#except i have taken hannah and made her an oc in my head

[mooooooosicals]

I used to be one of the top Hatchetfield blogs on here. Oh how the turns have tabled

[namluve]

paring: namjoon x reader

genre: smut with a hint of plot!

rating: 18+

warnings: unprotected sex (keep it safe), hard dom!namjoon, sub!reader, rough sex, rope bondage, orgasm control, orgasm denial, over stimulation, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), use of toys, use of harness, ice play, degradation, use of whore, praise, pussy slapping, ass play, slight size kink, mentions of alcohol, mentions of masturbation, use of colour system, squirting, cum play, OC crying bc she is so over stimulated, a little aftercare  

word count: 7.0k

summary: namjoon found out you had faked an orgasm. to say he wasn’t pleased would be an understatement. 

note: thank you hannah @spicykoreantatertots​ for betareading it, couldn’t have done it without you and also thank you heath @shadowsremedy​ for your love and support. it really meant a lot! also, everyone at HQ who knows what bed leg means, thank you so much asdjhgj. it’s been sitting for a while but here is the best smut piece i’ve written so far (if you ask me). enjoy! 

Prior to your night out, Namjoon accidently found out you faked an orgasm a week ago. He was on your phone, scrolling through the photos the two of you had taken together when your friend texted you at the worst time possible. 

Amanda [02:12 PM]

- Did you talk to him about it? 

- Does he know you faked it?? 

And that is the story of how Namjoon found out. He had been angry, of course, but mostly hurt that you would not tell him about it. 

The last couple of days, up until the evening out with your friends, Namjoon had been more distant with you. It hurt, you wanted to have him close to you after all. So, you decided to explain to him this morning why you had faked it, and also why you did not tell him about it. 

Honestly, it was embarrassing to you. You had been so close to the edge the entire night, your orgasm just around the corner, but something was off. Your mind was not in the right headspace at the time. You could not quite focus on the sex, ending up with faking your orgasm, rather than just telling Namjoon the truth. 

He wished you would have just told him. So did you. But in the moment, you made a split-second decision. Even though Namjoon understood that, he still wished you would have just told him. 

On your night out with your friends he was his normal self, although, a little bit more touchy than usual in public. The two of you had not had sex for a week, so you did not think much of it. But it was all a part of his plan to remind you to never do something like that again. 

You were surprised that Namjoon ordered you to go to the bedroom once the two of you came home, and wait for him there, naked. As you started walking towards the bedroom, he disappeared into the kitchen. 

Namjoon came into your bedroom about five minutes later, you were sitting at the edge of the bed, naked. Hands on your knees and eyes low. Not speaking unless you were told to. Just how Namjoon had trained you. He smirked, loving how you did exactly as he told you to. Just like any other night. Except this time Namjoon had some other plans. 

Firstly, he went over to your wardrobe and pulled out the rope the two of you had bought a couple of months prior. Choosing the rope over the silk told you he was tying you up for punishment, not reward. 

“Lay down, legs spread.” You obeyed his command at once, turning around to crawl up the bed when you heard his voice again, “No no, stay at the edge.” 

Laying down at the edge, feet on the floor, you really wondered what Namjoon had in store. No matter how many times the two of you got intimate, you always wanted to cover yourself up while Namjoon was still preparing. While you were nervously waiting for what was about to come. Your hands started moving up but Namjoon caught it as he was untying the rope. He hated when you covered yourself up. Always wanting to have you on display for him and him only. 

“Are you really trying to make it worse for you princess?” You put your hands down beside your body immediately, but Namjoon just shook his head. The damage was already done. 

“Guess I really do have no other option than to tie you up. Here I was going to give you a chance to be a good girl.” Namjoon had no plans of that whatsoever, however, he loved to play games with you. Letting you think this night could have gone differently, that you had any other options at all under his mercy. 

“Hands up,” he spoke, and you did as you were told. Excitement filled your body, sending tingles down your spine and to your core. Taking hold of your hands, he spun the rope around your wrists, just like he had done many times before. Then he tied it and made sure you would not be able to get out of it. He had chosen the longer one of the three ropes the two of you owned, the one that was supposed to be used for full body bondage, originally in order to span the length of the bed. 

“Scoot up,” he told you and as always, you listened. You loved being his good girl after all, craving his praise even when punished. Scooting up with your hands above your head proved to be more difficult than you thought and Namjoon chuckled at your struggle. Barely making any progress on the matter he spoke again, “that’s enough princess.” He just wanted to see you struggle, see you be in need of his help. 

You felt a tug at your wrist as Namjoon secured the rope around the bed frame, your hands now tied together at your wrist, resting above your head and lastly, tied to the bed frame above you. Satisfied with his work, Namjoon took the second rope that he had placed on the bed in his hands. 

“Legs spread.” You did not need to be told twice, breathing heavily as you could not wait until Namjoon would start to play with you. You spread your legs. Pussy now full on display for Namjoon but all you could hear was a disappointed ‘tsk’. 

“How am I supposed to tie your feet to the bed posts if you can’t even spread them wide enough for the rope to reach?” At Namjoon’s words you tried spreading your legs even further apart, which you could. Not by much, but at least some. Looking at Namjoon’s face you could see he was still not completely satisfied, although he did not say anything. Namjoon squatted down in order to reach your legs, tying them one by one to the bed posts. 

With hands above your head, legs spread, feet tied to the end of the bed, you were in Namjoon’s hands. In this vulnerable position, you felt incredibly exposed but also very turned on by the fact that you were at his mercy. With a smirk, he took off his pants and shirt, getting more comfortable for what he was planning to do with you. You could see his semi hard cock as your eyes landed on his groin area, mouth-watering at the thought of how Namjoon would punish you with it. Namjoon on the other hand, had no plans on giving you his dick tonight, at least not any time soon.   

He got on top of you, looking into your eyes as he asked, “colour, words.” 

“Green,” you answered him. Knowing that ‘words’ meant you were allowed to speak. 

“Good girl.” Namjoon did not say anything after he praised you, which meant he allowed you to be vocal tonight. No holding in moans or pleas. Today, you were free. 

You got excited. Usually, you were not allowed to make sounds so early on when the two of you played and you were happy that you did not have to hold anything in. Namjoon saw the happiness in your eyes and he almost turned soft. Cute, she really thinks this is some sort of reward, he thought. Namjoon, after all, knew that the only reason he allowed you to be vocal tonight was because he wanted to hear you beg. Plead for mercy. 

And so, with that Namjoon started with the punishment he had planned for you. His fingers trailing up and down your thigh, going a little bit higher each time he brought them upwards, soon almost at your core. 

“Fuck… you look so pretty tied up like this,” at Namjoon’s praise you clenched your hole around nothing, his words affecting you and making you crave him. He smirked, looking at your pussy as you tried to raise your hips, with little success, barely moving upwards due to how tightly you were tied down to the bed. Namjoon got up from the bed, now standing in front of you, leaving you exposed and tied to the bed without his warm presence. 

“Aww… What is it princess? Are you feeling neglected?” Namjoon teased and you let out a whine as you pouted. 

“Yes… please sir, do something,” you plead as Namjoon got down on his knees, a mischievous smirk on his face. 

“Oh I will princess. Don’t worry about that. You will plead for my mercy before I’m done with you.” Inhaling a sharp breath at Namjoon’s promise you felt yourself start to drip down on the bed sheets as Namjoon watched your pussy, two hands on each of your thighs making their way up to your core. 

“Such a messy pussy,” Namjoon commented and you felt your cheeks turn red, clenching once again around nothing, desperately wanting to have something filling you up. Namjoon noticed this and he let out a low chuckle. 

“Such a messy whore, can’t wait to get her pussy filled up, can she?” Trying to get any friction at all to your core, you try to close your legs. Without any success of course as Namjoon had both of your ankles tied tightly against the end of the bed. 

“You’ll get what you deserve, don’t make this harder for yourself. You won’t get out of here for a while.” With that said Namjoon began to finally touch your core, slipping two fingers easily inside of your pussy to gather wetness as he made his way up to your clit, circling it at a slow pace at first. 

Soon he picked up the speed, making you whine and moan uncontrollably as your orgasm approached. As you felt the high build up, you started to beg for Namjoon to let you cum. 

“Please sir... let me cu-cum… I-I’m so c-close.” 

“No,” and with that he removed his fingers from your core, taking your orgasm away from you. Whining, you let a single tear out of frustration leave your eyes. Turning your head to the side, panting as you tried to calm down. 

“Let’s see how many ruined orgasms you can take before you beg me to stop.” 

Half an hour later and Namjoon was still not done with you. You tried closing your legs several times, but he had you all tied up, hands tied together to the bed frame, legs open wide tied to the foot of the bed. Eyes closed, tears at the corners of your eyes from all the denied orgasms. 

"I'm sorry," you cried out for probably the hundredth time this night but Namjoon just slightly shook his head, getting up from laying in between your legs to lay on top of you. 

"You're not," he said, grabbing your jaw with his hand, your eyes now wide open and staring into Namjoon’s as he continued, "but you will be." 

And so, he continued his punishment, trusting you to use the safe word whenever you needed to. His latest idea was bringing the ice cubes he prepared earlier from the kitchen. The break you got while Namjoon was getting them was well needed. Feeling as if your body was on fire. 

When Namjoon came back, he placed the bowl of ice beside you on your nightstand. Then he started by slowly dragging an ice cube over your swollen nipples as you arched your back and cried out, so sensitive to his touch. Closing your eyes because of the overwhelming feeling, you whined out a plea, almost pleading for him to stop.

"You even told Amanda about it… but not me," Namjoon was continuing to run the ice cube down your body, holding in between his fingers as he laid down beside you. In your defence, you really did tell your best friend everything. 

"Do you know how that feels? To find out your girlfriend's been faking orgasms and talking to her friends about it instead of her boyfriend?" You wanted to correct him. Using all your strength to form a sentence in between your whimpers and moans. 

"It was... only... one..." Namjoon stopped you before you could even finish your sentence, his hand giving you a light slap on your pussy. The stinging making you jump up and squeal, the ropes tied to your hands and feet not leaving much room for your body to move.

"I don't think you understand the situation you're in," he began, his touch leaving your body completely as he stood up from the bed. Looking down at you, Namjoon crossed his arms and 'tskd' at you before putting the ice cube in his mouth. Letting it melt in his mouth a bit before pulling it out. Turning your head, you could finally see him through your blurry, tearstained eyes. A devilish smile on his face.  

"You misbehaved, badly, and I need to make sure you learn your lesson so that this will never happen again," Namjoon said with a low voice. Your legs were shaking, and you tried closing them, as you had thousands of times tonight but just as all the other times, you were unable to. Not even an inch. Slumping your body down to the mattress, exhausted, feeling as if you had no more energy left, Namjoon could sense that you were almost at your breaking point. He decided to put the ice cube down in the bowl among the others. Sweat starting to drip from your forehead as you breathed heavily.

“Colour,” he demanded, and you answered, “Green,” in the hopes that he would make you cum. Hoping your punishment would finally be over and you would finally get to cum.

Instead, he opened the drawer next to your bed, as he had probably done about seven times already tonight or more, pulling out yet another toy. This time, one of your favourite ones. The wireless bullet vibrator that could be controlled through an app on Namjoon's phone. His one last punishment for the night. 

Normally, you would be excited to see it, knowing what mood Namjoon usually is in when he brings it out. Tonight, you just hoped he would have a tiny bit of mercy on you. As Namjoon went over to the wardrobe to pick out one of your harnesses, you knew that was not what he had in mind as he had chosen specifically the one that is really good at keeping the small vibrator on your clit. 

"This is just the beginning baby girl, if you only knew the ways I have imagined to punish you... Ever since you walked around the house with that ridiculously short skirt the day after I found out you had faked it. You had no idea how mad I was," he told you as he put the harness on you that went over your hips and around your legs, "but you will know because you won't even get out of bed when I'm done with you. I can promise you that." 

You believed him, you already felt like you would not get out of bed tomorrow. Thank God it was Saturday and you did not actually have to get up and do anything. Your legs were already incredibly sore, countless times had your body tried to close them when Namjoon brought you over, over and over again to the edge. Never letting you fall over it. 

Namjoon picked up your phone, unlocking it and opening up the app for the wireless vibrator. The thing with this model was that if you connected the vibrator to the one that it would be used on as well, it had a button for you to use, in case you needed everything to stop. Pressing the button meant turning off the vibrator, immediately. A way for you to use the safe word essentially, if Namjoon was not in the room. 

As he placed your phone in your hand, you quickly realized Namjoon would continue out his punishment. Just probably from somewhere else. He had done this once before, when you were out at a party and he had to stay at home to finish some work. In the beginning of the night you did not feel anything, so after a few drinks you completely forgot about it. It was not until Namjoon was done with his work and bored that he turned it on. Safe to say, you were home within half an hour, begging Namjoon to properly fuck you. 

“Press it whenever you feel like you need to, okay princess?” You nodded at his words. Normally, Namjoon always wanted a verbal response from you but he knew how sore your throat must be by now. Placing a kiss on your forehead, Namjoon whispered. 

“You are taking your punishment so well,” another kiss, now placed on your cheek, “such a good girl… but I’m not done with you yet.” 

Meeting his eyes, you saw how his face had softened. A whole new aura presents around him. He was back to his usual soft dom self, you thought. 

“I’m gonna leave you here princess and turn on the vibrator occasionally while I get some work done. Okay?” You weakly smiled at him as you nodded. 

“Yes sir… I’ll be good,” you whispered. Voice sore from all the crying and moaning. Namjoon softly kissed your lips for a brief moment before pulling away, resting his forehead against yours. 

“You always are… My good girl…” He cooed before pulling away, looking at you with so much fondness that your heart skipped a beat. Knowing you are his, and he is yours. 

His warm presence soon left you and Namjoon got out of the room. Leaving you with the vibrator on your clit, tightly pressed by the harness, tied up to the bed with no way to leave. Unless, of course, you reached your limit and pressed the button on the phone that would end it all. 

For the first fifteen minutes, nothing happened. You could hear Namjoon was in the shower, probably jacking off from being so painfully hard the entire time he had played with you. That was how your mind started to wander, imagining your boyfriend in the shower, his brows furrowed together, his cock in his right hand stroking it slowly. Circling his fingers around the tip, dragging his precum around. 

