#i dare you to stay: chapter 16

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (9/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex scene with Alys from the past, smut, the angst, description of a drug overdose, murder by shot in the head, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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After everything that had happened, according to his suspicions, all hell broke loose: Daemon's anger over the fact that they had dared to kidnap and imprison his daughter was great. Helaena, Daeron and his mother stayed in the house almost all the time under the supervision of their bodyguards, so that the unpleasant consequences of what was happening would not reach them.

Daemon's gangsters tried to forcibly take over what was rightfully theirs: brothels, clubs, restaurants, however, they were met with resistance, as they had no intention of moving from their place and giving them anything.

The comical thing was that, although the law was on his side, Daemon could not use the help of the police: their discovery of how widespread the money laundering and drug smuggling was would have given them all life imprisonment, and the premises would have been seized by the State for as long as the prosecution considered it good for the case.

For the first time in years there were real shootings and on several occasions, had it not been for his reflexes, a bullet would have pierced his arm or leg when he was just walking to the car park or leaving the club.

Despite what common sense would dictate, he didn't feel terrified: on the contrary, some part of him wanted a challenge, a release, anything that would make him stop thinking about what he had done to her.

He couldn't forgive himself for showing her weakness, for crying in her presence like a small child, for begging her forgiveness only to find after a while that he missed her, that he had suffered through their separation and the fact that he had lost her.

One part of him wanted to forget her but the other ached to prove to her that in some fucked up way he could change.

To become a different kind of monster, one that wouldn't devour her, but protect her.

He planned what he wanted to do with meticulous care, as if he were going off to war. He knew that Larys Strong was preoccupied with what was going on, thinking they were focused on Daemon, he meanwhile was lavelling between them, trying to pick up customers from both sides.

He was like a disgusting snake whose head he wanted to trample on, but mostly because he dared to threaten her.

He wanted to make sure that this piece of shit would disappear from the face of the earth.

He initiated the only person in his industry he trusted, namely Alys, into his plan.

"Why?" She asked, smoking a cigarette with him by the wide-open window in her flat, sitting in her smart black shirt and trousers, her luscious green irises staring at him anxiously, letting out a mouthful of smoke.

He took a drag, looking blankly out of the window, at the townhouse across the street, seeing her face then as she lay numb in the toilet, and then as she lay in his bed, after he gave her the sleeping drug himself.

He pressed his lips together at the thought, feeling an unpleasant constriction in his chest indicating that he was remorseful.

"He was the one who gave my niece the rape pill." He sighed, tilting his head back, spreading himself more comfortably in the chair with a loud creak of wood.

Alys stared at him in silence for a long time, her cigarette slowly burning out between her fingers.

"I met her. Your niece. A few weeks ago in the Red Sun pub." She hummed, taking another drag, not taking her eyes off him.

He knew she had noticed that something flashed across his face at the mention of her – involuntarily he turned his head away and swallowed hard, clenching his free hand into a fist.

Alys chuckled under her breath, blowing smoke out of her mouth straight at him as she spoke her next words.

"Daemon showed her what you did to Robert."

He stared ahead, fiddling with the packet of cigarettes lying on the table in front of him, feeling his heart in his throat.

So that's how she found out, he thought with regret.

"How did she react?" He asked involuntarily.

"The poor girl was in shock. Her uncle turned out to be less understanding than she might have thought." She muttered, leaning forward, resting her body weight on her elbows.

He couldn't look at her, afraid she would see what he so desperately wanted to hide from her.

"Was that her name that you accidentally blurted out then?" She asked, making him feel an unpleasant squeeze in his throat and a burning wetness under his eyelids.

The prove that she was right.

The nights with Alys had been simple: they'd taken care of business and then fucked. They knew they were both broken: what they were doing had warped and deformed them as individuals, and by giving each other intimacy they were simultaneously comforting each other in their misery.

"– fuck –" He breathed out, tilting his head back, his hands clenched in her hair so tightly that he heard her hiss from between his thighs. Her nails dug warningly into his hip, signalling him not to overdo it.

He couldn't believe how good she was at sucking cock, with what ease her tongue rolled around it's delicate, pink head while clamping her lips so that she squeezed it with each of his thrusts deep into her warm throat.

He was aroused by her directness, by the fact that she only wanted to satisfy and be satisfied, exactly as he did.

"– stop – 'm close –" He exhaled as he felt his erection begin to throb vigorously and twitch deep inside her mouth, causing her to let him out with a loud, perverted click of her saliva.

His manhood was all red and pulsing, glistening from his precum and her wetness, pleasant warmth in his belly.

Alys wasted no time in pulling her black lace panties off her legs, allowing him to turn her onto her stomach as usual. He positioned himself between her thighs, spreading her soft, full buttocks like a fruit, sinking into her warmth with a loud sigh of relief.

Only then, when he couldn't see her face, he was able to close his eyes and sink into his most sickening, dark fantasy.

As he slid slowly into her, in his imagination he could see the terrified, hot look in her eyes, her sweet lips wide open, her soft, fleshy cunt clenched around his swollen erection, throbbing with longing, making him run out of breath, her hands simultaneously pushing him away and holding him close.

"– Aemond – no, no, we can't – we can't –" His niece mewled in his mind, whimpering softly and innocently, afraid that someone would hear them, that her brothers would find out what he was doing to her, how greedily he was opening her slick walls on his fat cock again and again, unable to stop.

"– oh baby –" He mumbled.

He heard another sound too, a lower one – Alys moaned feeling him involuntarily quicken his pace, thrusting deep between her leaking, convulsing folds. Frustrated, he clamped his hand in her hair, pressing her face harder against the duvet, not wanting to hear her now.

He had never kissed Alys or any other woman. When they tried to do this, he felt only disgust and turned his head away – the act seemed to him too tender, too intimate, and on top of that, it reminded him of her, the taste of her lips, her warm breath on his face, her sweet scent.

For this reason, too, he never stayed up all night or went to sleep with the women he fucked: their arms, their embrace was not the one he longed for, their words, their skin, their fingers, their faces, their hair, everything was different, different, different, foreign, distant, repulsive.

Alys knew.

She felt it subconsciously.

"– are you thinking about her now? – " She breathed out, making him involuntarily bite his lower lip and groan throatily, his hips began to slam against her ass faster and faster, bringing him closer with each thrust to fulfilment deep inside her.

She didn't know her identity, but she knew she existed and that he wasn't able to forget about her.

"– would you like her to be so fucking wet for you? – to take you in so easily? – for her little pussy to clench around your cock? – to come inside her? –" She exhaled, and he groaned, imagining that she wanted it, that she craved his cum deep inside her pretty, innocent body, slamming between his niece's thighs like a mad.

"– u-uncle – uncle, uncle, uncle, oh God, oh my fucking God, please –" He heard her vulnerable whines, feeling a squeeze in his testicles, hot wave of pleasure ran through his lower abdomen and stomach.

"– f-fuck, Rhaenys –" He mumbled and came with a loud gasp, feeling her spasming cunt begin to clench against his twitching erection, along with him going through the wonderful relief that shook his body.

He froze, panting loudly and opened his eyes only to see that Alys was grinning wildly.

She was proud of herself.

She loved to torment him.

"– Rhaenys –" She said after him, intrigued, without shadow of regret or pain on her face. "– what a pretty name –"

"– 'm sorry – forget about it –" He mouthed, completely panicked, sliding out of her with a loud click of their moisture, feeling his heart pounding like a mad in fear.

He thanked God that it wasn't her real name.

"– why? – tell me more about her – it's touching in some way that you are so deeply in love with her –" She hummed, turning onto her back.

He quickly zipped up his trousers, for some reason unable to look at her bare body now, furious at her remark.

"Fuck no." He growled.

Alys twisted in her place, surprised.

"Aemond."

"I don't want to talk about it. That's not why I came here." He said in frustration, grabbing his Tshirt, putting it aggressively over his head.

She sighed heavily, leaning her back against the bed frame, looking at him intently.

"You are adorable when you are mad."

He looked at her, seeing in her eyes that she knew she'd hit the nail on the head and ran his hand over his face.

"Have you fulfilled your fantasies with her? Then, during your father's birthday. After all, he invited your whole family." She sneered, cocking her head.

He shuddered, looking at her shocked and horrified, feeling like a little boy caught in the act.

"Don't be ridiculous. If you don't want to help me with what I came to you with, just say so." He hissed too quickly, too angrily and too helplessly, and the corner of Alys' mouth twitched in a grin.

"Did you stop talking to her when her mother married Daemon through a conflict of interest or because you knew that as an uncle you shouldn't moan your niece's name during your climax?" She asked, and he felt his lips part in a shuddering, uneven breath.

"You betrayed that poor little girl even though she gave you everything you wanted."

Her cold, mocking words stayed with him all night: she didn't give him a clear answer as to whether she would help him, but she let him know that she didn't intend to interrupt him.

She had no love for Larys Strong and would benefit from his disappearance herself.

Although the plan was different, more complicated and sublime, he drove straight to Heavenly Beach.

You betrayed that poor little girl even though she gave you everything you wanted.

When it was all over, he decided that his success had been determined by the effect of the surprise: when he walked into Larys's office, he greeted him with a smile, standing up, apparently wanting to offer him something to drink and ask what he was coming to him with.

The bodyguard didn't even think to take his gun away from him.

He was just his grandfather's faithful dog, nothing more.

And yet, when he pointed it at his head and simply fired, shooting him right in the forehead, Larys seemed surprised and staggered backwards, falling numbly like a heavy wooden puppet to the floor.

He fled through the back exit, the door by which the bar staff were leaving for a cigarette, and although he hoped that one of the shots he heard behind him among the screams would reach him, it did not.

Apart from the shattered rear window of the car and the wrath of his grandfather, no other consequences of his act reached him.

"Do you know what you did? Larys was filling our pockets with money."

"And also emptied them." He hissed, watching as Otto paced around the room while he sat in his chair, pleased with himself as never before.

For some reason he felt a sense of pride.

"You are a fool. You did it out of a private desire for revenge. You acted rashly and thoughtlessly. You have failed me for the last time." He said in a manner from which he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Aegon will take over the whole business, not you."

When he finally returned to his flat he felt rage and relief, disappointment and euphoria at the same time, feeling like he had completely lost his mind.

Vhagar watched him from across the room, seeing him throw things off tables and cupboards, afraid to approach him, her tail tucked under her belly.

He had killed him for her.

He sacrificed himself for her.

He lost his inheritance for her.

And she was not with him.

He felt in that moment that he loved her and hated her at the same time.

The dreams in which he killed Larys again and again came back to him every night, making him wake up drenched in cold sweat: he saw in them how he gouged out his eyes, how he cut off his limbs before her eyes, listening to her screams and her cries, her pleas for him to stop.

By having his grandfather reduce his role to the bare minimum of collecting money and handing over goods, he could finally concentrate on his studies during the day. To his surprise, sinking into the thick textbooks she had brought him was liberating, as if a new, previously unknown part of the world had opened up to him.

He was going to attend the exam.

He hoped to see her there.

He filed the documents in person and, as he was leaving the University, he spotted one of Daemon's bodyguards smoking a cigarette in the car park from a distance.

They had been watching her the whole time.

Good, he thought.

He knew that if anyone saw him there Daemon would take her out immediately and that was why he had to be more careful.

On the day of the exam, he felt like a small child: even though he knew what he had to prepare for and had gone through specific chapters many times, standing with a group of young people peering at his face and scar he felt alien, even though he hoped it would be different.

Even when he tried, he couldn't fit in, blend in with the crowd.

To his surprise, he found the exam itself trivial: too simple for his taste. He recognised that he had surely made some mistake when reading the questions, that there was something tricky about them, that he would make a fool of himself.

However, reading what he had written again and again he thought he had given the correct answers and just gave up, walking out of the room, dismayed and disappointed.

He felt like he had been pierced by lightning when he saw her standing in the corridor, looking at him with her mouth wide open. He felt a pleasant heat in his chest at the thought that she had come, for him, just for him, and then he looked to the side and saw who was standing next to her.

His hands clenched into a fist as her ex-boyfriend reached out to him, fumbling some sort of goof about how nice it was to meet him, pretending to be open and welcoming.

His niece saw immediately the danger that lurked behind his furious expression.

"Thank you, Robb. Will you leave us alone?" She asked him in a trembling voice.

He thought she had only taken him with her for safety, as she was afraid to come to him alone, and affectionately concluded that she was a wise girl.

"Are you sure?" Her ex asked her, making him feel his jaw clench in rage.

"Didn't you hear what she said?" He sneered harshly, throwing him a look full of boredom and disapproval, wanting to show him that he was losing patience.

He had done his part and there was certainly nothing more between them, so he could fuck off.

Robb clearly didn't like the tone of his voice.

"I'm not talking to you, mate." He said in a way he didn't like, but all it took was a movement in his direction for his niece to stand in front of him, looking straight into his face with her big eyes, her cheeks rosy with emotion.

"That's enough." She said. "Aemond is having a hard time. Forgive him. Sometimes he doesn't know how to behave. He won't hurt me. Am I wrong?"

He swallowed hard, looking away with his heart beating fast, feeling the hot shame spread across his lower abdomen.

He won't hurt me.

When Robb finally left them alone she shook her head with an expression on her face as if she regretted coming to see him at all and turned, startling him by going the other way.

"It was a mistake."

"– no – no, wait –" He moved behind her, immediately grabbing her arm, pulling her closer, as close as possible, smelling her body and her hair again, the scent of vanilla filling his lungs.

He let his hand embraced her waist, pressing his forehead into her temple, wanting to take refuge in her, feeling thirsty for her presence, her words, her warm gaze full of understanding.

"– are you two together again? –" He whispered involuntarily, wanting to be sure that this bastard was no longer a threat to her, that he didn't have to worry about him hurting her again.

He swallowed hard when he heard her cold laughter full of frustration, feeling a stinging discomfort in his stomach.

"– do you want to tell me how you know who I'm dating and when? –" She asked drily.

Why did she avoid answering?

Why did she speak in this way?

"– do you love him? –" He muttered, and she shook her head, furious, trying to push him away.

"– I hope you'll pass – let me go – let me go, I said –" She growled, but he clamped his hands on her back and snuggled her body into his, sinking his nose into her wonderfully soft, warm cheek, feeling how his erection reacted with an aggressive, joyful pulsing to her closeness.

How was he ever going to let anyone else have her?

How would he ever get over it?

There was no way back now.

"– I killed him for you –" He whispered and felt her stop resisting him, her whole body frozen in stillness.

He sighed quietly, leaning in, his lips swollen with desire as he began to place wet, hot, lingering kisses on her face, her jaw, her neck with every word he spoke.

"– I killed him because he threatened you – because he wanted to hurt you – I want you to be safe –"

He felt her hands tighten on the material of his shirt as a quiet cry left her lips, and he, feeling an involuntary desire to protect her from this suffering, cuddled her face into his neck, wanting to hide her, to bury her deep within himself, to be her stone fortress in which she could hide.

"– I'm not pregnant –" She whispered in a way from which he froze.

There was no satisfaction or relief in her words.

She was sad.

This revelation, the thought that some part of her wanted this child as much as he did, caused his full lips to place a tender, drawn-out kiss on her temple.

"– I know – the doctor told me – we just have to try again –"

We just have to try again.

He couldn't believe how easy it had been for him to say that, to accept that he was sick, that he had just told his own niece that they should fuck again, because that way they would perhaps have the baby they so wanted.

His life had reached such a level of absurdity that it no longer seemed impossible to him.

He heard her draw in a loud breath, shocked by what had left his mouth.

"– do you hear yourself? – after what you did to me? – after how –" She mouthed, choking on her own tears, however, instead of pushing him away she snuggled into him tighter, clasping her hands on his back.

She sought her comfort in him, in her tormentor, because he was the only one who understood what she was going through.

There was something simultaneously beautiful and tragic about this, he thought.

He had destroyed her.

"– shhh – I'm here, baby –" He hushed her, stroking her hair and her back as if she were a small child, pressing his face against her temple, wanting to show her that he was there for her and that this would never change.

His words written on a piece of paper then, in the hospital.

I will always watch over you.

They both flinched and moved away from each other when her phone began to ring and it appeared that her father's bodyguard who had been waiting for her had begun to grow impatient.

"– n-no – no, I'm on my way, I was talking to the professor – I'm sorry –" She muttered with difficulty, terrified, making him feel like locking her in his embrace and never letting her go.

She was so sad, so tired, so vulnerable.

He knew, he felt, that they would both experience true relief, true rest only in each other's arms, in the tight union of their hot, sweaty, naked bodies.

"– wait a few minutes before I go so they don't see you –" She said, leaving him alone, not bestowing a single glance on him.

And then her ex-boyfriend humiliated her in front other students, saying some bullshit about her lack of self-respect as he watched them from afar.

As soon as she was out of his sight he walked up to him – Robb looked at him horrified and took a step back, wanting to run away.

"I feel like smashing your skull for what you dared to say, but I won't do it for her sake. You will never speak to her that way again. What's more, you won't speak to her at all, or I'll make your face no longer beautiful. Do you understand?" He asked, and Robb nodded quickly, looking at him with big eyes.

"One ill-considered word from you. One look from her colleagues that I don't like and that reveals to me that you told someone about it, and your life will become very, very difficult. Mate." He sneered and sidestepped him, heading for his car, seeing that his niece and her father's bodyguard had driven off.

When he got back to his flat he thought he felt strangely calm: the thought that she had come to see him, that she still cared about what would happen to him, who he would be filled him with contentment and satisfaction.

He was not indifferent to her.

She could not hate him.

Vhagar, though uneasy in his presence for days, that evening approached him of her own accord wagging her tail. Though he did not usually do so, he allowed her to jump onto his bed, his broad hand stroking her large head. She licked his fingers, sniffing them beforehand with curiosity and he thought with a smile that she had smelt her scent.

"I saw her today, Vhagar. I saw my little girl." He hummed, scratching her behind the ear, letting her big furry body lie beside him on the bedding.

And then she called to him, furious and indignant, demanding an explanation.

Something about the way she spoke made him think she was charming when she was angry, surprising him with her directness.

However, this made him the one who wrote to her every day from then on, sending her pictures of Vhagar, and although she did not write back to him, he was happy.

He knew that she read his messages and thus he was able to convey his feelings to her, making her realise that there was not a moment that he did not think or miss her.

And then he found an envelope in his letter box with the University's logo on it, and for the first time in years he felt an almost childlike excitement as he ran up the stairs to his flat, thinking that maybe things were finally going to change in his life.

He felt his hands all trembling with emotion as he pulled a piece of paper from the inside and began to read, his heart in his throat when it became clear that his dream had come true.

He had passed.

He got into University.

He didn't know why he called her right away, walking back and forth across his room, smiling like a fool because he had made it, made it, made it.

"Aemond, you can't call me. Is something wrong?"

"I got in. I passed the exam." He said immediately, feeling euphoria, feeling joy, feeling satisfaction.

He wanted to experience it only with her, because only she could understand him, only her words, her appreciation, her joy could give him what he wanted.

"I'm proud of you. I really am." She confessed finally making him feel like bursting into tears, feeling for a moment he ran out of words, his heart pounding like crazy.

"Let's meet to celebrate. Please."

"No."

"Just for a moment. In a public place, in a restaurant, in a café. Wherever you want, wherever you feel safe." He begged, needing her now, her warm gaze, her hand clasped over his, her closeness, her, her, her.

"I can't, Aemond. You know I can't. I will always support you, including about your studies, but after what has happened I can't trust you." She confessed in a trembling voice.

He swallowed hard, feeling with shame that he had turned all red with emotion, and nodded his head, thinking with despair that he understood what she meant, feeling empty.

"– forgive me – I had no right to ask you to do this – it was a mistake resulting from my selfishness – thank you for everything –" He said.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled out in pain, but he hung up, or she would have heard his uneven, heavy breath, the effect of the tears that ran down his face and of which he was so ashamed.

How could he have been so naive to think that she would forgive him?

Would he forgive her if she did the same to him?

He tore up the card the University had sent him, thinking with regret that the sight of him in that building every day would bring back memories she wanted to forget.

He decided that there was no point in her seeing him, that he should respect her request, even though she did not at all want him to give up his dreams for her.

She was more understanding than he deserved.

Although he had never, ever done so, that evening he pulled out from his cupboard a syringe with the drug liquid he had given her that day when she had come to him at his request, wanting to help him.

He only used this narcotic in small amounts when he needed to fall asleep quickly, but this time he wasn't sure he wanted to wake up at all.

He squeezed his forearm with a special rubber band to make it easier to find the right vein under his skin and jabbed the needle into it, letting more of the drug into his system than ever before.

He thought he wanted to know how she felt then.

He imagined her terror, the one when, feeling him still deep inside her, she realised that he had tricked her, betrayed her, that he would do what he wanted with her and her body.

He felt like crying when everything around him blurred, when Vhagar began to bark, nudging him with her wet nose, licking his face. He, however, was only able to breathe, thinking that he was so monstrously tired, his body numb and heavy, as if it weighed hundreds of tons.

It seemed to him that it might have been months or even years before his mind began to awaken: the indistinct light of the lamps around him blinded him and irritated him at the same time, the loud beeping at his ear drove him mad, the stinging discomfort in his wrist seemed unnatural to him. He muttered in displeasure, twisting around, unable to fully open his eyes or rise, feeling dulled and frazzled.

"– no – lie down –" He heard his mother's voice, who had apparently risen from her chair, her familiar hand touching his arm. "– it's okay –"

"– what's going on? –" He choked out, feeling unpleasant anxiety and discomfort, everything around him seemed to be spinning.

"– you overdosed, Aemond –"

He spent the next few days in hospital, trying to recover under the watchful care of his mother and his sister.

He didn't know why he felt disappointment at the news that neither his grandfather nor his older brother planned to visit him, thinking he had acted like a small child merely seeking attention, why he thought they would care about his condition.

He didn't think much of it though, because as soon as he unlocked his phone, he saw three messages from her.

He had no idea what he was supposed to do, what to reply to her words, proof that she still cared about him, even though he didn't deserve it.

That same evening, when his mother was long gone from his side, she called him, making him feel euphoric and terrified at the same time. When he answered and put the phone to his ear he was silent, his heart deep in his throat.

"How are you feeling?" She asked softly, her voice full of uncertainty.

He swallowed hard, feeling somehow touched by her behaviour, by the fact that she wanted to talk to him despite what he had done to her.

"Exactly as I deserve." He confessed with shame.

"Did you… really want to do this?" She muttered in a trembling voice. He shook his head and laughed under his breath.

"No. I wanted to see how you felt that day."

Something in his words, in the way he said them made her draw in a loud breath.

"Your suffering is not my desire, Aemond. You hurt me, but I don't want revenge. I just want… to stop feeling this unbearable pain in my heart that I have felt in my chest for eight years."

So many unspoken words and feelings slipped through their fingers.

"I regret it so much. I told my grandfather that I didn't want him to involve you, but he said that if we didn't, someone else would want to take advantage of Daemon's weakness for you. And I believed him. I thought that Larys will actually try to do something to you again, but only now do I understand that it was a simple lie that I easily accepted to justify myself. Fuck, I'm so ashamed, baby, I really am."

He mouthed with difficulty, burying his face in his hand, feeling warm tears of shame run down his cheeks, trying to calm his heavy, ragged breath.

"My father took everything from me. I did these fucked-up things to other people for nothing. I mutilated them for nothing. The only thing he left me is the property by the sea, the same one where I lost my eye, as if he had made a mockery of me. I was so lost. I still am."

She was silent for a moment, as if wondering what to respond to his words.

"What do you want, Aemond? Truly. Be honest."

He swallowed hard, feeling that this was one of the most important moments of his life and he couldn't fuck it up.

"I want to study and see you once in a while. In a public place, so that you feel safe."

"And that's it? What about your family? About your business?"

"My grandfather limited my influence and responsibilities after I shot Larys without his knowledge. He no longer trusts me and doesn't assign me important tasks."

She fell silent again, making him feel like he was going mad with the uncertainty, his heart in his throat.

"The University Library." She said finally, and he grunted quietly, trying to calm himself down.

"I don't understand."

"We can meet in the University Library."

"Really?" He asked hopefully, feeling his heart beat harder, hot with excitement.

"Only there and for a short time. Once in a while. If I find out you did something to hurt me or my family, you'll never see me again."

The next day she agreed with him that they would meet in a side area of the library: it was nearing the holidays and most people were either outside or in the main reading room, so she decided that no one should notice or bother them there.

Fifteen minutes in which she was going to help him prepare for his first class, nothing more.

Nevertheless, in his mind it was his chance to prove himself and get things right.

To regain her trust.

He wanted to buy her a bouquet of flowers, however, standing in front of them he had no idea which ones to choose.

What if she doesn't like cut flowers, only ones in a pot?

Should he even hand it to her in the library?

He ran his hand over his face thinking that his deliberations were idiotic and only showed how desperate he was.

Then, however, he decided that instead of a flower he would buy her a strawberry lollipop: since she used strawberry gloss she must have liked the taste and could at least eat it, and he could hide it in the pocket of his trousers.

With this little gift, he turned up at the agreed time, feeling like an excited little boy, all hot and frisky with emotion. Indeed, he spotted her in the back of one of the rooms, sitting on the floor on special large pillows, leaning against the wall with a volume in her hand, bookcases all around her.

She had chosen a place where they would not be seen.

She flinched at the sight of him, her shoulders raised in a defensive gesture, as if frightened by his presence.

"Hi." He mouthed, not knowing what more he could say, his heart pounding like mad.

She blinked and sighed loudly, as if trying to calm herself, her gaze at once warm and watchful.

"Hi."

He walked slowly over to her and pulled off his jacket, laying it on the windowsill, sitting down next to her on one of the cushions, into which he literally sank because of how soft it was.

"I brought you my notes from first year. Read them, if you can't decipher something, I'll try to guess what I wrote. They'll come in handy for you before semester exams." She said immediately, as if afraid of silence or what more he might say, handing him some of her notebooks.

He nodded and took them from her, pressing his lips together, seeing that she had gone back to reading her lecture without looking at him.

"Thank you." He said, unable to do anything other than stare at her, at her shiny dark hair, at her gentle face, at her long eyelashes, at her floral dress fastened at the front with big white buttons.

They were both quiet, but despite the silence, broken only by her flipping the pages, he could feel the tension between them, her figure focused and prepared to flee.

He didn't know why he did it, but he slid a little lower and laid his head on her shoulder, just as she had done back then, during that holiday, reading the book about the Mighty Vhagar with him.

He heard her swallow hard and take a deep breath as his arms tentatively embraced her at the waist, cuddling into her like a small child.

He felt her twitch, her chest began to quiver as if she felt like crying. Feeling this, he stroked the side of her waist, his lips placing a gentle, reassuring kiss on her soft, fragrant skin.

"– please –" She muttered.

"– I have a gift for you –" He said, dreading what she was about to say. She involuntarily glanced at his arm as he slipped his hand into the pocket of his trousers and took out a rose-shaped lollipop.

"– I didn't know what kind of flowers you like, so I bought one like this – the sales lady said it has a strawberry flavour –" He explained and she swallowed hard, out of the corner of his eye he noticed a wide, sad smile on her face.

This sight broke his heart.

He pressed his forehead to her temple as she took it shyly from his hand, spinning it between her fingers, staring at it as if he had given her something precious, a ring or a necklace.

"I'll eat it later. I don't want to get the books dirty now. Thank you, that's very kind of you." She said softly and he nodded, his hand involuntarily from her waist rising to her face, letting his fingers run over the warm structure of her skin.

He felt her body relax slightly and they both let their bodies lean back a little, spreading out more comfortably on the large, soft pillows. He swallowed hard as she pressed her head against the hollow of his neck, as her hand lay uncertainly on the spot where his heart was beating.

He locked her in his embrace, kissing lazily the top of her head, feeling that he was completely hard, that he wanted her more than ever, knowing that he couldn't have her now, that he might never feel her like this again, but it didn't matter anymore.

She was with him, in his arms.

"Several of my father's men are dead. They were shot on your grandfather's orders." She whispered, and he swallowed hard, looking up at the ceiling, playing involuntarily with the curls of her hair between his fingers.

"I know."

"Did you have anything to do with it?"

"No. My grandfather restricted my field of action after we called the emergency services when you…"

He didn't finish and closed his eyes, seeing her again in the bathtub filled with blood.

They were both silent for a moment, taking comfort from their closeness – her hand ran over his sternum, making a pleasant shiver pass through his body.

"If your grandfather tells you to kill Daemon or my brother. What will you do then?" She asked quietly in a trembling voice.

"I will tell him to do it himself. The times when I was his dog are over and he knows it. He has no idea what to do with me. I'm out of his control." He sneered, sighing heavily, feeling suddenly tired and weary. His niece twisted and raised herself up on her elbow, looking at him with concern.

"What's your plan?" She asked, and he hummed under his breath, sliding his fingers from her neck between her breasts, playing with the buttons of her dress.

"I want to start acting on my own." He said cautiously, watching her reaction carefully. He saw that she tensed all over, looking at him warily.

"What do you mean?"

"If you think there's a way I could escape this world, you're wrong. Even Daemon didn't escaped it, he simply gathered his most trusted people and expanded his influence. I want to do the same, and I will start by taking over Heavenly Beach. Since Larys is dead, chaos has reigned there, and I intend to take advantage of it. Many of my grandfather's people don't like the vision of them having to work for Aegon in the future. They neither respect nor fear him." He said lightly with some kind of pride and mockery, running his fingers up and down her sternum with a smirk.

She had a penknife under her bra.

She shuddered and swallowed hard as he tapped his finger on the spot where his watchful gaze had spotted its shape, pretending he hadn't meant to keep his hand on her breast at all.

"– wise girl –"

"What do you intend to do with my step-father?" She asked in a trembling voice.

He hummed under his breath, looking curiously at her chest, slowly cupping her plump breast in his fingers, thinking how wonderfully it fit the shape of his hand.

"Nothing. I won't attack him first. For you. He has nothing to do with Heavenly Beach." He said softly, spreading himself out more comfortably on the cushion, feeling a pleasant warmth in his belly at the sight of her hand clamping down on his wrist, as if she wanted to simultaneously push him away and draw him to her at the same time.

"– stop – someone will see –" She muttered, looking around quickly to make sure they were still alone in the room.

"I want it back." He whispered. "I want what we had during that summer."

He heard her swallow hard, shocked by his confession.

"I…God, after all, you know it won't work. We can't. No one will accept it, no one will understand. We'll be miserable again." She mumbled pleadingly, feeling his hand move from her breast to her neck, burying itself in her warm, bare skin, her cheeks pink with emotion, her gaze hot and hazy.

"If you don't want it, I'll understand it. What I desire is fucked up, like my whole person. But I want you to know that what happened between us… then, when my father died. It was real. I've never felt more alive and fulfilled than then, being deep inside you. You were so warm." He said, brushing her soft face with his thumb, looking at her beautiful, puffy lips, the taste of which he longed to feel again so much.

"Aemond." She mumbled in embarrassment.

"I don't care how wrong it is. I don't care about morality. I've done far less moral things to other people. Making love to my niece seems to me the smallest of my sins." He confessed, burying his fingers in her smooth, dark hair, the tips of their noses touched as he made her lean towards him.

"Someone might say it's disgusting and wrong, but I only care about what you want. I don't give a shit about others. What they will think of me, whether I live by their rules or not. What can they do to me? Mock me? Fear me? They are already do. It's not about me, it's about you. I don't want to ruin your life." He said, shaking his head, watching her reaction, her eyes grew wide with shock, her lips parted in heavy, deep breaths.

The sight of her bursting into silent, helpless sobs broke his heart: his mouth began to place quick, lingering, loud kisses on her beautiful, rosy face, all swollen with tears.

"– please – please, I don't want you to cry because of me –" He muttered in pain, feeling his voice tremble with emotion, stroking affectionately her head and neck.

He pulled her body closer to him, wanting to embrace her, protect her, hide her from the pain that tormented her so much.

"This is just too much. I wish I could be a child again. To go back to that sea. To fall asleep next to you in that room. I wish I could feel again the peace I felt then. Your presence next to me. But I can't have it." She mouthed, choking on her own tears, making him press his lips together in pain.

"You have it. You have me. You always had."

She froze, looking at him with a hot, hazy look that made him want to take her in the middle of the library.

However, he decided that he wanted and should do something completely different.

"Do you like me?" He asked as one of his hands ran up and down her bare thigh, while the other was slowly stroking her head. She looked at him in silence for a moment and nodded uncertainly, trying to calm herself down.

He thought she looked like a small, terrified child.

"Very much?" He continued and she nodded again, breathing loudly through her mouth.

He smiled involuntarily, cupping her cheek, hot with emotion, in his hand.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

Her eyes got big, her eyebrows raised high as she gasped loudly, shocked by his question.

"This time I'm aware of what I'm asking for. What I want. And although I should, I'm not ashamed of it. I have wasted eight years that I could have spent with you, no matter how much we would both have suffered during that time. I want to suffer with you by my side now." He whispered, tucking an unruly strand of her hair behind her ear, looking affectionately at her beautiful, gentle face, all pink with emotion and tears.

"I wish I could trust you, but I don't know if I can." She muttered, making him feel a squeeze in his stomach.

"I know. I'll wait as long as it takes." He said, brushing her cheek with his fingers, wanting to comfort himself and her.

She nodded, sighing heavily, as if she had given up and stopped fighting.

"You can only embrace me and hold my hand. No kisses on the lips and don't try to take me." She muttered.

He chuckled under his breath, feeling as happy as a small boy, cuddling her whole body into his at last, feeling her pleasant warmth, her scent, her closeness.

"Very well." He hummed, placing a warm, gentle kiss on the tip of her nose.

He saw her frown and grinned widely, cocking his head.

"Your nose is not your lips, is it? Just as your cheeks. Your jaw. Your neck. Your shoulders." He whispered, brushing his full lips over each of the places he mentioned, leaving wet, hot marks on her bare skin. He sighed as he felt her fingers clench on his back, her soft breasts pressing into his chest.

He got his girlfriend back.

______

Author's note: When we started dating, my husband brought me bouquets of lollipops because I don't like cut flowers and I could at least eat this. I think it's such a sweet idea!!!

[anki-of-beleriand]

A Heart Made of Glass ch.16

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision - CarolxF!Reader

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

The end is near, Reader and Wanda finally had some common ground to work with and now the only thing left is a happily ever after.

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue

Chapter 16

A leap of Faith, a simple request

The first meeting in Nepal would be the first meeting of a series of visits Y/N did for over four months.

Wanda had been confused at first, though she found herself pleasantly surprised to find you in her lodge every morning sharing a good story or a training session. Sometimes, the both of you would reach the closest camp in which you would see many alpinists and hikers, all of them getting ready for a summit on Mount Everest or K2. Wanda didn’t dare to press over the sudden relationship she had been building with you, she was happy to receive your words and your caress, to see your smile or feel your lips on hers whenever the mood struck.

Every weekend had become a highly expected moment in her life, Wanda prepared everything to welcome you while also trying to get the courage to have a serious conversation with you. Would you finally stay more than a couple of days? Would you want to stay with her? What exactly was happening between the both of you?

There were many questions that still haunted Wanda, but she had not dare to voice them in fear of breaking the relationship she had with you. So, she opted to keep quiet while enjoying the moments the both of you shared until she was ready to face the reality of her emotions and give the last step towards you.

For more than four months you two had been sharing a relationship through the distance, and Wanda knew she had sworn to fight for you and not let go, and whatever fears or insecurities that had built in her should be put aside in favour of that leap of faith. Wanda had been nervous, but she arranged everything to be ready for your visit and, this time around Wanda was ready to ask you to stay or take her with you.

But, just as she got ready to clear things up within the both of you, just as she got ready to leave herself expose and at your mercy…you didn’t show up.

At first she thought it was normal, your life was still happening right in the outside world and you had been quite busy at your work back in Norway while also with your mission as hero. Wanda checked her phone and her email, but you didn’t send a message and after two days of waiting for you she knew you wouldn’t come that weekend.

Disappointment came rushing inside her mind, she waited for an explanation but nothing came and soon her disappointment transformed in sadness and the old doubts and fears drown her thoughts until she just tried to focus on her routine waiting for you to come the next weekend with an explanation.

The explanation never came and you didn’t show on that weekend.

And then, you didn’t show the next one, or the one after that.

Wanda tried to rationalize the situation, she tried to convince herself that you were busy or perhaps in a highly secretive mission but so far she had not received any news or any big going on in the outside world. It was as if you had vanished, and with you, any form of contacting you. Your phone didn’t work, and there was no way for her to get into contact with Natasha; for a moment Wanda thought about America but then she thought herself desperate and while she was dying to know what happened to you, a little voice inside her head told her perhaps, you grew bored of her and decided to simply not continue her visits any more.

As easily as you had begun this routine, you had decided to cut it over.

This was just a single thought of the many that came rushing inside her mind day after day, Wanda found herself busying herself with different activities inside the compound, she gave herself to the training and to the distractions while finding odd jobs in the temple and the small towns surrounding Kamar-Taj.

It worked, for a little while.

But there was nothing much one would do to quiet down the doubts and growing anxiety inside the heart. Wanda wanted to be angry at you, she wanted to be furious at your sudden dismissal of her, at your silence and sudden disappearance; but she couldn’t. Instead of that, she was just sad, and found herself trying to ignore her emotions while trying to get control of her life.

For over a month, Wanda tried to forget about you.

And while Winter was approaching, and she stood at the edge of a cliff overseen the beautiful landscape surrounding the Himalayas she tried to get a hold of her thoughts and her emotions. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but not a single thought came through her mind, the only thing she could do was feel and that was enough for the time being.

Wanda sensed the approaching presence of someone powerful, she didn’t need to pounder too much to know who was coming her way. With a quick gesture, she tried to wipe away the tears on her cheeks.

“You are quite difficult to locate when you decided to hide away, aren’t you, Wanda?”

Wanda tensed turning to the left, her green eyes gleaming with unshed tears furrowing her brows. Stephen was dressed in his fighting attire, he looked tired and a little dishevelled but otherwise untouched; the older man waved away the unasked question.

“Rough night, nothing important but I mess up and ended up with a house falling on top of me.” He offered a sheepish smile; Wanda raised a brow pressing her lips to hold back her smile.

“Right, what brings you here, Stephen?” Wanda finally asked tilting her head to focus her stare to the mountains. “I was trying to get some alone time, and I just…I don’t think I am a good company at the moment.”

Stephen nodded understanding the hint but ignoring it altogether, Wanda rolled her eyes not wanting to have any type of conversation with anyone. She scoffed when the man stood beside her, his hand reaching inside his pocket producing a single envelope. Wanda frowned tilting her head to the man who was trying really hard to keep his expression neutral.

“I understand, but I think I come here with news and perhaps to alleviate the turmoil you had been experimenting as of late.” The knowing glance he shot Wanda told the young with Stephen knew about her recent heartbreak.

She crossed her arms rolling her eyes while also getting a spark of curiosity, she squinted her eyes when Stephen waved away a single envelope, this time around he lost his smile and was showing a more serious façade.

“My mission took me to Florence, it was a last minute request by Stark and I decided to do so if only to shut the man up.” Stephen said talking a step closer to Wanda. “I met with some people there, and I was told to give you this.”

Now, Stephen had Wanda’s full attention, she grabbed the letter scrunching up her nose turning it around until her eyes fell on the familiar handwriting.

“This is…” Wanda trailed off, her frown deepening while the anger she had ignored up until then came back and she closed it almost throwing it away.

“She was hurt during a mission.” Stephen said before Wanda could speak or do something else, “It was supposed to be a routine safe and rescue mission but they found some troubles, she tried to play the hero role and got badly hurt.”

“She got hurt…” Wanda opened the letter missing the sympathetic glance Stephen sent her way.

“Nobody knew about her visits to you, Wanda.” Strange explained, “They found out as soon as she woke up and started asking for you, I think that may explain her absence as of late.”

“Hn, I didn’t even notice.” Wanda mumbled reading the letter you had tried to write to her, Stephen hid his snort behind a cough.

“Right, so you haven’t been mopping around and…”

“I wasn’t mopping!” Wanda exclaimed, her magic igniting in her hands while her cheeks coloured red. “I just…I was…I…”

“I know.” Stephen said nodding to the letter, “Tony sent a jet for you, it will be there until tomorrow morning, a car is waiting for you as well. Don’t be late.”

Wanda watched as Stephen turned around walking away, she played with her lips before calling out to the older man.

“Are you…I mean, late I’ve been…” Wanda sighed frustrated turning to Stephen. “I’m still trying to find myself, to do right and to get a hold of my emotions, are you sure I should go?”

“Wanda, you have been mopping around because you missed her,” Stephen cocked his head to the side, his eyes finding those of Wanda, “take the word of a man that lost everything for not being brave enough, Wanda, go after her and keep fighting for what you want, talk to her and don’t let any misunderstanding or lack of communication get in the way.”

With those last words, Stephen turned around and left.

Wanda stood there feeling the cold wind hitting her face, she grabbed the letter and went back to the words you had written for her. The explanations and the invitation to go to you, to stand beside you, to be a part of your life.

Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, she lowered her gaze and in a single moment of decision she went back to her cabin to get her things.

It was about time she stopped running from the things she wanted and start running after them.

The Amerigo Vespucci Airport was the second busiest airport in the Tuscany, located in the city of Florence it stood as a welcoming bacon to international travellers into a city that breath Renaissance, culture and history. The private section of the airport was a safe heaven for those who wanted to go incognito to the city, and Wanda soon found herself being attended as the jet landed in the city.

She glanced around while the customs and border protection agent came forth to speak with the pilot. She grabbed her backpack tightly, her eyes glancing around the place before they fell on a dark car waiting silently at the other end of the hangar. The officer spoke in broken English pointing at her then at the passport before nodding and giving back the document.

“It seems we are cleared, ma’am, the driver will take you to the agreed location.” The pilot said giving her the papers back before pointing to the car.

“Thank you.” Wanda offered a nervous smile before making her way to the car, once inside the driver merely gave a warm welcome before driving down the empty streets of the airport to the closest entrance.

Once they left the airport Wanda could enjoy the magnificent look that the city was offering her. She could see the Tuscan Cypress decorating the highway while the people drove without a care in the world. This kind of scenes always brought memories to Wanda, she couldn’t help but remembered being on the run without a chance of enjoying the places they visited or having a chance to actually have friends, go out, have a nice dinner.

Her world had been changing so much, she sometimes forgot there was another world right outside waiting to be discovered. Wanda smiled observing the busy streets with people coming in and out of work, the students enjoying the afternoon sun while running or walking around not a single tourist was on sight which told Wanda this was a part of the city reserved for the Italians living in the city.

She wondered if you were aware of her visit, if perhaps you had planned all of this just to get her out of the coldness that was Nepal into the warm that was the region of Tuscany at the moment. But so far she had not received a single call, and no body had come for her to the airport. She played with the idea of calling Tony but decided against it, if the man wanted to contact her he would have done so as soon as she entered the plane; a part of Wanda knew why they had kept silence, they were waiting to see how the story would end.

Wanda couldn’t blame them, she was also waiting patiently to see how her story with you would end.

Soon they left the busy streets to enter a more residential section of the city, Wanda watched as they went up the terrain with less people walking around and many houses protected by high fences and beautiful trees. She felt her heartbeat that tad bit faster, her hand sweating lightly while the tingles in her lower abdomen intensified.

The car turned around a corner and soon she found herself watching full properties, all guarded by wooden gates and walls protecting their inhabitants. She wondered just what kind of place where you located at, when the man turned one last time going up a hill until he reached a gate standing tall protected by a stoned arch and cypress sneaking out of a stoned wall. The man lowered the window while showing an ID to the gate’s security system, soon there was a small bell and the doors opened right in front of them.

Wanda could hardly wait to see you, she was glancing out of the window while playing with the words inside her head. The car stopped at the main gate, and Wanda couldn’t help but gasp.

“Wanda!” America came running wrapping her arms around the young woman who couldn’t help the shock from showing on her face.

“America?” Wanda returned the hug, stepping aside America gave her a weak smile.

“I missed you, you know?”

“I missed you too.” Wanda shrugged lightly, “I’m sorry I just…”

“I know, Y/N told me some things so…I get it.” America bounced on her feet running to where the bags were left. “But now, you’re here so I can forgive you for that.”

Wanda chuckled grabbing one of her bags and going with America inside the house.

The place was enormous, with two living rooms and a single dining room leading to the backyard and the pool Wanda could understand why they chose such location. America was talking non-stop, she told Wanda about school and the life in Norway; for Natasha and Yelena had been important that America learnt the basics while also learnt about her powers so whenever they had any easy mission America went with them.

“But this one, well it went out of control and…”

“Where is she?” Wanda finally asked when they reached the second floor.

America winced tilting her head, “she is asleep, pain medicine really takes a toll out of her.”

Wanda furrowed her brows; she glanced around trying to guess which one was your room but her eyes found those of America who was shooting her a sympathetic smile.

“Don’t worry, she will be up in no time.”

“I just…” Wanda brushed some hairs out of her face, “I just found out, after a month of not having any new from her I just…”

America pressed her lips together, after a moment of hesitation she pointed to the left to a long corridor leading to a single wooden door. Wanda hesitated for a moment but before she could move America placed a hand on her arm, her eyes twinkled strangely while she put on her best serious face.

“I’m glad to see you here, Wands, and I know you and Y/N had been seeing one another for some time,” Wanda could tell that in the last couple of months America had changed, no longer was she looking tired or scared, if anything she was looking more mature and relaxed, responsible as she grabbed the bags and stepped back.

“I really want for you guys to be happy, perhaps this could be your chance, you know?”

Wanda smiled nodding, “I know.”

“Good then, go before Natasha and Yelena get here, they get really overprotective of Y/N when she is in that state.” America turned around leaving Wanda alone.

With a sigh and wiggling hands, Wanda made her way to your room.

The place was covered in different shades of blue, the balcony faced the pool and the backyard, and the fresh wind of the afternoon was sneaking inside the room mixing the smell of flowers and nature inside your room. Wanda softened her features when her eyes fell on your sleeping form.

You were on your side, deeply asleep with your hand right above your face and one leg placed carefully on a pillow. It was protected by a cast, and your face and head were covered with bandages. You really were hurt, and soon Wanda realized all around the room there were medical implements to help out during the healing process.

With a knot on her throat, Wanda approached your bed her trembling fingers caressing your cheek while the tears blurred her vision for a moment. All this time, she should have looked for you, perhaps insist to try and see what happened instead of letting her own insecurities and her own fears to cloud her judgement.

“What took you so long?” Wanda almost fell down from the bed when you spoke, you offered a lazy smile your eyes fluttering opened.

“Y/N!”

“Wanda!” Your voice was hoarse, wincing as you turn on your back.

“You were awake?” Wanda asked with reproach in her voice.

You tried to sit down, it was taking some effort until Wanda came right in to help you out. Her arms wrapped around you, and she was close enough to feel your warmness against hers. You offered a smile shrugging.

“I was just resting not sleeping, thank you.” You rested your back on the wall, taking a good look at Wanda who decided to sit on the bed.

“You…” Wanda started finding the words strangled in her throat and her eyes filling up with tears.

“Hey, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about this.” You started grabbing her hand in yours, your thumb drawing circles on the back of her hand.

“It’s okay, I…” Wanda trailed off, she didn’t want to sound foolish by telling you the million questions that came to her mind.

She was not ready to share with you her inadequacy and her self-doubt. You nodded lightly, softening your features while squeezing her hand tenderly.

“I should have said something, but I just…I wanted you for myself.” You said softly, trying to clear your throat.

Wanda leaned to the closest bedside table where a single glass of water was resting, you took the glass grateful before continuing.

“I didn’t want anyone saying anything at all, I just…”

“I get it, I know what you mean…” Wanda hesitated before lifting her hand to brush away some strands of hair, she leaned in her lips parting slightly. “Y/N…”

You lifted your hand cupping her cheek in your palm, leaning in closing the distance by brushing your lips against hers. The kiss was soft, a simple gesture of reassurance for you and her, it last but a few seconds but it was enough to leave Wanda trembling and you with a racing heart.

