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c0mmitt4xfr0g · 1 year ago

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Ripe - Chapter One

uhm... so basically I wrote these hoffstrahm fanfics and I wanted to post them here................ nsfw so...

fanfic tags: hoffstrahm, gay sex, anal sex, angst (but it's all better don't worry), semi public sex.

I can't think of anything else but if there's a tag I'm missing you want me to add lemme know!!

Chapter One

It was spitting rain and windy, but that wasn't why Peter felt cold. He barely felt the gusts on his skin anymore, all he could feel was the tingling sensation of goosebumps. His eyes kept going in and out of focus as he looked from the rubber mask to Mark Hoffman's face, and the surprise paced both of them.

Neither one of them recalled what street this was, but Peter was pretty sure there hadn't been a building in the middle of it, closing the alleyway. Mark hadn't known that either, and he suddenly found himself trapped, nothing but himself, Peter Strahm, and the rain in that alleyway.

The situation was ripe for the picking.

Peter was out of breath and it didn't help that he couldn't breathe for a second, air caught in his throat like he was scared to choke on it. Adrenaline coursed through his veins like a narcotic and he felt drunk as he stumbled over to Mark.

"I got you," Peter said, more to himself than to Mark, and though his voice sounded relieved, he was not.

Mark hung his head and a sigh of exhaustion left his chest as Peter grabbed his arms, turning him around. He only struggled for a moment to protect his pride, knowing that somewhere, deep inside his brain, he still had a little bit left. He wouldn't go without a fight – but that didn't mean he would fight hard.

"Aren't you gonna take me in, officer?" Hoffman snarled, and Strahm shoved him against the wall with a groan.

He had done it. He'd captured the man he'd been obsessing over for months. He had the handcuffs around his wrists, too, and the car was just around the corner.

He had his perp – now what?

Mark couldn't help the slight gasp that escaped his lips as the cold metal handcuffs were replaced with boney, calloused hands. The handcuffs clanged loudly to the pavement and Mark flinched, but then there was nothing around his wrists at all. Peter flung his hands out of his own and took a hesitant step back.

"Get the fuck outta my sight," Peter said in a low tone, but the venom in his voice was diluted with how much it shook.

Mark whipped around. "Excuse me?"

Peter was looking at him with cold, calculated wrath that was ready to burst in him, and for the first time in a long time, Mark felt fear. His lip curled like he was about to smile and his eyes were so piercing they felt like cutting ice.

"I said, get the fuck out of my sight." The silence was deafening, and even though Peter spoke so quietly Mark questioned if he heard him right, it sounded like he barked this.

Mark's eyes darted to the mask in his fist, and with a sinking feeling in his stomach, he knew that even if he ran, he had been caught. The empty threats Peter had mailed him had meant nothing but flirtation until that very moment, because now, he had proof. And there was no amount of running in the world that would reverse it.

"Is this some sort of joke? I'll turn around and you'll shoot me in the back?" Mark snapped, throwing the mask on the pavement in a moment of rage. "Are you too pussy to be in the car alone with me?"

"God dammit, Mark," he quipped, but his voice sounded so tender at his first name. "There's no point. If I throw you in jail, you'll just escape. We'll never lose a court case against you anyway."

Peter didn't leave him with a lot of options, and Mark couldn't decide if getting shot in the back or getting thrown in prison for the rest of his life was worse. He didn't look armed, and for a second, even though he felt frozen in place, he started walking.

He waited one second, two seconds, three seconds for the burning pain of a bullet entering him but there was nothing, and he looked over his shoulder, doing a double take.

He watched Peter collapse to his knees against the alley wall, sitting down. He was standing in shock. Mark couldn't believe his eyes, but he watched him pull out a cigarette, reach for the pig mask, and hold it while he smoked, not even caring if the ash got on it or not. He was looking at it almost fondly, and Mark just couldn't believe it.

"Get up, your ass is gonna get soaked," Mark said sternly, and Peter dumbly did what he said as if he hadn't noticed he was still there, or worse, watching him.

He threw his coat on the ground where he was sitting, and Peter took up all the room that he wanted, Mark sat down next to him in silence.

Peter flung the cigarette he was smoking in a puddle, and Mark watched it fizzle out, the puff of smoke disappearing into the fog.

"Why are you still here?" Peter asked, his voice rough.

He coughed, grimacing and gripping his throat, and Mark peered at the little jagged, white scar on his Adam's apple. His voice never went back to being as smooth as it had been, but if Mark had said it wasn't attractive, he would have been lying. He didn't understand why he still smoked, but part of him liked watching him do it, and Mark felt himself craving smoke more than ever before in his life.

"Because," Hoffman said childishly. "Why are you still here?"

"None of your business," Peter said.

"Actually, it is my business, since you're supposed to be chasing me," he said, hoping that maybe Peter had forgotten the memo, that he had forgotten that they completed each other like that.

It hit Mark like a tonne of bricks that this was it – their little game was over. He had come to enjoy it, come to enjoy egging him on, sending him notes like they were love letters

Strahm didn't say anything but the rain picked up, wetting his hair until it fell in front of his eyes, not bothering to fix it.

"Why don't you just take me back to the department, throw me in jail for a few days, I'll escape and then we can go right back to how things were, huh?" Mark said, nudging him with his elbow.

"I can't," he murmured, looking up at the clouds and letting raindrops pool on his eyelids. "I can't, I'm done. It'll never be the same."

"I don't understand this," Mark started. "You're a fucking FBI agent, you're supposed to be happy that you caught me. Instead you're sitting on the ground in the rain while I give you a pep talk."

"Because you took everything from me!" Peter suddenly roared, grabbing Mark's collar with a steel fist. "And now you're all I have left."

The words escaped Peter's snarling lips and he wished that he could go back just a few seconds to stop it. When had things turned that way? When did his obsession to catch Mark become his Mark obsession? Weeks, at least, probably months, and he couldn't think of anything else that would fill that void other than him.

Peter knew it was fucked up, but the only way he could cope with everything he had lost was looking to the man who had taken it from him. And now he had him right in his hands – it should've been a sweet victory, but putting him in jail was cutting out a whole chunk of his life.

Mark gave him nightmares, but he also gave him meaning, and he gave him long nights with hard-ons that he didn't know how to fix, pictures of him that he kept separated from his files, just for him, because sometimes thinking about Mark numbed the pain and gave him something else to want.

And right now all he wanted was to kiss him, watching Mark's wide eyes trace his face, probably his nose that he could never stop staring at, while Peter gazed slowly at him licking those rounded lips.

He pulled him in closer but slowly, so slow, like he was scared Mark would bite him. Mark could see what was happening but his brain couldn't make sense of it, he could only taste the cigarettes on Peter's breath and wanted to taste more.

But Mark's eyes fluttered shut as their lips met, and he couldn't help but tug on Peter's jacket, needing something to hang onto.

In a second, a chaste kiss became angry, Peter digging his fingertips into Mark's scalp hard enough to sting a little, but the only thing Mark would've done differently is tell him to pull his hair, because it hurt in the best way. Peter wasn't breathing so much as groaning into the other man's mouth.

"I need you," Peter gasped again, and Mark felt a rush of blood to his dick, the humiliation didn't help.

"Shit, that's." Hoffman couldn't finish his sentence because his words caught in his throat when Peter squeezed at his chest with his long fingers, and he gritted his teeth.

Peter moaned against Mark's lips as he groped himself through his pants, arching his legs. He knew his cock was a sharp bulge in his pants but he didn't care, didn't care how obvious it was.

In an instant, Hoffman was on his knees straddling Peter's thigh while he pressed his knee into his cock. Strahm ground into his knee, and when he returned his focus to Mark's chest, Mark moved his hand down to his cock.

"I need you too," Mark finally said, muffled against his lips.

It was the first time Mark had seen Peter so scared and excited all at once, his steel blue eyes glittering into his.

"Fucking, thank you," Peter groaned, unzipping Mark's pants before his own. "I don't have lube."

Mark leaned down, and spat on Peter's cock, wiping his mouth with something like a glare. "There. No more excuses."

Peter slowly looked up at him in disbelief. "Fucking disgusting," Peter said. "I'm obsessed with you."

"I know you are," Mark said, but when he saw Peter suck two of his fingers into his mouth, he stopped him. "Don't bother."

Peter hesitated. "But-"

"I don't care if it hurts," Mark wheezed, but then, "just, distract me."

Peter didn't understand why he didn't let him just split him open, but he didn't mind so much, because he really did feel like he was going to burst any second.

He guided his cock into Mark's ass with one hand and gripped Mark's with his other, thumbing at his slit. It made Mark wince, but if it wasn't a good distraction from the pain of stretching around him with nothing other than a little spit to help, he wasn't sure what was.

Peter let his head roll back, squeezing his eyes shut and then blinking rapidly, a trembling gasp escaping him.

"Fucking- Mark, you're so tight," he grunted, stroking him the best he could with a shaking hand. "You're sure?"

"Shut up, just shut up for a sec," Mark snapped, his brows furrowed in deep concentration.

His teeth were gritted in pain and Peter gave him a dubious look, not sure if he should keep touching his cock or not. When he started fucking his cock with his fist, Mark let out a gasp that he'd been holding, and it seemed to ease his tension. Mark let his head sink forward and his hair fell messily over his eyes, but Peter fixed it, pushing it back, slick with the rain.

After a moment, Mark sank fully onto Peter's cock, his ass on his thighs. Mark was heavy, but Peter was strong. Strahm couldn't help but grunt as Mark sank onto him, because he was so, so tight, and warm, and he was pretty sure he was going to break his dick off but he didn't ever want to stop.

"Christ," Mark said through gritted teeth, eyes still closed and his hands still on Peter's shoulders for stability. "Gonna break me in half."

"I told you we should-"

"Shut up," Mark said, quieter this time. "I didn't say it was a bad thing."

Mark pulled off of him for a second to get situated, and when he slowly slipped onto Peter again, he started bouncing. His legs were trembling but it wasn't from a lack of strength, because the adrenaline rush made him stronger than he ever had been before.

Strahm moaned raggedly, his hand on Mark's round hip. "Beautiful," he murmured, and he could see the redness creep over Mark's calm complexion.

"Jesus, you really are obsessed with me," Mark teased, but bit his lip hard when Strahm thumbed at his head again.

He forgot that just a few moments ago, he had been burning, because the only thing he could think about now was how to stop himself from blowing his load embarrassingly fast.

"I didn't have a choice," Peter said, running his hand over his shoulder blades. "Mm, feels so good, baby."

Mark felt his eyes burn and gloss over when Peter started thrusting into him to meet his pace, feeling his voice start to tremble.

"I'm gonna come fast if you keep doing that," Mark admitted, his hand resting on Peter's chest.

"Good," he said. "I want you to."

"You just want to embarrass me," Mark said, but he could barely get it out in more than a whine, and he hiccupped.

Peter put his knees up and it forced him deeper into Mark, making him swear, his grip on Peter's shoulders tightening with every animal thrust.

"You… took everything from me," Peter grunted in his ear, sinking all the force he had into fucking him.

"I know," Mark stammered, his voice wet because he was almost crying. "You're my everything."

"You too," Peter gasped. "I need you, a-ah, think about it everyday, I think I fucking love you-"

Mark suddenly cried out, gripping Peter's cheeks and resting his forehead on his as he bounced, feeling his cock twitching in his hand as Peter pressed into a sweet spot. He was close, and Peter could tell, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand so that at the very least, he came on his stomach and not his clothes.

"You can come- hah, o-on me," Peter assured him, and gripped his ass which rested on his thigh.

"Fucking creep," Mark groaned, but he buried his face in the crook of Peter's neck, breathing in his cologne like he needed it to live. "I do love you, I know it."

Mark was glad now for his coat being under them, because his knees stung from the gravel as it was. Even still, he felt nothing but bliss as he let out a wracked sob, shaking and shuddering in Peter's strong arms as he came. Peter had stopped thrusting for a moment to stroke him hard but slow, his fingers around his balls as he squeezed the orgasm out of him. Come trickled down his cock as he twitched, gripping Peter around the waist like he was a pillow that he needed for support.

Peter didn't feel like a prison – Mark wasn't trapped in his arms, he was home.

"I'm okay," he promised, even though his voice didn't sell it, shaking as it was. "Keep going."

Peter slowly started thrusting into him again, and for a moment, it felt like too much to handle. Mark pressed a sloppy kiss to his lips to ground himself again, but he flinched when Peter's crown caught at his rim, because even if the pain had long since faded, it felt like sparks going off in his stomach.

"You can come inside," Mark gasped, rocking his hips into Peter's.

Mark thought it was only fair since he did come on his stomach – and partially just wanted to feel him deep inside of him, wanted to watch him drip out of him.

Peter stilled for a moment, but when he looked at Mark's serious eyes and his blushing face, he slammed into him again and again.

"You're so good," Peter groaned. "So good for me, gonna make me come."

Peter had never been one to talk dirty during sex, but Mark was bringing out something desperate that he had suppressed for a long time.

He could feel stars in his stomach and the sight of Mark's soft cock drippling come onto Peter's stomach was enough to send him, but what really got him was Mark repeating so good, like an echo. He shot his load into Mark, and clung to him, hugging him tight.

"Fucking- Mark!" he growled, tugging his shirt so hard that it exposed one of his shoulders.

"God," Mark groaned, rolling his eyes back.

Hoffman could already feel his come dripping out of him but Peter had the common sense to pull his coat away before his head lolled back, and he pulled out of him. He watched in fascination as his seed ran down from Mark's ass, Mark pulling his shirt up around his soft belly to keep it clean.

Mark had barely wiped the come off of Strahm's stomach with a spare napkin out of his coat before he slumped into his arms, hugging him tight around the waist. Peter was slightly taken aback by this, but softened, wrapping his arms protectively around him. He kissed his forehead and Strahm nestled against his chest.

For a moment, neither of them said anything, Mark melted into Peter's arms for support. All they did was breathe.

After a moment, Peter untangled his fingers from Mark's hair.

"Look, I can't take you home. But," Peter swallowed thickly, his throat dry. "Let me take you somewhere, like a hotel. We can stay the night."

"That sounds like a great idea," Mark said sarcastically.

"What do you have to lose?" Peter asked. "Just leave the mask here. It wouldn't be the first time people have seen us together."

Mark glanced at the mask in the corner of the alley, sitting in a puddle. Peter was right – he had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

"Just this once," Mark said uneasily, and Peter gave him a slight grin.

His promise meant nothing, because they both knew that it wouldn't be this once. This was just the beginning. And if Mark needed to lie to himself for a while to be okay with that, Peter was more than willing to go along with it. Mark already felt empty of him and knew his appetite would need to be sated sometime. But for the time being, he would take it one moment at a time, with Peter's strong arms and steady gaze to ground him.

The ao3 link btw......

#fanfic #saw brainrot #saw #my writing #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #hoffstrahm #mark hoffman #peter strahm #coffinshipping #smut

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reveseke · 1 month ago

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— @ reveseke —

-> layout by @/coleminecanary. Gambit from X-Men in the header & pfp. :3

I do not consent to having my written work be reposted onto other public platforms such as fanfiction.com, AO3, Wattpad and such.

Requests open indefinitely, however quite slow.

I don't have a DNI. However, .y BYF is simple;

I'm an adult, 18 years old. +15 audience preferred around here due to the themes I (may) write for.

heed warnings as all, lemme know if I missed any warnings on fics (/genuine). The general principal here being; Don't like/this warning triggers you = don't read, but don't bitch about things that don't trigger you being trigger tagged.

I write solely for male, FTM, masc, enby/gq & GN readers.

I don't as of now write for female characters in romantic sense. May change in the future, but that doesn't mean I don't write for female characters in general.

I do not align myself with ship discourse. I'm peacefic, thanks.

—— Before you send in an ask of any kind, please do not use any colors in your texts or fonts of any kind (includes <s> text and off- and on-site fonts.). I am low vision, I do not fare well with text I cannot read. It is not accessible for me and I will delete that ask the second I register it in my inbox. /Info

More under cut regarding me, requests and the fandoms I write for.

— fandoms I'm writing for —

Criminal minds, marvel (avengers, spiderverse, x-men etc.), Voltron, Cobra Kai, Ninjago, Lego monkie kid, HTTYD franchise, Z nation, DC (justice league, flash, legends of tomorrow.) And My bloody valentine.

You can ask if I write for other fandoms and specific characters. Currently there are no blacklisted characters, however my current fandom blacklist consists of Vivzie pop's & inherently NSFW medias. :)

— about requests —

Don't give me bare "this character x reader" asks, it's too bare and gives me no ideas what you want me to write. :') please include a scenario or something in there I can work on. Also the more detailed or the more given elements to go off on and to built off = the better, it helps me immensely to see what you want me to write for you. If you want, specify what type you want me to write (headcanons, blurbs, oneshots etc.)

Add pronouns you want if they differ from the stereotype (male = he/him. GN = they/them, etc) and the gender of the reader if you want it to be enby gn ftm or male specific (this might impact the way I write the fic).

I'm generally open to any ideas and plots, but I'll let you know if it makes me uncomfortable (this also mean that I will be denying the request)

— Can write —

Comfort/hurt, angst, fluff, and even whump etc fics, headdcanons, blurbs, and scenarios. Uhh, also found family trope and a lot more tropes, you can ask about them or add them into requests idk lol.

On a more specific note; I can write horror, obsessive characters/readers, stalking, murder, death (side & main character, reader death), violence, gore, and such. I can do suggestive stuff, that's about it.

I use a lot of metaphors in my writing and one part of that are lwk religious metaphors (especially if there's gore specifically involved).

I'm more than fine including disabilities and neurodiverse characters & readers in my written pieces. Just ask.

— won't write—

No's in the content I'm writing; rape, pedophilic content or relationships, consangamory content, nsfw. I'm iffy on pregnancy related things, currently leaning on not writing them. No child abuse, or animal abuse or cruelty themes, hate speech of any kind etc.

— Links —

Masterlist link

— About writer —

Call me Koiri or Benne, either goes or my user (or the shorthand from it; Reve.).

I use he/him as aux pronouns and it/hy/xe/cae/any as primary. I'm white, Finnish, neurodivergent, and an aroacespec genderqueer transboy.

My interests lay in horror (splatterpunk & medical horror + somewhat in body horror specifically.), slashers, Written/movie gore (and the way they can be turned poetic.), animation movies/series', Helpol, alterhumanity, uhh and a lot more than I care to remember rn. Also these fandoms; Marvel, CoD, Criminal minds.

#pinned #🗞️.txt post #🗞️. request #🗞️. others work #🗞️. original #reblog #those are my tags and there are other stray tags in the format of “(item) tag”#so i can keep some order of the reblogs i reblog :)

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xaurianqueen97 · 3 months ago

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Hello you lot, I am 27, she/her, on antidepressants, have insomnia, but online I like to generally have a good time. Online I like to go by Lily, I post whatever catches my fancy and my current obsession changes every few months when I burn out. I like to play those cross stitch games on my phone or dig big holes in Minecraft while I listen to podcasts or YouTube videos because I also have ADHD.

I came of age on fanfiction.net and used to roleplay on Rise of Kings, if any of you remember that old minecraft server lemme know, I miss it dearly. I wrote a bit of fanfiction (nothing completed) a decade ago and have been trying to get back into it ever since. On a good day I'll write a few hundred words. Most of my writing habit is carrying a pen and notebook in my purse at all times and hoarding notebooks in general. I have dozens.

I'm a supporter of original characters, a mary sue apologist (they are not all built the same), and I think one should write fanfiction for yourself first, if other folks like it that's a bonus.

My tumblr name is a reference to a universe/lore I've been building since I was a child, it's still under development and I can only talk about small chunks before I run into a plot hole i haven't fixed or some history I haven't finished. I adore Xaurius to the death, along with its rulers, the Raven family. My precious, tortured babies.

I try to comply with DNFs but if I follow you on accident go ahead and let me know, or block me, and I apologize in advance for the inconvenience.

I like interacting with folks, but I don't always respond super often cause mental health, work, real life/adult shit, or I just can't think of a good response at the time.

Anyway, love y'all, sorry my early reblogs aren't tagged, I tried doing so but it took like 7 straight minutes to scroll back to my first posts and while I enjoy repetitive tasks I don't enjoy them THAT much.

Oh, and I have read through tumblr a bunch over the years, but early 2024 is when I properly started using it as intended. I enjoy it a lot!

I'll add more stuff here and relevant tags later.

#the queen talks #pinned

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khoicesbyk · 2 years ago

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The Royal Romance.

Love Everlasting.

A/N: I had a different name and plot for this fic over a year ago. But after being in the RP community for more than a year, I've decided to write the current Royal Life of my favorite OTP.

Rated: Mature (at times can and will be Explicit. I'll be sure to change the rating when and if that happens). | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual. Y'all should be used to this from me by now 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me and/or other authors [their characters have been mentioned and/or used in the story with their permission] ) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 50K words. (may be slightly more or may be slightly less. Look, I stop counting after editing and re-editing and driving myself insane. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

This series is rated Mature and/or Explicit. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations

TW: Mentions of Cancer. Reader Discretion is STRONGLY ADVISED!

Matrimony. Part 3.

The next day came bright and early and before Shanelle knew it she was at her duchy, with Marquise, her parents, and especially her girls. She and the girls were all congregated on her bed.

“Girl!!! How many rooms do you have in this place?” Bron asked.

“36 bedrooms with 56 bathrooms in total in the main estate. Plus 14 guest cottages and 10 servants' quarters.” Shanelle replied.

“And it's all yours?” Dee asked.

“All. Mine!” Shanelle replied.

“Since it's all yours, can we go back to the wine cellar?” Nina asked.

“Which one? I got like 12 of them here.” Shanelle replied.

“Well shit! In that case, let's go through all of them!” Nina said.

“Drunk. Ass.” Rob said to her.

“H! A! P! P! I! L! Y!” Nina sang.

The girls laughed.

“Seriously. Thank y'all so much for coming to Cordonia.” Shanelle said to her girls.

“Chile! Thank your boyfriend. He flew us out on private jets.” Rob replied.

“You mean he spoiled you?” Shanelle asked.

“Yeah pretty much. I don't wanna fly any other way.” Rob replied.

The girls laughed.

“It's so good to have a friendly face around here.”

“What do you mean Shan?” Aly asked.

Shanelle sighed.

“A lot of the nobles here are still loyal to Marquise’s father and my uncle. So they're being petty and intentionally distant. Oh and then there's the floozie. She's been floating around lately.”

“Why?” Chutney asked.

“Because she's still trying to win my man back. Oh and she tried me yesterday,” Shanelle replied.

The girls all looked at her.

“Don't look at me like that. Y'all heard me loud and clear.”

“What happened?” Nina asked.

Shanelle told the girls everything that happened the day before.

“Excuse me?” Bron asked.

Nina looked around.

“I'm sorry. I must've heard you incorrectly.” Nina said.

“Lemme get this straight: this bitch talked shit about your family and she's still breathing?!” Robin asked.

Shanelle just looked at Robin.

“Oh hell no!” Dee piped up.

“No, she fucking didn't!” Aly hissed.

“This bitch!” Chut seethed.

“Yup. If Marquise hadn't jumped in between us. She'd be dead by now.”

“Why is he defending her?” Nina asked.

“He's not. As much as I don't like the bitch, she's a big fish here. She can put a bug in people’s ears and turn the court against me.” Shanelle replied.

Nina nodded slowly.

“So we are gonna set a trap for the bitch.” Shanelle announced.

“How?!” the girls asked.

“At the tea next weekend we're going to get her to show her ass right before we beat her ass,” Shanelle replied.

The girls cheered.

“In the meantime, get your best Southern Belle ready, ladies. We are going to the Derby tomorrow.”

The next day dawned bright and early. And after a good breakfast with the ones she loved the most, Shanelle was ready to seize the day. She made sure to coordinate her outfit with the outfits of her girls. She was determined to make sure she and her girls stood out.

They arrived after Marquise and stole the show. Many were clamoring for a chance with the kingdom’s new Queen Regent. No one had ever seen a Queen dress the way she did. Many were intrigued, some were appalled, and others applauded her boldness to break the mold and standard of what a Queen should be. But all eyes were on her and her girls. Cameras flashed as they walked the red carpet.