You needed to cum, you needed to cum now. Wiggling around as much as you could, you wished for Namjoon to turn on the toy. At this point you did not care if you came without his permission. You desperately needed to. 

So, when Namjoon got out of the shower, you felt the vibrations of the toy for the first time. Painfully low vibrations that stayed on your clit for about ten seconds, not nearly enough what you needed in order to cum. 

It went on like that for over ten minutes. Namjoon would start the toy for a few seconds, turning it off for a minute or two before turning it on again before he stopped, and you heard his footsteps outside of the bedroom. 

As he opened the bedroom door you turned your head towards him, squinting as your eyelids felt heavy against your eyes. Your body exhausted from the countless times you had been brought up to an orgasm, only to have it ripped away from you. Namjoon carried a tray with a glass, lotion and a bowl as he walked into the room, placing it on the nightstand beside you. As he took the phone from your hand and placed it on the tray you closed your eyes, your body relaxing. The punishment was over. Of that you were sure. 

“You did so good princess,” Namjoon cooed as he began to untie the rope around your wrists, “such a good girl taking her punishment so well.”

Once he was done untying your wrists and gently pressing kisses all over them, he moved on to your ankles, untying the ropes that held your legs open and took off the harness that was around your hips. Placing the harness and the toy on the floor beside the nightstand. You winced at how sore your legs felt as you started to move them and Namjoon shot you an apologizing smile.

“You did so well baby girl, you can rest now.”

“No,” you firmly said, shocking Namjoon.

“No?” He questioned and you continued.

“I need to cum sir. I need to cum so bad. Can I please cum? Please sir, I promise I won’t lie to you ever again. I promise I’ll be good,” pleading as Namjoon watched you slowly sat up, being at eye level with him as you made your last plea, “please let me cum on your dick.”

Namjoon’s cock twitched in his pants and he felt himself growing harder by the second as he listened to your pleas. Still, he was afraid you would not be able to handle it, considering this had been the hardest punishment you had received yet by him.

You on the other hand, knew what you wanted. You wanted to cum, and you wanted to cum now.

“Are you sure baby girl? You don’t have to do anything to please me. I’m already pleased that you took your punishment so well.”

“Yes sir, I’m sure. Fuck… just let me cum. I need to cum,” you emphasized. Hoping Namjoon would just get to it before you took the matter into your own hands, literally.

Namjoon furrowed his eyebrows together, watching you as he reached out his hand so caress your cheek and you leaned into his touch. Craving the intimacy he had not been giving you all week. Looking into your eyes, searching for any doubt on your part, Namjoon studied you for a second before making his decision. In your mind, you were afraid of yet another punishment before you could get what you want, afraid that the slip up of the word ‘fuck’ would get you in trouble. Namjoon was never a fan of swear words leaving your mouth when the two of you were in your roles.

“Okay princess… But know that the next time you swear I won’t let you off the hook so easily,” he promised, and a smile lit up on your face, “now how do you want me? Tell me exactly baby or you will get nothing.”

You thought about it for a second. You wanted him close. As close as you could have him.

“I… I want you on the side,” you whispered out, your shy submissive nature coming back. Namjoon continued to caress your cheek, looking deep into your eyes.

“Yeah? What else baby? Tell me more,” he encouraged, and you closed your eyes for a bit.

“Behind me… Want you to hold me,” you whined out and he chuckled, eyes still set on yours.

“Does my princess want to be held? Want me to make love to her?”

“Please sir… Please make love to me…” With the soft-spoken words that left your mouth, Namjoon could never say no to you.

“Okay princess,” and with that, Namjoon’s hand left your face to take his shirt off. When his white t-shirt hit the floor, you could not help but to marvel at the beauty that was right in front of you. His defined shoulders, breath-taking chest and stomach that made you want to worship it all. Hesitantly, you brought up your hand, eyes going up to look into Namjoon’s again. Finding them instantly as he was already watching you.

“May I… Can I touch you sir?”

“You may do whatever you want princess, this is all about you,” his words were soft, filled with care, lust and love. As you began to trail one hand down his chest towards his v-line, he grunted, brushing away the hair that was covering your neck and started to place gentle kisses.

“I’m all yours,” he whispered, and you moaned when he kissed you just below your ear, working his way up to your lips.

“Show me… please sir… show me,” you begged as you moaned and Namjoon knew exactly what you wanted.

Meeting you in a gentle kiss, Namjoon took the opportunity to worship your body with his hands. One of his hands rolling a nipple between his fingers, making you gasp at the sudden pleasure. The other resting at your hip, drawing small circles on the skin. Pulling away from the kiss, he let go of your nipple, a whine at the lack of lost escaping your lips as he caressed your cheek.

“Lay down on your side for me princess.” Obeying his orders, you laid down on the bed as you heard Namjoon taking his pants off behind you. The zipper on his jeans going down, the rough material making noise as he dragged it down his legs until it was thrown somewhere on the bedroom floor with a thud.

Laying down behind you, you felt Namjoon’s hard cock pressed against your ass as he took his arm around you, pulling you in closer to him. Your body was sweaty, and you almost felt bad for Namjoon who had just gotten out of the shower. Keyword, almost. Now that he was here, behind you with his arm wrapped around you, body pressed against yours, you could not help but to think that he will manage.

Pressing a kiss against your back as he wrapped one hand around his cock to guide it to your entrance, you inhaled a sharp breath as you felt the head nudging your entrance.

“Shh princess, need you to relax. Don’t want to hurt you okay?” Namjoon whispered in your ear and you took a deep breath. Letting your tense shoulders fall down and finally relax for the first time this evening.

Namjoon kept pressing kisses against your back, moving closer to your neck where he nibbled on your ear before whispering the words you wanted to hear for so long.

“You ready for me princess?”

“Yes sir,” you moaned as you tried to relax as much as possible. Knowing what a stretch it was every time Namjoon entered you. Knowing today, after all the edging, you would most certain be tighter than usual. All you could hope for was that the wetness dripping down your thighs would help him as he entered you.

Still holding his cock in his hand, Namjoon began to slowly push inside of you. Letting go of his dick once the head was fully in, he wrapped his arms around you. His face was nuzzled into your shoulder, letting out a small groan as he was more than halfway in. The wetness making it easy for Namjoon to stretch you out with his big cock, the slight burn you thought you would feel nowhere in sight. Only feeling pleasure as he entered you.

As soon as he bottomed out, you whimpered, arching your back as you tried to push him further inside of you. As you arched your back you created space between you and Namjoon and he was having none of it. He hugged you tighter, wanting you to be closer to him and not further away as he cooed into your ear, “such a good girl, taking sir’s cock so well.”

Kissing your neck as one of his hands went to play with your breasts, you sighed in relief. Finally, you would get what you had been craving all night. Namjoon’s touch and being able to embrace it, being able to cum from it. This was heaven and you let all the pleasure you were feeling cloud your mind, not thinking about anything else besides what you felt in the moment.

“Let me know when I can move.”

“Mhhm, you can move, please…” Even in your fucked-out state you did not forget to ask Namjoon nicely. Just like the good girl you are, he thought.

“Okay princess, let me know if it gets too much yeah?” You mumbled a ‘yeah’ back to Namjoon right before he started to slowly fuck your tight hole, having to take a hold of your hip from stopping you rocking back into him, wanting him to go faster, chasing your own orgasm the second he entered you. His hand still playing with your boobs, rolling your left nipple between his fingers. 

“So… fucking… tight…” Namjoon mumbled to himself but you heard it, his head still resting on your shoulder. Letting out a small moan at his words, Namjoon smirked, knowing you had heard what he said.

“My princess likes it when I call her pussy tight huh? Because it is. It is so fucking tight. I can barely even fit in you princess,” he whispered in your ear, earning a soft moan from you as he continued, “This is all I was thinking about while I was in the shower. Me, fucking your tight pussy. Hearing your sweet moans, seeing your fucked-out face. I came to the thought of your pretty face looking like this while I pounded your pussy.” His words were just turning you on even more, that is, if that were even possible right now.

Your suspicion had been right. He had been jerking off earlier while in the shower. Knowing you made cum, made him so turned on that he could not wait any longer and took matters into his own hands, literally, made you proud and happy. Happy that you had the same effect on him, as he had on you.

As Namjoon kept slowly fucking into you, going a little faster than before now, you could not help but picture him in the shower. Water dripping down his naked toned body, brows furrowed together as his hand pumped his cock vigorously. Clenching your pussy at the thought of it, you heard Namjoon let out a low moan behind you as you squeezed tight around his cock.

His grip on your hip tightened as he pounded harder into you, not faster, but harder. Wanting you to squeeze around his cock for as long as possible. The moans that came out of your mouth were sinister and Namjoon was proud of the fact that he was the one causing them.   

“I bet you would let me do anything right now as long as you got to cum. Am I right princess?” Namjoon felt the urge to make you even more fucked out. Wanting to hear you plead once again, just as you had done when he gave you your punishment. You had looked so sweet, so fucked-out from all the pleasure you were receiving. Tears had been leaving your eyes from all the stimulation you had been receiving and that is where Namjoon wanted to have you again. Crying out from all the pleasure you were receiving, not being able to escape it as you laid on your side flushed against him.

Moaning out a ‘yes’ you felt as Namjoon slipped out of you and you cried out in frustration.

“I know baby, I know,” he cooed as he let go of your breast, sneaking down his hand between your bodies, fingers playing around in your wetness. Namjoon had something else in mind, wanting to try out his theory and make you plead. Still wanting you to regret ever faking that orgasm with him, making you cum so hard you would not even dare to think that thought ever again.

His fingers moving upwards from your pussy, grazing by your asshole where he began to circle one finger around the tight rim muscle. You shuddered, letting out a small whimper.

“Oh,” you sighed, as Namjoon smiled into your neck.

“Yeah? Would you let me play with your ass while I fuck you princess? Fill both of your holes?” The thought excited you and you could not help but to nod, the thought of having both of your holes filled making you back your ass slightly into Namjoon’s hand.

His fingers left your ass as they went back to his cock, holding it as he entered you again before going back to your ass, still slick with the wetness he had gathered. His pointer finger circling around the rim of your ass before he slowly pushed it in while he thrusted into your pussy with his cock slowly, earning a moan from you. The feeling overwhelming. The slight burn completely masked by all the pleasure you were feeling. He stayed still once his finger was two knuckles deep, wanting to give you time to adjust.

“Colour?” He asked, wanting to be completely sure that you still wanted this even though the two of you had done ass play before.

“Green sir,” you choked out. It felt like your whole body was on fire from all the stimulation you were receiving. It felt like heaven and hell at the same time.

With your consent, Namjoon started to slowly trust both his finger and cock slowly into you earning a long moan from you. His cock brushing against your g-spot with his long slow strokes and it did not take long until you were at the edge again. You needed something more though, you needed your clit to be stimulated.

“M-more… please…” Not finding any better words to use, you tried to beg Namjoon to touch your clit. Namjoon however, took it another way.

“Need more yeah?” He asked as you nodded, thinking his other hand would go to your clit. It did not. The arm he had been using as support to lay properly on the side next to you went under your neck, under the arm you had laying on the bed and stopped at your right boob, grabbing it harshly. You arched your back, trying to escape all the pleasure you were feeling.

“Is that enough princess?” He asked and you shook your head without even thinking.

“Greedy princess… Your wish is my command,” and with that, Namjoon added another finger in your ass, “is that what you wanted?”

You moaned as he slightly picked up the speed, his cock stimulating your g-spot, his two fingers stretching your ass, making you feel so full as his other hand played with your now swollen nipple. It was too much, way too much than what you thought you could handle. Yet, here you were, receiving pleasure you had never even dreamed of before.

This was all that took to push you over the edge, making you cum for the first time without stimulating your clit at the same time. Body shaking, tears falling down your face as your broken moans escaped your mouth, so loud your neighbours are most definitely hearing them. Your pussy squeezing around Namjoon’s cock deliciously, making him moan.

“Fuck princess… I can’t hold it…” Namjoon slipped his fingers out of your ass and you winced before choking on your spit. His hand had quickly found your hip and he was now fucking you at a relentless pace through your orgasm.

You started seeing stars, cumming so hard it felt as if you were peeing. Namjoon was chasing his own orgasm as he fucked you through yours, dragging it out so long it almost became painful before he came, grunting in your ear, holding your boob tightly in his hand. His load filling you up deliciously as your thighs started to feel unreasonably wet once you came down from your high.  

“Wow…” Was all you could say as Namjoon started to plant kisses on your shoulder. Gentle kisses filled with love as he slipped out of you. Closing your eyes, you tried to control your breath and calm down from all the intense pleasure you had been feeling. Come down from the height of one of the most intense orgasms you had ever felt.

As Namjoon sat up, letting you turn to lay on your back to rest he noticed the wet patch on the bed by your legs.

“Holy shit.” Upon his words, you opened your eyes to look worrying at him. He turned his head to meet your gaze, immediately seeing the worry in your eyes.

“Baby… did you just squirt?” Looking down, you saw the wet patch on the bed, your thighs feeling wetter than usual. You had just squirted for the first time with your boyfriend. As the realisation hit you, you turned to look at Namjoon, searching for his reaction. You were a little embarrassed as this had never happened before, at least not with Namjoon. You did not know how he would react.

Going down, Namjoon pushed your legs apart so he could make himself comfortable between them. He was in awe. Your glistering wet pussy with his cum dripping out of you on display for him. Only for him. You, on the other hand, was still confused, unsure what to say or do.

“Wha…”

“So fucking hot.” Namjoon cut you mid sentence, answering your questions all in one. At his words, you clenched your pussy, the sight of him in between your legs heavenly. As you clenched, a gush of his cum spilled out from you and Namjoon swore at the sight of it, bringing his hand up to your core.

With his index and pointer finger he gathered his cum, only to push it back into your pussy. Fingering you slowly to push it further in. A moan escaping your lips from the overstimulation as you closed your eyes, not being able to do anything else except trying to focus on breathing.

“My princess really came without any stimulation to her clit while I played with her ass and tits? Fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen and on top of that, she also squirted. Baby, I might have to edge you more often now if this is what happens.” You mewl at his words, feeling way too sore, you try to squirm away from him. Namjoon understood right away and removed his fingers from your core, crawling upwards to lay on top of you.

“Is it too much for my little princess?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah Joon… I think I’ve had it for days now,” you joked, and he smiled at you, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Think I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off you for days after you pulled this stunt?” He questioned, raising his eyebrows as you pouted.