“I missed you, Little Witch.” You mumbled pecking her lips, Wanda smiled nuzzling her face on your neck.

“I missed you too.”

Wanda leaned back, glancing out of the window before returning her eyes to you.

“I thought you didn’t want to continue with your visits.” She finally revealed looking away from you. “I thought I messed it up all over again, and I just…Y/N, what are we doing? What does it mean this? I just…”

You could see the conflicting emotions in her green eyes, how confused she was about what had happened in the last couple of months in which, once more, your relationship with her had shifted. You made yourself that questions moments before the mission, you had been standing by Yelena’s side when you realized how deeply in love you were with Wanda, how your feelings for her were the same they had shifted and they had matured and at the moment they were more intense.

You weren’t the only one thinking that, or even experimenting it. Seeing the anguish in Wanda’s face told you she was just as deeply sensitive with the whole situation as you were.

“Walk with me?” You asked tenderly, Wanda furrowed her brows before nodding.

“Yes, sure I…” She stood up watching as you signalled the far wall where a single crutch was resting.

“You need help? I mean there is only one.”

“Yeah, I didn’t break the leg per se, but I did some serious damage to the muscle and the joint, so walking is difficult.” You explained standing up with her help and that of the crutch.

“So, you are at my mercy?” Wanda asked wiggling her brows, you raised a single eyebrow shooting a daring glance.

“You want to try that theory out?” The blush that form on Wanda’s face was beyond adorable and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Good, perhaps later we could see if I am or not at your mercy.”

“I know that I am at yours.” Wanda finally said walking past you and opening the door for you to come out of the room.

Your heart jumped happily, your smile growing at the sight of Wanda there with you once more. With a chuckled you limped engaging Wanda in a conversation about the mission that had left you out of commission for a while.

__________________

“When did she get here?” Yelena glanced out of the window of the kitchen, she squinted her eyes following you and Wanda as the both of you strolled through the yard.

“Uhm, around three?” America put the spoon on the gelato Yelena brought for her, “I think so, she came here in one of Tony’s cars.”

“Of course it was Stark.” Yelena huffed turning around, she lifted a hand pointing an accusing finger at America, “and you let her in!”

America rolled her eyes, she knew Yelena tended to be highly protective of Y/N but as of late her arguments against Wanda had worn thin and she was just trying to get a hold of what was really happening and how everything would end, Much like everyone in the life of Y/N and Wanda.

“Please, you and I both know they have been seeing one another for more than two months, nobody thought of telling Wanda about the mission and she was really affected by this.” America rested her cheek on her hand, her eyes on Yelena.

“What?” Yelena grabbed her own gelato shaking her head.

“Do you think they will go back to being together?”

Yelena leaned back against the counter, she thought about the things that had happened in the past. She had been there, and she had heard the story and the wounds, but after they learnt the full story and went through so much, forgiveness was not a crazy thought. You had been so happy as of late, singing and laughing, being a different kind of person and Yelena knew she owed it to Wanda coming back and wanting to be a part of your life.

“I think it is a possibility, but this time around if something were to go wrong…” Yelena left in the air the possibility of negative consequences, America tilted her head thoughtful.

“I think this time around could be different, and I think that’s the reason why they had been dancing around one another, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just that if this time around everything goes well, they have seen how their lives could turn out to be. The twins, and the house and the married life, everything would be possible and happiness would be there.” America shrugged, “I just thing sometimes we are more open to the negative outcome instead of the positive one because we are afraid of getting hurt or getting lost in the feeling.”

“You don’t have a right to sound so wise,” Yelena scoffed shaking her head, America smirked.

“I learnt from the best.”

“Oh, thank you…”

“I mean, Natasha…”

“Brat.” Yelena threw a paper towel that America grabbed in the air, she was about to throw it again when a heavy hand rested on her shoulder.

“Children, please.” Natasha gave her sister a glance before turning to America, “what are you two discussing about?”

“Y/N and Wanda.”

Natasha lifted a brow, her eyes following the stare of Yelena until she found Wanda and Y/N standing in the far corner of the yard.

“When did Wanda get here?”

“This afternoon.” America explained, Natasha softened her features as she watched your smile and the easy conversation growing between the both of you.

“I guess that’s good, right?” Natasha ruffled America’s hair winking at Yelena who chuckled at the gesture.

“I guess, what do you think?” Yelena gauged Natasha’s face, she was waiting for a signal that revealed the real thoughts of Natasha but the woman was a tomb.

“I think we need to make more food, and you two have a mission tomorrow so no staying up late watching silly movies.”

“You know I am a highly functional adult and that I can go to bed whenever I want?”

“I think you are an adult, but the functional part is up for debate.” Natasha replied chuckling at the offended expression in Yelena’s face.

America laughed ignoring the mocking glare from Yelena.

“I am a trained assassin, you know, I can…”

“I’m just going to say two words,” America smirked in triumph lifting her hand and lifting a finger when she said those two words, “Kate Bishop.”

Yelena opened her mouth and then closed it again, her cheeks coloured red with her hands wiggling to try and make a point that was lost when Natasha came closer to her to close her mouth by putting two fingers under her chin.

“She got you there, sis.”

America laughed standing up before running away from the kitchen, Yelena screaming in Russian while going after her. Natasha shook her head taking a sip from the glass of juice she just poured for her. The day was getting old, the sun was already gone and the sky was changing into a darker version of blue, yet even with the drop of temperature and the sudden changed you and Wanda were still outside.

Natasha sighed.

Peace was so odd at times, but it was for moments like this that she lived for. With a final glance she turned around and went the living room her voice reaching out the two kids that were laughing and screaming on the second floor.

“America! Yelena! You have to prepare dinner!!”

You welcome the change in atmosphere from the confines of your room.

In the last couple of days, Natasha had done nothing more than babying you under the medical recommendations. It had been a necessary evil considering you were out of commission for over two weeks. Wanda listened carefully to your story, with each word her heart shrank making the very fibre of her emotions trembled under the possibility of you not surviving such an incident.

“It was really confusing at first, I woke up with everything hurting and in a hospital with Natasha and Yelena all over me,” you stopped walking turning to Wanda, your hand seeking out hers feeling the softness of her palm against yours, “I remembered right away that you probably were asking where I was and why I haven’t called at all.”

Wanda stiffened her eyes drifting away though her hand tightened lightly around yours.

“I just thought you would be busy, I knew you have your job and the occasional missions.” Wanda tried to downplay the turmoil she went through when you didn’t show on that first weekend, then the second one, and then the third one.

She was not ready to admit to you that she had been lost, and that the old insecurities came back to push her to the edge of feeling alone and not enough. You tilted your head taking a closer look to the young woman standing in front of you, observing how her lips tensed and her eyes refused to look at you directly; the way she kept a hold of your hand and the sudden softening of her voice told you all you needed to know at the moment.

“You know I would never walk away from you without telling you first, Wands.” You winced moving from one foot to the crutch on your right hand. “I never told anyone I was going over to Nepal to visit you because I didn’t want them snooping around in my things, I wanted this to be ours.”

There afternoon sun was fading away slowly, and the wind of the Tuscany region enveloped both of you in a warm embrace. Wanda lifted her free hand only to let it fall again, her eyes flickering to your face then to your lips and finally to your joined hands.

“I know.” She finally stated though her voice trembled, lacking the conviction your were looking for.

“Are you still doubting what is happening here, Wands?” You asked stepping a little closer, Wanda offered a weak smile shrugging.

“What is happening, Y/N? I’m still…You have come and go for over five months, and we have talked and we have shared amazing moments and still I am not sure as to where I stand eith you.” Wanda didn’t want to be so honest all of a sudden, she wasn’t looking to actually be honest and broke with such a tirade but the trip and the lack of sleep coupled with her worries about her own situation brought this over.

Your eyes dropped alongside your smile, your hand never let go of that of Wanda but you did tried to take a step closer. Wanda didn’t fight, instead she also came closer trying to get a hold of you to see if the questions she had would be answered.

“I thought everything had been clear, but I guess we never did talk about it clearly, did we?”

“Not really.” Wanda mumbled lifting her hand towards her hair, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t bring this over and…”

Wanda trailed off completely, her body stiffening when you leaned forward placing a peck at the corner of her lips. She could feel the heavy stare of someone watching them from the house, while you came at her without any shame or hesitation.

“I think I told you before, the same way you have told me, Wands. I don’t want this to be over without at least giving it a try.” You squeezed her hand offering a half smile, “I guess I wasn’t clear enough so, let me set the record straight and ensure there are no more doubts in you.”

Wanda opened her mouth to ask what exactly you mean by that, but at that moment the both of you heard Natasha calling out to you.

“Y/N!! Your medication! Now!”

You winced turning to see Natasha standing by the threshold, her hands on her hips and a knowing glare shot your way. Under that stare you understood Natasha had a second intention for the call out, you snorted turning to Wanda who had a glint of disappointment in her green eyes, you chuckled winking at her.

“Don’t worry, Little Witch, tomorrow we will have the house for ourselves and we can continue with this conversation.” You then nodded towards the house, “now let’s go, I really am feeling the pain kicking in and perhaps taking the medication won’t be as bad with you at my side.”

Wanda offered a half smile, her helped you out before taking a deep breath and speaking closer to your ear.

“You want me to play nurse?”

You almost fell down on your face, turning to the mischievous smirk she was now wearing. You chuckled nodding.

“I would like that very much, Little Witch, but Nats would probably kill you if we get sidetracked.”

Wanda snorted though whatever tension she had worn moments ago soon dissipated; she opened her mouth then closed again until she just shrugged turning to you.

“Well, we always have tomorrow, right? You did say we will have the house all for ourselves.”

Now, that comment hit you straight in your mind and core, and you couldn’t help but laugh while trying to cover up your flustered cheeks. Wanda sighed in relief, her doubts quieted down by your reassurance and the welcoming committee she had from your part, seeing you again had made her happy and Wanda soon realized there was no place on earth she would rather be as long as she was by your side.

Wanda just needed to let her last doubts aside to take a leap of faith and confessed this to you. There was nothing more she wanted that be yours for as long as you wanted her, and for you to be hers for as long as you allowed her to have you.

______________

You limped around the kitchen grabbing cups and bowls from the cabinets placing them carefully on the counter.

The music coming from your phone filled the silence in the kitchen, coffee was the very first thing you always prepared before anything else and the strong smell of the coffee was soon filling out the room. You limped to the fridge glancing around until you found the milk and the orange juice, putting them out you went to grab some of the strawberries almost falling on your face.

“You really love putting yourself in harm’s way, don’t you?” You chuckled feeling the arm around your waist making sure you were not hitting the floor, Wanda was smiling down at you helping you up on your feet.

“What can I say? I was just waiting for a cute hero to come and rescue me?” Wanda rolled her eyes but never lost her smile you grabbed the strawberries and then close the door.

“What were you doing?” Wanda finally asked looking around the kitchen then at you.

“Breakfast?” You tried limping towards the coffee maker, “I just thought I will make breakfast and then we can go into the city.”

Wanda tapped on the counter playfully, her smile just growing with her eyes following your every move.

“The city? You have plans for today?” Wanda leaned forward excitedly; you lifted your face blinking confusedly at Wanda.

“We have plans, Wands. You and Me.” You replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, Wanda tilted her head with her heart missing a beat at the sight of your grin.

“I…let me help you, I think it would be faster.” Wanda winked at you going to help with the fruit and the cereal.

You watched her out of the corner of your eyes, a shiver of pure pleasure and contentment went through your body and settled on your lower abdomen your heart twisting painfully your chest. You knew the moment you made the decision to go after Wanda that everything could turn out with the both of you, love had always been there but sometimes people needed more than love to build up a relationship.

The last couple of months you and Wanda had done just that, build a relationship that went beyond the initial passion and juvenile love you felt for one another. You chuckled when she put the bowl filled with cereal, milk and strawberries right in front of you before putting a chair closer so you could accommodate.

“I was supposed to be working on this and served you breakfast, you know?” You were about to stand up and go for your coffee but Wanda winked at you placing a mug filled with coffee.

“Black, two spoonful of sugars and, of course, enough coffee to kill you instead of waking you up.”

“Damn, you’re the best.” You were about to say something else but Wanda was faster than you and soon her lips when on yours giving you a soft kiss before stepping away. “Wha-what was that?”

“I like my breakfast with a kiss from you, I was getting use to it I just thought…” Wanda was losing her confidence as she started talking but whatever else she was going to say you took the chance to cut it out by another kiss.

“Shall we eat and then hit the road?” You asked putting a strand of hair behind Wanda’s ear.

“Yeah, yeah that sounds… nice.”

Ten years ago their relationship had been different.

It was filled with passion, sex was something you knew pretty well and took advantage of as a way to escape reality, a tool used for missions or in your leisure time. For Wanda it had been the first-time experimenting emotions and pleasure she had been forbidden to practice or to even think about during the war consuming her country. Your conversations had been everything, music and movies, books and hobbies, it had been an immature relationship that had meant the world to you.

Wanda taught you about being in love.

Your broken heart had bled for a very long time, not really understanding why after everything the both of you had shared it ended up with Wanda looking for comfort and love in another’s arms. With time, you understood why, and while you didn’t have to like the answer it was something you were trying to make peace with.

Now, ten years and some months later you stood right before the very same woman you had fallen in love within your teen years. Whatever love you held for her changed, and instead of diminished with time it slept until your paths crossed again and it grew into something different.

This time around your conversations were different and while passion was still present, it was not about the physical connection.

You found Wanda’s eyes across the room, her facial features completely relaxed wearing a soft smile while listening to the explanation done by the guide. You were sitting down on a bench brough specially for you, the discomfort on your leg had started almost ten minutes ago but you didn’t want to leave the city just yet, not when it was pretty obvious Wanda was happy.

“Where next?” Wanda asked slightly giddy, her eyes sweeping around the Piazza della Signoria admiring the architecture and the sculptures and the fountain of Neptuno.

It was a warm day, with sweet breeze and streets filled with people running around the busy streets of Florence’s downtown. The weather had been kind of warm accompanied by a sweet breeze that made it easier to walk around, the conversation was directed to meaningless subjects that brought laughter to Wanda with your heart missing a bet whenever you glance into her green eyes.

“Well, there is another place I want to show you but it is not the right time yet,” you watched at the time before turning to Wanda.

“Which place?”

“Oh, it is a surprised, Little Witch.” You winked at her taking her hand in yours, Wanda fixed her position so as to not bother the crutch and your leg.

“Okay, so far I have liked the surprises you have given me, so wherever you want to take me I’m all in.”

“Good then, next stop would be the Gardens Boboli.” You declared limping slowly towards the closest street leading to Ponte Vecchio and the Palazzo.

It was the moment the both of you stepped into the garden that you realized how well you knew Wanda.

She was completely stunned by the sight, her mouth hanged open and her eyes gleamed amazed by the architecture of the place. You smiled behind her, your heart skipping a beat under the charm of her smile and her stare. Wanda was standing right beside you forgetting about her doubts and her fears, and letting herself go enjoying the moments she had always dreamt to share with you.

You enjoyed taking her to new places, you heard her stories about being on the run while being completely lost and sometimes confined to a room or a place without the opportunity to enjoy the world out there. You always thought it was kind of sad, to be so afraid of what would happen to you if you showed yourself the way you were to not really enjoy what the world had to offer. One of the things you enjoyed the most was the expression on her face whenever you told her a new story or showed her a new place, it was a world of pure discovery and it told you exactly what you wanted and with whom you wanted to be with.

After eight hours of just walking and talking, spending most of the morning getting to visit the most important places in the historical Florence, you started feeling the pain in your leg and body. You concealed your pain taking deep breaths while limping heavily down the streets, Wanda stood by your side completely aware of your discomfort.

“Y/N, please I know you wanted to show me this place but…I mean, it can wait, you don’t look well.” She stood right before you, her free hand cupping your cheek with concern.

You winced trying to offer a smile but coming out with a grimace.

“I know, I know it’s just this is the best part.” You pouted letting out a huff while nodding to the hill that was just a few meters away.

“What can be so important that you’re risking this pain in your leg?” Wanda finally asked cleaning up some of the sweat in your forehead.

“You.” The answer came before you could stop it, but there was only honesty in your words.

Wanda stopped her movements locking her eyes with your, she felt her cheek colouring red while her lips curved into a tiny smile.

“You’re such a sweet talker.” She softened her tone, though the small frown of concern never left her features.

“Is it working?” You asked, Wanda snorted looking away.

“You know it is.” She finally said wrapping her arm around your waist and making sure to give you the much needed it support to hold your body.

“Good then, help me out and then I will do whatever you want.” You winked at Wanda who could merely rolled her eyes at your words.

“I will hold you to that.”

You chuckled holding back any exclamation of pain while walking the last few meters to the top.

“This, my dear Wanda is Piazza Michelangelo.” You presented the place with a flourish of your hand, your grin grew when you realized Wanda had been surprised by the sight.

She didn’t let go of your hand while stepping closer to the balcony, her head turned to you then back again before she caught sight of your grimace.

“This is beautiful.” She mumbled taking you to one of the steps overseeing the city.

“So, was it worth it?” You let go a breathy whimper, intertwining your hand with hers.

“It is worthy mostly because I’m with you.” Wanda confessed resting her head on your shoulder. “But I don’t think it will be enough to justify the pain you are going through at the moment.”

You snorted but said nothing else, for what seemed like hours the both of you sat in silence observing the buildings and the landscape that was Florence. The magnificence of the Duomo governing a city that had been the birthplace of the rebirth of mankind. You closed your eyes allowing the warm on Wanda’s hand to bring comfort to your heart.

“Yesterday you were questioning our relationship as of late.” You broke the silence, never taking your eyes from the city.

“I was just confused, and a little angry for not having heard from you in a while, Y/N.” Wanda started trying to explain her emotions. “These last months had been like a dream come true for me, I never thought I would be close to you again, or that we could be like this.”

“You never thought I would forgive you.” You stated, Wanda shook her head unable to answer to your words.

“I never thought I could forgive you, Wanda.” This time around Wanda lifted her head turning to face you, her hands on yours. “last year I finally understood many things about you and about me. I even got to understand our relationship and what exactly had happened to the both of us.”

The sound of muffled conversations filled the silence in between, you could see people laughing while enjoying their time together in such a place. The sun was starting to face, but the day was still far from over: to your left Wanda sat facing both the city and yourself, and you had to wonder if perhaps you were doing the right thing.

“When I started our visits I did so without any specific expectations,” you continued furrowing your brow, trying to have the conversation of your life with such a pain was not an easy task. “I thought it would be good for you and me to see where this really was going and if it was worth it.”

“And, is it?” Wanda inquired rather frightened by your answer.

You turned to her, your lips curving into a smile and your eyes gleaming with deep emotion.

“It is worth it, Wanda. I don’t want you to be alone anymore, and I don’t want to be away from you either.” You stated putting your hand in your pocket, Wanda held her breath when you pulled out a small box from it.

“What…” She remembered the box she opened all those months ago in which she discovered the plans you had made for your future with her. She was trembling by then, her heart almost leaving her chest and a horde of wild butterflies fluttering their winds inside her abdomen.

“It is not what you think it is, not yet anyway.” You lifted your free hand before opening lightly, inside was resting a single necklace made of white gold and a single Tourmaline stone matching Wanda’s eye.

“Why…I mean, what…” Wanda trailed off not really knowing what to say, you shrugged making sure you were putting it on her, your lips right beside her ear.

“With this necklace, Wanda, I want to promise myself to you.” Your whispered sent a shiver down her back, you sighed staying still gathering your strength to continue. “I don’t want to repeat the mistakes of the past, and I want to believe that second chances mean a new chapter in our lives. So, please accept this as an offering for you to be with me and, this time around, let’s just see where it gets us.”

You found yourself being hugged by her, your eyes were wide open and your arms stood rigid at your sides. You could feel the wetness on your neck, the sign of her tears and the soft whimpers leaving her lips while she poured her answer in the embrace. After a while, your own arms moved to return it, closing your eyes while enjoying the closeness of the woman you had fallen in love with all those years ago and had not stopped loving ever since.

When Wanda leaned back, you could see those green eyes twinkling with the same love she had always showed you, the same one that had changed over the years but instead of diminished had transformed itself and had mature enough to love and let herself be loved.

“I love you.” Wanda whispered those words without any fear of rejection, she finally let go of what she had been holding all this time, all the pain, and the suffering had broken and now all that stood before her was a future you were proposing. “I just love you, I can’t imagine anybody else by my side, I just can hope this time around I don’t disappoint you, or hut you, I don’t want to I…”

“Hey, that’s fine, one step at a time, okay?” Wanda nodded holding your hand, at that moment a sharp electrifying pain went through your leg and abdomen making you gasp clenching your eyes closed.

You had been trying to hide the fat your leg had been killing you for quite some time, the position you were in had not been ideal and after a while the pain became far too much. You hated this only broke the moment you were living with Wanda, the young witch was on top of you right away checking over your leg and your body with a concern look.

“What is it? Does it hurt too bad?”

“It’s nothing.” You grumbled clenching your fists, Wanda dropped her stare frowning at you.

“You look in pain,” Wanda grabbed your hand stepping closer to you while crunching up her nose, she was examining you. “You have been walking all day, of course you’re not okay.”

You tried to wave away her concern, trying to stand up only for your legs to feel weak all of a sudden. She was right on you to hold you up.

“I think I can… ugh…” You sat down closing your eyes for a moment, Wanda knelt beside you brushing your hair and cupping your cheeks.

“I think it is enough, I can carry you and we can go to the car,” Wanda checked you over trying to remember how far away from the parking lot the both of you were.

“N-no, that won’t be necessary, we still have a lot to visit and…” You tried to stand up but Wanda put a hand on your shoulder shaking her head.

“Don’t be stubborn, I can see it hurt you.” Wanda cupped your face in her hands, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let me help you, please?”

She grabbed your hand in hers, her eyes pleading to you to stop your stubbornness. You closed one eye, the other one falling on the gemstone she was now wearing. With a grumbled, you nodded accepting her help.

“Okay, we can go home…I don’t have energy to take us there, but I can take us to the car.”

“Are you sure? I think I can help you out and we can make our way over there.” Wanda continued brushing your hair away and wiping your forehead.

“Yeah, it is close enough for me, and I don’t think I can actually walk.” You replied sheepishly, Wanda rolled her eyes already knowing you would act the tough act until you really felt helpless.

With a flicker of your hand and her help, the both of you crossed the shadows until you ended up right in front of the car. After that, the ride home was done in relatively silence, your pain increasing as the time passed by. Wanda couldn’t help but sent worried glances your way, her hand on yours trying to calm you down by distracting you with stories or questions you were ready to answer.

The Villa was still empty, Natasha had gone into the city on some sort of mission, and Yelena and America had left earlier without giving any sort of explanation. You grabbed Wanda tightly, almost falling on your face when another jolt of electricity went through your body.

“Sorry.” You mumbled; Wanda shook her head making sure you rest comfortably on your bed. “We were having a good moment, and I really wanted it to be more romantic, the sort of moment in which I will clear up your doubts but…”

Wanda sat facing you, her hands making quick work on your shirt and pants, her fingertips moving delicately with the frown still in place. You grabbed her hand in yours kissing her before helping her out in the process of getting you into more comfortable clothes.

“You don’t have to be sorry for that, I enjoyed our time together and we still have time for a conversation.” Wanda replied making sure you were quite comfortable on the bed.

“I don’t want you to think I left because I preferred the mission, or because I didn’t want to be anymore, you know?” You were breathing hard by then, the injury on your leg had been bad enough to let you feel useless while having one of those attacks.

“I know.”

“I was enjoying our little meetings; I think we never got a chance to do what we did on them.” This time around you smiled feeling the softness of a cotton towel on your face, fresh water touched your lips and you welcome the beverage while also trying to swallow the pills Wanda placed on your hand.

“I enjoyed them as well, I was afraid you have grown tired of me, that perhaps you had finally gotten what you wanted it before leaving.” Wanda confessed finally sitting down at your side, her hand on yours.

You shook your head putting her hand to your lips, the heavy doses of the pills alongside with the tiredness of the day was catching up with you.

“Thank you for coming here, and for not turning me away, Little Witch.”

Wanda softened lightly she leaning in placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t mention it, Love, I’m here.” The endearing term slipped her lips without noticing, you gave her a quick stare before smiling. “Let me give you the last pill and then I leave you to rest.”

You frowned shaking your head grabbing her hand, “no, please just…”

“Y/N you need to take the medication,” Wanda started but you cut it off shaking your head.

“No, I mean, don’t go.” You took a deep breath, your voice coming on short gasps, “Stay with me, please? I want to be with you.”

Wanda felt the warm on her cheeks, she broke into a timid smile that didn’t go away walking around your room grabbing the last of the pills before placing it on your tongue. You drank more water shifting slightly to leave an open space for the other woman.

With some hesitation, Wanda took her shoes off and her jeans, she grabbed a pair of shorts and then went right in with you on the bed. Wanda stayed still her back resting on the pillows chewing on her lips until you snuggled closer to her.

“You don’t have to be so tense; you know?” You closed your eyes, a playful smile on your lips. “I am not in the right physical state to offer you some interesting games to help you relax but I am not against them if it helps.”

“Y/N! I thought you were sleepy?” Wanda shifted her body to welcoming you in her arms, you chuckled observing her red cheeks and dilated pupils.

“I am but you were just so tense, let me just rest for a while and I promise you later on I will bite if that’s what you need.”

Wanda rolled her eyes finding adorable your chuckled and your expression just as you started falling asleep. She let her fingertips caress your head, while she too close her eyes.

This was all that she needed it.

This was all the comfort she was seeking out.

A day ago, she had been mad, but most of all, she had been heartbroken believing herself a fool for ever thinking you could forgive her past sins. Or for even entertained the idea you would want her back in your life, now she was just lying there with you in her arms, fast asleep and a necklace that sealed a promise between the both of you.

With a whispered, ‘I love you’, from her part Wanda too fall asleep with the same content smile you were wearing in your sleep.

_____________________________________________________________

Next Chapter: Reader and Wanda have some fun together, Natasha comes with news and Yelena and America had started a new secret group everyone knows about but they like the ilussion of secrecy. Reader and Wanda have stop running and as time passes they finally take one last step towards happiness.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 16

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; pregnancy; symptoms of pregnancy; pregnancy complications; vomit; mention of urination; attempted SA; injuries

A/N: I am still not convinced that I like this one or the direction it takes the story, but I agonized over it for too long. So here we are. 💙

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

It was one of those days, weak from hunger and dehydration, that you struggled. You couldn’t ride on the bike with Daryl and were confined to the bench seat in the back of a beat up van that the group had grabbed when the old truck had run out of fuel. 

You were freezing, even with the two blankets wrapped tightly around you. You refused to complain, though. It seemed like you always needed something. Daryl was barely eating, ensuring that you had most of his portions as well, meager as they already were. He always placed you closest to the fire when it wasn’t too dangerous to have one. You were to receive any anti-nausea medications that were happened upon, leaving Lori to suffer through her own morning sickness. It didn’t matter to you that hers was just run of the mill nausea and would fade. 

At 24 weeks, you felt the baby fluttering more often but only inside. It made you wonder if they weren’t growing as they should. You could see the same grim notion in Hershel’s eyes when he would check on you; the way the others avoided your gaze all together. 

But not Daryl. 

He’d just sit with you, letting you curl into him for warmth, while he displayed the tiniest of smirks. 

“S’a Dixon. They’ll be fine.”

The reassurance always made you smile. Sometimes, he’d even press his lips to the top of your head as he pulled a blanket snug around you. He had found this god awful poncho, colorful and not him in every way, which meant that it suited him perfectly. Always keeping you on your toes. He relied on that for his own source of warmth but never objected when you would pull him beneath the blanket as well. 

“Gotta keep my human furnace functional.”

The van rolled to a stop, prompting you to sit up. 

“Why’re we stopped?” You asked from behind Carol’s seat. Rick looked at you through the rear view mirror. 

“Getting late and we’re all exhausted.” He gestured to his right so you’d look out the window. A large, tattered house with a fence. “Haven’t seen too many walkers so we’ll clear that and maybe stay a few days.”

There hadn’t been many stops for the past several hours. There were probably buildings nearby to scavenge, but it was getting too dark to attempt. You gave the slightest nod and sat back to wait for the building to be cleared. Carol opened the door to help. She was learning and helping more and more with the walkers, becoming self-sufficient. You had the gun Daryl had given you but were under strict orders from the archer that you were to stay away from any altercations unless absolutely necessary. 

Just as Carol disappeared, the bowman peered inside. 

“Ya doin’ okay?”

You tried to offer a reassuring smile but it just wasn’t there. “Yeah.” 

He was doubtful, had every right to be, but morale just wasn’t anyone's strong suit anymore. Expression drawn, he reached back to squeeze your knee. His hand was warm through your sweatpants. You almost asked him to stay with you instead. He was needed out there though, part of the muscle that made things safer for everyone. 

“How are you feeling?” Lori asked from the passenger seat once the door had been closed. She was reclined slightly, eyes shut. She had already begun to show, even being several weeks behind you. 

You shrugged needlessly. She wasn’t looking at you. “Okay, I guess. The meds helped.” Cursing yourself the moment the words left your mouth, you tried to backpedal. “I have a few if you want one.”

“I’ve been through this before. Mine’ll pass.” You could hear the smile in her voice, though you didn’t understand why. She and Rick acted like strangers in recent weeks. Everyone had their theories but no one dared speak them. 

“Well, if you change your mind—” you trailed off, sitting back to deal with your own bout of nausea. You were feeling better. The episodes came less as your pregnancy progressed, but when it hit, it hit hard. IV fluids had long ago run out, no luck in finding more. It was up to you to keep yourself going now. 

The door slid open, startling you from a light doze. Daryl moved the seat in front of you and offered his hand. 

“S’clear. Let’s getcha inside. S’got a fireplace. Getcha all warm an’ make somethin’ horrible to eat.”

You rolled your eyes and took his hand, dragging your cocoon of blankets out with you. “I don’t know if I can eat but I’ll try.” You knew it bothered him when you didn’t at least take a couple of bites, make the attempt even if you weren’t feeling hungry. Because you should be hungry. You were pregnant in the middle of an apocalypse never knowing where your next meal might come from. So, you tried, if for no other reason than to see a few of the lines on his face smooth out. 

“S’all ya can do really.”

You couldn’t feel his hand on the small of your back but you knew it was there. That’s how he had taken to walking with you. It felt both possessive and protective, neither of which you minded. It had been weeks since you had realized you loved him. Weeks of never knowing where you stood. No one dared make an assumption other than Carol. She was convinced your feelings were reciprocated. You just didn’t know. 

“Sit down over there. I’ll get the fire goin’.”

“I can do it.” You attempted, knowing full well he was going to shoot down the idea. 

“Nah. Sit down.” He waved dismissively, not even turning around. You sat back with a pout, feeling utterly useless. You couldn’t fight. You couldn’t hunt. You couldn’t even start a bloody fire. 

Rolling up your sweater a little, you poked at your round belly. The air was cold, goosebumps rising as soon as it hit. “Guess I’m good at growing you, huh, Thumper?” When you thought about what you had said, you let your palm fall flat across the taut skin, tears stinging your eyes. “Fuck. Not even good at that, am I?” You sniffled, glancing up to make sure Daryl was preoccupied. The last thing he needed was to deal without another bout of your emotional whiplash. 

You watched the man work at the fire. Rick was bringing pieces of wood that weren’t soaked, too preoccupied with his task to pay you any mind. You could hear Glenn, T-Dog, and Carl chopping up furniture. Lori, Maggie, Carol, and Hershel were either snooping around or bringing in supplies. So, you could stare without risk of being caught. 

Like everyone else, Daryl had lost weight, his face more angular, clothes fitting looser. Not only did he barely eat, he was by far the most active. He’d scavenge, clear homes, lead the caravan on his bike, and still leave for a day of hunting that was usually unsuccessful. The only thing he did less of than eating was sleeping. You woke up at least twice in the few hours you had, usually to go pee. You never had to wake him to accompany you. He was always sitting up beside you. 

It was all starting to show. The dark circles under his eyes. The way he’d lose his balance sporadically. You were worried. You just wanted him to care for himself. 

Unconsciously tapping your middle finger on your stomach, you flinched when you felt a ripple beneath your hand. No way. You had frozen as if the baby would get spooked and run if you so much as breathed. When it happened again, you laughed out loud, startling Daryl. Upon seeing your shirt up, the archer was up and striding toward you. 

“S’wrong?” He asked with notable worry, crouching beside your knees. You shook your head, slinging your tears. 

“Nothing’s wrong. Gimme your hand.” You wiggled your fingers in front of him, elated and impatient. His hand barely made it up before you snatched it and pressed his palm to your belly, feeling bad for the way the sudden movement made him flinch. It was just out of surprise, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from muttering an apology. You were just too damn excited. 

But then nothing happened. 

“I, uh—the fire.” Daryl began to pull away but you weren’t ready to give up. 

“They were moving.” You pressed a little firmer against his hand. 

“Doc said ya’d feel ‘em ‘fore—”

You watched his face the moment the little ripple bumped against his palm. His eyes, wide as saucers, were shining with tears he didn’t seem able to blink away. Because he wasn’t blinking. You were about to question if he was even breathing when he drew in a gulp of air as if he’d forgotten. 

“Was that—”

You nodded. “Thumper’s thumping.” A tear trickled down your own cheek but you refused to move in order to wipe it away. Good moments were few and far in between and that was a great moment. Another movement within you had you laughing, Daryl glancing up and back down. “Feels funky but it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.”

Your baby was moving. Alive and moving. It wasn’t a guarantee that nothing was wrong but it was something and you’d take that. 

The archer was still staring, cautious and curious, at his hand. He swiped his thumb back and forth over the skin, more than likely hoping for another movement. You were about to tell him it may not happen when he was rewarded with a small but firm bump to his palm. 

You laughed again, too engrossed in what was happening to notice Daryl leaning in. You lifted your head just in time for his lips to press against yours, both of your eyes shooting wide before he pulled away, hand and all. His reaction made it clear he’d been aiming for your cheek. 

“I should, uh—” 

The way he stood, nervously adjusting the crossbow’s strap as he backed away, made you anxious. The excitement was gone from his eyes, replaced with something you couldn’t even begin to decipher. 

“Daryl, it’s okay.” Shirt pulled down, you leaned forward, resisting the urge to reach for him.

“Nah, I—” he turned, making large strides out of the room. Foregoing your blankets, you were quick to follow. Daryl was standing a few feet from Rick, shifting from foot to foot like the panic was about to burst from within him if he stopped moving. 

“I’ll get the fire goin’ but man, it’s dark out. You can hunt tomorrow.” The former deputy shifted the wooden burden in his arms. He seemed to see something on the archer’s face that you couldn’t because he quickly relented. “Just be safe out there. What do you want me to tell Y/N?”

“Tell ‘er whatever ya want. She ain’t my problem, m’just here for my kid.” 

Your wet eyes stayed glued to where he had stood only seconds ago. At some point, Rick had noticed you, stopping beside you in the doorway. He would have squeezed your shoulder if not for the firewood he carried. 

“He didn’t mean it, Y/N.”

You couldn’t hide the hurt when you looked toward him, gaze seeming to look through him. “You sure about that?”

He wasn’t. 

Morning came and went, Daryl still hadn’t returned. Had he not left during the night, it wouldn’t be unusual. He spent many days out looking for anything that could be a potential dinner. But he always came back before dark. 

“You need to eat, sweetheart.” Carol gently stroked your hair while you looked out the window. You were cross-legged, wishing you could draw your knees to your chest and shrink into yourself but baby Dixon made that impossible. 

“Do you think he’s okay?” You asked quietly. 

“It’s Daryl. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Something about that answer didn’t sit right, no matter the good intention behind it. Daryl was only human. Anything but weak but no less human. You helped drag him from a ravine when he was barely hanging on to consciousness. If you hadn’t shown up when you did, the walker would have certainly killed him.

“I should go after him.” Even if he doesn’t care about me. 

“No you absolutely should not.” Carol’s hand stilled on the back of your head. “You’re pregnant, Y/N. It’s dangerous.”

“I can handle myself.” The quiver in your voice betrayed your attempted confidence. What if you couldn’t protect yourself anymore. Everyone had been treating you like a doll, fragile and useless. 

“You can’t go out there. Think of your baby.”

As if they could hear the concern echoing in the other woman’s voice, the baby moved, a whispered flutter just beneath your skin. Your hand moved of its own accord, gently massaging, reassuring the little life inside you that you were thinking of them. 

“I’ll wait.” You conceded, your shoulders slumping in defeat. Your baby needed to be your first priority. They certainly were Daryl’s. You supposed that was a good thing. At least he would be a present father. 

“I think he’s dealing with some serious emotions right now.” Carol had begun to pet your hair again, her voice soft and sure. As the first snow of the season began to fall, you leaned into her and allowed yourself some comfort. 

Still, your eyes never left the window. 

You had fallen asleep as Carol held you. You didn’t remember moving to the bed roll but when you forced your eyes open, the fire was burning brightly and you were bundled up. You stretched stiff muscles, pushing the blankets away. What had become a tradition, your bladder screamed for relief. You wouldn’t complain since it meant that you weren’t severely dehydrated. 

But it was cold and everyone was asleep. 

Biting your lip, you decided to venture out on your own. It wasn’t far to the tree line. Your holster was in the van, unable to wrap around your thickened waist. You decided to simply carry the gun and strapped your knife to your thigh. Your swollen belly altered your center of gravity, making it difficult to step over the lumps in blankets and sleeping bags. 

Glenn was nowhere to be seen, most likely patrolling the outside of the house. Hopefully you didn’t startle him. The snow had stuck, nearly two inches at least, and Daryl was still absent. It was beyond difficult to push down your worry, fight the urge to keep walking past the trees in the direction he had left. 

Just inside the treeline, you nearly moaned in relief that quickly passed into annoyance. With toilet paper and napkins being saved for the messier trips, you had to bear the cold biting your most intimate areas while you drip dried.

“God, the apocalypse sucks.” You complained under your breath. After an adequate—and brutal—amount of time, you were sure there was a layer of ice on your nethers. Panties, leggings, and sweatpants pulled up, you picked up your gun and stretched again. 

“Aw, the show’s over, boys.”

Your gun was aimed before the sentence was finished. Four shadows were spread out around you, one shoved toward you harshly. Glenn fell close to your feet, and you instinctively offered a hand and let him pull himself up. 

“Assholes jumped me.” Your friend staggered, choosing to hold onto the tree instead of putting his weight on you. 

“How many more of you are there?” One of the men asked, stepping forward so you could make out some of his features. 

“More than there are of you.” You silently clicked the safety off your gun.

“Getting knocked up when the world’s all fucked is pretty stupid.” The shadow to the left sneered. “Must be some good pussy if the daddy didn’t pull out.”

“You’ll never know.” You hissed, your freed hand clutching the sweater over your belly. “We scream, and our group will take you down before you can even reach us.”

“Y/N, there’s one missing.” Glenn was dazed, shaking his head as if he just couldn’t focus. 

“What?”

“There were four.”

Before his words could fully sink in, there was a knife pressed into the side of your belly, a bulky arm wrapping around to hold tightly to your left breast. 

“Drop it, or I’ll carve the little one out.” The tip of the blade pushed into your skin, enough for a small, damp patch of red to spread across your sweater. 

“Okay! Alright, I’m putting it down.” Flicking on the safety so the gun didn’t accidentally discharge, you let it fall to the ground with a dull thump. 

“Good girl.”

You visibly cringed, glancing over to find Glenn as his hands were restrained. He was having a hard time staying awake. Head injury. 

“Tie her hands and get her pants off.” Your breath hitched as the knife was pulled away, your holster ripped from your thigh. 

“Please don’t.” You begged, your body being jerked unnecessarily roughly to zip tie your wrists. A dirty hand ran across your stomach and down to your hip, squeezing uncomfortably. 

“She knows how to beg when she don’t got that gun.” He laughed huskily, leaning in too close. You reared back, turning your head to avoid his lips. “Don’t be like that, baby. We about to get to know each other real good.”

“Leave her alone!” Glenn tried to struggle upright, a boot to his stomach securing him to the ground. 

“Don’t worry, boy. You’re next.” The stranger standing over him chortled. 

What if these men were the reason Daryl hadn’t returned? What they had—

You flinched when the waistband of your pants was grabbed and pulled at, the hold too strong to struggle against. That sure as hell didn’t stop you from trying. If they were going to rape you, you wouldn’t make it easy. 

“Get off me!” You shrieked, not caring if you drew every walker in the vicinity. Maybe they’d hear you in the house. When your mouth opened to scream again, a dirty handkerchief was stuffed inside. The only thing worse than the taste was the smell, instantly triggering your nausea. 

The man grabbed behind your knees and pulled, sending you crashing to your back, your head smacking the unforgiving ground. The snow began to melt and seep through your sweater but your lower half was nearly exposed. Two men worked to undress you—maybe there was just one? They looked identical and moved in sync. After a moment, the two melted together. Now you had a head injury. 

It was futile to battle against the bile creeping up your throat. You had to tilt onto your shoulder to vomit, the viscous liquid seeping out around the fabric blocking its exit. With what little coherence you could summon you swallowed down what remained in your mouth. It would happen again but at least you wouldn’t choke on it this time. 

“Hoo, boys. Look at that pretty cunt!” 

Your face burned with shame, your gut churning, and your heart breaking. Daryl. It was the only logical explanation. They’d killed him and now they would kill you. One of them knelt between your legs, loudly working open his belt. Over the laughter and the clink of metal, you heard a sharp whistle. 

“What was that?”

“Where’d it come from?”

Another whistle, but this one was different. It was the sound of a projectile traveling to its target. Something warm ran down your right thigh. When you managed to raise your head, ignoring the throbbing, the man that was about to fuck you began toppling toward you, a familiar bolt through his eye. 

Daryl. You’re okay. 

You managed to move just far enough to avoid the dead weight before letting your head fall back into the snow, the cold soothing the ache. There were voices all around you, some distant part of you yearning to get up and help in the fight. 

“Stay awake, honey.” You opened your eyes to find Carol’s worried blue gaze looking you over while she ripped the disgusting cloth from your mouth. 

“Snuck up on us.” You breathed. 

“I know but they’re dead now. Or they will be.” 

You hummed, tuning her out when she began to admonish you for going outside alone. You were too tired to admit you fucked up. You could do that later. After a nice nap. 

“Nuh uh, girl. Open them eyes.” 

Something warm was wrapped around you, and you were gently lifted. The smell of leather and smoke wafted into your nostrils, and you knew you were safe. 

“Daryl—”

“This her blood? What th’fuck happened? Why wasn’t someone with her?!” 

When had he laid you on the bedroll? You squirmed against the cold hands on your skin, your clothes being completely removed. Had you dreamed it? Were you still out there?

“Be still, woman!” 

You exhaled. It wasn’t a dream after all. You were safe, the baby was safe. You could rest. Ignoring the pleas for you to stay awake, you followed the darkness into a blissful state of nothingness. 

“I’m fine!” You whined, swatting at Carol’s hands when she tried to roll up your shirt for the millionth time to check your stitches. “It wasn’t that deep and the baby’s been wiggling like a nightcrawler.” When the woman deflated, you leaned forward with a wince to grab her shoulders. “I’m fine.”

Daryl was perched on a chair in the corner of the bedroom they had moved you into, forever fiddling with his crossbow. He had long ago cleaned and prepped the two rabbits he’d brought back. Lori was handling those while Carol insisted on being your mother hen. The archer hadn’t left the room much, but he hadn’t spoken to you either. 

It wasn’t like you did anything damnable. You went to pee, thinking Glenn was safe and on watch. Why the hell was Daryl mad at you? He was the one that skulked off for over twenty four hours and scared the hell out of you! You should be giving him the silent treatment. 

You already kinda were. 

“Any headache?” Hershel asked, strolling into the room with some Tylenol. 

“Just a little.” You shrank back, suddenly feeling like a kid under the scrutiny of the older man. He held out the tablets and you took them without question. You stayed forward so he could probe the back of your head, hissing when he pressed against the sensitive lump left behind. 

“Swelling’s gone down but we still need to keep an eye on you. You took quite the tumble last night.”

“Wasn’t as much of a tumble as it was a thrown onto the back of my noggin.” From the corner of your eye, you could see Daryl go still, his fist clenching. “Doesn’t matter though. I’m good. Baby’s good. Glenn’s good. And we have meat for dinner! I’d say that’s a win.”

“Jesus fuck.” Daryl hissed from the corner. You turned your head so fast that your vision blurred and Hershel moved as if you’d slapped him. 

“What?” You clapped back, growing warm with anger. Carol and Hershel all but dashed out of the room. 

“Ya just gonna act like s’all good? No big deal? Ya almost got yourself killed, Y/N!” The crossbow was still on his lap, trembling from how hard he was gripping the stock. “Fuckin’ stupid.” 

“I was going to piss, Daryl! I usually have someone to go with me but you weren’t here!” You wanted to find the stricken expression on his face satisfying but somehow, it just felt bad. 

“Couldn’a got someone else?” His voice was calmer now, tired and raspy. 

“Why does it matter now anyway? Your baby’s safe.” You sank back against the headboard, grimacing when even the dusty but soft pillows made the back of your head sing with pain. 

“Yeah but you got hurt.” 

You heard his crossbow being placed against the wall but didn’t bother to look over. Your head was actually starting to hurt and dealing with Daryl wasn’t doing it any favors. “Your kid is your priority, Dixon. You don’t need to hover. They’re good.” Massaging your temples, you sighed. “I’m sure Hershel will tell you if anything changes.”

The mattress dipped beside you, your eyes opening and fingers ceasing their movements. Daryl wasn’t looking at you. He was actually looking at his knees, where one hand was clenched so tightly, his knuckles were white. His other hand was planted on the mattress, the trembling shaking the surface beneath you. 

“Ya heard that?”

You swallowed, your heart feeling heavy and suffocating beneath your ribcage. “I did.” You wanted to push him off the bed, yell at him until he felt as bad as he made you feel. 

“Didn’t mean it.”

You scoffed. “Then why’d you say it?” The archer looked pained, confused. “You know, it’s fine if you don’t want to be anything with me. Doesn’t mean we can’t raise our kid together.”

“That ain’t it.”

“Then what is it because this hot and cold with you is getting really old.” You laughed wryly. 

“I didn’t mean to do that.” He cleared his throat and sat back a little, hand hovering over your belly before he placed it on his thigh next to the other. “Kiss ya. Not, uh—not like that.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. His cheeks were tinted pink, the tips of his ears matching the shade. 

“That’s okay. I turned my head. It was—”

“I wanted to.” He clarified quickly, shutting you right the hell up. “Just didn’t mean to.” God, that man was confusing as fuck. Just like you had said: hot and cold. “Ain’t good with words. Never have been.”

You shrugged flippantly. “Always good with them when we’re fucking.”

“Y/N.” He deadpanned. 

“Sorry.” Licking your lips, you wiped away your smile. “So, you want to kiss me?”

“Yeah.”

“But it was an accident?”

“Yeah.”

“Right.” This was beyond hot and cold. This was eternal hellfire and hypothermia. “Daryl, can you just—say what you want?” 

“Told ya, ain’t good with words.” You opened your mouth but then he was leaning forward pressing his lips to yours, gentle and chaste, leaving you yearning for just a little more. His eyes were dancing back and forth between yours, fear and uncertainty blooming in the cerulean pools. 

“Do you want to know what I want?” Your fingertip brushed over the scar on this temple, moving his hair a little. It was growing and he wasn’t stopping it. You kinda liked it. Your focus returned to his gaze, and he nodded. “You. Me. Thumper. I never thought I’d have a family and then I thought I’d be a mom and you’d be a dad and we’d coparent as friends.”

“That whatcha want?”

