#i did not intentionally set out to do this with last year's so it wasn't fun :( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roosterforme · 2 years ago

Text

The Younger Kind Part 13 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley sees Meredith again after so many months, he is filled with a range of emotions. He wonders if he has done enough for Noah on his own. His primary mission in life is to be the best dad, the one Noah deserves, and he has to be honest about how that is going to affect what he has going on with you.

Warnings: Angst, smut, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley was up early. He'd barely slept anyway, but that wasn't entirely Meredith's fault. He had been scrolling through all the photos of you that he had saved on his phone, and he even considered calling you well past midnight.

He had a bad feeling. Meredith had never gone this far before. Last year and the year before, she had simply called Bradley, begging for an update about Noah around his birthday. And once he had sent her some updated photos, she briefly bugged him about custody, and then she had vanished again. But now he felt like he had made things so much worse by ignoring her calls for so long.

"What the fuck," he muttered as he got dressed. Meredith had followed you and Noah to the damn park! He wanted to believe that she wouldn't intentionally do any actual harm, but she obviously spooked you. Since you had no idea what she looked like, your reaction had been to put Noah's safety first.

Every time Bradley thought about you protecting his child, he got a warm feeling in his chest. Simply thanking you wasn't enough; he wanted to hold you and Noah and spend hours explaining it to you. Then maybe he could understand this feeling better himself.

But you got hurt in this mess that Bradley had helped create. And he needed to make it better if he could.

There was a light knock at his front door, and he went to answer it as he zipped up his jeans. "Hi," Nat whispered, giving him a tight hug as he let her inside. "What time is she coming?"

"I have no idea," he replied miserably, and Nat rubbed his back for a moment. When Bradley called her last night, she agreed to watch Noah while Meredith came by. He wanted to find out what Meredith wanted before he let her see Noah.

"Okay, well, I'm free all day. I'll take Noah with me back to my place, and you can just call me after Meredith fucks off."

Bradley nodded.

"And if Meredith doesn't feel like fucking off," she added, "I'll make her."

Bradley couldn't help but grin down at her. "Thanks, Nat. I'll go wake him up."

Once he had played another round of musical car seats, Bradley waved as Nat pulled out of his driveway with Noah and a stack of coloring books in tow. Of course the coloring books were ones that you had brought over when you came to babysit or just spend time here, and now Bradley was itching to call you.

Instead he messed around with his coffee maker and brewed a vanilla latte, just the way you liked it. He was still sipping it and thinking about how much he loved the way you looked in his house when another knock jarred him from his thoughts.

He abandoned the coffee on his counter and went to the door once again. "Meredith," he said with no emotion as the tall blonde pushed past him and into his living room.

"Bradley." Her expression was smug as she looked around; it had been years since she was here, and very little had changed. But Bradley did see her eyes catch on some of the artwork you and Noah had made for him which was hanging on the far wall. "Where's Noah?"

"He's not here," Bradley replied, tucking his hands in his pockets.

She turned back to him and glared. She had always been beautiful but haughty. "I don't want to see you. I want to see him."

Bradley didn't waver. "You specifically told me on the phone that you wanted to talk to me in person. So let's talk."

"Fine," she said cooly, dropping down onto his couch. "But next time we set something like this up, I want him here too."

Bradley almost laughed in her face as he sat too. Next time? Over his dead body there would be a next time. Noah didn't know who his birth mother was, and Bradley wanted to keep it that way. Bradley grew up without a dad, but under very different circumstances. Meredith had a track record of being nonexistent, and Bradley didn't want that for his son.

"Where is he?" she asked, sharp eyes on him.

Bradley sighed. "He's being well taken care of, Meredith."

"By your babysitter?" Then she said your first and last name, and Bradley felt a chill wash over his body.

"How do you know her name?" he grunted, clenching and unclenching his fist in his lap.

"It wasn't hard to find out after I got her license plate number. She's a nursing student at the University of San Diego, Bradley. A mere child," she said, shaking her head sadly.

Bradley's heart was pounding. Meredith knew who you were, and she wanted something from him. "Did you scare my babysitter on purpose yesterday?"

Meredith laughed, head tipped back as she placed her hand over her heart. "Are you really going to keep calling her that, Bradley? She's obviously 'babysitting Noah' because you're messing around with her. Your little booty call. And she looks like she is all of eighteen years old."

"She's twenty four. And don't talk about her like that," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "Don't."

Her eyes lit up. "So it is true. I was just making an assumption, going off a hunch. She's cute, so I'm not surprised at all. But I don't think they are going to take too kindly to a father who is busy fucking the babysitter. One who is basically half his age, at that. A father who is distracted. A trashy, young babysitter who is sleeping with someone over a decade older than her."

"Meredith," he growled, trying his hardest to stay calm, but he was seething now.

"And you let that trash around our son, Bradley. A glorified slut, making money and getting laid while she's at it. And that's not even taking into account that you're still in the Navy. You leave Noah with random friends of yours every time you're deployed, none of whom are his legal guardian. None of them can make decisions in an emergency. You lack any and all stability." She was completely calm as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and sighed. "No, they will not like that at all."

"What the fuck are you getting at, Meredith?" And then Bradley noticed for the first time that she brought a fancy looking leather bag with her, out of which she procured a manila folder.

"This should spell everything out nicely for you." She handed it to him, and he opened it and skimmed through a stack of papers. His heart rate grew steadily faster until it was getting hard to breathe. It felt just like the first time he hit 8 G's. He was going to throw up. Bradley could feel the bile rising in his stomach as the panic truly set in. His insides clenched as he looked at her.

"You want custody."

"Full custody, yes. I have a lawyer. A good one."

He closed the folder and tried to hand it back to her, but she pulled her hands away and stood. "You can keep that," she said with a smirk. "I made several copies."

Bradley stood as well, and got in her face. "No judge in this entire state is going to award you custody of Noah. Not after the shit you've pulled."

She shrugged and headed for the door. "Lucky for me, you've pulled your own shit. We'll just have to wait and see who sounds more believable."

His heart was thudding, and his ears were ringing. "You abandoned us, Meredith! You haven't paid a single penny for anything in nearly four years, and Noah doesn't even know who the fuck you are!"

As she turned the knob, she looked back at him and said, "Abandonment is a strong word, and you can't prove anything. And may I suggest you learn to keep your emotions in check? It will be good practice for the courtroom. And you need to keep that girl you're sleeping with away from our son. I won't hesitate to ruin her if I need to. You already forced me to go through her once, Bradley. I'll do it again with no remorse if I have to. Noah is my son. Just because that girl is fucking you, that doesn't give her the same rights I have."

"Do I need to get a restraining order, Meredith?" he called, but she was already walking out to her car with a little wave over her shoulder.

"Not if you want me to allow you to have visitation rights. Oh, and make sure you answer my calls next time, so we can prevent another visit at the park!"

-------------------------------

You were laying on your back porch in the sun, trying to finish reading your assignments for the following week. Every hour or so, your phone went off, but it was never from the only person you wanted to hear from. It was just a bunch of texts from Greyson, begging you to come over. He must be bored. It was probably too early in the day for him to get stoned, and you knew he was too lazy to look for another girl for the night. That was why he was bothering you now.

You squinted and turned your head away from the sunlight and thought about your ruined sunglasses, crunched up in the parking lot next to the playground. Bradley said he was going to call Meredith. You were so embarrassed; you actually ran away from Noah's mom. Surely she wasn't going to hurt either of you. She probably just wanted to see him, even if she did sound like a bitch when Bradley described her. But she was pretty. And probably just the right age for Bradley. Now you had a very clear image in your mind of exactly what he was trying to replicate when he was using the dating app.

You had a gross feeling in your stomach. You hated waiting like this. You were always waiting for everyone else. First you waited for Greyson to contact you whenever he wanted to see you. More recently you'd been waiting for Bradley to let you know where you stood with him.

When you decided you were hungry, you stood and went to your kitchen. You tore open a bag of Skittles as you looked through your refrigerator, but after you ate a handful, you left the rest on the counter and walked away.

When your phone rang late in the afternoon, you answered it as soon as you saw who it was.

"Bradley?" you asked softly, and you were met with a beat of heavy silence that made you want to cry.

"Hi. Any chance you can stop by later? Just for a minute?"

"Yeah," you replied, pacing the length of your small living room before curling up on your couch. "I can do that."

"I'll see you later."

-------------------------------

Nat kept Noah at her place for most of the day while Bradley had a good, old fashioned nervous breakdown. His best friend was good like that, and he didn't even have to give her any details yet. She just knew what to do without any prompting.

Bradley sat in the middle of Noah's bedroom floor and thought about everything he could lose if this didn't work out for him. He had a dresser full of Noah's little clothes behind him, and a closet full of Noah's toys next to him. He paid for everything for his child. And not that Noah was a burden on him in any way, but they never got any help from Meredith, monetarily or otherwise. But he could see how it would be impossible to prove she abandoned the two of them. And it probably didn't help that he never returned her phone calls or let her see him when she begged in the past.

She was a business developer. She made more money than Bradley. But he never went after her for a cent, because he knew he would rather have his son to himself than have to share Noah with someone who didn't really care about him.

So why the fuck did Meredith want to be involved now? It didn't make sense. And Bradley hated that he thought the worst of her at this moment, but he did. He just knew there had to be something he was missing here.

He laid back on the floor and fiddled with his phone, forcing himself to stop from calling you. He rubbed one large hand along his face and let out a sting of curse words. The fact that he wasn't sure if he would be able to protect his own son was making him anxious and scared. But he could protect you. He could save your name from being dragged through the mud. He could prevent you from potentially spending your time in a courtroom, from becoming collateral damage to Bradley's crime of falling for Meredith and getting her pregnant in the first place.

And Bradley knew he had to protect you, because he wasn't worth it. Getting messed up with him was not worth your time and aggravation. He just wished he had pumped the brakes a little harder, told you this was a bad idea and shut it down earlier. He should have never let it get physical. All the flirtation and banter should have been enough for him. He should have taken it for the ego boost that it could have been and moved on, pursued a woman from the dating app and stayed away from you.

It was already too late for him though. Because he knew how you tasted. He knew all the little noises you made when you were underneath him. He knew how good you looked in his clothes. He knew how much Noah loved you. And he fucking knew you loved his kid right back.

And now all of his baggage was coming back to haunt him.

"Fuck!" Bradley shouted. And then he scrolled through his phone until he found Tracy's number. It was a Saturday, and he hated to do this on the weekend, but what choice did he have?

"Hello?"

"Tracy? It's Bradley Bradshaw. I'm not sure if you remember me, and I'm sorry it's Saturday-"

"Bradley. Of course I remember you. And your sweet son. Noah, was it?"

"Yeah," he replied, running his hand over his eyes. He had taken Noah with him last year when Nat urged him to talk to a lawyer about setting up a will. They had also touched on the topic of a custody agreement, which Bradley had firmly told Tracy was something that wasn't necessary at the time.

"What can I do for you?"

"Do you remember our conversation about custody and parental rights for Noah?"

"Yes, I remember."

He sighed deeply. "I think I need to revisit that conversation."

----------------------------

You changed into a cute sundress and packed up the three remaining coloring books and the pack of neon crayons you had for Noah. You added a bag of Skittles to your tote, and then you headed out to your car as tears prickled your eyes.

Your arm hurt a lot more today, and changing the bandages with your left hand had been challenging. You considered taking your first aid kit along with you and asking Bradley for help. But then you decided that getting over there and getting this over with was more important.

He must have spoken to Meredith by now, and while you weren't sure exactly what that meant for you, there was no doubt it wasn't good.

You parked in his driveway alongside his Bronco, and let yourself in the front door. It was late. Noah was probably in bed already. That was probably why Bradley asked you to come now.

"Hi," you whispered. He was sitting in the middle of the couch with his elbows resting on his knees, and he looked impossibly handsome as he glanced up at you.

"Hi," he echoed, his voice deep and raspy. You thought that maybe he wanted to add Princess to that greeting by the way his lips were silently working, but then he snapped his mouth shut.

You wanted to go sit in his lap. It was the only thing that would make you feel better right now, but you knew you shouldn't do it. And as you took a few steps closer to him, he stood, and you could feel the heat from his big body.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly. He leaned a little closer to you, like he wanted to kiss you. His hands were reaching for your hips, but you watched him clench them into fists and drop them to his sides.

"I think I will be," he replied, and you couldn't stand it any longer. You reached for his face, stroking his mustache as his eyes closed. And then you kissed him. And he kissed you back. Right before he took a staggering step away from you.

------------------------------

The only thing Bradley wanted to do was get lost in your kisses and beg for you. He wished he could forget about everything that had happened after he fucked you at your place and left for work yesterday. Pretend Meredith wasn't a threat. But he couldn't keep pretending. That much was made clear when he spoke to his lawyer earlier.

After he stepped away from you, he cleared his throat and said, "We can't do this anymore."

You laughed humorlessly as you ran your fingers along your glossy lips. "Can't do what anymore, Bradley? What exactly have we been doing?"

"Messing around," he replied, keeping his eyes on your face. It was so much more than that though, and he felt like the biggest asshole in the world for trying to make you think he felt any differently. For trying to make you think he didn't care about you. "It was fun, but I need to take things seriously. For myself and for Noah."

You pressed your lips together and looked at the floor. "Did you and Meredith get back together?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

The thought of it made him sick. It made him feel outraged to even think about Meredith at all, let alone romantically. But if that's where your mind went, then so be it.

"We talked about it."

You gasped, but you didn't look at him. "You told me she abandoned you. And you think that would be best for Noah? Best for you?"

"I'm... not sure," he replied, wanting more than anything to collect you in his arms and take care of you. Kiss you. Be with you. But he couldn't protect you and do those things right now. Not after his conversation with Meredith, and especially not after speaking to Tracy. "But sometimes people change."

"You sound unsure," you said, looking up at him hopefully as tears collected in your eyes. "Why won't you give me a good reason? A solid reason?"

Bradley ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath, using his anger to hold back his own tears. "I can give you a whole list of reasons. Is that what you want?" You didn't respond verbally, but the quiver of your lips made him keep going. "You're too young for me. I need a woman more mature than you. Someone who would help me take care of Noah. Someone I could be in a real fifty/fifty relationship with. And not just with Skittles."

You sobbed, and he hated himself. But he kept going.

"You think you want this, but you don't. You're just a kid. You don't know what you want. But I can guarantee that me and all my baggage isn't it."

"I never said you had baggage-"

But he cut you off, shaking his head and saying, "I said it. So it doesn't matter what you did or didn't say. This is not going to work. I don't want this."

You had tears dripping onto your cheeks now as you looked up at him. Your pretty face was scrunched up in sadness or rage. Probably both. Because he was behaving like a dick.

Your shoulders shook while you cried. "Fine. I understand," you said through your tears. "I can't make you want me back."

He felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs, because you were the only thing he wanted right now. He had let himself indulge in his feelings for you, and now he was hurting you on purpose. And it was killing him.

"Can I say goodbye to Noah?" you whispered, swiping at your tears.

Bradley nodded, stumbling behind you as you walked quickly to Noah's room. He stood in the doorway and watched you gently brush Noah's hair away from his forehead as you sobbed. Then you bent to kiss his cheek and whispered, "I love you, Noah."

Bradley couldn't take it. He turned away and walked back to the living room. He broke his own heart, which he could eventually probably handle, because the outcome he wanted was important to him. He could come to terms with keeping you away from him. He knew you'd be better off without him in the long run anyway.

But he hadn't anticipated how much this was going to hurt his son. Maybe he had made a mistake.

When you walked back into the living room with your tote bag on your shoulder, you slapped Bradley's house key against his chest without looking at him. He fumbled and caught it before it dropped, but when he turned toward you, all he saw was the swirl of your dress as the door slammed shut behind you.

Bradley stood with the key in his hand, inhaling the smell of wildflowers as he listened to your car pull out of his driveway.

"Goodbye, Princess."

-----------------------------

Bradley, what did you do?! Hope you enjoy your babysitter fic which you help me write, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 14

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

twstfanblog · 2 months ago

Text

*~Thanks Give Me~* Pt 2

A/N: Second part ready and served! The third part will be posted tomorrow, so look forward to those vignettes XD Word Count: 5.1K Pairings: Barely seen Ruggie/Leona Warnings: Swearing

Prev/Next

The two weeks leading up to the dinner were surprisingly peaceful. Everyone took their tasks seriously, even Leona came to Ramshackle to offer more monetary support a day after the meeting.

(“Just use my card to buy food for the dinner. Seven knows that Ruggie can eat…”

“Oh don't worry, he already gave me your bank info.”

“...”)

It was endlessly entertaining to watch both Sebek and Silver struggle to not spill the beans to an excited Lilia. The retired general hadn't figured anything out as far as they could tell, but he could see their friend group were all prepping for something. It was also hilarious watching Malleus launch his godfather into the stratosphere whenever Sebek nearly told the smaller third-year about the dinner.

Rook had disappeared for nearly a week, only returning with a massive freezer chest and a profound sense of pride a few days before the dinner. Inside said chest was a plucked turkey the size of a small velociraptor. The junior was all too pleased to recount the method of how he got the bird. His eldest sister, Reine, had been eager to let him hunt down a very aggressive tom on her wildlife preserve.

Yuu was just lucky Rook had provided the magically chilled chest and that their oven knew when best to defy the laws of physics.

Cater had been texting them almost nonstop, trying to clear up what his job task of ‘gay cousin’ was even supposed to mean. Yuu would simply respond with winking emojis, much to his displeasure.

Kalim had contacted them the night after the housewarden meeting, sounding pitiful as he promised he was able to complete his task. He simply had no idea what China was. Though he wanted to do a crystal set, it would take time to get so many plates, glasses, and platters all custom carved. Not to mention the short notice.

(“Oh that's right, China isn't a place here…um…It's porcelain dishes…Chang’an?”

“Ooooooooh. Yeah I can get us a really nice Chang’an set! With lots of designs and pretty red flowers! Red is a color I can use right? Or maybe traditional blue? I wonder if I can get a full gold set-”)

Jamil had dropped off the set a few days later, stacks upon stacks of gold-rimmed dishes with center designs of a painted red flower in bloom and deeper red swirls along the edges. Just as they had requested, there were plenty of matching serving platters and pots of varying sizes. The vice warden also asked for Yuu to find something for him to do. While he wasn't tasked with a job, he felt uncomfortable coming to dinner offering nothing.

Yuu told him if he had to do something, he was welcome to help them clean and sort the metric ton of silverware they still needed to look through for the party. A long afternoon task that ended with Jamil lovingly stating she was complete shit at polishing silverware.

More people were invited, both intentionally and surprisingly. Yuu had approached Crewel, Trein, and Sam privately to ask if they'd like to attend the dinner. They of course had their tasks as everyone else did. Trein was pleasantly amused to know his simple task was ‘Grandpa’ and that Lucius was also invited. Crewel didn't respond but he also didn't throw the invite back in Yuu's face hearing his job was ‘Wine Aunt’. Sam could barely hold in his laughter at his assigned task of ‘Cool Weed-smoking Cousin’.

Jack had called them, asking if his younger siblings could attend the dinner. He had contacted his mother to send her recipe for poached pears, leading her to trap him in an hour-long story that ended on her saying the twins' babysitter had canceled at the last minute. After learning the day in question was the same as the dinner, Jack had offered to bring his younger siblings to NRC for the day if allowed.

Yuu quickly agreed, already reworking the dining room to make room for a kid's table. Along with sending a message to Falena about the dinner and how Cheka would be welcome to come. (Leona texting them only a few minutes later with a variety of foul language).

Before they knew it, the day had arrived. Sebek spent the entire day beforehand and slept over, helping in prep and making the long list of foods that Yuu knew to be holiday staples. Waking up at 6am the day of, they both walked back into the kitchen to continue cooking and verbally clawing at each other until others started to arrive.

The Heartslabyul crew all stood on the Ramshackle front porch, dressed in button-downs and a variety of semi-formal wear. Ace messed with his bow tie, raising an eyebrow while Riddle politely knocked on the Ramshackle front door, “So…why are we here dressed up and with two pies?”

Trey spoke, holding his glass container up, “This is banana pudding, not a pie.”

Deuce frowned, glaring at Ace while he lifted his own container in his hands, “And my eggs!”

“I don't even want to know why you have deviled eggs, Juice. What are we doing here?” Huffing, he raised an eyebrow at Cater primping his own semi-formal clothing, “I hate to ask it, but shouldn’t we be in class?”

“For the dinner. Just try to be on decent behavior.” Riddle looked through the side window of the door, concerned at hearing Yuu and Sebek screaming at each other as he knocked again.

“D-Dinner? What dinner? It's 10am!?”

Trey opened the door after no one answered, keeping a firm grip on his container of pudding, “Yuu? Sebek? We're here.”

The clattering and yelling stopped for a moment, the Heartlabyul crew looking confused at the uncharacteristically closed doors of the kitchen. Yuu opened the double doors, a splattered apron over their pajamas, greeting them with a big smile, “Hey guys! Thanks for coming by so early. Trey, Riddle, you guys can put your stuff in the dining room, I’ll be messing with it to make it all pretty later on.”

Deuce spoke up, holding his container up proudly, “I made deviled eggs!”

Yuu laughed, taking the Tupperware from their friend, “Thank you, Deuce. I’ll make sure to put them in a nice dish. Me and Sebek are still cooking everything else so could you guys make sure Grim hasn’t ripped apart the lounge in protest of being told to wait?”

“Of course. I know my task is to call everyone to the meal, but is there a certain time we join to eat?” Riddle questioned, handing his pie to Trey.

“Hmm. My family normally ate around two or three. But if me and Sebek keep up our pace we should be done by noon or one.”

Ace spoke up, looking around in pure bewilderment, “Tasks? You have guys had tasks?”

Yuu hummed, looking Ace up and down in barely concealed annoyance, “Ace, happy to see you’re on task.”