“You had no problem keeping your hands to yourself for a week, think you can handle a few days.” You teased and he scoffed.

“Yeah but only because I was mad at you,” he told you truthfully and you put your arms around his neck, gently playing with the back of his hair.

“And now?”

“Now? Now I can’t get enough of you, gonna make you squirt every day,” he said with a smirk as he got off of you. Getting out of the bed, Namjoon quickly found his boxers and started getting dressed.

“Hey! No, you can’t do that! I won’t allow it!” You shouted as you sat up on the bed, watching as Namjoon made his way over to the bathroom. Upon your words, he stopped dead in his tracks, turning around to face you.

“Won’t allow it? Baby you’ll beg me to give it to you. We both know it,” he said with a smirk on his, capturing his lip between his teeth as he thought of the sight to actually get to see you squirt. You exhaled a sharp breath and Namjoon knew he was right when he meets your eyes. Desire burning in them at the thought of you underneath him, begging him to let you cum, to let you squirt.

“Now wait like a good girl while I get some towels to clean you up. You wouldn’t want to disappoint sir again would you?” Shaking your head, you waited patiently as Namjoon went into the bathroom to bring you two towels.

He came back with a one dry and one damp that he began cleaning your thighs and pussy with. You hissed as the cloth went over your clit. Namjoon let out a sigh, planting a kiss on your thigh.

“I’m sorry for punishing you so hard, I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.” He sighed, feeling a little bad for edging you for so long.

“I’m okay Joon, I would have told you if it was too much.”

“You didn’t tell me when you faked it.” The silence that filled the room had you biting down on your lip to stop the single tear that wanted to escape your eye. You regretted not telling him so much. If he only knew.

“I know… I’m so sorry, I won’t ever lie to you again. I promise Joon.” You told him truthfully and he looked up at you.

“It’s alright baby, I know you won’t.” He said and you believed him, just as much as he believed you would keep your promise to him. Smiling, Namjoon got up to wrap the dry towel around your body. Holding his hand out for you to take.

“Come on, let’s run you a bath while I change the bedsheets baby.” Smiling, you took his hand in yours, letting him lead you to the bathroom with your legs still slightly shaking.

After filling the bathtub, Namjoon helped you into the tub and you looked up at him with warmth in your eyes.

“Will you join me Joon?” You asked, hoping he would say yes. Loving how he would always cuddle you in the bath, massage your scalp and kiss your neck. He did not always have the time, sometimes he had work to do and you understood that, but you could not help but to be a little selfish today. Hoping he would join you and work overtime tomorrow.

“Of course, I’ll be right back once I’ve changed the sheets.” Namjoon said as he kissed your forehead before leaving the bathroom. Smiling for yourself, you could not believe how lucky you were to have him in your life. Never ever, would you lie to him again, ever. 

[reducttiddi3es]

Feels Right Monty x OC- Requested

REQUEST:   @vintagemac94 Hey🌸, I just came across your blog and loved the Monty love I saw there those two stories were pretty awesome. Could I pls make a request for MontyxOc where she has a boyfriend in college but when she moved to town and transferred to Liberty High she fell for Monty because of the amazing chemistry they had when they first met... As much as she wanted to stay loyal the connection her and Monty had proved too strong to ignore and she let the temptation take over💜. Tysm

I really enjoyed writing this, so much so that I had to split it up into parts XD. I will put the second part up soon(once I complete it that is)

hope ya’ll enjoy it. requests are always open.

WORDS: 1389

MASTERLIST

“Ok, babe. I’ll call you tonight. I can’t afford to go late on the first day of school”

“No, Soph, you call me in break time ok.”

“Ugh, fine. I love you but I really got to go now”

I hung up smiling about how much my boyfriend cared for me. We had been together for a little more than a year and it was going great. He was a little possessive but that’s because he loves me. Right?

I ran down the stairs excited for my first day at Liberty high.

“Morning, mom. Hey dad”, I said kissing both of them.

“Here, have your breakfast and then we’ll leave”

*

“Have a nice day, sweety.”

“Bye dad”

I walked into the massive property of Liberty high which was crowded with noisy teens. I looked around, there were the cheerleaders, nerds, punks and the jocks. Ugh.

I never really fit in with most of these groups. I am friendly but I’d rather be alone. But I had promised myself to make friends.

I looked around and spotted a boy and a girl talking, they seemed nice.

“Hey, I’m Sophie Miller. I’m new here, can you please tell me the way to the counsellor’s office”

“Hey, I’m Hannah Baker.”

“I’m Clay Jensen. Well I was just heading there to take the new students on the school tour.” He laughs.

“Well then you can give me a little preview” I said before we bid goodbye to Hannah and headed towards the counsellor’s office. Wow. Its gonna take some time to memorize all these hallways.

*

The day went by well, I had a few classes with Clay and others with Hannah, so I didn’t have to put in the effort of socializing.

I sat at their table during lunch. They were so sweet, and we talked about random stuff while they told me a little more about the school.

As soon as the bell rang, we all moved towards our next class, when I realized that the next class, I had neither Clay nor Hannah with me. They showed me towards my classroom before going off towards their own. I walked in slowly, almost as if I was walking into a dense cave. I walked slowly to a bench at the end of the class, satisfied that I had caught the attention of nobody, or at least that’s what I thought.

I managed to get away from the “new girl introduction” bit successfully. Since it was the last class of the day, I went out towards the parking lot wondering where my dad was.

*

 Things went on quite smoothly for the next few days. By smooth I mean little to no social interaction except with Clay, Hannah and a few teachers. It felt nice, like I could fit in, that I did not need my boyfriend as a barrier between me and the world. Jake (boyfriend) had asked me to call him at least 5 times a day. It was getting a little annoying, but I had to, after all he agreed to me going away to another town. It was the least I could do for him.

It had been almost a week in school and it is safe to say I still don’t know anyone other than Clay and Hannah, I mean I did make efforts to make friends but it seemed as if everyone had their friend groups filled already.

“Honey, I’m so sorry but you’ll have to walk to school this week”, my dad told me as he was getting ready to catch his flight to go on a business trip.

“Don’t worry dad, I CAN walk to school. It isn’t far” I chuckled.

*

Monday morning came soon, I got up realizing that I had to walk to school and so I had to be quick. But after all I’m as slow as a sloth bear. I ran, literally ran out of my house without breakfast, racing with the wind. God, I’m going to be late.

“Hey, careful.”

In the haste of getting to school on time, running like a mad-man on the streets, I did not realize when I bumped into someone.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking, so sorry.” I said sweating and almost at the verge of freaking out. “I didn’t see, I don’t- I’m sorry”

“Oh god, shhh, quiet”, that someone clasped a hand over my mouth with the other slowly rubbing up and down my back. This somehow immediately calmed me down. I looked up to meet the eyes of this kind stranger.

I looked into his deep hazel colored eyes, and I felt something. Something, that I can’t explain. Something I haven’t felt before. Something that was nice. I was so lost in his eyes that I did not realize that I had literally been gawking at him.

“You’re a weird girl, aren’t you” he laughed.

I snapped out of my bliss and gave him a confused smile.

“And a pretty one” he added, sending more shivers down my spine. His smile was so confident, so sweet yet almost like a smirk oozing with arrogance.

“Why are you walking to school today? Do you need a ride?” he asked.

I was shocked he knew as much as he did. And I guess it was written all over my face. He added “I go to the same school. I’ll give you a ride, it’s not very safe to leave you unsupervised right now”, he laughed.

He walked over to a jeep parked near the sidewalk and sat confidently in the driver’s seat, sure that I would follow him. And I did. I don’t know why I did it but I did. I sat down in the passenger seat.

“I’m Sophie. Sophie Miller” I said mustering up the most confidence I could and smiled at him.

“I’m Montgomery. Montgomery De La Cruz. But I prefer Monty” he said mimicking me. But I wasn’t offended, in fact I smiled at him wider than before. “Monty” I said softly.

*

The entire ride we spoke about tons of things. I’m not saying we had many things in common in fact we didn’t but it did not feel awkward. Also did I mention that that he was the hottest person I’d ever seen (still is). I hadn’t gotten the chance to see him that well considering I was near-freaking out over stumbling into him but when we reached school and he got off the car, the radiation of the morning sun hitting his skin in all the right places making him look more godly than he did before, had taken my breath away. Wow.

My feet carried me to class, my hands carried my books, physically I was in class but my mind could focus on nothing but Monty. His voice echoed inside my head; his soulful laugh made me smile like an idiot without realizing that I was in class.

“Miss Miller, is there something that you want to share with the class, so that all of us can laugh”

My face turned red at the teacher’s voice and I shook my head. The bell rang before she could go any further. The entire day, I barely payed attention to any class, my brain flooded with images of Monty (funny how I could imagine him in ways I’d not even seen him).

I absent mindedly walked out of the school towards home, still smiling wide. All of sudden a car pulled up next to me. The window rolled down.

“You know you can’t just ditch me, today morning was certainly not a one-time thing” he said smirking.

“N-no I was-“

“Oh God, just get in sweetheart” he laughed, the nickname leaving his lips effortlessly.

***

It had been a week and my dad was back home but I still drove with Monty to school. We had gotten incredibly close, I went to his games and we spent a lot of time together after school, gaming, listening to music, I even tutored him while he failed to teach me baseball. But the most wonderful time was when we sat together and talked about random things. Monty had gotten me to feel so good about myself, I had become more confident. It felt nice.

We were jamming to some music while riding to school when my phone rang.

Jake.

MASTERLIST

[keoghans]

Hey Chuck

Hello and welcome to this Chuck Grant fanfic. I always loved this dude, and I see little to no work about him, so, I took it upon myself to do fic about him. I invented a character, his love interest, because I cant write reader insert, I just, it bothers the fuck out of me to write like that lmao. 

Special mentions for @notmykirk @liebthots @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @alphapockets for proofreading, giving ideas and helping a distressed, nervous writer lol, you lot were brilliant!

This is super angsty, but also filled with fluff and stupid cliches. 

Pairing: Chuck Grant x OC

Warnings: angst, shitloads of angst. Mention of rape. Slight, non-explicit smut. Cursing.  

Word Count: 12k (I know, IM SORRY)

Epilogue 

Three knocks and an anxious wait.

The door was opened by the tall ginger that didn’t seem to ever age. 

“Hannah Davis! What brings you here?” he exclaimed with a broad smile as he hugged her smaller frame. 

“How are you, sir? You look great!” she replied and he furrowed his eyebrows at her answer.

“Hannah, the war is over, it has been for a while, I go by Richard, Rich, or Dick, please,” he said, as he let her in his house. He sounded the same, warm, emphatic, funny. 

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” she replied, checking out his living room. He lived in a beautiful, tall house, very homey. It had a fireplace on and a half finished drink on the nearby table. 

“My wife went to visit her brother, a man that’s never approved of me, so I stayed back,” he explained, serving another drink for her. 

“I remember when you first told me that he wasn’t fond of you and I wondered, how the hell does someone not like Dick Winters?” she replied and they both chuckled. 

“Her parents like me, and so does she, so… it doesn’t really matter”. 

Hannah didn’t marry post war, and it had been only a year, but most of Easy Company was already having children, marrying or at least dating. 

She had her heart set on someone but she had lost all contact with him and the Army didn’t help her trying to get what she needed.

So, after an hour and a half of reminiscing about the war, about Austria and the Eagle’s Nest, Winters caught up to her.

“Hannah, with all due respect… I know this isn’t just a casual visit, or you would’ve brought Luz or someone else with you,” he started, trailing off for her to speak. 

Hannah chuckled cynically, the man had always been prone to read people like a piece of paper. She struggled for a few seconds, her nerves coming back to her, scratching the back of her head absentmindedly.

“I’ve been trying to find someone… Someone from the Company, and I don’t want to ask the rest of the men because… Well, if this fails, I don’t want it to be gossip between them; and the Army couldn’t help me, they cannot give out information about former paratroopers,” she explained. 

“I have all of the men’s information with me, so, who are you looking for? Though—some information can be outdated, I haven’t updated it in a couple of years,” Dick said, looking for an old black book that had ‘Easy’ embroidered in the front.

“Say the name.”

“Uh… Charles Grant—NCO Chuck Grant.” 

Rick smiled softly, looking down as he looked for his name in his book. 

“What?” she asked, slightly embarrassed. He knew.

“Nothing. Sergeant Grant is an exceptional man, I felt deeply for him when he got shot,” he explained and placed a ruler under his name, handing the notebook to Hannah.

“I know he is, that’s why I’m looking for him,” she said, looking down at his name, copying the information of his address and phone number. 

Richard looked at her with his usual witty, warm smile. 

“Thank you, Dick” she said, closing the notebook and giving it back.

“Like my wife would say, ‘go get him’.”

///

Hannah had Chuck’s address and phone for a month and a half. 

Every time she thought about calling him, or showing up at his place, fear shook her body and threw her back to square one. She had taken a cab to her former Major in the Paratroopers for forty five minutes to find a man’s address and she couldn’t actually talk to him. 

Hannah laid in her bed, after a long day at the hospital. She was eating leftover carrot cake she had made a week ago, feeling dreadful, looking at the little paper with Chuck’s name sitting on her bedside table, and remembered the many times they shared. 

Bastogne was the coldest hell Hannah had ever experienced, and she knew it was never leaving her head after everything that transpired.

The trees exploded every now and again. As desperation settled inside each mind, everyone started wondering which was getting killed next. 

Then the casualties came: Joe Toye and Guarnere lost each other one leg to mortars, Don Hoobler accidentally shot himself in the leg and the blood loss took his life. Muck and Penkala got blown to pieces by another mortar. 

She had tried to save as many lives as possible as she had to shoot Germans from afar, fearing death every single second she moved around the snow covered forest.

She had short moments of peace, and most were laying in a foxhole, trying to gather some warmth, next to Chuck. 

Her body shook as she blew into her hands, trying to gain back feeling on her fingertips when Charles looked at her and grabbed her hands without a word, covering them with his calloused fingers, scooting closer to her. 

She was slightly taken aback. 

Chuck wasn’t a man of many words, he communicated more with his eyes and small expressions. He politely smiled at her as he rubbed his hands against her. 

“Thanks,” she muttered, nuzzling her chin deeper into her scarf that was tucked into her jumpsuit. 

