#hello i'm back it's been at least an hour and i finished the chapter and took a quiz | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

javierpena-inatacvest · 11 months ago

Text

Chapter 18: Hole in None

Summary: During your bridal shower, Steve takes Javi golfing. When they return, the way Javi is acting has you questioning everything you knew about your relationship.

Word Count: 12.1K (getting back to my roots of a short chapter LMAO)

Warnings: SMUT(18+) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl pls), oral (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint?), makeup sex and getting caught (The Murphy's will never catch a break) ANGST (I'm so sorry!!), Hurt/comfort, Javi being super insecure, you being confused as hell, Steve being an absolute idiot

A/N: HELLO. IT'S ME! I DO EXSIST! I am genuinely SO sorry that this chapter has taken a million years to happen. December has been so busy and I have had no time to write, so I really, really appreciate all of your patience 🥺 This is a lil different than any other chapter we've had so far in the NTL universe, it's a lil angsty-er than normal but ya girl only believes in happy endings so don't fret!!! Also poorly beta'd bc I have the stomach flu and I am 100% there are mistakes in this chapter that I'm sure I missed 🫠

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“Do I really have to do this? This thing hasn’t even started yet and I’m already exhausted.”

“Yes, Hermosa, I do think that most people do expect the bride to be at her own bridal shower.” Javi laughed, staring into the bathroom mirror as he ran his hands through the dark curls of his hair, fixing them into place as you stood next to him, finishing the rest of your longer than usual makeup routine to prepare for being the center of attention against your will for the next several hours.

It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful that your co-workers wanted to throw you a bridal shower before your wedding, now only a few weeks away- the sentiment of the whole thing was incredibly thoughtful. Your 3rd grade teammates had even found a way to get in touch with your family to make sure that your mom, aunts and cousins felt included in the event, too. You should have been thrilled about the fact that the people who loved you most in the world were coming together to celebrate your upcoming wedding and quite literally showering you with gifts, but if there was one thing you hated more than anything else, it was the social exhaustion that came from having a party planned for no one but you.

You had really tried to convince Maria, Estelle, Linda, and now, your mom that you didn’t need a bridal shower- your wedding was going to be small, and since you had already been living on your own, there weren’t a lot of things you needed as you started married life together. Unfortunately, neither of those arguments were going to stop those ladies from going all out for you, leaving you feeling like your bridal shower was turning out to be even bigger than your actual wedding.

“Don’t you think I could just get a cardboard cutout of myself and use that instead? All these ladies love to talk so much that I don’t think they would even know the difference.” You sighed, giving yourself a once over in the mirror before putting away the rest of your makeup as Javi snuck behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, planting a soft kiss into your shoulder as he pressed his chest against your back.

“I have a feeling that someone would notice.” Javi chuckled, a soft grin spreading across his face as your eyes met in the mirror, his smile and sweet eyes enough to calm your nerves for at least a moment. “I would definitely notice.”

“Well that’s easy for you to say, you don’t even have to be there.” You huffed, letting a little pout fall from your lips as Javi playfully shook you in his grasp, trying your best not to smile as you tried to keep up your unenthused facade. “It’s not too late to trade. You can go to the bridal shower and I can go golfing with you and Steve.”

Even though Javi had insisted he was more than happy to stay at the shower with you, Maria had insisted that Javi find another way to spend his time so the spotlight of the day could be on you, and not him being distractingly handsome to everyone else there. Lucky for Javi, that meant extra time to spend with Steve while Connie was at your shower- not so lucky for you that Maria had banished your future husband from attending an event for your own wedding.

“I honestly may have to take you up on that. Steve must have needed an ego boost when I let him pick what he wanted to do while you and Connie were at the shower because he knows I can’t golf for shit.” Javi’s overdramatic sigh and roll of his eyes was enough to make you break into a little giggle, turning your head enough to press a quick kiss onto his cheek before reaching your hand under his chin, giving his jaw a little jiggle. “It’ll go by fast, Osita, I promise. And then, when we get home,” he paused, pressing another kiss into your shoulder and up towards your neck, digging his fingers a little tighter into your sides as he rasped into your ear, “I’ll take as much time as you want to destress you.”

“As much time as I want? Bold of you to assume that the dog is gonna give us that long.” You snickered as a happy Bear trotted into your bathroom right on cue, his tail loudly thumping against the bathroom cabinets from his happy wags as he wedged himself between you and Javi.

The newest furry member of your household had been a well loved addition, but if there was one thing Bear had no concept of, it was privacy. Your dog had become a constant shadow to you and Javi anywhere and everywhere in your house, including your in your bedroom, even when you were, well, not sleeping. It hadn’t helped that Javi had already formed such a soft spot for Bear, and had let him on your bed from the moment he stepped foot into the apartment, and now, your dog and his clingy personality had become a new obstacle to try and navigate in your sex life.

“Someone needs to tell his dad that he’ll survive if he gets left out of the bedroom for a half hour, huh? That he’s adorable, but that he can be a little cockblock, can’t he?” Squatting down next to Bear, you wrapped your hands around his face, scratching behind his ears as you mockingly serenaded him, raising an eyebrow at Javi.

“He just sounds so sad when he whines and he’s trapped outside the door.” Javi grumbled, kneeling down to join you, patting Bear’s stomach, now much thicker and fuller than it was a few weeks ago after you had first brought him home, skinny and neglected from his lack of care from his previous owners.

“You say trapped like we're kicking him out to the streets when we close the door on him. He’s adorable and sweet, but he’s a dog, Jav, he’ll be okay.” You smirked, playfully scolding Javi as you peppered Bear’s head with kisses, making his tail thump even harder as it wagged back and forth. “Tell your dad you’ll be just fine, won’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Javi groaned, knowing damn well you were right, even though he couldn’t bring himself to admit he had become an absolute softie for your new dog. “Alright, Hermosa, we gotta get you to this shower before Maria yells at me for making you late.” Pushing his hands against his knees, Javi let out a little grunt as he pushed himself back up to stand, checking the time on the silver watch wrapped around his wrist.

“Wow, so eager to get rid of me, you must really be excited to go get your ass kicked in golf.” You teased, now following suit and straightening out your dress as you stood, throwing your arms around Javi’s neck, pressing up on your tiptoes to plant a little kiss on his lips. “Sure you don’t want me to golf for you?”

“I’m sure, you dork.”

After Javi had insisted on giving Bear more than his fair share of treats before the two of you left for the day, you were on the road to Maria’s, Javi insisting that he drop you off, instead of letting you take the treacherous 2 minute drive by yourself. As you drove down Maria’s street, you couldn’t help but smile at the memory of walking up to her house for an end of the school year party almost exactly a year ago. A party that had ultimately turned a handsome stranger from the Laredo Sheriff's department into your future husband, now sitting in the driver’s seat on the way to your bridal shower. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself at the irony, leaning your head over onto Javi’s broad shoulder as you pulled up to Maria’s house.

“What’s up, Osita?” Javi asked, a twinge of confusion in his voice at the content and calm of your demeanor as the two of you arrived at the event that you had been seemingly dreading for days.

“I just- It was probably a year ago to the day the last time that we were at Maria’s house. Crazy to think that a year later we’re getting married and here for my bridal shower. I don’t know, a year ago I never would have thought I would have met someone I love so much, let alone be getting married, building a house, owning a dog, I- I’m just really happy that the department made you come to do that stupid presentation. You’ve made this year the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you, Jav.”

A tender silence hung in the air as Javi leaned over the center console, gently bringing his palm to cup the side of your face, his thumb tracing circles along your cheek, letting his sweet brown eyes lock with yours as a soft smile spread across his face. “I love you too, Osita.” His words barely left his mouth above a whisper, bringing his lips to yours. The two of you could have stayed like this forever, lost in the moment of your love for each other, but unfortunately, the world had other plans.

“JAVIER. DIOS MIO. CAN YOU KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF OF HER FOR 3 SECONDS?” Maria shouted, banging at the driver’s side window, the aggressive thumps of her hand against the glass making the two of you practically jump out of your skin.

“Jesus Fucking Christ….” Javi whispered, clutching his hand over his chest, trying to steady his heart rate back to normal, the two of you looking at each other in pure terror.

“If you’re going to drop her off and make a scene in my driveway, the least you can do is help an old woman out before you leave, Javier!” Maria demanded, still rapping her knuckles against the glass, the two of you trying to keep from dying of embarrassment as you exited out of the car.

“Sorry Maria…” The two of you grimaced, still trying to avoid direct eye contact with her before she decided to scold you more.

“Chucho is right, you two are no worse than a pair of teenagers. Come on, we only have an hour before everyone arrives and I need you and that wildly blonde haired boy to help me move chairs.” Shaking her head in disappointment, Maria was already halfway up the driveway and into the house as you and Javi trailed behind her, glancing at each other in confusion as to who she was referring to, until you noticed the Murphy’s car parked on the side of the street, realizing that Steve and Connie must have beaten you there.

Before you even had a chance to make it a foot into the house, you were greeted by an overbearing swarm of people rushing to say hello and give you a hug, already feeling overwhelmed 30 seconds into the start of your shower, and these were all people you knew. Your mom was the first to make her way through the crowd, squeezing you in a death grip hug, even though you had just seen her last night after picking her up from the airport and dropping her off at her hotel.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe the day is almost here! My baby girl is finally getting married! Ugh, you look beautiful sweetheart!” Your mom beamed, planting a chaste kiss on your cheek before making her way over to Javi, squeezing him just as hard. “C’mere, don’t think that you get to escape hugs from me too, Javi.” Javi looked over at you, trying his best not to laugh at everyone’s dramatics, knowing how stressed you already were, and that no one’s overly excited attitude was doing you any favors.

“Ouch on the finally there, Mom. What do you need help with?” You asked, noticing that your mom had been holding on to Javi for a touch longer than what was probably appropriate while everyone else continued to hustle and bustle around Maria’s house.

“Does he always smell that good? God, I wished your father smelled like that, the man smells like a sweaty sock. Javi, what kind of cologne do you-”

“Mom! Jesus Christ.” You interjected, burying your hands in your face.

“Sorry, sorry! Honey, you don’t need to help with anything, it’s your shower!” Your mom swatted her hand at you, shaking her head in disbelief that you would ask to help, even though she knew better than anyone it was not in your nature to sit back on the sidelines and let other people do the work for you.

“Why don’t you come help me set up decorations?” A soft voice replied behind you, making you whip your head around as their hand rested on your shoulder.

“Connie!” You grinned, throwing her arms around her, relieved to find someone who wasn’t going to drive you absolutely crazy for the next hour of party prep. “It’s so good to see you, thank you so much for coming!”

“Hey, Sweetheart!” a lower voice grunted from behind a stack of folding chairs making its way to the backyard.

“Wow, Maria put you to work too, Steve? Yikes, she’s running a tight ship around here.” You and Connie snickered as Steve set down his stack of chairs, revealing his already sweaty and frustrated face, considering Maria had probably made him carry 6 trips worth of seats up and down the stairs since he and Connie had arrived.

“You’re tellin’ me. Hey, make yourself useful and pick up some of these chairs, lazy ass. Sooner we get this set up, the sooner I kick your butt at golf.” Steve smirked, gesturing over at Javi, still standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips.

“In that case, I’m taking one chair at a time.” Javi sighed, pressing a quick kiss to your temple in stride towards Steve, giving him a swift hug and a pat on the back before being interrupted by a shrill and demanding voice.

“JAVIER. I HEARD THAT. IF I DON’T SEE YOU WITH A STACK OF CHAIRS IN YOUR HANDS THE NEXT TIME YOU’RE OUTSIDE, IT’D BETTER BE BECAUSE YOU ARE DEAD.” Maria shouted from across the house, making everyone’s faces freeze in fear.

“You heard the woman. Chop, chop, Peña.” Steve chuckled to himself before passing off half of the chairs over to Javi, and walking towards the back of the house as Javi picked up his share, begrudgingly trailing behind Steve.

“Alright, we should probably get to work on decorations before Maria finds us standing around for too long. I know you’re the bride, but I have a feeling that holds very little value to her until everything is set up.” Connie shrugged, nodding towards the backyard where the shower was being held.

“You’re definitely right, and I would prefer to live through my bridal shower in order to make it to my actual wedding.”

With all of the helping hands around the house, and Maria’s commanding dictatorship over shower setup, all of you had finished with time to spare, leaving your mom and co-workers to happily chat and gossip amongst themselves as you and Connie found your way to say goodbye to Steve and Javi, one of whom was looking much more excited about departing for golf than the other.

“Have fun, ladies. Any last words for your future husband before I absolutely obliterate him on the golf course?” Steve snickered, giving Javi a soft punch on the shoulder.

“Shut the fuck up, Murph.” Javi groaned, rolling his eyes as he braced himself for the next 3 hours of harassment from his former partner.

“Don’t be too hard on him, okay Steve? He gets grumpy when he loses, so just a reasonable amount of ass whooping, nothing too drastic.” You teased, now playfully punching on the other side of his arm, you, Steve, and Connie laughing to yourselves at Javi’s fed up frown.

“Says the one who literally pouted for hours after insisting we play "Sorry" and then she lost.” Javi smugly murmured, raising an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well someone wasn’t very sorry about it, were they… You know what, Steve? I changed my mind, go ahead and kick his ass for me.” A mischievous grin grew across your face, bursting out into giggles as Javi flung his arms around you, giving you a squeeze and shaking you in his grasp.

“Pendejo. Alright, you need anything else before I go get my ass kicked, Hermosa?” Javi asked, pressing a kiss into your hair. You were about to speak, but stopped yourself for a moment, looking Javi up and down, admiring how handsome he looked in the khakis and navy blue polo he had picked out this morning. You’d been so worried and worked up about the day that you hadn’t really had a chance to get a good look at him until now, and God, part of you wished you hadn’t taken the time to really take it all in as he stood next to you. You knew there was nothing you could really do about it now, but that wasn’t about to stop you from at least getting a little taste.

“Uh yeah, I uh- actually um, I uh, I scraped my finger earlier on one of the banners I was setting up and I think I got a papercut. I forgot to ask Maria about it earlier, but um, can you show me where the bandaids are upstairs again?” You tried your best to sound as casual as possible, but Javi knew just as well as you that there was no way in hell that you actually needed a bandaid. His brow scrunched in a slight confusion, head cocked to the side as if to say “I think I know where this is going and I’m not really sure it’s going to work” before giving you a little shrug, gesturing up towards the bathroom at the top of the stairwell, trying to keep his smug grin hidden between his lips.

“Yeah, I uh- here, let me show you where they are and I can get you one before we go.” Before Steve or Connie could even muster a word in protest, Javi was already dragging you halfway up the stairs, barely letting you make it to the top of the stairway before closing the bathroom door behind you.

“Band Aid, really? That was the best you could come up with?” Javi laughed under his breath, letting his hands roam down your sides and under the hem of your dress as his fingers dug into the meat of your ass, the heat of his breath tickling your skin where his lips met your neck, gently sucking at your pulse point, making a tiny moan escape from your mouth.

“I needed to come up with something to get you alone for long enough to give you a proper goodbye before you left.”

“And a Band Aid was the way to do that?”

“Oh shut up.” You giggled, draping your arms over Javi’s neck, letting your hands roam through the curls at the nape of his neck before pulling him in tighter to let his lips crash into yours with an electric intensity, his fingertips gripping deeper into your flesh.

“I don’t think-” Javi muttered between kisses, “I don’t think a bandaid is gonna buy us enough time to do anything, Hermosa.”

“I know. I just needed this. Just needed to kiss your stupidly handsome face. I needed something before you left me to fend for myself. Plus,” you paused, pulling back to see the lovestruck grin spread between Javi’s cheeks, “only fair that I get a chance to recreate our first kiss.” You snickered, gesturing to the interior of Maria’s bathroom, where you had found yourself with Javi almost a year ago to the day, your lips meeting for the first time as you sat on the ledge of the sink after Javi had came to your aid when a shattered beer bottle had landed in your leg.

“Fuck, I forgot our first kiss was in Maria’s bathroom. Real fucking smooth of me, huh?” Javi grumbled, rolling his eyes at his past self for letting your first kiss be in the bathroom of his Mom’s best friend’s house.

“Smooth enough for me to wanna marry you, so I guess it all worked out okay, didn’t it?” You teased, planting one last kiss on his lips before shooting him a wink and slipping out the bathroom, your face warm and tingly from the rush of excitement tucked away with Javi in your impromptu makeout session. Javi ran his hand over his face, taking a moment to try and compose himself, shaking his head to himself in shock and delight at how he found himself falling more and more in love with you every day.

“Okay, uh- sorry, sorry about that. Just didn’t wanna have to bother Maria for anything.” You sighed, darting your eyes away from Steve and Connie, their arms crossed against their chest with almost comically smug smirks on their faces as they watched you shuffle back down the stairs, Javi reluctantly trailing behind you.

“Yeah? How’d that bandaid work out for ya?” Steve smiled with a shit eating grin, nodding to your hands, neither of them with a bandaid anywhere in sight. You let out a gulp, trying to quickly tuck your hands behind your back, your cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment. “Goddamn, you two gonna make it 3 hours without touching each other, or am I gonna have to bring him back here after hole 4 for a mid-round makeout?”

“Jesus Christ, Murph, really?.” Javi grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Bye, love you. Have fun and I’ll see you soon.” Leaned over, snaking his arm around your waist to plant one last kiss in your hair.

“Not soon enough, apparently…”

“Murphy…”

“Stop makin’ out and I’ll stop givin’ you shit.”

“Touche…” You muttered under your breath, just loud enough to make the 4 of you burst into laughter, easing the uncomfortable tension that you had brought upon yourself from your antics. “Love you too, have fun getting your ass kicked.”

“Yes, yes, out, out, out! It’s only 10 minutes until guests arrive and your truck is taking up all the room in the driveway! Out!” Stampeding into the living room, Maria waved her hands at the boys, quite literally shooing them out of the house after overhearing your goodbyes. Giving a quick wave to Javi as Maria kicked him and Steve to the curb, you caught Javi’s head whipping around for one last glance at you before you left, giving you a once over with his eyes and a soft smile on his face as the front door shut behind him.

Truth be told, your shower ended up being way less painful than you expected it would be. In all honesty, it was actually somewhat enjoyable. The fact that your mom, co-workers, and Connie had put into helping everyone come together to celebrate you filled your heart with so much more joy than you could have predicted- your friends and family had bought you and Javi so many more gifts than you knew what to do with, had so many kind things to say about the two of you, and Connie had even gone out of her way to make sure that there were fun games planned for everyone to keep the need for constant socialization at bay. It really had ended up being a fun afternoon, even if it meant having to answer the same questions about your wedding, house and honeymoon plans more times than you could count.

Javi, on the other hand, could not have been having a worse time on the golf course, getting his ass thoroughly handed to him by Steve hole after hole, wondering to himself how anyone could bring themself to genuinely enjoy the torture that had been the past two and a half hours of hacking his club into chunks of grass and loosing his golf balls in the brush. The only consoling factor was that Javi was grateful to spend time with Steve, even if it meant being berated by endless questions from him on top of his painful performance while he played.

“You feelin’ ready for the big day?” Steve grunted, after smacking his driver against his ball from the tee box, Javi relieved that the pair were finally on the 9th and final hole.

“Yeah, I mean- Oh fuck me-” Javi grumbled, hitting his club and watching his ball fly into a patch of trees, the opposite direction of where he was trying to aim for, “I still can’t believe I’m getting married.”

“You and me both, Jav. I never thought I’d live to see the fuckin’ day, that’s for damn sure. Javier Peña, a married man.” Steve chuckled, slipping his club into his golf bag as Javi followed behind, grabbing what must have been the 57th golf ball from his bag this round.

“Shut the fuck up, Murph.” Javi chuckled, shaking his head at his friends’ jab, the two of them hopping into the golf cart together to try and scavenge for Javi’s long lost ball.

“I’m just given’ you shit, Jav. I’m fuckin’ happy for you man. Really happy. She’s a great girl. Best thing that’s ever happened to your sorry ass, I’ll tell you that much. Guess you don’t have to worry about really followin’ through this time?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re actually gonna get married this time? You’re not leavin’ her at the altar like Lorraine, huh?” As Steve laughed to himself, Javi could practically feel his stomach drop, his heart beginning to race as a wave of terrible guilt and panic washed over him at his friend’s ironic question.

To his own shock and surprise, Javi hadn’t thought about his last lack of a wedding once since the two of you had gotten engaged. He had been so head over heels excited to spend the rest of his life with you, that the failures of his past engagement had been tucked far away in the back of his mind. But then again, no one had been so gracious as to bring up the knife to the chest that was leaving Lorraine at the altar, and no one had been so gracious as to bring it up in classic Steve Murphy fashion.

Javi could audibly hear himself gulp, his heartbeat pounding so loud he could hear it ringing in his ears as the terrible reality of the past he had so glady forgotten about met him in a head on collision, instantly re-opening all of the cuts and wounds he had finally managed to sew together.

The last time he almost got married, Javier Peña had astronomically fucked up the lives of every last person who cared about him, leaving nothing but chaos and heartbreak in his wake.

Rationally, Javi could tell himself that his upcoming wedding was the polar opposite of everything that was once planned between him and Lorraine. Javi couldn’t have cared less about Lorraine. From the moment he had wearily accepted his fate, he had dreaded every moment of his future from that point on. But you were not Lorraine.

Javi loved you.

Javi cared about you.

Javi wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with you and give you everything in the world you could possibly want.

But, one mention of that 8 letter name had Javi’s brain flooding with every single doubt, regret, and painful memory of his past that he had fought so hard to forget. It had his mind reeling with every uncomfortable feeling of remembering the man he had been before you had come into his life and changed him for the better. He knew he was a better man. A stronger man. A man who was worthy of the love and compassion you had shown him from the moment you two had met.

Or was he?

“Earth to Javi? Hello? Anyone home?” Waving his hand in front of Javi’s face, Steve stared at Javi in confusion as to why it seemed like his friend had suddenly become lost in his own world as they pulled up to the patch of trees where his ball had most likely landed.

“Uh yeah, uh- what, sorry, um, what did you say?” Javi asked, visibly trying to shake the thoughts from his head, painfully scrunching his face and running his hand through his hair before looking back over at Steve.

“I asked if you were gonna go get the ball or if you just wanted to add to your +200 score and drop one here instead. Hey, you okay, man?” Steve questioned, pausing for a moment before asking the later half of his statement, seeing the color flushed from Javi’s face.

“Uh, yeah- Yeah, sorry, I just, I’m good. I’ll um, I’ll just drop a ball.” Javi muttered half to himself as he stepped out of the cart, barely paying attention enough to even remember what in the world he was even looking for in his golf bag.

If Javi wasn’t already thankful to be on the last hole before Steve’s comment, he sure as hell was now, mindlessly whacking his golf club with no regard as to how his ball made it to the green. Any thoughts about golf, let alone any previous attempts to even try to play well had now flown out the window, creeping thoughts of self doubt and resentment crawling through Javi’s mind. The rest of the round and the entire car ride back to Maria’s were spent in an internal battle ranging in Javi’s brain, the fight between the man he used to be and the man he’d thought he’d become rearing its ugly head with a painful intensity that absolutely felt like it was consuming him whole.

Steve, who was just as oblivious to his friend’s distraught state as he was to the idiocracy of his sarcastic question, had chalked Javi’s quiet and somber mood up to being an overly sore loser after getting mercilessly crushed at golf. Little did he know that his one silly comment had sent Javi spiraling down a trail of crushing self-doubt.

As the pair pulled into the driveway and made their way to the backyard where a few straggling party goers still lingered, trying to monopolize their time with you to get the details of your upcoming plans for the future. Being the attentive and patient person that you were, you were trying your hardest to seem enthused and engaged with in the conversation with who you thought was Javi’s Aunt’s Cousin (at this point, you had been introduced to so many new people, you were questioning your own name), but it wasn’t long before your future husband’s big, broad body entering the backyard had you more than distracted, your face instantly lighting up at the sight of him. Peeking over his Aunt’s cousin (or cousin’s aunt, you weren’t really sure) shoulder, you bit down on your lip to try and contain your excitement, letting a little wave shake from your hand in his direction.

Javi wished that your sweet smile and beautiful self were enough to snap him out of his funk, to see how you beamed in excitement just at the sight of him and shot him that lovestruck look he’d never get sick of- but for some twisted reason, it only made him feel worse.

You were everything- kind, smart, funny, the most breathtaking woman he’d ever seen. But what was he? Tired? Broken? A shitty guy who had done even shitter things, who had left nothing but destruction in his path for years and years, with no regard for who it hurt, or even worse, left for dead? How was he supposed to give you everything you deserved when he sure as fuck didn’t deserve you?

Before you had even said a word to him, you could already sense something was off about Javi’s demeanor that was due to more than just losing to Steve in golf. Even from across the backyard, his forced smile and tired brown eyes had a worried pit swirling in the bottom of your stomach, politely excusing yourself from your conversation to make your way over to Javi.

“Hi! You guys have fun at golf? Steve didn’t kick your ass too bad?” You grinned, wrapping your arms around Javi’s waist, pressing up on your toes to plant a kiss on his lips, his mouth barely ghosting over yours in return.

“Yeah, it was um- yeah, it was fine.” Javi nodded, trying to make a smile appear between his pursed lips. “How was the shower? You uh, you ready for Steve and I to start putting things in the truck to bring over to the new house?”

You immediately frowned in response, cocking your head in confusion at him. “Yeah, it was great, but hey, are- are you okay? You seem really off, like more than just Steve kicking your ass at golf off. Did something happen?”

“No, I’m- yeah, I’m good, Hermosa.” Javi’s eyes darted towards the ground, trying his best to stifle his sigh before another fake smile spread across his face, his response making you even more concerned than you were before, seeing he was clearly lying to you. As much as you wanted to problem solve right then and there to figure out what had Javi so distressed, the calls of one of the last groups of party goers wanting to say their goodbyes rang across the backyard, you flashing them a quick smile and a wave to signal you’d be over in a second. Before you could try and get anything else out of Javi, he had already backed himself away from your hands still tangled around his waist, nodding towards the group of women who were not so patiently waiting for you. “Go say goodbye, I’ll start loading stuff up.”

