you asked, trying to ease the quiet that had settled over the room.

Laura, sitting across from you, didn’t answer right away, like she was carefully considering her next move. Logan’s eyes flicked over to her, waiting for her response.

“Spaghetti,” she finally said, her voice as flat as ever.

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Oh yeah? Sounds good.”

Logan gave a low grunt from the couch, and you could tell by his expression that he was trying to figure out when they’d supposedly made spaghetti. But he didn’t contradict Laura, just took another swig from his beer.

“Well, I’m looking forward to it,” you said, standing up from the kitchen table. “Let me know if you need any help.”

Laura didn’t say anything, just headed to the stove where a pot of water was already simmering. You followed her, glancing at the nearly-empty box of spaghetti on the counter. It was clear she hadn’t done this a lot, but the effort was what mattered. And if it meant spending more time with her—and Logan—you weren’t about to complain.

“I’ll get the sauce going,” you offered, stepping beside her. Laura gave you a slight nod, sliding over to make room.

Logan watched from the couch, his eyes narrowing as if he was weighing the situation. He hadn’t expected you to just roll with it, but then again, you always had a way of adapting.

“So, how’s school?” you asked Laura, trying to keep the conversation light while you opened the jar of sauce.

“It’s fine,” she said, her tone noncommittal.

You stirred the sauce, giving a little shrug. “Well, if you ever need help with any other type of homework, you know where to find me.”

She glanced up at you, her expression unreadable, but something in her eyes softened for a second. “I know.”

The two of you worked in quiet sync, with Laura focusing on the pasta and you keeping an eye on the sauce. It wasn’t long before the kitchen started to smell of tomatoes and garlic, the scent filling the air and making the small space feel cozy. For a while, the only sounds were the bubbling pot and the clinking of utensils.

Logan shifted on the couch, clearing his throat. “Need me to do anything?”

You glanced back at him with a smile. “Just sit there and look pretty, Logan. We’ve got this.”

A low chuckle escaped him, though his face didn’t change much. “That so?”

Laura glanced at Logan, her expression unreadable, but you caught the briefest hint of approval in her eyes before she turned back to stirring the pasta.

Once everything was ready, you and Laura brought the food to the small dining table. You plated up the spaghetti, topping it with sauce and a sprinkle of Parmesan. Logan joined you both, moving slower than he probably realized, and sat down with a grunt.

As you all ate, the room stayed comfortably quiet. It wasn’t one of those forced silences that felt awkward—it was more like everyone was just settling into the moment. Laura was still guarded, but you could tell she was starting to relax, even if it was just a little.

“You did good, Laura,” you said, twirling some spaghetti on your fork. “This tastes great.”

She didn’t say anything, just kept eating, but you saw her shoulders ease up ever so slightly.

Logan, on the other hand, glanced between the two of you, chewing slowly. He hadn’t been big on cooking or anything domestic like this, but he could tell Laura had put in effort. He took another bite, grunting his approval. “Not bad,” he said quietly.

You smiled to yourself. This whole thing wasn’t exactly what you’d planned for the evening, but it was nice in its own way—just simple, like normal people having dinner together.

As you were finishing up, Logan pushed his chair back, grabbing his beer bottle from the table. “I’ll handle the cleanup,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.

You raised an eyebrow, standing to gather a few plates. “You sure?”

Logan waved you off. “Yeah. Laura and I got it.”

You nodded, stepping back. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it then.”

Laura watched you quietly, her dark eyes flicking between you and Logan. You could tell she wasn’t used to this kind of thing, the casual ease of sharing a meal and cleaning up afterward. But she was learning, and it seemed like she didn’t mind having you around for it.

“Well,” you said, grabbing your bag from the chair. “Thanks for dinner, you two. I’ll see you around?”

Logan grunted in acknowledgment, giving you a nod. Laura followed you to the door, her small figure standing by your side as you reached for the handle.

Before you could leave, she spoke up. “Will you come over again?” Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

You smiled softly. “Of course. Anytime.”

She nodded, her face still unreadable, but there was a certain calmness to her now, a trust that hadn’t been there before.

You gave her a little wave before stepping out into the evening air. As you walked back to your house, you couldn’t help but think about how unexpected this had all been.

---

You muttered to yourself, hanging up the phone. Your sink had started to leak, and even though you were fairly handy, when you tightened the pipes, it did nothing.

So here you were, on your lunch break, looking for a handyman that didn’t want to charge you $200 for a quick fix.

Emma walked in, holding a folder with her lesson plans. “So…”

You rolled your eyes, “don’t start.”

“What! I’ve told you, word travels fast. Rose saw you leavin’ his house last night.”

“Rose?” You shook your head, “that woman is 85 and still gossips like she’s 20.” You put your phone down, “I was helping Laura with her English homework.”

"Helping Laura with her English homework?" Emma raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "You mean, at ten o'clock at night? Sure, Y/N."

You groaned, leaning back in your chair. “It wasn’t like that. She’s struggling with some of the writing prompts, and Logan’s... well, you know he’s not exactly the best person for that.”

“Uh-huh,” Emma nodded slowly, setting her folder down. “I’m just saying, you and him… there’s something there. You can deny it all you want, but people see things.”

“People need hobbies,” you muttered. “Besides, Logan’s... complicated. It’s not that simple.”

“I’m not saying it is,” she shrugged. “But you’ve been spending more and more time with him and Laura lately. I’m just curious.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “Curious about what, exactly?”

“Just curious when you're going to admit you like him,” Emma smirked.

“I don’t—" you started to argue, but stopped yourself. “Emma, he’s… I mean, I care about him, but it’s not like that. He’s a single dad with a kid, and I’m just the neighbor who helps out sometimes.”

“Yeah, sure, Y/N.” Emma grabbed her folder and gave you a pointed look, “if you don’t make a move, someone on the ‘Wolverine Watchers’ will.”

You choked on the iced coffee you took a sip of, “the what?”

Emma grinned, “the ‘Wolverine Watchers’. A bunch of women in the town created a Facebook group about him. I joined out of curiosity.”

You blinked at Emma, still processing what she’d just said. “Hold on—there’s a Facebook group about Logan? Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Emma said with a smug smile. “They call themselves the ‘Wolverine Watchers.’ There’s, like, at least 30 women in it. Maybe more.”

You shook your head in disbelief, sinking back into your chair. “That’s insane. Why would anyone even...”

“Oh, please,” Emma interrupted. “Don’t act like you don’t get it. He’s rugged, mysterious, barely speaks to anyone, and he’s got the whole grumpy-silver-fox thing going on. They eat it up. Hell, even I get it.”

You glared at her. “You’re not helping.”

She leaned against the desk, still grinning. “Just saying, don’t wait too long, or one of them might swoop in.”

You waved her off, though a part of you felt oddly defensive about the whole thing. “Logan’s not interested in any of that.”

Emma shrugged, pushing off the desk and heading for the door. “Maybe. Maybe not. But are you interested?”

You opened your mouth to respond before shaking your head. “Okay. I’m going to forget this part of our conversation and continue to try and look for a plumber or handyman.”

Emma laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Fine, fine. But if you need help with Logan or plumbing, you know where to find me.”

She left the room at the same time Laura walked in. She walked over to the front of your desk and stared at you with those eyes of hers. “You need help?” Laura finally asked.

You shook your head, “no. Just need a plumber. The sink in my kitchen is leakin’.”

Laura tilted her head slightly, considering something. “Why don’t you ask daddy?”

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Because your dad’s busy, and it’s not his problem to deal with. I’ll figure it out.”

“He fixed the dishwasher last week,” she pointed out quietly, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “And the dryer.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to bother him with stuff like this,” you countered, trying to ignore how her face lit up every time she mentioned something Logan had done for you. “I’m sure he’s got enough on his plate.”

Laura didn’t respond right away. Instead, she leaned against your desk, her small fingers tapping lightly on the wood. “He likes helping,” she murmured, almost like she was testing the waters.

You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, but quickly glanced away, pretending to focus on the bulletin board behind you. “He’s good at fixing things.”

You watched her for a moment, your irritation from earlier starting to melt away. It was hard to stay frustrated when she was being so earnest. “Okay, okay, I get it. But your dad doesn’t need to be the town’s go-to handyman.”

Laura glanced up at you through her lashes. “Just tell him. Please?”

There was something almost… hopeful in her gaze, and you felt a twinge of guilt. Laura wasn’t the type to ask for much. If this meant that much to her…

“Fine,” you sighed, holding up your hands in surrender. “I’ll ask him. But only because you asked nicely.”

Laura’s lips twitched in the faintest smile, a look of victory crossing her face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but you’re not off the hook yet,” you teased gently. “You still owe me an essay on Newton’s laws of motion, remember?”

She scrunched up her nose, making a face. “I know. I’ll finish it.”

“Good,” you nodded, giving her a playful wink. “And don’t go trying to bribe me with homework just to get me to talk to your dad, okay?”

Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “I would never.”

“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically. “Alright, head back to class. Lunch is almost over.”

She gave a small nod, then glanced back at you before leaving. “He really likes you, you know.”

Your heart stuttered, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Laura—”

“Just saying,” she added quickly before ducking out the door and heading down the hallway.

You stared at the empty doorway, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. Liking you? What did that even mean coming from an eleven-year-old?

You shook your head, trying to push the thought away. Logan was… well, Logan. Gruff, quiet, and often impossible to read. And sure, he’d been more present lately, but that didn’t mean anything. He was just being a good neighbor.

You glanced at the time on your phone, groaning softly. Lunch was almost over, and you hadn’t even finished setting up for the afternoon class.

“Guess I’ll ask him about the sink,” you muttered under your breath, more to convince yourself than anything.

Because if Laura was already noticing things, how long would it be before the whole town started talking?

---

That evening, after school had ended and you’d finally managed to get through the rest of your lesson plans, you found yourself standing in front of Logan’s place. It was only a short walk down the street, and yet, your feet felt heavier with each step.

You could hear the faint sound of a TV through the open window and the soft murmur of voices—Laura and Logan, probably talking about her day. It was… nice. Domestic. Something that made your chest tighten with an inexplicable emotion.

“Just ask about the sink and go,” you whispered to yourself, giving a firm nod. “No big deal.”

You knocked lightly, and a few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Logan. He was in his usual attire—flannel shirt, jeans—and he looked at you with that same unreadable expression.

“Hey,” you said, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze. “I, uh, wanted to ask for a favor.”

His brow furrowed slightly, and he stepped back, gesturing for you to come inside. “What’s goin’ on?”

You hesitated, then took a deep breath. “My kitchen sink started leaking, and… well, I tried fixing it, but I think I made it worse. Laura said you’re good at this kind of stuff, so I thought… maybe…”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You want me to take a look at it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “If you’re not too busy. I don’t want to—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, already grabbing a toolbox from a nearby shelf. “Let’s go.”

You blinked. “Wait, you don’t want to, like, finish dinner or something first?”

He shot you a look that was almost amused. “I’m not gonna let your kitchen flood because of a sink. C’mon.”

You let out a small laugh, relieved by his reaction. “Okay, fair point. Thanks, Logan.”

“No problem,” he grunted, stepping out onto the porch. “Lead the way.”

As you walked back to your place, you stole a glance at him. Logan might have been gruff and intimidating to most people, but you’d come to learn there was more to him than that.

When you reached your house, Logan set to work immediately, inspecting the pipes under the sink. You leaned against the counter, watching as he tinkered and adjusted, his movements methodical and precise.

“You didn’t have to come over right away,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “I know you’ve got a lot going on.”

He didn’t look up, just shrugged. “It’s fine. Better to fix it now than let it get worse.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you murmured. “But still… thanks.”

Logan glanced at you then, his eyes lingering for a moment longer than usual. “You don’t gotta thank me every time I do somethin’ for you, Y/N.”

“I know,” you replied, offering a small smile. “But I want to.”

He gave a low grunt, something between acknowledgment and dismissal, and returned his focus to the pipes. You stayed silent, watching him work, trying to make yourself useful by occasionally handing him a tool or holding a flashlight.

“You’ve done this before, huh?” you asked, breaking the silence again.

Logan didn’t look up, but you saw the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Couple times.”

“Fixing sinks?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Or just everything?”

“Everything,” he muttered. “You learn to handle stuff when no one else can.”

There was an unspoken weight behind his words, something you didn’t pry into. You knew Logan had been through more than he let on—there were pieces of his life you still hadn’t put together, and you weren’t sure you ever would. But that didn’t stop you from being curious.

Instead, you chose to keep the conversation light. “Well, I appreciate it. I probably would’ve made a bigger mess if I’d kept trying.”

He grunted again, this time almost in agreement, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Okay, I walked into that one,” you admitted. “But seriously, thank you. Laura was right—you are good at this.”

Logan tightened the last pipe and stood, wiping his hands on a rag. “She talks too much sometimes.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “She’s just proud of you.”

He didn’t respond, his eyes darkening for a brief moment before he shifted the subject. “It’s done. Shouldn’t leak anymore, but if it does, just call me.”

You nodded, feeling that strange tightening in your chest again. “Got it. Thanks again.”

Logan grabbed his toolbox and started for the door, but something in the air between you both felt unfinished, like there was something unspoken hanging there. Before you could second-guess yourself, you called out.

“Logan?”

He paused, his back to you.

“I meant what I said earlier,” you continued, a little more quietly this time. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, and I don’t want to add to it. But I appreciate you helping me.”

Logan turned, his gaze locking onto yours. There was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place. For a second, you thought he might say something, but then he just gave a slow nod.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N,” he finally said. “If you need somethin’, I’ll be around.”

He turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing in your kitchen, staring after him. You exhaled, feeling a mix of confusion and warmth.

Later that evening, as you cleaned up and prepared for the next day’s lessons, you couldn’t stop replaying the interaction in your head. Logan’s quietness, his willingness to help, Laura’s knowing smiles. There was something stirring there, something more than just neighborly concern.

But you pushed the thoughts aside, reminding yourself of the practicalities. Logan was a single dad with a complicated past, and you… well, you had your own life to focus on. This wasn’t the time to start overthinking things.

Still, as you drifted off to sleep that night, the image of Logan fixing your sink—focused, calm, and oddly comforting—stayed with you.

---

You’ve never liked storms. You’re not sure why, you grew up in Houston where it rained consistently and encountered a few hurricanes.

But when you turned 18, you went to college further north in Texas, getting away from the rain and finally getting sunshine and real heat, not humid heat.

It never rained much in the north of Minnesota, but when it did rain, it rained a lot. So much so that the school cancelled classes for the rest of the week.

You could use the time to catch up on grading assignments, but instead you found yourself barely able to keep your attention on the TV, flinching every time you heard thunder.

The storm outside raged on, lightning flashing every few seconds, followed by the rumble of thunder that rattled the windows. You glanced at the stack of papers you’d set aside to grade, but your mind just wasn’t in it.

“Why does it always feel worse at night?” you muttered, sinking deeper into the couch, trying to focus on the TV.

Then, a knock at the door startled you. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially with the weather this bad.

You got up, hesitating for a second before opening the door to reveal Laura, soaked from head to toe, holding a small flashlight.

“Laura? What are you doing out here?” you asked, eyes wide with concern.

“Our power went out,” she explained quickly, shivering slightly. “Daddy said I could come over here since your lights are still on.”

You frowned, glancing past her toward Logan’s house, which was barely visible in the heavy rain. “Is your dad coming over too?”

Laura shrugged, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “He said he’d figure it out.”

You closed the door behind her, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and handing it to her. “You should’ve just called, you know. I would’ve come to get you.”

Laura gave you a small smile as she dried off. “It’s fine. I didn’t want to wait.”

You shook your head, unable to suppress a smile at her stubbornness. “Of course you didn’t.”

The two of you sat in the living room for a while, Laura settling into the corner of the couch with her legs tucked under her, still glancing out the window at the storm every so often.

“How long’s the power been out?” you asked after a few minutes.

“Since just after dinner,” she replied. “Daddy was gonna try and fix it, but he said it might take a while.”

You nodded, already feeling a little guilty. If the power didn’t come back on soon, you’d probably end up with both of them staying over. Not that you minded, but it was one of those situations where you didn’t want to impose. Especially with Logan.

Almost on cue, there was another knock at the door, this one heavier, more deliberate.

You didn’t even have to look to know it was Logan.

You opened the door to find him standing there, drenched like Laura had been. His hair was plastered to his head, and his usual gruff expression was softened slightly by the rain dripping from his face.

“Come on in,” you said quickly, stepping aside.

Logan entered, shaking off some of the rain before giving you a nod. “Thanks. Power’s out, and I don’t think it’s comin’ back anytime soon.”

You closed the door behind him and offered him a towel, which he accepted without a word. He glanced over at Laura, who had made herself comfortable on the couch, and then back at you.

“You alright with us bein’ here?” he asked, his voice low but genuine.

“Of course,” you replied, waving it off. “I’m not gonna let you sit in the dark with no heat.”

Logan nodded, though there was something in his eyes—something like gratitude, though he didn’t voice it.

The three of you sat in the living room for a while, the storm still raging outside. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable silence, but it wasn’t awkward either. Just... quiet. Logan wasn’t one for small talk, and Laura seemed content just to be around people, her gaze flicking back and forth between you and her dad.

As the night wore on, the storm didn’t let up, and Laura’s eyelids started to droop. You glanced at the clock, noting how late it was getting.

“You’re welcome to stay the night,” you offered, glancing between them. “It’s still coming down pretty hard out there, and I don’t think the power’s coming back on soon.”

Laura perked up at the suggestion, but Logan hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “We’ll be fine,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t wanna impose.”

“You’re not imposing,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “There’s a guest bedroom, and I’ve got blankets. Besides, I’m not letting either of you walk back in this mess.”

Laura, sensing her opportunity, chimed in before Logan could object. “I want to stay,” she said quietly, her eyes big and hopeful.

Logan sighed, glancing at his daughter, clearly torn. “Laura…”

“Daddy, it’s still storming,” she added, her voice soft but insistent. “We can stay, right?”

You jumped in before he could refuse. “It’s no trouble, Logan. Really. Laura can take the guest bedroom, and I can sleep on the couch.”

Logan gave you a skeptical look. “You’re not sleepin’ on the couch in your own house.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s your bed,” he grunted. “I’ll take the couch.”

Before you could argue, Laura piped up again, her voice full of innocent mischief. “You could both sleep in the bed.”

Your eyes widened, and you quickly glanced at Logan, whose expression had shifted to one of slight surprise.

“Laura,” you started, but she just shrugged, clearly enjoying this more than she should have been.

“What?” she said innocently. “It’s a big bed.”

Logan sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re not helpin’, kid.”

Laura just grinned, her eyes gleaming with quiet victory. “I think I am.”

You cleared your throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “I’m fine with sleepin’ on the couch, really. Can’t really sleep when it’s stormin’ anyways.”

Laura, still lounging on the couch, piped up again, her grin growing wider. “You could just share the bed.”

Your face flushed, and you shot her a look. “Laura—”

“What?” She shrugged, playing innocent, but you could see the hint of mischief in her eyes.

Logan sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Kid, stop messin’ around.”

She held up her hands in surrender, but the teasing smile on her face didn’t budge. “I’m just saying it’s an option.”

You shook your head, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “Laura, you’re gonna sleep in the guest room. I’ll be on the couch. End of story.”

Laura rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine.”

Logan glanced at you, his eyes softening for a brief moment before he muttered, “You sure about this? I don’t wanna take your bed.”

You waved him off, trying to sound casual. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Just get some rest. You’ve been out in the rain long enough.”

He hesitated for a second, then gave a small nod. “Alright. But only because you won’t stop arguin’.”

“Exactly,” you said, smiling a little as you grabbed an extra blanket from the hallway closet and tossed it to Laura. “You can get settled in the guest room, kiddo.”

Laura caught the blanket and headed toward the guest room with a little bounce in her step, clearly pleased with how things were turning out. You watched her disappear down the hallway before turning back to Logan, who was still standing in the living room, looking somewhat out of place.

“You can leave your wet clothes by the door if you want,” you offered, trying to keep things normal, even though the situation felt anything but.

Logan gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgment, pulling off his soaked jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. He moved slowly, like he was still debating whether to argue about the sleeping arrangements again, but thankfully, he didn’t.

After a minute, he glanced back at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You really are stubborn, you know that?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Takes one to know one.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he walked past you toward your bedroom. “Fair enough.”

Once he disappeared into the room, you let out a small sigh, running a hand through your hair. This was... not how you expected your night to go. Sharing your house with both Logan and Laura during a storm, with Laura sneakily playing matchmaker. It was almost funny, if not for the fact that Logan being this close made your heart race a little too much for comfort.

You settled back onto the couch, pulling a blanket over yourself and staring at the TV screen without really watching it. The sound of rain pounding against the windows and the occasional crack of thunder filled the quiet, but it was hard to focus on the storm when you knew Logan was in the next room.

Laura had probably planned this all along.

You glanced toward the hallway where the guest room was, wondering if she was already asleep—or if she was lying there, scheming her next move.

Thunder broke you out of your thoughts, making you flinch slightly under the blankets.

You settled deeper into the couch, but sleep wasn’t coming any easier despite the exhaustion from the day. Your mind kept wandering, mostly back to Logan and how natural it had started to feel having him and Laura around. Maybe a little too natural.

A sharp crack of thunder rattled the windows, and you flinched again, instinctively pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. You’d thought you were getting used to storms, but this one was relentless, dragging on with no signs of easing up.

Just when you started to think you’d be up all night, you heard the soft creak of the floorboards behind you. You turned, expecting to see Laura coming out of the guest room, but instead, Logan stood there in the dim light of the living room, looking as uncomfortable as you felt.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady, despite the storm.

He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. “Not used to sleepin’ anywhere but my own bed.”

You nodded, biting back a knowing smile. “Yeah, I get that. Storm’s not helping much either.”

Logan’s eyes flicked to the window, then back to you. His gaze was a little softer than usual, like the storm had taken some of the edge off his usual roughness. “You alright? Heard you jumpin’ every time the thunder hits.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush off his concern. “It’s nothing. Just... not a fan of storms.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Logan said, stepping further into the room. He hesitated for a moment, then moved to sit on the armrest of the couch, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Don’t have to tough it out, y’know.”

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the gentleness in his tone. It wasn’t like Logan to be this open, to offer any sort of comfort. He usually kept things buried under layers of gruffness and distance.

“Guess I’m just used to toughing it out,” you said softly, offering him a small smile.

Logan studied you for a moment, his eyes flicking over your face, like he was weighing his next words carefully. “You don’t always have to. Not with us.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You weren’t sure what to say. This side of Logan—the quiet, protective side—was something you’d only seen glimpses of before, but tonight, it was like the storm had brought down some of his walls.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” you finally said, but your voice lacked its usual conviction.

“Not worryin’,” Logan replied, his gaze steady. “Just statin’ a fact.”

The thunder rolled again, quieter this time, as if the storm was finally starting to let up. Logan’s eyes lingered on you for a beat longer, before he stood up, looking like he was about to head back to the bedroom.

But then he paused, glancing over his shoulder. “If you want... there’s room in the bed.”

Your breath hitched, and you blinked up at him, not sure if you heard him right. “What?”

Logan’s lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, but his expression remained serious. “I ain’t suggestin’ what Laura was earlier,” he muttered, a little embarrassed. “Just... if it helps you sleep better, I don’t mind. Couch’s not exactly comfortable.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. Logan wasn’t the type to offer comfort lightly, and the idea of sharing a bed with him—platonically or not—made your pulse quicken.

“I—” You faltered, unsure how to respond. But something in the way he was looking at you made it clear this wasn’t just about the storm or being polite. This was about something more—something that had been quietly building between the two of you for a while now.

Before you could overthink it, you nodded. “Okay.”

Logan’s eyebrows raised slightly, surprised by your answer. He stepped aside as you stood, grabbing the blanket from the couch. Neither of you said anything as you walked down the hallway to your bedroom, the tension thick but not uncomfortable—more like an understanding had settled between you.

Once inside, Logan shifted awkwardly as you took your side of the bed, pulling the blanket over yourself, trying to act like this was normal, like your heart wasn’t racing in your chest. Logan laid down on the opposite side, keeping a respectful distance, though the bed felt smaller with him in it.

The sound of the rain outside softened, though the occasional rumble of thunder still rolled in the distance. You stared at the ceiling, hyper-aware of Logan beside you, the space between you feeling charged.

“You good?” Logan asked after a minute, his voice low in the quiet.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”

A beat passed. Then another.

“Thanks,” you added, not just for offering the bed, but for being there, for not making this weird.

Logan turned his head slightly to look at you, his eyes soft in the dim light. “Ain’t nothin’.”

But it was something. It was a lot, actually.

You both lay there in silence for a while, the sound of the rain becoming almost soothing. You could feel the warmth of him next to you, solid and reassuring, and slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease.

Just as your eyes started to drift closed, Logan’s voice broke the silence again, so quiet you almost missed it.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured, his voice gruff but sincere. “You don’t have to do this on your own. Not with us around.”

Your heart swelled, a mix of emotions you weren’t quite ready to confront just yet. You didn’t know what to say, so instead, you reached out, your hand brushing against his in the small space between you.

Logan didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled gently around yours, his grip warm and steady.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you fell asleep without flinching at the sound of thunder.

---

You woke up to the sound of soft rain pattering against the window, the storm from last night finally easing up. For a second, you forgot where you were, until you felt the weight of the blanket and the warmth of another presence next to you. Logan. His steady breathing filled the quiet space, and you shifted slightly, careful not to wake him.

This was new.

You glanced over at him, his face relaxed in sleep, the tension he usually carried nowhere to be found. It was strange seeing him like this—calm, almost peaceful. You could feel the residual warmth from his hand where he’d held yours last night, and the memory made your chest tighten.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, not wanting to disturb the rare moment of quiet. You padded out into the hallway, stopping by Laura’s room to peek in. She was still asleep, wrapped up in blankets, her small body barely a lump under the covers.

You smiled to yourself, already suspecting that she had something to do with last night’s sleeping arrangements. Laura was too clever for her own good sometimes.

In the kitchen, you started brewing coffee, the scent filling the small space. As you waited for it to finish, you found yourself staring out the window, your mind still on Logan. Last night had been... unexpected. But not unwelcome. The way he’d stayed close, offering comfort without making a big deal out of it—it meant more than you wanted to admit.

The soft creak of footsteps behind you pulled you out of your thoughts.

“You’re up early,” Logan’s gravelly voice broke the quiet.

You turned to see him leaning against the doorway, his hair still a little mussed from sleep, but otherwise looking much like his usual self.

“Couldn’t sleep much after the storm,” you shrugged, offering him a small smile. “Coffee?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, moving to sit at the kitchen table. “Thanks.”

You poured two mugs, setting one in front of him before taking a seat across from him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, just sipping your coffee in the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

Logan glanced at you over the rim of his mug, his eyes softer than usual. “You sleep alright?”

You hesitated, remembering how easily you’d fallen asleep next to him. “Better than I expected, honestly.”

He grunted in acknowledgment, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Guess the storm wasn’t as bad as you thought.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck. “Or maybe it was the company.”

Logan’s smirk widened slightly, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the kitchen before settling on you again. “Thanks for lettin’ us stay. Laura didn’t give you much choice, huh?”

“She didn’t have to,” you replied with a shrug. “I wasn’t gonna let either of you stay in a freezing house with no power.”

Logan nodded, his eyes drifting to the window. “Power should be back on soon. I’ll head back once it’s up.”

You didn’t say anything, but part of you felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving so soon. You hadn’t had many moments like this—quiet, with just the two of you—and you found yourself wanting it to last a little longer.

Laura’s quiet footsteps broke the silence as she padded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Mornin’, kid,” Logan greeted her.

“Mornin’,” Laura mumbled, glancing between the two of you with a knowing look before plopping down at the table. “Is the power back on yet?”

“Not yet,” you said, trying to ignore the way she was eyeing you and Logan.

Laura just shrugged, grabbing the cereal box from the counter and helping herself. “Guess we’re stuck here a little longer, huh?”

You shot her a look, but she didn’t seem fazed, her focus on her cereal. It was hard to tell if she was playing innocent or if she was just that good at pretending.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” you asked, trying to shift the conversation.

Laura perked up at that. “You said you’d help me with my English homework, remember?”

You blinked. “I—uh, right. Yeah, I did say that.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, looking at Laura. “Since when do you need help with English?”

Laura shot him a quick look before turning back to you, all smiles. “I figured Ms. Aberra would be better at explaining it than you.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, starting to catch on. “I’m sure you’re doing fine in English, Laura.”

She shrugged, playing with her spoon. “Yeah, but it’s better when someone explains it.”

Logan just shook his head, clearly not buying it either, but he didn’t say anything, letting Laura’s little game play out.

“Well,” you said, getting up from the table. “I guess we can take a look at it after breakfast.”

Laura grinned, clearly pleased with how things were going. “Thanks, Ms. Aberra.”

You smiled back, even though you knew something was up. Sure, you had been helping her with English homework for a while now, but she didn’t need the help. When she would show you her essays or answers to questions about a reading, they were always perfect. Still, you played along, grabbing your coffee and heading toward the living room.

“Alright,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at her. “Go grab your stuff, and we’ll take a look.”

Laura jumped up, cereal forgotten, and dashed off to retrieve her things. You settled onto the couch, sipping your coffee and trying to push aside the strange feeling that this was part of something bigger. But what?

Logan followed you into the living room, sitting down in the worn armchair opposite you. He gave you a look—one eyebrow slightly raised, lips set in that half-smirk he sometimes wore when he was figuring someone out.

“She really roped you into this, huh?” he asked, voice low and rough.

You shrugged, trying to seem casual. “It’s not a big deal. I’m used to kids asking for help with schoolwork.”

“Yeah, but Laura? She doesn’t ask for help unless she’s got some kind of angle.”

You laughed softly, but the truth of his words settled somewhere in the back of your mind. Laura wasn’t just a smart kid—she was calculating. You’d seen it in class and at home. The way she observed things, the way she always seemed to know what was going on, even when no one said a word.

“I guess I’ll find out,” you said, leaning back into the couch.

Before Logan could reply, Laura returned, a small notebook and a pencil in hand. She sat beside you, flipping it open to a random page. You glanced at the page, immediately noticing that it was filled with neat, almost perfect handwriting. The essay she’d written didn’t have a single correction or revision mark.

“Alright,” you began, pretending you didn’t see the perfection in front of you. “What do you need help with?”

Laura handed the notebook over, her face perfectly serious. “I just wanted to know if the introduction’s strong enough.”

You skimmed through the first paragraph, and honestly, it was better than anything you’d expect from a sixth grader. If anything, it felt more like she was testing you than asking for actual feedback.

“It’s good,” you said slowly. “Your thesis is clear, and you have a strong opening sentence. You might want to make the transition to your first point a little smoother, but overall, it’s solid.”

Laura nodded thoughtfully, pretending to make a note in her notebook. You watched her for a moment, trying to figure out what game she was playing. There was no way she needed your help, but for some reason, she wanted you here. And Logan, too.

Logan just sat quietly, watching the two of you like he wasn’t quite sure what was happening either. His hand rested on the arm of the chair, fingers tapping lightly. You could feel his presence, steady and grounding, even when he wasn’t saying anything.

Laura glanced at her dad. “Ms. Aberra’s a pretty good teacher, don’t you think?”

Logan’s eyes flicked to you, his smirk back in full force. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

You gave Laura a suspicious look. “You’re not just buttering me up for extra credit, are you?”

Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “No. I just like the way you explain things.”

“Mhm.” You weren’t buying it, but it was hard not to laugh.

The quiet hung between you all for a moment, just the sound of the rain outside and the occasional scrape of Laura’s pencil against her notebook. It felt… peaceful, despite the nagging feeling that something was going on beneath the surface.

“Alright, well,” you finally said, pushing yourself up from the couch. “Looks like you’ve got this handled, Laura. I don’t think you need much help.”

Laura blinked up at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks anyway.”

You caught the look she sent Logan’s way, and suddenly, it clicked. She didn’t need your help with homework—she was just trying to get you to stick around a little longer. Maybe even trying to give you and Logan more time together.

Smart kid.

Logan, of course, said nothing, just watching you with that unreadable expression he wore so well. You could never quite tell what he was thinking, and it both frustrated and intrigued you.

"So," Laura said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "What’s the plan today?"

You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "You’re the one with the notebook full of perfect essays. I thought you had plans."

Laura grinned at that, not even trying to hide it anymore. "I was thinking we could all go out for lunch. Since we’re stuck here."

Logan gave her a look, but didn’t say anything, clearly seeing through her. You stifled a laugh, playing along. "Lunch, huh? You paying?"

Laura shrugged, looking way too pleased with herself. "I’ll ask nicely. Maybe you’ll cover it."

You shook your head, pretending to think it over. "Might be able to swing it."

Logan snorted. "Real generous of you."

"Hey, I’m a teacher. Gotta budget wisely," you shot back, smirking at him.

Laura just smiled, clearly happy with how things were going, and it hit you again—she was definitely playing matchmaker. Subtle, but it was there. Not that you minded. Spending more time with Logan wasn’t exactly a hardship.

Logan leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on you, though. "You’re sure you don’t mind us hanging around?"

You tilted your head, genuinely surprised. "Logan, if I minded, I wouldn’t have let you in. You’re both always welcome here."

For a second, he looked like he was going to argue, but then he just gave a slow nod, like he was accepting it—maybe even appreciating it, though he’d never say that out loud. "Thanks."

You shrugged, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal, even though you knew it kind of was. "Don’t mention it."

Laura got up, stretching her arms over her head before grabbing her empty bowl. "I’ll go get ready for lunch then," she said, already heading to the sink. "I’m starving."

You watched her go, then turned back to Logan, raising an eyebrow. "Think we’ve got time for that before the power comes back on?"

Logan shrugged, his smirk returning. "Could be out a while longer."

"Convenient," you muttered, though there was no real bite to it.

Logan chuckled, a low, rough sound that made something in your chest tighten. He set his empty mug on the coffee table and stood up, stretching slightly. "Guess we better make sure the kid doesn’t eat the place out of food while we wait."

You laughed, following him into the kitchen. The dynamic between the three of you felt easy now, comfortable in a way that surprised you. Even with Laura’s not-so-subtle attempts at matchmaking, there was something natural about how you and Logan were around each other. It wasn’t rushed or forced. Just... right.

Laura appeared from the hallway, already dressed and tugging on her jacket. "Ready when you are," she said, a little too cheerfully.

Logan gave her a look. "We haven’t even decided where we’re going."

"I’ll leave that up to the grown-ups," she said, grabbing her shoes.

You exchanged a glance with Logan, both of you clearly thinking the same thing: this kid was way too clever for her own good. But neither of you called her out on it.

"Alright," Logan finally said, grabbing his jacket. "Let’s get going before the power comes back and ruins her plan."

Laura grinned but didn’t say anything, grabbing your hand as you all headed out into the damp, cool air. The rain had finally stopped, but the sky was still overcast, a soft, gray light filtering through the clouds.

You walked beside Logan, Laura skipping a few steps ahead, her eyes darting around like she was taking everything in. She was always like that—watching, observing. And now you knew why. She was playing a long game, slowly pushing you and Logan closer together, little by little.

You couldn’t help but smile. She was good. Really good.

And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to appreciate her efforts.

---

The school did something special for parents on Valentine’s Day. Instead of just handing out donuts or cupcakes, they did a competition.

There was different challenges for each couple, or pairing, to finish, and to make it even better, their kids would have to guide them on certain challenges, like walking blindfolded to the finish line on the field.

Emma glanced over at you as you were going through the list of parent’s names, making sure everyone had a partner. There were a few single parents, so you had to figure out who they should be paired with. But there was an odd number, one parent would have to sit out.

“So… who’s sitting out?” Emma asked, leaning on the desk next to you. She had that casual curiosity in her tone, but you knew she was just as invested in making sure things ran smoothly as you were.

You chewed your lip, staring at the list. “Looks like we’ve got one extra parent. I’m not sure yet.”

Emma peeked over your shoulder, scanning the names. “What about Logan?”

You paused, looking at the list. Logan’s name was there, as was Laura’s, but you hesitated. He wasn’t exactly the type to jump into school events, especially one that involved blindfolds and teamwork. And while he’d been involved in Laura’s life, you weren’t sure he’d want to participate in something like this.

“Yeah, guess he can sit out. We have an odd number of parents anyways.” You put down the clipboard and looked at the empty donut box, “I’ll be right back. Gonna go to the other room and get another box.”

As you moved toward the door, you noticed Laura sitting quietly in the corner, fiddling with her notebook, watching everything with that usual sharpness in her eyes. She had been quiet all morning, almost too quiet. You gave her a smile before heading to the break room, still feeling a little awkward about pairing up the parents.

Emma stayed behind, her eyes flicking between you and Laura, a slight smirk tugging at her lips like she was onto something.

You weaved through the hallway, your mind still on the whole situation. These parent events were always a little tricky when it came to single parents. You knew Logan wasn’t exactly the type to jump into the school scene, especially for something like a Valentine’s Day competition, but you couldn’t help but think maybe he’d want to give it a shot for Laura.

Grabbing the donut box, you paused for a second. The idea of Logan being there today, paired up with someone else, didn’t sit right. Not that you had any reason to feel that way. It was just... Logan. You weren’t even sure if he’d show up.

When you returned to the room, Laura was still sitting there, now scribbling something in her notebook. She glanced up as you entered, her expression neutral but her eyes watching you closely.

“Everything okay?” you asked, setting the fresh box on the table and moving to grab the clipboard again.

Laura nodded. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“Thinking about the competition?” You smiled, trying to make conversation, but she just gave you a vague shrug.

“Something like that.”

Emma glanced at you, her smirk still there as she made a little noise of amusement. “Logan didn’t strike me as the ‘competition’ type. But who knows?”

You shot her a look, but before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan walked in. Speak of the devil. He looked around, taking in the sight of parents getting ready, kids buzzing with excitement. His eyes landed on you, and he gave a short nod, his usual gruff greeting.

“You’re here,” you said, surprised, trying to keep your voice casual. “Didn’t think you’d make it.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his hands in his pockets. “Laura signed us up. Thought I’d better show.”

Laura, sitting nearby, perked up but kept her face mostly neutral. She wasn’t about to blow her cover, not yet anyway.

“Right,” you said, glancing down at the clipboard. “Well, there’s an odd number of parents, so... I was thinking maybe you’d sit out.”

Laura, quick as ever, jumped in. “Or you could partner with someone else.”

You blinked at her, caught off guard. “Well, yeah, I guess, but we don’t really have—”

“You could partner with Daddy.” Laura said it so simply, like it wasn’t a big deal, like she hadn’t been plotting this for weeks.

Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced between the two of you, clearly realizing what his daughter was doing, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, waiting for your reaction.

You stammered a bit, caught completely off guard. “I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea...”

Laura gave you a look, one that said she knew exactly what she was doing. “It’s just for the competition. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

Logan’s gaze flicked to you again, and this time, there was a slight smirk on his face. “It’s just a game, right? We’ll survive.”

Emma, watching the whole thing play out, was trying very hard not to laugh. “Looks like you’re stuck with Logan, Y/N.”

You felt a wave of heat rise in your cheeks. It was one thing to think about spending time with Logan, but being thrown into a school competition with him—especially with Laura being the mastermind behind it—was another.

“Okay, fine,” you muttered, trying to act like this wasn’t a big deal at all. “I guess we’ll partner up.”

Logan just gave a nonchalant shrug. “Let’s get this over with.”

Laura’s eyes practically sparkled with victory as she hopped up from her seat, already heading toward the field where the first challenge would take place. You followed, trying to shake off the awkwardness, but it was impossible with Logan right next to you.

As you reached the field, the first task was announced: a three-legged race. Of course. Out of all the challenges, it had to be this one. You glanced over at Logan, who was already eyeing the ropes being handed out for the pairs to tie their legs together.

"This should be interesting," Logan muttered under his breath, taking one of the ropes and holding it out for you.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your nerves behind a smile. "I feel like this is a recipe for disaster."

Logan’s lips quirked into a smirk. "Only if you don’t keep up."

"Me?" You chuckled, shaking your head as you bent down to tie the rope around your ankle and his. "You’re the one with the bum leg."

Logan grunted, not arguing, though his usual swagger was still intact. "I’ll manage."

Laura stood off to the side, watching with a faint smile, clearly enjoying the show. You could tell she was pleased with herself, and part of you was too, even if you were trying to act like this was no big deal.

"Alright, ready?" Logan asked, standing up straighter after securing the rope.

"As I’ll ever be," you replied, trying to gauge the best way to navigate the race without falling flat on your face.

The whistle blew, and before you knew it, you were awkwardly hopping forward, one leg bound to Logan’s as you tried to find some sort of rhythm. The first few steps were disastrous—Logan’s longer strides making it nearly impossible for you to keep pace without stumbling.

"Slow down!" you laughed, grabbing his arm to steady yourself as you nearly tripped.

Logan smirked, his hand quickly coming to your waist to keep you from toppling over. "You gotta move faster than that, Y/N."

"Or maybe you need to move slower!" you shot back, trying to adjust your steps to match his. After a few shaky moments, you finally found a rhythm, the two of you moving in sync—well, mostly. Logan’s hand lingered at your waist, steadying you as you both half-hopped, half-laughed your way toward the finish line.

"Not bad," Logan grunted as you crossed the line, not quite first, but definitely not last either.

"Not bad?" You shot him a look, still a little breathless from laughing. "I’m pretty sure we almost face-planted three times."

"Could’ve been worse," he replied with a shrug, that smirk of his still in place.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart was still racing—though you weren’t sure if it was from the race or from the fact that Logan had kept his arm around your waist longer than necessary.

Laura, waiting at the sidelines, gave you both a knowing look as you untied the rope. "You guys were pretty good," she commented casually, though the glint in her eyes said otherwise.

"Pretty good?" you echoed, shooting her a playful glare. "We almost ate dirt, Laura."

Logan grunted in agreement but didn’t say much, just shaking his head as he rubbed his leg a bit. You noticed the slight grimace that flashed across his face—something you hadn’t seen often, but it was there for just a moment before he covered it up.

"Next challenge is... egg balancing," Emma announced from the other end of the field, holding up a spoon and a carton of eggs.

You and Logan exchanged a look, and you couldn’t help but laugh. "Oh, this’ll be fun."

Logan just sighed, clearly less than thrilled about the prospect of trying to balance an egg on a spoon, but he didn’t protest. You handed him one of the spoons as you lined up for the next round.

"You got a steady hand?" you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

Logan glanced at the spoon, then back at you. "Steadier than yours, probably."

"Let’s see about that," you shot back, placing the egg carefully on your spoon. The whistle blew, and you both started across the field, trying to keep the fragile eggs from toppling off. You had to admit, Logan had a surprising amount of focus for a guy who usually looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

"Not bad for an old man," you joked, glancing over at him as you both carefully moved toward the finish line.

"Careful, Y/N. That’s how you get egg on your face," Logan muttered, but you could hear the amusement in his voice.

Just as you were nearing the end, Laura darted over, watching closely. "Come on, you guys can do it!"

It was hard to ignore the pride in her voice—she was definitely enjoying watching you two work together. And maybe, despite the ridiculousness of it all, you were too.

By the time you finished, both of your eggs still intact, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. It was silly, sure, but being paired with Logan for these goofy challenges wasn’t as awkward as you thought it might be. In fact, it was... kind of nice.

"Two for two," Logan said with a smirk, handing his spoon back as the event wrapped up.

"Don’t get too cocky," you replied, bumping his arm lightly as you handed yours in too. "We’ll see how you do with the next one."

Laura appeared beside you again, her eyes bright. "You guys make a good team."

You gave her a sideways glance, trying not to read too much into her words. "Yeah, well, it’s all about teamwork, right?"

Logan didn’t say anything, but his eyes met yours for a brief moment, and there was something there—something unspoken that made your heart skip a beat.

The rest of the day went by in a blur of silly games and laughter, and by the time the event was over, you were exhausted, but in the best way possible. Logan had stayed the whole time, never complaining or trying to bow out early. Laura, of course, was thrilled with how things had turned out, and you couldn’t help but feel like she had succeeded in whatever plan she had been cooking up.

As the parents and kids started to trickle out of the school, you found yourself standing beside Logan near the door. Laura had already run ahead to grab her things, leaving the two of you alone for a moment.

"Thanks for sticking around," you said, glancing up at him. "I know this probably wasn’t your idea of a fun day."

Logan shrugged, his usual nonchalant expression in place. "Wasn’t so bad."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I’m glad you came. Laura seemed to really enjoy it."

"Yeah," Logan agreed, his gaze softening slightly as he looked in the direction where Laura had run off. "She’s a good kid."

"She is," you said, nodding. "And she’s lucky to have you."

Logan didn’t respond right away, but after a moment, he gave a small nod. "Thanks."

There was a brief silence between you, the air charged with something unspoken but palpable. Before you could say anything else, Laura came bounding back, her backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Ready to go?" she asked, looking between the two of you with that same knowing glint in her eyes.

"Yeah," Logan said, ruffling her hair lightly. "Let’s get outta here."

As they started to head for the door, Logan paused, glancing back at you. "See you around, Y/N."

"Yeah," you replied, feeling your heart skip again. "See you around, Logan."

---

It had been a few days since the Valentine’s Day event, and things had settled back into routine. You were sitting in your living room, halfway through grading papers, when there was a knock on your door.

Opening it, you found Logan standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking slightly out of place.

"Hey," he greeted, voice low. "Laura wanted me to ask if you'd join us for dinner tonight. Nothing fancy. Just... thought it’d be nice."

You blinked, surprised by the invitation. Logan wasn’t exactly the type to invite people over casually, but something about the way he stood there, slightly awkward, made your heart skip a beat.

"Sure," you said, smiling. "I’d like that."

Dinner at Logan’s place was unexpectedly warm. Laura set the table with care, and you found yourself laughing more than you expected as Logan recounted some old stories about his past. The tension that usually simmered between you felt different tonight—softer, like you were slowly crossing an invisible line you’d both been careful to avoid.

As you helped clear the dishes, your hand brushed against Logan’s, and the brief contact made you pause. He glanced at you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a quiet acknowledgment of something building between you.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice low, his gaze lingering just a little too long.

“Anytime,” you replied softly, feeling the weight of his eyes on you as you turned to put the plates away. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, but it was hard with Logan standing so close. It was like every time you were around him, you felt like something unspoken hovered between you—something that Laura, in her quiet, clever way, seemed determined to help along.

Laura wandered back into the room, a book in her hands. “Y/N, can you help me with my English homework?” she asked, holding it up and glancing between you and Logan like she hadn’t just interrupted a moment.

You blinked, turning to her with a small smile. “Of course, I can take a look.”

“Great!” Laura said, her voice a little too cheerful. She plopped down on the couch and spread her notebook and book out in front of her. “It’s this essay I’ve got to write.”

Logan lingered by the kitchen counter, his eyes flicking to Laura’s book with an expression you couldn’t quite read. “I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he muttered, and before you could say anything, he was stepping outside, probably to get some fresh air or give you and Laura some space.

You turned your attention back to Laura, still smiling but a bit confused. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got here.”

Laura launched into an explanation, talking about a character analysis she needed to do for class. As you glanced over her notes, though, it struck you that everything was pretty much perfect. Her sentences were clear, her argument made sense, and she’d clearly put a lot of thought into it. Like always, it was perfect.

“Laura… this is really good,” you said slowly, giving her an impressed look. “I don’t think you need help with this.”

Laura’s face stayed impassive, but you caught a faint hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Just wanted to make sure it was okay,” she said casually, glancing in the direction Logan had gone.

Something clicked then, and you had to suppress a chuckle. So this was just another one of Laura’s little schemes to get you to stick around. You were starting to see the pattern—tiny excuses to keep you close, to get you and Logan in the same room more often. It was subtle, but now that you were catching on, it was impossible to miss.

“Well, your essay’s great,” you said, folding your arms as you gave her a knowing look. “But I think there’s more going on here than just English homework.”