Chuck just looked at her and kept rubbing their hands together. She noticed her blue eyes looking bright from the full moon shining down the forest. 

“I always hated the winter time, back in the states… and now more,” Chuck said, breaking the silence between them. 

“I know, I prefer to be burning under the sun rather than freezing my butt off.” 

“Cold beers,” he added.

“The beach.”

“Dipping into a river or the sea.”

Both exchanged small smiles. 

Chuck had always noticed Hannah, and stared silently at her many times, but barely exchanged a few words in the second year of their training, when she arrived in Toccoa. He knew she was Shifty’s friend, and someone who Winters relied on and trusted from what Powers had said to help her get into the Paratroopers. 

And she had proved herself useful, not only as a doctor, but as a sharpshooter, taking down snipers that others didn’t notice at first. She used to compete with Shifty on how many Krauts took down each.

Hannah always knew who he was, she remembered every and each name of the company, by nicknames mostly. He definitely called for her attention; he was polite, shy, only mustered a few jokes here and there, not like Luz, who couldn’t speak without joking. 

But she was never as interested in him until he helped her find warmth in a shattering cold in Belgium. 

Hannah remembered that with a smile—their first and probably closest interaction. It only took snow, people dying around them and a whole war for it to happen.

Friday, she thought, Friday would be a good thing for me to approach his house if, luckily, he didn’t move out before. 

///

Anxiety. Lots of. 

Hannah wasn’t on call at the hospital on Friday. She and her best friend, scheduled everything.

Angelina made sure she couldn’t back out of looking for the former paratrooper. She had helped her pick an outfit, helped with her hair, the whole ordeal. 

“Okay, go, go! It’s barely past noon, it’s a beautiful day, maybe y’all can go for a walk,” angelina said, taking a sip from her lemonade. 

Hannah was barely talking, her hands shook, she felt her pits damp with sweat, with a tight knot in her stomach. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, okay… I’m going, whatever, what could go wrong, what the fuck, he could only think I’m a fucking stalker, whatever right? Fuck—.”

“Oh my god, get out, I’ll take care of Trigger, let him have a stroll, and if by any chance you spend the night there—” she said, with a wink— “call me so I’ll stay and give Trigger his morning walkies,” Angelina commanded as she pushed Hannah through the door. 

“Good luck, honey!” She yelled as Hannah dragged her feet through the hot cement under the July sun. 

Every little thing that could go wrong played in her mind as she walked. Grant lived roughly twenty blocks away from her but she still wanted to walk there, to make it as slow as possible. 

Hannah checked the address in the small, torn piece of paper she had it written on and looked for 1612 for a bit, until she finally saw it.

It was a beautiful, tall white house, with a dark grey roof, a small porch with a couple of rocking chairs. A lot of small pots with flowers and different plants covered most of the front of the porch, which made Hannah think that there was clearly a woman living there. 

That made fear struck her again.

He’s probably married, there are rocking chairs and plants… none of the men of the paratroopers cared about fucking plants, why would Charles be any different? 

Fuck it.

Hannah shook her head, her curls moving along, stomped the ground after pondering for a couple of minutes, away from the house and took a few deep breaths before she walked up the three steps before the door and, with a shaky breath, knocked three times and took a step back, giving the door her back. 

She could sense her muscles completely tense, everywhere, arms, legs, stomach, and wondered why the hell she never got her anxiety completely treated like her PTSD from the war. 

What if a woman opened the door? I’d pretend I got the wrong house and run for the fucking hills. 

“Yes?” a deep voice said from behind her. 

Hannah could’ve swore her heart stopped for a split second.

She turned in her heel with the riddled feeling in her stomach when she met those bright blue eyes and the permanently tanned skin of Sergeant of Second Platoon, Charles Grant. 

His usual disheveled look was intact, she noticed, the droopy eyes and the resting annoyed face that was his trademark was still there, but it did change in a moment when he realized quickly who she was. His eyes widened as his jaw dropped slightly. 

“Hannah? Hannah Davis?!” he exclaimed, opening the door wider, taking a step forward shyly. 

Hannah swore her heart was thumping against her chest like a hammer, and was actually afraid Chuck would notice it. But all he did was try to find the words, stuttering slightly as he took a look at her.

“Hey, Chuck,” she said, trying to find her voice back from somewhere in her throat. 

Charles let a single chuckle out of his mouth before, sort of awkwardly, pulled her for a hug, crossing his left arm around her torso and the other one, around the shoulders.

Hannah was a hundred percent sure her heart could arrest at any moment and die right there. The man was hugging her. And she was hugging him back, the same way, when his perfume surrounded her and she closed her eyes for a moment, lingering her head above his shoulder, every single feeling she had ever felt for him rushing back into her stomach, untying the knot slightly, filling it with butterflies. 

“What a surprise! Come on in,” he said, as they parted, moving aside so she could walk inside first. 

Clean, super clean. The fact that the house was so clean yelled wife! in Hannah’s face. But she shook the thoughts aside, trying to focus on walking and trying not to bump into anything and make a mess of herself in front of Chuck. 

“You like it? I’ve been trying to decorate myself but… I don’t know, looks shitty to me still,” he added, standing next to her as she looked at old signs of tobacco brands, and a couple of paintings up white walls, complemented with an olive couch with three seats, a coffee table and a TV in front. 

And books, everywhere. Different sized, colored, some put in a small library in the corner, near the couch. Some were sprawled over on the coffee table and one on the couch, open and faced down. 

She took the books as the cue to find out and get it over with. 

“You and—and your wife must read a lot,” she said, sniggering internally as she awaited for an answer. 

Chuck let out a hearty chuckle, looking suddenly a bit embarrassed at her. 

“Uh, I’m not married,” he said, forming a thin-lipped, awkward smile on his lips. Hannah felt how her shoulders relaxed at the information.

“Oh—sorry, it’s just… It looks very homey, and you know, women do that work mostly,” she said, trying to sound innocent. 

“I learned a bit from my mom, and I found out that I really enjoy gardening and plants in general, that’s why there’s that many on the outside porch. Luz told me I was becoming a woman, I said, ‘what’s wrong with being a woman’?” Chuck said, scratching the back of his neck. 

“He fought side by side with one, and he still says that crap?” Hannah asked, remembering George Luz, the clown of the company. “Fuck him, I like how it looks, it’s homey and… looks warm, you know?”

Chuck nodded his head proudly, trying to shoot down a smile that tried to creep up, slightly blushing. 

“Listen, I was roasting some chicken, are you hungry? I have beers, too,” he said, pulling her by her wrist softly. This touch sent electricity up Hannah’s arm as she nodded silently, following him. 

She was sort of surprised by his cheerfulness. He was a very lowkey man, never spoke too loud, unless he wanted to mock one of his peers with Luz or Guarnere. He fumbled around the kitchen for a bit, before going through the back door to the backyard, where he had a barbecue against the wall.

And she could see him work, cutting up the chicken while it was still roasting, and noticed how he hadn’t put up any weight since coming back from the war, or losing any from the anxiety and PTSD. He had kept in form, his arms still big, as his shoulders, the black sleeves of the shirt sticking tight against them. 

Jesus, stop that! 

Lost in her thoughts, looking around the kitchen, she didn’t notice Chuck was back with two small sandwiches in hand, leaving them on a couple of plates as he quickly moved to grab two Crystals. 

“My brother taught me this amazing sauce, and it’s like pulled pork, but pulled chicken,” he explained, almost proudly of his handiwork. Hannah smiled and took a bite on it. 

Instantly, she had to suppress a moan that was about to fall out of her full mouth, as she widened her eyes at him. He smiled as he chewed and nodded his head like saying I know, right? 

After downing her bite with a bit of beer, Hannah finally breathed out to compliment his food, making Chuck blush again. 

“So, uh… what brings you here? Did you need anything?” Chuck asked, taking a sip of his beer again. 

I wanted to confess that I had feelings for you since you helped me warm up in a foxhole in Bagstone and you saved my ass when I got shot and you dragged me into a jeep to be taken away for a bit to heal, and I always wanted to kiss you for that but I’m such a fucking wuss, I never even dared to flirt. 

“Oh, no, no, I didn’t come to ask any favors, no,” she replied, chuckling nervously, “I—I’m gonna be honest with you; when we came back from Europe, I knew you had to do some recovery from the shot you took, that would need rehabilitation and… I was dealing with so much I couldn’t stay and I felt like shit for a long while for that—Shit, this sounds like I’m doing this to sleep better at night but no, I just want to say: I’m sorry, I should’ve been there like you were when I lost my ear to a kraut bullet, Chuck, I’m really sorry, and I wanted to check on you, see how you were doing…” 

It wasn’t a complete lie, Hannah knew that, but she still felt like what she needed to actually say was heavy in her chest. 

Chuck smiled, and turned his head slightly, pulling his hair up a bit. 

“The scar goes all the way to the back of my head, I—I should’ve died by the extent of my wound, but, it was mostly sup—superficial. My left arm is partially paralyzed,” he explained, lifting both arms at the same time but the left one was left behind as the right kept going up. “And sometimes it’s hard to s—” he closed his eyes as he struggled to say the word, his tongue frozen in the roof of his mouth for a couple of seconds— “speak, like, right now.” 

Hannah looked sorry, like a dog with a tail between its hind legs, feeling ashamed. 

“Don’t feel bad, I had my family and some of the men to help me, and very good doctors too, really, it’s not like you had to take care of me, you know,” Chuck added, grinning warmly at her. “George, Doc Roe and Speirs came almost daily to help, I was set; speaking of wounds, how’s the ear?”

Hannah moved her hair away to show him the scarred and dusty pink skin that reattached to her head after it got blown off in the Battle of the Bulge. 

Bullets and mortars were falling down the territory Easy Company covered. As much as anyone avoids talking about fear, they were all terrorized; the lack of winter gear, clothes, ammo, and food kept them all weak.

Hannah and Chuck were shooting non-stop, both with shaky breaths as they were still covered under a wool blanket, where only the gun and their eyes could be seen. 

“Hannah! Hannah, go help Shifty!” she heard Lip call her as he ran past. She sighed, not wanting to be any closer to the flying gunshots that were showering horizontally on them. 

“Go, it’s okay, go!” Chuck exclaimed, looking at her swiftly as he kept shooting. 

Hannah groaned in annoyance but still climbed up the hole. 

Chuck watched at her go, though her walk got cut short. She froze in her place and he knew something was wrong, and in a split second, she was on the cold ground, yelling her lungs out.

“Shit, shit, shit, hold on, Hannah! Medic!! Medic!!” he yelled as he let his rifle in the hole, crawling to check on the brunette. 

As soon as he turned her body around, his face grimaced in shock. She had blood flowing from her side into her cheek, eyes and mouth, as she gasped for a breath, steam coming from her mouth from the sheering cold. 

He moved her hair slowly, uncovering what was left of her ear, hanging from skin threads, almost completely shredded from her skull. It was an awful view, and the crimson liquid kept flowing and flowing. 

“What is it? Let me see, Grant, move!” Eugene Roe exclaimed, pushing the other soldier aside, checking the wound thoroughly. Hannah had stopped yelling, shock had settled in her body, covering her from the pain. 

“It’s superficial, but you will need someone to cut off the rest. Help me get her to the jeep, Grant,” he said after covering the hole with sulfate and a white bandage that went across her face. 

“Hannah, you’re going to be just fine, stay with us, come on!” Eugene yelled as Chuck lifted her from her back and legs, her face falling into his shoulder, bleeding on his jacket. 

Chuck glanced at her every few moments as he ran to where her ride was stationed, she looked paler by the second that passed, her eyes were closing and he had to keep calling at her to stay awake.

“Hannah, come on, come on, stay with me, stay with me!”

When she was finally strapped down the bed on the front of the sheet, he held her hand for a second before she was pulled away, disappearing into the woods as he had to ran back to his foxhole and keep defending their territory. 

But he kept wondering and wondering about her, until she came back two days after. 

“You came back almost good as new, ear-less, stitched up,” Chuck said, reminiscing.

“And I had to tolerate thousands of ear related jokes for weeks, and got called ‘Earnnah’ too” Hannah said, making them both laugh.

“Fucking Luz and his nicknames,” Charles said, shrugging.

“Anyways, I still don’t have an ear, but the flu I was going through had clogged my eardrum and saved me from being deaf on one side, right?” Hannah added, lifting her beer bottle to cheer for that.

“To the flu, baby!” he said and both drank.

A couple of hours went by and both Chuck and Hannah were already feeling more comfortable in each other’s presence. They laughed about some anecdotes, and updated on their current lifestyles.

“So, a tobacco store?” Hannah said, standing under the sun in the backyard, enjoying the warmth of a summer afternoon, much more relaxed. 

“Yeah, it was my post war dream, and I finally gathered what I needed to open it, it’s in downtown, 5th ave and Charleston. It’s cosy, small, but good enough to sell small things,” Chuck explained, clearly proud of his achievement. “You should come by sometime”. 

“I would, but I quit smoking a few weeks ago,” Hannah replied and Chuck looked surprised. 

“Really?” he asked, propping himself against a column he had set to sustain a small roof he had put up in his yard. 

“Yeah, but I’ll probably hit withdrawal soon and I’ll go back to square one quickly,” she replied, mocking herself and her power of will, making Chuck laugh.

“You still sing?” Chuck asked, and she knew exactly why he asked. “I still remember when we found that piano in the Eagle’s Nest, and you sang a few songs to us,” he said and a very small grin creeped up his lips, looking down at his hands. 

That was one of Hannah’s proudest moments. 

“I do remember that, and I still sing, yeah.”

The war had lightened up, somehow. 

Easy Company was on the works to clear the way into the old Nazi Town of Kehlsteinhaus, where they knew, at the top of the mountain, resides the crown jewel of the Nazi Party. A very glamorous house made only for Hitler and his closests friends. 

Winters dictated for the Easy Company to head straight to the Eagle’s Nest, after raiding the town and finding a place to settle for a bit. 

Hannah heard Speirs yelling the orders and they didn’t even think for a second before they started running up the mountain road towards the House. She ran next to Chuck, Popeye and Malarkey. 

They entered the premises slowly, looking around for Krauts, their guns up in arms. And all of them were surprised by the size of the place from the inside. 