“Um, I- uh, yeah, o-okay. Thanks.” You murmured, half to yourself, as Javi had already begun to walk away to find Steve to help him start carrying things out to the car, leaving you more anxious and confused with every passing second.

With goodbyes finished, and decor and party setup cleaned up just as fast as Maria had demanded it to be put up, you and Javi made your way to your now packed car, followed by Connie and Steve, who had asked to see the progress on your new house while they were in town. You figured you’d kill two birds with one stone, inviting them over and having them help to unload gifts in the same trip, but now, given the strangely somber mood that Javi couldn’t seem to shake, you really wished it was just the two of you so you could figure out what the hell was going on.

You and Javi piled into his truck, Steve and Connie hopping into theirs and following you down Maria’s street towards your new house. A stark silence filled the car, praying to yourself that maybe Javi just wanted to be alone before he said anything about his current state, but 5 minutes down the road without a single word falling from his lips, you had a devastating feeling that wasn’t going to be the case.

Your leg bounced against the seat, fingers nervously drumming in your lap, letting out a quiet sigh to yourself before looking over at Javi and mustering up the courage to try and interrogate.

“Sooooo, golf was fun? I love ya, but I think it’s probably safe to assume Steve won?” You quietly snickered, trying your best to stay nonchalant.

“Yeah, it was good, Steve won, but that’s no surprise because I suck at golf.” Javi mumbled to himself, barely glancing your direction from behind the yellow tinted aviators perched on the bridge of his nose. Normally, if either of you had something that self-deprecating to say, it was at least followed by some sort of a joke or laugh, but his comment ended with nothing but a stoic silence as his hands gripped tighter around the steering wheel.

“Hey, babe, it’s okay, you don’t ever golf, so it’s hard to expect yourself to be good at something you rarely ever do.” You reached over to grab his arm to reassure him, that unsettling and anxious pit beginning to grow in your stomach again with the way Javi was acting. All he could muster was a half hearted huff in response, signaling to you that whatever was happening was much bigger than a poor game of golf.

“Javi… Baby, what’s going on? Did something happen with Steve?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing, Jav. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I told you, it’s fine.”

“Javi, it obviously isn’t fine if this is the way you’re acting about it. Why won’t you talk to me about it? I just wanna-”

“I told you, it’s fine, okay!? Jesus, I don’t need you to solve all my problems.”

Oh.

You and Javi had been in arguments before, hell, you’d been in fights before, but never once in the time that you’d known him, had Javi snapped at you like this. You could practically feel yourself recoiling in your seat from the harsh tone of his voice, fighting back the tears that had instantly begun welling in your eyes. You could feel your heart in your throat, choking down a heavy gulp as your lip quivered to try and keep from crying.

What had gone so wrong that Javi was acting like this?

You wish you had it in you to dig it out of him, but as you pulled up the driveway of your new home, Steve and Connie right behind you, ready for a tour, the best you could muster was a quiet, “O-okay.” As soon as the car was in park, Javi was unbuckling his seatbelt and slamming the door behind him, leaving you behind in the car, trying everything in your power to not become a startled, sobbing mess.

Wiping away the wetness pooling behind your eyelids, you swiped the back of your hand against your cheeks, taking a few deep breaths before following behind, mustering up as much courage as you could to keep your cool for however long Steve and Connie were planning to stick around before heading back to San Antonio.

You had hoped that Steve and Connie hadn't picked up on the palpable tension brewing between you and Javi, trying your best to put on a brave face as you paraded the Murphy’s through your nearly completed house. To be quite honest, you couldn’t have recalled anything that had happened in the time that they were there, your mind racing in torment as you watched Javi brood around your new home, barely saying a word to you, let alone make any eye contact, or look in your general direction.

As the four of you made your way upstairs, your attention was finally caught by the low lull of Steve’s laughter as he situated himself between you and Javi, grabbing you both by the shoulders and shaking you in his grasp.

“Well I’ll be damned. Y’all got enough rooms up here to house half a baseball team! You want that many kids driving ya nuts, huh?” Steve chuckled, making his way down the hallway, peeking into the empty bedrooms of your 2nd story.

“Steve!” Connie scolded, slapping the back of her hand against Steve’s stomach for his comment.

“What?! I’m just sayin’! I thought y’all would want like, 2, but there’s enough room for way more than that. I mean, I guess you two are fuckin’ goin’ at it like rabbits all the time, so I can’t really be shocked.”

“Steven Edward Murphy! Jesus Christ!” Connie snapped, shooting Steve a dangerous glare, aggressively raising an eyebrow at her husband as she gestured towards you and Javi.

“No, it’s okay, we don’t know for sure how many we want, but we figured if we had the space we’d add the rooms and even if they’re not bedrooms, they’ll still get used.” You had it in you enough to force a half smile across your face, flashing it at Steve and Connie before looking over at Javi.

While you hadn’t expected much of a response from him given the current situation, what you weren’t expecting was the panic stricken look painting Javi from head to toe.

If you weren’t already worried out of your mind about what the fuck was going on with Javi, you sure as fuck were now.

“Uh, I um- yeah.”

Those were the only words Javi was able to choke out through the audible thumps pounding in his chest as his face went ghost white, eyes peeled to the ground.

“See, Steve? You’re making them uncomfortable! You have absolutely no filter, I swear! I’m so sorry, you guys!” Connie frantically apologized, giving Steve another hardy slap in the stomach, making him wince.

“I’m just jokin’, Jesus Christ, sorry!” Steve grumbled, holding up his hands in defense from his wife’s accusation, sheepishly looking over at you and Javi with a little shrug.

“No, it’s uh- no, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You had given up on trying to be convincing at this point, your voice quietly shaking as you stared at Javi, now looking like a terrified, ragged shell of himself.

What the fuck was going on? Did Javi want to wait to have kids? Did he not want to have that many? Was he having second thoughts about kids all together? Fuck, was he having second thoughts about getting married? He’s literally never acted like this before. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You were sure at this point, you probably looked just as much of a mess as Javi did, letting your thoughts race wildly throughout your brain, the silence now lingering between the four of you now seemed to feel deafening, Connie beginning to pick up on the uneasiness festering between you and Javi and knowing she had enough common sense for her and Steve to pick up her cue to see herself out.

“Well, still, I’m sorry. We should probably get going anyways, we told the sitter we’d be back around 6 so we should probably hit the road. Thank you so much for the tour! The shower was beautiful and I’m so glad I could be there for it. We’ll see you guys for the big day soon! Just let me know if you need any help with wedding stuff between now and then okay?”

“Uh yeah, yeah of course. Thanks for all your help, Con. I’ll um- I’ll let you know if we need anything.” You stammered as Connie pulled you in for a hug goodbye, followed quickly by Steve, who planted a few pats on your back mid hug.

“Bye sweetheart, thanks for letting me steal this asshole for golf today. See y’all when you’re gettin’ ready to get hitched! Adios, loser.” Steve chuckled as he pulled away from your hug to tug Javi into another, giving him an even harder pat on the back before letting Connie say her goodbyes as well.

“Do you want me to walk you guys down to your-”

“Nah, we’ll find our way out, no worries. Bye lovebirds, see ya soon.” Steve grinned, giving the both of you one last wave farewell before disappearing down the stairs, their hushed bickers about Steve’s unnecessary comments quietly trailing behind them. Before you could even get a word out to Javi now that the two of you were alone, he was already halfway down the stairs behind the Murphy’s, not even bothering to look back at you as he mumbled under his breath.

“I’m gonna get the gifts out of the car and go sit outside.”

“Jav, wait, I-”

You could feel the lump beginning to swell in your throat, your bottom lip trembling with tears welling in your eyes as you watched Javi storm down the stairs without even so much as an attempt to care about what you had to say, leaving you with nothing but yourself and 5 empty bedrooms that now had you questioning everything you thought you knew about your future with Javi. You felt your body begin to collapse like a sad pile of jello as you melted into a sobbing puddle on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest as you cried into the flowy fabric of your dress, leaving wet stains behind from your tears. Your breaths were rapid and shaky with each muffled sob, trying to rationally grasp on to something, anything, as to why Javi was acting this way. But the more the gears frantically turned in your brain, the more irrational and terrifying your thoughts became.

This all happened so fucking fast. It’s only been a year since I’ve known him. Is he realizing it’s too much? Am I too much? This was all too fucking good to be true, wasn’t it, you fucking idiot.

Taking a few more minutes to collect yourself enough to at least stop full on sobbing, you wiped your wet cheeks with the back of your palm, inhaling a trembling deep breath as you mustered up every ounce of courage you could find to face whatever fate was waiting for you downstairs with Javi.

Each step down the stairs felt heavier than the last, leaving your fingers anxiously drumming against your legs as you saw Javi’s broad body hunched over the side of the unfinished back patio, staring out to the tall grass of your backyard swaying in the warm summer breeze. If it were any other time, you would have rushed up behind him, wrapping your body around his back and attacking him with kisses until the two of you were wound up in a fit of laughter and giggles, happily tangled in each other's bodies.

Right now, you were terrified to even step too close to him.

Carefully and quietly sliding open the glass door to the porch, you prayed with every bone in your body you weren’t going to do anything that set Javi off enough to even let you attempt to have a conversation with him about what was going on. The new wood softly creaked under your shoes, making Javi turn his head just enough to acknowledge your presence as you wearily approached him. Taking one more deep breath, you opened your mouth to speak, but with your jaw hanging open, Javi’s words filled the stark silence before yours could.

“I don’t know if we should get married.”

Fuck.

You could practically feel your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach, like the weight of 1,000 bricks had been dropped on your body all at once, hearing that come out of his mouth. You could have mentally tried to brace yourself for a lot of things, but hearing Javi tell you he didn't want to get married anymore sure as hell wasn't one of them.

“Javi, I- baby, what- I don’t- I don’t-”

“Why the fuck do you even wanna marry me?”

Your brows scrunched in pain and confusion at the sharp tone of his words, desperate to try and understand what point he was trying to prove in this gut wrenching game he seemed to be playing.

“Because I- Javi, I- Javi I love you, that’s why.” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you sat down next to him on the edge of the porch, leaning over enough to see the tears glistening down his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy as he tried to stifle the sobs rumbling in his chest. He shook his head back and forth before his gaze fell into his lap.

“You shouldn’t love me.”

“Javi… what the fuck are you talking about?” you plead, feeling the pain and hurt creeping through your body as you watched the tears he was so desperately trying to fight. With a scornful scoff, Javi shook his head, pressing against his knees to stand, taking a few paces around the porch, burying his hands in his face, his words muffled and muted by his palms covering his mouth.

“What the fuck am I- I’m not- I’m not what you deserve. I don’t understand how you don’t fucking see that.”

You followed suit, bringing yourself to stand with your arms crossed tightly across your chest, staring at Javi in bewilderment, biting down on your tongue so hard to keep from bursting into tears you thought you were going to make it bleed. You could feel the storm of pain, anger and confusion brewing deep in the pit of your stomach, your body numb and mind blank.

“Javier. What the fuck is going on? I don’t understand why-”

“Because last time I was gonna get married I fucked up everything. For everyone. I hurt everyone I cared about. I went half way around the world and I spent a decade fucking things up even more. How do you know I’m not gonna fuck everything up again? I love you too much to let it happen to you. The thought of ever hurting you even half as I much as I’ve hurt anyone else because of my choices fucking kills me. I can’t do it. I can’t hurt you like I’ve hurt everyone else. I’d never fucking forgive myself. I love you more than anything, Osita. I love you more than anything in the world. You deserve someone who isn’t going to hurt you. Someone who will do right by you, by your family, your future children, I just- fuck- I don’t think that person can be me.”

A deafening silence hung in the air as you stared blankly at Javi, tears streaming from his tormented brown eyes, his body trembling with devastation and regret. You had no doubt your body mirrored his as the guilt and heartbreak flooded you from head to toe, wondering how in the world you had ever let the man you loved and cared about more than anything feel like he wasn’t enough for you.

You wished you could speak- to find the words to tell him that he was your everything, the glue that had put you back together when you were convinced there was nothing else that could mend the broken mess that you had become. You wished you could express to him that there was no one on the face of this earth that you would rather spend the rest of your life with than him- that there was no one else you wanted by your side through every moment of your life, the good, the bad and the ugly, more than him. You wished there was a way to tell him that you loved him more than anything, but in that moment, all you could do was grab him and wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing him as tightly as your body would let you, letting your wet face rest against the familiar warmth of his chest as you whispered into the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Javier Peña, you’re the only person it could be.”

You could feel his chest begin to rumble with heavy sobs as his arms draped around you, pulling you against his body so closely, it was like his life depended on it, like he couldn’t bear the thought of ever letting you go again. One arm stayed wrapped around your back as the other slid up the back of your neck, his broad palm cradling your head in his grasp, his fingers practically digging into your skin to keep you close as the two of you let yourselves do nothing but hold each other in your teary silence.

You let one of your hands reach up towards Javi’s face, cupping his jaw and forcing his gaze back on to you, as your thumb traced back and forth along his cheek, wiping away the wetness that had been welling in his eyes.

“I need you to listen to me, okay?” You asked, waiting until you felt Javi’s head gently nod up and down in understanding in your palm before you continued, “The man you were before doesn’t scare me. If it did, I would have been gone a long time ago. The man you were before has turned you into the man that you’ve become. The man that I want to spend everyday with for the rest of my life. Every good day, every bad day, every painful, hard and shitty day, and every day in between. And I promise that I will spend every last one of those days until the day I die trying my best to convince you that you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And if I die trying, then so be it. I love you, Javi. Don’t you ever think for a second that there is anyone out there that I want to spend the rest of my life with more than you, and I won’t ever let you forget it.”

It was only moments before both of Javi’s hands were cradling your face, gently trembling as they cupped your soft, wet skin as you locked eyes with his, watching his face shift from terrified to bewildered, thinking he must have misheard what you had just said to him.

“Osita, I-”

“Promise me.”

“Promise you what?”

“Promise me that you believe me. Promise me that you know I love you more than anything.”

There was a part of Javi’s brain that wished he could find something to prove that he couldn’t. To prove he wasn’t worthy of keeping the promise you had made to him. To convince himself that he had no reason to believe he was worthy of the love you had given him.

But the truth was, for the first time that he could remember, as he looked down at you, the woman who had taken his life and forever changed it for the better, who had helped to heal him in ways he didn’t know he needed, who had cared for him in ways he never thought he deserved, and who had stood by him even as you learned about the ugliest parts of him he never thought he’d forgive himself for, Javier Peña finally realized he had learned what it was like to be worthy of love.

You had made him realize he was worthy of being loved.

A small gulp slid down his throat between his shaky breaths, taking a moment to soak in everything about you, before letting his lips ghost across yours as a quiet whisper left his mouth.

“I promise.”

And just like that, his lips crashed into yours with a ferocious and tender passion, soaking in every ounce of the sweet flavor of you, a taste he knew he would never tire of, one that he craved like nothing else.

“I love you, Osita. Fuck, I love you so much.” Javi moaned between your kisses, praying with every bone in his body you knew how much he meant it.

“I love you too, Javi.” The hot breath of your words danced across his lips before they were crashing together once again, his tongue swiping between your parted mouths as he ran his hand down your back and around your waist, pulling you so close you were convinced your bodies were going to melt into one as you pressed against his broad chest, now needily grasping at fist fulls of his shirt.

In that moment, it was like the two of you could feel something in the air change. The tension lifting, the frustrated fog fading, the both of you desperately needing the other to know how much you loved them. The Javi you knew and loved had come back, returning home to you. All of the fear and sadness was replaced by a rampant desperation to know how much you needed him, almost as much as he needed to show you how hopelessly he craved you, too.

With your bodies still tangled together, your kisses became messier and sloppier as you backed your way towards the door that lead inside, stumbling and trampling over each other’s feet without any regard for where you were headed until you felt your back bump against the kitchen island, the rounded edges of the countertop stopping you in your tracks as Javi caged you between his broad figure and the island.

Both of your hands were now feverishly roaming across each other’s bodies before Javi had run his hands down your thighs, hoisting you up to sit on the countertop, planting hot, wet kisses across your neck and collarbone while his fingers crept under the hem of your dress, his palms sliding up and down your legs, digging his fingers into your flesh.

“Javi…” You whimpered, letting your eyes close and head fall back as he sucked at your pulse point, leaving you with one hand bracing yourself against the edge of the counter and the other with your fingers wrapped around the navy fabric of Javi’s shirt, clinging on for dear life.

You eyes opened, and gaze shifted downwards as you felt Javi pull away from your grasp, watching him drop to his knees, slotting himself between your parted legs and kissing the inside of your thighs while his hands tugged at the waistband of your already soaked underwear, hastily shuffling them to fall down your legs and pool at your ankles. His needy kisses up your thighs crept closer and closer to your core as your legs draped over his shoulders, kneeling before you like you were the altar of everything he worshiped as his deep brown eyes looked up at yours, like he was begging for forgiveness for his sins.

“I’m so sorry, Osita. I’m so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. Fuck, I love you so much. Let me show me how much I love you. Please, baby. Please let me show you how much I need to be yours.”

Your response was nothing but a ragged moan as you felt his hot breath hovering over your cunt before letting long, flat licks of his tongue drag through your folds, each swipe pressing firmer than the last, lapping up the arousal dripping from your entrance like a sweet nectar. With one hand still white knuckling the edge of the countertop, the other shot down to bury itself in the dark curls of Javi’s thick locks, tugging at ends to find some place to ease your tension as he began to flick and swirl his tongue relentlessly against your clit, lapping you up like a man starved.

“Oh fuck Javi- fuck- you feel so good, baby.” You moaned, raking your fingers along Javi’s scalp as you watched his head bob nestled between your legs, feeling the low hum of satisfaction thrumming in his throat as he began to suck your sensitive bundle of nerves, latching his lips around your clit as his mouth worked feverishly against your cunt. You could already feel the tingle beginning to grow at the base of your spine and spread to your legs as Javi found every sweet spot that he knew made you lose all control, desperate to make you feel how much he needed your love and forgiveness.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Let go for me baby, I’ve got you.” Javi hummed before diving back between your legs, tightening his grip around your thighs as his tongue danced around your clit relentlessly. It wasn’t long before you could feel your orgasm begin to flood your body, pleasure crashing through you as you cried out his name, a death grip clutching around the counter and Javi’s dark locks. Javi worked you through your high, drinking up the juices of your slick as you came, feeling your legs tremble as they stayed slung over his broad shoulders, not stopping until your body was shaking and your whimpers and moans had become so wrecked, he had no choice but to stop to relish in the blissed out, dripping mess he had made you. He would have loved to stay like this forever, watching you become more and more wrecked beneath his tongue, the want, no, need, to be buried inside your heat, getting lost in your wetness and warmth, savoring in the way no one else would ever be able to have you like he did, to know that you were his.

Javi worked in a determined silence, rusting with his belt buckle until the metal clangs of it opening had his pants and boxers in a puddle around his ankles, splaying kisses across your neck as he slid you towards the edge of the counter, his fingers digging into your hips with a bruising intensity. He stroked himself a few times as he lined his cock up with your entrance, guiding his tip through the glistening arousal covering your folds, leaving his dick shiny with your slick as you whimpered into his skin.

“Javi… Please, baby. I need you.” You whimpered, instinctively bucking your hips towards him, desperately craving him to ease the achy emptiness between your legs.

Resting his forehead against yours, the dark, damp curls of his hair brushed your skin, the hot and heavy heat of each of your shaky breaths melting into one another’s as your lips ghosted his, only fully meeting yours to catch the moan that had escaped your mouth as he pushed himself into your heat, letting himself bottom out, his tip brushing against your cervix. You couldn’t help but wrap your legs around the small of his back and drape your arms over his shoulders, desperate to have your bodies needily tangled and intertwined together as you savored in the sweet sting and stretch of his fullness.

He began to rock his hips, letting his cock drag in and out of your cunt, taking his time with each stroke, the movement making you dig your fingernails into the fabric of his shirt stretched over his muscular back, in turn, making the grip he had around your waist even tighter, his fingers buried in the soft flesh of your stomach where his hands had crept under your dress.

The way he punched up into you, perfectly pounding against your g-spot with each thrust, combined with the way the hairs at his base rubbed along your clit, already had the inevitable coil beginning to tighten in your belly. You dug your nails deeper into Javi’s skin, grasping for the damp curls at the nape of his neck, your whimpers growing louder and more desperate with each stroke as you could feel yourself beginning to crumble beneath him.

Each stroke seemed to become deeper and fuller than the last, Javi’s pace now climbing in speed and intensity as he felt your cunt clench tighter and tighter around his cock, knowing that familiar feeling meant you were coming closer to your end. You could barely muster anything but a whimper, your soft pleads and begs going straight to his dick as he slid and out of your wet heat.

“Fuck baby, don’t stop- ahhhh- please don’t stop, I’m so close.”

The lewd sounds of skin hitting skin and low, ragged moans echoed against the bare walls of your unfinished kitchen as Javi fucked deeper and deeper into you, singing sweet, soft praises against your skin between locking your lips with yours.

“Fuck- Dámelo, Hermosa (Give it to me, beautiful). Need to feel you soak my cock before I fuck you full of me. It’s okay mi amor- mierda- té tengo. (my love- shit- I’ve got you.) I’ve always got you. Forever.”

You could feel your legs lock even tighter around Javi’s waist as heat began to bloom in your belly, only needing a few more thrusts as you rolled your hips against his before your mind went blank and vision went white, your orgasm crashing through your body and flooding every inch of you with pleasure so intense, you could feel yourself going limp in his grasp.

“Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god-ahhhhhhhh-” You whimpered as Javi fucked you through your high, now desperate to chase his own as his thrusts became rushed and sloppy, pounding into you as your walls gripped around his cock like a vice. Your warmth and wetness consumed him, only needing a few more pumps before he could feel himself following suit, hissing through gritted teeth as incoherent babbles spilled from his lips.

“There it is, baby. Fuck- fuck, you’re so fucking perfect. I love you so much, Osita. Con todo mi corazón. (With my whole heart). Oh fuck- I’m yours forever. Oh shit, I’m gonna cum to, oh fuckkkkkk.”

With one last thrust, Javi finished buried deep inside you, hot ropes of his cum coating your walls as a slick mixture of spend leaked down your thighs, leaving him panting while he slumped into your shoulder, his chest heaving with labored breaths, trying to compose himself. Bracing himself with one palm flat against the counter next to your hip, his other hand reached up to your face, brushing away a piece of stray hair back into place before gently cupping your cheek as he spoke.

“Osita, baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I didn’t mean what I said earlier, I just- fuck- I’ve never been so sure of anything, but when we were at golf today, Steve brought up Lorraine, and I- I just was so scared I was gonna fuck everything up again, and I-”

“Oh God, he brought up Lorraine?! Jesus. I knew it. I knew this was Steve’s fucking fault.” You sighed, quietly laughing to yourself as you shook your head.

“Wait, how did you-”

“Because it just seemed so strange that you were acting like this all of a sudden. You got back from golfing with him and it was like you were a different person. I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I was freaked out and panicking wondering what happened because you’ve never acted like that before. That, and because I love Steve, but he’s an idiot.” The two of you were both now laughing, Javi rubbing his hand over his face before rolling his eyes, wondering to himself how he had really let his friend’s stupid comment get the best of him.

“I’m so sorry, Osita. I should have just ignored it, I just hadn’t thought about it in so long and I was so terrified to mess everything up again. It would kill me to hurt you like that.” His thumb circled around your cheek as he tilted your gaze to meet his, sincerity and remorse swirling in the dark pools of his chocolate brown eyes.

“Javi, listen, if this is moving too fast, or it’s too much for you, I want you to be able to tell me, I understand if-” Before you could finish your sentence, Javi’s lips were planted tenderly against yours, pulling away from your mouth with a goofy grin and satisfied sigh.

“I promise you, I’ve never wanted anything more. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. I can’t wait to marry you,” he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss on your cheek, “I can’t wait to live in our new house with you,” he grinned, planting another ticklish kiss on your neck, “I can’t wait until we can finally start filling up these empty rooms with little baby Peñas” Javi chuckled, now peppering kisses all over your body, making you erupt in a fit of laughter and giggles, squirming and flailing in his grasp, playfully swatting at him. “I can’t wait to spend every day for the rest of my life with the most beautiful, amazing woman I’ve ever met.” He smirked, tilting his head to let your mouths meet again, this kiss filled with a tender passion and intensity unmatched by his previous playful ones.

It was the kind of kiss that said all of the things that words couldn’t. The kind of kiss that had butterflies fluttering in your stomach like the first kiss you had shared in Maria’s bathroom almost a year ago. The kind of kiss that made you fall even deeper in love with him, even when you thought you couldn’t.

It was also the kind of kiss where everything else in the world seemed to melt away and make time stand still, a kiss that you could have stayed lost in forever… unless a certain someone hadn’t forgotten his wallet at your house and needed to come back and get it.

You were so oblivious to anything else happening around you, that neither you or Javi had heard your front door open, followed by the rushed, impatient footsteps of Steve and Connie, arguing about where Steve could have left his wallet, and how on earth he could have left without realizing it was missing from its usual home in his back pocket.

“Seriously, Steve, I can’t believe we’re gonna waste a whole hour having to turn around and come back here because you couldn’t remember your wallet!”

“Con, I told you, it’s right on the counter, I know where it is, lemme just go grab it really quick and then we ca- Oh Jesus fucking Christ!” Steve shouted, walking into the kitchen to see you and Javi making out on your island, your dress pushed up well past your legs, and Javi’s bare ass on display from his pants still pooling around his ankles.

“Ahhhhh!” You and Javi shrieked, practically jumping out of your skin to see Steve’s tall and lanky frame frozen in your kitchen, now scrambling to try and fix your clothes and hair to try and save yourselves at least some dignity.

“What the hell are you two doin’?!” Steve grimaced, trying not to cackle to himself as Connie rushed up behind him to see what was happening, only to very quickly cover her eyes and turn away from you and Javi.

“Us?! What the hell are you doing here? Jesus, you ever heard of fucking knocking, Murph?!” Javi groaned, shuffling his pants back up and fixing his hair before helping you off the counter, trying your best to hide your beet red, embarrassed face.