Laura’s gaze stayed steady on yours, and for a moment, you could see a glimpse of something deeper in those eyes—something far beyond her years. “He’s lonely,” she said quietly, so softly that you almost missed it.

Your heart gave a small squeeze at that. It was true that Logan always seemed like a man on the outskirts of everything, never quite fitting in. And you knew he and Laura had been through a lot together, more than most people could imagine. But he wasn’t exactly the type to talk about his feelings—or admit he might need someone else in his life.

“Maybe,” you replied gently, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “But that’s something he has to figure out on his own, okay?”

Laura nodded slowly, but she didn’t look entirely convinced. “He likes you,” she said, blunt as ever. “And you like him.”

Your cheeks heated, and you glanced away, trying to keep your voice steady. It wasn’t the first time Laura has said something like this. “It’s not that simple, Laura.”

“Why not?” she asked, her brow furrowing like she genuinely didn’t understand.

You struggled to find the right words. How could you explain that things with Logan were complicated—that you weren’t sure where you stood with him, or if there was even a place for you in his life beyond being Laura’s teacher? And yet, every time you were near him, there was this pull, this quiet magnetism that made you wonder.

“I just… don’t want to mess things up,” you admitted finally, feeling a little silly for having this conversation with an eleven-year-old.

Laura’s gaze softened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “You won’t.”

Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan stepped back inside, his gaze immediately going to the two of you. “Everything okay?” he asked, his tone gruff but laced with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Yeah, we’re good,” you said quickly, trying to push down the strange mix of emotions Laura’s words had stirred up. You stood up, smoothing down your shirt as you gave him a smile. “I should probably get going, though. It’s getting late.”

Logan nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that almost looked like disappointment. “I’ll walk you out.”

He led you to the door, and you hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Laura. She gave you a small, encouraging smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thanks again for coming,” Logan said as he opened the door, his voice a little softer than usual.

“Anytime,” you replied, echoing your earlier words as you stepped outside. The cool night air hit you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the weight of Logan’s gaze on you.

There was a long pause, the kind that felt like something should be said, but neither of you knew what. You shifted on your feet, biting your lip as you glanced up at him.

“Logan, I—”

“Y/N, I—”

You both spoke at the same time, then paused, sharing a startled laugh.

“You first,” Logan muttered, his lips twitching into a faint smile.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just… I wanted to say that I really enjoyed tonight. And I know Laura’s been… well, playing matchmaker or something,” you added with a chuckle, “but I just want you to know that I’m not—”

“Using her as an excuse to get close?” Logan finished for you, his voice dry but not unkind.

You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. “Yeah.”

Logan stood there, his eyes steady on yours, and for a moment, you both let the silence fill the space between you. He shifted his weight, his usual stoic expression softening just a bit, and for the first time, it felt like he was truly considering what to say next.

"Look, I know Laura's been trying to push things," he said, his voice low and gruff, but gentler than usual. "She's... smart, too smart sometimes. But this—tonight—it wasn’t just about her."

You blinked, surprised by his admission. You weren’t used to Logan being so open, especially about anything personal. He seemed to read the surprise in your face and let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck like this was harder for him than any physical fight he’d been in.

"What I mean is," he continued, glancing at the ground before his eyes flicked back up to yours, "it’s not just her, Y/N. I didn’t mind tonight. And that’s not something I say often."

Your breath hitched a little at his words, heart beating a little faster. There was a vulnerability in Logan that you weren’t expecting—a side of him that he clearly didn’t let out much, if at all.

"I didn’t mind it either," you said softly, trying to match his tone, to let him know you weren’t taking this lightly. "And Laura... well, she’s got a way of seeing things."

Logan let out a quiet chuckle, a rare sound that caught you off guard. "Yeah, she does. Sometimes I think she’s too smart for her own good." His eyes softened as he spoke about her, a fondness there that made you smile.

"She just wants you to be happy," you said gently. "And, I guess, maybe me too."

Logan looked at you for a long moment, something unspoken passing between you, and for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was something more here than just a shared concern for Laura. You had always admired Logan’s strength, his quiet loyalty, the way he looked after Laura with such fierce protectiveness. But standing there now, with the night air cool against your skin and Logan’s presence so close, it felt different. More personal.

"You know," Logan said after a long pause, his voice low again, "I don’t exactly have a lot of people in my life. Never been good at that sort of thing. But... you’re good with Laura. And you’re—" He stopped, his jaw tightening for a second like he wasn’t sure if he should say the next part. "You’re good for us."

Your heart thudded in your chest, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you could feel the weight of what he wasn’t saying—the layers beneath that simple statement. You’re good for us. It wasn’t just about being Laura’s teacher anymore. It was about something more.

Your heart thudded in your chest, but you forced a smile to keep things light. “Good for you?” you repeated with a slight chuckle. There was an ache there, something that hinted at how much more those words meant coming from Logan—someone who didn’t let people in easily. The way he looked at you, steady and deliberate, made it hard to brush aside. His eyes held yours a little longer than usual, almost daring you to look away.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice a low rumble, and you couldn’t help but notice how the weight of the night seemed to gather between you, thick in the air. Logan’s usual guarded stance had softened, just enough for you to sense it. He stepped a bit closer, enough that you could feel the faint warmth of him, the earthy scent of cigars and the wild outdoors clinging to his skin.

You shifted on your feet, trying to figure out where this was heading, but the flutter in your chest only grew stronger. Something unspoken seemed to pass between you two, like a current beneath the surface, waiting for one of you to reach down and touch it.

“I think Laura’s got something figured out,” you admitted, voice soft as you kept your eyes on him. “She’s smart enough to see what’s happening here.”

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, barely-there smile. “Yeah, too smart sometimes.” His gaze fell to the ground for a moment, and when he looked back up at you, there was something different there—something raw. “But she’s right. You’re good for us. Hell, you’re good for me.” His words carried a weight, a kind of honesty that took you by surprise, even though deep down, you’d been hoping to hear them for a while.

You swallowed, trying to keep your composure, but your pulse quickened. “Logan, I…” You started to say something—anything—to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat. He was so close now, you could feel the heat radiating off him, and there was a wildness in his eyes that drew you in.

And then, as if some invisible line snapped, Logan took another step toward you, his rough hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His thumb grazed your skin, the touch light but electrifying. “I don’t say things like this often,” he muttered, his voice husky, the growl in it more pronounced now, “but I want you to stay close. For Laura, yeah, but... for me too.”

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, your body reacting to the closeness of him, the way his hand lingered on your cheek. It wasn’t just the softness in his eyes or the tenderness of his touch, but the way he was looking at you, like he was seeing more than just the surface.

“I’ve wanted to stay close,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper, as your hand gently touched his chest. His heartbeat was strong, steady, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, like the pull between you was more than just chemistry.

Logan’s gaze dropped to your lips, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the cool night air, the sound of distant traffic, even the faint light from inside the house. All that mattered was the closeness, the way you could feel his breath mingling with yours.

Before you knew it, Logan was leaning in, and you closed the gap without thinking. His lips pressed against yours, rough and warm, and everything else just melted away. The kiss was slow at first, almost tentative, but then it deepened, and the heat between you flared like wildfire.

His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer against him, and you could feel the solid strength of his body as you pressed into him. The kiss was everything you hadn’t let yourself think about for so long—filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface, waiting to spill over.

Logan kissed like he lived—intensely, without holding back. His grip on your waist tightened as if he was afraid to let go, and you responded in kind, threading your fingers into the rough texture of his hair. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing; just the two of you, connected in this raw, unexpected moment.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, you both stood there for a moment, neither of you saying anything. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and Logan’s forehead rested against yours, his breath still ragged.

“I—” you started to speak, but he cut you off, his voice low and hoarse.

“Don’t,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t ruin it with words, not yet.”

You nodded, biting back whatever thought was trying to escape. The night air felt cooler now, the warmth of Logan’s body contrasting sharply against it, grounding you in the moment. His hand lingered on your waist, thumb brushing your side, and you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers, like even he was surprised by what just happened.

After a long silence, he finally spoke, voice quieter than before. “Didn’t think this’d happen,” he admitted, almost to himself.

You gave a soft laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “Me either.”

His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, and he shifted slightly, his hand moving from your waist to gently brush your cheek. The gesture was so uncharacteristically tender for him that it made your heart twist a little.

For a moment, you both just stood there, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you. Part of you wanted to step back, to put some distance between you and Logan, to give yourself a chance to think. But another part—the stronger part—wanted to stay right where you were, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, the rough edge of his thumb grazing your cheek.

Meanwhile, Laura peeked through the blinds, a smile spreading across her face.

tags: @freythecrazyfae

[nicksolemnlyswears]

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

(HAELENA’S TURN)

STAY WITH US

pairing: helaena targaryen x targaryen! reader, aegon targaryen x targaryen! reader

word count: ~3k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of murder and death of a child, light cursing, angsty helaena, one single mention of sex. dont @ me if you find a haelena instead of a helaena. targaryen names are much too complicated for my brain

a/n: thank you guys for all the love on aegon's oneshot. i was bouncing on the walls when i saw how much love it received and that some people agree with me in terms of alicent being a shit mom. that being said you dont really have to read the first part to read this. it works as a stand alone although it is a continuation.

although the inspiration to write these oneshots was the death of a child i love how soft and comforting they've come out. it's about sympathizing and giving these characters the love they deserve.

helaena deserves so much love even more than aegon. she's an innocent in all of this trapped in the midst of war. hell even rhaenyra agrees and scolded daemon for his misdoings.

im thinking of writing one last part where it is all three of them together: reader, aegon and helaena. i'm leaning towards smut but i never know what my brain will come up with. if you’d rather have some more domestic fluffy stuff let me know and that can be arranged!

enjoy!

Your fingers close around your skirts as you fly up the stairs to Helaena's bed chambers. One of her maids leads the way. The young girl sought you out as you readied for bed, rambling about how Queen Helaena was in distress. Without further question, you slipped on your robe and followed her.

The Queen has not been well since the night her child was brutally taken from her. She continues to live day by day in constant suffering as her mind has a difficult time coming to terms with that night's events.

As it happens, saying Helaena is 'not well' is an understatement.

She might've been 'not well' after the fact, but the funeral proceedings broke the last thread of sense she was holding onto. If anyone is to blame, it is the Dowager Queen who forced her to attend and Otto Hightower who was the 'mastermind' behind it all.

It was torture to hear the people of Kings Landing shouting for her, screaming vile words about Rhaenyra, and offering condolences about a subject they barely knew a thing about.

Most had never seen the young Prince; his cold body and the gold thread around his neck were their first glimpses of him. They gasped and awed at her child as if he were a spectacle while she had no choice but to sit and watch with composure.

It is only natural she would fall apart under the pressure of such ill-conceived plans. Her overthinking mind couldn't handle it any longer when the carriage got stuck. Her thoughts coming up with the most of wicked scenarios. She had to run.

Then, there is Jaehaera, who continues to ask for her twin brother. The poor girl has never spent a day apart from him since they were conceived. It is difficult for Helaena to hear Jaehaera constantly ask where he is and when he will return. It's a never ending reminder of her loss.

Besides, how is she to explain death to a child when Helaena herself has not accepted it.

The newly assigned guard sworn to protect the Queen opens the door for you as soon as you round the corner. His anticipation worries you to no end, and you fear what lies past those doors.

Maids surround Helaena, attempting to comfort her. She screams at them to let her be, but they persist. The maids mean well. Helaena is clearly distressed, yet they don't seem to realize it's because of their overbearing presence.

The young Queen swats them away. Her fingers thread through her messy hair as she seeks an escape, and sobs rake through her slender body until she collapses on her knees. Her lips move in unreadable murmurs in between each yell.

Helaena barely appears like herself. Dark purple circles line her under eyes, and her hair is unbrushed and knotted. Her signature plump cheeks have hollowed out, indicating that she has lost weight.

"Please," Helaena cries to no one in particular, recoiling from their touch.

You barrel through the maids and kneel on the floor at an arms length from Helaena. "'Laena?" you softly call to get her to look at you, knowing that if you even attempt to touch her, she will shy away.

At the recognition of your voice, Helaena's face whips up. She falls into your arms, hiding from the other females in the room. The tears that stain her face wet your robe as you hold her close. She tucks her face into your neck, hiccuping from emotion.

"Leave us," you command with a stern gaze that borders on anger.

The maids move to leave the room, but only after notifying you that the Queen has barely eaten or bathed in days. Once the door closes shut, you coax Helaena from your arms.

"What is wrong, 'Laena?" You ask softly, cradling her face to brush away her tears. The sight of her red and blotchy face breaks your heart. She must've been like this for a long time.

"It is my fault," she hiccups as new tears follow the path of the others. Helaena hangs her head in despair. She should've fought harder to keep her son alive. There must've been something else she could've done.

"Look at me," you say sternly, forcing her to look at you. It is when her eyes meet yours that you continue, "This is not your fault."

"I was the one to point my finger," she argues while her fists clench and unclench around the fabric of her dress when a new wave of emotion takes over.

Helaena is an overly emotional person. She feels things deep in her chest. She wishes she could control it, but the more she holds it in, the nastier it gets when it gets out of her control. Her body freezes and pleads for her to run and hide.

"Helaena, this was going to happen whether you pointed your finger or not. If you hadn't done what you did, you and Jaehaera would be dead as well."

It's blunt and a bit cruel, but Helaena must understand that she had no other choice. The only way this could've been stopped was if she had been assigned a sworn protector, but the council underestimated their enemy and Ser Criston Cole was too busy getting his cock wet to do anything about it.

"I told them to spare him and kill me instead," Helaena confesses with a weep.

She lets herself go on your shoulder as you wrap your arms around her shaking shoulders. You kiss the top of her head to console her guilty conscience. Helaena did not deserve to be a victim of Daemon's terrible idea. She might just be the most innocent of Targaryens.

"I know, Helaena, you were so brave. You're a wonderful mother. This is not your fault, and nobody blames you. You did what you had to do. Jaehaera is alive and well because of you."

It's hard for Helaena to stop thinking in such a way once she starts. The thoughts cause her to imagine things that aren't really there and doubt her reality. She feels like the staff's glances are not of worry but of resentment for letting those men kill her boy. Aegon's absence makes it all the worse.

"Aegon will not look at me, much less speak to me," she whimpers, wrapping her arms around your waist.

A tear slides down your cheek. You will never compare your sadness to theirs, but seeing them hurt in such a way pains you. Their marriage was arranged, yes, but Aegon and Helaena hold deep affection for each other. They simply have a difficult time showing it.

In this instance, there is no one who understands them better than each other. It is tragic but this should bring them closer together not tear them apart.

"Aegon is grieving. He can barely stand to look at himself because he feels like he failed his family, 'Laena. I promise you he will come around."

Helaena nods with her head on your shoulder. She is not convinced, but your words soothe her for the time being. Tears continuously slide down her face, and there is nothing you can do about it. You much prefer she cries it all out than hold it in.

"Come," you tell her, holding her hand and guiding her to the bath the maids had prepared before they left. "Let's get you ready for bed.”

You keep her close to you, reassuring Helaena you're there to stay as long as she needs. You help her untie the strings of her dress, and as you hang it over the back of a chair, she slips out of her smallclothes.

She accepts your hand to step into the bath. The water has now cooled, but she doesn't complain. It is the least of her worries. Helaena sits in the tub with her arms around her knees and silently cries.

Your goal tonight is to get her to rest. You can tell she hasn't slept in a long time, which will make her feel better.

Settling on the wooden stool next to the bath, you lather soap into the sponge and ask for her arm. Helaena complies, and you gently swipe the sponge across her skin. The maids were thorough as the smell of a calming oils invades your senses. They sincerely wanted to help their Queen.

Scrubbing down her arm, you note her nailbeds, which are red and raw. You're gentle with the soap when you reach her hand to prevent it from burning. Once you rinse it out, you bring her hand up to your lips, kissing her fingertips much like your mother would do when you got hurt.

Her crying calms when she catches onto your gesture, watching you in awe.

It is easy to note how she's thinned out as you continue to bathe her. Her skin presses against her ribs, showcasing each indent, and the bony prominences of her shoulders are much more palpable. It worries you to no end. Everyone has different coping mechanisms, but this is by far the unhealthiest one.

In the morrow, you will make it your goal to get her to eat. For a start, you will ask the kitchens to bake her favorite dessert. There has never been a moment where Helaena has refused a berry tart.

"Tilt your head back for me, love," you whisper, grabbing the pitcher of clean water from the table. Brushing Helaena's hair back, you pour the water, being careful not to get it in her eyes.

As she tilts her head back, she keeps her watchful eyes on you. She is in one of the most intimate positions, yet her lilac eyes reveal the most vulnerable parts of herself. You offer Helaena a comforting smile. Moving on from this tragic accident will be difficult, but we have to start somewhere.

When you lather her hair with soap and massage her scalp, she closes her eyes with a shudder. In turn, her shoulders relax, and goosebumps appear across her skin. A quiet moan slipping past her bitten lips.

Moving on to her face, Helaena watches you closely as you grab a rag to wash her face. You're so careful and tender with her. She has not made mention of it, but your touch feels pleasant against her skin.

You dab her neck next, looking over the wound that was cast upon her. You wish for it not to scar. Helaena needs no more reminders of that night.

After finishing the bath, you help her stand and dry off. Then, you follow her to the bed, where her nightgown lies discarded. With your assistance, she quickly slips it on. Helaena is quiet as she dresses; no more tears well up in her eyes.

"Let's brush your hair," you whisper soothingly.

Delicately, you glide the brush through her silver strands. You tackle the knots methodically to prevent pulling on her hair. A couple of drops of rose oil help greatly with the task as the bristles move smoothly across the long length of her hair.

Helaena sighs softly, and, through the mirror, you can see her eyes are closed. The poor thing must be exhausted.

"How are you feeling?" You ask her, tying the plait you weaved and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. You prop your head upon hers, cuddling her into you.

"Better, I suppose," she nods gratefully, grasping your hand hanging loosely across her chest. "I am tired," she admits.

"Let's get you to bed then."

Before you can slip away, Helaena protests and holds your wrist. "No, please." You're taken aback by the desperation in her voice. Why is she refusing to rest when her body begs for it?

"Helaena, when was the last time you slept?"

Helaena appears guilty. She swallows the knot on her throat, preparing to answer. "Not since that night. The nightmares do not allow me respite."

You sit beside her on the bench, keeping a firm grasp on her hand. "Do you wish to speak about them? It might help."

Her voice is barely above a whisper. "It's always the same. They return when the nights darkest and take Jaehaera."

Helaena is terrified. Many of her dreams have become reality, and this is one she would not be able to bear witness to. The things they do in her dreams are unforgivable. She cannot lose her daughter to those monsters.

Silence takes upon the room. Helaena cannot survive in a sleep deprived state, there must be something you can do. "What if we bring her here? She can sleep with you. That way, you will know she's safe."

Helaena ponders your suggestion, her eyes drifting away. "Will you stay?" Although a question the way Helaena's voice cracks, it's more of a plead.

"Is that what you wish, my Queen?" You ask, caressing her cheek so she returns to you from that faraway place in her mind.

She's quick to nod and squeeze your hand in gratitude. "Please," she whispers, leaning into your touch.

"Anything for you."

Helaena accompanies you to Jaehaera's new chambers. The King saw it fit Jaehaera did not reside in the room where her twin brother was murdered. A wise choice.

If your memory serves you well, Jace used to inhabit the space once upon a time.

Helaena almost runs to her daughter's cot, ensuring she's alive and well. You sympathize with her, it's natural to worry about your child if another was stolen from your life.

"Mama," Jaehaera yawns when Helaena picks her up.

"You're sleeping with mummy tonight, yeah?" Helaena whispers, cradling the back of her head and kissing the crown of her head.

Jaehaera, too tired to reason or even question it, nods and nestles into the crook of Haelena's neck. The sight is eerily similar to that fateful night.

The guard posted to protect Jaehaera escorts you to the Queen's chambers, standing on the opposite side of Helaena's white cloak guard.

Once inside, you slip off your robe and join her and Jaehaera on the bed. The girl is safely nestled between you both, pale lashes fluttering shut.

Helaena reaches for your hand to ensure you do not leave, and you lace your fingers with hers. "Sleep, 'Laena. I'll keep you safe," you promise her.

All it takes for Helaena to sleep is a lullaby your mother used to sing to you. It was of great tales of the people of Old Valyria. It was your favorite growing up, and now it is Helaena's.

By the song's end, Helaena's breaths even out and she succumbs to slumber. Although her face reflects her tiredness, the resemblance between Helaena and Jaehaera is stark.

When your eyes begin to close, eager to follow Helaena and Jaehaera to the land of dreams, the door creaks open. Startled, you sit up on the bed to search for an intruder, ready to scream if need be.

Aegon stands by the door, his chest heaving and his face pale. His hair is in disarray, and his eyes are wild with worry. "Where is Jaehaera?" he asks.

"She's right here," you respond, lowering the sheets and moving your body to reveal her resting upon Helaena's chest.

Aegon sighs in relief, and after a moment of hesitation, he timidly steps closer to the bed, observing the scene in front of him. He has taken to visiting his daughter's chambers throughout the night. He doesn't trust the guards, even if he is the one who assigned them. Aegon needs to see with his own eyes that his remaining child is alive and not endangered.

He had been frightened when the guard who was supposed to be posted by her door was gone, and worse, so was his daughter. Before he could scream, a maid walked in and, upon questioning, told him Jaehaera was in the Queen's chambers with her mother and the Princess.

You lay back against the headboard and observe him. He sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over you to brush a strand of hair away from his wife's face. Then, his hand lowers as his fingertip traces the slope of his daughter's nose.

"You should talk to her."

Helaena's words are clear as day in your mind. After witnessing Aegon in the same position, you reckon it would be good if they spoke to one another.

"I wouldn't know what to say," Aegon responds with a shake of his head.

"Yes, you do," you insist, resting your hand upon his, which lays on the bed. He glances questioningly at you, silently asking you to explain.

Your voice is light and soft. The last thing you want is to wake Helaena, although your instincts tell you it is doubtful. "Nobody understands what you're going through better than Helaena. She lost a child as well and feels just as hopeless as you do. Talk to her and tell her the words you would've liked to hear."

"It is that easy?" He asks in disbelief with a scoff. He looks at you for guidance. You've helped him more than anyone in the council or his own mother.

"Yes," you chuckle, and he joins you, if only for a moment. "Would you like me to go so you can stay?" You wouldn't want to intrude in a moment that can unite a family yet again.

Aegon shakes his head and urges you to stay abed. "It is alright. I will soon talk with 'Laena."

For a brief moment, Aegon presses his forehead against yours to show his appreciation. He stands with a press of his lips to your forehead and one more glance at his family. "Thank you for everything. I hope one day I can repay you for all your kindness."

"There's no need."

He does not speak but shares a glance that says a thousand words. Aegon closes the door behind him and turns to the guards standing by it.

Their backs visibly straighten when he addresses them. "Under no circumstance are you to leave your post. Your goal is to protect the Queen and the Princesses."

After all, his heart and soul are in that room.

STAY WITH US

came out a little longer than aegon but there was much to do with lovely helaena. queen helaena is a big reason as to why i hate alicent so much. alicent has let her down time and time again. how can she fucking ask helaena not to say anything about her and cole? fuck, alicent, she's not even thinking about that.

did you enjoy this one shot? please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept keyboard smashes, emojis, words of encouragement, praise, virtual hugs and alicent and cole slander) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

[mcdynamite]

Kissing has never done all that much for Steve, if he’s honest.

It's just not really something he's ever given much thought to before - the way someone kisses - despite the fact that he's locked lips with plenty of people. For him, kissing has always been something nice, but not particularly special. It's never been earth-shattering. Never taken his breath away, the way people talk about in movies and books. It's just a way to be closer to someone, and it's nice, but it's never anything more than that.

Then, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time, and suddenly he gets it.

They're high when it happens, laying side by side in Eddie's unmade bed while the weed sinks into their bones. Steve loves the way it seems to slow down the world around them - makes everything syrupy and sweet, so he feels every brush of Eddie's fingers against his own in every inch of his body as they pass the joint back and forth.

The casual contact makes him long for more, and when he's high, Steve just...gives into the longing. He lets himself drift closer until they're pressed together so closely that Eddie can hide his face in Steve's uncharacteristically messy hair when he's trying to cover up a snort of laughter in response to Steve's deranged weed-induced musings.

Tonight, they meander their way through a directionless conversation - as they so often do when they get high together - until the joint is so small it nearly singes their fingertips. When Eddie finally sits up to stamp it out in the ashtray on the bedside table, Steve tries not to miss the feeling of Eddie's body against his own too much, knowing it'll be back soon enough.

"I'm thinking of handing over the DM throne to Will for the next oneshot, after we finish this campaign," Eddie says, speech slow and thoughtful as he puts out the blunt. "Think he'll be good at it."

Steve just hums, eyes heavy-lidded, gaze fixed on the curls he wants so badly to run his fingers through, just to know what it feels like. He's high enough to not care about the consequences when he decides fuck it, and reaches out to feel the soft ringlets beneath his fingertips.

"You're good at it," he muses - a delayed response to Eddie's comment. If Eddie is bothered by the way Steve is carefully petting his hair, he doesn't show it. Instead, he turns back to look down at Steve with a soft smile that makes Steve's insides feel all gooey.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, a hint of a smirk overtaking the softness. "You ready to admit that you like watching me play my little nerd game, Harrington?"

Steve blames the quiet whine that escapes his throat on the weed, along with the way he honest-to-God pouts in response to Eddie's words. He tugs on a lock of Eddie's hair petulantly. "Don't like it when you call me that."

Eddie's face does something strange then, and Steve can't quite parse out what it means with the weed making his brain all foggy. He looks...surprised? Fond? Maybe both?

"Sorry, Stevie," he replies, teasing but somehow genuine at the same time. Steve smiles dopily, an expression that Eddie returns. "That better?"

Satisfied, Steve nods. Hums in affirmation. "Yeah. I like that one."

And it's true. Steve loves when Eddie calls him Stevie, because Eddie always sounds so fond when he does, and it makes Steve's heart feel too big for his chest.

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, still grinning as he leans down until he's propped up on one elbow, hovering just over Steve on the bed. "What else do you want me to call you, hm? Stevie? Steve? M'lord?"

The last one makes Steve laugh and close his eyes, happy to bask in the sound of Eddie's voice as he floats along with their conversation.

"Sir Steven? Sweetheart?" Eddie continues, and Steve's heart jumps just a bit at the second one. Then, Eddie murmurs, "Baby?" 

And Steve's eyes fly open.

Steve stares at his friend with wide eyes - lips parted as a soft, punched-out oh escapes him - and it's weird, is the thing. Because Steve has been called baby before, lovingly by his grandmother when he was still a little boy causing mischief while his parents weren't watching, meanly by boys on the playground when he cried over something silly like a scraped knee…and when he got older, teasingly by the girls he took on dates.

It's not a new name for him, but it feels groundbreaking nonetheless.

Because the word sounds so much better coming from Eddie's mouth than anyone else's. It's soft, and fond, and knowing, and...

It's longing.

"Yeah,” Steve croaks. "Yeah."

"Which one? Sir Steven?" Eddie asks playfully, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. He grins maniacally when Steve huffs and shakes his head in disappointment. "No? Which one was it, then, that you liked the most?"

"Eddieeee," Steve complains, burying his flushed face into the pillow and avoiding his friend's gaze. "You know which one."

Eddie shakes his head in an almost scolding manner and Steve is convinced he must've moved closer, because Steve can feel Eddie's breath against his skin, and the air in the room feels about a hundred degrees hotter.

"Nuh-uh, Stevie," Eddie says, poking him playfully in the ribs. "You gotta tell me which one."

Steve hesitates, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second. He sort of wants to hide, but he also really wants Eddie to call him that again. It's probably thanks to his intoxicated brain that he allows himself to answer truthfully. "Baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically shy.

"Yeah?" Eddie says, voice and smile softening in tandem. "You like when I call you baby, Stevie?"

Steve stares up at him with wide eyes, hardly able to believe this is really happening, and nods. "Yeah. That one."

Eddie is so close, now, that Steve can feel the warmth that emanates from his skin; can see the flecks of gold in his eyes amongst the molten chocolate brown. He's got freckles - Steve realizes. Tiny little dots across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks that form constellations on his skin. Steve thinks, maybe a bit deliriously, that he would be perfectly happy spending hours tracing them, the way astronomers of old once traced the stars.

"Eddie..." he breathes, heart pounding as he begins to feel more and more desperate for...for something. Anything to let him know that he's not the only one succumbing to the gravitational pull between them.

Eddie blinks slowly, and his eyes widen as though he's just realized something important. Steve watches his throat bob nervously before Eddie finally whispers, "Yeah, baby?"

Steve inhales sharply through parted lips - a soft, plaintive gasp that draws Eddie's eyes to his lips, and-

Oh.

That's what Steve wants, isn't it?

"I-" Steve tries, helpless to stop his own gaze from falling on Eddie's lips - pink and parted and just a little bit chapped, and so, so close.

"Baby," Eddie says again, and this time it's different. Unintentional. Like Eddie said it without meaning to. And maybe it's just the weed, but Steve swears he can feel the word burrowing its way into his chest and settling around his heart like a blanket. It makes his whole body feel warm - something only made worse by the hot coal of desire that begins smoldering low in his gut.

He's so lost in it all that he can't even bring himself to feel embarrassed when he whispers, "Please."

Steve waits with bated breath until finally, any remaining nervousness retreats from Eddie's eyes, and Eddie smiles in that way that makes Steve's stomach flutter. It's such a pretty smile. Steve can only watch as it grows closer, going cross-eyed for the briefest moment in his quest to to stare at Eddie's lips until suddenly his eyes are fluttering shut, because...because...

Because Eddie kisses him with lips still curled into a smile, and Steve thinks - utterly nonsensically - that feeling Eddie's lips against his own is so much better than just looking at them. The thought makes him giggle, just a bit, and he finds himself grinning into the kiss, too.

They part for a moment so Steve can let out another quiet giggle, and Eddie seems to pause for a moment, smiling down at Steve with poorly concealed affection. "Baby," he murmurs reverently, and then he's leaning down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss.

This time, Steve is ready for it, but it draws a muffled whimper out of him nonetheless. His nose fills with the scent of weed and cigarettes and cheap cologne - the smell of Eddie - and it's so overwhelmingly good. He lets his lips fall open on a gasp...doesn't close them when Eddie tentatively brushes his tongue against Steve's own. He shuts his eyes, because the press of Eddie's hand to his cheek and Eddie's chest to his own feel like so much more like that.

Eddie breaks the kiss to gasp in a breath, and inexplicably, that's what really sends every last bit of restraint in Steve's brain packing. It's so simple, so ordinary - the soft, quick sip of air Eddie takes in. It's a breathy little sound that Steve has heard from countless others before, but maybe that's why it puts him in this unfamiliar chokehold of wanting.

This isn't just anyone.

This is Eddie.

And Eddie is making those quiet, lovely little sounds because he's kissing Steve, and Steve is very rapidly realizing that he is utterly incapable of being normal about any of this.

He feels his cheeks go hot as he forces his heavy limbs to move so he can tangle his fingers in Eddie's curls, holding him close (because Steve thinks he might die if Eddie stops kissing him, now). And it's bliss. It's addictive. It's ruinously tender, and Steve feels himself unraveling from within. Feels the knots in his heart - left behind by absent parents, cruel friends, and distant girlfriends - turn to dust at the gentlest brush of Eddie's lips.

He whimpers into Eddie's mouth and clings to him even tighter, feeling his throat grow strangely tight as his eyes sting at the corners, and when Eddie pulls away he's got a small furrow in his brow, just under his bangs. 

"Stevie?" Eddie murmurs. His eyes dart to Steve's cheeks, and when he brushes his thumb along the skin just under Steve's eye, it drags a bit of wetness with it. Only then does Steve realize...he's crying.

And Eddie is wiping away his tears.

"I..." Steve croaks, eyes wide and spilling more tears with every blink. He drags his hands down from Eddie's hair to rest on his chest, beginning to curl into himself as the embarrassment sinks in.

Christ, he's crying. And all they've done is kiss.

Eddie's frown deepens, but he doesn't pull away completely. Instead, he lets their noses brush and breathes, "Baby..."

Steve's breath hitches.

"You're shaking, sweetheart," Eddie continues, still brushing Steve's tears away with gentle fingers. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Steve gasps hurriedly, because as far as he understands, it's the truth. "Nothing's wrong, I just..." He closes his eyes. Swallows the lump in his throat and admits with a trembling voice, "I didn't know it could be like this."

He opens his eyes and sees Eddie's expression soften, but the concern remains. "What do you mean?"

"I just..." Steve tries, sniffling and letting out a quiet, distressed laugh. He slams his eyes shut again and rubs them roughly with his palms, trying to force the tears back into his body. "Jesus, this is fucking embarrassing, man."

"Steve..." Eddie murmurs. He sounds sad. Conflicted. Like he's not sure what to do or how to help - if he should stay or go - and that just won't do, because Steve is certain he'll drift away on the breeze without Eddie to ground him. He's got to try to explain, even with his thoughts still feeling syrupy slow from the weed.

He wants to tell Eddie that he's kissed dozens of people before, but kissing them never felt like this. He wants to explain that he's used to taking the lead, and that it's nice having someone else set the pace, for once. He wants to tell Eddie about the way most people he's kissed have done so - frantically...lustfully. Kissing has always been a simple means to an end. And it's never made Steve feel like this.

What he actually manages to say is slightly different, though.

"No one's ever kissed me like they love me, before."

His eyes are still covered by his own hands, so he can't see what is surely a stunned expression on Eddie's face, but he can hear the way Eddie gasps in response to Steve's words.

It’s too much, he thinks. He's said too much, fast-forwarded too far into the movie. It's too early to be talking about love. Steve knows this. It's just...

His stupid, floaty little brain can't envision a world where someone kisses the way Eddie does without being hopelessly, irrevocably in love.

"Shit," Steve breathes after several minutes of silence. Or maybe it's several seconds. He really doesn't know. Time feels funny, when he's high. "I know that's, like, way too much. I'm too much. I don't know why I-"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts, and Steve snaps his mouth shut. He feels Eddie's hands wrap carefully around his wrists to pull them from his eyes. Eddie is being so careful with him...like he can't see that his tenderness is exactly the thing that’s ripping Steve apart at the seams.

Steve wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to drag Eddie back down and kiss him until he can't breathe. Until Eddie's sweetness becomes warm and comforting instead of feeling like the scalding heat of jumping into a hot tub after a dip in the cold waters of the pool.

"Baby, look at me," Eddie says softly.

Steve is helpless but to obey.

Eddie's gaze is sad but kind when Steve finally meets it with his own. He's got the barest hint of a smile on his pretty lips - the same ones Steve so desperately wants to feel against his own, again - and Steve feels his stomach swirl with something he can't quite describe.

"It's not too much," Eddie continues, voice steady. "And neither are you, okay? You, Steve Harrington, are never too much. Not to me."

The words settle over Steve like a blanket, and he can't decide whether it's comforting or suffocating. He just wants to stop talking about things so they can move on. He just wants Eddie.

"Eds..." he rasps desperately. "I don't- I just want-" He cuts himself off with the hitching breath of what may be a sob. He's not really sure, at this point.

"What can I do, honey?" Eddie says, and he really needs to stop with the pet names, or Steve might genuinely fracture into pieces. "What do you want?"

Steve is sunk too deep into the syrupy slow feeling of the weed - too desperate to feel Eddie pressed against him again - to do anything but tell the truth.

"Just want you," he says.

Eddie smiles - eyes crinkling at the corners - and Steve breathes the sight in like oxygen. "You have me, baby," Eddie murmurs. He's rubbing small, comforting circle into the sensitive skin of Steve's wrists now, and it's perfect. It's wonderfully, disgustingly perfect.

"I do?" Steve asks dumbly. His brain feels fifteen seconds behind everything, but he thinks that's probably okay. Eddie seems to be just fine waiting for him to catch up.

"Yeah, Stevie," Eddie chuckles quietly. "Had me for a long time, now. Just wasn't sure if you would want me the way I wanted you."

"You want me," Steve says breathlessly, more to himself than to Eddie. "You wanna kiss me."

Eddie's resulting laugh is a bit louder, a bit brighter, this time. "I do," he says. The sadness is fading from his eyes, giving way to something that looks an awful lot like elation. Steve remains still and watches, entranced, as Eddie carefully hauls himself up until he can swing a leg over Steve's to straddle him.

Still smiling broadly, Eddie leans down until their faces are mere inches apart, studying Steve with those big, brown eyes. "You gonna let me?" he asks Steve, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Steve nods, lips parted in surprise he can't quite seem to shake, and Eddie's expression softens.

"Gonna let me kiss you like I love you, Stevie?" Eddie whispers.

Steve's not sure when, exactly, his tears had begun to dry up, but he knows they must have at some point, because they're returning with a vengeance, now. "Please," he breathes.

Eddie shifts, and Steve expects Eddie to go right back to kissing him, but that's not what he does.

Instead, Eddie releases one of Steve's wrists and cups his cheek tenderly. This time, the feeling of his thumb brushing the tears away is a familiar one, and it makes Steve smile dopily.

"You know the reason I kiss you like I love you?" Eddie asks. Steve shakes his head and tracks Eddie's gaze as it drifts towards the place where his fingers are still wrapped around Steve's wrist. His lips quirk into a smile as he uses his grip to pin Steve's hand to the mattress, right beside Steve's head, and laces their fingers together.

Their noses are brushing, now, and Eddie's hips are resting on Steve's, and Eddie's hair has fallen around them like a curtain to keep the rest of the world out, and it's so much. Eddie is everywhere, and he's everything, and Steve is completely, unquestioningly in love with him - probably has been in love with him for ages, now, and just never let himself think too hard about it.

"I kiss you like I love you, Steve Harrington," Eddie breathes, and their lips brush as he speaks. "Because I love you."

And the thing is…Steve has spent his entire life wondering what it would feel like to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was loved. It's something that's eluded him for twenty years.

So it's all the more miraculous when Eddie kisses him again, and suddenly, Steve knows. He knows that Eddie Munson loves him. He feels it in the way Eddie kisses him slowly and deliberately, like it would never have crossed Eddie's mind not to. He feels it in their linked hands, in the way Eddie squeezes his hand when Steve makes a desperate, wanton sound into his mouth.

He feels it when Eddie brushes the hair out of his eyes and smiles before kissing Steve's forehead, then his nose, and then his lips again.

Feels it when Eddie's lips begin to wander down his neck.

When Eddie sucks a mark into the thin skin above his collar bone, just because Steve begs him too.

When Eddie pulls Steve's shirt over his head with careful hands, then lets Steve do the same, because Steve needs the intimacy of skin on skin.

He feels it when Eddie stops Steve's wandering hands from venturing too far south with a firm grip and apologetic eyes, because Eddie wants him - of course he does - but not when they've been smoking. Not when there's even the slightest chance that Steve might wake up and regret it in the morning.

And he hears it, too, later that night when they're laying in Eddie's bed exchanging soft, sleepy kisses, unwilling to drift off and let the night end, just yet.

Their legs are woven together - bare, aside from their boxers - and Steve has lost track of how long they've been tangled up in each other like this. He doesn't particularly care, though. He's pretty sure he could happily spend the rest of his life exactly like this.

"Love you, Stevie," Eddie whispers against his lips. They both smile into the next kiss, and Steve's heart is full to bursting, because he believes it. He knows, now, what it feels like to be loved...to be adored.

"I love you," he murmurs in reply, relishing in Eddie's sharp intake of breath. He giggles a bit, for no reason other than the pure joy that's been coursing through his body all night. "God," he laughs. "I fucking love you, Eddie Munson.

Eddie is quiet for a moment before his face splits into a grin that could rival Steve's own, and he's so goddamn beautiful that Steve almost feels like crying again.

He doesn't cry, though. He just watches adoringly as Eddie smiles and nudges Steve's nose with his own. "Yeah, baby?" Eddie teases.

"Yeah, Eds," he answers simply.

And he's pretty sure Eddie knows - is pretty sure Eddie can feel it - because Steve kisses him for the umpteenth time that night, and he pours every ounce of his heart into it. 

Steve kisses Eddie like he loves him, because he does. God, help him, he does.

And Eddie?

Eddie kisses Steve like he loves him back, and Steve gets it now, because it’s more than just a kiss.

It’s perfect.

It’s earth-shattering.

It’s everything.

--

Shout-out to @lyphyshard for the beta!

For more of my Steddie blurbs and one-shots, check out my masterlist!

[wintrwinchestr]

strangers | part 1

summary: following in the footsteps of a girl you once knew, you decide to up and leave home one morning without looking back. when you find yourself to be tired, hungry, and alone in the middle of nowhere, you're thankful when a kind stranger offers you a ride, a warm meal, and a place to sleep for the night. he only tells you about himself in bits and pieces, but he seems trustworthy enough, and what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!

I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.

warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, talk of death/murder and blood, mommy & daddy issues, brief talk of domestic violence, lying/gaslighting, manipulation, f-receiving non-con somnophilia (no sex, but groping, fingering, dry humping, kissing, and choking), degrading language toward victims, pet names (baby, darlin', sweetheart), some joel pov, no ellie/sarah but tommy has an unnamed daughter, somewhat inspired by "strangers" by ethel cain, takes place in illinois/ohio/indiana, vaguely set in the 70s/80s, this part is mostly introduction/storytelling/yapping, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags

word count: 9.8k

a/n: i started this as a oneshot way back in november, and then it sat abandoned for a very long time. thank you to my lovely friends @polaroidpascal and @chippedowlmug for encouraging me to finish it, and also bestie kiers who never hesitates to match my freak. also thank you to the many writers who made me feel inspired to write something dark and not give a fuck what people think about it. i hope you enjoy this joel he's a freak and i love him and if you say anything mean about him i'll send him after you <3

divider by @saradika

series masterlist/moodboard

read this chapter on ao3

part 2

Ruby Carpenter.

You had spent all day trying to remember her name without really knowing why. Maybe it’s because as the sun sets on what would be the first day of your junior year at the nearby state school, you wonder if she ever made it to one of the fancy ivy leagues she had always aspired to attend. You wonder if she’s even still alive.

Ruby had disappeared a few years ago now, the summer after your senior year of high school. For nearly a year afterwards, her missing posters remained stapled onto every telephone pole and stuck onto every store window around town, until the paper began to disintegrate and the ink began to fade. In that time, you couldn’t even make a quick run to the grocery store without being confronted by dozens of replicas of her yearbook photo printed onto the sides of all the milk cartons. Despite all of the efforts to find her, including several search parties and a decent amount of statewide media coverage, everyone had just stopped looking for her, eventually. Even the police. Even her parents.

It was decided that she had probably just run away, and you can’t entirely blame her, but you can’t imagine why she would, either. You remember her perfect head of blonde ringlet curls that shone a yellow gold in the sun, and her bright blue eyes that turned fiery in her more passionate moments during classroom debates. She had every boy in your grade wrapped around her finger, was the teacher’s pet in every class, and it wasn’t even a question whether she would win prom queen your senior year. She was always sweet to you, always complimented your outfits or your makeup or your art projects with a genuine lilt in her voice and a kind smile, so you could never bring yourself to hate her even though it would’ve been so easy to. You figured she was going to cure cancer or become the president after you had all graduated, which is why you never really stopped wondering whatever happened to her that summer. She was beautiful, with boundless potential and a bright future ahead of her, why would she have just given it all up?

Everyone around town knew Ruby, or at least it seemed that way. But maybe nobody ever really knew her as well as they thought. Maybe she’d had a secret boyfriend all that time who whisked her away that summer, maybe she had decided to try drugs and fell down a rabbit hole that she couldn’t claw her way out of, maybe she had finally figured out that the only thing this town would ever be good for is holding people back. Maybe she did just wake up one day and decide to run without ever looking behind her.

Maybe you should do the same.

With your dad long gone now and your step-father doing a piss poor job of filling in the hole he left, following in Ruby’s footsteps has sounded like a better idea with each passing day. Rob isn’t even really your step-father, anyway, just your mom’s sorry fucking excuse for a boyfriend. The guy’s already been married upwards of three times before, why try for another one? He’s a lazy son of a bitch who can’t hold down a job at a fast food joint for more than a couple of weeks at a time, who sleeps every second of the day that he’s not chugging through a six pack, and who leaves marks on your mother uglier than his fucking face. 

She doesn’t deserve to be treated that way, of course, but it’s not like she’s winning the “mom of the year” award any time soon, either. She’s never even been nominated. She’s forgotten just about every one of your birthdays, been the reason you’ve never had any friends come over, and in her most recent offense, blew all the savings you had put away for your last two years of college. Which is why you’re not spending tonight celebrating being one year closer to at least having an official-looking piece of paper to show for yourself. Instead, you’re using the rattling of your bedroom window unit and the booming bass of your radio to drown out yet another drunken screaming match between your mother and the guy she lets live in your house now, watching the world outside pass you by and knowing that if you don’t do anything about it now, you’ll never make it out of here. You’re thinking about Ruby Carpenter, hoping she found somewhere greener and more promising and was able to make something of herself, far away from here. And you’re thinking that this rusted orange sunset is the last one you’ll ever see from your bedroom window.

It’s decided, then. You’re leaving, first thing tomorrow.

—

You’ve only gotten a few hours of sleep by the time your alarm clock chimes to life at five o’clock on the dot. You’re quick to silence the shrill beeping with a swift swat of your hand, careful not to wake anyone else in the house. The sun has just barely begun to stream in through the blinds of your bedroom window, but it illuminates the room just enough for your eyes to land on the backpack you had stuffed full of a few changes of clothes last night, waiting for you by the door. 

You don’t waste any time stripping off your pajamas and pulling on just about the only clothes left in your room that aren’t in your bag. You’ve got your teeth brushed, face washed, and hair tamed in all of about ten minutes, too anxious to spend even one more unnecessary second in this house. You swing your backpack over your shoulder, pull your bedroom door open at just the right speed so that the hinges don’t squeak too loud, and tiptoe delicately down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards that you know like the back of your hand—the one three steps from the top, the one at the landing about halfway down, and the very bottom one.

You land softly when you leap over that tattletale bottom step, successful in the most difficult part of your escape plan so far. Rob is passed out on the living room couch in typical fashion, his mouth full of crooked teeth hanging open as his grating snores permeate the calm morning air. He’s still got a death grip around an empty beer can, even in his sleep, and your mother will likely be the one to toss it into the trash for him, useless fucker that he is. You aren’t going to miss either of them, and you imagine they’ll just skip trying to replicate the first half of the aftermath of Ruby’s disappearance altogether—no posters, no search parties, no police. You’ll just be gone, one less mouth for your mother to feed. Though, you’d been mostly feeding yourself since you were tall enough to slide a couple of bills across the counter at the corner store down the street, anyway. You’re ready to disappear, the same as candle wax when it burns, the same as the end of a rainbow, the same as Ruby Carpenter.

You don’t bother looking back when you shut the door behind you, content to leave it all behind just as the sun begins to rise and set the sky ablaze. By the time it sets again tonight, you hope to be in a different county, in a different state, anywhere that isn’t here. The rest, you’ll just have to figure out when you get there, wherever “there” may be.

—

You had only realized about an hour ago that you’d forgotten your cheap digital watch in the drawer of your bedside table, where it’s laid unused for the past couple of months, because who needs to tell time during the summer? You never had anywhere to be, never had to get to class or turn in a paper by a certain time, so it’s just been collecting dust since you had unclipped it from your wrist on the last day of spring semester. It sure would have come in handy right about now, when you have no fucking clue what time it is. The sun had disappeared behind the hills several mile markers back, so it must be… eight o’clock? Ten o’clock? Fucking midnight? You have no idea. What you do know is that you’re exhausted, hungry, and your feet hurt like hell. You aren’t really sure what you expected, the reality only just now setting in that you don’t even have ten bucks to your name anymore, thanks to your narcissist of a mother. The crumpled up bills you do have in your pocket are hardly enough for a goddamn sandwich, let alone a motel room. The cool night breeze raises goosebumps on your skin, and you swear you can see your fucking breath, even in the middle of August. You wrap your arms around yourself just as tears begin to prick at your waterlines, and you let them fall as you collapse onto the scratchy patch of dead grass on the side of the freeway, not a park bench or a bus stop or even a gas station in sight for God knows how many more miles.