It had grey walls, with bay windows every few meters, the sun shining through, illuminating the whole place. There were a few tables with a few chairs each, some silver plates and vases scattered around the living room, a fireplace, and on the far end, a grand, black and shiny piano. 

Hannah was immediately drawn to it, forgetting about the men popping bottles of champagne they found lying around, remembering instantly the songs her grandfather had once taught her when she was younger. 

The boys weren’t paying attention until they heard the first few notes Hannah pressed on. 

“Davis, you can play?” Spiers asked her as they got closer. 

I waited till I saw the sun, don’t know why I didn’t come

Hannah started singing, as a way to reply Speirs. 

Chuck was certainly taken aback by her singing voice, she had never mentioned before she could do that, that she had even learned or anything she did apart from training for the paratroopers and hang with Shifty. 

When I saw the break of day

I wished that I could fly away

Instead of kneeling in the sand

Catching teardrops in my hand

Her fingers seemed to be dancing around the keys like she had been doing that for a lifetime, as her voice shone through the notes she played. There was a sudden peace brought by the song, which no one could remember having heard before that moment. 

Chuck sensed his body relaxing, as he looked at the brunette who met his eyes not too long after.

My heart is drenched in wine

But you'll be on my mind

Forever

For a fleeting moment, Chuck felt no one was there but him and Hannah, as she kept singing, his breath catching in his chest, leaving him breathless. He knew he had been looking at Hannah with different eyes for a while, but he never actually realized it completely until that moment. 

Something has to make you run

I don't know why I didn't come

I feel as empty as a drum

I don't know why I didn't come

I don't know why I didn't come

“From then on, you guys would ask me to sing every time we found a piano laying somewhere in the abandoned cottages,” Hannah remembered, smiling at the memory. 

“Well, you do have a beautiful voice that puts everyone at ease, you know,” he complimented and Hannah could feel how her pulse accelerated at his compliment, cursing herself internally for being so weak for her former NCO. 

“It's mid-afternoon, care for a tea?” Charles asked, when he noticed her blushing, not answering his compliment, knowing he had hit somewhere inside her with it. 

“I can make a quick cake with anything you have in your kitchen, if you want to…” Hannah said, almost rushedly, trying to cover her tracks. Yeah, that doesn’t sound weird at all, Hannah, you fucking wuss, offering to bake a cake after a couple of hours chatting and trying to cover your stupid feelings, sure, yeah. 

“Kitchen’s all yours,” Chuck said with a grin, looking for his kettle to boil water while Hannah looked for her ingredients for a classic vanilla cake. 

As Hannah whisked the ingredients, Chuck served two mugs with boiling tea, placing one next to her as he watched her focused in his kitchen. 

“I swear, most men of the company don’t have all this stuff laying in their kitchen,” she said, still looking down at the mix.

“I’m not most men,” Chuck replied and both chuckled at his comment. “Oh, look here,” he said suddenly, making Hannah turn around.

A black cat with a small bell in his neck walked in, stretching its legs, and walked up to Chuck, placing its front paws in the dirty blonde legs. 

“This is Roe, I got him a few months ago, he walked in with a broken hind leg and never left this house,” Chuck explained, taking the cat into his arms, which made him start purring loudly. Hannah proceeded to pet him, sliding her fingertips slowly in the soft fur of the head. 

“He’s so handsome!” 

“Thank you,” replied Charles, earning a small slap in his arm by Hannah, who chuckled as she kept petting the kitty. 

“You saying you took care of this kitty reminded me of that nun who changed my bandages in Foye, in that church, remember that? She came straight to me, wondering how a woman is in the Forces, and silently, pulled my face and cleaned me up,” Hannah said, remembering the face of the woman in the black typical suit of a nun. 

“She didn’t treat anyone but you, which was either great or very selfish of her,” Chuck said, jokingly.

“She was in a convent, they take care of women mostly, and I am one, so…” she trailed off, wanting to slap the grin out of his face as she felt her heart melting to the view of Chuck, holding a cat between his arms like a child. My uterus is flipping about. “It’s not like no one took care of you boys.” 

“What are you talking about?” Chuck wondered. 

“Holland. All those women, and food, and drinks, and praising,” Hannah said as she put the mix in the oven. She could hear Charles laughing at her comments.

 “I wasn’t doing anything there, I did accept food though.” 

“Oh, Chuck, come on, I saw you with that blonde that was taller than you, kissing you non-stop,” Hannah exclaimed, way too quickly for her comfort, and turned around, pretending to check on the oven temperature; Could you be any more obvious, Hannah, dear?

“You sound jealous,” Chuck replied, with a smirk and furrowed eyebrows.

“I—okay, yes, I was; everyone was treating you all like goddamn heroes and whatnot, while I got questionable looks and fingers pointing at me for being a woman in a uniform… Hell, they must have thought I was the squad’s whore or something,” she defended herself, trying to not blow her cover that easy in front of his intense eyes looking at her from a few meters. 

Chuck felt bad for a moment. He knew she was proud of being the first woman fighting alongside men in a war, knowing she had earned the respect of many, many people, but there was still a long way to go to be accepted by the population in general. 

“Yeah, I wanted someone to kiss me too and give me drinks, I deserved that too, I didn’t have any physical contact with anyone as much as y’all in that time,” Hannah kept going, the anxiousness to cover herself up from showing feelings almost drowning her. 

“I’m sure you would’ve gotten a kiss if you just asked,” replied Chuck, taking a sip from his tea while still holding Roe. “I would have if you asked me.”

Did my heart just stop? Did it just… really stop? Quick, don’t linger in silence too much!

“You’ve always been such a gentleman, Grant, but that was impossible. First, we were in the Forces together and that was very forbidden. Second, I couldn’t ask people for that, that’s just sad and I didn’t look like any of the women there, my hair wasn’t done, I was wearing our uniform and probably didn’t smell the best there,” Hannah clarified, trying to not sound too rushed again. 

“Okay, yeah, partially true, but you don’t need to be all fixed up to be pretty, though.”

He knows and now he wants to play soccer with my fucking heart. Goodness, I hope he doesn’t know.

“To be honest, it’s not like I came back to the states and started dating and whatnot… I did adopt a dog, his name is Trigger, like the one Tab had back in the day,” Hannah said, trying to clear herself. “Oh, and Tab asked me out like a year ago,” she suddenly remembered. 

“Floyd?! R—really?” Chuck asked, clearly surprised. 

“Yeah, he showed up once, with flowers and everything. It was so sweet but Tab is like my little brother, so I let him down slowly and luckily, he accepted it and we’re still friends,” she explained, remembering how disappointed he looked for a second before she explained herself to him and he took it with humour and saved their friendship from awkwardness. 

All the while, Chuck laughed heartily. 

“What? Oh, don’t laugh at him! He’s so sweet, he was always nice with me, even when most doubted the presence of a woman at war, come on,” Hannah defended Talbert, throwing a paper towel ball straight to his face. 

“Hey! No need to get violent!” Chuck retaliated, throwing it back at her. “I can’t believe little ol’ Tab asked you out,” he added, chuckling. 

“You’re all always making fun of people who ask me out or flirt with me,” Hannah added, a sneer creeping up her lips. “Remember that one British soldier?” 

The Company had saved a hundred and forty brit soldiers, without any casualties. Everyone walked back to camp cheerfully but in silence until they entered the barn. 

Hannah didn’t feel as cheerful as the rest. She had been carrying a small infection under her tongue for a few days and cramps were attacking her every now and again, which she didn’t share with anyone trying to avoid some sexist comment about the nature of women. 

Booze was being passed around the brits and the company as everyone cheered and applauded for their exceptional work. Hannah did enjoy seeing all the grins and wide smiles spread around, while she stood in the side, leaning against a thin wooden column, rubbing her back to ease the pain. 

“Moose Heyliger and the American 101st have done the Red Devils a great service, making it possible for us to return and fight the enemy another day,” the captain of the British soldiers exclaimed to the crowd of paratroopers and the Red Devils. “To Easy Company, victory, and Currahee!”

Everyone cheered, drinking profusely, laughing and all around happy, until the same captain interrupted them for a second.

“Oh, and let us not forget to cheer for one more thing: the first woman in the Forces who was part of this mission, Miss…” 

Hannah wasn’t paying attention, she was completely zoned out on the side, until she heard her name being called a few times. She looked up to the Captain, who had his drink up and looking at her.

“Oh—Oh, Hannah, Hannah Davis!” she replied, a little startled. 

“To Hannah Davis!” The cheers erupted once again, but everyone was now looking at Hannah, who blushed furiously at the attention she was receiving. She just gave them all a tight lipped smile, her eyes drifting from one side to another. 

“So, congratulations are in order, ma’am.” A thick British accent interrupted Hannah’s thoughts a while after she had been cheered on. She turned around to find a tall man with a buzz cut, his red beret and a pointy nose. And a very warm smile. 

“Thank you, private…?”

“Joe Seaward, and it’s Sergeant now,” he clarified, taking his beret off as he took a drink. “How is the Force treating you? Good, I hope?”

“Very good, sir, they feel like family already. At first it was weird for them, but I was vouched for by the Battalion chief, and one of the men, who is an old friend from his hometown,” she replied, feeling slightly intimidated by the brit. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling comfortable. And hometown! Where would that be, if I may ask?” 

“Atlanta, Georgia. Can I ask you where are you from?” she asked, looking up at him. Hannah could feel the eyes of Easy on them, but she didn’t dare to look back at them. 

“Birmingham, born and raised,” Joe replied, looking proud. “Uh, anyone expecting you back home?” he suddenly asked, and Hannah understood what he was referring to. 

“No, apart from family, no one special,” she replied, and just got interrupted by another voice yelling at them.

“Sergeant Seaward! We’re leaving, come on!” Joe looked annoyed all of a sudden. 

“Well, ma’am, if this isn’t too forward, when this war is over, and luckily, we’re both still alive and well, why don’t you stay in England for a while and… maybe we can go to dinner together?” He said, rushing as he took a few steps back. 

Hannah thought for a second and, feeling like she had nothing to lose and after not being flirted by anyone in two years, she replied “Sure, Sergeant, if we both survive…”. 

Joe smirked deeply and quickly found a paper and a battered small pencil, scribbling in it and placed it in her hands, before kissing the back of it. 

“You’ll find me with that. Take care, Hannah Davis! Cheerio!” 

Hannah felt like a child meeting her first crush, blushing, with a dumb smile in her face, until she heard the sniggering paratroopers behind her. 

“What?” she asked, already looking annoyed at them as she turned to find them in a half circle around her.

“What was that ‘bout, Davis?” Bull asked with one lifted eyebrow. 

“Nothing–”

“Not nothing, that brit was flirting with you!” Liebgott exclaimed, his lip curled as his eyes darted between the door of the barn and her. 

“The fuck is the problem with that?” Hannah asked.

“No fraternization with soldiers in the Forces,” Chuck added, looking down at his hands. 

“Oh, fuck all of you. It’s the first time someone comes and tells me I’m pretty in two years, when y’all had women throwing themselves at you back at Eindhoven!” Hannah defended herself, shutting them all up. “It’s not like I’m actually going to do something about it, I might be dead tomorrow anyways”. 

“He looks stupid and he’s a brit, we’re all a better catch than him!” Martin added, inflating his chest. 

“The only decent man here is Doc Roe, and you all know that for a fact. I’m going to sleep for a bit, goodnight” she said, walking away from them, breaking the half circle without looking back. 

“I still have that small, battered piece of paper with me, but I never went to see him,” Hannah added, smirking at the thought. “I should’ve stayed in England and find him, honestly”. 

Chuck frowned, “why? Was he really that interesting?”. 

“He was sweet, he had a very attractive accent and hell, how many men do you know that say ‘cheerio!’ When saying goodbye?” Hannah defended Sergeant Seaward.

“Oh, stop talking talking about him already” Chuck said, dismissing her comments with a frown.

“Who’s jealous now, huh?” Hannah joked, pushing him slightly. Chuck just laughed bitterly.

///

Chuck showed her around the house, apologizing for forgetting to do a tour when she first came in.

He showed him some old pictures he had from high school that his mom had taken of him, some of his own family, and even a photo from a high school girlfriend he still had. Charles told him they were still in contact because her family was close to his, until he went to the war and she moved out of the usual address. 

“It’s like the time I was away, fighting, home became a black hole in my memory, like…It couldn’t possibly exist at the same time I was away.” 

Hannah enjoyed learning more from his past, and suddenly wondered if he had ever known what happened and how Easy reacted when they found out he had gotten shot. 

Charles was looking down at a picture when she popped the question. 

“Chuck, did you uh—did anyone ever tell you what happened with Easy when you… When that replacement shot you?” 

He suddenly took a seat on the couch, looking up at her. There was something on his eyes that she couldn’t decipher, but it was between fear and curiosity; his fingers went to linger over his scar absentmindedly. 

“No, I—the guys never told me anything, and I didn’t dare to ask, honestly.” 

“Do you, uh… Do you want to know?” Hannah asked. Chuck nodded, his lips seeming sewn shut. She took a seat next to him, the air suddenly completely filled with tension. 

“Well, you had patrol and we were relaxing in the house, playing cards, some asleep, most smoking and chatting about the end of the war. Also about the points, but, that’s not important.”

“Then, the door of the living room burst open with a pale, very pale and shook Tab. ‘Grant got shot in the head’ was the first thing he muttered. You know, there wasn’t any music around us, but it seemed like it had stopped. The relaxing atmosphere was cut off like when the lights go out with a switch.” Chuck was staring at her, his attention fully on her. 

“But we didn’t have that much time to like… process. Floyd had received orders to find the shooter, and we practically went around the whole town and the ones nearby looking for him. We had the order to bring him alive but neither wanted to lose the chance to put a bullet in him. We were organized in groups, and we divided in three or four people each.”

“We ended up finding him still in Zell Am See. Malarkey found him with Bull and Lieb, they found him trying—” She took a pause, her stomach turning slightly at the memory— “trying to rape an Austrian girl. She was saved, thankfully, and he was brought back to the house where he took the beating of his lifetime”

By that point, Chuck jaw was opened, but his eyes seemed calmer, somehow.

“Did you beat him too?” he asked. Hannah suddenly broke eye contact, looking down at her fingernails fidgeting together.