“Shut up and let me finish.” You struggled not to laugh when his mouth shut with a click of teeth. “I want you and me to raise little Thumper. Together. Not as friends. It’s okay if you don’t wan—”

This kiss was a bit more. More tongues, more teeth, more vigor. When he moved away, it was only to start pulling at your clothing, coaxing a hearty laugh from your throat as he wrestled your sweatpants off with a bit of a struggle. 

“Wait!” You called out, holding out a hand to have him freeze. Your chin trembled with the absolutely agonizing attempt to hold back more laughter. “Does this mean you like me?” 

Your sweatpants landed on your face. 

“Shuddup.”

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 1. - Chapter 2. - Chapter 3

Chapter 4. - Chapter 5. - Chapter 6

Chapter 7. - Chapter 8. - Chapter 9

Chapter 10. - Chapter 11. - Chapter 12

Chapter 13. - Chapter 14. - Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Word Count: 1708

Chapter 16:

Once again, and as it was expected, arguments soon rose between the coven members. Yet through those arguments, confessions quickly came to light.

Like the fact that Alice recognised those markings, and was forced to expose one of her deepest secrets.

"I thought it was me, that it's my fault that I can't keep a job, that everything I touch turns to shit, that I couldn't save her" she confessed, refusing to meet any of your gazes. "I convinced myself they were birthmarks. Even though she had the same ones"

Jen seemed to connect the dots the fastest. "Wait, are we talking about a generational curse?"

You held back a groan the best you could, and all that was heard from you was a forced sigh.

Generational curses were the worst of the curses and you had been lucky to avoid them in your prolonged life. They were almost impossible to break, their bases so dark it was almost supernatural in terms of power.

While the tensions between the group intensified, you felt a sharp acute pain coming from both your shoulders.

With a loud gasp, you leaned forward; eyes wide open as you felt as if someone had touched a torch right on your skin.

You could not help but hiss and close your eyes momentarily, trying not to let this pain make you lose focus or have you on the ground.

Once was enough, your pride was not going to let you fall victim to it again; let alone let it make you kneel.

"Fuck" you cursed as you opened your eyes, pressing your teeth against one another and watched Alice rush your way.

To her surprise, you lifted your hand and motioned for her not to approach; confusing them group. Mastering all the self-control you had, you brought your free hand, placed it on the shoulder burning the most, and started to chant something under your breath.

White magic was barely noticeable beneath your hand, but a few seconds after, you constantly repeated some sort of mantra; you felt free of the pain, and you could breathe again.

Panting faintly, you looked at your audience; only two were not utterly surprised by your actions. The rest were both curious and slightly suspicious.

"How did you do that?" Alice asked, not expecting to have another protection witch in the group.

"Anti-curse spell. Works on the caster only, " you explained, not daring to check your skin for any marks.

You would deal with them later, when you would be free of any trial related danger.

Jen narrowed her eyes. "An anti-curse spell powerful enough to keep away a generational curse?" She asked rhetorically, clearly not believing you.

You had been honest on that part, feeling no need to lie. You had to give it to Jen for not settling for the breadcrumbs you had just given them.

However, now it was not the time to go into depth how you made such spell work.

Thankfully for you, the trial or the curse were furious with your little trick and chose to attack a different coven member... Teen.

Though this time, there was no burning sensation or anything mystical.

No, this time, something invisible hit the boy with so much force; it sent him flying.

You gasped and placed your hands in front of your mouth as you saw Teen being thrown mid air, smashing through the two way mirror glass of the recording booth and landing outside; right in the control room.

Everyone rushed to check on him, fearing for the worst after such attack; none questioning why the boy was attacked differently than the rest.

Thankfully, Teen was alright or at least not critically injured. He was even smiling faintly as he noticed almost everyone surrounding him; Jen having chosen to stay in the protective circle.

"Hey." He greeted weakly. "I got attacked by the curse. Does that mean I'm part of the coven?"

His innocent question made you smile faintly, relieved that he was okay. You slowly helped him to stand up, carefully ensuring he would not collapse any moment now.

"Blessings and burdens alike." You told him, seeing his naive little smile growing.

As you all gathered back in the recording booth, you started to discuss how to deal with this curse; the time on the metronome continuing ticking but this time you didn't know just how much Time you had been left.

In the end, by inspecting the broken record; a solution was found. Since the curse came from the record played backwards, the only way to battle it is to play the song normally.

Ironically, the song was none other than the Ballad of the Witches Road; sang by none other than Alice's mother, Lorna Wu.

Also, the genius mind of Agatha made the ultimate deduction.

"What did Lorna want from The Road? What was her intention? To save her daughter. You should have burnt to a crisp years ago, but here you are. Sullen and aimless, but alive. That's because at any given moment somewhere, someone is playing that song that you hate so much. Lorna's Ballad is a protection spell. It protected you."

Agatha's words seemed to bypass any of Alice's defenses, trying to win her over and give her the courage to play the song. Every member of the coven had to participate and since that trial was related to her mother, Alice was the centre of it all.

At Agatha's words, you could not help but glance to the ground momentarily. Hearing of Lorna's love for her daughter, going as far as to create a song spell to save her daughter... it made your heart ache.

You barely knew your mother, anything about her a distant and blurry memory at the very back of your mind. At least your birth mother, that is.

You did not have a motherly figure in your life, many witches doing the bare minimum to help you, but none wished to get attached to you; even though you were a little orphan girl.

Perhaps this was what had attracted you to Agatha in the first place. Being older than you and actually interested in being part of your life, had made you form an incredible bond with her; even if someone might argue this bond was one way.

Sometimes, though, you did wish to know more.

To know if this woman you had called your mother as a child, ghe very same one tht had chosen to look after and raise you, would have done something similar to protect you, rather than leaving through the door one morning and letting you wake up alone to an empty house.

You had never managed to find her again, and as for your birth mother, you had done a lot of research and got some answere; though you wouldn't mind to know more.

However, you feared it would not be possible; not with your situation.

Feeling a pair of eyes, you dared to search for them; only to see Agatha studying you. It was her turn to read through your fake mask and read your intentions, the topic of a mother hard to both of you; for different reasons.

Trying to look the other way, you were caught by Rio. She seemed to be intensely staring at you, though her gaze was soft; and you could swear you saw something that looked like sympathy or even regret.

"So," you cleared your throat. "Who plays what?" You asked, hoping to change the topic and also remind everyone that the metronome was still ticking.

"Okay, who's good on piano? Lilia?" Agatha asked, driving to take the lead since no one else was willing to do so.

"No. No, I studied the zils." The older witch argued. "And a little pan flute."

Defeated, Agatha turned to the other witch. "Jen."

"Ballet."

"Oh, come on, guys!" She groaned, not believing they were in such situation.

Their lives were depending on a stupid song, and no one seemed to have any music experience.

"I play guitar. Sort of." Teen informed a little shyly.

You chose to join. "I also do"

Your words made Agatha stare at you with an arched eyebrow. Her expression was literally screaming 'since when?'

You offered her a plain simple smile, unable to explain to her that you learnt Guitar during a difficult new moon; and then you kept it as a hobby.

Agatha did not comment about it but you could see the twinkle of interest in her blue eyes. When all of this was done and you had reached the end of the road, she would definitely ask you more about it; perhaps even make you play something for her.

Definitely not the Ballad of the Witches Road.

After some discussion that almost led to a argument between Jen and Agatha; you all found your respective instruments.

Rio had the drums, Alice the piano, Jen the Bass, Lilia the Zils (surprising everyone such instrtument was present) and you with Teen had the guitars.

"I am not sure how well I can play this" the boy confesed to you in a hushed tone as he fixed his grip on the instrument.

You both stood side by side.

"It's not a hard one. If you get stuck, follow my lead" you reassured him, a small smile just enough to make him relax a little bit.

He did and offered a small smile in return while trying to fix the guitar strap, all while doing the best to ignore the sharp pain coming from the side of hid abdomen.

Then, you did not notice it and failed to see that his landing was not as smooth or harmless as you thought it was.

Once everyone was ready, the lightning in the room changed and slowly you started to play the beat of the Ballad.

Agatha stood in the middle, right in front of the microphone and yet before she could truly start singing; the curse attacked her too.

"Agatha!" You and Teen exclaimed, almost rushing to her side.

"Keep playing!" She hissed, having bent one knee and supporting herself on the mike stand. "Keep playing!"

Left with no choice, you all focused on the rhythm as Agatha started to sing.

Chapter 17

[superprincesspea]

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 16 - Uncle

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

~~~

When you make it into the centre of camp, you can still feel the press of Aemond’s touch on your body, and the heat of his kiss on your cheek, but there’s no time to slow your racing heart. The wheelhouse is already coming to a halt and the groom is hurrying to open the door.

Your mother emerges first, her face seemingly horrified by your tousled appearance, as she rushes to smooth your hair and pull a stray pin from where its clinging on for life.  

“Just look at the state of you!” she hisses, and you wonder if your cheeks look as flushed as they feel. 

“I think her appearance is quite becoming,” Alicent says, emerging from behind your mother’s frown with a coy smirk before she glances around for the whereabouts of her son.  

“It was the wind,” you say, pushing your hair behind your ears while knowing fine well that the wind wasn’t the only thing which had tangled with it. There had been fingers, long, deft, and impossibly gentle.   

Perhaps Alicent suspects as much, her head tilting, regarding your appearance with more scrutiny than before.  

“Was it not the race?” she counters, and you swallow fresh nerves, wondering if everyone in the wheelhouse had noticed the way you and Aemond had charged down the road.  

“That too...” you admit, and she hooks her arm into yours, tugging you into a leisurely walk towards her tent.  

So much for staying with Cassandra , you think, glancing over your shoulder to where your mother and sisters are being left behind.  

“And who won the race?” Alicent says, drawing your attention back to her face. 

“I did, your grace.”  

“Ahh,” she smiles excitedly, holding you tighter, her cheek touching your shoulder for just a moment, “and was my son an insufferable loser?”

You laugh, despite the nerves knotting in your stomach, you can’t help it. Insufferable was certainly a choice word for her second son, and though you think her completely accurate in her estimation, you dare not say it.    

“Or is he just always insufferable?” she presses, seeming to sense your reluctance, and this time you manage to contain your amusement to a smile, though you’re feeling more at ease in her company. 

“Perhaps we can agree that all men are at least a little insufferable?” you suggest, and now it's the queens turn to laugh, her body shaking, her arm holding you tighter.  

“Only a little?” she says when she’s caught her breath, and you meet the mischievous look in her eye with a small smile before she releases your arm and gestures for you to enter the royal tent. 

It's far bigger than it looks from the outside, and so bright and airy, with the sunlight diffused through the thick white linen and a pleasant breeze blowing in at just the right angle. 

You take a seat on one of the green velvet floor cushions and Alicent sits across from you, before beckoning for a maid who places two cups on the low table and fills them almost to the brim with a honey-coloured wine.   

“You know... you can tell me everything ,” she says in a hushed tone when the maid has gone, and you think it strange to gossip with the queen about such things as suitors, stranger still that her son is the man in question.  

What could you possibly say? What did she want to hear?   

You let those questions go unanswered for long enough that Alicent speaks again.  

“I noticed you were riding Ōños,” she suggests, still trying to draw you into the conversation she wants to have, and her eyes are wide and probing, desperate for any scraps of information. 

“I was.”

“Strange ,” she continues, undeterred by your lacklustre answer, “I don’t believe my son has ever allowed anyone else to ride his horse.” 

“Then I should consider myself quite fortunate. Ōños is truly a wonderful horse.” 

“If he is wonderful then it is thanks to Aemond, my son is so diligent in all matters as I'm sure you must have realised by now?”  

“Prince Aemond is certainly...” single-minded, cocky, competitive, “ dedicated .” 

She blows out a small breath of satisfaction, seeming glad to imagine that you might see him as she does. Her golden boy, her perfect son. 

“He told me you almost beat him at Cyvasse the other day,” she smiles, delighted by the idea, and you try not to laugh. The last game you’d played with Aemond had been in his room, and he was letting you win, not succumbing to it.   

“That is an exaggeration,” you insist, wondering what else Aemond might have mentioned to his mother.  

Yet, her lips purse, and from the way she sighs, you imagine he has said as little as you are saying now, and you don’t know why, but you feel the sudden urge to reveal more. Maybe it's the way her eyes turn down or because, no matter the people surrounding her, she always seems so lonely.  

“The prince...” you begin and already you regret your words, but you can’t stop now, “was so kind as to give me a tour of the library yesterday.” 

“He did?” she brightens, “and what did you think?” 

“That it was very beautiful.” 

“And where you will always find my son, if you should ever have cause to look for him...” she leans forward, seeming to forget decorum in favour of answers, “ do you? Have cause to look for him I mean?”  

“Not that I can recall,” you say, feeling certain that Aemond was not the only single-minded member of his house.  

“Do you picnic here often?” you ask, changing the subject and Alicent’s eyes turn wistful, her gaze wandering across the camp.  

“I used to bring my children here all the time when they were small, away from court where they could just be . It's so wonderful seeing Jaehaerys and Jaehaera here now.”  

You turn your head, to look where she looks, and find them charging across the clearing with their wooden swords and shields clutched tightly in hand. But it's the determination furrowed into their brows which really catches your eye, and they seem to have only one opponent in mind when he strides from the woods- Aemond .   

Your heart skips, your cheeks flushing again as you watch the kindly way he reacts to their advance. Dodging their strikes, his laughter teasing but not mocking, before he scoops Jaehaera up, stealing her sword and using it to repel her brother.    

You watch them play for quite some time, content in the silence before the queen speaks again. 

“If a lady might wish to stay at court...there is always ample space in my retinue.”  

“That is very kind of you,” you admit, turning to face her, “but I am still very much looking forward to returning home.”  

“Oh? And what, might I ask, is there to look forward to?” she pries, sipping her wine, her brow raised, “a suitor , perhaps?”   

“Well... there is…” no suitor at all, only Lord Henry, but you could not tell the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms that you would rather return home to a cat instead of marrying her son, “my other sisters, of course.”  

“Of course.” She stares at you for a long moment, her finger brushing the patten embossed on the cup, “so many Baratheon girls and not one proposal this summer? Your mother must be beside herself.”  

“Not really,” you choke, glancing down to retrieve your own cup from the table and, when you look back at the Queen, her eyes have narrowed, as though she’s trying desperately to read your mind.  

“I think my son-” she begins, just as the man in question arrives, chased by the excited war cries of his niece and nephew and, for once, you’re grateful for his overbearing presence, and the very welcomed distraction from whatever she was going to say next.   

He falls on the rug dramatically and, from the queen's easy smile, you can tell this is not an unusual circumstance when the only eyes in the vicinity are that of family and very close friends.  

“By order of the Queen, I command you to tickle him to death,” she says, and the twins cast their weapons down in fits of giggles, little fingers reaching for all the good tickle spots while you cannot possibly stop yourself from enjoying every single moment of the spectacle.  

This was certainly not the Aemond you knew and loathed.   

Yet , the more you thought about it, the more you realised that wasn’t true at all. Not anymore.   

This was the Aemond who belonged entirely to the people who knew him best, and perhaps that number was limited to less than a handful, and maybe all of them were in this tent.   

“Won’t my lady save me from these hellions?” he says, repelling their onslaught with so much gentleness and good humour that your poor heart was skipping yet again.   

“I am afraid his grace is on his own, for I can see they are far too fierce to be trifled with,” you say, as though you are completely aghast at the suggestion. 

“You are quite right,” Alicent agrees and Jaehaerys seems to enjoy your words, his chest puffing out before he retrieves his sword to deal the final killing blow to his uncle’s ribs.  

You wince when it lands, knowing it must hurt terribly and that the winded groan is certainly not part of the game. But Aemond doesn’t shout or curse like your father would, he dies on the rug with more drama than he had fallen, and you must stifle your laughter with the palm of your hand. 

Victorious, the children leave, in pursuit of a fresh victim while the queen prods her son back to life.   

“I think you enjoy that even more than they do,” she says, and you suspect she might be right.  

“I’m merely teaching them how to fight without mercy,” Aemond decides, his eye betraying the serious tone in his voice, as he sits up on his elbow with his hair ruffled from rolling around on the floor.  

“Well, since you are in such a good mood for teaching, perhaps you’d like to show the Lady Baratheon how to play hoops?” Alicent suggests, scheming again. 

“As it happens,” Aemond begins, a slow smile inching onto his lips, “I seem to be forgetting that I should be staying at least twenty paces from the lady Baratheon, that was the original agreement, was it not?”  

You swallow, hard, remembering the details of your alternative agreement, the one where Aemond’s clothes had loosened from his body and your back had been pushed up against a tree.

But Alicent knows no such things and her excited stare flicks between yourself and her son.    

“Twenty paces?” she asks quizzically and you’re suddenly wishing the twins really had run him through.    

“It was a bet, your grace,” you say, giving Aemond a sharp look, a warning look.   

“A forfeit, actually ,” he retorts, the smile still firmly fixed on his face.  

“But why twenty paces?” Alicent prods, far too interested in the details, while your heart is pounding far too hard to think of anything good to say. Certainly not the truth. 

That you cannot trust yourself with her son. That even now, when you feel like you might kill him for bringing up the forfeit, you’re more annoyed about the consequences. Because you don't want him to leave, not really. Then again, you don’t exactly want him to stay either.  

It didn’t make sense, and you couldn’t explain it even to your own mind, but you needed Aemond Targaryen to be both twenty paces away and close enough to touch at the same time.    

Gods , you hated him.

“I cannot speak for the ladies precise reasoning,” Aemond begins when it's clear you’re not going to say anything , and the wicked look in his eye is keen to make a fresh appearance, “but I believe she wishes to prevent any further attempts I might make in asking her to be my wife.”   

“Further... attempts?” Alicent gasps, wanting to be certain she was hearing him correctly and she was. You'd heard it too.   

Why had he said that? Like it was nothing, like it was just something people said.  

“At least one more attempt,” he promises, pushing himself from the floor, his bow deep, and his eye only for you.  

Then, without another word, he takes his leave, sauntering across the clearing for exactly twenty paces yet not nearly far enough considering how much you want to kill him!  

Yet , killing him would have to wait and not just because of the witnesses milling around the clearing or even the way Alicent’s eyes are hot on your face. But because you can’t move or even breathe. Your mouth is hanging open and shock has drained all life from your limbs.   

“Hm,” Alicent says, a smile completely overwhelming her face, “so it seems there has been at least one proposal this summer?”

Gods , you feel as though you could die from embarrassment, but you don’t, and you can’t exactly ignore the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.  

“Please ,” your voice is as weak as a kitten, your cheeks as bright as the dragon on the Targaryen sigil, “excuse me.”   

She holds your stare, your stomach twisting with fresh knots before she nods with a small, pitying smile, “you’re excused. For now. ”  

You can’t dwell on what exactly she means by that, and you don’t want to. You stand on shaky legs and do what you should have done when the wheelhouse arrived in camp.   

You walk directly to Cassandra and cling to her side, feeling a heady mix of fury and anticipation each time you catch sight of Aemond, and recall the casual way he’d told his mother that he intended on proposing again .  

It was yet another humiliation to add to your repertoire, and for a man who had no intention of ever embarrassing you, he was certainly well adapted to it.   

You’re glad when it's time to leave and find yourself watching, with some regret, as Aemond races ahead of the procession with Ser Criston Cole, leaving you to travel with Ser Maurin as your only company. 

You’d like to say it didn’t matter, that the views were entertainment enough, but you’d be lying. The ride is hot, long and incredibly dusty. Its nearly teatime when you finally make it back to the Red Keep and there is so much fanfare and chaos to mark your arrival that you’re almost certain something has happened while you were away.    

The yard is crammed with people, double the amount from this morning and one of them is Otto Hightower, his face stark and serious as he waits to speak with his daughter.  

Trying not to stare, you encourage Ōños towards the stable and you’re surprised to see Aemond is waiting for you, resting against a post with a book to occupy his time.  

“I trust you enjoyed the ride home?” he says, looking up from the page before snapping the heavy cover shut.   

With a sigh, you swipe the back of your hand across your forehead and give him a pointed look. “You know I didn’t.”  

He smiles then, easing the book under his arm before opening the stable gate, and you wonder if Aemond’s the reason there are no stable boys or groomsmen to attend you. 

“I did as you bid me to and remained at twenty paces for the duration of the picnic,” he says, swapping Ōños’ bridle for a halter and you have to admit, you were somewhat surprised that he’d managed to maintain his end of the forfeit, and less surprised when he reaches to pull you from the horse. 

“Now we shall need to make up for it,” he says but you’d anticipated his touch and are quick to dismount on the opposite side to where he is standing with his arms still outstretched.    

“His grace seems to be implying that I missed his company. I must assure him, I did not .”  

When he laughs, the sound catches in the back of his throat, his arms falling back to his sides. “Then perhaps you’ll be glad to hear we had some guests arrive while we were at leisure.”  

You think of the chaos in the yard along with the grave look on Otto’s face. “Who?”  

“My sister.”  

“Princess Rhaenyra?” you say, not really a question, more the testing of a name which you’ve rarely had cause to speak until now.   

“One and the same,” Aemond answers, his tone flat, as he unbuckles  Ōños’ saddle before passing you a long brush to brush him down.  

A dozen questions spring to the tip of your tongue but you swallow them, suddenly recalling the knowing smirks which Alicent had been aiming at you all afternoon. 

Still, it wasn’t Ōños’ fault that his master was the worst man in the entire world, so you don’t throw the brush back at Aemond like you’re tempted to do, you run it across Ōños’ silky white coat with the reverence he deserves.   

Afterall, it wasn’t often you were expected to put away your own horse, but there was something strangely relaxing about the mundanity of the task, and you wonder if Aemond thinks it too.   

He’s quiet, perhaps even a little pensive, as he inspects Ōños’ shoes before finding another brush so you can work together, and it's a comfortable silence. The hubbub of the courtyard barely carrying past the stable doors.  

“I shall be eating dinner with my… family this evening. I don’t suppose you would care to join us?”   

“Me?” you scoff. “I’m quite certain I would rather-” you don't say more, you meet his eye, ashamed of your reaction. Dinner with the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was a great honour even if you didn’t want it.  

“You’d rather what ?” he moves so he can search your face more readily, “throw yourself from the tallest tower of the keep instead of breaking bread with my sister and her bastards?”   

Bastards?  

You inhale sharply, your mind stumbling over the word and Aemond let’s its usage swell in the silence, his eye still studying you. Testing you in some way. Perhaps he wants you to challenge him, to call him a traitor, but you don’t. You’re afraid of even hearing such a word.  

“Personally, I would rather throw myself into the mercy of the sea,” he admits, and his voice is soft, his fingers reaching to touch your hair, but you move away, thrusting the brush back into his hand.   

Just because you harbour no wish to speak ill of his sister, does not mean you have no wish to speak on other matters, “do not think for one moment that I have already forgotten what you said in front of your mother!”  

“What I said?” he asks, tilting his head as though he is completely oblivious, when you’re almost certain Aemond could count on one hand the amount of time’s he’d been oblivious to anything.   

“You know what I’m talking about.” Marriage, proposals. It was not the sort of thing a person could easily forget.  

Amusement flickers in his eye, “refresh my memory.”  

“I will not,” you snap, attempting to leave him behind as you exit the stable, but there’s really no escaping Aemond Targaryen’s long stride, and he’s soon hooking his hand under your elbow.  

“If you will not tell me of your complaint Lady Baratheon then please allow me to make you a promise...”  

You glance back at him, regretting your curiosity the moment his eye darkens.   

“Starting now,” he begins, leaning in as though you are conspiring, “it will be no secret that I want you, no matter who is watching us and, when you have my child in your belly, there will be no question over his parentage.”  

No question over his parentage?  

“There shall certainly be questions,” you retort tartly, snatching your arm away, “such as what in the world I was thinking in allowing you to put it there in the first place.”  

“I can suggest at least one reason,” he says, and you hate his stupid arrogant smirk just as much as you wonder what the exact details of that one reason would be. But not enough to ask him, certainly not enough for that. 

Instead, you turn back towards the keep and see a man stalking towards you, a stranger, yet you’re in little doubt of his pedigree. Even if it wasn’t for the white hair crowning his head, there’s a certain devilish cockiness which rests so comfortably on his face that you cannot help but think of Aemond. Just older, more battle worn, yet not worn out.  

Almost all the women in the yard are watching the way he strides and perhaps it’s because his leather trousers are indecently tight, his shirt billowing in all the places where it doesn’t plaster to his skin.  

You imagine he must have been practicing swordplay in the yard for quite some time, and the sword in question is still swinging in his hand, long and dangerous, steel glinting in the sunlight. 

“This is my uncle, Prince Daemon,” Aemond says, when he comes to stand directly in front of you, “and this is my Lady Baratheon.”  

“Your grace,” you curtsy, and Daemon sinks the tip of his sword into the dirt at your feet, his eyes slowly scraping from your face and down the entire length of your body as though he’s appraising every last inch.  

“Well done, nephew,” he smirks, his gaze flicking to meet with Aemond’s and you gasp at the audacity in his tone, your temper flaring when Aemond says nothing to refute him.   

In fact, when you tilt your head to glare at him, Aemond’s smiling as though he relishes his uncle's approval. As though the many weeks he’d spent tormenting you was, indeed , very well done.  

“Do not allow my presence to interrupt whatever passionate conversation you were having,” Daemon adds, leaning into his sword, his brow raised and his head tilting expectantly. 

You open your mouth to speak, to refute whatever ideas he might be having, but before any words break free, you feel Aemond’s hand on your back, the press of his fingers dulled by your cloak but impossible to ignore.  

“I was just telling my lady that I shall escort her back to her chambers,” he says, his arm sliding to command yours and you don’t refuse him, doing so would surely be a humiliation on his part and you’re not cruel enough for that. 

You dip into another curtsy for his uncle and allow Aemond to lead you away, stopping only when the yard is far from view, your arm hastening from his. 

“I shall be glad to escort myself the rest of the way.” 

“Very well,” Aemond concedes, his hand’s fastening behind his back, his head gesturing down the hall without complaint.  

You start, both confused and surprised by how readily he’d allowed the rejection of his company, but you don’t question it.  

You turn, thinking you should be pleased with the situation yet finding yourself quite vexed. And why? You certainly didn’t want Aemond Targaryen to escort you.  

Or did you?  

No , what you wanted was, in some ways, far worse. You wanted Aemond to want it enough to ignore your own stubborn resolve, and you couldn’t understand that desire any more than you could understand why you desperately wanted him to kiss you.  

You begin to walk, cursing every part of your mind which seemed to be succumbing to his infuriating set of charms, and you barely make it more than five paces, before his steps have fallen in time with yours. Not by your side as before, but behind as though you were his lady and he your humble servant.  

Stopping, you turn back to face him, “what are you doing?” 

Resting back on his heel, Aemond seems to give great thought to the question before answering with a shrug as though it was quite obvious, “ walking .” 

“But your room is in that direction,” you say, pointing back down the hall and a smile threatens his cheeks, his jaw tightening just enough to hold it at bay. 

“I’m not going to my room, but I’m glad to know my lady has memorised its location.” 

“Do not flatter yourself,” you say, quickly turning to hide your own smile, which has escaped, quite inexplicably, onto your face.  

Then you begin to walk again, and a tall, leather shadow mirrors your every step. Not at all rebuffed by your stubborn resolve, but diligent, single-minded, and you can hardly stand yourself for how much you enjoy it. Or how forlorn you feel when you reach the door to your chamber, and he turns away.  

~~~

Thank you for reading!! :)

[peachsukii]

𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

( chapter 4 - the grey )

『 ♡ pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo; pro-heroes au | friends to lovers 』

status: on-going rating: mature (16+) #✩.hollowheart

꒰ summary ꒱ A glimpse of hope appears out of nowhere, giving Bakugo and Midoriya the lead they needed to pursue your location. It proves to be much more difficult than they imagine, so they call upon some friends for a search party.

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ mentions of blood/violence, eventual & mild smut, kidnapping/abduction, experimentation, physical & psychological torture, PTSD, implied/referenced self harm, cursing, talks of trauma | angst with happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, regret, mutual pining, friends to lovers, insomnia, eventual romance

꒰ Ao3 version | word count; ~20.6k as of ch.4 ꒱ Master List 『♡』 this fic has a playlist! ✩

"So...let me get this straight," Uraraka ponders, finger on her chin while staring up into her metaphorical thinking space. "She's underground?"

"Yeah, I know, it sounds fuckin' insane." Bakugo shakes his head as he crosses his arms defensively. "But we gotta try. She needs m- our help."

Midoriya nods in agreement and turns to the group. "Sorry to ask on such short notice, but thank you all for -"

"Like you have to ask!" Jiro interrupts, hands on her hips. "She's important to us, too ya know." 

Bakugo and Midoriya had called all of their friends the following morning of your text, gathering an emergency rescue group. Uraraka, Kirishima, Jiro, Mina and Todoroki dropped everything they were doing and met up at Bakugo's apartment the following night. They needed a plan, one that the agency won't catch wind of before they can execute it. It wasn't going to be easy, that much the boys knew, but the consequences did not outweigh the reward - getting you home, safe and sound, was their number one priority. 

"The agency doesn't give two shits about this, so we're takin' it into our own hands. I'm done sittin' around waitin' for a miracle." Bakugo's words are flat as he motions for the group to follow him over to the kitchen table to analyze the diagram that him and Midoriya drafted. He points to the left side to start explaining their plan.

"Ears, we'll need ya to figure out where the compound is located, see if you can hear vibrations or some shit. It's gotta be somewhere in this field. Pinky'll burn a hole to make an entry point for us. They'll keep guard while the rest of us go inside. I'm guessin' it'll have multiple floors, so we'll split into teams to cover it all. I'll take the first floor, Deku and Icyhot take the second while Cheeks and Red take the third. Get in, search for her and other hostages, get 'em out and fuck up anyone in our way." He stands back, shifting his gaze to everyone's faces. "Got it?"

"You sure you wanna go alone, Kat?" Kirishima asks, quirking his head to the side. "Not sayin' you can't handle it, but I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

Bakugo grunts, casting his eyes to the floor. "It'll be fine. We'll have our comms and stay in contact."

Midoriya knew the reason why he wanted to go alone and didn't dare vocalize it to the group. He trusted Bakugo knew what he was doing, even if it meant going head first into danger by himself. They're top heroes - intuition is one of their strongest feats and he trusts his childhood friend with his life.

"Do we know anything about the drug they're making?" Todoroki asks, directing his question at Midoriya. 

He frowns in response. "Not much, unfortunately. I tried to analyze it in the agency lab and couldn't crack anything about it, didn't have enough of a sample to properly break it down. The only thing we know is that one dosage lasts about an hour."

"Deku, come with me for a sec," Bakugo demands, stomping past Midoriya and into his bedroom away from the rest of the group. Midoriya obeys and follows him down the hall, stopping in the doorframe.

"What is it, Kacchan?" he asks, unsure of what he needed him for. Bakugo droops his shoulders in defeat, palming his face in embarrassment. 

"Izuku, I need a favor." His voice is hushed.

Midoriya walks up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to gather his attention. 

"Anything, what is it?"

"Don't make me say it," Bakugo grumbles, shaking his head in disbelief that he was asking him for support a second time.

Midoriya knew exactly what that meant. He silently wraps his arms around Bakugo, enclosing him in a soft hug.

"We'll find her, Kacchan, I promise."

Bakugo loosely returns the embrace with one arm. 

"What if I'm not strong enough to save her again?"

Midoriya pulls back to look him in the eyes. "That's not going to happen, we have your back - all of us."

Bakugo knows his friends would support him through thick and thin, but that's not what he's questioning. The possibility of letting you slip away a second time is slowly eating away at him, afraid he'll have to experience you disappearing all over again. A quiet 'yeah' is all he can muster before composing himself.

Bakugo pats Midoriya on the head as he leaves the room.

"Let's get goin'." 

~ TIME: 8:39PM

An hour goes by as the group makes their way to Sector 42, enough time for the sunset to fade into a starry sky and help hide their presence in the night. The seven of them re-group in the same area that you'd previously disappeared in - the barren field. 

"Where did you say the portal opened?" Jiro questions.

Bakugo walks over to a set of rocks, pointing at the area. "Right there. Deku marked it a few days after it happened."

Jiro nods and kneels to the ground. She plants both her headphone jacks to the dirt and focuses for a few moments, listening for any frequencies below them. She hears it straight away, the sounds of metal clanging faintly in her ears. 

"Found it!" she exclaims, unplugging herself from the soil. "About 20 feet deep, and it's a huge facility. I can't quite tell how many floors, but it's big." 

"Knew I could count on ya. Pinky, you're up. Make a big enough hole for us to fit through," Bakugo orders, standing back with the others. 

"Roger that!" Mina gathers a coating of acid around her hands, forming makeshift armored gloves. She began to dig while oozing acid into the ground, carving out a tunnel for the group. The others stood nearby, keeping lookout for any potential sneak attacks. Bakugo can’t help but repeatedly thump his foot like an angry rabbit, his patience wearing thin as he’s forced to wait, not able to direct his anger at anything in the moment. He wanted nothing more than to blow the whole place to smithereens, scoop you up, and take you home. Uraraka notices his fidgeting and pulls him to the side.

"You wanna talk?"

"About what?" Bakugo grumbles, scrunching his brows at her in annoyance. Obviously, he didn't wanna talk about anything at all, let alone his feelings.

"Fair enough. How about I make you a promise?" she says, extending her pinky to him. "When we find her in there, you'll be the first one we call."

Bakugo stares at her, blinking a few times before sighing contently. He wraps his pinky around hers. 

"Thanks, Cheeks. I...really miss her." He lets his hand fall away from hers as she gives his shoulder a light squeeze. 

"Me too. You better make a move once she's back!" Uraraka bats at his arm playfully before skipping back to the others. Bakugo's got his arms crossed and nose to the sky, failing awfully at hiding his flustered expression. Meanwhile, Mina crawls out of the hole she's dug, covered head to toe in dirt. 

"Hah...okay," she pants, out of breath and wiping the sweat off her brows with the back of her hand. "It's wide enough for two people. It takes you to a hallway...that's all I could see. Bit of a drop, so just be careful."And with that, the plan was in motion. The five infiltrators shimmy down the hole one at a time, dropping into the hallway as quietly as possible. Bakugo and Midoriya exchange quiet glances, noting how off-putting the silence is to their entrance. 

"Eyes up, keep a low profile, and call immediately if something happens," Bakugo whispers. "And try not 'ta get hurt."

The four of them nod in agreement at him, partnering up according to plan and going their separate ways.

~ TIME: 9:18PM

Things are quiet in the compound tonight - eerily quiet. It's been days since your distress text was sent to Bakugo, leaving you yearning for escape to the outside world. Did he have a plan? Are him and Midoriya on their way? The lady who helped you steal your phone hasn't returned since that night, not since she took your phone back to the contamination room. Something felt wrong about this setup, that same gut feeling invading your body like the night of your abduction. You can't help but feel guilty about pulling the boys into potential danger, but what choice did you have? There was no possibility of you being able to escape yourself, much to your dismay. It was physically impossible without your quirk. Being helpless has been humbling, but a fucking aggravating experience.

You roll over on the cot, tracing imaginary drawings on the metallic wall as a distraction. The annoying 'beep!' of a keycard sounds from the cell door, but no footsteps follow. You're expecting a barrage of harsh commands, but they never come. Even though that's peculiar, you don't turn over to investigate - you couldn't give two shits about anything in the place any longer.

~ TIME: 9:43PM

Once they've successfully navigated their way through the compound, Uraraka rounds the corner of the steel corridor on the third floor with Kirishima at her side. She stalks slowly down the hall, taking time to examine all their surroundings. 

“Hey, up there! Looks like another cell,” Kirishima mutters, pointing over her shoulder. She silently nods in response.

The two of them approach the glass wall of the cell and carefully peer inside. Uraraka audibly gasps and she scrambles to the door, anxiously fidgeting with the electronic lock. She kicks the door as a last resort and is shocked when the cell door pops open, loosely swinging inward on its hinges. She pushes her way inside, a soft smile crosses her lips when she spots your form on the small cot. You don’t move out of habit, assuming it’s a pissed off guard coming to grab you for another round of testing.

“Found ya,” Uraraka sighs, desperately trying to hide the tears pooling in her doe eyes.

Is that…?

You flip over at the sound of her voice, bewildered at her physically standing before you. 

She’s not an illusion...right?

“Ochaco?” You compose yourself as you sit upright. “Is that…really you?”

Uraraka doesn’t hesitate any longer as she’s rushing toward you, wrapping herself around your frail form. One of her hands makes its way to hold the back of your head, trembling fingers clutching a handful of your messy locks. Her warmth engulfs you and coaxes the emotions to the surface that you previously submerged, soft hiccups bubbling in your throat. You return the hug, squeezing her tightly and shrinking in her arms. 

“Yeah, I’m here. I’m really here,” she assures, quietly stroking your hair. Kirishima comes into focus over Uraraka's shoulder.

"Hope we didn't scare ya!" he says while wiping a tear from his cheek. He strolls over to the cot and takes a seat next to you, gently patting your back. "Good to see ya!"

Uraraka pulls back and moves her hands to your shoulders. Her eyes are glassy as her lips curl into another smile, her signature dimples adorning her cheeks. You haven’t seen the sun in a months time, but seeing her euphoric gleam more than made up for it in the moment. 

“Before we talk about anything, I promised someone a small favor,” she says, nodding her head. She clicks the earpiece that adorned her helmet with one hand while thumbing away a stray tear off your chin with the other.

Promise?

“Hey, Dynamight,” she says over the intercom. The mere mention of his hero name from Uraraka is enough to make the butterflies in your stomach flutter ferociously. You can barely make out his voice through the device, but hear Bakugo’s signature twang when he replies. It makes your cheeks flush strawberry. 

She grins at you as she replies to Bakugo, "I've got a message for ya."

Your heart stops as Uraraka releases her hold on you and reaches for her helmet. Her hair ruffles from underneath when she tugs it away and shifts to place it over your head. She runs her fingers over your hand delicately, urging you to talk to him. 

She mouths ‘go ahead’ while holding the intercom button for you. Kirishima pats you twice on the shoulder for encouragement. 

How does she know?

You swallow, hard. Every nerve in your body is firing on all cylinders. There’s an endless amount of things you want to say to him, but that moment isn’t here yet. You choose to settle on a greeting, praying you don’t start bawling your eyes out. 

“Hey Katsuki,” your voice quivers as his name leaves your lips. 

You hear Bakugo suck air through his teeth over the radio communication, knowing he’s probably cycling through a million emotions over the sound of your voice, too. 

He clears his throat briefly before responding. “Hey…y’doin’ okay, Lite-Brite?” 

You can tell by the way his voice trembles that he’s doing his damndest to keep his shit together. Uraraka continues to hold the button on the helmet, motioning for you to continue talking. 

“Never better,” you joke, huffing out a laugh. “Food sucks here, though. I had to trick myself into thinking it was your cooking to even stomach it.” 

He exhales a quiet laugh. “I’ll make ya whatever you want when we get home. Now get your ass movin’ so we can get the hell outta here.” 

The signal turns off with a click. Uraraka takes the helmet from your head carefully and places it back on her own. 

“You’re gonna have to tell me everything about you two when we get home!” she exclaims, pinching your pink cheeks lovingly. “I’ve missed you - we all have.”

“It’ll be a relief to have you home,” Kirishima chimes in. “C’mon, lets get a move on.” 

He stands from the cot and extends his hand for you to take. Him and Uraraka help you to your feet as you brush yourself off and fluff your hair over your shoulders.

“Are you hurt at all?” Kirishima asks, removing his arm from your back. He takes a look at your arms - they're covered in bruises of varying sizes and colors.

“Not on the surface, no. It’s a long story,” you explain. “The condensed version is they’re formulating a quirk suppressing drug. The experiments they’re running down here are fucking horrific.”

His face morphs into shock and slowly fades into sympathy. Flashbacks of the Overhaul situation from high school come flooding back to him, wincing at the thought of another anti-quirk uprising.

“But you’re okay?” Uraraka asks a second time as she takes your hand in hers, one pinky lifted to prevent her quirk from activating.

You decide to spare her the mental agony you've been through, saving it for later. “...yeah, I think so. Just exhausted. My quirk isn't fully restored, either.”

Kirishima’s earpiece beeps twice when a muffled voice comes through. He turns his head while clicking the button to respond.

“Yeah, we’ve got her. How’s it goin’ up there?” he asks. The voice that responds faintly resembles Midoriya's. He responds once more before clicking off the communicator. "Alright, we'll head up now. Hang tight!"

“There’s one stop I’d like to make before heading upstairs,” you say, knowing you do not want to leave the prison in your current hand-me-down clothes. “It’s around the corner.”

~ TIME: 9:54PM

Once you've successfully retrieved and changed into your hero suit, along with collecting your cellphone, the three of you proceeded to the second floor to meet up with Midoriya and Todoroki. You can't help but notice how the material hangs from your frame and no longer hugs you comfortably. It's to be expected, all things considered. Even though they fed you, the stress was more than enough to cause you to lose weight and muscle strength over the course of the month. If anything, it pissed you off to know you'd have to work hard to build back your prior stamina. 

They didn't bother to wash the damn suit, either. It thankfully didn't smell, per se, but was covered in aged splatters of dirt and grime. Your phone screen was also cracked, hinting that the lady who helped you dropped it "for effect," or some other stupid excuse to inconvenience you.

Your ears perk up at the sound of voices around the corner as Uraraka, Kirishima and yourself are approaching the second floor corridor. 

"There's only 10 hostages here, that's strange," Midoriya explains aloud, presumably to Todoroki. "I thought the reports noted more than 10. Maybe I'm misremembering..." his voice tapers off as he begins mumbling to himself. Oh how you've missed the sound of his rambling, something so minuscule but endearing about him. 

The three of you come into view, catching both of the boys' attention. Midoriya's eyes whip up toward you, emeralds glistening when they widen under the pale hallway lights. He’s charges down the hall to you, tripping over his own steps from the pure adrenaline pumping through his veins. 

"Izuku!" you cry out when his body engulfs yours, gripping onto the back of his costume and squeezing the material as you buried your face into his shoulder. You can't help the tears reforming in your eyes as he spins you around, overwhelmed with joy to see you safe and sound. Before you can stop the tears, you're sobbing into the crook of his neck - a combination of relief and dread. 

"Hey...it's alright, Y/N. You're safe," he soothes. "It's okay."

Midoriya places your feet back on the floor, pulling back and cradling your face tenderly. Not surprising, he's got tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, too. He wipes some of the tears from your eyes with his gloved hand.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?" he asks, dropping your face from his hands while assessing your body for any visible harm. 

"N-no. Couple bruises, but that's about it," you stutter, a sudden tremble taking over your body. "Quirk's not..." you trail off while your vision dilates out of focus for a second. Midoriya doesn't skip a beat and catches you by the shoulders.

"Save your energy, Y/N. I'll carry you upstairs, okay?" his smile is genuine, but you can tell it's laced with anxiety. "We'll get you back to the entrance with Ashido and Jiro, they're keeping watch outside. We'll get the hostages out of here, too."

You nod, the vitality within you draining at a brutal pace. Could it be withdraw symptoms of the quirk suppressant? Is it possible to get addicted to such a drug? You're not sure what in the hell they mixed with the drug itself, it seemed to be different concoctions with each test. You're praying to any deity that would listen to be free of this hell.

Midoriya gives you a quick peck to your forehead before turning around, arms out and ready to lift you onto his back. Uraraka places a hand on your back to help you into his hold, securing your arms around his neck and legs tucked at his sides. 

"Uraraka, Kirishima, come help me gather the hostages," Todoroki notions, waving a hand to the cells at the end of the corridor. 

"Go ahead, I'll regroup with Kacchan upstairs and get her to safety," Midoriya vows with determination. The others hum in acknowledgement as the party separates.

~ TIME: 10:02PM Bakugo's stalking the area of the first floor, seeing a bunch of empty laboratories and rooms with no one in them. No one has reported any sightings of scientists, workers, or anything since they broke into the compound.

What the hell? Ears said this place was rattling with vibrations. Somethin's not right.

He's habitually calm during patrol missions, but now? His nerves are on fire, shoulders tensed from the stress in his heart. Bakugo couldn't shake his intuition, guts churning with unease at the silence of the facility. A faint scraping sound catches his attention, spinning on his heel with an arm raised. Taking careful steps, he makes his way back toward the entrance and into, what he presumed, the large concourse.

"It's about time one of you shows up," a woman's voice calls out, reverberating off the walls. Bakugo jumps back a few feet, gauntlets raised and hands prepared to fire explosions at any second.

"Who the fuck are you?" he seethes, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent his anger from overflowing. 

He hates that his gut feeling was right. ~ TIME: 10:12PM Midoriya is taking his time with you on his back, vigilantly navigating the two of you to the first floor. He's attempting to keep you as steady as possible, even though you've told him multiple times you're unharmed. Your head is tucked against the back of his shoulder.

"You holding up okay?" he asks, tilting his head back toward you.

"Yeah, thank you. I feel like if I let you go, I'll float away," you mutter, bitting your lip to prevent more tears from spilling out of your eyes. You're so fed up with crying, not wanting to be perceived as weak - a damsel in distress. Midoriya would never think you're anything less than strong, and you knew that in your heart, but still can't help feeling powerless in the moment.

He gives a reassuring squeeze to the back of your thighs. "Don't worry, no one will take you away from us ever again."

BOOM!

Midoriya halts in surprise, looking upward as the floor shook. The sound shakes you out of your self-deprecating chain of thought.

"Kacchan?! What's going on?" he asks frantically into his earpiece. There's static on the other line - no response. A few more explosions ring out above you two, increasing in succession.

"Dammit! Hang on tight," Midoriya warns, rocketing down the hallway while green energy begins crackling around his legs.  ~ TIME: 10:14PM "Talk about jumping the gun," the woman taunts Bakugo, sneering in his direction from across the lobby. "Afraid of the presence of a strong woman?"

Bakugo stood his ground, eyes fixated on the woman in the lab coat before him. Was he scared of her? Fuck no, not in the slightest. The thing that frightened him was she was alone - no one else showing their face in the facility thus far. Where was the man that took you away into the portal? Or any of the "henchmen" from that night?

"What an honor to have a top ten hero visit our lovely establishment, especially number four himself."

"Don't flatter yourself, especially 'cause you're alone," Bakugo yells back at her. He's trying to weed out the possibility of a sneak attack and rile up the woman to reveal her hidden defense. He knows she's got backup here, but where the fuck are they be hiding?

"Am I, though? I thought heroes were trained to have keener senses." 

Shadows appear on each side of her as her words hang in the room, revealing two more white cloaked men armed with dart guns. They simultaneously aim at Bakugo, the canisters reflecting the dark liquid in the chambers under the dim lighting.

Shit...! ~ TIME: 10:15PM Midoriya is approaching the open lobby with Bakugo in his sights in the main concourse. You can see over his shoulder that he's standing defensively, presuming that the enemy finally played their ace. 

"Izuku, I need you to launch me in front of Katsuki," you instruct, pointing a finger to his location.

"What?! No! I need to get you out of here," he retorts, shaking his head.

"Izuku. Please." 

Midoriya huffs, knowing you will not take no for an answer. Your heart is in the right place - he's right. You're in a weakened state, you should be rushing to the exit.

But that's not what heroes do. ~ TIME: 10:16PM "It was nice of that naïve little bitch to drag more heroes into our testing ring! Want a sample, darling?" She boasts, one hand on her hip as she points toward Bakugo with the other. "I think he'd benefit from it."

Bakugo hears a dart gun fire, but is distracted by a burst of energy shot out of a nearby corridor, blinding him momentarily with its radiance. He covers his eyes with his gauntlets, bracing himself for a surprise attack from the front as he takes a knee to the ground. He could hear the sounds of feet scuffing in front of him, along with glass hitting the ground, as if someone slid in from the sidelines. 