You sit cross-legged, elbows propped up on your knees so that your hands can support your weary head, the skin of your palms becoming slippery with salty tears as your crying just doesn’t seem to stop. The road you’ve found yourself on seems relatively low-trafficked, the heaving sounds of your sobs accompanied by more cricket chirps and rustling wheat than rumbling tires. But a few high beams do streak across your vision every once in a while, coloring the backs of your eyelids a flaming scarlet.

After several minutes, your tears seem to dry up on their own, your body likely too dehydrated now to produce any more. You wipe the moisture from under your eyes with the back of your hand, sniffling as you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip and debate if you should just turn back now, give up on your stupid little plan (or lack thereof) and just call the whole thing a loss, pretend it never even happened. Your mother and Rob won’t have even noticed you’d left.

Just as you pull yourself back up to your feet, set on at least finding somewhere that isn’t the hard ground to sleep on tonight before you make your way back home tomorrow, the warm headlights of an old pickup truck are shining bright in your eyes. You put your arm up to block them as the truck slowly squeals to a halt in front of where you’re standing, and you squint your eyes at the driver as your vision adjusts.

“You need a ride, sweetheart?” A man asks in a gravelly voice, and you can still hardly make out what he looks like. Based on the southern accent you pick up on, he doesn’t sound like he’s from around here. 

“N-no, thank you. I’m okay,” you respond shakily, taking a nervous step back from the stranger and his rusted pickup.

“You sure? Looked like you were cryin’ over here, like you might be lost or somethin’.”

“‘M not lost, I know where I’m going.”

“Oh yeah? Where’s that?”

Shit. 

You take a guess.

“Um… the motel down the road,” you reply, tilting your head in the direction you had been walking in.

“There ain’t a motel down there, sweetheart. Ain’t nothin’ in either direction for miles, ‘s all just farmland out here. Reckon you’ve already figured that out, though.”

You pause, unsure of what your next move should be. He knows you’re lying, knows you’re alone with no fucking idea where you are or where you’re going. You could run, but even that shitty truck of his could catch up to you in a matter of seconds. You take another step back, swiveling your head around to look up and down the road as you try to figure your best way out of this.

“Just lemme give you a ride somewhere, darlin’. There’s a diner just off the exit, ‘bout twenty miles up ahead. Could take you that far, at least, get you somethin’ to eat,” he offers. A warm meal does sound pretty good right now, and you suppose you aren’t exactly in a position to refuse his help.

You think on it for a second. “What’s it called? The diner.”

The stranger huffs. “Moody’s.”

“What do they have?” you challenge.

He sighs. “It’s a fuckin’ diner off the side of the freeway, darlin’. They got greasy food and black coffee, ‘s about all you need.”

You don’t say anything.

Then, after a beat—“They got some kinda sloppy mess they call the Thunder Burger. ‘S got onion rings and shit on it. Ain’t half bad.”

You have to admit, he’s passing your pop quiz with flying colors. His answers have been too quick, too specific for him to be lying to you. There’s a pretty solid chance this diner does exist, and that he’s been there before. The man hasn’t said anything that’s indicated he wants more to do with you than to offer you a ride and some dinner. He’s probably just somebody’s harmless grandfather, anyway, judging by his motheaten flannel and gray-stricken beard you can see now that you’ve approached his truck a few paces closer.

“Okay,” you concede, your stomach growling loudly as the man leans over the bench seat to pop open the passenger side door for you. You shrug off your backpack and climb into the cabin, clicking your seatbelt into place as you situate yourself on the cracked leather seat. 

“All set?” the stranger asks.

“Mhm,” you hum, finally getting a better look at the man you might just owe the rest of your life to after tonight. For being somebody’s grandfather, he’s… kinda handsome. Really fucking handsome, actually, in a rugged sort of way. He’s got warm amber eyes that sparkle even in the dark of night, a kind smile that completely disarms you in an instant, and a splintering scar across the bridge of his nose that somehow only adds to his good looks. You try to suppress your own grin as you look away from him quickly, opting to focus on fidgeting with one of the fraying edges of your denim shorts instead. Even in your peripheral vision, you don’t miss how his eyes shift from your own to the exposed skin of your thighs. He doesn’t say anything, just clears his throat as he shifts gears and steers his truck back onto the road again. 

He lets the next few minutes pass in comfortable silence before asking, “You got a name, sweetheart?”

You tell him, and he flashes another charming smile at you. “I like that, ‘s pretty… Well, I’m Joel. Sure you were wonderin’. Now you ain’t gettin’ a ride from a stranger no more, are ya?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m not,” you giggle, and you’re surprised at how comfortable you feel with him. “So… you’ve been to Moody’s before?”

“Handful of times, yeah. When I’m passin’ through.”

You nod. “So you come up here, like… for work or somethin’?”

Joel chuckles. “Or somethin’. You never even heard of the damn place, so… reckon you don’t find yourself out here very often, do ya?”

“No… ‘M not even really sure where ‘here’ is, to be honest. I just kinda… started walking.”

“Ah… a runaway, then, are ya?” Joel asks, with an appreciated amount of understanding in his tone rather than judgment. “‘M sure your folks are missin’ ya right about now, must have your boyfriend worried sick.”

You scoff at that. “Fuck no. They probably don’t even know I’m gone, won’t even bother trying to come look for me. And I don’t have a boyfriend, so…”

“Damn shame. ‘M sorry about that, sweetheart,” Joel comforts, placing a large calloused hand on your thigh. It makes your breath hitch, but his touch isn’t entirely unwelcome. You let him squeeze once at the plush of your leg before he replaces his hand on the wheel, and your cunt spasms out a little fluttering pulse against the seam of your shorts, despite yourself.

The rest of the drive to Moody’s is relatively quiet, save for the gentle crooning of an old country singer emanating from the cassette player on the dash. The soft singing and steady strumming of a banjo combined with the muffled chugging of the truck’s engine is enough to lull you to sleep, especially after the day you’ve had. You know that just about every mental alarm bell you have should be screaming at you to jump out of the car, to run, that sleeping alone in the dirt would’ve been a better decision than getting into this strange man’s—Joel’s—truck, but you’re too tired to hear them. He smells good, like woodsmoke and pine and cinnamon, and if he wanted to do something awful to you, he probably would’ve done it by now. So you trust him, for now at least, and let your lashes fan out against your cheeks as your head falls back against the cushioned headrest, coaxed into sleep by the lullaby of tires against pavement and fingertips against guitar strings.

—

You only rouse when you feel the truck come to a stop about half an hour or so later, slowly blinking your eyes open against the bright neon sign that reads “MOODY’S” in bold capital letters. Your jaw stretches wide as a yawn overtakes the muscles, and you hear Joel’s southern drawl replace the one from the cassette as he shuts the engine off.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead. Not too tired to eat somethin’ now, are ya?”

Another unpleasant-sounding rumble from your empty stomach answers for you, loud enough for both of you to hear this time. The air puffing out of the diner’s kitchen smells strongly of fatty bacon and rich coffee, just like Joel had promised you the place would offer. Although the digital clock on the dash read just after 10:30 before you fell asleep, you’ve never craved breakfast quite like you do right now. You absentmindedly lick your lips as you imagine the sweet and savory—and more importantly free—meal that could be waiting for you beyond that blinding beacon of a sign.

“Well, alright then. Let’s get some food in ya before you keel over, hm?” Joel says as he exits the truck, landing on his feet in the dirt parking lot with a soft groan. He waits by the hood for you to meet up with him, and you walk up the couple of steps to the entrance together. He holds the door open for you, and you offer him a shy ‘thank you’, to which he responds with a soft spoken ‘welcome, sweetheart’. You stand shyly behind his broad form as he asks the hostess for a table for two, and she leads you to a green leather booth tucked into the corner of the diner. She hands each of you a sticky laminated menu, the pages a charming mess of clashing colors and faded pictures and retro-looking fonts, then departs with a promise that your waitress will bring the two of you some water as you take your time deciding on what you might like. 

You light up upon reading that Moody’s serves breakfast all day, and that they can make you exactly what you were hoping for—a stack of chocolate chip pancakes with sides of bacon and hashbrowns. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you wiggle in your seat, excitedly anticipating the waitress to come back around so you can order.

“Whatcha so excited about over there?” Joel asks, eyeing you from across the table as he glances up from his own menu.

“Nothin’, I was just hoping I could get some pancakes, and they have ‘em on the menu,” you explain giddily. “I’ll probably get some coffee, too, really complete the whole ‘breakfast for dinner’ thing.”

Joel huffs through his nose. “Decaf, I hope. ‘S the middle of the goddamn night, sweetheart. Gonna be bouncin’ off the walls in the room later, hardly get any sleep.”

He’s right, you suppose. But wait—“What room?”

Joel shrugs casually. “There’s a decent motel another exit or two down, figured they could probably get us a couple o’ beds for the night. But, ‘m sorry, shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No! No, it’s okay.”

Is it? You only met the man less than an hour ago, and you already agreed to let him give you a ride before you even knew his name. You suppose you hadn’t really thought about what would happen after he bought you dinner, but not thinking ahead seems to have been a theme today, hasn’t it? You remind yourself that he’s only been kind and respectful to you so far, save for that placement of his hand on your upper thigh soon after he picked you up. But that could’ve just been a friendly, paternal gesture, right? And he said a couple of beds, when he mentioned the motel, which seemed to imply that he plans on the two of you sleeping in separate beds, maybe even separate rooms. You’ve found yourself having to make yet another somewhat reckless decision tonight, but one that would be in your best interest to say ‘yes’ to, at this point. What other option would you have if you declined his offer?

“Don’t really have anywhere else to go, so… yeah, okay. Motel sounds good. And decaf it is, I guess.”

Joel’s apologetic expression quickly morphs into a satisfied smirk. “Good girl,” he praises. You like how the words sound coated in his thick drawl, even though you probably shouldn’t. You shift where you sit as that familiar fluttering sensation returns to the seat of your panties, just for a moment. You’re grateful that the waitress arrives at the booth not a second later, cheerily introducing herself as she sets down a glass of water for each of you. When she asks if you’re ready to order, Joel gestures to you as if to say ‘ladies first’, and you politely prattle off your request. You make sure to emphasize that you’d like your coffee decaf, and ask if she could please bring some more of the little cups of vanilla creamer to the table. “Not a problem, honey,” she replies, and Joel winks at you as she asks what she can get for him. He orders the Thunder Burger he had told you about earlier, and a black coffee, which he doesn’t request to be decaf. The waitress leaves the two of you alone again with an ‘I’ll have that right out for ya,’ and you let your eyes follow the calming baby blue color of her dress as she glides her way back to the kitchen. When she disappears around the corner of the bar, you take the opportunity to study Moody’s other patrons. There isn’t another young person in sight, mostly just men around Joel’s age with similarly heavy bags under their eyes, likely truck drivers indulging in their first hot meal of the day within the diner’s comforting wood-paneled walls. You wonder if that’s how Joel knows about this place, because he “passes through” this area on long hauls across the midwest. You open your mouth to ask him if your assumption is correct, but he cuts you off before you can say anything.

“I gotta admit, sweetheart, I’m curious… The hell was a pretty thing like you doin’ out in the middle of goddamn nowhere tonight? I mean, I know you’re a runaway ‘n all, but… shouldn’t you be one o’ those college party girls or somethin’? ‘M sure you got plenty of friends wonderin’ where you are.”

You sigh, shaking your head as you distractedly pick at a splintered piece of wood at the edge of the table.

“I was in college. Was supposed to be going back again this year, but… my mom spent all the fucking savings I had left for the rest of it on fixing up her dumb boyfriend’s car. It’s just been sitting in the fucking lawn all summer, sure as hell not being used for something useful like going to the job he doesn’t have. That bastard…” You say the last part under your breath through gritted teeth.

“Shit… Tha’s a tough deal, baby, ‘m real sorry to hear that,” Joel comforts. “But y’know, everybody’s got mommy ‘n daddy issues, don’t mean you just up and start walkin’ all by your lonesome, not even have any idea where you’re goin’.”

“Well, it wasn’t just that. There was… nevermind, it’s stupid.” You slump into the cushioned booth, silently cursing yourself for even bringing it up.

“What is it?” Joel pushes, sitting up straighter to show you that he wants to listen, wants to get to know you. And God dammit, he might be the first person you’ve met in a long time who actually seems to care about what you have to say, as strange as it is. You flick your eyes up to his face, and he’s wearing a sincere gaze that convinces you to continue.

“There was this girl I went to high school with. She disappeared a couple of years ago, nobody ever found out what happened to her. People figured she probably just ran away, and I thought… I dunno. That maybe she had the right idea, leaving that place behind. I always held onto this hope that maybe she was still out there somewhere actually doing something with her life, that maybe she just changed her name or something and disappeared on purpose.” You pause. “I guess I just thought I might be able to do the same, if I left.”

“I see…” Joel muses sympathetically. “Maybe I oughta give you a lil’ more credit, then. Must’a been tough losin’ a friend like that, not knowin’ where she ended up.”

“I mean, Ruby wasn’t really my friend. She just—”

“Hang on. Ruby, you said?” Joel interrupts, his eyes suddenly looking a little wild.

“...Yeah. Her name was Ruby. Ruby Carpenter.”

—

Fuck.

Joel has to adjust himself under the table, his dick now hardening uncomfortably in his jeans at just the mention of her name. He remembers Ruby, remembers chuckling to himself when he realized the irony of her name matching the color of her blood, remembers watching the news coverage of her disappearance in this very same diner, those handful of years ago. She was a sweet thing, he remembers this, too. It was a shame she had ended up being such a fighter, that she had to get put down the way she did. But she shouldn’t have thrown that fucking rock at his face, called him a sick fuck and a freak as she made her pitiful little escape attempt. Joel is lucky that all he came away from it with is that ugly little scar that mars the bridge of his nose. He can’t say the same for her.

“Why? You heard her name before?” You ask him, an unfortunate little twinkle of hope in your eyes.

“Maybe.” Yes. “Sounds a lil’ familiar, might remember hearin’ about it on the news or somethin’.”

That goddamn news coverage sure as hell taught him a lesson. Joel had spent months trying to keep the cops off his fucking tail after he had dumped her body on some forgettable patch of land behind an old decaying barn. He had even gotten pulled in for a fucking interview at the station in what he now presumes to be your hometown, where they had questioned him for an hour or so about her disappearance. He still isn’t sure how he talked his way out of that one. Ruby might not have been good for much else, other than pissing him the hell off with all of her pathetic crying and begging to just please, please let me go back home, but she did help him perfect his craft, he can give her that much. It’s because of her that Joel makes certain now that any girl he picks up doesn’t have anybody who will miss her or plaster her face on every local channel or send out goddamn search parties to find her. Girls like you.

You’re just so perfect, it would be so fucking easy for him to make you disappear for good, it’s almost comical. It had hardly taken any convincing at all to get you to climb into his truck, had taken even less to get you to agree to go to some seedy ass motel with him that might not even exist, for all you know. It does, but you didn’t even try to test him about it this time, just put all of your trust in him like a stray puppy would to the first person to pick it up off the street. That is just about what you are, he supposes. So far, you seem like the perfect candidate to become his little captive pet. If you keep it up, maybe you won’t meet the same fate as the rest of them. He’d told himself he’d be done after the last one, anyway, his body too old and achy and slow now to chase after the ones who put up a little more fight, like she had. She’d nearly escaped, made it a decent way through the woods and almost reached the main road before tripping on an exposed root and snapping her ankle. He remembers how weak and scared she’d looked before he’d used his knife to put her out of her misery, and it makes his dick twitch. Joel doesn’t plan on snuffing you out, not right now at least, since you haven’t given him a reason to. But his fingers still twitch where they rest on the table, moving out of instinct as he can’t help but imagine what they’d look like wrapped so tightly around your little throat. Would you cry? Would you beg? Would you pray? Would he have to glide his blade across your vocal chords just to get you to stop screaming so fucking loud? He wonders.

“Oh… Was that one of the times you were just ‘passin’ through’ for whatever reason you haven’t told me yet?”

Joel hadn’t realized that his eyes had been unfocused for so long, or that he’d been holding his breath, or that his hand had been squeezing his glass of water so hard he’s glad it hadn’t shattered. The airy sound of your voice brings him back to reality, and he huffs a light chuckle as he fixes his face into a more pleasant expression. 

“Yeah, ‘spose it was.” 

You roll your eyes at him playfully. “Come on, Joel. I just told you, like, my whole sob story. I feel like I deserve to know at least one thing about you now.”

You have a point.

He gives in. “Fine. I got a brother, used to come through this area when I’d pay him a visit. That good enough for ya?”

You cross your arms. “No. What’s his name?”

“Tommy.”

“What’s he look like?”

“Like me. Little younger. Little uglier.”

You laugh at that.

It makes Joel smile.

Maybe you could be the one he’s been looking for all this time. Too bad he had to waste so many others before he finally got to you.

—

The waitress comes back to your table soon after that, with your steaming plates of delicious-smelling food and hot mugs of coffee balanced expertly on a large plastic tray. She sets them down in front of the pair of you with a cheery smile, and you thank her happily when she doesn’t forget the extra sickeningly sweet cups of creamer you had requested. Joel doesn’t take his eyes off you once during the interaction, not even to feast his eyes upon the monstrous burger now sitting before him, not even as he thanks the waitress for delivering it to him. His lingering gaze makes you feel a little warm, but it could just be from the heat radiating off of your plates.

“What? You’re not getting a bite of mine, if that’s why you’re looking at me,” you tease, already getting to work putting the sugary creamer to good use.

Joel just shakes his head, his caramel colored eyes still never leaving you as your coffee begins to resemble their hue. “No, ‘s not why.”

“Whatever,” you reply through a giggle, making a poor attempt to hide your girlish grin behind the lip of your white ceramic mug. 

The two of you eat your meals in relative silence, mostly enjoying each other’s company and basking in the relaxing ambience created by silverware tapping against porcelain, hushed conversations, and the local country station playing through the old radio sitting on the counter. The reception is a little spotty way out here in wherever the hell you are, so you can’t quite tell what song it is. But Joel seems to know, judging by the rhythmic bouncing of his knee under the table that creates little circular ripples in your coffee. Maybe you’ll ask him what it is later, how he knows it, if you can listen to it again in the truck together. He doesn’t seem to be as much of an open book as you’ve already given yourself away to be, and you respect that about him. It doesn’t make you any less curious, but you resign yourself to getting to know him better in the small doses he’s willing to offer you. 

You decide to begin a mental list of all the things you want to ask him later, knowing that by the time you make it to the motel tonight, you’ll be far too exhausted to do anything more than just collapse onto the springy mattress and sleep until you get kicked out of the room the next morning. You almost wish you hadn’t listened to Joel’s request for you to take your coffee decaffeinated tonight, and you still aren’t quite sure why you did. It just feels so strangely easy to give into him, to trust him, to let him make decisions for you. You suppose that’s what you’ve been needing all this time, someone to guide you and understand you and at least pretend like they care about you. Joel has shown you more concern and care and protection in the last hour or so than either of your parents have pretty much your whole life. And he’s good at this, making you feel wanted, making you feel like somebody, even in subtle ways, just by looking at you.

“A’right, why don’t you finish up, darlin’, ‘n we’ll hit the road again. Practically usin’ your pancakes as a pillow over there.”

“Oh, sorry,” you apologize sleepily, waking yourself up enough to make quick work finishing off your plate and your last few sips of coffee. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout, sweetheart. Lord knows you need some rest, won’t be too much longer now,” Joel assures, fishing a few tens out of his faded leather wallet and placing them on the table. He slides to the edge of the booth and stands himself up with only a few pained noises as he straightens out his back, then offers his hand for you to take. You use it as leverage to pull yourself upright, and your hands linger in each other’s hold for a few seconds longer than they need to. The hostess thanks the two of you for stopping in when you pass her by, and Joel opens the door for you again as you leave Moody’s. He opens the truck door for you, too, and promises you that the motel is just another couple of minutes down the freeway. You make an effort to stay awake in your seat this time as Joel begins the drive, opting to gaze out the window and focus on trying to make out the sparkling constellations above the treeline. You smile privately at the moon when you find that she’s following closely behind you just as she always does, bright and full. 

She doesn’t leave your side until you reach the unassuming little roadside motel, which to your gratitude, proudly displays their vacancy on the flickering sign in the parking lot. It doesn’t look like a five star joint by any means, but you know it will serve its purpose just fine. Joel instructs you to stay in the truck while he goes about getting a room for the two of you, and you don’t object. He’d insisted that you didn’t need to be on your feet any longer than you already had been today, and you were too tired to argue with him even if you wanted to. When he returns, he taps lightly on the passenger side window so as not to startle you from the half-asleep, half-awake state you’ve found yourself in, and swings your backpack over his shoulder as he helps you out of the truck. He leads you to the room at the end of the row, and the door takes some finessing of the key and a shove of his shoulder to open. Joel flicks on the light, and you let out a disappointed-sounding ‘oh…’ when it reveals your accommodations.

There aren’t two beds like you had assumed Joel was going to request. There’s only one.

Joel catches your reaction. “‘S this gonna be alright? I know it ain’t the Ritz Carlton, but—”

“No, the room’s fine, it’s not that. I just thought… I just assumed that… I didn’t know it was gonna be, like… just the one bed.” You try to explain your discomfort as gently as possible, without seeming ungrateful for everything Joel has done for you tonight.

He looks at you sympathetically. “I know, I ain’t tryin’ anythin’, I swear. Guy told me it was the last room they had, jus’ figured it was better than nothin’.” 

You offer him a soft smile, but your eyes must still look a little wide as you begin to nervously pick at your fingernails. Joel continues, “I can take the chair if you want, darlin’. Get the bed all to yourself, how’s that sound?”

You visibly relax at that, your shoulders deflating as your smile becomes a little more genuine. “Okay, that’s good. Thank you.”

“‘Course, sweetheart. How’s about you take a nice hot shower, rinse off some o’ that dirt you picked up from walkin’ all day… Don’t suppose you got some suitable clothes in here for sleepin’ in?” Joel asks, handing your backpack off to you.

You shake your head. “Just some jeans and t-shirts, and another pair of shoes. And… y’know, some underwear, and stuff.”

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, then rubs his fingers across his forehead exasperatedly. “I swear… it’s like you didn’t think there’d be a tomorrow or somethin’, girl. Christ.” Joel looks out the window to his truck parked just outside. “Tell you what, think I got somethin’ in the truck you can wear. Why don’t you see if they got anythin’ on the TV tha’s worth a damn, ‘n I’ll be back, alright?”

You nod, “Okay,” then set your backpack down on the drab carpet in favor of picking up the remote perched in front of the small square television. You sit yourself down on the edge of the bed as Joel leaves the room, and begin to flick through the few channels that aren’t just a screen full of snowy static.

Local news. Commercial. Game show. Commercial. Documentary. Commercial. 

Eventually, you land on what seems to be one of those old black-and-white western shows that you can never remember the name of. You only know that the reruns used to play on Sundays around lunchtime, because Rob would always be half paying attention to it with a beer in his hand when you and your mom would get home from church. For how adamant she was that you attend every weekend, she sure never called him a harlot and a sinner for not wanting to go with her. You’re not sure she had ever even tried to get him to go, but he probably didn’t own anything decent enough to wear, anyway. Whatever, fuck them. The show seems like the kind of thing Joel would like, so you let it keep playing. 

He comes back a moment later with a small stack of folded up clothes, tossing them over to where you sit on the bed. You unfold what he’s given you and examine them—a pair of simple pink cotton shorts, and a white tank top with a ditsy floral pattern scattered across the fabric. The clothing is a little more revealing than you’d like, but you figure you’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable wearing them to sleep than the denim shorts you have on now.

“These are… great. Thank you, Joel. But…” you snicker. “Should I be concerned that you have a very convenient supply of girls’ clothes in your truck?” Joel scoffs. “‘S for when I got Tommy’s kid with me, smartass. He’s got a daughter, few years younger ‘n you.”

“Okay, well, I dunno how I was supposed to know that, but… as long as you don’t have a girlfriend who’s gonna come after me for wearing her clothes.”

Joel only chuckles in response, his attention suddenly pulled to the TV.

“Gunsmoke, huh? ‘S a good choice, definitely what I’d classify as ‘worth a damn’.”

You smile to yourself, and his approval makes that warm fluttery feeling return to your belly. “I didn’t even know what it was called, just seemed like something you’d like.”

He turns back to you. “That obvious, huh? ‘S just ‘cause I’m old and southern, ain’t it?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit, making a pinching gesture with your hand.

Joel nods as he makes his way over to the armchair on the corner of the room, collapsing onto it with a groan. “Well, why don’t you go ‘n get yourself all changed and cleaned up, ‘n if you’re quick enough maybe we can finish the episode together and then get some shuteye, hm?”

You swiftly unzip your backpack to retrieve one of your clean pairs of underwear, then bound over to the small bathroom with them and your new change of clothes in hand. It’s not the most spotless one you’ve ever had to use, but you’ve honestly seen much worse. You rinse off quickly in the steaming shower, using the scratchy motel-provided washcloth to scrub the dirt from your legs, stuck to you with the sweat you worked up from God knows how many miles of walking today. 

Today. You can hardly believe it hasn’t even been a full 24 hours since you left home yet. It seems like you’ve already known Joel for days, maybe even years, as silly as it sounds. You wonder if he might just take you in after this, or if he’ll have had enough of providing for you after just one night. He seems like a man of limited means, and he’s already given you so much. If you’re brave enough, maybe you’ll ask him tomorrow, when you get to the ‘so… what now?’ part of your time together.

For now, you step out of the shower and dry yourself off with an impossibly scratchier towel, then pull on your panties and the tank top and shorts Joel provided you with.

Jesus, how much younger is Tommy’s daughter?

The shorts just barely cover your ass, and there’s a sizable gap between their waistband and the bottom hem of your top. The thin, white material of the shirt only serves to accentuate the way your nipples poke through the fabric, but you suppose there isn’t anything you can do about that.

You quietly crack open the bathroom door, and are somewhat relieved to find that Joel’s already fallen asleep in the chair. You do wish you could’ve finished the episode of Gunsmoke with him, but the end credits seem to be rolling already anyway, and you’d rather avoid being seen in your very ill-fitting pajamas. Although, you do wonder if he’d say anything, or if he’d just let his hungry gaze linger in silence again, holding himself back from touching you beyond a comforting pat on the thigh.

You pick the remote up off the bed and use it to make the TV screen sizzle to black, then tip toe over to the lightswitch by the door and turn it off, the room now completely shrouded in darkness. Joel snores softly from the chair as you blindly feel your way back over to the bed, pulling the covers back and nestling yourself underneath them. The bed is surprisingly comfortable, considering, and it doesn’t take long for your exhaustion to catch up with you. Your thoughts become slower and slower along with your breathing, and you’re asleep not even five minutes after your head hits the pillow.

—

The last room they had, yeah, right. You’re just the most pathetic little thing, aren’t you? You’ll believe just about anything that comes out of his mouth if he turns up the ‘southern charm’ dial a few ticks, throws in a feigned apologetic-looking expression for good measure. It’s sad, really. For you, anyway.

Joel fakes his snoring for another thirty minutes or so, until he’s certain you’re sound asleep. He had heard your breath even out almost immediately after you had tucked yourself in, but he had chosen to lay in wait for a little while longer, just to make sure you wouldn’t put up too much of a fight when he made his move. You don’t seem like the type, considering how you’d hardly argued with him at all tonight, like when he had convinced you to forgo the caffeine with your dinner. There’s a reason he wanted you sleepy and subdued tonight, but you didn’t know that. Joel likes how well you listen to him, how easily you do as he asks.

He also likes how warm you are, how small your body is compared to his own, the difference in size especially prominent now that he’s laying snugly against you, his front pressing firmly into the back of you. You don’t wake from his lumbering movement, only coming to slightly when you feel his arm slide underneath your body, his warm hand snaking its way beneath your tiny shirt to squeeze at your plush tits. 

You mumble out a little “Hm?”, which he’s quick to quiet with, “Sorry, darlin’. Chair was too hard on my damn back. Just go back to sleep, ‘kay?” That chair felt like laying on a goddamn cloud compared to some of the other surfaces he’s found himself having to sleep on before, but again, you don’t know that, and what you don’t know won’t hurt you. You probably won’t even remember this in the morning, how his hard cock is slotted so perfectly against your ass, especially without the confines of his thick jeans holding him back. They’re discarded onto the floor now in front of the armchair, along with his flannel shirt and jacket. Joel holds you tightly against his bare, hairy chest as he circles a roughened pad of his finger around one of your nipples, smirking to himself at how quickly the bud hardens from his touch. He knew you wanted this, and the wet spot that the fingers of his other hand are teasing in the gusset of your panties is proof of it. How long have you been leaking for him like this? Had you been soaking the seat of his truck earlier today? Filthy thing.

You still don’t rouse when he pulls your panties aside and slips a finger inside your slick cunt, or when his grip on your tit loosens in favor of sliding up higher under your tank top, his hand coming to a rest around the base of your throat as he pumps his finger in and out of your tight heat. It would be so fucking easy…

But he can’t, he won’t, because you’re not like the others. You want to get to know him, you let him take care of you, you seem to like his company, and you don’t leap out of bed and call him a fucking perv and a dirty old man for what he’s doing to you. That’s what the others would have done. It’s what they have done. And they faced the consequences.

But you’re different. You’re not like them. You’re like him. A lost soul, that’s what you are. Nowhere to call home, no one who misses you or loves you or gives a damn what happens to you. Joel’s mouth had tasted bitter when he had told you about Tommy, or rather, lied about him. Joel hasn’t seen the fucker in years, certainly doesn’t pay him any visits or watch his brat, not since Tommy had learned the truth. You better not show your goddamn face around here ever again, you understand me? Tommy had spat at him. You’re fuckin’ sick. Only reason I don’t turn your ass in myself is ‘cause you’re my goddamn brother. But if I ever fuckin’ see you again, I won’t hesitate. Better make yourself pretty fuckin’ scarce ‘fore I change my mind. That might’ve been about the only time Joel had ever taken orders from his little brother. 

That bitter flavor is cut by the sweet tang of you that he tastes on his finger now, so young and eager and fresh. The hand around your throat squeezes a little tighter, and Joel’s hips begin to move against your ass as he allows himself to suck wet kisses onto the skin under the hinge of your jaw. Softly, gently, so as not to wake you. He could come just like this, using your pliant body in your sleep, rutting himself against your still form with the taste of your pussy on his tongue and his fingers pressed against your pulse points.

He’s close when you stir again, making broken hiccuping sounds as you choke on your breath.

“Shh, shh,” Joel soothes. “You’re alright, sweetheart. ‘S just me. Just—fuck—hold still, go back to sleep, baby.” You let out a quiet whimper, squirming against him just a little bit, but return to your unmoving and silent state a second later. Joel finishes himself off quickly with another couple of shallow thrusts against you, his large hand still gripped around the column of your neck, trying to stifle his groans as he spills into his briefs. He removes his suffocating hand and keeps you pressed tightly against him for a while after that, tanned arms wrapped around your waist and breathing in your scent as he waits for you to settle back down. 

When he’s sure he won’t disturb you again, Joel releases you from his hold and pads quietly back over to the armchair, redressing himself and resuming the position you had left him in. In the morning, if you do remember any of it, you’ll just chalk it up to a very strange dream, one fueled by the desire he knows you’ve felt towards him since he picked you up. You’ll be left with a strange assuredness that he feels the same way about you, without really knowing why. 

But Joel will always know.

—

The digital clock on the nightstand only reads around 8:00 when you’re awoken by a beam of sunlight shining brightly against the backs of your eyelids, streaming in from the window’s lopsided blinds. You had gone to sleep with your back to Joel, but you find yourself facing him now. He looks kind of peaceful when he’s asleep, that permanent furrow etched between his brows finally smoothed out as he dozes. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, but they fall quickly when you adjust your legs and feel the cool dampness against your core, the sensation bringing back the memory of the dream you’d had last night. 

It had felt so real, but it couldn’t have been, could it? There’s no evidence that Joel had really laid next to you last night, that he’d really touched you like that, that you’d wanted him to keep going. It must just be some kind of strange side effect of the affection you feel toward the man who had rescued you, more or less. You’ll likely just part ways after today, anyway, so it’s probably best to just try and forget about the whole thing, put on a fresh pair of underwear and pretend it never happened. 

Joel is awake by the time you’re done freshening up in the bathroom, and he greets you with a raspy ‘Mornin’, sweetheart’ as you retrieve your backpack from next to the bed and shove your ruined underwear into the bottom of it. “You get some good sleep last night?” He asks, rubbing a hand over his eye.

“Mhm, the bed was nice, more comfortable than the one I had at home, honestly.” You finish zipping your backpack closed and sit back down on the bed, pulling on some socks and the lace up sneakers you had been wearing yesterday. “I hope the chair was okay, like, for your back and everything.”

“What makes you say that, baby?”

You pause in the middle of tying one of your shoelaces, turning to look at him with a confused pout. “Didn’t you…? I thought you had told me something about how the chair would be hard on your back. Like, last night.”

Joel frowns, shaking his head. “Don’t think so, darlin’. Chair was just fine.”

“Oh… Well, that’s good.”

Maybe it had just been a dream, then.

Joel hands you a few bills from his wallet, and tasks you with getting the two of you some breakfast from the gas station across the street while he cleans himself up. He tells you that he doesn’t eat much in the mornings, but that you can get yourself whatever you want, as long as you bring him back a carton of cigarettes and a black coffee. You obey eagerly, retrieving what he asked for and getting a pack of miniature powdered donuts and an equally as sugary coffee for yourself.

He’s just stepped out of the bathroom when you return to the room, and your face feels hot when you see him with his dark hair slicked back and wet from the shower. The few strands that fall onto his forehead as he laces up his boots almost make him look a little boyish, despite his whitened temples. 

“Such a good girl, thank you,” Joel praises when you hand him his items. 

You respond with a shy ‘You’re welcome’, but he doesn’t miss how you seem to light up at his words. You plop yourself down onto the worn-in chair that Joel had used as a bed last night, happily munching on your gas station donuts and sipping on your coffee. It all makes you feel warm from the inside out.

But you figure you should find out what the rest of today might look like before you let yourself enjoy the beginnings of it too much.

“So, um… We’re just gonna check out this morning and then… what?” 

“Whaddya mean, baby?”

“I mean… are you just gonna, like… take me to the nearest bus station or something?”

Joel’s confusion is written all over his face, embedded deep into those lines between his brows. You could swear he almost looks a little hurt. “Why would I do that? ‘S that what you want?” He asks softly.

You try to backpedal a little, afraid you might’ve offended him or seemed ungrateful in your question. “I just thought it might be what you want. That you probably have somewhere else you need to be, like Tommy’s or—”

“No, I don’t,” Joel says definitively.

You pause. “Okay, so—”

“You ever been to California?”

His question stumps you for a moment, seeming so random in its nature. “No.”

“You want to?”

You shrug. “I mean… sure. Maybe someday—”

“Why don’t you come with me then, baby?”

You let out an awkward giggle. “...Come with you where?”

“To California. Come with me.” Joel’s tone is genuine but firm.

“Like, today? Are you sure?”

“I mean, we ain’t gettin’ there today, darlin’. But yeah, I’m sure. We both got nowhere else to be, do we? So let’s just go, we’ll see it together.”

You beam up at him, realizing that he’s being serious. Joel does want you, wants you to be his companion, maybe even something more that you’ll discover on familiar-looking back roads and in cities you’ve only ever seen pictures of. 

“Okay,” you agree excitedly. 

Joel nods. “Okay, then. Lemme go check us out ‘n we’ll get back on the road again. Burnin’ daylight already,” he jokes. He carries your backpack out to the truck for you, setting it down between your feet after he opens the door and helps you inside with a stable hand. It only takes a few minutes for Joel to hand in the room key and pay for the night, and then he’s back at your side. You begin to feel like that’s where you always want him to stay. 

“So, where to first, baby? California ain’t goin’ anywhere, can take as long to get there as we wanna. We’ll go wherever you like, take your pick.” Joel leans across your body to dig a folded up map out of the glove compartment, handing it to you. 

You examine it, your eyes darting across the dozens of dots with the names of cities next to them, some you’ve never even heard of. You point to one that you have heard of, but have never been to, because you’ve never even left the state you grew up in before.

“Um… how about Detroit? I’ve heard it’s nice, I think.”

Joel belly laughs at that. “It ain’t, but sure. You wanna go to Detroit, that’s where we’ll go. Buckle up, baby,” he instructs, patting your thigh. You oblige, and it feels good to finally know where you’re going, and that you’re going there with someone who cares about you, who feels safe, who wants you around. You also feel a little hopeful that maybe you were right about Ruby, after all. That you didn’t start walking for nothing, that you weren’t following some childish delusion, that if something as good as Joel had happened to you when you left, that maybe she had found herself on a similar path, ran into somebody good who took her wherever she wanted to go and helped her find someplace she belonged. Maybe she found her way out to California, eventually. What you are certain of is that neither of you ever have to go back to that town ever again, and that feels good, too.

And if it feels good, then it can’t be bad.

tag list: tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg @alex-does-art-things @evolnoomym @annoyingmarvelreader @k1l4ni @joelsdagger (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[nabitsun]

— SPINE BREAKER shy! choso x fem reader

᭝ synopsis : who knew you just needed good dick from a shy boy to lose that attitude.

᭝ tags : smut & little angst? uni (both in their 20s), reader is kind of a minx but you'll pick that up.. (well, all reader's friends are), oral sex (f), pussyjob, unprotected (pull out game 10/10), uhh sweet choso duh <3

᭝ wc : 11.5 K

᭝ notes : t'was supposed to be a one-scene typa oneshot but got carried away - blame it on choso. (i remixed that shit 4 times)

"shoko.."

"what is it?"

"no need to put these under my nose i've told you, i'm not coming." you slap her hand away gently, she's holding two entries for a random party in town.

"oh but you will." she smiles.

you know you will, you always do.

"c'mon i have two entries? i can't waste them."

"exactly, ask yuki to come with you."

"she also bought two entries, she's already coming with someone else."

you give her a quizzical look,

"i don't know any better, she didn't say."

"she's probably inviting aoi over again, God.. another reason to not come.." you shake your head at the sole thought of the man.

"who's that?" she says, switching up outfits in front of her as she ponders in front of the mirror.

"y'know that meathead eccentric guy who's like, super fan of her,"

"ohh, that one.." she hums in thoughts "mh, i doubt it though. the last time he was here, he didn't leave with that same smug face. if he keeps getting into trouble the way he does, I doubt she'll invite him back."

she's referring to the last time yuki invited aoi to one of these parties, not to sugarcoat anything but he definitely learnt the hard way to not be an arrogant show off.

"i hope not." you mumble

"stop trying to find excuses. you're coming with me, we're gonna have a good time, end of story."

you let out a crude laugh, "let me rephrase. you're gonna have a good time, and i am gonna get bored out of my mind." you can see her roll her eyes, "i don't even see the point of going there."

"because you don't try to have fun."

"if trying to have fun implies rubbing myself on some smelly drunk strangers with shitty ass songs in the background, then yeah i'd rather not try."

"you're no fun, it's not that bad."

"it's not that bad until you reach your fifth drink" you quick back as you cross your arms over your chest as if to withdraw from this endless battle that you know, will defeat you.

"aren't you being a little dramatic, now?" shoko barely looks at you with raised eyebrows. she knows as well as you do that beyond her tolerance limit she's no longer controllable, which is why you've spent many nights taking her home and trying - as best you could - to bring her back safe and sound. she won't admit it though.

you dismiss the (probably) rhetoric question, "since yuki's coming, why do you want me to go so bad?"

"what a silly question." she sighs as if she'd heard a child say the most gullible nonsense, "i like having you around, that is all."

"something is tellin' me you don't wanna end up third wheeling," you sing song.

"shut up.. you're coming anyway." she avoids your stare and lets out a heavy sigh, "you like the blue one?" she twirls the dress on its hanger around and turn over to face you, she tilts her head on the side as if to weight your future answer.

"i like the purple better."

"that's what i was thinking.."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

being confided in the car with a loquacious shoko didn't help the growing headache you felt in the back of your skull. it had been a tough week.

your exams were approximately in a week and just thinking about it actively made your head hurt even more, and your throat tightened with culpability.

"hey, don't die on me now." shoko glares at you from the side as she's driving to the house. you feel her checking you multiple times.

"i'm fine," you sigh, rubbing your temples in an attempt to soothes the growing pain – that eventually worsened when shoko suddenly hit the brakes, a bit too abruptly to your liking, at a stop sign.

"girl, you either need a good night sleep or some good dick." she clicks her tongue, "look at you," she emphasizes by shaking her head as if the sole sight was too much for her.

"focus on not getting us crashed already."

"i'm serious though, you want some water?"

"no–no, i told you i'm okay." you look ahead of you, resting your head against the headrest for some support ; flashes of cars and traffic lights interacting in the night, "you drive like shit though."

"wow. okay, you'll show me how much of a good driver you are when you'll drive me back tonight, yeah?" she chuckles, taking a second turn on a new avenue.

"having you drunk in the back of the car is a constant fight of trying to not make you throw everything up, of course i have to drive nicely."

you see your friend nodding as she taps her fingers on the steering wheel, apparently at loss of words.

"mhm, thanks?"

you relax back with a content smile, "i prefer that,"

the house is not so far from your respective apartments, also not far from your university, which is around a fifteen minutes drive.

you can't really be mad at shoko for dragging you to those places ; the kind of places where she often ends up with a grain of lucidity to keep her half upright, while all the rest of her cognition makes her look like a psychotic out of an asylum. and even though you're practically always the one driving her back to her place, it doesn't exclude the fact that you need this sometimes.

despite your complaints of not wanting to go with her – for various reasons that you listed prior, but also because of your upcoming exams that are sucking the energy directly out of you – you still kind of look forward to the evening, if you're being honest. it gives you the opportunity to sit back and suspend the course of time for an evening, as ephemeral as it is.

the car stops at a red light as you think back to shoko's words, back in her room.

"yuki still didn't tell you about her special guest ?" you mindlessly ask as you fix your makeup by looking in the mirror of the sunshade, curling your eyelashes with the edge of your index to fix them.

"nope, i might have an idea though.." she pauses, you don't say anything as you wait for her to continue, "you know that guy she hangs out with sometimes? she's not like always with him but i don't think she'd invite anyone else, knowing her.."

"what guy?" you frown, you close the sunshade to look at her.

"uhh, black hair, pale skin, really quiet too. one of those snobs who behaves like termites by staying in their hole, you know. i don't even think i've ever talked to him, or seen him talk for that matter." she squints her eyes to reminisce old memories but the sudden shift of color on the traffic lights makes her focus back on the road.

"like what? a sorta depressed emo boy or something?" you scoff.

she laughs, out of mockery for your credulity it seems, "pretty close. but he's really.. the nerdy type y'know? the type to sit there and not say a word unless spoken to about some stupid nerdy shit, i guess."

"as long as he doesn't talk about fuckin' uni or something like that tonight, i'm good." you sigh at the thought as you close your eyes, clearly ignoring the silent warnings in her eyes.

"oh girl, you're such a fucking minx."

you ignore her offense when you continue your interview, "why would she invite him though? i mean why would he even come?"

"why did you?"

you keep silent.

"exactly," she states, "now keep your curiosity to yourself, you're about to find out."

after a few bends leading to the far end of town, you then remark the students crowding the lawn, stepping everywhere as some of them walk to the entry of the house.

no wonder you had to pay entries to get to some crackhead student party – you understood when you saw the size of the house and how many people there was. you silently hoped there was no one around as they would probably spend one hell of a night.

"not too far, i don't wanna have to carry you fifty meters tonight." you warn as shoko tries to find a good parking spot.

she sends you a hard glare and mumbles something inaudible that almost sounds like an insult. she seems to comply anyways as she parks not to far from the entry.

you were met with fresh air as you stepped outside the car, the extremities of your skin growing cold as well as your bare legs barely warming up with the strides you were taking. it was only eight in the afternoon and yet, you already saw wobbly people trying to walk their way out of the house. the two of you approach the path leading to the house, hearing the music as it gradually intensifies.

"there," shoko throws the car keys to you as you catch them hardly in your hands, "in case i lose them during the evening, you're in charge." you don't say anything, you'll have to drive back home anyways.

the calm atmosphere of an april evening was replaced without much transition as you walked past the open doors. the lights of the traffic lights now seemed far less stimulating in comparison to the sight in front of you. and paradoxically, your headache had disappeared, making you guess it was indeed, shoko's driving.

shoko turned around and took your hand to lead you through the numerous ponds of people hovering the place, talking, singing, dancing or even making out grossly. your steps grew heavier – whether from the combined heat of everyone weighing down on you or the vibrations of the boosted bass – it felt as if you were clearly reaching the pit of hell, both physically and symbolically.

and you could feel that with every steps forward, requiring the unsolicited touch of people brushing past you. the odors coming on play for less than a few seconds to merge with your own scent, just to disappear as soon as it entered past your nostrils. the lights changing from blue to purple to pink or even red, reflecting on the few skin shoko was showing with her slip dress as she was leading the way.

to say you were getting overstimulated was understandable. it was like getting thrown into a pit with only hungry lions to face; and with that dramatic metaphor you noted that the first lion you'd have to fight tonight, was the woman in front of you.

once you both reached what seemed to be the main saloon – though it was hard to decipher with the ton of people and the lack of furniture, beside some occupied couches. you didn't even know who was hosting the party to be fair, it seemed to change every other week like some sort of competition of who's gonna have the privilege to clean the big mess next morning – although you'd guess they probably have someone to do just that.

you were so focused on the environment you didn't even see the golden shadow passing by when a pair of fingers snapped you out of your illusion.

"you look like it's your first time at the zoo."

by the tone and voice you wouldn't even need to turn around. yuki looks at you with crossed arms in a sleeveless black turtleneck and flare jeans with a hint of a smile – out of friendliness or amusement, you didn't know.

"definitely feels like it," you smile back as you reach out to embrace her, which she welcomes.

"i see, shoko brought you here just to be her cab home then hm?" she tilts her head ignoring the way shoko snapped her head in her direction.

"hey don't say that! i wanted her company t–"

she gets interrupted by a loud noise, not seemingly coming from the music but by someone who just seemed to crash down on a wooden coffee table – one of the furniture you had such a hard time to see apparently because some people decided to stand on it. both girls in front of you roll their eyes almost in sync.

"well, looks like the alcohol's kicking in. you're coming with me?" yuki addresses to shoko and you.

"yeah i need to get something, i don't like how aware i am right now." shoko shakes her head in disapproval of the events.

the three of you approach the kitchen, where all the drinks stand upright and ready to use like weapons of war laid out on a table.

you don't venture into drink design, preferring to leave it to shoko or yuki, who apparently know best what they're doing since they're arguing over whether pineapple or cranberry would be more suitable to mix with vodka. once the ingredients are mixed, you all take a sip to mark the start of your evening.

"ew what the–" your body shudder lightly from disgust as you lower your hand over the counter, "tastes like piss seriously.." you whine and look at the wrongdoer.

"told you pineapple was a bad choice." yuki restates, but she's ignored by shoko, who takes the cup from your hand and pours the contents into her own cup.

"fuckin' alcoholic.." you breathe out in amusement.

"i paid for these, might as well make it worth my while." shoko rejoins and it makes you think..

"hey yuki, talking about entries, where's your guest?"

she takes another sip before answering through the music as she leans over, "he told me he wanted to use the bathroom, he went upstairs i think but.." she looks around, ".. i don't see him around, maybe he's stuck in there or something." she shrugs as if it were the most banal piece of information.

you naturally frown at the answer and at her lack of interest as to where her friend might be, so does shoko as she flicks yuki's forehead – earning an annoyed grunt from her victim.