“Yes, but I only punched him, the rest did the real beating… I was so angry when I found out he was in the house, I burst through the door and went straight with my knuckles to his jaw. I had my hand bruised for weeks. You were away at that point, Speirs and Roe had found a Kraut brain surgeon and got him to work in you as soon as they could. But we didn’t know if you were alive or not. After the rest took their turn with the replacement, Speirs had come back, saying the surgeon confirmed you were going to be okay; then they dragged the son of a bitch over to the MP’s.”

Hannah felt ashamed, her body seemed to be burning when the memories of that moment revived in her.

“I was so scared you were gonna die, Chuck… I wasn’t there when Speirs confirmed you were going to be okay, and I just—I lost it at that moment,” she added, a knot forming in her throat. “Lieb found me, while I was sitting in a room upstairs, on a bed, in the dark, cursing and crying. It wasn’t only you that made me cry, but… I cared about you, you know. You were my friend, we went through the worst together and I thought I had lost y—,” Hannah’s voice broke, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. 

“Hey, hey, Hannah, I’m here, aren’t I?” Chuck said, scooting closer, placing a hand on her knee and another rubbing her back. “I’m sorry for scaring you like that…”

At that, Hannah snorted while she teared up.

“What are you apologizing for? For getting shot? Jesus, Charles, you didn’t ask for it, did you?” she joked through the tears and broken voice, making both laugh cynically. Hannah lifted her head and looked at him, and noticed how his eyes were watery. He sniffed as he tried to recompose himself, his hands never leaving the brunette.

“No, I know, but… I’m okay, you s—see? I just speak like I’m dumb or something now,” he joked. 

Suddenly, something took over Hannah and she hugged him, with her arms surrounding his shoulders completely. Chuck was taken aback at first, but he then wrapped his arms around her waist and stayed there for a moment, neither muttered a word, only sniffs and breathing could be heard. 

Hannah laughs, then smiles down at the picture of a younger Chuck. Some things change, and some things stay the same forever. Chuck is one of those things that never changes.

After a while, after a hug that helped both recompose and even sort of heal wounds that can’t be seen, they went back to rummage through old photos. 

“Oh, look at this one,” Chuck said, pulling a picture from his teenage years, where he was in just his underwear, surrounded by kids holding different pieces of clothing cheerfully “that was in the middle of summer, we were trying to fight the heat with water balloons and I got so soaked, my brother and my friends convinced me to take them off so they could dry. Me, being stupid and young, did so and they stole them and ran away.” 

Hannah laughed loudly, looking at Charles with apologetic eyes.

“How could you be so naive?” She asked, between laughs. 

“Hey, if I remember correctly, you got your clothes stolen once, in Haguenau! And you know it sucks, doesn’t it?” Chuck replied, jabbing his index on Hannah’s arm. 

Hannah had survived Bastogne, with the scarring of her life and one less ear. Everyone was changed, they had lost many men there, including Toye and Guarnere, Muck and Penkala, and lost Buck to shellshock. 

These days passed with nothing much to do but waiting for orders, some training, and finally, after the snow had passed, winter clothes. 

Second Platoon was stationed in a tall, two-story house, with many rooms, filled with beds and some tables. It was battered, most wallpapers looked torn, and the smell of humidity and gunpowder filling everyone’s nostrils.

On a cold morning, Hannah came back to the second floor, where Malarkey was introducing the new Lieutenant Jones to the men.

“Sir?” her voice, smaller than ever, turned everyone around. Some had to take a second look to be sure what they were looking at. 

“What happened to you?!” Don exclaimed, his jaw dropped. 

Hannah was shirtless. She was holding herself trying to keep the warmth of her body, with only a bra, pants and boots on. She looked red in the face, from the shame. Hannah could sense the eyes on her body, taking notice of every single scar she was sporting, and the bandage that was covering one on the side of her hip. 

“I was changing bandages, I turned for a second to get the sulfate and I heard someone running and laughing. I thought there were just some men playing around but they had taken my clothes, sir…” she explained. Everyone could hear the anger in her voice, her jaw clenching tight. 

“Jesus fuck,” Malarkey muttered, while Chuck proceeded to pull the sweater he used under his jacket and quickly helped Hannah put it on. “Lieb, MccLung, Jackson, go find the fuckers who did this, report to Speirs”. 

“I’m sorry, Malark, I—I didn’t want to make any trouble, really, I—,”

“No, don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, okay? Here, it probably smells but it’s better than nothing, I’ll have someone find some clothes if they don’t find yours,” Malarkey said, giving her his scarf, and went back to speak with Lt. Jones, who only nodded to her as a salute. 

“Come on, we made some coffee,” said Chuck, pulling her to where the kettle was in a corner. “Are you okay?”.

“Yeah,” was all she said, hiding herself in her copper mug, drinking the awful coffee they have been given. Then Chuck did something that she wasn’t expecting, but calmed her nerves quite quickly: his palm met the top of her head, and ran down her hair slowly. 

Hannah had seen the men do that to each other, when they had panic attacks or after the death of a fellow soldier, they would hold their heads or run their fingers through their hair. It seemed like a paternal way to hold them close and not let them fall into the abyss of desperation war brings in people. 

And now she felt it herself. Chuck’s fingers brought peace into her body, into her mind. She closed her eyes he kept going, enjoying that as well as the steam from the coffee meeting her cold skin. 

///

Not too long after, and from a window, Hannah and Chuck saw MccLung and Lieb dragging two soldiers from their jackets to Speirs and Winters. Joe talked furiously, clearly explaining what the two men did. 

Hannah chuckled cynically, knowing Speirs would have them doing the worst jobs for the Platoon. 

Her happiness didn’t last long, though. After getting new clothes, returning Chuck’s sweater, she found out, alongside the rest, that they had a patrol to get to at one past midnight. 

Everyone dreaded it, mostly because Second Platoon had lost the most people since Bastogne, and they still wanted them to do a senseless mission. They were ordered to cross the river into German territory and take prisoners to get intel. 

They still had hours to kill before heading to enemy territory, so Hannah decided to find some place to nap, after fixing and cleaning her guns and getting more ammo. 

She wandered around Second Platoon’s house until she found a room on the second floor. She opened the door, walking inside, and instantly found a sleeping body on top of the bed. 

“What? What?!” it said startled and looked up. Hannah didn’t notice at first but as soon as some light shone through the bullet holes on the wooden panels in the window, she saw Grant’s face. 

“Oh, sorry Chuck, I was looking for some place to sleep, I’ll leave you to—,”

“No, no, it’s fine… we can share,” he said from the dark, she could hear his hand patting the bed. 

Hannah thought for a second. She was exhausted, her body was still cold and there probably wasn’t a better bed in the whole house to nap in. 

So, she closed the door behind her and left her jacket and rifle on the floor, and climbed under the wool blanket. 

Under it, she was met instantly with Chuck’s warmth, her side wasn’t cold, as she expected it to be. There was calm, so much calm it was a bit unsettling for Hannah; last time she felt it, mortars fell from the sky and took her friends with the blast. 

But there was something about the gentleness of Chuck’s breathing that helped her, which she couldn’t explain, but silently thanked him for it. 

A few minutes passed when Hannah turned to her side, facing Chuck, who was already positioned on his side. She was unable to fall fully asleep, which was normal when someone tries to relax during a war. 

Hannah just stayed there in silence, eyes closed, her hand dropped on the mattress near her face, when she felt Chuck’s hand a few inches from hers. 

For a moment, she wanted to grab it. 

Hannah had noticed for a while that she was closer with Chuck than with the rest of the men. It was an odd friendship; it’s not like they talked for hours and hours on end but mostly in silence or with hushed, short conversations. But when she was with him, she didn’t feel as much fear as with the rest or alone in a foxhole. 

But he had always been there for her, like she was for him. Through every loss, through every problem. There was an implicit deep trust between them that neither acknowledged with words, but with simple actions. 

And to her, he was certainly an attractive man; with dirty blonde hair, an inviting smile, always polite and shy. And Hannah knew she had felt sometimes a bit of a butterfly in her stomach when he smiled at her. 

Suddenly, her thoughts were hushed when she felt his fingers wrap around hers. 

Hannah didn’t open her eyes, afraid they would show how much speed her blood pressure gained in a split second. But she did reciprocate, after a moment, moving her hand so his fingers intertwined with hers. 

Neither moved, neither spoke nor opened their eyes. And finally, both fell asleep until Liebgott woke them up a couple of hours later.

He opened the door loudly, letting in some light. Both Hannah and Chuck sat up quickly, startled and disheveled, looking at Joe like he was crazy. 

Joe looked at both with a deep, playful smirk before saying, “We have the meeting at CP in ten minutes, let’s go, come on.”

Thankfully, Joe didn’t notice that Hannah and Chuck were still holding hands under the sheet; but when they caught it, as Lieb left, they quickly unwrapped them and rushed to get their things, without saying another word to each other.

///

Night came around nicely. 

Both Hannah and Chuck were enjoying their time. Hannah had clearly relaxed, mostly after they had talked about what happened to the NCO, feeling like she had let go of a heavy weight she carried on her shoulders. 

Charles offered for her to stay for dinner when the brunette said she still had to walk her dog, even though she knew Angelina had probably done that already. He insisted, saying the leftovers taste even better reheated on the grill. 

Hannah laughed and agreed to stay, as long as she could help with it. Her day has been better than expected, way better. But she still had that small pebble in her shoe about her feelings towards Chuck. A part of her yelled that she should come clean to him, and be done with it, no matter the result. The other part also yelled that his friendship was more valuable than risking it for something more.

But the tiny voice in her head still insisted with No, no! He doesn’t feel that way. He hasn’t flirted with you, or showed some clear sign of attraction, Hannah! Have dinner and pretend it’s all good. 

“Hey, can I ask you something? This might sound a bit weird,” Hannah said, with a sneaky smile while Chuck revamped the grill. The former NCO just nodded in response. “Why aren’t you married?” 

Chuck snorted, looking surprised and slightly offended. “Aren’t you the one that used to complain that women are always pressured to get married, and maybe they shouldn’t if they don't want to?” He asked, almost complaining. 

Hannah laughed and put her hands up in her defense.

“I don’t mean it like that, Charles Grant! I just… I’m surprised a man like you, who does all this, isn’t at least dating someone,” she clarified. 

“I didn’t say I wasn’t dating someone,” he replied, without looking at her.

There it is! So, that’s what it's like to get your heart punched, huh? 

“Oh, yeah, I mean—Of course, sorry–,” Hannah added, suddenly stumbling upon her words as she felt her hands shake slightly. 

Chuck snorted again, this time a hearty laugh escaping his lips. 

“I’m not Hannah, I’m not seeing anybody at the moment,” he added, smiling as he moved the charcoal around the grill. 

Hannah had a rush of anger suddenly, wanting to throw something at him and yell you fucking asshole, I’m in love with you, do not do that to me!!!

But she held herself in, looking rather unphased, and just nodded disapprovingly. 

“I, well… I haven’t met the right woman, you know? I’ve seen some people, yeah. Babe set me up once with this redhead who could’ve been Malarkey’s sister for all I knew and it was going good at first but… Fuck, I was so bored!” he said, showing the annoyance in his face at the memory. “She was nice and all, but she was just… so fucking boring. She talked about her hair and stuff she does with her lady friends and she hated when I told stories about the war.”

Now it was Hannah’s turn to laugh. “She hated it? Why?”. 

“Who the fuck knows, maybe it was too g—ory for her, or she didn’t want to hear that one of the men was being called ‘Gonorrhea’. Hell, she didn’t even want to hear how I got the scar in my head or rather, the explanation of my slurring when I speak and my lack of strength on my left side,” Chuck said and sounded rather offended. 

“Someone has to either appreciate your scar and the sequels, or get the fuck out of your way,” Hannah said, approaching him with a beer in hand. “Don’t ever feel ashamed for that, Chuck, I’m not ashamed of having one ear, honestly. I think it’s pretty nice. Who can say that is different when their bodies are complete and in perfect state?”. 

“It’s boring, isn’t it?” he added.

“You and me, Chuck, are different. And that’s good. Toye and Guarnere have one less leg each, they’re fucking awesome too.” 

Hannah’s heart leaped at the sight of Chuck looking suddenly proud of himself, and when he looked at her to clink their bottles, she could’ve sworn that, if she had the ovaries, she would’ve kissed him right there and then.

///

After dinner and a few more laughs, Hannah called it a night. 

Her heart felt slightly heavy for not having dared to confess what she was there to do in the first place. 

“Well, my dear Grant, I have to head home,” she said, as she put plates down the water in sink. 

“Already?” Chuck replied, looking surprised.

“It’s almost ten in the night!” she exclaimed, drying her hands on a towel that hung from the oven door handle. 

“Want me to call you a cab? Lieb is probably still around working with his.” 

“No, don’t worry, I’ll walk. It’s fine,” Hannah replied, and started walking towards the door with Chuck on tow. 

Both stood on the porch, looking around the calm neighborhood. Hannah was feeling so ashamed of herself, slapping herself mentally every second that passed. 

“Well, Hannah, this was a great surprise,” Chuck started, breaking her thoughts for a moment, “we should do this more often, maybe with the guys, sometime, before winter leaves us secluded in our homes.” 

“Of course, but let’s not wait two years this time,” she replied, with a smile creeping up her lips, looking at him. God, how can someone dare be this good looking?

Chuck proceeded to hug her like when he opened the door past noon, when she showed up at his doorstep. Hannah reciprocated, and drowned herself once again in his cologne, not wanting to let go or stop feeling his hands around her body.

“See ya, Davis,” Chuck said as she walked down the steps and she took one last look at him before heading home. 

You fucking wuss, you fucking wuss, you fucking wuss, you fucking, pathetic     w—

“Hannah! Wait!” 

Chuck’s voice startled her as she was reaching the crossroad, when she turned around to find him running towards her. 

Her heart raced, wondering why the hell was he yelling at her for. Maybe she had forgotten something. Yeah, that’s all, I might have forgotten my… keys? 

“Hannah, wait, I… I have to tell you something and this can’t wait…” Chuck started as soon as he caught up to her. “Listen, this might sound weird but… a while ago I—you appeared in a dream of mine. You were talking to me after I got shot and you were begging me to not forget you.”