“I had a task!?”

Sebek’s voice called out from the kitchen, anger clear in his tone, “Stop fraternizing and continue with your own task!”

“Sebek, shut the fuck up and focus on the damn potatoes! And I swear to GOD, if you’re not using the goddamn ricer.” Yuu had started to walk back into the kitchen, brushing off Ace’s confused sputtering as she slammed the kitchen doors behind her.

“I don’t need to use the ricer!”

“You don’t need oxygen!”

Ace turned to Cater, raising an eyebrow, “What was my task!? Be confused!?”

Cater was tapping at his phone, texting Idia to remind him he had promised him he would come to the dinner, “Actually, it was you ‘weren’t invited and came anyway’.”

“...What?”

“Be happy, mine was ‘Gay Cousin’...”

“What?”

More knocks come from the front door, Riddle running over to open it. He smiled, “Oh, you made it-”

“Move, Riddle.” Ruggie shouldered his way past the housewarden, already speed-walking into the dining room.

“...” Riddle turned to the other two Savanaclaw members still on the porch, “As I was saying, welcome. The meal isn't ready yet, so we're gathering in the lounge.”

Leona sighed, eyes almost glazing over, “Of course, we gotta wait more…”

Riddle folded his arms, tilting his head, “Isn’t your job to be a couch potato?”

Leona pointed to his front, “I gotta get this thing entertained and fed…”

Gripping onto Leona’s two braids like they were handlebars was Cheka in more formal wear than Riddle had ever seen him. The five-year-old swinging lightly but greeted him in joy, “Hi Mr. Riddle!”

“Hello, Cheka.” Riddle looked to Jack, raising an eyebrow seeing no one else with him, “Jack, were your siblings not coming?”

At that moment Riddle finally took notice of two pairs of tiny hands gripping onto each of Jack’s shoulders. Almost in sync, two coal-colored heads peek from under their brother’s hair, big amber eyes blinking at him. From what he could see, they had the same spikey hair pattern as their brother. Both with wolf ears still slightly too big for their heads, one of them having ear tips that matched with Jack’s grey hair.

Jack held up a glass container, “I brought the dessert Yuu asked for. Is there a place she wants me to put it?”

“Hmm…She said to place our dishes in the dining room, but she also wanted to place Deuce’s deviled eggs in a separate dish.”

Leona finally grabbed Cheka, silently demanding the child let go of his braids to hold him properly, “Where is Feral anyway? Aren’t they supposed to be hosting this dinner?”

Riddle looked to the closed kitchen doors, expression vaguely concerned, “Well-”

“Sebek, you better be basting that turkey the same way Silver basts your face! If that turkey is dry, I will marry your mom!”

…

One of Jack’s siblings pulls themselves up higher on his shoulder, gently tugging on Jack’s ear to whisper to him loudly, “What’s basting?”

Jack shoved the container into Riddle’s hands, speed walking down the hall and away from the kitchen of profanity, “Hey, Yuu has a TV. You guys wanna watch Lara the Explora?” Sighing in relief as the six-year-old twins cheer at the idea of watching their favorite cartoon.

Cheka looked at Leona, opening his mouth to also ask, only to have Leona quickly cut him off as he walked deeper into the house.

“Don't even ask me.”

Trey had luckily been in the dining room and dragged Ruggie out before he could touch a single one of the serving dishes. Each platter remained with their tops on and magically locked to keep warm until opened again. The second-year almost scandalized hearing he needed to wait until everything was done. Dejectedly, after a weirdly intense stare from Trey, Ruggie backed down and joined the others in the lounge. Managing to wedge himself between one of Leona’s knees and the armrest of a three-person. He really took his task of ‘Spreading it’ seriously.

Sam had arrived, passing out little candies to Grim and the children as a way to tie over their appetites. He had only popped in the kitchen for twenty seconds, delivering a block of cheese Yuu had ordered that finally came in, only to rush out like his life depended on it. His only explanation being the kitchen was filled with malicious intent…

The Octavinelle trio had arrived while Sam and Cater were discussing their semi-shared task of ‘Cousin’ and all it entailed. Floyd holding a container close to his chest and keeping a vicious glare leveled at his twin, Jade pouting and glaring right back as he made small lunges. The two feuding eels leaving Azul to bring a chilled chest of drinks up the stairs himself.

Riddle stopped Floyd from entering when he opened the door, pointedly staring at the container in his arms, “What is that? You weren't tasked to bring anything.”

Floyd's scowl turned to Riddle, stepping away from the smaller sophomore and clutching the container even closer to his chest, “Shrimpy had no right saying I can't be trusted. So I made fried chicken.”

“And Jade…?”

Scoffing, Jade walked into the house, casting one last glare over his shoulder before cracking open one of the double doors to the kitchen to peek in.

Snickering, Floyd handed his container over to Riddle to finally help Azul with the container of drinks, “I locked him out of the lounge kitchen this morning. He didn't get to even try anything since I messed all his stupid boxes up last night too.”

“You nearly destroyed my Lulu Lazerus mushroom…If I hadn't managed to get it settled in a new terrarium I would be an only child right now…”

Floyd's only response was to make a face, groaning mockingly while he rolled his eyes and let his tongue hang out.

Jade had just started to ponder the idea of ripping Floyd's tongue out of his mouth when the kitchen doors opened fully. Luckily, Yuu and Sebek weren't yelling anymore but instead speaking to each other in intense tones.

“Suck it the fuck up, Sebek. I'm fucking tired and hungry too. Stop eating all the pineapple slices, those are for the fucking ham!” Yuu smiled at Jade, pointing behind them, “Come on, you can make the mushroom gravy since I suck at cooking them.”

That single prompt had flipped Jade's mood completely. The eel now smiling and already rushing past Yuu and into the kitchen. Their smile turned to Floyd and Azul, raising an eyebrow.

“What you make, Floyd?”

“Fried chicken...” Floyd frowns, putting together just what had happened, “Hey, wait a minute-”

“Yeah, I played you both. Go hang out in the lounge, there are small children in there.”

“Oh? Cool, I love playing with guppies!”

Riddle quickly followed after Floyd rounding back to place the container in Yuu’s hands, already scolding the laughing eel as they made their way to the lounge, “Please don't throw any of the children.”

Azul tapped Yuu on the shoulder, making sure to not get any food on his pressed dress shirt, “There are…children here?”

“Is that a hint of fear I hear, Azul?”

The housewarden sputtered, waving his date-mate's teasing expression away, “I'm not afraid of children. I just didn't bring more child-friendly beverages…”

Yuu opened the chilled chest, frowning as they took stock of the various bottles Azul had brought, “Zulie, I said booze and non-booze…”

“And I have! Must I remind you that the dietary expectations for children here are different from your world?”

They were in all fairness. Most commercial food wasn't as processed as what Yuu was used to. Even the most ‘unhealthy’ junk food was still leagues better than what Yuu would find back in their old world. Food geared toward children had even stricter social guidelines; juices were expected to be whole fruit juice and even blended with vegetables to ensure a well-rounded diet.

Sighing, Yuu tapped their chin, “Yeah…I can fix this. Let me help you get these all set up in the dining room. I gotta call Kalim and hope he and Jamil aren't on their way yet.”

Azul raised an eyebrow, following after Yuu, “I assume we're putting them on a table or people would pour their own drinks?”

“Don't worry, I'll show you where to put everything.”

Azul was surprised to see the chandelier of the dining room was also a drinks dispenser. The bulbs were completely hollow even though they shined with light. He watched from the side as Yuu stood on the table and filled each glass bulb with the multiple drinks Azul had brought. He asked what they had requested from Kalim, seeing how his task was simply making sure they had a dining set.

Yuu remarked they were going to make a punch for the children since everyone would be concerned about the content of the nonalcoholic drinks for the kids.

“It probably won’t taste the same, but It was really good whenever my auntie felt like making it for family get-togethers. I think the kids will like it.”

Luckily, Kalim and Jamil hadn't left Scarabia when Yuu called. Kalim was all too eager to bring more items at Yuu's request; multiple whole fruit juices and a large bottle of lemon-lime soda water made with his unique magic. The Scarabia duo had even brought other gifts as they arrived at the dorm.

Yuu opened the door, smiling as Kalim held up his armful of bottles, “You're a lifesaver, Kalim.”

“It's no problem! I'm glad I could bring something other than just plates. Plus, we ran into Idia and Ortho!” Kalim turns, smiling at the small group still walking up the steps behind him.

Jamil was bringing up the rear, arms folded over his chest as he gave a glare to the back of Idia’s head. The flame-haired third-year shuffling along as he walked up the stairs as slow as he could. Ortho was floating beside him, eyes creased in his joy as he gently tugged on his brother's oversized sweater. Against his will, Idia made it up the steps and stood nearly curled in on himself.

Yuu cooed, reaching over and pinching Idia’s cheek hard, ignoring the flash of red his hair gave, “Look at you! All dressed up like you're fit for the public!”

“And you aren't for some reason. Aren't you hosting?” Jamil raised an eyebrow, looking over his datemate's messy appearance. He grimaces, reaching out to tug at the edge of their apron, “Is this part of it?”

“Well, me and Sebek are gonna get dressed up once the food is all ready. We just gotta put some finishing touches on a few more dishes then wait for everyone else to show up.”

Ortho tilts his head, “Would you like us to take over? You and Sebek should go get dressed so we can all eat as soon as everyone arrives.”

Idia mumbled under his breath, trying to shimmy his way a bit further from the door, “I'd…really rather not be in a hot kitchen…”

Sighing, Yuu stepped to the side to let the group enter the house, “I don’t want you guys to have to take over cooking for us. You’re all dressed so nice, I’d feel bad if you got messy…”

Jamil rolled his eyes, quick hands already untying Yuu’s apron and putting it over his blazer, “I think we can manage. You and Sebek go get washed up. I'm sure you’d love to actually host instead of looking as disheveled as you are and answering the door.”

“...Fine…” Yuu called into the kitchen, telling Sebek they were released from cooking and to go shower. They were barely able to move out of the way as Sebek zoomed out of the kitchen and disappeared up the stairs, his apron only just hitting the counter as his door slammed upstairs.

“...” Yuu turned to Kalim, Jamil and Ortho already in the kitchen, “Can you mix the punch up for me? You’re gonna use all the juice and the soda water for it. Put some sliced oranges in it, it’s for the kiddies.”

Kalim nodded, bumping the kitchen door open with his hip, “Got it!”

“And don’t think I forgot about you tall, dank, and heinous.” Yuu folded their arms, glaring at the back of Idia.

Idia had been inching closer to the front door, hoping he could slip out before being noticed and run back to his room. He groaned, scowling over his shoulder at Yuu, “I’m not even hungry…”

“You’re never hungry. Just sit at the table and hold Cater’s hand or whatever the fuck you do to maintain emotional stability.”

“So long as I can have my tablet at the table…” He rubs his forearm, looking to the ground, “Did you dress Grim up?”

“Yes. He has a new bowtie that he hates so he’s all pouty and grumpy.”

“Aw…cute.”

Cater poked his head out of the lounge hearing Idia’s voice, phone poised in hand before he let out a sigh of relief seeing his boyfriend actually showed up, “OMS, Idia! You look so good, babes. Thank you for showing like you promised~.”

Idia finally let a smile crack, tugging on his collar as the tips of his hair eased into pink, “I mean…you did help me pick out what to wear-MHP!”

The other third-year had sped walked over to his boyfriend, throwing his arms around Idia’s neck before pulling him in to make out with him. The redhead moaned loudly and running his hands through nearly neon-pink flames while pressing their bodies together.

“Cater! For the love of the Design!” Yuu slapped him repeatedly on the shoulder until he finally detached from a dazed Idia, “What the fuck dude!? Don't dry hump your boyfriend in my entryway!?”

“What am I supposed to do as ‘Gay Cousin’!? My boyfriend is here, so I get to be gay and kiss him!”

Rolling her eyes, Yuu groaned and walked up the stairs to finally clean up. Leaving a stunned Idia and an angry Cater, the redhead holding his hands up as to question the higher powers.

“What do I DO!?”

Yuu and Sebek cleaned up well, Sebek feeling much better freshly showered and in the button-up he had spent an hour last night ironing. Yuu kept simple, the new designer jeans Crewel had flung at her after seeing her trying to sew in another patch on the thigh of her old jeans. A sweater Yuu had stolen from Vil’s closet, the third-year feeling something was missing from his wardrobe, but unable to figure out what was gone.

So she could feel nothing but smug when she opened the door, smiling at the well-dressed group of the Pomfiore trio on their porch, “Eyebrows.”

Vil raised a single perfectly sculpted eyebrow, already connecting the dots on where his missing top had gone. He tapped a perfectly manicured nail against the lid of his container, “Onion.”

“I see, you not only managed to get Epel de-mudded but you finished your salad on time.”

With a smile that seemed almost mocking, Vil opened his container to show the multicolored pasta inside, “I made a pasta salad.”

Yuu looked at the dish, her smile almost frozen on her face before she took in a deep breath through her nose. She reaches out, nails raking down the sides of the ceramic bowl as they slowly pull it out of Vil’s hands, “I should…beat you to death for your audacity. But this honestly, looks delightful and I think you actually seasoned it.”

Epel spoke up from beside Vil, giving his housewarden a judgemental look, “He had me season it.”

“Hush, Epel.”

Rook tilted his head, smiling brightly, “I hope we are not too fashionably late. It’d do no good for us to miss such festivities with our dear classmates.”

Yuu ushered them in, “Not too late. Most everyone is here, but you also aren’t the last to arrive.”

Vil smiled as he triple-checked his makeup and outfit in the gold mirror on the wall, “Perfect.”

Epel perked up, holding out his own dish, “Oh, yeah. Here’s the tenderloin you wanted me to make. I never thought pork and apples would work together. How’d you know?”

Yuu partly wanted to point out to Epel that he was potentially blessed. Any food he made with apples was almost otherworldly good, a trait they learned Epel shared with his grandma, “Something from my world. Come on, we’ll get your dishes settled on the table.”

Rook closed the door behind their group, eyes glancing over to the kitchen doors, “May, I see the efforts of my hunt? I wish to see the golden beauty that was once my quarry.”

“I don’t care if you’re hungry, no one eats yet.”

After sending the Pomfiore trio to the lounge, they almost slipped back into the kitchen to touch base with Ortho and Jamil, only to hear the door being flung open to slam against the wall. Turning around they smiled seeing the familiar black and white fur coat. Crewel was already walking through the entryway, designer shades taking over half his face with a large gold-foiled wine bottle gripped in one hand.

“Papa dog! Thank you for coming, you didn't need to bring us more wine-”

Crewel didn't stop walking, managing to brush past Yuu completely with a pat to their head, “No, this is for me, puppy. No touchy.”

“Yep, that tracks…” Yuu had nearly closed the door only to see Trein coming up the stairs too, Lucius tucked securely in his arms, “Grandpa! You made it!”

They hug briefly, Trein sighing and allowing Lucius to jump from his arms to trot into the house. He was in a different robe, vaguely familiar to his normal attire but clearly of higher quality and with a more elaborate brooch, “It feels odd to cancel classes for a ‘dinner’. And on a Thursday at that…”

“Hm…yeah. We technically have a Thanksgiving break in my world. It’s basically just an extended weekend though.”

“That makes sense. While your studies are important, maybe this little break will do you children some good. Here’s hoping that Crewel doesn’t use this as an excuse to overdrink again.”

“Oh, he came in with a bottle of wine.”

“Of course he did…”

Yuu was ready to text Lilia just to ask if he and his boys were on their way, secret be damned. Though a part of her realized she should of expected them to be the latest party of everyone. Malleus was so timeblind that he was potentially going to miss the heat death of the universe then pout about it. Silver can’t always fight against his compulsion to sleep and Lilia isn’t supposed to fucking know about the dinner anyway.

So when Yuu heard the door knocking with a refined yet urgent feeling, she flung Cheka out of her lap (Directly into Leona’s stomach) and raced toward the front door.

Swinging it open, she smiled at the nicely dressed trio before her, “There’s my bread delivery!”

Silver smiled, holding up the large wicker basket full to the brim with artisan bread rolls, “They should still be warm, but a bit longer in the oven shouldn’t burn them.”

Lilia looked between them all, taking note of Yuu’s semi-fancy attire before gasping. He pouted, glaring at each of his sons “Is this a dinner party!? I knew you boys were hiding something from me, but for it to be a meal among friends? I could have made something!”

Yuu watched as Silver and Malleus both gave an identical shudder at the same time.

Malleus places a hand on Lilia’s shoulder, letting the older fae jerk himself away, “You weren’t tasked with cooking. But, if you wish to have been involved, you were.”

Silver perks up, handing the bread to Yuu and finally stepping into the house as a group, “That’s right, father. You helped make the bread. I can’t shape dough nearly as well as you can. You helped greatly.”

“Surely the meal will be elevated from your lavish buns.”

Lilia pouted, arms now crossed. He wasn’t dull, he knew his children were simply trying to pacify his soured mood. It didn’t help they had kept such a secret from him. Then again…

Chuckling, Lilia places his hands on his hips as he let go of his annoyance, “Well, I have to admit, I am looking forward to the meal. Is it just us or will others be joining?”

Yuu smiled, sharing a kiss with Malleus, the horned fae already beaming at himself for completing his task. Looking to Lilia, Yuu nodded her head to the lounge down the hall, “You guys are actually the last group. Go wait in the lounge for a bit, me and Jamil will get the last touches of dinner done.”

While Malleus wasn’t too keen to leave, he allowed Lilia to tug him down the hall and into the lounge. The sound of Sebek shouting in joy at finally seeing his dorm family again, already talking their ears off on how much he had done to help insure the success of the meal.

Yuu leaned their head into the lounge, locking eyes with Riddle and nodding. The housewarden perked up, standing from his seat and bringing his fingers to his lips to let out a piercing whistle.

Once he had everyone’s attention, he nodded and made motions to leave the room, “It’s time for the meal. Let’s all make our way to the dining room.”

The Ramshackle dining room was possibly the most elegant room of the house, which wasn’t hard, but it counted. The dark wood-paneled walls were lit softly by the warm lights of the chandelier. The long table was decorated by deep red placemats, crystal glasses, stark white plates, and matching serving platters filled to the brim with food. Tucked to the far wall, resting under a large landscape painting, was a much smaller table with five placemats.

Yuu smiled, gesturing to the small table, “Niblings, that’s your table. Everyone else, I actually have nametags so you guys are assigned seats.” Their smile quickly fell, reaching out and gripping Ruggie by the back of his suspenders and yanked him back from the table, “Not yet.”

Ruggie groaned loudly, glaring at Yuu, “What now!? This is my dinner isn’t it!?”

“No, you wanted a Thanksgiving dinner. So we’re doing a Thanksgiving dinner, all the annoying shit involved. Now, we’re going to stand around the table, hold hands, and say a prayer.”

Ace raised an eyebrow, “What, like a cult?”

Crewel pulled a face, begrudgingly holding onto Trein’s hand, “Why are we praying?”

Yuu grips Deuce’s hand, pointing a finger at everyone, “Don’t question me, this is just how my family always did it. Ruggie, you wanted this, you do it.”

“I-Do what?”

“The prayer, Ruggie. Say a few words about what you’re thankful for or like…praise god or whatever. Now everyone, hold each other’s hands and bow your heads until the prayer is done.”

“Ok, so this is cult behavior-”

“Bow your heads!”

Everyone bowed their heads, a few shooting Ruggie questioning glances before looking back to the floor or closing their eyes.

Ruggie stood in silence for a few seconds. Looking around the room before taking a breath and bowing his head as well, “Um…Hi? This is weird and I really don’t want to do this is public. But…Thank you…for the meals I’ve had, the meal I’m having, and the meals I’ll have…” He smiles softly, the grip he had on Leona’s hand tightening only a touch, “And for the people I share them with. Bless.”

Yuu holds their head up, staring at Ruggie in surprise, “Ruggie, holy shit, that was actually lovely.”

“Can we eat now?”

“Oh my God-Yeah.”

Everyone took a seat, Yuu further explained that whoever had a child sitting at the kids' table was allowed to make their and the child’s plate first. Ruggie being the only one who didn’t fit into that group who was allowed to pile his plate as much as he wanted before everyone else.

Prev/Next

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #yuu oc #twst heartslabyul #twst savanaclaw #twst octavinelle #twst scarabia #twst pomefiore #twst ignihyde #twst diasomnia

63 notes · View notes

the-lonelybarricade · 1 month ago

Text

Rain Check? - Feysand Oneshot

Summary: 5 times Rhysand didn't take his shot, and the one time Feyre took too many

@carrieeve It's me! Hi! I'm your santa, it's me!

For the @acotargiftexchange, you told me you'd like an AU oneshot that was Feysand focused with a friends to lovers plot - I deliberated a long time over how best to bring that vision to life, and then after some light blog stalking, I saw that you're a fan of Jim/Pam from the Office! I started binging the show for research purproses, and a Feysand office romance was born! 🥰

I really hope you enjoy it! It's been such a joy quietly stalking your blog for these last many months, and I look forward getting to know you even more now that our identities are revealed! 💕

Words: 12k

Read on AO3

The first time Rhysand saw Feyre, he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

Only problem—so did every other man in the office. And they didn't exactly disguise their interest in the young, cute receptionist working on the fifth floor of their London skyrise.

After being propositioned by just about every single man in the office, including the ones who fell alarmingly outside her age range—a category which Rhys wasn't confident he was excluded from—he thought the last thing she needed on her first day was another colleague making a pass at her.

He offered a polite hello and welcome, but he intentionally waited until she survived her first week to strike up any further conversation. The chance opened for him when she walked into the break room at the precise moment he was filling up the kettle.

"Hey," he said, tipping the spout to gesture his hello. "Fancy a tea?"