"you can talk about me, you don't even care about your friend."

"he's a dude girl, if he's staying up there there's a reason. i'm sure he's fine," she shrugs once again with round eyes devoid of any remorse.

as they continue to argue mindlessly you sneak your hand on the counter, gliding it across the surface to grab discreetly yuki's cup, probably much tastier with cranberry, and retrieve it back to walk away and leave them to their incessant vindictive promises.

you're sure when you come back they'll still be on their feet – at least you'd like to put this much faith in them – as you rush through agglutinated people to get past the stairs. you don't really know why you're going, maybe you could say he picked your interest ; the thought of a guy like him in the middle of the evening just reminds you of a lamb around a horde of wolves.

you take a couple more sips from your cup and climb the stairs, squeezing past a heated couple making out in the middle of it. you follow down the corridor to find a multitude of doors, and one at the end of it that would be the perfect prototype of the bathroom at the end of a corridor. once you reach it you lean in to rest your ear against the door, trying to gauge potential noises, but nothing.

you smooth your denim skirt down and readjust your purse on your shoulder. you knock once, then twice – over the music you're practically not able to hear your own knocking – until your press your fingers down on the locker slowly, peeking through the door but you're only welcomed with pitch black.

maybe he just got lost among people, or maybe he was one of the ones you saw vomiting their guts out outside – which is less probable, but not impossible. you don't really feel like acting like a detective and exploring every nook and cranny, for fear of also finding yourself in front of people fucking in one of the rooms, so you prefer to turn back on your heels, giving up on the mission you thought would spark up your evening a little bit.

but it doesn't really go as planned actually. as you walk back towards the stairs, you notice a door open ajar, as if to let in a trickle of air, so you don't pay it much attention, but it's only when you start to look away that you see the previously motionless shadow, move.

it's quite honest to think that it's the first effects of the alcohol that are starting to take effect, a blurry vision in addition to poor lighting – results are not promising. you pause in your steps once more, tightening your fingers around your cup as you tilt your head so that you can look through the doorway without acting too much like a voyeur.

that's when you see him. rather tall figure standing up with the major help of big boots, black trousers with a black shirt – or maybe the colors are tainted by the darkness of the room, barely lit up by an amber light. and you do notice the signature buns with a few strands falling on his forehead.

his movements are so ever delicate you're having a hard time to decipher if the stability of your vision is playing tricks on you, or if it's really the slowness of his movements. one of his hands reaches over the shelf, he grabs a book and opens it. so careless.

"didn't know you were also a creep." you open the door without warning, with your cup in a hand and it makes you think that you probably look like some drunken mess barging in a room.

he drops the book on the ground.

"fuck!" his panicked eyes dart to you, pretty purplish eyes, "i'm sorry— shit. i didn't mean to pry." he picks up the book from the ground, bending his knees to grab it softly.

"if anything, i was the one prying." you comment, entering the room. and.. oh? what a sight you're welcomed with. it's a crime to not have seen this man on campus before – or maybe that's his crime to decide to stay inside his room with such a pretty face. his eyebrows are still brought near the center of his forehead, a faint look of worry that doesn't seem to disperse as the seconds pass.

it's also shoko's crime not to have mentioned the few silver jewels adorning his lips and eyebrows, or the charcoal mark layered upon his nose and spread horizontally along the length, covering both cheeks. and maybe there's another crime to add to your list when his tired eyes look away from you, trying to find some sort of distraction, anywhere but on you.

"i wasn't doing anything, i swear." his voice is coated with the sweetest tones though it's deeper than you'd expected – such a contrast with his face.

"careful, there's no better way to appear guilty than with this sentence." and you swear you can see a light frown on his face. you take a couple more steps towards him, he stands still, the book still in his hand as it's closed and tightly wrapped around his fingers.

you reach for the book lazily, and you take good care to not try any brusque movements. it's like you're walking on thin ice and you just start to realize how quieter it got in the room, with the buzzing of music barely heard and a few people chanting way too far.

he doesn't even try to fight it, the book slips past his fingers easily as you grab it, "The Picture Of Dorian Gray". classic. he looks down at you silently, a bit too long as if he's realized something.

"are you planning to come down?"

he shoves his hands in his pockets, shifting part of his weight on one foot in a slightly awkward manner, "i don't really feel like it."

"why is that?" you put the book right in the empty space, where you guess it previously was, squished between the other books.

"i don't really enjoy.. this." he nods to the door.

"what do you enjoy then?"

he runs his tongue over his piercing, wetting his lips and smothering the silver ring with it in the process as he ponders, then locks eyes with you finally.

"not parties at least."

"mhm, i would've guessed."

the room was strangely not that big compared to the house, a very sober room that must have been for guests, at least no personal decorations were visible. you approached the window to watch the racket outside and you found yourself glad to be upstairs at the sight.

"yuki was getting worried though." you know it's not true, but you're trying your best, you really are.

he turns around to face you, still not moving an inch from his initial position though, "oh so you're one of yuki's friend? the one she said would come?"

"it depends on whether she talked about a little pain in the ass or a cheeky cynic."

"she used the term.. « bothersome minx », if i recall."

you chuckle softly and put your cup down on the windowsill, gliding it on the side as you turn to look at him. he eyes you up and down, tapping his fingers along his thighs and you're not sure if you are in good shape due to the previous consumption or if he's just being the analytical man he's known to be.

"what's your name?"

"choso."

"choso.." you introduce yourself as well, he repeats your name just the same, "wanna sneak out?"

"what do you mean? like right now?"

"yeah, why not? i mean you can stay in that room as long as you want but i doubt you'll have much fun." he turns his head to glance at the door lazily, gauging the proposal.

"what are we gonna do?"

"i don't know, we'll see." you shrug with a smile and you're not sure if playing the russian roulette with him is gonna get you anywhere but you're too interested to play it safe.

"hm, i want to be back for yuki though, she's gonna need a ride home."

"you will." you say simply, but choso raises his eyebrows, waiting for more based arguments rather than a simple affirmation. so you continue,

"we can just take the car, drive for a couple of minutes and you'll be back here before you even notice."

there's a few seconds of silence where you both look at each other, expecting an answer. he sighs, lowering his head and you think he's about to decline your invitation but..

"alright, but just for some time."

you can't help but grin widely, you eagerly dig in your purse for the car keys shoko gave you and take quick steps towards the exit. as you wait for him on the doorstep you see him take a few strides, but towards the windowsill where you previously were standing. he grabs the drink you left dismissively, his jacket on the bed, and throws your empty cup in the bin just in the corner of the room as he walks back towards you.

he smiles gently at you and closes the door behind the two of you.

you practically had to fight your way through the crowd waiting for you downstairs. you thought the hardest part would be getting through to the front door, but once outside you found yourself in a quandary as you had to tiptoe to avoid stepping on any garbage, sticky liquids or dead drunks on the lawn.

choso asked you if you were able to take the wheel, you told him yes, of course – you'd only had one drink that had barely shaken you. he insisted on driving anyway.

the place where you had him taken was one of the only ones not too far away that was still open at this hour; and especially one that didn't look like a crowded bar.

a small café-restaurant run by a woman who was far too old to still be on her feet serving until late at night – but she always did it with too much care that you always resigned yourself to going there, even if the prices were higher.

the car ride had been remotely silent, with only a few instructions as to the routes to take and choso asking you if you wanted to put the heat on.

you took your seats on the colorful banquettes, waiting for the woman to come and take your order. the contrast was quite ironic, seeing you and choso dressed for some fancy evening in a place that was very reminiscent of that kind of little retro restaurant in the 50s, with the famous jukebox playing ballads from Elvis Presley, and the endless greasy hot dogs displayed on the counter.

"didn't think you'd follow a stranger blindly,"

he rests his forearms on the table and bring his eyes back on you as they were occupied scanning the place, "you're no real stranger, you're yuki's friend after all."

"oh i'm sure you were the kinda kid to enter some random white van." you say, more to yourself though as you look at the menu briefly. he doesn't say anything in return, and you don't look up either to see if he's looking at you or not.

"tell me choso," his name is like the ring of a bell, his eyes widen just a little, "how come i've never seen you around? you're on campus right?"

"mhm, i guess," he opens his mouth as if to start a sentence but he soon renounces by closing it immediately, he reaches for his nape to massage it, "i guess i don't really hang out around campus."

"majoring in?"

"computer science."

you would have bet your entire fucking fortune on it. you let a smile slip through.

"um, you're friends with gojo satoru too, right?"

the question definitely surprises you, everyone knows who's satoru, and that's not to his advantage as he's more or so known for being one hell of a jerk. you nod and he takes a deep breath, one that speaks volumes.

"i know what he says about me, you know. i just don't want you to think i'm like that." he admits and the sight almost makes you frown, you don't know if it's pity or empathy but you shake the feeling away.

"what do you think he says about you?"

he pauses for a few seconds, he's quick to bring his hands around his ear piercing, fidgeting with them as he relaxes back against the banquette, he finally crosses his arms over his chest.

"they say things that aren't necessarily wrong but aren't totally true either."

when he says they, he's probably referring to shoko, or maybe suguru if you think about it, though he doesn't seem to care about people's business that much.

you'll blame choso's inability to communicate properly for his ambiguous answers and not because he's trying to pull a series of enigma right now.

"mhm, and don't you think i have a mind of my own?"

his eyes almost pop out of their sockets and he once again leans against the table, clearly not settled on how to sit still, "no–no i didn't mean to say that ! i'm sure you do," he says softly, yet still very much alarmed.

you almost regret your choice of words but he's so goddamn sweet it would be a shame not to tease him a little.

"i don't know i just, don't want you to think badly of me." his fingers fidgets with the salt and pepper shaker in front him.

you know you're in no position to talk, you even feel embarrassed if you're being honest, as you were not just about an hour ago making fun of him in the car with shoko – that, he doesn't know.

the old woman comes back to take both your orders and it's as if the bubble you were both in had just burst, bringing you back to the café as the music gradually came back to your senses. choso orders a strawberry milkshake and you take a blueberry.

the way he talks is so sweet, it makes you physically wince, and let's not talk about the way he looks at the old woman like she was cotton candy to the eye. you think it's all an act he's about to drop when she leaves but, even when she returns behind the counter he returns his eyes on you with the same look ; heavy lids – that you don't know if they are the consequence of a long day or if they're always like that – with shades or purple circling them.

"you'll know that the only time I take satoru's opinion into account is when I have to make a choice for lunch. you're okay." you assure.

he nods slowly and you see his face soften at your reassuring words.

"i don't know why you hang out with them." he says and it's so faint you're not even sure if he mumbled to himself or if he actually talked to you.

you tilt your head on the side with a frown, "what do you mean?"

he takes some time to answer, to gather his words or because he's hesitant you don't really know.

"you were always so nice to me," but you're still puzzled so he continues, "back in high school, you weren't hanging out with this kind of people, y'know."

you don't even pay attention to the way he's not so subtly trying to bring your friends down, you readjust yourself in your seat, visibly confused.

"i don't.. i mean, we were in the same class?"

choso shrugs, not really phased to see you don't remember him at all, "you had a lot of friends. plus, i didn't have these two." he points his finger up to show his hair attached in two buns atop of his head as if it could be the sole reason of your memory lapse. silly.

"i like this look on you. you look nice with them." you say as you look at the hairstyle thoroughly. the praise seemed to have gotten to him because you can see a small smile on his lips as he looks around impatiently for the drinks to arrive – or maybe he just needed to lay his eyes somewhere else than on you.

the drinks arrive shortly after, not surprising due to the lack of customers as it's practically just the two of you there. you don't really say anything much, comfortable in the silence you're both in as you grab your order to taste them. you don't really want to continue the conversation about your friends right now, and choso seems to have dropped the idea of it too.

choso watches you as you lean in to wrap the straw around your lips, elbows on the table to support your body on top. he also watches the way the milkshake climbs up the straw to pour into your mouth, away from prying eyes.

"you want some?"

his blurred eyes meet yours.

"huh?"

you smirk, only because you're enjoying the look on his face and you want it to worsen. you straighten up properly, away from that damn straw and focus on choso, who grows a little embarrassed, somehow – you see it, he backs down a little just at the sight.

"i know what you want," you say, almost above a whisper, stirring the straw with painful slowness.

"you just gotta ask."

choso doesn't say anything. he doesn't really know what to say actually as he flicks his eyes between your eyes and your lips. he's panicked, that's one thing anyone could notice if only they had their attention on him.

"you want a taste, right?" you say with such a languid voice he has to look around to see if you're putting on a show for anyone around, in vain of any spectators. choso raises his eyebrows, devoid of any answers.

"my drink, you idiot."

such a fool, his pouding heart slows back down quietly into his chest and it shows by the prior rapid breaths that are replaced by long and painful sighs. and what a disguised curse to be around you. he doesn't even seem to notice the degrading name he got assigned, you're not even sure he's got to hear the short sentence correctly.

"um.. yeah, sure."

you glide the drink forward on the table until it reaches his fingers which firmly wrap around the glass – and if you were from the police you'd suspect it's to hide his shaking fingers. he puts his own lips where yours once were and begins to sip through the straw. he doesn't have to look up to see you watching intently, he can feel it.

"there you go, how is it?"

"s'good." he nods.

the aroma melts on his tongue, almost sugarcoating the strawberry he previously ingested and the sour taste of a little humiliation.

"i wonder what's going on in that little head of yours. you're so analytical with everything."

"you make me feel like I have to be."

a head tilt from you is all he needs to know he has to develop his thoughts.

"be aware of my surroundings."

your answer gets stuck in the back of your throat when you hear the buzzing of your phone in your purse, you dig it out : a call from shoko.

you excuse yourself and choso simply nods, you bring the phone to your ears and you soon regret the movement as dissonant noises come to deafen your drums – urging you to pull your phone away from your ear.

"h-hey!! where.." the sentence is cut by another voice, and maybe some screams, you don't really know. you squint your eyes as you try to decode the semblance of sentences thrown at you, you call shoko but she doesn't seem to be on the line although the call indicates two minutes past.

choso continues to sip on his milkshake and he looks just as confused as you are.

"where r'you–" you don't need to ask her if she's drunk or not, you can hear it through the slurring of her words. you don't answer her question though, you know it will cause more damage than anything to say you'd preferred to leave the party to go sip on some milkshake with a man you're supposed to despise more than anything.

after five minutes of negotiation, you finally find out what shoko wanted - simple curiosity as to where you were, but also a call for help with the disappearance of choso, who was supposedly trapped in the toilet, according to yuki. you promptly hang up and finish your milkshake in a one go.

"she's in trouble?" choso gauges your reaction and imitates you, putting away his own things as he puts his jacket on.

"she's about to be if we don't come pick her up now." you place you purse back on your shoulder as you draw enough of cash to cover the bill and tip, "c'mon, let's go."

choso wasn't so wrong in the end, since you both arrived in time to prevent a tragedy from happening, one more on the list that shoko may not remember - despite the scale of it. you and choso agreed to take back your possessions – in this case yuki and shoko, who seemed to be standing on their own two feet only by some celestial force.

no need to to depict the end of the night, it was always the same when you went out with shoko. though something – or rather someone – during evening had told you it wasn't going to be the same ; that your tranquility was long gone, that you had now committed, whether you'd like it or not apparently, to be a fucking babysitter.

and he was fast with it, he didn't wait a week or so, he didn't even try to make it natural. the day after the party, choso went straight to talk to you, and the boy didn't even care if you were with your group of friends, the same that vehemently talked shit behind his back.

he didn't even try to wipe that smile off of his face, nor to calm the rosy tint on his cheeks that left little room for other interpretations. he didn't even try to cover for you when he gave you change for the milkshake you'd paid for – and God he didn't seem to understand that if you'd paid him it didn't mean you particularly wanted to give him the impression he owed you anything in return.

he also didn't notice that you didn't appreciate his refund, that you would have preferred to send him off, but that under the pressure from satoru and shoko, who were only viciously agreeable to him, you had to accept his exchange with a big smile.

you really didn't know whether his behavior was of the order of undisputed innocence or whether it was a means of publicly humiliating you.

in any case, the incident didn't go away, not with satoru and shoko around the corner, who were both just explaining the situation to suguru in the middle of lunch in the refectory.

"she left yuki and i alone with a bunch of freaks," shoko declares through the clattering sounds of the cantine while pointing her fork on you as she explains the evening, once again.

"you didn't seem to mind when i pulled you away from one that you were trying to dissect open with a knife." you insist, once again.

you stir the fuming food and distribute it homogeneously over your plate to let it cool down, ignoring shoko's words as she continues the story.

"it's kinda funny that you spent the evening with a guy who's a carbon copy of the type you say you hate." suguru intervenes and you sigh at the snarky remark. satoru keeps chewing on his food carelessly, clearly enjoying the roast you're subject to.

you shake your head at the statement, "spending an evening with someone and actually enjoying the time spent is different."

"mhm, clearly if i hadn't called you you'd still be making out with him right now.." shoko mocks and you swear you can see satoru's lips twitch in amusement.

"we just talked !" you half whisper, half scream, letting your food drop into your plate, causing your friends to shush you.

"c'mon just say you like him, we'll still be friends y'know?" you look deadpan at satoru, a look that doesn't require any words.

"i mean everyone knew he had a crush on you in high school, it wouldn't be surprising if it was still the case." suguru shrugs, you don't know if if he's being honest this time or if it's another joke. you choose to believe the latter.

you shake your head and look around the cantine to ease your mind from your shit friends, which doesn't seem to be the thing to do as satoru adds another weight to your already heavy shoulders.

"what? looking for your new pet? homeboy is probably hiddin' in his room right now. i mean, when doesn't he?"

you breathe out tensely, butchering your food with your cutlery as you clearly picture some detailed ways you'd like to treat the man in front of you.

"fucking assholes.."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

after what happened during the last couple of days you really tried taking measures. good measures. and it was kind of ironic how choso should've been the type to try and dodge any interaction with your friends, but now you were the one trying to sneak past him.

he was nice. you'll give him that.

but he was stupid. so fucking careless. and really naive because he surely did think an evening sipping on milkshake meant something along the lines of "will you marry me?"

anytime he spotted you in between classes he just had to walk in your direction. whether it was just small talk or not, he talked to you every. single. time.

but he was so nice. you couldn't just shove it in his face? could you? despite shoko's encouragement to drop him there's something that just.. didn't feel right. and may God forgive you, but you know this is certainly not the advent of your good morals.

though all of that clingy attitude really pissed you off, you did find yourself thinking about that evening and how Elvis Presley was so annoyingly being repeated in the background. how his eyes, despite their darkness and exhausted features, never ceased to display the most authentically pure emotions you've ever seen.

"i don't know i just, don't want you to think badly of me."

you sigh, heavily. some conflicted parts of you wanted to know more, an evening wasn't enough to just send him off right away, right? who was he? who does he claim to be? and the fact that you don't remember him, no, you can't remember him doesn't help either to your curiosity. because you did search through your yearbooks and to see his face didn't help you bring back lost memories.

shit maybe you just need someone to ring some senses to you but you also don't want shoko nor satoru to do it, as much as you hate to think about it they'll taint your vision more than they'll clear it out. in some ways choso was right ; their judgment might have their part to play in the way you think. in some ways only.

or maybe you're trying to blame your friends for your shitty behavior which only makes you feel ten times worse. you let out a grunt as you get up from your chair, going to the library to study with a clouded mind wasn't a good idea and even more at the end of the day.

failing to have a cigarette you can borrow from shoko right now, you choose to take a walk around campus. it's not the best sight but the air is far more fresh outside.

oh and how ironic was it when your feet led you upstairs to the dorms. it's not like you even planned your itinerary, it was like second nature to you, plus the air definitively felt a lot more breathable.

out of all the rumors you've heard, you knew at least one was true : choso was an orphan ; he stayed in the dorms right above the college structure.

and how absurd that was when you feet planted right outside his doorway – you can say thank you to the floor tenant files that didn't seem to care about the resident's personal information.

the thing missing though is your speech. you didn't have anything in mind. fuck what are you thinking? you're not even sure you'd want to see him at all, despite your evident location. before you could produce another stupid thought your fist met the door to knock twice.

it was about six seconds of wait that felt like half a minute as you just stood there outside. the door opened slightly ajar, and it reminded you of the first time – well not counting high school – that you saw him.

long strands of black hair dangled in front of the doorway before he stepped closer to fill the gap with his width. of course his eyes widened. they always do when they meet yours.

"oh, hey," he quickly looked over his shoulder, behind him and lowered his eyes to take a look at himself.

it was an agreeable sight, you will not deny. his hair were hanging loose at shoulder length, wearing only an oversized white t-shirt (was it oversized or just his actual stature ?) and gray sweatpants. you almost felt like diverting your eyes away as if you were prying on something you shouldn't see.

"hey."

silence.

"are you okay?" he stays still, swiping his tongue inside his lower lip while playing with his ring piercing you presume ; a habit of his you've noticed. you don’t really know if he's asking to be polite or if you genuinely look like you need help.

"mhm," you nod, "can i come in?"

"uhh, yeah" he takes another look behind him and you're starting to think maybe you came at the wrong time. "yeah, of course." he opens the door wider and steps aside, you enter and to your relief nothing crazy's going on.

the room is neatly organized to your surprise, not that you were imagining a slum, but you were expecting something more akin to the prototype of the homebody student. you avoid looking too much everywhere, you didn't come for that anyway.

choso retreats to his desk where he leans against it, his hands on the length of the edge to support his body.

"looks serious eh?" he escapes a small laugh, almost a scoff actually as he scratches his forearm and you suddenly want to leave the room because of how miserable you feel.

"we have to stop this.. thing here." you point to him then yourself.

you almost feel bad for him. almost, because of the way his hand previously on his other arm stops in the previous scratching motion, because of the way he only stares at you for a few solid seconds.

"what do you mean?"

"you know what i mean," you sigh "i don't even know why you suddenly want to talk to me anyway," you shake your head and look down. it's not even something you're blaming him for, you're really wondering why he'd want to talk to someone who plays on both sides with him.

"it's not.. that sudden. i've always wanted to talk to you." he tells you softly, "have i done something wrong?"

he's too nice with you it makes you audibly grunt.

"do you have a crush on me or something?"

silence again. a longer one this time. you didn't really mean to blurt it out like that, you'd envisioned something a little more subtle but frustration got the best of you.

his body shifts, his hands move closer to his body and he crosses his arms over his chest, tapping his biceps with his finger repeatedly. he stays silent.

"it's a yes or no question choso."

he pinches the bridge of his nose just where his mark is and breathes out a small "fuck".

"alright. it's ok if you don't wanna use your words, you certainly don't fail showing it to the whole fucking world anyway."

he takes a step forward rapidly, a single step but big enough to be closer to you nonetheless.

"i'm sorry, shit, i didn't know it would make you so upset. i'm sorry." he apologies. and you don't know if he realizes how upset he looks in the situation, he runs a hand through his hair in distress and you can see how agitated he is.

his face is right above yours, you don't really have to do anything but to look up to meet his panicked eyes. and it's a complete contrast how your eyebrows almost hurt from the frown while his face is contorted in worry.

and you'll blame your beating heart on your irritation and building up anger and definitely not because of his sole proximity. you try to commit to that thought at least.

"you're insufferable you know that?" you hug yourself as you readjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder.

he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek and looks away for a flitting second before bringing his eyes back on you, or your lips ; he's very indecisive poor boy doesn't know where to look when he has you this close to him.

"i.. i didn't know know how to tell you i'm sorry i just–"

"oh shut up,"

you practically throw yourself on him as it's the only way he'll eventually stop apologizing, one of your hands quickly wrap around his neck, to the base of his nape pulling him closer as your lips crash onto his. choso stumbles back at the contact and his hands reach instinctively on your waist for support, his body hits the desk where he stood prior and he escapes the faintest gasp at the harsh contact.

you wouldn't even have dreamed of doing this – fuck if shoko would come to know about this she'd probably laugh at you. but he's so gentle in his every moves, his every words, so naive about your motives it would be a damn shame if he knew what kind of crap person you really are. if the two of you really had to stop talking like you stated, your only wish would be to at least do this before.

choso's fingers grip more tightly on your waist, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your shirt practically playing with the hem of it. he pulls you closer and parts his lips to kiss you back avidly while your nails dig deeper around his nape at the feeling, before sliding them back along his jaw to orient his head at a better angle. you feel him exhale through his nose as you slow down your pace, slowly detaching your lips from his.

"y'taste good." he whispers against your lips, his forehead is practically touching yours and it's only now that you realize how much his features have changed within seconds. his eyes are blazed, breathless and fingers shaky around your waist. you'll blame the taste of your lips of the cherry gloss you're wearing – and he's wearing too now that his lips are shiny from it.

you're no better though, you swallow as you catch your breath, your heart is pounding in your chest so much you also hear it through the buzzing of your ears, coating the sounds around you.

"yeah? what is it, never kissed before?" you smile, you'll never get tired of teasing him, not when he always gives you the same look.

"not like that," he pants and smile back at you, a little smile that soon turns into a frown, "i.. shit, i wanna make you feel good. can i?" his voice is so low it makes your head spin.

"then do it," you kiss him once slowly and you feel him shudder at the new sensation, "make me feel good." you kiss him twice, even slower this time.

no need to say it twice for choso, if it's not you latching on him right now he definitely doesn't feel like backing down, he takes your answer for words and his hands find your cheeks instantly, cupping them as he puts a lot more pressure, making you step back. your hands lower down on his shoulders and your purse slip down your arm until it reaches the ground harshly ; not your priority number one right now.

he presses his body even closer to you and you don't need an explanatory drawing of what's happening down his pants as you feel his hard on pressed against you. you put your thigh forward, adding your own pressure against him and the moan that escapes his lips is enough to make your skin shiver and your panties tighter. much tighter.

still glued to each other, he guides you to his bed, just behind and it takes a couple steps back for your calves to hit the furniture, your body drops down the bed as you look up at him and you think he's about to slouch his own body on you, but he kneels down right before you instead.

you put your hands on the bed behind you to push yourself farther against the wall but to your – second – surprise he puts his hands flat on your knees.

"i need you right here," he soothes as he taps your knee lightly, making you stop in your movements. you don't know if he's about to do what you think he's about to do but your questions get quickly answered.

"can i?" he asks as he flicks his eyes onto your skirt, asking permission to touch it you guess. you nod eagerly and he leans back slightly to take your mary janes off instead, right foot, then to the left foot so ever carefully and putting them aside on the floor. you watch him and notice how steady and focused he looks despite his torso heaving up and down rapidly, you see it.

he straighten up on his knees and the sight has you gulping down, you're on his bed, he's on the ground just right in front of you, his eyes scan your face thoroughly you almost feel overwhelmed by it. your skirt gets pulled down easily, oh but so slowly, you prop yourself up on your elbows to make it easier for him.

"so pretty." he breathes out, he discards the piece of clothing on the floor and places both of his hands on your hips to bring your body closer to him as he easily glides you.

he leans in and his face is only inches away from your crotch, he glances at you before returning back on your clothed cunt. his thumb circles the hem of your panties as if he's admiring the sewing method and your breath hitches when his thumb drops a little lower, down where you clit hides beneath the fabrics.

"don't have all day, choso" you gulped, your hands bawl into tight fists in apprehension.

"okay–okay." he coos and immediately grant your wish ; he pulls your panties down and you're now bottom naked on his bed. it gives you a real reason to be embarrassed for sure because you didn't really "plan" on being that drenched from a single quick make out session. and the more he stares at your exposed cunt the more you grow impatient.

"choso.." you try to warn him but it comes out as a whine instead. he shifts as he gets closer to the edge of the bed, he wraps his hands under your legs to grab onto your thighs firmly.

"gonna make you feel good ok?"

"jus' do it–" you choke on your own words when you feel his tongue on you. a single lap and you're already panting in the room like a mad woman, "ffuck." you whine and your hand reaches immediately down to get a hold of something – his hair in this case which is being in his vision doesn't stop him nonetheless to complete his mission – as it's the only way you'd call it due to how devoted he looks between your legs.

he gives you a few more laps, down from your entrance to the very top on your clit, and he's diverse in his moves you'll give him that – he goes either way from the right side, then the left side, until he decides to flick his tongue against your pussy from side to side this time. you'd honestly thought the man would go down on you as his first time, his first experiment but it looks like you're the one experimenting for the first time his tongue skills – that, you don't miss to point out.

"shit- where the fuck did you learn to do that?" you pant, you push his hair back the best you can though it still falls atop of your pussy, giving you extra tingles on the way.

the sounds are purely gross, the room is nothing but a space for filth, hearing liquids collides whether it'd be his saliva on you or your slick on him. doesn't help from your restrained moans nor from his own whimpers that resonate lowly against your skin – it's almost as if he's being louder than you are.

he props your legs up onto his own shoulders when he leans down further into your pussy, getting better access while your thighs are in the air, tensing and quivering at each touch.

you start to seriously lose it when you feel pressure on your clit, getting even more stimulated your head starts to feel dizzy ; his thumb brushes against your folds to gather your juices before going up to your clit while his tongue starts to push down your entrance.

he mumbles something but you can't understand either from the pounding in your ears or because he factually has his mouth buried in your cunt.

"you feel so– fuck!" you almost cry out when he accelerates the pace on your clit "so fuckin' good shit," and before you get hold of the situation your muscles contract, your thighs wraps even tighter around choso and you're not really in the mindset to care if you're hurting him right now when you're nothing more than a trembling mess under him.

when you release the grip you have around his head with your legs, he slowly backs down and wipes under his chin with the back of his hand, breathing heavily as if he had just come flooding back from the water after a long dive. the sight has your brain rebooting from the start, simply short circuited.

"t'was okay?"

you almost feel indignation for his own self when you look at him in disbelief, "okay? thought i was losing my mind over there," you slowly sit up as you look at him with heavy lids. you probably look like you got run over.

"want me to get something to–"

he stops once he sees you getting your top over your shoulders, taking it off and throwing on the chair near his desk. you get closer to the edge of the bed, still sit up on it as you cage him between your legs since he's still kneeling on the ground.

"well.. i guess you have other plans..?" he murmurs under his breath, he doesn't even try to hide the fact he's staring, the man is practically glued to you like when kids stand too close to a tv.

"you're a perceptive one aren't you?" you leaned down to slip your fingers under his shirt, near his hips to take it off too, "unless you don't want to?" you whisper, stopping your movements to get his approval before starting anything but oh don't you dare take your hands off of him because he'll put them back on their original place.

"no–no, i do. i want you." his eyes meets yours and it's as if repentance was just knocking at your door and you don't know if you're willing to open the door because of how good he ate your pussy or because you really feel like you should do it.

"good."

you knew choso was introverted, a little shy even, the kind of men to be a little prudish even, the ones who'd rather stay indoors, the ones who's rather not get touched by anybody, even less when those places are under their clothes. you thought he was that kind of man when you'd first met him.

you got fooled. once when he mastered the technique of his tongue on you a few minutes ago that got your jaw dislocating in pleasure. but twice now that his shirt is past his torso, up to get through his head and you see yet another pair of silver jewelry. one on each of his nipples.

and your reaction is suited honestly, you just drop your arms and leave him struggling with the shirt on his own as his head is still tangled inside of it, you swear under your breath as you look at the two shiny buds. and maybe he did it as a distraction, getting two silvery eyes up his breast might be one hell of a surprise when you're trying to look at his whole torso ; but even in that case you wouldn't get why on earth you'd need to be distracted from his upper body, because what a fucking view.

once you see choso's head pop out of his t-shirt you're so turned on you're scared if you move you'll just leave the biggest pond of your slick on his covers ; you're feeling genuinely embarrassed to say the least.

"come here, get on your back." you tap on your left to show him the way on his own bed, he executes your demand without much more convincing. he lays down where his pillow rest, propping his head up a little as he still supports his body on his forearms, watching you.

which is not such a bad thing as it gets his whole upper body tensing up from the position, and you realize you got fooled thrice because of how defined his body is, muscles tracing his skin in the prettiest way.

you crawl closer to him and take his sweatpants off, throwing them along with the other remaining of clothes on the ground.

you straddle choso, only in his boxers now and he's always on the lookout for your next move, eyes traveling along every part of your body standing so close to him. you lean in to kiss him again, a simple kiss this time, not heated, nor passionate as you'd intended earlier, almost too intimate to your liking. you feel him relax under you, no, melt. he melts under your kiss, his back rests totally flat on his bed now and his hands travel along you jaw, touching you like porcelain if it were to break.

"it's only fair i return the favor, right?" you tell him as you lean near his ear, and if you chose to ignore the bulge in his underwear when you got him out off his pants you're certain you can't now. it's entirely poking through the fabrics to lean oh so perfectly against your entrance you have to fight back a moan just at the feeling. how embarrassing.

"fuck, please do." he moans, his hands get back on your hips slowly, pressing his fingers into your skin lightly. though you'd rather take some of your time, if you're in this might as well do it right.

you kiss your way down his body, from his lips, to his jaw, on his neck a few times — just because you love watching his adam's apple bobble up every time he gulps when you touch him — near his collarbones, on his torso and why not on the twins piercings he's got on it too.

at the contact of your tongue swirling around his nipples choso instantly throws his head back on his pillow, earning a deep breath from him along with a "fuckk" he couldn't bite back. at the same time your hips start to grind, slowly, cautiously, you wouldn't want to get off on his boxers now would you?

your hands reach down his boxers, under it to grab his dick but... maybe you got fooled fourth time. or maybe the saying is right, the quietest got the biggest and he's a living proof of the statement, you can attest. you break the contact on his sensitive buds and sit up correctly to look at it lay flat on his stomach, curved and strained in its own blood flow. you really have to close your mouth to not drool on it directly and you mumble something unintelligible.

his hands rest on your thighs, they try to guide you forward, they really do and you let them. you bring your hips forward, pussy gliding – as it's the only way it would be described, you're soaked – on his dick, just slipping through your wet folds, enough to mold him on the way forward, then all the way back when you return to your position. you let your hands fall on his abs, you're not even tired, you just need the support right now or else you're afraid you'll just collapse right onto him.

"God, you feel so good," you whine, grinding slowly along his cock and you honestly don't know how he's handling it down there 'cause it feels too fucking good for you.

"n-need you right now," he painfully gulps, he looks at the friction with a frown and he lowers his head back on the pillow, "shit..." he whimpers, such a wobbly voice yet he's not even inside of you thus far. you don't know who's winning the embarrassing contest but he might win over you if you keep giving him good pussy.

"so sweet. you're too fuckin' sweet y'know that?" you praise and choso's hands come directly to grab at your tits, cupping the roundness of them with both hands as he massages them slowly, pinching your nipple between his index and his thumb.

you're done with being patient actually as it is your cue to wrap your fingers around the head of his cock. you brush your thumb over his tip and his whole body jerks off from the touch, you slide your whole hand down the base of it as you pull yourself up on your knees.

you thought you'd reached the epitome of pleasure when he was between your legs just now, and you don't know what other seventh heaven you landed on when he entered you, but it was just as similar.

the head of his cock has just slipped through and you're already full of it, full of him. and you have no doubt when you look at choso that he's feeling it too. you both moan at the new feeling, a feeling you were too puerile to treat with such disdain when you looked at him, a feeling you'd never come to know if he didn't slightly hurt your ego with his kindness.

"holy shit, so fucking tight f'me.." he purrs through the whole process, his hands help you go down, steadily and slowly at your pace when more than half of his cock has sunk into you. your legs shake slightly when you've reached the end, you start to bounce up and down lazily, hearing every gushing sounds of both of your slick as they disperse through your organs.

he can't help it, you don't know if it's because you've teased him so much pior that he can't hold it in anymore, but the grip on your hips gets tighter, the bouncing up and down his cock gets messier, and even though your thighs start to feel numb you soon understand that choso has your back. his hips starts to buck back into you to meet your hips halfway, skin to skin as they collide rapidly.

"f–fuck, choso, you're gonna make m–"

"i know, i know." he soothes, you lean into him, chest to chest as you put your hands on his shoulders. and you can't help but be extremely grateful right now as you're practically laying down on him, he's fucking right into you with the help of his hands pressing down your hips as he moans in your ears softly.

"wanna make this pretty pussy mine– fuck. wanna make you mine." he whimpers and you can hear the way his throat tightens that he's close. you wouldn't wanna lie saying you're not – to be honest you've been wanting to come as soon as you hoped on his thighs.

you don't know if it's the heat of the moment, because you're taking his dick so fucking perfectly inside of you that the thought of being with him doesn't really repulse you that much, for it actually seems pleasant enough to imagine it.

"fuck–fuck-i'm gonna cum!"

and you sincerely hope nobody is in their dorms right now because you're sure the whole floor knows what their nerdy resident is doing to some resentful student on campus. he's so vocal you wouldn't have it any other way, specially when every each one of his moans reach your cunt before your ears.

you feel your legs tremble and your nails dig deeper into his skin when you reach your second orgasm, and not one for the weak ones as your pussy clenches so tightly you think you're sucking choso's dick whole with the suction. your hips get pulled up on spot when choso releases his own shot in between your bodies, his dick springing out from where it was caged. you still tremble on him when he breathes heavily, coming down to his high.

you both stay silent for a couple of seconds and reality hits you back.

"you're too good to me." he murmurs as he wipes some of the mascara under your eyes with his thumb, you head is still near the crook of his neck, you don't move.

oh only if he knew.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"can you believe nerdy boy got laid?"

you turn to shoko almost too rapidly, "what?"

"i know, who would do that.."

you don't say anything. you don't really wanna say anything for now, but you know shoko isn't saying that just to make the conversation when she waits for an answer. a valid one.

©nabitsun !

thank you for reading :D

[kryptznnn]

♛- Come back to bed

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➸ INTERESTS; -jjk! nanami kento x f!reader

➸ BACKGROUND; -not any plot truly, just straight smut, making love late at night MY FAV!! (im a whole virgin)

➸ WARNINGS; - wc.2.4k, kissing, teasing, riding, fingering, p in v, nipple play, sucking, whining, bla bla bla

➸a.i; - omg new oneshot!! i made a poll asking who i should write abt this morning and 100 votes came in for my sexy baby daddy so im here to feed u guys!! xoxo

.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖

You awoke in the middle of the night to your phone ringing softly, the vibrations from it on your nightstand making you get up. As you turned to grab your phone, the call ended, you only muttered to yourself as you were now sat up in your bed. You held your phone in your hand, realizing the call was from your close friend and checked the time.

1:13am, you read with a squint, still trying to adjust to the dimly lit screen this late at night.

There were only two reasons as to why she could call you this late. She was either having intrusive thoughts about breaking contact with her ex, or she was calling to tell you how drunk she was at her apartment, and she wants you to come and accompany her. You stood up, grabbing your soft silk robe from your closet door and stepped out of the room.

You made your way over to the kitchen, dialing her number back and waiting for her to answer. You grabbed a water bottle and opened it when she soon answered. Rambling on about how drunk she was and how much fun she was having, saying she didn't want you to miss out on it and for you to come over to her place, you only smiled and shook your head.

"It's past 1am, I was asleep when you called, you need to get some sleep too unless if you don't plan on clocking in later." You spoke, drinking from your bottle as you listened to her ramble, sadly it's as if she hadn't heard a single word you said.

She was always like this honestly; you couldn't blame her. Between the two of you someone had to be outgoing and crazy enough to do things like this. You could never be mad at her for it though, it was sweet honestly, even when she was intoxicated, she always had you in mind.

The conversation between the two of you soon wrapped up, as she assured you, she wasn't alone and was with her brother. She even facetimed you as proof and to which you spoke to her brother for a while. Thankfully he was a little more responsible than she was, assuring you that the night had ended, and the drinks were being put away so his sister could rest.

You only thanked him and wished him a goodnight, as he did in return to you and you said goodbye to your friend, waving as you heard the call click. You finished your water bottle and went to place the bottle in the shared recycle can you had in the kitchen before feeling two firm arms snake their way around your waist.

You only smiled, knowing exactly who it was as you were used to this multiple times before. You placed your hands over his arms and squeezed, earning a tired grunt from him as he bent down to kiss the top of your head.

"If you weren't my fiancé I would've screamed when you touched me y'know?" You joked, feeling him smile against the top of your head, he let go of your waist as you let go of his arms and he placed his hand in yours. He soon guided you out of the kitchen and back to the shared bedroom you two had, the dim lights from outside helping you to see his figure perfectly.

Your fiancé was a well-kept man, perfectly built as if sculpted by the gods. Honestly, even as a woman you were envious of his body, but when compared to others you were considered lucky, very lucky. So, you couldn't push it too much, because they were right, you were lucky.

"Come back to bed" Kento spoke, now entering your bedroom and sitting on your side of the bed where you were previously resting. You only smiled at him as you placed your phone back down on the nightstand, he never let go of your free hand, pulling you near him.

"You're such a flirt" you said to him, watching his every move. He only hummed in response and kissed your palm as you made your way on top of him, straddling him now. His other hand made its way to your lower back, now keeping you in place as his kisses traveled higher, from your palm to your arm and now your shoulder, not removing his eyes from yours.

You looked away nervously, feeling a familiar tingle in your lower belly, you knew exactly what he was doing. He soon placed his hand from your lower back onto the back of your neck, slowly bringing your head down to kiss him passionately. It felt nice, he felt nice, you couldn't complain, nor could you just turn or look away from him, you were captivated by him.

You were the first to pull away, your breathing heavy as you looked at him, he still kept his hand on the back of your head. He only pushed your head back for your lips to connect yet again, but not kissing the same as before. It was wet and sloppy, your tongues practically fighting-

no,

Dancing with one another, and it only made the weak feeling within your lower belly stronger as he moved his hands, now gripping both sides of your hips as he kissed you eagerly. You quickly pulled away, covering your mouth and wiping out of embarrassment as a small line of saliva dripped from it and down to your chin.

He only looked at you with a cheerful smile, loosening his grip on your hips and began to tug on your robe, wanting it to come off. In all seriousness, you weren't even properly dressed, without the robe you only had on a small black tank-top and red panties.

You let go of him for an instant, taking off your robe and tossing it, he smirked in approval. As you straddled him again you could feel him underneath you, the friction becoming unbearable as he continued to rub himself against one of your most vulnerable places. Well not him genuinely speaking, it was his co-

"Can I play with you baby? Just for a little while?" He asked, looking into your eyes and then your lips for an answer. You responded with a 'yes', soon after biting your bottom lip and watching his movements. Now seated in the middle of the bed you two shared he began to kiss your skin above your collarbone while you grinded on him, both of you partially clothed and breathing heavily.

He had gone to bed with nothing but his boxers on, but now he was threatening to take them off in one quick move, unable to bear the teasing anymore. His hands roamed your body, teasing your nipples through your top as you mewled softly, grabbing his wrist softly as you guided his hand lower to your now wet spot on your underwear.

Throughout the time of your twos dirty work not a word was spoken to one another, well, barely. You had known each other's bodies well enough and exactly what you craved, Kento knew this and quickly got to work, unbuttoning the one small button that was practically ready to burst out from his erection, letting it spring out free.

When you moved back a little to look at it, it looked like he was in pain. Like painfully hard, honestly this wasn't the first time, but it was sweet seeing how you had him this intense every time, he never seized to amaze you. He began to tug at your underwear, to which you got off the bed, standing up as he watched your every move.

You bent over, hooking your thumbs into the hems of your underwear where they sat nice and pretty on your hips, shimmying a little as you pulled them all the way down to your ankles and stepped out of them. You slowly made your way back onto the bed and on top of Nanami once again, who only looked at you in awe, and maybe hunger.

You only cupped your hands on both of his cheeks before kissing him again, this time he kept a hand on your hip as another one found its way to your core. He cupped it softly as you jolted slightly, feeling his middle finger brush against your clit. He smiled into the kiss, placing his thumb over your clit and rubbing it gently, feeling the vibrations of you grunting and moaning in his mouth.

You pulled away, keeping a hand over your mouth yet again and his own mouth as you felt him insert a finger inside you. Immediately pushing up into you as far as he could, watching as your shivered slightly, and removed your hand from his mouth, moaning into your hand. He soon removed his hand from your hip and grabbed your wrist, removing your hand from your mouth and kissed your palm yet again.

Within a short period of time, you felt an immense amount of pressure build up inside of you, making you immediately want to shut your legs. (Un)fortunately, your fiancé had already caught onto this, quick to hold one of your legs apart as he now quickened his pace, smirking at you.

He soon grabbed a hold on your tank-top after you promised to not close your legs, lifting and revealing your hardened nipples to him and the cold air of the room. He chuckled to himself slightly as he stuck his tongue out, teasing you and watching as your back arched before sucking on them and inserting another finger.

You quickly grabbed onto his shoulders, now riding his fingers as you were trying your best to reach your high and quickly, knowing he wouldn't let you cherish this bliss moment for long. He soon began to lick your upper torso, the sweat beads that rolled off your body were his to consume, as if your entire body was a drug he was high on.

It was as if you had jinxed it because just seconds before you were ready to cum, he quickly removed his fingers from within you, keeping his thumb on your clit and coming to a full stop in movement. Before you were even able to stop your moans and begin your whining and protests, he aligned his cock with your entrance.

Without warning or count he quickly thrusted himself inside, halting and burying himself within your chest as he moaned along with you, your nails now digging deeper into his shoulders. You had completely forgotten how vocal Kento was, damn near as vocal as you, and you loved every moment of it.

"No condom?" You gasped, now playing with his hair as he kept his head between year breasts, slowly moving inside you. He only shook his head slightly, bringing his head back up and looking you in the eyes and kissing you.

"You're to be my wife, no? Whatever my wife wants she gets." He only stated, now thrusting sloppily into you as you moaned. You attempted to bounce back on him while he thrusted into you, just for him to wrap both of his arms tightly around your bottom and thrust into you even harder.

Now repeating his earlier actions and sucking on your nipples, watching as you unraveled within his arms, only getting more turned on by the sight. His mouth now moved to your neck, giving you several hickeys and wet sloppy kisses.

As he quickened his pace you tapped his chest lightly, feeling the same blissful feeling as before coming back, your lower abdomen feeling as if it was floating while the rest of your body was hot and shaking. He only smiled, taking this as the most perfect time to tease you.

"M'gonna get you pregnant. It's what my wife wants, yeah? My baby is gonna grow right here..." He teased, placing his right hand on your belly and rubbing it as you mewled, nodding your head before you bent slightly, placing your head on his shoulder. Your high was approaching with great force and speed, barely able to contain it anymore.

"My beautiful girl is gonna be a mommy, are you excited baby? You excited that I get to fill you up?" He cooed, now rubbing your back with one hand and placing the other over your lower abdomen, pressing down slightly as your moans became louder. You hummed in response, nodding vigorously as your high had approached, exclaiming loudly, biting down on Kento's shoulder to control yourself as your body spasmed.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head for only a moment, soon after you came down, your breathing ragged. His thrusts had now slowed down, becoming sloppier than before as he began to breath heavier, his orgasm not far behind from yours.

As verbal as he was before he wasn't that way now, focused on reaching his orgasm as he screwed his eyes shut, taking deep breaths. As your head rested on his shoulder you too began to moan aloud and grunt softly, his thrusts overstimulating you as you had just come down from your orgasm.

You quickly began to clench around his cock, attempting to make him reach his high sooner, which worked. He buried his face alongside your side as he huffed, muttering a series of words, words of praise if you will, before completely reaching his orgasm. His last thrust sent shivers down your spine as he came inside of you, not leaving a single drop to waste, staying inside of you for a moment before pulling out and kissing your shoulder.

"Are you alright?" He asked, as you pulled away, looking at him and smiling, nodding to him as you brushed his hair away from his face, that had to stuck to his temple from his sweat. He smiled softly at you, seeing your tired expression and actions before fixing your side of the bed to sleep before joining you on his side.

You two exchanged little to barely any conversation between drifting off to sleep, his arms wrapped around you as you rested on his chest. You both had thought of the idea of cleaning up in the shower or changing into new clothes, but you were too exhausted to do so.