Marquise watched proudly as Shanelle and the girls owned the cameras, the carpet, and the paparazzi. When they got to the private box, there was champagne waiting and the girls were over the moon.

“Oh. My. God! That was amazing!” Bron squealed.

“So much fun!” Nina and Chut agreed.

“Those cameras loved us!” Rob quipped.

“That was so exciting.” Dee added.

“I will never get tired of that,” Aly said proudly.

Marquise chuckled at the girls’ excitement.

“I am very glad to hear you girls had fun walking the red carpet. This event is a big deal.”

“I don't see my parents,” Shanelle said.

“They have their own private box next to this one. See?”

Marquise showed Shanelle and the girls where her parents were sitting.

“Awwww!” the girls said in unison.

“The box to the right of theirs is where King Edward and Queen Genevieve are sitting. And the box to the left of this one is where Regina and my father are sitting. As I said, The Derby is a big deal. A lot of money is raised and won. And since this is our first event as the new Regents, all eyes are on the two of us.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Good. Now get comfortable ladies. The first set of races is about to begin.”

“Question! Do we get to bet on the races?” Rob asked.

Marquise snapped his fingers and a primly dressed man appeared.

“Place your bets with Gustav. And here's hoping one if not all of you win a little money.”

Shanelle watched as the girls scrambled to Gustav and placed bets on the race.

“How many bets have you placed?” Shanelle asked Marquise.

“A couple. The main race is the one to watch, bet on, and win.” Marquise replied.

“Have fun y'all?” Shanelle asked her crew.

The girls all answered at once.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Shanelle said with a laugh.

Just then the first race was announced and began shortly after that. The race ended with Nina winning a little money.

“Congratulations Nina. A $500.00 bet in the Cordonian Dollar converts to a $1,000.00 win in the American dollar.” Marquise said to her.

“I just won $1,000.00 on one horse?!” Nina asked him.

“Place your bets, ladies. The next race will start soon,” Marquise replied.

Marquise watched the girls place a frenzy of bets.

“Satisfying isn't it?” he asked Shanelle.

“Yes, it is. Also, I didn't know the Cordonian Dollar was ½ that of the American dollar,” she replied.

“It used to be ¾ of the American dollar but it's depreciated over the years. Thanks to those who shall not be named.”

Shanelle nodded before looking over his shoulder at her parents.

“Is it okay if I go check on them?” Shanelle asked.

“Be my guest,” Marquiss replied.

Marquise motioned to the guard standing by the door that connected the suites. Shanelle quietly slipped into her parents' suite.

“Well don't you two lovebirds look cozy?” she said to her parents as she sat down next to them.

“It has been a long time since your father took me to a horse race,” Shantel replied.

“I thought you two used to go to the races all the time.”

“We did until you showed up.” her father piped up.

“Not my fault you two decided to be a couple of horny rabbits.”

Damien rolled his eyes with a smile.

“How are you enjoying yourself at the race my darling?” he asked Shanelle.

“Me and the girls are having a blast. Nina even won a little money in the last race,” she replied.

“She did? That's wonderful. Now if only your mother would quit being so stubborn.”

Shantel scoffed.

“Oh no, you don't Damien! You are not about to gamble away my retirement money!”

Damien grumbled under his breath.

“It's okay, Daddy. I'll put a bet in for you.”

“Thank you, my darling.”

Just then Queen Genevieve walked in.

“Well isn't this just adorable? The two parasites I mean parents of the woman who will doom us all look mighty comfortable.” she sneered.

Shanelle set her jaw and Shantel rolled her eyes.

“Hello, sister-in-law. Do you need something? Does Edward?” Damien asked.

“No no. I just wanted to see how much damage and destruction Her Regency has done to the kingdom.” Genevieve replied.

“Anything I do for and to Cordonia can't be any worse than the havoc you and your husband have wreaked over the years.” Shanelle snapped at her.

Genevieve scoffed.

“You'll fail soon enough child. You don't belong here.” Genevieve sneered before walking back into her suite.

“Don't you dare let what that snake said get to you Shanelle,” Shantel said to her.

“I'm not worried about her momma. I can handle her. I'm worried about you and Daddy. I don't want her or Edward coming after you two.”

Damien waved her away.

“You don't have to worry about us. Your mother and I can take care of ourselves.”

“Your dad’s right. We will be just fine.”

“Okay. How was your visit to your duchy Daddy?” Shanelle asked her father.

“It was great. Your mother and I had an amazing time in Granier.” Damien replied.

“We really did. We visited a new vineyard there. It was named after your grandmother.”

Shanelle cleared her throat.

“Speaking of…Marquise and I went to see them. Well, we went to see where they are buried.”

Damien nodded.

“Good. I have been meaning to take you and your mother to where they were laid to rest for years.”

“I know. It was good to see them. I even saw the inscription of their nicknames. I know that you had something to do with that.”

“Of course I did. Edward Dominic Miller may be the oldest child and the one who became King but he has never been the only child. Our father's final wishes made sure that I had as much input on his and our mother’s burial as he did.”

“It made me smile to see it.”

Damien smiled at her.

“Good. The last thing your grandfather said to me was to make sure you got everything you deserved to have.”

Shanelle smiled softly at Damien.

“I wish I could've gotten to know them.”

Damien nodded slowly.

“As do I, my darling.”

The race began and ended winning Shanelle money.

“I knew Starfall Lane would win!”

“Congratulations my darling. The owners of that horse are also the owners of the odds-on favorite to win the main race, Marabelle’s Dream. They're old friends of mine. They'll be happy to know you went with their horses.”

“I should go. I'll check on you two later.”

“Alright, baby. Have fun.”

Shanelle took one last look at her parents before heading back to her own suite. When she got back she was greeted by a very drunk Bronwyn.

“Princessssssssssss!” she said as she ran up and attached herself to Shanelle.

“Oh, Good Lord,” Shanelle said as she peeled Bron off of her, “Bron! Baby, how much alcohol have you had?”

Bron hiccuped.

“Including this glass? Maybeeeeee a bottle and a half?” she replied while swaying and near losing her balance. “Whoooooaaaaaaaaa! Good save Princess!”

Shanelle looked at the girls.

“Why y'all let this child drink so much? You know this girl’s a lightweight!” Shanelle asked as she guided Bron back to her seat.

“They kept serving. We kept drinking.” Nina replied.

“That's it! No more alcohol for y'all!” Shanelle says.

The girls booed.

“Don't boo me! Y'all are drunk. Off your asses mind you. I don't need y'all wobbling all over the place.”

“Whatever! Where'd you run off to anyway?” Robin asked.

“Went to check on my parents. And while I was there my dad’s monster-in-law showed up.” Shanelle replied.

“His monster-in-law?” Dee asked.

“His brother's wife,” Shanelle replied.

The girls groaned.

“What did she want?” Nina asked.

“Nothing other than to give me my daily reminder that I’m going to destroy Cordonia,” Shanelle replied.

The girls groaned.

“Exactly,” Shanelle said as she swiped a glass of champagne.

“She won't be at this tea thing next week will she?” Aly asked.

“Unfortunately. She and Queen Regina are required to attend. But that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun at their expense.” Shanelle replies.

“So does that mean we have Carte Blanche to act a fool?” Chut asked.

“As long as you're subtle about it. We want those who don't like me to jump first.” Shanelle replies.

“Say no more.” the girls say to Shanelle.

“That's why y'all are my squad,” Shanelle said before taking a sip of her champagne, “this is good. No wonder little miss lightweight is drunk.”

Bronwyn rolled her eyes.

“Ya, mama!”

“I dare you to walk yo drunk ass over to her suite and say it to her face!” Shanelle dared her.

“Umm, I’m brave, not stupid.”

The girls dissolved into cackles.

“Now can I have another glass please?” Bron asked.

“Just one!” Shanelle replied.

Bron waved one of the staff members over and plucked a champagne flute off their tray.

“Thank you, Johann!” Bron said to the server.

“Ooh! Look at you being all prim and proper!” Shanelle teased.

“Marquise taught us how to flag down the staff. They're really nice. They call us each Lady.” Bron said before taking a swig of her champagne.

“Speaking of which, where'd he run off to?” Shanelle asked.

“He was summoned by his dad,” Dee replied.

Shanelle groaned.

“That is not going to end well,” Shanelle muttered.

“What do you mean by that Shan?” Aly asked.

“To put it mildly, those two hate each other,” Shanelle replied.

“WHAT?!” the girls exclaimed.

“Yeah. They have no relationship. Marquise literally wants nothing to do with Constantine. But he has to deal with him until we're married.” Shanelle replied.

“How bad is it between them?” Robin asked.

“When I came here with him a few months ago, we were in the throne room when Connie threatened to have him hung. So if that isn't a prime example of how bad it is between them then I don’t know what is or will be.” Shanelle replies.

“Yooooooo! Are you serious?” Robin asked.

“Yeah. That was the same day I had met Edward.” Shanelle replies.

“Geez! I can't imagine what that's like.” Bron said.

“Same.” Nina agreed.

That's when raised voices were heard coming from Constantine’s box.

“That's not good. They must be arguing about something major.”

Just then Marquise walked into the suite. Annoyance and agitation clearly written on his face. With a deep breath and a frustrated hand running down his face, the look on his face changed.

“Everything okay?” Shanelle asked him.

“Nope. Not even close. But there's nothing I can do about it.” Marquise replies.

“Do you want us to jump him?” Robin asked.

Marquise snorted.

“While I appreciate your offer, you'd never get past his guards. And I would never forgive myself if they hurt any of you.” Marquise replied.

“That's why we'll get our chance next week.” Shanelle quipped.

“Indeed. Now have any of you made your final bets?” Marquise asked.

“Yep!” the girls replied.

“Good. Because you are in for a surprise.” Marquise said to Shanelle.

“What surprise?” Shanelle asked.

“The winning horse of the main race will be gifted to Her Regency.” He replied.

“I get the winning horse?” Shanelle asked.

“That's what I said,” he replied.

The girls looked at each other.

“Umm, Your Majesty!” Bron said.

“Your Regency actually.” Marquise corrected her.

“Yeah, that too. Umm, is your Spanish Prince friend still available?” Bron asked him.

The girls cackled.

“Bronwyn Davis you just got engaged!” Shanelle said to her.

“I know but still! If that offer of a 90-day marriage still stands, I'm taking it!” Bron said.

“Logan would be so mad at you!” Nina said to Bron.

“Yeah well, when he sees the million-dollar alimony checks start to roll in he'll get over it real quick.”

Shanelle shook her head with a smirk. Just as the main race was announced.

“Let's take our seats and watch who wins,” Marquise said to Shanelle.

They watched as the horses lined up and soon were off. The winner Marabelle’s Dream won the entire box a lot of money.

“Congratulations ladies! Enjoy your winnings.” Marquise said to the girls as they cheered.

Shanelle watched her girls collect their winnings before turning her attention to her fiance.

“So are you gonna tell me what you and your father were arguing about?” she asked him.

“Trivial bullshit,” Marquise replies.

“Marquise…”

Marquise shook his head.

“He's pissed that the Derby is going to be given to you and not Regina or Genevieve like it would normally be.”

“He's pissed about a horse?” she asked.

“Yup. Under normal circumstances, the Derby winner is gifted to the Queen. But the owners of this Derby winner have decided to give the horse to you. As a sign of good faith.” he replies.

“You mean as a sign of good faith for the new Monarchy?” she asks.

“Precisely. Now, are you ready to meet your new horse?” he replied.

“Let's go.”

Marquise led the girls from the suite down to the track, where Shanelle was presented with a dozen red roses and her new horse.

“First you get me a Corgi and now you get me a horse. Not bad, Your Regency.” Shanelle whispered to him.

“I'm just getting started,” he whispered back.

The couple snapped a few pictures together before she called her friends over and got a few pictures in with them. When they returned to Shanelle’s duchy everyone was buzzing. Later that night while everyone was off in their rooms, Shanelle was standing on her balcony with Marquise with a glass of wine in her hand.

“Today went well, don't you think?” she asked him.

“I think so. A lot of money was won and raised today.” he replied.

“How much of the money raised will go to charity and how much of it will go to the nobility?” she asked.

“Ideally, none of it would go to the nobility but since it does for now, half and half,” he replied before taking a sip of his drink.

“Just imagine this time next year, all of the money raised will go to charity,” Shanelle said to him.

“What a glorious future that will be. Did you have fun today?” he asked.

“Yes. I've never been to a Derby before. This was an amazing experience for me. And to be able to share it with you, my parents, and especially the girls, I couldn't ask for anything more.” she replied.

“You can always ask for more. I will always give you more, my love.”

The two smiled at each other as they clinked their glasses together. They spent that Sunday with her friends and her parents touring the new vineyard at her father's duchy. The next week Shanelle and the girls spent the week in Paris strategizing over the Queen’s tea, sightseeing, and even doing a little retail therapy, while Marquise was in Cordonia starting the process of forming the new Monarchy. Her friends were there, he didn’t want her to stress.

That Saturday was the Queen’s tea. And Shanelle was nervous and excited at the same time. But she was thankful for her girls being there and having her back. As they each got ready, the girls went over the plan to Naya to show her ass.

“Okay so let's go over this one more time, nobody makes a move until she does.” Shanelle said to the girls.

“Yeah yeah, whatever! Just let me know when we get to beat her ass.” Nina replied.

Shanelle snickered.

“Chile! You gonna give me a bad name,” Shanelle said to Nina.

“As you always say bestie, if you stay ready and y’aint gotta get ready.” Nina said with a shrug.

Shanelle nodded.

“Amen! Well, ladies, I’m ready. Let's go turn this shit out.” Shanelle announced.

With one final look in the mirror, the girls were out the boutique door and headed to the main dining room where the tea is being held. After looking around and appraising the theme and decor, Shanelle was impressed.

“Alright, y'all. This is it. You ready?” she asked her girls.

“Hell yeah!” they replied.

Shanelle nodded before turning to Gladys.

“Open the doors, Gladys.”

Gladys nodded before opening the doors. Soon the dining room was filled with many of the ladies of the court. Including Naya, Queen Genevieve, and Queen Regina. Once everyone was seated Shanelle stood up to give her welcome remarks.

“Good afternoon one and all! I am truly honored and humbled that many of you have joined me here at my duchy for this tea. This is the first of many events that I will be hosting. I know that many of you don't know me and I don't know you, but after today I hope to change that. That way we can begin to form a strong and thriving Cordonia. So please do enjoy yourselves this afternoon.” Shanelle said to the ladies in the room.

As the crowd began to mill about, Shanelle returned to her friends.

“Well, that was nerve-wracking but I did it!”

“You did great! I heard so many people compliment your outfit.” Robin told her.

“Thank you, babe. Now the game really begins.”

Shanelle looked across the room at the many different ladies.

“So now comes the fun. So ladies, how about a game of divide and conquer?” Shanelle asked the girls. “And no throwing drinks on people. Yet.”

The girls laughed before dispersing into the crowd. Shanelle was reminded of what Marquise had told her, that this tea was also a great networking opportunity for her. She spent most of the time at the tea making the rounds. Meeting and greeting as many of the ladies as possible.

As Shanelle was in the garden speaking to a Duchess of a lesser-known noble house, Naya struck.

“Hello, Duchess Mildred! It's been too long.” Naya said to the Duchess.

“Hello, Princess Naya. Indeed it has been. May I help you?” the Duchess asked.

“Yes actually. Do you mind if I steal Her Regency for a moment?” Naya asked the Duchess. Shanelle silently prayed the Duchess would say no, but unfortunately, she obliged Naya.

“Sure. I'm sure Her Regency and I will get the chance to speak again.” the Duchess said as she left. Leaving Shanelle with Naya and her cronies.

“Well, this event isn't as much of a disaster as I thought it would be. Although you still don't belong here or with him.” Naya sneered.

“And yet here I am. And I’m still engaged to His Regency.” Shanelle shot back.

Naya scoffed.

“Not for long.” Naya spat at Shanelle.

“You rejected my invitation weeks ago. So what are you doing here Naya?” Shanelle asked.

“Oh, I was always going to turn you down. I wouldn't be caught dead attending any event that you’re hosting. But I was invited to a tea by the actual Queens of Cordonia and I would never disrespect them by saying no.” Naya replied.

Shanelle looked through the doors to see the Queens who were whispering to each other at a table and rolled her eyes.

“Are you here to antagonize me or does this conversation have a point?” Shanelle asked.

“Although I should just sit back, relax, and watch you inevitably crash and burn like the failure that you are, I’m actually here to help you out,” Naya replied.

“How generous of you Princess,” Shanelle said as she rolled her eyes.

“Yes, quite. Not that you deserve my help, allow me to introduce you to a few of the ladies of the court. Meet Duchess Kayla Nottingham of House Vescovi, Duchess Kaitlyn Winslow of House Fierro, Lady Jacqueline Yearling of House Weathermane, Lady Patricia Cullen of House Aster, Baroness Diana Ericson of House DiVello, Baroness Bianca Varness of Comery Isle, and lastly, Countess Madeleine Amaranth of House Amaranth.” Naya said as she introduced each of the ladies.

Shanelle smiled politely.

“It's nice to meet each of you, ladies.”

Naya scoffed.

“My dears, meet the woman who will plunge us all into debt, death, and despair,” Naya said to the ladies as she introduced Shanelle.

“It must really bother you that Marquise is my soon-to-be husband.” Shanelle quipped.

Naya waved her off.

“Oh please. You two won't make it to a year.”

Shanelle shook her head.

“It must really bother you that he chose someone who isn't a drunk just like her mother.”

“Excuse me?!” Naya’s voice raised.

“Yes, I know all about her and how she died. I even know about the ladies you brought with you. I also know you thought bringing them with you would intimidate me but it doesn't. Take Countess Madeleine for example. I know she was engaged to Marquise’s older brother Leo. But thanks to their dad it was a disaster and inevitably it fell apart. Shortly thereafter, Leo abdicated. I also know that Lady Jacqueline’s older brother was convicted in Italy of a double murder. I also know that both Baronesses are half-sisters because their father couldn't keep it in his pants or to Baroness Diana’s mother. Lady Patricia’s father and uncle are under investigation by Interpol, for their business dealings with the Saudi government. Duchess Kayla has all but squandered her family’s fortune on get-rich-quick schemes, and Duchess Kaitlyn has been accused of being a spy for the kingdom of Gemmora. But I bet you didn't think I would know any of that, did you, Princess?” Shanelle asked.

Naya was stuck.

“That's what I thought.”

“Why you insolent little mutt!” Naya sneered as she stepped to Shanelle.

“Who you calling a mutt?” Nina asked as she and the girls walked up.

“This is a private conversation that doesn’t involve you!” Naya snapped at Nina.

“Actually it does. Princess Naya meet Nina Keane.” Shanelle said.

“Why the hell would I want to meet her?” Naya asked.

“Because I thought it was pertinent that Nina meet the woman who set her brother up.” Shanelle replies.

“I don’t even know her brother!”

“You know how you called my ex and lied to him? That very same ex is her twin brother.” Shanelle said.

Naya cleared her throat.

“Not that I owe either one of you an explanation, but I've already apologized to Marquise for my indiscretion.”

“You mean you stood in his bedroom doorway and tried to play the victim?” Shanelle asked.

Shanelle's crew cackled, and she knew Naya was close to snapping; she just needed to push her a little more over the edge.

“You know it's sad that you, a woman who's supposed to be of such high regard and social status, would degrade and humiliate herself for a man who has repeatedly told her that he doesn't want her. As a matter of fact, I wonder what your husband would think if he found out you were actively continuing to throw yourself at Marquise.”

Shanelle could see Naya was about to break.

“It must really truly bother you that at the end of this tea, I'll be the one in his bed. I'll be the one he wakes up to tomorrow morning. It must infuriate you that I'm the one he loves. And it must break your heart that I'm the one he'll be marrying. Not you. You made your decision, Naya. And Marquise made his. His decision is me and me alone. Not. You.”

Naya seethed before she shoulder-checked Shanelle as she stomped back inside the estate with her friends behind her.

“Now can we beat her ass?” Nina asked impatiently.

“Patience my young grasshopper. Besides, it's time for my closing remarks. We are gonna end this thing with a bang. So get ready.” Shanelle replies as she leads the girls back inside.

As they made their way back inside, whispered words could be heard. Most of them are positive and in Shanelle’s favor. One positive word, in particular, came from Olivia Nevrakis, the Duchess of Lythikos. Marquise told her Olivia is extremely hard to impress but it seems that she's achieved the seemingly impossible.

As the girls made their way back to their seats, Nina took the opportunity to have a little fun. She walked past Queen Genevieve and hip-checked her, causing her to spill her drink all over the table.

“Why you clumsy little!” Queen Genevieve seethed. “Look at what you've done!”

“Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry! It was an accident!” Nina apologized.

“I should have you arrested for this!” Genevieve sneered.

“Come now, Genevieve. It was an accident. It's not like she meant to do it on purpose.” Shanelle said to Queen Genevieve.

Shanelle walked away with Nina while hiding stifling her laugh

“Have fun babe?” Shanelle asked her best friend.

“I sure did,” Nina replied proudly.

“Good. Now let's head back to our seats.”

She and Nina walked to their table where Nina took her seat, and Shanelle remained standing to give her ending remarks.

“Once again, I would like to thank all of you for joining me here today. I know that many of you had a preconceived notion about me and I accept that. I'm a newcomer here. Many of you have been here for decades. But it is my sincere hope that I was able to change your minds, at least some of your minds, about me. So again, thank you so much for spending your afternoon with me here at my duchy.”

That's when Naya stood up and walked over to Shanelle.

“If I may, I'd like to propose a toast to Her Regency. If she doesn't mind?”

Shanelle internally rolled her eyes.

“Go right ahead, Princess.”

Naya smiled venomously at Shanelle. Luckily, her girls were ready to jump.

“Your Regency I'd like to toast to you. May you not be the common American mutt you've always been. Although I don't have any high hopes for you as Queen, here's to praying that you don't doom us all to hell. Because let's all be honest, you don't belong here or with His Regency. But here you proudly stand with your god-awful-looking goons at your side. Ready to ruin the only kingdom many of us call home. Cheers.”

Naya ended her toast by throwing her drink at Shanelle. That's when her girls stood up ready to throw hands.

“OH HELL NO!” Rob shouted.

“Oops! It seems I've accidentally spilled my drink. Do forgive me for being so clumsy, Your Regency.” Naya said mockingly.

“NOW CAN WE BEAT HER ASS?!” Nina asked.

“You know what?” Shanelle replied.

That was all it took for Shanelle to swing on Naya. Naya stumbled back then looked at Shanelle in shock.

“Something you need to know about this American mutt and her goons: Bitch…we fight.” Shanelle said before she tackled Naya to the ground.

And the fight was on.

When Naya’s friends tried to intervene, Shanelle’s crew was right there to back her up. Many of the guests had to get out of dodge as shoes, glasses, and other objects were thrown as well as fists. You would've thought that it was an episode of Bad Girls Club. It took over three dozen guards to separate the two groups of women. And when the dust settled, Shanelle and her crew stood tall.

“Gladys!” Shanelle shouted.

“Yes, Your Regency?” Gladys asked.

“Get this bitch and her scallywags the fuck out of my estate!” Shanelle replies.

Gladys nodded resolutely.

“And oh! One more thing, Gladys. You see those two old crones cowering in the corner over there?” Shanelle asked, pointing to Regina and Genevieve.”You can throw their no good asses out too!” Shanelle growled.

“At once Your Regency!”

“Are you insane, child?” Queen Genevieve asked.

“This is outrageous!” Queen Regina shouted.

That's when Shanelle put her foot down.

“Shut up! Both of you! I have had all I am going to take out of the two of you! Whether you two or anyone else likes it or not: I am the next Queen! And I will not be disrespected! Not by you two, not by Naya, not by her scallywag friends or anyone else for that fucking matter! And since you two invited the bitch, you can leave with her.”

Shanelle looked at Naya.

“And you! If you ever step to me and mine again…” Shanelle sneered.