“I forgot my wallet! Forgive me for thinkin’ you two would keep your hands off each other for long enough to let me come pick it up in peace.” Steve frowned, raising up his hands in defense.

“I’m sorry! I told him to call you to let you know he was coming to pick it up, but he seemed to think it wasn’t a big deal.” Connie scolded, giving Steve a forceful nudge of her elbow before finally turning back around to face you and Javi, knowing you were at least halfway decent. “God, I love you, but you are an idiot.”

“You can say that again…” You snickered under your breath, just loud enough to make Javi and Connie join in your laughter, leaving Steve with his arms crossed over his chest, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Hey, listen. Call me what you want, but I don’t think you’ll be callin’ me an idiot when you need me to come babysit your 47 kids so the two of you can get some…” He paused gesturing to you and Javi’s disheveled state, “... time to yourselves. Like I said earlier, y’all gotta lot of rooms to fill, and I don’t think you’re gonna have any problem doin’ it.”

And for as much as you wanted to give Steve the ten pounds of shit he deserved, as you looked up at Javi standing next to you, you couldn’t really even bring yourself to be mad. Because in the end, the only thing that mattered was him- the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. The one who was your future, the one who stood with you through every twist and turn, the one who was your home. What started as a day that had you questioning everything had turned into one that had never made you feel more assured. You knew that Javier Peña loved you more than life itself, and you knew that you were so lucky to spend the rest of your life getting to prove to him over and over that you loved him just as much.

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

429 notes · View notes

gavisuntiedboot · 1 year ago

Note

Friends with benefits! Pedri 🥰🥰

I just love avoiding sleep don't I? Here we go.

~~~

"I told you not to call me when I was busy."

"You wouldn't pick up at 1:30 in the morning if you didn't want to speak to me, angel."

You tried your best to suppress your smirk, opting to roll your eyes instead so that the Canarian could see your feigned annoyance.

"I'm curious - sue me. Now what do you want to I can hang up in your face and get back to studying? These kinematics aren't going to enter my brain just by staring at them."

"You know what I want."

This little "arrangement" with Pedri had been going on for the better part of a year now. It started off as a summer fling: you were heartbroken by a long-time boyfriend, and he was tired of Instagram models spreading his messages to every gossip site that would pay a Euro. So when he met you at the coffee shop where you worked, soft spoken and hands trembling as you punched in his order, he knew that you were going to be the most fun project yet. And boy was it a project. Between school and work, you barely had a second to breathe, and all the things he did to seduce other girls (dinner, clubbing, tickets to a match) seemed to have no place in your schedule. But Pedri is a patient boy, and after receiving variations of the "I'm so stressed and tired and home alone" text, he knew the only way he was going to get what he wanted was to go to you.

And come he did. Well, both of you did. The buildup and flirtation had led to some of the most mind blowing sex he had ever had. He never even thought about wanting to corrupt a sweet, innocent little thing until you. The tears on your lashes as you looked up at him, his soul sucked out of his body with you asking "did I do good?" was a combination he would like to inject directly into his veins. So that was the arrangement from thereon out. He had told you he didn't have the time or capacity for a committed relationship because of his job, but if you were down to keep doing this, then so was he. And honestly? The thought was appealing. You were swamped with responsibilities, with no time to breathe let alone try and go on dates and be a girlfriend. Why not just have mind-blowing sex semi-regularly?

Turns out, this fucker got a lot hornier a lot more often when injured. Since there were no games or early morning training sessions, Pedri had been calling you almost nightly during his injury, often coming over just for the company. It would be a lie if you said it was unwelcome, but you still had a life and tasks to complete.

"Pedri, I have-"

"The day off tomorrow. You told me that last week, so don't lie."

"Right. I have a reading day at school and I took off from work to study. I need to get like a 98 on this exam to get an A in the course."

"Maybe I wanted to call you and help you study."

His face lit up as he heard your laughter come through the line. He knew he had been clingier than usual lately, and a wiser person would have questioned why he wanted to spend all of his free recovery time with his sex buddy. Put Pedri wasn't wise. He was 21 years old with a cute girl who was DTF and he had her address saved into his phone.

"So I'll be there in...?" He let his voice trail off, and your sigh came through clearly.

"I need an hour at least to finish this chapter."

"Perfect. I'll shower and head to you."

You had not even closed your laptop yet when the doorbell rang, causing you to jump slightly at the loud sound at such a late hour. In your PJ shorts and tank top, you scurried to the door, ushering in your boy toy before the others in your building could see. Mrs. Rodriguez 3 doors down loved a good scandal, and you weren't going to be the one to cause it.

"Took you long enough." You said, pushing him towards the bed as soon as he kicked off his shoes.

"Eager now aren't we, angel? I haven't even said hello yet."

"There are better things for you to be doing with your mouth."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"I don't know, Pedri. This whole get together was your idea. You have to take charge."

What famous last words. Not even 15 minutes later, he had you digging into the wood of your headboard, hips moving with reckless abandon as you rode his face. Your pants and moans came as if it wasn't three in the morning, and he wrapped himself around your thighs to bring you closer, closer, closer whenever you dared to hover or lift your weight slightly. One you had finish, you dismounted and laid next to him, aftershocks wrecking through you. He smirked, propped up on one arm as he watched you struggle.

"Do you want to go back to studying?"

"Fuck you."

He rolled on top of you, smiling wide and leaning back so the dim light could reflect off the wetness on his hard cock.

"Oh no, baby. You'll never get a good grade like that. The grammatically correct way is, "I want to fuck you." And you can add a 'Please' at the end if you're feeling polite."

Pedri was concerned to get a call from you three days after your little session. You had blocked his number so that you could focus on your last exam, and he expected you to be gone for longer.

"Hello?"

"I got my exam grade back."

Your voice was mellow, and he mentally stilled himself, preparing to be yelled at first thing in the morning. He didn't want you to fail, of course. It's just something there were things personally more important to him than your grades.

"And?"

"I needed a 98% for an A." Your voice was still flat and gave nothing away.

"Right. And you got...?"

"I got a 98.5%." Pedri shot up from his mattress.

"So that means that we'll be fucking intensely during your next round of exams, right?"

~~~~~~~~~

Okay here you go! fun fact this is based on me irl when i slept over at a guy's place and then the next day got a 99 on my exam. Enjoy!!!!!!

#gavisuntiedboot #gavisuntiedbootasks #fc barca #pedri #pedri one shot #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri smut #pedri x reader smut #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri fanfic #football smut

524 notes · View notes

valerie-is-in-the-cupboard · 4 months ago

Text

Out of Darkness - Chapter Five: Promises - Alastor x human!fem!reader

Hello~~ You wouldn't believe how difficult this chapter was to write. Initially, I had a completely different idea, wrote it down entirely, but scrapped it because I didn't like it. Then, I almost finished this chapter when I learned an important lesson about saving your work while writing on the phone… So, I hope it turned out at least acceptable. If you find Alastor a bit off and don't enjoy it, please let me know. Sometimes I might write him in a better light, I guess haha. Enjoy reading, loves <3Go to the table of contents.

Words: ~4080 TW: swearing, angst with happy ending

(Y/n) was walking back home, the empty streets covered by the dark of the night, making her almost run to the safety of her house. She held her phone to her ear, listening to portions of Brenda's stories about her day, still aware of her surroundings.

"Anyway, she's a bitch..." Brenda ended the long story about one of her coworkers who keeps hitting on her boyfriend. "You listening?"

(y/n) snapped out of her trance, realising that her mind was wandering off indeed, and it wasn't only because of her fear of getting kidnapped. "Yeah, I just... I try to be aware of what's happening around me, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that. But you know what would've been great? If your boyfriend would've picked you up from David's, not let you wander off alone, especially knowing that you're uncomfortable doing so." a slight annoyance was present in Brenda's voice. (Y/n) sighed. It wasn't the first time Brenda or David warned her about Alastor.

"He's not my boyfriend, Bren."

"Oh, yeah. Because you've been taking it slow for the past few days. Too slow."

"And what's so wrong about it?" (y/n) said back, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Oh, no, girl, don't take me wrong. It is great to take it slow. But not when you're the only one who seems to try." (Y/n) raised an eyebrow at her statement, not understanding what she meant.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on! He doesn't call, he doesn't show up at your door, he doesn't ask you on dates. It's like... He's not even trying to take it slow at this point, he just straight up tries to ignore you, but you always come back."

(Y/n) froze for a bit, thinking about her words. As much as she wanted to say the girl was wrong... she wasn't. Alastor never reached out to her, but he never declined her offers either.

"Ok, but then why did he never reject me?" (y/n) asked, mostly trying to convince herself that Brenda was wrong. "He could've just said no."

"Girl, you saved his life. He probably feels guilty to turn you down, but goddamit, you need to stop!" Brenda sighed, trying not to hurt her friend. She was never the sensitive type, but she has always been straightforward when helping a friend. For this reason, (y/n) always appreciated her. "I don't want to seem a bitch, but I'm saying this for you... I hope I'm wrong because I can tell you really like him, but you should stop being so clingy."

"So what should I do?" (y/n) asked as she entered her apartment.

"First, stop calling him. No calls, no texts, no asking out, nothing." Brenda told her, her voice demanding and confident. "Second, if he does in the end reach to you, you do not answer. Not immediately, at least. Maybe wait a few hours... or better - days. And obviously, it also depends on the reason he's calling. What do you do if he asks you on a date in the park?"

"I say yes?" (y/n) asked, curious if she was right or wrong.

"Wrong!" Brenda cut her off before she could even finish. "You say 'I don't know yet. I'll let you know later.'"

(y/n) chuckled at how silly this conversation seemed.

"Don't laugh! Now, on the other hand, if, after all these days of not doing anything, he asks you to lend him 20 dollars, what do you do?"

"I say I'm not in town?"

"Bravo!" Brenda said proudly. "You need to keep him on his toes. Or else, he will think you're a little puppy who's willing to do everything."

"I see, Bren. Thank you. I need to go. We talk later?"

"Sure. Oh, and (y/n)?" Brenda started, (y/n) humming in response. "I know things between you and Mark didn't work out and it altered your brain, making you see things differently than the rest of the world..." (y/n) smiled softly, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "But you're wonderful. And you deserve someone who cares about you. So don't settle for less just because. Trust me, been there." the girl said softly, a side of her that didn't always come to light.

"Thank you... Means a lot. I love you!" (y/n) said and hung up, sitting down on the couch. Her eyes got a bit watery as she thought about what Brenda said. She was right. She threw herself at Alastor, without thinking.

So, she didn't call him and just waited. A day passed, then two, then five and, eventually, a week. There was no sign of Alastor. Not a single text or call. Nothing.

"Nothing?" a text message from Brenda appeared on (y/n)'s phone. She grabbed the phone, her eyes puffy after she's been crying the whole day. She's acted like a fool, giving him everything he needed and now he left her like an old carpet.

"no" she hesitantly texted Brenda, who answered back almost instantly.

"Well, fuck him. Wanna talk?"

(Y/n) didn't want to talk. She wanted to go see him, scream at him, telling him he was a dick. But she had to stay home and move on. They weren't even dating, so why did she care so much?

"gotta clean the apartment. We'll talk later." (y/n) answered and got up. She wasn't exactly lying. The apartment was a mess and she had to do something that would take her mind off this entire thing.

She cursed the day he showed up at her doorstep. She didn't even want to help him at first...

She didn't tell Alastor the whole story of their meeting. Yes, she wanted to do something good, but it's no one's first choice to bring a stranger into their apartment so late at night, especially if they're a woman living alone.

Truth was she came back from work at around nine, finding him there. Drunk people looking for warmth in apartment buildings were nothing uncommon around there, so the police didn't always interfere, simply saying "They will wake up and leave".

She started knocking on the doors of the neighbours that she knew, not wanting to disturb the entire building with her problems. No one answered, making her believe they were either at work or asleep since some of them were old people.

So she called David and waited outside for anyone to come so she could ask for help. No one. Not a single person showed up. She stood there for one hour and no one appeared in sight. Eventually, freezing and knowing that it would take another hour for David to come, she returned to her door, seeing the passed man still in the same position.

Something that night made her do it. Something begged her to let him inside. Maybe it was her consciousness, telling her that if the man died, it would be her fault, or maybe it was just a moment of recklessness... but she brought him in, covering him with a blanket and turning the temperature extra-high just so he wouldn't die. And look where that brought her...

She wanted to cry, not only because of him but because of her too. She was an idiot. She should've kicked him out as soon as he woke up. Why did she care? If he died, she would've never found out anyway.

And she did think about it. That night, the night before and many nights after. Why did she care if he died? Maybe because most of the time that's how human nature worked. It makes us feel sympathy for others. Or maybe because she would constantly ask herself why the man at the club cared. He could've pretended he didn't see anything or take her home and do something worse. But he didn't. He helped her and asked for nothing in return. They didn't even knew each other's names.

Her thoughts were interrupted when her eyes fell on the little music box Alastor gifted her in the past days - they were walking in the park, passing by a lady selling some old decorative stuff. She could tell he liked it the moment he heard the enchanting, soft music, seeing the little ballerina elegantly spin until the song would stop.

She didn't have money on her that day but planned on buying it for him. But despite her plan, he was the one who gave it to her. She looked at him, her eyes wide. "But... I thought you liked it. Why are you giving it to me?" she had asked him. He smiled at her.

"Yes, dear. I liked it. It is very beautiful and unique. That's why I wanted you to have it."

Tears flooded her eyes and without thinking she got dressed and stormed out of the door. She was angry and she needed explanations. She wasn't gonna sit there crying while he was probably out there partying and sleeping around in the apartment she'd found him with the money from a job she helped him get. Adrenaline fueled her veins, her brain only concentrated on what she was going to tell him. She didn't care that it was cold anymore, she didn't care it was so late at night either.

All of her frustrations rushed to her. She was thinking about how she didn't say anything when she found Mark with her friend having sex, how she didn't get to see the faces of those men at the club when the police took them into custody... Without her will, she needed to take it out.

(Y/n) arrived way too quickly to his place, stopping in front of the door. For a moment, she just stood there, contemplating on what she should do. She took a deep breath and knocked a few times, but no answer. Without thinking, she tried on the doorknob, realising the door was opened. As the door slowly opened with a loud creaking noise, strong smell of paint and stale air engulfed her, almost forcing a choke out of her.

She cautiously entered, a dim light coming out from the room. Upon entering, she froze in the doorway, the scene in front of her seemingly ripped out of a murder documentary. A few candles were lit and the floor was full of paint coming out of a knocked can. There were many broken glass pieces and fallen books or objects. And on top of this scene, there was Alastor, casually sitting on the couch, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked away from her, almost as if she wasn't there in the first place.

"Alastor...?" she hesitated, a bit taken aback, her courage long gone. She looked for a moment behind her, making sure she left the door open just in case. The atmosphere felt so heavy, almost as if she was in a horror movie. "What happened?" she asked, stepping a bit closer, waiting for his reaction.

"I tripped and fell." He said after a short pause that actually felt much longer. (Y/n)'s anger came back, clearly seeing through his lies.

"You think I'm an idiot?" she asked, saying it a bit more aggressive than she would've liked. Alastor chuckled at her question, drinking the remains of the whiskey in one sip. He looked up at her

"No, dear, I don't think that," he said and his gaze turned away from her again. "But you're quite the gullible one, aren't you?"

Alastor said the last part mostly to himself, not really meaning for her to hear it, but she did. (Y/n)'s eyes watered at his words.

"You are such a dick..." she said through her teeth and walked towards the door.

Alastor's eyes widened slightly at her tone. He hadn't expected her to confront him like this.

"Wait!" he called out. His voice was a little louder than before, a hint of panic in it. (Y/n) stopped, despite her better judgment, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

Alastor took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on her back. For some reason, the thought of her walking away and never coming back made his heart clench in his chest.

He stood up from the couch, taking a few steps closer to her. "Please... don't leave," he said, his voice low and soft.

She slowly turned to face him. He looked changed. His once tidied-up and always-on-point appearance was now dishevelled. His hair was a mess, greasy strands covering his forehead and his clothes were dirty, full of dry paint.

"Why wouldn't I? Do you need anything else? A bigger house? Maybe a car?" she said, sarcasm filling her tone. "But don't you worry! I will give them to you so you can dismiss me again, right?"

Alastor flinched at her words, the sarcasm in her tone hitting him like a dagger. He clenched his jaw, his usually calm demeanour faltering for a moment. "You don't understand..." he said, the words coming out sharper than he intended.

(Y/n)'s anger and boldness grew with every second. "No, Alastor, I don't!" she spat the words at him. "I don't understand why, after everything I did, you couldn't at least call to tell me to leave you the fuck alone it that's what you wanted. I think I deserved at least that!"

Alastor’s mask of composure slipped, his expression darkening. "I never asked you to do anything for me, did I?" he snapped, his voice now laced with irritation. "You decided to help me on your own."

He took a step closer to her, almost towering over her. "So don’t act like I owe you anything."

You know what?” She said, her voice low and serious. “You’re right.” She admitted to him, looking into his eyes, trying her best not to cry right there.

“I wish I kicked you out that night right after you woke up, Alastor.” She told him and stormed off the door, shutting it with force behind her. Alastor stood there, dumbfounded, as he watched her storm out.

The sound of the door slamming echoed through his empty apartment, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

He leaned against the wall, his expression a mixture of anger and frustration. He knew he messed up, but his pride didn’t allow him to admit it, to go after her. He walked into his living room, the silence surrounding him like a suffocating fog, he heard her parting words echoing in his mind.

'I wish I kicked you out that night...'

He clenched his jaw, his fists balled up in irritation. He should have been the one saying this. He should’ve been the one to dismiss her. But somehow, the tables had turned and she had the upper hand. And it frustrated him to no end. She was the reason he didn’t leave in the first place and now she’s mad at him.

Alastor growled in annoyance. She had no right to be mad at him! It wasn't his fault. He didn't ask for her help, and he certainly didn't ask her to keep checking up on him.

He clenched his teeth, the rage in him now boiling over. "Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on the door she had slammed shut. He should just let her go, forget about her. She was a mere human, after all. Alastor was not. He had much more important things to focus on.

But he found himself unable to do that. He was irritated, yes. But the thought of her being out there, alone and upset, sent a sense of unease creeping up his spine.

And so, he sent one of his shadows to follow her, roaming the earth to look for her. He paced the room, minutes feeling like hours, his uneasiness stopping slightly when the shadow returned.

"Well?" he asked, his voice betraying a note of impatience.

The shadow nodded, the confirmation Alastor was waiting for. He didn't say a word, but a small wave of relief washed over him.

"Take me to her," he said quietly. Alastor followed the shadow as it led him to the park they used to walk in. His steps were firm and confident, but his mind was swirling with a mix of emotions.

He saw her sitting on a bench, shoulders slumped, head bowed. She was crying. This sight sent a pang of guilt through him. He didn’t like it. Didn’t like that he was the cause of her crying.

Alastor approached her, a coil in his stomach forming with every step. She noticed him and quickly looked away, ignoring him as he sat down next to her. Her nose and cheeks were red from the cold and she was trembling, trying to keep her already pale hands at least a little bit warm.

"You're cold," he noted, his voice unusually soft. He wanted to scold her, maybe even reprimand her for storming out like that. But seeing her like this made him hesitate.

“I’m not.” She quickly said, still not looking at him

Alastor rolled his eyes at her childish reply. "Don't lie. I can hear your teeth chattering from here." he retorted, but there was no real bite to his words.

“Why do you care?” She asked, her voice barely audible.

Alastor frowned at her question, his irritation growing. "I don't." he lied, his voice sharp. He was not about to admit the truth of why he was here. How could he admit it when even he couldn’t understand? Why was he here to check on her, after he just ignored her? He was Alastor. Not some lovesick puppy. He turned his head away from her, the silence between them thick and uncomfortable.

“Then leave…” (y/n) eventually said. “I’ll be fine. David will pick me up.” She was in fact lying. She didn't want to call David. Not anyone for that matter. She wanted to be left alone.

Alastor clenched his jaw, his irritation growing as he knew she was bluffing and lying about the ride. He could read her like an open book.

"I don't care if David picks you up or not," he said, his voice harsh. "But I'm not leaving you out here all alone in this cold." (Y/n) got up, harshly looking at him.

“You know what? Do you want to be even? Fine!” She shouted. “You saved me from freezing to death! Thank you! Now we’re even! Now leave me the fuck alone!” Her eyes were red and swollen from the crying, tears still flooding them. She walked away, but Alastor quickly got up and grabbed her arm, his grip firm.

With a low growl, Alastor reached out and gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. His eyes bored into hers, anger and... worry burning into them.

"You're coming with me," he stated firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

(Y/n) wanted to protest, but she didn’t. She wanted to pull back when he grabbed her hand, leading her away from the bench, but she didn’t. She was tired, cold, angry…

He stopped a cab and opened the door for her, following her inside.

As the cab rattled to life, Alastor silently looked at (y/n). He could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the anger still simmering just below the surface. The ride was quiet, the tension between them palpable. When they finally reached her place, he followed her up the stairs, his hand still gripping her arm firmly.

Alastor immediately let go of her as soon as they entered the apartment, the sudden lack of warm skin against his hand sending an unexpected jolt through him.

He looked around the apartment, his eyes taking in the familiar surroundings. Everything was just as he remembered it. Organized and tidy. Peaceful.

“I expect you to leave as soon as possible.” She coldly said to him as she took her shoes off, keeping her gaze away from him.

Alastor bristled at her cold tone and the way she avoided his gaze. He had half a mind to just turn around and leave without a word, but something kept him there.

"You really want me to leave?" he asked, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability he didn’t mean to show.

She sighed, tears refusing to come out anymore, but the feeling of wanting to cry was still there. “I am nothing to you, Alastor… why would I want you to stay?”

Alastor's heart clenched upon hearing her words. He wanted to deny it, tell her she was wrong. But he couldn’t. It was a fact he had reminded himself of countless times.

He was a selfish being. A demon. He didn’t have any room for a human in his life. Not even her.

But then, why was he here? Why was he so bothered by the thought of her crying? After a few moments of silence, Alastor finally spoke up, his voice quieter than before. "Sit down," he instructed her, making his way to the couch. She followed without protesting, hugging her knees to her chest as she sat down.

Seeing her like this made Alastor's heart skip a beat. She seemed so small and vulnerable. He looked away from her. He could feel her eyes on him, waiting for him to speak. He hated the silence, the tension. He wanted to say something, anything. But words eluded him.

What was he supposed to say anyway? Sorry? Sorry for dismissing her? For ignoring her? For treating her like a nuisance, a burden even though she has only ever helped him?

(Y/n) sighed, getting ready to get up, knowing that this would lead them nowhere.

"I'm not good with emotions and feelings," he finally said, his voice coming out soft and quiet, making her stop in her tracks. He didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I've never been good at them. I don't know how to deal with them. I don't know how to deal with you..."

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow at his words. As much as she hated it, she still… felt some sympathy for him. She was hoping he’d say something awful, just so she would not be able to forgive him, just so she would have a reason to kick him out.

“With… me?” She asked.

Alastor sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "Yes, you," he confirmed, his voice growing taut with irritation.

He hated this. Hated this feeling of vulnerability, of being open and honest about his emotions. It was so unlike him.

"You're different." he continued, finally looking at her. "You always have been. You make me…" he trailed off, the words getting caught in his throat. He wanted to tell her she made him feel things he had never felt before. That she was unlike anyone he had ever met. That she had somehow weaselled her way into his heart, making it beat in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. The words were there, at the tip of his tongue, but they died before he could say them out loud.

He felt her warm hand suddenly resting on him, his whole body almost burning at the sensation. He pulled it away as a reflex, making her do the same.

"Sorry... I'm not used to... being touched so suddenly like this," he said, his voice so quiet. He looked at her, a pink blush spreading on her cheeks as she fidgeted her fingers. He noticed that at her. Whenever she was anxious she would do this. Slowly, he reached back for her hand, her eyes widening at the interaction.

"I'm sorry... I..." he started, not really finding the words. "I really don't want to make you suffer." he squeezed her hand slightly.

"You keep saying this, Al... But I don't get it... Hurt me how?" she asked him. He sighed, caressing the skin with his thumb.

"I can't open up, (y/n)... I was not used to this kind of things... My father..." he stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. What was he doing...?

She squeezed back his hand. "Alastor... If you want this... I am willing to wait."

He looked at her, a genuine look on her face. He knew she didn't understand... He knew she would never understand but... Alastor also knew there was no way he could leave, not now.

His instincts acted in a weird way around her. He felt the need to protect her, to be with her.

"I do..."

Tags: @silence-burns, @ratsematary

Go to next chapter

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor fanfiction #alastor x you #human reader #fem reader #female reader #x reader #x female reader #fanfic #alastor x reader fluff #out of darkness

94 notes · View notes

svmjaeyvn · 10 months ago

Text

love maze, s.jy.

chapter one pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)

masterlist

add yourself to the taglist here!

genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.

synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.

or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.

contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!

a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D

MDNI, 18+

tap below to continue

CHAPTER ONE: PINEAPPLE

masterlist next

word count: 2.5k

warnings: alcohol, partying, creeper in a store, bestie jay, already stepping up to be a fake bf jake duhhh

a/n: short and sweet intro

"HEY SORRY, JAY's busy—”

"Hey baby!" You smile brightly, attempting to seem causal but emphasizing the conversation rather loudly. Wandering through the isles aimlessly, stopping to pretend to browse the selection of cereals while peeking through the corner of your eye, you keep watch on the unfamiliar man that seemed to be following you.

You've been at the store for 15 minutes, around 10 of those ago you noticed the same man over and over, passing by each other with first polite smiles which morphed into a sort of anxiety feeling on your end noting how he began to linger around more obviously, far enough away to not seem suspicious to those around but definitely setting off an alarm in your head to stay alert.

It was a Friday night, after finishing up with your last minute shift due to a coworker calling out, you decided it was time to finally grocery shop, something that you've been putting off all week due to laziness but now you wished you opted to eat eggs for the third day in a row rather than be here. Typically, you and Yunjin went to the store together, but with her out on a date, that left you alone for the night.