"Oh." She glanced at the kettle, her bow-shaped lips popping open in what he could only assume was surprise. As if she'd walked into the break room expecting anything other than an electric kettle and a pod coffee machine. "I… didn't bring a mug."

"Well, Feyre, I'm not sure how they treated you at your last place, but here, corporate spoils us rotten with communal company branded mugs." Setting the kettle down on the base, Rhys flipped the overhead cabinet open, gesturing to its contents as if he'd unveiled a trove.

The dramatic flair earned him a polite laugh. It was cute, if a little forced. And he craved the chance to learn what her laugh sounded like when it wasn't given out of pity.

He gestured to the middle shelf, which deviated from the monotony of blue logo mugs. "If you do end up bringing a mug in, this is where you can keep it. Though I'll warn you, conversation gets stale here and that almost ensures you'll be asked for its backstory. I recommend bringing in something interesting, unless you want to end up like poor old Drakon."

"What happened to Drakon?"

Rhys gave a hearty sigh as he withdrew two mugs from the cupboard, shaking his head as he said, with the utmost solemnity, "He's known as the guy with a boring mug."

Her lips twitched. He thought that was a genuine smile she might have been fighting.

"If all I'm known for is having a boring mug, I think that's fine by me."

"Oh, believe me, you are far from the danger of that fate, Feyre darling—" the endearment slipped out before he could think better of it. He winced inwardly, trying to monitor her reaction in his periphery. Her brows lifted, and he continued on, hoping he could recover through the theatrics of setting the mugs in front of her, proclaiming proudly, "Because I'm gracious enough to let you use one of mine. Go on, take your pick."

The distraction paid off. Slip-up now forgotten, or so he hoped, Feyre leaned forward to read the print.

Then snorted. "This says Office Wanker."

He grinned. "That was my secret santa gift from last year."

Feyre lifted the other mug by its rather phallic shaped handle. The ceramic was dark green, with small white spikes pinched throughout to mimic a cactus. Feyre grinned as she read the white print on its side: Don't be a Prick.

"I'm sensing a theme."

"That was another gift." Rhys pitched his voice low. "Do you think they're trying to tell me something?"

"I think…" she bit her lip, her eyes gleaming with a mischief that told him she was purposefully building anticipation. "They might be mugging you off."

"That couldn't be it," he said, knowing his deadpan delivery was ruined. He could feel the stupid grin already plastered over his face and he couldn't help it. "My mother is adamant that I'm a delight. She says everyone likes me."

"I'm sure she's right," she whispered, with just the right amounts of sympathy and derision that Rhysand might have fallen in love with her right then and there.

He nodded to the two choices on the counter. "So which mug are you going with?"

"Oh—dear. Hmm. They're both such strong contenders." Feyre lifted the mugs, tilting and examining each with exaggerated scrutiny. Then she shoved the one with the phallic cactus towards him. "I think Prick fits you better. I'll go with Wanker."

"That's quite the statement to make in your second week," he said, eyes locking with hers as he accepted the mug, their fingers brushing just briefly enough to pass as accidental.

Pride warmed his chest when he noticed her cheeks turn the softest shade of pink. It was a similar shade to her lips, he thought. Which was a mistake, because he immediately needed to fight the temptation to stare at her mouth.

"Well," she said, withdrawing her hand, the movement a little stiff. A little uncertain. "At least I won't be known as a girl with a boring mug."

"That you most certainly will not," he purred.

The kettle clicked, steam billowing from its spout, and he was privately grateful for the excuse to pull his attention away lest he do—or more likely say—something stupid and inappropriate.

The entire office was flirting with her. If he escalated this beyond anything other than playful, inane small talk, she would think he was just another jerk trying his luck on the new girl. And really, isn't that exactly what he was?

Rhys lifted the kettle in offering. "So," he said. "Did you want tea?"

"Oh," she repeated. He would have teased her for it, this copy and paste exchange. Why did it keep surprising her that they were in the break room for tea? "No," she said finally, pointing toward the coffee machine. "I'm more of a coffee drinker."

"Ah," he said, pouring the water into his mug and tried to keep his cool as steam crowded his face. This whole time, he thought she was waiting for the kettle to boil. She could have been in and out of there in a minute if she just put the damn pod in.

But she lingered, watching him stir in sugar—which wasn't how he preferred his tea, but it offered an excuse for him to stay in the break room just a little longer.

"Do you—" he cleared his throat— "Do you know how to use the machine?"

"Yeah," Feyre said, waving the offer away. "I've got one like it at home."

"Ah, good."

He set his teaspoon in the sink, not in any rush to leave but faltering for a reason to stay.

If he could go back and do anything differently, Rhys would have chosen that moment to ask her out. Just for a coffee, to get to know each other. To explore what was already an obvious chemistry.

Instead he pinched the handle of his mug and nodded. "See you around then, Office Wanker."

Feyre waved. "Bye, Prick."

The bi-weekly sales team meeting was the bane of Rhysand's existence.

While he was being forced to sit and listen to Tamlin Spring stroke his own ego in front of the executives, Rhys knew his unattended inbox and phone line was being inundated with client inquiries that would prove a much better investment of his and the company's time.

Instead, he was trapped in an hour-long posturing session where each member of the team needed to prove to corporate that they were making enough money to justify their payslip. Something which Tamlin had been struggling with this month, though he was giving quite the performance about the value he had in the pipeline with his "nurturing prospects".

The door clicked open, and every head in the room swiveled towards the interruption.

Feyre stood there, one arm propping open the door, the other fidgeting with a sticky note. "Sorry to interrupt," she said with a wince. "I just have a note for Mr. Night. One of his clients is on line 6."

She waited until one of the executives gave her a nod of approval before scurrying to Rhys, her head ducked down. She didn't linger, pressing the sticky note into his hands, then disappearing as quickly as she'd come. He clenched his jaw when he noticed the trail of eyes that followed her.

Tamlin's gaze, in particular, dipped beneath her skirt-line, then back up. Twice. He shared a lazy grin to his left, not even trying to hide what he'd been doing. Worse, reveling in it.

"I should take this," Rhys said tightly, staring at the note in Feyre's hasty scrawl.

Office wanker,

Hope you're prepared to pay up.

"It's from my contact at Hybern," Rhys explained to the room. "I'm on the verge of closing this deal."

The executive gave Rhys a stiff nod of approval. Hybern had been a prospecting account for upwards of a year, until Rhys had taken over the lead two months ago. It was a big account, one he knew the execs were antsy to close.

Rhys had been waiting for Tamlin to finish fumbling his update to announce Hybern officially signed this morning. The choice had been purely strategic, an attempt to highlight the contrast between their performances after Tamlin tried to undermine him in the last meeting. And, admitedly, he'd been looking forward to the gratification of seeing Tamlin flounder in front of the execs he was trying so hard to brown-nose.

This was far more gratifying, though.

Rhys strolled out of the confrence room and returned to his seat, where he promptly picked up his desk phone and dialed line 6.

"Rhysand speaking."

"You thought I wouldn't do it," Feyre said in sing-song triumph. "You really thought I'd be too scared to do my job because of a bunch of serious old men in suits?"

Rhys blew out a stung breath. "Ouch, Feyre. Old?"

"Sorry, what was that? I can't hear you over your creaking bones."

"I didn't take you as a sore winner," he said, grinning.

"Doesn't matter what you took me as, because you know where you'll be taking me now? To lunch. And I'll be ordering something expensive."

He hoped she would. "Order whatever you want. A deal's a deal."

"Oh, I'm getting a side and a dessert."

"Better yet, why don't I take you to dinner? You can have the full course and drinks."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. One that prompted him to glance towards her reception desk, where he could see her pink lips part open. Her head swiveled towards him, brows merging to assess his meaning.

"Are you asking me on a date?"

"We're celebrating," he said, evading the question. "I closed the deal with Hybern, you won our wager. Let's get drinks."

"Okay," she said. Her smile was shy. "Let's go to dinner."

"Tonight?"

She hesitated. "I… have nothing to wear."

"Blimey, Feyre. I didn't realize you'd come to work nude. A bit bold, don't you think?"

"Shut up," she said, giving an exaggerated eye roll to be sure he could see it across the room.

It was, perhaps, with too much severity that he rushed to add, "You look perfect."

The admission hung a second too long. Rhys cleared his throat before she could mull over the gravity with which he said it—meant it.

"Anyway, we'll leave together after work, yeah? I know just the place."

Feyre bit her lip. It wasn't the immediate agreement he was hoping for, but the pink flush rising over her cheeks was an encouraging sign.

"Okay," she whispered. "I'll wait by the lift."

"Don't want them to see us leaving together?" He teased.

"Are you kidding?" She sounded horrified. "If they see us leave together, tomorrow there will be rumors that we're shagging."

"In rumor only?"

"See how well dinner goes first, Prick."

"That's not a no," he crooned, to which Feyre slammed the phone back onto the receiver.

He couldn't keep the dumb grin off his face, even once the sales team got out of their meetings and Tamlin plunked into the seat beside Rhys.

Tamlin scowled. "What are you so happy about?"

His voice was sour, even for Tamlin. Rhys figured the meeting must have gone south after he left. Ass kissing could only go so far when there's no money to be shown for it.

"I closed the deal with Hybern," Rhys said, deciding to capitalize on what was shaping up to be a superb day by rubbing it in Tamlin's face just a little bit. "Sending it through for approval right…" Click. "Now."

"Congrats," Tamlin muttered, mustering as minimal enthusiasm into the word as possible.

Rhys would have felt bad for the guy. When Tamlin first joined, Rhys had tried to take him under his wing, taking him on sales calls and feeding him solid leads that just needed a bit of nurturing. He'd thought they were something like friends until he'd caught Tam trying to poach his clients six months ago. When Rhys asked him to back off, Tamlin had gotten upper management involved, and things had gotten messy.

Since then, their relationship had regressed into this—Tamlin slumping back in his chair, frowning at his screen as Rhysand's closed deal started making the rounds in their sales channels.

The door to the CRO's office snicked open. "Hey, Rhysand. Can we talk?"

"Of course. I'll join you in a moment."

As Rhys slid out of his chair, he couldn't resist sneaking a glance towards Feyre. He was just doing his job at the end of the day, but he was good at it, and some juvenile part of his brain wanted her to notice.

Their eyes met. It always zapped through him, the sight of those bright eyes, like dragging his feet on carpet and touching something metal.

Feyre ducked her head, smiling shyly at her computer.

When he turned back, he saw Tamlin staring at him. Hard.

"What?" Rhys asked, straightening.

"The quirky little receptionist?" He snorted. "I didn't realize that was your type."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Tamlin shrugged. "I'm only trying to warn you. I hear she's fucked half this office."

Rhys slid his hands into his pockets, obscuring the fingers he curled into fists. He shouldn't let Tamlin rile him. He knew it was untrue, and even if it was, he wouldn't care. But Feyre would be upset if she knew that's what people were saying about her.

"Watch your mouth," Rhys said. "This is a workplace, not a locker room."

"Could've fooled me. I thought it was brothel when I first walked in."

Tamlin's head turned deliberately to Feyre, who's desk was positioned directly in front of the entrance. She was leaning over now, scribbling a note on her desk. At the angle, the cut of her top sloped low enough to show the tops of her breasts. The observation felt like stepping into Tamlin's mind, seeing Feyre the way he saw Feyre.

It was truly a shock to the system to feel repulsed by a sight of breasts—by Feyre's no less, which were magnificent in any other context. Rhys felted trapped between defending her, which would only validate Tamlin's suspicions and make her more of a target, or to let it slide and hope the bastard moved on.

"Each to their own, I suppose," Rhys said, brushing past Tamlin's desk. He slipped a hand out of his pocket to thrum his finger across the wood. "Hey—think they'll give me that promotion for the Hybern deal?"

The deflection worked. Like dangling car keys in front of a toddler, Tamlin's focus shifted back to the CRO's office.

He sneered. "Let me get back to work, Rhysand."

"Right. Right. That Adriata account, huh? Heard it's not going to well."

"Fuck off."

"So touchy," Rhys said, clicking his tongue. "I'm just trying to help. Maybe I'll give you some tips after my meeting."

Tamlin made a low grunt in the back of his throat, a sign that he was retreating into what Rhys and Feyre had dubbed 'beast mode'. Rhys actually preferred it when Tamlin was in beast mode. It meant kept his mouth shut and communicated through nods and grunts until his temper subsided—which, Rhys would argue, was much more effective communication than when his colleague attempted to use words.

It was a shame those sacred moments of Tamlin's silence would be wasted in the CRO's office. Rhys wasn't sure what to expect as he pushed the door open and poked his head inside.

"Come in," the CRO said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. "I heard you closed the deal with Hybern. Many congratulations—I know that was hard won."

"They made me work for it," Rhys acknowledged, lowering onto the alabaster seat. "But I knew we'd close them in the end."

The CRO nodded. "You did good work."

"Thank you," Rhys said, bracing himself for the pitch. He knew he wasn't called in here for a congrats.

"You're a strong salesman," the CRO continued. "You have excellent people skills, and you're good at getting clients on your side."

Rhysand's brows rose. He didn't think he'd ever heard this much praise come from upper management before. He was still waiting for the catch.

"The deal with Adriata has fallen through," the CRO went on. That was corporate speak for: Tamlin wet the bed.

"That's a shame," Rhys said mildly. It wasn't his deal, and he wasn't exactly heartbroken to hear Tamlin fumbled a big sale.

"I know you have a contact there—Tarquin. You used to work with each other at your previous role. Do you think you could leverage that to recover the sale?"

Rhys paused. Adriata was one of the leads he'd fed to Tamlin through that acquaintance. He could have taken the deal himself, but he thought the new guy could use an easy win. It shouldn't have taken this long—nearly a year—to close the deal and it certainly shouldn't have fallen through.

"Adriata is Tamlin's client," Rhys said slowly. "If I helped close the sale…"

"You'd get the commission," the CRO said, hearing the question that went unspoken. "And the account will be yours. I just want this closed before fiscal."

In other words, before Monday.

Rhys glanced at the digital clock on the CRO's desk, calculating the time difference in his head. "Tarquin's based in L.A. Latest I can get him on a call is five."

"If you stay late and get this done, you can take Monday off."

It wasn't Monday he cared about. It was the date he envisioned with the pretty blue-eyed receptionist. He thought he would finally have the chance to take her somewhere nice and give this chemistry between them a solid chance.

Rhys bit the inside of his cheek. Feyre would understand, wouldn't she? With the commission he'd get from Hybern and Adriata, he could take her somewhere even nicer. Hell, he could take her out of London. Fly to Paris for the weekend. Amsterdam. Art museums. Anywhere she wanted.

"Okay," Rhys said, nodding. "I'll see what I can do."

After that, he returned to his desk. Tamlin was still in beast mode, ignoring Rhysand's existence and probably nursing his ego about the ruined Adriata deal. It offered Rhys the privacy to slip a sticky note from his desk and pass it to reception on the way to the break room.

Have to stay late tonight. Rain check on dinner?

The following Monday, Rhys took the day off.

And later that morning, he was waiting to meet his family for breakfast when he received a call from the police.

His mother, father, and younger sister had all died in a car accident on their way to meet him.

Rhys took the rest of the week off.

It was the day of the funeral.

He was sitting on a bench, staring absently at a flock of ducks wading through The Serpentine at Hyde Park.

He'd just gotten back to London and couldn't bear the thought of going home. So he'd come here, though it was a miserable, foggy day and he could feel the cold burning his nose, cheeks, and ears.

In some ways, the cold felt grounding. This pain was real. Fixable. So much easier to process than the intangible grief he was drowning in.

"Here I thought I was the only person in London mad enough to be out on a day like this."

It was just his luck to run into Feyre on today of all days.

Rhys knew he looked a mess. He wasn't trying to hide it. And he knew it was inevitable she would see him in his grief. Their company only offered five days of bereavement, after all. He'd be back at work on Monday, and he didn't anticipate being any less of mess than he was now.

When she appeared before him, hands settled on her hips, he wondered if this was how it felt to see a mirage in the desert. To glimpse salvation and know it was impossible to reach.

In the dull grey backdrop of English winter, she was a smear of vibrant color. She was wearing a sky-blue overcoat, buttoned over a cream turtleneck and brown suede trousers. Her cheeks and nose were frostbitten, like his own, and it made him feel strangely envious of the cold.

"You look like you're freezing."

Unlike Feyre, bundled in her coat and scarf and mittens, he wasn't dressed for the weather. He was wearing a black suit and tie, and though he'd brought an overcoat with him to the funeral, he was fairly certain he'd left it at the wake.

"I'm fine," he said.

A blatant lie. Usually he was better at those.

"Here." Feyre began unwinding her red knit scarf.

"No." Rhys held up his hands to stop her. "Really, Feyre, I'm—"

Dodging his weak attempts to deter her, Feyre unraveled her scarf and wasted no time hooking it around Rhysand's neck. The scent of lilac and pear coiled around him, constricting like the vise of a serpent.

"Keep it," she said. "It didn't really match this outfit anyway."

"I'm not sure it matches mine," he said, glancing down at the shock of red against his black suit.

"I don't know." Feyre leaned back to admire his outfit with a level of interest that had Rhys reconsidering his whole wardrobe. "I think you look nice with a bit of color."

"It's warm," he granted, pressing his palm to the soft fabric. The heat of her body was still there, though leeching by the second. "Thank you for lending it to me."

"Keep it," she said, taking the seat next to him. "Like I said, it looks good on you."

He could see what she was doing. She even raised her brows, practically taunting him for a response. Something like Clothes tend to look better off me, or it looked better on you.

The mask was in reaching distance. He knew the script. He just didn't have the energy to don the part.

Feyre tried to keep the concern off her face. The only problem was, he'd spent the better part of a year trying to learn how to read her. He knew her tells, and if he didn't, he could still see the crease of concern forming between her brows.

"Where have you been?" She asked, trying to sound casual. "The rumors are crazy, you know. You close the two biggest sales of the year on the same day and then disappear for a week."

Rhys offered her his best imitation of a grin. "Is that your way of saying you were worried about me?"

"You know as a receptionist, it's part of my duty to know all the latest office gossip."

"No gossip here, Feyre." He shrugged. "Just taking some time off."

Feyre frowned. Her voice was soft and devastatingly gentle as she said, "Rhys. It looks like you just came from a funeral."

"Didn't know them that well."

It wasn't that he didn't want her to know. It was that Feyre was one of his last shreds of brightness and he wanted to keep her firmly compartmentalized from this grief.

If he told her, she would worry for him. Every exchange in the office would be weighted. Different. He couldn't stand the thought of her holding him like shattered glass, the way everyone else in his life was doing.

And, most of all, he couldn't stand the thought of burdening her.

"I'm sorry," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. Her fingers dug into the fabric, as if trying to instill the depth of her conviction. "Even if you hardly knew them, I'm sorry if today was difficult for you."

"Difficult?" He said, the word strained. "No day where I get to see you is difficult, Feyre."

"Do you want to get a drink? You still owe me lunch, remember?"

Rhys pressed his hand over hers, squeezing tighter than he should. But in that moment, it felt like she was all he had to hold on to.

"Not today," he said. His eyes stung and he knew it wasn't from the cold. "Rain check?"

Feyre nodded. "Rain check."

Rhys went back to the office the following Monday.

Things returned to normal. Almost.

The equilibrium of his life had shifted, and normal looked a bit different. Less like living, and more like survival.

He didn't go up to the receptionist counter like he used to, armed with a hundred excuses just to talk to Feyre. He made his own copies. He scheduled his own appointments. He stopped playing mental games with Tamlin.

He just… stopped.

And everything else kept going.

That was the most overwhelming part. The constant, distinct sensation that he was being left behind because he didn't know how to keep up.

Feyre found new people to talk to in the office. Tamlin made different enemies. Corporate started taking an interest in other high performers. He felt like a shadow, an apparition haunting his own mundane life. And he only woke up once they were already burying him.

That was how it felt, anyway, when the news broke the office. Like handfuls of dirt tossed on top of his lifeless body.

Feyre and Tamlin are engaged.

He couldn't breathe. The weight was too much to claw through. Engaged? He didn't even know they'd been dating.

"I hear congratulations are in order," Rhys said to her in passing later that day.

"Oh." Feyre cheeks turned the same red as the scarf he kept in his bedside drawer. He supposed it was inappropriate to keep hold of it now. "Thank you."

"How long have you two been…?"

He was too much of a coward to even finish the question.

Feyre managed to fill in the rest, though. "About four months."

That was all? Christ, he could have been married to her four times over by now. If he'd been brave enough to ask her out on that first day.

But he sensed the way she braced herself for his response, and guessed people hadn't been holding back commentary about their hastiness to get down the aisle.

"Sometimes when you know, you know," Rhys said, reserving his own less-than-complimentary thoughts.

He could think of only one reason Tamlin was in such a rush, and the suspicion was too ego-centric to lend any merit to.

Feyre was a treasure. Anyone with eyes could see that. Even Tamlin.

When Feyre gave him one of her forced smiles, he felt it like another clump of dirt landing on his chest. There were many ways he'd describe his relationship with Feyre, but something it had never been was forced.

He'd hurt her, he realized. When he withdrew into his grief without explaining himself. He should have told her what was going on.

And now he'd lost her.

Rhys thrummed his fingers on the countertop. "Well, I should let you go back to work."

Feyre's solemn nod was the eulogy that finally sent him sputtering, wondering what on earth he was doing buried in this hole.

Tamlin was obnoxious, sure, but at least he was alive.

Maybe it was time to move on. Not just from his grief, but from Feyre, too. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd tried going on a date.

Not since she first started here.

With a heavy sigh, Rhys pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to his cousin.

Rhys: Drinks tonight? x

Mor: I already made plans with a friend. Unless you want to join us??? 👀 xxx

Rhys considered. He snuck a glance at Feyre, catching her in the act of tucking her unruly hair behind her ear.