“Bitch it's on sight!” Nina said.

“All fucking day!” Robin added.

“Y’all fucked around and found out!” Bron quipped

“GET THEM OUT OF HERE NOW!” Shanelle shouted.

Everyone left in attendance watched as Regina, Genevieve, Naya, and her friends all screamed and shouted in protest as they were dragged out of Shanelle’s estate. Once they were gone Shanelle turned to her friends behind her.

“Y’all good?” she asked.

“Yeah. We good.” Rob answered.

Shanelle turned to Nina with a smirk.

“You feel better?” Shanelle said to her.

“Yeah. It felt really good to beat her ass.” Nina replied.

The two smiled at each other. That's when Olivia spoke up.

“Well, it's about damn time someone put that spoiled brat and those two bats in their places. You did well, Your Regency.”

Shanelle nodded.

“Thank you, Duchess Olivia. I appreciate your kind words.”

“Please. Call me Olivia. And you're welcome. Now I don’t know about the others that are still here but, if you need it, you have a friend in Lythikos.”

“Duchess Olivia is right.” Duchess Mildred spoke up, “we stand with you, Your Regency. You have comported yourself admirably. I honestly don’t know that I would have had the grace to put up with the Princess and her incessant pestering.”

Shanelle nodded.

“Thank you, everyone. And Olivia, I'm sorry about your dress.”

Olivia waved her off.

“It's a dress. I'll be fine. Now I think you have a mess to clean up but I also think you sent one hell of a message.”

Shanelle chuckled softly.

“And what message is that?” she asked Olivia.

“Don't fuck with me,” Olivia replied with a wink before leaving.

Shanelle watched as the rest of the guests filed out. When everyone was gone, Shanelle let out a breath she didn't know she was holding before turning to her friends.

“I don’t know what I would've done if you girls weren't here. I appreciate y'all more than you know.” Shanelle said as her voice hitched.

“There was no way we would let you do this by yourself, babe. Especially me. It's been us against the world for years. And that's the way it's gonna stay.” Nina said to her.

“Hell yeah!” the girls say in agreement.

Shanelle shook her head with a smile.

“FabBabes for life!” Shanelle said to her girls.

“All day bitches!” the girls say back.

The girls laughed together.

“Now there's glass and shit everywhere and we're all barefoot. So be careful where you step.” Shanelle said as she and the girls began to make their way out of the dining room.

After a trip to the infirmary, a good long hot soaking bath, a good meal, and a change of clothes, Shanelle and the girls were sitting on her bed enjoying some wine. They may have been battered and bruised but the girls were victorious.

“Whew! What a goddamn day. Amirite?” Shanelle asked her crew.

“Chile! We proved why we're the baddest today.” Bron replied.

“Come on somebody!” Rob agreed.

“So just so we're clear. She's been calling you an American mutt this whole time?” Aly asked.

“Yup. The entire time that I've been here I've been an American mutt.” Shanelle replied.

“Mmmhmm. She needed her ass beat.” Dee quipped.

“Agreed.” Chutney agreed.

Shanelle snickered.

“Y’all are the greatest support system a girl could ever ask for.”

“I just have one question. What do you think your fiance will do when he finds out?” Rob asks.

“He already knows,” Marquise replied as he walked into the room.

The girls all look at him as he walks into the room.

“How do you know what happened?” Nina asked.

“A.) it's my job to know. B.) I had hidden cameras installed on the off chance Naya would show her ass. And apparently, I was right.” Marquise replies.

The girls looked at each other.

“I'm gonna say this now, you sir, are weird as hell,” Bron said to him.

Marquise shrugged.

“Maybe. Or maybe it's the fact that I know how Naya operates. She is the type that will instigate a fight or argument and then play the victim. And I knew she wouldn't pass up an opportunity to try and humiliate Shanelle in public.”

“Your ex has issues.” Rob pipes up.

“Ones that I'm so happy to unsubscribed from,” he said as he poured himself a glass of wine.

“So what happens now?” Dee asked.

Marquise reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flash drive.

“Simple. I make a phone call and the camera footage on this flash drive exposes Naya and stops whatever attempt she’ll try to make, to make Shanelle look bad.” Marquise replied.

Marquise smirked before pulling out his phone and dialing a number.

“Who are you calling?” Shanelle asked.

“Donnie! Listen I’m sorry to call you so late but you know that one favor you owe me? Yeah, that one…” he said as he walked away.

“Who's Donnie?” Chut asked.

“Donnie is the Editor-in-Chief for the CBC,” Shanelle replies.

“What's that?” Dee asked.

“Think CNN but strictly Cordonian. According to Marquise, Donnie has covered the Royal Families for years.”

“You mean he's talking to the press?” Nina asked.

“Talked to and convinced him to run a counter-story to the press release that Naya is having drafted that says she and her entourage were unfairly attacked by Shanelle and her friends.” Marquise replied.

The girls all started talking at once.

“Whoa! Whoa! Calm down ladies! By this time tomorrow, Donnie will have the footage and the story ready to publish on Monday. So you all have nothing to worry about.”

“Except for finishing this bottle of wine,” Nina said as she poured herself a glass.

“You are gonna drink me out of house and home!” Shanelle said to her.

“And your point?” Nina asked before downing her drink.

Everyone in the room broke out into laughter. The girls spent the rest of the night gossiping and giggling. The next day it was time to say goodbye. And the girls weren't ready to say goodbye.

“I don't wanna goooooo!” Bron whined.

“We knowwwwww!” Rob, Dee, and Chut agreed.

“Hmmmm…maybe I can convince Thom to film a movie here.” Aly quipped.

Shanelle shook her head with a smile.

“Awww! C’mere girls!” Shanelle said to her friends.

They all came together for one big group hug.

“You girls don't have to leave.”

“Really?” Nina asked.

“Yes really. Y'all don't have to leave. But y'all getting the fuck up outta here! Bye! Get out!” Shanelle replied.

The girls booed as Shanelle cackled.

“Look I’m trying to fuck my fiance at all hours of the night and I’m not trying to have an audience.”

The girls each made a face.

“But in all seriousness, thank you all so much. I had the greatest time. And we got to whoop that trick.”

“Ayyy!” the girls replied.

Shanelle laughed as the private cars came around.

“Y’all be sure to text me when each of you lands.”

The girls saluted before getting into their respective cars and pulling off. Shanelle watched until the cars were out of view before she walked back to the entrance where Marquise was waiting with open arms.

“I hope you had fun this weekend my love.”

She felt him wrap his arms around her.

“I did. Having them here meant the world to me. Fighting and all.”

He kissed her forehead.

“Stop that,” she said to him.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I’m beginning to love it,” she whispered.

He smirked before kissing her forehead softly again.

“That's the point, my love. I want you to love it.”

She slid her arms around his neck.

“Why are we still outside? The faster we get inside, the faster I get to rip this suit off of you,” she said to him.

He shook his head before leading her inside the estate. Once inside he picked her up and carried her back to her bedroom. Once inside her bedroom, she wasted no time pulling him into a deep kiss. As he walked her backward to the bed their legs got tangled and they tumbled onto the mattress causing the two to break out into laughter.

“Have I told you I love you?” he asked her.

“Lately?” she replied

He rolled his eyes with a smirk.

“Yes, Tyrese. Lately.”

“No. But you can always tell me now.”

“Why tell you when I can show you?” he asked.

“Show me how?” she asked.

“Like this…” he trailed off.

He crashed his lips into hers. She felt his passion, his hunger, and especially his lust for her at that moment. He went from kissing her lips, to kissing down her jaw and neck. Only stopping to nibble on her earlobe. He trailed soft slow kisses down her neck until he was sucking and gently scraping on her pulse line with his teeth. She moaned softly. He stopped long enough to look into her eyes.

"God I love making you do that."

He kissed her again before pulling her down towards the giant mattress under the stars.

"I am yours, Your Regency."

"Damn right you're mine. Now, let's get you out of this outfit."

His mouth found hers as they quickly undressed each other. He kissed his way from her lips, down her neck, and across her collarbone. He placed hungry and heated kisses all down and across her breasts. He listened to her chest rise and fall with each breath that she took.

"God I need you," she whispered.

"As you wish, my Queen."

He went back to kissing down her lower body. He rolled over onto his back with her sitting on his face.

"Marquise!" she moaned softly.

"Try not to scream so loud we wouldn't want to scare the staff. Ohhh and you might want to hang on."

When he descended onto her clit she nearly jumped out of her skin. All she could feel was his mouth.

"Fuck yes! Feels so good!" She screamed as she leaned back on her knees as she rode his tongue.

Her body was on fire. His mouth felt like heaven. Every time he made a sound it would send shockwaves shooting through her. Her clit throbbed harder and harder every time she felt his tongue slide over it.

"Mmmmmmm..." he hummed as he feasted on her.

"Shit! Marquise! Don't stop! Don't stop! God! Don't! Stop!” She shouted.

Shanelle was about to break and he knew it. With his arms tightened around her thighs he went for it. He drove his tongue inside her hot core and didn't stop until he heard her scream. Her thighs twitched and her body shuddered as her orgasm shredded everything in its path. When he let her go he could still taste her on his lips.

"So fucking good!" He said as he licked his fingers and winked at her.

"God, you don't play fair!" She said while trying to catch her breath.

"You forget Kings don't play fair."

She rolled her eyes at him.

He slowly dragged his tongue up her body. Stopping only to play with her breasts. At this point, he wanted and needed to be inside her in the worst way possible.

"Fuck! Come here." He said to her.

He needed to feel her. He wanted to feel her vaginal muscles clench and release. When he brought her to her feet he plunged his tongue into her mouth. With his lips still on hers he positioned himself between her legs.

With a condom on, he inhaled sharply as he circled her entrance.

"You ready?" He asked.

When she nodded her head, he thrust his hips forward plunging himself inside her. As he threw her legs over his shoulders, she grabbed the rug underneath her.

"Oh My God! Oh My God! Oh My God! Yes! Yes! Yes!" She shouted.

"That's it, love! Tell me what you want! Tell me how good it feels! Tell me how you like it! I want to hear you, baby!"

He was doing it to her. Just like she always knew him to do. He was using his words to ignite her fire and desire.

"Marquise! Give it to me! Fuck me! I need you! I need this!" She shouted.

"Yeah! That's it, baby! Take it! Take this dick!"

When she looked into his eyes he had this raw carnality in them. Every thrust was more powerful than the last. The grip he had on her thighs tightened. She begged him to give it to her and he was more than happy to oblige. She was getting dangerously close to her climax and he wasn't too far off from his own.

"I-I'm about to cum! I—!" She struggled to say.

"That's it cum on this dick! Let it out! Let it all out! Cum for me!"

He was barely hanging on himself. One final thrust of his hips was all it took to throw her over her edge. Her eyes rolled back and her body shuddered as her orgasm ran through her.

"Yes! Cum on this dick! Cum for me!" He encouraged her. One last roll of his hips was all it took; to take him out.

"Shit!" He hissed as he lost himself with her.

When it was all said and done; they were both breathless, tired, and satisfied.

"Well, that was fun!" He piped up.

Shanelle just shook her head and chuckled.

"You have no idea what you mean to me, do you?" He asked.

"After what just happened I have a pretty good idea. Although it never hurts to compare notes." She replied.

They snuggled together under the covers.

“This is all I want. You. In my arms. Every night.”

“Is this before or after you blow my back out?” she asked.

He just snickered.

“Both,” he replied.

“Of course. I want it to be this way every night as well.”

“Good. Now I have to get some sleep. I have to be back at the palace tomorrow.”

“Why can't you stay?” she asked.

“Well, interviews for commission and council heads start tomorrow,” he replied.

Shanelle nodded.

“Now you don't have to come back right away if you don't want to, my love.”

“So I can stay here for a few days?” she asked.

“Mmhmm. You'll have to be back by Thursday. Because come Saturday I have a title to retain.” he replied.

“What title is that?” she asked.

“I have been Master Of The Hunt for 4 years running. If and when I win Saturday I will not only have won 5 years straight but I will become Grand Master Of The Hunt.” he replied.

“Exciting.”

“Indeed, and once I win I will get to celebrate with the most beautiful woman in the world on my arm.”

Shanelle blushed.

“I like seeing this side of you.”

“What side?” he asked.

“This highly confident, strong, takes no prisoners' side. Very sexy,” she replied.

“Thank you, my love. You have to remember that I was groomed for this. Readied and prepared on the off chance that I would be called upon to lead and now? That time has come.”

Shanelle softly kissed his shoulder as she snuggled against him.

“Don't do that.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because I need to get some sleep. Not go rounds, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, or 8,” he replied.

Shanelle giggled.

“Fine. I'll play with you later.”

“Thank you.”

She drifted off to sleep listening to the beat of his heart. When she woke up the next morning, he was already gone. But he left her a cute note and a vase filled with beautiful red roses on her nightstand.

These roses are red. And violets are blue. Never forget my love, my heart belongs to you. XOXO

She shook her head with a smile.

Meanwhile, Marquise was in his office at the palace interviewing candidates for several different council positions. While he had a moment to himself he pulled out his phone to text Shanelle to check-in. Just as he got ready to text her, there was a loud banging on his office door. He smiled to himself because he knew who it was.

“Just open the door Naya,” he called out.

Naya stormed in. Her face contorted with rage.

“What the entire hell is this?!” she asked.

“Whatever do you mean Naya?” he replied.

She slammed a newspaper down on his desk.

“Princess Naya Laurent-Sauvageon of House Sauvageon attacks Her Regency in a fit of jealous rage!” Naya read the headline to him.

Marquise looks at her totally unfazed.

“Maybe next time you'll learn to pick on someone your own size,” he said with a smirk.

That's when it clicked for her.

“You! You did this! You’re the one having the press run this smear campaign, aren't you?” Naya asked.

Marquise shrugged.

“It's not a smear campaign if it's true,” he replies.

“This will ruin my reputation, Marquise!”

“Funny. You weren't thinking about your reputation when you attacked Shanelle for no reason other than you wanted to.”

“You reckless bastard! How could you be so damn cruel?!” Naya asked.

“Because you decided to be stupid enough to test my patience. I told you to stay away from her but you won't and don't listen. So now it's time for you to learn the hard way.” he replied.

“I can't believe you would do this to me. I thought you loved me!”

“I did. I loved you dearly. But now I don’t care. And that's your fault.” Marquise said nonchalantly.

Naya was flabbergasted. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

“What happened to you? This isn't who you are Marquise. You would never be this cruel to me. What the hell did that mutt do to you?” Naya asked.

Marquise slammed his fist down on his desk, causing Naya to jump slightly.

“Don't you ever call her that again!” he growled at her.

“I will call her whatever the hell I want. And there's nothing you can do about it!” Naya sneered.

Marquise cocked his head to the side as he leaned back in his chair.

“Are you threatening me?” he asked.

Naya crossed her arms and glared at him.

“Not only am I threatening you, Your Regency. But I am here to tell you that I will use all of my influence on the court to make sure that this frivolous engagement of yours is seen as a farce and that your mutt is humiliated!” Naya replied.

“Be careful what you say to me Naya,” he warned her.

“Or what?” Naya asked.

Marquise smirked.

“I heard your husband is returning from his Humanitarian fellowship to Ethiopia today. It's been a long time since he and I have spoken.”

Naya gave him a death glare

“Perhaps we'll have a chance to speak on Saturday. After all, you and him will be hosting the Grand Hunt this weekend.”

Marquise watched the fire drain out of Naya.

“Now that we have that settled, I have other matters to attend to. You can see yourself out.”

“This is not over you son of a bitch!” Naya hissed.

That's when Marquise cleared his throat, stood up, and walked over to the door to close and lock it before turning back to face her.

“You never learn do you?” he asked her.

Naya glared at him without saying a thing.

“I have tried to give you grace but you continue to try me. You continue to defy me. And now I've had enough.” he sneered.

“I'm not afraid of you!”

Marquise shrugged.

“Maybe not but you do hold a mountain of debt that is still owed. And if you continue on like this, even with Tariq’s money in your corner I promise to make that debt impossible to pay back.”

“You wouldn't dare!”

“I wouldn't dare what?” he asked.

“You wouldn't dare intentionally bankrupt me just to protect some commoner!” she replied.

He grabbed her chin roughly and brought her face close to him.

“I will not be defied, Naya. Not even by you. So as long as you do as I say, you have nothing to worry about. But if you intend to defy me, you and your father will get a summons of repayment with an amount that neither of you can pay.”

Seeing the tears of fear shining in her eyes was all the answer he needed.

“You will not defy me, will you Princess?” he asked.

“No, Your Regency. I won't defy you,” she whispered.

He let go of her chin and moved her hair behind her ear.

“Good girl. Now go home. You and your husband have guests to prepare for.”

Naya took a step back from him before he opened the door for her and she left his office without any further incident. Later that night, Marquise was just about to leave his office when he got a knock at the door. It was Constantine.

“I hope I'm not interrupting His Regency.”

“What do you want?” Marquise asked him.

Connie took a seat across from Marquise.

“I had an interesting conversation with Princess Naya. You’re blackmailing her?!” Constantine asked.

“And here comes the moral police,” Marquise replied.

“As if that article wasn't bad enough, you threaten blackmail?!”

Marquise downed the drink he had in his hand before glaring at Constantine.

“Oh fuck off! Blackmail has always been your bread and butter. So don't you dare sit here and chastise me! She and her father wouldn't even have the debt if it wasn't for you!” Marquise spat at Connie.

“For someone who hates me so much, you act just like me, my son.”

Marquise chuckled dryly.

“So I've made our people suffer under high taxes, shuttered our borders, destroyed our kingdom’s economy, all while drinking myself into cirrhosis, and sleeping with any hole that had a pair of legs attached to it like you?” Marquise asked.

“What I do in my life is my business!” Constantine replied.

“And yet you flaunt it for the world to see. Making it everyone’s business.”

Connie looked disgusted at Marquise.

“I bet you enjoy this. You finally get the power you have always whined about having. You finally have the throne you always dreamed of. To think everything I worked for, everything I strived for as King will now go to you.”

“Is there a point to this?” Marquise asked.

“Yes. Pretty soon you'll find out that you can't have it all. You will have to make decisions that you won't like. Ones that will haunt you. And you'll have no one to blame but yourself and that girl you're so in love with.” Connie answered.

“You think I'll rule the same way you do, is that what you're saying?” Marquise asked.

“Ruling is hereditary, my son. You will pledge your life to serve the people just like I did. And whether you like it or not, I will always be your father.” Connie replied.

Marquise nodded.

“You're right it is. And thankfully for me I have my mother to thank for how I will rule. Not you.”

Constantine stared venomously at his son.

“You're lucky I have no power now. Otherwise, you'd be in chains!” Connie hissed.

“Ahhh yes. Where would I be without Constantine Rys and his now truly idle threats?” Marquise asked mockingly.

“You have always been an ungrateful brat!” Connie replies.

“And you've always been a piss poor excuse of a father. Never any good to either one of your sons.”

“I have always been good to you and Leo!”

Marquise poured himself another drink.

“Then tell me again how and why Leo and Maddie’s engagement fell apart.”

Connie went quiet.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hit a nerve?” Marquise asked.

“You keep your mouth shut boy!” Connie hissed.

“Why of course, Your Majesty. We wouldn't want the world to find out the actual reason Leo abdicated is because you slept with his fiancee and got her pregnant. It's a good thing that Regina convinced her to terminate the pregnancy and how fortuitous for you that you got her and Leo to each sign an NDA. Just to protect your image.”

Constantine’s nostrils flared.

“Now get out!” Marquise sneered.

Connie got up to walk away and as he did he said this.

“Try as you might, my son. You will never be ANYTHING like Eleanor. But you will always be a part of me and I of you. We are much more alike than you think.”

Marquise watched Connie walk out the door. He took a few minutes to compose himself before he went to bed. The next morning he was just waking up the next morning when he noticed steam coming from under the bathroom door. When he looked up, Shanelle was coming out of the bathroom in her robe with her hair wet.

“Well, good morning handsome,” she said with a smile.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I missed you,” she replied.

“What time did you get in?” he asked.

“I got to the palace late last night and when I got here you were already asleep. I didn't want to disturb you so I crawled into bed with you. I woke up about an hour ago and decided to get in the shower.” she replied.

Marquise shook his head with a smile.

“Come here,” he said to her.

She crawled into bed with him. When she felt his arms around her she shivered.

“Well, you smell good.”

“Thank you. So how was your day yesterday?” she asked.

“It was fine until Naya and my father each paid me a visit,” he replied.

Shanelle winced.

“Yikes on yikes on yikes.”

“Imagine how I felt. Thankfully, she's gone home because her husband came back from Ethiopia yesterday. And the former King is in Fydelia with Regina so I shouldn't have to deal with either of them until the Grand Hunt Saturday.”

“You mean we shouldn't. I want to sit in on the interviews if that's okay.”

“Of course my love. I would love to have your input on the selections.”

“I want to know who it is we're working with when it comes to the kingdom and the new Monarchy. I need to know that we can trust them to put the people’s needs first.”

That put a smile on Marquise’s face.

“Well let's get dressed, my Queen. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

Marquise hopped in the shower, the two got dressed and then had breakfast before they tackled the selection interviews. The interview process went smoothly. Some of the leaders Shanelle liked and others she could do without. And one interview shocked her. It was the first time she met Marquise’s cousin, Giancarlo Rys.

“Carlo! It's good to see you, cousin!” Marquise said as he greeted his cousin.

“It's good to see you too, cousin. Thank you for the opportunity to interview. Although I’m not sure what position it is you want me to fill.” Giancarlo said to him.

“I'll be happy to tell you. But first, allow me to introduce you to my fiancee,” Marquise said before turning to Shanelle, “my love I know this is a shock but I want you to meet my cousin, Giancarlo Rys.”

Giancarlo bowed.

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Regency.”

“The pleasure’s all mine. I had no idea he had a cousin.”

“Yes. My father Sebastian was Connie's younger brother. He tragically passed away when Marquise was barely 2 months old.”

“Oh goodness. Please sit down.” Shanelle says to Giancarlo.

Giancarlo smiled.

“Thank you, Your Regency,” he said as he took his seat.

“How is Nadia doing?” Marquise asked Carlo.

“My mother is doing well. When I told her you reached out she was so excited. She wanted to come but she's still recovering from her hip surgery.” Carlo replied.

“I understand. Please give her my love.”

“I will do that.”

Giancarlo looked at Marquise with an eyebrow raised.

“Alright cousin. You have me here. What do you have up your sleeve?” Giancarlo asked Marquise.

Marquise snickers.

“You know me well. I'll get straight to the point. I want you to join the new Monarchy that Shanelle and I are forming. More specifically I want you to have your father’s old post as Keeper Of The Royal Archives.

Giancarlo blinked at him.

“You want me?! Marquise, I'm a history professor! Not a noble.”

“I know. But you have been a historian your whole life. You are perfect for this role. And I’m sure Sebastian would be proud to have you follow in his footsteps.”

“Does it really mean that much to you?” Carlo asked him.

“Of course. Again you are perfect for this role. Besides, Errol has got to go. He's a relic at this point.” Marquise replies.

Carlo shook his head with a chuckle.

“And what does my dear uncle say about it?” Carlo asked.

“He's got his own problems to deal with,” Marquise replied.

“Speaking of which,” Giancarlo began to say before looking toward Shanelle, “before I go any further does she know?”

Marquise shook his head no.

“Know what?” Shanelle asked.

“My father has cancer,” Marquise answered.

Shanelle was stunned.

“What?! Cancer?” Shanelle asked.

“Yes. He has a rare and aggressive form of lung cancer.” Marquise replied.

“Oh my God. I had no idea.”

“Not many people know about it.”

“Mariana told me that the surgery was unsuccessful.”

Marquise nodded before looking to Shanelle.

“Giancarlo’s wife Mariana is the Surgical Oncologist who performed his surgery. Unfortunately, the surgery wasn't successful and it metastasized to his liver.”

“Meaning what?” Shanelle asked.

“He's dying. He has maybe 6-8 months left to live according to him.” Marquise replied.

Shanelle was stunned.