The last thing you can vividly remember before drifting off to sleep was how you were going to hide the love bites and hickeys he had given you before work the following morning. Scarves or giant sweaters weren't even in the question as it was the middle of the summer, and you sweat easily.

You'd find out when you got there.

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[hugmekenobi]

Forever

A Bad Batch Post S3 Oneshot

Gif by @barissoffee

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: Just when you think your fresh start can officially begin, the past still finds a way to haunt you

Warnings: No (Y/N), me adding one actual personal characteristic (sorry if you aren't arachnophobic), reader has hair long enough to hold, light PDA (kissing), mentions of scars, SMUT (shower sex with non-explicit descriptions of oral m&f receiving, handjob, fingering, making out, dirty talk,hints of praise kink), suggestive dialogue, reader wears a sundress, swearing, hints of Tech/Phee, just stick with me on the Lyra explanation please, mentions of food and drinks/alcohol, drink and general tampering for the sake of poisoning, me making up medical things, descriptions of illness (vomiting, fever, bodily pain), mentions of medical testing/needles and injections, concerned bad batch family, brief dark/protective Hunter, injury (cuts, blaster shots, broken nose/nosebleeds) and torture descriptions with further mentions of pain and blood, a certain lizard makes an unwelcomed appearance, big on the overall fluff and loving vibes but also big on angst and hurt/comfort, references to death and torture, near-character death, fluff and happy ending don't worry

<Previous Oneshot (not totally necessary to read but helpful for build up)

Masterlist for S1,S2 and S3

Word Count: 24.9K (don't look at me lol)

Rating: 18+

Author's note: This is a crazy ride jam-packed with fav tropes of mine, so I can only apologise for the emotional whiplash, but blame my dream because that is where this entire concept came from! Hope it was worth the wait!

The day of the party everyone had been eager awaiting had finally arrived. It was being done in your and the rest of the Batch’s honour and was serving as a combined official welcome to Pabu/congratulations on making it through everything alive type of thing but regardless of the slightly elaborate purpose, the island was all a buzz with excitement and preparations.

You and Hunter were meandering away from the busy colonnade. Your offer to help with the last of the party set up had been politely declined so instead the two of you had opted to join the others at the beach.

“Hey!”

You turned in surprise at the familiar voice and you saw the woman running off her ship and towards you. “Oh hey! What-” Your question was cut off with a huff of air as you were brought into a tight hug.

“Let me see-” Lyra stepped back from you and grabbed your hands excitedly but stopped short as she held them.

“See what?” You looked at her, utterly perplexed by her behaviour.

Hunter resisted the urge to clamp his hand over Lyra’s mouth but there’d be no believable way to explain that away, so he just had to stand there and cross his fingers that you didn’t pressure Lyra for further elaboration.

Lyra realised her mistake and backtracked quickly. “You. Let me see you. It’s been far too long.” She dropped your hands and just walked around you, analysing your form. “Yup, I still got it. Both of you are looking pretty sharp in my stuff if I do say so myself. So, I bet the rest of your lot do to.”

“Stop that.” You twisted your head around and waved her away with a fond yet bemused grin. “Why are you acting so weird? Better yet why are you here? Not that I’m not happy to see you.” You added hastily but you were a second too late.  

Lyra placed her hand over her heart in faux offence. “Wow, months with no word and then only sporadic comm channel conversations and this is how I’m greeted? I told you I would visit. Speaking of, I brought more samples of my work.” She gestured to the two cases by her feet. “Top one is yours, the second is to be divided between the rest of your crew. But to answer your question, I’m here for the party.”

You titled your head at her. Your last call had been before the party had been decided so you didn’t know how she knew about it. “The party? Who invited you?” You asked quizzically.

Lyra shot a nervous glance to the man at your side. She’d already almost blown it; she didn’t want to risk doing it again. “Uh, Hunter did actually.”

You glanced at Hunter curiously. “You did?”

Hunter maintained a sense of calm as he answered, “Well, technically it was through Echo, but I put them in contact. Also, a lot of people were asking about our clothes. Figured it couldn’t hurt to see if Shep needed someone like her here. Today felt like the perfect time.” That part was a genuine truth. He hadn’t thought much of the situation on Christophsis in the short time he’d been there- well, what he had thought wasn’t in any way positive-, and you’d always expressed interest in figuring out a way to get Lyra out of there and somewhere better. He was killing two birds with one stone here.  

“Yeah, a party and a job opportunity away from Imperial bullshit was too good to pass up.” Lyra confirmed with a grin.

You smiled broadly. “Oh okay! That’d be pretty great actually! So, Christophsis hasn’t improved since I left?”

“Just kept getting worse.” Lyra said plainly. “Got decent enough business to buy that condemned ship but it’s still pretty awful there. I definitely would not miss it.”

You shot her a sympathetic look before you clapped your hands together, “Well, I better go get Shep and officially introduce you two!” You wandered away to go find the man that was busying about the area making sure things were on schedule for tonight.

Hunter waited until you were out of earshot. He placed his hands on his hips and stared at Lyra. “That was subtle.” He deadpanned.

Lyra cringed. “I’m sorry! The transmission from Echo was pretty dodgy. I couldn’t quite hear him. I just heard ‘Hunter, party, Pabu’ so I though this party was to celebrate what had happened, not as a lead up to what’s going to happen.”

Hunter heaved a weary, stressed sigh. This was beginning to become the best yet somehow worst kept secret on Pabu. He was just grateful that the one person who he really didn’t want to know still appeared to have no idea. How that was possible, he really didn’t understand since it seemed to have spread from the need-to-know people to what felt like every citizen of the island, but he didn’t want to question it too much in case he jinxed it. Each time he passed someone by, and they shot him that knowing smile, he felt a flare of panic that you would notice and start to question him but so far, you just took it as standard practice from the naturally friendly disposition of the people here. He was almost there, he just needed everyone around him to keep it together. He straightened up and signalled to Lyra to act natural as you approached them once more.

“Lyra, this is Shep. The best mayor of Pabu and overall, pretty incredible man. Shep, this is my friend Lyra.”

“Nice to meet you.” Lyra stuck her hand out with a friendly grin and nodded to you. “She’s always spoken highly of you.”

“We’ve all grown very fond of her and the rest of the family.” Shep smiled and shook her hand in return. “It’s nice to officially meet you too! You’re joining us for our little shindig? And Hunter also tells me you’re looking to live and employ yourself here?”

“Yup! Can’t keep me from a good party. And yes, if you have the space for me, I’d love to talk to you about it more!” Lyra said cheerily. “Anything I can do to help with setting up in the meantime?”

“I’m sure there’s something. It always gets chaotic in the final stages.” Shep said, sweeping his arm in front of him to guide her in the direction he was going.

“Hang on, you said-” You started to argue.

“Go enjoy your day, we’ll see you later tonight!” Shep said dismissively.

“Your cases!” Hunter called after the fading figures.

“They’re yours!” Lyra tossed over her shoulder. “Although, I’d wait until you’re alone to open yours!” She said to you specifically.

You let out a small groan. Your mind immediately entered panic mode and started jumping between every experimental or bold combination of clothing that she felt the need to put you in. She’d been on point so far, but you knew there had to be a catch at some point.

“We can take a slight detour before heading to the beach, right? It’s only a couple minutes out the way.” Hunter double checked with you.

“Yeah def-” You didn’t even get a chance to finish your sentence or pick up a box before someone swept in and addressed Hunter.

“Don’t worry, Hunter. I’m heading past your house anyway to grab some supplies we need up here. I can drop them off. You guys can carry on with your day.”

“Thanks Kyan.” Hunter said as the fisherman picked up the boxes.

“Yes, thank you so much!” You echoed as he left. “Why is everyone being so nice?” You mused as you saw him head in the direction of your home. “We’re basically passing our house anyway; we could’ve done it.”

“They’re always nice here.” Hunter said nonchalantly, hoping you wouldn’t sense his nerves increasing. He snaked an arm around your waist and guided you down the winding path.

“I guess.” You mirrored his gesture as you strolled towards the beach. “This just feels different, like they all know something we don’t.”

“I wouldn’t think too much about it.” Hunter advised. Two more hours. Only two more hours to go before the secret would finally be out in the open.

--

You and Hunter stood on an outcrop of rocks just overlooking the sea and you called over to the group of people and dog sitting on the beach. “How was the swim?”

“Amazing! You really should go for one too. The water is so nice!” Omega encouraged as she lounged on a towel, letting the warm sun dry her off. Her and Batcher had been the only one to actually enter the water, the others had only decided to get their feet wet.

“I’m good. We don’t have long before the party and I’d rather-” You sensed the threat a second to late. With a yelp, you were shoved over the edge and entered the water with a splash.

You came to the surface to the sounds of laughter from the bystanders on the beach- even the dog was barking in a way that sounded like a laugh. You glared up at the clone staring down at you with a smug grin on his face. “You mother-”

“So… how’s the water?” Hunter taunted.

Two could play this game. “Yeah, it’s great actually, you’re really missing out.” With that, you raised your hand and with a tug of the Force, Hunter swiftly tumbled into the water too.

His aggrieved shout before he hit the water was music to your ears.

“Okay, I should’ve seen that coming.” Hunter admitted through a short series of coughs as he reappeared from below the depths.

Your plan of revenge had instantly backfired given just how perfect he looked right now. Your breath hitched as you saw the way his wet hair fell around his shoulders and framed his profile as well as the way droplets of water dripped down his face. He was a sight to behold. You reached up and stroked some of his damp fringe just behind his bandana. You’re beautiful.

Hunter gulped at the compliment. It had never been a word he’d apply to himself; he didn’t really view himself in that light, it was only ever you. Yet you said it to him with such sincere feeling, he knew you meant it.

You kissed him softly before you made to swim for shore, but you didn’t get very far.

In one short stroke, Hunter reached you and kissed you fiercely.

You tangled your fingers in his damp locks with a pleasure filled sigh as you matched his strokes.

Hunter could taste the salt on your lips, and he could feel the way your body pressed against him as you grew more eager, it only spurred him on further.

The few disgruntled and offended shouts as well as a ship flying overhead caused you both to hastily pull apart.

“It’s Echo!” Omega yelled happily, wriggling out of the protective hand Wrecker had placed over her eyes- it wasn’t like she had no idea what was going on. Not waiting on the rest of them, she and Batcher dashed back towards where his ship was going to land.

“Um, so-” Hunter began awkwardly. He used to be more careful about the public displays of affection, especially around his family, but it would appear that feeling free, relaxed and in love could be quite a distraction when it wanted to be.

Should everything go to plan, they were taking her anyway, but the confirmation felt necessary. “Yes, we’ll take her tonight.” Crosshair said, shaking his head in the direction of the two of you but a smile was on his face.

“Ha! The gang’s all back!” Wrecker cheered, slapping Tech’s shoulder as he, Tech and Crosshair followed the young girl. “I can’t wait for this thing to get started!”

“Yes, this party should be quite the reunion.” Tech remarked simply as he walked and finished making the finishing touches to the repairs to his goggles.

“Echo’s taking a break from the clone rebellion for a party?” You furrowed your brow as you reached the sand and half-heartedly wrung out the edges of your top.

Hunter shrugged as he wiped some water off his face. The fact that his brother was indeed making an appearance meant a lot, but he couldn’t very well act like that in front of you. “It’s supposed to be quite the party.”

You huffed out a laugh. “Right.”

“Plus, he was right there with us, so it be a shame if he didn’t make an appearance.”

You inclined your head in acceptance of that. You then took proper notice of the way his soaked clothes clung to his toned body, emphasising very muscle. Despite the chill of the water, your blood ran hot as intense longing overcame you. You turned away from him and attempted to regain control of yourself.

Hunter noticed the way you swiftly stopped looking at him and he knew you were fighting to regain control the same way he was but, quite frankly, he didn’t want to. He came up behind you and draped his arms around your front.

You exhaled happily and leaned back against him.

“How about a shower?” He crooned in your ear as he brushed his lips just behind your ear.

You nodded dumbly as he gently nipped at your earlobe. Control was overrated.

--

You let out a squeal as the door you were pressed up against opened suddenly and you stumbled backwards- if it weren’t for the strong hands gripping your hips, you would’ve fallen straight down. Your kisses with Hunter were a passionate and frenzied mess of tongue and teeth as he backed you down the hallway, muscle memory guiding the way since neither of you wanted to pull apart, not even to catch your breath.

A trail of wet clothes marked the way through to the refresher.

A gasp left your mouth as the first cold spray of water hit you, a gasp that Hunter took full advantage off as he kissed you deeply, swallowing your groans of pleasure.

The water soon turned warm, but goosebumps still graced your skin as you were pushed up against the cool wall tiles. You leaned your head back as Hunter removed his lips from yours and began biting and kissing along your neck. “W-wait.” You managed to say breathlessly. He had always been the one to cater to your needs and you wanted nothing more than to be the one to do that for him first. He so rarely put himself first both in everyday life and in this particular regard and it was something you wanted to change.

Hunter immediately stopped and braced his hands on either side of your head, his breathing heavy as he waited until you were comfortable to carry on. Or not.

You nearly lost it at the sight of the man in front of you. Beautiful had been an understatement. He looked positively ethereal as his hair was wet and loose around his shoulders, the pieces of fringe at the front just demanding your touch. Water cascaded down his toned back and his usual caring brown eyes were nearly black with lust yet there was a slight crinkle in his brow to indicate that he was happy to wait until he knew you were okay with proceeding which only added to your desire. You inhaled deeply and pressed a seductive kiss to his mouth before you trailed your lips down his neck, kissing the hollow of his throat. You then gently pushed him away from you in order to change positions, so that he was the one against the tiles now.

Hunter looked at you questioningly but any words he was about to speak became a hoarse groan as he felt you reach down and wrap your hand around him. He tipped his head back against the tiles as you moved your hand.

You ignored the feeling of the water on your back and fixed your focus entirely on him as you kept your touches teasing, relishing each groan that left his throat. Look at me.

Hunter was all too willing to follow your instructions, but he saw you getting ready to kneel and he caught your elbow. He swallowed harshly as he rasped through the haze of pleasure you were granting him, “Y-you don’t have to. L- let me-”

You shook your head to silence his protests and paused what you were currently doing. You pressed soft, doting kisses up his thighs, before making your way up his ribs and affectionately kissing the jagged scar left by the wild reeks all those years ago and then you carried on downwards once more as you formed a path of kisses to his abdomen before you moved lower still.

“You’re always the one to give. I want you to take.” You encouraged as you licked a slow, sensual stripe along the length of him.

Hunter’s head fell back against the shower wall and a choked moan left his throat.

You stopped and tutted. You rose to your full height and grabbed the back of his neck, so he was forced to look at you once more. You needed him to watch so he knew just how much you wanted to do this for him. Keep your eyes on me. Do you think you can manage that?

Hunter just about managed to nod. He was utterly enraptured by the sight of you. Your eyes were bright and laced with longing, your heavy breaths came from lips already swollen from the kisses you’d shared and there was an overall desire that radiated from you that he was completely captivated by.  

You smirked and kissed him deeply. Good boy.

“Fuck.” Hunter breathed as he watched you go to your knees once more but even as you nodded up at him, he still found himself not wanting to take full advantage of the situation. He sought purchase against the shower walls as he fought with the primal urge within him to do what you were asking of him.

This particular scenario that you were invoking was new territory for him- you knew he would still be hesitant- so you began with that you knew would make him lose his mind and remove all doubt from his brain. You needed him to stop overthinking it and to stop being concerned with your pleasure needs for the moment.

You needed him only thinking about himself and the pleasure he wanted from you.

With his eyes still looking at you, Hunter’s hands slipped against the slick tiles as he fought against the impulse to tangle his fingers in your wet hair as each frustratingly slow and light touch had him losing his mind. Your name left his mouth in a cracked whisper as he pleaded, “P-please.”

Please what? You replied innocently. You looked up at him as you carried on, keeping your pace slow and your ministrations featherlight.

The alluring glint in your eyes had him swallowing hard as he searched for his voice. “I need- fuck- I need more…” He made a move to drop one of his hands but stopped. “Sweetheart, I-”  

You only need to take. You reminded as you placed light kisses along him.

At your words and as the instinctual need for release finally took over, Hunter found himself fisting your hair and guiding your mouth down the length of him.

You groaned appreciatively at the action.

Hunter released a choked gasp as the vibrations from your throat only added to the sensation that he was getting utterly lost in. And he was continuing to follow your instructions and he could understand why you’d laid them out. Watching your eyes flutter shut in pleasure as you accepted him made him close to finishing right then and there and he had gain control quickly or this would be over too soon.

You were compliant to his every move, making sure every response you gave him was what he wanted. His own moans and the broken praise emitting from his lips for you as he grew more and more caught up in finding gratification drove you on as he claimed your throat in the way you had been waiting for him to do.

His gruff sighs made your own simmering arousal burn red hot in your veins.

This was exactly what you wanted.

You wanted him incoherent.

You wanted him to let go.

You wanted him to focus on himself.

The release Hunter was chasing arrived faster than he’d anticipated but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from you. you felt too good. The best he could do was attempt a hoarse, stammered warning, “I’m gonna- oh fuck-” He kept looking at you and a new longing took a hold of him, the one he had before this began. “I want to taste y– I need to tou- fuck you’re doing so well-” But he still couldn’t stop despite him meaning the words he was blabbering. “I’m- wait-”

You already knew he was nearing his climax by the way his hips stuttered but you didn’t want him to hold back. You clasped his free hand in encouragement and kept yourself right where you were. It’s okay, I want it.

That was all he needed. With a loud and hoarse shout, Hunter reached that sweet moment of ecstasy.

You stayed strong, only stopping when he demandingly pulled you to your feet and before you could even process what had happened, your back was to the shower wall once more, Hunter’s body pressed tight up against yours as his lips crashed into yours.

Hunter could taste the remnants of his release on your tongue, and it prompted him to hold the hinge of your jaw to tip your head back as he licked into your mouth. A deep growl sounding from him as he did so.

You welcomed his kiss and matched his intensity as you pawed at his muscled back as if you could somehow remove every inch of offensive space between you.

Hunter finally pulled away for air, but he raised your arms above your head and pressed your wrists into the wall.

It was hard to imagine that not 30 seconds ago, you had reduced this man to a tongue-tied, purely desire driven mess. Yet now the positions had rapidly switched.

Hunter licked the water away from your neck, smiling against your skin as he felt your pulse quicken at the action. He kept one hand entrapping your wrists, but he slowly brought his other hand down, his fingertips steadily descending down your arm. “Do you know why I so rarely let you do that for me?”

You shook your head; you didn’t trust that actual words would exit your lips. Goosebumps graced your body at his touch.

“Because as talented as you are at that and as grateful as I am for you allowing me to do that…” He nuzzled his nose against the side of yours before he kissed the corner of your mouth, pulling away ever so slightly as you turned your head to kiss him properly.

The roguish, teasing grin on his face made your breath catch in your throat. Your desire grew more intense as his already low, smoky voice somehow went an octave lower and his seductive words sounded more like a deep growl as he spoke to you, and it made you weak at the knees. Your chest heaved as each yearning breath left your lungs as you watched him.

He caressed your cheek. “There’s something else that also brings me that much pleasure…” He kissed along your jaw before he carried on with his plan.

You could only observe him, the sight of his lust-fuelled gaze and the way he was suddenly so in control made your want for him burn that much hotter.

Hunter then rested his hand just at the hollow of your throat, feeling a shuddering breath leave you as you swallowed, he glanced up at your face which was watching him with both heightened curiosity and desperation as you waited for him to touch you were he knew you needed him to.

He trailed his fingers sensually down the rest of your torso before moving them tenderly up the inside of your thighs, a hint of delight flowing through him as he already felt how ready you were for him already and it was all from what had just transpired– he was yet to do anything. “Because when I touch you here…” He murmured as he ever so slightly rubbed that sensitive spot between your legs, delighting in the gasp that sounded from your lips. “I can watch you fall apart…”

A whimper sounded from your throat.

“And when I kiss you here…” He stopped his movements for the most part, instead just tenderly rubbing faint circles with his thumb as he mouthed his way down your body.

Your breathing was leaving you in short, sharp pants.

“I can watch you fall apart on my tongue.” With that, he lifted your leg onto his shoulder before his mouth joined where his fingers were. An eager moan came from his own lips as he finally got to taste you and for the moment, he wanted to savour this. You were a craving- an addiction- that he couldn’t get enough of. He was in no rush, and he draw this out for as long as you both could handle it.

His name fell from your lips through a raspy groan. He knew your body so damn well and that was both a blessing and a curse. He was barely giving you enough to gain any form of satisfaction but yet it was just enough to drive you crazy with need. You scrambled for a grip on the slippery tiles as desperate cries sounded from you. One hand fumbled against the small shelf as a particularly wicked curl of his fingers made a jolt of pleasure rush through you and various shower supplies came tumbling down with an unnecessarily loud crash but neither of you paid them any attention, instead you merely clamped that hand over your mouth to quiet yourself.

“You know I want to hear you, sweetheart.” Hunter crooned as he stopped what he was doing. The demand needed to be met before he would continue.

You nodded, through a pleasure induced daze as you removed your hand. You had to keep reminding yourself that you had a place of your own now and you could be as free as you wanted to be, there was no risk of being overheard or interrupted but it was a habit that was still proving difficult to break.

As he finally showed willing to bring you closer to the point of release, your mewls of pleasure left you without restraint.

Hunter hummed out his approval as he put his mouth back on you and began moving his fingers once more, and this time, he wasn’t drawing anything out.

He wanted to watch you come.

He angled his eyes up as he found that spot that he knew would have you finding your release in no time. He let out his own appreciative sigh as he saw the way your eyes flickered shut, as he saw the way your brow furrowed, and your lips parted in sweet relief as those special breathy sighs exited from them, signally that you were close.  

You arched your back as you went tumbling towards that blissful climax and you finished with a strangled groan, your hands tangling in Hunter’s soaked hair to ground yourself as he worked you through it.

Hunter made sure you were back to being steady on your feet before he prompted you to face the wall so he could press loving, accepting kisses to the scars on your back. “I love you... so much.” He nearly found himself following that up with the question, but he stopped himself. Too much had been planned and he knew exactly how he wanted to do it. He wasn’t about to ruin it with getting too caught up in this wonderful moment.

“I love you too.” You replied softly.

Hunter placed one last kiss between your shoulder blades before he gathered up the fallen shower products that had scattered around his feet.

You braced your forehead on the cool tiles to gather yourself once more. For a moment the only sounds were the steady of jets of shower water and Hunter placing the items back on their shelf,

“Okay… so… now we need to do the actual showering part.” You said breathlessly as you finally turned around and brushed back his fringe pieces.

Hunter chuckled and nodded his agreement. “We have a party to get to after all.”

--

“Hey, I have a question.” You asked casually as you appreciatively watched Hunter get dressed. You had made no such moves yet and were instead lounging on your bed still in your bathrobe.

“What’s that?” Hunter asked as he finished buttoning his shirt.

“How important is it that we attend this party?”

A wave of panic hit him, and he had to rely on old training to keep his voice steady. “Is everything okay?” Even with his fast-acting composure, he could tell his voice was strained but if you noticed, you didn’t call on it since you carried on as normal in your response.

“Well, no. After that display in the shower, I find myself not quite wanting to be so social.”

Hunter held back his sigh of relief. This was something he could handle just fine. It wasn’t your fault that you were looking to cause a bit of trouble, he was just glad that there wasn’t a more serious reason to your original question because that would make the rest of this evening rather tricky. “Given the fact that they’re having it in our honour, I’d say it’s pretty important that we go.”

You shuffled to the end of the bed and sat up. You caught his hand as he walked by you. “But there are five other honouree people that are going…”

“Sweetheart…” He really had to figure out how to navigate this without giving anything away.

“Now let’s see…” You feigned pondering as you went through the options in your head and rubbed your thumb along his hand. “We’ve already done the bed, the shower, the table, the couch and the counter…”

Hunter’s attempt at swallowing was interrupted as various memories flashed through his head, some highlights being your thighs wrapped around his head, you straddling his lap and his handprints imprinting on the glass of the kitchen cabinets. It was true that he had been rather insatiable lately and you had been all too willing and happy to match his enthusiasm but now was the time for self-control. He released a choked cough as he attempted to steady himself.

“But I don’t believe we’ve done a wall yet...” You said coyly as you started to pull down the arm of your bathrobe to expose more of your clavicle. You also spread your legs a little wider, so the fabric hitched up your thighs as you nodded to the dresser behind him. “Or the bureau…”

Hunter released a guttural, unrestrained groan before he kissed you. Hard. But just as you threaded your fingers in his hair and made to pull him on top of you, he found himself once more. He had to act now, or he’d never want to leave here. He stepped away and stopped your hand that was continuing to lower the shoulder of your robe, but he couldn’t help but notice the few remaining water droplets on your neck that were calling to be kissed away.  

“Hunter…” You pretended to pout as you gently yanked on the loose ends of his shirt, so he was forced to come and stand between your legs.

Hunter pushed down on your shoulders and your arms above your head. “Go.” A chaste kiss to your lips. “Get.” Another quick kiss. “Dressed.” He placed one final brief kiss to your mouth before he readjusted the shoulder of your dressing gown.

“The robe has to come off to do that though.” You whispered as you placed a tender kiss to his mouth.

Hunter huffed out a laugh as he stood tall once more. He quickly walked out the room before you had the chance to accidentally ruin everything he had put together. “Don’t take too long!” He called back to you.

You released a heavy, grounding sigh before you sat up and hopped off the bed and your eyes caught sight of the case. With apprehensive curiosity, you strolled over to the new package that Lyra had gifted you, bracing yourself for what was going to be revealed.

You unclasped the lock, but you were pleasantly surprised by what was inside. It was a variety of sundresses, each one a similar design but in a variety of colours. They were a new thing for you to try but you figured a party could call for doing something different, plus you couldn’t wait to see Hunter’s reaction to something like this.

You picked out a red dress and was unsurprised to see that it fit you just right. You had a rummage through the rest of the box to see if there was anything else or if it was just those dresses, but you regretted that immediately.

A horrified, strangled breath left you as you saw the three sets of lace lingerie. A red, a black and a white set were all folded neatly at the bottom of the box. You held up the red set and recognised the design immediately. You muttered a series of curse words to yourself before your eyes caught sight of a small black silk bag and the items in there left you frozen in shock. This was something you would have to keep well hidden. You slammed the lid shut and shoved it to the back of the shared closest.

--

You quietly walked down the short hallway towards the front room which served as an open planned area with a kitchen and living space. You leaned against the wall and a smile graced your face as you watched the domestic scene with fond affection- Hunter had just finished gathering and hanging up your sodden beach clothes and was proceeding to put away some dry dishes. It made your heart soar that he had settled into the domesticity of the island and the routine here so well, it made making a life with him here all the more appealing.

As much as you enjoyed watching him, and as much as you would enjoy just staying in, you knew he wanted to go to the party, and you knew you would have a good time once you were there. You just wanted a little bit more fun first. “Zip me up?”

Hunter half-turned from where he was putting away a plate, but he forgot how to both breathe and operate as a functioning human as he saw you. The dish slipped out of his hands and smashed against the ground.

You smirked. That had gone even better than you’d expected. “Hmm, that’s an interesting technique. Sure, it saves space but I’m not sure how sustainable it is in the long run.”

Hunter struggled to find his voice. He bent down to gather the broken pieces and throw them away to try to buy himself some recovery time, but it didn’t help. All he could do was stare at you. The red sundress you were wearing complimented you perfectly and it showed off your body to the best degree. You were, to put it mildly, simply stunning and suddenly, his entire operation for this evening didn’t seem that important anymore.

You whistled and waved your hand in an attempt to bring his attention back. “Hey, Hunter, my zip?” With that, you turned around and waited.

Hunter wasn’t sure how he willed his feet to move but he soon found himself behind you.

His knuckles grazed your skin as he slowly brought the zip up your body and attached the small clasp at the top. His jaw was clenched tight as he caught a whiff of the body wash and lotion you had used, and it was getting harder and harder to find the willpower to step away from you. He had a plan. He’d had this plan for weeks yet one look at you in this dress and he was seriously considering throwing it all out the window and to hell with the consequences of it. “You look beautiful.” He said through a deep exhale. Just one more hour. He only had to make it one more hour.

“Thank you.” You said quietly as you too worked on calming yourself.

You turned to face him. “You look pretty good too.” You complimented as you gave him an appraising look up and down– in your attempts to distract him, you’d failed to properly take him in before. He wasn’t quite wearing a suit- it would be too hot for that tonight- but the lightweight formal black button-down shirt and matching black bottoms fit his frame handsomely, and to make himself even more appealing, he had rolled the sleeves up to his forearms. “New one of Lyra’s?” You guessed as you smoothed down the front of your dress.

Hunter nodded. He didn’t offer too much detail because much of what was in his box consisted of proper suits for him and his brothers that he hoped would be useful in the near future.

“Gotta hand it to her, she knows what she’d doing.” You mused before you loosened your shoulders and linked your arm through Hunter’s elbow. “Come on, we’ve got a celebration to get to.”

--

Night had fallen but the area on the colonnade was all lit up by the warm orange glow of a vast number of lanterns. The party was in full swing. Food and drinks were already flowing, and the music was getting many people up and dancing.

A playful wolf-whistle greeted you and Hunter as the two of you entered the scene.

“Damn, I am too good. What a fine-looking couple you two are.”

Evidently, by the cheery and slightly lopsided way Lyra walked over to you, she had been hitting the punch pretty hard already.

“Having a good time?” You asked with a laugh.

“Very! This party is fantastic! Everyone here is so nice! And I got the job!!”

“Lyra, that’s awesome!” You hugged her tightly.

“Congrats.” Hunter offered mildly but sincerely.

“So, better get used to having me around. And that’s just as well cause you’ll need me to des-” She quickly cut herself off. It would appear that alcohol only aided the inability to keep a secret.

“Want a drink?” Hunter asked you swiftly before you could follow up on her comment.

You nodded. “I just gotta talk to Lyra about something.”

Hunter couldn’t very well insist you join him, but he only hoped what you needed to talk about wasn’t close to what would hopefully unfold tonight. He squeezed your hand before he hastily walked towards the drinks stand.

You faced Lyra once more after he was a suitable distance away. “Now, I’m happy for you but also rather irritated with you.”

“Why?” Lyra asked innocently as she brought the cup to her lips to hide her grin.

You didn’t believe her lack of awareness for an instant. “You put those in that case? What were you thinking?” You hissed.

“Why not? You were willing to before everything went to shit. I remembered the design and everything! And you have more options now!”

You shook your head. “I was feeling brave back then, that feeling has since passed.”

Lyra scoffed, “Please, with the way the two of you are, I’m surprised you haven’t done something like that already.”

“You’ve got a retired clone sergeant and a retired ex-Jedi living on a tropical island, things aren’t exactly crazy around here. I’ve lost my bold and brave streak.” You didn’t think she needed to know what had had gone on in the shower and the times before her arrival because that would only aid her argument if you were being perfectly honest.

Lyra merely rolled her eyes. “It’s not a battlefield. It’s a totally great way to switch things up, especially now that you’re in a secure living situation and you would both feel and looking fucking sexy. Plus, I bet you he would drop to his knees and do whatever you wanted if he saw you in one.”

“I will never- hey.” You relaxed quickly and cleared your throat as Hunter rejoined you.

“Did I interrupt something?” Hunter asked with a glance between the two of you as he passed you your drink.

Lyra angled herself towards him. “Hunter, let me ask you a question. If she had certain-”

“You interrupted nothing.” You interjected sharply.

“Um okay.” Hunter didn’t press the matter of whatever it was the two of you were debating. “Come on, the others are over there.” He pointed to where the bulk of the dancing and partying was taking place.

“Just think about it!” Lyra implored.

You glared at her as Hunter led you away.  

Lyra simply grinned and raised her glass in your direction. “Enjoy the party!”

--

The time was drawing near, and Hunter was just confirming with Shep that everything was set for when he got back when Hunter noticed you and Crosshair sitting and chatting, but you were also swaying to the beat of the music. He bade Shep farewell before he approached you.

--

The party was still going full swing and after you had the chance to catch up with Echo, you and Crosshair had retired to a seat on the side to people watch. The two of you sat in comfortable silence as you casually observed the goings on around you. There was a healthy split between the people by the food and drink area and on the dancefloor. Wrecker was enthusiastically dancing with Omega and Lyana and Phee, Tech and Echo were engaged in a pleasant conversation a few metres away and Hunter was chatting to Shep by the bar.

“So, you’re really sure about him?” Crosshair asked, breaking the silence first.

You frowned in utter confusion as you angled your head to face him. “What kind of a question is that?”

Crosshair shrugged. “Just checking.”

“You’re leaving that a bit late down the road are you not?” You were baffled by his sudden interest in the status of your relationship.

“Well, I haven’t been here for all of it. Trust me, I’m for grateful for that than I’m not. You two can be pretty sickening.” He added cheekily.

You rolled your eyes at his true Crosshair mannerisms. “So, is this your bizarre way of being a protective brother?”

“I’m looking out for both of you. He has some pretty annoying habits you know. I’d hate for you to be stuck with him before you fully knew what you were getting into.”

You snorted. “I’m all good, thanks Crosshair.”

Crosshair waited a beat of silence before his voice turned more serious. “Just don’t hurt him, alright? He’s been hurt enough already, we all have, the cycle has to end at some point.”

Your gaze softened. “I won’t ever hurt him.” You squeezed his left hand in reassurance before the two of you went back to relaxed quiet and you saw Hunter making his way towards you.  

The music turned slow and that caused a brief dispersal of the dance floor, which included Wrecker, Lyana and Omega to depart.  

--

Hunter reached you and held out his hand in invitation. “Come on.”

You looked at his extended hand, then at his face to see that he was totally serious. “Since when can you dance?” You asked, completely taken aback.

Hunter, nodded to Crosshair. “Back when we were first getting success as a squad, we thought it would be a way to impress anyone that came into 79s when we had leave from the war.”

You directed your question to both of them. “Did it work?”

Crosshair smirked as he said, “It worked for one of us.”

You laughed as you glanced to Hunter and said with a teasing lilt to your voice, “If you’re that bad at it, I don’t know if I want to.”

Hunter sighed. “Hey, I wasn’t bad, I had options, I just had a bad habit of failing to follow through.”

Crosshair continued to goad him. “Is that how you’re remembering it?”

Hunter’s voice went more defensive than he would’ve liked as he addressed his brother. “What about that red head who kept coming to our table the night we were celebrating the win at Boz Pity. She kept talking to me, remember that?”

“I remember who she left with.” Crosshair replied smugly.

You, having enjoyed watching their brotherly spat, took Hunter’s hand to stop the dispute going any further. “I will say, dance lessons were not really on the teaching agenda for Jedi, especially during the war, I don’t know-”

Hunter pulled you to your feet. “I promise to not let you trip.”

You reluctantly complied. “And if I stand on your toes?”

Hunter just led you to where the other people were dancing. “I won’t even react. And it’s slow music, I doubt you could inflict much damage.”

“You underestimate me.” You mumbled nervously.

--

“You’re too tense.” Hunter observed as he watched the way your eyes were fixed firmly on the ground.

“This is how your feet will continue to have feeling.” You grunted as you kept an intense focus on your movements. Even though the two of you were mostly slowly moving in beat to the soft music, your grip on his hand was tight and the one on his shoulder was digging into him.

Hunter released a low chuckle. “Here. Try this.” He adjusted the stance, so your arms were around the back of his neck and his coiled around your waist, so the front of your body was close to his. Now, the two of you pretty much stayed put and just enjoying the moment of being in each other’s company.

“I find it hard to believe you never followed through.” You uttered in quiet disbelief. The two of you weren’t moving from your spot all that much but the secure way he held you and the aura of calm confidence he projected was making it hard to think straight.

“It never felt right.”  

You hummed out a pleased sigh as you placed your head in the crook of his neck.

“I guess I was just waiting for you.” Hunter added softly as he rested his head against yours.

You removed your head from the crook of his neck, and you saw the heartfelt meaning behind his eyes. You leaned up to kiss him and for a minute, the entire buzz of the party faded away and it was just you and him sharing in a loving moment together.

As music the music came to a stop, Hunter whispered in your ear, “Want to get outta here?”

You nodded silently and intertwined his hand in yours.

Hunter took a deep breath as he led you away.

Ten minutes left.

--

The rest of them had gathered to watch the two of you leave.

“Let’s go!” Omega gasped eagerly.

“Hold on, kid.” Echo caught her arm as she went to dash after them. “Five-minute head start, remember?”

“Right, right.” Omega agreed as she recalled the particular details of the plan.

“Technically, only Echo should be the one going.” Tech reminded.

“Yeah, Tech, I don’t really think that was ever going to happen.” Echo replied simply.

“Damn right! We’re all getting to see this!” Wrecker argued.

Echo raised his eyebrows in Tech’s direction. “See. And you were never going to stay because you kept talking about recording it anyway.” He pointed out.

“My phrase was merely pointing out that we are all ignoring a part of the plan Hunter quite specifically told the rest of us not to get involved with.” Tech responded.

“We’re not big on following orders.” Omega said with a shrug.

“If you’re all done debating what is a pointless argument because we were all always going to watch, it’s time to go.” Crosshair drawled.

--

“Uh, Hunter, home is that way?” You pointed in the direction he was currently walking in the opposite direction of.

“How about a beach walk first?” Hunter offered.

You gave him a surprised smile but nodded your agreement.

--

It didn’t matter how much reassurance he’d received in the recent weeks that you would say yes. His heart was damn near pounding out his chest the closer the two of you got to the sight and his mind started to spiral. What if you said no? What if you hated the very idea? He should’ve spoken to you about this first but wait, there was something to be said for knowing when it felt right wasn’t there? But maybe he should’ve-

“Your palm is sweaty.” You stopped and got him to face you. “And it’s not just cause of that that I can tell that you’re nervous.”

Great, so much careful planning and keeping you away from people that were far too eager to give you hints and his own usually steady nerves were about to give it all away. He had done everything right so far yet now he was a sweaty mess.

“Hunter, is everything okay?”

“Everything-” Dammit his voice came out all cracked. He cleared his throat and started again. “Everything is fine, I promise.” He started to guide you again. “If you just follow me a little bit further…”

“Follow you to what? Why are you being so…” Your voice trailed off and released an awed gasp as you saw the scene ahead of you. A small section of the beach was set up with a canopy and illuminated in a warm glow by strings of lights and a short carpet led the way inside. “What occasion have I forgotten and how quickly can I make it up to you?” You said as you started to panic.

Hunter was quick to reassure you. “You haven’t forgotten anything, and I think we stopped keeping track of things like that a long time ago.”

“Well, aren’t we the romantic pair.” You said dryly as you looked on in wonder at the fairy lights around you before the two of you came to a stop at the end of the walkway and stood in front of a  

“I think we do alright.” Right on queue, the puck began to play the video Tech had put together, courtesy of Hunter’s guidance.

Your throat clogged with emotion at the display in front of you. The montage was starting right from the moment you had made yourself known to the squad and to when you’d first met Hunter and it was clear something transpired between the two of you. Something that you both would dismiss or shove away for a long time.

Hunter heard the footsteps and there were more than what he had ordered. “I’ll be right back.” He kissed your temple. “Keep watching.” He instructed as he saw you getting ready to question what was going on.

You couldn’t understand why he was leaving but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the images. It seemed it was progressing to show a mix of how your relationship had transpired over the years. From every emotionally charged yet pushed aside moment, to every squabble and every time the rest of the team trapped the two of you somewhere to talk as well as the infuriating times each of them attempted to convince either of you to do something about your feelings. It showed the highs and lows of everything that had happened since Kaller too and it reminded you of just how much you’d all endured and survived.

It was a strange thing to watch, to see how obvious your feelings were yet you knew you’d waited so long before acting on them. It was so evident that the two of you were always drawn together and it would always be that way, the love radiated through, and it was something that had continued to this day.

--

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Hunter hissed as he herded his brothers and Omega behind some rocks. Keeping this secret was hard enough and he was almost there but the appearance of his supportive and rather determined family might be the final thing that gave everything away before he had the chance to even ask you yet.

“But Echo was always allowed to-” Omega started to protest quietly.

“I needed him here.” Hunter couldn’t risk receiving this item until the last minute since he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hide it well enough from you and the last thing he wanted was you to find it accidentally before he had the chance to do things how he wanted.

“Here it is.” Echo handed said item over to him.

“Thank you.” Hunter said appreciatively as he took the small velvet encased box. “But how hard did you try telling this lot not to come down?”

“Eh, not very.” Echo admitted simply. “Come on, Hunter. We all wanted to be here to watch this.”

Hunter did know that, and he wasn’t truly upset, he actually really appreciated everything they’d all helped with. “Alright, alright. Just keep quiet, please?”

Everyone nodded.

Hunter knew they were never going to follow that, but he didn’t have time to push the matter.

“Better get going. By my calculations, the video should be finishing in the next minute.” Tech informed him.

--

The video came to an end, and you couldn’t believe Hunter missed sharing this with you. You sensed him approach but as you turned to question why he’d left, your breath caught in your throat, and you forgot how to form words as you saw him down on one knee and presenting a ring to you.

--

Hunter had rehearsed this so many times, yet his adrenaline was pumping like crazy, but he was determined to see this through to its proper end. He wasn’t about to ruin it because he got jittery. He took a deep, grounding breath before he started to speak. He kept his voice low and though he spoke quietly, he filled each word with intense and sincere meaning.

“I spent so much of the war doing what was asked of me. Winning each battle, completing each mission and that was easy for me, it was comfortable, I knew what I was doing, what my responsibilities were but I was also running on autopilot. I kept moving, doing what needed to be done, it was a routine that I didn’t see myself really breaking f-from. Un-”

He paused to settle his own emotions that rising in his chest and throat. “Until you. You came into my life, and I’d never known I’d been living in a galaxy of grey until I met you and you, with your fire and your strength, brought the colour I’d been missing. You could probably tell from that holo, but everything changed that day and I’ve never been more grateful for it. I knew from the second we met on Devaron that I was hooked. I was yours and I never wanted you to leave. I love you.” He said fiercely. “I love all of you. I love your kindness. I love your mind. I love your courage. I even love your stubbornness, no matter how much stress it causes me. I love how, no matter what, you don’t stop fighting. I love having you by my side, even if you’re arguing with me. I love how you’re always ready to face whatever is sent your way, unless it’s a spider and then you’re more than happy to surrender the room.” He added, the corner of his mouth twitching to hide his teasing grin before he carried on, “I love how you are with Omega. I love how well you fit in with my brothers. I love you in a way I’d never seen myself capable of, yet you make it so easy to do. We’ve been through so much; I’ve nearly lost you more times than I care to count but it also told me something…”

He allowed himself a second to breathe before he went into the final part, “I want it all with you. I know we’ve already got the home, the kid and the dog, and you’ve got the crazy in-laws.” He smiled as you let out a choked but genuine laugh at that. “I want to take the final step with you which is why I’m down on one knee and asking you this question...” He inhaled as he finally asked, “Will you marry me?” He finished and waited anxiously. He really hoped the silent tears running down your face were happy ones.

--

“Wrecker, get in the back, I need to record this, and I cannot see past you.” Tech demanded in a hushed whisper as the four of them watched from behind a cluster of rocks.

“Did she say yes? I can’t hear anything.” Wrecker asked, his voice rising slightly in distress. He didn’t want to miss any of this.

Crosshair spoke up next, “I see tears so it could go either way.”

Omega slapped his arm. “I’m sure they’re happy tears.” 

“Here’s an idea… why don’t we wait to see it all play out first before we start talking about it?” Echo suggested sensibly.

--

His family were quite possibly the least subtle people on the planet. Hunter still hadn’t heard your answer yet, but he could hear them no problem. He waved a hand behind him to signal at them to shut up.

A happy sob mixed with laughter echoed from your lips as you looked past him saw the group of people further down the beach keenly looking on.

You brought your eyes back to Hunter. You had so many things you wanted to say, so many affirmations you wanted to give yet the first dumb thing that left your mouth was an answer in the form of a question, “Are you sure?”

Hunter chuckled as he placed the ring on your finger, the stones dazzling under the moon and fairy light.  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

You flexed your hand as you admired the stunning ring. The design of the silver band was simple with a white round cluster diamond in the centre but what really got to you was the two smaller blue diamonds on either side of it. Their shade was exactly like that of your old lightsaber. Your words left you in a frantic state of joy. “It’s beautiful- You got- how- I mean-” You couldn’t find the words. Instead, you just fell to your knees in front of him and kissed him fervently. I love you; I love you; I love you.

Hunter cradled your face in his hands as he pulled away for a short moment to respond, “I love you too.”

Feeling a bit more collected, you pressed your forehead against his. And I meant to say that I am yours too. I may not have realised it then, but I was yours on Devaron. I saw you, spoke to you and I’d never experienced a feeling like that before. I’d spent so much time doubting if I’d made the right choice by leaving the Order, if I was wrong for believing what I did, but then I met this squad. You retreated a couple inches to look Hunter directly in his brown eyes which were filled with emotion, and you added even more devotion to your tone. And I met you and suddenly I finally realised what I’d been missing. So, yes. Yes, I would love to marry you.

Hunter grinned adoringly at you before he kissed you again. Both of you smiling hard as you kissed one another in short, passionate bursts.

A series of whoops and gleeful cries interrupted your moment and the two of you got to your feet just as Wrecker bounded over and picked the two of you up, squeezing tightly.

“Congratulations!!” Wrecker bellowed as he put you down again.

“I’m so happy for you!” Omega cried as she and Batcher went next. She wrapped her arms around both your waists and the dog took turns jumping up on the two of you. “Let me see the ring!” Omega requested enthusiastically as she pulled away from you both. “Ah it’s so pretty!”

“About time.” Echo said kindly with Crosshair nodding in agreement.  

“Indeed.” Tech concurred as he too smiled at you both.

“You all knew?” You asked as you wiped away a few remaining tears with your uncaptured hand.

“You think Hunter could pull this off by himself?” Crosshair said with a mocking scoff in his brother’s direction, but he gave you both a genuine and pleased smile.

“Look, I had the ideas and I just needed help with the logistics of everything.” Hunter still felt the need to clarify.

“So, all of this…” You trailed off and gestured to the stunning set up that had been arranged.

“Yeah, they all helped me out.” Hunter told you. “And it wasn’t like I’d be able to keep it from them anyway.”

“All of you helped?” You repeated again. What had you done to deserve finding such a perfect family?

“I obviously put together the video and I was recording this moment.” Tech stated, adjusting his goggles. “It’s just as well I back everything up or the Marauder getting destroyed would’ve proven to be more problematic than it already was.”

“And Omega and I set this up!” Wrecker boasted proudly.

“And I helped with the ring.” Echo said. “Hunter laid out the design and I knew a guy who knew a guy who owed him a favour.”

“And you?” You asked Crosshair with a smile.

Crosshair feigned an aggrieved sigh.

“You were too late in claiming the set-up job.” Tech recalled. “And Echo and I had very clear responsibilities, you were just too slow.”

“Yes, Crosshair, unfortunately, had the worst job out of all of them.” Hunter revealed.

“Oh?” You regarded Crosshair curiously.

“I had to listen to him panic over and over again about every single detail and doubt in his head over this whole thing. Didn’t matter that we all knew you were going to say yes, he was a nervous wreck. It was up to me to keep him sane.”  Crosshair told you. He truly hadn’t minded, and it had offered more opportunities for him to hone his skills since he was a hand down.

You looked at the man who was usually so put together and who had never let even the most daunting of chaotic war battles phase him. “Seriously?”

Hunter nodded and awkwardly rubbed his hand along the side of his neck. “Yeah, he was the one I needed to knock some sense into me, sometimes literally I might add.” He said with a pointed look in Crosshair’s direction.  

“That way worked the best.” Crosshair said with a nonchalant shrug.

Hunter turned to you again, “And it still wasn’t enough. Believe it or not, I didn’t want to start sweating beforehand.”