The sight of her struck him like a punch in the gut.

Rhys: Is she single? x

Mor: I thought you'd never ask 😌 x

It was his first night out in… god knew how long.

He hadn't left his house much in the last few months, and truthfully it had felt good to fall back into the routine of caring about his appearance. Taking a shower, shaving, picking a nice cologne, styling his hair so it wasn't just a sad mop of curls.

He felt… good wasn't quite the right word. He wasn't there yet. But his head felt clearer, and the air felt crisp, and he didn't feel like he was on the verge of suffocating in his own dread.

It was progress.

"Rhys!"

He barely had time to turn before his cousin vaulted into his chest, knocking him back a few steps from the sheer force of her hug.

"You look good!" Mor pulled back, her eyes brighter than the last time they'd met. He could see her relief in them. "Really."

"You do, too."

"You have no idea how many times I nearly sent Az and Cass on a kidnapping mission." She slapped his shoulder lightly in admonishment. "We've been worried sick!"

"I've just been busy," he said, knowing it was a lame excuse but lacking any other armor. "I'm sorry."

Mor sniffed. "You'll only be forgiven if you buy me and my friend a drink."

Rhys scanned the crowd. "Is she here?"

"Yeah. She just went to the bathroom. Asked me to order her a G&T."

"Coming up," Rhys said. "Go find us some seats."

"I haven't told you what I want," Mor pointed out.

"House red. Biggest glass they have."

She grinned, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "I missed you—"

"No touching the hair," he said, batting her hand away. "Seats. Now."

"Okay, bossy."

Rhys rolled his eyes, but there was a smile twitching the corner of his lips. It was nice. The normalcy of bickering with Mor.

It was a busy night, despite being a weekday, so it took a while for the bar to make their drinks. Longer still, for Rhys to take up the precarious task of balancing all three drinks in his hands as he searched for the table.

He caught a flash blonde hair poking over the seat of a leather booth and grinned. There was another girl sitting beside Mor, a brunette, both of their backs turned as he rounded the corner.

And nearly dropped the glasses on the floor.

Bright blue eyes stared at him, wide and achingly familiar. Her mouth parted open into a gasp.

"Rhys?"

He was equally dumbfounded. "Feyre?"

Mor said her friend was single. It shouldn't have been the first thought to bubble up through his shock. But it was.

"How do you two know each other?" Mor said, the question nearly accusational.

"We work together," Rhys said, recovering enough to set the drinks on the table.

Mor's eyes widened. "Oh my god," she said, whipping her head to gape at Feyre, who was dropping her head into her hands. "Oh my god, Feyre!"

"Is something the matter?" Rhys asked, unable to pry his eyes away from the red stain burning along the dainty curve of Feyre's ears. She kept her hands over the rest of her face, but he could see peeks of blushing skin through the gaps in her fingers. How was it possible that she was the one mortified about this?

He could see the mischief spreading over Mor's face, and it made him nervous. "Oh," his cousin said, drawing out the vowel as she plucked her wine glass from the table. "It's just that Feyre darling here has told me all about the people she works with in her office. Neglected to mention names, of course, but I'm starting to put two and two together."

Feyre darling. Smug satisfactions coursed through him at the realization that Feyre had been telling Mor about him. Not Tamlin—or at least, not exclusively Tamlin.

Feyre retreated from her hands just enough to glower at Mor. She wasn't meeting Rhysand's eyes, which likely had something to do with her scarlet coloring. He'd made her blush before, but never like this—never the kind that spread over her throat and collarbones, too. For a distracted second, he let himself imagine dragging his lips across every inch of red skin, just to see how long he could make the color linger.

"Let me guess," Rhys said, knowing he should keep the purr from his voice—she was engaged, for Christ's sake—but his eyes never lifted from her face. "She told you about a devilishly handsome salesman who sits at the desk across from her?"

"Hmm." Mor feigned an expression of deep thought. "That doesn't ring any bells, no. Though I'm pretty certain she mentioned something about a giant prick?"

Feyre's lips twitched, the making's of a smile.

Until Rhys interjected, "I suppose I do wear tight pants."

"You're disgusting," Mor said, wrinkling her nose. Feyre made a sound like she was inclined to agree.

And it was starting to drive him crazy that she wasn't saying anything. Was still refusing to look at him.

He tried to tempt her gaze by dragging her gin and tonic across the table, pushing it towards her as he asked, "What else have you been telling my cousin about me, Feyre darling?"

Finally. Finally she looked at him. Those blue eyes were more wary than he was used to seeing, but still full of challenge. More so, as they narrowed.

"I didn't know you two are cousins," she said, artfully evading the subject.

"Would have kept the finer details to yourself, if you'd known?"

Feyre lifted her chin. "It's not nice to speak ill of someone's family."

"Oh, I'm sure your descriptions were scathing." He smirked. "Do you have a code name for me?"

"Yeah, Prick."

"I know you're more imaginative than that, Feyre. You probably gave her a physical description, too, hmm? Tall, dreamy eyes, dark-haired—"

"Swaggering, insufferable arrogance," Feyre filled in.

Mor shook her head in disbelief. "I should have known it was Rhys from that alone."

"You wound me," Rhys said, clutching his chest. "Both of you."

His cousin rolled her eyes. "I think you'll manage to recover." She turned to Feyre and tapped her half full glass. "Where's the bathroom? There's a cute brunette at the bar and I need to make sure my lipstick hasn't smeared."

Feyre studied Mor's makeup. "You're fine."

"Liar. You just don't want me to leave you alone with Rhys." She slid out of the booth, her white teeth on full display. "I think you two can play nice for five minutes."

"Your judgment is questionable as always, Mor," Rhys said, though it did nothing to deter his cousin from gathering her purse and striding towards the restrooms.

Leaving him alone with Feyre.

He reminded himself to take deep, steady breaths—a task which escalated in difficulty once he noticed the scent of her perfume. Lilac and pear, the same she was wearing the day of his family's funeral. The same scent which had long since faded from the scarf she'd wrapped around his neck.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry for crashing your girl's night."

Feyre shook her head. "Don't be sorry. I knew you were coming. I just… didn't know you were coming."

"And that makes it worse?" He said, ignoring the pang in his chest that she would prefer a stranger's company to his own.

"It makes it… complicated."

"Complicated?" Rhys raised his brows. "Like how Mor asked me to come here to meet her single friend kind of complicated?"

Feyre sat up straighter. "Mor said what?"

Rhys winced. He hadn't meant to throw Mor under the bus. "Just for my own clarity, you are engaged to Tamlin, right?"

"That's also…. complicated."

"Complicated how, Feyre?"

She chewed on her lower lip. A habit he'd noticed at the office, and had sent him walking stiffly to the men's room more times than he'd care to admit.

"Tamlin asked me to marry him last night," Feyre said, her voice so soft that he needed to lean over the table to hear her over the loud atmosphere. "I didn't say yes. I didn't say no, either. I just… I wanted more time to think about it, I guess. But he announced it to everyone in the office today."

Rhysand's grip tightened around his whiskey glass. "That bastard."

"I don't know what to do about it," Feyre said, all in one exhale. Her shoulder slumped. "I feel trapped. If I back out now, it will be this whole big thing. We'll have to walk it back in front of the entire office and it will be so uncomfortable."

The last thing Feyre needed was a big reaction. He could see it in the way she braced herself across from him, holding her body taut as if she was a passenger in some unbridled vehicle, expecting to crash at any moment.

He managed to keep his voice calm as he said, "This isn't the kind of decision that you should feel pressured into. You should marry someone because you want to, not because you feel obligated."

Feyre shrugged. The gesture was resigned, like he wasn't saying anything she hadn't already said to herself.

"I don't know what I want," she admitted.

"Then I think that's your answer. If it's not a resounding, unwavering yes, then you shouldn't do it."

"Will it ever be like that, though?" Her voice was strained. "Do people ever actually fall in love and know that they want to be with that person forever? Without any question?"

Rhys needed to take a deep swallow of his whiskey before he could answer. "Yes," he said, feeling it burn down his throat—the admission and the alcohol and the words he just couldn't bring himself to say. "If it's the right person, you know. Without any question."

Her eyes bored into his, so deep he swore she could see straight to the quick of his soul, where he was still raw and healing and afraid to tell her what he should be telling her.

Don't marry him.

I love you.

Please, don't marry him.

He didn't know what he would do—he didn't know if he would survive—if he unmasked himself completely, revealing every gnarled, jagged edge of jealousy and love and fear, and she still walked away.

"You came here wanting to meet one of Mor's single friends?" Feyre's voice trembled a bit, as if she was also holding back too much, waning beneath the weight. "Like, to be set up on a date?"

"Yeah," he said, shame drying the roof of his mouth. It felt like a betrayal, though he couldn't explain why or how. "It's been a while since I've put myself out there."

Feyre looked down at her drink. "Sorry you got me instead."

If there was one thing Rhys couldn't stand, it was hearing Feyre apologize for something outside of her control. She was always doing that in the office—apologizing for delays due to broken printers and out-of-order lifts.

"I owed you a drink though, didn't I?" He forced himself to wink. To grin. To play the smug arrogance he knew she expected from him. "This is a much better twist of fate."

Feyre opened her mouth, as if she was about to say something else, when Mor saddled back into the booth, lipstick freshly re-applied. "So," she said, tossing a lock of curls over her shoulder. "What did I miss?"

Feyre did, eventually, call off her engagement with Tamlin.

It happened months after Mor's failed setup attempt. Months of listening to Feyre go back and forth with Tamlin in the office about wedding plans, holding his tongue while she was strong-armed through every decision. Months of watching her steadily grow thinner, quieter, duller.

Months of watching Feyre Archeron wilt before his very eyes.

He didn't know what the catalyst was, in the end. All he knew was that one day, he walked into the office armed with a stupid joke to try to make her smile, since she was doing less and less of it these days. And instead he'd met the stern face of their new receptionist, Alis.

So when Mor told him that she'd invited Feyre on their annual trip to their family cabin in the Alps, he'd had conflicting feelings.

One hand, he'd get to spend a week of uninterrupted time with Feyre, where they could deviate from their usual script of jammed printers and pleasant weather. And more importantly, he could finally, finally, enjoy her company without the threat of her impending engagement looming over their shoulders.

On the other hand, what was the appropriate buffer to give the love of your life time to grieve her relationship with the worst man you've ever met? Mor had told him, very sternly he would add, that all topic surrounding Tamlin were strictly off limits.

Did that include topics concerning the absence of Tamlin, and if or when she'd be ready for someone to fill that void?

He ached to tell her how he felt. Now that the Tamlin-shaped dam was finally removed, he was drowning from the weight of holding back years of confessions and unrequited feelings.

Their burden became impossible to carry the closer the trip became, to the point where he considered bailing simply out of fear that he wouldn't be able to control himself. Feyre deserved better than that. After all this time, they both did.

But his fears were unfounded when she walked through the door.

Rhys had long associated Feyre's presence with joy. Even during those agonizing months he'd loved her and believed she would be marrying another man. The sight of her walking into a room still filled him with joy.

Now, he was flooded with distress.

She was thin. He noticed she'd been losing weight in the months leading up to her resignation. But this was drastic.

Feyre looked as if her dread and grief were eating her alive.

He wanted to weep at the sight of what Tamlin had done to her. Weep, then take Cass and Az and three of their best baseball bats and—

"Feyre darling," he greeted, lifting from the sofa with a broad smile. "Look at you, out of work clothes."

"I'm surprised you recognize me in something other than a blouse."

"Well, I wasn't certain at first," he intoned, strolling closer to the doorway. Until he could see the snowflakes on her long eyelashes and every adorable freckle smattered over her nose and cheeks. "But that smear of paint always gives you away."

Feyre turned her head to Mor, her eyes widening as if to confirm, Do I really have paint on my face?

"Oh, ignore him," Mor grumbled. But she did lick her thumb and lean in to rub Feyre's cheekbone, which resulted in sputtered protest that his cousin happily ignored.

Rhys watched Feyre thrash against Mor's hold, a familiar fondness stirring in his chest. "It is nice to see you again, Feyre. I've missed you at the office."

"Why?" She snorted. "Because I was the only sane person there?"

"Precisely for that reason."

He opened his arms to her, and he was relieved that she didn't hesitate for a second to throw her arms around him. Rhys held her tight, trying and failing not to marvel at how fragile she felt. Some delicate, breakable thing.

What happened to the girl who proudly drank from an office wanker mug on her second week? Rhys knew she was still there, hidden behind layers of guilt and sorrow and what he suspected was the subconscious voice of a man who'd tried everything in his power to whittle her down.

"How is… everyone?" She asked, her diction stilted just enough that he knew who she was truly asking after.

He shot a help me glance to Mor, who immediately jumped in and admonished, "You both promised me no office talk!"

Rhys held up his hands. "Okay, okay. How about wine talk?"

"Why dear cousin of mine, how did you know that's my favorite topic?"

"Lucky guess," he said flatly.

He recognized Feyre's laugh. That hollow, polite sound that she used during her first week in the office, when she felt obligated to laugh at every bland, unfunny joke. Including his own.

It was enough that she was laughing—that she was trying to laugh again. And he resolved that if he could do one thing for her on this trip, it would be getting her to laugh. A genuine, shoulder-shaking, clutching-her-stomach-because-she-can't-breathe laugh.

Rhys turned his gaze to her, failing not to notice the dark circles under her eyes. "What about you, darling? Are you drinking wine these days?"

She grinned, though it didn't quite meet her eyes. "I'm drinking anything these days."

That seemed like too much to unpack when she was still standing in the entryway, the open door blowing a gust of cold air at her back.

It was instinct, the way he reached for her scarf to unravel her in the direction of the overstuffed armchair. If he was overstepping, Feyre didn't seem to mind. Her laughter was more breath than anything, but she indulged him by twirling on her toes, helping him to unwrap the rest of the scarf as if it were a choreographed dance. Though, with the way her balance wobbled at the end, Rhys didn't suspect they'd be competing on any dance shows in the near future.

"Careful," he said, bracing her elbow. "The nearest hospital is an hour away and in the next thirty minutes, none of us will be sober enough to drive you."

"You could always bundle me up on a sled," Feyre mused. He let go once she regained her balance and tried not to look disappointed when she retreated from his touch to curl up on the arm chair. "At least if I didn't reach the bottom, I'd be going out in style."

"Sledding!" Mor squealed, clapping her hands together. "Oh, yes, we should absolutely do that this year!"

Rhys shot his cousin an incredulous look. "If I recall correctly, our last emergency hospital visit was the result of sledding."

Mor poked her tongue at him. "Whatever. Cass probably thought it was as worth it for the photos alone."

Rhys explained to Feyre, "Last year, Cass face-planted a rock. Fucked up both his front teeth."

"He was so drunk he didn't even notice until he saw the blood," Mor added, rolling her eyes. "Az took a picture and Cassian made it his screensaver for like six months."

Feyre shuddered. "I think I'll pass on the sledding."

If he was honest, Rhys hoped she stayed exactly where she was for the rest of the trip. Safe, in that oversized chair, in front of the crackling fire, where he could already see some color returning to her expression.

His eyes swiveled to the basket of blankets tucked beneath the coffee table. He knew if he grabbed one for her, he'd be accused of coddling. And maybe he was.

Even so, he couldn't help praising, "Wise decision."

"Lame decision," said a deep voice, striding out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped far too precariously around his hips.

The cabin had four bedrooms, two on each side of the hall, with only one bathroom nestled in the center. No one was exactly thrilled to be sharing a single bathroom between five adults, though Cassian argued half the fun was trying to catch a glimpse of Azriel naked.

"Cassian I presume?" Feyre said from the armchair.

Cass grinned, striding forward on wet, slapping feet. The only thing that dissuaded him from dripping onto the carpet to go shake Feyre's hand—or offer some other, far less appropriate greeting—was Rhysand's sharp glare

"And you must be the renown Feyre Archeron." He slid Rhys a knowing grin that was begging for a punch. "I'll go get dry before the hall monitor gives me a detention for getting his precious carpet wet. But then, you and I have much to talk about."

Rhys couldn't give two shits about the carpet, though it was his parents' and it was cashmere. But he would prefer if Cassian could avoid flashing Feyre when she was only a few weeks post-break-up.

He needed things to go well so that Feyre would consider coming back next year. And the year after. And however many holidays it would take for her to consider that she might like to be part of this group.

And if that was all she ever wanted, that would be good enough. As long as she was happy again.

"Should I be scared?" Feyre asked.

"Of Cassian?" Mor laughed. "No more than you would be afraid of a big, slobbery puppy."

"It's Az people usually find scary," Rhys said, wandering in the kitchen to fetch the girls their wine. "But that's just 'cause he's quiet. Truth is, he's a big softie."

"More like he's got a big softie," Mor muttered.

Rhys straightened. "Pardon?"

"Are we talking about Az's dick?" Cassian called, scrambling back into the room. "Without me?"

The front door shut, diverting everyone's attention to where Azriel stood, a gloved hand still pressing the handle. He blinked at them, sighed, and then walked back out the front door.

"Wait, Az!" Cassian called, cackling as he vaulted over the sofa to get to the front door faster, narrowly recovering from flashing them by fisting the towel at his groin. He managed to catch the door before it closed, sprinting outside with his feet and chest still bare.

"Are they…" Feyre hesitated. "Together?"

It was a terrible time to have handed Mor her wine glass. She sputtered, choking on a mixture of wine and laughter that erupted over her clothes, the sofa, and the coffee table.

Feyre leapt to her feet to help. "Oh my god, are you okay?" She thumped a fist behind Mor's back as his cousin's laughter fizzled into a coughing fit.

Rhys, meanwhile, set Feyre's wine glass on a clean corner of the coffee table and returned to the kitchen to grab some paper towels.

"I'm sorry for—all of them, really," he called to her.

Mor, still wheezing, could only lift her middle finger broadly on his direction.

"To answer your question," Rhys said, coming back to Mor's side to divide layers of paper towel among the three of them. "No, Cassian and Azriel are not dating."

His cousin shrieked at the reminder, launching into another coughing fit.

"Thanks," Feyre said, balling up her collection of towels to dab them gingerly into the carpet. Red wine. His parents were rolling in their graves. "I, uh, think I put that one together."

"Cass just likes to push buttons. And Azriel's the most private among us, which leads to a lot of speculation," he sent Mor a pointed look, "among our group."

Mor, having mostly recovered from her fit, tapped her chest and croaked, "It's the greatest tragedy of Cassian's life that he'll never know if his dick is bigger than Az's."

"We spend every year naked together in a sauna," Rhys reminded her, raising his brows as if to say, what are you up to? Mor didn't usually indulge conversations about naked men to this degree. "Believe me, he knows."

"And?"

Rhys jerked his head, just to be sure he'd heard the question right. Feyre was looking at him with a glint in her eye. She was biting her lip, restraining a laugh just like she'd done on the first day they'd spoken to each other in the break room.

A habit she'd never broken, after all these years.

His lips twitched. "And, what, Feyre darling?"

"What's the outcome of this annual dick measuring contest you three apparently have in the sauna?"

"Why don't you join us this year and find out?"

"Am I allowed to bring my strap?" Mor asked.

The front door shut, revealing cold-flushed yet grinning Cassian and a bewildered looking Azriel.

"I don't know what conversation we just walked in on," Cassian said, "but count me in."

This was a nightmare. At least, Rhys thought it was a nightmare. Feyre, strangely, seemed to be enjoying herself and he thanked the gods that she had a good sense of humor about all this chaos.

"You must be Azriel," Feyre said, beaming at the dark haired male becoming a shadow at Cassian's back. "I've heard so much about you."

Azriel glanced toward the door. Rhys knew he was debating the merits of trying to make another escape. He'd probably already started his car by the time Cassian caught up and dragged his ass back.

"All good things," Feyre assured quickly.

Rhys didn't think he'd ever seen Azriel blush before.

"What happened here?" Cassian said with a low whistle, taking in the mess of wine-soaked paper towels. "It's too early in the evening for you to have forgotten where your mouth is, Morrigan."

"Har har." Mor stood up from the sofa. "Just for that, I'm stealing one of your hoodies."

"Didn't you bring your own clothes?" He complained.

"It wouldn't be a punishment if I wore my own."

"I only brought like two hoodies!"

"You should have thought about that before you opened your big, dumb mouth."

"At least steal one of Az's. He smells better than me."

"If you think so, maybe you should wear one of his hoodies."

"Mor—" Cassian groaned as she strode off into his room. "Mor!"

"I should have warned you they were going to bicker like this," Rhys said apologetically, perching himself against the armrest of Feyre's chair to, at last, hand her a wine glass.

"Oh trust me, bickering over sharing clothes is a staple of sisterhood. I'm used to it."

"That's right, you have two sisters don't you? Nesta and Elain." She looked surprised he remembered. "How are they doing?"

"Well. Nesta is this scary, big shot lawyer who eats suited men for breakfast and Elain is living the dream cottage core life with her husband, Lucien. You remember him, right? He was Tam's—" she winced. Like that name was a bruise she didn't mean to press.

"I remember him," Rhys said, trying to help her past the slip-up. "Redhead, right? Snarky?"

She snorted. "You could say that again."

"Does he treat her right?"

"Oh, like a princess." She rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't believe the way she has him wrapped around her little finger."

"I believe it," Rhy said. He wondered if he had that stupid grin on his face again, the one that proved just how wound he was around Feyre's little finger.

Feyre didn't seem to know how to respond to that, but she shrugged and said, "They're happy."

Rhys didn't doubt for a second Feyre was happy for her sister, but he could see the discomfort on her face at that admission. It couldn't have been easy to have a brother-in-law who was close to her ex fiancé. And he knew first hand how difficult it was to see someone else happy and have that reality feel so distant it was foreign.

"I'm glad," he said. "And I'm glad you could join us this year. It will be a relief to have someone sane in our entourage."