“I'm sorry to surprise you, my love. I wasn't trying to hide this from you. I just wanted to find the right moment to tell you.”

Shanelle nodded slowly.

“No, I get it. It's just…a lot. And I now have so many questions but they can wait for later.”

Marquise squeezed her hand gratefully.

“I appreciate that. And I promise to answer all the questions you have. Now back to the matter at hand.”

Marquise looked at Giancarlo.

“What do you say, Carlo? Are you in?” Marquise asked.

“I don’t know, cousin. It is an amazing opportunity. But I don’t know if I can give up my job as a professor.” Giancarlo replied.

“I understand that. And I would never ask you to give up your teaching job. But I need you, Carlo. I will even give you a light schedule so you don't have to give up your students at the university.” Marquise said to him.

Giancarlo laughed.

“You drive a hard bargain cousin.”

Marquise rolled his eyes with a smirk.

“Quit being an old man and say yes.”

Giancarlo shook his head and then turned to Shanelle.

“If you'll have me Your Regency, I will happily accept the position.”

“Since it means that much to His Regency, I would love to have you.”

Giancarlo nodded.

“Alright cousin. I'm in. And besides, it's like you said, Errol is an old relic. I'm sure he still uses filing cabinets and floppy disks to keep official records.”

Marquise extended his hand and shook Giancarlo’s hand.

“It'll be good to have you here, cousin,” Marquise said to his cousin.

“Indeed it will. Now if you and Her Regency will excuse me, I have some good news to deliver.”

“It was good to meet you, Giancarlo.” Shanelle said to him.

“Likewise. And since we're practically family, please call me Carlo.” Giancarlo replies.

“Will do.”

Giancarlo smiled at Shanelle.

“I'll see you soon…Your Majesty.” Giancarlo said to Marquise before taking his leave.

0 notes

attllhak · 3 years ago

Text

Surface Too Soon .3

@tortilla-of-courage @emenerd hey look it’s chapter 3. Two chapters in a day and I’m on a roll.

General warnings because Ghirahim is in this chapter and he’s, well, he’s Ghirahim. And he’s being creepy.

Anyways, enjoy! (And to Tortilla, sorry for torturing you with vague updates as I wrote. The boy is fine, just shaken up and scared.)

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

Chapter 3: On The Surface

Link did his best to swallow back every pained whimper as the strange woman ran her hands over his body. He still didn’t want to move, because ow, and it wasn’t like he was in a position to complain.

He’d already survived, which was more than he’d expected after he made it past the clouds.

He did end up crying out as she made it to his ankle, jerking it up away from her, sparking more pain along his leg and side.

She sat back, glaring at him slightly.

“Well, you’re not walking,” she huffed, glaring at the offending ankle, which was throbbing quite painfully. “I’ll need to actually be allowed to take a look at that to assess the damage,”

Link frowned at her, shifting his leg a bit further away.

This seemed to frustrate the woman further. “I am trying to help you. I can’t do that unless you let me.”

Link considered this, and considered the pain he was in, and then considered that, ulterior motives aside, he had no idea where he could find help without this woman. Slowly, because ow, he moved his leg back down to her.

He had to grit his teeth as she slid off his boot and sock to inspect his ankle, and then declared it not broken, but still very badly injured.

His ribs, it turned out, were broken in a few places. Which explains the crack he felt.

One of his shoulders had been dislocated, which the woman popped back into place, which was a LOT of ow.

Eventually, with a lot of complaining and pained noises and slow movements, she got Link sitting up against the sand he’d sid down. So he was still kinda laying down.

Which is when he finally got a look at his surroundings. Hard, red rock rose up all around him, the slope above and behind him was all loose sand, and some kind of thick, red liquid sloshed nearby, giving off heat.

“Who are you?” He asked, and filed away quickly that ow, talking hurts.

The woman looked at him, pausing from where she was using the fabric that had been covering her face to wrap his foot. She looked very annoyed for some reason he couldn’t identify.

Link didn’t know why he’d pissed her off by landing here, but he felt a bit bad for it.

“My name is Impa,” she said finally, turning back to his ankle. “I am a servant to the goddess Hylia, meant to protect the Spirit Maiden on her journey to fulfil her destiny,” she finished tying off the fabric and looked up to meet Link’s eyes. “You are not her,”

He lifted his good arm, since the other still hurt to move. “Is that why you’re mad at me?”

She frowned at him, like he wasn’t making sense.

“I’m sorry,” he said, hoping that would help.

This got him a glare.

“You do not need to apologize for not being who I was waiting for,” Impa told him bluntly. “I’m mad, but not at you. I’m mad because you shouldn’t be down here yet. I should be meeting the Spirit Maiden, not the Chosen Hero. Regardless, you are in no shape to fulfil your duty, and I see no sign of Her Grace arriving here. I’ll take you somewhere safer to heal, and we’ll talk more about your destiny then,”

Link had no idea what she meant by most of that, but it was nice to know she wasn’t mad at him.

He did make a few pained noises as she picked him up, balancing him in her arms.

Every movement as she carried him away from the heat and rocks was ow, ow, ow. He really was a giant bruise by now. Also ow.

The green that started popping up was awe inducing. Especially as there came more and more green. Link had never seen so much green before. And the trees! There were so many trees!

He probably should have paid more attention to where they were going, but he was too enthralled with his surroundings to care.

Which was when he noticed the tiny birds.

All thoughts of pain and worry were out the window at this discovery, and he all but begged Impa to stop and let him look at the tiny birds. She said later, and he tried pouting, which didn’t work, and then needled away until she agreed to bring him a tiny bird to hold when they stopped.

That had Link very excited.

Eventually, Link was set down on a very big plant, Impa called it a mushroom when he asked, and was told to stay put. Impa promised to bring him a tiny bird and some healing items.

Link, of course, did not stay put.

His right ankle couldn’t support his weight, so he ended up crawling around instead, doing his best to keep his weight off his left arm.

When Impa got back and finally found him, he was lying on his stomach and chatting with a small creature he met called a kikwi, who was also face down on the ground.

Impa was not pleased in the least.

He drank the potion she brought him, and even got to hold one of the tiny birds after he’d done so. It felt so small and fragile in his hands, and it was so cute. Even his new kikwi friend stood up to also coo over the tiny bird with him.

Machi didn’t understand why Link was so fascinated with the bird, but Machi also was a bit confused by the whole ‘came from the sky thing’, so Link didn’t hold it against him.

Impa just seemed frustrated with him, proceeding to lecture him about why laying on his stomach was bad for his ribs and how he was just going to hurt himself more. Something about pressure on the breaks or whatever.

Link was only about half listening to her. Oh he was trying to pay attention to what she was saying, of course he was. He always got in trouble in class for not focusing, and he knew it was even more important to focus on what she was telling him down here, with so many unknowns.

But, there was just so much happening around him! The trees here were HUGE! And there were so many new kinds of plants! And what even was a mushroom and were they all that big? And the little bird was falling asleep in his hands, which was adorable, and there were more birds flying around. And there was a new bug he’d never seen before on the wall over there.

It was hard to focus on her, was the point. He kept getting distracted by all the new things to look at.

“Are you even listening to me?” She asked, frowning at him.

Link, realizing he’d zoned out and missed most of what she’d said, responded as tactfully as he could think of.

He lifted up the tiny bird to her slightly. “I can feel it’s heartbeat,”

Impa slapped her face.

Link got the slightest hint that maybe, maybe, he was pissing her off a bit.

“I’m sorry,” he said, watching her drag the hand down her face. “There’s just a lot of new things around and I’m having trouble focusing on you. If it helps, I’ve kinda always had trouble paying attention when surrounded by new things,”

She looked very unimpressed.

“Fine,” she sighed. “We’ll talk about all that later. But no more lying on your stomach,”

Link nodded seriously, or as seriously as he could manage. “Yes, ma’am.”

She looked very tired, and while Link didn’t know how much time had passed since he’d fallen that morning (he’d never been good with time and today was not a good day for that) he was still pretty sure it was too early in the day for her to look so exhausted.

He was pretty sure he was at fault for that. Maybe he should apologize?

“Are you hungry?” Impa asked finally, after just looking at him for a while.

Link was about to say no, but then his stomach growled and so he nodded instead. Food never hurt, he figured.

“Stay put. I mean it this time,” Impa pointed at him firmly. “I’ll be right back,”

Link watched her walk off, and figured maybe he should actually listen this time. She had seemed awful annoyed.

“So, what’s it like in the sky?” Machi asked as the silence dragged on.

“Oh, it’s great!” Link grinned. “The stories say the goddess sent us up there a long time ago to protect us. We ride around on big birds called loftwings, and it’s so pretty, and I was supposed to participate in this competition called the Wing Ceremony so I could graduate into the senior class and become a knight. Actually, I wonder who won it. I mean, I know Zelda will be disappointed- HOLY HYLIA ZELDA!”

The bird in his hands startled and flew away, and Machi fell over at Link’s outburst. Link’s hands shot up to fist in his hair, panic and worry constricting his chest.

“Zelda is probably so worried about me! I have to get back to Skyloft, I need to tell her I’m okay!” Link gasped, suddenly remembering that little detail he’d forgotten in his excitement. “I gotta get back to the sky!”

“I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed then, Sky Child,”

Link didn’t like the way that voice slithered along his spine like a snake, making all the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He slowly turned his head to see someone standing on one of the mushrooms, smiling at him like a remlit that had just caught a butterfly.

This individual, probably a man if Link had to guess, was very pale, skin fitted white clothing stuck tight like a second skin and a deep red cape sat around the man’s shoulders. Sharp, too big eyes watched Link like he was the most fascinating and precious thing in the world, and it made him feel very uncomfortable. He didn’t like the way this man was looking at him, eyes taking in his form and tracking even the rise and fall of his chest as he wrestled to keep his breathing under control.

There was something very wrong about this man, and Link wanted to be as far away from him as possible. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure if his leg could support his weight yet, not that he’d be able to run very far even if it could.

Where was Impa? She said she’d be right back.

“Don’t bother looking for your bodyguard,” the man grinned, noticing Link breaking eye contact to scan the forest where Impa had gone. “She’s a bit, tied up right now,”

The smile on the man’s face made every nerve and muscle in Link’s body scream “RUN!” at him. But he couldn’t run, he’d never make it away in time.

Stall! He thought desperately at himself. Stall so Impa can get back and get you out of here!

“Wh-who are you?” Link asked, fighting his throat and hating how shaky he sounded.

He’d never been in real danger before, though he was pretty sure that’s what this was, and he was terrified. He didn’t know what to do here!

The man grinned wider, and Link felt his stomach twist into uncomfortable knots.

“Oh how rude,” the man cooed. “I hadn’t introduced myself. I am the Demon Lord who presides over the land you look down upon, this world you call the Surface,” he vanished in a cloud of diamonds, then reappeared inches from Link’s face. “You may call me Ghirahim. In truth, I much prefer to be indulged with my full title: Lord Ghirahim. But I’m not fussy,”

Link backpedalled, crawling as fast as he could to put as much distance between himself and the man as he could.

Ghirahim vanished again, this time appearing behind Link to grab his shoulders. Link froze, fear rooting him to the spot. He didn’t dare breathe.

Where was Impa?!

“I’m much more interested in you, however,” the, the demon cooed almost directly into Link’s ear. He suddenly felt nauseous. “Yes, Your Majesty, you are a much more interesting find. I had actually expected your mortal form to be that of a woman, but I’m not complaining about this little surprise. It’s certainly clever, if nothing else,”

Link swallowed down bile, body tense as he felt the man continue to look him over, even from the awkward angle.

Impa, he thought desperately. Please hurry!

“I-I don’t know w-what you’re t-talking about,” Link stammered out, fighting his very uncooperative voice to keep it from shaking too badly. He didn’t really succeed.

Ghirahim chuckled, the sound directly in his ear causing goosebumps to rise up on his skin. It was warm out, but Link shivered.

“No, of course you don’t, not yet. You just got here,” Ghirahim finally vanished again, appearing in front of him, and Link finally let himself breathe, chest heaving and sending him back onto his elbows. “I had thought that goddess-serving dog would have told you, but no matter. Whether you know or not, it doesn’t change my plans. And you, dear boy, are very important to them,”

The sick, pleased smile on Ghirahim's face made Link want to hurl, and scream, and curl up into a ball and cry. He’d never had to deal with someone this, this deranged before, and he was scared. He was scared, and he wanted to go home. He wanted to be back up on Skyloft with Zelda, getting yelled at for not practicing hard enough. He wanted his best friend to smile and tell him this was all a bad dream and hold him tight and tell him it was going to be okay. Hell, he’d even take dealing with Groose over this.

What he wouldn’t give to go back to this morning, and not be here, trapped under the gaze of a demon who seemed so pleased to have caught him.

“Stay away from him!”

Ghirahim turned, dodging sharply as someone moved to attack him.

Impa!

Link gasped in relief. He had never before been so happy to see someone he’d only known for a few hours.

Impa positioned herself between Link and Ghirahim, glaring down the demon lord and turning herself into a barrier.

“Of course, you’re here,” Ghirahim sneered, lips twisting on his face in disgust. “Come to protect your precious Spirit Maiden, hm?”

“Link,” Impa said, ignoring what Ghirahim was saying but never taking her eyes off him. “Run,”

“Imp-” Link tried, voice still shaky and weak sounding.

“GO!” Impa snapped, and Link scrambled around to get moving.

He knew he wouldn’t get far, being as injured as he was, and who knew what other kinds of monsters there were in the woods. He spotted Machi waving to him and scrambled over, ducking behind one of the mushrooms to hide, waved into a small crack in the stone where he curled up to wait, Machi pulling some of the vines to hide him better.

He could hear fighting beyond his hiding spot, and covered his ears with his hands in the hopes of blocking out the sounds of breaking glass and metal on metal. He squeezed his eyes shut too, stomach and chest twisting uncomfortably at every flash of blue and black light.

He had never been so scared or helpless in his life, and he hated it. He hated it, he hated it, he hated it.

He wanted to go home. To where there were no demons out for him or Spirit Maidens or fighting between people to the death. He wanted Zelda to tell him it was okay, like she would when he had nightmares, or when Groose was a bit meaner than usual. He wanted the biggest worry in his life to be whether or not Groose put something in his food or hit him with a spitball during class.

He was done with the Surface, he wanted to go home!

It was far too long before he realized the sound of fighting had stopped. Did, who won? Was Impa okay? Was Ghirahim going to take him away somewhere for some reason he still didn’t understand?

“Link,”

Link slowly opened his eyes and turned his head at the soft voice.

Impa was crouched down next to his hiding spot. She was bleeding in a few places, and her features were creased with worry, but she was okay.

“Are you hurt?” She asked, once she was certain he was looking at her.

Link shook his head, the movement jerky. “Is, is he, is,” he paused to swallow, finding it hard to get his thoughts across and into words. “Gone?” He finally managed.

Impa nodded. “For now, yes, he’s gone,”

Link felt like bursting into tears. He was scared, and mostly alone, and some demon was hunting him and Impa had gotten hurt trying to protect him and-

“I want to go home,” he said quietly, not even really embarrassed by how broken the phrase sounded.

Impa frowned, gently, and offered him her hand. “I know. I can’t get you home right now, though,”

Link sniffed, reaching up to swipe at his eyes. He somehow already knew that.

“Come on, it’s not safe here,” Impa said, offering her hand to him again. “There’s somewhere safe close by where we can at least spend the night, though,”

Link sniffed again, wiping at his face with his sleeve, and accepted her hand, crawling out of the spot he’d hidden in. He felt like a little kid all over again, like he was when his parents had died. Scared and lost and alone, with no idea how anything was going to turn out or if it would even be okay.

Only this time he didn’t have Zelda, or Pipit, or Karane to help him out. There was no Geapora to take him in. Just him, a whole world full of new things and dangers, and Impa.

“Is he going to come back?” Link asked while Impa looked him over for any new injuries.

Impa paused, looking up at him, then turned her eyes back to his arm. “Probably,” she admitted, slowly, like she was trying not to scare him. “Which is why we can’t stay here,”

“What does he even want from me?” Link asked, trying his best not to actually burst into tears. He didn’t want to cry. He could be brave, though he was starting to think he didn’t want to be.

Impa sighed, putting her hands on his shoulders and looking him in the eye. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as he’d feared considering the last time someone held his shoulders.

“He doesn’t want anything from you,” Impa told him seriously. “He wants something from the person he thinks you are. He wants the Spirit Maiden,”

“But I’m not the Spirit Maiden,” Link said, in a way that bordered on a mix of a whine and beg but wasn’t quite either. “Can he leave us alone?”

The sympathetic look Impa gave him did not make him feel better.

“He doesn’t know that, though,” Impa said gently, squeezing his shoulders to try and offer him some comfort. “He thinks you are the Spirit Maiden, which is why he’s targeting you,”

Link could feel himself trembling, and he dropped his eyes away from Impa’s.

“I want to go home,” he repeated, trying his best to blink back scared tears and avoid just curling into a ball.

“I know,” Impa sighed, and he felt a gentle hand brush through his hair. “Come on, let’s head somewhere safe for now. We can work on getting you home once you’re healed,”

Link nodded, sniffling a bit and swiping at his face with his sleeves.

He hated being so helpless. He hated being so scared.

He just hoped Zelda wasn’t hating herself too much for pushing him. It really wasn’t her fault he ended up down here, being hunted by a demon.

He hoped Impa could find him a way home soon, so that he could apologize for worrying her.

He was done being excited by the surface.

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orchidmother777 · 4 years ago

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does seeing skinny girls in public make you self conscious or are you normal

#I forgot the tws for these kinds of posts but I'll try #tw #trigger warning #weight trigger warning #body conscious #self conscious #dysphoria?#dysphoria tw #if i missed a tag im sorry and lemme know what i can add #just reminds me that I'm not where I'd like to be #insecurity #insecurities

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shurisneakers · 2 years ago

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bridges break (i)

Summary: steve shuts himself away. you pull him along on a trip of a lifetime in an attempt to reconnect. great plan! except there's one big secret he's keeping from you that could change the course of your entire relationship, and there's no greasy stack of diner pancakes in the country big enough to hide behind.

(road trip!au, best friends to lovers)

Warnings: angst, mentions of death and violence, nightmares (?), mental health issues and disorientation, ptsd, swearing. lemme know if i missed anything and I'll tag it.

A/N: TAKE 2 MFS. a tarot reader lady on youtube told me to stop pushing and finally publish this fic lol. to my beloveds: tanya, ayesha, and chips ahoy traitor. thank you. ily.

pls know that this is my lil fic in my lil corner of the internet don't come at me if you don't like it, just block me <3

Steve’s legs dangle languidly off the concrete shore. His palm should be pressed to the ground, keeping his balance, but they instead defiantly clasp around an old worn-out sketchbook. His fingers nimbly capture ships on the horizon, waves lapping at the wall several feet below him and the orange of the evening reflecting off of rusted metal.

He looks up for a moment when a horn blares, loud and good. A smile slips past as he snaps his notebook shut and places it beside him, clenching his eyes shut and deeply inhaling the saltiness in the air.

Life is warm. Life is stripped down to its bare essence and still, life is good.

Steve jerks awake.

For months he expected nightmares to drag him out of his sleep, heaving and wide-eyed.

For months they never arrive, leaving him with the saccharine sweetness of the sun’s heat on his skin and legs stretched over the harbour.

Decidedly, it is worse.

____

He's seen those apartments in the catalogues, on TV shows and more. Grey, with furniture placed methodically only where it was required. A fake plant to spruce it up, one painting adding just one colour-- maybe a yellow, or an orange-- amidst the whites and blacks.

He's always thought it looked too sanitised. Like an office, or the boardrooms he spent most of daylight in. You couldn't possibly live in a home where everything felt like a touch away from being corrupted; too clean, like no one had ever lived in it.

But mostly, he always thought it looked lonely.

His apartment was filled- and remained in the process of it, too- with knick-knacks. Posters of movies he hadn't yet seen and of ones from the past that he had, paintings from local artists selling on the street, stuff he'd wrestled back from the museums. They'd called it artefacts, Steve had always just called it his old notebooks and his mother's clay sculptures. Those rested on the mantle.

Nothing had been added to the house in months.

"Captain."

Steve blinks, long.

He lifts his eyes to the person opposite to him, dark tailored suit and pinned back hair, greying prematurely.

"Yes?" he asks, ring finger still covering his mouth as his palm holds up the weight of his jaw.

"You haven't said a word since you got here," she replies with a poisonously sweet smile.

"Was just listening to what everyone had to say," Steve lies, and it's the first of many he'll tell today.

A panel. Steve’s on a panel of experts. Security experts. He doesn't even fucking know why-- he's never been very good at predicting which new being was going to fall out of the sky and try to kill all his friends.

"Nothing to add?" Though her tone is friendly, her eyes unsettlingly held no emotion.

"Have a feelin' you all know what I'm gonna say," he replies.

There's a sigh at the end of the long table, clearing one's throat from the other. Steve's stare remains steadfast.

“Captain Rogers. Steve," she-- Councilwoman Murray, he suddenly remembers-- says with a tick in her voice, pleasantly. "What we're proposing-"

"I know. I heard you," he says, calm as ever. "You want to set up a base in space with weapons of mass destruction in case an event like the Blip were to happen again. While I appreciate your patience, Councilwoman, here's where you're going to have to put up with me because I'm gonna tell you what I've been sayin' every single time we've met: it doesn't make sense."

"It is for international peace," she sighs.

It became very clear in the first meeting that his beliefs don’t align with the rest of them, but they've committed and so has he. No matter how many people slid him deals under the table or offered him positions like president, his opinion wasn't going to shift.

"A base that falls under American jurisdiction, run by American soldiers, using American produced weapons, serving under the orders of an American government, serving on the basis of, and I'm quoting your proposal here, threats against the citizens of the United States of America." Steve arches a brow. "Doesn't sound real international to me, especially when you're planning on vetoing anyone who doesn't agree. Just a scare tactic to the rest of the world."

Another suffering sigh. He can see a smile threaten to creep up on Mona’s face.

"Besides, it's quite the budget you've allocated to this project," he continues, pushing forward the document. "I think it'd be better spent on the millions of people you say you're glad are back. Last I heard, they’re still waiting on the resources you've promised."

With the last word, there's a faint sense of deja vu warm in his chest. He's sure he's brought this up elsewhere, but he can't pinpoint where. It’s hard to remember how he gets from one place to another. Or is it hard to pay attention? He can’t tell the difference anymore, it didn’t matter much.

Years, he has to correct himself.

Everything looked the same as it did six years ago. The last thing that he remembers adding to the decor was a framed picture of you and him at a baseball game before it all went to shit in Germany. That sat on the mantle, too.

He walks past it every morning, diverting his eyes to the kitchen before he catches sight of it and the pit forms in his stomach again. Still, he can't find it in himself to remove it.

Steve drags a razor across his cheek. It cleanly wipes away the foam, leaving behind clear skin, neat. Some days he just used soap when he couldn't open the shelf and reach for the shaving cream.

He turns his head down to slosh the razor around in the water. He remembers when he used to like the sound, thought it was fun.

There is red when he lifts his head back up to the mirror. Piercing red.

“It’s not that easy, Rogers.”

“Isn’t it?” Steve shoots a glance at the head of the table. "Seems pretty damn easy to me to decide what the money should go towards, and it's not the next tax write-off for the megalomaniac who's funded the doughnuts for this meeting."

The member’s jaw tightens and he sinks back into his seat again. The room’s quiet, an amalgamation of awkward stares and rolling eyes.

Because of course, Steve didn’t understand the problem. Steve didn’t understand the politics of it all.

Steve's just there 'cause Captain America has to be.

There's a thin line of blood when he lifts his head back up to the mirror. It races from about half his cheek down to his jaw, bright crimson changing to a dull red as it dilutes.

Steve stares at it for several moments. His watch ticks, reminding him that he may be frozen but the world was still spinning around him. But it was 5am and he's got nowhere to be for at least three hours.

When he drags his stare away from the nick and to his eyes in the mirror, he remember how the air used to get sucked out of the room. The same clocks used to stop ticking.