"We're still cooking for dinner right? I'm at the store right now picking stuff up," You continue after meeting confused silence on the other end. Due to the increasing gut feeling and you desperate for someone to come to your aid in at least knowing where you were if you did end up missing and on the news, you called the only person you knew in the area that would come. Jay Park, an extended family friend that you practically grew up attached to each others hips, had followed you along to the same Uni two years ago. With a three hour car ride being the distance to your home town, you and Jay depended on each other as a sort of familiarity and unspoken acknowledgment that there was support for one another.

University created a sort of distance in your relationship, both studying different majors and finding your own friend groups outside of one another but you still talked every other day through text and hung out occasionally. Jay, being a well know frat boy around campus, became a sort of gossip topic of him and his other frat members. His admittedly attractive looks that he grew into helping with his popularity along with his love for the party scene.

You on the other hand, were a home body more than anything. After your first year, you had moved into an apartment about 5 minutes away off-campus with your previous dorm-mate and newly founded best friend. You and Yunjin became close relatively fast and being able to get through freshmen year living together in the tiny space meant you'd work perfectly well moving in a place where you both got your own rooms and a private bathroom.

Thus, your routine consisted of lectures, homework, your part-time job, and sleep. It was quiet and comfortable. Not that you were opposed to a night out and getting drunk off your ass every once in a while but being a party girl didn't seem like your cup of tea to do every weekend.

"Sorry, ___ it's Jake. I don't know where Jay is, he just left his phone with me earlier," Jake speaks into the phone, making his way out of the booming house to better hear her. The muffled music and loud voices heard from his end causing a slight panic to rise in your stomach but also nearly face palm. It's a Friday night, of course he was partying.

You rake your brain to put a face to the name. You've met Jay's frat friends on occasion, though they mostly consisted of when you were all drunk so it was sort of a blur.

"Yeah I'm at Target," You nod, specifying your location and hoping that whoever Jake was, he was sober enough to comprehend that something was wrong and that he'd remember your words. "Do you want anything else specifically?" From the corner of your eye, you can see the man beginning to pace, seemingly growing antsy with waiting on you to move. Deciding it was best to make your way toward the front where more workers would be, you completely disregard your near empty cart and pushed it along while holding your phone to your ear.

"... Are you okay?" Jake inquires, his brows burrowed together in confusion but feeling the underlying feeling of the call. The only reason he answered was because he knew you and Jay were close, having met less than a handful of times but the contact picture Jay saved you under allowed him to remember who you were. The three spammed messages you sent prior to your call being unable to be read due to his phone being locked. He intended to only inform you of the reason the said boy wouldn't respond for a while but it ended up to this rather weird conversation.

"Uh... no I don't think so," You answer, acting as if you were responding to a question. Jake straightens up slightly, unaware if that was an actual answer or if you were still on the one sided random talk through the phone. He sort of hoped it was the second option for your sake. "Okay I'll look. I'm sure they have pineapple,"

Jay was an overprotective guy, especially when it came to those he cared about. Early on, whenever they'd go out, he told everyone that their emergency code word was pineapple. Jake, along with the other boys, found it utterly ridiculous and never once had to actually use it but he did remember the word loud and clear even months later. The conversation was far too random and specific for you to just casually be saying that, and thus Jake assumed the safe word was something Jay used universally.

"You're at the store in town right?" He asks, now heading back into the house, weaving his way through the bodies in search of his friends.

"Yeah," You nod disregarding that he couldn't see it. There was two Targets in the area you lived it, though one was undeniably farther away from the University. In town referred to the one you stood in, absentmindedly staring at the electronics assuming there had to be more cameras in this area. "Okay, well, I'll be home soon then,"

"Give me ten minutes," Jake said into the phone before handing up the call, not giving you time to respond. Scrunching up your nose, you felt significantly smaller without the comfort of another voice on the other line. From the opposite isle, you could see the man lingering around the corner, now staring directly at you but quickly looking away upon making eye contact.

With a slight pit in your stomach, you take a second to breathe. Attempting to seem inconspicuous, you glance over your items and visibly pale. The only things consisted of body wash, a bag of lemons, and ice cream bars that were now melting. You had circled the food department a near three times and hadn't picked up much even though you made it rather clear on the call you were meant to be getting dinner. Silently praying that the man wasn't keen enough to pay that much attention, you shake off the shiver that ran down your spine.

Meanwhile, Jake ran through the house collecting his friends one by one. Luckily, with it being only 7:30 and rather early in the night, no one was near hammered yet, barely started on a buzz when he interrupted. Not much was shared in the process, the urgent way Jake pulled them along was enough for them to follow but Heeseung finally questioned it once they were packed in the car driving away from their own party.

"Where we going man?" The eldest asked, running a hand through his hair lazily.

Jake, being the only one with less than half a bottle of beer in, was in the driver seat. He drove fast, weaving through the lanes occasionally but still safe enough to not seem suspicious.

He glanced back at Jay through the rearview mirror, said boy tilting his head back in confusion. "___ called you, she's having an issue. Said something about pineapple and wasn't having an actual conversation with me so I'm assuming someone was following her,"

Jay straightened up, leaning closer from his seat while the other two spared glances. "When?"

"Right before I went to find you, told her to give me 10 minutes," Jake answers, partially relieved that Jay seemed concerned by the matter meaning he interpreted the call correctly but that only meant you were actually in trouble. "It's been 6,"

"Drive faster," Was all the other boy said, the few shots of liquor seemingly gone as he sobered up almost instantly. Though, the panic and overwhelming anger that brewed in the back of his head indicated that he was being influenced by the intoxication. Not that it would be a problem, especially if you were in danger of some sort.

Heeseung and Sunghoon sat quietly as Jake drove, connecting the dots for themselves due to the conversation. A minute later, the four were barreling out of the car and into the building. The bright lights contrasted against the dark outside, the boys looking around for sight of the girl.

"Give me my phone," Jay tells Jake, holding out his hand expectantly while he pulls it out of his back pocket. Tapping through the screen for a moment, Jay hold up the device to his ear waiting for you to answer but it goes to voicemail.

"She was talking about food so maybe she was over there?" Jake offers, leading the way toward the back of the store which held all the groceries.

Jay tries once more, holding the phone up as it dials. This time, there's the faint chime of an incoming call that was further away. Sunghoon nodded in the direction it came from, heading toward the area which consisted of books, music, and other miscellaneous things.

"No, thank you, I'm alright," Your voice was recognized first by Jay. Speeding up his steps, he rounds the corner to see you backed away toward the far end of the isle, the cart in between you and an unfamiliar man who had his back toward the four. Your eyes widened seeing the familiar face, slightly relieved but still in a sense of panic considering the man that was following you grew the courage a minute ago to actually say something now, keeping you tucked away in the corner as he did.

Attempting to step away, you shift to the right but the man matched your movement, staying directly in your path and blocking it. Moving to your left, he matched that as well causing you to purse your lips. He smiled, seeming as if it were amusing to see you becoming undone with his actions which sent a chill up your spine. Aside from his creepy stalking, he seemed and looked like a regular guy, which made it even worse because of how normal he seemed upon first glance.

"Teenie," Jay spoke up, making his and the rest of their presence known, using a nickname rather than your actual one. The guy turned at the sound, his face morphing from the smile into one of annoyance, a clear grimace on his features at the interruption. "Come here," The space between where you stood and Jay was a couple of feet, having to go around the man in the process as he had backed you into the wall moments ago.

Expecting for him to allow you to move without resistance this time, you go to step around him but he still continues to block your way. Going as far as grabbing hold of your arm causing your eyes to widen and pull back instantly. The anxiety that grew in your stomach elevated significantly, it was wishful thinking that having four grown and tall men would have the single one back down but it seemed he was crazy enough to not care about that.

"Stop being a fucking creep dude," Heeseung spoke up, growing rather frustrated and particularly peeved that he had the audacity to grab you. If they hadn't shown up he couldn't imagine what he'd attempt.

"We're not done talking," The man sneers, the tone of his voice causing the hairs on your neck to stand up, goosebumps forming along your skin though your body felt like it was burning up inside. "You the boyfriend?" He adds, nodding toward Jay who faltered, confused by the sudden question.

Jake lets out a small sigh, growing tired of the back and forth. Stepping forward, he holds out his hand to you without a word. Now a mere foot apart, he stares down the guy, almost taunting him in attempt to do something. Quickly, your hand latches onto his, albeit clammy from your nervousness but as he pulled you into his side, you felt significantly safer than before.

Tucking you behind him, Jake walks you both back a few steps, returning to the rest who had moved up closer. Still holding tight onto Jake's hand, you grasp onto his arm as well, holding it as if it were a security blanket and would make everything better.

"I am," Jake answers, taking the rest of you by surprise. His fib was believable, you clinging to his side playing the part and the boys merely went along with it. "We done here?"

The man didn't say a word, the silent stare down that occurred between Jake and him more than enough. Finally, he looked away, accepting there wasn't anything he could do to win in this. Whatever that was. Turning around, Jake began to lead you away, not bothering to look back as the other three followed behind, ensuring he stayed in place as they went.

You let out a shakey sigh, deeming it far enough away as you could see the exit. Feeling the ever-growing tears weld in your eyes, a few began to slip from the corners painting soft streaks down the apples of your cheeks. Silently, Jake allowed for Jay to pull you into his embrace, presuming having the one you were closest with to comfort you would be best.

A quiet sob slipped past your lips upon being wrapped into his arms. Jay let out a small shush, one of his hands rubbing small circles with his thumb against your back, visibly upset by how affected you were as he tucked his head down toward your ear, whispering words of reassurance that everything was okay and nothing would happen.

Heeseung tapped Jake's shoulder, nodding him along to give the two of you a minimal amount of space but also linger close enough in case the crazed man decided to have second thoughts and come back. Meanwhile, Sunghoon had made his way over to one of the cashiers, explaining the situation and how the female staff should be cautious until security had eyes on the man.

Jake glanced over as Jay had pulled back from the hug, his hands on either side of your face as he wiped away the tears that kept falling from your eyes. His heart tugged at the sight of you, looking utterly disheartened with a slightly red nose and your mascara beginning to smudge.

He's glad he answered.

#jake #jake sim #sim jaeyun #enhypen #jaeyun x reader #enhypen jake #smut #jaeyun smut #IM SO EXCITED THIS IS FUN

221 notes · View notes

itsphoenix0724 · 1 year ago

Text

Meet Me On The Ice (Azriel x Reader)~ Chapter 1

Summary: You and Lucien Vanserra have been skating together since you were children, but when he has an accident that takes him out right before championships you turn to your brother and his hockey team to fill the position. His best friend Azriel has lethal grace on the ice and owes your brother a favor, which seems like a match made in heaven, except you can’t stand each other. Can you and Azriel pull a routine together in time for your competition, or will it all spiral out of control?

MMOTI masterlist

Warnings: mentions of injury, blood

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Hello everyone! Happy December, my final exams are over so I'm so excited to get back into writing! As you all know I've been planning this for a while, so I hope you're all as excited as I am!!

DISCLAIMER: I am not a figure skater or a hockey player, so while I'm trying to be as accurate as possible, it's likely some things may not be correct and/or are bent a little to fit the plot!

Figure skating is a lot more thrilling than people give it credit for. Only a few people are willing to be thrown 5 feet in the air at 20 miles an hour and completely trust the other person to catch them.

The ice was always your happy place. The biting chill against your skin, the feel of gliding across the rink faster than light. It was thrilling, to say the least. You and Lucien had worked so hard this season to advance this far, and you only had a couple of competitions left before the both of you graduated from university. The two of you were on a winning streak, and this competition looked like it would turn out no different. Your coach smiled from the sidelines as the two of you performed in perfect sync, his hands around your waist as he lifted you effortlessly into the air before resting you safely back on your skates. It was time for the big finish, you sped in a circle around the rink executing a triple toe and Lucien built up his momentum to launch his axel. Your eyes dart to the judges' impressed faces before you whip your head back to him and-

Something’s wrong.

The angle– the spin, is all out of balance, and in the blink of an eye, Lucien hits the ice. His head makes a sickening crack on the ground as red floods around him, and his right leg is twisted in the wrong way. The scream you let out doesn’t even sound like yours as you race over to him, the sounds of the crowd echoing around you in a sick symphony.

“Oh my god”

“Someone call an ambulance!”

“Get him off the ice quick!”

You don’t hear any of them too busy trying to shake Lucien awake with tears streaming down your cheeks, but he’s knocked out cold. A blur of red is next to you and it takes you a moment before you realize it’s Lucien’s mother. It’s another gut-wrenching eternity of trying your best to hold a towel against his head to stop the bleeding, Lucien still unresponsive, before the gentle hands of a paramedic ease you away from your best friend. You watch with abject horror as they load him onto a stretcher, and carry him out of the rink. Helping Lucien’s mother off of the ice, she follows them outside. The ringing in your ears still hasn’t stopped, not even when your own mother and father come racing down the arena steps, a hand coming out to hold your jaw, and another wrapping your coat around your shoulders. Before you blink again they’re ushering you out of the rink and into the car.

It’s two days before you can see Lucien in the hospital.

You had driven in complete silence, anxiety coiled like a viper in the pit of your stomach. Parking your car in the visitor lot you look at the teddy bear you buckled safely into your passenger seat, its soft brown hands clutching a heart with cursive writing spelling Get Well Soon. It had been dumb and cheesy, but you snagged it at the grocery store while picking up some of Lucien’s favorite snacks and couldn’t resist.

Hopefully, it would make him laugh at least.

The nurse at the desk smiles at you kindly before pointing you in the right direction of his room. The atmosphere of the hospital weighs painfully on your shoulders as the elevator ride seems to stretch on for decades. You thankfully find Lucien’s room easily enough, his russet eyes light up at the sight of you even with the angry red stitches that run through his hair.

“There she is!” He bellows, eyeing the bear and the bag of treats with interest. You set them on his bed and he laughs a joyous sound as he props the bear next to him on the bed, declaring it his new best friend.

“How are you feeling?” You ask tentatively, settling into a chair next to his bed. His leg is in a cast, elevated, and you run your bottom lip between your teeth with worry.

“I’m alright, all things considered.” He promises rifling through the bag to dig out the pack of spicy chips, “I’ve got a concussion, and my legs broken so bad I’ll be in physical therapy for months.” Lucien meets your eyes mournfully, looking as if you’d just punched him in the face. “I won’t be able to skate for the rest of the season. I’m so sorry.” He dips his eyes averting his gaze to the broken leg, like glaring at it hard enough will force it back together again. You feel your heart sink to your feet, but you refuse to let it show, trying to keep a happy smile on your face.

“None of that matters, all I care about is that you’re okay.” You reach out to grip his hand, and his warm palms engulf your own.

“You can find another partner to finish the season,” He urges, Lucien’s other hand comes up to cup your cheek, wiping away the silver trying to fight its way out of your eyes despite your best efforts. You had already registered in the partner skate division, so it was too late to switch now. But even thought makes your stomach turn.

“No one could ever replace you,” You promise, leaning into his warmth. It’s the truth. You had been skating with Lucien since you were small, and now you’re about to graduate from university. There could be no one else. No one else that, without fail, had such a warm touch even on the ice rink. No one else you could trust to catch you every time, even if it means sacrificing his safety.

You had tried to skate with one other partner, once, in freshman year when Lucien caught the flu so bad he was puking for weeks. It hadn’t ended well and you hadn’t trusted anyone since.

“You should skate your last season. Even if this new guy will never be as good as me.” It’s a lighthearted attempt at a joke, and you accept the crutch of humor, chest rising with a breath of laughter. “You could ask Rhys, maybe he’d do it? He used to skate before he switched to hockey right?” That was true, but he switched to hockey right before middle school to play with his friends, maybe he’d consider it if it didn’t conflict too much with his schedule.

“I’ll think about it, let's focus on tearing through these snacks in the meantime,” You snag the peanut butter cups out of his bag despite Lucien’s vehement protests and turn the staticky hospital tv to shitty afternoon cartoons.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

You held your tears in successfully until you got home. You didn’t want Luicen to feel guilty, didn’t want him to see you cry, so here you were curled in a ball under your covers. Hiding from your problems like a child, hoping if you just ignored them long enough they would magically solve themselves. You had asked Rhys earlier about possibly skating with you, but between learning to take over your father’s business, university, and hockey he understandably regretfully declined. The bedroom door creaks open, hearing the delicate tread of Rhys’s footsteps before he settles next to you on the bed, rubbing a soothing hand along your curved form.

“It’ll be alright I promise,” Rhys mutters. “I think I might have a solution, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.” You rise from your chosen shelter, raising a brow and wiping at your tear-stained cheek.

“What is it?” You question, and Rhys almost flinches. “I’ll do almost anything to skate again.” He must see the desperation and he carries on anyway.

“Azriel is still suspended from the team at the moment, and he owes me a favor…” Rhys watches your eyes catch up to his words, the disgust flashing in them. Both of Rhys’s best friends had couched surfed at your house at one time or another, and you and Azriel had never gotten along. Not like sunshiney Cassian, who may be viscous on the ice but was one of the most gentle people you knew. Cas was the one who made an effort to include you in activities, who playfully tossed you in the pool in the summer, and took you for long drives when you were upset. Azriel spent those summers by the pool brooding in the shade until you left, and was currently suspended from the Velaris University hockey team for throwing another player so hard into the glass he was concussed. “You said you would do almost anything to skate again,” Rhys raises his hands in surrender and you roll your eyes.

“What about Cassian?” you offer. He would probably do it for you, but Cas wasn’t suited for figure skating. His style was too brutish, it was nothing against him, he just wouldn’t pick up the flow and patience you needed to skate with the music fast enough in time for the competition. As much as you hated to admit it, Azriel moved across the ice like smoke, flowing and ebbing with a lethal grace you couldn’t help but admire.

“Cas is too busy with school and hockey,” Rhys had clearly already run through the option. You knew that if you begged Cassian he probably would, but his stance at the school depended entirely on his grades and his performance in hockey. You wouldn’t give him any chance to mess up his scholarship. “Please just talk to Az with me tomorrow.”

“Fine.” You relent, perhaps with a little more attitude than necessary. So you correct yourself, Rhys is going out of his way to help you. “Thank you.” He gives you a small smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving your room.

So that was how you found yourself bundled up at the rink, at six in the fucking morning, with Rhy watching Azriel practice. He moved like a panther, prowling around the ice and slapping the puck with such ferocity the crack makes you flinch. He tears off his helmet, skating over with a mop of sweat-soaked hair. Az’s hazel eyes flick over you once in distaste before dismissing you completely and turning his attention to Rhys, which makes your temper rise to a heated spark of fury. Your brother clears his throat, nudging you on the back to speak. Azriel turns back to you and raises a cold dark brow.

“Would you please consider being my skating partner for my last few competitions this season? Please” you choke out, trying your best to send him a pleasant smile. Then, Azriel actually has the balls to laugh at you.

“Yeah, I heard about what happened to Vanserra. What makes you think I would ever want to do that?” Azriel chuckles out, voice dripping with sarcasm. You’re about to agree, call this whole mess off, and return to the comfort of your bed when Rhys cuts in.

“Because you owe me,” The two of them have some silent stare-down that you wish you could be privy to. Whatever Rhys had done for Azriel in the past it must have been big because after a moment Azriel fixes those molten eyes on you again.

“Fine, I’ll do it. Be here tomorrow at five so we can try to figure out this shitshow.” He tucks his helmet back over his head and prowls back around to the ice. You guess you’ll be meeting him here tomorrow night and you find yourself agreeing with the sentiment that this will be a shit show indeed.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #acotar au #Meet Me On The Ice

225 notes · View notes

yoonia · 16 days ago

Text

Hello^^

This is your annual (monthly) psa from little old me.

I'm sorry for being MIA. I had a ton of fun with my birthday bash event on October and I love that I ended up writing a couple of new pieces at the end aside from giving you guys some lovely moodboards to enjoy, which was a blast.

Unfortunately, on the final days of October, I started getting an allergy reaction from some of my meds, which led to me getting a weird skin infection appearing on my right arm and with a terrible inflammation on my upper arm. I also experienced a symptom similar to carpal tunnel syndrome which I got from hours of designing and drawing for work during the day and playing with canva and photoshop and writing on my computer at night, so I had to take a long break as soon as I finished my event and November came around.

To top it all, I think I'm a bit burnt out. I've been releasing a ton of things since August, and my mind (and I guess, my body) is asking for a break. I've been taking some time off from the internet and Tumblr because of this and have been focusing on recovering (bc your girl has bills to pay and I can't draw anything with this arm *sobs*).

I'm still recovering right now, with my arm still sore and hurting, but I'm slowly getting back to writing and creating some stuff again as I'm doing NaNoWriMo independently (without the site). Here's where we are at so far:

— Nefarious, that was planned to be released at the end of October, is about halfway done. I'm currently focusing on this one to release as soon as I'm done with it (because this won't be the last instalment from In Motion and I want to get the other out on December). Thanks to my break, I was able to open the draft with fresh eyes and...hated at least most of the things I wrote last month lol. so I'm in the middle of rewriting this and I can say that I'm making better progress with this so far.

— Carousel is still on rewriting process, with its weekly update continuing on Wattpad starting this month.

— The Bedroom Hymns is also on progress. I can only write for an hour or two each day due to my condition, so progress has been slow, but we're getting somewhere. I think I can release the new chapter right after Nefarious is released.

— Ever A Never After is continuing. Again, it's a slow progress, and I might release it sooner on Wattpad as small chapters if it comes down to it.

— I have a surprise project to release soon. I'm not sure when it's coming, but I'll be announcing it when I'm ready :)

That's all for now. Thank you for your patience and for making things fun for me back in October that you've given my a lot of motivation to write some new fics. I have a couple of messages waiting for me in my inbox which I'll be answering as soon as I'm available (again).

Be back soon! Take care, lovelies <333

xoxo, Dia

#psa #💌 from dia

46 notes · View notes

hearts4golbach · 9 months ago

Text

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

chapter 13.

it was another night in the cafe, the same routine seemed to be never ending. as i scrubbed the counter down after spilling my own drink, i thought about Johnnie. i didn't want to have my hopes up that he'd continue to come and see me every night, so i had myself convinced i'd only see him a couple times this week, if even at all. i scrubbed the counter until it sparkled, wanting to keep myself busy with anything i could. if Johnnie was up, he would've texted me. and if he is up and didn't, then that's fine. i kept telling myself the same thing to try and quiet my mind, but i gave in and just put in one of my headphones.

it was around 11 pm when a trio of girls stumbled into the cafe. 2 of them were very obviously under the influence while the other must've been the designated driver because she had a miserable look on her face. the sober girl shooed them off, telling them to go sit somewhere. she walked up to me with an exasperated smile. "you seem like you're having a great night." i say sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood.

she sighed, "yeah. so sorry if they cause any trouble." she says shyly.

"all good, what can i get for you?" the bell on the door rings as someone else walks in. i didn't glance over while i was listening to her order. whenever she was finished ordering snacks for her friends, she thanked me and went to sit with them.

johnnie walked up after her with a tired smile. "hey."

i tilted my head and smiled softly. "why don't you take melatonin or something? your sleep schedule must be shit if you come and see me every night." i tease

"i mean, it's worth it. in the day you're usually asleep." i looked at him, confused, "so i can't see you." he explained further, lightly laughing.

"well, i'm so glad you come see me so often," i smile, but my mood immediately flipped as someone else walked in. a sweet looking old lady stood behind johnnie in the line. "you ordering anything?"

"probably not tonight. i just planned on seeing if i could talk to you for a bit." he moved out of the way and went to sit at his usual table. after i served this customer, i planned on going to sit with him.

"hello, ma'am. what can i get for you?" i repeated the words i had at least a hundred times in the past month. as she went through her order, i took a couple glances around the cafe. johnnie sat on his phone, leaving back in the chair lazily. meanwhile, one of the intoxicated girls was really eyeing him. it looked as if she was undressing him with her eyes, and i hated it. i watched as she turned to her friend and whispered before smiling and blushing and looking back at him. i think i visibly rolled my eyes.

"that'll be all!" her bottom lip slightly quivered as she smiled.

"i'll have that right out for you." i walked over to our case of pastries, occasionally taking glances back at the girl. she seemed to be scheming something. i collected her two cheese danishes before going off to make her vanilla latte. i set her things on the counter in front of where she was standing before telling her the total. she paid and went on her merry way.

i exited from behind the counter and sat across from johnnie. whenever he realized i was done, he shut off his and fixed his posture to face me correctly. "seems like a busy ass night."

"yeah, i mean, luckily i get off at, like, 3." which was about 3 hours before the day shift started. johnnie nodded. i watched as the same girl walked up behind johnnie. she had long, red, pin straight hair and the cutest freckles i had ever seen, which almost made me mad. she was beautiful, and if she was about to hit on johnnie, i didn't stand a chance compared.

she tapped on his shoulder while staring me dead in the eyes. " hi, i'm amelia." she smiled sweetly, sticking out her hand to johnnie.

"hi," johnnie replied, sounding confused but not taking her hand. him not taking her hand made me want to smile, but it was such a small gesture, i convinced myself it was nothing.

she cleared her throat as she put her hand down. "well, i think you're really cute," she blushed, "can i get your number?" her hand grazed his shoulder.

he slightly furrowed his eyebrows, glancing towards me before turning back to her. "i'm not looking for a relationship right now, no thanks." he said nonchalantly before turning back to me. she opened her mouth to say something but ultimately walked back to her seat without saying a word. "did i ever get your tiktok? i wanna send you shit." he immediately changed the subject.

"no, one sec." i pulled up tiktok and showed him my username. as he was looking me up, o began to spam text jake.

me: jake

me: jakeee

me: jake!!!

and so on for at least 30 seconds before he texted me back.

jake: whaaat why can't i sleep D:

me: because this girl was tryna get his number but he said he's not looking for a relationship is that true???

jake: i can't say much but that is not the case for that inbred

me: well damn good but what 😭

jake: is that it

jake: can i sleep now 🙃

me: yes get your beauty sleep cause you need it lol

jake: girl have you seen me?? gn

me: lol night

i turned off my phone and looked at johnnie, feeling much better. "you find it?"

"damn, sorry, i'm slow." he smiled awkwardly, a blush growing on his face. i smiled back.

#fanfiction #fanfic #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #jake webber #johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie guilbert x reader #cafe aesthetic #cafe #tara yummy

92 notes · View notes

lemoncrushh · 7 months ago

Text

Write You A Song - Sneak Peek

COMING SOON...