It wasn't an attack - no, it was a defensive shot. He squinted to sharpen the image of the shadow of whoever rushed to his defense, assuming it was Midoriya.

Time ceases its natural flow as Bakugo realizes who’s standing in front of him. He was speechless, mouth agape as he couldn't help the few stray tears fall from his awestricken eyes and roll over the leather of his mask. 

A glimmering energy shield danced in front of the two of you as you peer over your shoulder, shooting him wink and a smile.

"It's fine now, Dynamight. Why? Because I am here!"

Bakugo snorts, laughing hysterically at the absurd comment. His laugh is contagious and gets you giggling - your heart soars into the heavens hearing his laughter again, his joy curing the darkness swirling in your head temporarily. You never thought a moment like this would return to you anytime soon, and yet here you are, cackling at a dumb joke with your best friend on the damn battlefield. 

"Get up already, idiot," you chuckle, turning toward and extending a hand for him to take. His signature shit-eating grin spreads over his lips as he takes your hand with no hesitation.

"You came," you whisper, his hand lingering in your grasp.

Bakugo smiles, his eyes the gentlest you've ever seen them. "You called."

He tugs you into a hug, careful not to crush you too much with his gauntlets. He wants to melt into a puddle with the way you're clutching onto him like you can't get close enough, burrowing your face into his chest. You breathe him in, the faint scent of burnt sugar filling your senses while clawing at the back of his hero suit, not able to contain the heartache of being apart for so long - how it could have been your final days in this wretched hell.

Finally - you're reunited. You've found him, and he's found you. 

Everything's going to be...okay.

"Y/N, Kacchan - watch out!" Midoriya calls from hall, black whip vines reaching for the two of you. 

But it's too late. 

Again.

The energy barrier crackles behind you as it evaporates into the air. Everything begins to fade into a haze, that all too familiar filtered vision returning to you. Soon enough, you're slumping into Bakugo, your feet failing to keep you upright. 

"H-hey! What's wrong?!" he panics, clutching you tighter as your arms go limp, letting go of his back. "Talk to me, Y/N! What's happening?!"

That's when Bakugo peers over your shoulder and sees one of the dart capsules stuck in the back of your thigh, the injection mechanism switched on with an empty vial. There's a set of broken glass nearby, but that was only one of the darts. The second broke through the forcefield, your quirk not strong enough to parry both shots.

You can take it - you've endured it for a month. 

What's one more dose?

"Fuck! Lite-brite, hang on, I got ya," he reassures while taking a knee, lying you down as daintily as he can before ripping the dart from your thigh. You don't react - shit, you can't even feel the needle being pulled from your skin. He watches your eyes glaze over, their usual shine lightless under whatever chemicals are working their way through your system. 

"K-Ka-Kat-suki...," you whimper through broken syllables, unable to form a coherent sentence. 

Bakugo strokes your shoulders. “I’m here, I’m not leavin' ya.”

"Aww, what a lovely reunion!" the woman chimes in mockingly, regaining Bakugo's attention. The guards next to her have sheathed their guns and stand with their arms crossed.

"Color me surprised that she not only has connections to top ranked heroes, but close relationships with them? Talk about luck."

"What did you do to her?!" Bakugo's chest tightens, fury brewing hotter within himself. Midoriya makes his way over and slides to the ground beside Bakugo in a defensive stance.

"Little miss hero has been such an obedient subject, our best results thus far. Her quirk factors are strong - exactly what we were looking for."

"What did you give her?!" Midoriya repeats, eyes narrowing in her direction. 

The lady cackles to herself, proud of her accomplishments in breaking you from the inside out for her own benefit. 

"She was gullible enough to believe I was an undercover hero! I let her reach out so it would be easier to round up more test subjects - especially heroes. These civilian quirks were getting tiresome and boring to study." 

You were so fucking stupid for believing her. How could you be so naïve? The torture of this place was getting to be too much...you needed a miracle, no matter how narrow the possibility of escape looked. The desperation to be free was stronger than the ability to see through her lies. 

"She fell into our laps at the perfect time. Her psionic energy quirk has been groundbreaking for our serums, especially the hallucination and forced quirk exertion compounds. Speaking of, that one should be kicking in any minute now."

On queue, your body begins to twitch on its own, a surge of energy zapping you back to life. It's as if you're being puppeteered by an invisible handler, rising from the ground and to your feet. 

Both boys rocket to their feet, taking a guarded step back from you. Your head hangs low while your fingers flex, a glow emanating from your palms. Before they can ask any questions, your head snaps up at them, a spellbound look in your now flickering irises. 

"-the fuck?" Bakugo mutters, a horrified expression on his face. The pain is excruciating as the pressure of the energy is begging to be released in any way possible. You can't vocalize the pain through your quivering lips, the only hint at the anguish being the lone tear streaming down your face. 

"Now, subject 57 - begin sequence 23," the lady dictates, clapping her hands.

The instinct to fight becomes impossible to ignore, drowning out all of your attempts to regain control of your body. Instead, you're on auto-pilot, launching an attack toward Bakugo and Midoriya. They dodge out of your range, but you pivot lightning quick toward Midoriya, gunning to attack him.

"Hey, it's me! Izuku!" he yells as he weaves through your strikes, thinking it could wake you up from the mind control of the drug. "You know me!"

You successfully land an energetically charged punch to the right side of Midoriya's jaw, knocking him backward before kicking him in the chest and sending him skidding across the concrete. 

Bakugo approaches you from behind while you're distracted, gripping your shoulders firmly. 

"Calm down! We can work-"

You silence him by placing a hand on both his gauntlets, not bothering to turn and face him. Shockwaves of energy come bursting from your hands - his gauntlets shatter into pieces instantly, leaving his arms and face cut open from the shards. Next thing he knows, your fist is connecting to the underside of his jaw.

Bakugo grunts from the impact, gritting his teeth as he's trying to hold onto you a second time. 

"Hey! I know you're in there!"

Should we answer the door, or slam it in his face? 

…who the fuck is in my head?!

The devilish grin settling on your lips is enough to send shivers down his spine - that's not you. Something’s gotta be fucking with you in your head from the drugs. He swallows nervously, not knowing what to do to help you. You shove him away from you with an energy blast to the chest, sending him careening to the concrete like Midoriya. 

Your chest is heaving, huffing and puffing as the drug surges through every avenue of your body. You can barely form a cohesive thought, let alone understand what's happening around you. It's as if you are seeing yourself through a kaleidoscope lens - this unknown version of you  in the drivers seat. 

“What a marvelous display of success!” The woman cheers, hands clasped in front of her happily. “The ‘Overdrive’ serum is exceptional in true combat.”

Something whips at you from behind and wraps around your arms and torso. 

“Stay…still!” Midoriya shouts, pulling the black whip vines taut to keep you in place. You wiggle in its grasp, grunting and thrashing around like a caged animal. 

“Ah, fuck that hurt…Deku! Let her go,” Bakugo calls out as he’s picking himself up off the ground, wincing at the pain in his jaw. “I got her. Take care of that bitch in the coat!”

“But Kacchan, the drug-”

“Trust me, dammit! Let her go before I make you!”

Midoriya retracts black whip as it releases its hold on you. He’s about to leap toward the group of scientists when the rest of the rescue team appears with the hostages in tow, scurrying down the far hallway. He motions for them to keep going to their exit as planned. Uraraka shoots him a nod and thumbs up. 

“Huh? Who opened the cell locks?!” The lady yells, pointing to the rescue team as they disappear down the corridor to freedom. She’s about to charge after them when Midoriya stomps in her path, fists raised in preparation to fight. 

“Your fight’s with me, lady. No matter what, you’re under arrest according to the laws of hero society. You can surrender, or I can make you surrender.”

“It’s gonna take a lot more than a threat to bring us in, hero. We’re making world changing progress that's far beyond your jurisdiction.”

Midoriya winds back and jumps into action against the scientists. Meanwhile, Bakugo’s got his eyes locked on you on the far side of the room, gesturing for you to come over to him. 

“I’m not gonna hurt ya, I don’t wanna fight,” he starts, taking cautious steps in your direction to close the gap between you two. “I wanna help, Lite-brite. I know you're in there.” 

You can't trust him, he's a monster and you're his prey. He's only here to hurt you, to keep you down. Don't let him near us...don't let him near us!

He stops in his tracks when you visibly recoil, clutching your head in your hands with a blood curdling scream. Midoriya whips his head around to the sound, catching him off guard and causing him to take a hit from one of the men. He shakes it off, trusting Bakugo with your well being instead of rushing to your side. 

Bakugo sprints to you, wrapping his blood stained arms around you with no hesitation. You flail, smacking at his arms with open palms, weakened energy pouring out of you with each hit.

Hurt...kill him. Take the monster down.

"Let go of me, Katsuki!" you shriek out of nowhere, hopelessly trying to shove him away from you. 

"No! I'm never letting you go again!" he shouts back, squeezing you tighter. The bursts of energy from your palms are kicking up in strength again as you continue to swat at his body, red marks forming on his exposed skin. 

"I'm not fuckin' losing you a second goddamn time!" 

He can tell that you're spiraling, that this serum is driving you mad inside your head. If only he could go into your mind and pluck out those vicious thoughts, free you of the agony and take some of that weight onto his shoulders.

If you don't take care of him, I'll make you.

"I don't want to hurt you, I can't control this!" You're sobbing, the looming thoughts forcing you to wallow in the pain. "Please...!"

Bakugo grapples the back of your suit, the neoprene material bunched in his shaky hands, locking in his decision to stay put. "I can take it...don't you dare let me go!"

Something in his declaration to stay by your side snaps you back to reality, enough to control the output of your quirk for a split second, stopping the outbursts of energy. The clouds in your eyes start to disperse, clearing the fog from your sight.

You can fight me all you want. I'll always be part of you, waiting in the shadows for you to break again. 

No words leave you as tears gush from your swollen eyes, bawling against Bakugo's chest in defeat. He loosens his grip to pull you away from him, forcibly making eye contact with you. His heart sinks at the sight of your bloodshot stare, but he can see that you're eyes are not as nebulous as before, energy no longer dancing around your pupils. Maybe the drug is wearing off? It's hasn't been an hour, but it's possible this version has a shorter fuse than the normal quirk suppressant.

"No need to cry," he comforts, thumbing away the tears dribbling off your chin. "Everythin's fine. See? Just a few scratches." He points to his biceps and cheek, tiny cuts from the shards of his gauntlets explosively bursting apart. 

That well-known lightheadedness from past experiments returns tenfold, your body's energy depleted to nothing. Bakugo must see the exhaustion in your body language as he helps you settle onto the ground. He takes the mask off his face, untying the back of it. 

"Sit back for a sec."

Bakugo pushes the hair out of your face and runs his hand into your hairline, brushing it back as he stretches the leather of the mask over your forehead. He ties a small knot at the back and tucks it under the remainder of your hair, creating a makeshift headband. Once he's satisfied with it, he taps the earpiece to call into the rescue team.

"Need someone to call the agency, get the cops here an' round up these assholes."

Kirishima responds instantly. "You wanna call the agency? I thought-"

Bakugo cuts him off. "Change'a plans. Get on it, Red! And have Cheeks come back down, need her to lift Lite-brite outta here." He huffs before tapping the earpiece a second time to disconnect the line and casts his eyes toward Midoriya. Two of the scientists are knocked unconscious, the only person left being the witch that started it all.

Bakugo's attention is drawn back to you at the sound of your sniffling. Your tears have dried on your cheeks, faint stains reflecting in the light. He knows you're safe now, no longer lashing out uncontrollably from the fucked up substance in your system. You look like you could collapse and pass out at any moment, but are fighting the urge to let yourself rest.

"Hey," he mumbles, almost too quiet to hear. You turn, head tilted to the side like it's too heavy for your neck to hold, blinking lazily at him.

Even in this disheveled state, Bakugo is aching to kiss you. He knows it's not the right time, not even close to the perfect moment, but the desire burning a hole in his chest is difficult to ignore. Fuck - he didn't even know if he was ever going to see you again outside of his dreams, and here you are.  ~ TIME: 10:38PM "You think you have me cornered, don't you?" the lady jeers at Midoriya. "A revolution is upon us - my revolution. My masterpiece is ready."

Without warning, she pulls a dart gun out of her lab coat, positioning it against her jugular vein. The sounds of her wicked snickering fill the concourse as the dart gun fires, injecting an unknown toxic into her bloodstream.

"Kacchan!" Midoriya cries out, catching Bakugo's attention. "We've got a problem!"

The dart gun clatters to the ground as the scientist convulses, her limbs spasming unnaturally as she wails in pain. She composes herself after a moment, raising her gaze from the floor to Midoriya, her eyes aflame with energy pulsing out of them.

Holy shit. 

She's got your quirk.

"Not so tough now, boys! Now come on, let's dance!"

⋆ ˚ʚɞ — i'm so, sooooo sorry for the delay on this chapter! hopefully it being the longest in the series makes up for it! i honestly just kept writing, deleting, writing, deleting for over a month. but i'm content with this. enjoy the ride! ⇢  tag list! @bakugouswaif @k1tk4tkatsuki @bells2319 @st0nedbitch @deftonianfr @musicbecky @bakubae-by @slayfics @maddietries

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 21

dbf!joel miller x female reader

"If we died tonight, I'd die yours,"

summary: joel found you

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 21

masterlist!

previous | chapter 20

next | ending

The cold seeped into your bones, icy and unyielding against the concrete floor, and you could feel every bruise, every cut, every ache in your body.

The pain was an unrelenting, throbbing reminder of everything you’d endured, but that wasn’t the worst part. What tore at you now was the horror of seeing Emma, your best friend, taken from this world in a way you wouldn’t have believed possible had you not witnessed it with your own eyes.

Her life, her laughter, her warmth—gone. Because of you.

A sob caught in your throat as the weight of it crushed you. Emma hadn’t deserved this; she had a whole life stretched out before her, full of hope and love.

She had just started it, a new chapter, a new promise. And now, because she’d tried to save you, it had ended in unimaginable horror. The images wouldn’t leave you, wouldn’t stop replaying in your mind.

Jim—God, he was probably gone too. Gone, because of you.

Desperation clawed at your chest, leaving you empty and hollow. You could feel yourself slipping, hope draining out of you like a slow bleed, and something bitter was taking its place.

A deep, aching question clawed at the edges of your mind, one you’d never dared ask before, but one that refused to stay silent any longer: 

Why would God let this happen to you?

You’d loved Him, stayed faithful, tried to be everything you were taught you should be. And yet, here you were, in the darkest pit, left to rot. 

Why?

Tears blurred your vision, and somewhere between the sobs and the silence, you felt something break inside you.

You stopped praying, stopped hoping for anything good. The words, the comfort, the promises—all of it felt hollow.

You were empty now, just a shell of everything you once believed.

The door creaked open, and in he came—Negan, his footsteps echoing like the toll of a death knell. He looked at you, pity mingling with something else in his gaze, a twisted satisfaction.

A smirk tugged at his lips, and he shook his head, his voice dripping with mocking sympathy.

“Aw, look at you,” he cooed.

“See, doll, I didn’t want it to come to this. But you had to go and make things difficult. If you’d just listened to me—if you’d been my good girl—none of this would’ve happened.”

The rage bubbled up, scalding and raw. You looked at him, every ounce of hatred burning in your eyes. “What did you do to her?” The words barely made it past the tightness in your throat, but they were laced with venom.

You could feel it, the sickening truth—whatever he’d done, it was something worse than you could imagine.

Negan chuckled, an unholy sound that made your skin crawl. “Don’t you worry about her,” he said, a dark glint in his eye.

“I took real good care of her.” The words lingered, taunting, but before you could say anything more, he pulled a medical kit from his bag, the glint of a syringe catching your eye.

Panic shot through you, and you scrambled backward, heart pounding. “Don’t… don’t touch me!"

Negan’s eyes softened, his tone suddenly too gentle, too calm. “Relax, princess,” he murmured, reaching for your arm. “I just need you to play along for a bit.”

But you jerked back, thrashing against his grip. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Your voice cracked, fueled by the horror churning in your chest, the feeling of his hand on your skin like a brand.

The gentle smile on his face vanished, replaced by a cold, dangerous stare. His grip tightened, bruising, and in one swift motion, he struck you across the face, the impact leaving stars in your vision.

“Listen to me, you stupid little bitch,” he hissed, his voice low and deadly. “I’m done asking nicely. You’re going to be a good girl and do as I say, or you’re going to wish you had.”

You barely registered the sting of the needle as he plunged it into your arm. The world began to blur, darkness creeping in from the edges, and you fought it, clawing for consciousness, desperate not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you crumble.

But the drug took hold fast, dragging you down, down, until the world was nothing but darkness.

***

The address Negan gave led Joel to an unassuming neighborhood, quiet and tucked away, where homes lined the street like silent sentries.

Everything here was normal, almost obscenely so, and the ordinariness of it all set his nerves on edge. How could something so terrible be hiding behind these closed doors?

How could neighbors go about their days, clueless to the horror lurking so close? He took a long, deep breath, steeling himself, fingers grazing over the cold metal of his pistol holstered by his side.

He wasn’t a fool; he knew this was a trap. But nothing—nothing—would stop him from stepping into it if it meant the chance to see you alive again.

Before he entered, Joel slipped his phone from his pocket, sending his location to Tommy, leaving the device outside on a rock by the front gate.

He couldn’t afford distractions; whatever came next would be a fight to the end.

As he made his way up the steps, he felt it in his bones, that tether connecting him to you, stretched thin but unbroken. He knew you were here, somewhere behind these walls, waiting, needing him.

His heart ached at the thought of what you’d endured. It wasn’t right—none of this was right. 

Inside, the air was thick with rot and rust, the scent of decay seeping into Joel’s lungs as he moved through the shadowed house.

Every step felt like a descent deeper into hell, each room echoing with the silent horror Negan had constructed within these walls.

The quiet was suffocating, pressing against his senses as he advanced with tense, deliberate steps, the weight of his weapon a cold comfort against his side.

The metallic smell of blood seemed to seep through the walls, thickening the air like rot as Joel moved down the dim corridor, his gaze fixed on the heavy big metal door at the end.

Blood was smeared across its surface, a dark, cruel stain, like the mark of some unholy ritual. He forced himself to breathe through the nausea rising in his throat, steadying himself with a muttered plea.

Please, God, let her be alive.

With a rough, trembling hand, he pushed open the door, entering a space so silent and hollow it felt like stepping into a tomb. The walls were metallic and gray, shimmering faintly under the dim, flickering light.

A hulking freezer stood in the corner, and around it lay instruments of terror—chainsaws, rusted wrenches, and knives coated in dried blood.

This was no ordinary room; it was a pit of nightmares.

He barely took three steps before his gaze froze on the horror ahead—a headless body hung from a butcher’s hook.

With a dress dangling from her shoulders, hair matted against blood-smeared fabric. For a sickening moment, his heart stopped, every nerve screaming as he tried to push down the dread that it was you.

But it wasn’t.

He knew you. The shape of your body, the softness of your shoulders, the line of your arms. Relief coursed through him, but only for a split second.

Desperately, he moved toward the freezer, steeling himself for whatever horror he might find. Inside, jars lined the shelves—heads frozen in twisted, agonized expressions.

Women. Girls to be exact. They don't look older than 20.

His stomach churned violently, but he couldn’t look away. And there, in a fresh jar, he saw Emma’s familiar face, her eyes closed forever in a peaceful, sickening slumber.

His chest tightened as the desperate, icy panic surged within him. He’s taken them all.

As he backed away, his gaze landed on a large object draped in thick canvas, its edges sagging like a dark secret. Swallowing, he approached, slowly pulling back the cover, revealing a small dog cage, lined with soiled fabric and stained in red.

It's you.

He could barely breathe as he took in the sight, disbelief warring with hope. Inside, you lay motionless, your body crumpled and cold, pale in the dim light, bruises shadowing your face and arms.

Every inch of you looked fragile, lifeless. Joel’s heart shattered, the pain so raw it made him stagger.

"No... no," he whispered, stumbling forward. "No.” His voice cracked, shattering the silence.

He dropped to his knees, frantically reaching through the bars, hands trembling as he fumbled with the lock.

It wouldn’t budge, metal biting into his hands as he yanked, pulled, and beat at it in fury until finally, with a final, desperate heave, it gave way.

He pulled your body in his arms, a wave of coldness seeping through his skin as he held you close, brushing a shaking hand against your cheek, as if he could will the warmth back into you.

“Baby…I’m here.” His voice was barely a whisper, as fragile as he’d ever been, a man torn open.

He pressed his ear to your chest, desperate for any sign of life, but your skin was cold, your pulse faint to nonexistent, the quiet threatening to consume him.

"I'm here now… open your eyes, babygirl," he whispered, voice raw and trembling, searching for any flicker, any faint sign of life.

He leaned close, brushing his thumb over your bruised skin, trying to will you back to him. "Doll… please… open your eyes. I'm here."

His own heartbeat thundered in his ears, his body trembling with the weight of the moment, and yet—somewhere, deep in his bones—he felt you.

You couldn’t be gone. Not you. This couldn’t be happening.

Desperation clawed at him as he murmured again, “I’m here… please, please… doll…” The sound of his voice, broken and laced with grief, shattered in the silence.

He clutched you tighter, pressing you to his chest, a hollow ache blooming in the very marrow of him. "Please… don't do this to me, baby…"

"Don't do this to me..."

For the first time in years, Joel prayed.

He’d long forgotten how to ask for mercy, how to whisper words into the void and hope something beyond him might listen.

But here, in this moment, he found himself clinging to the last, fragile remnants of belief, calling out to a God he’d long turned away from, begging—pleading—that you be spared.

His lips moved in a silent prayer, the words barely more than a broken murmur, all his hope wrapped into each fractured plea. Please… don’t take her. Don’t let her go.

His world collapsed into this single, unbearable moment. Everything—the pain, the emptiness, the years he’d spent buried in his own grief—shrank down to this: holding you, willing you to stay.

A part of him whispered that you were gone, that he’d come too late. It sliced through him, the pain cold and merciless, tearing at him from the inside.

But he couldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t. He held you tighter, as if he could pull you back to life with sheer, desperate force.

"Come on, babygirl," he whispered, his voice a soft plea, thick with tears. "You promised me… remember? You promised."

His tears fell onto your skin, mingling with the blood that marred your face, his grief seeping into every inch of you. He bent his head, pressing his lips against your forehead, his tears hot and relentless.

Every memory, every moment with you flashed through his mind, a lifetime of love condensed into seconds. The laughter you’d shared, the softness in your eyes when you’d look at him—all of it now hung in the balance, slipping through his fingers like smoke.

Joel's grip tightened, his arms wrapped around you like he could shield you, even now, from everything dark and vile in this world. "Please, come back to me," he choked out, his voice barely more than a breath, the words pulled from the deepest part of him. 

Come back.

His chest ached, his heart beating against a wall of sorrow so thick it was suffocating. And still, he held you, as though love alone could tether your soul back to him, could fill the silence that had swallowed you whole.

Suddenly, the silence between you shattered as you gasped awake, air flooding into your lungs in a desperate, rattling breath.

Joel’s heart jolted with such force he almost pulled back, but instead, he held you tighter, his relief an overwhelming wave crashing over him.

You thrashed weakly in his arms, vision blurred, disoriented and terrified, your voice breaking in panicked cries. "No! No! Don’t touch me!"

"Hey, hey… it’s me. It’s me," he murmured softly, his hands gentle on your shoulders as he tried to calm you.

His voice was thick, a rough whisper, barely holding back the tears of relief as he drew you closer, feeling the steady warmth of your breath against his chest.

"Joel?" He felt you relax, and slowly, as if afraid you’d disappear if he let go, Joel wrapped his arms tighter around you, silently thanking whatever force was left in this world for bringing you back to him.

"Thank you...Thank you God," he whispered to God, to bring you back.

Your blurred vision cleared, and as your gaze fell on his face, the tears came, spilling over in a torrent of relief, of exhaustion, of love.

You clung to him, like a child, letting out every fear, every longing, until the weight of his presence seemed to ground you, to make you feel safe again.

“I thought… I thought I’d never see you again,” you whispered, your voice trembling, breaking.

He pulled you close, pressing his lips to the side of your head, his words soft and steady. "I got you. You’re safe now… I’m here now." His heart clenched as he felt you collapse against him, trusting him to carry the weight of this moment.

The horror of everything he’d witnessed, everything he’d feared, lingered on the edges of his mind, but with you here in his arms, he could finally breathe.

He then kissed you, you kissed him back.

The warmth of Joel's embrace, that kiss—long, desperate, everything unspoken between you poured into it—all of it felt like salvation, like drowning in relief only to be pulled into air and held there, safe.

Your lips pressed together in a fierce, shared need to feel every ache, every moment of fear, longing, and love—the kiss deepening as if it could carry every bit of pain you’d endured and let it dissolve in his arms.

For a moment, it was just the two of you against the horror, the emptiness that had swallowed you whole.

Here, with him, you are finally feel alive again.

But then, the moment split open. A shadow loomed behind him, and a chill ran down your spine, the dread slithering into your heart before you even turned.

You pulled back, eyes wide, breath catching as you saw Negan standing there, his mouth twisted in a cruel, dark smirk.

In his hands was that familiar bat, glinting under the dim light, raised with lethal intent.

"NO, JOEL—" you managed, your voice breaking as terror surged through you, but it was already too late.

The bat crashed down with a sickening, brutal force, and Joel’s body crumpled beneath the blow.

“Joel!” Your scream tore through the silence, raw and desperate. His form lay motionless, blood slowly trickling from the wound on his head, staining his face as his eyes fell shut.

The sight shattered you.

Negan grabbed you, yanking you away with unyielding strength. You kicked, you clawed, but it was no use. “NO! Don’t do anything to him! Please, don’t hurt him, don’t—” But your pleas fell on deaf ears.

He threw you back into the cold, unforgiving cage, the door slamming shut with a merciless clang.

"NEGAN, NO!" You pounded against the bars, fists slamming as you screamed. He only watched, amused, as though your desperation was an orchestra he enjoyed conducting.

Across the room, Negan dragged Joel’s limp body to a chair, binding his hands and legs with thick, rough ropes. He worked meticulously, each knot tight, his gaze never leaving Joel's battered face.

Blood dripped from the wound on Joel’s head, trailing slowly down his neck, and you felt a crushing helplessness as you watched him, your voice cracking as you screamed.

“Joel! Joel, please… wake up…”

You clawed at the bars until your nails split, your hands bloody, but the steel held fast.

The reality of the moment sank into your bones like ice, each second stretching with dread. "NEGAN, PLEASE!" you begged, your voice breaking, but he only turned toward you with a mocking, cold look.

"That’s the last time he’ll get to touch you," Negan sneered, disgust twisting in his voice as he gestured back at the spot where you’d kissed Joel, where you’d clung to him like he was your last hope. “Disgusting.”

***

Joel’s world flickered back to life in fragments, his mind swimming as he fought the waves of blackness pressing against him.

His head throbbed with a searing pain, and his vision blurred as he forced his eyes open, seeing only flashes of movement and shapes at first.

Then, bit by bit, his sight cleared, and he could see you through the haze, slumped against the bars of a cage, tears streaming down your face as you called his name, desperate and broken.

His heart twisted at the sight, fear tearing through him as he tried to reach for you, only to feel the bite of ropes cutting into his wrists and ankles.

He was bound to the chair, unable to move. Panic settled into his chest, sharp and unforgiving. “Doll…” he managed, his voice hoarse and shaky as he struggled against the restraints, the blood from his wound still warm, trickling down his neck.

Negan’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and cruel, like the edge of a blade scraping against bone. "Well, look who’s finally awake,"he jeered, stepping into Joel’s view, his eyes gleaming with a sick, twisted pleasure.

Every word that left Negan’s lips felt like an assault, each syllable laced with venom.

The sight of him, standing there so casually, was enough to stir something inside Joel that was deeper than fury—it was primal, raw, a burning hatred that ignited within him.

Every muscle in his body screamed to break free, to get to you, to tear Negan apart. He pulled at the ropes, feeling them bite into his skin, but they held fast, as immovable as the horror that had unfolded.

"I'm going to kill you," Joel growled, the words thick with rage and the promise of retribution. The air around him seemed to crackle with violence, his every word a threat, his every breath heavy with hatred.

Negan’s laugh was low and cruel, a sound that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. Without warning, he drove his fist into Joel's stomach, and the sound of it—the sickening thud—echoed in the room, a sharp crack of pain that sent a wave of terror through you.

“No!” you screamed, your heart pounding in your chest, your hands reaching helplessly through the bars, as if you could stop the onslaught with your mere presence.

Negan wiped the blood from his knuckles and smiled. "You think you can save her, huh? Think you can play hero, Miller?" he mocked, his voice dripping with scorn.

"C’mon, you can’t be that stupid. You really think I’d kill her? Please… she’s way too much fun to kill." He sneered, another brutal punch landing on Joel’s face, snapping his head to the side with a sickening crack.

Joel’s eyes were darkened with pain, his mouth now filled with blood, but the fire in him didn’t waver. "I’m gonna fucking kill you," Joel spat, the blood dribbling from his lips, his voice hoarse with fury.

Negan tilted his head, studying Joel with a twisted grin. "Tough guy, huh?" he said, mocking the very idea of Joel’s strength. "Well, let’s see how tough you are when you can’t do a damn thing about it."

Joel’s heart was thundering in his chest, the pulse of his veins matching the brutal rhythm of the punches he endured.

But his spirit didn’t falter; it only burned brighter with every insult, with every blow that landed on his battered body.

Negan circled him, like a predator sizing up its prey, leaning in close, his voice thick with venom as he whispered into Joel’s ear. "What were you thinking, huh? That you could just walk in here and stop me?" He chuckled, shaking his head, his voice dripping with mocking pity.

"We were fine without you. Hell, we were thriving without you." His eyes flicked over to you in the cage, a dark glimmer in them. "She was happy, you know. Didn’t need you to be in her head. But here you are, playing the white knight, trying to save the girl you don’t even fucking deserve."

Negan's voice was like poison, dripping from his lips with a slow, deliberate cruelty, each word laced with venom meant to tear Joel down, to twist the knife deeper.

He knew the weight of Joel's guilt, the shadows of his past, and now, he was going to use it against him.

"You think you deserve her?" Negan’s tone was mocking, cruel, his eyes glinting with a sadistic pleasure. "You? You think you can be her hero, Miller? You’ve known her since she was a little girl, right? Since she was three? And now you’re fucking her?" His voice rose with each word, the venom thickening, as if he could make Joel choke on the very idea.

"Disgusting."

Joel’s stomach twisted, bile rising in his throat. He couldn’t respond—not yet. Not when Negan was playing with fire, fanning the flames of his mind, trying to ignite a spark of doubt in his heart.

Joel remained silent, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt, his gaze burning holes into the floor beneath him.

Negan was trying to gaslight him, make him feel like the monster, make him believe the lies about his relationship with you.

Negan leaned in, his breath hot against Joel's ear, like a shadow whispering sweet poison into his soul. "You really think you’re a hero, huh?" He chuckled darkly.

"You think you’re saving her? You’re just like them, Miller. Just like Ben. Just like that goddamn pedophile you killed. And don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it—taking matters into your own hands, playing God, playing judge, jury, and executioner. You’re the same fucking monster they were. You’re just too stupid to see it."

The words sent a cold shiver through Joel’s veins, like ice water splashing against his skin.

The ghosts of his past clawed at him, the blood-stained memories that had been haunting him for years now bubbling up to the surface. He had killed Ben and Jamie. Killed them to protect her. 

"You killed them because you want her to be all yours. Not because you want to protect her,"

Joel’s jaw clenched, but his mind started to churn with the doubt Negan planted, each word a tiny crack in the wall Joel had built around himself.

He had been justifying everything, hadn’t he? His actions… the things he did for you. It was all for you, wasn’t it? To protect you.

But Negan was playing with fire, and his words were like gasoline—burning through the edges of Joel’s sanity, forcing him to look at the truth through a new, ugly lens.

“God,” Negan’s voice dropped to a low murmur, almost conversational, “I watched her for a long time. Long before you even fucking noticed her.”

He stepped closer, his breath sour, smelling of something rotten, something foul. “The first time I met her father… I was going to repent. I was going to change. Hell, Naomi told me to visit Reverend Gibson, to clean up my act, to find some peace. I was gonna find salvation. All those other girls—bored me. But then… I saw her."

"She was in that white sundress, innocent, pure. I thought—" He let out a dark laugh, shaking his head. “I thought God wanted me to have her, Miller. Maybe she was my redemption. To have a pure, sweet, innocent soul to redeem my sins."

"But then you showed up. Like a fucking rat you have to showed up for God's sake!"

Joel felt his breath catch, like he was drowning in the weight of Negan’s words, each one pressing down on him, pushing him deeper into a pit of guilt and self-loathing.

Negan’s laughter was sickening. It clawed at Joel’s chest, and the air felt thick, choking. “You… you played the fucking hero, huh? You couldn’t leave well enough alone."

Negan walking circled him, "You thought you could save her from her misery just because her father disciplined her. So what, Joel? Girls need to be fucking taught!"

"I agree with her father on that one. She was a brat! and oh she still is!"

The silence was deafening after those words. They hung in the air like smoke, choking the life out of Joel, filling him with a slow, creeping dread.

His mind spun, the thought of you, so innocent, so pure, now tangled in his web. Negan was poisoning everything, every memory of you, twisting it into something ugly, something perverse.

Negan didn’t stop, his words like chains tightening around Joel’s neck, dragging him deeper into the muck. "You led her to you, Joel. Don’t even try to pretend you didn’t."

"You acted like you could protect her. But you can’t even protect yourself from your own past, can you? You’re so goddamn broken, so messed up. And now you’re just taking advantage of her. 

Joel’s heart pounded in his chest, a storm of guilt crashing over him like a tidal wave. Was he—had he really led you here? Was he really just as bad as Negan said?

Negan’s voice dropped to a mocking whisper, dragging the words through Joel's mind like claws on glass. “She was your daughter’s friend, Joel. Ellie’s friend.” He leaned in closer, his breath hot against Joel’s ear.

“Don’t you feel disgusted? You’ve fucked your daughter’s friend. That’s how far you’ve fallen.”

Joel’s head swam, the weight of the words crashing over him, drowning him in a sea of doubt and self-loathing.

His grip tightened on the ropes, his knuckles white, but there was something else now—a spark of something dark, something cold in his chest.

"What do you think Jane would say, huh?" with the mention of his late wife, Joel's body tighten up.

"You think she’d be proud of you, molesting Evelyn’s daughter? Evelyn, Jane’s best friend. You’re disgusting, Joel. All of this? It’s on you."

Negan continued, his voice a low, mocking growl, pushing Joel to the edge. “You’re no better than any of us. Look at you, Miller."

"You took advantage of her. She was just a little girl who needed someone to teach her. And you? You saw an opportunity, didn’t you?”

"You are pathetic," Negan's word hit like a snake's fangs, stung through Joel's heart.

Joel clenched his fists harder, his body trembling with rage, fear, and a deep sense of self-loathing. His throat burned as he fought to keep the tears back, to keep from choking on the agony of his own thoughts. The floodgates were closing, but they were trembling, about to burst.

What has he done?

Joel’s thoughts were a maelstrom now. He couldn’t focus. His mind was torn between the images of you—so sweet, so innocent—and the cruel words that Negan kept throwing at him, one after another.

But then, through the haze of doubt, through the suffocating weight of Negan’s venom, Joel heard your voice.

“No!” You screamed, your voice breaking through the madness, a raw, desperate plea.

“Joel, don’t listen to him!” The words trembled on your lips, an echo of everything you needed to say, everything you wanted Joel to hear.

"Don't listen to him!" you screamed again, your breath ragged, your throat burning from the effort. The sound of Negan’s poison lingered in the air like smoke, heavy and thick, but you couldn’t let it smother the truth.

You needed him to hear you. He needed to hear you.

"Joel, look at me!" you pleaded, your hands gripping the bars of the cage so tightly your fingers turned white.

Every word Negan had said felt like a bullet to your heart, but you couldn’t—you wouldn’t—let Joel fall into the same trap. He was better than this. 

He is better than them.

"You’re not like them, Joel. You never were!" The words spilled from your mouth, raw and desperate, desperate to break through the fog that was clouding his mind.

You needed him to see the truth—the truth that was you and him, the life you shared, the love you both fought for in the darkest corners.

"You love me. In your own way, but you love me, Joel! You saved me! You gave me a life I never thought I deserved." Your voice cracked with the weight of everything you were feeling, the deep well of emotion that surged between you both.

"Joel, I love you."

"I love you, Joel. and you love me, you are my savior, you saved me."

"Look at me! Look at me, Joel! Don't let him under your skin, please,"

Negan, on the other side of this fragile moment, stood grinning, eyes glinting with amusement, as if watching a puppet fight its strings.

He saw Joel waver, saw the flicker of doubt and fear, and he thrived on it. His smile was nothing short of wicked, enjoying the chaos he had stirred.

He had set his trap, and now he watched, savoring the confusion that was slowly chipping away at Joel’s resolve.

You could see Joel, fighting against the chaos in his own mind, the weight of Negan’s twisted words pulling at him like a chain.

His eyes flickered, lost, haunted, caught between his past and the present, between the lies and the truth. But then—then—he looked at you.

For a moment, it was like time stopped. The world held its breath, and all that existed was you and him.

His gaze locked on yours, and in that instant, you saw everything—the raw, unspoken love, the pain, the guilt, the shame, but also the fight.

The fight to break free, the fight to protect you, the fight to keep you safe.

"Joel," you whispered, your voice soft but steady now, as if you were trying to calm the storm that raged inside him.

"You are so much better than this. You’re not like them, Joel. You’re not a monster. You are the best father Ellie and Sarah could ever want, Joel. They will be proud of you, she would have. The best man I have ever wanted, you're my protecter, the love of my life, you are my soul, Joel."

But as you cried out to him, Negan’s smile twisted into a sneer, his patience running thin. "Enough with your fucking mouth!" he growled, turning to you with fury, his hands reaching for the cage, yanking the door open with a violence that made you flinch.

"Shut up already."

Before you could react, Negan was on you, his hand slapping across your face with a sickening force, sending your head whipping to the side.

The sound of the slap echoed in the room, louder than your scream. The sting spread like fire across your cheek, your eyes filling with tears that blurred your vision.

For a moment, the world spun—his presence, his cruelty, all of it was too much to bear.

With that, Joel—Joel is awake.

In that instant, the haze lifted from his eyes. The fury, the protectiveness, everything that made Joel Joel came rushing back.

His muscles strained against the ropes, his eyes flashing with an intensity that would have burned holes in the walls if he could.

He was no longer the broken man Negan had manipulated, no longer the victim of his words.

He was the man who had fought for you, the man who had saved you.

"You son of a bitch!" Joel roared, the raw anger in his voice like a clap of thunder. His body surged forward, every instinct screaming to protect you, to break free from his restraints.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" He screamed, his hands were shaking with rage, but that was the only thing that kept him grounded—the unrelenting need to destroy the man who had dared to lay a finger on you.

The rope binding Joel's wrists strained as he twisted, trying to force the knot loose, his mind ablaze with fury. Every word Negan spoke chipped away at his restraint, his heart hammering with hatred.

The sight of you in Negan's hold—his arm around your neck, the gleaming knife pressed to your throat—made Joel’s blood boil.

But he knew he had to keep his wits; one wrong move, and you’d be lost.

Negan grinned, tightening his grip around your neck. His voice was dripping with mockery as he taunted, "What’s the matter, honey? Scared now?" He leaned closer, his sneer twisted with sadistic pleasure.

"Oh, Joel, why’d you have to ruin everything? If it wasn’t for you, she and I—" he paused, savoring each word, "we’d have lived happily ever after."

Joel’s hands shook as he worked against the restraints, his heart pounding. Negan’s twisted words were knives slicing into him, each one crueler than the last.

"She’s delicious, Joel," Negan sneered, his voice sickly sweet as he ran his tongue along his teeth. "The way she tastes... can’t get enough of her." He licked his lips exaggeratedly, taunting Joel, mocking him with every vile syllable.

"You should’ve known," Negan laughed, pressing the blade closer to your skin, just enough to draw a thin trickle of blood.

"Stop it, Negan, please," you whimpered, tears spilling from your eyes, the despair twisting in your voice.

Negan only tightened his hold, his voice low and cruel. "What’s the matter, honey? You were enjoying it too, right?" The words crushed you, and you turned your face away, unable to look at Joel, a sense of shame sinking into your soul.

Joel's fingers scraped against the ropes with renewed desperation, his fury almost blinding.

Negan’s voice slithered through the silence, every word laced with cruelty. "You know," he continued, "I thought of sharing her around with the others. She made me good money, after all. She knows how to entertain… they paid well. Maybe you’d want a turn, too, Joel. She’s… profitable." He laughed, a dark, rasping sound that reverberated in the room, tightening the coil of hatred in Joel’s chest.

"I’m gonna kill you," Joel growled through gritted teeth, his voice a low, venomous promise.

"Ah, ah," Negan teased, pressing the blade harder against your skin, making you wince. "I’m not finished yet."

Negan’s voice softened, a calculated cruelty in every word as he continued. "But I started thinking... she can’t stay young forever. Thought maybe… it’d be a shame not to pass on those… charming qualities of hers."

"And wouldn’t you know it, Joel, she was carrying a piece of me inside her. That's right, My child!"

"She didn’t agree, of course… but a little force never hurt, right?"

Joel’s heart froze at Negan’s taunts, every word tearing open old wounds he’d buried deep.

Each sentence was a twisted knife, slashing at the walls Joel had built to keep the pain, guilt, and memories at bay. Negan’s voice was venomous, slithering around the broken dreams Joel had long since given up on.

He felt the darkness creeping back—the part of him that, years ago, had once loved fiercely, only to lose everything in one brutal instant.

But pregnant? His mind reeled, the word pounding in his skull like a drum. The image of you, scared and vulnerable, carrying his child—his child—pierced through the numbness in his heart.

He could barely breathe, the thought of you enduring such horror while he was oblivious igniting a fury so primal, so fierce, it nearly drowned him.

Rage tangled with a crushing sense of failure. He wanted to rip Negan apart with his bare hands, make him pay for every ounce of pain he’d inflicted.

Negan’s twisted laughter cut through his thoughts. “Yeah, she wanted a family, Joel,” he sneered, lips curling in a malicious grin.

“She had this fucking unrealistic idea, delusional bitch. You. Her. Playing house. Kids. The whole perfect life fantasy. But she knew, didn’t she?” Negan’s gaze pierced Joel, mocking him with each word.

“You were scared of it, scared of screwing it up like you did the last time. I mean, how could she not know? You’ve got ‘haunted’ written all over you. Lost control, didn't you? When you killed your own family,” Negan laughed, as if savoring each jab.

Inside, Joel’s heart twisted. He remembered the night like yesterday. Now he was left with nothing but ashes and guilt that hollowed him out from the inside.

Every part of him was screaming to shut Negan up, to wipe that smug look off his face. But it was true, wasn’t it? Deep down, he was scared—scared of losing again, scared of failing you the way he’d failed before.

But you, you were different. Despite everything, you stayed.

Despite the darkness he carried, the broken parts he tried to hide, you’d somehow found something worth holding onto.

That fierce loyalty of yours was like a light in the pitch-black cave of his heart, something so pure it almost hurt to look at.

You were stupid, he told himself, but the truth was you were braver than he ever could be.

You had this impossible, relentless hope—the dream of a life together, a family, even though he’d told himself it could never be.

You had loved him, flaws and all, even when he couldn’t love himself. And now, the thought of what Negan had done, the way he’d shattered that hope, drove him to the edge.

"But this stupid bitch killed my baby before they could feel their daddy's voice,"

Negan's words echoed in the dim room, each one twisting deeper into Joel's heart. The pain surged through him like wildfire. You'd done the unimaginable for him, sacrificing more than he could comprehend, and now here you were, your hope and loyalty used against you like weapons.

It was more than he could take—Negan was tearing away the last pieces of himself, bit by bit. Joel's fists clenched tight, knuckles white, straining against the binds holding him back, desperate to shut Negan up, to take back what had been lost.

Negan’s voice grew sharper, each taunt slicing like a blade. "You see, Joel? this bitch is loyal and fucking crazy, she killed her own child for you! just to make a new baby for you!"

"She killed her own kid—for you. All that love, all that loyalty, wasted on you."

"But it’s over, you hear me? You and her? Done. I’ll make sure she forgets you. And when I’m finished with you, there’ll be nothing left."

The world narrowed to this single moment. Negan, too consumed with his taunts to notice, didn’t see you move.

In a swift, silent motion, you grabbed a jagged tool from the ground behind him, the weight of it heavy in your hand. You swung it, heart pounding, and plunged it into Negan's chest with everything you had.

Negan gasped, staggering back, his eyes flashing with fury and shock. In an instant, he retaliated, plunging his knife into your side.

The pain ripped through you, a white-hot flash as you felt the blade sink in, stealing the air from your lungs.

"Joel..."

Time slowed, the world narrowing to the throbbing ache and the look on Joel's face—his eyes wide, pure horror carved into every line, as he screamed for you, voice raw and desperate. 

"NO!"

Your name fell from his lips, a broken prayer, just as you stumbled back, collapsing onto the cold ground. Negan kicked you aside with brutal force, your body sliding across the floor as you fought to keep your vision steady.

You could barely hear Joel’s cries over the rushing in your ears, his desperate shout, the anguish that filled every word, but you felt his presence as if he were right there, holding you.

The sound of wood splintering filled the room as Joel threw his weight against the chair, shattering the binds that held him. In one furious motion, he was on his feet, lunging at Negan with a force that seemed to shake the air.

They collided in a storm of fists and fury, each punch landing like thunder. Blood smeared the floor, echoing the carnage that seethed within Joel’s heart, his fists fueled by a rage that seemed boundless.

Every blow was a release, a reckoning for the agony and fear Negan had unleashed.

Through your blurred vision, you saw them—Joel, relentless and unyielding, his fists raining down on Negan, every punch charged with a love he’d never put into words, a love you could feel, pulsing through every beat of your wounded heart.

The scene before you felt like a twisted nightmare, each moment a struggle to stay present, to push through the pain as blood seeped from your wounds.

You clutched your side, feeling the warmth slip between your fingers as you pressed down, refusing to give in. You had to stay awake. You had to stay with him.

Joel was still fighting, his fists relentless, fueled by desperation and a love that spoke louder than words. But Negan’s laugh rang out, mocking, dark.

“Tough guy, Miller? Is that all you got?” Negan’s face was bruised, bloodied, but he still smirked through it, as if even this pain was just another game to him.

"Bring it on!" Negan said. Joel didn’t let up, his fists a storm of anger, of love, of every unspoken promise he’d made. He was protecting you with everything he had.

But in a flash, Negan’s hand found his bat, and with a brutal swing, he sent Joel flying backward, his head colliding with the floor.

As Joel’s head slammed against the cold ground, a sickening thud reverberated through the room, a sound that echoed in the hollow of your chest.

But Negan loomed over him now, his eyes alight with a sadistic joy. “My turn,” he sneered, swinging the bat down again and again, each blow ringing out, a sickening thud that filled the room.

"NO!"

Joel tried to stand, tried to fight, but he was slowing, his strength waning. Blood pooled around him, and when he looked up at you, his eyes were glazed, his face pale.

Blood ran from his temple in a dark, winding river, and you could see the light beginning to fade in his eyes, the haze of consciousness slipping further with each ragged breath.

His gaze found yours, as he tried to smile, to offer you one last reassurance. You felt a surge of panic rise in you, raw and consuming, as you screamed, “NO! STOP IT!" you saw Negan bash his bat to Joel over and over again.

But Negan laughed, a deep, sinister sound that filled every corner of the room. “Look at you, Miller,” he sneered, swinging the bat down again, the force of it making Joel’s body jerk, each strike ripping pieces from your soul.

“You really thought you could win?”