“Hannah, I took it upon myself to find you but I was meeting only dead ends, the Army wouldn’t help me so I had to… fuck, I had to find Winters and ask him for your information. God, that was embarrassing, but you know Winters, he didn’t hesitate to help. I had your address and phone numbers for months, but I never had the guts to go knock on your door… I thought you might have forgotten me, but… I never forgot about you,”

“I never forgot how we shared a foxhole during our hardest time. I never forgot how we slept in that bed and held hands in the dark. I never forgot how you took care of me when I had that one panic attack in Bastogne, and everything else,”

“What I mean, Hannah, is… I love you. I can’t date other women because they’re not you, and all I want is you. So… please, don’t leave. Not now. I couldn’t believe my eyes when you showed up at my door, fuck, I thought I was dreaming or dead. You had found me and I—,”

Before Chuck could follow through with his speech, Hannah took him by the face and kissed him. 

It was bruising, it was desperate and filled with love. Chuck wrapped his arms around her body, bringing her impossibly close to his body as her fingers found his hair. 

The anticipation was their favorite feeling. They both sensed how long they waited for that to happen, so they sank deeper into it. 

It went on for a few minutes, the night time seemed to have stopped for both, like everything had disappeared except for them. 

After they parted, both panting, their foreheads connected, Hannah opened her eyes and found Chuck’s cheeks stained with tear trails and that explained the salty taste in his lips. That made her smile widely as she still held his hand between hers. 

“Can you—do you want to s–spend the night with me?” Chuck asked, opening his eyes finally. 

Hannah just smiled widely, pecking his lips as she pulled him by the wrist towards his house.

///

Making love to someone you have craved for years makes the hours longer.

Both Hannah and Chuck were sure of that while the latter moaned loudly as Hannah rode him; his hands were bruising against her hips as she moved, holding herself in his shoulders, kissing him every now and again. 

Hannah never thought she would see Chuck like this. With sweat rolling down his forehead, his lips swollen and his eyes squeezed shut; to see his naked torso and his chest heaving up and down, which was covered in different scars that only made him even better looking in her opinion.

The man was almost ethereal in the dim light of his bedroom.

She enjoyed every bit of him as much as she could, like that could’ve been a fleeting figment of her imagination that she had to hold tight between her fingers before it could slip away. 

But reality brought her back when she felt the pain of his fingers digging into her hips. Hannah didn’t mind one bit.

She just loved to see how overwhelmed with pleasure he was, how he propped himself into his elbows, wrapping a hand around her bottom to carry both into the bed frame so he could sit and find her lips with his as he rode into his climax. 

Of course, Chuck being the gentleman he was, caring, he helped Hannah ride into hers, enjoying how she cried out his name loudly like it was the best song he had ever heard. 

///

Chuck’s fingers ran down Hannah’s bare shoulders, enjoying the dampness. It was soft, it was warm and it also a tad bit freckled. His fingertips followed down her arm until they met her face, that laid upon the back of her hands as she laid in her stomach. 

 Her eyes were closed but she was still awake. Hannah was just soaking on everything that happened through the day, and now, through the night, as the clock ticked into two in the morning. 

Chuck sat parallel to her, and his fingertips went all the way back to walk down her shoulder blades, into the deep line of her spine, meeting a few moles spread out here and there, which sent very slight tickles to the brunette. 

“I kind of can’t believe this just happened” he muttered, turning to lay his head on the small of her back. He could feel the vibration of the small laugh she let go at his comment.

“Me neither, Chuck… but I, uh… I have a confession, which I think will make you laugh,” Hannah replied.

“Do go on…” he replied.

“You told me you looked for my information with Winters, right?” Hannah asked.

“Right”.

“Well, when I looked for you too… I did the same,” she said and felt his head suddenly turn to her at her words, “and when I said your name, he gave me a weird look, but now I know it was a ‘I know something important about this that you don’t know’ look”. 

“So, wait, we l—ooked for each other in the past few months, and we did exactly the same shit?” he said, struggling slightly. 

Hannah heard the clicker of the lighter and looked back at him, lightning a cigarette with a shit eating grin sprawled upon his lips. 

“Exactly what I’m saying,” she replied, laying her head back down. 

“Another reason why I would like to marry you, then,” he added, like it was nothing.

What he didn’t notice was the speed in which Hannah’s eyes widened and her heart started thumping inside her rib cage. 

“I’m sorry?!” she asked, sounding a tad bit anxious. Chuck was never one to say rushed things like that. 

“The first reason is how powerful and relentless you were and still clearly are. You know how I know that?” he asked, and she could feel his smile still in his lips.

“No, how?”

“When you confronted Sobel before we went to Holland. Of course, I didn’t know at the moment the amount of feelings I had for you, but… I think I did have some of them roaming inside me,” Chuck said, like he was the one who stood up to Herbert Sobel, “but that was just plain hot,” he finalized, and turned to look at her; Hannah was just looking at him like he was crazy. 

The night before, everyone was cheering for their job. They were done, they were bound to the States and all the Easy Company wanted to do was drink and laugh. 

For everyone’s demise, Lipton announced how they were heading back into war, to Holland, killing the mood instantly. 

As the replacements were getting helped and guided by Bull, rather than Cobb, who could only brag about stuff he never ever did; Chuck was packing her stuff near Malarkey, Bill and Hannah. 

“I swear I thought by this time I was gonna be home, with a hundred in my pocket, flowers for my mama and nearing Christmas with my nieces and nephews” Malarkey said, fixing his bayonet. The rest scoffed, still bitter by the news.

“I miss the coffee from hometown, there’s this beautiful place in Hamstown Square, it’s very small and cozy, and the pastries are the most delicious I’ve ever had” Hannah said, looking like she was talking about the love of her life. 

“Guys, look!” Bull said, interrupting them, pointing to their right.

On a jeep, carrying some stuff behind it, sat Herbert Sobel, their former CO, the nightmare that trained them back in Toccoa. Hannah knew she didn’t train with him as much as the rest, but a year with that man was more than enough. 

“Fuck, no…” Hannah whispered so just the boys around her heard her “No, not him”.

“Don’t—Pretend he’s not here,” Malarkey said to her, tying the loose ends of her parachute to her shoulders as Skip came to them scowling like the rest. “Y’all too, do not look at him”. 

Neither obliged, all of them stared at the man passing by. 

“The hell is he doing here?” Skip wondered, without getting an answer.

Sobel walked in a straight line near the men as the truck behind his jeep unloaded, looking between the men with his usual air of superiority untouched. 

Unlucky for Hannah, he had met her eyes not too long after, and the man approached her, before the rest could make themselves scarce. 

“Still alive, uh… Davis?” Sobel asked, scowling at the brunette.

“Pretty much, sir. Still teaching at that school… somewhere?” she answered, provoking a few small gasps around her. Sobel scowl just deepened.

“Do not disrespect me with that tone, private” the taller man threatened, his jaw clenching tight. 

“Earn the respect, like you once taught us, and I won’t,” Hannah replied, her tone dripping with bitterness and irony. She felt a hand in her shoulder and knew one of the men was probably trying to calm her down. “You came here and act surprised that I’m still alive? No, I deserve more than that, sir”. 

“You shut your mouth right now, private! This—this is the reason why women shouldn’t be allowed in the army; they’re too emotional!” Sobel exclaimed, almost yelling to get attention, which only made Hannah even more furious.

“If you were in our command, if you were our leader, we would all be dead right now. Don’t you remember that drill we did back in England? Why do you think you were ‘promoted’? And no, I’m not scared of you, go write me up if you want to; Winters is south of the camp, third tent on the right. Colonel Sink is in the next tent to his, the fourth one,” Hannah felt like she couldn’t stop, her anger overcoming her; mountains of words and feelings that were accumulating, finally leaving her chest. 

Chuck couldn’t believe the words that came out of her. 

Everyone awaited without breathing for an answer, a yell from Sobel, something. But nothing came, he just scowled, breathed hard, and before anyone took a breath again, he turned around tight in his heel and left to the back of the truck. 

Hannah took a breath and turned around to finish prepping, when she found many of her fellow paratroopers smiling at her, some nodding in approval even. Johnny Martin crossed by her side, squeezing her arm, as he whispered a small “good one” for her. 

“I fucking hate him, that felt really good”, she said to Chuck, turning to adjust his jumpsuit. 

Chuck just stared at her, feeling hard to believe what just went through. Their former NCO was just bashed in front of everyone, and no one, not even one paratrooper came in his defense. 

His eyes roamed through her face as she fixed his suit and talked about something he wasn’t paying attention to. Suddenly, he was looking at her in a different way, one that would grow over time during the war.

///

The night caught up to Chuck and Hannah, both deep asleep on his bed. The brunette laid her head in his shoulder, on her side, while he was laid in his back, with his cheek against her forehead. 

Though around dawn, Chuck’s body started to shook. It came softly at first, just a few twitches, until it became a whole storm inside him. 

Hannah stirred up and saw how every muscle in his arms and chest were clenched, and he muttering something she couldn’t comprehend. Clearly, he was having a nightmares. The nightmares that seemed to never end, which felt like a punishment that everyone had to endure post war. 

The brunette placed her hands around his head as she whispered, “Chuck, Chuck, it’s okay, it’s just a dream, wake up, love, wake up.” 

His eyes shot open, looking terrified as he gasped for air, his hands fumbling to find her. 

“Hannah, Hannah!” He exclaimed, as he finally met her eyes. His body was shaking until he realized she was there, looking down at him, with a tired, disheveled smile. 

“It’s okay, love, I’m here, I’m here,” she replied, running her fingers through his hair, kissing his cheek before looking down at him again. 

The first light of the sun shining through the white curtains, illuminating both with such warmth it made Hannah’s heart swell. 

“I’m sorry, I’m s—sorry, Hannah, this still happens…” he explains, his hand tight on her side. 

But Hannah just smiles sweetly at him, “it still happens to me too, Chuck, it’s okay, there’s nothing to be sorry about,” she explains, admiring his deep blue eyes. 

“Can you… can you sing to me?” He asked, sounding almost embarrassed to ask for it. 

The touch of your lips upon my face

Your lips that are cool and sweet

Such tenderness lies in their soft caress

My heart forgets to beat

The touch of your hands upon my head

The love in your eyes, ashine

And now at last, the moment divine

The touch of your lips, the love in your eyes

The touch of your lips on mine

Chuck closed his eyes as her singing filled his ears. He haven’t felt peace like at that moment, not since the war. Hugging his mother, playing cards with his brothers or the men from the Company brought joy, but peace; peace came from Hannah, wearing his shirt, at dawn, singing to him. 

And it was the same for Hannah. 

Both knew the nightmares will continue to haunt them, and that their lives will go on, but at least, they were going to go through it together. 

And that was more than enough for them. ///

[darkpetal16]

Pride & Humility - Chapter One

Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood Fanfiction

Genres: Gen, Friendship, Family, Adventure, Hurt, Comfort

Summary: “Friends look the other way. Best friends eat the body.” -Selim B. The story about an innocent and disturbing friendship between homunculus and human. Old soul OC. Surprisingly wholesome. 

Warnings: Violence, gore, death, excessive child abuse, profanity

Beta: Taintedletter

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood. Elizabeth belongs to Midnightwishes, but I will be borrowing her for this journey. 

Next Chapter

This will be my only beginning A/N.

This is a tribute story to Midnightwishes. I wish you all the love and happiness in the world, and hope you’re able to enjoy your next great adventure. Rest in peace, sweetheart.

This story was originally going to be my very first fanfiction, but I lost motivation when I lost my friend. I made a hard switch to the Naruto/Pokemon fandom, and found it difficult to return to FMA.

When I clearing out my drop box, I found this old story again, and… well, here we are.

This story is a slow build up.

This is NOT an EdOC, AlOC, or RoyOC story. I am perfectly happy with their canonical pairings.

Note about canon / AU: This is to clarify the established canon in my story.

In the manga / wiki it’s stated that Pride is able to adjust the age range of his container by around 5ish years. I’m going to go ahead and AU it so that he can freely adjust the age of his container to whatever he wants it to be.

Did you know that Bradley’s first name is King? I did not until I checked the wiki, so führer Bradley is named King Bradley here.

Mrs. Bradley will also get a lovely first name, because she very much deserves it: Katherine.

Lastly, King Bradley genuinely loves his wife.

Smart!OC, so if you don’t like reading about OCs with high levels of book-smart intelligence, this won’t be your cup of tea.

This story will eventually be posted on Fanfiction.net and Wattpad, but for the moment it will remain on tumblr until I write enough of it. 

✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧

Death was not the end, nor the beginning. It was a bump in the road, an interlude in the story.

Dying did not mean one ceased to exist, but rather, one’s existence changed.

Memories are not meant to survive the transformation, but there are always exceptions. When taking the first breath in a new body, one can usually remember the last breath in the old body.

But too soon what defined the previous life will fade away, and the new life will be given a (mostly) blank slate.

They’ll likely still retain some knowledge, some experiences, or information too vital to forget. Maybe they’ll remember the face of their lover, or their talent for music. Maybe they’ll be drawn to an old friend, or they’ll retain unexplainable fear over a past lives trauma.

Someone terrified of the ocean might have drowned in their previous life.

A man or women overcome with unshakable insecurities might have been cruelly hurt before.

Regardless, death and birth did not mark the end or beginning for one’s existence.

It simply meant a change in scenery for that soul.

✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧

This is the journey of one such soul being born in a world it was not meant to be a part of.

It, like all the others, knew it had been reborn at first.

But unlike the others, memories of its past lives did not flee right away.

No.

Oddly enough, they stayed for a solid three years. And even when those cherished memories of dear friends and family left the soul, knowledge remained.

Knowledge of math and science.

Of medicine.

And of an undeniable, insatiable thirst for more.

More knowledge.

More adventures.

More everything.

✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧

Elizabeth Luxanna was born to the estranged daughter of a retired general. The daughter, Hannah Luxanna, had eloped with a simple farmer after a bitter argument between her father—Crow Luxanna—and mother—Isabella Luxanna.

Hannah enjoyed over a decade of blissful marriage before her husband tragically died from an unknown illness. To make matters worse, Hannah was pregnant, and they had lost their home in a terrible fire.

With nowhere else to go, Hannah returned home to find her mother already dead, and her father consumed with bitterness and regret.

Crow accepted his daughter back with great reluctance, and the time leading up to Elizabeth’s birth was filled with despair and grief for Hannah.

The young woman’s heart gave out after birth, and she left her only daughter orphaned.

Crow Luxanna adopted his granddaughter, but he did so with a thoroughly broken and blackened heart.

He did not know how to handle her.

He did not want to handle her.