You laughed before you addressed all of them. “Thank you. All of you. This was absolutely perfect! I’m so grateful!”

Another group hugged happened before Wrecker and Omega excitedly bounced on soles of their feet.

“Come on, the party’s just getting started!” Wrecker urged.

“Wait, I thought-” You broke off and looked to Hunter.

Hunter gave you a knowing grin. “You didn’t think the people of Pabu were going to let this go uncelebrated, did you?”

You inhaled sharply. “This party…”

“Is also serving as a congratulations on getting engaged.” Tech confirmed as he walked past you. “Hunter and Shep thought the whole thing through.”

“It’s a good thing you said yes or that would’ve been really awkward.” Echo commented with a smile as he too headed back up.

Well, that explained why Hunter was so dismissive of the change in attitudes the two of you had received in recent times as well as his caginess towards certain phrases or questions you asked. And Lyra’s sudden appearance as well as her ‘gifts’ checked out a bit more too. You stared at Hunter, incredibly impressed. “You somehow managed to plan this entire thing and I had no idea?”

Hunter nodded. “A lot of kind people live around us, but the price of their assistance was that they’re terrible at secret keeping and also made my life a living hell.” Hunter kidded before he kissed you once more and led you back the way you came, the delightful cold metal of your ring pressing against his fingers.

--

The walk back up to the colonnade was filled with cheers and celebratory whistles as the two of you reappeared. Much of the party remained the same except now a huge congratulations banner was on display.

Shep came over to you and hugged you. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you, Shep. For all of it. This is amazing!” You returned his warm embrace.

Shep parted and shook Hunter’s hand. “Everything go well?”

“Very. Thank you for all your help. I couldn’t have done it without you.” Hunter said gratefully.

“I’m just glad you finally did it. We were all losing hope that it wasn’t going to happen.”

“They were?” You nudged Hunter’s shoulder playfully.

“After we recovered from Tantiss, I was apparently still moving too slowly.” Hunter said lightly.

“We need not dwell on such things now. Please, enjoy the celebrations!” Shep waved goodbye as he went to make the rounds once more.

“Incoming.” Hunter warned you.

“What-” You were nearly tackled by the woman who had clattered into your side.

“About damn time!”

 “That seems to be the general consensus.” You said as you steadied yourself against Lyra’s eager hug.

“Let me see!” Lyra took your hand and gasped in admiration. “Oh, it’s gorgeous!” She then looked to Hunter. “You did good, well done!” She swivelled her attention back to you. “And you! You are going to get the best wedding dress ever! I have so many designs in mind already!”

“Can’t wait for that.” You said and you meant it but that didn’t stop the wary laugh you emitted either.

“My drink is empty, but we will talk more!” With that, she hurried away.

“I’m never going to be able to keep up with her on anything.” You commented as you watched her go, a soft smile on your face.

“Rather you than me. I’m all set.” Hunter said smugly.

Your response was interrupted by an approaching Rodian.

“Courtesy of Phee.”

You and Hunter took the cocktails from the tray the rather timid new island resident offered and looked into each other’s eyes as you clinked glasses. The two of you too caught up in the bliss of the moment to notice that your cinnamon sugar-rimmed glass had tracings of a white powder mixed in amongst it.

--

The next morning

To say you felt like hell would be an understatement. You awakened with a deep groan and rolled over onto your front.

Hunter woke up to the sound and saw that you were awake, but you were face down in your pillow. “And how are you feeling this morning?” He quipped.

You groaned again. “I am going to say this with all the love I can possibly muster… fuck off.” The threat lost some weight since your voice was muffled by the presence of the pillow.

“I didn’t think Jedi could get hungover.” Hunter said, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Yes well, I was always making waves one way or another and here is another prime example of that. How many of those damn Phee cocktails did I drink?”

“I only saw you drink one, but the party ran late, and we weren’t together the entire time, but you were with Lyra a bunch, so I figured you were going her pace. You were pretty out of it when we were heading home, you fell asleep instantly.”

The entire evening post that one cocktail was a total blur, so you just had to accept that. The deep pain and nausea you were experiencing just had to be the effects of a first and truly awful hangover. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t plan on that at all.”

Hunter shushed your unnecessarily apology and placed light kisses along your shoulders and down your spine. “What do you need?”

“A lobotomy and a new stomach.” You grunted.

“Naturally… and if I can’t get that arranged?”

You angled your head to face him and rubbed your thumb along his cheek affectionately. “I just need a few hours alone to sleep it off, I’ll be okay.”

Hunter got out of bed and quietly got dressed. “I’ll see what I can find to help. I’ll be back in an hour.” He lightly squeezed your shoulder

You watched him leave and let that concern you’d been feeling take hold. You felt absolutely exhausted and though you’d never been hungover before, something about this felt different but you couldn’t think of what or why that would be.

You pushed it to the back of your mind for now and focused on sleeping and feeling better. You had a future to plan, you weren’t about to let this throw a wrench in things.

--

Hunter had been waylaid by more people who he didn’t have the time to both thank and accept their congratulations from so he was later than he’d told you but the minute he entered the house, he knew something was wrong and it wasn’t because he was late.

That was when he heard the sounds of someone- well it would only be you- graphically vomiting. He dumped the supplies he’d gathered and hustled to the open refresher door where you were hunched over the toilet.

“Sweetheart, how long have you been like this?” Hunter asked, his concern evident as he rushed in and took over holding your hair just as you finished throwing up.

“Uh, when did you leave?” You rasped through sore, heavy breaths as you righted yourself but still remained slouched against small gap between the toilet and the shower.

“An hour and a half ago.” Hunter said quietly as he sat down next to you and stroked your knee in a soft, consoling gesture.

“Oh good, I got to sleep for thirty minutes.” You said wryly through gritted teeth. “Then I guess it’s been pretty much every ten minutes.”

Hunter got to his feet and ran a washcloth under some cold water for you before he dabbed it against your clammy forehead and the back of your neck. “You should get back to bed.” He said tenderly.

“I tried earlier but leaving the bathroom floor isn’t an opti-” You stopped short before you held your head over the toilet bowl and the whole process began again. “Any time you want to take this off, say the word.” You mumbled as you pitifully waved your left hand in Hunter’s direction before another ugly wretch sounded from you and your body heaved as somehow more vomit left your system.

“Enough of that.” Hunter soothed as he gathered your hair again. “I think we need to go see Dalia.”

You managed to shake your head just as the last of your stomach contents dispensed from your system. She was someone people go to with an actual injury or medical problem and this was certainly not that. This was just you not being able to handle your alcohol... it had to be.   

“Then how about Tech?” Hunter compromised quietly as he rubbed delicate circles on your back.

You resisted the urge to wince at the action that usual would bring you comfort but instead was only sharpening the thankfully now dulling ache in your limbs. “No, no. I’m-” You sat back once more and shakily got to your feet. “I think I just hurled my entire insides out which seems to have helped.” You accepted the water from him, and you had to make a conscious effort to drink slowly since your parched and sore throat welcomed the cool liquid. The nausea and general bodily pain were less, and you didn’t want to make a fuss, especially after all that had been done for you the night before. “I’m feeling better.” You said but as you went to step out the refresher, you immediately became lightheaded and swayed violently on your feet.

“Sweetheart, please.” Hunter implored as he caught your shoulders. He’d seen hangovers but this seemed more serious than your typical post drinking consequences and it was worrying him.

“Okay, we can start with Tech.” You conceded as the room finally came back into focus.

“I’ll comm him.”

“No, I want to walk. I don’t think being cooped up is doing me any favours.” You said as firmly as you could convey.

Even in your weakened state, Hunter could tell that was a point he wasn’t going to win an argument on. He gently placed his arm around you as you gingerly made your way to the door.

--

From afar, the Rodian and Twilek watched through macrobinoculars as their target left her home with her joined up with the rest of the clones.

“How is she out and about?” The rodian remarked in astonishment.

The twilek sighed in aggravation. “Remember what the boss said, she’s a fighter and she’s strong. You clearly got the dose wrong. She’s able to be out here cause she had to have thrown it all up.”

“But the boss also wants her alive, I gave the amount I was sure would leave her vulnerable but wouldn’t kill her.”

“Well, we can’t take her whilst she’s surrounded by that group anyway, and even if we get her alone, she needs to be fully incapacitated for us to even have a shot...”

“What are you saying?” The rodian asked nervously. He’d never been as sure or as excited about this job as his twilek partner was, but the money was too good to pass up. But there was a new kind of sociopathic gleam in the twilek’s eyes that unnerved him.

“I’m saying we up the dose until her body can’t fight it.” Life here was slow and the satisfaction he’d glean from watching you and the people around you hopelessly attempt to figure out and fight what was wrong with you was an opportunity too tempting to ignore.

To the rodian, that sounded awfully risky. Both for them and their target. This stuff was extremely lethal even in a small amount. Plus, the longer they lingered, the higher the chance that they’d be discovered. And he knew his poisons- this one was one of his own inventions too- which was how he also knew it was particularly volatile when given in large quantities. The build-up of symptoms was designed to make the recipient so agonised and weakened that they’d wish for a death that would never arrive but that was when administered at regular intervals of the same low quantity– death didn’t have to be the end result, the torture was what one would buy this poison for. But, if they went with this strategy, every deadly symptom would hit you all at once and he knew you’d never survive that which wasn’t useful to their specific remit. However, the twilek had been put in charge and he wasn’t someone he wanted to be on the bad side of. “The boss won’t be happy…”

The twilek dismissed that without skipping a beat, “So, we won’t tell her yet. We just need to get the Jedi to the boss alive for the premium cut of the deal. After that, who the hell cares how she ends up.”  His voice wavered in an attempt to stay level-headed with the rodian. This whole poisoning method was so tiresome- he much preferred a straight fight- but they’d been warned off that with this whole squad. Hence why he was stuck with this jittery rodian who had gotten into this line of work through offering his services and using his skills as an apothecary for what sensitive people would deem immoral uses and gains. But even he had to admit, a Jedi was easier to apprehend if they couldn’t fight back and everyone here was so stupidly trusting, it made getting access to you almost too easy. The trickiest and most time-consuming part would be getting you alone but from their brief, he knew that time would arrive sooner or later, he just needed to be patient.

--

3 weeks later

You finished dry-heaving and risked a glance in the mirror above the sink as you slowly went upright as it became clear nothing was coming up. You regretted that decision immediately.

You barely recognised the person staring back at you.

Your clothes stuck to you uncomfortably. The fever was a new addition as of last week and your hair was slick with sweat, and you wiped away the drops slowly sliding down your temples.

Your face was sunken and devoid of all life.

Dark circles were under your eyes, so dark that they could’ve been mistaken for bruises. There was no light behind them at all, no sign of that lively spark that had once been a constant part of you.

It was as if all your fire and vibrancy had evaporated.

You looked like a shell of a human being.

To top it all off, you noticed spots of blood at the corners of your mouth and in the saliva that you’d hacked up, but you put that down to the strain your throat had been put through. Cleaning up, you took one last strengthening breath but even that was proving to be more effort than you’d expected. You then heard a quiet knock on the other side of the door

You opened the refresher door to see Hunter standing waiting with his now standard worried expression on his face and your flask of water. He’d stopped offering you food in the early stages when it became clear you couldn’t hold it down and even water appeared to be a struggle.

You rejoined the group of people in the living room who were all here to supposedly help you plan the ceremony but all you got was the sea of nervous and concerned expressions from your squad- and that included Echo who had planned to leave once you were feeling better, but that day was yet to arrive- and Dalia. “I’m fine.” You exhaled wearily as you sat down. You thought just flinging yourself into what should’ve been a good distraction would aid in your recovery but, aside from the reduction in vomiting, things weren’t looking that much improved. In fact, you’d probably admit they’d gotten worse. You realised there were two faces missing. “Where are Shep and Lyra?” You asked, your voice strained and hoarse. You rubbed your arms because, despite the humid day, you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.

Wrecker placed a blanket around your shoulders.

“They didn’t think discussing flower arrangements was a smart use of your energy.” Crosshair remarked in a clipped tone, but it came from a place of care. He, like the rest of them, was growing more and more disturbed as your condition continued to deplete.

You lacked the gumption to argue with him so instead you just nodded in acknowledgement that you’d heard him.

Hunter noted you still hadn’t drunk from the water he’d handed you. He tapped the cup to prompt you to do so. “If you would just lie down...”

You did it for him but even water tasted wrong as it went down your throat and it really didn’t sit well. “Remember that stubbornness you love?” You said through a grimace. Plus, sleep pretty much eluded you these days.

“This is one of those times where it drives me crazy.” Hunter muttered fretfully.

“If I just sit around, I’ll go insane. I-” You lost energy halfway through your attempted to explain your reasoning. Instead, you readied yourself for the medical questions from Tech and Dalia- the town healer- that were sure to come your way now.

“Your fever is getting worse.” Tech observed as he took your vitals.

“Bacta won’t do you any good anymore. You’re just burning it off.” Dalia said as she confirmed Tech’s words.

“And I checked with AZ, his recent round of tests came up with nothing.” Omega said defeatedly, patting Batcher in an attempt to quell her worries.

“So, what else can you do?” Hunter asked Dalia and Tech anxiously. It really felt like they were running out of options. He saw you hunch over in pain, and he didn’t need to touch you to feel the heat radiating off you. He instinctively reached out to offer you some semblance of physical comfort, but he knew that hurt you now, so he stopped himself.

Tech started first, “We can test for-”

You straightened up and once the room stopped spinning, put on a brave face. “Look, we ruled everything out. It’s just stress, Tech. Besides, I’m not even throwing up anymore, it’s just dry heaving so that’s progress.” You said, attempting for levity but you were too exhausted to convey it.

“I’ve seen you stressed; your symptoms were not of this format nor this severe.”

“So, it’s a different type of stress.” You said tiredly as you forced yourself to stay upright.

“And your pain?” Dalia asked as she took examined you as best she could in this particular circumstance. Your medical case was infuriating, one because she liked you and hated seeing you in this state, and two, because she hated not knowing how to help you. Everything she had attempted had proven useless. She knew your ailments but had no idea what was causing them. Your pain wasn’t localised, and no pain killers were working. All she knew for sure was that you were incredibly dehydrated and sleep-deprived, your entire body ached, you couldn’t stomach anything, and you had a fever that was reaching near dangerous levels. How you still functioning had to be due to your special abilities, but it was also a testament to your sheer strength and force of will.

The pain was getting harder and harder to ignore. “Well…” You nervously fidgeted with your ring.

“It’s worse?” Dalia and Hunter said together in the same troubled tone.

“Let’s just say the sedatives you’ve given me to sleep are losing their effectiveness.” You mumbled.

“I can give you a stronger dose.” Dalia offered. It wasn’t a suggestion she liked giving but she was running out of ideas.

“I’m not spending my time half awake and barely alive.” The irony of the comment given your present condition was not lost on you though. “I still get a few hours with what you’ve already provided. It’ll do.” Although, saying you got even a few hours was also a generous statement.  

“You can’t be serious.” Echo couldn’t help but protest, voice rising in concern. “A few hours aren’t enough to-”

“Echo…” Hunter warned. He’d already gone down this path with you and it was something you’d never budge on.

Dalia heaved a sigh as she finished up and took a fresh blood sample for comparison to previous ones. She readied to leave. “Look, me being here throwing useless suggestions your way isn’t helping either. Best I can advise is slow down. I’m going to run through your labs again.” With that, Dalia got to her feet and headed for the door.

“Thanks for coming by.” You said to her, your voice heavy with effort it took to sound somewhat normal.

“For the record, that was not convincing.” Crosshair told you as he took your water canteen to refill it since Hunter was seeing Dalia out. “Why didn’t you take the damn sedatives?”

“If Hunter can’t even get me to do that, what makes you think you can?” You pointed out as you curled in on yourself. You also knew they truly wouldn’t make a difference.

You were growing more and more aware of the reality of your situation, and it wasn’t anything that could be prevented.

--

Hunter caught Dalia’s arm just before she exited. “Dalia, she physically can’t go on like this for much longer. And it’s not just because she’s refusing to ease up. There are days where I can convince her to just stay in bed, but it’s not helping.” He whispered, doing his best to keep his voice level as his worries threatened to overcome him.

“Hunter, I’m sorry. I’m looking into everything, I promise.” Dalia said in a quiet voice. “Tech and I even checked for poisons, but nothing came up. But I’m not going to stop, I swear it.”

Hunter sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know, Dalia. Thank you.” Hunter said sincerely before he shut the door and took a calming breath as he turned around and filled him with both sadness but gratitude. All of them were doing what they could do support you.

He watched as Wrecker and Omega delicately fussed with your blanket, Tech continued to study furiously on his datapad for anything that might correlate to what was causing your illness, and even Crosshair was making sure you were drinking water regularly. But then, he saw that recognisable look in your eyes, and he saw Echo help you to your feet before you staggered to the refresher, and he exhaled shakily as he got control over his own deep anxieties over your condition.

He followed you to the refresher again, ignoring the fretful looks his family were sending both his and each other’s way.

--

You hadn’t managed to lock him out this time, so he was able to enter, shut the door and collect the hair falling forward around your face. Every miserable effort your body put you through in an attempt to rid you of whatever it was that was causing this sickness only exacerbated the strain on your worn out and frail form. He kept trying to not fixate on it because they were all working on figuring this out and he had to believe that someone would find something… because he knew you were running out of time.

You finished up and exhaled a shuddering breath, “It hurts, Hunter. Everything just hurts.” You admitted, your voice racked with agony. You only wanted it to stop. You needed it to stop.

Hunter’s chest tightened. “We’re going to find out what this is.” He promised. He reached for you but hesitated.

The need to be held by him overpowered the subsequent discomfort and you folded into his embrace and let the silent defeated tears finally fall.

--

“I really hate this, you know.” Hunter griped worriedly as he got ready to leave you at the door and spend the night with his brother’s and Omega. Somehow him saying you needed to get to sleep had turned into you sleeping here by yourself. Despite the fact that they’d all wanted to spend the night here; you’d gotten them to agree to leave you alone. How you’d managed to do that, he had absolutely no idea.

You knew he did but with all your tossing and turning in your feverish delirium, he wasn’t getting much rest either and you hated that more than you hated your own sickness. You raised your hand, your arm feeling unnaturally heavy, and placed it on his chest to quell his fears but even that simple action sent a sharp pain through your limbs.

Hunter noticed your efforts to conceal your discomfort and what you’d said in the refresher was still plaguing his head. How could you expect him to leave you like this. “Please let me stay, I really don’t mind-”

“Hunter, you haven’t had a solid night’s sleep since the night of the party. There’s no sense in us both suffering here.” You just about managed to give him a smile of reassurance. “It’s just one night and you’re only a few houses down. If I need anything, I’ll get you on the comm, I promise.”

“I won’t sleep any better away from you. I-”

“But here you have no choice. I need to know you at least had the option.” You insisted as you fought against the urge to slump into his arms. Your entire body felt like lead.

“But-”

“I’ll see you in the morning.” You said with finality before your voice softened. “I’m only asking you do this for one night. Just one night where I don’t have to worry about you.”

“Worry about me?” Hunter repeated with combined fondness and exasperation. At least that sounded more like you. “Sweetheart, the only person that anyone needs to worry about is you and that should include you.”

“What if I promise to spend all my time tonight worrying only about myself?” You offered, a hint of your old spark coming through before it was squashed by another bout of pain settling in your muscles. Your jaw clenched in an attempt to keep your groan contained. You thumb fiddled with your ring in an attempt to distract yourself.

Hunter picked up on that too but not wanting to put you under the strain of further deliberation, released a long, drawn-out breath and managed a stiff and reluctant nod of consent to this idea.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Hunter replied as he caressed your fingertips with his own. It was the closest to an affection gesture that he could offer you now.

“Batcher is going to stay with you.” Omega said with a slightly nervous smile as she patted the hound farewell. “Just in case.” She knelt down in front of the dog and stroked the underside of her chin. “Look after her, Batcher.”

Batcher gave her an affirmative bark in reply before she came and sat by your side.

“Thanks kid.” You waved as she and the others departed but Hunter still lingered. “Go.” You ordered with a half-smile.

With one final look in your direction, Hunter finally forced himself to leave.

You shut the door and braced your forehead against it as a fresh wave of dizziness and pain coursed through your body. You felt a wet nose nuzzle against your hand with a quiet whine. You opened your eyes to see Batcher looking up at you with an intense, concerned stare. “I’m alright, girl.” You winced as you pushed yourself away. You were employing the strategy that if you told yourself that enough times, maybe one day it would prove to be true.

You debated the effort of going all the way to your bed, but your body gave up halfway there, so you decided on the convenience of the couch, Batcher curled up on the floor beside you.

--

Hours had passed. You weren’t sleeping but you were working on attempting to trick your body into thinking it could by keeping your eyes shut.

The sound of barking caused you to finally give up and open them which you did, and you were greeted by the sight of Batcher snarling at the dark shape looming over you and watched as it reacted quickly to the attacking hound and the stun blast took Batcher out before she had the chance to inflict any damage.

To say you reacted sluggishly would be an understatement. You could barely will your body to move out of the way of the threat. Your eyes finally quickly adjusted, you realised it was a male twilek and he was currently sticking a need filled with a clear liquid into your thigh.

You finally slapped his hand away but not before the needle pierced your skin.

You shot to your feet, stumbling slightly as you recovered from the head rush that hit you as a result.

You immediately felt faint.

A fresh wave of intense pain tore its way through your body and the nausea and overall weakness that overwhelmed you was scarily familiar.

It was then you realised what he’d just infected you with was in fact the source your sickness. But what you couldn’t understand was how it didn’t show up on any of the scans and tests you’d undertaken. Even though at the time you’d thought it rather unnecessary, you had been checked multiple times for poisons in your blood, yet this got missed and that was deeply concerning in its own right.

The other concern was, judging by how feeble and breathless you became, this was finally the one that your body couldn’t fight against, and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold out. If you could just get to your comm…

“You’ve got a very protective group. I thought they’d never leave. Thank you for finally sending them away.” The twilek said, utterly unphased by being discovered. He stalked around the couch and placed himself between you and the front door.  

“How did you get-” You then remembered the open window in your bedroom.

“It’s funny how little people care about the security of their homes and personal effects here. You were basically inviting all of this.” He twirled his blaster with arrogant nonchalance. He saw the way you were clutching your side like you could brace yourself against the pain coursing through your veins and your knees buckled but you caught yourself against the coffee table the move seeing the cup of water fall to the ground, cracking with the impact. “Now, let me see, I’ve been hearing enough about how this poison works to remember some of the effects. Let me guess…” He tapped the tip of his blaster against his chin as he listed them off as you pitifully worked on getting to your feet, “Constant nausea, insomnia, fever, dizzy spells and extreme bodily pain. None of which standard medical can defeat. I’m sure I missed some but those are definitely the highlights. Does that sound about right?”  He taunted.

You forced yourself to stand tall. Your eyes darted to your comm link on the kitchen counter.

“I wouldn’t…” The twilek warned in irritation as he stalked towards you.

You didn’t listen. You channelled whatever energy you had left and landed kick to his stomach- the action causing you more pain than it did him- and made a dash towards it.

Just as you grabbed it, you felt a brutally take hold of the back of your neck and smack your head against the edge of the counter. Blood poured from the fresh cut on your forehead, and you collapsed to the floor with a pained cry and cups and plates came smashing to the ground around you.

You shook away the black spots encroaching on your vision and attempted to crawl along the floor to your discarded comm device, sharp pieces of debris cutting into your palms, your body screaming in agony with the effort.

“I gotta give you credit.” He picked at his cuticles. “You lasted longer than I thought you would but I’m sick of this place so if you don’t mind, I’m going to speed this along.”

You felt a knee on your back and the butt of a blaster smack against your temple, turning your world black.

--

“Did you have to beat her like that? The poison has clearly been working. One stun blast and she’d be done.” The rodian chastised as he saw the twilek unceremoniously dump your freshly bruised body on the floor of the ship. He swivelled in the pilot’s chair and turned the ship on.

“The bitch still put up a fight. Besides, you had your fun with your little concoction. I needed mine. Now, hold on, we’re not leaving just yet.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Give me two minutes.” With that, the twilek took off the engagement ring and departed the ship.

“You didn’t use that final vial, did you?” The rodian called after him but he got no answer.

--

The following morning

Hunter roused from his restless slumber. It had been a mildly better night but not one he’d be looking to repeat.

He tidied his section of the floor he’d been given- it was a tight squeeze with all six of them here- and put away his sleep mat and spoke to his family who were all gathered in the kitchen, nursing cups of caf. “I’m heading back to check on her.”

“We’ll join you momentarily.” Tech said, his sights fixed firmly on his datapad.

Hunter nodded but as he opened the door, his blood ran cold as he saw what was on the doorstep. He kneeled down to pick it up and a new type of panic sat heavy in his chest.

“Hunter?” Echo had been the one to call over, but they’d all noticed the change in his posture.

Hunter’s head snapped in the direction of the sound of frantic, worried barks and he saw Batcher come sprinting around the corner. He started running, the rest of his squad following close behind.

--

The front room set the scene for Hunter in brief yet terrifying detail.

The floor was a mess of broken glass and smears of blood.

Your comm lay abandoned on the ground.

And you were nowhere to be found.

Hunter couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t best the tightening in his chest and the fear taking root in his heart. All he could hear was a high-pitched droning in his ears and it took everything in him not to succumb to the terror he was experiencing as he realised you had been taken from him. Again.  

Around him, his brothers already started analysing the scene.

“The Empire-” Wrecker began to ask.

“Rex and I have been monitoring them and they have no idea where any of you are. This isn’t them.” Echo disagreed.

“It’s not their style either.” Crosshair stated.

“It is highly possible that a bounty hunter infiltrated this place in. Technically, I believe the price on her head would still stand.” Tech theorised.

“But who would know where we are?” Omega asked him.

“It would be best to consider past interactions and any new people you came across post Eriadu as well as those we already know who can tie us here. Now, naturally that should include Phee and Lyra. They may have accidentally-”

“Tech, no one on this island would ever give her or any of you up.” Echo argued.

Frustrations between all of them started to rise. They were going in circles and they knew your condition only made things that much more urgent.

“I’m very well aware of that fact but the truth is we need to think practically here. Someone knows where we are, and that knowledge has been used against us. Someone with enough skills to what I assume is poison her enough to take her out, and to elude all of us and take advantage of the very foundations of this place. Surely, there is someone that fits that profile.”

“There are too many.” Crosshair countered.

“There’s not way of knowing for sure.” Wrecker agreed with Crosshair. “And she needs us now.”

“Well, we need to start somewhere.” Tech said logically though he had to make an active effort to keep his own anxieties in check.

Meanwhile, Hunter carefully held your engagement ring and remembered the happiness and hope it was supposed to represent. How was that a little over a month ago, there had been so much excitement and joy in his life, and it had been so quickly overturned by pain and suffering. This was supposed to be a new life, a new beginning. You were supposed to be safe here, the threat of Hemlock and the Empire was over. Yet somehow, the past had come back to inflict more damage. Who could possibly have anything to gain from claiming that bounty? Who did they know that was that heartless, that calculated but would use a method so cowardly. And most importantly, knew they were here. Who could’ve- Hunter snapped out of it and pocketed your ring. He interrupted the steady stream of voices, “It’s Cid.”

All of them looked at him in bewilderment as he said that name.

“The Trandoshan from Ord Mantell?” Crosshair double checked since he’d never actually met her, he only knew the name through stories, but he knew that her name had nothing positive to go with it.

Hunter nodded.

“How do you know?” Wrecker asked.

“Because everyone else wouldn’t do this.”

“But wouldn’t we be aware of her presence here?” Tech pointed out.

“Lyra wouldn’t sell us out and neither would Phee. But there’s another link between us and Phee, and that’s Cid. You’re talking about bounty hunters, and we know she doesn’t do her own dirty work. It was her who told, same way she was the one that told the Empire we were here, and now she’s doing it again.” Hunter said, his voice eerily calm. “Tech, how much of the party did you record?”

“All of it.” Tech responded and, already anticipating Hunter’s next question, he pulled up the footage.

All of the gathered round as Tech brought up the recording of the party, increasing the playback speed as the evening unfolded.

Hunter, swallowing harshly as he made himself ignore all the tender moments with you that made that evening feel so perfect, anxiously scanned the flashing scenes in front of his eyes, looking for that first instance where you got infected and where this plan all started. “There!”

Tech paused the video feed.

“Dammit.” Hunter clenched his hands into fists. How had he missed that? How had he let you down that badly? “Dammit.” He hissed again under his breath before he departed and made for Shep’s.

“What did we miss?” Echo asked as the rest of them as they all stared at the frozen image of the rodian with the drink.

There was silence for a few minutes as they all peered at the screen.

Tech inhaled sharply as he next spotted the subtle difference. “The white powder…”

They all ran after their brother.

--

Shep heard an insistent pounding on his door and opened it to see Hunter standing there, breathing hard and there was a panic behind his eyes that he couldn’t hide and to Shep, that only meant one thing. “Is she-”

Hunter wasn’t even going to let him finish that thought. “The rodian from the engagement party. Who is he?” He questioned sharply.

“The rodian?” Shep repeated in confusion. This was the last thing he expected to hear.

“The rodian at the party.” Hunter repeated hurriedly. “He gave us our drink once we got back from the beach. He had yellow skin, quiet demeanour. He was new to the island; I didn’t recognise him.”

Shep recovered quickly. “Yes, yes.” He recalled the one Hunter was referring to. “He arrived with a twilek. They were quiet, mostly kept to themselves.”

“Were?” Hunter repeated and he felt his squad approach from behind.

Shep pointed down the road, “I checked on the temporary housing we provided them to see how they were feeling about the move, but they are no longer there. What does this-” Shep was only met with the sights on all of them racing for that house.

--

Hunter took in the front room. From the clothes left behind and the general disarray in the living space, it was obvious that they’d left in a hurry. He then noticed a puck for long range communications had also been forgotten about and that was the first time he felt a flicker of hope. “Tech.”

“I’m on it.” Tech confirmed as he began working on hacking into the system to trace where the communications went.

Hunter and the others continued to search the house and that was when Hunter spotted an old wanted poster of you nailed to the wall with a knife through your face. Hunter tore it down and curled one into a tight ball in a flash of rage before he composed himself continued searching the area for any sign of where they’d gone.

“Hunter.” Omega called over as she opened a cabinet just above the sink.

Hunter walked over to where the young girl was and took in what she had found.

There was a vast array of discarded and empty vials inside the cupboard which were accompanied by a series of instructions for powder ingestion or liquid injection. Underneath the untidy scrawl, was also a list of symptoms that would accompany each dosage but what caused the fear he was working on supressing to spike was that it seemed to be that their plan had consisted of giving you the second-most lethal one.

But there was no name of the mixture, no list of ingredients to go off of or any signs of a cure. It only served to confirm that what you had been experiencing was a cruel, carefully maintained poisoning.

“I’ve got the location.” Tech announced as he brought up the coordinates to Asusto.

Hunter memorised the number and he knew he’d be able to track you once he landed. Next, he barked out orders like he’d done for most of his life. “Tech, you start getting what you can from these instructions. You thought it was a poison before, do what you can to narrow the list down. Omega, you help him. I’ll confirm what they did once I find them and get the antidote. The rest of you, help Dalia get ready for our return.” With that order, he turned on his heels and ran for home.

--

He entered the bedroom and started preparations to leave all the while doing his best to not let each reminder of you in here to distract him. You needed him focused, not frantic with worry. He reached under the bed and pulled out the case of depleted armour that he’d never thought he’d have to put on again. It wasn’t even a complete set anymore, and it was still scratched and worn down, but it had to do. He grabbed his blaster and vibroblade and got ready to leave.

As he left, he saw that Wrecker, Echo and Crosshair had returned and were all stood there, blasters in hand and in whatever armour they’d had post Tantiss. “No.” He said immediately.

“Dalia can handle setting up herself. You’re not doing this alone. You need us as backup.” Echo reasoned.

“I can’t ask that of you.” Hunter said with a firm shake of his head. This was supposed to be behind them, he wouldn’t inflict this another fight on them.

“You’re not asking, and neither are we. We’re going with you.” Crosshair said definitively.

“Yeah, you mess with one of us, you get all of us!” Wrecker said in agreement.

“I already told Rex and he ordered me to stay here. You’re not doing this alone.” Echo added. “My ship is ready whenever you are.”

Hunter dipped his head in thanks before he led the way out.

--

Your head was pounding.

The cuts on your palms stung.

Everything around you sounded fuzzy- it almost sounded like you were underwater- and from what your semi-conscious self could tell, you appeared to be in some sort of basement. You weren’t cuffed or chained but that was probably because your captors realised you were hardly able to keep your eyes open, let alone plan an attack to get out of here. You could make out their blurry shapes just ahead of you, and you strained to hear why the rodian was in such a state. As you did so, you felt something wet dripping down your face, and you guess the damp basement had a leak somewhere.

“Shitshitshit, this is why I told you not to give her that last dosage!” The rodian cried in a frantic panic.

You felt a coarse fabric scrape under your nose, and you saw the crimson stain of blood as it was pulled away… so, clearly, it wasn’t a leaky roof. You had no doubt that signified the end for you- it was now only a matter of when- but your current disjointed thought process had you worrying more about the fact that the comforting presence of the ring on your left hand was no longer there.

“You wanted her to be an easy grab, I made sure of it.”

“I don’t have an antidote prepared!

“So, make one.” The twilek said with no concern whatsoever.

“With what ingredients? This was never the plan!”

“She’ll be dead before we even leave this room and if the boss doesn’t kill us, the client sure as fuck will!”

“She was as good as dead anyway; I only sped it along.”

“You-”

“How long?” You croaked, interrupting their argument.

The twilek ignored you but the rodian, wringing his hands anxiously, said, “About two hours.”

“Ah.” You said plainly. “Guess you mistimed that one huh?” You winced as you curled into the fetal position as if it could ease the agony coursing through every fibre in your body.

“Just keep your mouth shut.” The twilek ordered as the both of you as they waited for their boss to show up.

--

You had been in and out of consciousness but came around to the sound of the rodian babbling to himself about how everything had gone to shit, and they were seconds away from getting killed. You clued in to the sounds of a door opening and footsteps descending to the basement.

You feebly raised your head and you saw the face you wished you’d never see again. “You bitch. You fucking bitch.” You seethed weakly. The last bouts of your cognitive abilities put it together: Ord Mantell, the Empire on Pabu and now these bounty hunters being able to find you… it all fell into place. “Betraying us twice wasn’t enough for you?”

Cid didn’t let your words bother her. “Money is money and you’re worth a lot of money.”

You attempted to sit up but the best you could manage was propping yourself up on your forearms. “I hate to break it to you, but the person in the Empire who wanted me is very much dead.”

“Who said it was the Empire?” Cid said coolly.

A new type of panic set in but you were distracted by the warm, wet liquid sliding down your face and on to your lips, the iron tang of it burning your tongue.

Cid then noticed the blood steadily dripping from your nostrils. She whirled on the two goons she’d hired. “That’s not supposed to appear until the last stage, how much did you give her?!”

The rodian just glanced to the twilek.

The twilek shrugged. “Look, boss, you told us to use the poison however we saw fit. She needed a hell of a lot more of it in her system, why do you think we took so long?”

“She’s no good to me or the client if she’s dead!” Cid said angrily. “How long has she got?”

A beat of silence.

“About an hour.” The rodian informed her nervously.

Cid cursed under her breath. “We don’t meet the client until midnight!”

“Just push the meeting to now. Get her to the client alive and take the cash and get outta there.” The twilek suggested calmly.

“They’d know something was up. And we’d never get away with it with how she looks like now!”

“You try what they gave me and see how good you look at the end of it.” You muttered in offence, a new type of delirium taking hold of you.

Cid paid you no attention. “What about the antidote?” She asked the rodian sharply. “This is your poison; you must know how to counter it?”

“Aw Cid, I knew you still cared.” You said hoarsely, and everything around you started to move in and out of focus, each haggard breath leaving you acted like a sick form of countdown.

“The ingredients don’t exist here, and I never brought them. It wasn’t supposed to get to this point.” The rodian admitted.

Cid tossed her hands in the air, her own nerves steadily rising. “You idiots! This deal was for a fit Jedi slave, and you’ve given me someone that isn’t going to last the next hour! How-” Her tirade was cut short by the sound of an explosion above them, dust descending from the ceiling with the impact.

“Do you know the great thing about having a family?” You said with a cold laugh. You forced yourself to sit up. You may be fighting a losing battle but one thing you still knew was who the cause of that explosion. You’d sense them anywhere. “We look out for one another.” You glowered at the twilek, “That ‘protective bunch’ are about to become your living hell.”

The twilek only glared at you.

“If they’ve found us, it’s because you left a way for them to track our communications!” Cid said angrily.

“Don’t look at me, he’s the one who was responsible for packing up.” The twilek said dismissively, readying his blaster for the fight he’d finally been waiting for.

“Well, he was the one that taunted them with the ring!” The rodian said in a panic as the thudding of footsteps drew closer.

“Ring?” Cid repeated, her stomach dropping to her feet in fear. She glanced to your depleted form, and the realisation of just what precisely had developed between you and dark and broody since Ord Mantell cemented her fate. She’d royally messed this up.

“You guys are fucked.” You said dazedly as you slouched against the wall and more blood spilled from your nostrils, staining your hands and the ground below.

The door at the top of the basement stairs crashed open and smoke engulfed the room.

--

Three precise shots fired through the smoke.

Cid raised her arms in instant surrender as the smoke dissipated and she saw the state of her hired bounty hunters. The twilek’s blaster had been shot out his hands and he was bleeding from a shot to just below the abdomen whilst the rodian took a hit to his shoulder. Both of them were now sprawled on the floor. She muttered an uneasy curse as she realised what was in store for her.

The effort of breathing and opening your eyes after each blink got tougher to maintain but you recognised the familiar tender touch under your chin from the man in kneeling in front of you. “Hunter.” You said, your voice barely sounding above a whisper. Your eyes flickered open as you took him in.

Hunter wiped away the blood from your face, but it just kept coming, the sight of it heightening his persistent rising panic but he pushed it away. It wouldn’t help you if he let you see how ruined with worry, he was. “We’re getting you out of here, I promise.” He started to lift you to your feet, uttering soft words of comfort and reassurance as you went with him but each rasp and pained whimper from you only fuelled his anger further. “Hold on. Just hold on.” He begged you quietly.

“I’ve got her, Hunter.” Wrecker offered softly as he came to your side and took over. “Hang in there.” He said to you, his gruff voice choking up with emotion as he took your weight and saw the way your face was drained of all life, the blood standing out too brightly against your skin.

Hunter waited until Wrecker was properly supporting you before he turned on the three adversaries. He ignored Cid for the moment, he’d deal with her last. Right now, his priority was getting your cure and for that, he needed the two hunters.

He did a quick scan of the two males, the twilek was gritting his teeth against the pain and his face was a cruel mask of indifference but the rodian was a mewling mess and his heart was pounding so loudly, Hunter had heard it from upstairs which meant that the rodian was his way in.

“Tell me what you did to her.” His voice quiet with lethal softness as he stalked towards him.  

But the rodian said nothing.  

“Fine.” With that, he stabbed the rodian just above the knee and angled to tip of the blade towards his kneecap and pushed. He also clamped his other hand down on the open shoulder wound and paid no attention to the miserable screams that emitted from the rodian.

Crosshair and Wrecker made no move to stop it either. Wrecker kept you propped up while Crosshair kept his rifle trained on the twilek and Echo guarded Cid.

“Fuck! Oh fuck, no!” The rodian yelled as he writhed in an attempt to get away from the blade, but each movement only caused the blade to twist further into his joint.

“What did you do?” Hunter demanded again through the cries of pain. With both hands, he pressed harder.

The rodian spoke through the pain in a rapid, terrified manner, “I’ll tell you everything! I- shit, just don’t do that anymore! It’s called Ghost. I c- created it. We put the powder in her water flask and coated her pain pills in it and spiked her sedatives with the liquid form! It- ow fuck- it can’t be picked up on any medical scans and it’s got no taste or smell but it’s fatal when used excessively. Its main use is torture and incapacitation but for that, it needs to be used precisely. That’s all we wanted to do with her! I swear! But what I calculated for her didn’t work so we upped the dose, but it was too much too quickly. I don’t know how she’s still going.”

Wrecker, Crosshair and Echo had to fight to keep their expressions neutral, but that information shook them all to their core. They’d helped this plan along and the thought left them repulsed.

The horror Hunter felt at the fact that they’d all inadvertently been contributing to your declining health threatened to engulf him. He caught himself easing up on the rodian in the pure gut-wrenching shock of it all, but he gathered himself swiftly. “But there’s a cure.” Hunter insisted, angling his blade further towards the knee.

The rodian yelped in agony. “Yes, there’s- ah fuck- there’s- a- an- an antitode!”

“Shut up!” The twilek hissed command earning him a rifle butt to his face. His nose cracked and blood poured down.

“No way! This shit wasn’t what I signed up for!”

Hunter eased up on his pressure slightly to lure him into revealing more.

“Here, take it, take it.” The rodian winced as he reached into his inside vest pocket and took the piece of paper out- it had been the one critical piece of information he had the wits to remember to remove when they’d left the island- but now he wanted it as far away from him as possible. He felt momentarily relief as the man removed his vice-like grip on his shoulder but that was swiftly replaced by fear as he saw a blaster pointed at his face. “No, please don’t! I promise I won’t tell-”

Hunter killed the rodian with a shot to the forehead. “Get that to information to Tech.” He ordered Echo sharply who took the paper with a nod and swiftly left the room.

Hunter fired two shots into Cid’s knees as she attempted to slip away once Echo departed.

Cid crashed to the ground, hissing in pain.

Your slumped form addressed the other hunter who was still alive. “You two were slipping poison into my system for 3 weeks… didn’t you have anything better to do with your lives?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

You, still delirious, mimed applause. “Yup, it did. Extra points for you. Although you’re 30 seconds away from death and I still have a good hour so who’s the real winner here?”

The twilek saw the tattooed solider stalking darkly towards him. He wasn’t going to die begging for his life like his rodian counterpart, he’d done something others could only dream of. “And you’re more than three hours away from Pabu. We beat you, you’re as good as-”

Hunter silenced his words with a single shot of his blaster.

You felt your legs completely give out with the effort it took to remain vertical.

Wrecker, unfortunately had to ignore your moans of since he was left with no choice but to strengthen the grip that he had on you. He didn’t even need to have Hunter’s enhanced senses to see how grave your situation was now. He could barely feel your breaths leaving your body and each time he wiped away the blood, more continued to pour down.

Hunter heard your weak cries of protest, and he turned his attention to the pathetic excuse of an individual crawling on her front away from him, blood streaking the floor from the wounds in her knees. No matter how much he wanted to make this hurt, you were the priority here. He caught up with her is a couple steps, stamped down on her back before he roughly turned her around and replaced his foot harshly on her chest.

Cid couldn’t run. She couldn’t fight. But she knew fine well what was in store for her. “Look, bandana, it was just a bad business deal, okay? I didn’t know they were doing to use so much. You’ve got the antidote, just take it and get her the help she needs.” She said tightly through the pain.

Her words filled him with pure disgust, and he couldn’t stand to hear them anymore. With her out of the picture, it would finally all be over. The constant threat of her wouldn’t plague them anymore.

“You betrayed us three times. You don’t get a fourth.” Hunter said, his voice steely with quiet and controlled rage.

“It wasn’t personal, it was a business deal. I’m sure-”

Hunter cut her off with a shot to her face. He holstered his blaster.

“Move out.” He directed as he came to your opposite side and aided Wrecker in keeping you upright so you wouldn’t choke on the blood gushing from your nose.

--

Wrecker passed you fully off to Hunter as you all entered the ship, and he joined his two other brothers in the cockpit.

Hunter laid you down carefully on the cot, angling your head so you wouldn’t gag on the blood continuing to flow from your nose. He held one cloth over your nose in what he knew was a futile attempt to stem the blood flow before he also grabbed a cold cloth and dabbed at your forehead. Your skin was on fire, your clothes soaked through with sweat and even blinking seemed to be a monumental effort for you. “Hold on. It’s just a little bit longer, okay?” Hunter told you, his voice quivering as he helplessly watched you. It seemed like even breathing was a burden for you now.

You couldn’t even nod. Another shallow breath shuddered through you.

--

Echo had gotten the ship into hyperspace and Tech back on comms. “Tech, we’re heading back. Did you get anything more on the poison?”

“Unfortunately, not more than what you’ve already told me given that it was not on any official record. But I read through what we uncovered in the home. One thing to be thankful for is that, if the instructions we’d already found are accurate, there’s still time. The final stage involved bleeding from bodily orifices. If-”

“She’s bleeding from her nose.” Crosshair interrupted.

Tech’s eyes flashed with alarm. “When did that start?” He asked, his voice grave.

“Can’t be certain but she was bleeding before we got there.” Echo told him, his own nerves rising as he saw Tech’s expression.

“Tech?” Wrecker prompted; he hated the prolonged silence as Tech glanced at his datapad. “What does that mean for her?”

“Omega and I have gathered most of what is needed for the antidote here, but we’re taking Phee’s ship to go to the neighbouring planet to get the final plants required.” Tech said instead.

“That’s not an answer.” Crosshair said, his voice tense.

“The answer wouldn’t do any of you any good. Just get her to Dalia the second you land. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

As he disappeared. Echo, Wrecker and Crosshair looked down the hallway to where Hunter was crouched by your side.

“We can’t have been too late, we can’t have been.” Wrecker fretted.

“She’s survived this long. She can do it.” Echo said but it was more to convince himself than anyone else.

“I don’t know how much she has left to give.” Crosshair said, his own worries seeping through as he watched your chest barely rise.

You were already living for longer than you were supposed to but none of them knew how much more of that you could sustain.

--

Hunter had heard the words from the cockpit, but he refused to let them resonate. “I’ve got it.” He said gently as he saw you attempting to take the rapidly growing blood-stained fabric off your face. He removed it, threw it away and made to grab a new one but your gravelly voice stopped him.

“H-Hu-Hunter.”

“Don’t- don’t try to talk.” Hunter advised, swallowing thickly. “Save your energy.”

You didn’t listen and just about managed to make your eyes focus on him. “I- I hav- have to tell you-” You gasped through pained breaths.

“Tell me when you’re better.” Hunter instructed, hoping he sounded like himself even as he felt his own distress rise in his chest, in his throat. He couldn’t stand this, but he needed to stay strong for you.

“I’m not-” You broke off with a sharp, hurt whimper. “I- I’m not getting better.” You could feel your body giving up with every ineffective, weighed down breath.

“Yes. You are.” Hunter took your hand and pressed your fingers to his lips.

“I-I want you- t-to-know that- that I love you.”

“Stop-” Hunter his voice growing hoarser and more wrecked with emotion with every passing second.

“I- I want you-you to move on- I want you to-to live.”

Hunter stroked hair back from your burning brow. “I can’t do that without you.” He whispered but he could from the distant look in your eyes tell that his words weren’t landing as the fever had ultimately taken its deadly grip.

“I- I would’ve married you.”

“You still will.” Hunter said as firmly as he could manage but it required pushing away more doubt than he cared to admit.

“I…” But you trailed off as you finally welcomed what you had been resisting for so long.

“Keep your eyes open. Please.” Hunter pleaded, his voice breaking as he saw you take one deep, crackling breath as you slowly blinked.

You wanted to. You wanted to so badly, but you felt like the end would be the only thing to give you any semblance of relief. Your eyes flickered shut and darkness took over.

Hunter hung his head and held your hand tightly, and he could only watch your signs of life slowly fade away. “Stay with me.��� He begged your unconscious form through a strangled breath as he hoped some part of you would register his words.

Your pulse was thready at best, your breathing ragged and shallow.

Your entire body was shutting down and there was nothing Hunter could do to stop it.