Your vision blurred as hot tears slipped down your cheeks. The pain in your side was blinding, your own blood pooling beneath you, but nothing compared to the sight of Joel—your Joel—bruised, broken, and bleeding, his life slipping away with each heartbeat.

“Wake up, Joel,” you whispered, a plea laced with desperation, but your voice cracked as you saw him begin to fade.

"WAKE UP!" you screamed, “Please, Joel. Wake up!” You tried to rise, but agony shot through you, your body weakening under the weight of your injuries.

All you could do was lie there, helpless, watching as the man you loved was torn apart before your eyes.

Negan paused, his cruel smile widening as he noticed Joel’s lips moving, a faint whisper escaping.

“What’s that, tough guy? what did you say? oh my God! tough son of a bitch! look! he tried to speak to you!” He laughed looking at you as Negan point to Joel laying in the ground blood all over him, mocking, stepping back just enough to give Joel room to speak.

Joel’s head lifted, his bloodied face turned to you, his voice broken but determined.

“C-close… your eyes, doll…” His words were barely audible, each syllable a struggle, blood trickling from his mouth as he tried to form the words.

He lifted a hand, reaching out to you, trembling, his fingers stretching to bridge the aching space between you.

You shake your head crying, "No...Joel...", The world closed in around you, the weight of your love for him too heavy, too fierce, to bear the thought of letting go.

Tears blurred your vision, and you choked back a sob, heart shattering as you whispered back, “You can’t… I can’t lose you.”

"J-just, c-close your eyes, you're gonna be okay," he said again, blood now coming out from his mouth again.

Your chest heaved, your vision blurred with tears. No, you thought, this can’t be it.

The man who’d become everything to you—the man who’d fought against his own darkness just to hold onto yours—was fading. You couldn’t lose him. You wouldn’t lose him.

Then, as if by divine intervention, your gaze fell to the floor.

It's your gun. Your bible and your gun you hadn't see in a long time.

The gun and the Bible Frank had given you, lying just within reach beneath the table. A fire rekindled within you.

A fury as deep and fierce as your love for Joel, you need to save him. This man would fight to his last breath for you, and you'd do the same for him.

Then you began to crawl, inch by painful inch, toward the weapon. Negan, too caught up in his victory, hadn’t noticed, his laughter grating on your raw nerves.

“Oh, don’t worry, Joel,” Negan sneered, leaning over him with twisted delight. “I’m gonna take real good care of your girl here. Good night.”

But before he could swing, before he could deliver that final, sickening blow, you rose to your knees, aimed the gun, and pulled the trigger.

BANG.

The sound shattered the silence. Negan froze, the shock evident in his wide, stunned eyes as he stumbled, blood blooming across his chest. You fired again.

You didn’t stop. Y

He looked at you, eyes narrowing, but you held your ground, staring into him with a steady, unyielding gaze.

Again and again and again, you pressed the trigger, feeling your breath hitch with each pull, each impact sinking deeper, as if each shot was tearing away the chains he had wrapped around you.

You are screaming as the fury poured from you, pouring all the agony into each pull of the trigger, trying to emptying every last round into him, watching him fall, watching his face twist in horror as his strength faded.

Finally, the gun clicked, empty, but you weren’t finished. Dropping the weapon, you stepped forward, picking up his bat.

The weight felt righteous in your hands. Standing over him, you paused, staring down into his eyes, watching the realization settle—he knew he’d lost.

Negan’s bloodied mouth twisted into a smile, his laughter hoarse and fading. “Look at you,” he rasped, his voice broken, taunting to the very end. “All grown up now.”

Those were his last words.

You raised it high and swung the bat with everything you had, unleashing everything he’d taken from you, every wound he had caused, every hope he’d tried to crush.

The sound of cracking bone echoing in the room, a raw, primal scream tearing from your throat as you brought it down again and again and the bone shattered beneath you.

The world faded, reduced to the rhythmic, furious release of pain, until nothing was left but silence, his broken body beneath you.

You dropped the bat, chest heaving, the weight of it all crashing down on you.

And then you heard it—Joel’s voice, barely a whisper, calling your name, grounding you, reminding you of who you were beyond the fury.

You turned toward him, your body swaying with the weight of pain and exhaustion. Every step you took felt heavier than the last, as if the ground itself wanted to hold you back, to stop you from reaching him.

But you pushed forward, collapsing beside him, your trembling hands finding his blood-streaked face, brushing against his stubbled cheek with a gentleness that defied the violence you’d just endured.

"Joel… hang on," you whispered, but the words barely escaped your lips, thick with tears.

His head lolled against you, his brown eyes finding yours, and the blood pooled in his hair shimmered like some tragic halo.

You could feel the strength slipping from his body, a slow ebbing tide that pulled him further away with every heartbeat.

"Look at me, doll," he murmured, his voice a threadbare whisper, his hand lifting with a tremor to brush your cheek, his thumb sweeping away the tears that blurred your vision.

"You’re… you’re gonna be okay."

You shook your head, gathering him closer, your blood mingling with his as you pressed his head to your lap, cradling him as though you could shelter him from the world that had dealt you both such cruelty.

"No, we’re gonna be okay," you insisted, your voice breaking under the weight of it, a plea wrapped in promise.

"Don’t leave me… please, Joel. I can’t do this without you."

You could see the struggle in his eyes, the quiet resignation in his bruised face as he tried to smile, each line etched into his skin telling stories of a life spent fighting—and now, his final fight slipping through his grasp.

He lifted a hand, pressing against the wound on your side even as his own blood stained your fingers. Every breath was shallow, every word a strain.

He leaned his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin, his eyes barely focusing but still on you, clinging to this moment, to you.

"I’m sorry, babygirl," he whispered, as if the words themselves could bind you together just a little longer.

“No. Don’t… don’t do this to me, Joel,” you begged, pressing your hand harder to his wound too, as if the pressure alone could stop the flow of time, of everything that was slipping away.

You cupped his face, tears falling onto his skin, mingling with the blood that soaked you both. "We’re gonna be okay. We have to be."

But even as you spoke, darkness edged into your vision too, the room narrowing to the beat of your shared breaths, slow and unsteady.

His fingers held yours, entwined in a desperate grip that softened as his strength faded, his pulse a faint echo in your hand. “I love you,” he whispered.

The words raw and cracked, filling the hollow spaces between you, the ache and loss that could never be spoken. “I’ll always be with you.”

The world blurred, the pain and fear blending into a strange calm as you traced your fingers over his face, memorizing every line, every scar.

"I love you so much, Joel," you whispered, voice barely a breath, pressing your lips to his forehead, grounding yourself in the warmth of him, the man who had become your salvation, your strength.

He looked at you, his gaze softening, his hand falling to rest against your cheek one last time. "I found you,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips as the darkness began to claim him.

In the distance, a sound broke the silence—a wail of sirens, voices muffled and faint, calling yours and Joel's name.

You heard your own name echoed, felt the vibration of the world rushing toward you, but it felt so far away, unreachable.

“Joel?” you whispered, weak and fading, your vision blurring as exhaustion pulled you under. Joel didn’t respond, his head resting still against your lap, his breathing shallow, slipping away from you.

Your name rang out again, closer now, a voice that you knew—a voice that felt like home.

"Tommy," you managed, a faint smile softening your lips as your gaze lifted, catching sight of his familiar face before the darkness claimed you.

“He found us.”

And then, like the soft closing of a book, everything faded into black.

HANG ON PEOPLE, WE STILL GOT ONE MORE FINAL CHAPTER!

[kamiversee]

The F*ck List (semi-official) Breakdown.

The following was submitted by my lovely ☃️anon, & I needed to make this it’s own post given how long it is, my replies & clarifications are written in between this breakdown & theory (Ex: A/N > Etc.). 

Here, you’ll find majority of details you may have missed & maybe even more to think about. Enjoy :)

(wc; 5.7k) (content; spoilers ofc)

holy shit Kami. i literally had to take the entire day to process everything. before anything else, i need you to know that you've created an absolute masterpiece. TFL was the first fic i ever cared to keep up with and it has set the bar impossibly high for any other writer out there. please take your time with TFL 2, i'm so excited to read your other work!! also a break sounds like it would be so good for your mind considering how long you've dedicated yourself to this story 😭😭😭 you're seriously impressive. heads up, i didn't proofread this at all bc i finished typing this at 4 am LMFAO so forgive me if it's all scrambled and makes no sense.

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A/N > Thank you for taking the time to write this breakdown, I seriously appreciate it so I wanted to take my time in responding to it & engaging with you :)

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now, on to the yap. i deadass cracked my knuckles before typing all this out.

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A/N > You’re so real for tht ngl

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i reread the entirety of TFL from chapter 1 and my brain is so melted from analyzing that i'll prob find more details tomorrow after i sleep on some theories 😭 BUT HOLY FUCK YOU REALLY WEREN'T KIDDING WHEN YOU SAID YOU WERE HINTING AT GOJO'S OBSESSION SINCE LITERALLY THE FIRST CHAPTER??? the fucking hint being that "Gojo's desire for you is so strong it's almost frightening." GIRLLLLLL 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵

your foreshadowing and referencing is insane. idk if you intended a lot of it, but a lot of it caught my eye.

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A/N> I TOLD YOU GUYS IVE BEEN DOIN IT SINCE THE FIRST CHAPTER !! Okay not exactly but like there was a vibe I had from the first chapter & when I later came up with the twist & went back and saw that everything would connect perfectly ^.^

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chapter 7; the reader and Gojo have lighthearted banter about how the reader "started this" situation.

"I made a mistake." [reader] 

"A good one." 

"Bad one." You correct.

this was regarding a completely different situation but it baffled me how much it connects to the plot itself; the reader making the "mistake" of leaving her door open, and how it lead to months full of trauma and love. probably completely unintentional, but such a good detail.

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A/N > Very intentional btw, it’s supposed to be known that, in a sense, Gojo x reader is forbidden :)

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Choso's still staring at you intently, "What version of you would someone not like?" 

The way he words his question only furthers that little feeling in your chest. It's almost as though he were implying that any and all versions of you would be acceptable in his eyes. - Chapter 16

THE WAY WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT CHOSO WOULD STICK BY US REGARDLESSSSSSSS AAAAAA WE'RE SO BLIND!!! i just hope this stays true to the sequel :')

"No, I wish you didn't have to hate me." He says, shutting his eyes again and sucking in a deep breath, "B-But... it's uh, It's okay. I can live with you hating me." - Chapter 21

AAAA WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN!!!! WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THIS WAS FORESHADOWING OUR FUTURE WITHOUT GOJO 😭😭😭 how he can live with the idea of the reader hating him so long as she's happy with Choso, especially considering his later revelations of how twisted his actions were and how if you stuck with him, he'd view you differently. fuck.

You despise the fact that he loves you. To you, it's almost entitled for him to feel like he has that right. How dare he hold such a strong emotion for you? If he felt this way, why is he forcing you to sleep with people for him? It makes no sense. 

Why would someone claim to love you and put you through so much? 

If he's been in love with you all this time, why start the list in the first place? Why couldn't he have just tried to win your heart from the beginning? Why the list? Why the blackmail? You don't understand him. - Chapter 23

i'm crushed. we didn't understand because we didn't know that Sukuna was involved. that could mean a million other things. i have some far-fetched theories about this but hear me out later!!!

the entirety of chapter 23 had me fucking floored while i was rereading. THE FORESHADOWING WAS EVERYWHERE!!! EVERY FUCKING WHERE

"No sweetheart, Sukuna's an asshole but..." His expression flickers and his smile fades away. He swallows and then clears his throat, "I'm pretty sure he'll satisfy you just fine." 

...

You narrow your eyes at him, "Are you sure?" 

...

 "Fuckin' positive," Gojo suddenly sounds pissed and you grow concerned. The arm around you gets a little tighter while he walks you through some crowds and you keep looking at the man confused. 

There's a vein popping out along his jawline because of how hard he's gritting his teeth.

of course he's aggravated because he knows that Sukuna is the one behind the list in the first place 😭😭😭 I'M SORRY WE DOUBTED YOU SATORU, FUCKKKK

——FIFTEEN MINUTES. That was the exact amount of time it took you to seduce Sukuna. The act was way too easy. Actually, it was suspiciously easy.

BECAUSE HE FUCKING KNEW 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"What all did you plan on doing tonight aside from getting harassed by strangers?" Sukuna suddenly questions against your skin. 

You ignore how close he is and the way his lips make you tense, turning your head to face forward. Chuckling at his last comment, "Same thing as everyone else here." You reply, slightly confused by his question. 

"Bullshit," He utters, "Nobody dresses like this without the intent of gaining my attention," Sukuna claims while his hands slide back down along your body.

this 100% could be just him being cocky and Sukuna, but the recent reveal just makes this feel like an extra demeaning interaction. but of course, it's Sukuna.

chapter 24 is so fucking shady too with everything we know. i know you addressed some of these points already bc i brought them up in previous anon messages, but these things still had me paranoid;

the way Sukuna leaves us and tells the reader to go to his room after a certain amount of time (i know he could have just been tidying up real quick but everything about this man has me on edge)

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A/N> A lot of people are on edge about this but I’ll be honest, there’s nothing crazy that happens in between this time period. Not saying nothing happens but nothing crazy— it’ll be addressed later (in the next fic most likely)

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the way he's been consistently on the phone since the reader entered the room, which is shortly after she messaged Gojo saying that she'll be able to cross Sukuna off of this list by tonight which he wasn't happy with at all.

no seriously, he kept diverting his attention to something in the bathroom and then came out, still on his phone. maybe he's talking to literally anyone else but STILL I'M PARANOID

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A/N> This is to show the fact that Sukuna is a very socially active individual, & hints to the theory (I think you later state) that he has connections.

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this happens in chapter 25 but the way he keeps smiling while the reader kisses him is just so smug of him especially considering the original reason as to why the reader's even interacting with him

then the spicy chapters with Sukuna…

the foreshadowing that the lack of knowledge of Sukuna's reputation will come back to bite her in the ass; first with the knowledge that he is abusive, and then her finding out that he is the curator of the list, knowing the full details of her blackmail and even threatening her again.

WHO DID HE FUCKING FIGHT HELPPPPP MY MIND IS BOGGLING there's no way it's Gojo, right? they're both too unscathed in these next few chapters for there to have been a fight between the two of them.

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A/N > It’s not Gojo. 🙏

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THE FUCKING MOMENT WHERE HE CONTEMPLATED SOMETHING WITH THE PHONE IN HIS HAND??? I FUCKING KNEW IT. I FUCKING CALLED IT WAS SOMETHING SHADY AS HELL.

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A/N> The other Sukuna hint I was talking about is right before this moment btw, you’re welcome ;)

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then he has the audacity to hold his tongue right afterwards?? it's such a big hint towards the fact that he knew about the list from the beginning UGHHHHHHHH.

the way he tried to humor the reader about her "job" even though he was in on the whole thing. UGH. SUKUNA WHEN I GET YOU SUKUNA?? 👊👊👊👊 especially with that "whore" joke right afterwards. i can't stand him. i know that it's implied that he has a twisted view on women from having abusive women in his life (his mom and his ex who he punched) BUT STILL. he's so lucky he's fictional and hot.

the fact that we're able to pick up on the fact that it's a "crazy coincidence" that he continues the whore jokes UGHHHHH HE HAS BEEN PLAYING US FROM THE STAAAAAARTT

Gojo got upset at something from Sukuna's party, he didn't want you to call yourself a whore all of a sudden, Sukuna seems to have believed that was your actual job, and you remember how pissed Gojo seemed as he thought about you sleeping with Sukuna- 

Holy fuck. Are the two connected somehow? Is something going on? What does Gojo owe Sukuna? Does Sukuna know you only slept with him as payment to clear Gojo's debt? Is-

GIRL YOU WERE ALMOST THERE!!!! YOU ALMOST HAD IT!!!

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A/N > I love teasing in my narration by nearly spoiling things 😹

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---

seriously though, these chapters killed me. the official end obliterated my heart. it's so fucking bittersweet i want to scream at the top of a high building. the reader ends up happy and with someone she loves, which is fantastic for her. she deserves that after everything she went through. Choso treats her so, so well.

but Gojo. with the theories i have, i feel horrible. i was so harsh towards him as a die hard Choso girly but these endings changed me. i just hope i'm right.

the fact that his healing journey is harsher than ours makes this ending sting so much. he's healed, and you can see it with his demeanor from the call and the way he interacted with the reader.

we were always made aware of the way he looked at us such deep attachment. the initial gleam shows that he's happy to see us, but that he's not reliant on us for his happiness anymore. he's finding that on his own, and it's a grueling process for him. i wished the reader gave him a hug, but that would probably make me feel even worse.

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A/N> He gave her a lil side hug (with his arm over her shoulder) & was resting his head on hers at the end if that makes you feel any better 😅

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"Through my blackmailing, I fell for you but I also did it because I loved you from the start." i'm gonna throw up bro i'm so sad. i'm proud of his growth. his obsession was so, so strong but he always prioritized the reader's happiness over himself. i know that being self-sacrificial is so core to his personality but it doesn't make it suck any less. i'm devastated. i started blasting mitski in the car on my way to work after reading this.

i thought i was ready for the journal burning. i was so ready for this tie to be severed, for them to finally move on. but i failed to realize that it could ultimately mean a life without each other. it makes sense as to why, but it still sucks.

kami i need that poly ending before i cry my eyes out at 4 am rn. you know i can't handle angst, but bittersweet endings lowkey hurt me even more. i need all my babies to be happy. i desperately need it.

but that alt ending... fuck. in a horrible, sick, and twisted way, i'm relieved. i'm a Choso girly from the bottom of my heart but i can't let this Gojo go omfg. even if he shows up for one more chapter, i think i'll be alright. BUT IT BETTER NOT BE FOR DEATH KAMI!!!! I HAVE A FEW EXCERPTS THAT SUGGEST DEATH FLAGS BUT I AM SIMPLY NOT LOOKING AT THEM. DON'T DO THIS TO ME KAMIIIIIII. i need this boy to be frolicking in a field of flowers or something. my heart can't take this.

┏━━━

A/N> I know I reference death a lot but that’s just to add a sense of how dramatic the characters are 🫶

┗━━━

---

okay, time for my mind-fucky theory. pls bare with me. if it wasn't obvious by my last post, i'm 100% on board with the theory that Sukuna's blackmailing Gojo, which started this whole thing. but the thing that is getting me is how this all connects. i have some assumptions that could make sense, but there are a handful of gaps. here's my thought process;

Sukuna's blackmailing Gojo by using his obsession/love against him.

we are already familiar with the fact that Gojo has liked the reader for years. there was a chapter where Gojo mentioned that it started off as a "crush" but he was so oblivious to his own obsession up until the reader mentioned it to him. it's to the point that he didn't understand what was wrong with the idea of hurting people for the reader. who's to say that Sukuna didn't catch him in some sort of heinous act regarding the reader like stalking?

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A/N > You’re cooking with this one and I almost, almost had to go get the fire extinguisher :D

┗━━━

Gojo didn't understand the difference between love and obsession until later on in the story. this would be consistent with the implication that Gojo just loved her so deeply that his morals were askew as we have yet to find out how far his love goes.

what if Sukuna caught him in the act of doing god knows what, and brought up the fact that if the reader found out about this, that she'd get super freaked out and would do everything she can to get away from him (considering probably barely knew each other, if at all, at this point). but why would Sukuna devise such a plan over a money bribe? well, Sukuna's already revealed to be wealthy, and maybe he was bored. the same line that Gojo kept repeating to the reader whenever she questioned him as to why he did it. what if Gojo asked Sukuna why he's blackmailing him, and he said the exact same thing; "I was bored." we see how much Sukuna mirrors Gojo's speech by calling the reader "sweetheart" often, what if Gojo did the same thing? 

┏━━━

A/N > Gojo & Sukuna do have a few parallels in this story & they will be addressed more in the sequel.

┗━━━

we wondered in chapter 23 how Gojo reaches out to these men to ensure their debt is "paid," but considering how oblivious everyone else on the list is to Gojo owing them anything, it would make sense that he only reports to Sukuna as he is ordered to do so. but two things stumped me on this theory overall.

the reader said that she used to party a lot and get involved with boys before Gojo. if he was stalking her for so long, why did he wait so long to approach her?

what specifically would be the blackmail that Sukuna has on Gojo?

regarding the first point, it's been mentioned that Gojo has been "scared of women" and was shy when it came to approaching the reader. he knew of her for so long, but was able to constantly slip under her radar. considering how much of a pervert he is, it wouldn't have been surprising for him to sneak around and watch in on the reader hooking up with other guys. after all, these guys were probably complete strangers to him and all he cared about was you. remember how Gojo was basically able to tune out his own best friend, Suguru, when the reader was hooking up with him in their living room? it wouldn't be wild to assume that he was able to do the same for your other hookups as he spied on you.

to connect this with second point, what if Sukuna caught Gojo being a peeping tom on the reader during a party hook-up? while being so distracted in the act of spying, Sukuna spots him. the reader wouldn't be alright with the fact that someone who's barely an acquaintance (if that, depending on the time this occurred) to her has been perving around and watching her have sex without her consent. she would do anything to get away from Gojo, and of course that would crush him. Gojo tried to buy Sukuna's silence by any means necessary. so, Sukuna generated a list of people that he and Gojo mutually knew for the reader to fuck. the reasoning for it would be the fact that Gojo has to sit through the process of having the girl he likes fuck a bunch of guys besides him, and the fact that Gojo knew all these men would make it sting more. plus, he has a reputation for hookups. (chapter 8)

┏━━━

A/N > You’re like RIGHT there with it and yet not there at the same time omg 😟

┗━━━

but why would Gojo agree to this deal with Sukuna, and why would he also go with the method of blackmailing the reader? it's basically a guarantee that the reader would be scared away regardless. but again, we could recall that Shoko mentioned that he was too "scared of women" to approach the reader at first. this was his chance to finally approach her. plus, "once that video is gone, there is no excuse he'll have to be around you." (chapter 8)

---

but the more i thought of this reasoning for the two points, the more bizarre it felt. so what if instead of Gojo being a peeping tom, it was Sukuna. we get so many hints that Sukuna has eyes and intel everywhere. we get an indirect implication of this when he called us out for rolling our eyes during our phone call with him. yes, it could be completely by chance, but it's still a great hint that he "sees everything" and "knows everything." we get an even bigger hint towards this in the alt ending when he directly references The F*ck List.

┏━━━

A/N > Others have taken note of how Sukuna knew she rolled her eyes but trust me, that’s just to show that Sukuna knows the reader’s body language more than he’s let on & paid attention to her a lot during the time they were together. 

┗━━━

it wouldn't be too far fetched to assume that he has some shady videos taken of people without his consent, some possibly acquired through other people (like how Gojo was revealed to have sent Sukuna the video of the reader from the first chapter). what if Gojo caught Sukuna with the video, threatened him to delete it, and Sukuna counterthreatened to have it be sent and posted everywhere. it would be highly ironic, but consistent with the way that Gojo and Sukuna practically mirror each other at times. the reasoning for the list choices would still be the same for this theory, too.

---

my citations for these theories ☝️🤓

“You once asked me if I love you because I blackmailed you or if I blackmailed you because I love you and my answer is both,” Gojo confesses as he turns to meet your gaze, “Through my blackmailing, I fell for you but I also did it because I loved you from the start.” - Chapter 56

loved you from the start; his obsession has been consistent from the start (supports Gojo being a peeping tom theory) or he has always had a deep concern for you (supports him wanting to stop Sukuna from spreading blackmail of you instead).

“I’ve sacrificed everything for you, y’know.” 

“How? What’s everything that you’ve sacrificed, hm?” 

“You. I sacrificed the woman I love to make her happy.” Gojo admits, and of all he’s said thus far, that feels like the truest statement. 

“I could’ve been happy with you.” You remind him. 

He laughs, “Yeah well, I’m an idiot.” 

You scoff, “That’s all you have to say?” 

“Yup.” - Chapter 56

is he an idiot for being a peeping pervert instead of just approaching you normally? maybe. how does this make her happy? she ends up finding love through Choso, through the list, through the blackmail.

But deleting the video means ... he has no more leverage over you and can't force you to help him with the hole he's dug for himself. -  Chapter 8

the hole being the blackmail set against him by Sukuna.

Gojo's behind you cursing at himself for being unable to tell you the truth. 

He's so scared that you'll never help him without the blackmail and, well, he has every right to be because you're pretty sure that if it weren't for those videos he has over your head, you wouldn't be doing any of this. - Chapter 9

the videos he's referencing is the original video from chapter 1 and the fake video he lied about with Suguru, but he can't tell the reader the truth because it's too twisted and risky (supports Gojo peeping tom theory).

He silences himself in thought. There are so many ways he could go about answering such a question but the possibilities of how you may react are endless. Plus, you're drunk and if he's going to admit or explain anything to you, it'll be while you're sober. 

"Because..." Gojo's voice gets so quiet that you almost don't catch what he says, "...I don't have any other choice." - Chapter 21

if he didn't go through with his list, Sukuna would have went through with Gojo's blackmail, thus resulting in either you getting as far away from Gojo as soon as possible or Sukuna's video being sent around.

He let something slip abruptly, "W-Wish I c-could tell you everything, sweets..." 

Your brows furrow at that. 

Are you missing something here? - Chapter 22

YES GIRL!!!! SUKUNA'S BEHIND THE WHOLE LIST, HE'S BEHIND THE BLACKMAIL GIRLYPOP

"Anything," Gojo says, meeting your gaze. He's so serious that it's almost dark the way he looks at you, "I'd do anything for you." - Chapter 29

"I meant it when I said I'd do anything for you." 

You follow his motions and then end up right back in his arms, "Right..." 

"I'd sacrifice the very thing I love just to see you happy." Gojo claims proudly. 

You scoff, "Thought' I was the thing you loved?" 

"You are." 

His words bewilder you, "Then that makes no sense." 

"It won't." Gojo shrugs. - Chapter 29

🧍‍♀️

anything. even if it means putting your body, heart, mind, and career on the line. directly supports the theory that Sukuna initially had blackmail on the reader.

"We're the same, y'know..." He suddenly says, his voice breaking again, "We both want someone so terribly bad but our situations prohibit us from getting that person." 

"You could've prevented all this though..." 

Gojo sniffles and you feel a drop of wetness slide down his cheek and slip against your palm. The man was crying? Why? - Chapter 30

this whole time we've been told that Gojo and the reader share more similarities than the reader realizes. what Gojo is to the reader, the reader is to Choso. while Choso now knows of the men that the reader slept with, he doesn't know why. he doesn't know about you being blackmailed. you know that you had to sleep with these men. you don't know why. you didn't know it was because of Gojo being blackmailed.

"For loving me, Satoru. It's not a crime," You say, mocking a comment he made to you earlier, "You're allowed to love me. So, for that, and that only, I forgive you." 

Those words healed so many more wounds in his heart than you realized. It was like that was all he ever needed to hear. If Gojo's mistake was loving you and that's what caused this, then you forgive him. 

If in some twisted way, his feelings started the list, you forgive him.

COME ON NOW.

There’s so much going unspoken but the two of you knew what either was saying, you understood each other more than either of you realized. - Chapter 35

“Well,” Gojo sighs heavily and then draws your hands off his face, leaning down to you a bit, “Sometimes, sacrifices need to be made in exchange for one’s happiness.” 

“Are you telling me that all this was for the greater good?” You quiz as you raise a curious brow. 

“Something like that, yeah,” He shrugs. - Chapter 45

You tell him, “If I had one wish, it’d be that you did that from the beginning.” 

Gojo opens his mouth to say something but then he swallows his words down. He nearly fucked up. 

“All you had to do was talk to me,” Your shoulders raise into a shrug as you move a hand to the doorknob, “Things could’ve been different if you did.” 

“Even if I’ve been obsessed with you since the beginning?” He questions and he’s stepping closer to you again. He can’t possibly wrap his head around that possibility- 

You laugh a bit, “Especially if you were obsessed from the beginning,” You didn’t know it but that statement right there made the man feel as though his world was falling apart, loads of regret tumbling over him as he stares at you with wide eyes, “Satoru I think you forgot but, before all this started, aside from Shoko… I was lonely.” 

Gojo’s throat goes dry and he fails to form a response to that, “I…” 

“If you had just talked to me one time, and more than a hey or how are you,” The way your eyes soften, a slim sheer gloss of tears coating your gaze as you speak to him, “I would’ve fallen for you.” 

He grits his teeth, “Don’t tell me that.” 

“But it’s true.” You say. 

And just like that, Gojo was crumbling all over again. If only you knew how much he regretted everything after hearing you say that. - Chapter 46

if he had just spoke to the reader before all of this, maybe she wouldn't have gone to those parties, hooked up with those people, and caused whatever kind of blackmail Sukuna had on Gojo (or on her).

He wishes he could take it all back, his feelings for you included. If only he could go back and stop himself from ever being curious about you. That’s what started it after all. Because, at the end of the day, Gojo knew who you were before you knew who he was— hell, even before Shoko knew who you were. - Chapter 53

then what is the timeline of his obsession starting? has it been before Gojo? could his blackmail have taken place even before Shoko introduced you two, adding to the weight of the threat that Sukuna held over Gojo's head (regarding the peeping tom theory).

┏━━━

A/N > The timeline on Gojo’s interest, not obsession just yet, on the reader will be addressed in the sequel so this’ll be answered there <3

┗━━━

---

but there were certain parts that stumped me and my theories so i have some weird reasonings around them;

It's selfish of him and seriously fucked up but, he's said it before and he'll say it over and over again-- you're all he has. He made promises to everyone on that list, promises of delivering a woman to them at some point, and of course, he couldn't convince anyone he knew to do such a thing. 

So again, the situation with you just happened to be a coincidence. 

The problem is that Gojo hates that it's you. He hates that you're the one he ended up doing this to. - Chapter 8

Gojo's known to be a silly guy so it could make sense that he actually did promise these guys hookups for reasons unrelated to his blackmail. after all, he does have a reputation for getting people hookups. the coincidence is that Sukuna now has dirt on Gojo and wants to toy with him. by making the reader sleep with them the guys he coincidentally owes hookups to, he fulfills his role/reputation and relieves his debt at the same time. two birds, one stone.

┏━━━

A/N > As we later learn that some of the “debt” Satoru claimed to have isn’t real, we can also infer that his reputation & the promises he’s made to these men were done out of coincidence. Take Toji for example; tell me you can’t see an interaction between him & Gojo where Gojo gets a bad grade and wants to get it up so he taunts his professor with the idea of getting him a hookup & Toji would laugh it off considering Gojo’s reputation ;)

┗━━━

another thing that stumped me is why Gojo got so worked up with the reader referring herself as a whore, and the connection to Sukuna. my delulu reasoning is that once Sukuna threatened Gojo with blackmail by either of the two theories/methods i mentioned, Sukuna casually referred to the reader as a whore. that caused a major fight between the two, possibly even getting physical (which can refer back to the implication that Gojo has hurt people for the reader).

the fight could have increased the tension and severity of the situation, so Sukuna decides to add Choso to the list knowing how easily attached Choso gets. in chapter 5, the reader and Gojo were discussing the list and Choso specifically. Gojo was even noted to be relieved when the reader had mentioned that they'll just have to hope that Choso doesn't get attached, as he obviously holds deep feelings for the reader. Sukuna knows that by going through with the blackmail with Choso involved, Gojo most likely will not end up with the reader if Choso get attached and the reader reciprocates those feelings.

also, the counterargument that Sukuna and Gojo are actually friends/allies in this situation just doesn't sit well with me. it would make for a crazy twist but it just feels too out of character for Gojo. but then again, how would Sukuna specifically know about The F*ck List? but idk, it just feels so wrong to me. maybe i have too much faith in Gojo lmfao. after all, he has consistently shown a great dislike towards the guy since chapter 23. but maybe it's my denial speaking. i really don't want to think of Satoru going through this whole arc only for it to reveal that he truly is a piece of shit. pls don't do this to my pookie my heart cannot handle it </3

┏━━━

A/N > Remember, Gojo is a good actor & you go a long period of time in the book not realizing he’s not as much of a villain as he pretends to be 😉 

┗━━━

there's that moment after the reader fucked Sukuna that still messes with my brain. with my theories, my brain's thinking that he contemplated on collecting even more blackmail on the reader. for what reason? idk, to be an ass? to torment Gojo further and add more to his blackmail? but maybe he decided not to because he already has plenty of blackmail on the reader (if the theory of Sukuna having a video of her from way back then is true) and fucking her knowingly made Gojo pissed considering all the dirt Sukuna has.

so why can't Gojo tell her the truth now? why does he want to wait years in advance? maybe he's hoping that by that time, not only will you forget and not care about the situation overall, but maybe Sukuna will forget all about it as well. the chances of Sukuna holding on to the reader's blackmail for that long is slim and the reader would most likely be in a situation where she is completely separated from Sukuna depending on her job and living situation with Choso. the stakes are lower than if he were to reveal everything to you now, at a moment where your life is still so uncertain. it would go against his wish for you to end up happy.

┏━━━

A/N > Maybe Gojo doesn’t tell her the truth because he can’t, just as he said 🌚 Perhaps he’s not allowed to yet. After all, why would Sukuna even tell the reader he made the list in the end? ^.^ Just some food for thought!

┗━━━

---

regarding the future of TFL... fuck, bro. i have no fucking idea. i'm too caught up in the (presumed) past. i'm mourning fr. i love this fic sooooo fucking much. whenever you decide to pick up on the sequel, i will be there. if you choose to publish anything else in the meantime, i will be there. thanks for such a fun and memorable read, Kami. i'm excited to bookbind this soon 🤍🤍🤍 now, i need to watch blue lock to shove these feelings down.

yap fin (for now)

-☃️

A/N > I love you sosoosooooo much for this. These theories are like reading an entirely new fanfic sometimes except, I know all the answers & what’s going to happen next, which only makes me more excited ^.^ Thank you for taking the time to make this, thank you for reading, thank you for supporting, just, THANK YOU.

This right here is exactly what I write for; people like you :)

To the others reading this breakdown & theory, thank ☃️anon because she’s a damn godsend & ilhsm ^.^ (definitely showing favoritism rn, sorry not sorry, ily all I swear)

Edit; Since you’re watching Blue Lock, I can’t wait to bring my Shidou fanfic here because a lot of the drama in TFL has inspo from that fic, which I wrote first ^.^ & I could totally see you enjoying it because not only is it a childhood friends to lovers than enemies & back to lovers troupe BUT it also includes Itoshi Sae x reader which ofc, adds hella drama :))

P.S. It’s two am as I finally post this and omg sorry it took me a while, I wanted to answer other anons first before unpacking this badboy, again, tysm!!

[questinwitchface]

Q's 31 Days of Halloween Advent Event Masterpost

Hello dears! Back in March, I decided I really wanted to write a Halloween fic this year, and with inspiration from @allcolorsoftherainbow who did an advent challenge for Christmas one year, I decided to do an advent challenge for Halloween this year, as a personal challenge to myself. My friend, my sibling/beta reader, and I all worked together to create a prompt list; I wrote a fic for each prompt, and soon I will be sharing those fics with you!

Each day in October, expect a new fic from me until finally we get to Halloween! Most of the fics are SamBucky, and most - but not all - are oneshots. I've separated them out into themed weeks, just because I thought that would be fun. The themed weeks are: Family, Other Ships, Angst and Smut, and Countdown to Halloween!

All fics will be posted to AO3, and I will edit this post to add the link to each new fic as the challenge goes on. As always, please read the tags, summary, etc. because the ratings and content will vary.

Family Week

Prompt 1: Witch - You Look Bewitching - Rated G; 2,042 words; SamBucky and Sarah Wilson/Original Male Character

Prompt 2: Corn Maze - It's That Obvious - Rated G; 2,284 words; SamBucky

Prompt 3: Best Halloween Candy - The Candy Market - Rated G; 1,671 words; SamBucky

Prompt 4: Creepy Object - The Not Fun Scary - Rated T; 3,383 words; SamBucky

Prompt 5: Making Costumes - Con Crunch - Unrated; Incomplete Multichapter; SamBucky

Prompt 6: A Spell - To Make Love Happen - Rated T, 3,504 words; SamBucky

Prompt 7: Making Decorations - Warmth That Lingers - Rated G; 730 words; SamBucky

Prompt 8: Treats - Revenge Is Sweet, but Maybe You're Sweeter - Rated G; 3,982 words; SamBucky and Sarah Wilson/Original Female Character

Other Ships Week

Prompt 9: Trick-or-Treating - A Daring Knight, a Brave Bard, and a Hapless Prince - Rated T; 1,650 words; Kate/Yelena/Joaquín and SamBucky

Prompt 10: Spiders - Irrational - Rated G; 988 words; Sharon Carter/Joaquín Torres

Prompt 11: Group Costume - Ruby Red - Rated T; Incomplete Multichapter; SamSteve and SamNatasha and SamBucky

Prompt 12: Ghost - To Love Is to Live - Rated T; Incomplete Multichapter; Kate/Yelena/Joaquín

Prompt 13: Haunted House - First Date - Rated T; 1,906 words; Shang-Chi/Joaquín

Prompt 14: Funny Costume - Getting Back at Bucky - Rated T; 1,922 words; Kate/Yelena/Joaquín and minor SamBucky

Angst and Smut Week

Prompt 15: Contacting the Dead - Best Friend's Opinion - Rated T; 4,561 words; SamBucky and ambiguous relationship Sam&/Riley

Prompt 16: Graveyard - In Memoriam - Rated T; 3,130 words; SamBucky

Prompt 17: Cursed Object - Finish the Last Chapter, Start a New Story - Rated T; 1,899 words; SamBucky

Prompt 18: Zombie - Until the End - Rated T; 4,471 words; SamBucky

Prompt 19: Darkness - The Good Part - Rated E; 3,197 words; SamBucky

Prompt 20: Vampire - Stay for Dinner - Rated E; Incomplete Multichapter; SamBucky

Prompt 21: Sexy Costume - May the Sunlight Shine on Me - Rated E; 3,462 words; SamBucky

Countdown to Halloween

Prompt 22: Decorating the House/Yard - Something Special - Rated G; 1,817 words; SamBucky

Prompt 23: Halloween Scavenger Hunt - When They Look Back, Will They Call This Their First Date? - Rated G; 4,379 words; SamBucky

Prompt 24: Fortune Teller - If It's in the Cards... - Rated G; 2,657 words; SamBucky

Prompt 25: Scary Movies - Cuddles and Coziness, Being Together - Rated G; 1,151 words; SamBucky

Prompt 26: Pumpkin Carving - The Avengers' First Annual Pumpkin Carving Contest - Rated G; 1,314 words; SamBucky

Prompt 27: Werewolf - I'd Love You in Any Form - Rated T; 3,544 words; SamBucky

Prompt 28: Fall Festival - Birds and Butterflies - Rated T; 8,554 words; SamBucky

Prompt 29: Pumpkin Patch - Just a Couple of Guys, Going to a Pumpkin Patch - Rated G; 1,658 words; SamBucky

Prompt 30: - Ghost Story - Do You Believe? - Rated T; 2,574 words; SamBucky

Prompt 31: Halloween Party - Say Yes - Rated G; 1,703 words; SamBucky

And, just like that, we're done!! Thank you to everyone who read along, commented, left kudos, and sent me encouragement in any form along the way! It has been a joy to share these fics with all of you, and I'm so happy that we've made it to the end! I will be taking a rest for the first week of November, but expect updates to the multichapter fics in this list throughout November, possibly into December? Idk, we'll get them updated and shared with you dears. Thank you again so much for reading and enjoying this Advent Event of mine! Have a happy and safe and wonderful Halloween!

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 16 all chapters

~AUTHOR'S WARNINGS: N$FW, SEXUAL CONTENT, COPIOUS SWEARING, TOXIC POSESSIVENESS , IF SOMEONE TREATS YOU LIKE THIS IN REAL LIFE RUN RUN RUN BC IT WILL NOT TURN OUT WELL U CANT FIX THEM~

-Aware that John Wick knows this city much better than you, you stick to the crowds. You manage to find your way to the Peggy Guggenheim collection, and you hang out there for hours, looking through the art works, but really only half seeing what is in front of you.

You are devastated.

You’ve had controlling boyfriends before, and it was not fun. They seem exciting at first, until the person you were before is eaten alive by their tantrums and their ridiculous expectations as they try to fit you into a box of their own making.

You can’t believe John turned out that way.

Or maybe you can. Maybe you have a fucking type, and you should have seen this coming.

You stay almost until closing, then grab a bite to eat before daring to wander the streets. You find a little walled in park, a courtyard filled with lush greenery and a tinkling fountain. By some miracle, there is only one other couple on a bench at the far end. You practically have the place to yourself, and you sit down on a wrought iron bench with a sigh and eat your sandwich.

You pull out your sketchbook afterwards to pass the time. Your doodling hand wanders, and perhaps its no surprise when you draw John Wick from memory, his proud lips and haunted eyes. There are tears running down your cheeks as you do so. When it gets too much, even though you’re in public, you hang your head and weep into your hands.

Darkness falls, and you know you should be getting back. The bench has long ceased to be comfortable, and yet it’s like you have grown into it, unable to move.

Even with your head down, when someone sits silently down beside you, you just know it’s John.

You do not look at him, and thankfully he does not try to touch you.

“It’s getting late, y/n. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Yes it is,” he insists, sounding almost tired about it. You hate it that your demeanor softens towards him, just a little.

“You broke my heart, Mr. Wick.”

“I was afraid I might.” He is sitting with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. “Would you let me make it up to you?” 

“I'm not sure that's a good idea.” 

“No?”

“No. I think you have a mean streak.” 

He had tried to warn you, you realize, in his way.

God, are you really such a fool?

“Doesn't everyone?” 

You make a sound between your teeth, and he nods like you have said something profound. 

“I'm not a nice man, y/n. But I would be good to you.”

“Like last night? I didn't like that.”

The corner of his mouth curves in a wicked smirk, and your heart skips a beat in your chest, damn him. Was the contrition all an act?

“Yes you did.”

“Not the last part.”

“Hmm. I tried to warn you.”

In the vaguest terms possible, maybe.

“My fanny.”

He raises an eyebrow to that, and you’re not sure why that little gesture wounds you like a knife to the heart all over again. Perhaps because he is beautiful, and even though you know he’s dangerous for you, you still want him so very much.  

You start to cry again, and try to get up from the bench. You need to get away from him, because you can’t think straight when he’s near.

“Y/n, wait.” He catches your wrist, and when you don’t really fight him, he pulls you down into his lap, and goddammit if this isn’t what you’d wanted all along. You feel small in his arms, cradled against his long torso and sheltered in the bend of his neck, even if in your hindbrain you know you are not actually safe at all. He strokes your hair until you quiet, and he kisses your temple like you are something precious.

How can this man be so sweet, just to turn on you?

“Why did you leave me, like that?”

You just do not understand. You could have had a lovely, fulfilling, mind-blowing if not vanilla night together. He’d laid all the groundwork like a master orchestrator, and you would have let him fuck you senseless. Fuck, you wouldn’t have even minded the tying up part, if he just hadn’t humiliated you.

“Because…” His lips ghost along the line of your jaw, and you fight not to squirm as his large hand slides up your thigh, his fingertips feather light on your skin. “Only good girls get to cum,” he says low in your ear, and you hate how it makes you ache between your legs, to hear him talk to you that way.

Outwardly, you do your best to keep your cool.

“And touching your hair made me a bad girl?”

“No.”

“Disobeying you did.”

“Yes.”

“That’s kinda fucked up.”

“Maybe.” He actually seems a little amused by you, which is not the reaction you were expecting. “I like to be in control. But you make me feel...unbalanced.”

“Me?” You sound incredulous. The thought that you could affect this powerful man in such a way seems absurd.

“Yes, you, kitten.”

The urge to demand he not call you that desiccates on your tongue. 

“So...what? You feel the need to take revenge for that?” 

“Maybe. I thought you knew the game we were playing, when you batted those big eyes up at me. Mr Wick, Sir, aren’t I a good girl?” His fingers dig into your thigh with the memory, and you can feel his growing erection beneath you. “But you’re just an innocent, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“You’re used to boys just eating out of the palm of your hand. But I am a man, with a man’s appetites, and a man’s desires.”

He was a little more than that, you reckoned.

“You want to control me.”

“That’s part of it.”

“Why?”

He smirks. “Maybe I had a rough childhood.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“I want to take care of you.” He kisses your cheek again, and it is gentle and sweet and everything you had wanted from Mr. Wick, before this all went sideways. “I want you to be mine.”

You are not proud of the way those words unleash a fluttering swarm of butterflies in your belly, your breath quickening in your chest. You are proud when you manage to answer, “I don’t need taking care of.”

He just snorts lightly at that, as if it’s not even worth arguing over. “Come back to the hotel room with me. I promise I’ll finish what I started. With interest.” His hand slowly slides up your thigh, just beneath the skirt of your sundress, and you think you might die. You should not want this man, after what he did to you.

The ache between your legs suggests otherwise.

You give yourself some points, when you shake your head.

“No. I’m going back to my hostel.”

The shift in his demeanor gives you whiplash, a thunderhead of a frown pulling his handsome features. “Need to get back to your little friend Javi?” The jealousy in his tone hot as a brand. “Did he try to kiss you again?”

Your heart drops to your feet.

“How did you know he tried to kiss me?” you ask, your voice so small.

That was in Rome, after all.

What should have been obvious before comes crashing in, and you realize what a little fool you’ve been. That feeling that someone’s been watching you, and John’s so convenient and coincidental appearance outside the alley…

“Holy shit. You’ve been following me.”

“I’ve been protecting you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have no idea what the world is really like, sweetheart. It’s a dangerous place.”

You frown at this.

“So…you think I’m stupid?”

“No, of course not.”

“You think I can’t take care of myself then.”

“I think I found you wandering around here like a lost little lamb. There are monsters here who would have gobbled a sweet little treat like you up in one bite.”

The fact that he sees you that way is more alarming than the thought of some unnamed threat in the shadows.

For some reason it makes you think of the men in the van back home—and how that van was found empty and on fire.

“How do you know about the monsters, John?”

“I just know.”

“You said you weren’t a cop. Were you FBI?”

He glares at you, which you take as a no.

“Interpol?”

You are met with silence, and you nod, mostly to yourself.

“You know about the monsters because you are one.” You think about those fierce looking Italian men with their scars and their bespoke suits. His previous words echo in your memory. Sono retirato.

“Were you in the mob?”

“Not…specifically.”

Then you remember he’d said he was from Belarus.

“Bratva, then.”

You should be terrified as you work all this out, trapped in the circle of this man’s arms, but you feel strangely numb about it all.

“My clever girl.” He sounds almost sad about it.

“Not clever enough,” you sigh.

You are not sure who is more surprised, you or him, when you burst to your feet. You actually manage to slip out of his grasp, though you only make it three steps before he captures your wrist again with a grip like an iron manacle. He gives you a dark look, annoyed that you would even try to play this game with him.

You remember what you learned in martial arts class a lifetime ago, pointing your thumb down towards the weak point of his grip and trying to jerk free. It’s worked before, with grabby men.

Not with John Wick, though.

“Stop.” Again, there’s that steely tone. The alpha voice one uses to reprimand a naughty dog. It only makes you angrier, and you struggle.

He pulls you hard against him, and you bite his hand. He doesn’t let you go, just adjusts his grip. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he snarls low in your ear. “But you are so fucking stubborn.”

“Thank you.” You try to headbutt him behind you, but he ducks into the bend of your shoulder. You feel his chest trembling against your back, and only belatedly do you realize he is laughing at you.

“Enjoying this?”

“A little.”

“There’s no fucking way you can get me out of here without someone seeing. Let me go.”

He just sighs into your hair, like you’ve said something extremely naïve.

The arrival of newcomers into the park catches both of your attention. You lift your head, ready to ask for help, when you recognize the besuited tough guys from before.

Well, fuck.

“You've got some balls, showing your face around here, John Wick. Gianna d’Antonio’s son sends his greetings.”

“This isn’t a good time,” he snarls in return.