"I don't think that's fair to Azriel," Feyre said. "So far, he's been the most well behaved."

Az smiled. "The night is still young."

Rhys chuckled at Feyre's look of betrayal. "Like I said, darling. You're the most sane person here."

"Maybe that's what I'd like you to think."

He liked seeing something other than resignation in her eyes again. So much that he couldn't resist leaning forward, his voice ripe with challenge as he purred, "Then I look forward to being proved otherwise."

Despite his best efforts, Rhys couldn't convince Mor that it was a bad idea to take everyone sledding the next morning.

They were all nursing hangovers from a concoction of liquors that they'd made the mistake of letting Cassian combine into what he called 'Solstice Punch'. Rhysand had a blistering headache, which wasn't helped by Cassian's noisy attempt to make breakfast. With only four rooms, Rhys had drawn the short straw for who had to sleep on the couch.

Rhys groaned, burying his head beneath a pillow. "There is no way in hell that you're getting me onto a sled today."

"Even if you get to share one with Feyre?" Cassian teased. "You'll get to wrap your arms around her and—"

"Shut up."

"I guess Az and I will just get to enjoy her company instead," Cassian said smugly.

It nearly convinced Rhys to go, until Mor strode into the living room. "Feyre isn't coming," she announced. "She's not feeling good."

Rhys sat up way too fast. "Is she okay?" He asked, blinking away the black spots that burst in his vision.

"Calm down, white knight. She's just hungover like the rest of us." Mor looked at Cassian, frowning. "Maybe we should take it easy today."

"Fuck that. Az is already loading the car. You coming?"

Mor sighed. "I can't leave Feyre."

"Sure you can," Cassian said, grinning over her shoulder at Rhys. "Lover boy will take perfect care of her."

Rhys slumped back into the sofa, ignoring the jab. "You go, Mor. We'll take it easy today."

Mor pressed her lips together, consternation pulling at her brows as she flicked her eyes between Rhys and Cassian. "Fine," she said with a sigh. "I'll go. Someone needs to babysit the idiots. You sure you'll be okay, Rhys?"

"Peachy," he grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut. "Now get the hell out of here so I can go back to sleep."

Rhys couldn't say how much longer he slept for. When he woke up, the cabin was silent. Someone had graciously left the curtains drawn, keeping the living room subdued in darkness and by the same virtue, making it impossible to guess how late in the day it was.

The heating had kicked on at some point, leaving him sweating beneath the pile of blankets. He kicked them off and shuffled into the hall.

"Feyre?" He called, stopping to listen outside her door. When there was no answer, he assumed she must still be asleep.

Rhys pushed into the bathroom, intent on washing off his sweat even if the bright fluroscents felt like a thousand needles shoved into his eye sockets. He groaned, fumbling half-blind as he jerked the shower curtain open and turned on the water.

It was only once he was under the water, steam billowing around him, that he felt his head begin to clear. And that was when he realized he left his clothes in the living room.

Rhys fell forward with a groan, resting his head against the damp tile as he debated the merits of retrieving his clothes now or waiting until he finished his shower. There was no telling if Feyre would still be asleep by the time he finished. At least if he left now, he could evade a potentially awkward encounter.

It took all of his willpower to step out of the warm embrace of water. More, to grab a towel and wrap it around his waist.

He opened the door gradually, peering through the crack to ensure the coast was clear before he hurried with wet, slapping footprints to where his bag rested beside the sofa.

As he crouched to unzip the top, he heard the unmistakable sound of the front door handle turning. He froze.

The door pushed open. He knew he was doomed because whoever stepped through was far too silent to be a member of his family.

Rhys hovered in place, clutching his towel tight around the hips, internally debating whether it was better to let her know he was there or try to flee behind the kitchen counter before she realized.

"Rhys?" Feyre called.

Shit. It was fine, right? She'd seen Cassian in a towel yesterday and hardly reacted.

Slowly, he rose from behind the couch, prepared to play this off with a flirty comment. But as soon as he saw her, his brain deserted every word of the linguistic tongue.

"Oh!" She jumped, faltering to quickly re-secure the towel she had wrapped around her torso.

Rhys decided a Christmas deity must be trying to punish him. There was no other explanation for the ridiculous towel she was wearing, so short her breasts spilled over the top and if she bent, even the slightest, he would be able to see her entire ass.

Where on Earth had she found a towel like that?

Rhys needed to finish mentally reeling his tongue back in before he was able to shape coherent words. And once he did, they came out entirely too rough, like he was scraping them over sandpaper.

"Well, one of us is going to have to change."

A familiar blush was spreading over her chest, but Feyre did a good job keep in her expression composed as she quirked a brow. "I think that depends on who wore it better."

"I won't make any argument on that front," Rhys said. It was taking every ounce of restraint not to drink her in like this. "I'm just grabbing some clothes and I'll head into the shower."

"Or—"

How could such a soft, breathy word strike with enough momentum to take him off his feet? Rhys clenched his hand tighter around the handle of his bag, trying to will his blood flow back into his head.

"You could come join me?"

Fuck. Fuck. He'd never heard Feyre use the voice before—at least anywhere outside of his own fantasies. It was just rough enough to scrape him raw, wondering if he'd imagined the sultry undertone or if he was letting his own ego get to his head.

"Join you where, exactly, darling?"

"The sauna," she said. "I've just warmed it up, and seeing as you're already dressed for the occasion…"

This was how it must have felt to be ensnared by a siren. To see your every desire brought to life, just in reaching distance, and to know it would be your undoing.

There wasn't any scenario where he could go into a sauna with Feyre, alone, and keep hold of the careful distance he was putting between them. He couldn't think of a single outcome that wouldn't end with Feyre in his lap, panting beneath his touch. And he wanted it. So badly he would crash his ship to shore and gladly drown in the wreckage.

But he wanted her to be ready, too. He didn't want to be another man pressuring her into say yes, making her feel trapped. If he was going to kiss her, touch her, do anything more than flirt with her, he needed to do it in a neutral space, where she could leave if it became too much.

Rhys was careful not to let the pain show on in his face. He released his breath through his nose, quiet, measured.

"I think we should wait until we're better hydrated," he said. "I wouldn't want you passing out. Rain check?"

Feyre's smiled dropped. Rhys was starting to feel nauseous again, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol sitting heavy in his stomach.

"Oh." Feyre said. He could hear her disappointment. "Okay. Maybe later, then."

Rhys held himself still as she hurried past, fleeing into her room. His chest pinched at the sound of the door snicking shut, as if a piece of his heart was caught in the doorjamb, begging for it to open.

With a sigh, he gathered his clothes and went back to his shower.

Feyre

Azriel, Cassian, and Mor had returned at some point in the late afternoon with a few nicks and bruises, but no broken teeth. Feyre was assured that meant it was a successful sledding trip. Which was more than she could say about her lazy day at the cabin.

She'd spent most of it in her room, with the exception of her brief attempt to coax Rhys into the sauna. After his mortifyingly polite rejection, she'd spent the rest of the day in her room until Mor came knocking.

"You okay?" She asked, finding Feyre buried beneath a pile of blankets.

This was ordinarily Rhysand's room. Which meant that everything in here smelled like him. Citrus and a dark, churning sea, threatening to swallow her whole beneath warm, chunky-knit blankets.

"Doesyercznlkmm?"

"What?" Mor stepped further into the room, shutting the door behind her.

Feyre pulled her head out from beneath the blankets. "Does your cousin like me?"

"Rhys?" Mor frowned. "Of course he likes you."

"No, that's not what I mean. You know how I feel about him, Mor. Sometimes I think he feels the same way, but then he just pulls away from me."

Mor glanced towards the door, her expression wary. She always grew a little evasive whenever their conversation skewed towards Rhys, and Feyre felt a little guilty for putting her in the middle.

"My cousin can be pretty guarded," Mor said. "He keeps his cards close to his chest, especially after his family died. But… Look in that box, under the bed."

Feyre's eyes followed Mor's gesture to the small gap under Rhysand's bed. Curious, Feyre extracted herself from the bed to fish out a small shoebox. She pushed the lid open, frowning when she saw a red scarf carefully folded inside.

"He took that here last year. Wore it everywhere. It was the first Christmas since his family died and I think it brought him a lot of comfort." Mor shrugged. "He wouldn't say where it was from but I have my suspicions."

Feyre ran her fingers over the soft wool, recalling the anguish on his face when she'd given it to him. She'd always half-heartedly wondered what happened to the scarf, but she'd assumed he'd thrown it out or otherwise forgotten about it.

Mor said, "If you want to know how he feels, you should just ask him. But I think you mean a lot to him, Feyre. Maybe he's just waiting for you to tell him how you feel."

Easier said than done. The last two years was a montage of chances where she could have told Rhys how she felt and didn't. It was always never the right time. He was working late or she was rushing out the door or he was grieving or she was dating Tamlin—or it was just safer to stay in this soft, liminal space between friendship and something more.

Walking away from Tamlin had been easy. Complicated, yes, but emotionally… All she'd felt was relief.

If it's the right person, you know. Without any question.

"Right," Feyre breathed, nodding to herself. "Tell him how I feel. That should be…" Nerve wracking. "I can do that."

Rhys

When Rhys felt something soft wrapping around his neck, his first suspicion was that Az and Cass were pulling a prank on him. It wasn't uncommon to wake up from a drunken stupor in this cabin with a marker mustache and a few drawn-on dicks.

He was convinced when he felt the weight of a body settle over him.

"C'mon Cass," he mumbled. "Not now."

The body above him giggled. Light. Feminine.

"Does that imply Cass usually climbs into bed with you?"

Rhys opened his eyes to find Feyre's face hovering inches over his, her hair cascading around his head like a canopy. Her hands were at his chest, tugging a red scarf around his neck.

"What's going on?" He asked, not convinced he was awake. He didn't even remember going to bed, but the lights were off, so it had to be late. "What time is it?"

"You never gave my scarf back," she said, as if that was a perfectly reasonable answer to his question. "But you kept it all this time."

She was straddling his lap, her ass settled just above his groin. If he moved even the slightest bit, he would grind against her, and he couldn't deny the temptation crossed his mind.

"Are you drunk?" He asked. Which, as he thought about it, was a stupid question. They'd all been drinking—Feyre more than anyone. He had a vague memory of half guiding, half stumbling with her into his bedroom.

Which, as he sat up, was where he realized they still were. Not on the sofa. Christ, he must have crashed trying to get her to bed.

"Not any more than you," she argued. "At least I managed to stay awake. Pussy."

He laughed. "Did you really just call me a pussy?"

"Do you prefer it to Prick?"

"Not really. Though I'll admit, I am fascinated to learn what other filthy words you'd like to call me."

Feyre tugged at the scarf, drawing his face closer to hers. He could feel her breath against his lips as she whispered, "You'll have to earn them."

He fought a shiver at the invitation in her voice. "How?"

"Kiss me," she said, eyes fixing on his mouth.

He wanted to. More than he wanted to breathe. "We're drunk, Feyre."

Her eyes lifted to his. "Pussy," she said again, before grabbing both ends of the scarf and yanking it upwards, crashing her mouth to his.

Rhys shut his eyes, a guttural sound forming in the back of his throat as he slipped his arms around her back, pulling her tighter. It wasn't the kind of first kiss he'd imagined giving her. That had always been soft and sweet, an admission in itself.

This kiss was clumsy and urgent—two people latching to each other as if terrified the other would let go. Feyre wound her fingers into his hair, pulling with a grip he likened to someone hanging from a precipice, where every digit, every ounce of surface area, could be the difference between life or death.

"Feyre," he groaned, trying to pull away. She chased him, mouth crashing back to his, swallowing his protests, and he was simulatenously in heaven and hell. "Feyre," he said again, pushing lightly at her shoulders.

Slowly, reluctantly, she pulled away. He could feel her body trembling.

"Don't push me away, Rhys." Her voice was so small. "Please, don't push me away. Not again."

She might as well have reached into his chest and ripped his heart straight out.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, securing an arm around her back to keep her pressed where she was, her fluttering heart beating against his. "I'll sleep here. Just—let's wait until the morning, okay? I promise to kiss you stupid once you're sober."

Feyre tugged at her scarf as she thought about it. He knew she made her decision when she sighed softly and slumped into his body, resting her head against his chest.

"Rain check?" She asked, with a small yawn.

Rhys had never been happier to say those two stupid words. "Rain check."

#Rain Check?#Acotargiftexchange #Feysand #Feysand fic #Feysand fanfic #Feysand fanfiction #Feyre x Rhys #Rhys x Feyre #Rhysand x Feyre #Feyre x Rhysand

55 notes · View notes

cardentist · 9 months ago

Text

"haha Wow can you Believe how crazy it is that jay outed tim's medical records?"

Hoody:

1: stole tim's records from when he was 8 years old, which meant that he had to Specifically and Intentionally track them down To steal them. from his house? Maybe, we certainly see him breaking into tim's house plenty. (though why would tim even still have those)

2: baited jay both in person and online implying that tim was lying to him (reminder, the last guy who lied to jay about his intentions tried to kill him with a gun and turned out to have tried to murder all of his friends. and tim himself had watched jay sleep, been in videos threatening him right before jay's apartment burned down, and tried to physically attack him.)

3: intentionally planted the records in a scary tunnel under the abandoned burned down mental hospital and lead jay there by the nose, going so far to write how much of liar tim is in big bold sharpie on the files themselves.

4: after all of this happened hoodie's immediate next step was to break into tim's house, steal his medication, and intentionally set off and film tim having a seizure and post it on the internet.

Hoodie leaked tim's medical records, he specifically and Intentionally baited jay into finding and documenting them because it proved that tim was lying about the slender haunting only starting recently for him.

and it's important to note that jay's response wasn't to get angry with tim, it was to Blame Himself and express empathy for tim.

it's Also worth noting that the majority of the records were redacted (including tim's Name), which is a point in favor of both jay And hoodie (hoodie still cares about tim, even if he's angry at him and willing to hurt him to push him towards what he thinks needs to be done).

moreover, jay's censored tim's last name before (several times, actually), just like he's censored amy and jessica's phone numbers. I think it's safe to assume that part of the reason why jay filmed it was because those details Were redacted (that and, of course, evidence keeps disappearing from his house and from his laptop. which means if he forgets about them and they're stolen then they're just gone- if there isn't some other record of them online, of course).

my point being, it burns my ass that people blame jay for this and hold it against him like it's the worst thing that he could've done, without ever holding it against hoodie.

I feel like this is a cross section of fans only holding characters accountable for what other characters get mad about (tim was Right to be angry at jay for it, but he didn't call out hoodie. probably because there'd be no point, he can't exactly hold him responsible. likewise jay Deliberately didn't get mad at tim about what he did as masky, at least not openly, so fans tend to not understand his perspective)

And fans holding jay to a different standard than they do other characters in general. whether it's because most of his personal information is on his twitter (secondary material people are less likely to go through, especially while watching), because his voice acting tends to be less emotionally charged (it was probably just that troy's acting was a little awkward, but I personally like to read him as autistic), Or because he's just generally not as cool.

either way, people tend to hold jay accountable for things they let tim and hoody off the hook for. and it's kind of Really insane in this case.

#marble hornets #mh #slenderverse #spoilers #marble hornets spoilers #jay merrick #tim wright #most of the time people are just joking #But Like #I Mean Come On

121 notes · View notes

bird-inacage · 7 months ago

Text

Love Sea Episode 4: Where Things Have Gone Astray

It pains me to say it, but I found Episode 4 sloppy in it's execution, direction and writing overall. (I'd like to preface that regardless of how much I like fortpeat, or have enjoyed the series for the most part, I personally think it's important to be able to critique a show when it's flaws present themselves, and not to blindly excuse those issues because we want so badly to like it).

The transition from island to Bangkok was a huge turning point in the story, and I'm disappointed to say it wasn't handled well. The episode felt very off-beat and clunky compared to the lovely moments we got last week. Most of the issues centre on inconsistencies in character trajectory that were set up by the end of Episode 3. So let's unpack what went wrong here.

Mut is brusquely given the cold shoulder

My biggest gripe is the treatment of Mut this episode and without good reason. Let's start by recognising that Mut has potentially left his entire way of life behind: his friends, his community, his livelihood - all on the possibility that Rak may come to love him. I don't think Mut's naively banking on this being forever, but the emphasis here is he's willing to give it all up. The lack of acknowledgement to this gesture was glaring. The boy is only 20 years old, may I stress. Rak knows the hardships that Mut has faced, which should make this sacrifice even more significant in my opinion. What little Mut has built from scratch, he's willing to leave behind. All for Rak.

Other than a few brief moments of Rak looking sheepish/guilty, he's very passive throughout. I was really hoping he'd display more initiative and maturity here as the older party (like he did at the end of Episode 3). Even more disappointingly, once they land in Bangkok, Rak has Mut trailing behind him and largely leaves him to his own devices. At points, Rak's attitude towards Mut feels borderline exploitative. Rak is the one who begged Mut to come with him, and now that he's there, he seems to be putting Mut on trial.

Mut's hospitality on the island was due to Rak being an outsider who was completely out of his comfort zone. Now they've essentially reversed the situation but somehow the default is still Mut making all the effort (and yes, I know he's getting paid, but the last 3 episodes have just attempted to establish that their relationship is beyond just monetary). We need to see some more active reciprocation from Rak that supports why he was so driven for Mut to stay with him.

We've also been shown that though Mut is incredibly patient, he's not a doormat. When Rak crosses a line, he does get angry. Mut ran away when his father offended his core values, so we know he's capable of putting his foot down. But Rak's treatment of him here roused no protest or questioning when it would be fully warranted. By the time they discuss the contract, it's a null confrontation as Mut has already conceded to Rak's demands by signing. I wish he stood up for himself more here.

Tongrak's change in demeanour

The Rak we see in Bangkok is how I would imagine his character to be at the beginning of the series. Slightly haughty and dismissive. But because our impression of Rak was intentionally reversed so early on - where we were shown his sensitivity and softness - to have him slip back into a standoffish persona gave me whiplash. Has Rak regressed to who he was prior to the island? Has his time with Mut not changed anything? We know it has, which is why this front feels performative. Why would Rak feel the need to play into this character when Mut's already seen who he is underneath? And what has triggered him to do so? His family haven't come into the picture yet. I don't think Rak really cares about Mook's judgement. So why?

I think it's a huge disservice to shrug this off with: 'oh it's because Rak has trauma', and that's why he's running hot and cold. Doing so only trivialises the magnitude of trauma as a 'convenient' excuse when the writing doesn't support itself well enough for a character's actions to feel convincingly well founded.

When I started Episode 4, I thought we'd missed a scene or were due a flashback that would signpost why Rak changed his mind. We're told it's because of his PA, but that doesn't hold up well because surely Rak would have factored that into the equation. There are plenty of ways they could have remedied this. They could have shown us that Rak was genuine in agreeing, but spirals over the enormity of such a decision afterwards, which leads him to back out. Or Rak agreed despite knowing full well he couldn't meet his promise, and only lied because he didn't want to hurt Mut's feelings. Or they could have included the phone call from his sister in this episode, which would indicate that Rak has bigger responsibilities outside of himself, which caused his decision to sway. But we didn't get anything to ground us to Rak's mindset this episode, so his mentality feels like a 180. It also makes his agreement to Mut feel flippant if all it took was for Mook to whine to change his mind.

I can accept Rak retreating emotionally out of pressure or worry, but it doesn't read that way. Instead, his actions and body language feel abruptly indifferent, oddly detached and cold. The contract just epitomises a clinical level of emotional distancing. Even when Mook voices her concerns, Rak looks exasperated. So this isn't presented to us as a reaction borne out of vulnerability. And because we don't see Rak mulling over any doubts about Mut or otherwise, his behaviour feels all the more sudden and incongruous.

Ultimately, Rak was the one who let Mut down. If Rak agreed to stay on the island because he truly cared about Mut, wouldn't he be feeling doubly guilty at present? Not only has he broken a promise, but Mut is making a huge compromise to pursue Rak. Yet, Rak's attitude seems to be: 'these are my terms, do you have a problem with that?' This challenging air feels out of place and counterintuitive to what they've set up so far. What has Mut done to deserve this? Why is Mut still the one accommodating and initiating, with seemingly no return?

When comedy is not your strong suit, do not lean into it

I have a real bone to pick with the 'humour' attempted in this episode. I know comedy is subjective, but these scenes are arguably the shows weakest moments. People underestimate just how hard it is to pull off comedy and to do it well. And the brand of humour they're going for comes across quite juvenile, slapstick or theatrical. Sadly it only magnifies Aya's acting as egregiously bad in this episode because Mook is leant on so heavily as comic relief.

Mook and Vi's presence as individuals and as a couple has also been very one-dimensional so far which doesn't help things. It's getting increasingly taxing to sit through their scenes when there's so little substance and depth there to root for. Trust me, I am trying to like them, but they're not making it easy.

At it's worst, filler offers us no further insight or advancement in either character or plot. Which inevitably makes you question why the run time is being wasted on excessively inconsequential material. That crime was being committed multiple times this episode.

This is not me writing off the series by any means. As I say in my introduction, I think it's extremely important as a viewer to retain the objectivity to recognise when there are speed bumps, dodgy choices or noticeable areas for improvement.

As I was writing this, I found myself going: 'I think I see what they were trying to go for here' and applying additional guess-work to fill in the gaps. But that's the issue. If the writing requires your viewer to do mental gymnastics to make it make sense, you've dropped the ball. I would heartily advocate for 'show, don't just tell'. But in this episode we neither get shown or told why our characters are acting like this, especially when it seems to contradict how we got here.

Let's hope next episode is only onwards and upwards.