--

Thanks to Tech’s efforts, Dalia’s home had extended and doubled into a well-functioning medical centre with enough beds and equipment to cope with whatever came her or the island’s way. It had felt a bit excessive, but it was better to be safe than sorry, and today, that was good thing.

“Put her here!” Dalia ordered as Echo slammed open the door for Hunter and Wrecker to hurry through, your body hanging weightlessly between their arms. “AZ, prep her and check her vitals.”

“Where’s Tech?” Hunter asked urgently as he placed you on the hospital bed.

“I don’t know. He should’ve been back by now.” Dalia said as she got a cooling blanket for you as AZ worked on stopping the bleeding before she gathered up the part of the cure that was already made up. She’d barely finished her sentence when Tech came sprinting through the door.

Tech stopped short when he saw the perilous state you were in but recovered quickly. He handed the final components over before he made to depart but stopped as he realised that his brother was making no move to do so.

“Hunter-” Tech tried to reach and take a hold of his arm, but Hunter shook him off.

Wrecker made to do the same but got the same result.  

“Hunter, you need to leave.” Dalia insisted as she busied about prepping the antidote whilst AZ continued doing what he could to stabilise you.

“I can’t.” He croaked; his voice barely audible as he stared at your practically lifeless body. He needed to know that you’d be okay, he couldn’t leave you like this.

“If you want her to live, you need to let me work and I can’t do that with you here.” Dalia said bluntly. She cared for all of them and hated seeing this happen but there wasn’t time to be gentle, you were barely hanging on and your health outweighed politeness.

Tech nodded to Wrecker to leave first before he turned his attention to his unmoving older brother. Tech understood Hunter’s reluctance and he too found himself not wanting to leave until he knew you were at least stable, but he was just about clear-headed enough to realise their presence was a hindrance. “Come on, Hunter.” Tech tried again and this time, Hunter let him take a hold of his upper arm to guide him out.

Hunter could barely move his feet- Tech was doing most of the work for him. He saw the concerned faces of his squad staring past him into the room but as he turned around to get one last look at you, the door shut.

The door shut on him but not before he heard it.

He heard the sound that was going to haunt him for the rest of his days. The low drone of the machine chilled his body to the bone and his knees collapsed out from under him. If it wasn’t for Wrecker’s firm grip on his shoulders, he would’ve just crumpled to the floor.  

Hunter wasn’t a medical expert, but he knew what a flatline sounded like.

--

What was complete devastation was soon replaced by raw, unbridled desperation. It swallowed him whole as he thrashed against Wrecker’s grip on him in his fight to re-enter that door.

“Hunter, stop, stop.” Omega managed to dart in front of him and take a hold of his hands. “You’ve done all you can. Fighting won’t help her or you.” She did her best to soothe him or at least get him to stop struggling against Wrecker’s hold.

The best Hunter could do was let her words and touch stop his insistence to get back to you, but he was practically hyperventilating. Cid had put them through a lot, but this had affected him in a different, more visceral way. The cruelty of everything she’d planned out and attempted to execute cut him to his core. “I did this.” He said in quiet horror and that admission opened the dam.

Once Hunter eased up, Wrecker released his hold, but he remained close by just in case. “This wasn’t your fault.”

Hunter lost all emotional control. “I should have stopped this!”

They’d all been anticipating this and knew Hunter needed them now. He’d kept it together for as long as he physically could but what they felt when they heard that flatline, he would be feeling ten times over.

“No, you couldn’t have. None of us knew what this was.” Tech reminded him.

Hunter’s panic and anger were leaving him unrestrained now. He couldn’t stop. “I watched her drink from that glass the night of the party, and I didn’t notice! I just watched it happen and did nothing! What good am I if my mutation can’t even protect the people around me!”

“It was impossible to trace. There was a reason your enhanced senses couldn’t detect this; it was inherently designed against them.” Tech emphasised.

He couldn’t handle the logic right now. It didn’t matter. All he knew was what had happened to get you here and what’d he’d failed to protect you from. “I was killing her, Tech! Every day I gave her that damn flask, forced her to take those injections and painkillers, I was killing her!”

“No. The poison was.” Echo interjected.

“Which I was only helping along! Cid might as well have hired me for the fucking job! She kept telling me that she didn’t want them but took them because she was doing it for me!”

“Hunter, you didn’t know.” Omega tried again but the clone only shook his head in harsh self-deprecating dismissal of her words.

“I should have! I-”

“And if you’re going to blame yourself for doing what you naturally thought was the only way to help her, then blame all of us because every single one of us did that.” Crosshair said bluntly but he was only speaking as frankly as he was because he knew his brother would never assign that blame to them and he needed Hunter to hear how ridiculous and pointless it was to put something like this on himself.

That felt like a punch to the gut, and it took the remaining fight out of him. But he welcomed it. The last thing he’d do would be and he could hear your voice in his head telling him to see the bigger picture here. “I know you’d never-” He broke off and tried again. “That wasn’t what I meant. I know it wasn’t your fault.”

“And it’s not yours.” Wrecker echoed again as he moved to now rest a solid, calming hand on his brother’s shoulder like he’d done in the months post the disaster of Ord Mantell.

Hunter took a deep, grounding breath, before he nodded to Wrecker to indicate that he wasn’t going to do anything foolish. He stayed standing whilst his family sat in the waiting area chairs.

Now, all they could do was wait.

--

Hunter was on step 864 when he ceased his nervous pacing a half second before the door finally opened.

The others all got out of their chairs once they “How is her condition?” Tech questioned the healer.

Dalia inhaled deeply. “She’s alive.”

Hunter couldn’t help but think there was a silent ‘for now’ that was in amongst Dalia’s tone. He’d been all too aware of what was happening behind that closed door. The announcement hardly brought him solace. There was only a slight easing to his churning stomach and frantic heartbeat as he waited for her to get to the crux of what she had to say.

“Can we see her?” Wrecker inquired.

Dalia hesitated before replying, “I would wait.”

“Why?” Crosshair asked warily.

“She flatlined three times but we got her back. However, she’s not awake yet.”

Hunter choked on a breath as she confirmed what he feared he’d heard again throughout the day.

“Not awake?” Echo repeated.  

“But she will wake up, right?” Omega asked anxiously. “You gave her the cure, so she’ll be okay, won’t she?”

Dalia slowly elaborated on what she meant, “It’s possible that with the toil the poison took on her and with the amount of strain on her body... well, I just don’t know if she’ll wake up. AZ and I going to monitor her for changes, but I’d suggest going home until you hear from me.”

“That’s not happening.” Hunter rasped, but there was no mistaking the intensity behind his words.

“Hunter-” Dalia started.

“We’re staying here.” Crosshair said, backing up Hunter’s statement with his brothers nodding their agreement too.

“I don’t know how long it’ll be before we know anything more.” Dalia said truthfully.

“We’ll wait.” Tech said firmly.

Seeing that she wasn’t going to change their minds, and she didn’t really expect to anyway, Dalia bowed her head. “Very well.” She said before she walked back into the room.

--

The hours ticked by painfully slowly.

Then the hours turned into the next day.

And the next.

Shep, Lyra and Phee had periodically come by both to check in and to bring food and blankets since it was obvious that none of them would leave until they knew your fate.

“Any updates, brown eyes?” Phee asked, laying a caring hand on Tech’s shoulder.

Tech rested his hand on top of hers. “It’s still touch and go.”

“And how’s he?” Lyra inquired with a nod in Hunter’s direction but all she got were a series of uneasy looks.

“As far as we’re aware, he hasn’t slept or eaten.” Echo said worriedly.

“Nothing? Can I bring something else? He should eat something.” Shep offered.

“We’ve tried. He won’t take anything.” Wrecker replied, voice rough with tiredness and emotion.

“I’ve got it.” Omega said as she came over and took two of the prepackaged meals.

--

“I brought you some food.” Omega said delicately as she approached Hunter who looked utterly exhausted.

“I’m not hungry.” Hunter said gruffly.

“Eat.” Omega ordered more insistently this time.

“Omega…” Hunter just shook his head.

“She’s going to make it. And you’ll need your strength to see her once she’s up. You know it’s true. So, eat.” She instructed again.

Hunter took the plate with a tired sigh and allowed the young girl to rest her head against his shoulder as the two of them ate and sat in the closest thing to relaxed silence he’d experienced since coming back.

--

Nightfall had arrived on the third day and there was still no word.

The others had all been in and out of restless naps as they waited.

The only thing keeping Hunter mildly calm was the young girl whose head was currently resting in his lap as she slept. Her soft, regular sleepy sighs allowed him some form of meditative relief as he sat there waiting for news. He adjusted the blanket as it slipped down her shoulders.

Another 15 minutes passed before Hunter heard signs of life making for the door. And his head snapped up as Dalia and AZ walked into the waiting area.

The rest of them instantly got to their feet.

Hunter gently roused Omega from his lap as they both stood, and he could hear his own anxious heartbeat in his ears.

Until now, AZ had been the one to give them sporadic updates. If Dalia was out here, that only meant one of two things…

“She’s awake.” Dalia said through a weary but delighted sigh.

Hunter braced his elbows against his knees. He covered his face with his hands and inhaled and exhaled shakily as he resisted the urge to release a relieved sob.

There was a collective breath realised as they all heard her say those words.

“Thank you, Dalia.” Hunter just about managed to say as the crushing weight of his stress and worries lifted from his shoulders, and he felt strangely disconnected from every other sensation in his body as he fully comprehended that you were safe… that you were alive.

“She’s asking for you.” Dalia said, squeezing his shoulder.

As Hunter steadily walked towards the door, some part of him felt like maybe this was all a cruel dream and he’d wake up back in that waiting area to find that you were gone. That thought soon vanished as he saw you gingerly sitting up in the hospital bed.

--

“Hey.” You said with a real but still weak and tired smile as you saw him standing there.  

A strangled yet elated noise left his lips as he heard you speak.

“Yeah, I know I don’t look too hot right now.” You said with faint tracings of humour. But as you fully took him in, you realised that wasn’t what you needed to do.  

He wasn’t ready for that yet. Everything to too fresh, too intense for him to let this become something to joke about. He caught sight of you old, bloodstained clothing and all the emotions he’d been suppressing came to a head. “I never should’ve left you.”

“You weren’t to know.” You said as you realised you didn’t need to put on that front you had been prepared to maintain. You allowed your voice to soften, and you relaxed further into the bed as you no longer felt the need to act like you could just jump out of the cot. “But you got me out and back here in time.”

“No, I didn’t.” Hunter said with self-directed frustration. “You died.”

Dalia had filled you in on what had happened, but you didn’t know the extent to which he’d been around for that but now your own tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you realised what he’d had to go through. You knew how you’d be if you’d been in his position and it was something you could hardly bare to imagine so, for him to have witnessed what he did, it was no wonder you could sense his fear tearing him apart. “Hunter-”

“It’s a rare thing for me to feel as helpless as I have these past weeks, especially on that ship departing Asusto. It was a new kind of terror. I’ve always known at least something to do, but I couldn’t do anything to help cure you. Taking care of Cid was the last thing I could do for you and for the safety of this family.” He inhaled shakily, “But then I had to watch the poison destroy you and I couldn’t do anything.” Tears were running down his face, but he didn’t care. “You knew you were going to die, you told me as much on the ship. You told me to live, to move on. I heard each flatline. I heard you get ripped away from me time and time again, and I couldn’t take it. Each time I thought you wouldn’t fight your way back, a part of me died out there and if Dalia had come out there to tell us you were gone, that part of me wouldn’t ever come back. I’d exist but I wouldn’t live. Don’t ask me to move on because I can’t, I love you with all I have. You’re the other half of me and if you are ever taken from me like that again, that half goes with you.” He finished with a breath that was half exhale, half sob.

You wiped away a few of your own tears at his words. “Come here.” You whispered as you reached for him- for your other half- and moved to the other side of the narrow cot. “And it’s not going to hurt me.” You added in reassurance since you knew that’s where his concerns would instantly go.

Hunter swallowed through the lump in his throat and finally moved towards you and shifted into the bed.

You kissed away the salty tears on his cheeks and rested his head on your chest. You felt a little pressure at the action, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. “Hear that? I’m still here.”

Hunter closed his eyes as he listened to the thudding that emitted from your chest. It still wasn’t as strong as it usually was, but it was there, and it was steady and that’s what mattered.

You delicately stroked your hands through his hair as you rested there. You focused on his warmth, his weight on your chest, and you’d never felt more content. You felt your spark coming back with each breath and so long as he was still with you, everything else now would fall into place.

--

Upon hearing rising voices and footsteps, Hunter had just sat back down in the chair by your bedside, when Dalia re-entered with AZ whirring behind her.

“What the status?” You asked the healer as you also heard the faint sounds of protests behind the shut door.

“With you or the insistent group outside?”

You chuckled quietly, “Why don’t we start with me?”

“I want you to stay here for at least a week. We need to get you rehydrated and start reintroducing food into your system and I want to give you one more dose of the antidote to make sure all the poison is out of your body. Does that sound acceptable? Bearing in mind that I know how you are, but I will really only take one answer.”

You laughed at that, “Yes, that sounds good, Doc.”

“Now, there is a rather eager group of people out there and I don’t know how much longer they’re prepared to listen to me telling them not yet. Can-” She got cut off by the door opening.

“The answer was not very.” Echo said apologetically as they all entered.

“Oh, for goodness sake…” Dalia muttered.

“Five minutes?” You requested with delicate politeness.

“Okay, fine but I draw the line at the dog.” Dalia said with a roll of her eyes as Batcher went of her hind legs and placed her front paws on the bed by your feet.

Omega whistled and hustled Batcher out of the room before she rejoined her brothers.

“Five minutes.” Dalia reminded you as she and AZ made to give you privacy.

“Dalia, I don’t even know how to thank you. I-” You began to say as the healer walked away.

“Don’t waste your precious time now.” Dalia said but she bowed her head in acknowledgment of your words before she shut the door.

“And I also believe I owe you all a rather large thank you.” You said appreciatively.

“Don’t mention it.” Echo stated with a smile as he gave you a happy squeeze.

“Just don’t scare us like that again.” Wrecker implored as he took his turn.

“Trust me, that will not be something I am looking to re-experience.” You said agreeably.

“I should hope not.” Hunter muttered as he kept a tender yet secure hold of your free hand, his fingers finding a natural place resting on your pulse as a way to ground himself in this moment and remind himself that it was real.

Tech studied the screens next to you and tapped at his datapad. “Your condition has stabilised considerably. I would agree with Dalia’s recommendation for a course of-”

“Hey, no staring at my vitals or talking about my health until you give me hug.” You just about managed to hold your arm open expectantly but it was a rather pitiful attempt since you were still feeling pretty weak, but the resultant pathetic appearance probably aided your request.

“Very well.” Tech said through a sigh, but his brief embrace was heartfelt and warm.

“You know, if you wanted out of the engagement, there are easier ways to go about it.” Crosshair quipped as he came in last, but the relief was evident in his face.

“Ha ha.” You drawled sarcastically as you accepted his hug too.

“How are you feeling?” Omega asked and she placed her arms around you.

“Exhausted and still a little sore but alive which seems to be a bit of a surprise.” You said lightly.

“A bit?” Echo repeated with a shake of his head.

“Keeping you on your toes, Echo. That’s me.” You kidded.

There was a combined reaction of eyerolls and heads shaking in disbelief.

“And hey, we gotta find the silver-linings of this whole thing eventually. If you guys hadn’t left me that night, I wouldn’t have gotten the antidote. We’d never have figured it out.” You reminded them, absentmindedly stroking your thumb along the back of Hunter’s hand.

“I knew you were going to say that.” Hunter murmured, the tracings of a smile in his tone.

At that, you angled yourself to face Hunter once more. “I’m also really hoping you have something of mine?” You asked quietly as they all stood around the bottom of the bed.

Hunter kissed your forehead and finally allowed a proper smile as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. “Do you want the speech again? Cause I have a few amendments.”

“Tell me tomorrow.” You said with a loving grin in his direction.

Hunter gently took your left-hand in his. “You know this is forever, right?” He murmured.

“I do.” You breathed in joyous relief as the ring slid back onto your finger.

Hunter pressed his forehead against yours in and nuzzled into the side of your face as he kissed your cheek.

All of you silently absorbed the moment that finally, finally your new lives could begin.

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Taglist: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @notgonnaedit, @moonychicky, @arctrooper69, @dizzy-9906 , @nightmonkeysstuff , @allthingsimagines , @thegreymarveljedi , @jellybeanstacey0519 , @callsign-denmark , @superbookishhufflepuff , @qvnthesia , @justsomerandompersonintheworld

[virgoilluminati]

Hospitality at its Finest

a Jude Bellingham oneshot

Inspo: Basically i have the shittiest job ever, and the only thing that got me through it was thinking about how jude would comfort me at the end of a long shift. I feel like a lot of you gurlies can relate so enjoy ☺️

You had had the worst day.

Probably the worst day you'd had in years

And the only person you could blame was your boss.

He was an A grade arsehole. He only cared about how much money your restaurant made. How it made him look in front of the restaurant owners.

He didn't care about your feelings, how crying had become a normal part of the shift or how every time he walked in, your stomach tied in knots.

Today was an exemplar of it.

At the beginning of the shift, everything was fairly normal. You were supposed to start at 12pm, but you had come in early, caring for your colleagues and knowing that they would need the extra staff for the new delivery. As you mentally prepared yourself for the shift, you started putting away the new stock and organizing the kitchen.

Quickly looking at your phone one last time, you clocked into work before admiring your lock screen with Jude. After all, all of this was for your future.

As you made your way to the shop floor, it was dead silent. So silent that you knew the second you opened the door in the backroom, you'd be greeted with a mess. But you didn't expect what you were greeted with. Stacks of dishes towered precariously, remnants of ingredients sprawled across counters, and an unmistakable odor of burnt food lingered heavily in the air.

Your closest colleague Haley was on the ground, covered by stock boxes. When she see's you walk in, she smiles, but the exhaustion in her eyes betrays her forced cheerfulness. Without wasting a moment, you rush to help her up, setting the boxes aside.

"Wha-"

"Don't ask. It's Jamie. He overestimated our multitasking skills again. We could use all the help we can get right now."

You nod, taking in the chaotic scene. Rolling up your sleeves, you dive into the mess, prioritizing tasks in your head.

The second the doors to your restaurant opened, a wave of eager customers flooded in, adding to the already hefty workload. You had only just made your way out of the heavy stock room before you were serving your first customer, your manager already shaking his head.

You grabbed a notepad, scribbling down order after order with precision. As you do such, you realise that no one has set up back of house, and whilst everyone was dealing with the stock, you'd be doing both positions, already.

Oh gawd it was going to be a long day.

The next issues happened just after the lunchtime peak. Your manager—ever the perfectionist—decided to go out and back home to get changed. He didn’t tell any of you, just putting your colleague Hetty in charge.

Now, for all of the reasons you loved Hetty, she was a terrible team leader. She spent half of the time bossing everyone around, whilst the other half chatting and gossiping about the managers. So when you realized that she was in charge, you knew it was going to turn sideways.

What made it even worse was halfway through the shift you suddenly got cramps. It could only mean one thing: your period.

You knew better than to miss your orders, so you managed to deal with the cramps and act normal. But as soon as anyone’s order was mentioned, you gritted your teeth. Deep down, you could feel your cramps churning up. But you managed to keep your cool. Or at least until Hetty began barking orders at you, telling you that while you were making a cheesecake, you also needed to clean the station, get the ice cream ready for service, and get the lunch menu ready that was just coming out.

Needless to say, you didn’t really listen to her orders, instead focusing on the four cheesecakes you needed to bake, twenty lusty turkeys, and the rest of your workload that’s coming in. You’d maybe gotten halfway done with the orders when suddenly your stomach muscles tightened and spasmed at the same time. It hurt to breathe in, so you tried to breathe in as slowly as possible, praying to God that the next person who insulted you would take it back as soon as they said it.

Now, you’re screwed, because between the pain in your stomach and the pressure from the customers, it was overwhelming. To make matters even worse, your restaurant owner Jiah, a certified misogynist, stood next to you as you prepared each of the dishes. Every mistake you made, or anything you said to Hetty, was being monitored. At first, it was fine—still stressful, but you were so preoccupied that you didn’t care. Until you accidentally spilled three of your cheesecakes on the ground.

Every time someone shouted at you, it felt like someone was digging into your sides. Your vision blurred slightly as you bent down to clean up the mess. As you rose, you saw Jiah’s disapproving glare. You braced yourself, knowing a reprimand was imminent.

“Do you even know how much those cheesecakes cost?” Jiah hissed, his face reddening.

"Sorry-"

You nodded, biting your tongue to keep from snapping back. Losing your temper wouldn’t help anything, especially not with Jiah watching your every move. Taking a deep breath, you focused on the tasks at hand, prioritizing the most urgent ones. Hetty’s voice cut through the noise of the kitchen, but you tuned her out as best you could. There was no time to waste arguing with her or explaining why you couldn’t drop everything to clean the station right this second.

The cramps were relentless, and you clutched your stomach briefly, willing the pain to subside. A few of your colleagues noticed and offered sympathetic looks, but they were just as swamped as you were. It was clear that everyone was feeling the strain of the lunchtime rush.

You managed to get the cheesecakes into the oven and started on the turkeys. The repetitive motions of seasoning and prepping gave you a momentary distraction from the pain. But it wasn’t long before Hetty was back, barking orders again.

“You still haven’t cleaned the station! And where’s the ice cream?” she demanded.

“Working on it,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. But the frustration was building, and you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You blinked them back, determined not to let anyone see you break down.

Finally, a small reprieve: the cheesecakes were done, and you could focus on plating the desserts and getting them out to the customers. But just as you thought you might be able to catch your breath, Jiah appeared again. He didn’t say anything, but his disapproving glare spoke volumes.

You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. When you accidentally spilled three of your cheesecakes on the ground, Jiah’s look was withering. He didn’t need to say a word; his expression made it clear he was counting this as yet another mark against you.

“Get it together,” you heard him mutter under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. You nodded, biting your tongue to keep from snapping back. Losing your temper wouldn’t help anything, especially not with Jiah watching your every move.

Taking a deep breath, you focused on the tasks at hand, prioritizing the most urgent ones. Hetty’s voice cut through the noise of the kitchen, but you tuned her out as best you could. There was no time to waste arguing with her or explaining why you couldn’t drop everything to clean the station right this second.

Just as it began to calm down again, Jiah's glare disappearing from notion, Hetty came over to apologize for being stressy.

"Sorry for earlier," she said, her tone uncharacteristically soft. "I know I was a bit much."

You accepted her apology with a nod. "It's okay. We were all under a lot of pressure. I was just about to go to the toilet."

Before you could make your way to the restroom, a call came through the kitchen, telling everyone to gather in the staff room. You tried to hold yourself together, though you could feel tears threatening to flow. The cramps were still gnawing at your insides, and the stress of the day had worn you thin.

As you and the rest of the staff assembled in the cramped room, the air was thick with apprehension. Jamie, another manager, stormed in, his face a mask of fury. He didn't waste a second before launching into a tirade.

"I just got a bollocking from the owner! What the hell happened here?" he bellowed. "This is so embarrassing! We've had multiple complaints from customers, dishes sent back, and unacceptable delays. This is not the standard we uphold here!"

His words were like blows, each one landing heavily. You stood there, silent and still, trying to absorb it all without breaking down. The cramps were relentless, making it hard to concentrate on anything other than the pain.

For about forty minutes, Jamie continued his verbal assault, highlighting every mistake and misstep. You could feel the tension in the room, everyone too afraid to speak or move. As he yelled, you just stood there, taking it in, feeling smaller and more defeated with every passing second.

"This has to stop now," Jamie continued, his voice growing louder. "I expect better from all of you. No more excuses. The owner is furious, and honestly, I can't blame him. Today was a disaster!"

With that, he stormed out, leaving the staff in stunned silence. You could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but you fought to keep them at bay. The pain in your stomach and the weight of Jamie's words were almost too much to bear.

Hetty gave you a sympathetic look but didn't say anything. Everyone slowly dispersed, heading back to their stations or taking a moment to collect themselves. You made a beeline for the restroom, finally letting the tears flow once you were safely behind the closed door.

Just as you began to take a couple of minutes to calm down, Jamie pulled you over.

"Hey, I need to ask you something," he said, his tone softer but still urgent. "Are you willing to leave early today?"

You had already had to cut a shift recently, and your hours were pretty low. "I really need the hours, Jamie. I'd prefer to stay."

He frowned. "I need to get rid of some staff because there's too many on right now."

You tried to politely refuse again, but before you could finish, he called out, "Hayley! Do you want to leave early?"

"Sure," Hayley replied without hesitation.

"See, it's not personal," Jamie said, turning back to you. Feeling completely deflated, you turned to get your stuff and clock out.

As you gathered your things, Jamie turned to you one more time. "By the way, you sat down too much today."

You were gobsmacked. "I didn't sit down at all."

"No, you were," he insisted. "And that's not acceptable."

You went to protest again, but he cut you off. "No, you were, and that's not acceptable."

Feeling a mix of frustration, exhaustion, and defeat, you bit back any further response. As you clocked out and walked out of the restaurant, you felt the tears begin to well up again.

By the time you got on the bus, the tears were streaming down your face. You found a seat at the back, hoping no one would notice as you buried your face in your hands and sobbed. The day's events replayed in your mind: the stress, the pain, the unfairness of it all. It felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on you, and you couldn't hold it in any longer.

As the bus moved through the city streets, you cried, letting out all the frustration and sorrow. You knew you had to face another day tomorrow, but for now, all you could do was let yourself feel the pain and hope that somehow, things would get better.

When you arrived home, you tried to wipe away your tears, determined to put on a brave face for Jude Bellingham, who had just returned from football camp. You were emotionally drained but wanted to be supportive and positive for him.

As you walked through the door, Jude was in the kitchen, looking relaxed and cheerful. He noticed your subdued demeanor but decided to wait before saying anything.

"Hey, how was work?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

"It was... busy," you replied, forcing a smile. "But let’s not focus on that. How was camp?"

Jude’s face lit up as he started recounting his experiences. "Camp was fantastic! We had some intense training sessions and a lot of fun. You won’t believe the prank Trent and I pulled on the new guys. We got them to believe they had to complete this ridiculous obstacle course to join the team."

He continued with animated enthusiasm, "And then there was the friendly match against a local team. Trent and I were trying out these new moves, and it was amazing to see the crowd’s reaction. We felt like rock stars!"

You nodded and smiled at the right moments, trying to engage with his excitement, but your mind kept drifting back to the stress of the day. Despite your efforts to seem interested, you felt a growing sense of overwhelm.

Jude’s stories flowed effortlessly. "Oh, and the camp mascot incident was hilarious. Trent and I ended up in the costume, and we had this impromptu dance-off with the kids. It was one of those moments where you just can’t stop laughing."

As he chatted, you found yourself struggling to keep up the façade. Your responses became more mechanical, and you occasionally glanced at the clock, feeling the weight of your exhausting day pressing down on you.

Jude seemed to sense something was off but kept going. "You know, I was telling Trent about how you and I used to go to that little café downtown. He said he’s been there before and loved it. We should go sometime."

You forced a laugh and nodded. "That sounds great."

As dinner preparation continued, you made an effort to stay present, but the stress from earlier was starting to take its toll. You kept insisting you were fine, even though you felt increasingly overwhelmed.

In the midst of this, you were preoccupied with trying to balance cooking and maintaining a cheerful demeanor. As you pulled a dish out of the oven, you accidentally brushed against the hot rack. The sudden sharp pain in your hand was like a jolt that broke through your emotional walls.

You cried out and rushed to the sink, holding your burned hand under the cold tap, your composure finally shattering. Tears streamed down your face as the pain seemed to trigger a flood of emotions from the stressful day.

Jude, who had been in the living room, heard your cry and the sound of your sobbing. He rushed into the kitchen and saw you with your hand under the tap, tears flowing freely.

"Hey, what happened?" Jude asked urgently, moving quickly to your side.

"I—I burned myself," you managed to say through sobs. "I’m so sorry... I tried to keep it together, but I couldn’t."

Jude gently took your hand from under the tap and inspected the burn. His concern deepened as he carefully wrapped your hand in a clean towel.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry, m’love. It’s okay—speak to me,” Jude said, his voice filled with concern as he moved to your side.

“What do you mean? I’m okay, I just burned myself,” you tried to explain, though your voice was trembling.

“Y/N, do you think I was born yesterday? I know my girlfriend, and I know when she’s upset. What happened?” Jude asked, his tone gentle but firm.

His insistence broke through your remaining resolve. You burst into tears, the emotional strain of the day combining with the pain of the burn. “I—I had such a terrible day. Jamie was so harsh, and everything seemed to go wrong. I was trying so hard to keep it together, but I just couldn’t anymore.”

Jude’s expression softened, filled with empathy and concern. “No, don’t say that. You’re not stupid. You’re my Y/N. You’ve been through so much, and you’ve handled it with so much strength and grace.”

He gently took your hand from under the tap and wrapped it in a clean towel. Pulling you into a comforting embrace, he continued, “Your a trooper you know.”

You clung to him, the warmth of his embrace providing a much-needed sense of security. Jude held you close, his arms wrapping around you with tenderness. He stroked your hair softly and whispered in your ear, “You’re amazing, you know that? You’re allowed to have bad days and to feel overwhelmed. I’m here to help you through it, no matter what.”

You buried your face in his shoulder, letting the tears flow freely as he continued to hold you. Jude’s soothing presence and gentle touch helped ease the burden of the day. He spoke softly, his voice full of love and reassurance. “You’ve been so strong, but it’s okay to let go and lean on me. I’m here to support you, to lift you up when you need it.”

Jude carefully wrapped your burned hand in a clean towel, his touch gentle but deliberate. He then pulled you into a comforting embrace. “Why don’t you head to the living room and take a breather? I’ll sort out dinner. And try not to make any more of the place look like a disaster zone, yeah?”

You managed a weak smile as you headed to the living room, still sniffling. The sounds of Jude bustling around in the kitchen—pots clattering, the hum of the stove—provided a bit of distraction as you settled onto the couch.

A few minutes later, Jude walked into the living room with his phone in hand and plopped down beside you. He placed his phone on the coffee table and began gently wiping away the tears from your cheeks.

“I don’t want anyone treating you like that,” Jude said firmly, but with a soft edge. “I’ve had a word with the higher-ups about Jamie. It’s not on.”

You looked at him, surprised. “You did? How’d you manage that?”

Jude grinned. “Let’s just say I’m good at sorting things out when it comes to my people."

You chuckled despite yourself. “Well, thanks. I didn’t think you’d go this far.”

Jude gave a cheeky wink. “I was gonna sort it anyway, oh, also, um well now seemed like the perfect time.”

"Jude-"

He pulled out his phone and showed you the screen. “I’ve had a chat with my agent. "

"What?!!"

"Got you a photography gig lined up. It’s something you’ve always wanted to do. Figured now’s as good a time as any.”

You were stunned, your eyes widening. “What-? How-When? How did you even know I wanted this now?”

Jude’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “I’ve been paying attention, love. You think i haven't notice your Pinterest boards? Or your amazon wish list?”

You laughed, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “I don’t even know what to say. This is amazing.”

Jude squeezed your hand gently. “You don’t have to say a thing. Just remember, you’re brilliant, and you deserve all the good things. And if you ever leave me for a glamorous photographer life, just make sure to give me a shout-out in your interviews.”

You playfully nudged him. “Oh, so you’re worried I’ll become too famous for you?”

Jude grinned. "If that means sharing a bit of the limelight, so be it.”

You leaned into him, feeling a mix of relief and affection. “I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

Jude wrapped his arms around you. “I’m the lucky one. Seeing you happy is what matters to me. Now let’s enjoy the rest of the night. And if dinner turns into a burnt mess, at least we’ll have a laugh about it.”

Jude’s comforting presence and playful banter started to lift the weight of the day, bringing a renewed sense of hope and connection. His support and Brummie humor made the evening feel a lot brighter and more manageable.

[randomshyperson]

Easy Spider - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Spider-Reader returns from the classic mission of stopping a moving train. Her girlfriend is not very happy to know the reason for the injuries. | Prompts Challenges.

Warnings: Some make out, but pure fluff with really brief arguing, trauma mentions, established relationship. | Words: 1.288k

A/N-> Me, forgetting to post? Don't know what you're talking about. Surprisingly, this one was ready before the second Spider-Verse was released. I haven't been able to see the movie yet, but I'd like to write more about Spider!Reader in the future. If you have any ideas/requests, please share.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

–//–

Not that Wanda was counting, but you had been away for twelve hours, thirty minutes, and sixteen seconds.

Seventeen.

The opening of the automatic door to the living room of the Avengers Tower took her complete attention away from the clock, and Wanda ignored Natasha's teasing chuckle from the opposite armchair when the younger brunette so ungraciously tossed the book she had been pretending to read for the last few minutes and practically ran out into the arriving group.

You gasped in surprise at the sudden tight embrace, and then in pain from the squeeze.

Wanda released you in the exact second, full concern in her expression.

"What's wrong?"

You chuckled weakly, one hand steadying itself on her waist. "Nothing so bad." You reply but Wanda's expression makes you sigh. "I stopped a train-"

She gasps. "A Moving one?" she blurts and doesn't wait for you to complete, already turning in the direction of Steve Rogers, equally exhausted but not at all injured. "You said it was a stakeout mission!"

The captain held up his hands in surrender to the other's menacing posture. Sam chuckled at the scene, fleeing to the kitchen before Wanda threatened him as well.

"It was! But it got out of hand and Y/N wasn't going to let the train fall off! There were civilians-"

"Dude, you're not supposed to rat me out." It was your turn to cut the captain off, giving him a slap on the chest. Wanda crossed her arms, and you sighed in defeat.

"Babe, I'm all right." You tried to ease the tension. "'That's all that matters, right?" but she just locked her jaw and stormed off, and you turned to the captain beside you. "Thanks for that, Rogers." You retorted wryly. Steve shrugged.

"Don't blame me, spider." He retorted and you rolled your eyes before following Wanda into the bedroom.

You thought Wanda was giving you the silent treatment because she refused to give any reactions to your apologies. But after you got out of the shower, and returned to the room you two shared, she was on the bed with a first aid kit waiting for you.

"Hm, thanks for this." You mumbled awkwardly, moving closer to where she was sitting. Wanda merely hums grudgingly, and you sighed before getting in front of her. "There's nothing so bruised. I know it doesn't look like it but I'm pretty strong." You try to joke, but Wanda stares you in the eye seriously.

"You said you were going to be careful."

"I was!" You assure her. "But there were people, Wands. I've stopped cars before, a train shouldn't be that hard. And Steve and Sam were there and -"

"Sam is human, Y/N." She interrupts impatiently. "And Steve is strong, but not that much. You could have been hurt, in fact, you were hurt."

"I'm fine-" But to prove a point, Wanda nudged you in the ribs and you pulled away with a grunt of pain. She raised an eyebrow, and you sighed. "Low blow, Maximoff."

"You know I'm technically your superior on the team, right? I can take you out of field missions." She mutters, and it's your turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, are you threatening me now, baby?"

Wanda smiled, rolling her eyes. "Let's see how you do, Spider Woman." She teased, raising an alcohol-soaked cotton pad to the height of your face to tend to the superficial cuts. But you brought your faces closer together, and Wanda swallowed dryly. "Do I at least get a welcome kiss?"

"Not that you're really deserving one..." She whispers but ends up losing her train of thought when your lips meet. Yeah, Wanda missed that. 

And the best part is that you don't hold back. Injured or not, the medical kit ends up on the floor as your body moves over hers, pressing her against the bed as you exchange an intense, longing kiss. 

Wanda lets her hands slide into your shirt, the smell of freshly showered intoxicating her senses. She claws at your back, smiling as she feels you grunt against her lips. Your thigh firms up between her legs, and Wanda slides her tongue into yours, increasing the intensity of the make-out session. 

She wanted to be angry with you for your reckless behavior, but it was very hard to remember that when she was under you.

Your knee pressed against her with some purpose and Wanda clenched tightly at your sides, intending to have something to hold onto so she could rub herself against you, but the gesture made you break the kiss in a gasp of pain, completely breaking the mood.

"Mm-shit, I'm sorry. It was just-"

"Take off your shirt." Wanda didn't even let you finish, pushed you sitting up again as scarlet threads pulled the item out at once. You, breathless and embarrassed, averted her gaze over the number of purple marks. 

"It looks worse than it is."

Wanda didn't say anything at the first moment, just looked at you with irritation. Magic did the work of restoring the medical kit that went to the floor, pressing wet cotton swabs of alcohol, and spraying analgesics over your bruises. When she was satisfied with the result, Wanda stood up as you’re putting back your shirt.

"I'll let Steve know that you are suspended from field duty." She declared, ignoring your protests. 

"You can't do that, it's not fair!" You retorted indignantly, following her as she left to return the kit to the bathroom, which was clearly an excuse to escape the conversation since magic could do the job. "I was the spider for years before the Avengers, I have more experience as a hero than anyone here aside from Natasha. Titles are a formality! I was saving lives-"

"I can’t lose you too!" She exploded, and you shut up with a sigh. Wanda sniffled, looking down at the floor, "You're too important. And I can't go through this again. If you're going to keep risking yourself like this just... let me go first." She declares, to which you frown. Wanda closes her eyes, sighing. "At least give me time to learn not to care about you."

"What the hell are you talking about?" You retorted incredulously. "You want to break up with me over this? My-our, job?"

She hugged her own body. "That's not what I said." She retorted, upset. "I just don't want to be with someone who won't be careful. I don't want you to be in danger, and I don't want to lose you. I spent the whole last day worrying about whether you'd come back, and that got me thinking of what kind of life we'd have when we were married, you know? You will keep going around town and I will stay at home with the kids, without having any idea if you will come back or not?" Wanda continued babbling, but all your irritation was completely dissipated with one word. She fell silent when she realized that you hadn't tried to say anything else and were looking at her with a silly smile. "What?"

"You think about marrying me."

Wanda opened her mouth, once and twice, but nothing came out. She felt her face grow warm, becoming even more embarrassed under your intense gaze. "Well, yeah. That's an idea." She manages to mumble, but you chuckle lightly, nodding.

"Okay, I'll take that suspension." You retort putting your hands in your pajama pockets. Wanda raises an eyebrow, but you just smile. "It'll give me more free time, you know? To find the perfect engagement ring."

"W-what?" but you were already leaving the room, muttering something about announcing the news to the rest of the team with Wanda running after you.

[redbullgirly]

Hellooo 👋, can you write enemies to lovers with fernando alonso maybe with some angst? 🤭

It's totally alright if you don't want to! Thankssss :))

EL DESTINO [FA14 oneshot]

Fernando Alonso x reader

Masterlist

Summary: Y/N works for Alpine, and even though Fernando Alonso isn't part of the team anymore, they can't forget their distaste for each other. The driver seems to think she's just an irresponsible party girl and Y/N doesn't like him because he's, well... annoying and mean and doesn't care about anybody but himself. Though could they be both wrong in their prejudices?

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Not much, maybe they're kind of mean to each other and stupid at the start, but that's the point of enemies to lovers, right? XD

Author's Note: Hello Anon and thank you for the request! I didn't expect it to turn out so long, but hey XD. I hope you and everybody else will like it. Also I tried for a little bit of angst, but I'm not sure if I'm good at it... you can let me know :).

If anyone could read your thoughts at the moment, you’d probably end up locked behind bars and with the key from your cell thrown far away. Whoever's great idea was to allow the group of inexperienced interns to touch the important data and statistics deserved to rot seven feet underground. Chopped into small pieces. And doused in poison that eats their lifeless body until there's nothing left.

Okay, that's maybe a bit too violent, but still not far from the truth.

You rubbed your tired eyes, not caring about smudging the mascara anymore. There was basically no one left in the building, just a few mechanics desperately needing the cars to be in perfect condition tomorrow – or should we say today? And then there was you, who stupidly agreed to fix the disaster caused by too much excitement and not enough cautiousness. You knew the interns didn't do it on purpose, and blaming them wasn't going to help you, but still. It wasn't them who had to sit there long after their working hours ended, staring into a too bright computer screen.

When you finally managed to save all the damaged data, it was almost three in the morning, and before you made it back to the hotel, you weren't sure if it was even worth going to bed. Because of the emergency, you didn't have time to finish your usual duties. And even though it wouldn't be fair to want the analysis from you, that wasn't how the game was played in motorsport.

Legs almost giving out under you, you dragged yourself to the elevator. The poor lady sitting at the receptionist desk looked at you skeptically, but didn't say anything as you stepped in and pressed the button with the number of your floor on it. Generic music started playing, numbing your brain even more.

The metal door was about to close, but then a hand came between it. Before you blinked and processed what's happening, a man slipped into the elevator right next to you, pressing his own number.

You see, everything could have been fine. You could've just survived the thirty seconds of embarrassing silence, then mumble a polite goodbye and go to sleep in peace. But no. Fate apparently had other plans for you.

Because as the man turned to you and the bright light hit his face, you realized it wasn't just some stranger.

Suddenly, the silence shifted from the normal elevator weirdness to tension. You pressed your lips together, silently cursing the higher power that decided to mess with your life just today, when you looked like a zombie. With smudged mascara. Perfect.

For someone, maybe it would be a fulfilled dream to be in an elevator with Fernando Alonso. Two time World Champion, great driver, loved person. And a dickhead that almost ruined your whole career.

“You look like you had a wild night,” he murmured with a thick Spanish accent. You narrowed your brows, trying to control the anger bubbling inside of you. Was he trying to insult you? You wouldn't even be surprised.

“Perhaps I did, thank you very much.” Your voice lacked any signs of friendliness, clearly trying to provoke him. It was quite funny, really, how a minute ago you didn't have energy to think clearly, and now you were ready to argue with this man over anything. Almost like the magic of despising someone.

You noticed his jaw tensing and knew it wouldn't be good. But still, his words hurt: “Maybe if you focused more on doing your job instead of wild nights out, Alpine would do better.”

The sting in your chest was strong, but by some miracle the elevator finally stopped, and the robotic voice announced the twenty-sixth floor. Even life itself took pity on you, it seemed.

Without any other word, you turned away from Alonso and walked into the empty hallway, hearing a quiet scoff and then the door sliding closed again behind you, leaving you all alone in the darkness. How poetic.

Every door you passed looked exactly the same, and you just hoped you remembered your room number correctly.

You didn't even remember taking out the card and entering your temporary home for the weekend. You didn't remember taking your clothes off, removing the remaining makeup with a tissue because you were too tired for your usual skin care routine. You didn't remember responsibly setting up your alarm and then falling into the soft mattress.

All you could remember before the exhaustion took over were his words that cut deeper than he thought, and deeper than you'd like to admit.

-----

You couldn't believe it.

As you walked out of the debrief, you could basically feel everybody's frustration crawling up your spine, mixing with your own. The team, all the mechanics and engineers, pit crew members and marketing, hundreds of people worked so hard the whole week. And for what?

It was already bad when both cars didn't finish the last Grand Prix in Silverstone. But for it to happen again? That was downright embarrassing. Not only did it bring exactly zero points in the Constructors' Championship, but the drivers were angry, disappointed. You could see that in the team, the motivation level decreased quickly. And honestly, you couldn't blame them.

Last year, Alpine was the fourth-best car on the grid. Best of the rest, as they'd call it. But this season, everything was going terribly. You honestly weren't far from crying.

To lighten up the mood, some of your colleagues decided to enjoy a night out in Budapest before you'd have to fly to Belgium tomorrow, to prepare for yet another racing weekend. At first, you declined the offer, insisting you needed to catch up on some work, do analysis for the car and figure out exactly what happened to it. But then, one of the mechanics you were friendlier with saw your drooping shoulders, and pulled you into the club despite all your weak protests.

Soon enough, you let loose and after an hour, you were a few drinks in. Your head was spinning, a big smile planted on your lips and giggles coming out of your mouth uncontrollably. Not that you had low alcohol tolerance, but the last time you got properly drunk was some time ago. Perhaps you just forgot how it felt. The freedom, the sweet mist of oblivion clouding your mind.

Currently, you were sitting at the bar, sipping on a cocktail. You already enjoyed your time on the dance floor, which tired you more than expected. Thank God you went to the club right from the paddock, so instead of high heels that'd kill your feet, you had comfortable sneakers on.

As you waved at the young barman to give you another round of whatever he mixed for you before, you felt someone's eyes on your back. You didn't bother to turn around, thinking it was just another drunken man checking out half of the women in the club.

Then, someone stood behind you. “The drink's on me, hermosa,” the man said, voice smooth like honey. You froze. You knew that deep, thick Spanish accent too well. What the hell was Alonso doing here?

He clearly mistook your silence for an impressed one, or so you thought when he came to sit down next to you, his hand gently brushing your back. That was the moment you turned your head towards him, eyes wide, and his face dropped. So did yours.

You hoped for a split second you could pretend you were total strangers randomly meeting in a bar for just a little longer when he instantly frowned and his demeanor changed from charming gentleman to pain in the ass.

“Y/L/N,” he uttered it in a way that made you wonder if there was something wrong with your last name. “Guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here.”

And here it was — the instant wave of anger and hurt he managed to bring up by just a few poking words.

“Says the right person.” You rolled your eyes, the flowing feeling the alcohol gave you before now gone. You felt like you were going to be sick. “I bet if it wasn't me you tried to hit on, you'd bring the poor woman to your hotel room tonight.”

“Careful, or you might sound jealous.”

“Oh, you wish, Alonso,” you laughed humorlessly. 

The bartender chose that moment to bring you the requested cocktail you already forgot about. You gave him the cash, though you had no intention of actually drinking it. As always, Alonso left a sour taste in your mouth.

“I see you're drinking the team problems away,” he pressed harder, knowing damn well it was a sensitive topic. You gritted your teeth, reminding yourself to be the better person.

Then you looked into his dark eyes, and your self-control was gone. For some reason, you couldn't stand the look he was giving you. It was full of something that was too similar to disappointment. You hated people being disappointed in you, even if you hated that very person.

Out of nowhere, the alcohol kicked in, and you remembered why you didn't drink in clubs too often — it made you emotional. So stupidly sensitive that you couldn't stop your eyes from tearing up. You shook your head, opened your mouth, wanting to tell him something. Anything that'd make him just as much hurt as you were.

Instead, you bit your trembling lip and abruptly stood up. You almost knocked over the bar stool, though at the moment, you didn't really care.

Was it cowardly to run away from him and his harsh words? Yes, you knew that. But you did it in the elevator, and so you could do it again.

In a rush, you got through other people enjoying their night out, oblivious to the lump forming in your throat.  You needed to get out, breathe in the fresh air and just forget about everything.

It was probably nearing midnight, and even though it was late July, you still shivered when you stepped outside the club. Just then you remembered you left your jacket back in the paddock. And you also realized the mechanic and his group of friends drove you here, and you had no idea where you were or how to get to your hotel room.

“Great. Just fucking perfect,” you mumbled to yourself, a few tears running down your cheeks. You wiped them away, willing yourself to calm down. Budapest couldn't be too different from other European cities, so you'd just walk to the nearest public transport station and then see what you could do from there. Yes, that was exactly what you're going to do, and it's going to be okay.

Having a plan calmed you down, at least a little. You walked in a direction you hoped would get you to the center and took your phone out. The battery was low, and you cursed yourself for not charging it during the day.

“Where are you going?” You winced and nearly dropped the phone when you heard the loud voice calling after you.

When you turned around, you already knew exactly who was standing before the club entrance.

“That's not any of your business,” you tried to sound tough, but it came out tired and weak. So instead, you lifted your head, trying to save the remaining bits of your dignity.

Alonso tilted his head, brown eyes studying you for a moment before he made a step towards you. “Don't tell me you don't have anyone to take you back to your hotel?” The undertone of his voice was strange, and if you didn't know better, you'd think it was worry seeping out.

“Oh, then I won't tell you,” you fired back, satisfied with your own answer as you turned around and left him standing there.

You made it around the block when a strong hand suddenly grasped your hand, and you screamed, prepared to fight whoever attacked you.