“Sorry, are you too busy fighting with your little girlfriend?”

He actually releases you then, pushing you to stand behind him. They are blocking the exit, so for now, you comply.

“You know how this will go,” John says, assuming a ready stance, his feet spread. He almost sounds regretful about it. “Do yourselves a favor, and leave.”

“Can’t do it, John,” says the one in the lead.

“For fuck’s sake,” curses John under his breath. The lead Italian makes a move, and John bursts into action. He is like a tornado of carnage upon them, throwing punches and breaking arms, cutting tendons and stabbing throats.

You are absolutely frozen as you watch all this unfold before you.

That is, until one of the thugs throws a knife at John, and you watch it bury in his chest. This is the thing that breaks your spell, and you run towards the fray with a scream, though who the fuck knows what you intend to do.

However, like he wasn’t just stabbed in the heart, John takes another attacker’s gun, pistol whipping him with it before shooting the knife thrower, then the last one standing. It cannot have been more than minute, before all of them are dead at his feet. He leans on his bent knees for a moment, catching his breath.

“John?” You hardly recognize your own voice as you rush to him, certain he’s taken a lethal blow and somehow fought through it with the surge of adrenaline. However, when you peel back his suit jacket you find no blood. He lets you look him over with frantic hands, maybe enjoying the fact that you don’t wish him dead, before pulling the still protruding knife from the breast of his jacket.

When he produces the little leather journal you’d gifted him from his inside pocket, now gravely marred with a puncture through the cover, you understand.

“Holy fuck.”

“You saved my life,” he says with an odd little smile down at you, as though all this is normal and what you just saw is totally ok.

Utterly horrified, you run.

“Y/n, wait!”

You throw yourself into the dark winding streets, taking any turn you can, trying to stay out of sight. Your feet fly beneath you; even in your shitty strappy sandals, it’s the fastest you’ve ever run.

It’s not fast enough.

When strong arms close around you, lifting you from the ground, you try to scream. A big hand clamps over your mouth, and you find yourself pressed hard into a stone wall. “Please, calm down,” he pants in your ear, out of breath from killing four people then running you down.

Your answer of, “Are you fucking kidding me?” is nothing but muffled syllables.  

“Goddammit,” he sighs behind you, rifling in his pocket for something as he pins you with his body. “This is not how I wanted this to go.”

Your pitiful plea of “Let me go,” is cut off by an evil-smelling cloth shoved into your nose.

[sumicchin]

CHIMES OF THE HEART

❃ a windbreaker (satori nii) reader insert.

CHAPTER 1

Rumor has it that a violent ghost has been plaguing the streets of Makochi. (2.6k words)

content warnings: female reader, mentions of prostitution, let's pretend nothing bad happens after roppo ichiza arc, original characters, swearing, it gets wholesome i swear

"Are you ready to go now, dear?" I feel my caretaker's hands touch my shoulders, light and caring. In front of me was my reflection in the mirror, clad in a white kimono and flower pieces adorning my hair. In the 16 years I've lived, this is the first time I saw myself all dressed up.

It's unfortunate that it had to be for an undesirable occasion.

I let out a small hum, face somber. Hayami, my caretaker since being born into this world, snakes her arms around me while I remain quiet. "If you're worried about us, then there's no need to. We have everything under control," I hear her mutter on my ear. She grasps my shoulders, giving me an earnest smile, "I trust that, you look out for your own."

"You deserve to live an earnest and free life, child."

Footsteps soon pollute the room as men clad in black arrive to escort me. I was to wait in a room alone, soon to meet my 'husband'.

"I wish you all the best. Farewell, my dear."

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

My head hung low as I followed them to the banquet hall as was discussed to us a few days ago.

"He'll arrive in a few minutes, stay put."

Unbeknownst to them, we had no plans of actually going through the ceremony.

As soon as the footsteps disappeared, I immediately dashed towards the back exit of the room. Having lived in this shrine for all my life made me aware of the secret passages around, and I wouldn't dare want to know why those were around.

The passage leads to the nearby river where a boat near the docks was placed by Hayami. I rushed towards it, not looking back.

I paddled fast, my mind in a haze, thinking of what could have become of everyone after knowing I escaped.

I can't let their sacrifice go to waste...

Hours passed, my arms tired from paddling nonstop as I couldn't waste a single moment. I just know that they're hot on my trail, I couldn't risk stopping.

Clouds started forming, and soon waves started accumulating. Just my luck.

We didn't anticipate a huge storm today. All I could do is hold my breath as I see a huge wave coming towards my boat.

Images of Hayami's smile before I was escorted flooded my mind.

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

It was a rainy day in the neighborhood, but that didn't stop the boys of Bofurin to patrol the town.

The representative first years, except Sugishita who decided to help Umemiya with his saplings, all brought their umbrellas as they walk around town while talking about the most mundane things.

"Who in the hell would even go out in this weather," Sakura groans. As much as he wanted to do something exciting (street brawl, for example), the weather warrants a day for rest.

"We just need to do one more round and we can call it a day," Nirei says with a huff. "I really wanted to take notes about the stuff you guys said earlier, but I don't want to risk getting my notebook wet."

"That would cause great trouble for you, Nirei," Suo agrees. He himself has been quiet the whole trip, too absorbed in the rain's ambience. The five of them have been walking around town for a good hour now, with nothing out of the sort. The most exciting part of the endeavor was probably Kiryu almost breaking Tsugeura's neck after the tall lad sneezed in front of him, Suo thinks.

"If we aren't gonna do something fun, then let's at least talk about something interesting while we finish up!" Tsugeura exclaims. Kiryu on his phone doesn't bother to look up at said buff male, "At least talk about something other than your protein shakes and virtues."

"I agree with Kiryu," Suo says with a hint of distaste.

Tsugeoka laughs, "I'll save those for another day! Right now, I'm feeling pumped to hear scary stories! Doesn't the rainy weather feel gloomy and stuff? Perfect vibe!"

"But didn't you say you're scared shitless of ghosts? You're just gonna make yourself piss," Sakura scoffs.

Tsugeura moves past his group and blocks their path with a determined face, "You guys gotta hear me out for this one!!! My friends from the other street have been talking about this 'White Lady' recently, and apparently, they spotted it just earlier!" He shudders visibly.

Kiryu looks at him disinterested, "Wasn't there a similar incident at the rooftop? It was only a black cloth all along."

"You should stop scaring yourself, Tsugeura. It's bad for the heart," Suo laughs, however, the boy next to him is visibly bothered by the story.

"So it is real...!" Nirei, with bloodshot eyes, starts shaking uncontrollably.

"What's real? And why are you shaking?!" Sakura exclaims. The blonde looks at his peers, face pale as he recalls the rumors, "It's said that the ghost had long hair and was wearing a white kimono. Get close to it and it'll attack, they say!"

A manly scream erupts out of Tsugeura.

"And since it's a ghost, you can't fight back!!! Four men apparently were injured ever since the sightings started!"

Another scream erupts from Tsugeura.

Suo's eyes lit up upon hearing the four men mention, "Oh, you meant the wanted traffickers in the red light district? The Roppo Ichiza would be glad to hear about that."

"At least the women can be at ease now. This ghost might be of help to us," Kiryu adds.

The other three boys in the group all just stared at each other for a moment, but Sakura's interest was piqued as soon as he heard 'fight'. The ghost must be tough to beat up four grown men!

Suo hums with concern, "How did the men come across the ghost anyway?"

"Apparently, if you hear the clanks of wooden sandals—"

Clank. Clank.

"Exactly like that one, it's a telltale sign that the ghost is nearby."

Nirei's train of thoughts stop as he looks towards where his group is gazing at.

Long hair with a white kimono.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" Nirei and Tsugeura cry as they hug each other.

"Well, if it isn't the star of the show," Suo says, eyes wide at what he's seeing.

Sakura and Kiryu look at the figure with curiosity, seemingly wanting to approach it.

"Can we be sure that this isn't a real person," Kiryu trails, "That looks awfully...real."

Sakura steps forward, "Only one way to find out."

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

Apparently, I survived that storm.

The weather remains gloomy like before, and I assume it's around midnight.

My body feels heavy, my mind is fuzzy, but I had to ignore these and get moving.

I walked until I saw signs of civilization. I was never allowed to go outside of the shrine other than the market, so all I could rely on right now was my intuition and fists.

All the shops were closed, but the street lamps were all lit—they looked beautiful. If I weren't running for my life, I would've basked in this moment for a bit longer.

I needed to get some sustenance and shelter soon, my body has been giving me signs of malfunction.

I walked around a corner and was greeted by four armed men, all huddled together smoking cigarettes.

"That new catch you got is pretty experienced. Exactly the boss' type," I hear one of them say with the rest of the men laughing, saying more vulgar and inappropriate acts.

The mainland has it worse than I thought.

The group of men drop their cigarettes upon looking at the glowing machine in their hands. Apparently, it's past midnight by 10 minutes. Hayami would get angry at me if she knew I stayed up this late.

"Break's over. Let's head back to the bar," a hooded figure says and soon the three other men follow. They walk in my direction and noticed my presence, immediately turning their attention towards me.

"Oh, you there, pretty lady. You tryna catch some guys around this time of the night?"

They laugh.

I just kept walking, ignoring their catcalling. As soon as our paths cross, one of the men grabs my arm and flings me towards them.

His other hand grabs my chin and lifts my face, almost as if inspecting it. A pleased hum erupts from his nicotine reeking face.

"You could make for a fine prostitute."

With all my remaining energy, I send a kick to his abdomen, the man falling to the ground as he clutched his stomach.

"What the—hey! Get this bitch tied up!" All three men charge at me, but they all crumble like a tower of cards.

Four piles of unconscious bodies around me.

"G-ghost!!!"

I heard a woman scream as she runs away, dropping the bag she's carrying from panic.

The people back at the shrine would shun me for stealing, but I'm too starved to think straight. Rummaging through the bag, I come across some leftovers. I nabbed the food and went back to the unconscious bodies, searching for anything useful.

A few coins that can hopefully buy bread or water.

My kimono feels too heavy from all the moisture, but I'd rather endure it than wear clothing that smells like smoke and alcohol.

I ran away as soon as I looted whatever's useful, searching for a place to hide and rest.

Hopefully, tomorrow treats me better.

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

"Don't do it, Sakura!" Nirei frets, finger pointing at the white figure. "Who knows what that ghost will do to you!"

"I'm not buying the ghost crap, if I get a hold of that thing, then it ain't a ghost!" Sakura exclaims as he approached the finger, dropping his umbrella in the progress.

"Ah Sakura, didn't you just recover from a cold?" Suo says as he picks up the boy's forgotten umbrella.

"I won't be able to fight with one hand."

'That's cringe,' Kiryu grimaces.

Tsugeura, trembling profusely, can only bid his captain all the luck in the world. "I can't watch this!!!"

"So, you're the ghost everyone's been talking about."

He doesn't get a response.

"Those four men aren't part of our territory, but I can't let you running around our town free," Sakura clenches his fist and runs towards the figure. He strikes a fast punch, only for the figure to step aside and appear behind him. He goes for a kick, but the ghost avoided him once more. This goes on for a while, Sakura barraging the ghost with powerful punches and swift kicks, only for naught.

"Why aren't you fighting back?!"

"Maybe it's because it is a ghost!" Suo replies playfully.

Tsugeura, pale as paper, could only look through his fingers, "Tell me when it's all over!"

"Suo, Kiryu, don't you guys think you could help out Sakura? This is getting nowhere!" Nirei says.

"I want to but, I don't really want to get my clothes wet," Kiryu nonchalantly says, "Plus it's fun to watch from here."

"Same here." Suo chirps.

"Why are you guys so chill about this?! There's some paranormal activity going around and you guys are just treating this like it's some circus act—"

A loud thunk was heard, the boys turned their heads over to Sakura who was now on the floor. While the boys were engaging in playful banter, Sakura was suddenly hit by a powerful kick to the back of his head. The force of it almost resembles Togame's punch, he thinks.

The rest of the boys come to his aid, with Nirei acting as his clutch as he catches his breath.

Sakura heaves, "That's no ghost, it's human just like us."

"Fuck, I thought I could handle it myself, but I'll be needing your guy's help. The only objective right now is to capture that thing so it doesn't cause trouble for the town." He's not exactly sure if he's supposed to make a villain out of the mysterious person, but it's better safe than sorry. Before his face got plummeted to the ground, he swore to himself that he was able to clutch the figure's right ankle, cold to the touch.

Everyone nods in agreement, understanding the assignment. By this point, their umbrellas all dance on the floor as they prepare to catch their target.

"I'll overcome my fear for the townspeople's sake!" Tsugeura roars, taking his stance.

He charges towards the figure and tries to go in for a grab, but he ends up catching air.

Suo and Kiryu now taking the whole situation seriously follow suit and try to get near the figure with haste. Kiryu tries to corner the figure, but it starts to use the wall as leverage and makes a run to escape. Suo notices this and was able to predict the person's landing, only for his shoulder to be stepped on.

Their target soon makes its escape, not even allowing the boys to regain their composure.

Nirei, who was watching by the sidelines, was able to discern which direction the figure went and relayed this information to his Bofurin peers. They decided to assimilate it in their group chat as well to make the task easier.

Highschoolers hunting for a 'ghost' in the middle of a downpour made headlines that day.

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

The students of Bofurin all get word of the hunt. Needless to say, everyone was joining for the hell of it.

"So you're telling me, this ghost is not actually a ghost?" Umemiya says, slightly disappointed. His hope of meeting the occult, shattered. Everyone sweats a drop at their leader's statement, except Sugishita who reflected the same feeling of disappointment. Students who were available that day all gathered at Furin's rooftop, to which the crops and seedlings all glistened at having been watered by mother nature. All grade captains and the four kings were present, indicating the severity of the situation.

Or that they didn't really have anything going on for the day.

"Anything else we need to know about the target?" Hiragi asks the first year boys, to which Nirei perks up.

"U-uhm, I was watching the whole time so I think I got a good look at them. Other than the long hair and tattered white kimono, height-wise I think they're about my size," he nervously says, flipping pages of his notebook. "Sakura also said that the skin was cold as ice due to being exposed to the rain for days. I don't think the target could've gone far after our encounter with it since they might've been suffering from hypothermia by now!"

'So he was jotting down details the entire time...how diligent,' Suo thought to himself, acting like a proud father.

Everyone takes in the information and is about to head downstairs until Kiryuu's voice reaches everyone, halting their steps. "I don't want to get ahead of myself, but are we sure the target isn't a girl or something? I mean, I know a girl when I see one. Don't you agree, Suo?"

Leonardo DiCaprio nodded his head with a smile, "I thought so as well, but I was afraid Sakura would hold back once he heard about it."

Cueu steam coming out of said boy's ears.

"If that's the case, then let's proceed with caution everyone! Don't act like savages if you come across the girl," Tsubaki suggests with Umeyama agreeing. "Make sure to keep communication open once she's on sight so that everyone can close down the area."

Needless to say, Tsubaki was worried ever since Kiryuu and Suo suggested that they were to capture a girl.

"Are y'all done with the chitchat? If we don't move our asses then we can kiss goodbye to the whole thing," Kaji interrupts, already looking impatient and raring to go.

"Welp, you heard the man. Bofurin, roll out!"

winbre brainrot real ;-;

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

once again, we've reached a new year, and while I can't guarantee a new me who might actually release new fanfiction with some semblance of regularity, I can promise that I will keep writing and posting as often as my life allows. I want to thank all of you who read, like, respond and especially reblog my work, and I hope that you enjoy anything on this list you may of missed, and keep enjoying the new work I keep on posting. happy new year everyone!

full content warnings and content can be found on each individual post, and each fic is labelled for length. follow me on bartonstark to find all my fic in one place, or check out my ao3. smut/sexual content: *** personal favourites: ///

BRUCE BANNER:

interlude (ficlet) *** you steal a heated moment with bruce in the lab.

BUCKY BARNES:

keep quiet (ficlet) *** /// against his better judgement, bucky lets you seduce him in a public place.

warm embrace (ficlet) bucky takes pity on you in the cold.

CLINT BARTON:

appreciation (oneshot) *** /// you borrow clint's shirt and he shows you just how much he approves.

make your move (oneshot) /// you discover clint's real feelings for you and dare him to do something about it.

stay still (ficlet) clint comes to your aid after you're injured on the battlefield.

whatever you need (ficlet) *** /// after a mission gone wrong, clint gives you everything you need.

MARC SPECTOR:

bubble bath (ficlet) sometimes, self care includes bubbles.

starving (ficlet) *** marc has alternate plans for dinner.

NATASHA ROMANOFF:

smile (ficlet) you distract natasha in the middle of a meeting.

PETER QUILL:

chilly (ficlet) /// you're not quite used to just how cold it is in space.

rom-com moment (ficlet) *** even a storm can't convince quill to keep his hands -or his feelings- to himself.

STEVEN GRANT:

raindrops keep falling (ficlet) a busted umbrella leads to a meet cute.

TONY STARK:

downpour (ficlet) *** tony has his way with you against a window as you watch the rain.

favor (ficlet) you convince tony to finally get some rest.

ink (ficlet) you surprise tony when he finally comes home to you.

missed you (ficlet) tony wakes you up in the middle of the night.

most people (oneshot) /// tony can't believe you're the kind of person who doesn't like hugs.

pride (ficlet) *** tony takes a lot of pride in what he does to you.

voice of reason (ficlet) in a reversal of roles, tony's the one to convince you to go to bed.

waking up with you (ficlet) *** tony has only one thing on his mind in the mornings.

THREESOMES/POLYAMORY:

ladies first (clint barton x natasha romanoff x reader) *** /// natasha has strict rules when it comes to play.

plaything (tony stark x marc spector x reader) *** /// you invite an old boyfriend to help teach your new one a lesson.

SERIES:

just to be nearby (peter quill x reader) *** /// months after the battle of earth, peter is still wallowing in his loss of gamora. he begins to find comfort in you.

just to be nearby

closer still

to ashes chapters (full series, this year's chapters in bold) *** /// after the snap, you volunteer to track down clint and bring him home. instead, you join him on his mission for blood and find yourself growing closer to him... prologue - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - 31 - more coming soon

tag list: @lovely-dreamer19 @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @castieltrash1 @drakelover78 @queenoftheunderdark @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lol-you-thought @sebbystanlover-vk @trekkingaroundasgard @mikariell95 @csigeoblue @abrunettefangirlnerd @babyblues915 @aar-journey @moistpotatobear @bellamyblakemorley @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @sentimentalalien @agustdowney @akumune @xxboesefrauxx @ccbsrmsf1 @patheticallysentimental @loki-is-loved @blue-chup @darsynia @katsies @youralphawolf72 @maenji @rhymesmenagerie @gwianasky @melaclintbartoncorner @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @marvelwomen-simp @bombardia @bellarkeselection @hollymac79 @dragon-chica

[m3-kk]

TCF NOVEL SPOILERS- My TCF notes

Hmmm it’s been a minute since I posted any of my TCF notes about the chapters.. so here ya go! THIS US PART 2 SHAWTYS!!

Ch. 1- YESSS CHAPTER 1!! Not the Kings Palace going kaboom 😶 Cale needs to rest!!! Slacker chan!!!

Ch. 5- AHHHHHHHHHH LEE SOO HYUKKKKKKKK LETSS GOOOOO! BLACK HAWKK OOO

Ch. 6- His name is now Sui Khan 😮

Ch. 7- 🍪 Cookiess! So we have to travel different dimensions now? Cale needs a break 😭😭

Ch. 8- World with the white mages = Xiaolen Planet

Ch.9- YAY DIVINE ITEM MIRROR LAPTOP THINGY! We are definitely going to like the other worlds people evil smirk 😏

Ch. 10- HAH CALE HUNG UP ON DUKE FREDO LOL! Sooo Cale is a god. 😀

Ch. 12- Dead mana is purer AND Cale’s power is more efficient here? Interesting..

Ch. 13- Hey we have a spare world tree!

Ch. 15- Mary is registering as a candidate to be a necromancer empress GO MARY!

Ch. 16- AW HER FAKE NAME IS “Heni Wishrop” HENI STANDS FOR HENITUSE!

Everyone thinks our Mary is powerful hehe!

Ch. 21- Working with Zero & the 4th Prince for the Harmony test :D

Ch. 22- OOooo Black Rain 🌧️

Ch. 24- Now we actually need to kill those hunters. How dare they lay a finger on our family. Let’s flip them over immediately.

Ch. 25- Yay! Hong & On <3 Let’s go to the infected area! 2nd Princess?

Ch. 26- the 2nd imperial princess has been converted to Caleism hah m! Tree-bush monster ye fire, destruction, protection!

Ch. 27- Are you human? HAHAH CALEE

Ch. 28- That Marquis guy is smart. Cale really is acting like a purifier so funny!

Ch. 31- Blood Message! How scary!

Ch. 34- Attacking the bad guys >:]

Ch. 36- BURNNNNNNN 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Ch. 37- 50% power to get 2,500% as a result! SO EFFICIENTTTT WEEEEEE

Ch. 38- THE HUNTER WHO HUNTS HUNTERS! GO CALE SO POWERFUL HA!

Ch. 39- Cale.. not everyone is a super powerful ultimate other worldly being like you! I feel bad for Goldie Gramps 😭

Ch. 40- In Prison with the fam 😜

Ch. 41- We are going to loot!! Goldie Gramps is angry and that dragon is timid but crazy. I love our family! CHAOS LOVE

Ch. 42- DESTROY THE ESTATE MWAHAH

Ch. 43- So sad that we couldn’t loot 😭🥲

Ch. 44- Ooo Opening the safe 💰

Ch. 54- ooo revealing us to the empire?

Ch. 58- Choking? Reminds me of Adin

Ch. 63- HAH I KNEW IT THE FAKE WT IS STAYING YOOO

Ch. 64- INFOOO! Not the Patriarch blowing up that’s crazy! We could’ve gotten so much more info! But oh well! Five Colors ooo!

Ch. 65- HAHAH THE GOD OF DEATH IN THE GROUP CHAT HAHAH I LOVE HIMM HEHHEHE (I love this chapter)

Ch. 66- AWWW Chatting with fire of Purification in puppy form!

Ch. 67- This is so cute I’m glad we get a lil’ rest just chatting with the nice puppy ❤️ I love!!!

Ch. 69- Almost the end of this arc!

Ch. 71- HOME WITH THE MONEYYYYY

Ch. 73- Ron, Beacrox! I missed uuuu!

Ch. 75- Aw the Henituse Fam! Billos!

Ch. 76- You get a mine, you get a mine. EVERYONE GETSA MINE!!

Ch. 78- YOU HAVE BEEN PROMOTED YOU ARE NOW ONE OF MY ELITE EMPLOYEES!

Ch. 79- @CP we have a mommy on our side? Mummy’s boy emperor as well???

Ch. 81- CENTRAL PLAINS?! The sworn brother goodbye was cute.

Ch. 83- We meet CP’s clone?? Cutie??

Ch. 85- The disrespect! They can’t pronounce our Cale Henituse’s name!

Ch. 86- NEW NAMES LETSGOOO

Ch. 90- YOO we got a golden plaque!

Ch. 91- Cale ignores Toonka but not Roan!

Ch. 93- We found the living jiangshi!

Ch. 94- enlightenment is crazy****

Ch. 97- Talking with the Sword Sainttt

Ch. 100- Purification! Chapter 100!

Ch. 101- One word, blood. SHITTTTT NOO

Ch. 102- AWKWARD! Yay Choi Jung SOO

Ch. 106- LET HIM EATTTT

Ch. 108- So many ally’s yay !!!!

Ch. 112- We. Are. Going. To. EATT! (a elixir)

Ch. 113- 70% shield 53% water

Ch. 116- The Alliance leader is being bitchy SHOW EM’ WHOSE BOSS! (Roan misses Alberu)

Ch. 118- Don’t hurt our Cale! Please!

Ch. 119- Aw I love when Choi Han & Beacrox talk together about family

Ch. 121- Ah the god ole trash bastard days

Ch. 123- Green Forest Bastards try and mess with us?! Angry Cale! >:(

Ch. 124- OO Cale is the BOSS MAN

Ch. 127- 68% then 72% of fire!!

Ch. 128- Pfft Caleism has a poem now lol.

Ch. 129- HUHH Big complicated lore??

Ch. 131- WOAHH The Heavenly Demon is a smart cookie fr fr wow intelligent!

Ch. 135- The Left Guard is so cute awe

Ch. 136- Oh no the Heavenly Demon ain’t doing so good :[

Ch. 137- Helping out the HD again. Spy?

Ch. 139- Aw Choi Family spars. I love it

Ch. 141- HD is being healed yay

Ch. 142- I was so concerned about Cale the whole time! Bloody Battle

Ch. 146- (I hope everyone at home is ok)

Ch. 151- TALKING WITH ALBERU YAYAYAY

Ch. 152- Pinnacle Demon is poison crazy

Ch. 153- We going to destroy things now?

Ch. 154- YAY DESTRUCTION DESTROY

Ch. 155- FINALLY FLIP THINGS OVER KYA

Ch. 157- OO WATER AP FOUND SOMETHIN

Ch. 158- OMG DRAGON LORE?? YAHOO

Ch. 159- “Raon’s lackey” I got the chills!

Ch. 160- OOOooo I’m hooked! Dragons<3

Ch. 162- Oh DAMN! We got a mf jackpot! Water is 300 percent stronger than the OG. No blood shed! Dragons are great!

Ch. 163- HAHA LOOTING ANCIENT STUFF

Ch. 165- Scale+Crown+Crown=Red Crown

Ch. 169- Shit is going down! TSUNAMI!

Ch. 171- How dare she think to threaten us, she shall die by Choi Hans sword.

Ch. 176- Old man Baek describes Cale’s world and “reads” him

Ch. 183- I love that we can run wild!! 😜

Ch. 185- THE PRIESTESS the youngest daughter of Orsena!

Ch. 186- The Dominantung Aura

Ch. 187- Our little Han got stronger (I’m so fucking proud of him 🥲)

Ch. 188- We killed her.. Last words?

Ch. 189- The Formation Collapsed!

Ch. 190- Raon’s MC moment. (Cute bond)

Ch. 191- Using water AP to Max! Or not?

Ch. 192- the Punto Banhui and Tears💧

Ch. 195- You got games on your phone?

Ch. 196- Everyone wants Cale to be a god

Ch. 199- WE LEFT!!! NOW WE ARE HOMEE

Ch. 200- Awww so cute at Alberu’s casa

Ch. 201- That actually so funny 🤣

Ch. 202- Zoom Call with Ahn Roh Man talking about gamess. Similarities?

Ch. 206- Aw it been a bit since we chilled

Ch. 209- Speech ruined! (So every time Cale has to do a speech it’s interrupted)

[finnsbubblegum]

I’m Sorry (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: car accident, miscarriages (let me know if i missed any)

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah. 

Words count: 1.7k

A/N: I’m trying to make this as a rom-com, hope you like my new series! This is part 15 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm so grateful for all of you! Thank you for your comments, reblogs, and likes ❤️ There are still more chapters for this series so stay tuned! Love you!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Epilogue

“Should we go to my parents house this weekend and tell them?” You were sitting on the exam bed while waiting for the doctor to print your sonogram picture.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” Joel nodded.

“Sorry it took so long. Here, I printed five for you. And don’t forget to get the vitamins at the pharmacy before you leave.” The doctor passed you the sonogram pictures and a prescription.

“Thank you, doc.” You and Joel thanked her.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you on our next appointment.” She smiled.

“Do you want to wait here and sit while I get this?” Joel raised the prescription. 

“I’ll come with you.” You linked your arms to Joel’s.

“Hi, Joel.” A familiar woman and man stopped in front of the two of you.

Joel sighed. He didn’t expect to meet his ex-wife and her boyfriend again. At the obgyn in all of the places? 

“Hi.” You greeted them with a forced smile.

“Congratulations to both of you.” She pointed at the sonogram picture in Joel’s hand.

“Thank you.” You looked at her while you rubbed Joel’s arms.

“Congratulations to you too.” You pointed your eyes to her protruding belly.

Joel’s ex-wife was pregnant with her current boyfriend. She was bigger than you so it was obvious.

“I hope you’ll be a good mom this time.” Joel sarcastically said to his ex-wife. 

Even though it had been a few years, he was still hurt by her and he still hated her. He could never forgive her for what she had done. She failed her daughter but why did God give her a second chance to be a mother? He wondered. Life was not fair.

“It’s okay.” She grabbed her boyfriend's wrist as he stepped forward to Joel almost starting a fight.

“I will, Joel. I’m sorry. I hope to see Sarah sometime.” She brought up Sarah.

Joel groaned and rolled his eyes. You rubbed his arms with your thumb to calm him.

“Sure, we can set a time.” You smiled at her.

Joel turned his head to you and widened his eyes. He wanted to make his ex wife suffer by not allowing her to meet her daughter. 

“Thank you, (y/n). I hope you and your baby are healthy.” She put her hands on your upper arm.

“You too.” You smiled and parted ways.

In the car

“You okay, there?” You asked Joel as he was quiet since your meeting with his ex-wife.

He stayed quiet, not answering you.

“Joel, baby?” You called him.

He only hummed and looked straight while driving.

“I get it. You’re mad at me.” You nodded, holding the seatbelt on your chest.

“Yes, I’m mad at you. What the fuck was that?!” He raised his voice.

You trembled. Hands gripping your seatbelt tighter.

“You’ll let her see Sarah?!” He hit the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry. I just thought-I’m pregnant now and I know how a mother is connected to her baby. She grew Sarah inside her for 9 months, Joel.” You started sobbing.

“Don’t you dare cry now.” Joel growled.

“Joel, please. I’m sorry.” You cried.

“Fine, I’ll call her and tell her she can’t see Sarah anymore. If that’s what you want.” You took out your phone.

“Don’t.” Joel started driving faster.

“What do I do? What do you want me to do?” You sobbed.

Joel cleared his throat and didn’t answer you.

“Joel! Slow down! You’re gonna get us killed!” You screamed.

He kept on pressing the gas pedal and speeding up.

“Joel! Please! Stop the car! Stop it!” You cried as you screamed.

Joel hit the brake suddenly as he saw the red light. You panted as the car stopped so suddenly. Then the light turned green and Joel pressed on the gas pedal again.

"Baby, I'm sor-" Joel didn't finish his sentence. 

*car crash*

A speeding car suddenly crashed from the left side. Joel’s reflex tried his best to turn the car avoiding the crash but the car turned in circles. You screamed as the car turned. Your hand instinctively wrapped around your belly protecting your baby inside your belly. You hit your head as the car crashed. You and Joel blacked out for a moment. 

“Baby..” Joel opened his eyes and groaned at the pain. 

Joel turned his head to you but you were unconscious. He panicked and hurriedly took off his seatbelt. He was shaking.

“Baby, can you hear me?” His bloody hands cupped your cheeks.

“Baby, open your eyes. Open your eyes for me, baby, please.” Joel tapped your cheeks with his palms and sobbed.

Your ears were ringing and your vision was blurry. You blinked your eyes a few times as you heard his voice. All you could see was him, blood and pieces of glass everywhere.

“Where are you hurt?” Joel looked up and down to your body.

“J-joel..” You called his name.

“Baby, you hurt? Tell me.” He cupped your cheeks.

“Wait here. I’ll get you out.” Joel immediately got out of the car and ran to your side. 

He was in pain but he ignored it. Your safety was his priority. You were more important than him. 

“Come here, put your arms around me. I got you, baby. I got you.” Joel put his arms around you to help you out ignoring his pain.

“J-joel. I’m in pain.” You shakily put your hand on your abdomen and squeezed it.

“I know, I know. I need to get you out first. Come on.” Joel tried to lift you.

“Joel, the baby.. I can’t lose the baby.” You cried as you felt warm liquid flowing to your thigh.

“Shit.” Joel looked down to your skirt and saw blood.

“Joel..” You cried looking through his eyes.

“Eyes on me, baby. Eyes on me. Don’t look down.” He tried not to panic so you didn’t panic.

“Joel, everything hurts..” You cried on his shoulder as he dragged you out of the car. 

“Somebody call the ambulance!” Joel shouted.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” Joel cradled your head as he laid you on the ground.

Thankfully, a stranger called an ambulance and they came right away. The paramedic laid you on the wheeled stretcher and Joel’s heart broke. He blamed himself. He didn’t know what he should do. He followed you inside the ambulance and held your hand throughout the way to the hospital. You squeezed his hand in pain and he brought your hand to his lips.

“Please help my wife. She’s pregnant.” Joel begged the nurse as she brought you inside.

“Sir, you need to get treated too.” The nurse invited him to the examination bed to get treated.

Joel’s head was bleeding. His bones probably dislocated or fractured but he didn’t care. His focus was only you. He felt extremely guilty and his chest hurt. 

“Sir, we’re sending your wife to the operating room. It’s best if you get treated while you wait.” The nurse repeated again.

“Save her, please.” Joel sobbed. 

“We’ll try our best.” The nurse smiled.

Then Joel followed the nurse and got treated. He called Tommy to watch Sarah for a while but he told him not to tell Sarah what happened. Then he waited for a few hours and shook his legs in anxiety. Joel stood up right away when you were brought out from the operating room.

“How is she?” Joel asked the doctor with his casted arm.

“Sir, I’m so sorry for your loss. We couldn’t save your baby. And your wife needs a lot of rest. We need you to stay strong for her.” The doctor felt bad for telling Joel such bad news.

Joel cried as he looked at your weak body laying on the hospital bed. The nurses pushed your bed to your room while Joel followed beside you. Joel stayed beside you all the time when you were still sleeping because of the drugs.  He slept resting his head on the bed beside you, holding your hand, never letting you go. In his mind, he kept thinking how he would tell you when you regain your consciousness.

“Joel?” You whispered as you opened your eyes a little.

Joel raised his head right away when he heard you call his name.

“Hey, I’m here, baby. I’m here.” Joel stroked your head.

“Where am I?” You tried to remember what happened and your head hurts.

“You’re in the hospital. We got into a car accident.” He explained the main points.

“My head hurts.” You put your hand on your head then your stomach.

“Joel- The baby. Please, tell me it’s okay.” You started panting as you panicked.

“Baby-I-” Joel couldn’t find his words.

“Joel-please-” You sobbed.

“I-I’m sorry.” He cried.

“Joel! No! Please!” You cried gripping his shirt.

“I’m sorry, baby. It was my fault. I’m sorry.” He cried and buried your head to his chest hugging you tight.

You cried so loud. Your tears wet his shirt. You didn’t expect this would happen. 

“Bring him back! Bring him back, please!” You screamed and tried to get out of the bed looking for the doctors.

You used him for your unborn child because you could feel it would be a boy. But now he’s gone. Your baby boy was gone. Your heart was shredded into pieces at the fact you couldn’t protect your baby.

“Baby, you need to lay down. You need rest.” Joel held you from standing up.

“Don’t touch me!” You threw his hand away from you.

“It’s all your fault! None of this would happen if you didn’t speed up!” You yelled at him. Tears falling down your cheeks.

“I hate you! I hate you! And I hate myself!” You took off the IV needle that was inserted on the back of your hand and stood up.

The nurses came inside as you tried to leave the room. They held you and put you back to your bed. Your heart rate was rising and they decided to give you sedatives to calm you down. Joel cried as he saw you like that. He was guilt-ridden and helpless. He never wanted to hurt you and now you hate him. 

To be continued…

A/N: I wasn’t planning about this but when I was writing for this chapter my hands kept typing it this way. I don’t know if you like it but I hope you like it!! ❤️

Taglist:

@lovelyygirl8 @skysmiller @moonlightdivine @crocodiile @angie2274 @pulchritudinousrogers @peqchsoup @msecho19 @happinessinthebeing @nyotamalfoy @nakedmoondiaries @dzaga890 @pa1g3-t0mm0 @prettysbliss @wanniiieeee @one-sweet-gubler @x-ap0llo-x @feministfanboi @ordinarylokix @afterglowsb-tch13 @padgraysonssram8re @tomorrowseverything @hummusxx @iranispunk @mrsyixingunicorn10 @likeanimagepassingby2 @mediocrewallflow3r @pedr0swh0r3 @mxtokko @dorck26 @cascactus28 @cheyxfu @stupidthoughtsinwriting @undermoonlightwalk @bigmoodyjoody @humanbug @sarahhxx03 @krisviciousx @quixscentsposts @dgct2 @dgraysonss @heybabyshae @fluffyspaceprincess @toottmblr @avengersfan25 @xixxala @dianaffddz @onzayhe @violetwitchmcu @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @kelh27

[justagirlwholikesadam]

The Wolf Among Men

WARNING: RATED M, smut, death, mention of almost SA, act of violence, Themes of Religion, alcoholism

A/N: This will be my first GOT fanfic, I will being going along with the plot on the show with my own twist. I haven’t read the books so if I get something wrong or the plots are all over the place. Let it be. My story my rules. Please note comments are welcome. Enjoy! -L

Summary: Jon was told that his eldest sister, Y/n arrived to Castle Black. He was surprised when Y/n arrived with The Hound, Sandor Clegane.

Word Count: 11.9K

━ ◦ ❖ ◦━

Chapter Two

Months Later After The Fall 

A cup of ale was given to Sandor by his father when he killed his first man. Sandor was only 12 and he gagged at the taste of it but his father told him to drink up since he was a man now. Sandor did what any 12 year old would do. He listened to his father and drank it all. He was 15 when he noticed the drinking was the only thing that helped him sleep. It helped him ease the nightmares he had of his older brother. As Gregor grew, the maids in their house disappeared along with a sister, he doesn't recall. 

He has a rough time remembering anything before Gregor did what he did. It was like he had lost his memory after that but it came back in nightmares. Nightmares of his older brother shoving his face in the fire, horrible screams and sounds of a girl choking echoing in the hallways of their home. The news of his father’s death was said to be a “hunting accident”. When he was told of his father’s death it scared him because Gregor stood behind the maesters with a stone cold stare. No one mentioned the blood stain on Gregor’s trousers, no one even dared to say what they were thinking. 

The drinking helped Sandor sleep and not care. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him anymore, not like when he was a kid. He didn’t mind the names or the snickering behind his back but he did have his moments. Sandor was just 16 when he was in a tavern minding his business and drinking by himself. No one dared to bother him but a drunken knight decided to bully him. He ignored the warning and walked towards Sandor shouting about his face.  The knight was so drunk out of his mind that he didn't notice Sandor had a knife in his hand. The people in the tavern screamed while others stared in horror as Sandor rammed his knife at the knight's face repeatedly. 

Sandor was on him, pinning him to the ground with his weight. He noticed the blood and chunks of brain had stained the white cloak the knight wore.  Sandor scoffed at the sight of it. White cloak, a knight’s garment. The white signifies purity, virtue, and innocence. Knights are supposed to be good but all the knights around him were pieces of shit who used and abused their powers on the weak. 

Being a knight was a dream for him when he was small. That dream broke and disappeared when Gregor was knighted by Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. Sandor didn't understand it. 

“How can he be a knight?’ He asked himself. His brother is a monster, evil with legs and a face. 

The awful truth that Sandor learned was knights protecting the good and the unfortunate were all fake. In the real world it’s the strongest who survives, the strong prey on the weak to live. You need to kill to survive. 

Sandor stopped when the knight's head was completely smashed. He wiped his knife on the knight’s cloak and rose up from the ground. He ignored the people around and sat back down to finish his cup of ale. 

He learned that day he was pretty good at killing and he liked it. 

When he became Joffrey’s guard, he started drinking more. Since he was paid well, he drank wine. Wine made him feel good and yearn for a woman's touch. He would spend his nights at a whore house where some rejects from little finger’s establishment stayed. He drank until he couldn’t feel the tip of his fingers anymore. He drank until he couldn’t see the woman’s face and paid for her time. He kept it simple and quick. Bend them over then have them bring him a pitcher of wine when he finished. 

He would wake up the next day with a slight headache and cotton mouth but he slept the entire night without any nightmares. His eyes would open and stare up at the multicolor fabrics hanging from the ceiling of the establishment.  

Sandor never told you but when he first talked to you when you arrived at King's Landing that night he drank and he dreamt for the first time in a long time. He dreamt of you and your sweet smile that you had given him when you saw him. The dream became a nightmare when Gregor appeared behind you. Gregor was going to kill you and Sandor without a thought grabbed his sword. 

He shot up in a sitting position when he sliced Gregor’s throat wide open in his dream. It was the first time in his life he had dreamt or even thought of killing Gregor. Sandor was now bigger and stronger. He had more experience in fighting now. He knew if he tried his hardest he might be able to win against his brother.  The only thing that was lingering on his mind was, when will it be his chance to get his revenge on Gregor. 

Sandor found out that he might be able to defeat his brother when he protected Loras Tyrell from him during the Hand's tournament. A rush of energy came at him when he saw Loras on the ground, his brother was about to strike the younger man. 

He did hold his brother off and King Robert commanded them to stop. Sandor was the only one who obeyed and kneel, showing his loyalty to the King. Loras thanked him graciously as Sandor stood up. He raised Sandor’s arm up declaring him as the winner.  He saw you quickly rise from your seat beside your father and clapped for him. You cheered his name loudly, not caring who was looking at you. The crowd followed and cheered for him as well, making him tense up since these were the same people who ridiculed and despised him are now cheering for him. 

He made a decision as he walked up the steps to take his place behind Joffrey. He was going to kill his brother and get revenge. 

Sandor started to gain consciousness and he thought he was back in the whorehouse. He will wake up like always and see the multicolor fabrics hanging above him. Sandor opened his eyes and stared up and saw a wooden ceiling. He let out a hiss when he tried to get up, he couldn't do it. He looked at his surroundings for a moment. He realized he was inside of a wooden shack. Everything came rushing back in his mind at once. He fell off a cliff and you were crying over him as you tried to pick him up. 

Y/n. He thought to himself. He let out a grunted as he tried to get up again but it was no use. 

“You’re up.” Sandor's eyes widened at the sound of a man’s voice. He tried to sit up on the bed to see who it was but fell back down on the makeshift bed. An older man with a beard walked inside the shack with a small bowl and a cup. 

“Y/n?!” Sandor called out in a raspy voice. 

He looked down at himself to see his clothes were gone. He wore a brown tunic shirt. He was bare from the waist down under thick blankets. 

“Wow! Relax.” The man said putting the bowl and cup on the small table near the makeshift bed when he saw Sandor trying to get up again. 

“Where is Y/n?!” Sandor shouted as the men sat down on the bed with his hands in front of him showing Sandor he meant no harm. 

“She’s eating supper now. She’s done with work.” The men helped Sandor sit up as he spoke.  

“What?” Sandor said not understanding as he leaned against the wall.

“You should eat too.” The men said, grabbing the bowl. 

“She will be happy that you’re awake. Poor thing was starving and tired. Told her I’ll feed you today.” Sandor watched as the man took the spoon from the table, he was about to feed it to him like he was a baby. 

“I can fucking do it.” Sandor said, grabbing the bowl from the man’s hand.  The man laughed while Sandor gave him a glare. 

“She said you were a mean one.” Sandor quietly moaned as he drank the warm soup straight from the bowl. He was starving. 

“Who are you? What’s this place?” Sandor asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“I’m Ray. Some people call me brother Ray. We are here building a sept in the hills. We found Y/n in the mountains. Poor thing was crying and asked us for help. She offered to work in exchange.” Ray said with a smile as he looked around the small shack. Sandor frowned. 

“What is she doing? What kind of work?” Sandor asked. Millions of thoughts were running inside of his head. Sandor didn’t believe Ray. He knew men like him. Sandor has always been good at reading people. Ray seemed to catch on what Sandor was implying and  frowned. 

Ray shook his head. “No! We really are building a sept. At first she would cook and clean. Clean clothes of the people here but some people thought it wasn’t fair because food and shelter was being given to you.” 

“Y/n is something. She yelled at men twice her age and said she will work with them, cutting trees down just to shut their mouths.” 

Ray rose up then made his way to the table filled with bowls and candles. Sandor watched as Ray started to mix some powder and made a paste. Sandor continued to finish his soup as Ray kept talking. 

“Never seen a girl her size cut down wood before. I think she has been through a lot, she hasn’t said much about herself. Every time she’s chopping wood she said she imagines it’s the face of the people who hurt her.” 

Sandor was lost for words. You haven’t left him. You kept your word and stood by him. You worked for him. Sandor felt his heart was about to burst as Ray kept talking about you. 

“You gave us all a fright.” Ray said as he lifted the blanket up to Sandor’s knee.  Sandor saw his leg was straightened out. He can see the nasty large scar across his knee. His knee bone was pushed back in and he was stitched up. The stitches looked red and angry but Sandor was happy about that. It means the wound is fresh and healing. Sandor held his breath for a moment when he tried to move his toes. Ray let out a chuckle when he moved them.

“Scared the fuck out of Y/n when you started to move them in your sleep.” 

“You were in and out of death so many times. Never seen a woman pray so much like Y/n did by your bedside.” Ray said as he carefully spread some of the paste on Sandor’s knee. Sandor tried to keep a moan of relief when he felt the cool paste on his stitches. 

Ray wrapped some cloth around his knee and covered him back up with the blanket. 

“I’m glad you’re up.” Sandor watched as Ray grabbed the empty bowl from his hands and started to walk out of the shack. He looked over his shoulder at Sandor and told him he will tell you that he's up. 

Sandor was left alone and he stared at his hands on his lap trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’s alive thanks to you. He looked up at the sound of someone running. He froze when he saw you by the door. You stared at him with wide eyes and a big smile. You looked different. You wore dark trousers with a beige tunic instead of your usual dress. You looked slimmer, and you looked like you had been out in the sun for too long.

“Sandor.” You cried as you walked inside and sat on the bed close to him. Sandor didn’t say anything when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and hugged him. 

“I’m so happy you’re up.” You said looking at him, cupping his face with your hands. Sandor tried not to cry, he really did but you were there in front of him, alive and he was alive too. 

“It’s okay, my love.” You whispered as you kissed his cheeks. You caressed his burned cheek while he looked at you. 

“Thank you.” He softly said.

 “Thank you.” He repeated as tears ran down his cheeks.

He kissed you gently and laid his forehead against yours. You pulled away when you heard him let out a sharp breath, he bore a grimace look on his face. 

“Are you in pain? Ray said he put the paste on your leg. I’ll give you some milk of the poppy.” You said leaning forward to the table, grabbing a small vessel and the cup Ray had bought.  

“Where did you get that?” Sandor asked as he watched you put a few drops in his cup. Medicine is not cheap.

“Ray took me to a town a few miles away. I have been chopping wood and selling them there. I got enough money for medicine.” He was about to take the cup from your hands when he froze at the sight of them. 

He grabbed one of them when he noticed the bandage wrapped around your palm. Your hands were different as well. Not the hands of a lady anymore. Your hands were rough and you had dirt underneath your fingernails. 

“It’s just a cut. It’s healing.” You told Sandor as you gave him the cup and removed your hand from his grasp. 

“Let me see.” You shook your head. 

“Drink first. Please.” Sandor didn’t say anything. 

“Please. I’m alright.” You said pushing the cup towards his mouth. Sandor didn’t want to anger you so he did what you told him. He was ashamed that you had to work to take care of him.  

You told him about Ray and the group as you helped him lay back down. You told him how Stranger was outside as well. You didn’t have the heart to sell the horse and his sword, you thought if Sandor died then Stranger and the weapon would be a reminder of him. However you did have to sell his armor for a maester to come all the way up the hills to check up on him.  

Sandor was drifting into sleep from milk of the poppy when he noticed he took almost the entire makeshift bed. He wanted to ask where you slept. He was going to ask when you started to hum softly to him. He felt your hands on his head, you brushed his hair with your fingers as you continued to hum. 

Sandor got his answer in the middle of the night when he woke himself up from a cough. He opened his eyes slowly, still feeling the effects of milk of the poppy. He saw a small candle on the table near him burning. He looked around as best he could. He stopped when he saw you on the ground sleeping. He wanted to get up to get you in bed with him but he winced at the pain in his knee. You were in the corner with a pillow under your head and a blanket over you. Sandor can see you were holding one of his knives in your hand while you slept. 