There was nothing there. He was not there. It was empty and he looked back at himself, tired eyes and glowing skin.

But now everything goes on as it did before. There is still nothing there, not even him. The air is still heavy in the bathroom and the watch keeps ticking.

Steve uses his thumb to wipe away the blood, and keeps going.

“Coffee, Captain Rogers?”

It’s a steady little routine they’ve fallen into. Mona asks him, always at precisely the right time, whether he would like a cup as they walk towards one of the many assigned conference rooms that day.

He told her yes once, and she committed his order to heart. It wasn't a big feat-- black, with no sugar and no cream-- but he appreciated it all the same. He carelessly downed it like a shot, ignoring the s as it goes down his throat.

Steve gently turns her down today, however. She quickly rats off a list of people he has to meet, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose in the process. He nods dimly, knowing that she'd send him a text with all the details anyway.

“You have to meet with Mr Langstaff at 12, and Mr Estrada at 1:30 to decide your press release. Y/N demands that you pick up the phone, and you have dinner with Mrs Madron at 8 at the Ritz about the ambassadorship.”

Steve's ears perk up, head snapping towards her. “What was that?”

“You have dinner at 8 with Mrs Madron at the Ritz,” Mona repeats slowly, deliberately.

“No, before that.”

She flips a page back on her notepad before reciting, “Y/N demands that you pick up the phone.”

Christ.

Steve swiftly skims through his phone, brows furrowing when he finds nothing. It takes a second to hit that if you were to call him, it probably wouldn't be to his work number. The work phone had a few texts and missed calls he hadn't responded to yet. He would be meeting them in the next few days anyway, what was the damn hurry?

From Y/N

Been a few days, you around?

From Y/N

Mona says you're busy so I'm not gonna call, but I left a message with her. Don't feel pressured to respond immediately, it was mostly a joke

Fuck.

From Y/N

Just lemme know if you're good

He curses softly under his breath, before pressing a button and holding the phone up to his ear.

He ignores the people walking past, some doing a double take when they see him standing in the middle of the hallway on a random weekday.

“Y/N,” he says in greeting the second you pick up. "Hey."

“Steve,” you reply equally as quick. “You all right?”`

“'M sorry, it's been a while since I checked this phone. I‘m fine.”

He can hear you exhale slightly at the other end, and the snap of elastic on your skin. He waits patiently outside the conference room for the people to start filing in, but he estimates another ten minutes before they do.

“Sorry, Stevie, didn’t mean to worry you,” you say, prying the gloves away from your hand, “It's just-- the last time you missed a couple'a calls, I had to find out you’re enemy of the state from the receptionist.”

“No, I get it. I forgot to respond, it's my bad.” He keeps his phone on silent these days. The only communication he really responds to with urgency is what Mona deems critical.

“We still meeting up for coffee today?”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose hard. Of all the things to slip his mind in the middle of all the legal jargon and fundraising efforts.

He sneaks a glance at his watch, and then back at the meeting room where an assistant was placing glasses of water in front of seats, and back at his watch.

“We don’t have to, if you’re not up for it,” you remind him in the lingering silence. “I know your schedule is busy these days.”

He had conferences, and dinners, and calls to ignore, and people to scorn, because if he wasn't fighting, then he's gotta be doing more to be helping people out, right?

“4pm, at Whole Latte Love, wasn't it?” His eye catches Mona’s, who swiftly flips through several pages of her notebook to write down his new plan. “I’ll be there.”

“You sure?”

“‘Course.” The corners of his mouth lift softly. "Can't wait."

“All right.” He can hear the smile in your voice. It’d been a while. “See you there.”

The call ends with a soft click. His posture immediately stiffens again.

Mona’s attention is still on the notepad when she says, “Guess that cancels the video call with Jepsen at 4:15.”

______

He pulls the brim of his cap even lower, if that was possible, fully intending to cover up his untrimmed hair. It didn't work very well; whatever was too long for the cap just stuck up in strange angles given how tight the hat was.

The smell of roasting coffee beans was intense, and a little hard to take in. He had been here loads of times before, but those visits had thinned out and the gaps in between each had increased exponentially over the last few years.

When he scours the area, all he sees are booths occupied with people speaking in hushed tones. It serves to remind him again that the world seemed a lot quieter now.

Six years ago, he couldn't take a step down a street without hearing cries for missing sons, aunts, friends. Then, of course, there was silence. Almost deafening, as people slowly picked themselves up, tried to make sense of the life they were living now.

It continued even when the Snapped were back. The parades were loud and the parties even louder but everything seemed muted. Almost like they expected the returned to leave again, cautious about how much energy they spent celebrating something that could disappear in an instant.

The chair scrapes against the linoleum floor, pulling his attention away from his lap.

He doesn't even know when he sat down.

“Please, don’t look so surprised.” You don’t go for a greeting, instead, taking note of the slightly dilated eyes. “Only you would wear a cap indoors and think it’s a good disguise.”

Steve glances around discreetly. “No one else noticed.”

“What, that you look like you want to hide?” You snort, laying all your stuff on the table after taking a seat. “Yeah, they did. Hi, by the way.”

If they did, they didn’t say anything.

"Hi," he says back. "You look good."

You narrow your eyes at him, before your face breaks into a small smile. "I didn't realise disarray and chaos was pleasing to you."

He shrugs. "You make it work."

Your head ducks with a smile and a small shake. “Did you order anything?”

"Not yet."

“Do you want to?” You pour over the menu in front of you even though you’ve been here before with him so many times you know exactly what you want. “Coffee, black, no sugar, no cream?”

Even though he declined Mona on the same offer, he takes you up on yours. It's always been hard to say no to you.

You quickly flag down the waitress, giving her your orders and a big smile and revert back to Steve.

“Haven’t heard from you in a while,” you say, leaning forward on your elbows. “How’s everything going?”

It hasn’t been on purpose-- well, it was-- but no one had really heard from him in a while.

“You know,” he draws out, “a lot of conversations with a lot of… interesting people.”

“Snobs?" you offer. "Uptight?”

“That's one way to put it.” There’s humour in his words but only a wisp of it on his face. “They’re thinkin’ of holding another carnival in a month.”

“What, like one obnoxious parade wasn’t enough already?”

“That’s what I told ‘em. But elections are coming up and the guy wants as much publicity as they can afford.” He restrains himself from rolling his eyes. “Tell me you're doing better on your side.”

“It’s like middle school all over again, Stevie.” The corner of your lip stretches thin in annoyance. “Ever since the return, everyone’s been fightin’ over desks and projects that we completed while they were gone.”

One of the most reputed labs in the world, some of the most formidable brains of nature and endless arguments over whose table gets to face the window, and who gets to sit nearest to the water cooler for better access to office gossip.

"Jesus," he says, before a familiar voice pinches him. Don't take the Lord's name in vain.

"Gets better."

Steve quirks an eyebrow.

The conversation gets cut short when the waitress sets down a cup in front of him and fills it nearly to the brim. It already smells better than the garbage they serve at the town hall, and he certainly could use a cup to make up for the fifty hours he'd spent awake so far.

"Thank you," he tells her before turning his attention to you. "Better how?"

“Well-- better is actually pretty subjective. Positions are shuffling around, people are moving.” You bite your lip. “They offered me a new job.”

He smiles for the first time that day, a big-toothed grin. "They did?"

"New title. Just fancier words for a person that runs that joint." You blow gently at your beverage, shoulders rising and falling nonchalantly. "Pays real well. Lot more access to resources, grants. Everything."

"Sounds like a dream," he says carefully, noting the lack of eye contact.

“I’m not sure if I’m gonna take it, though."

There it is. “Why?”

“Don't know if I want to." You shrug. "They only floated it by me a while ago, and it's pretty under wraps, so I have time. Don't have to answer 'em right away."

"Is there something going on?" If he'd somehow managed to miss it while doing God knows what, he'd never let himself forget it.

"No, there's nothing," you reassure. "I just don't know if I wanna do it."

Steve inclines his head. You expertly dodge it with a clearing of your throat.

“Sam told me the new compound’s been coming up okay.” God, he hadn’t seen Sam since the time he came back from returning the stones to their rightful place and that had been a few months ago.

“Yeah, almost done, actually. Most of the stuff’s been moved already.”

All the way across the country, far away from New York and its bi-annual alien attacks. Pepper had had enough after the compound got wrecked again, ordering for a complete shift to preserve whatever was left from the destruction.

“Do you think I can score a designated parking spot?”

“You can try."

"Or you can." You grin at him. "Put in a word for me."

Steve clicks his tongue. “Don't think it'd do any good. No special privileges, even for employees.”

“Damn it,” you curse under your breath and he lets out a small chuckle. “You think they’d throw free parking in with the healthcare.”

"Did you get yourself checked up?" She eyes him, top to bottom.

"Bucky had a look."

"So, that's a no, then," she says flatly. "When was this?"

"Two days ago."

"And you're completely all right?"

"Steve?"

He forcefully zeroes his focus back on you. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Your head quirks, but you let go of it a second later.

"I asked how you were." You twirl a stirring rod around your hot chocolate, letting its warmth seep into your palms through the cup as you hold it up. “If you were holdin’ up okay.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve been good," he says, lips stretched into a tight smile. “Keeping myself occupied.”

Steve purposely takes a long sip of his coffee, avoiding the furrow of your eyebrows. It makes his stomach lurch a little, and he raises his cup to his lips again to avoid thinking about it too much.

“You get any time off at all?”

“Sometimes.” Before you can question, he counters, "Do you?”

"I've had vacation days buildin' up for years now. Got nowhere to use 'em." Your eyes dart about the shop before landing on him. "Which is actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

Steve peers back in question, setting the cup down.

“What if I were to ask you-” you begin casually “-if you’d wanna maybe get away for a while.”

He only waits for you to continue.

“I was thinking we could take a road trip.”

A road trip?

Steve voices exactly that.

“We’ll get a car, drive it down to wherever you wanna go. Texas, Washington-” you speak a little faster, leaning forward to take his hand in yours “-hell, even fuckin’ Florida, I don’t care. I’ll plan it out, I’ll take care of everything."

His eyes flit down your hand on his, swallowing thickly. A break. A break. The idea makes his head spin and a laugh bubble out of him incredulously. But as soon as it arrives, it dissipates, leaving in its wake hesitancy and 'I'm sorry, I don't know if I can'.

“Why?” he asks instead, to squander any outright denial.

Why? He wants to smack himself in the head. Because best friends do that. Best friends take road trips together and host dinner parties and tell each other what’s on their minds and don't hide things, life-changing things.

You cage your bottom lip between your teeth, gaze softening. “I miss you.”

Steve feels the familiar sickness in his stomach, the same pit that forms every time he walks past the framed picture of you both in the morning.

“A road trip,” he repeats, testing it out for himself.

“A month, you and me. We're not leaving tomorrow or something, don't worry. Still gotta apply for leave and take care of some stuff, it'll take a while." Your eyes brighten when he doesn't immediately shoot it down. “I’ll even let you pick the music.”

“My taste isn’t that bad," he deflects offhandedly.

You give him a half-smile in response. “What d’ya say, Stevie?”

“A month?” Steve asks again, knowing that he was about to send Mona into an absolute panic.

“Just one," you swear.

A road trip. Across a country he was named after, one that he had never seen, save for in a state of destruction and despair.

"I'll have to check," he says. "Can I let you know?"

It's like you deflate, only by a minuscule amount but he catches it.

"Of course. No pressure, okay? It was just an idea."

"I know," Steve says quickly, flipping his hand so that it covers yours instead. "I promise I'll see what I can do."

You nod, a little uncertain before a smile overtakes your face.

It isn't a no. It isn't a flat-out refusal but he knows. He’s been pulling away and this is another attempt atit.

A cruel part of his mind says that it’s easy, it makes it easier for him and you later on.

"Something to eat?" you query, settling back into your seat. "I could go for some food."

The logical part says it’s because he’s a damn coward.

__________

Day slips into night and night slips into early morning faster than he anticipates.

If he didn't sleep, he didn't have to relive it all over again and the choice, therefore, was glaringly simple.

His phone shudders to let him know there's only 15 percent of battery left. Only then, when his neck cranes to reach around for his charger does he notice the time.

4:13am.

Steve stares at the phone for a while.

The light hadn't even come in yet, but with all the blinds in his house closed, he doubts they would have.

He blinks when he feels the familiar burn in his eyes.

4:15am.

Then he's made slowly aware of the dull ache in his neck he can easily attribute to sitting in the wrong position for too long.

Did he eat dinner?

4:18am.

Steve stares at the lock screen. An urge suddenly tugs at his brain.

Change it, or change his phone, or remove the cover. Or throw it at a wall.

By the time he locks it again, it reads 4:21am.

He thinks it's good enough to get a shower in.

__________

"A road trip?"

"Yeah." Steve rubs at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

"Thought you left that life behind with your plastic dinner plate."

Steve winces at the thought of his ill-fitting velcro suit. “Shut up.”

"Suppose your metal dinner plate deserves the same honour," Bucky muses, looking down at something off-screen. "Are you getting a tour bus?"

"Just a car, m'afraid," Steve says wearily. "Maybe on the European leg."

"Tell Y/N it broke my whole heart when I didn't receive an invite in the mail for this trip."

Steve sighs. "Might wanna hold onto your tissues. I'm not even sure I'm going."

"And why the hell not?"

"I don't know." He squints when Bucky ducks out of view, leaving him open to the attack of bright daylight through the phone. "I'm not sure."

"About what?" Bucky yells to be heard from off-screen.

"Got work to do."

Steve chews on his lip, letting his eyes close for a second in the silence.

There's a loud thud, and Steve opens his eyes to Bucky dropping a stack of files on the table in front of him. Brown, some sealed and others with corners softened from overuse.

"You're avoiding it," Bucky says flatly.

Steve's eyebrows furrow, more so in indignation than anything. "I am not."

"Shut the fuck up, Rogers," his best friend of many-- almost too many, he's beginning to think-- years tells him without even thinking twice. "What's your excuse this time, huh? Back pain? Senior's night at the country club?"

"Jesus Christ, Bucky."

"When's the last time you took a vacation?" Bucky's image is clear through the phone with no pixelation whatsoever. Steve can't imagine it's the same from his end, what with the crappy WiFi and sitting in the darkness of his bedroom.

He blows out a breath. "Well, if you count th-"

"If you say the time you were frozen, I'm gonna hang up."

Steve shuts his mouth.

Bucky pauses to read something and Steve takes the opportunity to kick off the shoes he hadn't bothered removing before laying down.

Bucky peers up at the screen for a second. "D'you know where the-"

"Manila folder. Under the testimonials list," Steve completes.

He doesn't even look surprised, just nods and picks up the correct file before flipping through it.

"Have you gone through them all?"

"Should I?" Bucky asks wearily. "I mean, I lived through them, y'know."

Steve sighs, scratching his cheek, wincing when he comes across the tiny scab. "You need to go through the files, Bucky."

"I'm kidding," Bucky clarifies with a roll of his eyes. "You'd think people would cut me some slack after being imprisoned for sixty years, but no. Can't joke about torture, can't joke about forgetting what I had for breakfast."

Steve stares at him through the phone.

"It was eggs," he says slowly. "I had eggs. And juice. Orange."

The thin sheets rustle under Steve as he sits up straight. "This is why I'm not going on that trip."

Bucky drops the file he was holding with a loud scoff. "Now hold on there, Rogers. Don't you fuckin' act like you've got babysitting duty.."

It should be too early there for Bucky to be this confrontational and it was definitely too late for Steve to argue back. He makes a mental note to call him at midnight next time, but the bastard would probably be up and about then too. He wonders if Bucky ever sleeps.

"I'm not." Steve exhales. "I'm not. I'm just not going to leave you in the middle of your trial prep, Buck."

"In the middle of?" Bucky voices back incredulously. "There isn't even a trial yet and there is nothing more left to prep."

"There's gotta be more-"

"But there isn't," Bucky cuts him off. "Steve, we’ve been at this for years. We've gone through everything. Murdock's done it thrice, Nelson's done it, like, six times, bless his soul. Look at this file, Rogers. I've been through it twice since last night."

Steve's own copy of all the material sat at his desk, highlighted and annotated. The way the case was being dealt with was unusual, but the case itself was unusual. He didn't really know enough about the legal system to argue either.

"The only reason we're waiting is so that I can take some time off before we let the government know I'm here," he reminds. "Otherwise we're done, we just gotta get my ass back to the States and we're ready to go."

Steve bites the inside of his lip, out of Bucky's sight. The angle isn't very flattering. He's long given up on trying to look presentable.

"It's not right."

"Look, Steve." Bucky picks up a file again. "You've done enough. I can handle a month."

"A month and a half, maybe."

"Even better." He gives him a sly smile. "Shuri says if she has to see your dumb face moping around here anymore she's gonna get you banned from entering the country."

Steve rolls his eyes. "I don't mope."

"Sure ya don't. Gettin' sick of it m'self, gotta tell you," Bucky says blankly. "T'Challa's got all these people working on the case. Figuring out a timeline. Once we tell the authorities I'm here, I either gotta surrender myself or get extradited. Either way, I won't be back for another few months at least."

Steve says nothing.

"Go on your little road trip. Stop worrying 'bout me." Bucky shifts in his seat. "Technically I'm on vacation, too."

Steve says nothing.

"Once I'm back, you can help me move into my jail cell, how about that?"

Steve's silence only intensifies.

"You're a ray of sunshine," Bucky says. "Love how you can take a joke."

"Bucky."

"Steve," he mocks, voice low. "I've been on my own since '45. I can handle it."

Even if he doesn't mean it like that, Steve feels an ache shoot through him in embarrassment. Bucky doesn't notice; he probably didn't even realise what he said.

"Plus, it's not the stone ages. I'll call you if I need anything, but I'm tellin' you, there's nothing. You've seen all the evidence. Only thing that's left is prepping for the stand, and they're only doing it after the therapist gives them the go-ahead to start poking in there." His index finger points to his temple.

Bucky's hair had grown long enough to curl lightly at his shoulder blades. He usually kept it tied up and out of his face but it hung loose today, forcing him to push back strands that kept covering his eyes as he read. Even through the phone, Steve could tell he looked better, dark circles faded significantly.

"They'll call you too. Grill your ass 'bout how much you love me."

"I don't."

"Should be easy then," he replies breezily, leafing through a folder. “Did you know I was apparently in Paris at some point? You’d think I'd remember the tower, but no. Turns out I just got stabbed.”

“Buck,” Steve says sternly.

“Sorry, sorry.” He holds up the file. “I got shot too.”

"Bucky."

"Just go." Bucky grins. "You can come back here and look at all these fun numbers.”

Steve shakes his head, pressing the heel of his palm into his eyes. The last two times he'd been to Wakanda, he had nothing to do. He met Bucky's goats. Ate a tomato he grew (it was still a little green but Bucky was damn proud of it. Best tomato Steve’d ever eaten). The rest was the same as the last few visits.

"If you don't wanna go for some other reason-" Bucky sneaks him a glance -"then don't. But don't let it be 'cause of me. Hell, I'd join too if I wasn't across an ocean. And gotten an invite."

He thinks it’s something to consider once Bucky can walk freely.

“You’re not doing a bad thing, Rogers," Bucky adds, tone a little more gentle this time. “You’re not a bad person. Stop beating yourself up about this and just go.”

Wasn’t he? He wasn’t a good person, that’s for sure.

Who the fuck even is he anymore?

"You sure?" Steve asks warily, the unease still lapping at him.

"Get me a souvenir," Bucky says. "Bet it'd look great next to my prison bed."

___

"Captain?"

Steve's eyes snap towards the person in front of him. Dark suit, hair brushed back.

"Yes?" he asks again and ignores the feeling that he's done this before.

"I asked if you'd gotten the email for the fundraiser."

Steve's eyes glance towards his left. It's almost like Mona reads his mind because she's already halfway through pulling out a folder from an even bigger folder.

"We did," she confirms. "We'll let you know about his availability. June is a tough month."

Steve looks down at his glass of water, determined to not let it show on his face that he's got no fucking idea what she's talking about.

The water ripples as Steve lifts it, but if someone were to ask, he isn't sure he ever drank it or not.

___

Steve stares at the red on his skin, wondering where it came from. It stretches down his skin like a long, raw scar before diluting at his jaw.

God, didn't that happen yesterday? Did he cut himself again? Or--wait, was it the day before yesterday?

Where was the fucking shaving cream– why was he shaving without shaving cream?

His phone chimes with a text alert from Mona. He sees from the home screen that it's a schedule for today. It started the same as always, with her cheerful 'Good morning. Here's the plan for the day'. And usually, it could be boiled down to meeting people he couldn't stand, people he was still treading the fence about, and lunch.

When he looks up at the mirror, the red has begun to dry, forming little crusts that cracked when he opened his mouth.

Steve blinks and it's gone, and there's a wet towel on the sink.

Dinner is something. Chicken. Rice. Something healthy, there's some greens in there. He watches some sitcoms and laughs when the laugh track plays even when the joke isn't all that funny.

He eats his chicken and wonders whether 2am is too early to take a shower.

"You got any food in you or is that all you’ve been taking in all day?” He makes a mention to the cigarette that was almost halfway done.

“Jeanie managed to get us some soup. Should last us a few days if we divide it up real nice.”

“We got some extra bread.”

“Nah, Rogers.” The teen flicks the tail end of the smoke, getting rid of the extra ash. “We’ll be all right. Save that for another day.”

Steve jolts up when the familiar feeling of falling hits him. But the couch is still underneath him and the TV's moved on to another late-night rerun. The laugh track is mundane but feels like it's directed at him.

The plate clangs on the ground-- he's glad he's invested in metal ones after the first few times it happened.

He rubs his eyes, hand reaching out for his phone.

3:30am.

Steve pulls on a jacket and some well worn sneakers. It can't be too early for a run.

___

“Captain?”

Steve snaps back. “Yes?”

___

Dinner is lunch? Pasta?

No, he ate rice for lunch.

2:00am.

Why the fuck is he eating dinner at 2am?

___

“Rogers?”

“Please, it’s Steve,” he repeats, shaking hands with a polite smile.

“Steve. Thank you for the advertisement you did for us. Sales really rocketed.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Steve feels the scab on his skin. Scraped again?

___

5:20am.

Steve laughs with the laugh track.

Was this who he was? Laughing at some joke he wouldn’t be able to remember even with a gun to his head?

He shovels another soon of cereal into his mouth and discards the rest in the sink.

___

“Captain?”

“He’s not available, sorry,” Mona cuts in curtly as she walks swiftly beside him. “You can schedule a meeting with me, though.”

Steve looks at her when they round a corner. “Who was that?”

“Um–” Mona scrolls through her tablet. “Senator–”

___

“5am is not too early for a run,” he repeats to himself in assurance under his breath, tugging his shoes on.

He stops to look in the mirror and it is empty. There should be dark circles and stubble and pale skin from not seeing the light of day. His skin glows. There is hardly a line on his face.

“Shave when you get back,” he says aloud, and his voice is hoarse from hours of unuse.

He swaps out the elevator for the stairs, bounding down quietly. 5am was still early for his neighbours.

He pushes open the door to his apartment and--

It is pitch black.

Steve takes a step outside, head turned up to the sky.

It is dark, cloudy and deafeningly silent.

Steve’s eyebrows pull together.

He digs his phone out of his pocket to check the time.

2am.

He thought it was 5.

___

“Captain–”

“My opinion isn’t going to change, Senator.”

“What?”

Steve’s attention drags him back to harsh fluorescent lighting and the smell of astringent hand sanitiser.

“I said you’re free to go.” The doctor flips the pages on his clipboard. “Good as new.”

“Serum, am I right?” he tries for a joke. It’s not even funny. He feels like a sitcom.

“Miracle of science.” The doctor graces him with a smile that seems almost pitiful. “Just try to get some sunlight. Your vitamin D’s a little low, but you’re cleared.”

“Great,” he says. Cleared for what, exactly?

___

“Mona.” Steve rubs his temples.

“Coffee?”

“Please.”

___

Steve watches his food spin around in the microwave.