#love sea #love sea the series #love sea episode 4 #tongrak x mahasamut #rakmut #fortpeat #fort thitipong #peat wasuthorn #yikes this one was hard to sit through #fort's scenes really shone #the rest of it was subpar at best #mut deserves better honestly #apologies for the thesis length #me: rak please do something or say something nice

56 notes · View notes

satancopilotsmytardis · 2 months ago

Text

Drabble-A-Thon 2 Prompt #7

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Prompt: From @zehei, Dabi drops

Contents: Subdrop (suicidal thoughts/tendencies) , hurt/comfort, safeword use, degradation, League won the war.

"Pathetic. But you know that already." Red eyes looking down at him as Dabi kneels in front of his throne. He isn't in the position to speak anyway. He's nothing but a toy, a tool, worthless for anything but this now that there isn't a war for them to fight anymore. He tries to keep the other's cock deep in his throat, tries to suck and swallow around him the best he can while the other has all five fingers knotted so tightly into his hair that he won't be able to pull away and even breathe unless the other man decides he's allowed. He won't kill him by accident anymore, but he could do it so intentionally, so quickly, Dabi doesn't know if he would even have time to register the betrayal.

"Worthless." Tomura adds. "Reduced to nothing but a set of holes. What ambition you used to have. Look at what you are now."

Dabi doesn't want to give in. He wants to hold it together, wants to prove that this, is not less than what he was before. But it is. He was the jewel of Tomura's army. He burned down half of the world for him, took his revenge, nearly died, and still clawed his way back to the land of the living, and now. Now this is all he's good for. He can't offer anything else that the other man actually needs. He is nothing more than a prized pet, well past his prime now that the fighting is over because that was all he built his body to do. Dabi tries to prove that he can still be good for this, but Tomura looks... bored as he moves his mouth. Frustration and helplessness bubble up inside of him and Dabi can't help it. Two little bloody tears slip from the corners of his eyes and run down his cheeks.

But they're signs of the weakness that Tomura has already been prodding at and he scoffs, letting go of his hair and shifting his gaze to the rest of the empty throne room. "It's a wonder that I even bother to keep something as pathetic as you."

Dabi sobs. Worthless. Useless. Why did he bother to stay alive if this is all he would turn into? He thought, maybe, he could make the love in his chest mean as much to him as his revenge, but he can't pretend now. It's been years, and every time his lover looks away from him, every time he huffs as he's made to take care of his broken body or divert his attention from his work to give it to Dabi, he shows him again and again that it wasn't worth him staying alive.

Those thoughts ring some kind of distant alarm bell in the back of his mind and Dabi pulls off of his lover's cock. That gets angry red eyes back on him because he definitely wasn't given permission for that. But he doesn't care. He can't hold onto Tomura's love or favor forever anyway, not when he can have anyone he wants in the whole world now. He just has to wait for him to throw him aside. Then he can just make himself a pyre somewhere dark and cold, give this world that has taken everything from him one last spiteful fire that blazes with warmth and light.

"I didn't give you permission--"

"Red," The word comes out on a sob, and that sound breaks his voice and breath. His chest is hitching and heaving in the next second, Dabi curling his torso in towards his folded knees, his hands moving to press up against his eyes as the tears burn hot and bitter from his eyes. The sounds are too loud and wracking, echoing all around the empty room.

"Okay, that's alright, baby." Tomura's voice is so different from the way that it sounded just a second before. So much softer and kinder, sweeter. "Can I hold you, sweetheart?"

Why would he even want to? Why keep playing at this being a happy ending for the both of them when this is just a prelude to the eternity that he will spend alone?

But when he can't move, can't find breath to speak, Tomura doesn't disregard him. He slips off of his throne onto the floor with Dabi and pulls him into his lap, holding him tight to his chest.

Dabi forces himself to find one more word, because he's past 'red' in a place that he can only just make sense of and knows he has to tell his lover, "Black."

Tomura tenses against him and holds him tighter, hand in his hair and one stroking along his back. "Firefly, you know I never mean the horrible things I say. I want you right here, with me. If you were gone, I would throw it all away and I would break the world to bring you back to my side. Don't leave me, love. Please stay right here with me." He holds him so tight. Holds him like he really is scared Dabi will burn up in his arms and he'll be left here, clawing at his ashes without a mark on his skin because he is perfect now. He won't ever age, won't ever die. He will outlive even his empire. He could have other people, other things to fill his time, he won't miss Dabi when he's gone.

His temperature creeps higher, the spark sitting under his skin, so ready to just take it all away.

The arms tighten around him a little more and he hears Tomura's voice tremble when he pleads, "Don't leave me, Dabi. Please, none of this will be worth keeping if you're not with me."

Dabi sobs harder, louder, his heat venting out between their bodies in a gust of black smoke as he clings to Tomura's skin as the sounds of his anguish keep echoing off of the walls.

///

When he comes back up, it's days later. It's always days later when his broken psyche tells him to end it all if his emotions slip too far sideways. He's sitting in their palace, in the dining room. He's at the end of the long table, looking out the wall of windows that are flooded with the early morning light, and he has his food in front of him. Tomura is pouring him his coffee.

Dabi reaches for his hand and stops him. Tomura lets the mug rest against the table and Dabi shifts so that he is holding his hand properly. Neither of them say anything for a long minute. But he has to say something. Has to hold onto this and remember that the way he was feeling before wasn't real. It was heightened emotions, warped through the lens of words that he asked for.

"Not in the throne room again." Not that kind of play. Not in a room that is a screaming reminder that no matter how close they are, how much they love each other right now, there is a very real possibility, if Dabi's treatments don't work, that Tomura will be sitting in that room alone for decades after it has rotted around him, still eternal and perfect. Miserable and mad from the isolation.

"Okay, firefly. Do you want to go back to bed?" It's probably been days, but he feels exhausted. He doesn't think he can handle facing the day.

"Okay." He turns and finally, fully, looks at Tomura. And his chest aches sharply. He loves him so much. He never thought he could have an emotion that burns brighter inside his chest than his desire for revenge. But he loves him. He would have never forgiven himself if he left him in a moment his mind was clouded. "I love you."

"I love you, firefly." Tomura leans down and Dabi wraps his arms around his neck. Lets his lover pick him up like he's small and fragile, and he still feels so brittle right now. It might be pushing it, but he needs it.

"Show me?"

Tomura pulls him close and presses their foreheads together. "Until you know it so innately that even your bones remember."

He wouldn't ever give this up. Wouldn't ever abandon Tomura. He'll get to a point where that isn't even a question anymore. The world is theirs. All he has to do is heal his mind enough that his body will be able to withstand the treatments, and then eternity will belong to them too.

Thanks for participating! If you'd like to join in, consider checking it out here!

#shigadabi #my writing #drabbe-a-thon

42 notes · View notes

goth-mami-writer · 8 months ago

Text

☆Unbothered☆ (pt.2)

~(AU) Leon Kennedy × f!Reader drabble/work

~Find part one here

~{Part 3 coming soon! ♡}

@lizzetmv ♡ @danigirls-missions ♡

《 You re-entered the house after dropping the kids at your mom's. You were still tired, but somehow you felt jittery listening to your quiet house from the foyer. Leon would be home later that night, and you'd be alone for a while, but your first thing to do with the silence of your home….evaded your mind. You wanted to catch up on laundry. Or maybe vacuum. But neither of those were relaxing, just necessary. So you decided on a shower.

Truthfully, you just wanted to stand under the water without worrying how long you'd been away from downstairs. When you stood in your towel afterwards, you realized you had time to look in the mirror for once instead of rushing to put on clothes.

Or even makeup that didn't have to take four seconds while you yelled down the stairs for everyone to have their shit ready and be in the car.

You wondered how long it'd even been since you used your vanity, and you sat down in front of the small mirror in your bedroom as you decided on what to wear. After you finished your face, you slipped into a dress that you knew might not make Leon turn his head too hard. It was old, and you'd worn it to events before, but God, it had been years. But suddenly you heard from downstairs as he came inside.

You checked your watch after noticing how early it was for him to be in, and you hurried down the hallway. You found him in the kitchen and asked from the catwalk that hung above your living room if he was playing hooky from work.

“No-” Leon said, not looking up away from the counter where he unboxed the take out dinner he'd bought on the way in so neither of you would have to cook,

“I finished up early and figured to hell with the last hour. God, it's quiet in here without the k-”

You watched as he froze after turning to face you almost by mistake. He had to look twice to make sure he wasn't mistaken, and you questioned the look on his face,

“What?”

“You-” He stuttered before smirking up to you, “I've not seen you wear something like that in a while….Does it feel good?”

You looked around unsure how to answer although you knew exactly what you wanted to say. It did feel good to pretend maybe for just a weekend that you weren't sleep deprived and on the cusp of a breakdown.

“-Cause it looks good.” Leon said, stepping closer to the stairs. While hiding your smile, you crept down to meet him, and you mentioned that the food smelled good to change the subject. You noticed a brown grocery bag on the counter, and your brow furrowed to wonder what else he had brought along.

Leon showed you a new bottle of wine he'd got for the two of you to share but there was something else in the bottom of the bag that looked to be wrapped the same as candy. You held it up to the light to inspect it closer as he seemed to stray away almost intentionally. He began to explain as your eyes narrowed in once the realization set in to what he had bought,

“That- I saw that and figured for dessert... we could share a little chocolate.” Leon said, trying not to sound mischievous, but a grin formed on his mouth playfully.

“Leon- did you seriously buy sex chocolate?” You asked while reading the wrapper plastered in hearts with aphrodisiac ingredients listed clearly on the nutrition label.

He giggled as he opened the wine to pour a glass for each of you and he shrugged, mentioning in a daring tone when he realized his mouth could be a little more dirty now that he didn't have to censor in the presence of the kids,

“I mean…we've never really planned to fuck before. It's always just happened.. So why not…go full throttle? Come on, it'll be fun. They only take an hour to kick in.”

He offered your glass of wine across the counter, watching you bend to his idea of fun on your night off. You took a cautious drink, knowing that the whole point of spontaneous sex was you didn't have to plan it and it was twice as rewarding because of that.

But scheduled sex that was almost guaranteed to be worth a damn….seemed fool proof.

“I know we don't really need it.”

“And, yeah, yeah-” Leon said with that facetious roll to his eyes,

You checked your watch, not telling him exactly why until after you opened the pack of chocolate. Two squares were kept inside the foil paper and you put one to your nose. It smelled like something close to normal chocolate and Leon began to inspect it too under the kitchen light.

“This should go good with that wine actually-” He mentioned before looking up in disbelief at what you were doing.

He saw you place one square into your mouth already, and you washed it down with a sip of wine somewhat fearlessly as he watched in awe. You looked up to him, watching his jaw drop in seeing that you had no more doubts about this, and you said with a purr as you sloshed the Cabernet in your glass,

“We got an hour to kill. You want to watch a movie?”

You were so unsure before these few minutes but now there wasn't a shadow of doubt. It made Leon smile widely while putting the other chocolate into his mouth with a wink to follow your lead,

“Yeah- I'll bring the wine.”

You sat on the couch together, but neither of your eyes were open long enough to even see what was on TV. Leon was nuzzled into your neck, kissing you warmly and much to your delight when you felt his tongue softly grazing.

Your leg rested over his lap, letting his hand knead against your thigh from beneath your dress as your eyes were closed in the bliss of what felt like foreplay. It hadn't felt like this since before the kids were even thought of. While you two were dating those years ago. He'd come to town after an assignment in DC and you'd find a hotel to sneak to for the night. It was always the highlight of your weekend and the way he kept you busy those nights were something you dreamed of anymore.

Gently, he laid you to the couch and your heart raced even more. You wanted to go upstairs but you couldn't move away from this. His hands cupped handfuls of your chest as he lied across you to kiss you. Your legs instinctually opened at the first surge of becoming turned on and his face softened when he felt you welcoming him in so close.

Before you could ask him if he kept any of his condoms down here, there was a noise from under the couch's throw pillow that made both of you jump. You were startled by the whirring and buzzing that was muffled from beneath you and Leon moved you slightly to find one of the baby's toys that had been lost within the couch cushions.

Together you both laughed softly and Leon mentioned in a mutter from above with a wink after you caught a breath,

“You wanna finish this upstairs? I think this chocolate's kicking in.”

“It's been fifteen minutes, Leon.” You mentioned playfully and he shrugged with a smile, asking why you two had to wait.

You agreed with a chuckle and followed him upstairs. Already, you found yourself softly stumbling from only one glass of wine but you knew you'd be plenty sober in just a few minutes. You noticed that he was stumbling as well and you laughed, teasing him for nudging the door frame as he slothed his way into the bedroom.

“Damn, I feel like I can hear the whole neighborhood.” Leon mentioned in a slur from the quiet as he began to undress.

You took the bottle of wine that he still carried and set it on your nightstand. You felt your head swimming re-entering your bathroom, he'd kissed off all of your lipstick as you noticed in the mirror but you stripped down to your underwear, letting your dress stay on the bathroom floor.

He watched you crawl into the bed nonchalantly as he sat on his side, unbuttoning his shirt. He chuckled when he found you snuggled up to your pillow as he crawled beneath the covers beside you.

Gently he pulled you to his lips again, wrapping you around him there in the dark as you both became slowly tangled on the bed. You felt your heart racing but there was this softness present now, one that you didn't feel downstairs on the couch.

You turned, laying him down with his back meeting the mattress and straddled his waist before leaning back down to his lips. His hands met your face, cupping under your jaw but you felt as his fingers then tangled into your hair so sweetly as he kissed you. This was the softness that felt so new.

Both of you became out of breath from the shared, elevated heart rate between you and Leon pulled away only for a moment to put your forehead against his. He knew too that any kind of touch or kiss hadn't felt like this in years and he muttered with that same intoxicated cadence that you found endearing,

“It feels good to just do this too.” He chuckled under his breath, letting his lips graze yours as he spoke,

“Are we that damn old now? Where getting off just to do it won't cut it anymore?”

After telling him you loved him, your eyes fluttered when he told you the same. He lied your head on his chest and together you both fell asleep just as you thought you would. Leon held you in your shared slumber that was broken hours later by your phone ringing.

Your mother had called to give you an update that they'd made it to the children's aunt's and tiredly you thanked her for the call, mentioning that Leon and yourself had gone to bed a little early after dinner. You told the children you loved them and missed them before hanging up.

Leon awoke hearing you talking to your mother and he rose on his side of the bed to ask if the kids were okay. You nodded but noticed him holding his head after he spoke.

“How the hell am I light headed with a splitting headache?” He asked in a groan but as soon as he became close, you felt something churn from inside you. It's like the scent of his cologne was almost overpowering but it was…nice?

You put your nose into his neck, smelling for which one of his usuals that he wore but you furrowed your brow with a deep inhale

“What cologne are you wearing, baby?”

You felt his skin shimmer with goosebumps strangely as your nose grazed him and he trembled,

“Jesus- baby, I'm not wearing cologne.”

You told him how good he smelled but then raised from the bed to open the bedside window since normally you both sleep with the fan on. Leon tried to look and see what time it was, but your silhouette in the dimly lit room made his eyes widen. You slightly leaned over your dresser to unlatch the window, and Leon watched as the curve of your ass shook as you reached forward.

He felt a twitch towards his navel and looked down below the covers to find out exactly why he was lightheaded.

There wasn't any blood flow and hadn't been. He was sporting an undeniable hard-on from the aphrodisiacs.

“Hey honey-” He said, trying not to sound alarmed that he was so hard that he couldn't think straight thanks to the chocolates that had kicked in during your small nap.

“What?”

“We're gonna need to keep that window closed tight.”

You turned around to snap heatedly that it was hot as hell up here but you saw that his eyes kept glancing down to his lap. You put the pieces together, looking at your phone to see what time it was but when you moved you felt a chill of cold air between your thighs. You were wet and your thighs were smeared with moisture from the arousal brought on by those damn chocolates.

Your eyes shot to Leon, who brought his hand up to show you the tremble in his fingers from being so turned on that he was shaking. You knew this was why you thought he smelt so good those moments ago, it was intrinsic like an instinct. Leon then reiterated with an urgency that begged you to get back in bed before he got up to do it himself,

“Close that window, or this whole damn neighborhood is gonna hear us instead.”

You slammed the window shut, thinking to yourself as your veins swelled with your racing heartbeat to know that you needed him so desperately. This might take all night and you had never been so thankful for falling asleep in all your life when you told him breathily,

“And to hell if they do.” 》

#leon kennedy au #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #x reader #reader insert

69 notes · View notes

procyonloser · 2 months ago

Text

Pt 9

Lucifer woke up to a slight jolt of the mattress, and jerked his head up, drool running down his cheek. Adam was starting to sit up in bed, and looked over at Lucifer apologetically.

"I have to work this morning, I gotta go to my place and get ready." Adam said, keeping his voice soft, judging by the light coming in the window, it was still fairly early. "Unless you have clothes that fit me, which I'm guessing you do not."

"You're eight feet tall, and I'm the size of a Dorito." Lucifer mumbled, making Adam laugh. He leaned in and kissed him, before getting out of bed, and Lucifer didn't mind the view one bit, even if it meant he was going to have to say goodbye to Adam for the rest of the day.

"Call me?" Lucifer asked, and Adam sent him a look.

"Duh," Adam said with some humor. "Let me know when you want to go to the observatory with Charlie, otherwise most my nights are open, except the days I teach shop class downtown."

Lucifer blinked at him. "Who are you? How many jobs do you have?"

"I'm Adam, bitch, and I have a single job... Just a handful of side hustles. I also teach guitar classes, but only in summer." Adam grinned down at him, before grabbing his clothes from the night before. "I used to have more, when I was avoiding going home."

"Ah, yes, I took a cheese making class once to avoid divorce stress, and I'm lactose intolerant." Lucifer sat up in bed, realizing that while he'd called in late for work today, he did still have to get up as well.

Adam snickered before pausing and looking at the door, before walking back over, getting on the bed, straddling Lucifer, and kissing his brains out, until they were practically leaking out of his head. "Okay," Adam said after a second, voice slightly hoarse. "See you later."

"Yeah," Lucifer breathed out, eyes fluttering. After Adam left, he flopped back down onto his bed, arms outstretched, a dumb smile on his face.

"Excuse me?" Lilith asked, voice slightly icy. It'd taken years for Lucifer to realize that when she said things like that, she wasn't actually asking for clarification or Lucifer to explain what he'd just said - she was more or less saying, 'what the fuck are you thinking?'

"I... What's wrong with that?" Lucifer asked nervously, eyes darting over to where Charlie was in the living room of his former home, kissing all her stuffed animals goodbye for the next few days. "You're dating, aren't you?"

"I'm not taking Charlie on dates with me! Not with some random strange man?" Lilith hissed, and on some level Lucifer understood her point, but Adam wasn't a stranger. Well, he did seemingly drop a new job on him every time they met, but not like that.

"Adam works with kids, he's met Charlie repeatedly already at the aquarium, and he's just trying to schedule dates so I don't have to miss out on seeing Charlie or him. That's not weird? Is it?" Lucifer asked, confusion setting in. He didn't like it when she talked like he was incapable of understanding things.

"Lucifer-" Lilith said, only to get cut off my Charlie running in with her bag, hugging Lucifer's leg.

"I'm ready!" She said cheerfully, laughing as Lucifer picked her up, hugging her tightly.

"Okay, let's go! We're going to have a great weekend, right?!"

"Yeah!" Charlie cheered, and Lilith made a face, but didn't say anything else besides one last,

"Be careful."

"He's not dangerous," Lucifer said softly, and Lilith shook her head.

"You're falling too fast, Lucifer. More than just you will be hurt if this doesn't work out, if you involve Charlie. What happens if you break up, will you still go to the aquarium? The zoo?"

Lucifer was quiet, he didn't know. He wouldn't avoid it intentionally, but it would hurt to see Adam again if they did. She was right, he did fall hard and fast for people, but he felt like maybe Adam did too.

"Hey Charlie, you want to go see the stars tonight?" Lucifer asked, turning away from Lilith. He was going to choose to hope for the best.

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #aquarium au

34 notes · View notes

itadorist · 2 years ago

Text

—𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄. ❀

warnings - Angst, arguements. mentions of abandonment, cursing. Angst breakup. Nagi written in a bad light. Angst to fluff. Happy ending (for you). Just a warning, this fic is kinda lengthy.

· · · · ➪ Nagi seishiro has to choose between an eternity with you or a small scrap of Fame. He makes a choice and Reo helps him live to regret it.

“Your kidding.” You asked, aghastly. You sat there at your dinner table with your fiance. “Your fucking kidding, right Nagi??” you repeated again when you don't get a response from Seishiro. Nothing but a unimpressed look, his lips curled into a thin frown that awfully matched his low-lidded eyes.

You can't help but let out a pitiful laugh when you come to the realization that he wasn't kidding. “So, that's it? we've been together for 3 years, and 5 months and you're going to throw all of that out of the window? For a fucking sport.” You sneered at him, your words contaminated with such pure anger that you could be considered hostile.

“i thought you'd be happy for me.” Nagi replied, stolidly. He sat his fork down and positioned his attention back onto you. “Fuckin' hell. Happy for you??” You grimace at his statement. “My supposed-to-be future husband is leaving me. What about that should i be fucking happy about??” The volume of your voice had amplified at the sheer audacity Nagi had.

“You said that if i decided to chase my goals then you'd support me.” He scoffed, narrowing his eyes and Crinkling his eyebrows at your melodramatic outburst.

“Because i didn't think that you'd leave me behind to chase after them! Do you even hear yourself?? Why are you so fucking nonchalant about this?” You asked. Nagi heard the way your words wavered shakily, he could hear the fear and heartbreak setting in.

You saw his decision as Cold-hearted and selfish, the fact he didn't even show a sense of sadness about the whole situation is what hurt you the most.