He tried to call your name out, trying to fight back the sleep but he lost and shut his eyes. Days passed and Sandor got better and stronger. He was in a foul mood every time you left for work and came back. You spoke to him telling him you did this for him because you love him. 

“I know you would have done the same for me if I was the one in that bed.” You told him. Sandor nodded as he agreed with you. 

Sandor tried to have you sleep in the makeshift bed with him. He had shouted until you laid with him every night. As soon as you heard him snoring, you carefully got off. You didn’t want to tell Sandor the real reason why you chose to sleep on the ground. Some nights you would sit on the ground by him and stare at the entrance of the shack. 

Days turned into weeks and Sandor was finally able to walk with the help of Ray and a teenager boy named James who wasn’t afraid of him.

Sandor already had a reputation among the group and they weren’t to kin at the idea of the tall man with half of a burned face around them. Sandor walked a few steps before sitting back down. Ray told him it was normal and to have him walk more to get the strength of his legs back up again. 

Sandor was up and walking in no time. The sept you were helping build was done. Sandor and you went with Ray along with his group to another place to do the same. Since the group changed location it wasn’t too far from the shack. Each morning, Sandor and you rode Stranger to work then back again in the afternoon to the shack to rest. 

You ignore the talk and the stares people did whenever they saw Sandor and you. Sandor impressed many when he was able to carry a log by himself, a log that took at least five people to carry. Sandor began to chop wood and he made you get a job that didn’t require so much manual labor. You didn't want to at first, since you got used to the work but Sandor pleaded with you. You started to help the other woman with the cooking and the cleaning. 

You ignored the snickering you heard behind your back from the women who talked about you being with Sandor. Some were afraid of him, while others were repulsed by his face and some were jealous of you for having a man like Sandor. Tall and strong is what you heard from them and for the first time it made you feel jealous. 

Sandor and you have been traveling alone for so long that there weren't other people to make you feel that way. You knew Sandor wasn't like that, talking to other women or even looking at them. Even on the road and going inside of a tavern he never once looked at women. 

 The woman in the group wore dresses while you wore trousers and a shirt that Ray had given you. Your hair that was once brushed and braided is now tangled and greasy from being out in the sun and working. Insecurity and jealousy seeped into your body. 

You were unaware that Sandor heard how the men spoke about you. Just like you, Sandor knew the rules not to fight and not to steal from each other. Sandor didn’t want to be the reason to be kicked out of this place. It was good, no one knew who both of you were, both of you had somewhere to stay and had food. 

Sandor was surprised when Ray came around the corner and spoke out when he heard one of the men start to speak about you. “Perhaps if you pray hard enough to the gods, they will bless you with a lass like her. Hardworking and pretty.” 

Ray looked over to Sandor who walked away to get another log. 

“Y/n didn’t tell me what happened to you.” Sandor heard Ray behind him following him deeper into the woods to his chopping area. 

“It was a fight.” Sandor replied. 

“Wow, I don’t want to see what the other guy looks like.” 

Sandor shook his head. “It was a woman. A tall, big fucking woman.” 

Ray chuckled. “She wanted to take Y/n away from me.” 

“Well, I’m glad she didn’t.” Ray walked closer to Sandor. “Me too.” Sandor said as he sat on a log stretching his leg. 

“Many people say you came back from the dead. Some said it was fairies that healed you.” Sandor scoffs at the idea of little fairies over him. 

“I know Y/n helped but it was up to you to survive. What made you survive? I didn’t have the heart to tell Y/n that you were done for. No man can come out of the state you were in.” Ray said. 

Sandor thought about it for a minute, why was he still alive? Perhaps it was for you, to keep you safe. Before you, he was alive to have his revenge on his brother. “Hate or maybe I’m just a hard fucker to kill.” 

Ray shook his head not believing him. “No, there's a reason. Gods aren’t done with you yet.” 

“Heard that one before.” Sandor said as he remembered Beric telling him that the gods wanted him alive before leaving with you after his win. Sandor didn’t believe it at all. 

“Why would the gods want me alive? I have done hateful shit before. You don’t know the things I have done.” 

“If you are what you say then why is she with you?” Ray said, looking behind Sandor. 

Sandor followed his gaze to see you walking towards them along with two bowls in your hands. “I believe you're alive for a reason.” Ray said, patting Sandor on the shoulder then left. 

Ray greeted you as you walked past him. 

“Hey.” You told Sandor as you passed him a bowl with rice and meat. 

“Thanks.” Sandor said while you took a small leather wineskin off your shoulder. 

“Your favorite, water.” You told him before giving it to him. Sandor snorted a chuckle, he was telling you this morning how he would chop every fucking tree in the forest for some ale. 

You used your fingers to grab the meat and rice as Sandor took a drink of water. It’s been a while since he had ale or wine. He was alright without it just as long he was with you, he thought to himself. He closed the wineskin and looked down at the bowl. He was still thinking about those men talking about you. It wasn’t the first time he heard men speaking about you. In King’s Landing, he saw how men looked at you. He heard what the knights and lords said about you. The Lords were all over your father asking for your hand but your father kept telling them how you were already promised to another. He never found out who it was though and he didn't want to think of it. Another man with you, another man touching you and looking at you.  He was able to give one look at the knights and scare them off but he didn’t know what to do about the men here. 

He didn’t want to cause a problem. He didn’t want both of you to get kicked out. Ray seemed nice enough. Ray never looked at you like you were a piece of meat. 

Sandor trusted Ray with you, he knew why Ray helped you heal him. It was after a tale Ray told to the group one afternoon. Ray had told the group that he had gotten into a fight when he was still in his misfit ways with a couple of smugglers. At the end, the smugglers sought out where he lived and killed his daughter because he wasn't there.

“ I can not bring back my daughter. I regret that fight so much but I know I can make a difference now. I can bring back a bit of good into this world.”  

His story was cut short when three men rode into their camp looking for trouble. Sandor had gently pushed you behind him when the men started to stare at the woman of the group. He knew who they were, they were from the brotherhood and followed the Red God. They didn't recognize him, Sandor had longer hair that touched his shoulders and was much lighter in color. The beard that he kept short was now fuller.  You hid behind Sandor, your forehead was pressed against his back as you listened to the men asking Ray if they had any gold or weapons. You gripped the back of his shirt when the leader of the men told Ray to be careful because the night is dark and full of terror. 

Sandor didn't sleep that night, he stayed up with his sword in his hand in case they came. Ray told him that he wouldn't fight them because violence is a disease. He kept looking at the entrance of the shack. Sandor knew Ray was right about violence being a disease but it was the only way to make sure you were safe. 

Ray helped you because you remind him of his daughter. Ray couldn't do anything to help his daughter but he was going to make sure to help you and he did. Sandor was alive, breathing and walking again.  

Sandor swore to himself that he was going to do the same as you did for him. You helped him, you saved him from death. He wasn't going to let anything or anyone hurt you. You showed how much he means to you. You showed him everyday how much you loved him. 

“I love you.” He mumbled without a thought. His eyes widened at his confession, he quickly turned away from you. 

“What?” You asked when you heard Sandor mumble something. You were too busy eating to hear what he said. 

Sandor shook his head and kept eating, avoiding your gaze.

“I want you to tell me if anyone is bothering you. Alright?” Sandor finally spoke after a few minutes. You looked over at him with a strange look. Did he find out?

“What are you talking about?” You asked softly, trying not to panic. 

“I heard some of the men talking about you.” Sandor said, looking over you as you wiped one of your hands on your pants. You let out a small sigh of relief. 

“I don’t know if I’ll need you to save me. I’m pretty good with an ax.” You said, giving him a smile. He didn't need to know, you thought to yourself. It was over, he’s safe. He is alive, that's what matters. 

Sandor grinned at you. You were good that he had to admit, he had seen you chopping wood. At one point he had to leave when he got a hard on from just watching you. He got aroused by the look on your flushed face, the sweat dripping down your forehead and neck. He liked it, it reminded him whenever you rode him. Your body would be covered in sweat as you moved your hips, your breasts bouncing. Your sweaty face reminded him of the time he pounded you from behind. Your pretty face looked at him over your shoulder mewling with each thrust. 

“The women talk about you too. You know?” You said as you brought a piece of meat to your mouth. Sandor shook his head at you as he ate. 

“He’s the tallest man I've ever seen in my life. He’s so strong.” You said mimicking in a high pitch voice making him chuckle.  

“Pretty soon I'll have to swing my ax to keep them away from you.” Sandor chuckled looking at you. He stopped when he noticed you looked a bit annoyed. This was new for Sandor, he had never seen this side of you before. You’re jealous and he didn't like seeing you like this. He didn't know what to do to make you stop feeling this. Sandor wasn't good with emotions, he knew that. You were the first person to ever make him feel something that wasn't hate. He was nervous about what to say, last time the words came out of his mouth without a thought. Those words back in the barn, he regretted because of the face you made when he mentioned your family.

In his mind he wanted to say, stop being stupid. I don't want those broads. 

“There's only you, Y/n. I only want you.” The words that came out of his mouth washed away the insecurity and jealousy you felt. You looked at Sandor and saw he was being sincere, you looked away licking your lips. 

“Y/n. Look at me.” Sandor spoke, you looked over at him. He had gotten closer to you. 

“I only want you. You’re all I want.” 

You bite your bottom lip as Sandor kisses your cheek. It’s been so long since you felt him, since you felt his touch. You wanted him so bad but you knew he had to heal. You didn’t want to hurt his knee but your fingers weren't the same as his, your cunt was used to his rough and large fingers. Your body craved his touch and cock. You yearned for him. It’s been months without him. 

You felt Sandor kiss the corner of your lips. You dropped your bowl to the ground to kiss him on the lips. 

Sandor dropped his bowl as well to grab you, he wanted to be closer to you. He wanted to feel you. “Are you sure?” He heard you asked him as you kissed his neck. 

“Aye.” He said standing up from the log, pulling you up to follow him further into the forest. He didn't want anyone seeing you.

“You?” He asked. You nodded, “Yes please” He grins at your response. 

He found a large enough tree to keep both of you hidden behind.  He pushed you gently against the tree as he leaned down to kiss you on the lips. His hands grabbed your ass, squeezing it over your trousers. You let out a moan as he nipped your neck.

“Sandor.” You cry his name. His large fingers made their way to the rope tied around your trousers to keep them from falling down. He untied it and pulled your trousers off along with your boots. 

He let out a moan when he came close to your mound, he kissed it. Enjoying the scent of your musk. He was about to eat you out when you begged for his cock. 

Sandor felt himself grow hard at your words. You told him how much you missed his cock, and you missed how he fucked you. He quickly pulls his own trousers down, jerking himself a bit. 

Sandor manhandled you and picked you up roughly. Your back was against the tree, legs wrapped around his waist. Your fingers digging into his shoulder as he slipped himself inside of you. He groans as he feels your cunt on him. You were so tight, it’s been so long since he felt you. He was shocked how wet you were. You were wet just by kissing him. 

He held you tight as he thrust inside of you. He held your ass in one hand while his hands held onto the tree. 

“F-F-uc-k.” You cried into his neck as he fucked you. You heard Sandor grunting as he thrust into you hard and rough. 

“You’re mine.” Sandor moaned into your ear. “You hear me?”

“Mine.” Sandor said as he felt you clench around his cock by his words. He hated hearing the other men talk about you. Didn’t they know that you were with him, that he’s yours and you’re his. 

“You like that? Knowing you’re mine. You’re fucking mine.” Sandor grunted as he felt you cum around his cock. 

“Yes.” You moan as he kept fucking through your orgasm. You held him tight as he reached for his climax. He let out harsh grunts against your neck as he fucked your cunt. Thrusting in and out rapidly, the sound of your ass hitting against his thighs can be heard. 

“You little minx.” Sandor tells you as he feels your wetness dripping down his balls. Letting out a whine when you felt your clit against his stomach. The feeling of his happy trail rubbing against your throbbing clit made you lightheaded. You were about to cum for a second time. 

“Say your mine.” Sandor cries out about to cum. 

“I’m yours. I’m your woman.” You tell him out of breath. 

“Only yours.” 

You kissed him harshly and sloppy. Your tongue slipped in his mouth as you moaned. Sandor bit your bottom lip when he felt you cum again on his cock. He grunts as he pushes you completely against the tree. His hand leaves your ass to hold both of your legs open as he cums deep inside of you. 

You ignored the pain of the tree bark digging your back as you felt Sandor cumming inside of you. You felt him thrust softly making you whine while he grunted. 

“Fuck, Y/n.” Sandor says as he holds you. He moans as he kisses your neck. He held you against the tree for a moment. He held you, enjoying your warmth and scent. He had to stop to admire you. Your eyes were bright and your lips turned upwards in a smile. 

He wanted to remember you like this. He wanted to say those three words again so you could hear him but fear filled him. What if he said it and he would wake up in that place again. He didn't want to wake up to see the multicolor fabrics on the ceiling.

He winces as he pulls out from you softly so he doesn’t hurt you. He brings you down to your feet. You lean against the tree, your cunt throbbing and legs wobbly. Sandor quickly pulls his pants up. He grabs his handkerchief from his back pocket to kneel down in front of you. 

He looks up at you as he wipes his cum dripping out of you, he’s so tender as he wipes.  Grabbing your discarded pants, he helps you to put them back on.

“Thank you.” You said as you sat down on the ground to put on your boots.  He waits for you as he catches  his breath while leaning against the tree. He looked around for a moment, he hoped no one saw. He knew he was going to kill someone if they mention seeing him with you fucking. 

“I missed you.” Sandor heard you say as you got up and walked in front of him. 

“Me too.” He said as you leaned against him, hugging him. You laid your head on his chest, he wrapped his arms around you placing his chin on top of your head. Sandor had come to be comfortable doing this with you, hugging you. 

He wanted to tell you that you were the first person to ever hug him. He thought what his brother would say if he saw him hugging right now. Gregor, without a doubt would’ve punched him in the face and called him a pussy.

After some time both of you walked back to retrieve the bowls then back to the main camp. You talked to Sandor about what the people from the group wanted to build next. 

Sandor nodded when you mentioned their plans, walking back to the main camp to bring the bowls back. You froze when you saw the body of a woman a few feet away from you laying on the ground. You looked over at Sandor who began to look around for anyone else when an arrow was sticking out of her chest. 

You quickly began to sprint further into the camp and cried out when you saw the group was dead, all of them. Their throats had been split open, others had an arrow in their chest or in their head. 

“Sandor!” He heard you cry out as he walked towards you.  You were kneeling over James. The teenager had an arrow in his chest. He was gurling blood out of his mouth as he tried to speak. “They came back.” You looked up at Sandor who’s eyes darkened at his words. 

“The men on the horses?” You asked as you held the boy's hand. 

“Y-y-ye.” James tried to speak but his eyes closed. You looked up at Sandor and your face fell at the thought of Ray. He was the one who spoke to them. 

“Ray.” You shouted looking around. Sandor quickly walked further to find Ray as well. You got up to follow him, you looked ahead to see Sandor standing still in front of the unbuilt sept. 

Sandor heard you behind and turned around. “Don’t look.” He told you but you didn’t listen. 

You cried as you saw Ray hanging from the half build sept. Sandor continued to stare at Ray. He didn’t deserve to die. He looked away from the body and kept looking around in case the bastards were still around. He had to keep you safe. 

“We have to go.” Sandor told you as he grabbed your arm. Sandor needed to take you back to the shack, he will stand guard all night again. 

“Aren't we going to find them?” You asked him, making him stop in mid step. 

“What?” Sandor asked. 

“I want them dead for killing Ray.” You told Sandor as your face grew angry with furrowed brows. 

You wanted revenge. Sandor nodded, he wanted the same thing. Ray did not deserve it, not after everything he did for you and him. 

“Let’s get our stuff first.” He told you. 

Packing as fast as you can while Sandor got Stranger ready to ride, making sure his sword along with his ax was strapped on the horse. You wiped your tears quickly and walked out of the shack. You handed Sandor another pack. Sandor was about to help you saddle when you did it all by yourself. He sometimes forgets that you have changed. You weren’t the same lady that he left King’s Landing with. He noticed a knife strapped by your belt. 

Sandor rode behind you on Stranger who let out a neigh as it began to walk out of camp. Sandor knew they couldn’t be far. The wounds on the people were still fresh. It was 20 minutes later when both of you heard people talking. 

“Is it them?” You asked Sandor as he got off the horse first a few feet away from. Sandor grabbed his sword. 

“Stay on the horse until we know for sure.” Sandor told you before walking towards them. 

“Oh shit.” You heard from the other members of Brotherhood without Banners. You looked around to see them staring at you and Sandor. 

“Clegane. What the fuck you doing here?” Thoros said, looking at him then at you. 

“My lady.” You didn’t respond to him. 

“Chasing the men who killed the group that was building the sept. We were helping build it. They killed a friend of ours.” Sandor told him. 

“You have friends, Clegane?” Thoros asked, surprised. 

“Not anymore.” Sandor snapped back. 

“No need to chase.” Beric said then looked back at the three men about to be hanged in front of them. 

“They did it. We are going to hang them.” Beric said. You grabbed the reins on Stranger, signaling the horse to walk forward. 

“I’m surprised you’re still with Clegane, My lady.” Beric said as you got off Stranger and walked towards them ignoring Beric. 

“Who killed him?” You asked the three men. 

“Who the fuck killed the man in charge?” You yelled. The left one shouted it was the one in the middle. 

“You fucker!!” The middle man shouted as he looked nervously at you and Sandor. 

“I want him.” You told Beric who looked shocked. 

“Give me this one.” Sandor said, pointing the one to the right since the man was eyeing you. 

“My lady.” Beric spoke but you cut him off. “I want him. I’ll slit his fucking throat.” You grabbed your knife from your belt and Sandor was about to swing his sword.  

“Whoa! Whoa!” Thoros said to both you and Sandor, stopping both of you.

“It’s the brotherhood's good name-“ Beric said standing in front of Sandor.  

“Fuck your name. They are ours to kill. I have killed you once before. I’ll be happy to do it again.” Sandor cut him off quickly and got close to him, staring him down. 

“These are our men. We will kill them. Lady Stark, this isn’t you.” You frowned at Thoros. 

“These men killed our friend. Ray helped us, feed us and cloth us. These fuckers came and killed him.” You hissed looking back at the middle man who looked like he was about to shit on himself. 

“Alright, we will give you two out of respect for your friend.” You looked over Sandor who gave you a nod. 

Sandor raised his sword but was stopped by Beric who told him not to chop off a body part. Only hanging. You continued to stare at the man as Sandor cursed them out about being weak and how he would have killed everyone just to kill the three how he sees fit. 

You sighed as you pushed the barrel softly so it could be longer for him to die. Sandor did the same, you heard Beric and Sandor talking behind you while the three men hanged to their death. All you did was watch them. Their faces turned red while their legs swung around. Sandor looked over at you when you didn’t move or even flinched when the legs of the middle guy got close to you. 

What made you change? He thought. This had to be the first person you killed, right? 

“Y/n?” You turned around at Sandor, he gave you a look. 

“You alright?” He asked. You nodded.

He watched as you walked back to Stranger, the nod you gave him made him feel unease. He looked back at the middle and started to rip his boots off along with his belt so he could have his sword strap to his hip. He knew both of you would need better supplies for traveling up north. Both of you decided to continue the journey again to see Jon. He took the cape from the man next to him as well. Winter is coming and both of you have to be prepared for the cold. 

Beric was kind enough to spare some food for you and Sandor. You kept to yourself as Beric and Thoros spoke to Sandor about the gods bringing them back together for a reason. Thoros looked over you and passed his pouch full of rum towards you. You thanked him with a nod and took a drink. 

“What about you?” Beric said, looking over at you. His eyes watched you carefully then at Sandor. He was a bit worried that you had been this long with the hound. He noticed you looked different as well. 

“What about me?” You asked, passing the pouch back to Thoros. 

“You’re alive. Most highborn ladies aren’t cut out living like this.” You sighed at his words. 

Sandor looked at you as you stared at the fire when you didn’t reply back to Beric. His words cut deep into you, you knew if it wasn’t for Sandor you would have died or worse kidnapped and raped. You would have been at the end of the cliffs sitting next to Sandor’s corpse if it wasn’t for Ray. 

You shut your eyes as you kept seeing Ray swaying back and forth from the half built sept. You missed him. He was the only one who talked to you when Sandor was still sleeping. He stood by your side whenever you tended Sandor’s wound. He stood up for you when the group threatened to kick you for not contributing more when Sandor was still injured. 

You felt so hopeless because you always needed someone to come to your rescue. You wished you could have protected Sandor from Brienne, you wished you could have saved Ray from being hung. You wished you were able to save your brothers, your mother and father. You were so weak and you hated yourself for it. 

The only time you felt strong was that night Ray found you in the shack. Sandor was quick to place a hand on your back when you broke down in tears in front of them. Beric and Thoros stood quiet as you wept. 

“I’m sorry. I miss Ray.” You told them as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand. 

“I would have been dead a long time ago if it wasn’t for him and Sandor.” Beric nodded, giving you a sympathetic look.

“The gods have a plan for you as well. Think about it, you have come so far even with the help of them.” Beric said as he looked over at your shoulder when he noticed a few men from their group noticing you crying. They began to stare at you as they talked among themselves. 

Sandor followed his gaze to the group a few feet away from them. Sandor moved closer to you. His legs practically pushed against yours. He was ready to kill any fucker that would come close to you. 

“Why don’t you join us? Both of you. We need your help. Something is coming this way. We are part of something larger. We need good people to help us.” 

Beric watched as Sandor passed a piece of jerky to you when you finally calmed down.  Thoros and Beric shared a look. Sandor Celgane, the hound is being nice. 

“I need to go to Jon.” You told them. 

“Jon Snow, he’s Lord Commander of the night watch.” Beric said, making you smile at your brother's accomplishment. 

“He’s the only family I have left. We were going to see him.” You didn’t know if your sisters were alive, Jon is your last resort. 

“We want to go beyond the walls. Let’s travel together since we are headed in the same direction.” He suggested. You let Sandor decide, you knew he would pick what was best. 

“Any of your men touch her. I’ll gut them alive.” Sandor said to Beric and Thoros.  

“I do the same if they do.” Thoros admits looking between Sandor and you. 

Riding alone was something you had to get used to quickly, they had extra horses since the hanging. You missed the heat Sandor gave when he rode behind you. You missed the conversations and being close to him. Sandor had told you that he would prefer to have you ride in front of him where he can see you. Beric rode beside you while Thoros rode next to Sandor. You couldn’t help but laugh as they bickered like children behind you. 

Sandor swore that Thoros’ top knot was a wig while Thoros gave Sandor the nickname grouchy old bear. Vulgar insults were thrown at each other.

“Beric?” You called out to the man as you both rode next to each other. 

“Yes, my lady.” He answered looking over at you. 

“Do you truly believe in the gods?” You question him as you try to ignore the bickering behind you. 

“I do. I have been dead 6 times and brought back.” 

“I want to tell you something.” Beric looked at you worried but nodded. 

“Sandor was hurt. Really bad and I  felt his heart stop beating many times but he always came back. There was a woman in the group who said she saw the children of the forest. Everyone thought she was crazy but I didn’t. My father believed they were real but went extinct a long time ago.” You said remember the girl and how her face lit up when telling you stories about them. You felt sad when you remembered seeing her on the ground with her throat slit open. She was the only kind person to you beside Ray. 

“She found me one day and said she spoke to them about Sandor. They gave her something. A flower, they told her to make a medicine out of it. A paste.” Beric watched as your eyes got teary. 

“I did it and Beric it worked. Sandor had his bone sticking out his knee. I thought the scar would have never healed but it did. If you see it, it’s just a line now. I’m telling you this because I don’t know what to believe anymore. If the gods were real, why was my father, a good man, beheaded? Why was my mother and brothers murdered but I was spared?” 

“The gods almost took Sandor away from me. They would have if it wasn’t for the children of the forest.” You said. 

Beric was quiet for a second before speaking. “Y/n, it’s alright to feel conflicted about believing in the gods or something else. It’s what makes humans. Who knows why the children of the forest helped or why you were spared. I ask myself the same question everyday, every hour. Why me? Why am I alive? I’ll tell you something, I knew we were going to cross paths again, Clegane and you.” Your eyes widen by his words. 

“I saw it in the flames. Us riding together going up north.” 

“When I tell you, my lady. That we are part of something I was not bullshitting, maybe it’s the new god, old gods, every fucking god there is and the children of the forest working as one. Now that we are together, we need to find out why. ” 

“You know, Ned talked about you a lot.” He spoke after a brief moment of silence.

“He loved you dearly. He always said that the new and old gods bless him with a child like you. The men and I didn’t think anything of it at first. We just thought it was because you were his first daughter but seeing you now alive after everything. I believe him now.” Beric told you, your heart grew heavy at the thought of your father. 

“You girls done gossiping? Let’s set up camp?” Thoros shouted from behind. 

Sandor and you sat together away from the group for some privacy. Sandor rubbed his hands together as he stared at the small fire a few feet away from him. He wanted to ask you something that's been on his mind for a while now.  That night he saw you sleeping on the ground with a knife in your hand. He wanted to know what made you change while he was asleep. 

“I can hear you thinking.” He looked over you, seeing you smiling at him as you stretched your legs. You were sitting on a log next to him.  

“What’s wrong?” You asked, grabbing his hand that was on his knee. 

“Have you killed anyone else?” He asked you, making you pause. 

You wanted to lie and say no. You didn’t want to cause any problems but you knew Sandor would just know you were lying. You didn’t want to get him angry. 

You nodded, “Aye, I have.” 

Sandor turned to you with a look that made you remove your hand from his. You grew worried. 

“You were still asleep and some man from the group thought he could have his way with me. He came one night.” Sandor frowned and started to breathe heavily. 

“He tried to kill you first and I knew right then and there. If I didn't kill him right away we both would have been dead.” 

“I remembered what you told me, aim for the heart. I grabbed a knife where I kept your sword and rammed it into his chest. I didn’t stop until I heard Ray calling out for me.” 

“Your hand?” Sandor asked, grabbing your hand to see the healed scar on the palm of hand. 

“He tried to kill you. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I grabbed his knife and pushed him.”  Sandor traced the scar with his thumb. 

“You changed, little wolf. I’m sorry. I wasn’t there to help.” 

“Without your teaching, I would have been raped or dead.” You told Sandor. 

Sandor was about to say something when you spoke something that was troubling you.

“I liked it. The killing. The look on his face, his blood, the scent of it. The power I felt and all I can see was Joffrey, Ceresi, the Freys, and fucking everyone who betrayed or hurted us.” 

“I thought of your brother as well for hurting you.” You told Sandor as you looked at him nervously. 

“I know you never told me but I know. Little finger told me. I’m sorry that happened to you.” 

“What else do you know?” Sandor asked, ignoring the apology. 

“Your fear with fire.” You said softly. “I've seen it.” 

Sandor nodded as he looked at you. He kinda already knew that you were aware about the story of his face but he didn’t know that you knew about his fear of fire. He tried to keep it hidden from you. 

“The night of the battle of Blackwater. Everything was on fire and all I thought about was you. I was so scared that the fires would get to you in the castle.” 

“You still want me?” Sandor asked nervously. 

“What?!” You asked.. 

“Do you still want to be with a man who's afraid of fire?” 

“Of course, I do.” You told him, going between his legs, kneeling in front of him. 

“What about you, do you still want me? I don’t look like a lady anymore or act like one now.” Sandor grinned as he shook your head at your nonsense question. 

“Your lady is a murder now?” You added. 

“You aren’t! You protected yourself. It’s defense.” Sandor told you tugging you closer to him. 

“I’m proud of you.” Sandor said with a nod. Sandor wasn’t a man of many words but he really was proud of you. 

“So do I get a reward for keeping my man safe?” You asked as you pulled Sandor down to face you. You kissed scarred cheek making him chuckle. 

Your man, Sandor, loves the sound of that.

“What do you want, little wolf?” He asked as your lips started to head towards his neck. He quickly looked at his surroundings making sure no one was looking. Most were already asleep or talking among themselves. He let out a soft whine when you pulled the collar of the tunic shirt down to kiss his chest, your fingers touching his soft chest hair. 

“What does my little wolf want?” Sandor asked again as he grabbed your chin making you look up at him. He stared down at you with hooded eyes, you let out a shy giggle under his gaze. 

“I want you.” You whispered to him. Sandor immediately leaned down to kiss you on the lips. 

Snow started to fall and the air started to get colder as the group made their way up north Each day you got more excited to get to Castle Rock. You longed to see Jon. You wanted to hug him and tell him about everything. You wanted to tell him about Sandor. You hoped Jon knew something about your sisters. You hoped Sansa was alive as well as Arya. You forgave her a long time ago for wishing your death. You couldn’t be mad at her. Sandor took her friend's life but you understood that he did because the King ordered him too. 

Death was something you thought a lot about even before Kings Landing. You were glad that your father told you about it when you were younger. He didn’t shield you from the world as your mother shielded Sansa. 

“It happens to everyone. We must not fear death. For death comes to everyone.” 

You told Sandor the exact same words that your father told you. It was after Joffrey showed you and Sansa your father‘s head on a spike. He found you on the balcony again later that day, Tears rolling down your face as you stared at your father and Sansa’s septon. The older woman was kind even when Sansa wasn’t. 

He immediately gave you a handkerchief as he stood by you. You grabbed it, giving him a nod of thank you. 

“You’re not afraid.” He said looking at you. You didn’t flinch like Sansa did when she first saw it.  You repeated your father’s words to Sandor. 

“Your father was a smart man.” You shook your head. 

“If he was smart, he wouldn’t have gotten himself killed.” You said looking at Sandor who looked shocked at your words. 

“He was up to something and he didn’t tell me. I don’t know why. I would have helped him. Now he’s fucking dead, leaving my sisters and I in this shit hole.” Sandor watched as you turned around to face the wall and played with his handkerchief in your hands.

“You aren’t like the little bird.” You chuckled at him and agreed. You were nothing like Sansa. She was mostly with your mother while you were closer to your father. 

“Unlike her I learned how the world works at a young age. I learned what my place would be the moment I bled for the first time. That was the moment I realized that the stories I read when I was a child about kind, merciful kings and honorable knights were really just fantasy.” 

Sandor listened attentively as you spoke. You were perhaps the only lady he ever met that spoke the truth and for some reason it made him feel sad. You weren’t a horrible person, you were kind to everyone, especially to him. You deserve the honorable knight and the kind and merciful king. He thought to himself. You’re tough and he liked it but sometimes it bit you right in the ass when it came with Joffrey. Sandor realizes at the moment near the bridge that he likes you and he will protect your sister and you from the monsters living in King’s Landing. 

You knew you should have told Sandor something was not right with you as the days passed. You noticed your moonblood hasn’t started for a while but you didn't think anything of it. Your mother has told you when a lady is under tremendous stress and hasn't been eating properly. Her moonblood would often not come. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you had a good meal or a good sleep. Sandor would give you his share but you always decline. You knew Sandor needed more than you. He wouldn’t let you lift a finger when both of you joined the group. He hunted for food  at dawn with a man who was good with a bow and arrow. He chopped up the woods for the fires every night and morning. Sandor had you stay with Beric and Thoros most of the time. 

You haven’t been able to sleep at night as much as you tried to snuggle with Sandor. Sleep wouldn’t come to you. You began to worry as cold chills ran through your body. 

“What’s wrong?” Sandor asked when he saw you haven’t eaten your ration yet. You had placed the bowl on the ground as you hunched over near the fire. You tugged the fur cape around you when your body started to shake. 

“I’m not hungry.” Beric overheard you and walked toward Sandor and you. 

“What do you mean? You haven’t eaten this morning and last night.” Sandor knelt down to get close to your face. 

“I don’t feel good.” You whispered as you felt the tears welled up in your eyes. You felt like shit, your body was aching. Your fingers and toes felt like they were going to fall off from the cold. 

Sandor stood up and looked over his shoulder to see Beric walking towards him. 

“She’s sick.” Sandor told him as Beric got closer. 

“Fuck, we past by the only town five days ago. It should be a week until we reach the wall.” Thoros came walking in listening to them. 

“I didn’t see a maester in the town we passed.” Thoros told them since he was the one gathering supplies for the group. Sandor let out a sigh, he didn’t see one either but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one for sure. 

Sandor came back to you, kneeling down in front of you again as Beric and Thoros stood a few feet behind him.

“Y/n.” Sandor said your name softly trying to catch your attention but you kept staring off into the distance. 

“We are a week away from the wall. The town we passed by was five days ago. We don’t know if there is a maester in that town for sure. Are you able to hold on for a week?” When you didn’t answer he grew nervous. He noticed you were dozing off. 

“What do you want to do?” He asked, cupping your face trying to get your attention. 

“I don’t feel so good.” You mumbled. Sandor felt his stomach drop when he touched your forehead, you had a fever. 

“I’ll go back to town and come back as fast as I can.” He said as he got up. His words snapped you right out of your disorientated trance. 

“Don’t leave me. Please.” You pleaded, grabbing his hand.  

“I’ll be fine. We keep moving forward.” Sandor looked over to Beric and Thoros. You took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes with the palm of your hand. You didn’t want to be away from him. 

“Try to eat something.” You shook your head. “For me.” Sandor pleaded. 

He grabbed your bowl of warm soup and he sat next to you. Sandor tilted the bowl in your mouth so you could drink straight from the bowl. You didn’t realize you had slept after he fed you. The men from the group watched as Sandor warmed you as you slept, rubbing your arms and back as you leaned against him. 

The second day you weren’t able to ride anymore. You were looking ahead when you felt lightheaded. You let go of the reins and fell off your horse onto the cold snowed ground. Last thing you heard before passing out was Sandor yelling your name. The group knew Sandor was at his last wits when you still hadn't woken up on the fourth day. Sandor wiped the sweat off your forehead and kept the fire burning near you. He rubbed your freezing hands with his warm ones.  They helped Sandor, carrying you up to get on top of Stranger, Sandor kept one arm around you so you wouldn’t fall off as they kept riding to the wall. 

The fifth day, the weather was horrible. The cold wind blew harshly and the horses were growing tired. Beric decided they should set camp when one of the men in the group announced he knew a small cottage ahead. Sandor kept quiet when the familiar cottage came to his view. 

Sandor wanted to keep going for your sake but another harsh wind blew and it made him shake. He had given his only fur to you but the fever was growing stronger. Sandor would be up until dawn wiping the sweat from your face. Every hour he would place his head on your chest to hear your heart making sure you were still alive. 

He would be anxious as he held you closer to the fire during breaks. His eyes would look away from the flames and stare down at you. He had to be close to the fire to warm your hands and feet. Beric noticed the look Sandor had whenever he was near the fire. He offered to hold you near the fire but Sandor would always tell him to fuck off. 

At night he hugged you from behind as he sat on the ground. His back against the tree while the small fire Thoros had made for him was near him. Sandor’s body shook behind you, his forehead pressed against the back of your head.  He didn’t want to look at the fire not while he was this close to it. 

He knew he had to get over his fear for you, every night he tried his best. He wasn’t going to let you freeze to death so he knew he had too. He tried his best to calm his shallow breathing. He shut his eyes and his mind tends to wander off that night in the tavern where you confessed your love to him. 

He didn’t understand why you were sick. Beric and Thoros threw around ideas about your illness. Something you ate, perhaps the water. Ideas were said but in the end they weren’t maesters, they didn't know much. Sandor held you tighter when they got near the cottage. He wondered if the farmer and daughter were still there. 

“Let’s stay for the night.” Beric said, the group agreed.  Thoros held the door open as Sandor carefully carried you inside. Beric grabbed the blankets from the packs to lay it on the only bed in the room for you.

The rest store the horses in the stable for the night, one by one they enter the small place. Thoros started a fire in the fireplace. He looked over at you in pity as you slept. He shut his eyes and recited a little prayer for you.

“The weather will set us back at least three days.” Beric said as Sandor took off his cape to drape it over you. He sat at the corner of the bed with a sigh. 

“I wonder where the farmer went.” Beric said loudly as he placed his pack on the table looking around at the place. 

Sandor kept quiet, ‘somewhere safe.’ He thought. At that moment, he looked over to you when you started to moan in pain as you moved around in the bed. Sandor was quick to get up and lean over you. He called your name out as he grabbed your hand but as soon as he did you stopped. Sandor took a deep breath as he tried not to get angry. He felt so useless that he couldn’t help you. 

“I can go to the wall now. I’ll take my horse and won’t stop until I bring a fucking maester back here.” Sandor said. He was about to take his cape when Beric shook his head. 

“You won’t make it, not in this weather. Be realistic.” Beric told him. Sandor grew mad at his words.

“Then what the fuck do I do?! She hasn't woken up in days. She hasn’t broken the fever. What do I do then? Why don’t you ask your fucking lord of light?” Sandor hissed at him. 

“You said we were part of something but she’s dying now.” Sandor cried out as he looked between Beric and Thoros. 

“It was probably just a fucking lie you told us. You knew since she’s a Stark that Snow would grant you access to pass through the wall. So you can do whatever the fuck your lord told you to do.” Sandor said.

Sandor didn’t notice but Beric flashed a look of anger. He wouldn’t have done that to Ned’s daughter, he respected him. He respected you. 

Thoros looked away from the fire then at Sandor. “Clegane.” He called out. 

“Come here. I want to show you something.” Thoros said when Sandor didn’t move Thoros told him, “Don't worry, the fire won’t bite.” 

Sandor rolled his eyes as he took a deep breath. If it wasn’t for you being sick he would have killed everyone in this room. He can imagine you trying to calm him down. 

“It’s my fucking luck. I ended up with a band of fire worshippers.” He said as he stood up and walked towards Thoros. 

“Almost seems like divine justice.” Beric spoke, making Sandor scoff as he stood a few feet away from the fire. 

“There’s no divine justice, you dumb cunt. If there were, then you would be dead and Y/n would be well.” 

“Look in the flames.” Thoros said  Sandor shook his head. 

“I don’t wanna look in the damn flames.” Sandor answered back. Thoros sighed. 

“You saw me bring him back from the dead after you killed him. Don’t you want to know what gave me the power?” 

“Well, I keep fucking asking and no one wants to tell me.” Sandor answered, looking at him and Beric. 

“We can’t tell you. Only the fire can tell you.” Thoros told him Sandor rolled his eyes as he walked closer towards the fireplace. 

“What do you see?” 

“Logs burning.” Sandor blatantly said. 

“Keep looking.” 

Sandor was thinking about pushing Thoros into the fire for a second but he relaxed and kept looking. He watched as the flames grew. Sandor felt the hair on the back of neck stand up when he saw an image of ice, a wall of ice, the wall that meets the sea. He held his breath when the images started to move.

“Ice, the wall that meets the sea. Thousands of dead people are marching past.” Beric rose up from his seat and walked toward him. 

Sandor flinched when the log broke and the fire got bigger. “There’s a wolf.” 

Beric and Thoros look at each other.  “A big fucking wolf on a mountain staring at me.” 

Thoros was about to speak when you started to cough. The men jumped at the sound of it. Sandor quickly walked over to you. 

“Y/n!” He calls your name out as Beric hands him a pouch of water. 

You felt Sandor’s warm hand on your face as he helped you pour some water in your mouth. You greedily drank the water. You opened your eyes to see Sandor staring down at you worried as he wiped your mouth with his thumb. 

“Sandor.” You say his name. “I’m here.” 

Sandor can see your chest heaving, you were moaning in pain as you laid back down. He grabbed your hands with his. 

“I saw my father.” You croak out. 

“And mother and Robb.” You cried to him. 

“I miss them so much.” You sob. Sandor bit his bottom lip hard to not cry with you. The sight of you sick and crying. He didn’t like it one bit. He felt so hopeless. 

“Tell Jon I love him.” Sandor heard you say. He shook his head and he squeezed your hands. 

“You’ll tell him yourself, you hear me. We are almost there.” Sandor tells you firmly. Sandor feels your hands shaking in his. He brings your hands to his mouth and blows into your hands trying to warm you up.

“I love you.” You whisper at him, Sandor freezes when your hands go limp in his grasp.  Sandor was quick to lay his head on your chest when your eyes closed. He can still hear your heart beating, it was slow. The group of men stayed silent as they heard soft sniffling from Sandor. They were smart enough not to say anything, for they knew Sandor would kill them for even speaking about you. Sandor laid with you on the bed keeping you warm, he couldn’t stop the silent tears rolling down his face. 

Beric was right, the storm caused them to delay for three days. Sandor walked those three days as Stranger pulled the wagon they found in the barn. You laid there with furs and capes given to you by the men of the group. They were 10 miles away when one of the wildlings found them. Sandor had told them who you were and they were quick to let the group in.

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Taglist: @abbiesxox @fruitymoonbeams-blog

[skyfallslayer]

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Two

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas, and soon the exception of the girl’s ex-best friend, Steve, must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins, Indiana.

🎲Chapter Summary: Lucas, Mike and Dustin try to talk to the girl they found in the woods; And Hopper questions an anxious Joyce about an unsettling phone call; Steph and Will must continue to survive; And Steve’s eyes get opened in a way he never saw coming.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 11,024 (Oh, my lord)

🎲Date: 5/16/24

🎲Warnings: Angst; Swearing; Implied Broken Friendship; Talks of Kidnapping; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Implying Sex; Lying; Implied Suicide; Death/Killing; Talks of Corpses; Blood; Gun Use; Steve's 'Asshole Era. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: Jesus. This was a tough one to write and edit (Hopefully I didn't make too many mistakes). But, geez. Writing different POVs, everyone's thought was a tough one. But hopefully y'all can understand 😅. Also, I am NOT a D&D player, so some of lore just comes straight from the wiki. Hopefully that's reliable enough. Anyway, sorry for the delay. Enjoy!

|| THE NIGHT BEFORE || 

“What the fuck are you?!” Will heard her scream as the creature tried to outmatch her. The light above them grew brighter and brighter, and he squeezed his eyes shut while gripping her jacket tighter. He prayed this was just another nightmare. Maybe… Maybe he’s getting his wish when he hears the silence. Does he dare open his eyes and see the truth?

He’s scared, trembling, and it heightens when he hears the girl heaving for air. So much so he clenches his grip on the fabric tighter, the strange smelling air going through his nostrils causing him to gasp himself. When his eyes snapped open is when his coughing fit started.

He hears his name being called, and hands coming around his shoulders. He almost jerks away, afraid, until his orbs settle on the silhouette before him. 

“S-Steph?” He croaked, a sense of relief flooding his veins. “What just happened?” He could see the confusion on her face, looking around for clues. He followed her eyes, nose crinkling at the sight. “We’re still in the shed. But it’s… gross.”

She swallows. “Stay behind me.” She tells him, and guides herself through the door. They both shivered at the sudden drop in temperature. “Jesus, It’s freezing.”

Will and her looked around, the outside world seemed to be encased in a blue hue, the places around seemed to be tangled with vines and covered in something sticky. There was also a white powder that looked like snow, raining down from the dark skies above. A sky that didn’t even have moonlight like it did a few minutes ago.

“Did you hit your head when we crashed?” She asked after getting his attention away from the sky. 

He shakes his head, almost sadly. If that had both just hit their heads, would the situation have been better? He frowns, worriedly thinking away as the older girl tries to stay calm.

“Come on.” She says, gesturing to him to follow. “Let’s go inside. I want to see something.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT || 

The rain was coming down more intensely than before, followed by the grumbling of thunder and lightning. Somehow, miraculously, the boys, mostly Wheeler, managed to convince the strange girl they found in the woods to return home with them, and hid her in the basement.

“Is there a number we can call for your parents?” Mike asked, worriedly as the girl looked between the three boys, all scared and confused.

“Where’s your hair? Do you have cancer?” Dustin spitted out, genuinely curious.

“Did you run away?” Lucas asked, skeptical. 

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Mike says, just as his friend questions a red sustain on her shirt. He slaps his hand away quickly. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!”

“I bet she’s deaf.” Dustin suggested, before taking a quick half step and smacking his hands together. The sound makes the girl flinch, and he frowns apologetically. “Not deaf.”

“That’s enough, all right? She’s just scared and cold.” Mike said, silencing the two before running over to the laundry basket and grabbing some clothes. “Here, these are clean. Okay?”

The girl takes them, taking a second to be grateful before she starts stripping– The boys freak out, Mike running up to stop her while the other two look away. 

“See over there?” He points. “Th-That’s the bathroom. Privacy. Get it?” She nods and he shows her inside. Just when he was about to shut it behind him, she grabs it forcibly. “You don’t want it closed?”

“No.” She finally says, surprising him.

“Oh, so you can speak. Okay, well… Um, how about we just keep the door…” He slowly moves it until there’s about three inches of space. “Just like this. Is that better?”

“Yes.”

Mike smiles and leaves her be, rejoining the group who were having a conversation of their own.

“This is mental.” Dustin said, freaking out.

“At least she can talk.” Mike points out, with Lucas shaking his head, replying,

“She said ‘no’ and ‘yes’. Your three-year-old sister says more.”

“She tried to get naked.” Dustin adds.

“There’s something seriously wrong with her.” Lucas said, touching his temple. “Like, wrong in the head.”

“She just went like…” The Henderson boy makes a motion of taking off shirt (and even knocked his own hat off his head).

“I bet she escaped from Pennhurst.”

“From where?” Mike said, eyebrow raised.

“The nuthouse in Kerley County.” 

“You got a lot of family there?” Dustin teased, getting a dirty look. 

“Bite me. Seriously though, think about it. That would explain her shaved hair and why she’s so crazy.”

“Why she went like…” He does the shirt motion again. In his mind this was helping him and Lucas’ case.

“‘She’s an escapee’ is the point. She’s probably a psycho.”

“Like Michael Myers.”

“Exactly! We should’ve never brought her here.”

“So you just wanted to leave her out in that storm?” Mike asks, irritated. 

“Yes! We went out to find Will–” 

“And Phanie.” Dustin pressures. 

“And Steph – not another problem!” Lucas agrees.

“I think we should tell your mom.”

“I second that.”

Mike holds his hand up. “Who’s crazy now?” 

“How is that crazy?” Lucas scoffed.

“‘Cause, we weren’t supposed to be out tonight, remember?”

“So?”

“So if I tell my mom and she tells your mom and your mom–”

Dustin’s eyes widened. “Oh, man.”

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” Lucas frowns.

“Exactly. We’ll never find Will, or Steph.” Mike says, seeing Dustin make the shirt motion once more, silently asking the question about the girl. “All right, here’s the plan. She sleeps here tonight.”

Henderson perked up again. “You’re letting a girl–” 

“Just listen! In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear. And tomorrow night, we go back out. And this time, we find Will and Stephanie.”

Lucas and Dustin share a look, until one of them finally shrugged. “I guess that works.”  

“Great. We’ll start again tomorrow. Goodnight, guys.” Mike bid them as he went off to start making the mysterious girl a place to rest.

“This is crazy, man.” Lucas said, once they had snuck back out. “What the hell is Mike even thinking?”

“I don’t know. Do you think his plan will really work?” Dustin asked, as they headed over to where their bikes were hidden.

“I’m giving it less than a fifty percent chance of success.” He sighs. “I better get home.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Hey, don’t look so sad.” He pats his curly haired friend on the back. “We’ll find them.”

“I just want my sister back. You have no idea.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

In the following morning, in the Byers house, the eldest seemingly was keeping it together, making the morning meal like he always does and hoping his worrying mother would have just a bite. 

“All right, Mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan said, while placing the plate down in front of her, her thoughts being interrupted. 

“What?” His mother said, before moving some papers. “No, be careful of the poster.”

“Yeah, okay. All right–”

“I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, Mom.”

“Listen, listen. The Xerox place opens in, like…” She looks down at her watch. “30 minutes–”

“Mom–”

“And I don’t want you to go alone–”

“No, I know. I told you, I got it.”