Summary: Harry Styles is just a regular guy with a regular job. A little dispirited and down on love, he finds comfort in the small things like the moon, his morning coffee, and stopping at the local bodega. When the cute girl who works behind the counter starts to inspire his poetry and songwriting, he soon grasps a new outlook on life, and eventually finds a way to open his heart again.

Based on this request from @fkinavocado.

A/N: This will be a series, though I'm not sure yet how many parts. Probably not a long one though, but definitely more than just a few chapters. This is an AU obviously, with an OC. This will be lhh, sometimes beardrry, sometimes with glasses, sometimes with a man bun :). He also smokes, at least at the beginning, so just wanted to put that out there in case that's a dealbreaker for you. If this sounds like something you'd like to read as I post, please let me know and I'll add you to a taglist.

SNEAK PEEK

Caught up in his own thoughts, he almost didn’t see her until he was at arm’s length. She sat alone at the bus stop, the pitiful light barely giving enough glow for her to read the book in her lap.

He had seen her before. Many times in fact, though he did not know her name. She worked at the bodega near his building, next to the bus stop there. He wondered what she was doing on this side of town. Quickly putting out his cigarette, he approached her.

“Hello,” he said flatly as he took a seat next to her on the bench.

The girl gave a short nod and a mumbled hi before actually looking up from her book. When she did, her eyes blinked, and Harry caught the corners of her mouth curve upwards. “Oh, hey.”

Harry started to open his mouth again when the girl quickly returned to her book. Clearing his throat, Harry shoved his hands into his coat pockets. He considered asking her what she was reading, but decided against it. Some people don’t enjoy small talk, himself included.

Soon, the bus arrived and Harry climbed on after the girl, taking the seat across from her. At this time of night, the buses were fairly empty. He spotted a young couple a few rows ahead, and two more passengers near the back. On evenings like this when he closed the shop, it was rare to see more people than that.

He wondered what the girl was doing out this late. Surely she wasn’t going to the bodega. It was much too dangerous for a young woman to work such hours. Perhaps she was going to visit a friend, or a boyfriend. Or maybe she was returning home from doing so. That was probably it.

Harry pulled out a small notepad he kept in his inside coat pocket, along with a pen. He began to jot down a few words that described the moment, all the while sneaking glances over at the girl. She was still very content reading her book. He was just about to get up the nerve to ask what was so intriguing when the bus came to a halt. Nearly smacking his head against the seat in front of him, he cursed under his breath, returning the pen and notebook to his pocket. Then just as he was about to rise from his seat, the girl grabbed her backpack and stood in the aisle. Harry followed her down the bus steps and onto the curb. When he saw her heading for the bodega, he hurriedly caught up with her.

“You work tonight?” he asked, his words hanging in mid-air like his breath.

“What?” she turned, startled. “Oh. Yeah, I do.”

“That’s not right,” Harry frowned.

“Excuse me?” she chuckled.

“I mean…it’s late...”

“And that’s when the crazies come out?” she finished, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Well…” Harry hesitated. “Yeah. It’s kinda dangerous, don’t you think?”

“It can be,” she sighed. Harry noted the way she shifted her weight to the other hip. “But…I’ve worked here long enough that Manuel trusts me. And I’ve been trained on what to do in dangerous situations.”

Harry couldn’t help but cringe. He didn’t like this one bit. “Is anyone else working with you?”

“Not yet. Manuel leaves when I go in, but Jared comes in at midnight.”

As the girl started again for the store, Harry instinctively walked beside her, grabbing the door before she could.

“Thanks, Harry, for your concern,” she smiled. “But I’m a big girl. I’ll be okay.”

Stepping into the bodega, she made a beeline for the back of the store. Harry heard her call out to Manuel that she had to use the ladies’ really bad, but would be right there. Gazing at the display of Valentine’s cards and heart-shaped candy boxes, Harry groaned.

He thought about sticking around to make sure she was okay, but when he paid for a pack of gum and she still wasn’t back, he decided to leave. He didn’t think loitering was wise with the manager giving him the eye.

When he turned the corner to enter his apartment building, Harry stopped, a notion finally dawning on him. She’d called him Harry. How did she know his name, but he didn’t know hers?

MASTERLIST

82 notes · View notes

cas-backwards-tie · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter Five: Threatened to Reset

Heiress of Gotham

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: With the family's help everything is planned for the big move. A trip to Bludhaven to organize, pack, and move all your belongings leaves the past to be drug up. How will they react to your home? Will any secrets be found? Will emotions rise? Will your past be disclosed? It's all up to you... and maybe a crime boss and his goons.

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: The usual Banter and Bickering, Cursing, Knives, Threatening, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Arguing, Fighting, Shame, Guilt, Fight or Flight.

Mentions of: Sex Trafficking, Criminal Activities, Police, Drug Busts, Prostitution, Assassins.

A/N: There's a lot of information to digest in the chapter, and really what was meant to be one chapters I actually am going to have to split up in order to make them manageable. It's been awhile, and while I'm still trying to figure out how to manage my life in the sense of hobbies, work, my health, a possible second job, and extracurriculars, I request you all be patient with me. I definitely do have more in store, yet for now this chapter isn't proofread (at least the beginning and end) I just need to get this one out.

Having discussed tomorrow’s events as a group at dinner, your Father let you lead the charge in what would happen with your apartment’s belongings. Decided on packing everything up and either donating the things you don’t need, storing the important things, and transporting the things you do need, it was simple enough. Nothing a little packing tape and rounds of boxes won’t fix.

Starting the day with a hearty breakfast from Alfred, you all packed into a minivan you didn't know or think the Bruce Wayne would ever own, let alone have anything to do with. Nevertheless, the ride was fairly timely to get to your old apartment building. Saying hello to the few neighbors coming in and out who you recognized and knew, you led the gang up the seven flights and begrudgingly let them inside. You knew sooner or later they'd find out where and how you lived. It certainly isn't as nice as Wayne Manor, but of course, what else would you expect?

Assigning everyone to different spots and or groups of items in the apartment, you really feel like they went for overkill. A welcoming and slightly overwhelming sense of love blossoms in your chest as they really didn't all need to help, but everyone insisted on coming anyway. Even Tim's girlfriend, Stephanie. How nice, you think, for someone to actually care that much to go out of their way. Family almost congesting the apartment, you focus on your room and belongings. The fact that Damian hasn't even made any rude remarks (that you know of) is surprising in itself.

After almost everything is packed away, it's a few hours past noon, and Alfred is tired. Damian insists he's spent enough time in this 'hellhole' and almost demands that Alfred take him home. With the time having gotten away from you and some of the others, it seems to no one's surprise that Tim and Stephanie also apologetically explain their need to leave. They have homework they need to get done; and with that, Alfred agrees that it might be best to head back to the Manor with everyone who needs to leave. Dick lives in Bludhaven, so there's no surprise he'd stay. And while Jason has his motorcycle, coming from his own apartment, he says he doesn't mind staying until it's all finished. Bruce also having come separately after checking in at work, explains that the two of you can drive back together once everything's done. It'd been lucky enough that he'd brought his car, and not one of the nicer ones, either.

Searching all the nearby boxes, you don’t find it. It’s nowhere to be seen, and if it’s not here then that can only mean one thing: They took it. Opening up the box near the kitchen you retrieve a butcher’s knife. Hand gripping the handle tightly you storm to the front door and lock it.

“Woah, woah- what’s going on?” Jason asks, hands raising in concern as he stops boxing the books that’d been on the nearby shelf.

With a tense look in his eyes, you adjust the knife in your palm, getting a better and more sturdy grip on it. Other hand rising to your mouth you place your pointer finger before your lips. A tacit command of ‘silence’. Jason’s fear had drawn the attention of the other two, though you ignore them as you quickly storm through the living room and down the hall.

Eyes flitting back and forth out the window, up and down the fire escape you quickly return with the same fervor you’d previously held. “Why do you have a knife?” Dick questions.

Back at the front door, you press your ear to it and listen to the hallway, hoping that if anyone were to come, you’d hear them and be ready. In the attempt of a raid via bursting through the door, at least you’ll be the first one in the line of fire, able to protect everyone. No sound so far; backing from the door slowly, you turn toward the men. While the worst case scenario always pops into your mind first, you’re not oblivious to the measly chance this could simply chalk up to coincidence. Holding out the knife, you point to each man in the room as your gaze shifts between them.

“Look. There was a gun in there last time we were here. It’s always there. If none of you have seen it, let alone packed it away… then we have a big problem,” you reveal. Knife pointed in the direction of the safe that's now open within a drawer of the tv stand, it's clear that everything else has been packed away.

Between the couch and television diagonally to your left stands Dick. Hands raised, he holds a stoic expression as he stands closest to the safe. His blue eyes flit to Jason. Knife shifting toward him, he too stands with his hands by his waist, palms facing you. Eyes filled with confusion and concern, he shifts his weight as he stands across the room in the corner between the kitchen's counter and the opening to the hallway. His green eyes shift to Bruce.

Before you can even turn the knife on the man closest to you, diagonally standing in the kitchen opening to your right, someone speaks up. “I took it,” Jason announces. All eyes dart to him and you watch as he slowly starts to reach around his back towards his waistband. Out of the corner of your eye you spot Bruce move.

“Don’t!” You warn, stepping back and pointing the knife at him. He’s not going to disarm you. Eyes back on Jason, you motion with the knife for him to place the produced gun onto the table between you two. Gun dangling from his fingers, he doesn’t move, so you gesture again with more of a ferocity this time. “Put it on the table.” It’s a command, not a request.

He slides it across the table. Three steps close the distance between you and the item. Though Bruce could easily do something behind your back, just out of your peripheral vision now, you focus on the task at hand. One look at the gun has you skeptical; face tense, you use the knife to turn the gun around. The examination is short. One flip of the gun onto its other side and a quick lift into your hands to make sure the safety is on, you release the bullet cartridge to find that one bullet is missing. With a click of the cartridge locking back into place, you toss it back onto the table.

Storming back to the door where you're at a far enough distance from all of them, your forearms rest against the splintering wood, face buried within them for a moment to gather yourself. Slowly turning back toward the men, but more specifically Jason, you glare daggers at him. “Why didn’t you just tell me you had the gun when I first mentioned it missing,” not waiting for an answer, your head tilts a bit as you don’t play his game. “Nevertheless, did you really think I’d be stupid enough to not recognize that that’s an entirely different gun? So what’s your game?”

Silence lingers. Jason knows he’s fucked, and they all know it too. Why did he think she’d fall for that? Better yet, why wouldn’t she?!It was worth a shot, sure, but the real gun is still back at the Batcave. However, she can’t know that. “There’s no game,” Bruce says your name, a sincere look in his eyes.

“I wasn’t asking you,” you bark, knife turning on him as he tries again to take a step closer. His hands are still raised in an attempt to de-escalate the situation.

The silence is expected, however, the smile that creepily inches across your lips is not. A shift of the knife in your palm has you gripping the handle in an underhanded approach, ready to stab, rather than slice. “Ha,” you scoff, “I knew it… too good to be true. I can respect the lengths he’ll go to play his little games, but this is just beyond fucked. A ploy to what? Fuck with me, pretend to be my family, and now what? Kill me? I knew it. After yesterday, I just knew it was coming.”

“What are you talking about?” Jason asks incredulously, a hint of anger and fear within his tone.

“Who?” Dick asks coldly, taking a step closer.

“Antonio Marin?” Bruce asks. Eyes darting to meet his, you shift the knife in your palm again to get a better grip on it.

“Oh, you wanna play it this way? Act all fucking coy and innocent now?” Gears shifting, you eye the other two men. “Unless he’s just another victim to his plan, I don’t buy it. Richest man in the world and he’s a good guy? Yeah? No.”

“Should’ve known,” you sigh, shaking your head. “BPD? Too obvious.” With a sad smile and tears beginning to threaten your eyes, you chuckle. “Well if he wants me, then go ahead. I’ve got nothing left. If I’m the last piece to the puzzle then do it. Kill me. It’s three to one, I know you’ve got a gun and more than enough bullets to take me.” You thump your chest with your free hand, open, ready to accept your fate. “Do it! Shoot me, Jason. Right now! Kill me.”

As if the reality of the situation suddenly dawns on you, fear readily replaces the confidence you’d just boasted. Backing up against the door you shift the knife in your hand to a stabbing position again, as you continue to shift it, unsure which approach will be best in your defense. Suddenly you're terrified of what’s to come. “No… no. Three big men on one teenage girl?” The way Jason had hesitated, it’s apparent. “I knew he was expanding the business, but like this? NO.” Chest heaving with rapid breaths, you’re suddenly running on pure adrenaline. Panic sets in as you know what the man's got planned for you. “If you want me then I’m not going down alone. I’ll kill myself before I let that happen to me- and if that doesn’t work then I’ll mangle myself SO badly that nobody will buy me,” you threaten, voice deepening in a terrifyingly chilling way.

Placing the knife against your neck, you’re more than ready to take yourself off the table. You won’t let that happen to yourself. You won’t let anyone take advantage of you that way. A punishment worse than death is something you're not willing to participate in, nor offer.

Dick calls your name in a calm tone, one far too calm for this situation. “This isn’t any ploy, or game. We don’t work for anyone. If you think someone’s after you, you need to tell us. We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on.”

“Oh,” you relinquish too easily, knife falling back to your side. Turning to face the door your eyes settle against it for a moment before spinning back to face the man. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that Officer Grayson from the BPD was here! I’ll just tell you everything so you can either arrest me or take me out on his behalf!” With a step toward him, you raise the knife by your side again. “Do you really think I’m that stupid, Grayson? That I wouldn’t realize you’d try to get a confession out of me, record this- have them take a voice memo? This isn’t my first rodeo.”

"It's not like that. We're just trying to help! You can't seriously believe this is all some conspiracy against you," Dick argues. His voice is still calm, and while the raised brow elicits a begrudging irk and prick of paranoia in your mind, his words do nothing but continue to cause the gears to mentally turn. "If someone wanted to take you out there would've been easier methods. You would've been dead weeks ago."

A wry chuckle leaves your lips, a knowing smile still set on your features as you two stand off with one another. "Sure... if it was anyone else. Yet that's not how he plays his game and you know it."

"You still think I'm corrupt?" Dick asks, shifting his weight to lean into his hip on one side.

"How could you not be?! Look at me and tell me that you're not! That you don't know about Perdy Chapman, or any of the sabotage the BPD plays," you demand.

"I know about the sabotage. I don't know about Perdy Chapman, but if you know something," he recites your name, "you have to tell us. I can't do anything or help anyone if everyone's keeping secrets."

"What? So this is all a loyalty test? An attempt to get me to come back? There's no way he's that desperate."

"Come back? You worked for Antonio Marin?" Bruce pipes up, concerned blue eyes turning on you as he shifts his gaze between you and Dick. Hands still up in surrender, he takes a step towards you.

"Quit fucking with me! If this is because he thinks I'll rat, I won't! I'm not a fucking rat. We got out, we left! We don't owe him anything!"

"If you know where he is you need to tell us," Jason voices his concern, also taking a step closer. "No one is taking you back, no one is gonna hurt you. I'll be damned before that happens." Jason whispers your name, garnering your attention as he gives you a serious look, "If you think he's after you, we need to know. We can't help you if we don't know what's going on."

With a stomp and a slash of the knife by your side as you realize they're right, you won't do this without a stipulation. "Fine! But... I can't go to the cops. I can't... file a report. I can't do anything. Promise me-" you respond, voice starting off confident until his falls short of a whisper. Jason nods, starting to close the space as he pulls out the last chair remaining at the dinner table.

"No cops, you got it. Just... tell us what happened, what's going on," Jason concedes, hand settled on the back of the chair.

As you shake your head in decline toward the chair, Jason easily swivels it around and sits on it backwards, attention on you. As you place the knife on the side table by the front door, you start to pace. "I... don't know where to start," you voice your thoughts.

"From the beginning," Dick encourages, voice gentle as he realizes Jason has made progress by building a rapport. Something he hadn't realized he could be making more of an effort towards, he supposes. Even if he already feels like he's done more than he can for the girl.

As the Detective sits on the back of the couch and Bruce leans against the wall, your eyes can't help but find his... your Father's. "I... I can't-" you realize. Steps coming to a halt, you find yourself face to face with the last person in your life who you feel like you can't lose. The only person you need to impress, to suck up to.

"This is important," Bruce says your name, head tilting further downward as he offers a more straight-on look with your height differences, not to mention the sympathetic look that crosses his features.

Eyes falling to the floor, you shake your head. "I can't. I don't want you to look at me differently, and I know you will. There's no way you can't." It's a warning, a vague divulgence on the subject matter. There's no way this conversation can happen without someone's impression being changed or shifted. It's just not possible.

"That won't happen," Bruce reassures.

"There's no way it can't happen. You don't know!" You argue, hands gesticulating the emphasis of your seriousness.

"This is your safety we're talking about," Jason reminds.

"We all have pasts," Dick reiterates your name, "we've all done things. It won't change anything."

"I promise," Bruce adds on, following up with Dick's words. Bending to be on your level, he holds out his pinky, and while part of you hesitates, the seriousness in his eyes begs for a piece of trust. An inkling of hope, sincerity, vulnerability, trust. Wrapping your much smaller pinky around his, you shake on it.

As he lets go and returns to leaning against the wall, they all sit in anticipation, waiting for you to speak. "From the beginning?" You question.

"From the beginning," Dick echoes again, trying his hardest to be patient. With a tacit gesture of his hand, he guides you to sit on the couch cushions. Despite his offer, you choose to sit on the floor in front of the couch, back leant up against it as Dick chooses to sit in the armchair to the left of it. Jason comes closer, perching himself on the edge of the tv stand, while Bruce lingers by the back of the couch to your right, still in your periphery.

"It... all started about, I don't know, two years ago?" Jason nods in encouragement, a sign for you to keep going. "I don't- I don't know exactly when, I can't really place a time or say because I didn't know- I didn't- I never thought- I mean," the words tumble from your lips as your thoughts begin to race with the memories. Heart beating faster, there was never a definitive point in time you could place. "He just... started coming over. After-" swallowing the thick lump that forms in your throat, the faint burning sensation of tears threatening to start welling up becomes real. "-Mom got laid off."

"Mhm," Dick hums, hands clasping in his lap as he expresses the fact that he's listening.

"Everyone knew who he was. We all do, but of course, you're nice to people you don't necessarily know. You don't wanna start any problems. I guess Mama met him one night when she was out with my Tia. He said he could get her job back, that he could help her make money again, that we wouldn't have to move, to get evicted. He'd get her job back. So he did. She didn't ask, she didn't even want her job back after everything they said and did to her, firing her just because of her skin- but... he did it anyways. He got her job back at the hospital and even got her a promotion. How? I never asked, but if you know Marin, then I guess you can imagine."

"Then he told her she owed him," Bruce speaks up as you take a breath. His tone is definitive, certain, as if he knows. A shake of your head lets him know he's wrong.

"Of course, she went back to see him at the same bar. She thanked him, we all did... but that wasn't the end of it. He said if she ever wanted anything more, a side job, extra money, anything else, that he could give her that. That all she need do is ask." A sigh escapes your lips and you subtly shake your head again. you know you'll have to tell them. It'll get there eventually, yet there's no way of knowing how they'll react. "They became friends. I always thought he liked her, that's why he was so nice."

"But he showed his true colors, didn't he?" Jason comments, a dangerous and almost vengeful tone in his voice as he leans forward so his elbows rest on his knees. His hands curl in and out of fists as he listens.

"No... he was... just nice." Finally looking up to meet their eyes, you gauge the room. Each man has a different expression on his face, looks of curiosity, intrigue, suspicion, and anger all around. "He'd be at the parties, come over, take us out, have a drink. He became a part of the family, at least... for a while. I think it all changed when Mama said no to him. He asked her out, and she finally understood why he'd been so nice to her. Yet, that didn't change anything. Being friends, he was still coming around. Maybe he was doing more, becoming more distant, but not much changed. He kept offering, and offering, and eventually I think she figured if she had control, and it was something he'd offer, then how could it hurt? It was only after that year and once the gifts died down that, well..."

"What?" Jason raises his eyes again to meet yours as he'd been mulling over his own thoughts for a moment, head in hands. A chuckle shakes his chest subtly as his hands shoot out in gesticulation. "You can't just say 'after that, well...' and not finish the story!"

"Come on, Jase-" Bruce gently reprimands with a look.

"It's clear there's more," Dick interrupts his Father to address you, still in the position he'd been in. Eyes intent on you as he waits for an answer, a scowl on his lips.

"I finally asked him if there was any way I could do something. Something small to make money; like mow someone's lawn, pet-sitting, house-sitting... things like that." Eyes falling to the pilled carpet by your sock-clad feet, you pick at the fluffy brown fabric. "I had school. My mom would hate me if she knew I asked him, but everyone else was getting money, and I figured if he was like my Uncle or Dad it's normal to ask for those things... I think." Hair falling over your shoulders, it masks your face as you rush to get the rest of the story out.

"He... had me do jobs for him. It was easy. Deliver presents, bouquets, envelopes, packages, things like that. No problem, lots of people do that, right? But I was making at least a hundred every week, if not more, and, and I didn't think about it. It was easy money! I could buy whatever I wanted, I could save, I could spoil my friends, my mom... I never thought about it until I... got curious." Words trailing off, you risk a glance up at Dick. Tucking your bangs behind your ear, his expression is immovable. He's stoic; a pickup of heartrate leaves you anxious as you haven't been able to easily read him like many of the others.

The movement of Jason's lips slowly opening garners your attention, and as his eyes widen you quickly duck your head back down again. "You were..." he tests the waters.

"So one day I decided to stay. They never opened their packages in my vicinity. Never opened the presents, envelopes, packages, or undid the bouquet. It didn't feel right. I haven't gotten many presents in my life, but I'd think if I got a big one like those, I'd open it right away... see what it is." Continuing with your story, you didn't give Jason even half a fraction of time to finish his thoughts. "So I delivered the package like normal, watched them count out the money and hand it over before I was on my way. Around the corner, I was halfway down the block when I realized I could probably wait it out, hide somewhere across the street and watch them from one of the store windows. They wouldn't notice. I could just put on my hood, if anything, and... well, then it-" eyes shifting back up to Dick, you don't look away this time, "-it happened."

"I hadn't realized it but parked on the opposite side of the road and right by me out of sight from where I'd come there were cop cars parked. Cops lined up with their guns pulled, batons and riot shields ready. I froze..." At this moment it seems like the gears in Dick's mind are finally starting to turn and place things together. "I thought I was caught, for something I only suspected, but... within seconds the cops were ushering me out of the area while the second team were busting the gang of boys I'd come from for having drugs."

"They were using you," Bruce states, an air of sympathy encased in his word choice.

"You were a mule f-" Jason affirms.

"-But that wasn't the end of it," Dick says confidently, his dark blue eyes still set on you, unmoving, a quirked brow joining his visage. "You said you're out. So if that's true then how'd that happen?" He asks, finally shifting in his seat as his head slightly tilts. It's almost as if he's testing you. "Exactly," he clarifies.

"Once I realized what was happening I ran home. I-" jaw clenching, your eyebrows furrow as you don't want to have to admit this. Especially not when Dick looks so confident and arrogant. You know he'd seen you that day, just like you knew you'd seen him. A silent staring match follows,a few seconds, before your resolve crumbles upon the memories. "I told my mom. I was crying, and she was shocked and surprised and angry and mad and I didn't know what to do! I didn't know where to go or who to tell, and I knew she'd be mad but she said she wasn't mad at me, but at him and that it was okay because she was gonna get us out of it. We met up with Anto- with- with Marin," you correct yourself. "We demanded out, and... he let us go. He said we were free to go as long as we didn't say or do anything that went against him. My mom didn't want us involved with him anymore."

"He just 'let you go'?" Dick reiterates.

"Yes. That's it," you reveal, a shrug following as you don't bother to make eye contact. "Now you know!" The revelation leaves you upset and unaware of anyone else's responses. You just know that this changes everything, now that they know... they know that you're a bad person. You dealt drugs. You worked for a mobster. A gangster, a criminal; you stocked up drug money, saving it, keeping it. Blood money, one could even claim in earnest... and you couldn't argue with them.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980 , @theroyalmanatee , @azazel-nyx , @nightrose-18 , @vanessa-boo , @ih4temy5elfs0b4d , @agent-nobody-knows , @scarlett13 , @hoeinthehouse

220 notes · View notes

themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 4 days ago

Text

In Love and War (9)

Summary: The completion of the wards falls on an anniversary Warlord!Rhys can't forget.

Content Warnings: Mentions of Death/Infant Loss; Depression; Mentions of Drinking.

Author's Note: Brought the story back just to fill it with angst, I'm so sorry!

Previous Chapter/ Masterlist

---------

Rhys is gone by morning, his side of the mat cold. My head feels like it’s full of cotton; mouth full of sand. My bones ache, most of all my hands, it’s an effort to stretch out my fingers without feeling like my skin might tear right off the bone.

At least I haven’t covered the tent in vines while I slept.

There’s a waterskin and some rations left beside the mat for me, after a couple minutes of trying to rub the stiffness from my fingers, I sit up and scarf it down like I haven’t seen a meal in a week. My stomach certainly rumbles like it. I wonder if an increased appetite is a side effect of expelling so much power?

Once I’m finished, I slip back into my armor, wincing at the smell that clings to the leather. I need a shower, desperately! We’re supposed to be meeting up with Cassian’s group today, hopefully that means we’ll return to the valley soon and I can find some place to get clean.

By the time I’ve finished with the laces, Azriel’s poking his head in the tent and giving me a five minute warning before camp starts to move. He doesn’t offer up any answers as to where Rhys is before disappearing again.

Hoping the minatiny of this familiar task will help lessen the tension in my muscles, I make quick work of tearing down the tent and getting it all rolled up to leave. My head still feels terribly foggy, but I suppose I could still feel like I was going to tear out of my skin, so I’ll take it as a win.

Azriel helps me get the supplies mounted onto Rhys’s horse, but the warlord still doesn’t show himself until right before we leave. He wears his cowl again, the stars covering his eyes, the heavy fabric shielding his wings from the cold mountain air. His gloved hands grab my hips and lift me into the saddle and he swings silently into his seat behind me without so much as a hello.