But Nagi wasn't apathetic, not nearly. No, he was simply stoic. He saw how his sudden decision had truly hurt you, and he did feel guilt and remorse for it because stoicism wasn't feeling guiltless. it was feeling guilt and being able to hide it, a strong sense of self-control. “Because I'm certain that this is the right choice. You know that i love you. i love you so much but i can't balance out my career and our marriage...” He affirmed, confidently.

You didn't respond. You felt your words get caught in the back of your throat, Tears forming on your lower lashes. You couldn't believe your ears, you couldn't believe nor imagine the day that your future husband would choose his career over you.

The realization of this wasn't bearable. You sat there in silence and simply stared at your fiance. He's not oblivious, he can see the pain and heartache reflecting in your eyes. "Nagi..." You desperately rasped as you felt the urge to sob loudly, clawing at your throat.

an infinity of silence had passed before you snapped out of your thoughts when you noticed Nagi stand from his chair. You spared him any questions on his intentions when he rounded the table and moved towards you.

“Stand up.” were his only words. You wiped your tears away with your sleeves and stood as he'd asked, the last thing you expected him to do was pull you into a warm embrace. tightly hugging you close to him. “I'm sorry, baby.” he murmured, planting a soft kiss onto the shell of your ear. “I'd never intentionally hurt you, but i don't think i can keep struggling to balance out two things i love.” He said, softly.

You didn't bother to hug him back. Fuck, he didn't deserve any responding affection. "So, when?" you asked, pushing him away from you. an act of rightful bitterness, he just blatantly told you he was choosing his friends and career over you.

You had ever right to withhold yourself. "When do you plan on leaving?" You questioned him, irritably.

"Saturday of next week. if i manage to move out soon enough, isagi said that I'd be able to move in with him." Although he was a bit hurt by your denial of his loving gesture, he partly knew you had the right away.

"i know your hurt but if it's alright could we finish dinner? it might be one of the last memories I'll have with you." Nagi justified, placing himself back into the chair he sat at a few moments ago.

You considered it. You considering that maybe if you did everything he asked, said everything he wanted to hear that maybe he'd change his mind. a grim and painful sense of contempt shot through your body at that ridiculous thought. it coursed through your veins like cocaine.

You couldn't respond― no, wouldn't respond sensibly. You refused to be nice to the same man who thought that kicking a ball around was more important than you.

"Fuck you, Nagi." You sneer angrily. "if you think that we can just go back to eating as if nothing happened then you thought wrong."

Nagi didn't respond, neither did he try and stop you from leaving the kitchen. He sat there and ate alone that night, evaluating if his decision was a good one but no matter how logically he attempted to look at it, his heart longed for the feeling of freedom.

The raw rush of adrenaline that came from running across that huge field, the feeling of the entire stadium looking at him and calling out his name as if he were they're saviour. it was then that as he put his plate into the sink, he felt his mind give him the ambivalent consolation that leaving you will be a brave and righteous thing.

Nagi slept on the couch that night, and going forward. He didn't necessarily want too but after he broke the news to you, he never felt as welcomed into the bedroom as he used too. He'd try to hold you, kiss you and yet you never indulged in the romantic gestures like you did before. You'd ignore him, or push him away. You gave him nothing as punishment for taking away everything.

Everyday felt like a heartache. your relationship managed to dull out within a few days. it felt like a married old couple who were waiting for they're divorce to settle. But nothing prepared you for the day to actually come.

You sat there on the couch, watching Nagi handle his taped boxes, a contempt frown plastered on your face. it'd only been two weeks so logically you weren't over this sudden change. “Here, take this one. I'll carry the other two.” you heard Nagi's voice echo from the kitchen. oh, that's right. Reo is here.

Mikage reo, Your ex-fiance's best friend. It made sense that out of everyone, reo was the first person he'd call to help. Although this was such a grim and glum moment in your life, the random exchanges of conversation reo would gift you while grabbing boxes had admittedly dampened the anguish and bitterly feeling that settled in the pit of your heart.

Sometimes, you couldn't help the slight twitch of your lips when he'd crack a pitiful joke. But it was never enough to actually make you smile, and why would it? this was one of the worst days of your life. But you deeply appreciated the attempts reo had made.

“Stay here, I'm gonna take these over to isagi's house.” Seishiro exclaimed, dryly. He grabbed the car keys from off the counter. “Then I'll come back for the last four.” he informed, looking at reo who had taken a seat next to you on the couch. “alright, I'll sit here and rest for a bit!” Reo stretched, carefully not to accidentally hit you.

Nagi hummed in recognition before leaving. Only after a few minutes of Nagi's absence did reo finally stir up the courage to speak too you. “Hey.” He coo'd, successfully catching your attention. Your eyes meeting Reo's sympathetic purple ones.

“I'm sorry about what my friend is putting you through. Man, i know how painful it must be.” He sympathized, turning his body to face you. You couldn't help but hear him out. “Do you?” You asked, piqued.

“Yeah.” Reo replied, diffended. “When we were teenagers, Nagi left my side to be on isagi's side.” Despite the friendly smile on his face, there was a sort of bitterness deep in the crevices of his words. Almost as if he wasn't entirely over the whole ordeal.

“He wanted to win so badly. He didn't even hesitate to walk away.” Reo sighed. “He probably doesn't think about it as much as i still do but ...” He hadn't even realized that the smile he wore a second ago had formed into a conflicted frown. “I'm sorry that happened to you, Reo.” You spoke up, pulling him from his thoughts.

“if that's the case, then I'm sure you can imagine how awful it feels for me now.” You muttered, looking at the ground. “Yeah, i can.” Mikage replied.

There was a deep silence. The type where you could tell both parties that built the conversation were equally in deep thought.

“Do you think ... maybe i did something?” You sudden asked, to the man's dismay. “Huh?” He responded, curiously. “Could you elaborate?” he asked. Reo wasn't an idiot, he knew what you meant and this feeling of self-doubt that you gave off had felt all-too-familiar.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself. “i mean like, do you think i might've did something that Nagi didn't seem to like and that's what made him choose Soccer?” You quizzed, nervously.

“i can't answer that.” He admitted, but immediately regret it when he saw your crestfallen expression. “He told me about his plan on divorcing you, earlier on. I tried to convince him not to do it.” He added.

You hadn't replied to Reo, which gave him the space to continue talking. “y'know...” he cleared his throat. There was a long moment of comforting silence before Reo spoke again.

“I'd never abandon you the way he did." those words reeled you in, you look over at Reo with a intrigued look. “What kind of person leaves the love of their life for a sport.” he muttered. His words left a strange sensation in your chest, you couldn't quite pick at what it was, but you felt like you knew what he was about to say.

in any other case, if you and Seishiro were still fiances then you would've stopped Reo in his tracks.

“What are you saying?” You questioned in a curious tone. You knew what he was saying, but you wanted to hear Reo confirm it by himself. “I'm saying that Nagi is making such a huge mistake.” He replied, frustrated.

“he's my best friend. i want nothing but for him to be happy. But the fact being happy means discarding someone so...” Reo paused for a moment.

“So?” You encouraged him to finish his sentence. “So ..Perfect.” Reo concluded. You couldn't withhold the feeling of your heart fluttering in your chest at his words. The way he spoke to you with such delicacy and warmth. You couldn't think of him as anything but sincere.

“Perfect?” You repeated, in disbelief.

“Perfect.” He'd confirmed, inching closer to you. out of respect, he waited a moment and glanced at your reaction. once he saw no hints of uncomfort, he proceeded to keep speaking.

“I know your probably too shocked to reply, I mean I wouldn't blame you. Your ex-fiance's best friend is confessing to you.” Reo couldn't suppress his Nervous laughter when he saw your surprised expression. “But I really do think your perfect.” He sighed.

“And ... How long did you think I was perfect..?” You asked, you couldn't help the small dosage of curiosity that you felt.

“Since I'd first met you.” he replied. “i didn't say anything at first because you and Nagi were so in love.” Reo said. “I—I wanted to tell you, but I didn't wanna hurt Nagi or make our relationship weird because I attempted to come onto his lover.” He justified. His excuse made sense, it would've been wrong if he tried to convince you to date him when you and Nagi were still together.

“But if I would've know that he'd end up hurting you.” he halted his sentence, his deep lavender gaze connecting with yours. “i would've stolen you a long time ago.” Mikage affirmed emphatically.

You could feel you heart pounding at his words, strongly. The thought that all this time, for the past 3 years, Reo was madly lovesick for you. Something about knowing this made you feel delighted.

After a considerable amount of silence, time to think on what your response to all of this abrupt and unforseen information would be, and within a moment you knew what you wanted to say.

“You told me that Nagi and me being in a relationship stopped you, right?" You asked, Your question being answered when Reo nodded solemnly. “But— .. what's stopping you now?” You asked, boldly. Your words admittedly took him by surprise, never did he expect that you'd accept his confession, much less, encourage it.

He took in your question, giving it a moment of thought, he realized you were right. Nagi had practically thrown you aside for the sake of his career. Which means you weren't seeing anyone, and that realization gave him a substantially Marvelous sense of Buoyancy.

“Absolutely nothing.” He replied, sanguinely.

Subsequently after estimated 35 minutes, Nagi had returned to collect his last few boxes. Blissfully unaware of your imminently established relationship with Reo. The way Reo was able to function so casually around Nagi was almost astonishing. smiling as if he didn't just propose a new relationship with his childhood friend's ex-fiance.

That month was full of unexpected events, things that you'd never seen coming. Although you were still faintly offended and hurt by Nagi's decision, something about being with Reo substantially dulled that trivial feeling of abandonment.

You never wanted to compare anyone, but you couldn't help but notice that Reo was furthermore blithesome and open-minded than Nagi when it came to your relationship. Supposedly it was because he didn't have a trait of laziness like Nagi did, or maybe it was due to his constant consideration for your feelings and how he'd consult you before making any big or rash decisions.

Whatever it was, it kept you chained to him. During Your Drive to go and pick Reo up, you came to a sudden comprehension that you were possibly indulging in this relationship with Reo far more than you were with the one you had with Nagi. You were happier.

You and Reo agreed to keep your relationship hidden from Nagi for a lengthy amount of time. Until the residues of the dissolving love he had for you were flushed from his mind. Of course, when it was revealed years later, it was a slip-up on Reo's part.

After the ending of a soccer match against a competing team, Reo and Nagi's Team had managed to win, almost effortlessly. No matter how accustomed Reo was too winning, managing to do it again always gave him an ardent feeling of exhilaration.

So when you were standing outside the arena, waiting for him to come out so you could take him home, he managed to greet you in such a beauteous way. a energetic kiss and a hug, you couldn't do anything but laugh at his victorious grin. “I'm assuming you won, again. Tell me about it.” You invited sweetly. Your common interest in his day was like being wrapped in saccharine.

So enraptured with your daily reunion with Reo, you both hadn't noticed Nagi watching with aghast, while his other teammates passed him, leaving. He'd seen the way Reo almost knocked you over with how energetic he was to see you, and how tightly he held your waist. How close you were.

Something about this scene of the two of you being so affection with each other triggered a melancholic jealousy, and for a moment he'd planned to say something, until he felt his mind go back to the day he'd stepped away from you for his career.

Nagi knew that was his moral compass reminding him that Reo dating you was completely fair, especially since you and Nagi were officially divorced.

it wasn't like you were cheating on him, but even then as he watching Reo babble on about how he dominated the field, and watched how you lovingly took in ever single detail Reo spouted, he couldn't help but begin to regret his decision.

Attempting to get you back was out of the question, It would involve betraying Reo. He'd already hurt Reo before in the past, and he promised himself he wouldn't do it again.

So all he could do was sit on the sidelines and watch Mikage love you in a way he wouldn't.

Xyhoo· · · · ✦ ― do not copy, modify, sell, or repost any of my work on any platform, or claim it as yours. 02/19/2023. ― 11:23 AM.

Tags: @shoyoist @the-pyro-archon @suchatwistedaddiction @kittykittycore

522 notes · View notes

borderlinereminders · 6 months ago

Note

greetings! so i got into an disagreement(?) with a coworker last week. i made a comment that my coworker didn't like, it made her uncomfortable so she went to my manager. the manager told me i owe her an apology, but it was a... sensitive topic to say the least and i wasn't prepared for my manager to know about it. i spiraled bad that day, i was sobbing, etc. a couple days later i came into work and talked to my coworker to apologize, and she said that it's just that she (and everyone else as she put it) can't tell me anything without me spiraling and crying. she said that it's just really manipulative. that made me feel awful, so i took space in the breakroom and cried a whole lot. i did at least finish my shift that day but i really do feel awful about it. i guess my question is, how do i *not* manipulate people? i got diagnosed with bpd a few years ago, and i thought i was managing pretty okay but now symptoms are rearing their heads. i don't intend to cry, it just happens. is it my fault that people feel a type of way about it? i try to take space to avoid damaging other people but i guess it's not enough, idk, any advice would be appreciated, thank you <3

Hi anon,

There’s a major difference between someone who intentionally cries to get out of trouble or get attention versus crying because your feelings are overwhelming.

I think you need to be careful not to fall into what a lot of us with BPD fall into… and that’s we have unrealistic expectations of ourselves. We expect ourselves not to do things that people without BPD do. Like getting upset, or having a bad day. We expect ourselves to be more perfect than people without BPD. They’re allowed to have bad days, cry, or otherwise get upset. But we hold ourselves to unrealistic standards as to not “be BPD”.

I don’t know the situation, but I don’t think that was fair of your coworker. It’s on her to manage her feelings, and if she’s feeling a type of way because you’re having a very normal emotional response, that’s on her. Not you.

It would be different if you were trying to use crying to get your way, but you aren’t. Crying is normal. It happens. And I’m sorry you’ve been made to feel you’re wrong for having these reactions.

While she’s valid to be upset about a comment, you’re valid to be upset too. I don’t know what the comment was but I’d be upset because I’d feel “in trouble” and that would set off an anxiety attack for me. Maybe she did deserve an apology. I wasn’t there. I can’t say. But even if she did, I don’t think it was fair of her to call you manipulative for having your own feelings.

I do understand the importance of trying to get through work though. I sometimes use crisis skills to get through things like work so I can properly deal with my emotions later. In my pinned post, there’s a link to my FAQ with a link to DBT skills. The ones I recommend for getting through situations are tolerance skills. Just please remember these aren’t meant to bury your emotions. They’re meant to help you in the moment. Things like grounding techniques especially might be useful.

The other skills might be useful when you’re ready, too. Things like communication ones and ones and ones that might help with emotional regulation because while your feelings are valid, it might help prevent spiralling and being able to handle them in ways that are better for you.

#April answers

28 notes · View notes

allwormdiet · 5 months ago

Text

Shell 4.3

In which we finally discuss the locker

Little surprised that Alec is taking the lead on this one, but pleasantly so

And yeah, here we finally get an explanation for powers and triggers and all that, or at least the foundations of it

...Also there's no way that Glory Girl triggered just because of a basketball game, that has to be a crock of shit. What's up with New Wave claiming to be the most open hero team and then coming off the shadiest? How am I trusting these people less than I trust the government capes?

I like that they make a point of reassuring her after her blunder. She couldn't have known, and they know that, and they don't hold it against her. I love these kids.

Brian seems more comfortable smacking Alec around than he does Rachel. I don't think that's a thing of not wanting to hit women, last arc he decked Vista like she owed him money. Maybe it's that Rachel intentionally provokes that reaction and Alec is just kind of a little shit? Idk

Again, I remain utterly fixated on how this is Taylor's one line, the thing she refuses to compromise on ever. I'll buy that she doesn't want outside interference from the Undersiders or other capes when it comes to the bully situation, but it's harder to do that when she never makes a move herself.

This is so. Evil. Like, the false friendship, the rotting tampons, the imprisonment. The fact that nobody who sees this play out even bothers to help her. The fact that she's trapped for hours. If that didn't give someone a trigger event, I'm not sure anything would.

Alec is actually so real for this. Like for all that he was disgusted with the story (which, fair) his disgust isn't with Taylor, it's with the fuckers who did that to her. And Brian agrees with him! Lisa is making a point of not disagreeing, even.

Oh hey, Taylor actually acknowledges her thing with anger and violent retribution. Glad she's cognizant of that, it'd be a whole situation if she wasn't tbh

Actually thank god for Alec keeping up this line of thinking, this might be the most passionate we've seen him get about anything. The runner up is like, him being annoyed he can't keep Kid Win's skateboard, and that's peanuts compared to this. Maybe he's wrong about the revenge thing but I don't know that he is, and he's definitely not wrong about the indignity that Taylor is allowing herself to suffer

I don't think this is half the lie that Taylor thinks it is. For all that she has noble intentions, and I don't doubt she'll do her best with those... I don't think Taylor's drive to be a superhero was entirely selfless. This isn't all truth and justice going on here, this is feeling strong and being appreciated by others and not being looked at like a bottom-feeder.

Wonder when she'll figure that out for herself

Get cared about idiot! Get absolutely blanketed with affection and approval from the people who would absolutely rip your bullies apart if you asked them to!

You know. I think Brian's trigger event is one of the ones I know the least about? I know the broad strokes of almost every other Undersider, but I don't think I know anything about his.

Current Thoughts

Even knowing what's coming, reading through Taylor's ordeal with the locker is so fucking heartbreaking. She could've died in there and the consolation prize she got was not worth the cost of admission, that's for damn sure. Emma Barnes is a fucking maniac for this one.

The stuff about powers and trigger events is a pretty neat concept, and I like how it kind of contextualizes most capes as being fucked up. Like, I'm thirteen years late to the party on this one, but what a fascinating fucking idea to build your superhero setting on.

Alec really shone through for me in this chapter. Maybe I relate as someone who finds it easier to get angry on others' behalf than to be angry for myself, or maybe it's just nice to see him get fired up about something. I like this kid.

...Got work and a family thing today, but I'll see if I can't slip some more updates in. I'll probably read some at least and double back with my thoughts if nothing else

#parahumans #worm liveblogging #liveblog #worm shell #wormblr

23 notes · View notes

teamfreewill2pointo · 3 months ago

Note

Hmm...I wonder if the failure of the spin offs is because of the lack of J2 or just lack of the dynamic duo Sam and Dean. I can see in a few years maybe Supernatural might get a remake, especially because in the last several years studios have been enjoying remaking and or rebooting existing IPs (probably because it's easier then paying someone for an original concept lol). Also I think if a hypothetical reboot explicitly confirmed and catered to Destiel it would do a lot better then the other spin offs by miles. Although I'm not sure how J2 would feel about a scenario where randoms took over Sam and Dean though 😅

Anon 2: If Warner Brothers did a total reboot I think it would be successful if it included: The brothers together (duh) Hot younger actors Confirmed bi Dean Strong possibility (if not definite) Dean/Castiel The SPN writers were always tuned into the fandom and if someone decided to make a new SPN it's not unlikely they'd take note as well. Plus attitudes towards portraying queer romances in media are a lot different now then the 00's. Also I think the spin offs were set up to fail, not intentionally, but regardless if Jared and Jensen were in them they would've still failed. The Winchesters was firstly about characters the audience wasn't particularly invested in (especially considering the amount of other characters there are in SPN) but secondly we already know the entire story of John and Mary in detail from 15 seasons of SPN. Wayward Sisters needed more fleshing out before they tried launching it by itself, it come off as haphazard. Neither of these things would of been fixed if both Jared and Jensen had been involved. I think whatever Jared and Jensen do together with SPN going forward will likely do better, less so because it has to have both of them or it will flop, but because they will actally take their time and not rush it (unlike Wayward Sisters) and it will be a story we haven't heard and seen before in SPN (unlike The Winchesters). SPN could easily be a franchise without relying on Sam and Dean but the only time when Warner Brothers or whoever is running things, actually puts in the time and effort for a decent story it's for Jared and Jensen. If that same time and effort was extended for a complete SPN reboot or even other character spin offs, I think it would work, no Jared and Jensen needed. That said don't think a complete SPN reboot is even getting thought by anybody, not for like, at least a decade... or whenever Warner Brothers get to a point they are desperate for ideas.

A huge portion of the GA is conservatives and the country is growing more conservative in general, so I don't think confirming or catering to Destiel would help the chances of a spinoff, but rather the opposite.

Supernatural is an IP that makes a lot of money and I hear the problem isn't WBD, which would be more than happy for a reboot.

#supernatural #spn #spn revival #spn reboot #reboot #revival

16 notes · View notes

dragon-kazansky · 1 year ago

Text

Spirit of the sea

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

You were a member of Blackbeard's crew long ago. Then you became a ghost story. Izzy Hands only sees you in his dreams these days, until he sees you for real when investigating Stede Bonnet. This sets him on a rollercoaster of emotions between you and what his captain is doing.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: Not much Izzy and Reader interaction, because, ya know. However, you will be bonding with some of the crew, so yay!

Chapter Six - Out in the open

♡♡♡

You didn't sleep at all. Neither did Izzy by the sounds of it. He spent the rest of the night clearing out his cabin and packing what little he had.

As the sun began to rise and the darkness faded, you stood beside Edward looking down at the dingy below. Izzy was standing in it looking up at you.

Your expression was cold. The light in your eyes was gone, he noticed. Izzy could sense your pain from this.

It hurt him too. To leave you behind was not his plan, but you refused to come with him, he wasn't going to force you. If only he could look you in the eye and be honest with you.

"So, is this it then?" Izzy asks Blackbeard.

"You shouldn't have duelled him, Iz! We could've worked this out."

"You will rue this day, Edward. You will rue it long, and you will rue it hard."

Roach comes up beside you with a smile. "Hey. Made you a sandwich for the trip."

You take the sandwich from his hand and look down at Izzy. It's going to seem childish, bit at least you can get one last insult in. You throw the wrapped sandwich at Izzy with no intention of him being able to catch it. Instead it hits him in the head and bounces into the ocean.

Izzy stares up at you. You ignore the way Edward is side eyeing you too.

"I would've eaten that," Ivan says.

"A fucking pox on all of you!" Izzy growls.