“So I’m gonna have Karen take you, ‘cause I should be here.” She gestures around, all jittery. “Claudia will meet you there, b-but if she’s not, she’ll reimburse us for the copies of Stephanie, I–”

He shakes his head with understanding. “Okay.”

“We need to make, what, 200, 300 copies?” He nods again. “How much is a copy?”

“Mom?”

“Ten cents?”

“Mom?” 

“If we– ten cents”

“Mom, Mom!” Jonathan stops her from counting the cash she had laid out, and squeezes her shoulder with her other hang to calm her. “Y-You can’t get like this, okay?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Joyce replies, taking a shaky inhale of nicotine. 

“No, it’s okay.” He reassures her softly, just before someone comes knocking on their door. The mother rushed over with her son on her tail, busting the door wide open for the exhausted police officer. 

“We’ve been waiting six hours.” 

“I know, I came as soon as I could.” Hopper replies, nearly dead on his feet.

“Six hours.”

“A little bit of trust here, all right?” He slides his hat off. “We’ve been searching all night, went all the way to Cartersville.”

“And?”

“Nothing.”

Joyce made a choking sound and looked away. “God…”

Hopper frowns, sadly. “Flo says you got a phone call?”

“Oh, yeah.” Joyce nods and shows him their phone. 

He picks it, examining the speaker part of it which was charded black. “Storm barbecued this pretty good.”

She took a step back in surprise. “The storm?”

Hopper looked at her like she had two heads. “What else?”

“You’re saying that that’s not weird?”

“No, it’s weird.”

“Can we, like, trace who made the call? Contact the–”

“No, it doesn’t work like that.” He shakes his head, and then looks at her with all seriousness. “Now, uh, you’re sure it was Will? Because Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

“No. It was him, it was Will... and h-he was scared. And then something–”

“It was probably just a prank call. It was somebody trying to scare you.”

“Who would do that?” Joyce questioned, face full of confusion and sickness.

“Well, this thing’s been on TV. It brings out all the crazies, you know. False leads, prank calls, uh–”

“No, Hopper, it was not a prank. It was him.”

“Joyce.” He begins, as she denies him again

“Come on, how about a little trust here?” She laughs dryly. “What, you think I’m– I’m making this up?”

“I’m not saying that you’re making it up.” Hopper looks at her with concern again. “All I’m saying is it’s an emotional time for you.”

“And you think I don’t know my own son’s breathing?”

“Joyce–”

“Hopper, my son’s missing. A-And not only that, someone else’s daughter is missing.” She nervously takes a puff of her cigarette. “And you know what the mess up part about that is? Stephanie didn’t have to! She didn’t have to be the sweetheart she is and take my son home. She could have just drove past him, but she didn’t! She didn’t, Hop. And now I have to live with the thought that I made someone else’s kid go missing because I. Was. Working!” 

She ends with an emotional sigh, tightening the heavy tension it the room. Jonathan worriedly looking at his mother before, locking eyes with the police chief who was trying to find the right words to say.

“You hear from, uh, Lonnie yet?” Hopper asked after the small silence.

“No.”

“It’s been long enough.” He puts his hat back on. “I’m having him checked out.”

“Oh, come on!” She sighs loudly, watching him leave. “You’re wasting your time.” Then the door shuts, and rubs her temple. “Jesus. He never listens!”

Jonathan ponders for a moment, before asking, “Mom, how likely is it that Will would actually go to Lonnie’s?”

“I…” Joyce runs a hand through her messy locks. “It’s possible, but he lives a long, long way. Especially on foot. But… I don’t– maybe he would! I…” She sighs again, overwhelmed. “However, I don’t think he would have gone with Stephanie. He’s… W-Will knows your father’s not the best man, and Will, you know, has that heart of gold.”

That got a chuckle out of both of them. “Yeah.”

“I don’t think Will would have risked Stephanie like that.” She shakes her head. “No. She’s an older kid, and older sister. As much as this sounds messed up, she would have done anything to make sure Will was safe. I know it. So… my question is…” She locks eyes with her son. “What would a girl her age think is a safe place for a young boy?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| TWO NIGHTS AGO ||

Stephanie flipped the lightswitch on in the kitchen out of curiosity, but finds herself still submerged in darkness. “Just what I thought. There’s no light.” She says with a frown.

“The flash of light we saw–” Will looks up at her. “Do you think it was a power outage?” 

“I don’t think there’s light here, I mean-” She starts walking around, rubbing her shaking hands together. “Look at this place. I don’t think we’re in Hawkins anymore.” She shivers just a smidge. “At least it’s a little warmer inside here.” Then she hears a distressful sound. “Will?”

The boy was pale, pupils blown wide and had a small tremble. “W-What do you m-mean we’re not in Hawkins anymore?” He asked, lip quivering with a slight pant. “B-But th-this looks like my house. D-Did w-we get taken somewhere else? Can we even g-go home? I–”

“Shit… Will–” She rushes over, hands coming up to his shoulders while she gets on one knee. “Will? Hey, bud, listen– hey.” She makes sure his gaze meets hers. “Don’t freak out. I know it’s scary, but we’re going to figure this out. Once we do, I’m going to get us home, I promise.”

The boy sniffles into his shoulder, fighting back tears. “You promise?”

“I promise.” She says it without realizing the fate of those words.

He swallows and extends out a certain finger. “Pinky promise?”

Her breath was nearly taken away by that certain question, taking her far back into a distant memory. But… like hell she’s going to let that memory change her judgment. She interlocks hers with his and repeats, “Pinky promise.”

That got him to crack a smile. “So, what next?” He asks, making her rack her brain for a plan.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT DAY ||

He woke up again to his cat’s crying. The young Henderson frowns, heart clenching at how Mews was wondering where his sister was at. For the urban legend of how cats had no emotions, he’s certainly not seeing it. He rubbed his eyes and wandered aimlessly around, the thought of calling sick into school was still fresh in his mind. Should he? I mean it made sense, and it wasn’t like the school won’t understand, so….

Was that a yes?

He walked through the hallway, curls in his eyes as slows in front of his sister’s bedroom. His cat locked eyes with him, sadness and confusion filled the slitted pupils. Mews meows again.

“She’s not back yet.” Dustin says, getting a chirp. “We’re trying. She’ll be back soon.” He starts walking away, hearing him make a sad sound once more. 

“Dusty-bun, I’m going to make some posters.” Claudia said, who were gathering her belongings by the door. “I left you breakfast on the stove.”

His nervous fingers gripped his t-shirt as he tried not to sound so down. “Hey, Mom?” Her eyes meet his gaze. “Is it okay if I… stay home today?”

Claudia’s face softens bittersweetly. “Of course you can, sweety. If you leave the house for whatever reason, just leave me a note where you’re going, that’s all I ask.” She gives him a kiss on his hairline, and is one foot out the door before adding, “Oh! And be back before dark. Okay? Your Mama doesn’t need to worry about another kid.”

“Can do.”

He watches her smile and closes the door, locking it. He frowns at that action, I mean they’ve never locked their door before, and now it was becoming second nature. He was even surprised she told him he could leave the house. Or… did she not expect him to leave this place in the state he’s in? Sounds like something she would do.

He sighs and heads for the kitchen to make himself a plate. He didn’t have much of an appetite, really, but he didn’t want to hurt his mother’s feelings or make her beg for him to eat – he didn’t want to call ‘pot kettle black’ since he was the one that had to convince his mourning mother to eat last night. But it was hard, his fork just picking at the food, cutting it into smaller pieces to stare at before dropping his utensil onto the plate.

Steph… His fingers dug into his pocket and pulled the gold chain out, letting it sprawl out in his palm. He stares at it intensely, thinking. Come on, Sis, give me a sign. What happened to you and Will? What caused you to go off road and run? Run with Will’s shotgun out of all things?

What had got her so scared that they needed a weapon to protect themselves? Both her and Will were the last two people that would resort in violence, so the fact that they decided to arm themselves with a weapon tells him that something sinister was up.

But what? Dustin lays the necklace down next to him, pretending that she was here to eat with him like she always does, before deciding it was time to munch on what was left on his plate.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper struggles to keep his mind clear after that conversation with Joyce. His thought always going back to this particular moment:

.

““Stephanie didn’t have to! She didn’t have to be the sweetheart she is and take my son home. She could have just drove past him, but she didn’t! She didn’t, Hop. And now I have to live with the thought that I made someone else’s kid go missing because I. Was. Working!””

.

Of course the woman felt guilty about everything. I mean, your kid goes missing, who else are you going to blame other than yourself? But she also was chipping away at the idea it was her fault that that poor girl was missing too. Blames herself for working later than usual, and wasn’t the one to come across her own son on the road and pick him up. That’s a lot of guilt for someone who’s holding the family together on her own.

He listens to the volunteers shout the children’s names, hoping that they would shout back. Hopper wishes that too. He prays that one of them would yell back for help and get this nightmare over with.

“Hey!” He shouts at the two officers. “Anything?”

Callahan shakes his head. “You?”

“No, nothing but a dead phone.”

“Joyce?”

Hopper nods. “About one step from falling off the edge.”

“She’s been a few steps for a while now, hasn’t she?” Powell asked, as he’s met with a stern glare. 

“Kid’s missing, man. Show a little class.” Hopper snaps, making them avert their eyes.

“All right…”

He exhales and takes off with the rest of the group, shouting, “Come on, let’s go! We got a lot of ground to cover.” He keeps his fingers crossed that this would be it. That this would be the search that brings them home.

For their mothers' sake.

For his sake.

For every goddamn person out of here’s sake. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE NIGHT BEFORE ||

Stephanie shifted through the last cabinet and frowns. “Well, we can’t cook anything because there’s no electricity. But we can eat the dry goods. Unless we can figure out how to start a fire” She sighs, and wrinkles her nose. I mean, they can go a few days without eating if they didn’t want to touch the box of crackers covered in goo. But water? How were they supposed to have water if the faucet comes out with something they probably shouldn’t drink.

She rubs her temples, thinking. “I guess we’re going to have to look for some bottled stuff to drink.” She makes contact with the boy who just entered the room. “How you feeling?”

“Fine. I got a bit of a chill, but we can still grab clothes out of the closets if we need it.” Will replies, hugging his walkie talkie close.

“And the call?”

“Nothing. I mean I could hardly ever get reception over here anyway, so maybe we can try finding a different spot.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea." She says with a sigh. “Where’s the shotgun?”

“Oh, uh– Mom’s room.” He points behind him.

“Alright, maybe I’ll take a peek outside. If it seems clear, maybe we can try to find some reception.” 

Stephanie leaves the room with Will looking back at his walkie. He had to remain strong, hopeful. He has to get through to someone. His friends, his family, one of them has to be able–

Wait.

Was he hearing things? Was his mind playing tricks?

His eyes trail to his living room where he swears he heard someone talking. It was faint, but you can’t miss it. 

It sounds like… His chest tightens at a thought, his brown orbs blown wide as he looks at the yellow phone on the wall. It was probably hopeless, stupid even, I mean… the damn thing didn’t work when Stephanie tried to call for help when they were being chased. But that was the real world, this was… fake? Maybe it different, maybe it’s—

Oh, shit.

Maybe he’s just grasping at straws at this point and hopes it turns out okay.

His fingers latch around the phone, pulling it off the receiver and dials his home’s number, praying with all his might that this ridiculous idea would actually work. 

Come on, come on, come on, come on, com–

Oh, he felt like crying when someone picked up.

[ ‘Hello?’ ]

His mother’s voice broke through and poke him in the heart. He couldn’t breath as relief washed over him like a storm.

[ ‘Hello? Lonnie? Hopper? Who is this?’ ]

Say something, say something, say something– His lip quivers as he swallows. “M-Mom?” He can’t wait till Steph hears about this. “M-Mom, I-It’s me.” 

She can hear me right? She has to. 

[ ‘Will? Will? It’s Will!’ ]

[ ‘Mom, it’s Will?’ ]

He could cry upon hearing the second voice. “J-Jonathan? Mom? M-Me and Stephanie are tr-trap in some weird place! I-I don’t know what t-to–”

Then he was cut off by the dreadful sound of the monster. Will watched as its claws wrapped around the corner, almost like it was pulling itself into the kitchen. He doesn’t even know where it came from. He didn’t even hear it freaking come in! 

He froze on sight, his mother shouting something he couldn’t make out as the beast with no eyes looked directly at him. He wanted to scream but it was stuck in his throat. Is this how he was going to die? Die by listening to his mother’s pleas to answer her?

It shrieked and seemed to get bigger, ready to strike him down before it took a bullet to the face. The shot made it fall against the wall, and Will drops the fried phone and backs himself away. Stephanie looked half scared to death too as she cocks the shotgun again and fires one more when it stands up, sending it flying to the living room. As quickly as her buckling knees could hold her, she rushes over to Will, pulling him behind her as she aims the barrel into the direction the beast was. Shaking intensely, she carefully peeks around the corner to find that it had completely vanished like it did earlier. She gasps in shock before sliding to the ground herself, mentally drained.

“Steph!!” Will calls out with worry. He could see her eyes glassing over, her skin becoming paler as she shouts, 

“Where the fuck are we?!” 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT DAY || 

Steve strolls into school, head in the clouds, and an aching feeling in the pit of his stomach. His sleep went to complete shit after the conversation with his girlfriend last night. He still doesn’t understand why it was affecting him so much. It’s not like him and Steph hung out anymore. So why is he losing sleep over this?

You’re not even friends anymore, Harrington. He mentally slaps himself. Get your shit together– 

“Boo!” Tommy yelled, jumping out from behind the corner, startling him.

“Jesus, Hagan.” Steve said, holding his chest while the other teen laughed.

“That was so easy.”

“So–” Carol’s arm snakes around him with a grin. “Did you tell your little girlfriend about your party?” 

“I-I… not yet.” 

“What? You didn’t tell her at her house yesterday?” 

“N-No. Never got the chance to.”

“What?!” Tommy scoffs. “Stealthy Stevie didn’t get to use his skills last night?” Him and his girlfriend laughed, but then grew quiet seeing how distant the King was being. “What the fuck’s going on with you, man?”

“Um…” Steve’s gaze gets caught onto someone else, spotting a certain person posting a certain flier up on the bulletin board. He swallows, and masks a fake smile. “You guys go ahead to class. I got to grab something out of my locker.”

“Oh, we can go with you.” Carol begins, trying to follow him but he shakes them off.

“No, no. Go ahead. I’ll meet you there.” Steve ignores the strange looks they gave him before walking away. Deciding this was the ‘only’ way, he rushes over to the oldest Byers kid, ‘accidently’ pushing his shoulder into his, knocking the papers out of his hand while he was leaving. He scoffs, while saying, “Watch where you’re going!” 

Jonathan says nothing as he bends over to collect the rest, oblivious to the other teenager sliding a paper away with his foot. Once he leaves, Steve retrieves the flier from under his shoe, reading it over.  

  HAVE YOU SEEN ME? Stephanie Henderson Age 16, 5’4” Brown Hair, Blue Eyes, 110lbs. Last seen wearing a brown work uniform, black jacket, white sneakers, and a baseball cap. Reach out to Claudia Henderson or Joyce Byers at #### or #### 

Steve stares with a distant look in his eyes, thumb brushing over her picture. Such a gentle smile for a gentle person. God… why did they have to use that picture? It was right before he–

He frowns, throwing his head back. 

Fuck… 

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Back at the Wheeler’s house, Mike decided to stay home, his parents totally unaware of him doing so. He showed the new girl around his place, acting a bit giggly when they finally got to his room. He was so excited to show off his action figures, and comic books, and anything else that he holds close to his heart. He didn’t even realize she was starting to wander off to where a collection of trophies were. Her brown eyes grew with fascination by them.

“Oh, these are all my science fair trophies. We got first every year.” Mike’s smile drops just a tad. “Except for last year when we got third. Mr. Clarke said it was totally political.”

Yeah, it totally was that. He expected some kind of reaction from her, except for the one where her eyes widened and she slowly pointed to the picture of Will in their fair picture together.

Mike perked up, hopeful. “You know Will? Did you see him? Last Night? On the road? Did–” He pauses. “Hang on a sec.” Maybe he’s getting his hopes up as he grabs another photo after shifting around in his drawer. It was a picture of his friends’ families at the lake, posing nicely for the camera. 

He points to the girl in the right hand corner. “This is Stephanie. She’s his sister.” He points to Dustin who’s hanging out behind her. “She supposedly gave Will a ride the night he disappeared, and we can’t find her either. Did you see her too?”

The girl studies Steph’s face, slowly the same reaction she had from seeing Will returned as she pointed again. “I–”

Her answer was cut short when they heard something from outside. Mike gets up quickly, peeking through his curtains to see his mother’s car pulling into the driveway. He pales.

“Shit.” He rushes to grab her by the hand and strings her along. “We gotta hide!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

Of course the eldest stayed awake for most of the night, the two of them tucked away in the far corner of Will’s room, her eyes trained on the door just in case that wretched monster appeared again. She kept a good grip on the shotgun, one foot planted on the ground for a quick pop up if needed. Adrenaline was pumping in her blood, she was fighting off her exhaustion and hunger, while a tune played on her dry lips.

“♪ Here we stand

Worlds apart, hearts broken in two. Two. Two

Sleepless nights.

Losing ground, I’m reaching for you. You. You

Feeling that it’s gone

Can’t change your mind

If we can’t go on

To survive–♪”

Will stirred beside her, his head resting on her shoulder that was starting to fall asleep, but she refused to jostle the kid. God knows he needs his rest. Well… so does she, but she’ll get around to that. 

Her mind wanders back to the conversation they had last night, the one where Will admitted he spoke to his mother on the phone. Shock wasn’t the right word, especially when she examined the phone that had been burnt black, and when asking again if he heard that right, the youngest Byers swears he did. 

Is there actually a way to communicate to… well… ‘our world’, I guess. She ponders on that thought, wondering if it’s possible to do so without frying your phone to death. Not to mention Will swears he heard people talking before calling his mother. Can we only communicate to the people we ‘hear’? 

She scolds herself. This hurts my head too much.

“♪ –The tide

Love divides

Someday, love will find you

Break those chains that bind you

One night will remind you

How we touched and went our separate ways

If he ever hurts you

True love won’t desert you

You know I still love you

Though we touched and went our separate ways– ♪”

Will stirred again, this time waking up slowly with a groan. “Was it a dream…?” He whispers, his eyes opening at a snail pace.

“I wish.” Steph says, sadly.

“Did you sleep okay?” He asks, rubbing his face.

Her heart skips a beat and a lie slips out. “Uh, yeah. It was fine.”

“That’s good.”

“We shouldn’t stay here.” She says, surprising him. “We should probably move around, maybe lose that monster for a while. And you’re probably hungry too, I know my mom keeps cans and bottled water down in our basement for emergencies. That should tie us over for a little while.”

“Is it even safe to go out?” He wonders, yet intrigued. He’ll admit… he is a bit famished. 

“I don’t know. But we got to try. Right?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Whoa, whoa. Careful, careful.” Hopper says as he snags his partner by the collar. “I need you alive for the next few days, at least.”

Callahan smirked and scoffed as he gestures to the Quarry below. “Oh, hell, I could survive that.” He said, making his superior laugh. “What? George Burness made the jump. And he was drunk as a skunk. He did it on a $10 bet.”

“George is a liar. You make that jump from this height, that water turns into cement. Hits you like a ton of bricks.” Hopper smacks his hands together. “Break every damn bone in your body.”

The youngster pondered on that for a second before shaking his head. “Nah.”

[ ‘Chief, you copy?’ ] 

Hopper grabs his walkie from his belt. “Yeah, Flo, talk to me.”

[ ‘Hey, Chief, we got a call from over at Benny’s. I think you need to get there right away.’ ]

And those were words he didn’t want to hear. So he and his team rushed over there as quickly as they could, and the first they were met with was the smell of a rotting corpse. 

“Ugh, Jesus!” Callahan said, covering his nose.

“Suicide?” Powell asked, after a moment of silence. 

Hopper hummed and stared in disbelief at the man laying on the table, pistol in hand and a bullet wound straight through the temple. There’s no way this can be real.

“Missing kid, suicide.” Callahan frowns. “You must feel like a big city cop again, huh, Chief? 

“Well, I mostly dealt with strangers back then.” Hopper replies, this particular moment he almost broke down. “Benny was my friend.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

Stephanie peeked outside before gesturing to Will to follow. The two of them had backpacks on that they found lying around, going to use them to fill up with anything they could find – But the task that lay ahead was going to be hard. The task was…

Walking back through Mirkwood to the Henderson home. 

No lights, just a few bullets to spare, and their pure will to survive (Or maybe it’s the fear that’s fueling that will).

“I don’t like this.” Will mutters, only a few minutes after they left the Byers’ driveway and down a few feet on the road. “What if that thing spawns in front of us again?”

“Then we shoot it and book it again. That’s all we can do now.” Steph replies, carefully looking around. But what if he’s right? What if thing actually just spawns out of thin air? Then there’s not telling where and when not to go.

He stays silent, shaking a tad as they make it further down the road. It took a hot minute for the older girl to notice this and stop briefly, the twelve year old’s eyes confused just as she held out her hand. Without missing a beat, his clammy hand takes it, squeezing it tight. She smiles just a tad, reminding her of Dustin before they started walking again.

She felt him hang on to dear life as they strolled into the darkest part of Mirkwood, the eeriness that was silence was making their hearts race. She came to a conclusion after facing the monster last night that she had to be the strong one here. She has to act like the older sister again, and remain calm, and to keep him safe.

I made a promise. I don’t know how to fulfill it just yet, but I’m going to get him out of here. Steph casts a glance down at him, the poor boy’s face looked so cold. Does hers look like that too?

She grins after a quick thought. “Hey–” His eyes locked with hers. “What does a ‘Ranger’ do in D&D? That one sounds intriguing to me.”

His face lights up. “You actually want to play D&D?”

“Hey, you suggested it, I might as well. So, the Ranger? What’s that like? The lore?”

“Well, Rangers are warriors that explore different civilizations, and they hunt down the deadliest of monsters. They’re trained in many different combat techniques, survival skills, and even some magic.”

“Magic? I like the sound of that.”

“They mostly reside in the forest, or anything ‘nature-y’.” 

She chuckles. “I don’t like the sound of that. What else? Aren’t there like… classes… or different types?

“Oh, yeah.” He nods. “I guess it depends on what you prefer. Do you want me to tell you?”

“I’m all ears.” Steph said, making a motion. I’m just glad he’s stopped shaking.

“Well, there’s a lot. The most common ones are ‘Beast Masters’, which are accompanied with an animal companion. Then there’s ‘Hunters’, which are mainly just professional assassins that take down monsters of all sorts. Now, even though all Rangers have the capability of taking monsters down, Hunters are strictly made just to do that.”

She hums. “Interesting.”

“Then there’s ‘Gloom Stalkers’, who live mostly in dark realms, and take down the shadowy beasts roaming the territory. They’re pretty good at ambushing their opponents.” He smiles. “Personally, I find that the coolest.”

“Well, I can see why. What else? Do Rangers get weapons?” 

“Of course! The most common is a two-blade or archery.”

“Archery sounds cool.”

“See, I agree. But I know Lucas always says it’s ‘stupid’, so–”

Steph shakes her head with a sigh. “Oh, well. I guess I’ll have to prove him wrong when I play.”

“So you are going to play with us!” Will said, joyfully, like you just told him Christmas was coming early.

“If that’s how I prove Lucas wrong, then so be it. So how does one newbie play D&D?” She asked, hopefully this will keep him occupied. At least I can keep him distracted until we get there.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT ||

“Are you out of your mind?” Lucas said, as soon as Mike was done with his explanation for them being here. 

“Just listen to me.” Mike pleads.

“You are out of your mind–”

“She knows about Will and Steph.”

Dustin perks up after being the silent one here. “What do you mean she knows about them?”

Mike grabs the pictures from earlier and holds them up. “She pointed at them, at their picture. She knew they were missing. I could tell.”

“You could tell?” Lucas asked, looking between the pictures and the girl who was on the bed.

“Just think about it. Do you really think it was a coincidence that we found her on Mirkwood, the same place where they disappeared?”

Dustin nodded, agreeing. “That is weird.”

“And she said bad people are after her.” Mike said, with a frown. “I think maybe these bad people are the same ones that took Will and Steph. I think she knows what happened to them.”

“Then why doesn’t she tell us?” Lucas asked, glaring at her direction before stomping over. “Do you know where they are?” He grabs her by the shoulder. “Do you know where Will and Stephanie are?!” 

“Stop it, you’re scaring her!” Mike pulls him away, as his friend brushes him off.

“She should be scared! If you know where they are, tell us! This is nuts. We have to take her to your mom.”

“No! Eleven said telling any adult would put us in danger.”

“What kind of danger?” Dustin asked, his thoughts from earlier about his sister and Will taking a shotgun with them crossed his mind.

Lucas gives him a weird look. “Her name is Eleven?” 

“El for short.” Mike clarifies.

“Mike! What kind of danger?” Dustin pushes, his stomach turning.

“Danger danger!” The brunette makes a finger gun and points it between Henderson’s eyes before moving over towards Lucas who demises quickly.

“No, no, no!” Sinclair snaps, rushing for the door. “We’re going back to plan A. We’re telling your mom.”

He pulls open the door only for it to slam shut automatically. Not even batting an eye at that, he tries again, for it to not only to shut with more force but to even lock itself. The boys look back at the only explanation, and they see El standing on her feet with a drop of blood coming out of her nose.

“No.” She said, with a tone that told them not to push it.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Back at the station, Hopper was questioning an anxious friend of Benny’s. Earl was his name, and he was sitting in a chair, eyes full of disbelief as he lit a cigarette.

“Just doesn’t make any sense, Chief.”

“You, uh, notice anything odd about him the last few weeks?” Hopper asked, trying to keep it professional (even though this case was hurting him the most). 

Earl shakes his head. “No, we’re fixin’ to go fishing down the Etowah next Sunday. I mean, he was lookin’ forward to it. I know that.”

“He got any enemies you might know about? I mean, people who might not want him around?”

“The exes didn’t like him much. That’s for sure, but… nah.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Yesterday. Lunch, same as always.”

“Just you and the boys?”

“Yep. Me and Henry and…” He pauses. “Well, there was this, uh, this kid. No kid did this.”

“Kid?” Hopper nearly perked up hope. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah. At lunch, uh, there was this boy that, uh I mean, he was trying to steal food out of Benny’s kitchen. Can you imagine that?”

Hopper locked eyes with Callahan who got the silent message. “This kid what’d he look like?”

“Well, he was about yea high.” Earl raises his arm up and out. “You know, tiny like. I didn’t get a good look at him, though. He was back in the kitchen.”

“He look like this?” Callahan asked, coming back with a missing kid poster of Will. 

He takes the flier, and immediately shakes his head. “Oh, no, that’s… that’s Lonnie’s missin’ kid. No. This was a different kid. This one had really short hair. I mean, it was buzzed nearly down to the scalp.”

Hopper tries not to let his composure break, and continues to hold on to the slimmer of hope. “Yeah, well, let’s… You know, let’s forget about the haircut. I mean, if this kid had a buzz cut… could it be Lonnie’s kid?”

“Well, I-I… didn’t get a good look at him. About the right height, though. I mean, could’ve been. Yeah, that’s… Could’ve been.”

Hopper frowns, taking the poster back from him. “And, you only saw the boy right? No girl? Teenager? Dark hair?”

“No.” Earl shakes his head once more. “No. I didn’t see a girl.”

The Chief mentally sighs. This is not good.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

[ ‘A party?’ ]

Finally! Steve thought, pumping his fist. She finally sounded intrigued. He was hoping this would make up for his weird behavior at school. 

And, no, no, no, It wasn’t because of– well… ‘you know who’. Totally not because of her. Totally, totally, totally not–

[ ‘Steve?’ ]

Nancy’s voice broke through his totally not clouded mind. “Uh, yeah, sorry. Yeah, a party. Well… kind of. It’s just going to be me, Tommy H. and Carol. No parents for the whole weekend, so we wouldn’t have to worry about them coming in and ruining the mo-jo.”

Just my friends and my girlfriend. Just having fun, no worries about–

[ ‘Not much of a party with just four people.’ ]

He laughs. “Okay, I’ll admit, it’s a little sad. But you know, it’s better this way. And, you know, if you want to, you can invite Barbara. If it makes you feel more comfortable. Or not. Or you don’t have to come–”

[ ‘Steve.’ ]

“Yeah?”

[ ‘I’ll totally come. But I’m going to try to convince Barb first if that’s alright.’ ]

“Yeah, Yeah. Totally. It starts at seven.”

[ ‘Starts at seven. Got it. I’ll see you then.’ ]

He smiles. “See you then. Bye.”

[ ‘Bye.’ ] 

“Yes!” He said, once he hung up the phone. “Finally.” He feels his spirits get lifted again. “This is going to be perfect.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

“Welcome to Mi Casa.” Stephanie said, upon entering her home. Just as gross and dark as Will’s. 

“You said the basement, right?” Will asked, the thought of eating something sounded nice.

“Yep.” 

They thought navigating below “sunlight” was going to be hard, but I guess living in darkness for nearly twenty-four hours had its perks. Finding the tote where the emergency supplies were easier than they thought, their stomachs growing when they saw the cans of food. 

“Hang on second.” Steph said, disappearing back up the stairs for a sec, and then coming back with some forks and a can opener. She uses her shirt to wipe it clean the best she could before using. “Pineapple or Peaches?”

“Pineapple, please.” Will said, drooling as she placed the open can in his hands. The two of them plop down criss-cross applesauce, sighing with relief that they could finally take a rest.

“We’ll have to take what we can, but don’t make your bag too heavy in case we need to run again. Got it?” She replies, sliding over a bottle of water to him too. He nods, and takes a second to chug some liquid too.

One can was enough for now, since none of them had any clue how long they’ll be here, they’ll need to ration what they can find. Food, water, a first aid kit, some mittens and hats, an extra jacket, socks (And Will was proud to find a half box of matches laying around).

“Do we need anything else?” He asked, making her think.

She hums, and feels around her pockets. “We need more ammo. Or another gun at least.”

“Do you have any?” 

“No. I don’t.” She closes her eyes. Now where could we get more nearby? 

But the more she thought about it, the more she dreaded. She does know one place they have a gun, and hopefully still does since it’s been so long. 

She sighs. “I know… one place that has a gun. It’s far though. Really far. It’ll take us a couple hours to get there on foot. But it’s closer than going to town.” 

“If that’s what we have to do, then let’s do it.” Will said, sliding his backpack back on, ready to start their journey again. He flashes her a goofy grin. “I hope I can count this as PE for school.”

If that was a joke to cheer her up then it totally worked. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Now that they might have a lead, the police and its volunteers spread out in the woods behind Benny’s diner, hoping to find some good news (For Hopper’s sake he really hopes so). 

“Hey, you think Earl really saw Will?” Callahan asked, trying to keep up with his Boss’ speed. “I mean, what’s he doin’ with a shaved head? And stealing food from Benny?”

“Tell you what, when we find him, we’ll ask.” Hopper replies, with an attitude. 

“Can’t ask a corpse questions.” Powell said, getting a glare. Suddenly, one of the volunteers blew a whistle. 

“Hold up! You got something?” Hopper shouted and broke into a sprint. “Hey, what do you got?”

“Not sure.” The person said, crouching down next to a drain. “Maybe nothing. I found this. In there.”

Hopper takes a piece of fabric from his hand, before shining his flashlight through the drain, still hopeful that maybe he was lying in there, scared but safe. 

“No way a kid crawls through there.” Powell said, in denial.

“I don’t know… a scared enough one might. His brother said he was good at hiding.”

“Yeah, but, just Will?” Callahan asked, conflicted. “What happened to Stephanie? ‘Cause there ain’t no way a teenager’s going to fit through this drain pipe.”

“Maybe they separated?” Powell questioned. 

“I’m not so sure about that. Claudia said her daughter would never leave anyone behind.”

“Willingly that is.”

“Come on, you two.” Hopper said, jogging again.

This time, they decided to follow the drain pipe that led them further into the forest. Just as their knees were about to give out, they’re met with an electric fence and a keep out sign for the one and only…

.

.

.

Hawkins Lab.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“El?” Mike announces his arrival into the basement. He had just finished having dinner with his family, and even convinced his mom to let his friends stay the night. All part of his plan to figure out what was happening to his missing family.

“No adults. Just us and some meatloaf.” He continues, placing a tray down in front of the makeshift fort, letting her know to come out. Her eyes trail to him and then to the two boys falling behind. “Don’t worry. They won’t tell anyone about you. They promise. Right?”

“We never would’ve upset you if we knew you had superpowers.” Dustin said, before getting hit in the leg by Mike. “Ow!”

“What Dustin is trying to say is that they were just scared… earlier. That’s all.”

“We just wanted to find our friends.” Lucas admitted, feeling a tad guilty for his actions. 

“‘Friends’?” El asked, confused by that word. It was so foreign to her. What does it even mean? 

“Yeah, friends. Will? Steph?”

“What are ‘friends’?” 

Lucas gave her a weird look. “Is she serious?” Henderson shrugged. “Um, a friend–”

“Is someone that you’d do anything for.” Mike cuts in. 

“You lend them your cool stuff, like comic books and trading cards.” Dustin adds.

“And they never break a promise.”

“Especially when there’s spit.” Lucas also puts in, making sure she was getting it.

“Spit?” El said, tilting her head.

“A spit swear means–” He spits into his palm. “You never break your word.” He holds his hand out for Dustin to take and shake. “It’s a bond.”

Mike nods in agreement. “That’s super important, because friends… they tell each other things. Things that parents don’t know.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Barbara finally pulls the car over to the side after her friend insisted they stop here. She looks over at the brunette with a strange look. “What are we doing here? His house is three blocks away.”

“We can’t park in the driveway.” Nancy said, making the ginger roll her eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, the neighbors might see.”

“This is so stupid.” Barb shakes her head. “I’m just gonna drop you off.”

“Calm down, Barb. Come on. You promised that you’d go.” Nancy pleaded with her ‘baby doe’ face. “You’re coming. We’re gonna have a great time.”

“He just wants to get in your pants.”

Nancy chuckles with disbelief. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Nance… seriously. He invited you to his house. His parents aren’t home. Come on, you are not this stupid.”

“Tommy H. and Carol are gonna be there.”

“Tommy and Carol have been having sex since, like, seventh grade.” Barb cringes at the thought. “It’ll probably just be, like, a big orgy.”

“Gross.”

“I’m serious!”

“All right, well…” Nancy takes her seat belt off and starts unbuttoning her sweater. “You can be, like, my guardian. All right? Make sure I don’t get drunk and do anything stupid.”

“Ugh.” Barb said, shaking her head. She watches as her friend takes her top off and starts fiddling around in her purse for another one. “Is that a new bra?”

Nancy pauses. “No.”

“So, obvious, Nancy…”

“Hey.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•° 

“What’s the weirdo doing?” Lucas asked, watching her sit at their D&D table and close her eyes. 

“El?” Mike said, as they gathered around, waiting.

When she opens her eyes, she slowly gravitates to one of the pieces and picks it up. “Will.” She replies, showing it was the Wizard piece, the one that the boy always plays as.

“Superpowers.” Dustin said, as Lucas rolled his eyes, still not convinced about this whole thing. 

“Did you see him? On Mirkwood? Do you know where he is?” Mike asks, just before she brushes the rest of the figures off the board and flips it over. She places the wizard piece on the board. “I don’t understand.”

“Hiding.” She replies, the boys looking at one another. She then places another figure down, surprising them.

“Who is that supposed to be?” Lucas asked, as Dustin perked up.

“The Ranger. Is that Stephanie?” He asked, as she nodded. “Are they hiding?” She nods again. “Together.” Another nod.

“From the bad men?” Mike asked, but she shakes her head in disappointment. “Then from who?”

And without saying another word she places another figure down.

It was a beast with two heads.

.

.

.

The Demogorgon.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW ||

It took a while like she said, and luckily they had no trouble getting there, but what was troubling the young boy was that she wouldn’t tell him where they were going. Was she embarrassed by this place? Did something happen? He doesn’t know, but it’s gnawing at him.

“We’ve arrived.” She said, as they were coming up to it.

It was… a pretty big house, much bigger than his and even his friends’ houses. He wonders if this was one of the rich neighbourhoods or something like that. And sure enough… his questions would be answered when he happened to catch the name on the mailbox. 

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Now he understands why she didn’t say anything. 

“So this is the…” Was he choosing his words correctly? “The King’s house?”

“Yep.” Stephanie said, hand on the doorknob which miraculously opened. She rolls her blue eyes. “They still keep it unlocked.” They stepped inside, still gloomy and covered in vines and goo like the last two. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Will follows behind, observing everything that seemed a bit foreign for him. “I knew they were rich but I didn’t know they were that rich.” He said after observing art piece after art piece that he knows isn’t locally made.

“Yeah, they got crazy money.” She said, and her pace seemed to quicken without her noticing. She hustles into the parents room, opening the closet to find a safe. “Shit.” She forgot about the lock. “Where did that bastard put the key?”

Stephanie starts running around the bedroom, pulling open drawers, looking through trinkets, his wife’s jewelry box too – A curse word after every failed attempt.

“Steph?” Will said, worriedly.

“Just give me a second.” She snapped, and left the room. She starts opening the drawers from the tables in the hallway, visibly getting more annoyed with each second. “For fuck sakes–”

“Stephanie!”

“What?!” She slammed it shut, rattling everything that was on. The force and her tone seemed to shock him, and even take a small step back. She grips the table, closing her eyes to calm herself. “Fuck. I just…”

And when she opens them she finds herself staring at the boy she wanted to forget about. It was a picture of him on his swim team, the frame saying: Championship 1981. She just stares at with emotions the youngest Byers couldn’t figure out what they were.

“Steph?” He asked, slowly.

“Yeah?”

“What happened to you and Steve?”

She continues to stare at the photo for another minute before pushing herself to stand. “I think he still keeps that knife in his room.” Was what she muttered before heading in the opposite direction to another room. 

Will could only wonder what really happened to them…

.

.

.

Just as the lights started to flicker.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•° 

|| PRESENT ||

Inside the most “fabulous” party of the year, Barb laid back in one of the pool chairs, listening to the terrible music that’s blasting in her ear as her best friend watches her boyfriend slice a hole into a beer can and start drinking it all in one go.

“Is that supposed to impress me?” Nancy asked, as he sat down and lit a cigarette. 

“You’re not?” Steve asked, genuinely surprised. 

“You are a cliche, you do realize that?”

“You are a cliche. What with your– your grades and your band practice.”

“I’m so not in band.”

“Okay, party girl. Why don’t you just, uh, show us how it’s done, then?” He hands her the knife and a can.

“Okay.” She says, all giggly.

“You gotta make a little hole right in–”

“I got it.”

“Yeah, she’s smart, you douche!” Tommy said, as he crushes his own can on his forehead. 

Soon, everyone was chanting “Chug” as Nancy down a whole beer in under thirty seconds. Everyone cheered and laughed, proud at the achievement. 

“Barb, you wanna try?” Nancy asked, holding the blade up.

“What? No. No, I don’t want to. Thanks.” She said, shaking her head. But after a quick back and forth badgering she finally gave in. She rips the items out of the girl’s hand, clearly upset. It wasn’t long before her judgment was clouding her mind and accidentally nicks herself. 

“Whoa, Gnarly.” Tommy said, impressed by the deep cut.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked, worriedly.

“Yeah.” Barb said, trying to push her away. 

“Barb, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh, it’s– Steve stands up, and starts taking her over to the sliding door. “It’s, uh, down past the kitchen, to the left.” He frowns. Shit of course.

But before he could say anything, Tommy had pushed Carol into the pool and then jumped in after her. Steve then shrugs, and lets a smirk play on his face as he does the same to Nancy before doing a cannonball.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW ||

Steph tries to contain herself as she enters his room. It was taking a lot of strength not to just start flipping things over, and tear those stupid pendants off the wall.

Stupid fucking house. Stupid fucking room. Stupid fucking Harrington. She grits her teeth, fighting back the tears in her eyes as she desperately tries to remember where he hid the blade.

She lets out a groan. “For fuck sake’s, man! Where did you put it?!” She yells, and kicks whatever was near her. She swears something must have fallen out from it, but she doesn’t even want to look. 

God damn you, Harrington. She scolds, and rubs her face. How can he–

That’s when the light in his room flickered on and off scaring her half to death. “What the–”

“Stephanie!” Will’s voice shouted, kicking her into high gear.

“Fuck.” She mumbles, and races to find that blade.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT || 

As soon as Barb comes out of the bathroom, she immediately spots a certain someone heading up the stairs. “Nance! Nancy.” She shouts, getting her to stop. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere. Just… upstairs. To change. I… fell in the pool.” Nancy said, feeling like she was on cloud nine. “Why don’t you go ahead and go home. I’ll just… I’ll get a ride or something.”

“Nance–”

“Barb, I’m fine.”

“This isn’t you.”

“I’m fine. Just go ahead and go home, okay?” 

And then Nancy leaves her all alone, confused and heartbroken by her friend’s actions. But despite being hurt, she couldn’t just up and leave her drunken buddy like this. So… 

She decides to wait.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Steve had found her some clothes she could change in, and he was grinning like a kid upon the thought of seeing his girlfriend in his clothes. 

I’m such a dork. He tells himself as she calls out his name. “Yeah?” There was a look in her eyes that he’s never seen before, and honestly was turned on by it.

But ‘Fuck that’, says the universe, and the home phone starts to ring.

He groans, irritated. “Hang on a second–” He proceeds to run out of the room, and shouts, “Hey! Turn the music down in case it’s my parents.”

Nancy chuckles, cheeks flush because she was ready to lose her– wait. Did something just touch her leg? She looks down to find that a box was tipped over and had opened, and wonders when that happened. Did she accidently kick it without realizing? Or was it already like that? Frankly, curiosity got the best of her as she crouched down to try to fix it. But then, her actions slowed when she saw something.

The Wheeler picks up a paper – a flier – to her surprise was the missing poster of Stephanie Henderson. 

“What?” She says, quietly, confusedly. Why was he keeping this? And that’s when she puts two and two together. She starts shifting through the small pile which was made up of photos, movie tickets, receipts from a record store, arcade tokens and– “Oh, my god.”

Suddenly, Steve comes jogging back in, relief on his face. “False alarm. It was just–”

“So who is she to you?” Nancy asked, standing up and flashing the memorabilia at him.

His face falls immediately. “Hey, that’s–”

“Is she the person that was rumored you pushed away?”

“It’s nothing.” Steve replies, trying to take the stuff away from her, but she ain’t budging.

“It’s nothing, or she’s nothing?”

“It’s– W-What? You jealous?” He asked, trying to play this thing off cool, but his girlfriend wasn’t stupid.

“I’m not jealous. I’m just curious.” Nancy replies, honestly. She takes another look at the photos in her hand before looking back at him. “I mean, if she isn’t your friend anymore, then why do you hang on to all this stuff? Or better question–”

“Nancy, stop, it’s just–”

“Why did you break it off?”

His brain short circuits again. “What?”

“I said, ‘Why did you break it off?’ I mean…” She flips through some of the photos he has, memorized. “From what I see, you two remind me of Barb and I. You two look like you were tied at the hip. So why break it off?”

“I…” Why couldn’t he fucking talk all of a sudden? “I didn’t, I–”

“So, she broke it off?” She said, eyebrow raised. 

“No. I-I broke it off, she didn’t do anything–”

“So… why did you?”

“Nancy–”

“Look, I just want to understand you. I mean, every time I think I have you figured out you throw me through a loop.” She gives him a reassuring look as she picks up the box, shuffling whatever was remaining around. “I mean, from what I see, you seem like a completely different person then. I just wonder if it’s a good thing or a bad–” 

Now it was her turn to look lost (and for Steve to lose all the color in his face). She frowns, slowly pulling out a small casing. “Is this a… bullet?”

“That’s nothing!” He manages to snag at least that away.

“Why do you have a bullet in the box?!” She asks, eyes blown wide.

He swallows. “Nancy–”

“Did you shoot her or something?”

“What?!” He scoffs. “No! Why would I shoot her?!”

“Well did she shoot you?”

“No! Nobody shot anybody, it was just–”

“Then why do you have a stray bullet cas–”

“‘CAUSE IT WAS MY FAULT!! OKAY?!” Steve snaps, startling them both (He can’t believe he just lost his cool like that). He swallows again, head spinning at the memories (Why did he fucking leave the box right there?). “I just… there was an incident and… it… shaped my decision, okay? But it didn’t involve me or her with a gun, it was… s-someone else. Someone I know. I don’t know why I’m holding onto it, I…” He sighs and grabs the box, holding it out for her to put the stuff away.

It takes her a moment to process it all, and she does put all the stuff in her hands away, but she remains silent the whole time. She’s never seen him act this way before.

It honestly concerned her.

Nancy breaks eye contact, and only reverses it when she gathers the right words. “Look, Steve, I’m sorry I intruded, I probably shouldn’t have but… I’m just trying to understand you.”

Steve shakes his head, still confused. “I-I…” He shrugs, and crosses his arms defensibly. “What’s there to understand?”

Nancy gestures to him and says, “Well, for starters, you’re an airhead and–”

“So?” He cuts in, as she holds her tongue and continues. 

“And you’re arrogant, snarky, and sweet–”

“Sweet’s fine.”

“Of course. Sweet’s fine. I love how nice you are to me, Steve.” She then frowns for him. “However, that gets overshadowed by your… insecurities.”

He pauses, now it was his turn to take in those words (What the hell did she mean by that? He’s not… no). “I don’t… I don’t have any… any–”

“Steve.” Nancy takes a step closer. “I don’t know why the kid in these pictures decided to change into the one I’m seeing before me, but if that doesn’t have to do with any insecurities, then I’m not sure why you decided to make that change willingly.”

“I… W-Willingly?” He scoffs again. “What do you mean? I never change willingly? What are you even getting at, Nance?” He hasn’t changed. He’s never changed. What is she even getting at?

But Nancy looked at him with eyes full of pity and took another step closer. “I don’t know what the reason was for you two to stop being friends, but all I know, from what I gathered, she wasn’t the one to end it.” She places Steph’s flier on his chest that he subconsciously grabbed, and said one last thing before leaving his room. And that was,

“Maybe there was a good reason for you to end it, but that’s not an excuse for you to stop being who you really are.”

And Steve’s left with an epiphany he’s not sure he can decipher. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW || 

As soon as the lock was broken, she retrieved the gun from the safe and frantically told her companion to get down the stairs. Will and Steph’s hearts were in their ears, and it sped up when the light above the front door flickered.

“Shit–” She pulls the boy to a halt, and redirects them to the back door. “Go, go, go, go, go.” 

She throws open the sliding door, and out into the backyard, but as soon as they step foot onto the ground, the lights around the empty pool start to flicker. The two of them stopped immediately and held their breaths. They weren’t sure where the beast was at, but it was definitely nearby ready to snatch them up.

They were afraid to even breathe or twitch. What if this thing really does appear out of thin air?

They both jolted when a loud growl came from somewhere inside the pool. Wasting no time, Steph taps Will on the arm and makes a shushing gesture, then waves him to follow her. The boy understood completely, and the two of them move slowly, so carefully that there’s not way–

The both of them screamed when two human hands grabbed onto the top of the pool ladder. 

A girl’s head poked up, face battered and covered in grime, her glasses shattered and splattered with blood. The girl looked so fam–

“Nancy!!” She shouts, as something growls behind her, scaring all of them to their core. And when her eyes landed on the two of them, she desperately yelled for help just seconds before the beast’s claws wrapped around her head and pulled her back. 

Will and Steph matched the girl’s scream, and the beast roared in delight that his prey was just right in front of it. Its claws could be seen grabbing the ladder, like it was trying to crawl out and feast.

That’s when the two of them booked it. 

The guns rattled in their hands.

The tears in their eyes.

Whatever this place was, they knew…

.

.

.

This couldn’t get compared to hell itself.

(TBC)

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