I try to not let the silence get to me, but worry worms its way into my chest the longer we go without speaking. Had I done something wrong yesterday? Was he irritated with how slow my progress has been? He seemed pleased last night, had I misinterpreted it?

His powers seem… dull today. The starlight not so bright, his shadows sluggish as he stitches the wards back together. His body is heavy against my back, like he’s having a hard time holding himself upright.

“Are you ok?” It takes a couple hours for me to work up the courage to ask.

He nuzzles his cowl covered head against my neck. “I’m all right.”

“You’re quiet today,” I say gently.

“Just a little tired,” he assures.

“Did you not sleep?” I was so exhausted last night I hadn’t been aware enough to see if he’d fallen asleep with me. He’d been so exhausted when we’d made it back to camp I’d just assumed he was out as fast as I was.

“I’ll sleep when this is done,” he replies.

My chest aches at the thought of him being up all night, tying these wards back together after spending all day babysitting me and my errant powers. “You need to rest too.”

He kisses my temple, his lips like ice against my skin. “I’ll be alright.”

A few more minutes of silence stretch out between us, the only sound the horse’s hooves against the rocks and boisterous conversations of the men behind us. They’re in good spirits today, making bets on whether or not we beat Cassian around the mountain. Rhys makes no attempt to join the conversation, his focus still on the wards.

I see no sight of the other group ahead of us, just lots and lots of mountain, and some dark clouds ahead of us. We might meet Cassian as the storm arrives to meet us. I shiver at the thought of what might have happened to me if I was still out alone in that kind of weather. It’s almost cold enough to snow, if I had still been looking for game in that poor excuse for clothes, no real shelter to be had, I’d be dead. It still hits me like a slap to think that Tam left me out here, knowing I could die, knowing I wasn’t prepared to make it on my own.

“How do you feel today?” It’s not the first time I wonder if he can hear my thoughts somehow. He always seems to know when they turn to Tamlin.

“My head feels like it’s full of cotton,” I say truthfully. “But it is better than yesterday.”

He twists to find the waterskin and passes it to me. “It might feel like that for a while.”

I subconsciously bring my fingers up to rub my temples. “Suppose it’s better than clawing at my skin all day.”

“It will help if you keep practicing,” he assures. “The more you get comfortable with it, the less energy you will have to put in expelling it. It will come out naturally and it will hurt less.”

I think the bones in my fingers might snap in half if I keep trying to summon claws after yesterday.

He stops warding long enough to cup my hands together in my lap. “Just practice making those flowers, like last night. No shapeshifting on Midnight, he doesn’t like having fangs near his neck.”

“Your horse’s name is Midnight?” I can’t help the laugh that slips out of me. Death Incarnate rides a horse that sounds like it got its name from a child! It’s so very un-Warlord like of him that I can’t help but smile.

“He was born at Midnight, so his name is Midnight,” Rhys counters and Midnight huffs in what sounds like agreement.

“Oh of course, I was just expecting something… more intimidating, I guess.”

Midnight shakes his mane in a way that looks to me like I’ve insulted him and I run an apologetic hand over his silk smooth neck.

“It’s intimidating,” Rhys insists.

“It’s cute,” I amend.

He huffs as he leans his chin down against my shoulder, hand leaving mine to resume his stitching. “I was ten, it sounded cool to a ten year old.”

I try to picture a scruffy haired ten year old Rhys, but come up empty. “Even cuter!”

“Hush, you’ll ruin my reputation,” he warns, nipping playfully at the juncture of my throat and shoulder.

“Your reputation is safe with me,” I swear.

He chuckles at that, but as my focus shifts to practicing like he suggested, he once again slips back into silence. His shadows drift lazily over my arms and wrists as I practice, as if watching my progress. Sometimes they brush soothingly over my shaking wrists, or rub circles into my palms when the tension becomes too much, but Rhys says nothing for hours.

The storm on the horizon continues to drift closer, the temperature dropping the further into the mountains we go. When I start to shiver, he draws his cloak around the two of us, and tucks himself a little tighter around me to share the blissful warmth of his body heat, but even then he says nothing.

Worry once again worms its way into my chest. Is he hurt? Did I do something wrong yesterday? Did he somehow figure out what I’d done?

I worry my lower lip between my teeth to avoid him seeing me wringing my hands the longer this drags on. We don’t stop for lunch, only for a brief period to let the horses drink from a small stream, and not even long enough for us to dismount and stretch our legs. It’s a quick drink and then we’re right back to it. The men seem pleased with this, the less stops mean the sooner we reach the rendezvous point and beat Cassian. If any of them think something is amiss with Rhys, they don’t voice it.

It comes to a point that I try to catch Azriel’s eye to see if the other male notices anything off with his warlord, but Rhys keeps us steadily ahead of the others, leading the way into the coming storm.

The wind beats relentlessly at us now, I have to shield my eyes by tucking my head inside Rhy’s cloak. Still, Rhys doesn’t slow, even if I hear the heavy rasp of his breathing beneath his chestplate the harder he pushes.

By nightfall, lightning streaks across the sky in angry slashes, thunder echoing off the mountain tops. I can smell the rain on the wind, though trouble finds us first when a lightning strike hits the side of the mountain and a rush of boulders and debris come raining down on our heads.

Rhys’s magic flares in a protective shield above our heads, sheltering us from the worst of it, and once he’s sure everyone is unscathed, he presses on.

Still, none of the men protest. Not even when the rain finally comes. It beats down on us like thousands of icy needles, pelting relentlessly against every bit of exposed skin it can find. Rhys’ cloak protects us from the worst of it, but even for all its magic properties, it can’t keep the rain from sliding down into our boots.

I try not to complain. I’ve been through worse. But my teeth are chattering and I’ve done my best to curl up into his chest to try and preserve any bit of body heat I might have left. “Rhys, are we going to stop soon?”

I’m not sure at first that he can hear me over the rain, but his body shifts, an arm wrapping around my waist and then Midnight is moving faster, uphill. A few minutes later, the rain stops. Well, not stops, I can still hear it, but it no longer beats against us.

He slides off the horse and I hear the wet thwack of his boots against stone before he hauls me down onto the ground next to him. I don’t know how he’s not shivering, he’s as soaked as I am.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, pressing a damp kiss to my forehead. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

We’re in a large cave carved into the mountain. It’s cold and damp and so dark I can barely see, but it’s not raining on us any longer so I’ll take it. The rest of the men file in behind us, proving the size is bigger than I can make out in the dark.

“Az, get a fire going,” Rhys orders.

“This the spot we’re meeting the others?” One of the men asks.

“It’s up the ridge,” Rhys returns as he pulls off his gloves and shoves them in his pocket so he can help rub some warmth back into my fingers. “I’ll finish it in a moment.”

He brings my hands up to his lips and as Azriel gets a fire going with some debris littering the cave, I get the first real look of him all day. “I’m sorry, Darling,” his eyes are rimmed with dark circles and bloodshot, face pale. “I’m sorry.” He keeps repeating it even as he kisses my knuckles, more like he’s talking to himself than me and my chest cracks open a little more.

“It’s ok,” my teeth are still chattering.

Some of the men find the wood they’ve kept wrapped and dry and get the fire growing, but Rhys pulls me farther into the dark, deft fingers unlacing my chestpiece, the leather sticking to my damp skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again and even though he’s still brushing his lips against my forehead while he works, I don’t feel like he’s seeing me at all. He’s far, far away from me, body moving on instinct and I reach out to touch his face.

“Hey, I’m ok,” I promise.

But he won’t stop moving, not until he’s completely stripped me of all my wet clothes and found something dry to slip me into in his pack. They’re all way too big for me, but they're dry and I can’t make any complaints about it.

“Was distracted,” he mutters to himself, hands pulling my damp hair off my neck and into a swift braid. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m ok, Rhys,” I assure. Some warmth already returning to my stiff limbs.

He still doesn’t hear me as he leads me back over to where a roaring fire now blooms in the heart of the cave. A few of the men stand around it, warming their hands, but the rest remain dutifully near their horses, waiting.

Rhys throws a blanket around my shoulders as he helps me sit like I’m incapable of doing it on my own. At least all the supplies had been covered in waterproofing before we set out. Nothing has been ruined. Anything too soaked to be of use gets left draped over some rocks near the fire to dry out.

“Better?” His own wet clothes make a puddle around him as he kneels next to me, making sure I’m fully wrapped up in the blanket.

“Better,” I confirm, and I mean it, the heat is delicious, warming the rock beneath us so that the chill is no longer seeping through my clothes.

He leans in to kiss me gently on the lips, like I’m made of glass or something. “I’m sorry.”

I try to reach for his hand to assure him that I am fine, but he pulls away before I can.

“Stay with her while I finish the wards,” he orders Azriel.

I drag my attention away from Rhys to look at the other Illyrian. The orange glow of the fire of the sharp planes of his face make him look like a primordial god.

“You shouldn’t go alone,” Azriel returns, muscular arms crossed firmly over his chest.

Rhys huffs as he strides past him, “Stay. With. Her.” Then he’s back on his horse and riding back into the rain before anyone else can try and stop him.

Azriel sends some of the men out with him before settling down next to me on the floor.

I don’t know Azriel well enough to start up a conversation, at least, rationally I know that. That doesn’t stop me from trying anyway. “Is he ok?”

Azriel throws his wet boots to the floor to dry out with a sigh. “Today’s a bad day.” His wings flair out behind him, shaking out water droplets that make the fire hiss and sputter.

I glance at the remaining men, who make themselves comfortable and busy doing anything other than sit near the two of us. “What’s today?”

Hazel eyes flick briefly to me, and I get the distinct impression he’s sizing me up, before he goes back to starring in the fire. “Feyre…”

Shit.

“She died five years ago today.”

I glance back towards the mouth of the cave, out into the rain, even though I can’t see him out there in the dark.

“She…” Azriel throws another log into the fire with the energy of someone who just needs to be doing something with his hands. “She was pregnant. A boy. They’d just found out the gender.”

I don’t know what to say. The beast that lives caged beneath my skin howls and rages against my bones, like it might break free and rip through the pain I feel shred my soul at the realization of how deeply Amarantha had hurt him. My claws tear easily through my nail beds.

“He always gets like this on the anniversary,” Azriel continues. “Usually does some reckless shit and drinks himself half to death.” He too glances out the mouth of the cave. “Give him some space tonight, ok?”

I nod, not trusting my voice to speak.

“He’ll need you in the morning. It’s usually worse the day after, when he wakes up and realizes…” he trails off.

“When he realizes she’s not coming back,” tears prick the corners of my eyes. How many mornings had I awoken, still anxious that my mother had wandered off while I slept, only to remember she was gone?

“Yeah.”

“Will you check on him, in a bit?” I tuck my head against my knees.

“No,” Azriel replies. “If I leave you alone tonight…” he lets the words hang there, but I get the point. The look in Rhys’ eyes earlier was clear enough. If he thought for even a second that I was in danger tonight, after what he’d already lost, he might just tear the whole world apart.

I pull the blanket tighter around myself and lean back against a boulder, trying to get comfortable. I’ll just have to wait up for him then. He has to come back eventually, right? He’s not so distracted by the date that he’d stay up in the rain all night, would he?

Azriel brings some food out for me a little while later, and some of the men start playing card games to pass the time. We don’t speak any more after that though, the silence only broken by the pounding of the rain against the mouth of the cave. I barely have the stomach to eat anything, I just keep staring at the entrance, waiting.

Today isn’t the day to ask him why he chose me. Tomorrow won’t be either. That’s ok. For whatever reason, it doesn’t feel like it matters right now. He needs me. I’ll be here. Whatever the reason fate brought us together, whatever either of us intended to do, tonight it’s irrelevant. Tonight I don’t want to think about all the trouble behind me. I just want to be here for him, like he has been for me.

The hours start to tick by. Some of the men unfurl their sleep mats around the fire and drift off. Azriel sits dutifully beside me, spinning his dagger in his hands, only getting up every now and then to feed the fire. Rhys still doesn’t return.

My fingers drift absently to my chest, to that spot where I sometimes feel that thing that ties me to Rhys. I don’t know that it’s really a bond, it seems cruel that the Mother would tie me to him when he deserves someone better than me, but tonight I hope that it is something. I push on it, hoping that there’s another end where he can feel me. An end that tells him I’m here if he needs me, if he wants me. I can’t replace her. Or what he’s lost. I won’t even begin to try, but if he wants me, I will be here, waiting.

“You should get some sleep,” Azriel says after a while.

I shift my position to be a little closer to the fire. “No.” I don’t need to explain myself, so I won’t try.

An hour past midnight, horses come into view through the downpour. As I sit up, hopeful that he’s finally back, Cassian dismounts from a horse covered in mud. Mor follows, barely conscious, her rain slicked hair plastered to her face. She yawns as she stumbles over to the fire, and strips right there in front of everyone, her wet clothes hitting the floor with a thwack.

I don’t miss the way Azriel quickly looks away from her.

Cassian only chuckles as he throws a fresh pair of clothes at her.

Once she’s changed and holding her own blanket, she settles down next to me with a grin. “Guess you guys win this time around!”

“Yeah,” the words come out of me absently, my gaze still fixed over her shoulder, trying to see past Cassian and the rest of his men as they file in.

Azriel stands to help them light a second fire, further blocking my view.

“He was right behind us,” Mor assures, following my gaze.

I find myself biting my lower lip again as my gaze jumps from one male to the next. Where is he? He should be back by now! But none of the faces that slowly come into view as Azriel gets the fire going is the one I want to see.

My lip is bleeding from how much I’ve been biting on it tonight; I move to start biting at my nail instead. He shouldn’t be out there this long! Azriel says he gets reckless, did he do something stupid? What if he’s hurt?

Mor reaches out to grab my wrist and only then do I realize how deeply I’ve been digging my knuckles into the knot that’s been steadily forming in my chest. Her eyes are gentle as she pulls my hand away. “We weren’t followed, he’s fine.”

The beast beneath my skin snaps and growls. He’s not fine! He’s alone out there in the cold and rain, in pain and I can’t shake the feeling that he needs me… but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it.

“He shouldn’t be alone.”

She glances over to Azriel and Cassian before looking back to me. “Trust me, he wants to be. Just give him space.”

The minutes drag on for eternity. Mor lays down next to me and drifts off almost immediately. I’m so restless I’m about to start pacing. I might have actually gotten up and done it if Azriel’s disapproving gaze didn’t land on me the moment I tried to stand back up. Bastard!

It’s probably no time at all before Midnight finally comes riding through the rain into the mouth of the cave, but it feels like eternity, as if I’d been holding my breath the whole night. The knot in my chest loosens as Rhys jumps out of the saddle and finds some scraps of cloth to dry the horse off with.

His cloak is still drying across the fire, his clothes now sopping wet. Every move he makes leaves a puddle behind him. The strands of his dark hair have slipped free from the knot he’d tied them in, the long locks now clinging to his face. It takes everything in me not to get up and push them out of his way for him.

He strips down to his boxers quickly, tossing his ruined clothes somewhere behind him carelessly. The glow of the fire makes the circles under his eyes darker as he snags a wineskin from one of the men.

I watch as Cassian tries to make a joke, but Rhys just huffs at him as he pushes his hair out of his face and takes a long drink from the skin.

I’ve waited all this time to make sure he’s ok, but now that he’s back I don’t know what to do. Azriel told me to stay away tonight, and by the looks of it, he’s following his own advice as he finally retrieves his mat and lays down near the entrance of the cave. Cassian hovers for a few minutes, trying to make conversation, but Rhys just keeps drinking and ignoring him, his gaze lost in the flames. Eventually he gives up and gets his own mat ready for bed.

I wait, watching as Rhys finally sits down in front of the other fire, the light glistening off his damp skin. The shadows trace his tattoos like I often find myself wishing to do with my fingers. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I’m supposed to make this better for him. But when my world fell apart, he’d come and held me, so maybe he needs that too?

I swallow the lump in my throat as I finally stand, dragging the blanket with me.

For once, Rhys doesn’t seem to notice me, eyes still locked in the flames as he brings the skin to his lips and drinks again and again and again.

I should be afraid of him. All the males in my life were violent drunks. The scars on my side are a testament to that. Rhys is stronger than all of them, and I have no idea what he’s like drunk. But I only feel trepidation because I don’t want to make his pain worse, not because I think he’ll hurt me. I don’t think he’s capable of that.

I take the blanket off my shoulders and drape it around his, careful of where his damp wings drape across the floor. Only then does he glance up at me, his eyes glassy. Wordlessly, his hand brushes over mine, barely holding on, just enough to give me a little tug, asking me to sit. For a moment, I just sit next to him under the shared blanket, but his skin is so cold! He’s not shaking only because he’s had enough to drink to keep him from noticing.

Damn me, and the stupid thing that lives in my chest that feels like it’s breaking from my inability to fix this. I’d thought what I was feeling might be pity at first, but now… now I can’t help but think I manifested this somehow, when I asked him all those days ago if he would show me how to be a good mate.

I had spent most of my life wishing this kind of pain on him. I’ve gotten what I wanted and I hate every bit of it. This isn’t what I want at all!

Slowly, unsure of myself, I twist so I can wrap my arms around his waist. At the very least, my body heat might keep him warm. He stills under my grip, body rigid. Maybe this was the wrong move, maybe Azriel was right and I should have stayed away.

“What are you doing, mate?” He whispers in my ear, voice slurring.

I tuck my head against his bare chest. “Want to hold you.”

“Why?” His hands shake as they trail down my spine.

“You’re sad.” That’s an understatement, but I don’t know how else to put it. “I’m not very good at this comforting thing, you know? But you’ve held me when I’ve been sad so I thought, maybe, you would want that too.”

He goes quiet for a bit and I think maybe I’ve lost him to the horrors that plague his mind again, but then he tosses the wineskin to the floor and rolls us both onto our sides on the rough stone ground. The stone is uncomfortable without a mat, but he shifts so his arm is beneath my head, and glides my leg up over his hip so we’re chest to chest. I’m not sure how warm he’ll be with the fire at my back, but I hope my body heat will transfer to him well enough.

“You didn’t have to stay up for me,” he says.

I gently trace my fingers over the swirls of ink on his chest. “I know, but I wanted to. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

He nuzzles his face against mine. “Will you stay with me?”

“For as long as you need,” I assure.

His wing comes up to cover us, but he doesn’t close his eyes, fingers drawing lazy shapes against my back.

“You should sleep,” I try but he shakes his head.

“Not tonight.”

I wonder if he sees what he’s lost as clearly as I do in my dreams, but it feels like a bad time to ask. No need to further dredge up those awful memories.

“You said you used to tell your mother stories,” he says, the firelight dancing over his face. “Will you tell me one?”

It is an easy rhythm to fall into, as easy as breathing. The words spill out of me, the tale weaving itself along with the tempo of the crackling wood and the pouring rain around us. I tell story after story about the nymphs and the dryads, in a world long before Hybern and Amarantha, long before war tore our people apart. I talk until the fire starts to die, and the rain becomes a dull thud against the rocks outside; until the words become as heavy as my eyes. He never says anything during my tales, but he never closes his eyes either, hands still wandering absently up my back. The gesture more soothing than he realizes, I don’t think anyone had ever held me like this. My eyes droop despite my best efforts, words starting to slur.

“You should sleep,” he says.

“Don’t want to leave you alone,” I confess, but my eyes are so, so heavy. The strain of the last few days still weighs on me.

My vision is blurry, sleep pulling on the edge of my consciousness, so it has to be a trick of the light that I see tears in his violet eyes.

He buries his head in the crook of my neck, breath stuttering out of him, and I realize that it’s no trick. Not when I can feel the damp stain across my sleeve. He muffles a sob in my shirt, the dull thundering of the rain enough to cover the rest. My fingers move instinctively into his hair, brushing through the tangled strands., my senses once again alert and awake.

The knot in my chest aches so deeply I think it might keep me awake for days.

“I wasn’t fast enough,” he whimpers.

Gods, how many times had I whispered that very thing into the dark, rocking myself to sleep, trying to soothe myself with all the possible ways I could have saved my parents, even when I knew it was futile?

“There was nothing you could have done.” That’s what you’re supposed to say, right? It sounds right. Sounds like what I wanted someone to tell me when I spiraled down into the depths of my depression.

“It should have been me,” he sobs.

I draw him tighter against me. If I had any way to draw that pain out of his chest and take it into my own I would. I’d do anything, offer any distraction, sacrifice any plan, to take that burden off my mate.

The world feels like it zeroes in to that one, particular point.

My mate.

Of all the godsdamned times for it to click into place, for him to be right, it had to be here, in this damp cave when I have no idea how to make any of this better. I’m out of my element, in more ways than one.

“You…” I’m having a hard time breathing around the knot in my chest--no, the tether in my chest, all jumbled and tangled by all the fucked up stuff between us, but a tether none the less. “You can’t think like that.”

“You don’t understand-” he growls into my throat, but I cut him off, “Yes, I do. I do understand what it feels like to have the people you love ripped from you.”

His body stills under my hands again.

“I understand the emptiness, the loneliness, how… dark and cold and fucking brutal the aftermath is because there is suddenly no one there to tell you that it’s not your fault. There’s no one to assure you that they would want you to live and not carry the weight of it on your shoulders every godsdamned day.”

He slowly tilts his head back to look at me, his face tear streaked. I move my hand out of his hair to brush some of it off his cheek. “No one can replace what you lost.”

Slowly, he leans his head into my touch. “And I’m so sorry that you’ve lost so much.”

It’s unfair that one person should have to lose so many of the people that he loves; looking at him, I can’t believe how close I was to bringing even more pain into his life. If I had succeeded… gods I would have been worse than my father!

“But I have to believe that you are still here for a reason.” He should get to have a life! Whatever that costs me, he’s more than earned it. “Even if you haven’t found that reason yet.”

Rhys leans back down against my shoulder with a sigh that makes his wings shake. “It’s so heavy,” he whispers.

My hands go back to his hair, working through the knots the rain has created. “Show me how to help you carry it?”

His wing comes back over me again, his weight now fully on me. Somehow, it feels like that helps the tether linking us together settle. The ache… soothed, just a bit. I drift my hands from his hair down his back, careful to avoid his wings, soothing over hard muscle, until his breathing stops feeling so shaky.

“Distract me,” he whispers.

“Whatever you need, Rhys, I’m here,” and I mean it.

“Tell me another story?”

“As many as you like,” I promise. It’s the least I can do, for my mate. I shove all the fear and uncertainty the word brings to mind into a quaint little box in the back of my mind; bury it under layers of emotional damage I’ve never dealt with and refuse to let my thoughts run away with me. I will figure it out tomorrow. I will find a way to make sure I don’t become another scar on his heart. He can’t ever know what I planned to do… it would ruin him.

And I wouldn’t survive it.

----------

Tag List:

@judig92 / @randomperson1234sblog / @nyxbranwenn / @lilah-asteria / @barb00235

@landofpetrichor / @hjgdhghoe / @buttermilktea11 / @yourforeveryoungblog / @sassyn

@zoeisdreaming6 / @minnieoo / @girl-math-aint-mathing / @raisam / @inloveallthetime

@blessthepizzaman / @bxtchopolis / @erencvlt / @mylittle-flower-loves / @zanaorian

Thank you all for your patience! <3 I'm trying to get back on schedule with this!

#rhysand x reader #Rhys x reader #warlord!rhys #Rhys x you #rhysand acotar #rhysand angst #rhysand fluff #hurt/comfort #acotar fic #acotar au #in Love and war series #pro rhys #my writing #my fanfic #my series

53 notes · View notes

breyito · 3 months ago

Text

Fear your sins, not your monsters: Part Three: Paths Converging

Continuation of Day 1 and 2 of @painlandweek

Part 1 Part 2 Chapters: 3/5 Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Crystal Palace Characters: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland (DCU) Additional Tags: Protective Edwin Paine | Edwin PayneUnhinged Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Violence, Torture, Hurt Charles Rowland (DCU), Sickfic, love language: acts of service, painlandweek, BAMF Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Angst with a Happy Ending

Here on AO3

A/N: Hello! I'm so, so sorry about the delay! My ADHD has been kicking my ass for the last couple of weeks and istg i feel like i can't do anything. Anyways. I had to split this chapter in half, cause it was getting ridiculously long again, and I wasnt going to finish the rest of it today. (I have this new app on my phone that is voice-to-text and it changed my life! All the dialogues i keep forgetting bc of lack of energy to write i can just *dictate* and it feels so good lol. It also lenghtened this quite a bit, tho.) No moodboard for this one either, not yet. I'll try to make one tomorrow (or in a few hours, as it is, once again, 5am). No beta and English is not my native language, so any mistakes please point them out. I hope you enjoy this one! I'm very curious about what you'll think of this one ;P Oh, WARNING:This contains violence, threats of rape towards Charles and other children's souls, etc.

Part Three: Paths Converging

They headed back to the office. On the way, Crystal with her phone in her ear, Edwin had explained the general gist of things to her. Mainly that the other ghost hadn’t known the location of the lair of the witch, but had visited a few times. To allow him to travel there via mirror, she had given him a token attuned to him and his energy. They could use the token, but not to travel with it more than once; and definitely not to escape the place. (Not to mention that Crystal would have never let Edwin go on his own alone, without even the possibility of helping him. She was glad, still, that the ghost boy had not even suggested that.)

“So how can we use it?” she asked, looking right at him, as she plopped down on the couch. They were inside the office now and nosy taxi drivers couldn’t watch her suspiciously anymore. Also, she was exhausted and couldn’t bother with more acting for a couple of hours.

Edwin had gone straight to the massive pile of books on top of every single flat surface, including boxes full of files. He had looked at the books covering the desk for a full thirty seconds and then sent a wave of the black smoke at them, and they actually began moving on their own towards the floor. Crystal was…ignoring that for now, for the sake of her sanity. (How many things was she already ignoring?)

“I think I can combine a couple of rituals to create a sort of…tether, between Charles and myself.” he replied to her, as he removed his outer layers. “This would, basically, allow us to communicate with him and follow his energy to the place where the witch has absconded him.”