So he hired plenty of servants to take care of her for the first year of her life, and dismissed them shortly afterward.

Next came tutors.

So soon? Some might ask.

But Crow Luxanna did not want to raise a granddaughter. No, he wanted to force her to grow up as soon as possible and send her out.

Ideally into the military.

And when Elizabeth Luxanna began to show exemplary intelligence, and whispers of a prodigy started to arise, Crow Luxanna finally took an interest in his granddaughter.

And what a shame, that was.

✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧

Grandfather Crow was a short, well-dressed man. He was a proud retired general, and had high expectations for all those around him. Rules were meant to be strictly adhered to, and when boundaries were pushed too much he enforced harsh punishments.

He wasn’t one for social visits. Not even for his last living family.

Elizabeth was quiet, well-behaved, and completely devoted to her studies. It became blatantly apparent early on that she had difficulty connecting to her peers, and after enough incidents her grandfather forbade other children from entering their home.

She rarely saw anyone aside from her tutors.

Especially Grandfather.

Which was why when Grandfather told her to eat dinner with him, she was surprised.

Thankfully, he cut straight to the chase and explained why he was there.

“The exam you did yesterday, do you remember it?” Grandfather inquired stiffly, his well-groomed mustache quivering as he tried out a smile. It looked terribly awkward on him.

The young girl nodded at his question. After months of completely devouring her lessons, and answering all of her tutors’ questions they had come together and devised an extensive exam for the heiress. It took Elizabeth six hours to complete, and the trio (one for science & math, one for history & English, and one for etiquette) watched her intensely the entire time.

Grandfather tapped his fingers on the table, his dark eyes staring straight through her. “Mm. Yes, well, you’ve exceeded expectations. Your intelligence is remarkable for someone your age, a true prodigy.” Again Grandfather tapped his fingers, and his gaze didn’t seem to notice her anymore. “The military will want your mind, do you understand?”

Elizabeth mutely shook her head.

“They will want you,” Grandfather repeated. “I am a loyal soldier, so I will not refuse them.”

Her brow furrowed as she tried to follow the conversation. “I’m going to be enlisted?”

Grandfather blinked once, now focusing on Elizabeth. “Yes, and no. You are too young, but… But they will claim you one way or another. I want to make sure you survive, and do our family proud.”

“Why would they claim me?”

“You are a talented child, and I am a loyal soldier,” Grandfather repeated. “Retired or not, I would sacrifice everything for my country, for my führer.”

Including you, went unsaid.

“Your mind… yes. It will be good for the military. For Central. You will serve our führer well,” Grandfather Crow said.

There was no permission to be sought out.

There was no debating, or discussion.

Elizabeth knew in her heart that there was no fighting this.

She was a single little girl, who just so happened to be a little good at math and science.

She had no power to refuse.

No confidence to say no.

Even a hint of disobedience would land Elizabeth locked away in her room, with no lights, or food for however long her grandfather wanted.

She had nowhere to go, and no one to turn to.

So Elizabeth swallowed back her nerves and tried out a wobbly (fake) smile. “Yes, Grandfather.”

The retired general smiled. It was disturbing to see. “A mind like yours… They need State Alchemists. Yes, you will do well there. I will hire a new tutor for you.”

“Yes, Grandfather.”

And that was that.

✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧

“I am Lisa Delve,” introduced a middle-aged woman. Her graying hair was swept up in a tight bun, and she dressed very modestly. Her dark blue eyes narrowed when she looked at Elizabeth, and a sneer curled back on her lips. “You are my student?”

“I am,” Elizabeth answered quietly, her green eyes lowering when she saw the plain scorn in the women’s eyes.

She knew then that Mrs. Delve would not be any companion to Elizabeth.

“A big game was talked up about you. Do not disappoint,” Mrs. Delve said, her voice clipped. She turned her back to young curly-haired brunette, and began to draw on the blackboard.

All tutoring was done in the small library, where not a window could be seen. It was dark, dreary, and stuffy.

Elizabeth wished she was anywhere but there.

“This,” Mrs. Delve said as she finished her drawing, “is a basic transmutation circle. Memorize it. I am told you already know your periodic table?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Recite it.”

Elizabeth did as ordered, and the alchemist scoffed. “Speak up, girl. You are the heiress of the prestigious Luxanna family, and the granddaughter of one of our greatest generals. Have you not taken any etiquette classes?”

“I have, ma’am,” Elizabeth said, sitting up straighter in her uncomfortable wooden seat. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“It’s not me you be apologizing to, but your family,” Mrs. Delve snapped. “Have you done any reading into alchemy before this session?”

“Only that human transmutation is illegal, and dangerous,” Elizabeth softly responded. She only knew that because it was mentioned offhandedly in a biology textbook.

But that was fine.

Elizabeth had no interest in human transmutation.

No, what drew her focus was botany and how alchemy could be applied there.

She couldn’t find any concrete information on alchemists who worked with plants. She knew it had to be a difficult science since alchemy applied to any living organism was tricky, but she didn’t think it would be that hard.

Plants didn’t have nervous systems, after all.

And if she could find a way to create hybrid plants, she might be able to invent new species of plants that were more effective than modern medicine.

At least, that was her initial hope.

“Rudimentary. Very well, let us begin. Do keep up, as I will not be repeating myself.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧

Elizabeth Luxanna was largely left alone.

At first, when she was mentally a grown adult who enjoyed her solitude just fine, she had no complaints.

She was an unusually obedient and quiet child, and as long as she was given enough books to read, she didn’t complain.

If she did complain, she’d be immediately locked in her bedroom and forced into isolation for however many days her Grandfather saw fit. Food would be shoved through the slot in the door, and not a single peep was allowed to be heard.

Since Elizabeth was an adult (a very, very old one at that), she was able to comply with these rules without much fuss.

But when her adult memories slipped away from her one night, and she was suddenly left a child without any companionship, being alone started to bother her.

Grandfather Crow was a stern man, and had no patience to raise a granddaughter. All the servants that worked for the Luxanna family were veterans who had to retire premature, and were uncomfortable dealing with Elizabeth.

While she no longer had all the memories that made Elizabeth an old adult, she retained her knowledge of math, science, and other similar topics. She couldn’t explain how she knew what she knew, either, which gave others the wrong impression about her.

At first glances Elizabeth was a child with a seemingly high intellect.

From the Grandfather’s Crow point of view this was to be taken advantage of for the betterment of his country, of his führer. It was an asset to be used to its maximum potential.

But from Elizabeth’s point of view it simply made it that much harder to connect with others.

Children her age didn’t even understand what an electron was, let alone wanted to talk about it.

Adults either didn’t take her seriously, or only saw her as someone to be used.

There was no way for Elizabeth to form any kind of positive bond, let alone a friendship.

For five years she was confined to a bitter home without a single person to care for her.

This made for a terribly lonely little girl.

So painfully lonely she would wish for any kind of friendship.

For anyone to show her even an iota of warmth.

And then came the day that person showed up.

Her only friend.

Selim Bradley.

✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧

Welcome back to my loyal readers, and hello to new ones!

Cover by @cantrona.

Question: Would you open the gates to Truth? What for, and what would you sacrifice?

Reviews are love!

Next Chapter

[dontshootmespence]

Small Creatures

A/N: Here is my piece (or the start of if people enjoy it enough) for Hannah’s @reiding-and-writing OC/Trope challenge. My trope was “we’re having a secret relationship and no one knows until a co-worker walks in and sees the two of you sucking face.” Well, this one is always meant to be lighthearted, so I want to angst it up to flip the script! I hope you like my OC! @coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @stunudo @ragweed98 @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @imagicana @ssajenniferjareau @criminal-navy-writings @killerwithashotgun @ultrarebelheart @the-slytherin-ice-queen

                                                             ----

“For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love.”

                                                                                                   - Carl Sagan

My name is Atim Matajan. When I was a child, I never imagined I’d feel this free; I wasn’t born into a friendly universe. 

From the time I was eight, I knew I was gay. As you might imagine, this was a bit of an issue as I grew up (until the age of 11) in traditional India, where I was considered a disgrace for loving a man. I was luckier than most though; my mother and older twin sisters knew before I did that I wouldn’t marry a woman, and they loved me regardless. My father was a different story. Now, I haven’t seen the man in years, but he’s what the kids these days like to call a dickhead, a douchecanoe, and other things of that ilk. 

Rajas Mahajan. Rajas means pride. Funny really, because that perfectly describes my father. His pride in his traditional image, that of a business and family man, came above all else - even the job and the family. After a massive fight with my father that I won’t bore you with now, my mother, Janani, packed up herself, my sisters and me and left the country she’d always known to bring us to the United States. Chicago, specifically. A doctor back home, she completed her degree and then basically set it aside to be the traditional, dutiful wife and have children. Devalekha or “Dev” and Namita or “Nami” were born four years before I was. Then I came along. 

Flash forward to me at 11 - my dad’s an asshole and my mom leaves him to come to the U.S., starting at the bottom and putting herself through medical school yet again to become a doctor in the United States. She was, and remains to this day, my idol. My mother is the strongest woman I know; simultaneously the best mother and the best doctor there ever was. 

Flash forward again and Dev is a cardiothoracic surgeon, a doctor just like Ma, Nami is a biomechanical engineer working on some project I couldn’t even begin to describe to you, and I am a profiler with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, working with the absolute best in the field, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, whom I knew in Chicago and never expected to see after going to college, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, the technical analyst Penelope Garcia, who is quite possibly the light of my life, and Dr. Spencer Reid.

Oh, Spencer Reid, with his fluffy, wavy, light brown hair, enchanting eyes and soft smile.

That is a beautiful man. I kiss him. A lot. He’s my boyfriend. Well, he’s my boyfriend and no one knows because can you say ‘work complications?’ The second I began with the BAU two years ago at the age of 27, I couldn’t keep my eyes off Spencer. I suspected he felt the same way about me, but I didn’t have a radar for that kind of thing as so many people expected me too, so I asked him last year if he wanted to go on a date. He said yes, and it’s been amazing ever since.

Work is hard, sure. That’s to be expected given our line of work, but I’ve never been happier, and Spencer hasn’t either, which is an accomplishment I take pride in because Spencer’s life has been a shit show to put it lightly. We make it a point to have date night at least once a week. We text sweet (and sometimes...okay, many times) dirty ones. If time and location permit, we’ll sneak kisses around the Bureau, and lately he’s even started sleeping at my place. I can’t tell you how much I enjoy having him wake up next to me. Unfortunately, last night, he couldn’t stay over without blowing our big secret, so I woke up to a text message from the man I hoped to marry one day. 

S: Morning, gorgeous. I hate that I couldn’t stay over last night. Should I bring in coffee for you this morning?

As I sipped at my own unbelievably crappy coffee, I couldn’t help but smile. He’d stop by the place I loved near his apartment for coffee. I could practically smell the wafting notes of a delicious Colombian roast as I read the message over and over again.

A: PLEASE! My coffee sucks.

S: Because you need a new machine. That coffee practically tastes like metal. You’re probably ingesting heavy metals with each cup.

A: Comforting, babe. Thanks. 

After nearly a year together, I’d gotten used to getting way too much information. At this point, I actually found it pretty endearing. He texted back quickly that he’d pick up my usual order of coffee and cinnamon scone before work and hopefully tonight he could stay over.

Honestly, the day couldn’t go fast enough. Unless there were unforeseen circumstances, there wouldn’t be a case today, so the next eight hours would consist of dry, boring, monotonous paperwork, and if we were lucky, a meeting to spice up the day. Can you sense the internal eye roll? Because it’s there.

Needless to say, the day went exactly as I’d expected. It was like slogging through a sea of molasses - at least until Spencer decided to start messaging me. It started out sweet and did 180-degree turn very quickly.

S: Any chance we can meet in the file room downstairs? I couldn’t kiss you last night and I haven’t gotten to all day. I’m getting cranky.

A: Give me a few minutes. I’m in the middle of a conversation with Derek and I don’t want to just duck out. It’ll make him suspicious.

S: True. Take your time. Just give me a five-minute warning.

Now, Derek. When I moved to Chicago at the age of 11, I was truly confused. Not about my sexuality - that was still steadfast. I’m gay. But I was without a father figure and living in an entirely new country that I didn’t understand in any way. School was miserable for a few weeks. I was coasting the halls aimlessly hoping I wouldn’t get my ass kicked, until I met Derek. Derek lost his father, to a gunshot wound, not douchiness as was the case with me, so I gravitated toward him. Through middle school and high school we were the best of friends. He confided in me about everything - everything except Carl Buford, who I wanted to hunt down and beat senseless until he was dead. When college happened, we parted ways for no other reason than distance, which made it all that much more amazing and funny when I walked into the Bureau to see him again. Things went back to the way they were pretty easily. The only difference was that now I knew about Buford, and he didn’t know about my relationship with Spencer. In time, he would. He loved Spencer like a little brother, so I was positive when the time comes, he’ll be ecstatic for us. “You alright man?” He asked, snapping me out of my daze. “You look distracted.”

I was distracted. But I told him I was fine, wrapped up the conversation and gave Spencer his five-minute warning before heading downstairs.

The second I stepped into our usual meeting place, which at the moment had no camera in it, I grabbed Spencer by the back of the neck and brought his mouth to mind, our lips clashing in a feverish assault that was long overdue; it had been days since I’d kissed him. Too many days. As his tongue crashed against mine, he pushed me up against the wall and took control, rolling his hand up the length of my spine. Shivers followed his fingertips and I found myself wanting more. Damn being at work. 

Passion turned to comfort as I slowed down the kiss and combed my fingers through his hair. We got lost in our little moment, pushing everything else away - the location we were in, the secrecy of our relationship - all of it was pushed to the side as my lips found the side of his neck.

That’s why we were completely taken aback when the doorknob turned and Derek walked in. Immediately, Spencer and I both turned to him. 

Derek Morgan, the king of comebacks and quick wit, was frozen in front of us, slack-jawed and confused. “Morgan, you can’t say anything,” I said in a flash. “We’re trying to keep this under wraps for a while. Please, don’t say anything.”

His eyes glanced between us both. I couldn’t actually pinpoint what he was thinking, and I was pretty sure Spencer couldn’t either. “Morgan?”

Without saying a word, he gave us both an imperceptible nod and walked out the door, leaving us wondering what the hell just happened, and what, if anything, were we going to do.