"Well, that's that," Edward grumbles, walking away. Ivan soon follows him. You remain standing at the railing with Roach, watching Izzy sit in the boat and row away.

"Not for nothing, but that guy really is a dick, huh?" Roach says.

You sigh softly, letting Roach leave.

"But he was our dick..."

♡♡♡

Lucius hands his severed finger over to Fang. You watch from the other side of the ship as they throw it into the water.

You were amazed to find out that Lucius cut off his own finger in a moment of hysteria during last night's fuckery. It was disgusting, but also kind of impressive.

Pete had whittled him a wooden one to wear, so all was good in the end.

You walk last Stede to go sulk for a while. He is still stabbed into the mast.

"You alright?"

"I'd very much like it out," he says, looking a little worse for wear now. He'd been there most of the night at this point.

"I'll go get someone."

"Thank you." He sounds rather appreciative. You carry on walking.

As you go below deck, Edward is waiting for you. You smile as you go to pass him, but he holds up his hand, stopping you. You take a step back and look up at your captain.

"He didn't stay."

You didn't have to do much thinking to understand what he meant. "No. He didn't."

"Did you talk to him?" Edward asks.

"Course I did. You know I did."

"And still he left..."

"Ed, I can't force Izzy to do anything. You know him better than I do. You what he's like."

"Nah. You know him better than anyone," Ed says to you. "I figured he would fold if you spoke to him. Assumed you would be his reason to stay, even after that duel."

"Why? It's probably for the best. I unintentionally left you all behind 6 years ago. He's intentionally leaving us. Let the man do what he wants," you sigh.

"You left him 6 years ago." Edward looks at you with stern eyes, his head tilted forward slightly.

"Huh?"

"Nevermind." Edward walks away leaving you confused and dazed.

♡♡♡

A couple days pass. Edward and Stede grow closer and closer. Edward has been a little down about Izzy leaving, but Stede always know what to say or day to bring his mood back up again.

You, however, feel like a piece of you is missing. From the moment Izzy left, the ship has felt incomplete.

You have spent the last couple nights in, what was, Izzy's cabin. He had taken the few thing he owned with him. You sat on the bed and stared at the empty desk. The little wooden sparrow was gone. He had taken it with him. You're not sure what to do with that information, but it was comforting in a way.

Still, there wasn't anything left behind for you to hold onto.

Roach rushes past the door as you're sulking. You look up just in time to catch him flee past. Figuring there is no use in depressing yourself over the loss of your friend, you decide to go figure out what that was all about.

Turns out there are no oranges onboard. Oh, and the Swede has scurvy.

Roach had used most of them for a fucking cake that Stede had asked for. You stare at the gentleman pirate in disbelief.

"You had him make you a cake?"

"It hardly tasted of oranges." Stede says. Roach looks offended.

"So it was a waste." You sigh.

"Well, not completely. I still ate it."

"Either way, we need more oranges."

The crew start fussing as the topic of the Swede having scurvy come up again. You let out a long sigh as you look at this group.

"Let's just accept the fact that, due to Roach's immorderate use of the citrus, we now have to go grocery shopping."

Roach scoffs.

"St Augustine's full of oranges, and we're right near there," Frenchie says.

"Oh! Anything exciting to do there? Maybe something that might impress a world-weary, adventuring type?" Stede asks.

"No! It's boring and awful, and the humidity? Do you understand what that'll do to your hair?" Jim says, standing up.

"So?" Olu asks. Jim walks off.

"I'll wear a hat," Stede says proudly.

"Anyone else's fingernails falling off?" The Swede asks. You groan and leave with the rest of the crew.

♡♡♡

Stede had gone to St Augustine with Lucius. You remained on the ship with the crew. You were sitting in the captain's quarters with Edward. You were stretched out on one of the couches, a book in your hand. Edward was examining one of Stede's robes.

"Are you missing him?" Ed asks.

"Hm? Who?" You ask, not looking up from the book. It was a page on the legend of Blackbeard. You were fascinated by the way people viewed the man in front of you.

"Izzy."

"Oh." You still don't look up from the book.

Edward looks over at you. You had become a lot quieter since Izzy left. "You've been sleeping in his cabin. I've seen you."

"The room's available now. Might as well make use of it."

"Right. Yeah. Sure." Edward says, not so convincingly. He walks over to the coach you're perched on and plants his hands firmly on it, looking down at you.

"I'm fine, Edward."

"You don't look fine. What are you reading anyway?"

You snap the book shut and look up at him. "Just a book!"

"Alright. No need to get antsy."

"I'm sorry," you sigh. "I'm just worried."

"About Izzy?" He asks.

"Yeah. When I left, it was unintentional. I literally couldn't get back to you. He left because of some stupid duel and wouldn't stay when I asked. He would rather honour dueling rules than..." You gasp for breath. "Than stay with me."

Ed places a hand on your shoulder. "Mate..."

You shrug his hand off. "Forget it. I'm being stupid. I just... I just thought Izzy was my friend."

"Yeah, me too, mate."

However, Edward wanted to say more. It just didn't look like the best time. The moment is broken by Stede strutting in with Lucius behind him. He's waving something around in his hand.

"Look at what I got!"

Edward leaves your side to go peer at the item Stede was gushing about. Lucius sends you a look that tells you he was mentally drained. You chuckle softly.

"A treasure map!"

You and Edward share a look.

"Read it and weep, my friend. Adventure awaits."

"Look, mate, I hate to be a downer, but people just don't bury treasure. It's just not done." Ed explains to him.

"Well, why make a map?" Stede asks.

"He's saying the map's not real," Lucius chimes in.

"Yeah, the whole burying treasure thing is just a tale," you add in.

"What? Course it's real! Look at it. Tatty edges. It's burnt. It's been around, it's seen things."

"You got scammed for money," you say plainly.

"If it were real, why would she have sold it to you?" Ed asks. You nod. "Why not keep the map herself, and find the treasure herself?"

"Oh, Strong question. Love that." Lucius says.

"Scam," you add in again.

"Maybe she's just lazy. I mean, she works down at the docks selling maps, for God's sake."

"Best of luck to you, mate. I'm taking a nap." Ed slumps down on the coach you're on and plants his legs over your lap. You glare at him softly.

"Last I heard, a ship only has one captain, and the captain of this vessel says, 'On your feet!' We're having a day." Stede says standing up. "Once I've changed."

Stede leaves to get dressed. You turn your head to Edward.

"Now you have to go."

"If I'm going, you're coming with me," he says, giving you a light glare.

"Fuck that."

"I'm your captain. Orders are orders."

You stare at him in disbelief. "Oh, that's mean."

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face.

♡♡♡

Within the hour Stede had changed into more 'appropriate' attire and you all went ashore. You continued to give Blackbeard a death stare as he rowed the boat over. He just grinned back at you.

However, once on land, he became self conscious about his very being getting caught on the island. After all, people know of Blackbeard. Scary murderous pirate can't be caught treasure hunting of all things.

You found amusement in this.

"So, we're either here, or possibly here." Stede says, looking at his map. You were walking on one side of him, Lucius on the other. Ed was on the other end.

Edward was trying to hide his face every time he walked past someone.

"Why are you hiding you face?"

"He's freakin' Blackbeard. He can't be caught treasure hunting," you say, returning the shit-eatkng grin back to your captain.

"We're in the middle of nowhere. No one's gonna recognise you." Stede says, looking at Ed.

"Hey, Blackbeard! Treasure hunting!" A resident calls out. You give Stede a deadpan look.

Edward threatens the man. "Shut the fuck up, OK? I'm not Blackbeard. Fuck off, get outta here! Move."

The man hurries off.

"Right, Ed, you go stand over there under that tree, and Stede, you figure out which way you wanna go, okay?" You say, taking matters into your own hands.

Edward walks off to hide under the tree.

"Now look, we're going to have fun today, and that's an order," Stede states firmly.

"You can't really order people to have fun, but..."

"Well, I just did. Guys like Blackbeard, they live for adventure. It's like nourishment for them. So we're going to have an extremely fun, memorable, deeply cool adventure.".

You can't fight back the smile from listening to Stede. Was he trying to impress Blackbeard? Okay, that's cute. He's being cute.

"Now, do I have your support on that?" Stede asks Lucius.

"Yeah, OK."

♡♡♡

Stede takes the lead. You walk with Edward behind him a little ways. Lucius is following behind you both.

Edward seems to be slowly growing more agitated the further this goes on. He swatting violently at the flies buzzing around your heads. You have to duck a few times to avoid getting a snack across the head.

"Well this is fun," you mutter.

"Shut up," Ed spits out, clearly not having fun.

"Might as well make the most of it. We're both stuck here."

Edward sighs and glares at you. "Stupid treasure hunting."

"I say let Stede have his silly fun."

"Would you have agreed to do this if it was Izzy?"

"Izzy wouldn't be caught dead treasure hunting," you say. "He'd have killed the man who dared ask him to."

Blackbeard swats away more flies. "You still upset about Izzy?"

"You mean since we spoke about him last like 2 hours ago? Yes, Edward. I'm still upset the bastard left."

"Sensing quite a bit of tension here," Lucius says, coming up beside you. You roll your eyes. "What's the deal with dizzy Izzy anyway?"

"It's just Izzy," you warn him. "Izzy is... was, my friend."

"Doesn't seem like the type to have friends."

"Hey, he's my friend too," Ed says.

"Is he though?" You ask, looking at Ed.

"What does that mean?"

"Izzy had been trying to talk to you for days, and all you did was brush him aside to go hang out with Stede. You didn't even stop to hear him out."

"I knew what it was about."

"Still, you didn't stop to listen," you say, watching where you were stepping.

"It amazes he even has friends," Lucius says. You glare at him. "I just mean... he was very intense."

"Yeah, well, that's just Izzy."

"Kinda cute really."

"What is?" You ask, eyeing him.

"How much you care for the bastard."

"Shut up."

Edward swats away more flies. Stede had gone on so far ahead, you had lost sight of him.

"Fuck off, flies!" Edward yells.

"They're not that bad. They really a full of blood, though, aren't they? Like little flying grapes." Lucius comments. One then flies into his mouth and he starts choking. "I think I just swallowed one!"

"At least you got lunch. I'm fuckin' starving." Edward sighs.

"Guys! Come quick! I've found something!" Stede calls out.

"Thank God," you mutter, hoping he had found his treasure and you could all go back to the ship.

Stede turns around with an insect resting on his finger. You groan quietly.

"Dryocampa rubicunda, or the candied melon silk moth. A very rare specimen. See? We're already finding stuff."

"Great, you found a bug. Cheers." Edward is less than impressed.

"And who says treasure maps are useless?" Lucius says. You all turn to look at him. "I wasn't being sarcastic, that's just how I talk."

"Laugh at you want, but without the map, we wouldn't have found this little guy, so it's already paying dividends." Stede remains positive.

"Suppose it is pretty interesting, for an insect." Ed says, looking back at the moth. He the goes back to fighting flies. "Fuck this. I'm going back to the ship."

As Edward marches away, you follow after him.

"Oh, come on! We're having fun! You know what your problem is? You just have no idea how to relax!" Stede calls out. "Does he Lucius?"

"I mean, you are kind of intense, like... all of the time," Lucius says.

That's 2 people he has now described as intense.

"It's a running theme with Blackbeard," you say mindlessly.

"You're not intense." Lucius looks at you.

"Give me time."

"I know how to relax." Edward leans against a tree. "See? I'm actually quite relaxed right now."

A snake falls from the tree into Ed's open arms and he starts to fight it, smacking it onto the ground and then stabbing it violently. "Die!"

"According to the map, there are snakes in this area." Stede stands there, looking at Edward. "So, just be careful."

You run a hand down your face and sigh deeply.

♡♡♡

The snake becomes lunch. You set up a campfire and Ed cooks the snake. You sit on the ground beside Lucius while the two captain share a log.

"Is this what Blackbeard is usually like?" Lucius asks you.

"It's how I remember him. But he softened up a lot since Stede it seems..."

You both gaze at the captain's. They're babbling on about Ed having a restaurant where he could serve snake and have a gift shop. You wonder how it came to this point.

"Must have been impressive sailing on his crew." Lucius takes a bite of his snake.

"Yeah. They were good old days."

"What was it like?"

"Probably about what you expect from the stories, to be honest. A lot of raiding and death. But we were also close as a crew. Kind of. Blackbeard as our captain, Izzy doing every little thing that was asked of him. Fang and Ivan working their asses off to please both Izzy and Blackbeard."

"Sounds kind of... well, intense. Doesn't really sound close. More like everyone just working hard to please the others. What about you?"

"Me? I did what I could to keep everyone happy. To keep... Izzy happy..."

"You must really like him. Like, really like him." You jab Lucius with your elbow. "Ow! Okay, sorry..."

"Izzy works his ass off. Yeah, I get it, he's a dick and it's very hard to like him, but he's not all bad. He's just... stressed beyond belief, and the one man he tries so hard to please barely acknowledges it!"

Lucius glances at Blackbeard. "Oh."

"Look, I won't deny it. I have a soft spot for Izzy Hands."

"Yeah, I noticed."

You give him a gentle shove with your arm.

"Well, he's gone now. Maybe you can find some relief."

"Relief?"

"Yeah." Lucius shrugs. "Maybe you can move on. Let that part of you go."

You look down at the bit of snake in your hand. Let Izzy go? Is that possible? Can you do that? You hadn't once let go during the 6 years you were apart of him. But had he? After all, he thought you were dead during that time.

"Maybe make Izzy a ghost of your past," Lucius suggests.

"A ghost...?"

You're pulled out of your thoughts by Stede helping get snake out of Ed's beard. You and Lucius stare at the two. The conversation about Izzy being put to the back of your mind.

"Oh my God, this is happening," Lucius mutters.

"Wow," you whisper.

"What?" They look at the pair of you.

"Nothing."

You turn back to Lucius who gives you another look. Yeah, it's happening.

♡♡♡

The map caught fire. It was a total accident and was bound to happen, but alas, there's not much of the map left.

Stede sits on his knees as he tries to fix it.

"There's still a few scraps that didn't completely burn."

"Ah, give it up, Stede. All adventures have a natural conclusion, and this one's more than fitting." Ed says, watching him.

"No, I think I can fix this. Come on, the day's not fully ruined."

"God, he'll probably be moping all the way back to the ship." Ed groans.

"You don't have to be a dick about it," Lucius says softly, frowning.

"What?" Edward turns to him, his voice sharp.

"He said don't be a dick about it." You look Edward in the eye. "He's put this whole thing together just for you."

"For me? Why?"

"Look, you're very cool, and you wear leather, OK, so maybe you won't understand this, but everyone is worried all of the time whether they're interesting or adventurous enough for you." Lucius tells him right off the bat.

"That bizarre little man over there likes you very much, and you like him." You state plainly to your captain.

"If you can't get over yourself long enough to realise that, you're going to end up another lesther-clad, middle-aged sad sack dying alone in a puddle of his own piss." Lucius carries on angrily. "You can stab me in the face now."

Edward glances at you. He can tell from your expression that you agree with Lucius. He walks quietly over to where Stede is.

"It's hopeless. We might as well head back to the ship," Stede sighs, defeated. "You were right. It's a stupid idea. I... I don't know why we're here."

"I'm actually a little disappointed," Edward tells him. "I was startin' to have fun."

Ed gestures for you and Lucius to come closer. You both go to stand beside him. Ed points to piece of the map. "That little bit there on that lite scrappy bit of paper, that looks like a tree, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, no, definitely does to me," Lucius says. You just nod.

"And the other little squiggly bit. What's that look like?"

"Like a road, or a river." You might as well join in and make the most of this.

"You know what? I think, just with this little bit here, we could probably sort this out."

"Yeah?" Stede asks full of hope.

"They're all the pieces we need."

"Shall I prepare the shovel, or..." Lucius goes to grab it.

"We didn't come all this way to not dig something up!"

"Right!" Stede stands up. "That's the spirit. OK. This way." Stede marches onward.

"That was sweet," you say, turning to Ed.

"Don't, or I will stab you in your face."

You laugh and follow them as they head off further into the trees.

♡♡♡

"Is this how you felt with Izzy?" Edward asks, walking alongside you again.

"What do you mean?"

He gazes at Stede and motions between himself and the other man with his hand. "This."

"Are you implying I was in love with Izzy Hands?" You ask. Edward nods. "What? No! Izzy was my friend. He needs friends, Ed. If anything... no, forget it."

"What?"

"No, nothing. You're not ready to hear that.

"You two were so close, ya know." Edward shrugs his shoudler lightly. "Kind of envied that."

"Envied it? Izzy was your friend too."

"Yeah, but, like, not in the way you were friends. You too had something. He still wears that ring around his neck."

"The ring on his necktie? He's always had that. What's that got to do with anything?" You ask, confused by Edward's words.

"No. Not that. He has a chain he wears under his shirt. There's a ring on it."

"Huh?"

"Izzy found a ring on that ship that night. Pretty little ring. He didn't say anything for a while about after the night we lost you, but eve actually I had to ask. I caught him looking at it as it hung around his neck. Told me he thought of you when he saw it. He was gonna give it to ya, but... well, you know."

You look at the ground, brows knitted together in thought. Hearing Izzy like this was so soft and gentle. He was sentimental.

"Why didn't he say anything?" You ask. "After my return."

"Perhaps he can't bring himself to. You know what's he's like. Doesn't trust easy, for starters."

"He lost trust in me?"

"We thought you were dead," Edward says softly. "Don't forget that. For 6 years you were dead in our lives."

"Fuck..."

"Listen, mate. Don't feel bad. Things didn't turn out as planned and a lot of shit happened. But we're cool. You're back and everything is gonna be okay."

"But Izzy is gone. The bastard left... he left me behind! If... if I meant anything to him, I..."

"Hey, hey, hey! Calm down."

You take a deep breath. "Sorry."

"It's all good. What's done is done. Just don't hate the man, okay?"

"Hate him...?" You fall quiet. "I couldn't hate him."

Ed keeps an arm around you as the group keeps on walking. Eventually the adventure comes to an end. To get this over with, Lucius and Ed guide Stede to an old dead tree.

"You sure this is the right tree?" Stede asks.

"Yeah, definitely."

"Oh, undoubtedly, mate."

"It looks just like the one off the map."

"Plus, pirates are ways burying stuff at the base of trees," Ed says.

"See, now I feel you're patronising me."

"What are you doing to my family's tree?" Jim asks, standing behind Bonnet.

"Good timing. I'm just about to unearth some treasure," Stede replies happily.

"We, er..." Ed goes over to Jim to speak quietly behind Stede. "We're just letting him dig for a bit, get it out of his system."

"I found something! What do you think it could be?"

"A rock." You, Lucius, and Jim all said at the same time.

"I've got it." Stede holds the item up. "I think it's a rock."

You sigh. "Yeah, too bad."

Stede tosses the rock over to Edward. "Yeah, sorry, mate. That's usually how these things go. Just end up finding a rock, or dried-up piece of shit."

Ed uses one of the water tankers Lucius is carrying to rinse the rock.

"Well, I guess the real treasure was our day spent together, am I right?" Lucius smiles.

"Lucius! We spend every day together." Stede puts his hands on his hips.

You laugh a little. Ed looks at you with a smile.

"Treasure is the real treasure."

"Hey, look at that. It's an orange." Edward holds the 'rock' up. "Petrified." He tosses it back to Stede.

"Old tree will had some fruit to give after all." Jim looks at the tree fondly.

Stede offers the orange to Jim, since the fruit came from their tree, but Jim tosses it back. It's Stede's treasure.

"OK, back to the boat," Ed says, turning on his heel. You do not hesitate to catch up. You've had enough adventure for one day.

♡♡♡

Edward joins Stede in his quarters after you all return to the ship. While Lucius smiles and listens to the other party's adventure on getting oranges, you sneak past them to go hide in Izzy's old cabin.

Lucius sees you though.

You sigh as you stand in the doorway and look at the bed. It doesn't feel right without him. You sit down carefully and rest your head back against the wall.

"Where did you go, Izzy?" You whisper. "Why did you leave me?"

A knock at the door startles you and you turn to see Lucius standing there, now without all the gear he had been carrying all day.

"Hey."

"Hi."

He looks at you with a kind softness. "You want some company?"

You sigh softly and nod your head. Lucius comes over and sits beside you on the bed. He rests his head back too and looks at you, planting a hand over yours on your leg.

"You know, I kind of miss him yelling at us all, in a weird kind of way."

You laugh.

"Yeah? You get used to it after a while. Sorry he was such a dick to you though." You apologise.

"Nah, forget about it." He waves his hand as if to brush the apology off. "He definitely had a soft spot for you."

You shrug. "So people keep telling me."

"But it's true. I saw the way he looked at you." Lucius smiles.

"Shut it."

You both chuckles. A moment of silence passes before you sigh and speak again. "I just wish I could apologise to him some more. I want to see his stupid face and know that he trusts me again."

"Blackbeard said he closed himself off after I "died." And I don't luke the idea of him suffering alone in silence."

Lucius gives your hand a squeeze. "Things will get better."

You look at him. "I kind of like being on this ship. It was weird at first because it was so different from other ships I've been on, but it had grown on me."

"Yeah get kind of used to it."

You both smile at each other.

"Thanks for checking on me, Lucius."

"Any time, sweetheart," he grins and winks at you. You laugh and give him a gentle shove. "You ever been sketched?" He asks.

You try to bite down your smile, but to no avail. "No."

"Wanna be?"

You laugh.

It felt good to laugh again.

♡♡♡

@grippleback-galaxy - @askmarinaandothers - @godlikegallagher - @for-fuck-sake-im-alive - @whiskeyswriting - @lxsm2 - @bloody-bunni666 - @the-chocoholic-writer - @bugbugboy - @callmemana -

#izzy hands x reader #spirit of the sea #ofmd #our flag means death #dragon writes

134 notes · View notes