“Don’t tethers usually need something more physical to work?” she questioned, curious. At least that’s what the book she had been reading before their last case went wildly off course had said. Maybe the black smoke allowed him to tweak the limits?

“I have something more physical of his.” Edwin said, touching Charles’ necklace still around his neck. ”And for me, well, some blood or the ghost equivalent should work.” His eyes showed his mind went far, far away for a couple of moments. She said nothing, remembering the sudden rush of cold, dark, wet she had felt the last time she touched it. Edwin eventually shook off the melancholy and straightened his posture.

“I will need to compile the different arrays and rites I need to build this ritual. It will take me at least a few hours, so I suggest you rest up.”

“Are you sure I can’t help you…?” she asked, despite knowing he probably wouldn’t let her. Building rituals from scratch was a whole new area and she had exactly zero experience with that.

“Crystal.” He sighed, already spreading an alarming amount of books on the now clean desk. “I don’t mean to be rude, but unless you have a working knowledge of any of the Celtic languages, Aramaic, Latin or Fuþorc Runes I’ll ask you to keep out of it.”

“Okay, okay.” she rolled her eyes. Kicking her shoes off, she got comfortable on the couch and covered herself with the blanket. “But wake me up if you need to leave, alright?” she mumbled, half asleep already. “I don’t wanna panic if you’re not there when I wake up…”

Several hours later, Edwin shook her awake. Still woozy from sleep, she understood he needed a specific kind of knife he didn’t have but knew where to get. And that he had to travel by mirror to the place. She mumbled her understanding to him, and he left.

It was only when she was about to drop back into a deep sleep that her brain actually zoned in to the important part. She sat up on the couch so suddenly she felt dizzy.

“ Esther Finch’s fucking house!?” she yelled at the flat mirror, frustrated beyond belief. “Are you shitting me , Edwin!?” she cursed at the empty office. She creamed into the pillow a bit more, then got up. At least this should give her time to shower.

—-- —-- —--

Edwin really doesn’t want to go back to Port Townsend. The place was bleak, damp and filled with memories of suffering. Whether it is mental, emotional or physical; he’d experienced more pain in that little town in a single month than in the rest of the world in the last fifteen years.

But Charles was missing. Taken by another witch with a penchant for sick, twisted games and children’s pain. The ritual he came up with was novel and needed every single element to work. The dagger was fundamental. Edwin could not risk wasting more time looking for another knife with the same qualities when he already knew the location of one.

So he travelled to Port Townsend via mirror. He landed in Crystal’s old room above Jenny’s shop, and walked up to the house in a disguise. It was better than trying to travel directly inside Finch’s house, which surely had enchantments against ghosts using her mirrors that way.

As soon as his feet landed inside a ten metre radius, he could feel the repellent wards telling him to go away. This magic felt different than Finch’s. Probably the Cat King, then. Or maybe Tragic Mick? He ignored the compulsion, and kept walking up the path into the porch.

He took off his glasses before reaching the stairs, and became his true self again. A loud caw immediately greeted him. He paused and looked back, and saw Monty in his true form on a tree branch. The pause allowed the crow to land in the handrail of the porch, exuding an air of disapproval. Edwin sighed.

“I need to get something from inside this house.” he said, focusing on one of the crows’ eyes. “I’m not going to-” he paused before he promised something he couldn’t keep. Because he couldn’t promise not to hurt someone with what he took from inside. “I’m going to get something from inside this house.” He said instead. “And you are not going to stop me.”

Monty lifted into the air, agitated, cowing. His wings produced so much wind that Edwin took a step back, but then straightened up and pulled his notebook and held it open with one hand.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Monty.” he stated. “But I will if you try to stop me.” His other hand opened and a bright orange flame erupted, tinged with wisps of black. An alarmed cry made Edwin feel like garbage, but he held the flame on his palm. In control, but ready to attack.

The crow flew off then, shrill caws on his way. Edwin took a deep breath and extinguished the fire, wiping his hand on his coat. He pocketed his notebook and climbed the stairs. Fortunately, he went in as easily as he had done for Becky.

By the time Edwin had found the dagger, and snatched a book that looked like it had been involved in the creation of the ghastly machine that so much pain it had caused him; it was already too late. He felt a pulse of energy from outside, and cursed under his breath. He could try to undo the spells on the mirrors of the house, but that would take too long. So he sighed and marched outside.

“Edwin, Edwin, Edwin. You don't write, you don't call…” the Cat King said with a fake moue. Edwin looked up and saw Monty flying in circles above their heads. Little snitch , he thought, resentful.

“Cat King.” he said, nodding in respect, trying to walk around him. “I'm just leaving.” But diplomacy never worked on him.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The other man clicked his tongue, stepping in Edwin’s path. The ghost boy stopped where he was, not willing to get closer.

“What do you think you are doing, entering the house of the Wicked Witch of the West?” The shapeshifter asked, sauntering around him. He was wearing heeled boots, and it added a little height difference that irked Edwin.

“I already have what I came here looking for. Now, if you please, I'm in a hurry.” Edwin tried to give another step, but the Cat King walked closer again, forcing him to step back. He was not putting himself in reach again. Monty cowed, flying faster, agitated.

“No. I don't think I please.” he tilted his head. “Knowledge like Esther's is dangerous. And I just can't let you leave with something dangerous.” The trickster’s tone was still playful, and it was grating on Edwin’s nerves.

“Knowledge is just knowledge.” the detective said, exasperated. “And I'm not asking you for permission.” he countered, snappish, head held high. “You're wasting my time .” The Cat King’s eyes shone.

“You should always have time for me, dear.” he said, smile cutting. “I can always just trap you here again, Edwin.” He offered, the smile still on.

“...And I can always start killing your subjects until you let me leave. But we are not doing that, are we, Thomas? ” he smirked back, biting. There was something cold in those green eyes that made the shifter want to shiver. The faint wisps of black coming up from the ground were certainly unnerving. Monty screeched in alarm and abruptly landed on a branch several metres down.

“You know my name.” the Cat King realised, stepping back.

“I do. I know a lot of things about you now.” the ghost added, taking a step forward. “You like to play games . But I already knew that, from last time.” Edwin took another step closer. “The difference is, Charles is not with me right now. And I don't have a lot of patience for games when he is in danger.” he snarled.

“So that is why you're doing this? For him? You came all the way to America, to the house where you were tortured in, just for him ?” Thomas asked, indignant.

“I would do many more things for him.” Edwin stated, staring right into those yellow eyes, daring. The shifter scoffed, leaning closer, looking down at the ghost.

“Like threatening me?” The man asked, incredulous.

“I'm not threatening you. I'm warning you.” Edwin said, looking up, teeth bared. It looked more like a show of aggression from a cornered animal than a smile. “You're either on my side, or standing in my fucking way. And I'll get through anything standing in my way to get to him.” Their faces were only a few centimetres apart now, noses almost touching.

Thomas knew, in that moment, that Edwin was being completely honest. He seemed not to care a single bit what could happen to him as long as he could leave to go help his little friend. Nor what enemies he could leave behind. The Cat King felt a bit peeved about it, quite hot under the collar, and a lot jealous. That kind of loyalty to another person, to the point of detriment to yourself? He’d never felt it nor had he had it. It was alluring , damn it.

“Deathly little thing, aren’t you?” he whispered to this mysterious boy, unwillingly feeling more attracted to him still. The tension between them finally broke when Edwin’s lips formed a teasing smile and his eyes softened a little.

“Only when I have to.” he whispered back, before breaking his gaze and pressing the faintest of kisses on Thomas’ jaw, surprising him. He then sidestepped him and walked out of the yard.

By the time the Cat King turned around, Edwin was already jumping into a puddle, travelling to where he needed to be. Monty cowed twice and Thomas felt the hidden amusement.

“Oh, shut it, bird-boy. Like you didn’t defy your witch for him, even after he rejected you.” he snapped.

—-- —-- —--

Charles woke up all at once, gasping. He was sopping wet and chained to the ceiling. The metal of the chains was iron, and they were burning every part of his body that touched them. He was still only wearing his trousers, felt his extremities numb with cold and some of his curls had crusted over with ice.

When his eyes got used to the dim room, he could see it was the same basement he had been trapped in since the beginning. The only real difference was that he wasn’t alone this time. There was a woman on the corner, deep in the shadows. For what he could see, she was pretty fit. Charles might have looked twice if he had seen her on the street. But with her wild blonde hair, tight red dress and tall boots; she looked like she was wearing a halloween costume that couldn’t decide if it was vampire or witch. A large white spider, with its eyes closed, peacefully placed inside her hair didn’t help matters. He had almost missed it.

“You’re finally awake!” she cheered, getting closer. “Now we can finally get started .” her grin was dangerous and the boy felt a shiver go down his spine.

Taking advantage of the fact that his feet barely touch the ground, she spun him around, making him lose balance. His knee buckled under him and his whole weight was left suspended from his shoulders until he managed to find his footing again. He was trembling even worse after that, and tears of frustration began leaking from his eyes.

“Are you crying? How cute .” she cooed, grabbing his face and licking the trail the drop had left on his cheek. ”I’d give you a comfort kiss, but I don’t snog anyone that’s not my man.”

“You. Are. Crazy.” Charles said, leaning away from her. The spider opened its eyes and winked with half of them, waving two of its legs. The shivers got worse.

“Don’t be like that, poppet. Everything I’m doing is for love.”

“ Love ?” he repeated, sceptical.

“Yes! I’m gonna get the love of my life back, and you’re gonna help me.”

“I don’t know anything about love potions or spells; we don’t mess with that shite.” Charles explained, weary. The witch snorted, the spider wiggled, like it was laughing too. (Was this her familiar? Did it share the same amount of sentience as Monty? Somehow, that thought was terrifying).

“Pffff, I don’t mean like that . My boo and I were tragically separated when he was killed by the police and then he got dragged to Hell! ” she huffed. “Like, what even? I just want him back .”

Usually, Charles was willing to give everyone a chance to explain themselves. It’s not like the system was flawless. Good souls could be sent to Hell, like it had happened with Edwin.

However, since he was still shivering from the literal torture this woman had put him through (torture she implied her ‘boo’ would enjoy); he would go out on a limb an bet the bloke completely deserved his tenure in Hell.

“And why was he killed by the police?” he asked anyway, already tired of dealing with this. The chat was a step up from the freezing water, but the talk itself so far was three steps down from the earlier solitude.

“Because his stupid best friend and he decided to rob a bank!” she exclaimed, clearly miffed. This time, when she grabbed him to spin him around, her nails left deep scratches, burning and bleeding. This bitch had iron in her nail polish, apparently. “They were caught doing that. I mean, you have to give it to the pigs. They really messed up on that one.”she laughed. “They were caught and got done in as fucking robbers. They didn't even search their flat! They just killed them and left them at the morgue. They never found out that we were the ones dropping the mangled bodies everywhere.”

“You're sick.” Charles said, swallowing, as he found his rooting again.

“Oh, baby, of course I am. Didn't I tell you already? I love making people break, playing with them.” She licked her lips, seductive. The ghost boy just felt nauseous. “What I love even more is watching my man do it for me. And that's why you're going to help me bring him back.”

“From Hell ?” He asked, incredulous. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn't help you. Edwin is the one with the knowledge of Hell and its paths, not me. You chose the wrong one of us to kidnap.”

“I don’t think I did. Word is, you are the one that I saved him from hell this time.” she smiled. She put her extended arm on his shoulder and placed her weight on the claw-like nails sinking in the muscle there. He felt blood dripping down his back. The spider began walking down her shoulder and onto her arm. Leaning in until their faces almost touched, she looked him dead in the eyes, despite his efforts to keep the blasted thing in his line of sight.

“I did, yeah.” He admitted. “But I had help. I had someone else, much more powerful than I or you ever could be. They opened a portal down to Hell and they kept it open until we got back. You can't do that.” He swallowed. “Can you?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking, now looking at the spider.

Cursing, she pushed him back and started roaming the room, hands wildly gesturing. The spider had quickly climbed up to her head again. Charles had lost his balance and was spinning again, but at least that beast was not near him. He took her cursing as a negative to his question. Charles wanted to believe this was good news (he dreaded the thought of that man anywhere but Hell), but you never knew how others were going to react when you didn’t give them the information they wanted. This woman? Completely bonkers. Hopefully she would just let him in here, until Edwin rescued him. Suddenly, she stopped in the middle of the basement.

“Hmm, maybe I can't open up a portal. But I can make a deal with a demon so that I can get into hell.” She was smiling again. “And you will help me find my way out.”

“A deal with a demon is a terrible idea. Besides, lady, even if I tell you all I know about hell, which I won’t do. The level Edwin was at? It was terrible, but it wasn't that deep. The level your boo must be in… it has to be one of the deepest and darkest ones, just based on what you describe me you two did, to people.”

“I can think of a few things I can offer the demon so that he helps me.” she countered, now pensive instead of agitated.

“Like what?”

“Like you, your soul. Essence, whatever. Or one of the others’.” Charles was almost afraid to ask.

“Others?”

“Oh, yeah. I've been collecting little souls as gifts for my boyfriend when he comes back. Since, you know, he won't be able to interact with the living now he is dead and will become a ghost.”

“... Little souls?” he asked again, disgusted. He tried leaning away, but she plunged her nails into his face to keep his eyes on her.

“Yeah, the souls of little ones!” she smiled, and it was a terrible smile. A wild hunger seemed to seep from her feverish eyes. “He's not that much into kids. He prefers young people, teenagers, you know.” she winked at him, suggestive.

“So he's a paedophile, but not that much of a paedophile?” Charles mocked, deciding to ignore the implications.

She let go of his face only to slap him hard, hard enough to leave deep gouges from the iron on the nails she wore.

“He hates that word!” she screamed, offended. “He just… really loves young people.” The sheer incredulity must have shown on his face, because she just continued. “Anyways, I was collecting these souls so he could play with them when he comes back, you know? I bet he will be in a foul mood, and I just thought 'well what better way to cheer him up than letting him blow off some steam on a couple souls he will find pleasing?’ ' I took great care in ensuring they were innocent, as well. The responses to all the pain and the bit of little pleasure here and there that we can teach them are always the best .” she sighed, dreamy. “And ghosts are so much more resilient! We can play with you and play with you and play with you until you break.” She said, eyes evaluating him up and down. “And then we can start all over again!” she laughed.

Charles puked all over the floor.

"You truly are," he said in disgusted awe " the most despicable person I've ever met. And a few months ago I was at the mercy of a witch that cannibalised little girls. "

“Oh, cannibalism.” she hummed. “That sounds fun, doesn’t it, Ari?” she cooed at her familiar, reaching for the thing. “You have to get me her number.” she said to him.

Charles spat at her. It barely touched her face before she shrieked and sent him crashing to the back of the room. The chains had fallen from the ceiling and onto his torso, burning him terribly.

“And you need to learn some manners." She said as he screamed from the sudden agony. Then she turned her back on him and walked towards the door. "I guess I will just leave you to repeat the cycle until you have had enough."

Charles’ last coherent thought before he was dropped under the thick frozen layer of water of the lake instead of through the ice as always, was that Edwin and he would absolutely need to save those poor spirits.

—-- —-- —--

“That took longer than you said it would.” Crystal said as soon as he stepped through the mirror into the office. “Did the house not let you in?” she asked, remembering how they had just phased through the walls last time.

“The house gave me no problem at all.” Edwin answered, placing the knife on the desk. “It was Monty, actually.” he explained, with a grimace. “I had an encounter with the Cat king,” Crystal’s eyebrow went up “but not much came out of it. He was very insistent about not letting any kind of knowledge leave that witch's house.” He took off his coat and his gloves and, uncharacteristically, threw them onto the couch. It was the only free surface, she supposed. “Which would normally be a good thing, but in these circumstances, I could not abide by it.”

“And did he give you any trouble?” she questioned, sceptical.

“He tried to threaten me, so I just…threatened him back.” Edwin said, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves, trying to play it off as unimpressive. Yeah, Crystal was not gonna let that one slide.

“ You threatened the Cat King?” she said, incredulous. “He left you trapped in Port Townsend for weeks!”

“Ah, but I didn't know anything about him back then.” He countered. “And I wasn't dabbling in anything more dangerous than usual. And perhaps the most important thing of all…” Edwin started, leafing through his notes.

“...It was you in danger, not Charles.” Crystal interrupted, finishing the idea.

“Exactly.” He said, pleased that she understood this about him by now.

As they began prepping the materials for this massive ritual, she managed to corroborate that it was far beyond anything they had shown her so far. The ritual seemed so complicated. Beyond the dagger that he had to pick up from the other side of the world, it required them to move every single piece of furniture against the walls, then grabbing the bathroom mirror for a later use.

After that, they placed a bedsheet on the floor, drawing a big circle on it with black chalk, and drew a set of runes inside it, near the centre. Then Edwin grabbed Charles' backpack, and took out a bottle full of a viscous dark liquid. He then lit a dozen candles inside the marked circle, each one in its specific place. A wave of different smells assaulted Crystal’s nose. She supposed that ghosts weren’t bothered by it since they couldn't smell much. She tried very hard not to sneeze.

Edwin retrieved two different cups from a cupboard, one made from silver and one from crystal, and poured the liquid from the bottle inside the silver one. For the other, he took out Esther’s knife from his pocket and sliced his forearm with it. Blood tinted with ectoplasm began to pour inside the empty cup, and once it was three quarters full he removed the wound from it to avoid overspilling. He slid two fingers over the wound and the black smoke that was becoming familiar to Crystal ate up the blood and sealed the wound. Then, he reached for Charles' chain around his neck and took it off. Gently, he let it fall inside the cup that had his blood. He took a big piece of parchment paper, those old ones that you see only in movies, yellowed with age, thick, and coarse to the touch.

With a grimace, he sank his fingers into the first cup. A low hum came from his throat, sounding almost like words but not really. He began writing symbols with the blood onto the parchment. With the other hand, he began tracing the same symbols again, on another blank sheet of parchment, on top of the first one. These symbols were mirrored, and written with his own blood from the second cup. Once he was done, a string of Latin came out of his lips, and the second set of symbols lifted up in the air, glowing golden light, and fused into the first set, on the first sheet of parchment. The other parchment disintegrated as soon as the last trace of blood left the paper.

Edwin let out a breath Crystal hadn't noticed he was holding. Done, he took the parchment, and began ripping it in pieces, keeping each symbol inside its own square of paper, and placed the symbols inside the circle according to the instructions written down by his own hand. The bloody symbols then sank through the paper and sealed themselves to the linen fabric. Edwin waved his hand and all the blank pieces of paper flew from the array. Then he took the necklace from inside the second cup and put it into the first cup.

He took the bathroom mirror, and placed it in the middle of the circle array spell, then took the necklace out of the cup and flicked it in the air where it remained still, frozen in place at about two metres high. The symbols on the bedsheet and the blood on the necklace pulsed with golden energy every couple of heartbeats.

“I need you,” he started to say, very clearly, “to not, for any reason, enter the circle.”

“All right” she said, heart beating like crazy.

“Whatever I ask you to bring me, you will put it inside the circle without touching inside it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Edwin repeated, breathing deep. He knelt beside the foggy mirror on the floor and began writing on it with his finger. At the same time, he spoke up, to keep her in the loop. “Charles? Are you there?”

Charles

are you there?

#fear your sins not your monsters #payneland #painland week #edwin payne #charles rowland #edwin x charles #dead boy detectives #dbda

23 notes · View notes

mimisempai · 5 months ago

Text

You're the only light in my blurry world 6/10

Chapter summary

With some time on his hands, Crowley decides to pay Aziraphale a surprise visit.

But he's the one in for a surprise.

Who is this stranger acting so familiar with Aziraphale?

Is there storm on the way?

On Ao3

Rating G - 2907 words

Masterpost for this fic : here

Crowley was gathering the materials he'd used for his presentation when a gentle knock at the door made him look up.

It was the head of the planetarium's education department.

"Hello, Crowley, I came to inform you that we had to close the main amphitheater due to a technical problem, so there will be no sessions this afternoon."

Crowley nodded and asked, "What am I supposed to do instead?"

The manager shook his head and replied, "You have the afternoon off. Since you've been working here, attendance has increased significantly. You've earned it."

"Glad to know that, thank you."

"I'm the one thanking you. Have a good day and see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

Crowley finished packing his things and then left the planetarium, wondering what he would do with his afternoon.

Maybe he could do some drawing.

That made him think of Aziraphale.

He took out his phone to read their last conversation, which made him smile again.

I'm looking forward to Thursday.

PS: You're even more beautiful after being kissed.

Send at 11:15 am

Don't send me messages like that anymore!

I had to explain to Maggie and Nina (his girlfriend)

why I was blushing.

Received at 2:05 p.m.

Oh, what did you tell them?

Sent at 2:06 pm

The truth, of course.

That it was because of a message from my boyfriend.

(I hope you don't mind me telling them)

Received at 2:07 pm

It hadn't been hard, knowing Aziraphale's history with James, his ex-boyfriend, to understand that he was worried about Crowley's reaction to talking openly about their new relationship. So even though he couldn't call him because he was at the planetarium, Crowley had written back immediately to reassure him.

Of course I don't mind.

You can shout it from the rooftops.

Even put an ad in the paper.

No, even better! You can put up a poster

in your bookshop.

It would say: "I, Aziraphale Fell, am dating the

gorgeous Anthony Crowley."

Sent at 2:11 pm

At least it would help me get rid of

customers who might flirting with me.

Received at 2:13 pm

Crowley remembered the overwhelming feeling of jealousy that had come over him when he'd read this.

All the more reason to make this poster.

Right now.

Sent at 2:14 pm

Possessive?

Received at 2:15 pm

Crowley couldn't deny it, but he also didn't want to upset his lover in the early stages of their relationship, so he had been slow to find an appropriate response to send. That's why he had received a second message from Aziraphale after the previous one.

I like it.

I'm seriously considering doing this poster now.

;-)

Received at 2:17 pm

The exchange of messages continued in this playful tone until Crowley returned to work.

Closing his phone as he reached his car, Crowley sighed, realizing that he missed Aziraphale and that it was hard to believe he'd have to wait another 48 hours before seeing him again.

Wait. He had the afternoon off.

Why should he wait? The only commitment he had was a meeting later that evening.

He knew now what he would do this afternoon.

He was going to visit a bookseller who wasn't expecting him.

So, half an hour later, he parked his Bentley at the end of the street and quietly made his way to the bookshop at the corner.

Moments later, he walked past the window and, turning his head to see if Aziraphale was inside, saw him and another man.

Crowley immediately sensed that this was no ordinary customer.

He slowed his pace, keeping a discreet lookout, then saw Aziraphale shake his head. The other man put his hand on his arm, and when Crowley saw Aziraphale back away, he had to stop himself from rushing into the bookshop. Then he saw the man nod and walk away from Aziraphale.

Just as Crowley reached the door, the man, who was handsome, stepped out and turned to say Aziraphale inside the bookshop, "I won't make the same mistake, Zira. I've changed."

Zira?

Then he waved a small pendant he wore around his neck and added, "Now you'll always recognize me, thanks to this."

I don't need a pendant for him to recognize me.

Crowley waited until the man with the pendant had disappeared around the corner, then took a step toward the door.

"Crowley? "

Crowley froze as he recognized the voice and turned to say in a harsh tone, "What the hell are you doing here? Are you following me?"

"Hey, is that any way to talk to your father?"

Crowley shook his head and replied, "You are not my father. You lost the right to call me your son the day you ran off and emptied the accounts, leaving us with nothing."

He felt nothing but loathing for the man before him.

He remembered his mother's tears when she'd tried to excuse him, then when she'd run out of arguments. He remembered her drawn features and all the evenings he'd spent alone at home because of the jobs she'd had to pile up to support them. Never complaining. Always trying to give him the best.

No, this man was not his father.

"You didn't answer my question, were you following me?"

The man in front of him looked at him and sneered, "No, I was having a beer in the pub across the street and what a surprise to see my dear son through the window. Look at you. Things seem to be going well for you. Life is not so hard, it seems. Do you have a small bill for your poor father?"

Crowley felt the anger that had been building inside him since the beginning of the conversation about to explode, so he clenched his fists and tried to control himself.

The other man continued, "Oh, come on, you seem to be doing all right for yourself, and besides, I'm sure that rich father-in-law your mother sold herself to must be spoiling you..."

Crowley grabbed the man by the neck and angrily shouted, "Say that again!"

"Crowley."

The soft voice made him turn his head and Crowley saw Aziraphale raise a hand toward him as he advanced.

His lover repeated softly, "You'll regret it if you do that."

Crowley slowly released the man and Aziraphale came to stand in front of him, between him and his so-called father.

"Sir, I must ask you to leave immediately. You are harassing a very dear friend, and if you continue, I won't be as nice as I seem."

"I advise you to listen to him."

It was Nina who had just arrived, accompanied by Maggie, who continued, "I have a friend who's a cop and owes me a favor, I can call him and he'll be here in a minute."

Crowley's father tried one last bravado and took a step toward Aziraphale, saying, "Are you threatening me?"

"You're the threat, we're just protecting someone we care about."

Crowley felt Aziraphale's hand slide down his arm and grab his own, squeezing it tightly.

Crowley's father grumbled, and as he turned to go back to the pub, Aziraphale added, "I would suggest not going back there, the owner is also a friend. To be clear, this is our street and you're persona non grata."

"You!"

Maggie waved her hand.

"Bye-bye!"

Crowley's father had no choice but to leave and Crowley watched him until he disappeared around the corner, then, his hand still in Aziraphale's, he turned to the small group and whispered, his throat tightening, "Thank you all."

Maggie approached, then hugged him briefly and said quietly, "You're welcome. Thanks to a certain bookseller, you're part of our little family here. And no one messes with one of our own."

Then she turned to Nina, who nodded in agreement before they both walked off in the direction of the coffee shop.

"Come on, Crowley, come with me."

In a daze, Crowley let Aziraphale lead him into the bookshop. He watched as he hung a small sign on the outside of the door before double locking it.

"Now we're safe."

Crowley let himself be dragged to the sofa where Aziraphale made him sit before saying softly, "I'll be right back."

Crowley saw him off to the back of the bookstore, realizing that he hadn't taken the time to look at Aziraphale's place the last time he was here. He gave a small smile because everything was so much like him. An eclectic mix of old things and books everywhere, but what stood out most was a feeling of warmth and comfort.