It goes on endlessly, for ages and ages. He's mesmerised.

It finally beeps and he yanks it out.

He takes a bite. The center is still cold.

___

“Captain–”

“Senator.”

“It’s Councilwoman,” Mona whispers from beside him.

“Councilwoman,” Steve corrects. “My apologies. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“We’ve all been there.” She smiles kindly at him. He thinks she’s one of the only people he likes. “Now about your tweets, we’d really appreciate if you didn’t go against the organization that’s been, you know–”

He thinks he doesn’t like her.

Steve’s attention returns to his phone as she rattles on about why he should lend his public support to some fucking businessman who had stakes in some place for some reason. If he tweeted against him, it was probably for good reason.

You’ve sent him a meme.

The corners of his mouth curl up slightly.

“So we believe it’s in everybody’s best interest that you–”

“No,” Steve says resolutely, gaze rising up again. “My condolences, but I don’t think I’ll be doing that. Now can we continue to more important issues?”

___

Steve tries a drama for once, instead of a comedy.

Three episodes in and he has no idea what the hell has happened so far.

He checks his phone.

12:43am.

Too early for a run.

He gets ready for a shower.

___

Steve walks out, towel around his waist and hoodie covering his chest. His hair is slicked back, still dripping water down his back.

His phone chimes with another notification.

1:40am

Steve waits for it to download, one hand on his waist.

From Y/N

(image attached)

From Y/N

Why on earth are you awake this late?

From Steve:

Could ask you the same thing. Don’t you have work tomorrow?

From Y/N:

Don’t you have an interview with CNN tomorrow?

From Steve:

Steve’s eyebrows furrow as he looks up, racking his brain to remember if he did have something lined up.

How do you know my schedule better than me?

From Y/N:

They tweeted about it, Steve

He smiles, barely listening to his dinner spin around in the microwave.

From Y/N:

Why are you up?

From Steve:

Got in late.

From Y/N:

Go to sleep

From Steve:

You first.

From Y/N:

What are you, my dad?

From Y/N:

Kidding, I’m going. Have fun in your lil interview. Give me a shoutout

From Steve:

Keep your ears peeled.

From Steve:

Goodnight.

From Y/N:

Better not see you awake after this, Rogers

Steve pulls his eyes away from his phone when the microwave beeps dramatically.

From Y/N:

Goodnight. Talk to you tomorrow ily

He pulls his food out carefully. It’s the worst looking slice of pizza he’d ever seen, but he drops it onto a plate anyway and walks toward his couch.

2:00am.

He’s seen these reruns before. Twice, actually.

Steve takes a bite. It’s stone cold.

The laugh track plays again. His lip twitches.

Steve takes another bite and swallows it down without thinking too much.

He switches the channel. Someone advertises something he doesn’t want.

He switches the channel. His face. The channel changes faster.

Steve takes a bite. Winces and chews slowly, purposefully. The channel switches.

Laugh track. Steve bites the crust. His face.

3am?

The plate’s discarded. He’s got a box of cereal. The channel switches.

Steve takes a spoonful. Advertisement.

Interview today. Fuck.

He takes a bite. Parade promo.

___

“Captain?”

“Yes?”

___

Channel switches. CNN? Who the fuck was he talking to?

Steve chews on muesli.

Laugh track.

He swallows. Advertisement. Laugh track. He laughs.

Muesli. Interview at 9.

____

Steve drags the razor over his chin.

He swishes it around in the water, and there is red that mixes with dissolving foam.

____

He checks his phone. Muesli. Steve laughs.

It’s been half an hour. It’s still 3am.

Steve chews. Advertisement.

He laughs. Muesli. He laughs. Swallows.

Laugh track. Spoonful.

____

“Captain?”

“Yes?”

___

Dry pizza.

Steve laughs.

Steve pulls on his shoes and checks the time.

___

Something suddenly flips in him. He doesn't have a name for it.

Laugh track.

___

Fuck.

___

Steve exhales, tucking his phone into his pocket before he could send a retraction.

To Y/N:

Let's do it. Road trip. I'm in.

It was done now.

He couldn't go back.

___

It hardly takes a few seconds for the notification to ring out in an empty apartment.

____

From Y/N:

Fuck yes. You won’t regret this.

As much as he wishes this trip is for you and for the two of you only, he knows it is simply one small part of it.

Steve stares down at the phone, knowing he will.

Mostly, it drags him out of he darkness and into a spotlight. There was no turning back now, he couldn’t hide it behind absence.

There is still time, though. To somehow conjure up a way to tell you about the dreams and the docks and the sun on his face. Of dog tags and disinfectant on his torn skin and toffee from corner stores.

It gives him time to tell you he’s thinking of going back to the past.

Next part

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #captain america x you #mcu fic #marvel fic #steve rogers fic #captain america fic

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fluffytriceratops · 2 years ago

Text

𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐁𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 - 𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐨 [𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔]

Notes: the gif makes me think of the "i got it" moment between Mike and Leo. You'll understand when you read it. My writing is rusty and this is unedited because I'm lazy, so it might be shit. :D Possibly part one? I might write a part two- idk yet. I was in the mood for angst and this has been sitting in my drafts for literally ages so I figured I'd finish it up and post it since it's also been ages since I've posted a TMNT imagine! ALSO- REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN! If you would like to submit a request, please do so via asks, and please read my rules on my blog before hand, thank you! <33

Warnings: mature language, ANGST, mentions of addiction, mentions of alcohol, mental/emotional abuse, mentions of depression, brief mentions of self harm, etc.

Tags: @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @digitl-art-monstr @leosgirl82 @turtle-babe83 @mysticboombox @drowninghell @squirrelfurs @lec743 @post-apocalyptic-daydream @bibiz82 @raphslovemuffin80 @raphielover @tmntspidergirl

(If you would like to be tagged in my future TMNT realted posts (let me know if you want just reader insert stuff or if you want OC related content included) feel free to lemme know and I'll happily add you!)

Thank you for reading! Have a lovely day/night! Stay safe and make sure to take care of yourselves! I'm sending all the virtual hugs to you~! <3

***

Her gaze was locked onto the screen of her phone. She had opened her camera app to double check her appearance before going in, but what she saw caught her off guard. The large purple bags under her eyes, the paleness of her skin. All the weight she had lost was visible in her face alone, no matter how hard she had tried to hide it under baggy clothes. She didn't need anyone worrying about her. She could take care of herself... Y/n knew she hadn't been sleeping well. Not at all, actually. The only time she got the chance to get some rest was when she passed out from sheer exhaustion. Was it unhealthy? Oh absolutely. But she couldn't help herself. It didn't help that she worked two jobs. Ever since her father got fired, she was the one who had to keep everyone afloat. It was driving her mad.

Taking in a shaky breath, she shoved her phone back into her sweater's pocket and began to walk the rest of the way to the lair. It wasn't far. It didn't take long at all for her to get there. Once she stepped inside, she was greeted by the smell of pizza. Her stomach turned and she felt nauseous immediately. Y/n hadn't told anyone that she had gone on a diet. Not yet, anyway. Nor did she tell them she had stopped eating much at all. She was fine, they didn't need to know.

Y/n tucked a few strands of loose hair behind her ear, she took in another shaky breath before walking up to where they were. Their voices were loud and expressive. Raphael let out a bark of laughter, slapping Mikey on the shell in amusement. Leo was busy talking with April, and Casey was stuck chatting with Vern. It was Donatello who had noticed her first. "Hey, Y/n! We were starting to think you wouldn't make it!" He greeted with a cheerful smile.

She tried not to flinch under their sudden gazes. Pulling her lip between her teeth anxiously. God, she felt like vomiting. She needed to leave. "Yeah! You're late dude! What took you so long!?" Michelangelo whined, walking over and moving to sling an arm across her shoulders. She ducked under him before he got the chance.

"N-Nothing, really. Just took my time." Y/n shrugged, shuffling over towards the rest of them hurriedly. She had been dodging their embraces recently, and they were starting to notice. Mikey pursed his lips in a pout, missing the skeptic look on his brother's faces. They had all been brushing off her behavior, but this had been going on for what felt like forever. She was starting to look worse each time they saw her. There was one turtle who knew more than the other's. One who had suspected something was off a lot sooner than everyone else. Leonardo watched Y/n closely. Blue eyes practically glued to her.

"What kind of pizza would you like? We got meat lovers, cheese, veggie-" she cut Donnie off. "None, thanks. I'm uh, dieting." She shrugged, rocking on the balls of her feet nervously. Y/n could feel his eyes boring into her. Her heart rate increased rapidly. Pounding against her rib cage in a desperate plea to flea. Don looked at the other's briefly before turning his gaze back to the female. He nodded slowly, "Okay. Um, would you like something else?" Y/n's hands tightened in her pockets, curling into fists. She simply shook her head. "No thanks.. Not hungry.."

The room grew oddly silent for a few beats. Vern coughed obnoxiously into his elbow just to clear the silence. Leo had yet to look away from Y/n. It made her feel more nervous than anything else. Why was he starring at her? Couldn't he look somewhere else? Just when she was about to say or do something she'd definitely regret, Casey had spoken up. "So, uh, Y/n- I saw your dad today." Her head snapped towards him in a matter of seconds. It was a wonder how she didn't get whiplash. "You did? Where?"

She sounded nervous, and the other's picked up on it immediately. Raph and Donnie caught each other's gaze before the red clad turtle looked towards their leader. Leo was silent and observing. He stood still with his arms folded over his chest. Lips pressed into a flat line and brow ridge lightly furrowed. Raphael watched his brother closely, but his attention was moved else where as the conversation continued.

Casey, who was glad to get away from Vern, stepped forwards. Snatching himself up another slice of pizza. "Convenience store, on West Street. I was grabbing the drinks for today and bumped into him. His hand was all bandaged up, apparently he went to the ER today." He said before taking a merry bite out of the delightful pie. Y/n's gaze darkened.

Stop talking. Shut up. Don't say another word. Please. She all but begged, starring at him numbly. She knew this already. She was the one who dropped him off at the hospital. If it were possible, Y/n felt sicker than before. Her hands began to shake, she was just glad they were hidden in the pockets of her hoodie. She bit her tongue to stop from bolting. Everyone else was quiet, listening to Casey's story. Looking between the both of them as he spoke. She wanted to cry. "I know." She said, barley managing to get the words out.

Casey didn't seem to catch on. Or if he did, he continued to speak about it anyway. "So you know he put his hand through a window?" He was looking at her intensely, hell everyone was. Especially Leo. His gaze felt like fire, burning holes into her skull. She wanted to combust into flames. Right then and there.

"Yeah. Anything else." Y/n's tone grew bitter, and she couldn't help but glare at him. Hoping, praying, that he would just drop it and leave her alone. Casey ignored her. "Well, I know it's your mom's birthday. And I know it's been hard for the both of you. So y'know, we just wanted to check in." He gestured towards all of them, and she barley managed to peek towards them. Had they been talking about her?

"Casey-" April warned, shaking her head subtly at him. Either he didn't see it, or he ignored her as well. "And he was very charming. But he seemed kind of sad. I'd hate to see it happen again, so maybe you should keep a better eye on him." Was he serious? He couldn't be fucking serious, right? Y/n felt like she had swallowed cotton balls. Her nails punctured her skin and she igno red the light stinging. She was staring at a random crumb on the table. Gazing at it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Completely and utterly silent.

Leo's arms unfolded and he took a step towards her, but she quickly turned her gaze back to Casey. "Everyday is my mother's birthday.." She started, gaze icy, voice venomous. Leo stopped in his tracks, everyone was looking at her, but she focused on Casey solely. "My mother was born in December. He lied. He's a liar." Tears glazed at the corners of her eyes but she's refused to let them fall. Voice rising in anger.

"And I'm glad- really, I'm glad that you found him charming. I'm sure he was delightful. He's a blast after five drinks. Not so much after nine though, he get's a little weepy and mean." Mikey's eyes widened and he looked towards his older brother's worriedly. She hadn't uttered a word of this before, it was the first time anyone was hearing it. Leo's jaw clenched but she hadn't noticed it. Too busy focusing all her pent up anger on Casey. "He's a drunk. He probably came in and told you how wonderful you are. How he wished he could have a son like you. And how sad he is because he doesn't get to spend more time with me." She hadn't meant to cry, but the tears had started to slip down her pale cheeks. Y/n wiped at them angrily.

Casey stood there in shock, taking in her angry words carefully. He didn't dare say anything, all he did was look at her and take it. "Yesterday he said that I was his favorite daughter. The day before, I was an ungrateful bitch. The week before- he wrote me a check fortwenty thousand dollarsbecause he said I deserved everything life had to offer. Because he was so proud of me. A lifetimes worth of proud..." her voice cracked and her bottom lip trembled. Y/n looked down, forcing her hair to partially hide her face. She tried to collect herself as she wiped at her tears with her sleeve. "You can't listen to a word that man says. Everything that comes out of his mouth is about as many bottles as he can stomach before he either vomits it up or passes out."

"But thank you for telling me to keep a better eye on him." Y/n shook her head and turned on her heal. Storming out of the room and out of the lair altogether. She was tired of all this bullshit.

"Y/n! Wait!" Mikey moved to go after her but Leo clamped a hand down onto his shoulder. "I got it..." He muttered, casting an annoyed glance at Casey from over his shoulder before he chased after the h/c female.

"Well that was a train wreck." Vern muttered, wincing at the glare Casey shot in his direction. "How was I supposed to know." He hissed. "It's not like Y/n's a very open person."

"We all knew something was up, I'm sure Casey just wanted to make sure she was okay." April said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Case smiled at her briefly in thanks.

"I wish she would have said something..." Donnie whispered, twiddling his 'thumbs' nervously. "Maybe we could have helped her somehow."

"Y/n's stubborn. She doesn't wanna rely on anyone else. She doesn't wanna be a burden." Raph grumbled, shrugging his shoulders. "Still. I wish she would lean on us a little more. I'd like ta give her father a piece of my mind." He huffed.

Michelangelo's lips pulled into a frown. "You.. You don't think he hits her, do you?" The room fell silent, and everyone turned their gazes towards the area she had left.

"Leo'll make sure she's okay." Don spoke quietly, hands clenching each other desperately.

━

She knew he was following her. But he didn't approach. Not in the sewers, and not outside of them, either. He was waiting for the right time. Giving her a chance to cool off. If anything, the fact that Leo had come after her only pissed Y/n off more. She didn't want to get a lecture from him. She didn't want to rant. She wanted to lay in bed and cry. And she wanted to do it alone.

Y/n managed to hold herself together pretty well. She only let a few tears and sniffles slip out on her way back home. She lived in a sketchy part of the city in a small and dinky apartment. It was her, her two sisters Lucy and Amelia, and their father. Her mother had died a few years back. Her father was never the same after that. He ended up losing the job he had since before he met his wife. He couldn't keep a job afterwards, either. And he started drinking. He drowned his sorrows in alcohol. Any little bit of money he made went straight into alcohol. Lucy was the youngest, she had yet to start high school. Amelia was the oldest. She spent most of her time at her home with her fiance and their newborn son. She couldn't stand to even look at their father. She refused to see him. They always fought, too. Amelia wanted to take Y/n and Lucy with her, but Lucy was in custody of their father. And Y/n refused to leave him to rot.

Y/n's keys jingled as she pulled them from her pocket and jammed them into the deadbolt on the door of her apartment. She knew Leo would already be inside when she entered. And if not, then he was waiting on her fire escape.

The door slammed shut behind her, she kicked her shoes off by the door and walked further inside. There was no sight of her father, so he must be out. Most likely at the bar down the street. It was within walking distance and it was the weekend. There was no way he wouldn't be there. Lucy was sleeping over at Amelia's for the weekend, which meant she was home alone.

The thought would have been extremely comforting had Leonardo not been lurking around the corner.

She passed through the kitchen and walked down the hallway that lead to the bedrooms. Amelia's old room was first, it was completely empty now. Y/n shared a room with Lucy. She was supposed to move into Amelia's room after Amelia moved out, but Lucy didn't feel safe alone. And it wasn't just her father making her feel that way. Y/n was comforting to her. Knowing she was sleeping in the same room kept her calm. Their father's room was the last one. The door was always closed. No one was ever allowed in. He slept on the couch more than his own bed.

The second Y/n pushed her bedroom door open she saw Leonardo standing at the foot of her bed. Patiently waiting for her.

Y/n's gaze hardened, but she said nothing. She kicked the door shut behind her and walked past him to her desk. She needed to do something. Anything. She just needed to keep busy. So she started to organize her college assingments.

Leo remained quiet, simply watching her. After a few minutes of Y/n shuffling papers and slamming drawers he opened his mouth. "Y/n."

"Don't." She snapped, tensing at the sound of his voice.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say..." He breathed, blue; blue eyes glued to her. Scared that if he looked away she would crack and break into a million pieces.

"I don't want you to say anything." She mumbled, voice strained. Her movements had seized. She simply stood there, back facing him. Honestly she was afraid that if she turned and caught sight of his ocean colored eyes, she'd burst.

The room grew quiet again. Y/n knew he was looking at her. She could feel his intense gaze plastered to her back. Studying every small movement she made. The light tremble of her hands. The slight shaking of her shoulders. The wobbling of her knees. Y/n tried to hold herself together. Keep the tears at bay. It was a fools wish.

She could feel his presence. Feel him walking closer. Till he was just a few meesly inches away from her. Leo was so close she knew if she took the tiniest of steps backward his chest would connect with her back. His hand grazed her arm and she broke the silence with a sharp inhale.

And she crumbled.

Tears blurred her vision as she gasped out a shuddering sob. A sob that shook her entire body. One that stole the breath from her lungs and broke her heart into millions of microscopic pieces. She collapsed against him and he held her tightly against his plastron. Strong arms hooking around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

Leonardo said nothing as she cried. It wasn't the first time she cried in his arms. And it most certainly wouldn't be the last.

Nothing was said or done. Neither of them moved. He just held her tight as she let out everything she had been holding in. By the time her cries had quieted, and tears dried on her skin. The sun had started to set. Basking the room in its warm fading glow through the window. Painting the two of them in a lovely array of yellows, oranges, and pinks.

Leo slowly turned Y/n around. Even when she was crying, she was utterly beautiful. Achingly so. He placed his hand under her chin and slowly tilted her red face upwards. Her e/c dewy eyes met his own. There was no longer a wall between them. He had managed to break it down in a matter of seconds. And now, all her pain was visible to him in her eyes.

There was a reason they say eyes are the windows to the soul.

Leo had built his own wall. One he kept up at all times. Around everyone. Everyone except her.

No words needed to be expressed between either of them. They already knew exactly how the other was feeling. With one simple glance. That's all it took. All it ever took.

Leonardo leaned down instinctevly, slowly and cautiously. Waiting and watching to see if she would pull away. Y/n never did. Instead, she slowly and hesitantly moved closer. That's when their lips connected.

A soft and deseperate kiss was shared. He held her face delicately, as if she would crumble into dust in his arms. Y/n clutched at him desperately, afraid he'd see how truly broken and damaged she was and pull away. Leo wasn't going anywhere. Something he told her with his lips as he peppered her skin with kisses. And when he reached her mouth again, he kissed her hard. He poured his soul into her. She drank him up.

As they parted for air. Y/n gasping for a whole other reason. He grabbed her hand and pressed a few more tender kisses to her knuckles. Eyes locked. Chests heaving. Hearts pounding.

Their souls danced the same.

"You don't have to hide around me. There's no need to barricade your feelings anymore." Leo whispered, brushing his thumb against the back of her hand. "You can show me the darkest and scariest parts of yourself. I'm not going anywhere."

A few more tears slid down her tender red cheeks. They caught the light of the sun and shone like tiny falling stars. He brushed them away with his lips.

"Even if I'm destined to crumble into nothing?" Y/n breathed, placing her hand on his chest. Fingertips tracing the markings engraved into his plastron from years of battle and training.

"Even if you're destined to crumble into nothing." Leo whispered, pressing a loving kiss to each rosey cheek. "I'll always be here. Right here. In your arms, where I belong."

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dat-dio-backpatch · 2 years ago

Text

Band Practice, Billy's ending

Summary: You get a chance to have a long awaited conversation with Eddie on the ride back from band practice but all you can think about is what you're going to say to Billy when you get home.

Word Count: 3.5k

warnings: Swearing

A/N: I'm not sure I did Billy justice the way I intended to with this one, I may end up doing another small oneshot just because this man has been on my mind 24/7 since I posted the first part

Tags: @spacedaddydinn (if you want to be tagged in the Eddie ending lemme know and I'll add you)