“¡Ay dios mío!” Alonso cursed and held his red cheek, where there was a clear hand print now.

You stared at each other in shock. You wanted to kill him for scaring you to death, but at the same time, you were relieved it was just him and not a creepy kidnapper.

“I'd say I'm sorry… but I'm not,” you managed to mumble. A weak attempt, you knew that. But it still seemed to wake him from his trance and make him scoff at you in annoyance.

However, he didn't let go of your hand.

“Let's go,” Alonso urged you back towards the direction you came from.

“I'm not going anywhere with you.”

“Y/N, if you think I would let a drunk girl wander around a city she doesn't know, alone, at night… then you clearly don't know me at all.”

It took a few seconds for his words to hit you, and all there was left for you to do was to look up at him with surprise written all over your face. That seemed to annoy him for some reason, but with alcohol still very much present in your system, you didn't have the capacity to think about it too much.

“Let's go,” he repeated, though this time you didn't protest when he started walking towards what turned out to be his car. You knew it very well, from the years you used to work together, for the same team. Silently, you wondered how the hell did he get it to Hungary, but you soon forgot about that.

Fernando unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you. Your mom would probably tell you to be more cautious about getting into the car of a man you didn't like and were sure he didn't like you as well. But hey, it's still better than being lost in a foreign city, right?

So you sat down, and before you could reach for the seatbelt, he took it and strapped you himself, mumbling something about safety hazards with drunk people. You were so surprised by that unexpected action you didn't even have time to feel offended.

You closed your eyes, the comfortable seat making you sleepy. You heard him get in the car as well and join the night traffic. For a moment, silence reigned and for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel horrible and tense.

“Isn't it illegal to drive with alcohol?” you whispered, eyes still closed.

“I didn't drink anything in the club. Too busy with you.”

Just then, you realized you actually asked the question out loud.

“Sorry for ruining your celebration night. Probably didn't want to leave it with me,” you laughed quietly. When he approached you in the club, he thought you were a random pretty woman with whom he could share a drink and take her to his bed for a fun night.

“Whatever.” You could hear him shrug his shoulders. “Sorry for ruining your night. Though you don't have much to celebrate.”

That made you open your eyes and gaze at him. He was looking straight ahead, concentrating on the road ahead. The lights of the other cars occasionally landed on his face, and you wondered if he was always so handsome, or it were the cocktails speaking for you.

“Wow, even in an apology there's a hidden insult,” you snickered, though there was a small grin on your lips now. Yes, definitely the alcohol speaking for you, you told yourself.

This time, Fernando actually looked at you before he averted his sight back to the traffic. “I wasn't insulting you, Y/N. I was insulting the team.”

You raised your eyebrows, but didn't comment on it. It was pointless to argue over this, he had his opinion about Alpine and given the fact both your cars didn't finish two races in a row, you didn't have exactly the best arguments to convince him otherwise. After all, he was part of the team last year. And the year before.

For the rest of your ride, there wasn't much more said between the both of you. You were tired — not just because of the night out and drinking, but from the whole week, from the whole season.

Finally, he parked the car before a building you recognized. You didn't ask him how he knew which hotel your team booked, perhaps he remembered it was the same one as the year before. Honestly, you were just glad he helped you get out of the car and walked you inside.

Then, you found yourself in an elevator alone with Fernando, again. Though unlike a month ago, he gently held your hand for support this time.

You told him your room number and somehow, he got you all the way in front of the door. You thanked all the saints in the world when you dug the keys out of your purse. After three unsuccessful tries at unlocking the room, Fernando's patience apparently ran out. He took the keys out of your hand and silently opened the lock.

“Thanks,” you muttered, and let him lead you inside your own hotel room.

When the light switch turned on and illuminated all the papers lying around, he looked at you, flabbergasted.

“What's all this?”

You shrug your shoulders and look at him like he was stupid. Which he was, at least in your humble opinion. “Work. What else?”

“Yes, yes. But why is it… here?” He motions towards the desk, nightstands, and bed.

“Because I don't have time to do it all in the office.”

“You work overtime?”

Now you were starting to get irritated.

“Yes, I work overtime. Maybe if you weren't so insistent in thinking I'm a dumb party girl ever since I made one stupid mistake in your car's analysis a year ago, you'd see I'm actually trying my best.” You hated how hurt you sounded, pathetic in your own ears.

But honestly, who was he to judge you? You never actually stood up to him before, defended yourself against his mean words. You always sucked it up, let him complain about you to your boss, who almost fired you because of the driver's obvious distaste for you. And when he left the team at the end of last year, you never tried to contact him, talk to him. Fix your non-existent relationship.

Today, though, you had enough. Maybe it was the alcohol giving you courage, maybe it was his shocked face when he realized you actually did your job.

“Y/N, I-”

“Get out,” you said in a tone that didn't allow for any objections. Fernando seemed to understand, but the pained expression didn't leave his face when he slowly walked to the door. Like he didn't really want to leave, like he desperately wanted to tell you something.

You didn't care about him. He never cared about you before as well, did he?

And so, with one last, regretful look in his dark eyes, Fernando Alonso left your hotel room. When tears ran down your cheeks, you weren't sure why you were even crying.

-----

You were avoiding him after that. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but you managed and after surviving the Belgian Grand Prix in Spa, you were excited about the summer break as never before. Almost a whole month without races, which meant you wouldn't have to meet anyone from the other teams, including Fernando.

Usually, the team worked tirelessly through the summer break — it was a great chance to have a proper look into the car's engine and come up with new ideas and improvements. God knew you needed that. Typically, you were amongst those loyal employees, basically living in the Alpine headquarters.

However, this year you really wanted a break. So you used your vacation days and stayed in your flat, finally sleeping like a normal person for once, eating home-cooked meals instead of team catering and enjoying the summer, though the weather could be better in England.

It was the start of August when you started finding flower deliveries on the threshold of your door. First, you thought it's a mistake, though what woman would refuse a beautiful bouquet of her favorite flowers. When it happened a whole week in a row, you thought about having a secret admirer or, in the worse case scenario, a stalker. Though, you still took the flowers inside every morning, cherishing them.

And then, one day, there was an envelope attached to the bouquet, and you had to curse yourself for being so, so stupid. Of course it's him, Fernando. Begging you to talk to him, to let him explain. One dinner, he said. One dinner, and then he'll let you go on about your life.

When he tried to write a poem in the middle of August, you finally gave in. You found his old phone number saved amongst many other contacts and sent him a simple “okay”.

The next morning, there was a time and address of the restaurant in the envelope.

You didn't let yourself get too excited about any of it. It's Fernando Alonso, the man who almost caused you to get fired from your dream job, the one that was so mean to you after making wrong assumptions about you and your way of life. Yes, he was trying now, but was that enough?

When the taxi dropped you off in front of the fancy restaurant, you took a deep breath. You had a simple dress on, light makeup, and a few accessories.

You walked into the empty restaurant. The waitress smiled at you when you told her the name of the reservation and led you to the only set table. You could see the deep brown eyes looking directly at you from afar.

Suddenly, nervousness settled in your stomach. If you didn't know better, you'd think this was a date — it certainly felt like one.

Without a word, he helped you sit down on a chair across from him and the waitress handed you the menu. It was without prices, but you were certain this place was lavish and expensive. Perhaps Fernando didn't want you to worry about it and let you order anything you wanted. And you tried not to be too impressed by that.

“You look very beautiful, hermosa,” he spoke after a minute of tense silence while you pretended to be interested in the menu. You didn't miss the fact he used the same nickname like that night in the club, when he thought you were someone else.

“Compliments won't make it easier for you.” Maybe you lied, because you liked him calling you beautiful.

“I know, but I couldn't help myself.”

The waitress came back with a bottle of wine that Fernando must've ordered before you arrived. You took a sip and it tasted like heaven. It almost made you forget about everything, almost.

“Please, can we talk?” You never heard his voice sound so… unsure.

“Aren't we talking right now?”

“Y/N.” The way he said your name was so soft, so delicate.

“Fernando.” You saw him flinch, and you realized it was probably the first time you called him by his first name. Suddenly, the whole situation felt more intimate.

He gulped, but there was determination written all over his face. Fernando Alonso wasn't the type of man to give up, you knew that. His amazing racing career was proof of that.

“Listen to me, please. I know that you have the right to never speak to me again after how I treated you. But I want to fix it, Y/N.”

Those brown eyes were going to be the death of you, burying themselves into your soul, your heart.

“I want to fix all of it, Y/N,” he repeated with all seriousness. “If you let me,” Fernando added.

And how could you say no to him? Deep down, you always admired him. Liked him, even. Before that fuck up with his car's analysis, you thought he might like you back. You always wanted his approval, and that was one of the reasons why his words and insults hurt so much.

Sometimes, people deserved second chances. Especially when they were looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

Slowly, you nodded. “I think I might let you, Fernando.” You smiled, liking how his name felt on your tongue. “But it's not going to be easy, I'm telling you that,” you warned him with a raised finger.

“I wouldn't dream of anything less,” he replied with a thick Spanish accent that was stronger when he felt emotions. Fernando returned your smile and clinked his glass with yours.

-----

Brazil was a good race. Both Alpine cars ended up in points and Fernando, your Fernando, got another podium. You clapped along with others during the podium ceremony, eyes just for him. A proud feeling settled in you, and as he accepted his trophy for well deserved third place, he looked down at the gathered crowd. Mostly people from Aston Martin, McLaren, and Red Bull.

And then there was you — in your Alpine t-shirt, clapping for the driver who scandalously left your team last year, without a care in the world. That was when he knew he loved you, and that he'll always will.

You knew you loved him too when, after all the celebrating around the circuit died down or moved to clubs and private parties, instead of going to his hotel room, he knocked on the door of yours. Checking on you.

“Hermosa, I hope you're not working.” He rolled his eyes as he stepped in, seeing you indeed staring into your notebook at some data he probably shouldn't see as a part of a rival team.

“But Nando, I need to finish these-”

He cut you off the best way he could — hugging you from behind, gently turning your head towards him and placing his lips on yours. You instantly melted into the kiss, giving up the fight before it could even start.

“I think you need to properly celebrate your boyfriend winning,” he smirked, biting your lip teasingly. You felt like a teenage girl when the butterflies took off in your stomach.

Fernando slowly walked you to the bed, never parting your lips, as if his life depended on kissing you. You sat on his lap, your hips grinding against his as you moaned into his mouth.

And he couldn't help himself. He wanted to take you out on a magical date and tell you there, but how could he keep it a secret when you were sitting on him, so beautiful that his heart clenched. Smart and pretty girl. His smart and pretty girl.

“Te amo,” he whispered into your sweet lips, and your breath caught.

You pulled back a little, looking at him, silently asking if you heard him correctly.

“Te amo, Y/N,” he repeated. You knew enough Spanish for your eyes to tear up. “I love you very much.”

There was a heartbeat of silence, probably the longest one in your whole life.

“I love you too. So much,” you whispered back. And then, for him: “Te amo, Fernando.”

Now it was his turn to tear up, hold your face in his hands and press your foreheads together.

Perhaps the fate and its plans for you weren't so horrible after all.

THE END

Author's Note: Wow, if you read it all to the end, thank you very much! I'll be glad for likes, comments, reblogs, follows and every other way of support. Let me know how you liked this story and if you'd maybe like another oneshot from this "universe" because I have to admit, this version of Fernando and Y/N kind of grew on me... Have a great day and see you at the next post! :)

[unforgettwble-sumii]

SOFT SPOT

[Wednesday Addams x Fem!reader oneshot]

> characters are already in a established relationship, Wednesday lowkey having a soft spot for the reader <33 and ofcourse, characters are aged up.

> Wednesday has been known for showing sadistic tendencies and a dark personality. However, to you she shows another side that other people didn't even know she had.

—·–—·–—·–—·–—·–—·–—·–—·–—·–—·–—·–—·–—·–—·–—·—

"Wednesdayyyyyyyyy, c'mon plsssss" you whined, tugging on her black and white knitted sweater.

"For the last time mi amor, I am not gonna cuddle with you, let alone let you sleep on me." She said as she typed on her typewriter. Mentally rolling her eyes.

You're lucky she loves you, otherwise she would've chopped your fingers off the moment you started tugging on her sweater.

"why notttttt? Don't you love me anymoreeee?" You dramatically asked as you wiped your fake tears away.

"You know that I spend at least an hour devoting to my novel." Wednesday said, eyes still glued on the typewriter infront of her.

She typed quietly and the clicking noise that the typewriter made was calming.

She looked so pretty when she was focused. Ofcourse she looked pretty all the time, but there's something much more when she's focused. She looked really attractive.

"And I didn't say that I don't love you anymore, Cariño." She added. Her cheeks were (very) lightly coated with blush as she said that.

"Then plsssss cuddle with meeeee, I'm really sleepy :(" you said. Your lips forming a little pout.

Wednesday glanced at you, 'Adorable. so adorable that it's actually pathetic.' she thought, still having a deadpanned expression.

"I'm almost done. Just wait a little longer, querida." She said looking at you. Eyes scanning over your face, watching your expression falter.

"but- but- wednesdayyyyy you said that 30 minutes agoooo?!!!" You whined once more as your mouth formed an even bigger pout.

"You didn't have a problem with waiting awhile ago, why throw a fit now?" Wednesday said, shooting you a glare.

"becauseeeee, I didn't feel tired thennn" you said grabbing on to the side of the chair that she was sitting on.

Yes, you were acting a little much like a toddler but at this point you were getting frustrated. All you wanted was to cuddle, was that too much to ask?

"You're capable of sleeping on your own. You don't need to have me beside you to sleep." she said, Her eyes boring holes into your soul.

"If you're really that tired you're welcome to sleep on my bed. But it won't be comfortable though. So don't blame me if you wake up with a stiff neck." She turned to her typewriter to continue her unfinished novel.

You sighed. "welp, it was worth a shot...." You said. Your shoulders dropped a little.

You stood up, head still facing the ground. Your eyes unexpectedly started to form tears. Real tears.

You went ahead and wiped some of your tears as you tried to stifle yourself from crying. 'why am I even crying? I'm acting like such a big baby.' you thought, eyes proceeding to create more tears.

Wednesday turned around to see what you were doing since you had stopped whining and begging.

Wednesday's eyes widened a little. She didn't expect you to cry.

'shit.' She thought. She didn't mean to make you cry. She thought of a way to try and make you stop crying.

"Fine." she said.

"huh?" You said glancing her way. Hurriedly wiping wiping your tears away (or at least trying to) "Wednesday what do you mean?"

"I'll cuddle with you. I'll even let you sleep on me." She said as she sighed. Her cheeks were coated with blush, but unlike last time, the blush was actually a little more visible.

"Really?!!!?" You excitedly exclaimed.

"Yes. Now, stop crying before I change my mind." she visibly rolled her eyes.

Wednesday borrowed some of Enid's pillows. 'She won't mind.' she thought, before putting them on her own bed.

5 minutes later and you're already soundly asleep in the arms of your one and only love, Wednesday Addams.

Wednesday glanced at you, making sure that you were actually asleep. '.... You're lucky that I have a soft spot for you.' she thought, lips curling up a little to form a small smile.

She gently kissed the top of your head and hugged you closer. "Sleep well, mi amor." She whispered before she herself slowly dozed off to sleep.

a/n:

I deeply apologize if there are any spelling mistakes. I know I haven't posted for literally a long time, I am really sorry.

Oh, and I'm sorry if the oneshot doesn't make sense ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

I'll try even harder to post even more oneshots/imagines. :')

That's all, Thankyou <33

©unforgettwble-sumii's work. Pls do not repost, steal modify, or translate.

[green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle]

NEVER GONNA DANCE AGAIN (oneshot)

Aventurine x ex girlfriend!reader

He would gamble his own life before ever risking your relationship but his dangerous job forced him to give you up, shattering both of your hearts in the process. Months later Sigonian notices you on one of the boujee parties he got invited to as an IPC representative. Motivated by yearning and alcohol in his veins Aventurine tries his luck in love again. ANGST,SUGGESTIVE

general masterlist

Aventurine was always a little bit fed up with those expensive parties thrown by his business partners, lavish ballroom filled with pathetic people living with no purpose besides endless consumption, each of them raised in conditions he could only dream of as a child, staring at him with curiosity. Hoping that he will make a mistake, prove them he is still a lowlife they take him for despite all those privileges he now enjoyed as a high ranking IPC member. But tonight he sincerely did not care about any of this, barely acknowledging the noise around him. 

He sipped on a drink more pricey than lifetime supply of food for his whole clan would be, giving out charming smiles that never reached his devoid of emotions, outstanding eyes to greedy leaches sitting alongside him at the poker table. Seemingly interested in shallow exchange of blows disguised as jokes and witty remarks young man looked around not expecting anything positive out of this meeting, maybe except meaningless material gains he forced himself to care about for the sake of keeping up his Aventurine persona.  

Then he noticed elegant woman standing alone near the entrance. Fingers adorned with precious rings clenched around the glass, almost shattering it in desperate attempt to conceal how much his hands started to shake at the sight of familiar face. He thought he imagined it at first, but his broken heart wasn't playing tricks on him. Aventurine would recognize your face even after centuries, every detail of it carved into his mind, into his soul. Long, green dress tightly hugged your figure, enhancing every curve he loved to caress so much. It was really you. Just as beautiful as the day he broke your heart, five months ago. The day he saw you for the last time. 

*** 

- Why are you doing this to me? To us? After all this time? - tears dripped down your cheeks, you were choking on your sobs. Aventurine wanted to hold you, make you feel like everything will be alright, but he knew what he needed to do to keep you safe. 

- Y/n, there is nothing to talk about, stop making this so hard. I never loved you in the first place, I just needed some distraction from my work. - he was always a great liar. You seemed to believe him and he thanked Aeons for it, despite how much it hurt him to see you in pain. It's the only way to make sure they won't touch you. - It was funny to play house with you for two years but that joke got old. You no longer entertain me.  

You looked into his eyes, begging for this to be a cruel prank, searching for any crumbs of love in his eyes, but they were cool and calculated. Speaking to him when he put on his poker face felt like talking to a wall. Despair slowly turned into hatred in you heart, it's fire kept you warm in spite of your ex boyfriend's cold attitude.  

- I hate you. I hate you so fucking much. I can't blame you for being a shameless liar, you told me that's who you are at the beginning. I should've trusted you when you showed me your true colors. I don't even want you to apologize, I played myself investing my love in you. Now get lost Vasha. - nickname once spoken tenderly now felt like a slap to Aventurine. How do you tell somebody in front of whom you bared your soul that they were only a toy to you?  

He spared you the rest of monologue he prepared and went outside with all his belongings packed in three suitcases. He glanced at the door of your shared place for the last time and whispered to himself. 

- In another universe I can be just your Kakavasha, kiss your face every morning after I wake up by your side and hold you every night, love you the way you deserve to be loved, make you proud of me. Protect you with my own strong arms and build our future with them. But Aventurine can't afford such luxury, not at your expense. Not if it can cost your life. 

***  

Just thinking about how he treated you made him want to punch himself in the face. He tried to reason with himself. Back then his position in Stonehearts was endangered after he risked his Cornerstone during the mission in Penacony.  If he lost all his power opponents he got during his work in IPC would go straight after you and he wouldn't be able to fight them off. Aventurine secured his rank and influences by now, as soon as he did that he got rid of enemies to make sure he will never feel this incapable of protecting those dear to him. Such as you. 

Aventurine knew he should not hope for rekindling of your love, not after all those terrible things he has said and done, but could you blame him? All his life nothing really belonged to him, nothing but your heart you so willingly gave to him. Even money he bargained with were only borrowed from IPC, just like his new name, dignity and life. Not to mention his whole new personality, attitude worn as a mask grew so deep into him it felt like a second face. Kakavasha was a different man, the kind that knew what was really important and what was not.  

One not impressed by money or political circus, instead wanting to protect and provide for those close to him, more down to earth and proud than Aventurine could ever be with all his wealth and victories. The one who stood in silence when the lights were gone, the one who observed emotionless when his fate was debated by the rest of the Stonehearts, the one who put his own body as a shield between his friends and dangers of battle.  

There was not much those two men caged together in one body had in common, with few exceptions. Both had iron will and ambition forged in hellfire they went through in this lifetime, both were aware that even with all the luck in the universe their destiny was inherently unjust and both knew they will love you till death returns Kakavasha's tired soul to his family and Gaiathra Triclops in afterlife.  

Alcohol circulated in his veins, clouding his mind and soothing his fears. He excused himself not caring about worried glances his coworkers sent him and rushed towards you on slightly wobbling legs, passing self-important gentlemen and overdressed ladies. Concentrated on getting to you as fast as possible he didn't plan on what to say so once your eyes crossed he just froze in place. At first your eyes widened in pure shock but right away hatred took over. Aventurine inhaled sharply when your brows furrowed and jaw clenched. He wasn't used to irritated glances from you, you were always so gentle with him. His mouth got dry. 

- Long time no see, dear. - your voice was more collected than you expected it to be. Sometimes you imagined meeting him again but even in your dreams you were never this calm and over him. So time truly does heal wounds. - I have no idea why do you think you can just approach me out of nowhere after what you did to me, but I won't let you waste any more of my time after you stole years of my life with your empty promises. So please, hurry up.  

- So cold, huh? - Aventurine awkwardly attempted to laugh his anxiety off. - I know I must come off as a complete jerk but please, listen to me. Back then... I... I don't know how to explain that. 

- Maybe for once just say the truth if you even know how to be sincere. - you scoffed. - Simply say it like it is.  

- I was one bad day away from losing my job and I needed to make sure you won't get hurt in the process.  

You raised one of your eyebrows.  

- So you can only love me when you are on the top of the world but as soon as problems emerge I am a burden to discard? - you rolled your eyes.  

- Don't say that... It's not like that. - he hid his left hand behind his back, toying with one of the poker chips he always carried around. - If they kicked me out all kinds of sick people who prayed for my downfall would go after me. None of them would miss the opportunity to hurt me even more by harming you.  

- If that's what you say... - you seemed unbothered.  

- What do you mean by that? - Avgin curved his lips in confusion. 

- How can I be sure you aren't lying? That wouldn't be the first time it seems. - you chuckled sadly.  

- Please don't use that against me, I had no choice... - before he had a chance to explain further you interrupted. 

- Why should I believe you? Not to mention at this point it wouldn't change anything. - you looked away. - Not after all this time. 

- How could I let you know it was a bluff if you cut me off completely? I couldn't find you anywhere, I tried for weeks. You moved out and blocked me. - Sigonian's voice broke when he choked on repressed emotions, wondering if you even listened to him, your expression not showing any sign of interest. 

- I don't care anymore. If you really wanted to you would find a way. - you shrugged. 

Before he could mention how he overused his political influence and still could not find a single trace of you black haired male approached you both with glass of wine. Aventurine sized him up, tall and well build man had a reserved and cool aura, Avgin could feel hidden power radiate from that guy, as if he had a beast under his skin. Something about the way dark-haired male looked at you made his stomach turn. 

- I brought the drink you wanted. Are you ok? Who's that man? - mysterious guy asked you, concerned by your uncomfortable body language. He had a deep, melodic voice but spoke in monotone way. 

- I should ask the same thing. - Aventurine did his best to sound intimidating. - You guys know each other? - he turned his gaze back to you. 

- Yes, it's my coworker, Dan Heng. We grew really close lately. - you smiled at that strange, tall man. Sigonian stopped himself from asking just how close the two of you were. - Thank you for a chance to catch up Aventurine, but you see, I'm very busy right now. I promised to introduce my... friend to a few people. 

You gave him venomous smile when Dan Heng put his arm around your waist protectively and pulled you away from your ex. Aventurine hated the way you let that guy touch you. Did you allow him even more in private? Did you let him do things Avgin used to do? Does that other man know how beautiful you look with messy hair and no make up, with flushed cheeks and tears of pleasure in your eyes? Do you sing for him the way you did for Aventurine every night? Does he wear your marks on his back? Gambler preferred not to know, but whether Dan Heng already took his place by your side or was yet working on it, he was sure of one thing.  

- It's not over yet. - Aventurine muttered, clenching his left fist till he heard a poker chip breaking in half. 

[m-jelly]

Hello Jelly. I found this beautiful drabble https://www.tumblr.com/m-jelly/674039435472617472/hi-jelly-i-love-your-work-and-i-hope-youre-doing. So what about part 2? Like spicy details of their first time 🤭 I am sure it will be romantic and hot

Ah my very depressing oneshot haha Oof, I don't know if this is going to turn out well because the original was very depressive and emotionally raw. I'll try my best

You are worth waiting for. Part 2

Levi x reader

Levi and you experience your first time together, it's raw, emotional and a bit messy.

part 1

Levi returned to touring after the wonderful love confession and begged you to come along, but you had a job and it was hard for you to depart from it while he was working. So, you exchanged contact details and parted ways with promises to stay a couple and never leave each other again.

You enjoyed your basic data entry job, it paid well and you could work from home and have no contact with anyone or customers. While Levi was on tour, you called each other every day and video called often. Your romance deepened over the months, but emotions were still raw and fragile. Levi was confident in his feelings, but you still had a deep guilt in you.

Levi softly called your name as he hurried around what looked like an airport to you. "Are you okay? You have that dark look again."

You hummed. "I'm fine."

"Ah, those two deadly words."

You nibbled the inside of your lip. "Really, Levi, I'm good."

He threw his suitcase into something then slammed something, which sounded like a door to you. "Talk to me. Is it that creeping guilt again?"

You welled up and looked away from him. "Mm." You rubbed your tears away. "I shouldn't be like this."

People shouted in the background as they started to recognise Levi, so he hurried into a car. He popped his phone in a holder and drove off. "Love, you are my everything. You are not to blame, I fucking suck at communicating. Please, please, please don't cry. I love you." He called your name. "I love you."

You smiled at him. "I love you too. I love you so much. I guess I still have a lot of mental things to work through, huh?"

"We'll work together, okay?"

You pulled at your jumper. "Do you have mental things about us?"

He hummed in thought. "Uh, I guess sometimes I question if this is all real if we really are together and then I'm reminded that we are and it makes me happy." He smiled softly and then frowned. "Ah, that's not what you were wanting to hear."

You smiled a little. "It's okay. I like hearing your thoughts."

"I'll tell you everything going on in my head, like how unbelievably cute you look in your turtle neck jumper."

You felt your cheeks heat up. "I'm a mess today. My hair is messy too."

"You make it look good."

You hummed a laugh. "Thanks. You're handsome as always."

He glanced at you and smiled. "Hearing you say that always makes me feel so good."

You frowned a bit. "Are you driving?"

"Yep."

You gasped. "You should focus on driving. I'll let you go."

He shook his head. "Nope, no, not until I hear you say it." He smirked. "Come on."

You giggled. "I love you, Levi Ackerman. I love you so much." You blew kisses to him. "I can't wait to kiss you again. I miss you so much." You sighed. "If only this job didn't stop me from going with you."

"You're a hard-working cutie, you've always been."

You hummed as you hugged yourself. "I love you, Levi. I love you with all my heart." You waved. "Bye Levi, speak to you when you arrive at wherever you're going next."

He smiled. "Bye, love."

Once you ended the call you released a long sigh. You hummed to yourself and finished off your work shift for the day. You logged off and moved around your home in a cute small town. The town was the perfect place to just relax with lots of places to walk, local shops and friendly people.

You went about the rest of your day wondering when you'd be able to speak with Levi again, or if you could see him again. It was wonderful being with him finally, but the distance was killing you a little. As the sun started to set and the night came early, it got you a little excited for winter and the snow that was to come.

You changed for bed and grabbed a nice hot chocolate. You curled up in bed with your bedside light on and a book in hand. After a bit of reading, you were beginning to feel tired, but someone rang your doorbell. It worried you a bit because it was late, but you knew this town was very safe and it was probably a neighbour.

You moved downstairs to your front door as you pulled on your dressing gown. "Coming!" You unlocked the door and opened it. "Bit late for a neighbourhood meeting, huh?"

Levi smirked. "But it's a very important meeting."

You squeaked a little then became flustered at finally seeing your boyfriend again. "Levi."

He hummed a laugh. "I missed hearing you say that in person." He leaned closer and kissed you. "I thought I'd surprise you. That okay?"

You nodded. "Y-Yes. Come in."

He dragged his suitcase in behind him. "Thank you." He slipped his biker boots off and looked around. "So cosy in here and it smells so good." He turned to you. "You look so cute."

You locked up and turned to him. "Thank you. You're incredibly handsome. You must be tired from your travels. Do you want to take your bag to my room?"

He chuckled and followed you. "Going to your room, how exciting."

You walked upstairs with him and glanced back. "Have you just been looking forward to living with me and seeing my home?"

"Yes. All I've seen is through your camera. So, seeing it all now is amazing."

You sat on your bed and watched Levi settle in. "Put your things anywhere." You hummed. "You like seeing my place, but I just like seeing you here."

He opened his case and pulled out his PJ bottoms. "I like being here with you." He cleared his throat. "Are you okay with me wearing just his?"

You nodded. "Yeah." You pointed. "Bathroom is over there."

"Thanks."

You returned to your spot and continued drinking your hot chocolate. You glanced at the bathroom door as Levi did his routine, it was nice hearing him potter about in there. "So, how long are you staying?"

He stepped out and turned the light off. "For as long as you let me."

Your heart raced at seeing him shirtless, his defined muscles and tattoos on show. "I uh...umm..."

"The tour is over with. I just have to get creating again with songs." He sat on your beg and fixed the covers. "You're my muse."

You gazed deeply into his eyes. "Mm, you're so cute. I hope that you stay for a while and this town inspires you."

He dragged you closer to him. "All I need is you."

You ran your hands up his chest making him release a slight moan. "Me too."

He kissed you again and hummed as you slowly lay back and pulled him on top. He softly moaned your name against your lips. "My love."

You lightly touched Levi’s cheek. “Can I ask you something?”

He played with your hair as he gazed down at you. “You can ask anything.”

You nibbled your lip. “I’ve been thinking about me and you having sex for a while.”

Levi flushed red. “Right.”

You laughed nervously. “It’s all good stuff. I don’t know what you like; with your personality and everything, you seem to enjoy the rough stuff. So, I want you to know I’ve not done rough things before. You're a rocker, so...I wanted to try something romantic with candles and a cute outfit, but I umm…” You gulped. “I would like to have sex with you, but I umm…I’ll do my best!”

Levi stared at you under him, then he started laughing with the most loving gaze in his eyes. “You are beyond adorable. I don’t like rough stuff. I’m actually a very passionate lover. I like it slow, close and loving so we can feel every inch of each other.”

You blushed. “Oh…”

“As for the candles, I would love to do that, but another time because my true love wants me and I want her.” He kissed you and hummed. “So, do you want to?”

You nodded as you slowly pulled your nightshirt up. “I do.”

Levi leaned up and looked down at you. “Oh, look at you.”

“I’m a little nervous due to my body.”

He frowned a little. “Why would you be nervous? You’re beautiful.” He sat back on his legs. “You’re stunning.”

You sat up as you blushed. “It’s just, that I’m not perfect."

“You’re beautiful. I have adored and loved your body for years and will continue to."

You stared at his perfect muscles, then you shyly pulled your top off. You pressed your arm against your breasts. “Sorry, they’re not perky.”

He ran his hands up and down your thighs. “You’re really beautiful. You’re the most beautiful woman ever. It's you, always been you.”

You smiled and glanced down to see Levi was rock hard. “Oh.” You blushed hard. “Oh wow.”

Levi cleared his throat. “Sorry, you’re just so perfect and this is a dream come true.”

You nibbled your lip. “Can I see it?”

He gulped, then nodded and shifted allowing him to take his PJ bottoms off. “This is me, all of me.”

You ran your hands up his thick muscular things towards his hard twitching cock. “Can I touch it?”

“Only if you want to.”

You gently took him into your hand and moved up and down. You leaned closer and watched your actions. You ran your hand up to the tip and ran your thumb over slowly. “It’s glistening already.”

Levi grunted. “I'm just so excited, sorry.”

You looked up at him to see his cheeks were pink and he was panting softly. You released his cock. “Sorry, I’m getting you all worked up.”

He moved your knees apart, then slipped his hand up between your legs. “I don’t mind, I just want to touch you as well.” His long fingers parted your slit. He moved his fingers up and down as he watched you hum and whine at him. “You must have been really thinking about us, huh?”

You flushed red. “I-I can’t help it.” You leaned your head back and moaned as his fingers circled your clit. “You’re beautiful. So beautiful.” He slowly pushed you down onto your back as his fingers kept moving on your clit. “Good girl. Don’t hold back, okay? I want to hear your moans.”

You panted and moaned. “They’re…embarrassing.”

“No, they’re sexy.” He kissed and nipped your neck. “Very sexy.” He ran his thumb over your clit. “Your moans are like music to my ears. They're better than any song I've ever created.” He kissed you as he pressed one finger into your pussy slowly making you grab his upper arm and hum. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “I-I’m good, just nervous.”

"It's okay, I'll take care of you." He smiled, then hummed and studied you. “Now, where is the right spot…”

You hummed and closed your eyes tightly, then you gasped and grabbed Levi’s arm. “Holy shit.” You laughed a little. “Who knew you of all people would finally find it.”

“This is a very important spot, so of course, I’m going to find it.” He pressed it over and over as his thumb moved against your clit. He smiled as you wiggled and moaned under him. “See?”

You gripped his shoulders and pawed at him. “Good…so good…”

“If you think that is good, this should feel better.” He pulled his hand from you, then pressed in two fingers slowly and pressed. “How about this?”

You tilted your head back and panted. “Oh…Levi…your fingers.”

Levi moved his fingers a little faster as his thumb moved in circles against your clit. He kissed you, then nipped your lip and deepened the kiss. He took all your moans and pants of pure pleasure. He couldn’t stop smiling at how cute and sexy you sounded. He felt pride that you were his. He could feel you squeezing around him desperately as you were ready to snap. You gripped at Levi’s back and squeezed your legs tightly, then cried into the kiss as you felt another rush of pleasure surge through every inch of you. You pulled from Levi’s lips, then leaned your head back and panted.

Levi pulled his hand from you and licked his fingers clean. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Y-Yes. That felt really good. It’s not over, is it?”

Levi shook his head. “No. Next is the part that scares me. I don’t want to hurt you, so I will be as gentle as possible.” He cleared his throat. "I'll get a condom."

You blush, then sat up and kissed Levi. “I have the implant.” You placed your hand on his thigh. “So, you don't need one.”

Levi roughly kissed you. “O-Okay. I’m glad you’re not scared. Now, lie down.”

You wiggled down and lay there for him. "I'm yours."

“So cute.” He moved to between your legs and moved them a little. He sighed and looked at you. “Are you sure you want this?”

You nodded. “I do…do you not?”

He smiled. “I do, I really do I just don’t want to hurt you or anything. You've been hurt enough.”

You opened your arms and smiled so sweetly at Levi. “I want you. So, please come to me and be one with me.”

Levi leaned down and kissed you, then he looked down at your pussy and his cock. He sighed, then slowly pushed in a little making you gasp and squeeze up. He looked at you and cupped your face. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m taking it slow. You’re the boss here, so if you want us to stop, we will.”

You sighed and nodded. “I want this, I do. It’s just…it is different to your fingers. This is our first time and we were friends for so long and our love is so raw...”

He tapped his forehead against yours and smiled. “It is. It’ll feel strange at first, but it’ll feel really good.”

You giggled. “I trust you.”

He pressed in a little more. “Relax, okay?” He winced a little as you squeezed. “Relax.”

You blushed and sighed. “Okay, sorry just…I need a moment…”

Levi cupped your face and ran his thumbs over your cheeks. “It’s okay, take all the time you need.”

You hummed, then smiled at Levi. “Okay, keep going. I want you.” You panted as he kept pressing in, then you felt slight pain and resistance. You gripped Levi’s wrist. “Don’t stop, keep going please.”

Levi nodded, then pressed in all the way and panted. He moaned and hummed at how good you felt around him. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed his weight against you. He played with your hair, then smiled at you when you opened your eyes and smiled back. “How are you feeling?”

You giggled. “Full, but good.”

“Does it hurt?”

You shook your head. “There was some stinging, but I’m okay now.”

“Good.” He shifted his legs. “I’m going to move, okay?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around him and pushed your fingers into his hair. “I’m ready.”

Levi kissed you, then rocked his hips once with his hips angled perfectly. He stopped moving when he heard you cry out, then clenched around him over and over and shiver. “Did…did you just?”

You flushed bright red. “Sh-shut up.”

Levi smiled. “Wow, you are amazing.”

You turned your head to the side as you blushed and pouted. “So are you…don’t…don’t stop.”

Levi kissed your neck over and over and began rocking his hips nice and slow. You both panted and moaned together as the pleasure was instantly strong within you. You closed your eyes tightly and moaned as your nails clawed at Levi.

The bed squeaked a little at the gentle and loving movements, if you two weren’t so deeply in pleasure you would have been a little embarrassed at the noises the bed was making.

As he rocked his hips against you, he just felt pure love between the two of you. You couldn’t believe that a man you thought would be rough in bed was so passionate and gentle. Someone who was once your best friend was now so deep inside you and giving you a deep loving.

You turned your head and gazed at Levi to see a beautiful shine within his eyes, a shine that showed his adoration and love for you. You welled up and smiled so sweetly at him, then you cupped the back of his head and pulled him down.

You moaned as Levi moved a little rougher and faster as his thoughts went to the future. He adored you and wanted to keep you forever and he was going to. He was going to get even more possessive with you now that you’d had sex. He let you go once before, never again.

Levi ran his hand up your thigh, then pushed your leg up a little. He rocked harder and faster against you but made sure he rubbed your clit as he did. He kissed you so fiercely and passionately. He held the back of your head and neck in one hand.

He growled at you as he became possessed by his love and passion for you. He adored you so much. He was happy, so happy that you loved him just as much as he loved you, that you became a couple and reunited so perfectly.

Levi held you tightly as he rocked as fast as your body could take. Your body shivered and squeezed him as he pressed the right spot within you and your clit. You dug your nails into his back and squeezed your toes tightly. You whined and fought your pleasure, but you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your legs shook, then you cried out a moan.

Your mind went black, your hearing went as you felt like you were melting as fire went through you. You dropped your arms from around him, then pulled from Levi’s lips and leaned your head back as you panted and moaned. Levi slowed down his movements, then smiled at you.

He kissed your face all over, then your neck to soothe you and slowly wake you up from your bliss. “Are you okay?”

You nodded and smiled. “I’m perfect. You’re incredible. I can’t believe I’ve been so worried.”

“I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” Levi tapped his forehead against yours, then slowly rocked his hips.

You both panted and moaned a little at the long and loving movements. You lifted your hips to meet Levi’s movements. Your body was on fire with raw passion and desire for this man. You had an itch that this man could scratch easily.

You gazed at each other as you both felt his perfect hard cock pull from you, then plunge back in past the right spot that desire attention. His pelvis rubbed against your clit, so you were gaining pleasure from the inside and out.

You both shared a sweet smile, then started kissing each other. Levi’s tongue instantly took control and made you sigh in pure content.

You didn’t know if you deserved this, but you were going to accept it all. After years of playing him around and not knowing he was in love with you, the guilt would still eat at you. So, you wanted to hold on to as many good things as possible.

You smiled into the kiss and held back tears as a warmth spread through your body. You wanted this to last all night. You wanted to be in Levi’s arms for as long as possible. You couldn’t think of anyone else when it came to spending your life with. You wanted this man to love and adore you until your last breath.

You pulled from Levi’s lips and panted a little as you tried to get some air into your lungs. You hummed and moaned for Levi as you felt the coil tighten inside you. “Levi.”

Levi lifted your hip slightly until you cried out in pleasure. He smiled, then started moving harder. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl for me.” He panted and kissed your ear. “Cum for me. Cum again.”

You clenched him tightly and cried out in euphoria as you felt nothing but body-shaking pleasure. “Levi.” You gasped and smiled. “Levi, you’re…wow.”

He smiled at you and rubbed your cheek affectionately and started fucking his cock into you roughly. “You look so pretty when you cum.”

You blushed bright red. “Th-thank you.”

“I just want to make you cum over and over so I can see that pretty look.”

You whined a little. “Le-Levi.” You shivered and your legs vibrated as the pleasure ran through you. You hummed and gripped Levi. “S-Slow down.”

Levi stopped moving when he heard your delicate pleads. He looked you over to make sure you weren’t hurt. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.”

You cupped the side of his face. “You didn’t hurt me. I’m just a little sensitive. Give me a moment.”

Levi nodded, then covered your face in loving kisses. “Take all the time you need. I’m happy to just be inside you.”

You giggled and squeezed his dick. “Me too.” You ran your hand down his back slowly. “You feel wonderful.” You kissed Levi and hummed in happiness. “Are you close?”

Levi nodded. “I am, which is why this is a perfect position. I can cum nice and deep.”

You wrapped your legs around him. “You can and we can kiss a lot.”

Levi hummed a laugh and kissed you so sweetly with love in his heart. Levi loved you endlessly. You’d never been loved so deeply before. Levi always took care of you and made sure you were happy. Levi could not have a life if you were out of it, he'd tried but it only made him sick.

Levi tangled his fingers in your hair, then rocked against you. Levi pressed himself in deep over and over. He made sure that he never stopped kissing you. The way he moved inside you was like he knew the inside of you, like your pussy was made for his cock. You two fitted together and with every touch and movement, you were cumming around this man so easily.

Levi slipped one hand under your back and held you. Levi kept moving his hips against you. He moaned and hummed as he felt close to cumming inside you. He pulled from your lip and panted. He moaned your name. “I’m close.”

You panted and cupped his face. “Fill me. I need it. I need to feel it inside me. Please, Levi.”

Levi grunted at your words, your pleading face and how you squeezed around him. “I’ll fill you to the brim. I’ll give you everything I have.”

You moaned at his words. You arched your back in delight as you felt your coil tighten. “Levi, harder please.”

Levi nodded, then bucked into you roughly. He moaned your name and fought his orgasm. You shivered in his arms as you felt your coil tighten, but it wouldn’t snap. You placed your hand on Levi’s bum and moved him against your clit. You squeezed Levi hard, then felt the pop. You shivered and moaned at the pulsing pleasure ripping through you.

Levi kept moving through your orgasm, then lifted your hips with his hand and pressed in deep as he came hard. He grunted, then moaned your name as he pumped his cum deep into you. He bucked a few times, then panted and looked down at you to see you had your eyes closed tightly as you twitched and shivered.

He carefully lowered your hips down onto the bed. He panted and hummed, then covered your face in kisses. “Are you okay my love?”

“I’m okay.”

"Promise?"

You opened your eyes and giggled. "Yes."

He nuzzled his nose against yours. "Good." He cleared his throat. "I can't believe I just came inside my best friend."

You laughed. "Did you dream of this?"

"I'd be lying if I said no." He kissed you. "I thought about it often."

You looked away and whined. "Me too."

Levi nipped your neck. "Who knew my best friend now girlfriend was so dirty."

"Mm, you should see my fanfic reading history."

"Is it kinky?"

You glanced at him. "Maybe."

He smirked. "Send them. I wanna take notes."

You whined. "Okay. It might shock you."

"I wanna learn everything about you."

You frowned a bit. "Levi? Are you still hard?"

He stared at you for a bit. "Yes..."

"Hot." You hummed a laugh. "Well, welcome home." You rolled over onto him making him grunt. "How about I give you more of a welcome home?"

Levi massaged your hips and gazed at your breasts, where his cock met your pussy and then your face. "P-please."

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @anti-cupid @abiatackerman

[poetryandfluffycats]

His Girl~

A/N: part of my Nikolai stalker au! might be the last one for awhile since for may ill be on the grind for enstars NSFW month🤍

Pairing: Kidnapper!Nikolai Gogol x fem!reader

Content: Bathing with kidnapper Nikolai...

Warnings: kidnapping, suggestive(?)

Words: 887

Oneshot under cut!

"Dove, how would you like a bath?"

Nikolai leaned over my shoulder, wrapped his arms around my middle and squeezing my belly fat. "Hm, and maybe some new clothes? You must be getting sick of this old number! Aha!"

A bath? I would've loved a bath. It'd been so long since the last time I'd properly bathed, my only way of cleaning myself whilst down here being a dirty rag and a bucket. Even though there was a bathtub in the bathroom of the basement, Nikolai had never let me use it for whatever reason.

The thought of clean water, soap, shampoo, maybe even bubbles? It had me tingling. New clothes too? Clearly something had put Nikolai in a good mood today, which I wasn't going to complain about.

Something about the offer, however, made me shiver. Something about the way he held me, about the way he squeezed me just a bit too tight, told me that he wasn't doing this out of the kindness of his own heart.

"That sounds nice..." I mumbled, turning my head around to face him. There it was, that stare again. Pupils blown out beyond humanness, jagged teeth showing in his wide grin.

Anyone would've called me crazy if I told them, but that was his happy face.

"Wonderful! Yes, let's get you all nice and squeaky clean, hm?"

He intertwined his fingers with mine, a bounce in his step as he dragged me towards the bathroom, which was located in the far corner of the basement. Once inside, he closed and locked the door behind us, patting the counter top and gesturing for me to sit down. I did as he wanted, hopping up onto the counter and swinging my legs back and forth.

The action reminded me of when I was a child, watching my mother do her makeup at the vanity while I begged her to put some on me too. I wondered if she missed me, if anyone did.

"Now, I wasn't sure what type of scent you liked, so I got a whole bunch! I think the lady at the store thought I was crazy, aha!" Nikolai giggled, opening the cabinet beneath me and pulling out bottle after bottle of shower products. "Strawberry, peach, vanilla, cherry, this ones called 'A thousand wishes' how odd...! Oh, bath salts, you need bath salts! Here, I got a few options for those as well"

"Vanilla sounds nice" I smiled softly, pointing at the bottle in question. Nikolai grabbed it and popped open the lid, holding it out for me to smell. "Smells nice too"

"Vanila it is then! I'll fill the tub, and you strip for me, mkay? Don't be embarrassed, I'll behave myself! Scouts honour"

Scouts honour? I couldn't imagine Nikolai as a boyscout, actually, I couldn't imagine the manic as a child at all. I preferred to think of him as some sort of demon that just spawned one day as what he is now. What would a younger Nikolai be like? Probably the kind who went around setting bee hives on fire and stealing from the collection box at church.

"Strip, strip, strip! Don't keep me waiting, dove" Nikolai sang, tilting his head to the side, keeping an eye on me as he fiddled with the faucets of the bath.

"Kolya...?" I hesitated in pulling my nightgown off, the fabric bunching up in my grip.

"Hm?"

"Don't stare, okay?"

"You can count on me, love! But, you can't blame me if I do sneak a few peeks, alright? How am I supposed to bathe my girl without looking at her? Hm?"

My girl.

What an idiot. I wasn't his property, you couldn't own a person, didn't matter how long you kept them trapped in your basement.

Without any further trouble, I untied the bow holding my gown together, letting it slip down my frame and pool at my ankles, leaving me completely exposed and vulnerable at Nikolais mercy. I was quick to cover my chest as I hopped off the counter top, trying to keep just an ounce of my modestly intact.

"What a beautiful body-eck! Stupid Nikolai, stupid! She doesn't want you staring! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" The jester hit himself in the head a few times, muttering a string of different curse words with each smack.

"Ah, ignore me, dove. Go on! Baths nice and warm for you!"

I didn't need to be told twice, mumbling a quick thanks as I slid down into the tub. It felt like bliss, the bubbles popping under my weight and creating a tickling sensation on my skin. The water was hot, but not so hot you felt like you might boil to death. Just right.

I reached for the vanilla scented body scrub that Nikolai had layed out for me, only to have him grab my wrist before I could get a hold of it. "Ah-ah-Ah, allow me" He wagged his finger back and forth, grabbing the scrub himself and scooping a generous amount into his palm.

It felt wrong, his grubby hands on my bare skin. This should have been a luxury for me, something to enjoy, but I couldn't help but feel like a piece of meat on display. Mere prey, a toy to dress up.

And in a way I was.