He sighed.

It was so welcome after what he'd just been through.

He felt bad for losing his temper and making a spectacle of himself.

What had Aziraphale been thinking?

"Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better."

Lost in thought, Crowley hadn't heard Aziraphale return and looked up at his lover handing him a steaming mug.

Crowley took it and inhaled before saying with a half-smile on his lips, "Hot chocolate? I'm not a kid."

Aziraphale sat down beside him and replied, "I know it calms me down after a stressful situation, so I thought..."

"I was just messing with you. Thanks, that's very thoughtful of you."

He blew on the chocolate and continued, looking embarrassed, "Look, I'm sorry about before. I know I never should have lost my t-"

"Stop that right now!"

Crowley looked at Aziraphale in surprise as his lover shook his head before continuing, "You don't have to apologize. The only one who needs to apologize is your father."

"Please don't call him that. Besides, how do you know it's my-"

Aziraphale replied quietly, "I overheard part of the conversation. Crowley, you had every right to be angry after the horrible things he said, and if I intervened, it wasn't for him, it was for you. Only for you."

Crowley took a sip of chocolate and replied, "Thank you, because I think I would have come to blows with him. I guess I owe you some explanations, I-"

Aziraphale interrupted him again and said quietly, "You don't owe me any explanations. Only if you feel like talking about it."

Crowley replied, "I do. I need to."

Aziraphale gently placed his hand on Crowley's knee and said softly, "Then I'll listen. Whenever you want. Whenever you're ready."

Crowley first emptied his cup of chocolate, then set it down before placing his hand on Aziraphale's and squeezing it tightly.

Then he told him about his childhood, how his father had left him and his mother, the difficult consequences, but also how his mother had done everything she could to give him a happy childhood, and she had succeeded. He told him how she and her boss had fallen in love a few years ago.

"I know it's a cliché, the secretary and the boss. But nothing my f- this man implied was true. She didn't do it for the money. She even resigned, against her soon-to-be lover's advice, when they decided to be together, to avoid the rumors, and she found a job elsewhere, on her own, and only then did she agree to go out with him. She's not-"

Aziraphale said reassuringly, "Hey, you don't have to justify anything. I'm sure your mother is a wonderful woman. You just have to know her son to know that."

Crowley blushed slightly and continued, "Anyway, they got married and five years ago I got a little sister, Sarah."

"Ohhh you have a little sister!"

Aziraphale's emboldened interruption made Crowley smile and he replied, "Yes, and even though she's a little brat, I adore her."

As he spoke, Crowley realized he'd like to introduce his sister to Aziraphale; he had a feeling the two of them would get along perfectly.

Wow wow wow, stop, they hadn't even had their first date and he already wanted to introduce him to his family.

"By the way, what are you doing here?"

His lover's question came at just the right moment.

"I wanted to surprise you."

He chuckled and added, "And I was the one who was surprised."

More than once, in fact, Crowley thought, remembering the other man who'd been in the bookshop when he'd arrived.

As if Aziraphale had read his mind, he said with a half smile, "Well, looks like it's surprise visit day."

Crowley asked innocently, "Oh, yeah?"

Aziraphale nodded and replied, "Yes, I had a visit from... James."

Crowley s'exclama, "James as in James your ex-boyfriend?"

Aziraphale nodded again.

"You mean that handsome guy who came out of your shop earlier was James?"

"You saw him?"

"I arrived just as he was leaving. What did he want with you?"

Aziraphale began to play with a thread from his shirt sleeve and replied, "Well, he wanted us to make up. He said he wanted to make an effort to understand me..."

Crowley interrupted coldly, "And since you're nice, you agreed, didn't you?"

"No, of course not, you idiot!"

"No?"

Aziraphale replied, looking irritated, "Is that what you think of me? That just because he comes crawling back, I'm going to forgive him and we're going to go back to the way things were? I'm telling you again, you idiot, I chose you. There isn't even a choice, you're my first choice. You're the one I am i... I mean, you're the one I want to be with."

Crowley replied, "But as he was leaving, he said this thing about thinking about it again, he even had this pendant that you could recognize him."

Aziraphale sighed and replied, "He talked about being friends. After I made it clear that I had someone in my life now who made me much happier than he did, he suggested we stay friends, but I said no, I'm not ready for that. Especially not now that I know what it's like to have real friends who won't let you down in a hard time."

"You said I make you happy?"

Aziraphale nodded and Crowley insisted, "But how? We barely know each other. I mean, you make me happy too, but..."

The bookseller smiled tenderly and replied, "What can I say? That my heart beats faster knowing I'm going to see you soon, that it beats faster when my phone vibrates in my pocket because I hope it's a message from you, that there's not an hour of the day I don't think about you, that I really want to tell everyone I have a lover, that Maggie told me she's never seen me glow like this. Crowley, these last few days, just thinking about you has made me happier than I've been in a long time. None of the memories I have with James thrill me the way every memory with you does. And I know that we're just getting started. That there's a lot we don't know about each other. But one thing I'm sure of is that I'm in this for the long haul. Crowley, I don't know how to convince you, but..."

"Stop, you convinced me, Aziraphale, you convinced me."

With those words, Crowley leaned forward and pressed his lips to Aziraphale's in a kiss that had nothing to do with the brief kiss they had shared on the doorstep the day before. There was no hesitation as they tested the sensation of their lips pressed together. No hesitation in the way Aziraphale's mouth opened to welcome Crowley's tongue. No hesitation in the way their breath mingled. No hesitation in the way Aziraphale's hands buried themselves in Crowley's hair to deepen the kiss.

No hesitation as it went on and on until they were forced to catch their breath.

Gasping, Aziraphale pulled away just enough to raise his fingers to Crowley's face, following the line of his jaw, studying his lover's face. He saw in Crowley's gaze the same sense of longing to continue the kiss, but also the fear of ruining everything by rushing in.

Crowley asked, his voice a little hoarse with the same emotion Aziraphale could feel in himself, "Are you okay?"

Aziraphale, far too moved to answer aloud, simply nodded.

Crowley, concerned, asked, "Do you want us to slow down a bit?"

Aziraphale, confused by all the emotions running through him, replied, "No, yes, I... I don't know."

Crowley laughed lightly and said, "I know, me too."

He planted a light kiss on his lover's lips and continued, "That's a lot of emotions in a few hours. For both of us."

He wrapped his arms around Aziraphale's shoulders and pulled him to his chest, leaning back against the sofa.

"Let's keep it that way for now. We've got time."

Aziraphale nodded, immediately realizing that this was perfect and exactly what he needed.

After a moment he laughed softly and said playfully, "We still haven't had our first date."

"Well, we do things a little differently."

Aziraphale replied, "Look around, order isn't really my way of life."

Crowley pressed a kiss to his hair and replied softly, "I like it the way it is.

I like you.

He wrapped his arms around his lover, who snuggled even closer.

They spent the rest of the afternoon like this, savoring this new intimacy together, aware that they had overcome new obstacles and emerged unscathed.

Both knew exactly how they felt, even if they weren't ready to put it into words.

They had time.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #Human AU

24 notes · View notes

iamamythologicalcreature · 11 months ago

Text

Six Sentence Sunday/Creative Proof of Life

Thanks for the tags, @alexalexinii, @shrekgogurt, and @that-disabled-princess!

This WIP post is basically a proof of life statement. I can't believe it's been over a month since I posted Chapter 1 of the Haunting of Simon Snow. I'm so overdue for chapter 2, BUT... instead I finished writing the rough draft. I've been attempting to outline, because when I rough a draft, I really rough it up. Ahem.

So I have been working on it, even if there is zero evidence on AO3 as of yet.

How about some sentences? I haven't sliced up chapters yet, so not sure if this is from chapter two or three, but here's a snippet of Simon on the phone with Penny expressing some smooshy sentiments:

I curl up on the couch a bit more, maneuvering myself so my wings aren’t crushed. “I went flying last night,” I confess then, in quiet tones. Like someone might hear me. “You— Oh, but… You can’t! What if someone sees you?” I can actually hear her biting her lip. She wants to spell my problems away, and she can’t. “But I can,” I say, smiling a bit more. “There’s no one around for acres. No one will even willingly drive here on account of the house being haunted. It’s empty. And I’m flying at night.” I say flying in the present tense and realize I fully intend to fly again tonight.

Penny huffs. Her specialty. “I don’t like it.” “I do,” I say easily, warming up to explaining, hoping she’ll understand. “It’s so freeing, Pen. Like the weight of the world can’t hold me down, anymore. I feel… It’s like… It’s like I’m closer to the stars. Like I’m close to stirring up the milky way.” I let out a sigh, my eyes closing as I drop my head back, indulging in that recent memory. “I don’t hate it as much, when I’m up there. You know?” There’s a few seconds of silence, and I open my eyes again. “Pen?” “Hate what?” she asks quietly.

(just in case you were worried I wouldn't be including angst...)

Bit more info on my progress (maybe some whinging) and tags and hellos below the cut!

Fun facts about my ineffecient writing process:

I spent more than one or two hours clearing asterisks from my rough draft this morning. (Because discord has trained me to do *this* when I write instead of this.) Because I'm trying to listen to my draft via screen readers, but it keeps sounding like "asterisk-impossible-star-fuck me" (that's my favorite one honestly, it's supposed to read "Impossible. Fuck me.") which is really annoying (more often than amusing). ANYWAY… what this has revealed to me is that I use "Fuck" a lot, as well as "So good." Ahem. Take from that what you will.

BTW, I'm sure there's an easier way to do that than manually. Please don't tell me for at least a few days, or I might lose it. I am but a mortal being, with a tattered heart and patience worn thin. (Or something.)

OKAY. It's been awhile since I did one of these posts. Time really flies. Gonna give this list my best shot, but as always, open to any who want to participate! (Also adding some new names in for the new year so this is sort of my "Gee I hope this is cool with you" super long tag list. If you'd rather not be tagged, just drop me a missive to that effect!)

@leithillustration @prettygoododds @rimeswithpurple @artsyunderstudy @blackberrysummerblog @hushed-chorus @nightimedreamersworld @best--dress @whatevertheweather @ileadacharmedlife @scribble-tier @imagineacoolusername @brilla-brilla-estrellita @alleycat0306 @angelsfalling16 @fatalfangirl @erzbethluna @tender-ministrations @anxious-m3ss @ebbpettier @bubble-gumhead @facewithoutheart @bazzybelle @theimpossibledemon @aristocratic-otter @mooncello @cutestkilla @annabellelux @ic3-que3n @j-nipper-95 @letraspal @messofthejess @onepintobean @palimpsessed @raenestee @supercutedinosaurs @theearlgreymage @thewholelemon @wellbelesbian @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @bookish-bogwitch @martsonmars @orange-peony @mostlymaudlin @stardustasincocaine @confused-bi-queer

Lastly, quick note/question. Tumblr seems to be remiss in informing me when I've been tagged in other posts. Is this a common issue?

59 notes · View notes

braveclementine · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 10

Warnings: None. (Will however be a 18+ reader book)

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

A week before all of you were supposed to be leaving for the Bahamas, you got another call from your dad.

Well, actually, he had been calling about four times every single day since the last time you had talked to him. But neither you nor your sister had bothered picking up when he called nor had you bothered replying to his messages. And the others had slowly gotten used to just ignoring the calls as well.

However, your father had spent nearly every hour sending in a call. It was interrupting the plans, and finally you picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Y/N." Your father's voice sounded relieved. "I've been trying to contact you for two weeks now."

"I know." You sighed. "But I really don't have the energy for another fight, okay?"

"Please, I want to be there for this, I want to be there for you. You're right. My and your mother never really wanted kids, but I still love you and Y/S/N. If I could do things over again, I would. Make more time for the both of you. Maybe then when. . . when your mother passed away I would've had. . . I'm sorry Y/N. I never meant to lash out at you or Y/S/N. It's just. . . it's so painful when your soulmate dies."

He sounded truly guilty and sad and apologetic. He really did sound sincere. But still, you couldn't just forget everything. How when you needed both him and your mother the most, they were busy with something 'more important'. And afterwards. . . Y/S/N still had a scar on her shoulder blade from that.

You let out a sigh. It had been a short period of time and now years had passed in between. Everyone deserved second chances. "You can come."

Sam looked up at those words.

"But I. . . I don't know if I'll have you walk me down the aisle." You finished. "There's a lot of mending between the both of us and also Y/S/N before I let you walk me down the aisle."

"That sounds fair." Your father sounded happy that you were giving him a second chance. "Where should I go? What should I do?"

"We're having the ceremony in the Bahamas." You said. "I can-"

Tony whipped the phone out of your hand, "Hello? Mr. Y/L/N? Yes, this is Tony Stark. One of the soulmates of your absolutely gorgeous daughter."

"What are you doing?" You hissed quietly, mortified. You really hoped Tony didn't say anything rude.

"I'm more than lenient to have a private jet fly out to your nearest airport and fly you to the Bahamas and also provide your stay for free. However, the minute that Y/N gets upset with you, you're on your own and all of the expenses fall right back on your head." Tony threatened. "The plane will be there in six hours, have a nice trip."

He hung up on my dad on my phone.

Stephen just shook his head, sighing.

"That was dramatic." You said, taking your phone from him.

"At least now he'll be on his best behavior." Tony said with a smirk, drawing you into his arms. "Oh I can't wait before you're ours."

You smiled a little, pecking Tony on the lips. "The feeling is very mutual."

"Have you decided whose going to be first?" Nat asked.

"First?" You questioned, turning out of Tony's arms to face her.

"Sure." Nat said with a shrug. "I mean, with so many soulmates, you can only lose your virginity to one of them."

You blushed scarlet. Sam just stared at Nat while Stephen turned his back to her, putting a hand to his head like he was frustrated. Tony just snorted. Clint poked his head out from the vent.

"I mean, sure you're going to bond with all of them in one night, but I don't think it would be a good idea for you to start with a super solider or a God for your first." Nat explained, "You should go with someone smaller in size. Or at least, not genetically enhanced."

"Damn." Sam said, shaking his head, "Guess you're losing it to Clint first."

"Oi!" Clint protested, falling out of the vent. "Why am I the smallest?"

"It's commonly known that black males have the biggest dicks." Sam said, raising an eyebrow.

Stephen walked over to Tony, putting his hands over his ears before dragging him out of the room. You were both mortified and amused at the conversation.

"Hey." Sam said, shrugging his shoulders as Clint scoffed, "Thor, Loki, Bucky, Steve, and I are out already from being enhanced. T'Challa, Rhodey, and Fury are black. Tony and Stephen already lost it to each other. Which leaves you. The white virgin."

Clint just stared at Sam for a moment and then grinned, "Yes! I get Y/N first!"

Sam just pursed his lips.

And then the floor dropped underneath you and you landed in Stephen's arms in the elevator.

"Well, hello there." You said before kissing his cheek. "How are you?"

Stephen sighed, "My poor babies had to listen to that conversation."

Tony blushed slightly at the nickname. So did you for that matter.

You giggled. "Well thank you for protecting our ears."

You might've added 'daddy' to the end of that sentence, but you didn't want to tease him anymore than they already were. You wait until all of you were properly bonded before you started teasing them relentlessly.

Stephen, Tony, and you ended up going to the New York Sanctorum. Stephen gave you a full tour or the rather large building. You even stepped into one of the climate portals for a short amount of time, though you didn't stay for long.

It was very interesting, seeing how many magical items there were in the different glass cases.

Tony kept trying to touch stuff, being the tinkerer that he was, but Stephen kept slapping his hands away from the stuff, before finally threatening to tie them behind his back. You giggled at the playful banter.

"STRANGE!" A voice shouted through the Sanctorum.

"WONG!" Stephen shouted back in the same exact tone.

"Ah, there you are." Wong said, climbing the stairs. Wong was descended from Tibetan Monks, which I found fascinating. Especially as Tibet was hidden from the world as China tried to pretend there was no Tibet.

China refuses to acknowledge the three T's: Taiwan, Tibet, and Tiananmen Square. They like to pretend that Taiwan and Tibet are still under their rule. And then also like to pretend that the Tiananmen Square massacre never took place.

"I was hoping that you could come to Kamar-Taj and assist with the training of some new recruits." Wong said, glancing over to us, looking apologetic.

"Yes, of course." Stephen said. "Tony, Y/N, would you like to come and visit?"

"Sure." Tony said.

"Um, if you don't think we'd be intruding." You said.

"Not at all." Wong said.

"Where is Kamar-Taj?" You asked as they led you down the stairs to where Stephen had shown the Sanctorum's connected with the others. Wong started to open up the one into Kamar-Taj.

"Tibet." He answered.

Ah, of course. Made sense.

Once you stepped through the portal, Stephen and Wong led the way up another flight of stairs and through some dim hallways lit with torches until you reached a courtyard like area. There were several rows of students there to learn. Wong, Stephen, and another female teacher quickly spread out amongst the others.

You and Tony quickly sat out of the way next to each other. He wrapped his arms around you as the two of you watched Stephen teach.

"He's so bloody handsome." You muttered.

"Isn't he just?" Tony sighed wistfully. "Hey, are you sure that you're okay with your dad coming to your wedding ceremony?"

You were silent for a moment and then replied with, "I thought it would be fair to give him a second chance. If he screws up, well we weren't exactly rich so it'll certainly be a bit of a pain in the ass for him if he, you know, screws up. I don't know. I'm more afraid for Y/S/N being around my father. She was the one who was more involved in his bad period because she was home more. I don't know though. . . I haven't had my soulmates for more than a year yet. And he and my mother were married for a pretty long time before she passed away."

"How did she die?" Tony asked softly.

"She was at one of those parades, I don't even remember what it was for. Some guy drove his semi truck through with the intent to kill. She just happened to be one of those victims."

"Sorry." Tony said softly.

"What about you? Parents, I mean?" You questioned.

"I grew up thinking they died in a car crash. Turns out HYDRA sent Barnes after them because my father had something they wanted. Super soldier serum vials I think. Bucky killed them."

"How can you stand behind in the same room as him?" You questioned.

"Well, it took a bit of self control and listening. But I knew it was HYDRA in his head, not him himself. Eventually I forgave him. He had been beating himself up over it for so long. The Bucky Steve knew, the one you know, he wouldn't hurt a fly. It's a good thing Shuri was able to help him."

You nodded, "Good. It's already pretty awkward between Loki and Phil."

"Ah well, the difference there is Loki actually killed Coulson." Tony said. "Although admittedly, he was also being mind manipulated by an alien so there's some leniency."

You were quiet for a moment, "You don't think it was a mistake? Inviting my dad?"

"No." Tony said quietly as we watched Stephen create a glowing sword down below us. "My father was also fairly absent in my life. I wish I could've given him a second chest."

You turned your body so that you could hug him from the front.

A few moments later, you heard Stephen's voice behind you, "Well don't you two just look adorable."

You turned to see him standing there, sliding his sling ring off his finger and into his pocket. You got to your feet, barreling into him for a hug. Stephen wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. "Hey there sweetheart. Ready to head home?"

You nodded. You heard Stephen call out a good-bye to Wong before the three of you headed back to New York.

Upon walking back up the stairs though, Stephen flung an arm out to stop you from walking. He moved slightly to hide you.

Peeking around him, you saw a slightly handsome African American man standing there.

"Mordo, what are you doing here?" Stephen questioned. You noticed his sling ring was back on his finger. Tony had his Iron repulsor gloves on, hands raised slightly if he needed to shoot.

The man that Stephen had called Mordo crossed his arms over his chest, "You know what I'm here for, Stephen."

"And you won't get-" Stephen said firmly.

"I wasn't asking." Mordo said, shaking his head, pulling out an electric sword.

"Tony get her out." Stephen said, taking up a defensive position almost immediately as Mordo charged.

"Stephen!" You shouted as Tony wrapped an arm around your waist, kicking off to go through the glass ceiling. However, all that happened was you ended up flying through a portal which put the both of you in front of Mordo. Tony quickly shoved you out of the way.

You went sprawling across the marble floor as he ducked one of the swings of Mordo's sword. Stephen lashed out with a glowing whip as you scrambled to your feet.

You were quick in pulling out your phone.

Y/N 🥖: SOS Sanctorum. Angry Wizard

God 1 🔨🌩: On our way

God 2 💚: Portal out

Thor suddenly smashed through the front doors, sending a streaking bolt of lightning towards the dark skinned wizard. He deflected rather quickly and you dropped to the floor to avoid being electrocuted.

Steve and Bucky were next through the doors. Steve threw his shield, which got deflected by a mirror. Steve quickly ducked to avoid being decapitated by his own shield.

Bucky didn't dare start shooting, instead trying to get to you. But Mordo portaled him to who knew where.

"Bucky!" You shouted as the portal closed up.

A few other wizards started to jump down, fighting against the others.

Suddenly, you felt a cold feeling wash over you. "Shh, not a sound." Loki's voice whispered in your ear, "I'm cloaking you. We're invisible. Start making your way towards the door."

You couldn't see Loki and you had to assume that he was right there with you as you started to walk towards the door. You hoped Bucky was safe, wherever he was, and you hoped that the others would get out of this okay.

"Where'd she go?" Mordo shouted.

Was he after you? Why?

"Faster." Loki's voice was urgent in your voice and you started running, hoping that you weren't making any noise as you did so.

The doors slammed shut right before you could've gotten out of them and you heard Loki curse.

You reached around blindly, grabbing his hand, starting to drag him back towards where Stephen and Tony were still fighting Mordo. He tugged on your hand, trying to get you to slow down.

Steve and Nat were fighting another four wizards, while Thor was slowly but surely taking down the six that were against him.

You dragged Loki carefully, but quickly past Stephen and Tony, back down the stairs. Loki sped up once he realized that you had an escape plan in line. You quickly opened up the door to Kamar-Taj and stepped through.

Loki lifted the spell immediately and you could see him there. He had a slight scratch across one of his cheeks, but though it was red, it wasn't bleeding.

He gripped your hand tighter as the two of you ran through the building. "Wong?" You shouted. "Wong?"

Wong approached very soon, "Y/N?" He stopped short upon seeing Loki, "Where's Stephen and Tony?"

"They're back in the New York Sanctorum with Thor and Steve. Mordo is attacking them but he brought a few Wizards with him and Stephen is the only magician there." You explained through quick puffs of breath.

Wong nodded, "I need you two to stay here." He called out to a few wizards who all got ready, lifting off a bunch of staffs that you assumed were something like Mordo's glowing lightsaber stick thing and Wong hurried the way the two of you had come.

He left a few other wizards there for your protection in case their was another onslaught of fighters. You weren't sure if that was normal, but you felt to sick with worry to care about it.

"Are you alright?" Loki asked as he led you to an area so that the two of you could sit down.

"Physically." You answered, "But where did he send Bucky!? What if. . . what if sent him to a volcano or the middle of the ocean!? What if-" Your voice choked off at the end and you crumpled forward to cry into Loki's shoulder.

"It's alright Y/N, it's okay. You'd know if Bucky was in danger." Loki said softly. "The fact that there is nothing happening to your soulmate bond that is linked to him means that he is not feeling any pain, nor is he dead. Those are both good things."

You nodded as your tears subsided. "No pain and no death."

"Exactly."

"The others will be okay, right?" You asked, needing reassurance.

"I'm sure. They managed to survive everything else before."

"Why did he want me?"

"I have no idea. Probably because he would see you as. . . a way to get to Stephen." Loki explained. "I'm afraid having the Avengers as soulmates is going to put a rather large target on your back my Queen. But we'll protect you with everything we have."

You kissed Loki's cheek before settling into his arms while you waited. It seemed like an eternity, but only fifteen, maybe twenty minutes later, Wong came back with his group, Stephen, Tony, Steve, Thor, and Nat following behind.

You leapt to your feet, rushing over to Stephen. "Are you okay. You're bleeding. Can you find Bucky? Everyone's okay, right?"

Your questions were rushed as you grabbed a tissue and started dabbing at the cut lines along Stephen's cheek.

"He bleeds all the time." Tony sighed, "It's his trademark to come back from a fight with at least three bloody scratches on his face."

Your lips twitched a little while Stephen rolled his eyes. "Everyone's alright Y/N. And it will take some time, but I think with the help of FRIDAY and a few magic tricks, we should be able to find Bucky within an hour of two. Depends on where he ended up."

You nodded frantically as you finished dabbing at Stephen's scratches.

Steve looked absolutely terrible. He wasn't hurt, but it was obvious that Bucky disappearing had done a number on him. You attended him next, wrapping your arms tightly around his chest. He hugged you back, almost as tightly.

"We'll find him Steve." You murmured. "He's going to be okay."

Steve just nodded, his cheek brushing with yours as he did so.

Stephen ushered all of you back to the Sanctorum before portaling you all back to Avengers tower. Once there, Tony got to work on using FRIDAY to see if she could use all of the cameras in the world to help narrow down potential spots that Bucky might be.

While that was happening, Pietro had called the girl named Makkari, and they both decided to run around their respective hemispheres and see if they could locate Bucky and help save time.

You felt utterly useless, sitting on the couch next to Rhodey who had an arm around your shoulder, fingers softly moving up and down your arm in a comforting motion.

Your leg kept bouncing up and down in anxiety before Clint finally pulled you up off the couch to take you to the kitchen.

"I can't eat, I feel sick." You muttered.

"Well, you're going to have to eat." Clint said. "Buck will be fine, you'll see. Now eat, it wouldn't do to get sick before our wedding now, would it?"

You managed a small smile with Clint's enthusiasm and persistence. "I just. . . sometimes I wish I could locate where my soulmates were."

"That would be nice, wouldn't it?" Clint asked, moving around the kitchen and then pausing, "I don't actually really know how to make anything so. . ."

You giggled, feeling just a little bit lighter. Maybe Clint was just trying to distract you, but it was working.

"We should make dinner for everyone." You decided.

"But that's like forty people." Clint said. "We should just order pizza."

You rolled your eyes, "I actually already had preparations ready for dinner for tonight."

You opened up the refrigerator, pulling out several large, blue glass bowls with plastic wrap over them.

"Oh? What are you making?" Clint asked in interest as you started to preheat the oven and undo the plastic wrap.

You smirked at him evilly, "Spicy Chicken legs."

⬅️➡️

23 notes · View notes