part 1 part 2

~~~~ You were leaning against Eddie's van, waiting for him to finish up his conversation with the guys and enjoying the cool night air. It’d been a long night and you were more than ready for a relaxing drive home and a good night's sleep, though you knew there was still that phone call to Billy standing between you and passing out in your bed. Thinking about it made you frown, you didn’t know what you were going to say to him but you knew you couldn’t just end the night without at least smoothing things over with him. Previous unresolved fights with Billy had left you unable to fall asleep for days until you’d talked it out, you just couldn’t rest knowing that he was upset with you. Especially when you knew he didn’t really have anyone else to talk to about all the shit he had to put up with, thinking about him shouldering all that bullshit alone and in silence made your heart ache. Even in the midst of some pretty rough fights you still cared about him so deeply that it kept you up at night. You couldn’t really explain it to anyone, at least not in a way that would make sense. You just loved him, simple as that. You loved the way he smiled whenever he saw you, the way he’d absentmindedly ran his fingers through your hair whenever you sat next to him, the way he always had to be holding onto you in some way like he was scared you’d disappear if he let you go. From an outsider's perspective you could see why your relationship didn’t make sense, it was hard to see Billy being a loving person. But you knew Billy better than anyone else, probably better than he knew himself, and you could see just how much he loved you in his every little action. Sure he was bold when it came to kissing you and wrapped his arm around your waist whenever possible but the ways he really showed his love for you were far more subtle. Walking you to class everyday even if it made him late to his own, always ensuring he had your favorite mixtape playing whenever he picked you up, keeping every gift you’d ever given him on display in his room like trophies, so many small little actions that anyone else would probably miss. That’s how Billy showed he loved you and you loved him for each little subtle reminder he provided.

“You ready to go?” Eddie's question snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked up to realize he’d wrapped up his conversation with the guys and carefully packed his guitar away in the van.

“Yup, you got Ride the Lightning ready?” You asked, smiling as Eddie opened the passenger side door for you.

“You know it” He returned your smile warmly, shutting the door behind you before rushing to get in the driver's seat. You spotted the cassette already sitting on the dashboard, watching as Eddie made quick work of getting it started. “It’s been ready and waiting for another one of our concerts for a while”

“It’s been a while since we put on one of our stellar performances hasn’t it?” You said softly as Eddie started backing out of the driveway, leaning over to place his arm behind your seat.

“I was starting to worry we wouldn’t ever get an encore” He took his eyes off the rear window to look at you, still leaning in close. He looked almost sad as he spoke, it made your smile falter a bit as guilt started to pick away at you.

“That’s stupid, you really think I’d give up on our dynamic dou?” You laughed, hoping to avoid a deeper, more emotional conversation.

“I don’t know Y/N, for a while there it looked like you were leaving me in the dust” He leaned back into his own seat as he started driving towards your house, not going his usual over the top speeds as he wanted to make the drive last as long as he could. “With how you’ve been acting I don’t think it’s stupid to worry about you”

“Eddie, do you really think I’d ditch you like that?” You slumped in your seat, realizing that a deeper conversation was unavoidable.

“You stopped hanging out with me, stopped hugging me, nearly stopped talking to me too. What else am I supposed to think?”

“I still hang out with you Eddie, and we’re talking right now” You said but you knew he had a point. Eddie had always been a sore spot for Billy and without really realizing it you’d started to let it affect your friendship.

“Band practice doesn’t count as us hanging out” He was frustrated now “When was the last time you were over at my place, like two months ago? Three even?”

“Ok you have a point” You let out a deep sigh, you felt like shit. “I’m sorry Eddie, I’ve been a shitty friend to you and it’s not fair”

“What did I do?” Boy did that question make you feel even worse

“You didn’t do anything Eddie, you’ve been amazing actually. I seriously can’t believe you haven't blown up on me about this and ditched my ass” You said, you were being honest too. Why he was still around and still so calm when confronting you was surprising “I’ve just been too caught up in my own relationship to realize im treating my best friend like garbage”

“Seriously, why are you with that guy?” Eddie changed the topic suddenly

“I love him, Eddie, he doesn't always act like an asshole. Usually he’s sweet, and thoughtful and he's just bad at showing it” You were quick to defend Billy “Besides you guys obviously don’t like each other so of course he’s not going to be his best self around you”

“But why doesn’t he like me?” Eddie asked, voice raising a bit with pent up frustration

“I don’t know! You guys like the same music, you both hate Hawkins and I expected you to be at least ok with each other but its just, “ You paused before continuing

“It’s just what Y/N?”

“I think he's jealous of you, of our friendship” You admitted “He’s not good with people, not good at opening up and making actual friends either. I don’t think he’s ever even had a best friend before, so it’s easy to see why the friendship we have would set him off”

“Hargroves jealous of me?” Eddie was laughing now, apparently your answer was enough for him and you could get back to a normal goofy conversation.

“You don’t get to go spreading that around!” You laughed along, though you were serious about not wanting Eddie to tell anyone about what you’d shared.

“My lips are sealed, it’ll remain our little secret that Billy goddamn hargrove is Jealous of Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson” He was laughing even harder now, it was infectious and you found yourself doubling over in a fit of giggles. It was one of those ridiculous moments between friends where the joke itself wasn’t super funny but you still found yourselves laughing your asses off.

“Speaking of secrets” You said as you fought to stop laughing “You seriously gotta tell me who the songs are about!”

“I’d much rather let it remain a mystery” Eddie said as his laughter slowly died out

“But not knowing is torture” You slumped down in your seat to exaggerate your words

“That's the point dumbass” Eddie was laughing again

“Seriously though, who's the song about?” As funny as Eddie was being you wanted to know

“Guess, if you get it right I might consider telling you” Eddie said with a smirk

“Ok give me a hint” You sat up straight, excited to start guessing

“Well you know the person”

“I know a lotta people, you gotta give me more than that” You argued, hoping for further hints

“They’re really badass and smoking hot”

“I don't really think that's helpful either” You chuckled “You’re less helpful than Gareth sometimes”

“Oh you wound me” He dramatically clutched his chest making you laugh even harder. “What kind of hint are you looking for”

“What do they look like?” You asked hoping for some more useful details

“Metal as hell, thats as close to a description as I can give” He offered

You sat there pondering for a moment, there weren’t that many people that fit Eddie's description of metal that you knew. You felt like the answer was obvious but just out of reach.

“Stumped?” Eddie asked as he turned onto your street

“Totally” you answered as you watched your house slowly come into view “Can’t you just tell me? What harm would it do if I knew your crush? I promise I won’t tease you about it, at least not a lot”

“It’d be the end of the fucking world if I told you who I liked” Eddie answered, sounding suddenly far more serious than before. He pulled into your driveway and put the van in park.

“I think you’re being dramatic” you laughed awkwardly, unsure why his tone had shifted so suddenly “Eddie no crush, no matter how embarrassing, could ever be the end of the world. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not and no stupid crush is gonna get rid of me”

“I don’t know about that” Eddie was still dead serious, “I might tell you, sometime in the future when the worlds not at stake”

“I hope that's soon, I’m really curious” you said smiling softly, relieved when he finally returned your smile with one of his own

“I hope so too” he was smiling but he sounded sad

“Well for now I’ve got a boyfriend to call and a comfy bed calling my name, I’ll see ya soon Eddie” You said grabbing your bag and hopping out of the van

“Right, see you soon Y/N” You watched as he backed out of the driveway and you saw his smile fall as soon as you were out of the van. It worried you, Eddie usually shared even his stupidest most embarrassing secrets with you and now he suddenly decides to get secretive. But you had too much on your plate to dwell on it long, you brushed the thoughts aside as you hurried into your house.

Once you were inside you leaned back against the door and took a deep breath, needing a moment to yourself before you went to call Billy. You’d known a relationship with Billy would be a difficult one before he’d asked you out, You'd known that he came with more baggage than most people and that it would take a lot of effort to make things work with him. But you also knew he was worth it, even in the midst of screaming matches and the silent treatment that followed, you knew Billy was more than worth the effort. The way his eyes softened whenever he saw you, the way he made you feel like the only girl in the world with a simple kiss and the way he was able to say ‘I love you’ through a million little actions let you know that Billy was someone you’d go to the ends of the earth to help. Even if he couldn’t quite say it outloud you knew he would do the same for you. With your thoughts somewhat collected you made your way up to your room, trying to decide on just what to say to him. All of those thoughts were suddenly stopped when you opened your bedroom door to find Billy asleep on your bed. Shaking your head and smiling softly to yourself you made your way over to him.

“Hey, hey Billy” You muttered softly as you gently shook his arm “Billy honey wake up”

“Wh, what time is it?” he grumbled, still half asleep as he started to slowly open his eyes

“It’s just a little after 8” You answered smiling down at him as he started to wake up a bit more “You almost scared me half to death, I didn’t see your car in the driveway”

“Parked down the street, wanted to surprise you” He mumbled, slowly sitting up and rubbing his face to wake himself up fully. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep like that”

“Aren’t you romantic?” You teased him as you moved over to your closest to kick off your shoes and drop your bag. “I told you I was gonna call you, you didn’t have to sneak into my room to talk to me”

“I wanted to talk in person, I can’t say the shit I gotta say over the phone” He answered, watching as you moved over to your vanity and made quick work of wiping off the remains of your makeup. As hot as your heavy metal makeup was if Billy was being honest he always preferred you without it. You were beautiful, just plain beautiful and he was starting to worry he was going to fuck up the one good thing in his life if he didn’t suck it up and talk to you.

“What do you have to say?” You asked, finally making your way over to sit beside him on the bed. Instantly he reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers and holding tight.

“I’m, I’m sorry for fucking up your rehersal” He let out a huff, it was obvious he was struggling to get this out without muttering and you squeezed his hand for reassurance. It seemed to help as he continued to talk “I’m sorry I yelled at you over a dumb song, and I’m sorry I called Munson a freak”

“Why do you hate him so much?” You asked, hoping he’d be willing to have an actual conversation instead of brushing everything under the rug with an apology.

“He’s too close to you” Billy looked away from you as he answered “You’re my girl Y/N, he doesn’t have the right to act like he does”

“Act like what?” You were pretty sure you knew the answer

“Act like you’re his” His voice dropped a bit towards that familiar angry tone as he said what you predicted he would. “And it’s not like you discourage him or anything”

“Billy are you worried I’d leave you for Eddie?” You already knew the answer, Billys slight nod only confirming you guessed right. “I’d never do that to you baby”

Billy still wouldn’t look at you, but he squeezed your hand tightly

“Billy if I wanted to be with Eddie I would be with him and I’m not. I’m right here with you, with my amazing boyfriend who I love more than anyone else” You gently placed your hand on his jaw, slowly moving his head so he was facing you again. “I’d be a real idiot to abandon the most stunning, thoughtful man I’ve ever met. I love you Billy”

“Love you too” His voice had dropped back to a whisper, sadness overtaking the last remnants of anger in his tone. “I’m sorry, real fucking sorry”

“Thank you for apologizing Billy” You spoke softly, wanting to make it clear you weren’t angry anymore. “Do you understand why I was mad at you when you dropped me off?”

“Cause I tried to make out with you in front of your friends” He muttered out his answer but you didn’t blame him, this stuff was difficult and he was trying. Especially with what he’d just shared about Eddie you couldn't bring yourself to be angry at his behavior. “Which you’ve told me you don’t like and I still did it cause I’m a territorial asshole and shitty boyfriend”

To most people this would sound like a guilt trip but you knew Billy, you knew that the way he spoke revealed much more about what he meant than his words alone.

“I’m sorry” His voice was still quiet and laden with guilt.

“It’s ok, just please can you actually mean it this time?” You’d heard this apology before, you knew he meant it each and every time but you wanted him to actually stick by it this time. “I appreciate you apologizing I do but you’ve apologized for this stuff before and it still happens”

“I mean it Y/N, I’m gonna do better” He was still muttering but you knew he was telling the truth, this wasn’t him just trying to placate you.

“I love you Billy” You leaned forward to kiss him, gently cupping his face with your free hand as he leaned into the kiss. He didn’t try to deepen the kiss or take it further, instead he kept it light and soft. This was a level of tenderness Billy only displayed at night during these soft, whispered conversations. You hummed lightly as you felt Billy wrap his arm around you and pull you tight against him, breaking the kiss to bury his face in your shoulder.

“I love you Y/N” He was so quiet now, he always got quiet when he was vulnerable “I don’t know why this shits so hard, I want to be good for you I do, but I just,”

“It’s ok Billy” You placed a soft kiss on his temple and held him tighter “I know you’re trying, I notice how much better you’ve gotten with stuff like this and I appreciate it more than you know. I don’t say it enough but it means the world to me that you’re putting in all this effort for me.”

“I feel like I’m not enough” Hearing that whispered confession nearly broke your heart

“Billy baby you’re more than enough, You’re incredible, you’re everything I could ever ask for” You were quick to reassure him, gently lifting him from your shoulder so you could look him in the eye. “Billy I love you so very much, I love you for trying, I love you for all the progress you’ve made, I love you because you do things like park halfway down my street just so you can surprise me like this. You’re amazing in so many ways”

Billy didn’t say anything, he just leaned forward and kissed you. This time he deepened the kiss quickly, moving one hand to your lower back as the other found its way to the side of your face. You kissed back passionately, holding onto him tightly as the last of your anger and frustration melted away. You knew there was still a long way to go until Billy stopped picking fights with Eddie, a long way to go until Billy stopped having a problem with all the time you spent at band practice, a long way to go until all the little things that made your relationship seem so hard at times were resolved. But right now, with Billy holding you so gently as you lost yourself in his kiss, nothing mattered to you except the moment you were sharing together. The fight at practice faded into the background, Eddie's bizarre secrecy over the song ceased to matter, everything and anything that wasn’t about Billy and how soft his lips felt against your own meant nothing. These were the moments that proved just how far the two of you had come together and these were the moments that only strengthened your desire to keep fighting to make things work with Billy. It was here, in this whispered conversations and heartwarmingly soft embraces, that you were able to see Billy clearly. It was here that Billy dropped his defensive act, his territorial behavior and any survival instincts life had forced him to learn far too young, and here you could see the man you loved more than you’d ever be able to express. You felt honored each time Billy showed himself to you like this, knowing he had never before been able to trust someone with this level of vulnerability and if you were being honest with yourself you too had never trusted anyone the way you trusted Billy.

“I ever tell you that you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen?” Billy asked briefly

pulling away from the kiss, his eyes were sparkling a bit with tears but his lips were pulled up into the brightest smile you’d ever seen.

“I ever tell you that you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen?” You asked, relishing in the honey sweet sound of Billy's small chuckle. You moved your hand upwards to gently play with his curls as he pulled you back in to resume the kiss simultaneously tugging you closer until you were sitting in his lap. He had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, as if he couldn’t get you close enough. It was one of his small, subtle, ways of saying ‘I love you’, ‘I need you’ and you responded by holding onto him just as tightly, still gently playing with his hair. As if reading each other's minds the two of you moved to lay down, not breaking the kiss for a second. As you let yourself melt into the feeling of the kiss, of Billy's arms still wrapped around you keeping you pressed close against him, all you could think about was how much you loved him and how perfect everything was in this one enchanting moment.

#stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #corroded coffin #stranger things eddie #stranger things billy

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fillinforlater · 3 years ago

Note

random Twice member smut (not naming Sana, Nayeon, and Jeongyeon)

Phone: Energy Restored

Male Reader x Yoo Jeongyeon

Length: 1325 words

Tags: cuddles, kisses, mutual masturbation, handjob, fingerfucking, lazy

TW: QUICKIE; UNEDITED

(A/N: I HAVE RETURNED... with only a quickie... but greater things are to come, trust!)

>@you, I heard that our Angel attacked you. If you want to restore some energy, come to my house (Sooya St. 37) any day you like, after 5pm xoxo< Send by Ostrich.

37 hours of sleep. That is how much you needed after Minju, Tzuyu and Yiren left your home. And even after resting your mind, body and, most importantly, your dick, you still feel like an engine running on only a couple droplets of gas.

Despite your lack of energy, you found yourself on yet another bus riding to the northern part of Smite City, just as the clock on your life-changing flip phone shows 5:20pm.

Sooya Street was well known for all it's cute, small houses and as you fond over how funny they look with their emerald-green rooftiles, yellow fences and red doors, you almost miss your stop.

The appearance of tiny snowflakes in the grey January sky make you hurry. Hurry to house number 37. Hurry to a cozy couch. Hurry to whoever Ostrich is.

Before you can even press the doorbell of your destination, the red door parts slowly and you hear a soothing voice from the other end:

"Come on in, my friend! It's cold outside."

Although this is kinda strange, you don't hesitate to walk into the miniscule building. And after scanning the living room, your initial assumptions are proven to be correct: every piece of furniture, from the carpet and couch to the table and TV, everything fits the look and size of the entire house.

The explosion of colors and cuteness distracts you from the actual reason why you came here, but she quickly reminds you, what you replied to her request:

"I'll make sure it's cuddly and fun for you."

You jump. Behind you, a kindly smiling woman, with wavy brown-blonde hair stands, her hands playing with the hem of her knitted oversized pullover. It might be everything she has to cover her tall body, as her smooth legs are fully on display for your eyes to ogle at.

"Do you still want to do that?"

In awe, you just nod at her. Next thing you know, she grabs your wrist and the two of you lay next to each other on the way-too-short couch, which can barely keep the two of you on it's comfortable surface. It forces you to stay close to her and instinctively, you wrap your arms around her frame and feel the warm cotton of her beige garment.

"My name is Jeongyeon. I'm glad to finally meet you."

"Hey Jeongyeon! Nice to meet and feel you too...but how did you know of me?"

Jeongyeon brushes some of her beautiful hair away from her face to show you her puzzled look on it.

"How could I not? You were very active this week in our chat. And Angel attacked you, so here I am, ready to get some power back."

"Power?" you chuckle "I'm not a battery that needs refilling. I'm just a tired guy who wants to cuddle."

Jeongyeon put her hands on the back of your head and on your hip respectively and pulls you even closer. Her breasts press onto you, perky mounds with hard nipples. She is definitely not wearing a bra.

"Cuddles... like this?" Jeongyeon whisper in your hear and you hum as a reply. With only lazy, tiny movements you two exchange intimacy, heat and maybe even energy, but you quickly realize that you want to make this more enjoyable for her.

"Jeongyeon, lemme show you what I meant by 'fun for you'."

Your fingers slowly glide down to wear the cotton ends and silky skin starts. It is even softer than you imagined and with utmost care, you rub along her thighs and over her tummy.

Jeongyeon's moans are very quiet, but you easily pick them up next to your ear. Add in her rapid breaths and you can basically feel her melt under just your fingers.

With all your will power you ignore your own throbbing erection in your pants and focus on caressing every inch of Jeongyeon's thighs before moving to her plum ass and breasts.

"Oh, yes..."

Stimulate her on her stiff nipples, near her puckered hole, all over her sensitive spots and you see Jeongyeon mewl and drool. It makes you smile. You could go on like this forever that's how much joy her flawless skin brings you, but you decide to finish her off.

One palm to push open her legs further—no panties to cover her slightly hairy pussy—two fingers to thrust into her wet hole cause three breathless seconds. Then it’s the peak for Jeongyeon: orgasmic flows of juice stream out of her hole, onto your hand and all over her thighs.

“Ahh~ Th-Thank you...”

Jeongyeon places a wet kiss on your lips and rubs her trembling fingers all over your beet red cheeks. You both lightly giggle, but her giggles turn to moans when you unexpectedly continue the play with your fingers. Twist, curls and gradual thrust make Jeongyeon’s eyes glassy and the way she bites her lips makes your heart race.

“Hm, fuck! B-But it’s y-your turn.”

“We can do it at the same time. Your hands are so soft, Jeongyeon... I want them on me.”

“You, fuck, you can c-call me b-baby today.”

“Okay, baby. Please, stroke me. Let’s feel good together.”

She opens your belt, you yank down your pants. She licks on her hands, you kiss on her jaw. She starts to stroke your length, you put a third finger in her cavern. Give and receive, and your sexual desires will be taken care off.

Delicate fingers. The most delicate you have ever felt on your cock and the way Jeongyeon puts just the right amount of pressure on it adds as much to the experience as her pace does.

In comparison, your fucking of her pussy is uncontrolled, sloppy and downright messy. Excess juice drops down to floor and couch, unrecognizable forms written on her clit to stimulate it and a random pace of in and out.

It does not seem to matter: Jeongyeon gets off. You get off. And you both get pretty close at the same time. The only indicators of two nearing orgasms are heavier breaths, hanging tongues and trembling bodies. Obvious, but no one speaks until you two burst.

Jeongyeon jerks spurt after spurt of your creamy, white seed out of you and onto her. Meanwhile her pretty face contorts at the second orgasm which makes her feet spasms and then force your hand to remain trapped in between her pale thighs. A jail you are willing to stay in if it means getting a handjob of such quality.

“Th-That was a-amazing...”

“Your fingers were... great as well.”

“I’m glad than baby.”

Like it is the most natural and beautiful thing in the world, your two bodies start to entangle each other in a tight hug. The cum you just unloaded onto her is now returned unceremoniously by your closeness, but you couldn’t care less. After all, Jeongyeon doesn’t mind her own cum in her hair when you stroke it with the digits that were just inside her.

“Was my attempt at giving you energy successful?” Jeongyeon asks, avoiding your eyes, abashed by maybe having failed.

“It was more than successful, baby. I feel like I can conquer the world.”

Jeongyeon smiles brightly. The sun would be embarrassed by how much this woman shines, but it’s still snowing outside. Luckily, there is an amazing body keeping you warm.

“Oh really? Show me! I bet you can’t even conquer this city.”

“But what if my world is you?”

“Ew, cheesy as fuck. Get out.”

“Sure, just let me cuddle a little longer with you, baby.”

“Cuddle or...?”

“Only cuddle.”

A pat on your head. You burry your face in her chest. Some things should just never come to an end. Cuddles and kisses for example.

#twice smut #kpop smut #female idol smut #male reader insert #male reader #jeongyeon smut

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samwilsondiaries · 4 years ago

Text

; welcome home

PART I — PART II (soon)

sam wilson x fem!reader. masterlist.

summary. sam comes back home after being a week in europe, not replying to your calls or text messages.

words. ± 1.3k.

warnings, tags. after tfatws 1x04!reader insert, more or less. nsfw, +18!!! nothing really smutty, just a few touches and language.

a / n: none of my stories contain reader's body descriptions to be inclusive.

You couldn't help but feel worried after what you watched on the news. Sam left almost a week ago, asking you to stay with Sarah in Louisiana until he was back, only wanting to protect you. In the hospital, your boss gave you a sabbatical month, after collecting too many personal days. But being locked in Delacroix was eating you alive, carrying your phone wherever you used to go, waiting for a call or a message from your boyfriend that never came.

Helping your sister-in-law to extend the fishing net all over the floor to clean it from algae and trash, you weren't able to ignore it and to not check your notifications again. Nothing more than some emails and posts on your social media. Sarah puckered her lips disappointed for how his brother was behaving when she watched you sighing. She knew his ass was in big trouble, that was for sure. At least, help her with the family business kept your mind occupied the whole day, and it wasn't too bad to spend time with your nieces. They adored you and you used to have so much fun.

“I'm gonna put the boys to sleep”. Sarah informed you, coming into the kitchen while you were finishing your second glass of red wine. “You okay? Has he replied?”

“Nope”. You mumbled, taking another sip.

“He'll be okay”.

You knew it. Sam could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but you were aware of how hard he was. Your sister-in-law gave you a tight hug and left a kiss on your cheek before going upstairs to finish her day with some good sleep. She deserved it after too much work. On the contrary, you stayed there sitting at the dinner table, spinning your glass as if it could make it fill up by itself magically. Like every night, you used to wait an hour before heading to Sam's old room and try to sleep for a couple of hours, mostly waking up every thirty minutes to check your phone again. You weren't understanding why he hadn't replied to any of your texts, at least, with an emoji.

“Baby…”

The whisper dragged you back to reality with just one push, abruptly turning on your chair to the back door in the kitchen. Sam was there, standing in silence with a hand rested on the knob. He didn't seem hurt in any way, but he knew you probably would give him a silent treatment until he compensated you enough. Pressing your lips together and frowning, hiding how much you desired to hug him, kiss him and tell him how much you had missed him, you turned again to face your glass of wine.

Behind your position, you heard him heavily sighing while closing the door. His steps came closer, taking a seat on the chair next to yours. A shiver ran down your backbone when his right knee touched slightly yours, putting your head to the opposite side of his. Sam was conscious that telling you he was too occupied to use his phone only would make it worse, stretching his hand above the table to hold your free one. He was aware of what a simple touch from him could cause on you, taking it in advantage as you sniffed back your frustrated want to cry and yell at him.

“I've misse—”.

“Fuck that, Samuel. And fuck you”. Interrupting him with such a painful hiss, you stood up to empty the glass in one gulp, walking towards the sink to leave it inside.

After what happened with the blip, the minimal thought of losing him generated you a kind of anxiety that suffocated you till making you pass out. Five years. You had been looking for your soulmate for five years. You waited for him, even praying to God to bring him back to you. And when he did, he promised you to never leave again. A week without a single report from him wasn't exactly a way to keep it.

You supported part of your weight against the counter, with both of your hands tightly gripping the edge of it, bowing your head down. Sam pressed his inner cheek with the tip of his tongue, not being sure of what to do. He knew he screwed what he pact with you, even if it wasn't his intention. Believing that it was better if there wasn't any more distance between the two of you, he got up from his chair to reach you in two strides. Your boyfriend urged you to turn around and face him, but you tilted away your head not wanting to look at him.

Crossing both arms on your chest to let him know with your posture that you were more sad than angry, Sam placed his hands on the sides of your neck, cleaning a wild tear running down your cheek by using his thumb.

“You're the only thing in my mind when we're not together”. He guaranteed you, looking for your reddened eyes. “I'm sorry. I truly am… Look at me, please, baby”.

“I saw it on the news, Samuel. I saw what that Captain America did. And you were there, standing next to James. Don't ask me to not be worried”. You spoke then with so much rage still stuck in your throat.

“We will talk about it tomorrow, I promis—”.

“You promise. That's what you said the last time and look at my phone. Nothing. Nothing from you in days”. You reproached him, clicking your tongue and interrupting him again.

“Then, I don't promise. I assure you I'll answer any question you have tomorrow”. His orbs stayed in place, not moving a single minimal inch from yours.

You didn't reply. No word came from your mouth. Mouth that he didn't hesitate to bring to his. Sam only gave you an ephemeral kiss, causing you to close your eyes just like him. A sneak peek of what was about to happen. It was no more than a second when you were devouring each other's lips. Desperate, eagerly. His tongue soon invaded your cavity, drinking the sweet moan you couldn't retain as his left hand went straight down your ass. He squeezed it making you slightly lean upon your bare tiptoes, as he made his way to between your legs.

The heat started to strangle you when he slid his free hand under your shirt to grip it around one of your boobs, freeing it from your bra. Your tongue continued fighting his, not caring about the lack of air within your lungs, as you rocked your needed core against the lump growing beneath the rough fabric of his jeans. Sam grunted against your lips, wishing for an instant to be in your kitchen and not in his sister's, so he could simply rip off your clothes and fuck like two animals in heat. He needed to control himself, but he just simply couldn't, hearing your lower pleasing vocals.

“No, no, no, please, Sam...” You sobbed in a whisper, tangling your fingers in his shirt when he tried to take a step back.

“Shit, baby girl… You drive me insane”. He uttered into your ear as your mouth landed on his neck. Kissing, biting, and pulling up his skin between your teeth.

Sam's hands pawed your body strongly, pressing your body against the counter to make you feel what you caused on him. Having to take care of not being heard or caught on action just turned him on high-sky, but he was conscious that it wouldn't be a good scene for his nieces.

“C'mon… lemme take you to my room”. He asked you, finally settling some distance barely breathing, holding your hand to quickly guide you upstairs.

a / n: thank you for reading! if you liked it, please, leave a comment and reblog it, i'd really appreciate it.

tag list: @whoreforsamwilson @naboo-nights @natashadeservedbetter @lazypeachsoul @phoenixhalliwell @wanniiieeee @morganayenneferburnham @puthyprincess @superhoeva @edencherries @fookinsuckmecockmate @peterssweetpea @pixieyosi @marvel-diaries @bionicbarnes @jamiereads @missroro @loudbluepancake @iinvisiblewings @strawb3rrydr3ss @mariahthelioness29 @tlcwrites @shizzybarnaclee @teti-menchon0604 @reichelhache @mack-jay @harami-mami

you can add yourself to my tag list in the link you'll find in the masterlist.

#justsamwilson #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x y/n #the falcon fanfiction #the falcon imagine #the falcon x you #the falcon x reader #anthony mackie fanfiction #anthony mackie x reader #anthony mackie x you

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cyhyr · 3 years ago

Text

Whumptober - Too Many Prompts

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: E

Pairing: Iruka/Kakashi; Tenzō|Yamato/OC (pre-relationship)

WC: ~4300

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence; Rape/Non-con

Additional Tags: kidnapping, torture, hair pulling (so much hair pulling), oral rape, ring gag, beating, caning, rape, non-con photographs, drugging, branding, hypothermia, choking, throat cutting, hysteria, crying, healing, falling unconscious due to pain, chakra depletion, hospital

A/N: The document title is literally, "How many prompts can I fit in one fic LET'S SEE" sooo. That should kinda set the tone for this. If there's anything I missed in the tag list, lemme know and I'll add it.

Due to the sheer amount of tagging that would go into this fic, I'm going to put the whole thing under the cut and not follow the standard tagging system for Whumptober.

This fic uses the prompts for No.17 (Field Care 101), No.18 ("Now smile for the camera"), No.24 (Revenge), No.30 (left for dead), and the Alt Prompts Screaming and Caning (which I haven't yet determined which days I'm going to drop to sub out these for, but I'm definitely using)

Stay safe, use the back button if you need to, and if you want more details before you attempt a read, my DMs are open.

Tagging for Whumptober: @sweetysamaa, @atereal, @kelkage, @stupidbadgers

The first video Kakashi receives comes less than a week after Iruka misses his second check-in. Gods, he’s not even supposed to be doing field work, but Kakashi hadn’t gotten around to removing the yearly mission standard for non-active personnel, and so Iruka went out on a short, solo B-rank mission. He wasn’t supposed to be gone for more than three weeks, with check-ins every Sunday.

By the time the second Wednesday goes by without word from him, Kakashi is already antsy and overly worried and wondering how he can make a case to be on the retrieval team.

And then the recording arrives, the village security team frantic because there’s just no way that they were hacked so easily.

Kakashi takes the video in his office, accompanied by Tenzō, Shikamaru, and Tsunade. He has to take a deep, composing breath before he presses play. It’s not enough to stave off the shock as the camera focuses and there, on his knees in the middle of a dim room, his arms bound behind his back and his face bloody and swollen, is Iruka. A figure twists their hand in his hair and lifts his chin so the light shines better on the blackened eye and—

Gods, is that cum on his lips?!

“Smile for the camera, baby,” the figure croons. “Kakashi’ll wanna see your pretty face, yeah?”

And horror settles in Kakashi’s stomach because he knew this would happen someday, that someone would use Iruka to get to him—

Iruka grits his teeth and seethes, “Fuck you.”

No, Iruka, fuck; don’t antagonize them!!

The figure throws him down and stalks over to the camera. Kakashi hears them murmur, “You’ll pay for that,” and then the feed goes black.

Beside him, Tsunade puts her hand on his shoulder and says, “We’ll find him. We’ll get him back.”

But Kakashi knows—they don’t even know where to start.

Every evening, a new video comes through Konoha’s security feeds featuring Iruka and his captors. Kakashi anxiously watches them all, his helplessness growing with every day that goes by without Tenzō and his team figuring out who these guys are, where they’re keeping Iruka, and why.

It’s the why that’s eating at him. Sure, Kakashi has a lot of enemies, but after the War, he thought that the other Hidden Villages would have reconciled. That they were okay. So then, it has to be a rogue group, but Kakashi’s also been careful about keeping tabs on those Missing Nin who have a grudge against him, and he wouldn’t have let Iruka go into an area known to house Kakashi’s enemies.

Briefly, he considers asking Naruto to help him find Iruka. But Naruto is on his own diplomatic mission to Hidden Mist and if Konoha needs to fix a relationship, it’s with Kiri.

The evening feed comes through, and Kakashi briefly considers not watching this one, just to give himself a break. But they’re not giving Iruka a break, so why should Kakashi take one? No one else is here yet, and though he promised Tenzō he wouldn’t watch any of these videos without someone beside him, he clicks the play button and watches the video anyway.

“—lo Kakashi.”

The same man—he’s reasonably certain it’s a man—is behind the camera, focusing the lens on Iruka. He is on his knees still, his wrists pulled up above his head and strung from a beam in whatever shack they’re keeping him in. His chin is drooped down against his chest, so Kakashi can’t see much of his face, but just the way his head is lolled forward and how his shoulders rise and sag with each breath lets Kakashi know he’s exhausted.

“We had a lot of fun with your little fuck toy overnight. Have you had his mouth? Sure, we’ve had to fashion a fun gag so he can’t bite us, but he makes the most amusing noises when he chokes.”

The man comes around the front of the camera and grabs Iruka’s hair, lifting his face up. The gag keeps Iruka’s mouth open wide, a metal ring stuck behind his front teeth and buckled around the back of his head. And yes, of course Iruka’s given Kakashi his mouth before but fuck he’d never do something like this.

“Isn’t it pretty? He can’t swallow, unfortunately, so we gotta aim and shoot for the back of his throat. If we ever decide to give him back, you should consider whoring him out. He looks so pretty with cum dripping down his face, don’t you baby?”

Iruka whimpers. His face is bright red, tear stains on his cheeks; at least the black eye he had earlier has faded a bit.

The man unbuckles the gag and pulls it from Iruka’s mouth. He takes Iruka by the chin and says, “Today, though. Today, you’re going to scream.” And then he throws Iruka’s face away and laughs at his wince. He turns back to the camera. “See, we thought about fucking him, but I think you get the point a lot more if you only ever see the aftermath. Let your imagination run wild with what we’re doing to your baby off-camera.”

Kakashi puts his face in his hands. What did he do to these people that they have such a vendetta against him?! He doesn’t even know who they are! How is he supposed to offer a trade if he doesn’t know what they want?!

“Today though. I really want you to watch today’s video, Kakashi. I want you to watch and see what happens when a generation grows up without parents.”

The man beckons his comrades and the other four people Kakashi’s seen so much of over the last few days all come into view, each holding a thin cane of wood in their hands. His heart stops and his breath catches.

He can’t watch this.

He has to watch this.

“So today, your pretty fuckboy is going to get a few year’s worth of corporal punishment in the span of a few hours. Fifty strikes from each of us. And if he passes out? We start over.”

Iruka sobs. “Please, no,” he cries.

And then it begins, and Kakashi has to turn the volume off on his computer so that the screams don’t alert anyone else. He sits there, horrified, as each of these five people take turns caning Iruka’s back, unable to do anything but to watch as the love of his life is beaten bloody for a crime he had no part in.

The screams turn to sobs, which turn to begging, which turn back to screams, but eventually Iruka just says into his bonds and drops his head and oh gods no, Iruka, stay awake please please please stay awake

“That’s unfortunate,” one of the others says. “That was 203. He almost made it.”

A third just laughs. She says, “I was hoping that he wouldn’t make it through the first time. Fifty strikes isn’t enough for what was taken from us.”

The fourth steps forward and brings their cane down on Iruka’s bent thighs. He whimpers softly, but otherwise doesn’t stir.

The fifth snarls. “Wake him up. Get a shot of adrenaline or something. I’m not done yet.”

And in his office, a unknown number of miles away, Kakashi loses his battle against his own will and weeps.

A package comes for him three days later, and Tenzō is hesitant to let him open it when he brings the box to Kakashi’s desk.

“You don’t have to keep torturing yourself,” he says. “We’re still looking. We will keep looking until we find him.”

“But what if it’s a clue to their whereabouts?”

“Then let me handle it,” Tenzō says. “Please.”

Kakashi almost pushes the box back across the desk and acquiesces to Tenzō’s demand. But…

Gods, what if it’s a body part? He needs to know.

He pulls the box open and looks inside.

He wishes it were a body part.

There’s a note on top of all the photographs, and it reads:

Hatake

We thought you might be lonely without your toy, so here’s some pictures to help keep you warm.

Our favorites are on the bottom. Don’t forget to go through them all.

“After I look through these,” Kakashi says, his voice strangled, “I need you, with the utmost discretion, to also go through them, comb each and every picture for anything that could lead us to him.”

“Sempai—”

“I don’t trust anyone else,” Kakashi hiccups. “Get Anko and Shizune to help if you need it. They’ve both… seen this.”

In every photo, Iruka’s naked, twisted into different, painful-looking positions. In most of them, one of the five captors are using his body for pleasure. Kakashi studies every single one, taking in the bitten lips and open-mouthed screams, the tightly shut eyes leaking tears, and the fluids all over his body that Kakashi knows is more than just sweat.

Worse, near the bottom, they included photos of Iruka fucking himself on one or more of them, his face and chest flushed and his cock hard and painfully swollen. A closer look shows that Iruka’s eyes are blown out, that there are clear pinpricks on his upper arm, and fuck, they drugged him and Iruka’s never going to get over that if he remembers it.

He hands the box to Tenzō and says, “Please. Please find something.”

“I’d like to pull in Otter, too, to look at these with me.”

Kakashi nods. “That’s. Yes. Otter is fine.”

In the end, it’s Iruka, his clever love, who comes up with the way to get himself free. In-between the rounds of torture, he asks the exact right question.

“Why are you doing this? What did Kakashi do to you?”

“Sometimes the son has to pay for the sins of the father.”

And Kakashi perks up from watching the video, pauses it, and yells out to Shikamaru, “Bring me Hatake Sakumo’s mission files!!!”

(Poor Shikamaru had tried to stay at Kakashi’s side throughout watching Iruka’s torture, but two days ago, watching them cut into him and then heal it over and over again—Kakashi told Shikamaru that he didn’t have to do this, that he had nothing to prove. Shikamaru stands outside the door, listening, but can’t watch.)

Ten minutes later, Shikamaru comes back with his hands full of folders and papers, and he sets them down on Kakashi’s desk. “What are we looking for?”

“I don’t know yet,” Kakashi muses. “A potential enemy that hadn’t been dealt with?”

The video keeps playing on his computer. Iruka’s, gods he’s in so much pain and he’s begging—”Please, please, I’ll tell you anything, what do you want? Please.”

And they just laugh. “You’re already giving us everything we could want, baby.”

“Kakashi-sama,” Shikamaru starts.

“Drop the -sama, please,” Kakashi responds automatically.

“...sensei, then. Please, can you mute, or pause the video? I…”

Kakashi reaches over and turns it off. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“It’s just. I know it’s not like with Naruto, but. But Iruka-sensei was the first teacher I had who noticed that I wasn’t stupid, just…”

“I get it,” Kakashi says softly. “He’s a good man. He. He doesn’t deserve this. It should be—”

“It should be no one,” Shikamaru states. “No one deserves this. Not him, and especially not you. So don’t even go there.”

Kakashi sighs and tries to smile. “You’ll make a good assistant for Naruto when he becomes Hokage.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Shikamaru says. They go back to the files.

It takes a day and a half before Kakashi finds a mission report from the Land of Wind, detailing how Sakumo had gone in and wiped out a camp of insurgents hiding out in one of the canyons. Or, at least, he had gone in and done his duty thinking that they were insurgents, but only after returning home and sitting through the Council meeting following it did he find out that the camp had actually been full of refugees, and that the Council didn’t care that Sakumo had just wiped out an entire clan’s worth of people looking for rest and on their way to a new home.

Sakumo also wrote that he couldn’t kill all of them. He left the children, any under five years old.

Kakashi can’t help but groan and sigh. These people don’t want anything Kakashi can give them, save for his own suffering. And it’s not even him that they’re mad at; Sakumo had killed their parents, their loved ones, and now Iruka’s paying the price. Kakashi can’t offer them money, or information, or even himself, because they don’t want it. Kakashi knows all of his enemies; but he doesn’t know Sakumo’s.

And fuck, he thought he’d made peace with Sakumo and his memory, but because of that weakness and inability to finish a fucking job he was given, Iruka’s— But no. Gods, Iruka would be horrified to know he’s had those thoughts. Iruka would have been horrified to know that Sakumo had killed those kids. And he would be disappointed in Kakashi for even briefly having these thoughts.

He changes track. What now? What does he do now that he knows who’s got Iruka? Knowing who is so much different than knowing where…

Tenzō’s the one who suggests that they start at the valley Sakumo had found the camp. He approves of it, and Tenzō goes to collect his squad. Kakashi meets them on the roof, watching Boar adjust his gauntlets, Sable double-checking her senbons, and Otter giving one last count to their medical pouch. Tenzō nods to Kakashi.

“We’ll find him,” he says. “We’ll bring him home.”

“I know,” Kakashi says. “At least. At least bring back a body.”

Tenzō frowns and puts his hand on Kakashi’s slumped shoulder. “Positive thinking. We’ll bring him back alive.”

“Don’t promise me that,” Kakashi says, brushing his hand away. “Don’t promise me anything right now. I can’t—please.”

Tenzō nods again. “We’ll see you soon.”

And then the squad flickers away and Kakashi goes back inside.

Over the next week, the videos start coming more sparsely. Where before they had been fed into Konoha’s security network every evening, now Kakashi will go a day or even two before seeing Iruka’s face on the screen. And it gets worse.

One night they press hot knives to Iruka’s skin. Kakashi can imagine the smell of burning flesh and heaves into his trash can as he watches them brand Iruka’s skin over and over until he passes out.

Another, they pour buckets of ice over his body, letting him shiver violently in his bonds while his skin slowly turns blue and he stops shivering and closes his eyes—Kakashi honestly thought they’d killed him, that he’d frozen and his body temperature had dropped so much and he screams and sobs and it’s all Tsunade can do to keep him from putting his fist through the computer screen.

But three agonizing days later, they’re back and Iruka’s hair is matted and clumpy and his eyes are dull and he’s breathing rough. They bring back the canes and beat him until life comes back in his eyes and leaves again, and Gai comes and brings him home; he’s unable to see himself safely home.

Gai stays by his side the rest of the time, watching the videos with him and offering a shoulder or a hand to hold as needed. He doesn’t deserve Gai, and he says this over and over, but Gai just shakes his head and hushes him and lets him cry.

One morning, one of the security ninjas storms into his office, huffing and saying, “Rokudaime, I’m sorry, but you need to log in to the security feeds. There’s… It’s from the same people.”

There’s no Shikamaru, no Shizune, no Tsunade; only Gai’s hand on his knee helps keep him steady as he signs in and pulls up the feed that the security nin points to. He thanks him for the information, and then tells the kid to leave.

“The quality on this video is different than the others,” Gai points out.

“They’re in a new place,” Kakashi muses. “Tenzō must be closing in on them.”

It’s an empty room, still dim, but with stone walls instead of the wooden ones they’ve been keeping Iruka in. It could be a basement, or a cave, or—

“In you get. Is the camera working?”

Iruka’s pushed into view, and someone off-screen mutters, “Yeah, we’re live.”

Live.

Oh—

They tie Iruka from the ceiling, as they always have, but this time the rope is around Iruka’s neck instead of his wrists. They have his arms behind his back, and Kakashi can just barely see that his ankles are tied together as well.

The woman among them prys Iruka’s mouth open and slips the ring gag behind his teeth, fastening it behind his head. She pulls his hair and laughs at his whimper of pain.

(Kakashi whimpers too; Iruka hates having his hair pulled, and they all have been tugging him about why his hair for over two weeks.)

Usually, the chatty man gives an introduction, tells him what they’ve been doing to Iruka since they were last on camera. Today, there’s no words.

Gai averts his gaze as the first man sets in on Iruka, shoving his dick into Iruka’s open mouth and choking him with it. He pushes and pulls Iruka’s head back and forth along his dick, not bothering to move his hips. Kakashi can’t look away, even as the man blows his load into the back of Iruka’s throat and his partner begins to choke on the thick fluid.

The next one does the same thing. He digs his thumbs into Iruka’s cheeks, pinches his nose closed, laughs when Iruka’s eyes roll back just as he’s passing out. Then he slaps Iruka’s face to wake him back up, pulls out his dick, and jerks off into his open mouth. Cum drips down Iruka’s chin. He sniffs and cries.

The third man comes around behind Iruka, takes the rope around his neck, and chokes him by lifting the rope enough that it presses into Iruka’s throat. He lifts, and releases, and lifts, and releases, and then unbuckles the gag and pulls it out of Iruka’s mouth. He takes Iruka by the chin, snarls, “Scream,” and then does it again and again and—

Iruka coughs and sobs, “Please, please stop.”

Someone cuts him loose, leaving a collar of rope around his neck, and the man shoves his hand down the front of Iruka’s trousers and grabs him. “I said, scream,” he says again. He does something, and Iruka, finally, screams.

Gai takes his hand, says, “You don’t need to—”

“Shh.”

The chatty man stands behind Iruka, pulls him upright by his hair. All five of the torturers are on the screen, in various stages of contentment, anger, and gleeful excitement.

Normally, the chatty man signs off the video by telling Iruka to smile. This time, he whispers, staring directly into the camera, “Say goodbye to Kakashi, baby. This is our last time together.”

And before Iruka can speak, he pulls a knife and cuts Iruka’s throat.

“NO!!!”

Gai holds him back as he lunges for the screen, screaming and sobbing as they watch Iruka fall, choking on his own blood.

“NO—Gai let me go—no, no, Iruka, Love, please gods no—”

Gai says nothing, holding him tightly as the feed continues. Shouts and scrapes behind the camera indicate that the enemies are vacating the hideout fast but he doesn’t care because Iruka’s eyes go glassy and dark, blood bubbling from mouth onto his chin. His breaths become slower and slower, more labored—

He’s watching Iruka die.

He can’t watch Iruka die.

Kakashi breaks out of Gai’s hold and flickers away, not listening to his friend’s calls to wait—

The feed cuts off.

~~~

Otter knows they’re not supposed to be the first one into a room, that they need to wait for Sable and Cat to give an all-clear before bursting in with Boar at their side.

But this is Iruka-sensei’s life on the line, and Otter might be a medic but they’re also ANBU.

They skip ahead by themself, ignoring Cat’s calls to hold. Not to pat their own back, but they’ve been considered the best medic in active service since Tsunade-sama, and if anyone is going to fix the damage Iruka-sensei is likely sporting, it’s gonna be Otter.

So when they smell the flood of fresh blood in the air, coming from underneath a closed door in the small house they tracked these fucks to, Otter just knows that something is terribly, horribly wrong. They don’t wait for their team, just kick down the door and hop in with a scalpel jutsu on each of their palms to attack whoever might be on the other side.

But there’s no bad guys here. Just a camera, a bunch of wires, and Iruka-sensei tied up on the ground bleeding out—

Otter knocks over the camera in their haste to get to their patient, and in the back of their head registers the shattering of a lens. They sweep Iruka-sensei with a quick diagnostic jutsu, and fuck he’s not breathing and his heart is weak and where’s the injury??

They alight their palm with healing jutsu first. They have to get Iruka-sensei back from the brink of death before they can focus on the real problem. One hand continues to heal, and with the other they roll Iruka-sensei onto his back and sees the slice in his throat. It’s deep, and sluggishly bleeding indicating a weak heart that can no longer pump blood. They keep one hand hovering over Iruka-sensei’s chest, to fix his heart and get him breathing again, and with the other he flicks on another healing jutsu to fix the cut throat.

Cat kneels down beside them and snaps, “Otter! Report!”

“Resuscitation is seventy-seven percent complete, I just have to jump-start his heart and lungs. Then I can focus everything on that cut.”

“Rescue breaths? Chest compressions?”

“Both,” Otter says.

“I’ll do it.”

“Taichou—”

Cat leans over and slowly, carefully, tips Iruka-sensei’s head back. It pulls at what they’ve managed to fix on Iruka-sensei’s neck, but Cat is aware of what he’s doing and Otter pushes more chakra into that palm to mitigate any problems. Cat seals his mouth over Iruka-sensei’s and gives him two breaths. He looks up at Otter.

Otter nods. “Compressions.”

Cat places his hands on Iruka-sensei’s sternum, and is about to press down, but Otter says, “Not quite—Taichou, a little higher. There. Now, go.”

Fifteen compressions later, and Otter can feel Iruka-sensei’s heart working on its own. “Just breaths now, he’s still not breathing.” They shift both hands to Iruka-sensei’s neck and pour their chakra steadily into healing the cut, as Cat continues giving rescue breaths.

The slice heals over.

Iruka-sensei coughs slightly, moaning in his borderline unconsciousness, and Otter throws everything they have into fixing the rest of Kakashi-sama’s partner.

Their hands cease to glow, and their eyesight goes blurry. “Taichou,” they murmur, “I’mma pass out now.”

And then they keel over from sudden onset chakra exhaustion.

Yamato reacts quickly, reaching over Iruka’s body to steady Otter and telling Boar to cushion them. He looks up at Sable as she returns, but she shakes her head. They got away. She has the trail, but with Otter chakra depleted and Iruka desperately needing a hospital, they won’t be able to pursue. Technically, their mission objective was to retrieve Iruka, with a secondary objective to destroy those who took him.

He orders them all back to the village. Boar carries Iruka. Yamato carries Otter.

At one point, they’re flying through the trees and Otter wakes up and slurs, “This isn’t how I expected to ride you, Taichou.”

“Stop it!” Yamato hisses, “You’re chakra depleted!”

Iruka doesn’t wake the entire time. They take it slow, but not too slow. He doesn’t want to overtax either Iruka or Otter.

Clearly, the infatuation Otter has with him will need to be addressed when they get home. He can’t have Otter on his squad if they’re going to…

Well.

It takes a week to get home. Otter is careful about their chakra usage, but makes sure Iruka is alive and on the mend. He does eventually stir just as the front gate is coming into view. Yamato orders Sable to meet with Kakashi and report in.

The rest of them go to the hospital; fifth floor, ANBU wing. The nurses take Iruka from Boar’s back, and Yamato slips Otter off his back and onto their own stretcher. They reach out for him and murmur, “Visit me?”

Yamato nods. “As soon as I can. Get some rest.”

Then he waits for Kakashi’s arrival.

Iruka wakes slowly and instinctively squeezes the hand in his own, sighing as he finds himself mostly pain-free for the first time in a while.

“Love?”

He hums, blinking his eyes open. Kakashi is there, sitting beside him in a chair, holding his hand in both of his own. Iruka smiles. Weakly, he says, “Hey.”

Kakashi leans over him and kisses his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, his lips. Iruka doesn’t have the energy to kiss back. But he basks in the affection he’s given, sighs, and turns his head fully to face Kakashi.

“Love you,” he murmurs.

“Love you too,” Kakashi says back, kissing the back of his hand and his wrist and his fingertips. “I love you so much. Gods, I’m—”

“Don’t even,” Iruka wrinkles his nose. “Not your fault. Hush.”

“But—”

“Kakashi. Hush.”

Then Iruka breathes deeply and feels a fresh wave of pain medication flow into his arm, and he falls back asleep to the warmth of Kakashi holding him.

#whumptober2021 #nsfwhump #kakairu #umino iruka #hatake kakashi #Tenzo|Yamato #Otter #my writing

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